SWEET HOTEL CALIFORNIA.

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MAGNETS (book one).
°• CHAPTER THREE •°

" SOMETIMES YOU HAVE
TO PUT YOURSELF FIRST. "

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DYLAN HAD ALWAYS BEEN YOUR TYPICAL CALIFORNIA GIRL. She believes that's why Clara referred to her as such, exclaiming California! as soon as she came into her line of view as if the state was her newly declared name. She didn't burn underneath any sun rays, she glowed, having never been pale a day of her life. Dylan couldn't find a spot here that felt like home, but back on the West Coast, when she was allowing the salty water of the ocean to burn her nostrils and the waves to lap against her skin, it always felt like four walls and a roof. Golden sand burned the soles of her sneakers as she ran like her life depended on it. In Hawkins, Dylan didn't feel like California, but that's what Hawkins saw her as. She only hoped she wouldn't burn long enough to swallow the small town in flames.

Shopping, swimming, and surfing, were three big S words in California. Dylan enjoyed them all and embraced the woman she was becoming. She hasn't been lucky enough to see a body of water yet, nothing could compare to the ocean anyway, and fortunately enough Hawkins seems to have a good variety of small businesses to shop at. Their local center is smack in the middle of town so it's not too difficult to find. Dylan could cry in relief. At least she didn't have to give up one thing.

Dylan hadn't bothered asking Billy for a ride. She'd rather light a match and set herself on fire before asking him for a favor. The only reason he ever gave Max and her rides to school happened to be because Neil would take his keys if he didn't - or worse. She happily grabbed her bike instead. It wasn't anything fancy, nothing like Max's skateboard or Billy's car. And Dylan, like her siblings, didn't buy it herself.

It was something Neil Hargrove was good at. Gaining his children's trust. His way of apologizing was gifting them. Giving Billy gas money, magazines, beer. Gave Dylan shopping money, running sneakers when her current ones wore out, a new walkman. It was all about power. They couldn't say they didn't owe their father or that he never did anything nice for them even the way he treated them. So although Dylan is grateful she has means of transportation that belongs to her, she's still bitter behind all that thankfulness.

She remembers what happened the last time she forgot to express how grateful she was for the U2 tape he gifted her for her seventeenth birthday.

Dylan shoves the painful memory out of her head as it tries to slice its way in. She doesn't like to think about them a lot, and apparently, neither does Neil. She mounts her bike and pedals away from the house on Maple Street before she could think twice about it. Dylan's steel rings feel a little tighter around her bruised fingers as she grips the handlebars as she recalls how they twisted when she smacked Billy just right. He also doesn't like to think about their old man.

Every push of the wheels that drive Dylan closer to the directions Clara explained, she braces herself. She doesn't want Clara to see her boiling with anger even when it fuels her. She found it too easy to do so when Billy and Neil weren't around. They were left behind, caged in her mind in corners they couldn't escape from, out of sight and out of mind. Dylan would've been surprised at how happy she was when she wasn't around them if she wasn't so oddly used to the feeling.

The rundown town becomes a blur in the corner of Dylan's eyes. She would've taken a run if she hadn't minded showing up to their designated spot covered in sweat which would sort of ruin any good mood she had planted herself in. The wind kept Dylan cool enough as she rode, brushing her hair past her shoulders until it blows behind her. She had been praying since Neil announced their move that there would be a reason to not keep Hawkins a blur in her memory, that there had to be something here to love.

Dylan Hargrove was still waiting for those reasons to come to light.

She truly, in fact, hadn't thought about her simmering anger for Billy and this town up until she was locking her bike to the curved steel poles where a few others sat, waiting to be plucked by their owners. Dylan releases a short hiss when her fingers bend to press the lock into place.

She didn't have great self-control. This was a fact like the sky being blue and the Hargrove's being assholes and exactly why Dylan had to hang a poster over the flaked hole left in the pink floral wallpaper in her and Max's bedroom.

