FOUR: THIS IS STEVE HARRINGTON AND HE HAS NICE HAIR
november 1st, 1984.
"Okay, Steve, you can leave now."
"I don't have anywhere else to be."
Rosalie turned to Steve who was standing in the doorway of her home, his shoulders raised in a casual shrug. A small grin tugged on the lips of Steve Harrington as he glanced at her from under his eyelashes. Her eyebrow rose at him, waiting for him to laugh - because this had to have been a joke. When he didn't chuckle, she asked, "you're serious?"
"I don't have basketball practice. I don't have to help Nancy study, or drive her home, or..," he trailed off and Rosalie dropped her bag when she saw him look down and his eyes drop. She recognized that look before. There was a dark hum in the depth of his soul.
"You're in the dark and twisties."
"The what?" Steve's head looked up.
"The dark and twisties," she explained as she sighed deeply and leaned against the cream colored wall of her hallway. "It's what my mom and I call it when something bad happened to you and its bothering you and you over think it in your head. It's that dark place where you over think all the bad things, sort of like an endless void. The dark and twisties. It's not a good place."
A small grin passed his mouth as he nodded and shut the door behind him. His blue eyes ignited with little faith as he exhaled, "dark and twisties, I'll be sure to stay clear from them."
Rosalie pursed her lips and right as she was about to tell him something, the phone rang and she pushed herself off the wall. "I guess you can chill here until my mom gets back from work..," she suggested before gesturing him into her home. She entered the kitchen, flipping on the lights, and pulling the mint green phone off the receiver.
"Hello?" She asked into the phone, hearing the front door shut from behind.
"Tell. Me. Everything." Ivy. Of course. "Did you guys actually hook up in his car this time? He was totally checking you out when you guys were walking away and"-
"Vee." Rosalie stopped her friend while her brown eyes shot to Steve when he entered the kitchen, she scoffed.
"What?" Ivy groaned. "Oh. Wait, is he there? Still?!Are you guys about to"-
"I'm going to call you later tonight, okay?" She couldn't tell Ivy everything she wanted to hear with him standing right there. Not that there was much to tell, but she wouldn't be able to think with Steve laughing at her answers. She needed to be alone.
"Hm," Ivy hummed, then sighed. "Okay, fine. Don't forget to call."
"I won't." Rosalie turned to face the painted wall, trying not to laugh out loud nor show Steve the blush in her cheeks.
"Bye." She hung the phone back up and turned around. Steve sat at the dinner table, his legs stretched out in the brown chair, a big grin on his face.
"Was that your mom?" He asked, his mouth fighting a smug smile.
Rosalie squinted her eyes at him, "you know that was not my mom."
"Yeah, well I know how mom's can be; checking you out - I mean checking on you. Sorry," he scoffed, attempting to play off his joke. shaking his head as Rosalie's cheeks warmed. "Don't know where that came from." She exhaled as she slipped out of her jacket, and setting it on the back of her chair.
"Ivy is just very..," Rosalie started trying to find the right words, "interested."
"I like your house." Steve inhaled looking around the small kitchen, changing the subject swiftly, "I told you that last night when we came here, but I'm guessing you probably don't remember that."
"It's not as nice as yours," Rosalie commented mostly to herself. "Tell me about last night and this time try not to lie to me," she suggested as she walked over to her refrigerator and opened it up in search of a snack.
"Well, I got my heart ripped to shreds"-
She whipped her head over to him, "hey. I'm pretty sure you shouldn't be reminiscing on sad stuff like that."
"You're pretty sure?" Steve chuckled as she rolled her eyes and grabbed a water bottle. He was as faithless in her as she was in herself. Did he expect her to be an expert on how to glue a person's life together? Because she was barely holding her life together as is.
"Yes," she mumbled unsure. "Just.. no dark and twisties." She waited to continue, waiting to see a clarified nod from Steve. "What exactly happened after we got food? We went to that restaurant.." her mind shifted back to the almost forgotten waitress and the cheeseburger.
"Well, you rejected me in my most vulnerable state." Her eyes rolled as he continued with his humor, "which, might I add, doesn't exactly happen to me. Ever." Her mind trailed back to the kiss in his car. Her lips pursed as she fought a smile once again.
