It was a bright and sunny Wednesday, the air warm with the promise of summer. Despite that, Christine had already hit the snooze button on her alarm twice. She was exhausted, dead to the world as her alarm went off for the third time that morning. This time, she didn't even turn it off.

The knock on the door didn't wake her up, nor did her father calling into her room. When he didn't get a response, he let himself in and silenced the clock. He was a little less than gentle as he shook Christine's shoulder to drag her into consciousness.

"Come on, bumblebee. Enough's enough."

"Mhn?" Christine batted his hands away, deciding it was too difficult to open her eyes. "Dad, stop—m'tired—"

"Yeah, clearly, since you're sleeping through this rock concert."

Christine scrunched her nose in confusion. She knew she was tired, but she was pretty sure that her dad had said "concert." She was also pretty sure she was still lying in her own bed in the middle of Hawkins.

"Dad, what are you talking—"

"Your boyfriend is making a scene."

"He's not my boyfriend," she replied automatically.

Laboriously, Christine pushed herself up onto her elbows, blowing the hair out of her face as she tried to get her bearings. Now that her dad had pointed it out, she could hear the dull hum of music from outside—quiet enough from indoors, but probably blasting in the street. She frowned as her brain booted up, trying to reconcile the strange sounds and sentences.

Then she sat bolt upright in her bed.

"It's May first."

"It's May first," her father confirmed. "Now, will you please go outside before Old Lady O'Connor calls the cops? I don't think you want Hopper getting involved."

Christine sprang out of bed, stumbling across the floor in her haste for the door, then doubling back for a pair of sweatpants. She tried to pull them on with one hand while the other combed through her hair, but it didn't save her any time. She wobbled and flopped back on the bed as her fingers got caught in a large knot.

"Jesus," her father sighed in exasperation, "okay, let's—"

He jumped in to help, handing over her hairbrush and then jogging to the bathroom. Christine ripped the brush through her hair and rubbed frantically at her face to wake herself up and wipe the sleep from her eyes. She didn't bother tying her laces as she slipped into her Converse and ran out into the hall, where she snatched the mouthwash from her dad's hands. She swished some in her mouth as she ran, darted into the kitchen to spit in the sink, then burst through the front door onto the lawn.

"Rock concert" was right. She could barely think with the blinding light and loud music—not that her brain was functioning at full capacity anyway. She vaguely registered REO Speedwagon as she took in her surroundings: the sunny day, the warm air, the red BMW parked on the curb, and the honest-to-god speaker sitting on the grass.

"Steve!" she hissed, which did absolutely nothing.

Christine flew down the driveway, arms wound tightly over her chest in her tank top. She snapped Steve's name again, something he happily ignored as he sang along to his music. He looked completely at ease as he leaned back against his car, hands in the pockets of his jeans, black Wayfarers perched on his nose.

"And I can't fight this feeeeling anymore," he crooned. "I've forgotten what I started fighting fooor—"

"Steve!"

Christine darted around the car and yanked on the driver's door, but it was locked. She ran around to the open passenger door, but Steve caught her around the middle before she made it inside.

"What, no good morning?"

"Steve, what are you doing?!" she hissed at him. "You're gonna wake up the whole block!"

"Eh, it's after eight. They're already up."

"Which means they can pick up the phone and call the police!"

When she tried for the passenger door again, Steve caught her wrists and pulled them to his chest, trapping them against the soft T-shirt he was wearing under his open button-down.

"Relax," he told her with a smirk, "I've just got a few questions first."

"Okay, well, I'll answer them after you turn it off!"

"I'll turn it off after you answer them."

Christine glowered at him, but Steve's smirk didn't budge. She bit down on the inside of her cheeks and huffed. "Fine, just—what?"

"Did I pass the boyfriend test?" he asked.

"Well, you're definitely losing points for this."

Steve looked at her over the top of his sunglasses. "How many? Is this affecting my grade?"

"Since when do you care about grades?"

"Excuse me, I'm very serious about my grades. My girlfriend says they're super important."

