"And what happened after that?"

"Nothing, Rob. He just dropped me off, and that's when I came inside and called you."

Willow had spent the last thirty minutes on the phone with Robin, having immediately ran to her kitchen to call her best friend the moment she was out of Eddie's van. She could still smell the stench of tobacco and something sweeter, a cologne most likely, clinging to her after sitting in his passenger seat.

"Oh, c'mon. You couldn't have at least lied and made it interesting?" Robin whines, and Willow imagines her face all scrunched up.

"No, since apparently, I'm a terrible liar," Willow still isn't going to let that go - not with Eddie, not with Robin. She still found it unfair that they thought so little of her skill of bending the truth, even omitting it at times.

"You've gotta get over that one, even Eddie agrees with me."

"Yeah, he's also on my shit list for it."

"Does he know he's on your shit list?"

"Well, no-"

"Hm. Interesting double standards."

" Buckley , I'm going to hang up on you, I swear," Willow threatens, twisting the excess of the phone cord around her fist, "Anyways, my point of calling was to keep you updated, and to let you know that I won't need rides after tomorrow morning."

"Why after tomorrow morning? Just start getting rides from him tomorrow."

"Jesus Christ," Willow mutters, "You two sound the exact same."

"So he did offer to start giving you rides starting tomorrow morning?" Robin presses, "If he did, then go for it. It's like he told you, if you replace Steve with Eddie without batting an eyelash, it's going to drive Harrington wild. Sure, I'll have to put up with the backlash, but if this is a means to the end in which you two stop making heart eyes and just get together already -"

"Alright, alright, alright. I get it. But I need to tell Steve in person and...." Willow trails off, realization settling heavy on her chest; she hadn't seen Steve in two days now. Since meeting, they had never gone this long without seeing each other. Maybe it had been Willow's crush, or maybe it had been Steve's loneliness, but once Robin had introduced the two properly as friends, they became inseparable. If Willow didn't go and bug Steve during his shifts, her days felt incomplete.

"You two still need to make up," Robin reminds Willow, pulling her back out of her mind.

Willow nods slowly before remembering Robin can't see her, finally softly replying, "Yeah, we do."

"Maybe we should all meet up tonight, hang out just for the hell of it?" Robin offers, and while Willow appreciates it, she doesn't know if she has the stomach for it tonight .

Don't be a pussy , Willow thinks to herself. She needs to agree, or she knows she'll avoid Steve for even longer. And soon a silly disagreement will become a week-long ordeal that has only worsened with age.

"Fine. Okay. What do we want to do?" Willow didn't give herself a chance to hesitate, or a chance to take it back. She needed Robin to lock her into plans and lock her into them fast .

"How about bowling? We haven't gone since-"

"Since you and Steve nearly killed each other from being too competitive? Is that really the best idea?" Willow reminds Robin, twisting the cord around her fist even tighter. Her knuckles were beginning to turn white and the tips of her fingers were numb from lack of blood flow.

"You've got a better one?" Robin asks. And she knows, Willow knows, the whole town knows that bowling is probably their best bet. There's not much else to do around Hawkins.

"Okay, just... promise you guys won't tear each other's throats out?"

---

"Take that, Harrington!" Robin cheers once she manages yet another strike.

"Oh, fuck off, Buckley," Steve groans as he falls back against the bench beside Willow.

Even after Robin promised that she wouldn't make the entire ordeal into an excuse for a competition, it was inevitable. The moment they walked through the door, Robin Buckley was trying to prove hers was bigger than Steve Harrington's. In the most loving way possible, of course.

"You know what? I think I need celebratory nachos. Anyone else want nachos?" Robin is grinning, making finger guns at her two friends as she begins to walk past them to the snack counter.

Willow realizes all too quickly she's been left alone with Steve.

They still hadn't brought up the fight. As a matter of fact, they had been pretending that nothing ever happened. And Willow should be ecstatic, even take it as a signal that she didn't have to apologize, but Steve's disingenuity cut her even deeper than another fight would have. She just wanted her friend to talk to her, even if it started in a screaming match. She'd rather Steve scream at her than ignore her, than to pretend everything was alright when the ache in her bones was shouting that it wasn't.

