FLOWERS

That morning, Emma Torres had no idea what she was getting into when she had breakfast without her sister one Saturday. Nor when she lined her eyes with black eyeliner or cooked lunch after her parents called to inform her they would be out that night. Even when she decided to prepare her mother's gift, she didn't foresee the secrets she was about to uncover. Walking to the town center, listening to "Another One Bites the Dust," she wouldn't have guessed that ordering flowers at the florist would lead to such revelations.

She remembered it well. She was looking for blue lilies, peonies, or even hydrangeas. Getting the bouquet was supposed to be easy and straightforward. She just needed to ask for the flowers, specify the delivery date, and then go home and wait for her sister, or maybe call Jenn who she hadn't heard from in a whole month. Details didn't matter. It supposed to be simple. Or so she thought until some fluffy, perfectly brushed hair got in her way.

"Didn't know gangsters liked flowers," Steve Harrington commented over her shoulder, trying to get a good look at the blue lilies she was eyeing. Emma rolled her eyes and turned to face him. The boy stood in front of her with a bouquet of roses.

"Steve The King Harrington buying flowers, who would have guessed?" She crossed her arms. Harrington grinned, looking at the roses.

"Who is this bouquet for?" she asked, eyes narrowed. "Are you buying this to apologize to Nancy?" Emma raised an eyebrow. The silence that followed filled her with doubt. "Do you even know what you're apologizing for?"

"Yeah, I've been an asshole," Steve admitted, scratching his neck. The blonde couldn't help but laugh sarcastically.

"You're usually a jerk, that's nothing new," she mumbled, brushing her face with her hands in disbelief. "But no, you're not apologizing for that. I don't even get why you should apologize." Steve gazed at her, puzzled.

"Oh my gosh, why do we need to explain everything to you guys?" Frustration radiated from her. "She's depressed, Harrington. She doesn't need flowers, or parties, or your empty apologies. She needs someone to be there for her. Her best friend disappeared months ago, and she's probably dead by now. Everybody knows it, but they keep expecting her to carry on like nothing happened. If you can't understand that..."

"No, no, I get it," the brown-eyed boy interrupted her. "I messed up."

"And that's why you bought her red roses?" Doubt started to flow through his mind. "Red means passion and devoted love when it comes to roses. If you buy her flowers, that's not the message you want to send her."

"How do you know all that stuff?"

"Ronnie is very passionate about flower language," Emma shrugged. "Or any language." Steve nodded slowly, remembering the times spent at the park with her and other children. Veronica always found some random fact to share, usually the meaning of the flowers someone picked.

"And what should I do then, oh Miss Cupid?" Now it was his turn to cross his arms, pronouncing every word with irony. Emma ignored him and walked out of the florist, jumping into the passenger seat of his car. Steve followed her, even more confused.

"What are you waiting for? You want to give her the bouquet, right?" She got comfortable in the seat. Harrington stared at her, trying to decode why, after trying to stop him from giving Nancy the flowers and apologizing, she was now pushing him to do it. After three full minutes, he simply got in the car and decided to stop trying to understand Torres' mind.

"Finally, I was falling asleep with all that hesitation."

Lilith parked her bike near the Hendersons' garden, her legs aching from the morning ride. She'd woken early to have breakfast with her parents before they left for the lab, listening intently to their plans. The thoughts bouncing around her head had driven her to hop on her bike again, a habit she was quickly developing. She'd left a note for her sister, still asleep when she left, promising she'd be back soon. But as Emma's words from the night before replayed in her mind, Lilith felt the weight of her helplessness. She couldn't assist her parents with their investigation or help Emma control her powers—but she could help Dustin find Dart. At least it was something.

She climbed the stairs leading to the Hendersons' front door, her military jacket swaying in the cool breeze, when she froze. Dustin stood just ahead, fully suited in lacrosse goalie gear, pacing anxiously and cursing under his breath. His head jerked around like he was trying to spot something—or escape it.

Lilith squinted against the sunlight, shielding her eyes with her hand. She blinked twice, trying to make sense of the scene. "Dustin?" she called.

The boy jumped, eyes wide with alarm. "Shit, shit, shit," he muttered, his voice low but frantic. He threw another panicked glance over his shoulder, then bolted toward her, grabbing her arm and dragging her toward the storage room without explanation.