He pouted at her and Christine laughed before she could stop herself. She clamped her lips together to hold in any more sound, well aware that her cheeks were turning pink.

"So," he prompted again. "Do I pass?"

"Yes," she sighed dramatically. "Yes, Steve, you pass."

"Excellent. You free for dinner?"

"Yes."

"Can I pick you up at six?"

"Yes. Is that all?"

"Nope," Steve said brightly. "Will you come to prom with me?"

Christine did a double take. "W-what?"

"Prom," he repeated. "It's like a fancy dance that we have at the high school—"

"Oh, shut up. I know what prom is."

"Okay well, I want you to be my date to prom."

"Steve, I just said—"

"I mean, I don't want to assume anything," he continued as if she hadn't interrupted, "but people would definitely talk. It'd be a little weird if my girlfriend didn't come to prom with me. Of course, that doesn't—"

"Yes," Christine cut him off. She looked hurriedly up and down the street, where a few of her neighbors had ventured onto their lawns. "Yes, I'll go to prom with you, idiot. Anything else?"

"Just one more," Steve said with a smile. "Can I kiss you?"

"As soon as you turn off the music."

"Why? You love REO."

Christine's eyes narrowed into slits. Steve grinned, swiftly kissed her on the cheek, then ducked into the car to turn off the stereo. The moment he was upright, he spun Christine so her back was against the car. Before he could do anything else, Christine had grabbed him by the collar and pulled his lips to hers.

It wasn't like they hadn't kissed recently—over the last four and a half months, her restraint had worn down an embarrassing amount—but it was still a sweet relief to kiss him openly. His tongue swept across her lower lip and Christine gladly deepened the kiss, her arms sliding around his neck. Steve grabbed her hips, his thumbs brushing the skin above her sweatpants and sending a thrill though her stomach. Before she could retaliate, the new silence was broken by a cheer and frantic applause.

Christine wasn't entirely surprised to find Claudia standing on her front porch, practically bouncing with glee. Dustin ran out after her, his angry voice carrying across the lawn as he tried to drag his mother back inside. Christine couldn't help but giggle through her embarrassment.

Looking over at the Henderson house, something else caught her attention. A bright orange extension cord was running out the front door, across the lawn, over Christine's driveway, and right up to Steve's car. She stared down at the speaker on the grass, big enough to meet her knee. Another wire stretched from the speaker into the car, where—instead of the dashboard stereo—it was connected to a large boombox.

Christine looked back at the speaker and raised an eyebrow. "Is that from your living room?"

"Yeah," Steve admitted sheepishly, "maybe a little overkill. It's okay though. My parents are out, so they'll never know."

"How did you get it here?"

"I might've gotten a little help from Henderson this morning."

"You dealt with Dustin before seven-thirty AM?" Christine giggled. "Wow, you really committed to this."

"Well, that's not the only thing I wanted to commit to." He smirked and gave her another short kiss. "Want a lift to school?"

"Give me fifteen minutes to get dressed," she agreed. "Which gives you fifteen minutes to get this off my lawn."

She ignored his groan and gave him another peck, then scurried back to the house, where her dad was leaning in the doorway and watching her with a sly smile. Christine flushed and swatted his arm as she passed.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything!"

Christine was walking on air as she got ready, her drowsiness long forgotten. The truth was that she'd stayed up well past midnight waiting for Steve to show up outside her window. Not that he'd told her he was coming; it just seemed like the kind of silly, romantic thing he'd do. She'd been disappointed when she finally drifted off to sleep, but this…this made up for it.

She couldn't resist the urge to dress up just a little bit for the occasion. It wasn't anything major: a pair of high-waisted shorts with a pink belt and a white V-neck she'd recently purchased. A few months ago, she wouldn't have been brave enough to buy it, but Steve had wholeheartedly assured her that he liked her forest green V-neck. A lot.

She pulled her hair up with a pink scrunchie to match her belt, laced up her Converse, and shrugged on her loyal denim jacket. Just before she walked out, she made the snap decision to add pink lip gloss too…but that was as far as she was willing to push herself.