A tap on Dylan's shoulder nearly causes her to jump out of her skin. She unclenches her throbbing fingers and spun in alarm until she saw it was only Clara bearing a friendly grin. "California," she greets before her eyes dart to Dylan's neck. Her smile instantly slips at the sight. She even loses the use of her nickname. "What the hell - Dylan - "

Dylan's hand flew to her throat to cover the mark Billy left before she realized doing so wasn't helping her case. Clara's gaze then fell on her bruised knuckles. Her jaw becomes slacked at the shredded skin slowly swelling into purple. Dylan quickly realized how deep she was in the hole she had dug. Six feet, almost. And she was going to choke on the dirt if she kept going at this rate.

The good thing about that, however, was Dylan could figure out a way to survive even when she was being buried alive. It's possible to sweet-talk your way out of anything. Even Clara Rhee who stood there, mouth slacked, would buy whatever Dylan would spew to take the attention off of her before they could move on. She excelled in this one skill and embraced it even when she hated doing so.

"Oh my God, Clare, don't overreact." Dylan casts her a blinding grin that catches Clara off guard. She swiftly starts to fiddle with the rings on her fingers so calmly that it was a casual motion despite the jewelry almost stuck when it meets the swell of her knuckles. "Shit happens. I'm not too worried about it, so don't get your panties in a twist." Dylan pockets the pieces of jewelry before Clara can notice.

There's a lot that Clara Rhee would be able to notice had Dylan let her guard down long enough for her to see. Like that the mark on her neck matched the ring around Billy's fingers. That while no one but herself hurt her knuckles, the reason behind it was much more wrenching than what was seen on the surface. Dylan wouldn't dare let her see what was underneath the makeup, what she could hide like an artist. No one was supposed to. She didn't want to have to move again.

"What are you talking about?" Clara asks like Dylan was out of her mind (which she very may well be). "There's nothing normal about bruises."

Dylan observes their surroundings. There are not a lot of people, but there's enough. The last thing she needed was for someone to notice and for words to find their way back to Neil Hargrove. It would just add more to the collection she was already sporting.

She can almost hear his voice snarling coldly in her ears.

Respect. Responsibility. Nice girls stay quiet!

Dylan shivers without realizing it. It doesn't seem to matter how used she was to Neil's voice telling her to stay quiet. She plays the motion off like the wind's chill had reached her ears instead of the bad memories of Neil's parenting and surprises Clara when she locks her arm into hers. She wasn't going to let this ruin their evening. Dylan had to say, she was introduced to knowing the other girl. It was like they just clicked upon meeting. Clara was something special.

It's too bad that Dylan can't say the same for every girl in Hawkins.

The pair are busy bounding together across Hawkins's sidewalk as they try to find the perfect store for a Halloween outfit. When they come across one that Clara deems can suffice, she excitedly tugs Dylan towards the glass door and starts to push it open. They're both startled when another body slams into them as they pass one another, squeezing past the small doorway.

"Watch where you're going," the flash of blonde hair belonging to the girl they bumped into snipes.

Dylan's head snaps towards her. The girl is surely pretty - all blonde hair, blue eyes, and sharp features, but there's no fire in her gaze. Only malicious. She reminded her of a dog that only barks when someone's holding its leash.

"It's a door," she snaps back. "People come in and out of it. Get your eyes checked, huh?" Dylan challenges. She was never one to back down from one. It's a side no one should have seen.

The girl's posture straightens. She glares at the sight of Dylan as if the mere sight could make her hurl. Dylan matches her scowl. She tilts her head back until their eyes met and she could see Dylan Hargrove, one of Hawkins's newest residents, wasn't afraid of her. Nothing she said would be able to burrow under her skin. It'd be nothing compared to the things she's already heard.

"California," Clara suddenly said quietly, her hand trailing down Dylan's arm until she clasps their hands together and warns, "Don't."

Their hands being grasped together brought a wave of something warm through Dylan. She wasn't used to the feeling. It was so foreign she almost pulled away at first before Clara squeezes and brings their fingers to lace together. It was like dousing the fire with water instead of gasoline which is how Dylan always lived and thrived in this world. Burning in the flames of her own rage.

The girl before them scoffs. A wad of pink bubblegum is snapped in her mouth as she flicks a free strand of hair over her shoulder. "Whatever." Her red-painted lips curled as she sneers, "Dykes."