"Wait—what the—" she started to protest, but he shoved her inside and slammed the door shut, covering her mouth with his hand. Both of them panted, their wide eyes meeting in shared terror.

"Quiet!" Dustin hissed, holding up a finger to silence her. He crouched low and gestured for her to follow his lead. Reluctantly, Lilith obeyed, leaning close to the wooden slats of the storage room's vent. Outside, a slimy, faceless creature—slender like a giant lizard but with the posture of a dog—prowled toward the basement, its sharp claws clicking against the concrete. It stopped to sniff at a trail of salami laid out on the ground.

Lilith's heart thudded as her breath caught in her throat. "Is that Dart?" she whispered.

Dustin gave her a grim nod but said nothing, his attention locked on the creature. As it neared the basement door, it paused, raising its grotesque head and sniffing the air. Slowly, it turned toward the storage room. Toward them.

Both kids froze, holding their breath as the creature moved closer. The tension broke when Dustin grabbed his lacrosse stick with both hands, flung the door open, and slammed the stick against Dart's slimy body, shoving it into the basement. Dart thrashed and screeched as Dustin tumbled to the ground with the force of the attack.

Lilith snapped out of her paralysis. Seeing Dart clawing its way back out, its mouth splitting open to reveal rows of razor-sharp teeth, she leapt into action. Dustin met her gaze, the same determination in his eyes mirrored in hers. Together, they shoved the basement door shut just as Dart lunged. The metallic thud of the door rang out as they pressed their weight against it, locking it tightly while Dart screeched and clawed on the other side.

Breathing heavily, Lilith slid down to sit on the grass, leaning against the door. Her chest rose and fell with exhaustion as she stared at the sky, trying to piece together what had just happened. "Okay," she exhaled, her voice shaky but firm. "What was that?"

"Nancy, I'm sorry. I know I've been a total jerk these last few weeks. I should have focused on your feelings rather than putting all this pressure on acting normal. I don't want to keep you too long, so I just wanted to give you this and tell you that I'm still here if you need to talk," Steve recited for the third time, parked in front of the Wheelers' house.

"Harrington, you've repeated the script I gave you three times. If you don't get out of the car now, I'll start to think you're indirectly trying to apologize to me, for making me lose my precious time." Emma said, rubbing her forehead tiredly.

"Right." Steve nodded, unbuckling his seatbelt but still staring at the house, hesitating, unwilling to leave the car. Veronica's words stuck in his mind. Isn't all your life bullshit, fake, anyway? He got mad at himself because she was right. Every single word she said was the truth. But he couldn't handle the idea that his relationship with Nancy might also be as fake as the character he had created over the years in high school. Not this. And the conversation, if she was willing to have it, would resolve that lingering doubt from Halloween night.

"Steve?" The name, pronounced by the blonde for the first time, at least to his ears, woke him from his thoughts. She knew what he was thinking about; Veronica had commented with her and Brooke about what he had told her—Nancy's drunk confession.

"Hmh?" Steve looked back at the girl beside him.

"You know you don't have to do this, right?" Emma said, frowning at her sudden contradiction. "You don't buy flowers for someone who doesn't love you back." As soon as the words left her mouth, their eyes locked. His eyes widened in realization.

"Veronica."

"She told me," the blue-eyed girl nodded, breaking their eye contact to gaze at her own hands, nervous, trying to empathize with the boy.

"Then, you know I'm the biggest bullshit alive," Steve said, shaking his head.

"I think you're just... stupid," she said honestly but trying to soften the blow.

"Thanks? I guess," he answered, confused by the comment. "The first half-compliment you've given me."

"Don't get used to it," she mumbled, her gaze shifting from her hands to her oversized purple basketball T-shirt with a raised eyebrow. Steve chuckled. "I just... I mean, you have the right to be mad too..."

"But..."

"But you've definitely been the biggest jerk alive," she completed. "I think you should talk—no flowers, just you two together—but don't pressure her. Just let her know you'll be there, you know?" Emma continued, sounding as if she had thought it through carefully. "Even if she chooses somebody else." At this, their eyes locked once more, and Steve didn't have to question what she meant. He knew exactly who that somebody else was. He wasn't blind. He just thought Nancy loved him more.

