Chapter 7 - White Horse
Stupid girl, I should've known
That I'm not a princess, this ain't a fairytale
I'm not the one you'll sweep off her feet
When Hopper and Chrissy arrive at the diner, the post-game celebration is already in full swing. Every booth in the small neon-lit establishment is packed with students from Hawkins High and a few of them rise to pat Hopper on the back as he and Chrissy work their way to a table full of his teammates in the far corner.
Going to the diner after the game was a long-standing tradition that Hopper adored. There was always such a positive vibe in the atmosphere and everyone, from the jocks to the nerds participated in the festivities. He settles into a plush leather booth between Benny and Chrissy and orders himself a Coke and a plate of fries.
"Good game man!" a senior student smiles at Hopper from across the table.
"Thanks."
"That last catch, phew, I don't know how you do it."
"It's because he has me to make him look good," Benny brags.
"Always so humble," Hopper laughs in Benny's direction.
The waitress returns and passes Hopper his drink and that's when he sees her, cuddled up in the corner booth with Lonnie. She has her body angled towards the other man and she's laughing. Genuinely laughing. It bothers him. He wants to be the one making her laugh.
He's drawn back into the conversation at his table when Chrissy links her arm through his and lays her palm over his hand. She leans into his shoulder and flirtily flits her eyelashes at him. Smiling at her, he tunes back into what's being said, but every once and a while he finds himself looking over at the corner table.
He zones out when Benny starts rambling about his favourite plays of the game, instead opting to focus on Joyce. She was drinking a chocolate milkshake, her favourite, and twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. She wasn't wearing the red lipstick he'd seen her wear recently, and it reminded him of how naturally beautiful she really was. He thinks that maybe, before everything fell apart, he should have told her how breathtaking she was. She deserved to know.
He watches with envy as her arm brushes against Lonnie's and the hand located beneath Chrissy's clenches instinctually.
He vaguely registers that Chrissy is telling a story, but he has no idea what she's talking about. It was likely about something he'd done. He'd discovered that Chrissy loved to tell their friends about the quirky things he did when they were alone; he didn't love that she shared intimate details of their personal life and recognized that she did it as a means of boasting about their relationship status. He'd never said anything to her about it, but he found it unnecessary and cringe-worthy.
Chrissy turns and notices that Hopper is staring across the room and tightens her grip on his arm.
" James, " she hisses, "are you even listening to me?"
"Of course I'm listening," he lies.
As Chrissy continues her story, Hopper grows restless and pulls his hand from beneath hers. He stretches his arms up over his head and excuses himself to use the restroom. Alone, he makes his way down the aisle, past Joyce's table and to the restroom. He can feel Chrissy glaring at him as he passes Joyce, but he doesn't linger nor does he make eye contact. In the restroom, he groans and splashes himself in the face with cold water. When the water does nothing to aid his anxiety, he decides he needs a cigarette.
Hopper goes back to the table and retrieves his jacket while telling Chrissy he would be back after his smoke. She nods and continues on with her conversation with Karen Wheeler, who had joined the group and claimed Hopper's seat while he was gone.
On his way out he watches as his peers laugh and celebrate and he feels incredibly disconnected. Everyone at their table was hollering and engaged in exciting conversations but all Hopper wanted to do was head home and crawl into bed. He should be in the mood to celebrate. He should be thrilled to have Chrissy here with him, bragging about what an incredible boyfriend he was, yet, he was pouting because his best friend was here with someone else.
Pushing through the door to the diner, Hopper whips out a cigarette and lights it, allowing the immediate rush on his first inhalation to numb the way he feels.
.
.
Typical. It was absolutely typical of Hopper to order a plate of fries while everyone else ordered only soda. Not that she was watching him, she just happened to notice while she was looking around to see if she recognized any of her classmates who were at the diner to celebrate the football team's win. Only, that was a lie because she didn't know any of these people and she'd been keeping an eye on Hopper since he and Chrissy strolled in.
