History Must Repeat Itself

Chapter 34

          The teenagers followed me out of the house, gripping onto their bags awkwardly. Turning the corner, Steve was chasing Max down the driveway.

"Max, Max. Seriously. Seriously, I'm not joking. I'm not driving you anywhere, and neither is Jess." He looked back at me. It was more of a glare, warning me not to disagree. I wasn't planning on it. Steve would break anyway.

"If you think I'm going to spend what is likely the last day of my life in the armpit that is Mike Wheeler's basement, you're out of your mind," Max explained, determined, "either take me where I need to go or tie me down, which is technically kidnapping of a minor. And if I live to see another day, Steve, I swear to God, I will prosecute," Max told him, grabbing the back doors' handle. It didn't budge. "Open the door."

"Uh, no."

"I know a good lawyer."

I stood at the front passenger's door, elbow resting against the car roof. Max had no expression, glaring at Steve. He looked back with disbelief. His mouth hung open, having no idea what to say next. A smirk quietly sat on my face. Steve turned to me for help. I scratched my nose, shrugging. I don't know what he expected. There was a reason everyone joked that Max was separated from my family at birth.

In his eyes, I watched his resolve break. He shook his head.

"Henderson, that super walkie of yours better reach Pennhurst," he snapped, as if it was Dustin's fault we were leaving the Wheeler house.

I knowingly smiled at Max over car's roof, shaking my head. She alone would turn Steve's hair grey. Looking out the front window, I felt Steve's gaze as he backed us out of the driveway. I couldn't look at him. I was embarrassed I let him kiss me last night. I should've known it was only an 'in the moment' thing. That seemed to be how my love life worked in Hawkins. My poor heart. It was scarred from Billy Hargrove, cracked by Eddie Munson, and now the bruise that started over a year ago from Steve Harrington was throbbing.

"Where are we going?" Steve asked.

"My house," Max bluntly answered. The envelope in my bag weighed ten pounds. I could only imagine the worst. I ran my fingers aimlessly across the chain around my neck. I hated Max was preparing for her looming death and her main focus was how we would feel.

Hearing a huff beside me, I glanced at Steve. He was annoyed with himself for breaking under Max's glare. He ran his hand through his damp hair with frustration. I glanced back at Max. She was staring out the window. I was glad she didn't turn. She'd be able to read whatever emotions were uncontrollably shining in my eyes. I faced forwards again. I didn't want to imagine life without Max.

I had moments I wished I'd never come to Hawkins. Most of them were petty and selfish. But the kids behind me, and the others on the West Coast, most specifically the red haired girl with a curse, made me remember I didn't regret a moment. The Upside Down opened up before I was here. Billy would've died whether I was here or not. I could only help her through it.

          Steve pulled into the trailer park. I stared through the car's front window, not looking at the trailer across from Max's. However, I couldn't miss Wayne's truck out front. He'd be sleeping right now after a long night at work. Alone in that trailer for the first time in over a decade. His nephew's bedroom sat empty. I'd spend so many days and nights inside of that damn trailer. Entering Eddie's bedroom, his electric guitar hung over the mirror in all her glory. I only held it once.

"This better be fast, Mayfield," Steve instructed her, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Twenty seconds," she said, closing the car door behind her.

Steve glanced back at Dustin in the centre seat. "That thing's got batteries in it, right?"

When Dustin didn't say anything, I turned. He was staring at Steve, unamused.