Don't Blame Me ➵ Steve Harrington

thirty eight

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT
" HOW IS THAT HELPING? "

THE DRY ERASE MARKER SQUEAKED AGAINST THE WHITEBOARD. Robin looked at him smugly as she drew another tally into the YOU SUCK part of her chart.

Steve frowned at her and the retreating girl he had struck out with. Both annoyed him equally. "Would you give it up with that chart? Look, I'm not even really trying—"

Robin rolled her eyes, shoving the board back under the counter. "Yeah, I know 'because you and Dylan are on a break.' I've heard it a million times and it doesn't make it any less false."

"What do you know," he grunted, turning to serve this next customer. "Welcome to Scoop's Ahoy—Henderson! You're back from camp!"

"Yup," the kid grinned.

Robin scoffed again and retreated into the back but not with a snide "How many children are you friends with?"

Steve ignored her and continued to excitedly greet Dustin. "Let's get your some ice cream, man! Robin, I'm going on my break!"

He slid into a booth with the younger boy, Dustin immediately digging into his banana split and talking a mile a minute.

"No way! Hotter than Phoebe Cates?"

"Mhmm," Dustin continued, confident. "And she doesn't even care that my real pearls are coming in. She says kissing is better without teeth."

Steve, slightly disturbed, chose not to respond to that part of his spiel.

"This is so cool," Dustin said without missing a beat to breathe. "You really get to eat as much of this as you want?"

"Yeah." Steve said. "It's not really a good idea for me though. I gotta stay in shape for the ladies."

"And how's that working out for you...?" Robin called across the store, taking any moment to tease him.

"Ignore her."

Dustin looked up with a shrug. "She seems cool."

Steve didn't have to look at Robin to know that her smugness had increased tenfold. "So where are the other knuckleheads?"

Dustin was uncharacteristically quiet for a moment. "They ditched me. My first day back. But they'll regret it when they don't get to share my glory?"

His brows creased together in confusion, a common a emotion felt when with Dustin. "So last night I was trying to get in contact with Suzie," pause, "I intercepted..."

"Huh? Speak louder."

"I intercepted a secret Russian communication!"

The other patrons, and Robin, turned to them, annoyed by the interruption. "Yeah. Okay. That's what I thought you said."

"And what does that mean?"

The mall had emptied before he got a conclusive answer the that question. And even then it hardly made sense. Robin had joined in on Dustin's Russian decryption and they had figured they'd solved it: The week is long, the silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west.

"It can't be right. I, mean, I just don't think it's right—so much for being American heroes."

"It's obviously a code."

"Yeah, what did you think they would say? Fire the warhead at noon?"

Steve shook his head, still unconvinced. But he let his friends ramble on, trying to figure it all out. He paused in step, seeing the Indian Flyer, belief final washing over him as he scrambled for correct change.

"Anybody got a quarter?"

Predictably, Robin taunted him. But she still tossed him a quarter. They ride started, letting out a familiar tune.

Still, Dustin and Robin continued to tease and Steve yelled for them to shut up and listen. It didn't take long for Dustin to clue in, it was the same music in the recording.

"This code. It didn't come from Russia. It came from here."

The three of them stayed there, letting the newfound information sink in between them. Steve was also feeling pretty self-satisfied for being the one to figure out and he was going to let that feeling last as long as Robin would let him.

"So there's evil Russians here in Hawkins," Dustin said, sounding more intrigued than frightened. Robin had a similar expression of awe.

"Not just in Hawkins, there's evil Russians in Starcourt Mall." Robin added. It all sounded completely ridiculous.

The threesome made their way out into the parking lot. Robin got into her car, or in reality, her parents station wagon. They all agreed to meet back at Scoop's Ahoy the next morning: Robin and Steve because they were obligated to, and Dustin because that was the only way the three of them could get anything done.

"See you later, losers!" Robin called out her window before peeling out of the parking lot.

Steve offered Dustin a ride home and the kid happily took the passenger seat. The door wasn't even shut before Dustin's wide grin was formed.

Steve gave him a weird look. "What?"

"Robin's cool," he said, "like super cool."

Steve shrugged and put the keys in the ignition, the car whirred, in desperate need of a oil change he had been putting off. "She's alright, I guess. A little mean but she's pretty fun to work with. I think."

"Alright?" Dustin said. "She's awesome! She can translate Russian and she's hot. Plus she's funny."

"You only think she's funny because she's constantly being rude to me," Steve coughed. "Yeah, she's smart. And I guess she's pretty."

"Soooo?"

"So what?"

"What's the hold up!" Dustin erratically waves his arms around, trying to further his point. "You are always hitting on all these girls and striking out. But the coolest one's right there and she's your friend. What're you waiting for, you're Steve Harrington."

Steve frowned. "She's my friend. You said it right there."

Dustin rolled his eyes. Steve reversed out of his parking spot.

"Right. And when has that stopped you? I know what this is really about."

"No, you don't."

"Yup," he said, popping his P. "You're still in love with Dylan. Look, I get it. She's great, cool, funny, maybe the prettiest girl I've ever seen—"

"—How is that helping...?"

"But you know she's gone and she isn't really planning on coming back. It's over, dude! Move on! It's been, like, two months."

"It's been one month. Almost exactly. And I'm not even sure if we're broken up, broken up. It wasn't really clear."

"Really? One month?"

Steve nodded. "Uh, yeah. I think I would know."

"Huh," Dustin sat further back in the chair. "Sorry. But I mean Robin is still super cool so—"

Steve turned up the volume, tuning Dustin out to the sound of Glory Days, which really didn't help much. It only made Steve think of how obsessed with Bruce Springsteen Dylan was, pretty much since middle school, and how he'd hate for his life to turn out like that song, sitting around and talking shit about the glory days and never having anymore.

And so, maybe Dustin was right. Robin was cool, after all.