With a grin, Steve nodded and got out of the car, replaying the perfect words to say to her with the bouquet in hand. He couldn't just throw it away; he had bought it for Nancy, even if it now seemed like the worst idea ever. What had he been thinking, buying red roses? Emma was right, but now there was no turning back. As she had told him on the way to the house, the key was the words he used. He needed to stop putting pressure on her and just give them both time—for him to think, for her to get over the weight on her shoulders. He'd be there if she needed him, but if they kept going like this, they would definitely break up, if they weren't already.

As he almost reached the front door, a curly-haired twelve-year-old boy stepped in his way. "Steve," he called. "Are those for Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler?"

"No," the eighteen-year-old answered, confused by the question, spotting another girl by his side. She was brunette with freckles and brown eyes, and had never caught his eye before, unlike Emma who frowned from the car at the familiar characteristics she had learned by heart. "Hi," she said awkwardly. Steve nodded at her, with his attention focused on the curly-haired child.

"Good," the kid took the bouquet out of his hands and handed it to the brunette. "You can take it." The girl looked at the flowers with disdain, sniffed them, and threw them onto the grass after sneezing because of her allergies. Harrington couldn't hold back his horrified grin.

"Nancy isn't home," the kid informed, approaching the car, followed by who seemed to be his friend.

"Where is she?" Tiredness was all that was left to run through Harrington's body. It seemed no one wanted him to talk with Nancy.

"Doesn't matter," he stated firmly, opening the door to the back seats. The kid faced him. "We have bigger problems than your love life."

"Excuse me?" Emma rolled down the window, glaring at the eighteen-year-old with a raised, daring eyebrow.

"Didn't know you've got company," the curly-haired boy frowned at her, while the brunette got comfortable in one of the back seats. Emma still couldn't catch her eye.

"Why is your car being invaded by kids, Harrington?" the blonde demanded an explanation, but Steve could only look at her as puzzled as she was.

"I'm Dustin," the kid interjected.

"Well, Dustin, as much as I like babysitting, my sister is waiting for me at home, so..."

"Wait, Emma?" the brunette interrupted, recognizing the voice of her bigger sister.

"Lilith?" Emma turned to face the little girl. "What the hell? Aren't you supposed to be home?"

"You know that kid?" Steve asked, still standing outside the car in front of Dustin.

"She's my sister."

"Sister? Didn't know you've got a sister." Steve continued externalizing his doubts. But the curly-haired kid brushed the question aside, getting once again to the point.

"We don't have time for that," he assured. "Do you still have that bat?" He looked directly at the oldest one at the scene, serious.

"Bat? What bat?"

"The one with the nails," he clarified. Steve seemed to understand clearly at that detail what the kid was asking for, and the sisters exchanged puzzled gazes, feeling like two fish out of water at this point.

"Why?" Emma noticed the genuine confusion in Steve's eyes.

"I'll explain on the way," Dustin finally got into the car and shut the door, waiting for the owner to follow his lead. But Steve was still out, trying to process what had just happened.

"Now?" he asked, noticing the eyes waiting for him.

"No, man, tomorrow," Lilith ironized, putting on the seatbelt. Steve rolled his eyes and ran back to the driver's seat. Emma tried to hide her chuckle at the sight of the almost-man following the instructions from some twelve-year-old kids without hesitation.

"What?" he snorted once inside, sensing her chuckle from the corner of his eye.

"Are you seriously going to do what this kid says?" Emma asked, surprised.

Steve shrugged, grabbing the keys. Emma grinned, turning her lips and raising her eyebrows in surprise. "Is this something that happens often? Kids come to you asking for weapons and you just give it to them?"

"I'm not giving a weapon to that kid," Steve frowned.

"No, you're giving him a bat with nails, which totally cannot be related to a weapon," the blonde ironized. Steve doubted for a second what he was about to do and why he was even following what a twelve-year-old boy was telling him when the little brunette spoke.

"Sorry? Em, I know it might sound out of place, but we really need that bat, if I'm honest," the blonde looked at her sister and then at her new friend, Dustin. They both were deadly serious.

Feeling a mix of concern and bewilderment Emma asked:

"Where have you gotten yourself into, Lils?"

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Okay, guys, short chapter but from here everything's about to roll. I promise. Don't judge Emma for calling Steve a jerk, because from her perspective he is, and that he had done through ou the time can't not be erraised so easily. Mostly after halloween? I mean, what she saw was a seventeen year old guy leaving his girlfriend all drunk in the bathroom just after a row. After she knew like, there mi

Also, I made those separators, what do you think?