be·friend

verb

act as a friend to (someone) by offering help or support.

It was the way they said the words that made a tension fill the room. The small house that belonged to Hopper yet never housed him was currently holding two teenagers who were struggling with what they wanted in life. Steve desperately wanted Nancy to care about him, to see him as he saw her. Emilia wanted to reach out and give Steve what he wanted, but knew she could only offer her friendship. She'd never taken the time to get to know him, until now, and she was beginning to see that he really was a good person, someone she did want to befriend.

"So, where did you go on your road trip?" Steve asked, truly thinking about asking Nancy to go somewhere with him. It would show that he cared, which he did, but would also get Nancy away from all the bad air in Hawkins that seemed to linger since last November.

"Lake Michigan, stopping along the way at shady motels and greasy diners," she grinned at the memory. "I broke some guy's nose."

"You what?!"

She laughed, leaning back in her stool and clutching the underside of the counter to keep herself level. "I broke some guy's nose."

"What did he do to deserve that? I'll be sure not to do it."

"He slapped my ass."

"Yeah, I won't do that."

"I know you won't," Emilia said, still grinning.

"What did Jonathan do?"

"I was my fight, not his. I didn't let him interfere..."

Steve shook his head, reached forward and grabbed his now cold coffee. He stuck his finger in it and stirred it, then removed it and wiped it on his jeans. He couldn't believe that Emilia constantly faced such horrific things, and wondered if Nancy dealt with them too. He remembered the conversation they had when Steve told Nancy what Billy was saying about Emilia, and how she told him that women went through that every day.

"If I'd been there and it was Nancy, or anyone, I would have pummelled the guy. I can't believe Jonathan did nothing..."

Emilia felt defensive suddenly, of course she had to defend Jonathan here. "If I recall correctly, he did pummel you that one time..."

"Oh, yeah, that..." Steve slouched.

"Bygones, Steve, bygones."

Steve smiled, leaning back against the stool and holding his almost untouched cup of coffee. He didn't drink the stuff, and wasn't sure why he agreed to having it. Still, when it was in his hand, he felt inclined to take a sip. It wasn't half bad, but he didn't want to get too used to it and develop a habit. He glanced at Emilia and it was clear that she was addicted to the stuff, sipping away at it at ten o'clock at night.

"Is it ten already?" Steve asked, eyeing the clock.

"Must be," Emilia yawned, as if on cue. And yet she didn't want to see Steve leave already; she'd never had this long of a conversation with him in all the years she had known him. In fact, she knew so little about Steve except what she heard here and there; rumours and gossip that never mattered to her. He was so different from what she'd heard and expected, one on one, Steve was a genuine guy.

"Can I ask you something? And I understand if you don't want to answer, it's kinda personal..." Steve said suddenly.

Emilia shrugged, figuring at this point she had nothing to hide from anyone. Steve knew her secret about El, which meant he knew more than Jonathan did. It was easy being open with Steve, somehow, as though he was some distant stranger whom she could tell everything to, and not have to worry about him telling anyone. Since they had different lives and different friends, they would never cross paths that mattered.

"When... what happened with Tommy happened... why didn't you tell anyone?" He asked.

It was indeed personal, Emilia was taken aback, and glanced down at the remains of her coffee. Rising from the stool, she walked over to the coffee maker and filled up her mug again with piping hot Joe. She stirred in her sugar and continued to stir for longer than she should have, the clink of the metal spoon against the ceramic mug was soothing, satisfying.

"I'm sorry, that was too personal, wasn't it?" Steve asked.

"No, I mean, yeah, it is... but I don't mind," she stammered. "I wasn't entirely sure what had happened, I wasn't sure how to categorize it... Only that I didn't want it, I wasn't happy with myself, and I couldn't just blame him for that... He didn't know what I was feeling because I never said anything. I had been drinking, it wasn't enough to make me forget about my mum, I thought maybe that would have..."

"Is that why you did it?"

Emilia looked up at him, "I wanted to feel something other than sadness, this sinking depression in my chest. But afterwards, it only made me feel worse. And then Carol and the bullying, that didn't help."

"I'm sorry I was ever a part of that, no matter in what way," Steve told her authentically.

She threw back a big gulp of her hot coffee in order to lubricate her dry throat; just talking about it still bothered her. Sure, she had confronted Tommy about it, but it didn't change the fact it had happened. The coffee burned her, but she didn't wince, for it also soothed her.

"The past is the past, nothing I do can change what happened. But what I do today, how I choose to live and carry on, I guess it makes for a better tomorrow."

Steve held up his mug, "To a better tomorrow."

"To a better tomorrow," she cheered as they clinked glasses together.

They remained in silence for a few moments, and then Steve put the mug down on the counter. He ran his hands through his wild hair, and then stood up from the stool. "I should really get going, school night and all."

"I'll walk you out," Emilia placed her own mug next to Steve's and walked alongside him towards the front door. She was glad that Hopper wasn't home, and that this time spent with Steve had happened; he was so different from what she remembered, and she enjoyed the time spent with him.

He stood in the open doorway, leaning against it, letting the cold air in. Steve had learned a lot that night, particularly a lot about women. He recalled what Nancy had said, about not bothering to tell Emilia or Jonathan about what Billy had said, simply because it happened to women all the time. But Steve knew that he had done the right thing telling Emilia, even if it had hurt her feelings, because people like Billy needed to be outed for the damage they tried to do. People like Tommy, too.

"We should do this more," Steve said. "I mean, join us at lunch or something, anytime."

"Thanks, Steve," Emilia was authentic in her words. "But you and I, Jonathan and Nancy... we're different. I don't think we're compatible as a whole."

"Not when you're negative like that," Steve mumbled.

Emilia smiled, and then kissed Steve's cheek, "Drive home safe."

Steve was fazed, though only slightly, and he nodded, walking to his car in a bit of a daze.

Alright, so Stemilia isn't going to happen, I'm just going to say that first and foremost. However, this little event, them becoming friends, is going to be sort of pivotal. I've planned out the rest of this story, it should be about 55 chapters, give or take. There IS going to be less Jonathan in this story than the last, and that's partly because of the show not having much of him, and his dumb ass sleeping with Nancy. 

Don't worry, I have a game plan. 

Question of the Day: Does their friendship feel authentic? (It is, I'm just asking if the writing is doing it's job)