In which Lucas Sinclair's older sister spends her whole summer trying to tame Billy Hargrove.
NSFW: 18+ only
Contains Dark themes and sexual content that may not be suitable for people under the age of 18.
Read at your own risk-this essentially is...
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Chapter Seven: Babysitter
"Are you guys like, fighting?" Dustin Henderson's voice breaks the awkward silence of Steve's car. It had taken the group all of five minutes to notice that Lucas' older sister wasn't singing along to the songs on the radio or playfully reaching over to mess up Steve's hair like she usually did when they were around—it's what fueled the groups incessant teasing about when they'd get together already.
Neither had spoken a word since Dustin, Lucas, and Mike had gotten in the car, all squished together and somehow still perfectly comfortable.
"No."
"Absolutely."
Zara shot Steve a sharp look, a frustrated grunt passing her lips before she'd turned away from him completely. "Real mature, Harrington."
"Tell me what happened!"
"Nothing fucking happened!"
Steve's grip tightened on the steering wheel, his teeth grinding so hard against one another that the middle schoolers in the back were sure that one would chip.
He'd changed after gym, showering for ten minutes longer than usual and when Zara had teased him about it; he didn't respond with a snarky comment. He just stared at her, eyes squinted low in silent judgement and when he'd asked her that same question—what happened?—she couldn't even muster a response. She's just shrugged her shoulders and mumbled that she didn't know what he meant. "You're lying and you never lie. Not to me at least."
Zara's arms crossed over her chest, the maroon fabric of her tube top catching slightly on her bracelet. She scoffed, busying herself with trying to free it even though she knew everyone in the car was now staring at her; waiting for her to say something, anything. "I'm not lying."
"What, did you fuck him?"
"Okay, gross." Lucas groaned in disgust, his little hands raising to cover his ears in attempts to scrub them clean from the filth before him.
Mike and Dustin leaned in closer, softly whispering a collective, "Who?"
"No, Steve! Jesus fucking Christ." Zara's hands smacked against the bare skin of her thighs, the backs sweating slightly against the leather seats of his car. Her window was cracked slightly, the sides of her ponytail escaping the confines of her scrunchie as he sped a little faster down the dirt roads. "He gave me a ride home, okay. That's literally it, I don't understand why you're making such a huge deal out of nothing."
Steve's hand smacked the wheel, the car swirving a little and even though the boys knew that he'd never actually put them in harms way; Steve was pushing a fine line. "It's not nothing if you didn't want to tell me about it—and that whole scene he made about you during practice and in the shower, that is definitely something."
