PRETTY SICK!
— bees vs. flies ☆

Gen knew that Angie liked to ask stupid questions; the kind that made her side-eye her, scoff, huff, puff, and not want to bother giving such a thing her undivided attention. She asked questions that confused people, annoyed them and more importantly, put people in a state of unease, or discomfort. Gen liked the blonde girl, but the moment she tried to pick at her brain she felt completely out of her element until the subject changed to something that made sense to her.

Multiple people shared the same sentiment: Dustin, Mike, Nancy, and even Steve gave an awkward half-grin when she said something that didn't quite hit the ears right. It wasn't that she wasn't bright, Gen knew first-hand that she was extremely brilliant, genius, even, but the way her brain worked couldn't click in the way that made a coherent thought to the ravenette. For example—

Angie had asked: "What would you do if you started running and couldn't stop?"

And Gen answered: "Run?"

She happened to not like that answer very much because her face changed to the expression she made when an individual acted in a way that irked her mildly; her head tilted to the side in a curious manner as her brows furrowed.

Another time Angie had questioned: "Would you be happy as a worm?"

Gen's reply came much easier: "No, I don't eat shit."

She smiled at that one, whether she found it funny, or a "good answer", Gen didn't know, but she liked it and the teenager felt her chest swell with pride when she did. The validation of being right felt good, she had to admit, but that never changed the principle of why she became disoriented with these questions.

This time, Angie asked: "Do you think there's a higher power that did this to us?"

And then Gen had to leave.

The blonde's words teetered on a dangerous concept, and she didn't want to open that can of worms—or whatever the saying was—because, in total honesty, she didn't know. When she didn't know things, they were thrown up in the air; yes, she'd adapt, but she didn't want to. She wanted to exist as herself. Exist as a human.

So, yeah, she needed to leave and head somewhere different, a place that changed her pace enough to forget about what she said. Hawkins made that kind of impossible, monsters lurked around every corner, amongst the trees that took on grotesque shapes and the shadows that stretched like fingers across the pavement.

Normally, she went camping in the woods with Eddie for a couple of days to clear her head, but instead, she had to take Hopper's old rusted bike for a spin. One hand on the handle, and another on her walkie-talkie, gifted from Jim himself in order to stay in close contact with each other.

The sun sat high in the clear blue sky, not exactly midday, but it edged closer and closer with every minute that passed. Blazing rays of light hit Gen's face and legs while her outfit didn't do her much justice in the cooling department; a gray shirt underneath one of Hopper's green and gray flannels with a pair of jean shorts that went down past her knees, she had to wear a belt clasped to the last hole so they didn't sag down past her hips.

The hottest day of the year was in the midst of Hawkins, to arrive within the next few days or so, and Gen planned to spend days leading up to it inside at work or in the cabin while everyone else sweltered under the heat.

Unfortunately, Angie asked that stupid question right before she left for Chicago to do God knows what, and that left Gen with an itch to escape and no one who could offer that to her—until she thought about it a little harder after a couple of weeks.

"Refresh my memory, Volkova," Eddie's voice crackled through the walkie, "Why can't we hang out?"

"I need to get out and do something so I don't go crazy, and Hopper banned me from camping with you because he thinks you're a creep," she explained bluntly, turning onto Kerley. The bike she rode was in bad shape, clearly unused and discarded for many years before she maneuvered it out from under the floorboards of the cabin. It made a clicking noise as it cruised down the street.

"When have you ever listened to the chief?"

Gen groaned. "Now. He has been busting my ass all summer for no reason, he's so fucking mad at me all the time, and unless I want to deal with him huffing and puffing for weeks after a trip—which I don't—then it's not happening."

"Poor baby Gwenevieve," he mocked her, then heard him pause to take a hit from his joint. "Who's the lucky recipient of your presence today, then?"

"Harrington."

"What!" There was some shuffling from Eddie's end. "Before you know it, you'll be wearing polos and khakis to his lame-ass post-graduate frat parties. No way. No—way. Do you know what this is?"

"Stupid, probably."

"No, Volkova, treachery of the highest degree," he explained, and she could nearly envision how his hands spread on either side of him dramatically as he spoke like a true Dungeon Master that rarely broke character. "You're turning to the Dark Side."

"You're too dramatic."

"I'm being realistic," he paused. "What about your little kid friends?"

"Busy."

"Bell."

"Out of town."

"Nancy?"

Gen bit the inside of her cheek. "You know I can't do that."

Eddie sighed, "I guess you have no choice. She still hasn't forgiven you for that, huh?"