"Hm. I'm one of a kind, that's what they tell me," she spoke sarcastically while she walked back over to the table and sat across from him. Steve grinned just as sarcastically at her before he sighed deeply and sat up in his chair. He set his hand against his face as he tried to remember. His eyes shifted away from her and back into her kitchen.
"Yeah. Right. Anyways, afterward, we were driving - well, I was, back to your house after you gave me your address. Then, right as we pulled up you said you wanted to sleep at my house. And I remember I said to you, 'you don't want to kiss me but you want to sleep with me?' And you just laughed your ass off like I told you the funniest joke in the world. You laughed, I mean a real laugh, for about ten minutes. I don't think I've heard anyone laugh so hard in my life. It was pretty funny," Steve chuckled at the memory. "Anyway, when we got inside, your mom was in the basement painting and we were barely through the hallway before she was running up the stairs. It was really weird, she just stood there looking at me, then you, then me again. She had paint on her clothes and looked really frantic. We all kind of just sat there, I think you started humming this song? For a second I thought your mom was going to murder me. But then you just leaned against the wall, pointed to me and said, 'mom this is Steve Harrington, he has nice hair.' Your mom thought you had brought me back to your house so we could have sex."
Mom was here!? And she.. she saw Steve..?
Rosalie's cheeks brightened as she set her water bottle down. "I am.. so sorry." She could only imagine the inappropriate things her mother probably tried to muster up or dig out of Steve. Her mother didn't own a filter, she said what she wanted and felt how she felt unapologetically. It was that moment that she vowed never to leave her and Steve in a room together alone, ever again.
Steve laughed, "don't be. She was really funny. She kept pestering you about how she told you she was going to be home and if you wanted to have a guy over, then you needed to be much smarter about it."
"That definitely sounds like her," Rosalie muttered while crossing her arms and sinking into her chair.
Steve cracked a smile. "When you went upstairs - which took forever because you claimed you were stuck to the floor. We offered help, but you just got so angry with us whenever we tried so we stayed in the kitchen and talked, waiting for you to finish upstairs."
"What'd you guys talk about?" She reached for her water, and took a calm sip, trying not to come off as nervous.
"Just about the party," Steve shrugged as he leaned back against his chair and scratched his neck, "some things about school here and there, she mentioned your dad."
Rosalie's back froze up and she clenched her teeth together. Her mind haltered at the mention of her father. The moment folded into itself together, and slipped out of her back pocket as she sat in her chair and looked blankly forward. She blacked out, she remained conscious but as her stomach twisted and her hands gripped the chair; she just.. blanked. It wasn't until her head was spinning that she realized she wasn't breathing. A slow breath exhaled from her mouth and her eyes shifted to Steve while she came back to Earth.
"What did you say?"
"What just happened? Are you okay? You sorta just.. blacked out.. or something," Steve trailed off as he stayed at her eye level. He had left his seat to kneel in front of her. Rosalie hadn't even seen him move. "Are you in the -what did you call it - dark stringy thing?"
"Dark and twisties?" She clarified, smiling at his attempt.
"Yeah. That." He pointed and she slowly nodded. There was a small silence as her eyes stayed on the floor of the kitchen. She resented her mother for talking to Steve about her father. She didn't want anyone to know, she wanted her father to disappear entirely, like she had spent years trying to do in her consciousness.
"New rule; I won't ask about Barb.. you won't ask about my dad." Rosalie told Steve and he nodded.
"Yeah, if it shakes you up that bad..," he trailed off his words and rubbed her shoulder soothingly. His head nodded and his sad eyes shifted to a more concerned emotion, "no talking about Dad, it's at the top of my Rose To-Do List."
She laughed softly and he chuckled with her, while the two paused from laughing the front door swung open. Steve's hand dropped from her shoulder while he looked over as Rosalie's mother entered the house. Genevieve closed the front door and it wasn't until after she walked down the corridor that she saw her daughter with Steve Harrington. In their kitchen. Again.
"Hm, this is fine. I am completely fine with this." Her mom spoke from the entrance of the kitchen. Steve stood from where he previously knelt in front of Rosalie. She shook her head after looking away from his humorous features.
