February 16, 1985
The college fair was buzzing with excitement as students milled around the various booths, collecting brochures and chatting with representatives. The air was filled with a sense of possibility, of new beginnings and future plans, but for Steve, it all felt distant—like something he was watching from the outside.
Dove walked beside him, her eyes scanning the rows of tables with a mix of curiosity and determination. She was excited, and Steve could see it in the way she moved, the way she stopped at certain booths, asking thoughtful questions about programs and opportunities. He followed her closely, though his mind wasn't on college anymore.
"Come on, let's check this one out," Dove said, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward a booth with a large banner that readStarcourt Mall: Shaping the Future of Hawkins!
They stopped in front of the booth, where a well-dressed representative was handing out pamphlets. The man looked up as they approached, his eyes lighting up when he saw Dove.
"Good afternoon!" he greeted them with a warm smile. "Are you two students here in Hawkins? Looking for some future opportunities, I take it?"
"Yeah, we're just looking around," Dove said, returning the smile. "This is all really impressive. Starcourt is going to change the whole town."
"That's the plan," the man said proudly, leaning forward. "We're not just building a mall, we're bringing in new businesses, job opportunities, and even some high-profile offices. In fact, we're opening a new law firm right inside the mall. They're looking for bright, young talent to help with everything from filing cases to working on community outreach. Are you interested in law?"
Dove's eyes lit up at the mention of the law firm. "It's definitely something I've been considering."
The man's smile widened. "Well, we need people like you. Driven, passionate, and community-oriented. In fact, I think you'd be a perfect fit for our summer internship program. You should apply."
Steve stood next to Dove, feeling a twinge of discomfort as he watched the interaction. She was already thinking about her future, about internships and careers. Meanwhile, he was just trying to figure out what to do with the next few months.
"Wow, that sounds amazing," Dove said, accepting the pamphlet the man handed her. "I'll definitely think about it."
As they walked away from the booth, Dove glanced down at the pamphlet in her hands, her excitement barely contained. "Can you believe that? A law firm right in Starcourt Mall? And they think I'd be a good fit."
Steve forced a smile, but the knot in his chest tightened. "Yeah, that's great, Dove. You'd be perfect."
"I don't know," she said, glancing up at him. "It's just an internship, but it feels like a step toward something, you know? Can you imaginemebeing a lawyer?"
Steve nodded, his mind spinning with thoughts he couldn't voice. The truth was, Dove was figuring things out. She had a path, a direction. And him? He was just.. here. Stuck.
"You should go for it," he said, though his voice lacked the enthusiasm she had. "Sounds like a great opportunity."
Dove smiled at him, though her brow furrowed slightly as she noticed the tension in his voice. "Are you sure you're okay? I know you've been stressed about this college stuff."
Steve shrugged, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. "I'm fine. Just.. not really sure what I'm doing, I guess."
Dove stopped, turning to face him. "Steve, any college would to be lucky to have you. You have nothing to worry about."
Steve gave her a weak smile, but her words didn't bring him much comfort. He appreciated her trying to help, but every time they talked about the future, he just felt more and more lost. And now, with Dove's future starting to take shape, it felt like they were heading in different directions.
"Yeah, I hope so," Steve muttered, glancing away. "Let's keep looking around."
March 11, 1985
The soft hum of Dove's desk lamp illuminated the room as she and Steve sat together, papers and textbooks sprawled out across the floor. Steve leaned back against her bed, staring blankly at his history notes, barely reading the words. Dove, on the other hand, was focused, her brow furrowed in concentration as she scribbled answers into her workbook.
"I think I left my calculator in your backpack," Dove said, crossing the room to where Steve's bag sat slumped against her desk. She leaned down and unzipped the main compartment.
"It should be in the front pocket—" Steve's voice trailed off as Dove paused, pulling out a few crumpled envelopes instead of the calculator. His heart skipped a beat when he saw them—his college letters.
"Steve," Dove said, excitement bubbling in her voice. "Are these your college letters? Why didn't you tell me you got them?" She looked back at him, her eyes wide and hopeful, as if she were about to celebrate some big news.
Steve's stomach dropped. He sat up quickly, the relaxed posture he'd had moments ago gone. "It's—uh, it's no big deal, Dove." He stood up, crossing the room in a few quick strides, reaching for the letters. "Seriously." He tried to take them from her hands, his voice tense.
But Dove was too quick. She held the letters out of his reach with a playful grin, clearly unaware of the weight they carried. "No big deal? Come on, Steve! This is huge!" She glanced down at the envelopes, her eyes scanning the names of the schools. "These are from Emerson, Chicago... even NYU? I didn't know you applied here. That's amazing!"
