FIVE

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FIVE: THE TRUTH WILL SET YOU FREE
(part one)
november 2nd, 1984.

"What time did you get home last night?"

"Um.. three, o'clock in the morning. I think."

Rosalie yawned for the fifth time and leaned her head against her cool desk top. For a moment, while her eyes closed, she could feel herself start to slip back into sleep mode. To her, sleep was far more important than the silly lecture her teacher was giving in the front of the classroom. Something about chemistry, or maybe it was history, she didn't care. Her sleep was interrupted by the feeling of Ivy's eyes boring into the back of her head. She sat up and sighed thinking to herself;

Here it comes.

"That's the second night in a row you've slept at Harrington's," Ivy pointed out causing Rosalie to hush her instantly. Her eyes scanned the anatomy class to make sure no one was listening. Most kids were looking out the window, few were taking notes. None of their eyes were on the two girls who sat in the back of the room. Rosalie sighed with content; she could not and would not handle another day filled with toxic rumors. The idea of her name being tossed around the school made her skin crawl and her head hurt.

"I did not spend the night," Rosalie explained. "I left. I went back home and went to sleep. We didn't not do anything last night. I mean, we just talked." It was true, they just talked the whole night. She was starting to appreciate this bond between her and Harrington, their friendship. He needed her, and she was starting to realize that maybe she needed him too. Not for the same reasons, but because he was a great listener and she could tell him things that Ivy wouldn't understand. Unlike Ivy, Steve wasn't so quick to judge, and although Rosalie appreciated her best friend for always being there for her, she had to admit that hanging out with Steve was like a breath of fresh air.

Ivy snorted at Rosalie's comment, as if she couldn't fathom the idea of Steve Harrington being able to hold a conversation. "About what?" Ivy asked, in no shape or form attempting to hide her bitter tone. Rosalie refused to glare at her judgmental friend, instead she pushed her curls out of her face with a long breath and finally sat up.

"Nothing, everything," Rosalie shrugged, searching her mind of what to tell her friend, "he plays the guitar. Or at least he likes to think he can, he was terrible. And don't get me started on his singing.." She chuckled, her eyes rolling at the memory of Steve strumming an out of tuned guitar. He had an old guitar in the back of his closet from when he took lessons as a kid. He only knew two cords and made up crappy songs. She told him, time and time again that he was a horrendous player, but Steve was convinced he was David Bowie. It was torture to hear him wail, but his attempts also made her laugh until her stomach hurt. Mostly because he was genuinely surprised that she didn't think he was a rock star. When she was pulled out of the memory, Ivy's brow was raised at her. "Ivy, why are you looking at me like that?"

"No reason," Ivy shrugged. There was definitely a reason, the way Ivy's eyes squinted told her otherwise. She reached forward, brushing her thumb against her friend's cheek, like she was wiping a bit of left overs off her face. "I just.. I'm just admiring your blush."

Her hands pressed to her freckled warm cheeks, pushing her friend's hands away and glared, "shut up." Rosalie crossed her arms against the desk before laying back down onto of her folded extremities.

"I'm surprised." Ivy admitted, "you make Harrington seem like he's an actual person." Rosalie's eyebrows furrowed at Ivy's rude comment. She knew that her and Steve would never be on good terms. It was an unspoken truth. There was no hope in the two being anything close to friends, so Rosalie made a mental note of keeping the Steve talk to a minimum with Ivy from now on. She bit her tongue to keep from increasing the tension that formed between the two at the mention of Steve Harrington.

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