"Forgive me? She hasn't talked to me since then," she replied, guilt crawling up her back. The ravenette pumped her legs a bit faster against the pedals. "I broke Jonathan's nose in two places."

That night replayed in her mind for weeks despite it being foggy and tainted with the copious amounts of alcohol she knocked back throughout the party. She still felt the sting that shot up the nerves of her forearms like bullets every time she landed a hit against his face, the noises, the terrified look on Nancy's face, and the rush of enjoyment she felt during the whole ordeal. Did he deserve every hit? Yeah. But Nancy didn't deserve the heartache that Gen had caused her over the months without being aware. Gen wanted to feel bad for herself and wallow in her own feelings, but she had it coming.

"Well, you know what they say," started Eddie. Gen braced for impact; he'd either say something brilliant, or one of the most punch-worthy sentences to ever escape someone's lips. "Bees don't waste their time explaining to flies that honey tastes better than shit."

She went silent, contemplating what he just said. Although it made sense, she felt much more like the fly than the bee, or rather an invasive yellow jacket that may have helped keep pests away, but was also just a relentless stinging bastard a majority of the time.

"Just some food for thought before you have your brain melted out of your ears by the "King Steve"." He paused, her silence did not go unnoticed. "Hey, you there?"

She hit the button on the side of her walkie-talkie, and it crackled in response. "Yes. Where the hell else would I be?"

"Who knows? Last night... uh, during the power outage I got some really weird feedback when I called Jeff," explained the man. Gen's jaw clenched unpleasantly at the news, although a minor disturbance, catastrophically bad things always began that way, especially in Hawkins. "I probably need new batteries."

"I'll grab you some when I get my next paycheck."

If Starcourt Mall was the bedazzled face of Hawkins, Family Video stood as the ass-crack—everyone went there, but nothing happened. They ordered a movie and left, or shouted at the poor minimum wage workers that they were missing their favorite movie and left, or the manager came in and bothered Gen and Keith because they had a tendency to scare off the customers and then, get this, left. She didn't care much for the job, but it paid her, and she was given money to practically watch movies all day; the strip became a ghost town once the mall opened, which meant money became sparse for most people unless they came from irreplaceable jobs or an abundance of wealth.

When she wasn't with her friends, at work, or in the cabin, Gen spent her free time protesting the mall and the damage it had done to the local businesses. Apparently protesting was patriotic, but she did it to oppose capitalism and their crooked mayor, Larry Kline.

"Oh, lucky me," Eddie gushed. "Thanks, pookie bear."

"Eugh, I'm hanging up," she replied, her face scrunched up into a cringe.

"Already? Lots of kisses and hugs and—"

She cut him off. "Over and out."

Gen let go of the button and pushed the antenna down into itself, turning the knob on the front of the walkie-talkie off. She looked at the device and smiled for a moment before she slipped it into her backpack. Placing her two hands on the handlebars, she sped up and let her bottom half raise from the seat for a better range of motion.

The wind blew through her hair into her face and it enveloped her head in a wonderful white noise that pressed pause on everything around her. The world moved too fast for her; Gen's last year of high school would commence within the next few months and surely Hopper expected her to either go to college or get a serious job that paid her well, Eddie planned to finally take home his diploma (the third time he had planned this), and Angelica was doing what everyone in the town wished they could do—leave.

Fundamentally, the foundations of everything she knew in Hawkins were changing, and Gen had yet to figure out whether she liked it or not.

Gen turned left into the parking lot of the mall, dismounting her bicycle by the entrance and placing it in the bike rack alongside the others that rested there. She pulled her backpack onto her back and stared up at the large neon sign that read "Starcourt".

The entire building gave her the creeps, she assumed it was the fluorescent lights that reminded her of a hospital, or the way it loomed over everything in the area like a pyre. She gritted her teeth and walked in.

Immediately, she wanted to leave. The inside reeked like fast food, high fructose corn syrup, and a hint of summer B.O. tang that emanated from teenage boys whenever they were placed in a confined area during the warm months.

A ball of static formed at the base of her skull.

She figured out that sound enveloped every square inch of the mall as she bounded for the map of the stores by the front, and with even the slightest eye movement, her vision was assaulted with bright colors and flashy signs. Gen inhaled and struggled to focus on the images printed on the map as she searched for Scoops Ahoy.

Thankfully, it resided on the first floor and she didn't need to ride the death machine metal stairs that the residents of the town called an "escalator", and she tightened the straps on her backpack as she walked towards the store.

She stuck out like a sore thumb, or she felt like she did as she shouldered past the third person sporting an eye-bleedingly bright t-shirt; whoever decided that neon was "in" during the summer needed to be shot in the face several times because everywhere Gen looked was a colorful, zebra patterned hellscape.