"Bye Dad," she called, darting into the kitchen to give him a quick hug. "I gotta go, but make sure you're not late to—"

"Hold on, hold on." Her father took her by the shoulders, making her take a step back and holding her at arm's length. "Just wait a second. I wanna look at you."

"Dad…"

"Just let me be a sap for a second, okay?" He forced her to stand still, his eyes taking her in from head to toe, even as she squirmed in embarrassment. "You're just…growing up too fast, Chrissy. But I'm proud of you, and I really am happy for you."

"Thanks," she said meekly.

He grinned and planted a kiss on the crown of her head. "Alright. Give 'em hell, bumblebee."

Steve was waiting for her outside, standing in exactly the same place, sans speaker.

"You ready to rock and roll?" he asked, grabbing her backpack from her and stowing it in the backseat.

"Almost. Can I ask a little favor?"

"Yeah, anything."

Christine grabbed him by the hand, towing him down the street and up the Hendersons' driveway. She barely had to knock before the front door was yanked open. Claudia looked like she was on the verge of tears.

"Hi! Oh my goodness! Congratulations! You—you two are just so cute!" she squealed. "Steve, that was just—it was beautiful. Oh, and so romantic! It was like watching a movie!"

"Thanks, Mrs. Henderson," Steve chuckled, only for her to scoff.

"Oh, don't start with that. Claudia."

"Claudia," Christine said with an indulgent smile. "Is Dustin ready for school?"

"Is he…? Oh!" Claudia clapped a hand to her cheek, tears threatening to spill over. "You are just the sweetest thing, Chrissy. He's—hold on. Dusty! You're gonna be late for school!"

"No, I'm not!" came his annoyed reply, shouted down the hallway. "Seriously, Mom, I've got plenty of time to…"

Dustin trailed off as he came around the corner. He stopped short, looking between Steve and Christine and wrinkling his nose in confusion.

"Why are you here…?"

"We always ride to school together," Christine said, as if it were obvious. "Now are you coming or what?"

Dustin stared at her for several seconds before breaking into a smile. "Yeah, okay. Just let me grab my stuff."

With that, he sprinted back down the hall to his bedroom.

A few minutes later, they said their goodbyes to Claudia—who was still misty-eyed—and headed for the Beemer. Dustin made a beeline for the passenger door, speeding ahead of Christine.

"Shotgun!"

"Not a chance," said Steve. "Back seat, Henderson."

Dustin rolled his eyes, but did as he was told. Still, it didn't stop him from pretending to hurl when Steve opened the door for Christine with a bow. Steve flipped him off and jogged around to the driver's side.

"Okay then," he said, settling into his seat. "Just let me take care of this—"

He pulled a cassette out of his pocket and slipped it into the stereo, fiddling with the dials into the speakers hummed to life. It must've been the same tape he'd had in the boombox, because Christine instantly recognized REO Speedwagon again.

"I can't fight this feeling any longer
And yet, I'm still afraid to let it flow
What started out as friendship has grown stronger
I only wish I had the strength to let it show…"

Dustin gagged loudly, but Christine could only smirk at Steve. "Seriously?"

"What?" he asked innocently. "It's a good song."

He winked at her over the top of his Wayfarers, then kicked the car into gear and pulled out into the street.

Thankfully, the cassette turned out to be a mixtape. The next song was Queen, the one after that Pat Benatar; Christine was grateful. She liked REO Speedwagon just fine, but she had a feeling that a few more of their songs would convince Dustin to tuck and roll out of the moving car. He practically did when they finally pulled into the high school parking lot.

"Thanks for the ride!" he called, sliding out his seat as fast as physically possible. "Congratulations! You're both disgusting!"

"Hey, wait!" Steve shouted through his window. "Yo, dickhead! Am I driving you home?!"

"Nope! AV club! Bye!"

Steve grumbled something about ungratefulness, making Christine laugh as she climbed out of the car. She grabbed her bag from the backseat and leaned back against the door as Steve came around to meet her.

