𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘢𝘵𝘴 ~ 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen:
Jazzercise 
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"You see anything?" Dustin asked, peering through the spaces between the plant leaves.

"Uh, I guess I don't totally know what I'm looking for." Steve answered, holding the binoculars to his eyes steadily.

"Ramona would know." Dustin muttered, raising his hands in surrender when Steve lowered his binoculars to shoot him a look.

"Yeah? Well, she's not here yet." Steve scoffed, "So can you just tell me?" 

"Evil Russians."

"Yeah, exactly. I don't know what an evil Russian looks like!"

"Tall, Blond, not smiling." Dustin said simply, shrugging as Steve hummed in acknowledgment. "Also, look for earpieces, camo, duffel bags, that sort of thing."

"Right, okay... Duffel bags." Steve's voice quieted as he lifted his eyes to the balcony above. "Oh, you've gotta be kidding me."

"What?" Dustin asked excitedly, ready for a clue in the Russian fiasco.

"Anna Jacobi's talking with that meathead Mark Lewinsky."

"Dude, if you're not gonna focus just give me the binoculars." Dustin said, rolling his eyes as his patience with the recently graduated boy began to wear thin.

"Aw, Jesus Christ! Whatever happened to standards? I mean, Lewinsky never even came off the bench!"

"Dude, you are the worst spy in history, you know that?" Dustin grumbled, reaching up and pulling the binoculars from Steve's hands. "Besides, I don't get why you're looking at girls. You have the perfect one in front of you."

"Seriously? If you say Robin again-"

"Ramona." Dustin said, causing Steve's heart to skip a beat as he turned to look at Dustin in shock.

"What? García?" Steve stammered, shaking his head quickly. "No, don't. No way."

"Ramona, Ramona, Ramona!" Dustin taunted.

"No."

"Ramona."

"Stop it." Steve said, forcing the blush down from rising upon his cheeks, "I mean it.

"Ramona. You're clearly head over heels in love with her already." Dustin snickered at Steve's expression. "And she clearly doesn't 'dislike' you as much as she says she does. And I'm willing to bet that she even feels the same."

"No!" Steve hissed, "No, man, I'm not, no. She's-She's not my type. She's not even.. not even in the ballpark of what my type is, all right?"

"What's your type again? Not awesome?" Dustin pouted, shaking his head as he continued to look around the mall. 

Steve rolled his eyes, "Thank you."

"Hm." Dustin hummed, rolling his eyes as he raised the binoculars in front of his vision.

"Okay, and for your information, she's still in school, and she's Nancy's best friend. And she won't teach me Spanish, I don't like that she won't teach me Spanish. She could be talking about me and I wouldn't know! And she did softball? Kind of a bad look... And she's in AP for some things!"