She and Lonnie were sitting in the far corner of the establishment giving her a perfect vantage point and view of Hopper and his pals. Her intention was to have Lonnie drop her off at home but she felt unsettled after her conversation with Hopper and wasn't ready to head home just yet. So, when Lonnie asked if she wanted to join him, she accepted his offer and here they were, tucked away in a small two-person booth watching as their classmates celebrated. She's trying to focus on the story she's being told, something about the latest car Lonnie and his father were working on restoring; she'd recently learned that he spent nearly every weekend with his father, working on restoring cars, but her attention is split between the words he's saying and the way Chrissy has her arm linked through Hoppers.
More than anything, she wants to give Lonnie her undivided attention. He was nice enough to offer her a ride and she felt like she owed him; seeing as she was stringing him along (though he wasn't aware of that fact). But she's preoccupied with the words left unsaid on the field and she needs to know what Hopper's next move will be. She felt as though she'd made it clear that the ball was in his court. The note was the first step to mending their friendship and rather than accept her offer to forget and move forward, he just had to go and complicate things, therefore, it was on him to uncomplicate them.
Lucky for Joyce, the waitress drops off the milkshakes they ordered just as Lonnie asks her a question that she only hears the second half off. She thanks the waitress and immediately takes a large gulp of her chocolate shake.
"Chocolate, huh?" Lonnie remarks. He takes a sip of his own vanilla milkshake and smiles.
"The best kind," she states.
"Okay, don't find this weird, but I've never tried a chocolate milkshake."
"What?! You have to try," she insists, sliding her milkshake towards him.
He takes a sip and pauses before his lips settle into a smile and he pushes the glass back towards her. "Alright. I see what all the hype is about."
"I can't believe you never had a chocolate milkshake," she scoffs. She plays around with the straw in her drink and grins, caught up in the memory of one of the first times she discovered that chocolate was the best kind of milkshake.
.
.
"Why on earth did you get the strawberry?" Hopper asks.
He leans back against the booth and scolds Joyce for her milkshake selection. It was freshman year and he and Joyce had decided to check out the diner that all of the senior students went to before it got too busy with the evening crowd. The pair were sitting across from each other in a booth lining the front window. Joyce was pleasantly surprised with the homey feeling in the diner and commented several times on how much she loved the neon lights on the edges of the window.
"I don't know, it looked good."
"You always get the chocolate, it's an unwritten rule of ordering a milkshake."
"You can just share yours with me," she suggests. With a smirk, she leans over the table and clasps his straw between her lips before he has the chance to slide the glass out of her reach.
"Hey!" he protests. "Get your own!"
"Will it really kill you to share? I'll share mine and we can have one of each," Joyce beams.
"Excuse me," Hopper calls out to the waitress. "Could we get two more straws?"
"More straws?" Joyce whispers.
"If I'm sharing my milkshake with you, we're getting two straws so that you can't hog the entire thing."
"I'm not going to hog the entire thing!"
"Oh really, because it's already on your side of the table," he raises an eyebrow and looks at where the two milkshakes are positioned in front of her.
"You put that there!" she giggles as she pushes it back to the center.
"Why would I put my milkshake there?" he teases her.
"To bother me."
"I would never," he laughs.
"Oh please Hop. Your favourite pastime is bothering me."
"You secretly love it," he winks.
The waitress returns and hands Hopper two straws then smiles between him and Joyce. "It's so nice to see a young couple so in love," the older lady remarks before walking away.
"Oh we're not…" Joyce attempts to correct her, but it's no use, she's already back at the counter.
An awkward silence falls between them and Joyce fiddles with her thumbs while she waits for Hopper to add the new straws to the drinks.
"Can you believe that she thought-" he begins with a forced chuckle.
"Gosh no. How crazy would that be?"
"Totally crazy," he sighs. They each sip a milkshake and eventually the awkwardness falls away and Hopper is once again teasing Joyce about hogging the chocolate milkshake.
.
.
Lonnie resumes telling his story and Joyce continues to pretend to listen, but she isn't. She notices Chrissy place her hand over Hopper's and feels queasy. A strange realization overcomes her and she suddenly panics. The fate of their relationship was in Hopper's hands but she would never be like Chrissy and she worries that maybe she's allowed herself to become disillusioned with what could be.