"God, he can be such a little shit," Steve complained. "Why did we bring him, again?"

"I didn't want him to bike alone. He doesn't like change, and this—" she motioned between them "—is a pretty big change. I just don't want him to feel like I'm ditching him just because you're…"

"Your boyfriend?" Steve finished with a cocky smile. He grabbed her waist before she could shy away from him. "Hey, come on now. Because I'm your boyfriend and you are my…?"

"Girlfriend," she sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Wow, don't get too excited." Steve laughed as she jabbed him in the ribs. He grabbed his things and locked the BMW, but when he turned back to her, he looked a little less confident. "So, uh…how do you want to do this? Not that we have to do anything. Just because we decided we're officially—it doesn't mean anyone else—"

Christine cut him off by grabbing his hand. She intertwined their fingers, took a deep breath and, together, they headed into the building.

Over the last few months, Christine had learned to ignore the stares from her classmates. First, it had been because she was friends with Steve and they were close. Then it was because she was friends with Steve and they were too close. Christine didn't exactly stay plugged into the rumor mill, but she'd heard a few suspicious whispers. Even before Steve had broken up with Nancy, there were people who were sure he was sleeping with Christine on the side. No guy spent that much time with his friends while he was in a relationship—not when his best friend was a girl.

Since the breakup, people had only gotten nosier. Christine and Steve seemed to be together all the time. Steve had started hanging out with the middle schoolers that Christine babysat. Then, of course, there were the rumors Nicole was starting to keep the gossip interesting—some of which were true, some of which were total horseshit. There'd been the fight with Billy, where Steve got his ass handed to him for trying to defend Christine's honor: true. Christine had rewritten Steve's admissions essay for him and submitted his college application: half-true, but even her editing hadn't been that extensive. Steve had lost a basketball game on purpose to punish Tommy for all the shit he'd given Christine over the years: not true. Christine was dropping out of school to follow Steve to college: definitely not true. Even though they weren't "going steady" yet, Steve had already bought Christine a gold bracelet with his initials: not true…technically. Steve had gotten her a charm bracelet for her birthday and it did have an S on it, but it also had an atom, a bucket of popcorn, a baseball bat, a baseball cap, and the number eleven, so…it was less of a them gift and more of a party gift. And it certainly wasn't real gold.

The bracelet jingled on Christine's wrist as she and Steve walked down the hall. They were definitely getting some looks, but it wasn't as bad as Christine had feared. She'd had nightmares where the whole student body lined up in the hallway, whispering and staring at her as she hopelessly tried to locate her locker. The reality was a few raised eyebrows from a handful of select groups. Christine saw Elaine Dunbar nudge Chrissy Cunningham and nod in their direction, then quickly turn to pass the news to the rest of the cheerleading squad. Kate Capetta was arm-in-arm with her boyfriend from the debate team, her eyebrows completely hidden under her thick bangs. Eddie Munson was hunched over on the floor in front of his locker, tongue poking out between his teeth in concentration as he frantically scribbled some last-minute answers on a worksheet. When Steve and Christine walked past, he did a double take, the tip of his tongue still hanging out.

It wasn't as bad as Christine had feared—but it was still enough attention to make her nervous.

Steve walked her all the way to her locker, his firm grip on her hand keeping her from completely losing it. She was reluctant to let go, even just to put in her combination and retrieve her things. Then the door was closed and she was standing in front of Steve with no idea what to say; so he took the lead.

"Hey," he said softly, taking her hand again. "Relax, okay? Just because we're dating doesn't change anything. I don't expect you to jump headlong into the whole PDA thing."

"I know. Yeah, I know."

Christine nodded to herself and looked around again. People were already starting to get bored, going back to their own conversations. Down the hall, though, she spotted Nicole, Tina, and Carol huddled in a group, watching them with sharp eyes.

"No," Christine said suddenly. "I want them to know."

Before she could back out, she pulled her hand out of Steve's grip and grabbed him by the back of the neck. The kiss caught him off guard, but Steve was quick to recover and slip his lips eagerly over hers. He tugged her forward by the front of her belt, making her squeal in surprise as she smashed into his chest, then dissolve into giggles.

