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Of course you had known Steve Harrington since forever. Of course you had. Yet, there was a catch. There was always a catch. Steve didn’t know you. You sat behind him in English and Chemistry, noticing the poor marks on his homework, essays, and tests. Your parents wouldn’t approve. A straight-A student, you were on your way to going to a fancy Ivy league college, like Harvard or Yale. Yet, your heart strayed from what you knew was wrong.
Somehow, that all changed later in the year, when you were assigned as a tutor to Steve. God, he was a jerk. He never paid attention, rather spending time writing songs down to put on a cassette or planning another party. As you finished out your year with him, he started to pay attention to you. Talking about Nancy and how much he loved her.
It was all Nancy. Nancy, Nancy, Nancy. He brought her to the party at the beginning of senior year. But he stormed out of the house. Instead of trying to get Nancy home, like you should have, you chased him down.
“Steve!” you shouted, catching up to him. “Hey, you can’t drive like this. Look, let me drive you home, you can unwind on the way, and I’ll walk home from your house.”
Steve whirled on you, his eyes red and bloodshot. “You don’t want to do that.”
“Actually, yes, I do dingus. Because there’s something called ‘I care about you and don’t want you driving home in this state’.”
Steve stared at you for a second, taking longer to process than he did when he was trying to figure out how to do a pre-calculus problem. “Okay,” he finally said. “Okay, I’ll let you drive my car.”
You reached for the keys, ready to take him home as soon as possible. As your fingers brushed against the keys, Steve yanked them out of reach. “On the condition-” You groaned, knowing what was going to come out of his mouth. “that you drive five miles per hour under the speed limit.”
“I haven’t even taken a sip of that stupid alcoholic punch, Steve. Look, me and your car will be just fine. You on the other hand… You’re not looking so hot, Harrington.”
“Being told that I’m bullshit will do that to you,” he said, getting into the passenger seat of the car. You sat in the driver's seat, fixing the settings on his car before finally being able to get your feet on the pedals. You ran your hand through your hair and put the car in drive.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” you all but demanded of him as you pulled away from the party. Steve was so hung up on Nancy… Your heart hurt just to even think about it. After what happened last year with Barbara going missing, Will being dead and then suddenly not dead, and Nancy canoodling around with Jonathan, it had been a rough year for everyone. Nancy seemed to be taking a long while to work through Barbara’s disappearance and as much Steve tried to help her, she kept pushing him away.
“Apparently I’m bullshit,” Steve said again, quite obviously angry. “Our relationship is bullshit, Barabara’s disappearance is bullshit, oh, and she doesn’t love me.”
“Steve,” you said quietly as you turned down the street that would lead to his house. “Maybe there’s just some things she has to work through. Maybe… it’s a right person at the wrong time kind of thing.”
“Then what is the right time?!” Steve snapped, his head whipping to stare at you. You knew he was angry. But knowing what he said, what he’s feeling, understanding why he was angry… all it did was make you feel sorry for him. Sorry for him, sorry for yourself.
“I… I don’t know, Steve,” you said quietly as you slowed down the car, already seeing his house. You smiled sadly. “If I knew, don’t you think I’d be with him?”
Steve looked away, out the window. He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. That’s not fair. You’re… you’re a great friend.”
The word caused more pain in your heart than you wanted to feel. Friend. The word rang over and over in your head as you pulled into Steve’s driveway. You pulled the keys out from the ignition before handing them to Steve. “Just… maybe give her time. Take a break for a few months. See where you stand after that. Things don’t have to happen immediately in order to be happy, Steve.”
Steve stared at you as you slipped out of the car. Despite never being in a relationship, you understood what it felt like to be so close to someone you loved… but yet so far away. Steve stumbled out of the car and walked over to you, grabbing your wrist.
“Hey,” he said quietly. “It’s not safe to walk home in the dark this late.”
“I’m not inept,” you said dryly before digging in your pockets. You practically shoved your pepper spray in his face. “See?”
“Still,” he said, tilting his head in concern. “Look, the couch is comfortable. Or you can take my bed, or-”
“Don’t you have a guest bed?” you asked, raising your eyebrow. “Did you have too much punch at the party, King Steve?”
Steve was silent for a moment before answering the question. “Yeah. Yeah we have a guest bedroom.”
You nodded. “Sounds… sounds great, Steve.”
As you sat near the window in the guest bedroom, you could feel your heart shatter. Steve… Steve would never move on from Nancy. He couldn’t. He loved her with everything he had… and where did that leave you? What position did that put you in?
Before you knew it, tears were escaping your eyes and pouring down your face. Strangled hiccups and cries escaped your mouth as you rested your head on your knees. Mascara ran, highlighting the fact that you were crying.
How could you be so stupid to fall in love with Steve? King Steve, Steve “The Hair” Harrington, popular Steve… and you fell in love with him. The straight-A nerd, who reads every new released book you could get your hands on, coming up with D&D campaigns despite having no one to play it with, fell in love with Steve.
You cried and cried, unable to stop. Crying for your broken heart, crying for Steve’s broken heart, crying for the unfairness of love and high school. You should be used to it, you tell yourself. Used to the heartbreak and the pain… But the reality of it is, pulling yourself away from Steve would leave a hole where your love for him continued to grow. But it would heal over. Continuing to… to love Steve… it ate away at you. For loving someone you can’t have, you can’t ever have… was the worst form of torture.