Haze & Hellfire

Chapter 6: Battered Boys and Shattered Girls

"About..." Dallas wipes sweat from her forehead with the hem of her t-shirt. "97? It was hot as hell nonetheless. Think they broke the old heat record two years ago or something. I didn't go out for like... three days?"

Chrissy releases the straw from between her wonky pearly-whites and nods.

"Thanks, it suddenly got a bit less warm around here, don't you think?" She sighs while fanning herself with her hand.

Dallas laughs and bumps her hip into Chrissy's.

"So... just to be clear; you think I should do it?" Dallas asks for probably the third time since they left the ice cream shop downtown, where they'd spent another few dollars on two scoops of mint chocolate chip, classic vanilla, chocolate brownie bomb and blueberry blazzzt that, according to Chrissy, was waaay better than the ice cream at Scoops Ahoy that was the former ice cream mekka of Hawkins. "I mean, the chances of it LEADING to something serious is..." Dallas grimaces, indicating that her chances are fairly low.

"Of course!" Chrissy smiles excitedly, squinting in the bright sun. "I'm SURE there's more girls thinking the same thing you do!"

Dallas vented her thoughts about putting an ad in Creem-magazine about wanting to form an all-girl rock band.

"In Hawkins?" Dallas asks doubtfully.

"Okay maybe not in Hawkins." Chrissy admits. "But Indianapolis isn't that far! There's plenty of potential there!"

The forever optimist has spoken. Dallas smiles and picks a piece of chocolate chip from between her front teeth.

"Okay! I'll do it then."

"You better!" Chrissy smirks, then she gets an excited expression on her face. "Oh please, can you have matching outfits!" She exclaims, almost jumping up and down as she walks next to Dallas. "I've always loved bands who have matching outfits! Oh, and choreography!"

"Eh, no on the choreography. Maybe on the outfits. But only if they're leather." Dallas replies, thinking that it wouldn't be such a bad idea. It worked for the Runaways! To be fair, she has a pretty neat ass. Not sure the stiff leather would think the same. "And studs." She adds. "Lots of them!"

Chrissy squeals with excitement, hooks her arm into Dallas' and leans her head at her shoulder as they continue down the road.

They've known each other for just a few weeks and spent almost every day together since Dallas got both her and Chrissy kicked out of the public pool. A few very intense weeks where they've been hanging out almost every day and night.

They've taken long night walks; eaten ice cream; layed on a blanket in Dallas' garden, listened to music and talked until their throats were hoarse. Chrissy has even spent the night at the Haze's house.

One night they dug out mom and dad's old camping tent and put it up in the garden, underneath the apple tree; other nights they slept next to each other in Dallas' bed, reading smutty adult short stories in romance magazines and dad's old horror fiction magazines under the covers with a flashlight, while listening to the heavy rain beat against the window and the thunder roaring over the rooftops in the neighborhood; they've been to a party together -that Dallas tried her best to weasel out of, without any luck- in the empty football field at Hawkins High where Dallas got a crash course in the different cliques one had to know who they was to not be labeled a complete idiot the first day of the new semester.

That night in the football field Chrissy kissed Jason "saphead" Carver for the first time, while Dallas watched from afar, making sure that it went fair and square, not liking what she witnessed for a dime. But she let them be. Partially because the banger "The Warrior" with Patty Smyth and the Scandal blasted out of a car stereo and she had to find whoever was guilty of such a genius move and partially because she'd ask Chrissy to literally scream her fucking heart out if she needed her. Luckily Chrissy didn't need any help. Maybe because she had Jason's icky tongue halfway down her windpipe. Either way, Dallas could listen to the song without any interruptions.