"You're playing, so cool! Obeyin' every rule!"
"This is a terrible song—"
"Dig way down in your heart! You're burning, yearning for some."
"Please stop singing."
"Somebody to tell you, that life ain't about passing you by!" I belt out the lyrics, rolling down the car window and dancing stupidly, "I'm trying to tell you, it will if you don't even try!"
"I will push you out of the car, Liz."
"You can fly, if you'd only cut loose! Footloose! Kick off your Sunday shoes!" I grin, pointing at some people out the window, "Oh-wee, Marie! Shake it shake it for me!"
"Woah, Milo! Come on come on, let's go!"
"Lose your blues! Everybody cut footloo— hey!"
I try to turn the radio back on, but Hopper swats my hand away, shaking his head in amusement.
"We ride in silence."
I groan, "you're no fun. Live a little why don't you?"
"I've lived enough, thank you very much." He makes a left turn as we pull into the parking lot of the pancake house we always go to, "and if you keep singing like that I won't live much longer."
"You're right." I nod and examine his head, "Is that a new grey hair?"
I reach out to touch his temple, but he swats my hand away again, "watch it."
"I am watching it," I say, "I mean it's pretty hard not to, it's right there. Screaming in my face. No wonder you wear that hat all the time."
He rolls his eyes, but chuckles as he sloppily parks in a space and cuts the engine. I hop out of the cruiser and breathe deeply.
"Ah." I sigh in contentment, "Love that smell."
He breathes in deep as well, a mix of syrup and butter and batter and dreams. The broken Pancake Palooza sign looms over our heads, and I smile. I love coming here with Hopper, it's something we both look forward to.
"Oh, that's the stuff of legends," he agrees as we enter the small diner and take our usual seats at the back.
I immediately begin scanning the menu, even though I already know what I'm getting. Hopper does as well, and soon we're deeply indulged in conversation. It never takes long.
"And I always tell them to keep the door open three inches, and they never listen!" He complains, looking exhausted as he runs a hand down his face and groans. I wave off the waiter who was about to take our order and lean back in my seat.
"Well," I say, taking a sip of my water, "I don't know what to tell you, Hopper. Other than it won't last."
"What?" He frowns.
"These things don't last," I repeat, "not just the whole relationship, but El being so rebellious. Sense will be knocked into her sooner or later, it's just a matter of time. You could talk to her and Mike like a normal human being and not be so grumpy, but then again I know that's not really your style. So I just say wait it out."
He groans again, and I smile slightly. Mike and Eleven's relationship has really taken a toll on him. He knows it, I know it.
"Can't you talk to her?" He asks through his hands, which are once again running down his face in frustration.
"And say what?" I ask, "can you please stop trading DNA with Mike and spend a little quality time with your adoptive father? Hopper, if it was that easy you and I wouldn't be in this mess."
I lean forward, "Think about it. I'm a delight to be around and yet she still chooses Mike over me. You on the other hand, well let's just say you don't radiate positive energy. If she won't even hang out with me, then you're hopeless."
He scoffs, "Gosh, you sure know how to make a guy feel better."
I shrug, "Consider it free therapy. Feel lucky."
He gives me a sarcastic smile, and I frown.
"If you're really twisted up about all this, then you know there's only one person who could really help." He gives me a blank look and I roll my eyes, "Joyce, Hopper. She knows everything. If you want answers, ask her."
He looks deep in thought, about to respond when the waiter interrupts.
"Good morning, welcome to Pancake Palooza, how may I serve you?" The waiter is young, too young to be working at a pancake house. He sports a white apron, a funky little hat, and a face full of freckles that has me thinking of Jonny, which seems to be happening a lot lately.
"I'll have the chocolate chip pancakes, extra chocolate, with whipped cream, sprinkles, and double the syrup." I flash him a smile and hand him my menu, watching him write down my order, which takes longer than the usual.
Hopper shakes his head at me before giving the kid his own order and asking for a four shot coffee along with it.
"So how's your dad?" He asks once the waiter has left and we're back to the safe confines of our small booth.
I shrug, "better. I've become killer at avoiding him. But his job is very time consuming, so that's a bright side."
"I still don't understand why you won't speak out against him."
I roll my eyes. Hopper always brings this up. Ever since a couple months ago when he showed up at my house in the dead of night.
***flashback***
I'm keen on spending the rest of the night cooped up in my room and listening to some nice soft rock. Nothing like a little Billy Joel to soothe the soul.
Uptown Girl had just come on when I hear the doorbell ring.