"Mom," she started but her mom simply shook her head and walked passed them.
"Nice to see you again Steve," she patted his shoulder, "bringing my daughter home sober this time, thank you." Her mother set a bag of groceries on the counter as Steve chuckled awkwardly this time.
"You're welcome..," he trailed off as Rosalie groaned once again. Her mom was so nosey. She was definitely 'cooler' than other parents; yes, not giving her a curfew, letting her smoke in the house (as long as she was in the bathroom, with the shower on, and blowing the smoke outside the window), and not getting on her about her grades. But her mom didn't understand boundaries. She was a very open, expressive person. She lived by her own rules.
"Are you planning on joining us for dinner, Steve?" The way she implied her question made Rosalie glare.
"Let me just say this, for probably the twentieth time today: Steve Harrington and I - it's not like that. We're friends. We are not a couple, we are not friends with benefits, we are just friends. Okay?"
"Someone's moody." Her mother dropped her hands and sighed, her eyes squinted, "he told you I talked to him about your dad, didn't he?"
Rosalie shut her furious eyes.
"I'll.. let myself out." Steve piped up in the pause of the heated moment.
"Thank you," Rosalie exhaled an exhausting breath. She turned towards him as he walked towards the front door.
Before he left, Steve turned to her and flipped his black shades over his eyes, "I'll call you, around eight."
"Why?"
He gave her an oblivious look, "because you need to make sure my life isn't spiraling out of control. Rose, how many times do I have to tell you this?"
Rosalie crossed her arms, "okay, yeah. Eight o'clock."
"Eight o'clock," Steve replied before shutting the door behind himself. Rosalie waited until she heard his car pull out from her driveway before she stumbled into the kitchen. Her mother was putting groceries away, only to pause and lean over the counter towards her daughter. Curiosity brightened her eyes.
"What was that about?"
"Nothing."
"Did you two just plan to have phone sex later?" Her mother laughed into her warm hands, "do you need me to leave the house in case he wants to come over? And over and over..," her mother trailed off, unloading the remainder of the groceries.
"Oh my god!" Rosalie's hands dig into her head while her mom snickered at her pun, "you're impossible. I just told you.."
"Do you want to talk about it?" Her eyes softened and Rosalie turned her heel towards the steps.
"Nope, we don't talk about it."
Her mother ran around the island and chased after her. "Okay, okay. I get it, you're upset with me"-
"Upset?" Rosalie whipped around on the steps to face her mother, "Mom you told him about.." she took a deep breath and exhaled slowly before going on a rant where there was no return.
"Sorry." She squeaked scratching her short curly locks. Rosalie dropped her hand from her face and sighed as she studied at her mom. Her mom had no filter, it wasn't her fault.
"It's fine, I forgive you."
Her mother beamed and took her daughter's hands in her own, "great! Now you can finally tell me about your night!"
"Okay," she exhaled walking back down the steps with her mother. "But lets just get this off the table; Nancy Wheeler is an evil bitch, and I did not have sex with Steve Harrington."
»«
"Wow, your mom.. I can't believe she told him," Ivy gasped into her side of the receiver. Rosalie spun around in her chair as she looked up at the ceiling. She had turned her phone on speaker so that she could finishing braiding her washed hair.
"Neither can I. But, you know," she dropped her tired arms from her hair and exhaled deeply, "I've learned to live with the cards that I'm dealt with."
Her hands ran through her freshly washed curls as Ivy hummed, "I guess it's true what they say, when life gives you Harrington - make sure he doesn't run out of hair spray."
"Ivy." Rosalie scolded and tried not to laugh.
Ivy laughed, "what?"
"Just.. cut the guy some slack. He's hurting," Rosalie ran her fingers through her soft hair, detangling the curls before lathering hair cream between both her hands and applying it to the second half of her hair. Her mind went back to the night that had endless tears. "Bad."
"Yeah," Ivy was probably rolling her annoyed eyes, "well, everyone's hurting."
Rosalie changed the subject as she glanced down at the phone. "Hey, what time is it?"
"Why do you keep asking?"