Steve's jaw tightened as Dove's excitement only made his heart sink deeper. He reached out again, but Dove dodged, opening the first envelope before he could stop her.
Her smile faded instantly.
"Dear Mr. Harrington," she read aloud, her voice faltering. "We regret to inform you.." Her eyes flicked up to meet Steve's, the look of excitement replaced by something softer, something that hurt to see.
"Steve," she said, her voice gentle now. "I'm so sorry."
He clenched his jaw, snatching the letter from her hands, crushing the paper into a ball as he turned away. "It's nothing, Dove. I didn't even want to go there, anyway."
"What about the other ones?" she asked carefully, picking up another letter. "Maybe it's just that one."
"Dove," Steve said, his tone sharp now. "Just drop it, okay? It doesn't matter."
But Dove wasn't one to back down so easily. She flipped open another envelope, scanning the contents, and when she looked up again, her eyes were filled with that same soft pity. "It doesn't matter? Steve, you didn't get into any of them."
His heart slammed in his chest as the truth he'd been trying so hard to ignore crashed over him. He wanted to pull her into a hug, to accept the sympathy and the comfort, but instead, he just felt.. exposed. Humiliated. He took a step back, shaking his head.
"Look, I.. I gotta go," Steve muttered, grabbing the rest of the letters from her hand.
"Steve, wait." Dove reached out to him, her fingers brushing his arm. "It's not the end of the world. There are other schools, other options. You're going to figure this out. We'll figure it out together."
But Steve just pulled away, his frustration rising. He threw his backpack over his shoulder, his movements jerky and uncoordinated.
"Don't do that," Dove said softly, taking a step toward him. "You don't have to act like you don't care. Not with me."
Steve froze for a second, his hand gripping the doorknob. He wanted to turn around, to tell her everything he was feeling, how scared he was about what came next, how lost he felt. But instead, he forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"I'm fine," he said, his voice hollow. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Before she could say anything else, Steve pulled open the door and left, the weight of the rejection letters still heavy in his hand.
April 29, 1985
Dove sat on the bleachers outside Hawkins High, the cool spring wind tugging at her hair as she waited for Steve. School had let out nearly half an hour ago, and though they had plans to hang out, Steve hadn't shown up yet. She glanced down at her watch, her foot tapping nervously against the metal step.
A figure appeared at the edge of the parking lot, and Dove's heart lifted when she saw Steve walking toward her, his hands shoved into his pockets, shoulders hunched against the wind. His face was tight, the usual confident grin nowhere in sight.
"Hey," she called out, standing up as he reached the bottom of the bleachers. "I was starting to think you ditched me." She tried to keep her tone light, hoping to break through the tension hanging between them.
Steve forced a smile, though it barely touched his eyes. "Yeah, sorry. Got caught up with something."
Dove studied him for a moment, her own smile fading as she took in the tired lines around his eyes, the way he seemed to be avoiding her gaze. "You okay?"
"Yeah, totally," Steve said quickly, a little too quickly. He climbed the bleachers and sat next to her, the silence between them heavy and uncomfortable.
Dove glanced down at her hands, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of her notebook. She didn't want to push him, but it was clear he wasn't fine. "You know.." she started slowly, "You don't have to pretend everything's okay. I get it, Steve. I know how uncertain you're feeling right now."
Steve shifted beside her, his jaw tightening as he stared straight ahead. "I told you, it's not a big deal, Dove."
Dove frowned. "It is a big deal. You've been working toward this all year. And now you're acting like it doesn't matter?"
"Maybe it doesn't." Steve's voice was clipped, his hands balled into fists in his lap. He stood abruptly, stepping down from the bleachers and turning his back to her.
Dove felt her chest tighten. "Steve.."
He turned around, his face hard. "What do you want me to say, Dove? That I'm pissed? That I feel like a total failure? I didn't get into college. No one wants me. What else is there to say?"
Dove stood up, stepping toward him, her voice soft but firm. "You're not a failure, Steve. You know that. There are other schools, other options—"
"No! There aren't!" Steve's voice cracked, his frustration spilling out. "It's over, Dove. This was it. This was my shot, and I blew it." He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to hold it together, but the weight of it all was pressing down on him.
Dove reached for him, her hand brushing his arm. "It's not over, Steve. You don't have to figure it all out right now. You're going to be fine, I know you are."
"Yeah? How do you know that?" Steve asked, his eyes locking with hers, his voice thick with emotion. "You've got everything planned out. You're smart, you're going places. I don't even know what the hell I'm doing tomorrow."
