Sixteen Candles
Chapter Eight

Author's Note: Oh, Man. I'm so sorry for the delay in between this chapter and the last. A couple weekends ago, I was sick, and I was seriously too tired to function. And this previous weekend, I spent it with a relative.

On a serious note though, I'm losing motivation for this story. I have absolutely no desire to discontinue it, but I'm losing inspiration. I feel like people aren't enjoy it, and I feel like this story is just here and taking up space, lol. Please, if you like this story, would you leave me a review? I will really appreciate it, and it'll really make my day. Whether you realize it or not, a simple "that was awesome. update soon" helps A LOT. :)


"I parked my truck in that parkin' lot down the road," Steve shares, holding his notebook firmly under his arm. "Ain't your folks home?" I grab the sleeve of his shirt, shaking my head.

"No, they're not," I answer, yanking him inside my house. "But my whole family is going to be home soon, so we're going to my room." Steve steps past me silently, but I don't doubt that a vulgar comment is brewing inside his head.

He looks around my house, and honestly, I feel bad. Our front room is decorated with a bunch of useless items, and I almost feel like it's rubbing our amount of wealth - which is nothing compared to the West side - in his face.

I sigh, running my hand through my hair. "I'm sorry." Steve merely shrugs, knowing exactly what I'm talking about.

"It ain't your fault."

XxXxXxX

I take a seat on my bed, shaking my head slightly at how Steve is hogging the whole mattress. "So, why me?" He inquires, moving his left arm behind his head. I lean against my other pillow, pulling my homework onto my lap.

"What do you mean?"

"You asked for my help with this homework when there's a shit ton of smarter kids in the class." I bend my knees, shrugging my shoulders in response.

"I don't know," I answer. "You called me, and I'm not friends with anyone else in our class," I take another look at my homework, automatically growing frustrated with it again. I scoot down my bed, allowing my eyes the opportunity to stare at the ceiling. "I hate school." I sigh, absentmindedly throwing my notebook and pencil onto the ground. Steve snorts, throwing his arm around me.

"You and me both," he shares. I sigh again, rolling onto my stomach. "I'm ready to be outta that hellhole." Steve continues, wrapping his arm around my waist.

"Two more years, Steve, and then high school will be nothing more than a memory." I grin, laying my head on his chest. He groans, running his hand slowly around my back.

"It can't go by fast 'nough." Silently, I start to trace scribbles on his chest, letting his comment sink in.

Two more years until I'm on my own.

We continue to lay together in silence. My mind wanders from anything to if Steve is enjoying this much as I am or to when someone is going to be home. Are we going to get caught?

Our front door squeaks open; seconds later, my father's deep voice echoes through the whole house. "Eileen, are you home?" I pull away from Steve quickly.

"You have to hide, Steve, and fast," His enlarged eyes dart around my room, desperately searching for a hiding place. "Switch me places and hide beside my bed." I command, climbing over him. He silently obeys before flopping onto the floor. "You moron!" I cry. "Not so loud!"

My bedroom door swings open before Dad peeks his head inside. Although he wears a smile on his face, he also looks a little confused. "Honey, who were you talking to?"

I can feel my blood run cold, and it takes me everything I have to remain calm. I've never been good at lying, and my parents have always seen through my excuses. "I, um, well," I stumble over my words, and the added pressure of Dad staring me down, waiting for an answer, doesn't help my case. "I was talking to myself, Dad." I sigh, knowing there's absolutely no way he'll buy it.

Dad stares at me blankly, debating on if he should call me out on the BS excuse I gave him or not. Slowly, he changes positions. Dad purses his lips, leaning against the doorframe. "If you insist, Biscuit Butt." He says hesitantly, backing out the doorway.

Once the door is latched, Steve starts to laugh - hard. I grab a pillow, throwing it as hard as I can at him. "It's not funny!" Still laughing, he starts to sit up.

"I ain't too sure if I wanna hear how you got that nickname or not."

"I'm not telling you anyway," I growl, hitting him again. "Stop laughing! You weren't suppose to hear that."

"You wanted me to come over earlier."

"Now, I want you to leave," I scowl, crossing my arms. "And I'm not even going to attempt to sneak you out through the front door. Have fun leaving through the window."

"It ain't like it's gonna be hard," Steve rolls his eyes, opening the window. He easily hoists himself up and through the window, leading me to believe he's a professional at sneaking out. Once Steve's feet hit the ground, he turns around. His forever present, annoying smirk is plastered on his face. "See ya tomorrow, Biscuit Butt." He teases. I bite my tongue hard, flipping him the bird. Steve starts to laugh again before strolling off to his truck.

I repeat to myself that I hate him, but even I fail to believe that lie.

XxXxXxX

Mr Anderson stands in front of my desk, staring down at me, silently letting me know he's disappointed that I didn't do my homework.

Personally, I still blame Steve.

My grade cries tears of joy when I realize Steve isn't showing up to second period, and although I'm a little happy, I can't deny that I'm more upset. Sure, there's no doubt that he's going to be picking on me more since he's aware of my embarrassing nickname, but if I'm being completely honest with myself, I have to admit that I enjoy his teasing.