They pulled apart when laughing made it too hard to keep kissing. Christine was sure her cheeks were already flushed, but seeing Steve's lips—shiny and pink from her lip gloss—certainly didn't help matters. She pointedly ignored the feeling in the pit of her stomach, reaching up to wipe some of the residue from Steve's face. He promptly licked his lips, and Christine had to restrain herself from making a very undignified noise.

Relatively lip gloss-free, Steve leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. "See you in study hall?"

"I'll be there," Christine managed to reply.

He winked at her over his sunglasses, pushed them up his nose, and headed off for his own locker. There was a buoyant pep in his step that made Christine grin with pride. Pulling herself together, she turned to walk in the opposite direction—right past Carol and her friends.

"Hey, Nicole," Christine said pleasantly.

Nicole was shaking her head in disbelief, but gave her a grudging smile. "Hey, Chrissy."

Carol was glaring, Tina's jaw hanging in shock. Satisfied by their reaction, Christine marched off toward home room, feeling on top of the world. What did it matter if the rumor mill kept spinning lies? If the girls in the hall whispered and judged her? She was Steve Harrington's girlfriend. Girlfriend. As far as she was concerned, that was the only thing that mattered.

"Someone's in a good mood," Nancy laughed as Christine took her seat. "I guess Steve popped the question?"

"Ugh, don't say it like that," said Christine, wrinkling her nose briefly before her smile bubbled up again. "But…yes, he did."

"And…?"

"And it was perfect. I mean, he was in front of my house with a boombox blasting 'I Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore.' God, it—it was so loud, and obnoxious and over the top and…I loved it."

She was already sick of her own lovesick giggling, but Nancy watched her with a wide smile.

"That's incredible, Chrissy. Seriously, I'm so happy you guys worked things out. It took you long enough," she added teasingly. "Now we can go on a real, official double date."

"Absolutely not. I'm not going anywhere with Jonathan. Gag me with a spoon."

"Christine!"

"I'm sorry!" she continued hurriedly, under Nancy's glare. "I'm sorry. I know he's your boyfriend and I have to play nice, but double dating is off the table. Our group dynamic is way too messy—best friends, exes, frenemies—"

"You and Jonathan are not frenemies. You get along loads better than you used to."

"You know, you say that every month, and I don't like him a single bit more."

Nancy rolled her eyes with the ghost of a smile. She knew Christine was lying, and Christine knew it too. The fact was that Jonathan was much more tolerable than he used to be, whether that was because he was changing or Christine was—both, probably. What wouldn't change was her steadfast refusal that they hated each other. She'd rather look Hopper in the eye and tell him he was like a father to her than admit that, sometimes, she enjoyed hanging out with Jonathan Byers.

"I thought this was supposed to be a fresh start for you," Nancy continued haughtily. "New month, new boyfriend, new job…"

Christine did a double take. "Wait, what?"

"New job?" Nancy frowned at her. "You said you start at the precinct tonight, right? Helping set up the computer system as a sort of interview?"

"No… No, that's Wednesday. Today's May first."

"Yeah, Chrissy. Wednesday, May first."

Christine's mouth opened and closed without a response. She squeezed her eyes shut, struggling to do very basic math in her head, then slumped down in her seat.

"Oh no, no, no, no, no…"

"Christine," Nancy said in disbelief, "please tell me you did not forget about your job interview."

"I didn't! I didn't forget about my job interview, I just…forgot the days of the week, fuck!" She fell forward and buried her face in the desk, banging her forehead with each word. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! I told Steve we could go out for dinner. What am I gonna do?"

"Well, I hope you figure it out. Otherwise your day's gonna be pretty messy."

Nancy smirked at her as the bell rang and Christine suppressed a groan. She deserved that one, but it certainly didn't help the hollow feeling in her stomach.

