Steve followed Julie into Benny's, his backpack hanging off his shoulder and his keys in his hand. He had pushed the door open for her instinctively, making her laugh regardless of the gratitude she voiced with an amused, "Thanks."
Once the door swung closed behind them, she told him, "Grab a table."
"Any particular preference?"
She shrugged. "Something by a window."
His lips slanted into a smile knowingly. "With enough space to study."
"You got it."
Then he left her alone by the counter where she waited patiently for Earl to leave the kitchen.
When he finally did some moments later, throwing a dishtowel over his shoulder, his face lit up. "Julie, didn't expect to see you here this time of the day. No school?"
"Yeah, I have a free period now and lunch coming up next, so I thought I'd spend them both here." She rested her arms on the countertop.
"Well, you're welcome any time, you know that."
She warmly smiled. "How are things?"
"Same ol', same ol'," he noticed her expression shift, "but don't let it get you down. I've been preparing for the worst in case south is where things are headed. It's not ideal, but it's not in my hands."
"I'm just sorry you have to do that at all."
"Ah, ah, ah. What did I say?"
"Don't let it get me down."
He smiled, too. "Sit. I'll bring you a chocolate shake with extra cream, how about it?"
"Can you make that two? I have—"
The tune of "Glory Days" by Bruce Springsteen ran through the room as if on cue, and both of their necks turned towards the jukebox that the culprit appeared to be walking away from with a bop in his step. He was snapping his fingers timely, too, and nodding his head all the way to the booth by the curtain window he slipped himself into.
"—company," Julie sighs.
Earl's lips curled at the heat in her plump cheeks. "Coming right up."
She walked over and slipped into the leather seat across from Steve, who'd been nodding his head and emptying out his backpack. He messily stacked textbooks and notepads alike.
"Nice choice."
He shrugged. "Figured everybody loves a bit of Springsteen."
Julie only quirked a brow, not baring so much as a smile as she dug into her backpack for her own textbooks and flashcards.
"But you."
"No, Springsteen's rad, it's just the whole mall thing. It's a total bummer, you know?"
Steve crossed his arms on top of the table and leaned forward. "You don't think this place is going to make it?"
"I want to hope so, but Earl, who took it over after the original owner passed, thinks otherwise."
His eyebrows drew together. "Your mom's pretty cool about the whole thing though."
"I think it's because we inherited a ton of money when my dad died. He had this secret account she didn't know about that came pretty much out of nowhere."
"For what?"
"I have no idea. The whole thing's totally sketchy, but it's written in her name. She kept pushing for more information on it but it's allegedly classified."
"But surely if it's in her name she has a right to know about it."
"It's just a thing with my dad. He keeps a lot of secrets and he's taken most of them to the grave. It's typical." She took a final textbook out, not realising she had taken her report card out with it.
"You're on report?"
She was immediately met with his glistening concern and it struck a chord. But she simply chose to act like it was no big deal—extremely well, too—and slipped the report card back in her bag. "Yeah, because of the whole smoking thing. Principal Mueller keeps going on about how out of character it is and how she thinks I need to believe in myself. It's a total load."
"Is it?" He didn't sound convinced.
"Yes," she hugged herself. "I'll admit I never used to smoke, but you gotta start somewhere."
"No... I don't think you do."
"You're telling me you haven't smoked a cigarette a day in your life. You? Steve Harrington?"
He couldn't deny it. "But I quit."
"And the ball drops," she smiled smugly.
"If I ever do go to college, I'll probably try out for varsity basketball. Can't do that with shitty lungs on my side, can I?"
"What is up with that?" she unfolded her arms and leant forward, too, leaning her arms on the table as she weaved her fingers together. "'If I got to college.'"
Steve tilted his head. "Don't say it like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you think it's just a detour on the way to an easy life for me or something."