Such a degrading name caught Dylan off guard. She almost forgot that Clara was there to actually keep her calm when she can feel the fury building inside of her, becoming anything but. She attempts to take a step forward as anger drove her, the urge to grab a fistful of that girl's perfect blonde hair and start a fight then and there, but stops when Clara yanks her limb back. Dylan stumbles at the force and almost falls back. She would have if her friend wasn't there to catch her as they leave the wicked girl behind to enter the shop.

"Dyl, Dyl, it's okay," Clara insists. Her smile almost reaches her warm brown eyes. She squeezes Dylan's hand again. "Don't let a mean girl like that get to you. We're having fun, remember?"

Dylan is wordless at first. It's like the smoke from her anger filled her throat and was trying to choke her. But she has to swallow it despite the way it burns if it's at least all for the girl in front of her. "You're right," Dylan finally admits softly. "Yeah, you're... You're right."

Clara's smile still doesn't quite reach her eyes as if something was still bothering her, but she tugs Dylan further inside anyway. "I always am," she teases.

This time, Dylan Hargrove smiles too.

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Dylan Hargrove wasn't the golden girl or the party girl California made her out to be. They didn't know her. Honestly, her father doesn't either. She believed for a while that there isn't a single person on this planet who could. It's hard to admit that Clara Rhee comes pretty close. She doesn't like it when people see the raw, vulnerable girl she's destined to be. That's why Dylan was furious when Jonathan took a picture of her in such a state without permission. When others see it, it exposes her. It makes it easier for someone to hurt her. And she wasn't a stranger to pain. Like the pain of being a Hargrove. It was everything she knew. The only thing she knew.

God knows what Neil would do if he saw Dylan missing from bed in her shared bedroom with Max or her brother's disappearance from his own. He'd blow a gasket. And she doesn't want to even think about what would happen if he was there waiting when she returned. At least Dylan could tell him she wouldn't drive after drinking at a party because she grabbed her bike and sped off. Dylan was reckless, sure, but she would never be behind a wheel while intoxicated. It's a shame she can't say the same for Billy. The roar of his car's engine passes her ears.

So naturally, when Billy's blue Camaro sped teasingly past her, the roar of the engine ringing, Dylan shot her middle finger in the air towards him and prayed he saw it in the dark.

It takes Dylan a tad longer to arrive than the rest of the crowd since she chose her bike. Billy's already long arrived and drawn in people just like him. She even spots the mean girl she had run into earlier with Clara blatantly flirting with him despite the uninterested glare on his face. She's holding onto the amusement in his blue eyes with a painted nail twirling a few blonde strands. A mean girl for a mean boy. It fits.

She tears her eyes off of them when she sees Clara is there too. She's dressed in the complete Madonna outfit she threw together after shopping, complete with ripped tights, a wide black shirt and top, a large bow in her hair, and dangling necklaces that she piled on top of each other around her neck. Clara's raven hair bounces in the curls she made as she rushes to greet Dylan by throwing two arms over her shoulder with an excited grin, exclaiming, "Hey! You finally made it!"

Dylan wasn't much of a hugger. In fact, the action had been foreign to her for years. She believes the last time she actually hugged someone was when her mother was still alive. Dylan's arms hung loosely at her sides at first as the thought occurred to her. She missed her mother more than life. But Clara was here now. Dylan was reminded of that when the girl squeezes her when she doesn't move.

So, she does. Dylan lifts her limp arms and found the strength in them to wrap the limbs around Clara's shoulders. She feels the girl relax in the embrace even though the hug Dylan gives her is filled with uncertainty. She wasn't completely sure she knew how to do this, but Dylan tries anyway with a smile as she hooks her chin over Clara's shoulder and says, "Yeah, you too, Clare."

Clara pulls away. Now that she's up close and personal, Dylan can see the glassy look in her brown eyes, the tilt of her lips into a grin, and the slight flush in her cheeks. Clara's surely feeling a pleasant buzz. "You came up with a nickname for me," she coos cutely and even raises her hand to pinch Dylan's cheek. "Not as creative as mine, sure, but a nickname!"

