Groveling was an understatement. It took Steve 2 weeks of groveling at school, after school, on the Wheeler doorstep, on the phone, before Christine would even look at him. Finally on exactly 2 weeks since the Colorado trip she let him speak...and boy was it terrible.
"Christine please be reasonable about this okay? Why don't you understand?"
"I understand just fucking fine Steve! Okay?! You used me for a quick screw and then when I wanted more you had to put an end to it. That's fine. But at least spare me the bullshit act about you caring about me okay?" She slammed her locker, shaking her head as she took a few steps to get away from him. However he was quick to grab her arm, pulling her back to the lockers and looking at her with pleading eyes.
"Don't say that. Come on you know I care about you. And it wasn't a quick screw— what are you even saying?" Steve was wondering where all the animosity was coming from, but at the same time he knew he deserved it, he had messed up big. Christine looked down at the hand that was gripping her arm, quickly pulling it out of his grasp and giving him an intense glare.
"Do not touch me." She said in all seriousness, Steve looking at her with furrowed eyebrows as he realized just how angry she was. Her eyes shifted from him to the people in the hallway, a few of them glancing at the heated exchange between the two of them.
"Please just can we talk about it? Can we please try and work this out? You're my friend Chris." Steve said, wondering if he would have to get on his knees to beg in a moment. However her paranoid eyes were quick to flick back to him, and she mulled over the thought for only a second before letting out a frustrated groan.
"Fine. Fine. Your house after school if that's alright with you? I'd say mine but I wouldn't want you to run into Nancy there." Steve closed his eyes at her dig, letting out a sigh as he figured he deserved that. He gave the girl a short nod, confirming that that was fine. By the time he opened his eyes she was gone, and he wanted to rip his hair out. God, she was so frustrating.
:::
Christine sat in her car in front of the Harrington home, going over what she wanted to say. She felt a permanent pit in her stomach just from being here, she really didn't want to talk. She didn't want to spend an entire afternoon forgiving him, listening to him, being next to him. She hated him. He had used her whether he saw it that way or not and she felt nothing but that. She didn't want to listen to him talk about how she was inferior to Nancy, how she just wasn't her. She was sick of it. Of the thought. Of her. Of him. She had never wanted to back to her dads more than she did right now.
Steve opened the front door of the house, his face troubled and nervous. He needed to say the right things, he needed to salvage their relationship. Maybe they couldn't be together but he couldn't imagine her not being his friend anymore. No way. Everything was riding on this conversation. He could not lose her.
He struggled to look directly at her, but he was rather relieved when he heard the car door rather than the car driving away. Before he knew it she was standing in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest and a frown stitched onto her face. He led the way inside, the familiarity in the house that usually welcomed her now making her feel cold and unwelcome. She was pretty pissed.
They headed up the stairs, Steve pushing his bedroom door open and letting her walk through, the boy closing the door and pressing his back to it as she stood by the foot of the bed.