How she'd managed to screw up was a complete mystery. Hopper had come over to watch TV with her dad on Monday night, a routine they kept up even outside of football season. His offer of a summer job hadn't blindsided her—he'd been dropping hints for months about how no one at the precinct knew enough about technology to use a computer—but that hadn't stopped her from jumping at his offer. He was willing to pay her twice as much money as The Hawk, three days a week, and all she had to do was digitize files in the computer. With that money, her savings, plus her wages from the movie theater, she'd be able to save up for a car in a few months.

So when Hopper had asked her to come in Wednesday night, she'd said yes without even thinking. Not once in the last 36 hours had it occurred to her that Wednesday was the first of May. She'd been waiting for months, literal months, and somehow everything with Steve had completely slipped her mind.

Apparently, she wanted a car more than a boyfriend.

Christine's morning classes were totally lost on her—not that she'd expected to be productive anyway. She'd fully intended to spend the morning daydreaming about her first, real, official date and what Steve might have planned. Instead, she spent several hours rehearsing excuses in her head, trying to figure out how the hell she was supposed to explain herself to Steve.

For the first time all year, she was actually dreading fourth period study hall. She dragged her feet in the hall, trying to buy herself time before she had to enter the library…but Steve had other plans.

He was already waiting for her in the hall and bounded over with a grin the moment he saw her. His arm hooked around her waist and tugged her into his chest, and Christine's giggle fought its way through the knots in her throat as they spun on the spot.

"Hey there, cutie," he said, kissing her on the cheek and leaving a crimson flush in his wake.

"Steve, stop. People are—"

"Very much aware we're dating. You realize how fast word travels in this place? Besides, it didn't stop you this morning…"

He leaned down to nudge her nose and, despite his smug smile, Christine couldn't resist the urge to give him another short kiss. Thankfully, most of her excess makeup had already worn off; she wouldn't be able to concentrate with Steve's lips coated in her lip gloss.

"Uh, Steve—I need—"

It was no use. Steve had already laced their hands together, eagerly pulling her into the library before she could remember the words she'd been trying to say.

All Christine's confidence from the morning was gone. She could feel the eyes of her classmates following her across the room, watching as she and Steve headed to their usual table, judging as he chivalrously pulled out her chair. Rather than sitting across from her, he plopped down in the seat next to her and stretched his arm around her; then he was watching her too. Desperate for something to do, Christine focused on her backpack, pulling out the books and binders she'd need, along with several she didn't. Even after she'd spent an absurd amount of time setting up, Steve was still sitting there smiling at her.

"What?" she asked him suspiciously.

"Nothing."

"O-kay. Are you gonna study?"

"Study? God, no," he scoffed. "I've only got a month and a half left here. I'm not studying shit. No, I just thought I'd—you know—sit back and watch the genius at work."

Christine rolled her eyes, her annoyance undercut by her faint blush. Her instinct was to bury herself in her work, but she knew she wouldn't be able to concentrate. Steve's thumb was gently rubbing her shoulder, his knee pressed against hers under the table. His presence was impossible to ignore, which meant that her anxiety was impossible to ignore, which meant that it would be impossible for her to function until she fessed up to her mistake.

She gulped and took a deep breath.

"Speaking of work," she said softly, shifting to face him, "we need to talk about tonight."

"Sure," he replied, instantly perking up. "Where do you wanna go? We could drive out to Rockets if you want, or—or if that's too weird we can find someplace else. I wanted to get out of town for a while, because I know you guys eat take out so much, so you're probably sick of everything around here. There's a—wait, what does this have to do with work?"

Christine grimaced, wringing her hands. "So, remember how I said Hopper wanted me to work down at the station?"

"Yeah, the computer thing. Why?"

"Well, the…computer thing is coming today and…I kind of told Hopper I'd come in and help. It's like a tryout, to prove I can do the job."

"Oh." Steve's eyebrows pulled together. He didn't look upset yet, just confused. "So…you want to eat later? Like seven?"

"I…I don't know if I can. I've never set up a computer before and—I mean, technology is supposed to make everything easier, but it's also really complicated, so I don't know how long it's gonna take."

"Oh. Right."

