Ambivalence

S3 Chapter 17 - Suzie, Do You Copy?

(Pictured above Y/n's Uniform)

Summer of 1985. My summer.

Entry #240, Friday, June 28, 1985.

So, I'm still keeping this secret about being waitlisted. Like, totally embarrassing and I feel so ashamed. I've been feeding everyone this line about not hearing back and my application getting lost in the mail. Classic, right? But I'm pretty sure Steve sees through my act. What a joke.

My summer is basically one big work shift at the theater. Okay, it's technically a new job because the old downtown theater closed.

This weekend, Steve and I have plans to catch a movie. Still annoyed at him for blabbing about our secret entrance to the kids. Seriously, Steve? Get a grip.

Oh, and I'm rolling with Mrs. Henderson to pick up Dustin. That should be fun, something different from working or hanging with Steve

I seriously need to up my social game. This journal is getting way too much action. Like, hello, I need a life outside of these pages.

***

Nestled in the dimly lit back corner of Scoops Ahoy, I sit huddled with Steve, my feet propped up on the small aluminum table. The air is thick with the scent of melting ice cream and nostalgia as we gossip about his latest failed date. My attempts to pay attention are futile; the words flow in one ear and out the other.

Suddenly, a faint ringing shatters our conversation.

"Hey, dingus, your children are here," Robin calls out, her voice cutting through the ambient sounds of the bustling mall.

Steve, with his doe-eyed expression, rises from his seat, flinging the glass window open. Through it, a scene unfolds — Max, Lucas, Mike, and Will stand outside, their presence felt even before they enter.

"Again? Seriously?" Steve's exasperation fills the air. In retaliation, Mike rings the bell once more, a mischievous grin on his face.

With a quick shuffle, Steve leads the group through the back door, their eyes nervously scanning the surroundings.

"You kids are real assholes, you know that?" I tease, injecting some sass into the atmosphere.

"Sorry, Y/n!" Max speaks with a childish smile as they file out the back door. "Come on, come on!" Steve hustles them, a hint of anxiety in his voice. "I swear, if anybody hears about this-"

"We're dead!" They shout back in unison, their voices echoing through the narrow passageways.

As the door closes, Steve turns back to me, his complexion appearing rather pale.

"You never should have told them..." I sigh, removing my feet from the table. "Who knows... maybe once I'm back from my break, I'll tell good old Gary that some juvenile delinquents are trespassing in theater 8."

"Is it just me, or has she gotten more blunt in the last year?" Robin observes through the window, her head resting on top of her arms.

"Right? It's like a new attitude." Steve adds, nodding in agreement with the bug-eyed blonde.

"I don't wanna hear it, Sailor One and Sailor Two." I huff, grabbing my book bag — a makeshift purse for work.

"Yeah, yeah, at least I don't come home smelling like popcorn every day." Harrington quips.

"Prick."

"Drama-queen."

"Slut."

"Freak."