I sigh, my mood instantly interrupted as I know that I'll be the one who has to answer the door. It's late, so it's probably just some Girl Scout trying to sell the last of her cookies before the deadline.
I hop off my mattress and trudge downstairs, scuffing my toe on the last step and crashing into the door before opening it.
"Yeah, I'll take some thin mints. Let me guess, you wanna sell more cookies than Bethany? Well you've come to the right — Hopper?" I look up and stop mid sentence to see not a nine year old girl but an exhausted cop standing on my doorstep.
I immediately glance behind me and close the door enough so that my dad doesn't see him if he happens to walk by.
"What are you doing here?" I whisper, my head peeking through the now tiny space between the door and its frame.
"I'm here to talk to your dad, kid." Hopper looks grim as he stares me dead in the eye like someone has died, "It's time we end this."
My eyes widen, "What? No. I told you I didn't want you interfering."
"And I'm deciding now that interfering is the only way." He tries to see around me, but I close the door further. His expression softens, "This is long overdue, Liz. I know I've been busy lately with Eleven and the adoption and it was wrong of me to push you aside like this, but ever since you started causing trouble, like real trouble, I knew things had gone too far. Well, they were always too far, but this is the last straw. Now are you gonna let me in, or are we gonna have to do this the hard way?"
"What's going on here?"
The door swings open all the way, and I immediately tense up. I feel my father's presence behind me, and I know the scene looks bad.
It's been close to a year since Hopper ran into my dad at the bank and punched him in the face, but I can tell by the growing tension that neither of them have forgotten it.
They don't say anything though, just acting like they don't know each other.
"Are you Mr Harrington?" Hopper asks, all business now as his eyes shift to my father's.
"That would be me, yes." I glance up to see my dad throw the Chief a charming smile, putting on a hell of a good mask.
"Look, sir." Hopper's voice is dangerously low, and I know seeing my dad must make him angry, "I'm not gonna beat around the bush here. I notice your daughter has been attaining some injuries, and I've let her convince me it's nothing, but it's gone on for too long. I can recognize child abuse when I see it."
My dad acts shocked, looking from me to Hopper with a concerned and confused expression, "I'm sorry. I don't think it's clear what you're accusing me of here, Chief."
Hopper looks to be trying to control his anger as I stand between them, completely hopeless.
"Do you beat your daughter, Mr Harrington?"
My dad's expression darkens as I gulp, "Absolutely not. How dare you even suggest such a thing?"
"How dare I?" Hopper scoffs, "How dare you, how about? What shit could possibly be going through that thick skull of yours to hit your kid like this?"
My dad chuckles, "This is ridiculous. Come back when you have some evidence."
"Is the scars on her face not evidence enough?" Hopper asks, his voice raising, "how do you suppose she got those?"
"Hopper. . ." I start, but my father cuts me off with a laugh.
"Have you met the kid? She has trouble walking straight! Most of those are from collisions with the walls around her!" He ruffles my hair affectionately, sending a shiver down my spine, "And she gets shit for it from her classmates. I've talked to the principal, but some kids are just brutal—"
"Don't pin this on a bunch of kids!" Hopper shouts, leaning closer to my father and lowering his voice, "I did not come here to face your lies. I've turned a blind eye for too long, but it's time you get locked away."
My dad doesn't flinch, just leans in and meets Hopper half way, "Come back with evidence, Chief."
That seems to be the last straw for Hopper, and he grabs the collar of my dad's shirt, pushing him backwards slightly. I immediately intervene, shoving him away.
"You need to go, Hopper." My voice is firm, sounding stronger than I feel.
Hopper stares at me in shock, "You're taking his side? Why are you defending him?!"
I close the door behind me, shutting my father inside as I lean close to Hopper, getting serious.
"You think I haven't thought about turning him in?" I talk in a low voice in case my father listens in, "I think about it every single day, Hop. But things aren't that easy. You wanna take this to court? Be my guest, but he's right, you don't have any evidence and he will find a way to wriggle his way out."
He scans my eyes as I continue, "And even if you do manage to get him locked up, what happens then? Huh? Steve can't look after me, he's got a job that pays about three bucks an hour and just wants to get into college. I can't take that away from him. If dad's gone, he will fight for custody of me no matter the odds stacked against him. He will give up his dreams to keep us together, and I can't put that on his shoulders. It's better for me to stay here and wait a couple more years until I can move out or Steve gets into school and things get better."
"I can't just ignore this, Liz," he mutters, "There's this law called mandatory reporting, so if I don't do something about it it's a crime."