"Oh my God," Dylan laughs. "You're adorable."

The compliment makes her laugh again. Clara reaches to grasp Dylan's hands still clasping her waist until they're held together hanging between them. "No, you're adorable," she argues. Her eyes scan Dylan from her head to her toes. "What are you for Halloween - a sexy cat?"

Dylan tilts her head. The pointed ears on her head fell a tad askew, but it looks cute upon her crown of curls anyway. Her smile makes the whiskers she drew crinkled. "Actually, I'm just a cat, but thank you."

A sudden beat from the song changing fills their ears and Dylan is whisked into the crowd by Clara who releases an excited shout. It becomes a world of spinning with drunk teenagers in costumes in the midst of four walls. The tune thunders in her ears. Dylan throws her head back and laughs when Clara's chest presses against hers along with the fingertips that dug into her hips. They follow one another moves in the middle of the crowd, a smooth wave of two hips that meet one another.

Dylan tosses her hair over one shoulder before bringing an arm around Clara's shoulders. The girl throws her head back and releases a laugh at the ceiling as if the presence of the one she called California was peaceful enough for her to let loose and feel comfortable enough in her own skin. That was what Dylan strived for. Even if she couldn't embrace herself, she could encourage others to do so. That's what she was meant to do.

She doesn't care what Neil thinks at that moment. There are no better women above one another and they shouldn't be pinned to be better than the other. When they team up, they're unstoppable.

"Where did you learn how to dance, California? Back at home?" Clara calls over the music. Her fingertips dug a little deeper into Dylan's skin, but the touch is still gentler than anything Dylan was used to. She guides her every move as they clung to one another to follow the beat of the music as one.

Dylan tilts her head. She can feel beads of sweat forming on her forehead and prays it won't ruin her makeup. "Something like that."

The newly declared close friends block out the world around them. Everything else is merely just a background to something special they shared. But there was a faraway look in Clara's eye that Dylan struggled to understand. Every sway towards the crowd caught her gaze, so she tried to follow it. It only lands her where two others were dancing together a few feet away too. There's a pretty girl with her hair pinned up as her pink poodle skirt bounces around her and a guy with black shades laughs. And every time Clara sees her, Dylan realizes something.

She's seen people with the same look in their eyes back home in California. A small town like Hawkins wasn't used to people like that. And Dylan wouldn't force her to talk about something she wasn't comfortable with yet.

Dylan curls her finger around Clara's raven hair until the spring of it wraps around her skin and she has the girl's attention again. "He's really cute," she admitted. At least he was. Dylan's positive she's seen him a dozen times before, but she can't place a finger on his name yet.

Clara scoffs like that was the most unbelievable thing she's heard all day. "Steve Harrington? Sure, sweetheart."

Once Dylan realizes she has Clara's focus, she stopped dancing to put her finger on her chin so their eyes met. She could see the genuine sincerity behind Dylan's eyes when she said, "She's pretty, too, you know." She lowers her hand to squeeze her shoulder. "It's okay to think like that."

A flash of panic passes Clara's features. She pulls away as if Dylan had suddenly burned her and she prayed she didn't cross the line. She didn't mean to overstep a boundary. She didn't want to lose a friend already when she had to leave so many behind home in California. All Dylan wanted was for Clara to understand what she felt wasn't wrong and if she felt alone, she wasn't. But Clara doesn't say anything. It's like she was just trying to figure out Dylan's intentions and she couldn't blame her.

What startles them both out of their moment is a sudden cheering that erupts from outside. Dylan's head whips towards the sound when she hears the chants of her brother's name. She's hit with worry that Billy was wasted and did something stupid (it wouldn't have been the first time), and she'd have to sweep in to yank him out. But it seems Billy found his crowd. Two new buddies are on either side of his broad shoulders as he takes a puff of a cigarette as they guide him to face the couple that Clara was eyeing. Dylan can hear them even from their distance.

"We got ourselves a new Keg King, Harrington."

"Yeah, eat it, Harrington!"

Once again, the world kept moving. It doesn't matter that Billy is measuring his dick with some popular kid or that a bunch of teenagers are getting wasted. Clara shakes her head in sudden disgust. "What a dick."