I enjoy the attention he gives me.

Sadly for me, chemistry progresses forward in the same exact fashion that algebra did.

No sign of Steve and mixed emotions.

XxXxXxX

"Where's ol' Steve-O at, Miss Eileen?" Two-Bit asks, stuffing his face with hamburger. I shrug my shoulders, failing to meet his eyes.

"I bet he's lovesick." Soda grins, looking towards the Mickey Mouse clad teen.

Each of them continue exchanging reputation harming comments about Steve with each other and the whole table, making it incredibly awkward for me; I feel like I'm going to suffocate.

Although she said she doesn't mind, I still can't help but feel like a bad friend to Evie. Steve and I have something more than a friendship going on, and it feels like I'm stabbing her in the back somehow.

I hate the feeling.

XxXxXxX

Soda looks absolutely petrified. Two-Bit looks angry. Sandy looks nauseous. Evie doesn't pay attention. Dallas and Sylvia appear unfazed. "What the hell happened to ya?" Soda inquires. Slowly, I turn around. Steve is advancing towards our table at an alarming speed, and he looks irate.

He storms over to me, yanking the free seat away from the table before plopping down. "What the heck happened to you, Steve?" Sandy asks sweetly, hopping to get an answer out of him. He merely shakes his head.

"It ain't nothin' I can't handle." He growls, laying his left arm across the back of my chair. Soda watches his friend, internally debating with himself over whether he should continue to prod for information or not.

With a heavy sigh, he settles back in his seat, continuing with his lunch.

After lunch, Steve walks me back to my fourth period. Biting my lip hard, I decide to press my luck, wondering if I can get any answers out of him. "Will you tell me what happened to you?" I ask, looking up at him. His mood turns bitter again, and I fear he'll snap at me. Instead, he shakes his head.

"It's nothin', Eileen," he says through gritted teeth.

"It's nothing, Steve?" I press. He nods his head. "If it's nothing, then why is your face all bruised? Why is there dried blood on your forehead?" Steve grabs my upper arm, pulling me off to the side.

"You wanna know what happened?" He asks angrily. Weakly, I nod my head. "I'll tell you. You ready? It was them fucking soc. They thought it'd be funny to jump me on my way inta school today. It was six on one. That's real fucking fair. Course they beat the shit outta me. If it woulda been two or three, I coulda handle 'em, but no. Them assholes thought six on one would be real fucking fair." He rolls his eyes, exhaling dramatically. Steve drops my arm, and although he wasn't yelling at me directly, I can't help but feel the urge to cry. "I'll see you in sixth period." He grumbles. Steve turns sharply before storming off down the hall.

With a heavy sigh, I wipe the tears from my eyes before heading back to civics alone.

XxXxXxX

Jacquelyn pleads with me for several moments after school to join her for the student government meeting, claiming she doesn't want to walk home alone. I feel bad; normally, I would've agreed to stay with her for something like this, but after the events that happened today, I'm ready to go home, and call it a day.

Soda had told me, earlier in civics, not to worry about it; he said that Steve was having a terrible day and had tendencies to take it out on anyone he can – whether they're male or female.

I didn't have the heart to tell him that it'll take a lot more than that to get over the pain I'm feeling from suffering through Steve's wrath.

Then, in study hall, Steve barely acknowledged me. I wouldn't admit it aloud, but that hurt more than when he furiously screamed his story to me after lunch.

Beside me, a familiar beat-up truck slows down; a quick honk of a horn successfully catches my attention. Beside me, Steve is staring at me – occasionally, his eyes flicker towards the road in front of him. "Get in the truck," he commands. "I wanna talk to you." After experiencing what I did today, I comply easily, not wanting to revisit his previous mood.

Plus, his bruised up face makes him look way more intimidating. I start for the passenger's side, and when Steve catches that I'm obeying, he stops.

"You ain't mad 'bout earlier, are ya?" He asks, speeding up. Buckling my seatbelt, I shake my head silently.

"No," I sigh. "I don't blame you for being that upset, I guess, but you really scared me. I thought you were mad at me from the way you were yelling at me."

"We still on for Saturday?" I nod my head, biting my lip, resisting the growing smile. Instantly, any hurt he caused me earlier is lifted, and my heart starts to race. I feel myself falling a little harder for him.

"Yeah," I answer, allowing the smile to slip through. "Hey, Steve?" His eyebrows raise, letting me know that he's listening. "Can you give me a ride home too?"

"How 'bout we go to The Dingo instead. I'm starvin'."


Eileen and Steve's relationship is starting, and to be honest, I'm unsure of how I feel about the way Steve tells Eileen the story about the soc. I'm afraid he was too harsh, but hey, he was mad, and no one wants to mess with Steve Randle when he's fired up. Right?

I hope you guys liked this chapter, and please don't hesitate with leaving me feedback. I will really appreciate it, and your feedback makes my day! Plus, I'm in desperate need of motivation, and I can assure you that your reviews inspire me to continue writing. :)