She had been asking Ivy every other chance she got ever since she had gotten on the phone with her and the sun went down. "Because I need to do something at eight," she explained briefly and quietly, hopping she couldn't her answer.
"Is it Steve?" Ivy questioned with hidden intentions. "Do you have to do Harrington at eight? Is that what you meant when you said your mom caught you guys having a 'moment' in the kitchen earlier"-
"No." Rosalie glared as her fingers braided her hair back. "Would you just tell me what time it is?"
Ivy exhaled deeply as she paused, most likely glancing at the clock that was across her room. She heard her friend picked the phone back up off wherever it was she had set it down on. "It's seven fifty-seven."
"I'll talk to you tomorrow," Rosalie promised causing Ivy to scoff. After twirling the ends of her hair, she picked the phone back up and shut off the speaker mode.
"Yeah, I hope. I expect details. Lots and lots of"-
"Okay, Vee..!" Rosalie chuckled softly, "details tomorrow, I'll call you. Bye."
"Mhm, bye," Ivy mumbled and then there was a click. Rosalie sighed deeply, setting her phone back down on the receiver. She set the phone down and set her hands on the back of her damp head. Her two braids laid against her chest and for a moment her eyes shut. While she sat in her seat she found herself thinking about tomorrow and what the day would bring. Hopefully a lot better than today had gone for her. She hoped she never had to go through a day like today ever again. Rumors after rumors, fights after fights. Ugh. The silence was interrupted by the ringing of her phone. Her heart leapt as she opened her eyes and, without having any ration thought, grabbed the phone.
"Steve?" Rosalie squeaked, hating herself for knowing it was him. When she heard his chuckle through the phone she grinned.
"Were you expecting another phone call at eight o'clock?" He teased and her eyes rolled, knowing he was only messing with her. "What are you doing right now?"
"I just finished braiding my hair," she smoothed her hands over her braids as she twirled in her seat from side to side. "Just got off the phone, procrastinating homework, talking to you," she listed all the answers to his question as her fingers kept track. Steve hummed and from the sound of it, he switched positions. Was he lying down somewhere or sitting up straighter?
"Interesting," he sounded genuinely surprised, better than earlier. "I just finished doing the same things."
"Who did you just get off the phone with?" Rosalie leaned into the phone as she glanced out her dark window.
"My dad," he answered. "He was calling from Wyoming, says his meeting will only take a few more days."
Steve hadn't ever talked about his dad before. Rosalie paused, thinking of the correct question to ask. After a moment she asked, "are you worried about him?"
Steve scoffed, almost laughing. "It's fine with me, I'm used to it, it's my mom who should be worried."
"Why should she be worried?" Rosalie felt her eyes glue to the dark skyline and felt her words make a masterpiece all on their own.
Steve sighed deeply, "they both have trust issues after my dad cheated on her the first time."
Her eyes cut away from the window and she inhaled deeply before sitting back into her chair, "shitty fathers are another thing we have in common."
He laughed. "What else do we have in common?"
"Our amazing hair of course." This time, Steve's laugh came from a genuine place, it wasn't forced nor fake. She laughed with him, on the other side of the phone and listened to the sound of something magical that she hadn't heard in a while; a broken heart putting itself back together.
"Is your mom home with you?" He asked after he collected himself.
Rosalie glanced over her shoulder to make sure her mom hadn't been standing in the doorway of her room, which always had to be open all of the time, well except of course when she was changing. Genevieve had a 'no-closed-doors' policy in the house. "Yeah, I think so." She answered then turned back to face her desk, "why, is your mom not home with you?"
"No." He answered, and Rosalie gasped.
"Do you want me to come over?"
There was a small pause before he spoke. "A little bit." Another pause. He let out a small breath, "actually, yes. Rose, would you mind coming over? Just for a bit. I don't want to be alone." He spoke so quickly, it was clear he hadn't wanted to admit to being alone.
She smiled as she eyed her keys that were set on her desk. "I will be over in fifteen minutes or less."
"Okay," he mumbled in a small voice.
"Good bye, Steve." Rosalie cracked a smile, trying to ween him off the phone. She could hear the glee return to his voice before he sighed.
"See you soon, Rose."