"That dick," Dylan jabs a finger in his direction. "Is my idiot brother."

Clara's skin flushed deeper in realization and embarrassment. "Oh - Billy - that's who Tina wanted to come... I'm so sorry, I didn't know, honey," she stumbled clumsily through her words.

"Oh my God, do not apologize," Dylan reassures her. She thinks about the bruise on her neck. The ones Clara couldn't see. The things he's done. "Calling him a dick is the nicest thing you could say about him. Trust me."

The couple Dylan had pointed out had bumped into Clara's back on accident. The preppy girl Clara couldn't seem to take her eyes off grinned once she realizes who was there and pressed herself to her tippy toes so she can throw her arms over the back of Clara's shoulders. "Hey, Clara! We haven't seen you all night!" She greets with an excited grin. Her stunning blue eyes landed on Dylan. "Who's this?"

Dylan recognizes the mask that Clara places over her face. It's the same one she wears herself. They weren't too different after all. It's so easy to pretend you're someone you're not. She can only hope her earlier words possibly meant something.

"This is my new friend Dylan, Nancy," Clara introduces her with a fond smile. "All the way from California, Dylan Hargrove herself!"

Dylan flashes them a bright smile and stuck her hand out. "It's nice to meet you guys."

The one coddling Clara, Nancy Dylan remembers, smiles warmly back at her. She is cute. Dylan can clearly tell she has a pleasant buzz going on as well from the way she stumbles to the giggle between her lips, surrounded by flushed skin. The guy next to her who stands like an overprotective shadow stares at Dylan with an unreadable expression. It's like he was trying to pick her apart and Dylan catches on as to why. Clara slipped when she said Dylan's last name.

Dylan was all too used to it. She started to lower her hand before Harrington snapped out of it, changed his mind about judgment, and clapped his hand into hers. "It's nice to meet you, Dylan," he says kindly. Dylan didn't expect him to be as warm, but accepted it anyway. It was a nice change even if she was far from deserving it. "My name's Steve."

"I'm going to borrow Clara for a minute," Nancy suddenly announces. There's a slight slur in her words but she hooks her chin over Clara's shoulder with a following giggle as she tugs her towards her. Dylan smiles at the blush overtaking Clara's face. The poor girl was stunned into silence and doesn't make a move to fight while she was tugged away to get lost in a whirlwind of dances.

Steve sighs as he watches. His posture sags. "She's been impossible to keep up with all night. I don't know what's got her so... So wild."

Dylan can't help but feel bad for him. His girlfriend is dancing off with another girl who she easily guessed was her supposed "best friend". What was going through Steve's mind? He's probably worried. "I wouldn't think about it too much, Harrington." Dylan knows her smile is much friendlier than Billy's and Steve isn't intimidated by it. She tries to keep it that way with the desperate belief that she can't be like her brother. "She seems like a great girl. Clara is too. But sometimes you..." She takes a deep breath. "Sometimes you have to put yourself first."

Her words brought Steve to look slightly taken back. He even seemed touched by Dylan's insistent to do something she couldn't bring herself to do. "That makes sense," he agrees, brown eyes soft. "Thanks, Dylan."

Dylan shrugs before lightly pushing his shoulder. "Don't worry about it. Just keep an eye on them, Harrington. It's sort of all you can do."

Steve smiles back. "You're not as bad as you seem yourself, Hargrove."

Dylan flinches.

She didn't mean to, but it doesn't go unnoticed. The smile slips off of Steve's face even when he doesn't realize his mistake. Dylan hates the use of her last name. She hates the reminder that she's related to Neil and Billy even though she can't escape it. It's the only flaw Dylan believed her mother had, so devoted to a man who didn't want her, enough to continue his family name in their child. It makes her sick to think about it every time.

"You okay?"

Just like that, Dylan snaps out of it. She laughs like she didn't just get lost in her own dark thoughts and Steve was overthinking her reaction. "I'm fine! Just need a drink."

