"In her kiss, I taste the revolution!"
Maeve Mayfield knew something was wrong with Hawkins as soon as her family moved there. Although moving from a progressive state to the Midwest can make you feel that way, she felt there was something more.
Fee...
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Maeve Mayfield was in a predicament. In her job at For The Record, the cashier's desk was located by the store's display window, providing a perfect view of the food court below. Thus, giving her the perfect view of Scoops Ahoy Ice Cream Parlor, and its two teen workers clad in nautical-themed uniforms. Maeve sat with her hand supporting her head and her elbow against the glass case they used as a check-out counter, staring in a daze as she watched the two brunettes sling perfect scoops of ice cream out to their gluttonous customers.
"How long do you think she's been sitting like that?" Beatrix asked the long-haired metalhead that was standing next to her.
"At least twenty minutes," Eddie nodded, "give or take a few..."
Maeve watched as the ice cream shop employees bickered, probably about Steve's constant need to stop and flirt with every female in his age range. There was a lull in customers, probably due to it being mid-morning, and the only customers they would get then were snot-nosed kids begging their parents for a cone, and those were few and far between on a Monday. She watched as young ladies lingered outside of the shop's storefront. Hoping to catch the ice cream man's eye.
"You know, things would go a lot faster if you just bucked up and talked to him already," Cyrus, her coworker, and Beatrix's brother, said as he came back behind the counter with a stack of vinyl records in his arms.
Maeve jumped at the sound of his voice. She looked at him and her two friends who stood planted in front of the counter with wide eyes, Beatrix and Eddie staring back at her with shit-eating grins.
"Hi," Beatrix said, lifting her hand to wiggle her fingers to give a teasing wave. Her box-dyed blonde hair looked like it hadn't been touched up in weeks, or at least since Maeve helped her dye it in the mall bathroom. The blonde stood at a mighty 5'4", sporting piercings and a jagged mullet. Her whole look screamed, "I'm not one to be fucked with."
"How long have you two been standing there?" Maeve asked them.
"Long enough to see you drooling over Steve Harington," Eddie Munson said with an equally impish smile. His long brunette hair cascaded down in contrast to his blue denim battle vest. Although it was summer, Eddie braved the heat in traditional metalhead fashion, wearing dark pants with chains hanging from his belt loops. Under his vest, he wore a Metallica shirt that was well past its prime, "Standards, Mae. You need standards."
"Oh," Maeve chuckled at his comment, "That's rich coming from a guy who got so drunk he-"
Eddie's eyebrows raised in shock as he held up his hands in protest, "You promised not to talk about that!" He lowered his hands and let out a breath, composing himself, "I'm just saying. You can do a lot better than Ice Cream Boy."
Maeve let out a sharp breath from her nose, looking through the stack of vinyl that Cyrus brought up. It was all new records that needed to be displayed. Perfect, she thought to herself, she had found a way out. "Cyrus, will you watch the register while I put these up?" Maeve asked.