"Steve, you—"
"Dove, I can't do this right now, okay?" Steve cut her off, his voice softer now, but the edge of frustration still there. He stepped away from her, shaking his head. "I just.. I need to be alone for a bit."
Dove felt the sting of his words like a physical blow, but she nodded, swallowing down the hurt rising in her chest. She didn't want to push him further, but it was hard to watch him shut her out. "Okay," she said quietly. "If that's what you need. But I'm here, Steve. Whenever you're ready."
He gave her a tight nod, his gaze dropping to the ground. Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing there on the bleachers, watching him disappear into the parking lot.
Dove stayed there for a while, the cold wind biting at her cheeks, but it wasn't the wind that left her feeling frozen inside.
May 5, 1985
Dove sat cross-legged on her bed, her history textbook open in front of her, though she hadn't turned a page in the last twenty minutes. Her eyes were fixed on the lines of text, but her mind was elsewhere, waiting for Steve to show up to hang out like they had planned. The house was quiet, the low hum of the evening filling the air. Her mom had been watching TV in the living room, a rerun of some old sitcom, the kind of background noise Dove had grown used to over the years. She absentmindedly flipped her pencil in her hand, a sense of restlessness settling in her chest.
Suddenly, the shrill ring of the phone broke the silence, echoing down the hallway from the living room. Dove glanced up, her heart skipping a beat.
"Dovey!" her mom's voice called out from the other room, her tone light. "It's Steve!"
Dove felt her chest tighten. She wasn't sure if it was relief or anxiety that washed over her, but either way, she pushed herself off the bed and padded down the hallway, her bare feet soft against the hardwood floor.
When she reached the living room, her mom was sitting on the couch, holding the receiver out toward her with a smile, her eyes twinkling with curiosity as Dove took the phone from her.
"Thanks, Mom," Dove said, forcing a small smile before turning her back and bringing the phone to her ear. "Hey, Steve," she said, trying to sound casual, though the uncertainty in her voice was hard to mask.
"Hey, Dove," Steve's voice came through the line, though it lacked its usual warmth. "Look, I.. I'm really sorry, but I can't make it tonight. Something's come up, and I—"
Dove's brow furrowed, her heart sinking a little. "Are you okay? What's going on?" She leaned against the wall, gripping the phone a little tighter.
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Dove could hear the faint sounds of Steve's house in the background. "It's nothing big, I just.. I need some time, okay? I don't think I can hang out tonight."
"Steve," Dove said, her voice quieter now, concern creeping in. "If something's going on, we can talk about it. I'm worried about you."
"Dove, I'm fine, okay?" Steve said, his tone sharper than before. "I just.. I don't want to talk about it right now. I've got stuff to deal with."
Dove pressed her lips together, trying to push down the frustration that was bubbling up inside her. "I'm here, Steve. You can talk to me—"
"I said I'm fine," Steve interrupted, his voice hard. There was a pause, and then he let out a long breath. "Look, I just need a break tonight, okay? I'll see you tomorrow."
Before Dove could respond, the line clicked, and the steady hum of the dial tone filled her ear. She stared at the phone, her fingers still gripping it tightly, the empty sound in her ear matching the hollow feeling in her chest.
She slowly lowered the receiver and hung it back on the wall. Her mom was watching her from the couch, her face a mixture of curiosity and concern.
"Everything okay?" her mom asked gently.
Dove forced a smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Yeah, Mom, everything's fine."
But as she turned and made her way back to her room, the knot of worry that had been forming in her chest for weeks now felt tighter than ever.
May 25, 1985
The quiet strumming of Eddie's guitar filled the air, a steady rhythm that normally helped Dove relax. But today, as she sat on the worn couch in Eddie's trailer, her mind was far away. She absentmindedly picked at a loose thread on her sleeve, her thoughts swirling around Steve, around the tension that had been building between them for weeks.
Eddie sat across from her, his fingers deftly moving over the strings of his guitar. He was halfway through some riff from a Metallica song when he glanced up and noticed the distant look on Dove's face. He stopped playing, letting the last chord hang in the air.
"Hey, Earth to Dove," he said, his tone light but concerned. "You've been spacing out for the last half hour. What's going on with you?"
Dove blinked, snapping out of her thoughts as she looked up at Eddie. She forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Sorry, just.. a lot on my mind, I guess."
Eddie set his guitar down, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "Harrington again?"
Dove sighed, her shoulders slumping. "Yeah.. I guess."
"Figures." Eddie raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to go on. "Is he being all broody and distant? Because that dude's got the whole brooding thing down to a science."
Dove let out a small laugh, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Yeah. I don't know, Eddie.. it's just been weird lately."
Eddie tilted his head, giving her a knowing look. "Weird how?"