"So," Willow breaks the silence, putting on her big girl pants, "How was your date the other day?"

Steve isn't expecting it. Clearly, he thought they were on the same page of burying down the issue until it blew back up in their faces at a later time. "Uh, it was okay. I don't think there'll be a second one, though."

"Oh, why not?" Willow asks in a desperate attempt to keep the conversation going, making sure her voice was light and airy. She doesn't want any jealousy to seep into her tone.

It's one of the hardest things she's ever done.

"She ducked out of the way when I went to kiss her cheek at the end of the date," Steve admits sheepishly. Willow feels bad for the snort that escapes her lips as she leans back into the bench similar to how Steve had, their thighs now brushing.

"You got cooties, Harrington?" Willow teases, momentarily deciding to push off her apology. She'd get to it. For now, it was just nice to be back to semi-normal with Steve.

"According to Casey Fawn, I do!" he exclaims, running a hand through his hair as he smiles alongside Willow. "I mean, I know I'm not that smooth, but I just wanted to kiss her cheek ."

"Haven't you heard? Chivalry is out, being a jerk is all the rage in Cosmopolitan these days," Willow bumps her shoulders against Steve's. The touch soothes the fire of uncertainty raging inside her at the moment, albeit only minimally.

After they laugh a bit more, it's quiet. The sounds of the few groups gathered around them fill their space rather than their own words. Willow is going over in her head how to apologize to Steve, how to go about saying ' Hey, I was just being a bitch. But also, I went against all your warnings and need to break it to you that I don't need rides to school anymore. But if you could give me rides home? Yeah. That's great.'

"I'm sorry," Steve blurts out, and Willow is shocked. He's wringing his hands in his lap, anxiety coming off of him in waves.

"Sorry for what?"

"The other day. I've just- Man, I've been such an asshole lately. Just after... after the- well, you know. The mall incident," Steve motions with his hands, clearly being vague since they're in public, "I think I just got a bit overwhelmed, and I took it out on you. And I guess, technically speaking, Eddie Munson too."

Willow smiles at this, leaning forward to get a better look at Steve's embarrassed face, "Is the Steve Harrington actually apologizing for being a jerk?"

"He is," Steve nods, meeting Willow's thrilled gaze immediately, "He is, and he hopes his best friend knows that he's going to spend the next like, month making it up to her."

"Be careful tossing around 'best friend'," Willow warns, "Robin might castrate you."

"I know, I know. But we both know she's not going to share her nachos with us, so it's what she deserves," Steve waves it off, relaxing a bit.

"Yeah, not a chance. She's earned them, you know, with the three strikes in a row and all," Willow throws her hand up, pointing in the general direction of the screen as Steve leans back his head with a breathy laugh, following her finger. She waits a moment, a sweet and ginger moment of Steve looking back to her and reaching up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, when she finally decides it's time to swallow her own pride now, "I'm sorry, too. I was sort of a bitch."

"No, you weren't-"

"I was. It's okay to say it, we're best friends, yeah? I was a bitch and you were an asshole, end of story. Just as long as you forgive me, it's already forgotten and in the past."

"That depends," Steve grins, hitting his knees into hers intentionally this time, "Am I forgiven?"

"You were forgiven the moment you left Denny's yesterday, asshole," Willow rolls her eyes, throwing a soft slap at Steve's shoulder.

"That quickly?"

"Always that quickly."

Always . Willow wasn't even sure she could ever actually get truly, genuinely pissed off at Steve. Any time he did something that frustrated her, that made her the slightest bit angry, there was always a corner of her heart on his side.

Robin interrupts the moment when she bounds up to them, nachos in one hand, a slurpee in the other, "You two better have made up, or God so help me-"

"We did," Steve interrupts her, standing up and snatching a nacho from her plate before she can react. By the time Robin has geared up to yell at him, he's already swallowing, leaving behind a bit of nacho cheese in the corner of his mouth.

Willow follows suit, doing the exact same thing while Robin is too busy glaring at Steve.