At least Steve's workplace wasn't too far from the entrance, and the teenager made a hasty passage through the wooden boxes that created a doorway to enter the store.

For a moment, she thought she made a wrong turn somewhere. Scoops Ahoy was a smaller shop, and the girl that manned the register wore a stupid blue costume and sailor hat that surely, Steve would never stand within six feet of.

However, she saw his idiot face peer through the crack of the wooden-rimmed glass shutters that were attached to either side of the window which lead into the backroom. It took a second for her to truly process the sight of him, yet when she did, she began to laugh.

Deep belly laughter that bellowed across the small store, it turned heads and made the girl at the register widen her eyes in bewilderment. Gen's arms wrapped around her own stomach and she continued to cackle despite it all.

In all his glory, Steve emerged from the staff room with his hands on his hips and a white sailor's hat that slouched off the side, it had "Ahoy" written on it in navy blue, the navy that matched his uniform. She rested against the planter and caught her breath, tears brimming on her waterline.

"Yeah, yeah. Get it all out now," he stated, unamused. "What do you want, Volkova?"

Gen tried to form a coherent sentence but ended up wheezing at him until she waved her hand and finally found all of the wind that escaped from her. She stood up straight and shuffled over, ragged breaths still racking her frame, "I just want to hang out."

"Uh, yeah no, paying customers only."

"I, err..." She turned to look at the menu, then immediately gave up because it had too many words for her to skim through. The girl at the register with cool rings looked at her expectantly. "Hamburger?"

"Hamburger?" she repeated back to Gen slowly.

"Ugh, don't be an idiot. We don't sell burgers here, look around, it's called Scoops Ahoy."

The ravenette stared at him blankly, puzzled.

"Scoops Ahoy. Scoops. Scooping ice cream. What did you think the name meant?"

She rolled her eyes. "I don't know. I didn't name it."

"You know, she makes a good point, dingus," the unnamed girl agreed and Gen let out a laugh, her sides still aching. "I'm Robin."

"Gen. Dingus?"

Steve waved his hand in a crossed motion, signaling "no", the other rested on his hip. "No, no, no. I don't need you two... corroborating—yeah, corroborating—against me, got it?"

Both Gen and Robin raised their hands in defense towards him, the former took a seat by the bar next to the gate that led behind the counter.

Although unpleasant to look at, the aura of the ice cream shop appeared less nauseating than the rest of the mall. Everything was either a shade of blue, white, or wood-brown with red accents that detailed objects like the rim of the menu and the cushions of the metal-rimmed chairs. A few people lingered around the seating area, but it seemed like most people grabbed some ice cream and left, Gen assumed from the empty booths at the furthest end of Scoops. She almost felt bad for Steve, or at least his ego, because surely many of the mall goers had to have seen him in his whole sailor get-up.

He gave up trying to kick her out of the shop and sat beside her, tossing his hat down onto the bar. "So, what are you doing here? I thought you had like, a job or something."

"I do. Hopper was being a dick so I came here," she replied, cracking her knuckles against her palm.

"Just go to your room."

"We don't have a 4,000-square-foot property like you do, dipshit, if I'm not dealing with Hopper, I'm listening to El and Mike for hours. And—I can't even pretend to be asleep or they will start to makeout." She rubbed her eyes with the butts of her palms.

This was true, Michael Wheeler plagued her house like a disease that wouldn't go away. He spent his free time in Gen's room giggling about how in love he was with Eleven and how stupid everyone else was; he had the audacity to get annoyed at Gen when she wanted them to shut the fuck up for five minutes, or when the ravenette used her pass time to practice bass in her own room. Torture was the only word that described her predicament in the cabin. Pure. Torture.

"Well, that's annoying," he huffed, crossing his arms and leaning back against the bar.

Gen nodded. "Yeah... you know, you could help with that," she explained, and Steve raised his brows at her. "Show them Skull Rock."

His head nodded as he feigned entertainment for her idea, mouth agape like a Neanderthal. "Yep, yeah, and then the chief kills all of us."

"No. You and Mike."

"Oh, right, yeah. Me and Mike," he scoffed.

"I'm struggling to see the issue." It killed two birds with one stone, honestly. Gen was one of the smartest people she knew, not that that was exactly a difficult feat with the pool of people she had to select from.

"Look, Volkova, you need to chill out. Summer is the primo time for babes, beaches, and relaxation," explained Steve as he counted out his list of key ideas on his fingers, "We may be land-locked and stuck working shitty jobs all summer, but lucky for you, you're my latest pupil." The confidently smug look on his face gave her zero comforts for whatever he had planned.