She quickly left before Steve could ask another question. Dylan waited until he couldn't see her anymore before she allow the mask to slip just a tad as a shudder overtakes her body even though she desperately tried to compose herself. She swallows a sob before it could leave her throat. Dylan tells herself she doesn't want to be herself anymore. She doesn't want to be this.

A girl just like her brother. Someone who couldn't change (even though she wanted to so desperately). Who saved their own skin regardless at the cost of others. Who had no choice but to be a Hargrove because being so was etched in their DNA. Dylan wants to be a good person. She's afraid of what will happen if she considers that she can't be. So afraid in fact that Dylan refused to face it. It seemed better to swallow it along with the lump in her throat as she downs a glass she filled with whatever was in the punch bowl.

It's not too strong. Dylan can taste the lingering traces of alcohol, but whoever made it likely used too much punch. She's had stronger mixed beverages back home. It was starting to look like everything was better in California. At least Dylan could take a few things with her to Hawkins even if she had to leave the sun behind. Plus, she was starting to think there were things in Hawkins she could make a new home out of, Clara included. Dylan may not be a great person but she can say she gives a damn about people which is something she's positive neither Neil nor Billy had ever done.

But Steve doesn't seem to remember Dylan's advice or he does or he's too dumb at that moment to actually take it closer to heart. She's startled when she hears Nancy's voice carry through the music, exclaiming, "Steve, stop!" Before a horrible spill and then a final curse, "what the hell?"

Dylan spun to survey what was happening. Clara had her palm pressed over her mouth in surprise while Nancy glared daggers at Steve. Her white top now seemed paper-thin thanks to the pink drink splattered across, drenching the cloth. Nancy shakes her head in dismay and takes off with Steve following her steps. Dylan saw Clara hadn't moved and nudges her way through the wordless crowd to find her.

Someone turns the music louder and chatter rises again. Dylan takes hold of Clara's hand and squeezes it to bring her back to Earth and snap her out of whatever stunned state she was left in. "Hey, are you okay? What happened?" Dylan interrogates worriedly.

"I don't know," Clara admits in her frazzled condition. She turns her head to survey their area as if she'd see Nancy somewhere. It seems like something else was in the back of her mind that Dylan couldn't exactly put her finger on. Maybe being here brought up some bad memories and the scene between Steve and Nancy certainly didn't help.

A beat of silence passes between them as Dylan makes the attempt to understand her while the other just blocked her out. There was something else she didn't want her to know.

"Come on," Dylan spoke up and tugs Clara to follow her. The party's over for them. "Let's find your friend and get her out of here."

The last person Dylan expected to bump into was Steve on their way. He bulldozed past them before either of the girls could get a word out. Dylan watched the back of his head disappear before she snaps out of it. Nancy was inching towards being wasted the last time Dylan remembered seeing her. If Steve was mad about something, he was sober and could hold his own. Nancy shouldn't be alone. Dylan lets him go to pout about whatever as she and Clara work together to locate Nancy.

It's easier than Dylan thought it would be since most of the teenagers have crowded in the living room. Nancy is slumped on the bathroom floor, seemingly barely conscious, and someone standing over her. Dylan recognizes the tall figure and shaggy, brown hair quickly. She curls her nose and lets go of Clara's hand to clench her own. "Hey, get away from her - !"

The boy quickly turned around and his eyes widened. Jonathan quickly realized how this all looked. And it didn't look too good. "Oh my God, no," he breathes anxiously. "I would never, I wanted to make sure she was okay - "

Clara thrusts her arm over Dylan's chest and lightly pushes her back. "It's okay, Dylan. Jonathan's not like that," she defends him. Dylan's eyebrows furrow even though she backs down. Clara wouldn't defend Jonathan if she didn't mean it, but she still can't help but wonder, how did she know him too? It was a small town, but she knew him well enough to stand up for what he was doing even if it didn't look good.

He's relieved that Dylan took a step back at Clara's security even though there's still distrust in her green eyes. Clara takes the lead since they don't need another escalation especially when Nancy is mumbling to herself on the floor hazily. She squats and gently takes hold of the girl's arms. "Nance, hey, it's me. Are you okay?" She asks as her thumb gently rubs circles into the sleeves of her damp shirt.