It was stupid of her to assume that Hopper would ever choose what he didn't have with her over what he did have with Chrissy. They were perfect. The cheerleader and the jock. Everyone said so. Perhaps she was stupid and naive for believing that she was the type of girl that Hopper would want to sweep off her feet. They may live in a small town, but there were plenty of girls that were better suited for Hopper than she was and he had to see that. She never should have let herself realize she had feelings for him. That was her first mistake.
Before then, she was fine to live in her oblivious bubble. Obliviousness, though not ideal, meant that she wasn't at risk of getting hurt. Now that she was standing here, in the crosshairs of what could have been and what could be, she would give anything to go back and remove the possibility of getting hurt.
It was too late now. Too much had happened and she knew it was foolish to think that they could forget everything and move past it but if that meant they could save some of their friendship, she was still willing to give it a shot.
Lonnie is still talking though all Joyce hears is white noise. She excuses herself and heads to the ladies' room where she splashes her face with cold water. When the water does nothing to calm her, she reaches for the pack of cigarettes in her pocket and returns to the table where she informs Lonnie that she'll be back in a few moments. He nods and tells her he'll be at the table waiting.
She doesn't notice that Hopper is no longer sitting at his own table.
.
.
With Hopper gone, Chrissy begins talking to Karen Wheeler, a fellow senior member of the cheerleading squad. The girls are giggling about a mishap that one of the younger members of the squad had during the on-field performance when Benny asks Chrissy where Hopper ran off to.
"He went out for a smoke," she informs him. "Or maybe he went to go make eyes at a certain brunette where I can't see him doing it."
Her second statement has some bite but Benny ignores the maliciousness in her tone and nods.
"Their friendship is strange, isn't it?" Karen remarks obliviously.
"I don't understand why he wastes his time with her," Chrissy huffs.
Benny, who's listening in on them, just rolls his eyes and sits silently. He knew exactly why Hopper "wasted" so much time with Joyce and he had an odd feeling it was only a matter of time before his friend and Joyce discovered that reason for themselves.
"Wait," a younger boy Chrissy doesn't recognize interjects, "are you talking about the guy that just left here?"
The guy was in a few of Benny's classes and was a member of the junior class, but Chrissy can't be bothered to ask his name. He seemed like a total stoner and if she was being honest, she was already bored of this conversation.
"Yeah, why?" Karen answers.
"Oh man, I feel so bad for that guy's girlfriend. I saw him totally making out with the girl that threw that party last week."
" I'm his girlfriend." Chrissy hisses.
"Oh shit . My bad."
Chrissy looks across the table at Benny, who seems amused by what he's just been told and she scowls.
"You must be thinking of someone else," she fake smiles at the kid.
Chrissy doesn't give the kid a chance to refute her remark and instead whips around to look at where Joyce was previously sitting with some punk rock-looking loner from school when she and Hopper came into the diner. She is irritated to find the male sitting at their booth alone. Joyce, and her boyfriend nowhere to be seen.
Angry, Chrissy gets up and smooths down the edge of her skirt. She gestures for Karen to follow her and marches over to the table where Lonnie Byers is sitting alone.
"Can I help you?" Lonnie asks as the two cheerleaders approach his table.
"Hi," Chrissy smiles down at him. "I'm Chrissy, this is Karen."
Following Chrissy's lead, Karen waves at Lonnie and half-heartedly twirls one of her curls through her fingers.
"Lonnie," he says skeptically.
"That's a nice shirt," Chrissy says, referring to his beaten-up band tee.
"Thanks?"
"How's your night going?" Chrissy pries.
"Fine. Is there a reason you came over here?"
"I just wanted to see how things were going with you and Joyce."
"I didn't realize you two even knew each other," Lonnie says.
"Hop introduced us."
" Right ," Lonnie says dryly.
"So your date is going well?"
"Who said it was a date?"
"Isn't it?"
"What do you want Chrissy?"
"It's too bad really, that Joyce will never actually date you."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"I just think it's a little pathetic. And too bad really."
"What's pathetic?"
"How obsessed she is with Hopper. It's getting ridiculous, she practically follows him around and stalks him."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Oh, you didn't know? She has a total stalker-like crush on him. It's actually a bit sad. He only hangs out with her because he feels bad for her. Anyways, I just thought you should know."