"But what proof do you have?" I ask again, "Child abuse cases are hard shells to crack, Hop. Barely a class three felony. He'd probably go to jail for six months, maybe a year if we're lucky, but what then? He'd find me."
"I'll take you in," he says right away, as if he's thought about this.
"No," I cut him off before he can even start, "You've got Eleven on your hands, and she's already more than you can take right now. Trust me, Hopper. I've put a lot of thought into this and this is the best option. Please."
He looks away for a moment, and for a split second he seems emotional. He runs a hand down his face and a ghost of a tear is in his eye.
"I just hate that he gets away with this," he mutters, "I hate that he does this to you. You deserve so much better, kid."
"Yeah, I know I do." I smile sadly, "But I'll be okay. I know I will."
"If something really bad happens to you," he mumbles, his voice cracking slightly, "I'd never forgive myself."
"Hopper," I say sympathetically, stepping forward, "None of this is your fault. It's just a shitty circumstance. Besides, nothing really bad is gonna happen to me. I've got Steve to help, and I can take care of myself."
He smiles sadly at me, a single tear escaping his eye that he rubs away quickly before tugging me into a bone crushing hug.
"I love you."
"I know."
He swats me upside the head and laughs, "Only you would find a way to quote Harrison Ford at a time like this."
I laugh as well, hiding my face in his chest so he doesn't see that I too am crying.
***end of flashback***
Since then, Hopper has been trying to gather evidence, but my dad has been backing off a little, as if he's scared that he might get caught. It would've been amusing if the situation wasn't so serious. But I wasn't joking when I spoke about Steve. He wanted so badly to get into college, or even just Tech, and I know he'll keep trying, but not if I'm in danger.
"You know why I don't speak out against him," I say, "I've explained it to you a billion times."
He leans forward, "Look, foster care isn't all that bad. It's better that you're safe, and I'm sure Steve would understand—"
"Hopper, the nearest foster care program stations in Ohio." I lean back, "Steve would be devastated, and I would miss my friends."
"So your safety is less important to you than seeing your friends?"
The first person I think of is Will. I still get a bad feeling when I think of the movie last night and what happened. I can't be away from Hawkins now, not until I'm absolutely positive everything is over.
"It's not just seeing them," I say, placing my hands together on the table, "It's being here in case . . . in case something happens."
Hopper looks confused, but realization dawns on him and a sympathetic look befalls his features.
"Kid, all that stuff is over." He smiles grimly, "Eleven closed the gate. There's no way anything could happen."
He's right. El closed any way that the Upside Down could get to us. There's no danger, there can't be.
But that's what I was telling myself last year.
"I wanna say you're right." I watch as the waiter comes by with Hopper's coffee, "But it just feels like it'll never be over."
He sighs, taking a sip of his mug as soon as the waiter places it down, "I know, kid. I know."
We eventually change the subject to happier things, and soon he's telling me some old story about his younger years as an officer and I'm laughing so hard chocolate milk is shooting from my nose. Soon we're both laughing wildly, our finished plates between us as we use this much needed break to catch up and relax.
I know he needs this monthly tradition, because that's exactly the amount of time it takes for his anger to build up to a boiling point. Sometimes it takes shorter, and I'm forced to deal with a rampaging Hopper. I know that I also need this tradition, because otherwise I would never really see him, and he will always have a special place in my heart.
"Remember when we first met?" I laugh, "When you were interrogating Mike, Lucas, and Dustin and I was eavesdropping?"
"Oh yeah!" He laughs as well, "And I chased you into the parking lot because you knew something I didn't."
"And then—" I'm cut off by my own laughter, "—I stole the cruiser."
"Oh my god." He grins and runs a hand down his face, "I knew you were gonna be trouble the minute I saw your face, and not even ten minutes later you crashed my car into a tree."
I chuckle, "What can I say? I'm excellent at first impressions."
"If I told that Hopper that I would be eating breakfast every month with that girl that stole his car, he would laugh in my face." Hopper shakes his head in amusement, "We've come a long way, kid."
"Yeah." I nod, then grin again, "Remember when I pulled a gun out of your glove compartment and tried to break the glass of your car with it?"
"Yeah! What is it with you and my car?" He grins, "Or remember when you found out about El and hid in her room?"
The rest of our time goes like this, and we sit there for an extra half hour even though both of our meals are done. It's like neither of us want to leave; it's like that every time.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
A filler chapter this time, just touching up on her relationship with Hopper. Please let me know if there are any mistakes in my grammar in spelling. Also does anyone else hate this update like everything is dark and it's throwing me off.
Question: Where do you think Liz is gonna end up at the end of this book?
Word count: 2983