After he said his farewell, she set her phone down and hopped over to her closet. The first pairs of shoes her hands landed on were her pair of blue rain boots. She tugged on the mid calf rubber boots and turned back to her desk and grabbed her keys. The lights in her room shut off with the switch of her hand and she was down the hall before her mother reached the doorway to her own room. She stood, watching her daughter, and crossed her arms.
"It's a school night," her mother commented, slowing Rosalie's movements. "What did you and Steve talk about?"
"He just needs help with some homework," Rosalie stretched the truth as she turned around to face her mom. Her foot stepped down the first step and she had to look away from her mother's pointed hazel eyes. Instead, she looked at the painting of the smiling pastel African-American family that hung on the wall in the hall, across from the bathroom. "I won't be out too late," she added quickly.
"Fine." Her mother exhaled, "call me by eleven, if you're still at his house, or wherever it is you're trying to sneak off to."
"Mom."
"Hurry on, Rosalie," her mother said turning her heel and returning into her room.
Rosalie climbed down the stairs, trying to stay even and calm while her mind was anything but. She was trying to remember how to get to Steve's house, while also thinking of exactly what to do when she got to Steve's. What, were they just going to sit around and do homework? Rant about Nancy Wheeler the entire night? Because Rosalie could not stomach another person ranting about how she had done them wrong. Ivy did that enough as is.
While she drove down the street, she remembered the night, the one that had taken place over a year ago, right at the end of Summer when her along with Ivy, Nancy and Barbra went to a party at Steve's house. It was Rosalie's first big party, along with Barb who had been dreading it all week. "You don't have to go," Rosalie remembered telling Barb that night in the back seat of her mom's black truck.
"We're only doing this for Nance," Barb had whispered back. "She wants to see where Steve Harrington lives, or something. She better make a move tonight or all of this will have been for nothing."
The entire night had all been for nothing. The four new sophomores - Ivy, Nancy, Barb, and Rosalie - had spent the night avoiding spiked drinks and wasted boys that were in their grade. When Nancy had spotted Steve that night she walked up to him, tapped his shoulder and smiled, when she opened her mouth to speak, no words came out. She just stood there, in front of Steve, her mouth hanging open. Barb ran to her side, laughed and said, "she's soo wasted," then took Nancy by the arm and tugged her out of the house. Ivy spent the rest of the night analyzing the encounter over and over, while Nancy stayed quiet. She told the girls later that week that it had been the best night ever.
Somehow, while going through her lost memories, Rosalie found her way to the driveway of Steve Harrington. The garage light was lit, along with the light at the top level. A faint shadow passed over the window, causing a flicker to the light. The room must've been Steve Harrington's.
She shut the car off and paused, collecting herself. Thinking about Barb and Nancy always put her in a down mood. She missed that feeling, the feeling of wholesome friendship. They were each other's rocks, and when she thought of how it seemed to disappear over night, it was like trying to breath with no air.
Pull yourself together.
She kicked herself, then after taking a deep breath, her door opened up and she put her keys in the kangaroo pouch of her hoodie. After locking her car door she walked up the driveway and to his front door. She only had to knock once before the door flung open.
Steve looked at Rosalie's face first, then her clothes, "did you just wake up from a nap?"
Rosalie's eyes shot down to her red sweatpants and black Micheal Jackson hoodie, "what's wrong with my clothes?"
"Nothing," he looked back at her face, "it just looks like you just woke up."
Her eyes narrowed at him and she pointed, "I can't just look amazing all the time, okay Steve? I am human. Plus, it's practically the middle of the night and you asked me to come over. I wasn't aware there was some dress code to be let into your house"-
His arms wrapping around her frame cut her off, and he squeezed her into a hug until she was silent, "shhh," he cooed. She retorted and he simply chuckled before gaining a better grip on her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."
"Steve. You're laughing at me right now," she wanted to cross her arms, but they were stuck at her side. "You can't laugh during your apology for laughing."
His small chuckles tried to shrink. "I'm sorry," he chuckled again and looked down at her red face. "You just..," he let go of her as he stumbled back and broke out into more laughs, "got so mad!"
She gritted her teeth and turned her heel, aiming back towards her car and away from his house. His hand grabbed hers balled fist and tugged her back.