His face fell, his hand falling from her shoulder in defeat. It was a miracle Christine's guilt didn't make her vomit on the spot.

"Steve, I'm so sorry," she pleaded as she grabbed his other hand. "This is—it's my fault and I'm so sorry. I just—I didn't think I was starting until the summer, so when Hopper told me the system was coming early, I got really excited because I've been doing so much reading to prepare—all the manuals and learning BASIC and it's just so cool because—"

"Because you're a giant nerd."

The disappointment was still clear on his face, but he gave her a fond smile. Christine's stomach flopped, and she squeezed his hand tighter.

"Yeah, well, this nerd can be incredibly stupid sometimes."

"Hey—no." Steve's free hand came back to her shoulder, tugging her closer to him. "Don't say shit like that. It's your job, I get it. It's important."

"This is important," Christine insisted. "We made these plans ages ago and I screwed up."

"Stop, Chris. You didn't screw up. You—you fumbled at best, and I do that literally all the time. There's only room for one idiot here, and I'm not letting anyone call my girlfriend stupid."

He'd already said the word half a dozen times, but it still kicked up butterflies in Christine's stomach. She pressed her lips into a thin line and looked up at him with eyes full of uncertainty.

"Even though I'm cancelling our first date?"

"Please," he scoffed. "I waited four and a half months for this. I can wait another day—but, it's my turn to make the conditions."

"Absolutely." Christine forced her face into a more serious expression. "Name your terms."

Steve sighed loudly, tapping his chin in thought. Christine knew it was partially for the dramatics, but she was keenly aware how well he could manipulate a situation to his advantage.

"First off," he began, "I'm driving you to work."

"Okay," Christine agreed with a shrug. "I guess Hopper can drop me off at home."

"Nope. I'm driving you home too."

"Steve, I have no idea how long I'm supposed to be there. What are you gonna do? Sit in the parking lot for eight hours?"

"If I have to." He mimicked her with an exaggerated shrug. "It's just in case, you know? If it's a short shift, then we can still grab dinner. If it's long, we can grab ice cream. And if they try to keep you overnight, I grab the bat from my trunk."

Christine snorted indelicately. "You are so not winning that fight."

"Well, I guess it's a good thing my girlfriend works for the police."

"Uh, no. Correction: I will be working on a computer that happens to be at the police station. I won't be able to do shit when Hopper arrests your ass for loitering."

Steve pinched her side in retaliation, making her squeal, and earning them another round of curious and dirty looks. Christine elbowed him in the ribs and Steve tried to smother his laughter.

"Okay, okay—I'm driving you there, I'm driving you back, and…well, obviously you owe me dinner."

"Obviously."

"So we'll move dinner to Saturday and have the make-up dinner Sunday. Maybe we can check out the mall?"

Christine grinned again, which was starting to make her cheeks ache. "That sounds perfect."

"Perfect." Steve winked at her, then added, "And I'm gonna need a kiss now."

"Steve, we're in the libr—"

"I'm sorry, but you kinda hurt my feelings. I've been trying to prove myself to you for four months and now you're cancelling on me? Kinda seems like you're the one who should prove she's serious."

"Oh my God, just shut up."

Christine grabbed him by the collar and pulled him forward into a kiss. She could feel his grin of victory against her mouth. Determined, she lightly swept her tongue over his lower lip, which wiped all the smugness from Steve's face. The arm around her shoulder pulled her even closer so he could—

"Ahem."

Steve and Christine sprang apart. The librarian was standing behind then, arms folded across her chest, glaring down her nose at them through her spectacles. Christine felt her face go bright red and Steve scratched anxiously at the back of his head.

"Sorry," he said in a stage whisper. "I'm—we're—gonna work now…"

It didn't look like she believed him, but she did walk away, shaking her head and grumbling under her breath. Christine buried herself in her work to avoid the lingering stares of the other students; even Steve took out some homework to keep himself busy. He left his hand on Christine's knee under the table for the entire period and—while it was immensely distracting—Christine couldn't say she didn't enjoy it.