"What?" she deadpanned.

"You're in the presence of a master, okay? Watch and learn."

He discreetly motioned to the two women that entered Scoops Ahoy and stood up. Steve pulled his stupid white hat back on and made his way behind the register, tapping Robin out so she could go into the backroom for a break.

The goosebumps of secondhand embarrassment were already crawling up the surface of Gen's skin. She inhaled in anticipation and watched him scoop the girls' order out from the buckets in front of him, one vanilla and the other chocolate—the man zeroed in on the prettier one with curly hair, Gen thought her name might have been Anna.

Steve held out the cone with a single scoop of chocolate ice cream. He spoke to her with a grin that Gen recognized, he used it often when he was trying to charm women or get what he wanted. She saw it used with Nancy when he and her were together but nowadays, he only grinned at Angelica like that. "Alrighty, one scoop of chocolate. That's a buck-twenty-five—anything else?"

Anna shook her head and held out the money, her friend stared at Steve with disdain.

"Ooh, Purdue," he fawned as he took the money, nodding to the lettering on her shirt. "Fancy."

She replied politely, smiling, "Yeah, I'm excited."

The man looked down to punch the numbers into the register, smirking gently, and Gen could just feel the awkward energy radiating from him from where she sat. She toyed with the thought of heckling him but decided to let the shit show unfold itself.

"Yeah, you know, I considered it, Purdue. But then I was like," he paused and looked up at the girls, feigning seriousness, "You know what? I really think I need some real-life experience, you know, before I hit college, see what it feels like."

The friend inhaled in chagrin and Anna glanced back at her with her eyes widened and a strange expression—whatever that meant couldn't have been good. They looked like they just wanted their change back.

Steve continued, a bit of his valor diminished. "Kinda like, uh, I dunno, see what it's like to earn a working man's wage, you know? Uh..." The register beeped at him in protest and he hit something on it a couple of times to make it stop, this sounded like a sign from God to make him stop speaking. "Oh, uh, sorry—I think that's like, really important."

"Yeah, totally." She gawked at him like he was an embarrassment. Her sarcasm went unnoticed, or at the very least, ignored.

"Yeah, anyway, this was like, so fun. We should kind of like, you know, I don't know, maybe hang out this weekend or—" As he reached over to hand his poor victim her change, the coins clattered to the floor and the counter as Anna laughed awkwardly at his advances. Steve apologized half-heartedly and Gen could only wonder where his supposed charm had gone off to. "Oh, sorry about that. Uh... I don't know, maybe next weekend or...?"

There was something so ingenuine about how he maneuvered around the conversation like he was trying too hard to pretend that he actually had any feelings for the girl that stood across from him, or that the conversation was tailored for someone else. Someone who he knew well enough that he knew how they would have replied. Someone blonde and kind enough that she'd let the awkwardness of it all slide over her head.

Gen knew about his fleeting feelings for Angelica (which happened in the first place due to loneliness and her being the closest woman to him in proximity, his words), but part of her wondered if they were really so fleeting after this interaction—but the other part of her couldn't possibly wrap the idea of flirting with other women while interested in another around her head. Steve made no sense and she assumed the inside of his head looked like an empty dome, so she truly did not want to understand him.

Anna stared at him in disdain despite the polite smile on her face. "Yeah, I'm busy."

"I'm working here next weekend, so... the following weekend's better for me," he admitted, licking his lips.

"No. I'm sorry, I can't," she repeated her disinterest, this time bluntly. The two girls chittered as they thanked him and began walking away.

His eyes momentarily flitted over to Gen, who was still too shell-shocked from the whole ordeal to even laugh, then back to the duo that had their backs turned to him. "This... this is my first day," Steve called out as if that remedied the entire embarrassment of it all. He merely shut his eyes and sighed in defeat afterward.

"Christ, Harrington," muttered Gen as she stood up.

Robin slid open the back window to reveal a whiteboard with a chart on it, one side read "Date" and the other read "Fail" and only one of the sides had tally marks on it. Fail. That awful display of events had happened at the very least five other times before the one Gen bore witness to and frankly, she found it disturbing.

"And another one bites the dust," Robin chorused, "That's oh-for-six, popeye."

Steve rolled his eyes and turned to face the board, leaning against the counter. "Yeah, yeah, I can count."

"You know that means you suck."

"What the hell was that?" the ravenette questioned, slithering through the gate to get a closer look at the board.

"Yeah, yep. I can read that too," he scoffed and glanced at Gen, leaning forward to the window of the backroom, "It's this stupid hat, Volkova. I am telling you, it is totally blowing my best feature."