Nancy tries to open her eyes, but they must feel heavy. She nods. But then she shakes her head.

"Alright. We're gonna get you home, okay?" Clara promises. She motions for Jonathan to help her.

Dylan is merely just a bystander here. She's absolutely useless as Jonathan and Clara each take Nancy's arms and help her to her feet. The girl is hardly steady as they guide her through the party. She doesn't make it easy, whining under her breath, dragging her two feet, and asking for another drink. Dylan tries to shush the poor girl and keep her calm as they bring her outside. Surely the cool, night air will do her some good. But it doesn't do anything to ease Dylan Hargrove.

Her brother is in some jock's face with a scowl that could kill.

Oh, God, Dylan thinks. She shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath. Billy's picking a fight. He's worse when he's drunk. If he starts something he can't finish (and seeing that he's swaying, she doubts he can), Neil would know something was up and throw a fit. Dylan would end up in the crossfire without a doubt.

"I'll be back," Dylan mumbles to Clara. She takes off before anyone could respond as she fixed the neckline of her shirt and plastered a smile on her face.

"Billy, where have you been?! I've been worried!" Dylan exclaims as if she cared at all. Billy's glare averted to his sister. He's unaware she was about to save his ass. She grabs his arm, the leather of his jacket almost slick with either sweat or alcohol. She decides she doesn't want to know. Dylan dug her fingers a little deeper so he could almost feel her nails reach his skin as a warning to shut up and let her handle this.

The jock in his green and white lettermen's jacket eyes Dylan suspiciously. But she takes advantage of the glimmer in his eyes and the interest he obviously has in her. "I'm so sorry if my brother was any trouble. Please don't hold it against us," she apologizes sweetly.

It works. Dylan didn't expect anything less. He smiles back at her while his eyes unmistakably scan her. "It's no trouble," he dismisses.

"Thank you," Dylan exhales as if it was a relief. She hears Billy scoff and knows their time is up so she guides him away.

Once they're out of earshot, Billy hisses, "I don't need you to fight my battles for me."

Emotion wipes into a clear slate on Dylan's face. "Shut up and give me your keys."

"Fat chance."

Dylan looks past him to shoot her friend an apologetic glance. It looks like she wasn't going to be available to help after all. So much for a great night. It was a long shot anyway that Billy wouldn't ruin something for her and an even bigger chance that he'd give her his keys since he let nobody drive the Camaro, but she wasn't letting him behind the wheel. If Dylan left him alone, there's no telling what moronic, drunk thing he'd get himself into whether it was a fight or crashing his car.

And she shouldn't care. Dylan tells herself she doesn't. She tries to believe it.

But at the same time, she can't help it.

Dylan's bracing herself for another fight. There's no doubt Billy would be a pain in her ass. She's going to have to hold Billy down and search his pockets for his keys and is already planning how to do so when the last person she expects to want to help appears.

He's clearly hesitant and keeps a distance between them. Jonathan bit at his bottom lip before he finds the courage to speak. "Do you need some help?" He offers.

Dylan considers it. Billy wasn't an average height or weight for a seventeen year old. Once he hit his growth spurt, he started working out like a maniac, and his muscles made him heavy and harder to deal with. Jonathan could make it easier.

"What about Nancy?" Dylan questions.

"Clara only had one drink. I gave her my keys to take her home. You seemed like you could use the help," Jonathan explained.

Dylan's brother staggers towards him. A finger poking out from his fingerless gloves jabs in Jonathan's direction. "I don't need your help either, Creep," Billy snarls.

The second he's distracted, Dylan shoved her hand into the pocket of his jeans and is grateful when her fingers brush against metal. She quickly rips them out despite his spluttering protests and shoves him towards the direction of the blue Camaro standing out under the moonlight. "Shut up, Billy," she snaps. Dylan took a deep breath and glanced at Jonathan to give him an out. "You don't have to..."

The venom Billy hurled at him looked like it had no effect on Jonathan. He's still well composed and unbothered, his only intention was to help. "It's okay. I don't mind." He offers his hand. "Do you want me to drive?"