"And you said she wouldn't share," she teases, leaning down to the table in front of their bench and grabbing a napkin for herself, and a napkin for Steve. She leans back up and holds it out to him, subtly pointing to the corner of his mouth.

"I'm not ," Robin insists roughly, pulling her nachos out of their reaches, "Get your own celebratory nachos."

Steve and Willow are still laughing at their mini-heist of nachos as they gather up all their things, making their way out of the bowling alley and back to Steve's car. Everything is feeling normal again - Willow is sitting shotgun, Robin is refusing to buckle her seatbelt, and Steve is driving like a grumpy old man. The conversation is full of inside jokes and more time is spent arguing over what music to listen to than actually listening to music before they make it to Robin's house. Everything is exactly as it should be.

Until Willow and Steve are alone in the car.

Robin exits the backseat with the promise of seeing them tomorrow, and they wave her off. Steve gives her time to get inside before he takes off, beginning the short remainder of the drive to Willow's home. They don't talk, not right away, instead letting Abba chip away at the awkward silence.

"Since when do you like Dancing Queen?" Willow suddenly questions as she watches Steve tap away on his steering wheel to the song.

Steve shrugs. "It's hard not to get it stuck in my head when I'm constantly hanging around you and Rob."

"We aren't that big of Abba fans."

"Oh, yes , you are. Absolutely. I've never met anyone who can get down to them like you two can."

"Get down?" Willow's nose scrunches up, "Really? Please, for both our sake, never say that again."

The conversation dies back down as quickly as Willow had tried to revive it as they pull into her driveway. Her mom's car is home. She doesn't move to leave Steve's car for a moment, wanting to just savor the moment. Something about Steve's presence is nice, warm and inviting and familiar . His car smells clean and she notices the way his cologne smells for the first time in a while.

But then, she frustrates herself. Because her first thought isn't how she wants to wrap up in its vanilla undertones or how nice it would be to wear one of his shirts that smell like this. No, her first thought is an unnecessary comparison.

He smells sweeter, softer than Eddie.

It's an unbiased observation. She isn't trying to figure out which cologne she likes better, or who brings her more comfort, or who's car she could sit in longer. But the observation alone sends her spiraling back to the memory of the day before.

"Take a left here," Willow instructed as Eddie approached her street at an alarming speed, "And slow down , this is a residential area, Eddie!"

"So? I don't see any kids out in the street," Eddie snarked back, flinging them around the corner like Willow had specifically told him not to.

"And you won't, not going so fast. You'll probably think it's just a speed bump, Jesus Christ," Willow muttered and gripped the edge of the passenger seat she was buckled into. Eddie's van didn't have handles above their heads like Steve's car did, leaving her with nothing to ground herself as he raced towards her home.

She decided to focus on the music playing over the radio instead, keeping her mind distracted so she wouldn't have a heart attack before Eddie got her home in (hopefully) one piece. "What kind of music is this?"

The music sounded similar to what Corroded Coffin had played. And while it still wasn't a genre that Willow would listen to on her own, it was still grasping her interest.

"You're kidding, right?" Eddie asked, hair fluttering as he twisted his head to briefly look at her before turning back to the road.

"Dead serious, Munson," Willow insisted, waiting for his answer.

"Oh, you know... it's only the greatest band of all time," Eddie snorted, fingers tapping along violently to the heavy guitar pumping through his speakers. He looked at Willow again, who was staring at him completely clueless. "I can't believe it. You really don't know Metallica."

"I mean, I've heard of them!" Willow defended, waving her hand wildly at the stereo, "I've just never listened to them!"

"Oh, no, Red. We can't have that. As my fake girlfriend, I'm insisting you get up to date on all metal bands."

Willow's joking smile faded quickly, a nervous grin taking its place as she leaned back into her seat properly. "I, uh- I'm not the biggest metal fan."

"Really? Never woulda guessed," Eddie's words dripped with sarcasm, no ill intent behind them as he kept his teasing smile and looked her up and down for emphasis. She got the message, loud and clear: she definitely didn't look the part of a metalhead. "That's why you've got me."