Robin looked almost sympathetic. "Yeah, company policy is a real drag."

The taller teenage girl pursed her lips and peeked at the board—he needed a real wingman. "Why don't you go after someone you actually like?" Gen asked, shifting her weight from left to right.

"What are you talking about?" Steve replied, his brows knitted together, lips downturned.

She looked up at the ceiling and Robin watched, intrigued. "Come on, there's no way you're genuinely interested in her." His expression remained neutral, so she rephrased. "There are people you actually know available."

"If you're talking about Ange, it's not happening," the brunette stonewalled, "Nope, zip, nada."

Gen forgot how much she hated the ins and outs of relationship drama, especially when it revolved around Steve and his infamous lack of self-awareness—he sounded stupid the whole time. It would be so much easier if people said what they meant instead of tip-toeing around everyone's feelings, but she was one to talk.

She groaned, "Why not?"

"It's... weird, it would be weird. She's been my best friend since like, ever, and I don't like her like that," Steve guffawed as if her suggestion were from left field, "Besides, she goes after Billy Hargroves' and Matt Dillons'." He made a face as if he bit into something sour.

Steve had no place picking on anyone's taste, seeing as he seemed to flirt with any woman that just wanted to order some ice cream. "They haven't been together since March, you're nit-picking."

"I'm not."

"Nit-picker."

"Genevieve."

Asshole. The ravenette shoved him away from her. "I'm just saying, you could be her knight in shining armor after a bad break up, that... err, happened a couple of months ago but my point still stands."

He squinted at Gen, then his eyes widened. "Wait, wait, wait, you know about their break up? Like, what happened?" And like that, Steve ignored everything else she had said like the bastardous son of a bitch he was.

Barely, but she continued, "Yes...?"

"Uh, hello? What happened?"

Gen shrugged in response.

Steve's jaw dropped open to protest, but Robin butted in before he could speak a word, "If I may say something, um, it's a crazy idea, but have you considered... telling the truth to the women you're trying oh-so-hard to seduce."

"Oh, you mean, that I couldn't even get into Tech and my douchebag dad's trying to teach me a lesson, I make three bucks an hour, and I have no future? That truth?" he admitted woefully, and the ravenette held her tongue because what she wanted to say wasn't exactly the most comforting. If he wanted to change his life so badly, then he should make the changes. It was simple.

Again, Gen was one to talk.

She sighed and gave in, opting to give him suggestions rather than watch him completely obliterate his dignity with no one to save it. "If you want women to like you, bribe them. Give them an extra scoop of ice cream or whatever, they'll think it's sweet."

"Yeah, no, I'm not listening to you of all people."

There was a beat of silence and Robin's face lit up, her hand stuck out past Steve to point at the entrance of the shop where two women were entering, he looked over. "Hey, twelve o'clock."

"Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Okay... uh..." the man turned back, "I'm going in. Okay? And you know what? Screw company policy." The white hat was pulled from atop his head and flung through the open window, discarded like it would make any difference to his charm whatsoever.

Robin blinked in playful awe. "Oh, God. You're a whole new man."

Hastily, Gen slinked into the backroom to get a first-hand view of the next fail to be added to the board. She pondered about if Steve saw himself when he interacted with anyone, like how he was so oblivious to the fact that he practically pounced on Gen because she knew something about Angie that he didn't, or how his failure of a love life went hand in hand with the fact that he was now a washed-up loser and that it seemed like he flirted with them in order to prove something to his own ego. Typical man behavior. Though, she had to admit that it was a bit sad to watch.

She got startled out of her thoughts by Steve shouting, "Ahoy, ladies! Didn't see you there. Would you guys like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I'll be your captain. I'm Steve Harrington."

From where she stood, Gen heard a muted, "Oh, God." from one of the girls and she knew that the entire thing had gone to shit again. She shut her eyes and let her face meld into a cringe as Robin made a seventh tally mark on the fail section of the chart, the blonde girl looked at her and made a similar face: a mixture of pity and secondhand embarrassment.

Though, despite it all, she found herself enjoying the entire predicament. Perhaps this is what normal teenagers did during their free time in the summer, and Gen could spend her summer being a normal teenage girl.

—————
——— AUTHOR'S NOTE
woahhhhhh gen chaptet woahhhh
do you think gen is going to have a
normal summer? 😏 what do you
think about gen and steve's
frenemyship?

stangie already? unless... 🤔

things will amp up pretty quickly tbh!
i think s3 might be a struggle with
how dialogue heavy it is, tho
SO SO EXCITED TO BE RIGHT
INTO CANON RAGHHHH

PRETTY SICK
girlpools / 2023