"Okay, I wasn't remotely thinking that, you're just projecting. I was thinking that you're made for more than you give yourself credit for," she shrugs. "You're quick-witted and you're way nicer than I ever pinned you out to be."
"I haven't always been." He bowed his head. "In fact, I was a horrible person to a lot of people."
"Yeah, I heard something like that." She searched his face. He was tearing himself up about it. "What changed?"
"I fell for Nancy Wheeler."
"Ah."
"I'm not saying she changed me, even if she may have for a while, it's more of a reality check thing. You know, you spend time with someone that actually cares about the wellbeing of other people and it opens your eyes to the people who don't, and I was surrounded by a lot of people who didn't. Was one of them."
"Exactly. Was. You know the surge of effectively awful kids that peak in high school?"
He wasn't sure where she was going with this. "I have an idea."
"You're now no longer one them. You beat it whilst your youth's still fresh and gave yourself an opportunity to live a more exciting life once you graduate." Her gruelling optimism was infectious. "How many other knuckleheads can say that?"
"You were doing well until you slipped in the insult there."
"For good measure," she smiled.
His lips curled as well. They were two kids, leant forward across from one another in an empty diner with Springsteen running through the air around them.
"You're not your past, Steve. You're a good guy now, and all of that other shit doesn't matter, so don't let it."
And just like that, he felt better.
"Okay?"
He nodded. "Yeah, okay."
"Okay."
He was wordless. But he couldn't stop smiling at her. It was like he was seeing her all over again for the very first time. Her blue eyes weren't cold, they were pools of electricity. Her skin wasn't pale, it was fair, toned with traces of pink in her cheeks and decorated with freckles along her nose bridge.
"That."
"What?"
She shook her head slightly. "Just that. What you did with your eyes."
"Stare at you?"
"Yeah," she leaned forward more if that was possible, really observing him. "But it's not any staring, it's googly-eyed staring. You know, the kind that's on the cusp of making you think the eyeballs might fall out of their skull but they're just precious enough that you know they're only gazing."
He felt heat flood his cheeks, but her smile didn't make him feel all that embarrassed about it.
"You have it, and that's why I'm pushing you to flirt with these chicks, because that stare shouldn't go to waste." She shoved his arm a little before sitting back completely.
"Googly-eyed staring?"
"Googly-eyed staring," she repeated with a hint of finality. "No stare compares."
"Two chocolate shakes."
Julie pulled her eyes away from Steve easily, grinning brilliantly at the grey-bearded man placing down two tall parfait glasses towering with whipped cream and straws sticking out in front of them. "Thank you. Our Earl here's made them with extra love today."
"Well, you know how to put a man in good spirits, darlin'. It's only fair."
Steve couldn't agree more.
"You treat her good, young man," Earl told him sternly.
"Oh, he can try, but I'll only treat him better," said Julie.
"Ain't that the truth. Whatever else you need."
"Thank you," Steve and Julie replied, their slight asynchrony overlapping as Earl left their table.
And once he was entirely gone, disappearing into the kitchen, Steve said, "You just lied to that poor man."
"How?" she tasted the milkshake.
"You'll treat me better?"
"I was honest."
"I'm not talking about your phoney honesty, I'm talking about truthfulness. And last time I checked, truthfulness is when things are grounded in fact, correct?"
"Well, if a know-it-all says it, it must be true."
"All you do is berate me."
"Hey! I have been nothing but nice to you today."
"You called me a knucklehead."
"I said you were one," she corrected pointedly, "past tense, and you agreed with me."
"And what happened to the whole 'you're not your past' spiel?" he moved the milkshake on his side of the table closer to himself as Julie narrowed her eyes into slits at him and sipped on her own from its straw.
"Now that's a stare. That angry, squinty death glare that you do. It's powerful."
She flipped him off from where her hand was rested on the table.
"Hey, too far!"
She smiled triumphantly.
There was no better rush than the one she got from ruffling a white dove's feathers, even if she could see it had a broken wing.