Ringo Wheeler had enough problems - she was named after a member of a band she doesn't even like, she can't find her favourite record in any store along the East Coast and she pissed her parents off enough to be shipped to Indiana.
Now, she has a ne...
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"DUSTIN, ARE YOU THERE? IT'S LUCAS," a voice crackled through the walkie talkie attached to Dustin's hip. Scoffing a little, the boy unhitched it from his belt and stepped away from the trunk of Steve's car to talk to his friend.
While he did so, Ringo and Steve were left to cart the items out, their hands covered by bright yellow kitchen gloves. The blonde had shoved her hair up into a bun, wisps of hair falling from it out of exertion. Even while her hair was messy and her face was red from lifting, not to mention she was currently holding two buckets filled with raw meat, Steve thought she looked rather cute.
"Those gloves really suit you, you should keep them for later and we'll get kinky," he teased, dropping his eye in a wink.
"Oh fuck off, Steve," she huffed in laughter, settling the buckets down onto the ground and wiping her forehead with the sleeve of her shirt.
"Well why you were having sister problems," Dustin continued in the background, "Dart grew again, he escaped and I'm pretty sure he's a baby demogorgan."
"What?" Ringo hissed, placing her hands on her hips and swivelling around to the curly haired teenager. "When did we say that? I was hoping it was still some kind of dog with rabies."
"Wait, what?" Lucas's voice crackled down the line while Dustin waved Ringo off with his hand.
"I'll explain later just meet me, Ringo and Steve down at the old junkyard."
"Steve? And Ringo? As in Steve Harrington and Ringo Wheeler?"
"Noooo," Dustin drawled sarcastically, "it's Ringo Starr. We met him in Brainshakes and he decided to tag along for the ride. Of course it's Ringo freakin' Wheeler, how many Ringo's do you know?"
"What's Steve doing there then?"
"Please," Dustin rolled his eyes, "as if Steve would ever leave her damn side."
At his words, Steve sighed out of shame, but Ringo merely waggled her eyebrows at him suggestively. They shrugged their backpacks on, with Steve's bat poking out of his and Ringo's axe tied to the front of hers. They each carried a bucket of meat each, with Steve carting along a canister of gasoline to boot.
"Monsters again?" Ringo groaned. "Why can't I just have normal teenage problems, like worrying about missing my period or bacne?"
"What's bacne?" Dustin asked as they ventured inside the woodland.
"Acne on your back, doofus," Steve explained, rolling his eyes.