"I have my permit. Believe me, it'll be easier if I drive," Dylan says. She can handle Billy. She predicts he'll strangle Jonathan from behind before he makes it out of the driveway. She tries to heave his drunken, heavy body, but Billy wasn't making it easy, muttering broken slurs and flailing heavy limbs. Dylan huffs in her struggle before Jonathan appears.

She doesn't know what it was. But Dylan's grateful. Jonathan has to practically drag Billy across the lawn littered with other teenagers, but they eventually reach his Camaro with minimal struggle. They work together to shove Billy laying down in the backseat and with victory, Dylan slams the door shut.

She waits until they're in the driver and passenger seat before expressing any gratitude. "Thank you." Dylan shoves the keys she stole in the ignition and waits for the engine to rumble. "He's such a pain in my ass."

Jonathan smiles - the first time she's seen one, Dylan thinks - and nods even though he doesn't know the half of it. "I have a brother too. Older or younger?" He asks as Dylan clumsily pulls out of the driveway.

They ignore Billy's protest since there's not much else he can do when he's as intoxicated. "He's older by a few months, but same age," Dylan replies. She grips the leather wheel a tad tighter and gives the road she's focused on a weak smile. "Different moms," she explains when noticing Jonathan's confusion out of the corner of her eye.

"Oh." Jonathan caught on that he was pressing on Dylan's boundaries and backed off. It's quiet again except for Billy's heavy breathing. Dylan half-expected her brother to try and choke her out any minute.

At least it wouldn't be the first time.

"I'm sorry," Jonathan suddenly piped up. He nervously fidgeted with his hands. "I didn't mean anything by... By taking that picture. Capturing true moments in pictures is just, it's important to me. I didn't mean... I didn't mean anything by it. The real you is - "

"Pretty?" Dylan teases. She thrived in the way that Jonathan blushed wordlessly.

She laughs. Any grudge she had against Jonathan was slowly decreasing in size. Dylan wouldn't defend the picture he took the same way she couldn't defend she shouldn't have been snooping in something personal of his. At least he saw his wrongdoings. Dylan believes it's the first time in her life that a man had ever apologized to her.

They pull into the familiar house. Dylan sighs in relief when she saw Neil and Susan's bedroom light was off before cutting the engine. "Thank you for apologizing," she expresses quietly instead of saying simply that it was okay. Jonathan nods.

It's somehow easier to drag Billy out of the car than it was to shove him in. Dylan keeps a hand on his keys in case he gets any funny ideas as she drags him towards the front door. It wouldn't be the first time the Hargrove half-siblings snuck into their house under their father's nose even though it was usually apart. Dylan stops when they reach the front door, one of Billy's heavy arms hung over her shoulders. She glanced behind her to see Jonathan with his hands in his pockets.

Thank you, Dylan mouths as Jonathan sends her one last smile before disappearing across the sidewalk. She smiles at the back of his head and considered before her head hit the pillow that night that Hawkins could be half as sweet as California.

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author's note:

HELLO HELLO!! the last time i posted a chapter, the season 4 trailer had just come out - and here we are!! no spoilers in my comments pls. i've seen it, but that doesn't mean everyone else has.

that being said ... dylan is going to go through quite a lot of pain. if you've seen the season feel free to check out my tiktok bottledkodas.wp for some edits of our girl. it will HURT.

anyway, about the chapter, dylan & jonathan finally had a cute interaction. and clara's crush on nancy? you'll see more of them too. they have my heart. dylan gay dancing with clara? oh i hope that scene wasn't cringey. i didn't want to do "they sway their hips with their hands in the air" cause THATS cringey. i haven't seen teen wolf but i've seen snippets cause clara's fc was in the show, so that dance with her character and malia (i think that's her name) was inspiring it!

oh and psa while i would never be behind the wheel even after one drink, no matter how weak, this was a different time as now & as i said dylan & clara were stable enough to drive. i just wanna address that incase anyone is wondering why i took that route. please drink responsibly kids. ❤️

that being said i know this chapter was mostly boring but things are about to get super heavy especially in the next chapter. i hope everyone's ready. thank you for your guys's patience and i'll be back soon! ❤️

- koda

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