"I'm sorry, okay, no more laughing." His laughs slowly shrunk down to silence. "I swear," he nodded and she sighed deeply.
"Good." She warned before stepping in and letting go of his hand, "it's the least you could do."
Once inside, she slipped off her rain boots, and turned over to glance at him after he shut the door. Steve cleared his throat, a small smile remaining from his laughs on his face as he sighed deeply, "thank you for coming over, Rose. It means a lot."
"What're friends for?" She shrugged, playfully pushing her shoulder against his. He grinned back down at her and walked ahead of her. Steve reached out and stroked one of her long braids before slowly pulling away and turning into his hone.
"So, I guess I should give you a tour..," he slipped his hands in his jean pockets and she followed him passed the large steps. The two entered another big room, he gestured to the windows on the far side of the room. "Um, this is the living room, pool is outback, and the kitchen is right over here..," Steve trailed off as he led her into yet another large room.
"I like your house." She commented as she sat on the chair of his dining room table. Steve shrugged his shoulders as he slid onto the counter and leaned against the marble counters.
"Thanks," his eyes trailed away from her, "are you hungry?"
"Yeah," she answered as her hands folded onto the glass table. Steve sighed as she inhaled and looked in the refrigerator, his eyes squinted as he thought. His hand rose to stroke the freshly cut hair where stubble once was. "You can cook?" She asked while he took ingredients from the refrigerator.
"Yeah," he took pride in his answer with a small nod. "I'll make you a midnight snack." He shut the refrigerator then looked over at her small statue, "there's some records over by the fire place, some beers in the refrigerator, make yourself at home."
Rosalie accepted his invitation and stood from her seat, "I don't drink alcohol," she answered and walked into the den, making her way towards the fire.
"Why don't you drink alcohol?" Steve called out as he clicked on the oven, and she eyed the various records.
Rosalie ignored his question as she looked at the wide range of smooth jazz records and work out tapes of VHS. "Why do you only have jazz?"
"My mom likes jazz," he explained and she heard a cabinet open and close from in the kitchen. "Why don't you drink alcohol?" He asked again as she closed her eyes and grabbed a record, laying it on the record player.
"It reminds me of my father," she admitted as she sat in front of the fire place, placing her hands in her pockets. She didn't know what it was about Steve's presence that made her comfortable when talking about her father. She still despised the topic, but around him, talking about her father seemed easier. Maybe it was his eyes that made her feel like he'd never judge her, or the comfort of his empty home that didn't store nosy ears. Rosalie looked over at Steve, who was looking at her, while mixing something in a bowl on top of the stove.
"I don't swim in my pool anymore," Steve admitted, looking back down at his food. "It reminds me of Barb too much. I just stay in the hot tub."
"I thought we didn't talk about Barb," Rosalie mumbled as her curiosity inclined her towards him.
"I'll talk about Barb when you talk about your dad," he bargained and she slowly nodded. She wasn't sure if the knowledge of what happened to her friend was worth going back down a dark path for her.
As if on cue, the record kicked on and soft jazz tunes filled the room while Steve emerged from the kitchen, two blue bowls in his hands. He sat beside Rosalie and handed her a bowl. A smile fell on her lips as she looked down, "Mac and Cheese."
"Famous Harrington's Homemade Mac and Cheese," he corrected her with a pointed stare. "It took me years to perfect the secret ingredient."
She held the spoon, then took a bite. Her mood enlightened after a small swoon and taste of heaven, "what's the secret ingredient? This is good." Steve chuckled at her reaction and shook his head.
"Nope, I'm not telling." He smirked and watched her as her eyes rolled before returning back to the flames. While she ate, the heat of the fire and heat from the food over powered her system and she stripped out of her hoodie and set it to the side. Her braids got tangled in the clothing, she paused with her sweatshirt half way off, and tugged both braids through the hole of her shirt. She straightened her tank top out after tossing her sweatshirt to the side.
"Graceful," Steve sarcastically commented, a small chuckle and Rosalie smirked before returning to her food.
"Thanks."
There was a small silence as the two ate, an occasional pop of wood, a scrape of a spoon against the bowl. Their breathing. Steve's eyes stayed on Rosalie's frame before he cautiously asked, "Rose?"
