𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 • Steve Harrington

Chapter 3

Julie rolled her eyes at his lack of subtly.

"The both of you are seniors due to graduate any day now, so I want you to do something a little different today," Principal Mueller continued, now standing up. "You're going to write a letter addressed to your future self. I don't want it to be truthful, I want it to be honest."

"Isn't that just the same thing?" Steve asked bemusedly.

"No." Principal Mueller rounded the desk, leaning against it with her hands at either side. "I don't want something realistic and grounded in fact. I want it to be reflective of what either of you have done that has resulted in you sitting where you are right now. Try to think about what you've learnt from the poor decisions you've made and how you intend to grow from them."

They both silently wondered what either of them did to end up there.

"Does that sound doable?"

Julie nodded, whilst Steve did no more than purse his lips and quirk his eyebrows. But it's enough to work up a satisfied smile from Principal Mueller, who pulled herself up from off the table.

"Fantastic."

"What do we do once we finish the letter?"

Steve's eyes shot to Julie, surprised to hear her voice. It was flat with an inflection of politeness that he hadn't heard from her before.

"Well, you're in a library. You can study or, better yet, sit in silence and take some long and grounding time to really reflect on your actions."

Julie could hear the traces of mordacity in her principal's tone, and it made her clench her teeth irritatedly.

"I'll be in and out to check in from time to time, but the vast majority of today I will be gone to attend to some duties. I trust you both to behave accordingly." She cocked her head pointedly, "Don't make me regret it."

The sound of her clunking heels carried their way down the hallway upon her leave, echoing through the open library door.

Steve lips trilled exhaustedly and his shoulders sank. He didn't know what to do with himself. He was given an instruction, but he didn't have the means to complete it.

When he looked over at Julie, she was sliding her book to one side and taking a notepad out of her bag instead, followed by a pencil case. Everything was so quiet that the sound of her movements and velcro pierced through the space alone.

"Hey, uh..."

Julie glanced over her shoulder again. In spite of her apathy, Steve was sure she had murder on her mind.

"Is it okay if I borrowed some paper? I didn't bring my backpack because I didn't think we'd get homework," he laughed lamely, then suddenly lost her eyes.

"Yeah, okay," she muttered.

If it wasn't so quiet, Steve was sure he wouldn't have caught it. He was stunned to say the least. "Thanks."

She turned around in her seat and began to rip two pages in her notepad. Steve met her at her table, watching as she carefully pulled at the dotted tear line and held out the lined paper without looking him in the eye.

"And a pen."

She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Or a pencil. Beggars can't be choosers and all."

She bit her tongue, blinking twice before digging for a pen and handing that over, too.

"Thank you."

Once he walked away, she picked up a pencil of her own.

Steve slipped back into his seat and once he settled, he twiddled the pen between his fingers and gnawed on the inside of his gum as he tried to think up a starting point.