"Yeah? What if I don't want to get 'up to date' with metal bands?" Willow countered Eddie. She can tell by his reaction that he was enjoying the way she goes toe-to-toe with him. She not only took his shit, but she gave it right back to him. Even after only knowing each other for such a short time.

"I'm officially making it part of our terms and conditions. I help you get Harrington, you become a Metallica fan. It's an even exchange, Red," Willow didn't even cringe when Eddie brought up Steve this time. She had given up - there was no point in lying to Eddie. She was just going to continue down the road of never directly confirming. It worked out just fine for both of them.

Willow shook her head, hair still falling over her shoulders, "What? No way! That is not a fair deal. No, if I have to listen to your music, you have to listen to mine."

"And what is your music?"

Willow grinned, "Fleetwood Mac, Queen, Blondie. I also have a soft spot for Toto. Oh! And Tears for Fears! I love them."

Eddie listened to Willow ramble about her music taste without saying a word, making a mental note of each band named. She was shocked when she finished the thought and he didn't immediately quip a smart-ass remark.

"What? No comment? No telling me how much my taste in music sucks?" Willow questioned before noticing they were coming up on her street, "Also, turn right up here."

"Sorry, I think you just broke my brain with how hopeless you are," Eddie finally said after taking the right turn just as roughly as the first turn Willow had instructed him on.

"Hopeless? C'mon, you have to admit my taste could be worse," Willow deadpanned, mind having wandered to Robin's taste. Or Nancy Wheeler's, who absolutely ate up every neon pop song that existed.

"I don't have to admit shit," Eddie retaliated, "Your music taste is shit. Period. End of discussion."

Willow pretended to not hear him, only turning to him when he slapped her knee to regain her attention. "Huh? Sorry, I couldn't hear you over the screams of your righteous taste in music. Seriously, do you always listen to your music this loud? Maybe your issue in school is your hearing. Do we need to get your ears checked?"

"Fuck off," Eddie cackled.

Willow once again pretended to have issues hearing him, motioning mockingly between the radio and her ears, making a face, "Sorry! Still can't hear you!"

"Alright, alright, asshole," Eddie mumbled with a smile as leaned forward and turned down the music, "Better?"

"Much," Willow replied, smiling sarcastically at Eddie, "My house is the brick one up on the left up here," she pointed to where her home sat, her mother's car missing from the driveway.

"This is your humble abode?" Eddie questioned as he pulled into the empty driveway. Willow's knuckles turned white as she gripped the seat even more roughly, Eddie having driven in so fast that she was worried he was going to blow through her garage door.

"Yeah, I know. It's a mansion, right?" Willow joked. The small one-story home clearly wasn't anything special, but it was the best that her and her mom could do for now. "My mom... she's a nurse, so when we left my dad, we couldn't afford anything super nice. And it's just kind of stuck, I guess."

Willow didn't know why she was defending herself and her home to Eddie. By the look on his face, he clearly didn't mind how big her house was.

"Hey, I live in a trailer park. No judgment here," Eddie tried to comfort her, and the information was a bit of a shock.

"Really? I had no idea."

"Most people don't. I mean, no one at school has any real reason to know where the freak lives, right? Not throwing any parties or anything."

Willow shook her head and finally reached to unbuckle herself from the seat. "Well, I guess next time, we'll have to go back to your place. It's only fair you show me yours now that I've shown you mine."

Eddie picked up on her cheeky tone, "Oh, of course. I am, after all, a gentleman. I promise you'll see my humble pile of trailer trash I call home by the end of the week."

"Hey! Don't call it trash. No shame in living within your means," Willow chastised him, leaning down to grab her backpack from the floor of the van, "I guess I'll see you tomorrow then?" her voice was hopeful, though if you asked her, she would have denied it.

Lucky for her, Eddie seemed just as hopeful, "Wouldn't miss it for the world. I think this is a record for how long I've gone without ditching."

"Really? Three days? If you want to graduate, you actually have to attend your classes, Eddie," Willow reprimanded him, hand on the door but making no move to open it yet.