"Steve..?" She rose her eyebrow, turning her head to look at him. She mimicked his emotion.
His eyes furrowed in concentration, "do you have a boyfriend?"
She almost choked. "No." Her eyes shot to the floor, her ears ablaze, "why?"
"Have you ever had a boyfriend?" He asked, and now she looked at him. There was no humor on his face, he seemed strictly curious. When she stared at him, there was an encouraging look in his eyes.
"Yes," she answered and set her bowl down. "Why?" This time she demanded, and he picked his bowl back up with a shrug.
He mumbled keeping his nose in his food, "I don't know," then stuffed his mouth full of Mac and Cheese.
"Steve." Rosalie scoffed and crossed her arms, "you can't just ask me if I have a boyfriend then not say why."
"I just did," he mumbled under his breath, causing her to kick his thigh. He chuckled,"ow! Okay, I was just thinking about.. when I kissed you. I thought you had a boyfriend, because you seemed.. experienced."
Experienced.
It took a moment for the words to settle with her. Rosalie was probably the most inexperienced high schooler that ever lived. A sloppy seven minutes in Heaven kiss, plus a few make out sessions with her old boyfriend was all she had to brag about. She hadn't even had sex, and Steve Harrington, the King of Hawkins High was calling her experienced.
A chuckle erupted from her. She slapped her hand over her mouth as she tried controlling her giggles, then covering her face as she laughed into her hands. "Sorry, I just.. you're funny, Steve, that's funny. You calling me experienced."
"You just seemed like you knew what you were doing," he explained then shrugged and scrapped the edges of his bowl. "You're a good kisser."
Her cheeks blushed, "obviously, you are too."
"What do you mean 'obviously'?" He laughed softly, crossing his arms. "Are you saying I have some sort of reputation?"
"That's exactly what I'm saying, Steve. Well," she sighed setting her bowl to the side, "at least before Nancy you did. You were a bit of a play boy, you know a different girl each week."
Steve's eyes flickered to her and his mouth opened, then closed again as he debated his question. For a flash of a second, his eyes looked at something on her face other than her eyes. She was at the edge of her seat, waiting to see where this conversation led to, only to have him sigh and reach passed her for her bowl, placing it in his and standing from where he was just sitting.
"What were you going to say?" Rosalie asked, almost frustrated.
"Drop it," Steve said as he walked back into the kitchen, Rosalie stood then walked right on his heels.
"Steve, tell me."
"No, can y"-
"Just tell"-
"It's not"-
The two spoke over each other,the other feeding off of the other's anger until Steve tossed the bowls in the sink and exhaled with frustration. "I just.. I need to know why you broke the kiss, Rose. Are you not attracted to me? Is this - I mean us - truly strictly friends only? Did.. is.. did I loose my game while I was with Nancy? I mean what if I never get over her because I can't"-
"Steve." Rosalie cut him off, she stopped his pacing - keeping him from going on and on. He looked up to her, stopping his words while she exhaled deeply. "I didn't keep kissing you that night because you were hurting. I don't want to be with you right now because.. well, believe it or not - you're not over Nancy. You're hot, Steve. You have nothing to worry about, about getting over Nancy. You will, eventually, but not by screwing the first girl that walks passed you and seems willing."
There was a wicked grin on Steve's smug face.
Rosalie's eyes rolled, "what?"
"You said 'I don't want to be with you right now'," Steve chuckled, a brightness in his eyes as he leaned against the counter, "which implies that you want me. Plus, you think I'm hot."
Her arms crossed, "I don't like you like that. You're my friend."
"I know, I'm messing with you," he chuckled punching her shoulder playfully. She rolled her eyes and turned away as he began to load the dishwasher. Before she left he called out to her once again.
She hummed a light response, turning over her shoulder.
"So you've got no boyfriend, and you don't want to jump my bones," her hand raised to her head at the choice of his words. "Don't you have needs?"
"I mean, yeah," she sat on the chair in front of the island. "What, do you mean, like sex?"
He simply nodded and she shrugged.
"When you don't have someone," Rosalie took an even breath in, "you aren't constantly reminded of what you're missing, I guess."