Giggling, she links her arm through Karen's and the two girls head back to their table. Lonnie states after Chrissy and Karen in a daze. He thinks over what he's been told and glances towards the diner door, where he catches sight of Hopper following Joyce to the side of the building.
He knew Joyce and Hopper had a complicated relationship, but maybe it was far more complicated than he initially thought.
.
.
Joyce exits the diner in a hurry, swinging the glass door open and stepping out into the cool evening air with a large sigh. She's too preoccupied with fishing her pack of smokes out of her bag to notice that Hopper is leaning up against the wall next to the door, watching her.
He stares down at her, one foot anchoring him to the wall, cigarette loosely dangling between his chapped lips.
Upon spotting him, Joyce quickly swivels on her heel and marches away from the front of the diner, rounding the building and choosing instead to stand in the alley between the building and the parking lot.
"Joyce," he calls after her. She can hear the crunch of the gravel beneath his boots and knows that he's following her but she doesn't slow down.
"Joyce! Please stop," he yells. He sounds defeated and it tugs on something within her and forces her to stop stalking away. Standing rooted in her spot in the alley, she whips around to face him, messy hair falling across her face as she spins around. "What?!" she snaps.
"Can we finish our conversation from earlier?" he asks sheepishly.
"I think it's best we don't."
"Look, I'm sorry that we were interrupted. But don't shut me out."
"Don't be sorry. After all, she's your girlfriend , she had every right to interrupt the conversation we were having."
"Joyce," he sighs. "Can we not talk about her right now? This is about you and I."
Hopper takes a step towards her but Joyce stubbornly holds her ground and squares her shoulders to show that she isn't affected by their close proximity. It's an act, she's insanely affected, but she refuses to show him what he does to her.
"There's nothing to talk about," she shrugs, doing her best to act neutral.
"There's plenty to talk about."
Another step. She's standing between him and the wall of the diner, and though they're outside it's suddenly hard to breathe.
"You want to talk? Alright, fine. Why? Why can't we just forget about everything that's happened and move on?" she demands to know. Her eyes scan his but she finds no sign that he's going to shy away from answering her.
"Why?" he growls. He leans towards her and forces her back to collide with the brick while he leans down and allows his nose to hover near hers. Their breath mingles and they both gasp before he speaks in a hushed, tortured tone, "Because it's taking everything in me not to kiss you again right now."
He leans in and allows his lips to hover near her ear, sending a shiver rippling through her body.
"Joyce, I want-"
"You think you want," she corrects his unfinished statement. Finding her strength, she snaps out of her Hopper-infused haze and decides she can't lose herself to lust when they needed to talk this out.
"What?" he blinks. He leans away from her and stares down at her with confusion.
"You think you want me Hopper. You like the idea because you can't have me. But you don't actually want me. Not like that ."
"I-" he stutters, "I'll prove that that's not true."
"How?" she whispers. She knows what she's asking of him is impossible but her guard is up and she needs him to help her tear it down.
"What if Chrissy and I were to break up? Would that fix things between us? Then will you believe me when I tell you that I care about you and that I don't want to forget about what happened in the garden."
"Leaving her won't fix anything!" she yells in his face. With a sad sigh, she looks up at him with tear-filled eyes and continues in a lower, calmer voice, "I don't even know who you are anymore Hop. You bail on our plans, you care about what other people think…"
"I'm still me Joyce. Can't you see how I feel about you?"
She needs him to say it, to break down the wall she'd so delicately built by telling her she mattered to him, but he stands, inches from her face with his mouth hung open, unable to tell her what she needs to hear.
He wants to, desperately. But something prevents him from telling her his feelings for her are far from platonic. He's afraid. Afraid she won't feel the same way, though he's almost certain she does. Afraid that things will change between them and worst of all, he's scared to screw up and lose her.
"I know that you know. You know me, Joyce. You know me." His eyes are pleading, but ever the stubborn one, Joyce pushes against his chest and frees herself from the man-made compound between him and the wall, and she begins her walk home, leaving a stunned and confused Hopper alone with his unsaid feelings.
This is a big world, that was a small town
There in my rear-view mirror disappearing now
Now it's too late for you and your white horse
To catch me now