"He's been pulling away, not telling me things,shutting me out. Every time I try to talk to him about it, he just.. shuts down."
Eddie rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. "You know, some guys just suck at talking about their feelings. Not that I'm an expert or anything, but.. Harrington seems like the type who'd rather bottle that shit up than deal with it."
Dove nodded. "Yeah, but he wasn't always like this. We went through some shit together last year. Whenever I fell he was right there to help me back up. I'm trying to do the same for him but.." She paused, biting her lip. "I'm starting to wonder if we're even going in the same direction anymore."
Eddie raised both eyebrows at that, surprised by her admission. "Wow, that's.. pretty heavy. You think you guys are growing apart?"
Dove stared down at her hands, her fingers picking at a loose thread on her sleeve. "I don't know. Maybe. I mean, I've got the internship coming up, and senior year, and college after that.. and I don't know where Steve fits into all of that feels like he's stuck, and I don't want to leave him behind, but.. I can't wait around forever, you know?"
Eddie sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I hate to say it, but maybe he's not meant to come along for the ride. Doesn't mean he's a bad guy or whatever, but if he's not willing to work with you.. I mean, what are you supposed to do? Put your life on hold?"
Dove's chest tightened at his words, the truth of them hitting harder than she expected. "I just.. I thought we'd figure things out together. But lately, it's like we're living in two different worlds."
Eddie gave her a sympathetic look. "You can't wait around forever, hoping that he'll change." He let out a sigh, his tone softening. "Look, I know you care about him, but you've gotta think about you, too. You deserve someone who's gonna be in it with you, who's on the same page."
Dove swallowed hard, her mind racing as Eddie's words sank in. She had been so focused on trying to keep things together, she hadn't stopped to think about whatsheneeded. "I don't want to give up on him, Eddie."
"Then don't," Eddie said, his voice steady. "But don't lose yourself trying to fix something that maybe isn't meant to be fixed."
Dove sat in silence for a moment, letting his words wash over her. It wasn't what she wanted to hear, but deep down, she knew he was right. She couldn't keep putting her life on hold, waiting for Steve to figure things out.
"Thanks, Eddie," she said quietly, offering him a small, grateful smile. "You always know what to say."
Eddie smirked, leaning back with a casual shrug and grabbing his guitar. "What can I say? I'm wise beyond my years." Dove laughed, the tension in her chest easing just a bit. "And if you ever need a reality check, you know where to find me." he said, going back to his melodic strumming.
Dove nodded, feeling a little lighter, though the weight of her decisions still loomed large. But at least now, she had clarity.
May 28, 1985
Dove was tidying up her room when she heard a knock at the front door. She wasn't expecting anyone, and her mom was driving Dustin to summer camp, so with a sigh, she set down the pile of clothes and walked to the door. When she opened it, Steve was standing there, looking nervous, his hands tucked behind his back as if he wasn't sure what to do with them.
"Steve?" Dove blinked, surprised to see him. "What are you doing here?"
Steve cleared his throat, looking almost sheepish. "I, uh... I have something I need to say." He shifted on his feet, his gaze flickering between her and the ground.
Dove felt a pang in her chest. She hadn't expected this—hadn't expected him to show up, not after weeks of barely talking.
"I.. I do too," Dove said quietly, crossing her arms over her chest as if to brace herself for what was coming.
Steve's eyebrows lifted, curiosity and uncertainty written on his face. "Oh.. okay." He nodded slightly, his expression softening. "You go first."
Dove drew in a deep breath, her heart hammering in her chest. This wasn't how she imagined this conversation would go, but she couldn't avoid it any longer. "Steve, I've been thinking a lot, and.. I think we need to talk about us."
Steve's posture stiffened, and he tilted his head, clearly caught off guard. "What about us?"
Dove bit her lip, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "I don't think this is working anymore." Her voice wavered slightly, but she kept going. "We've been on different paths for a while now. I've tried to make it work, but it feels like.. we're not in sync. You've been distant, and I've been focusing on school and the future, and I just.. I don't think we're in the same place anymore."
Steve stared at her, his expression shifting from confusion to something closer to hurt. "Wait.. you're breaking up with me?" His voice was soft, almost disbelieving.
Dove swallowed hard, nodding. "Yeah.. I think it's for the best." She could feel the weight of her own words, the finality of them settling over her like a heavy blanket.
Steve blinked, his mouth opening slightly as if he was going to say something, but he quickly closed it. "Oh, uh.. yeah," he stammered, his voice awkwardly flat. "Yeah, that's what I was going to say too."
But Dove could hear the hesitation, the way his voice faltered. "Steve," she said softly, stepping forward slightly. "I'm sorry—"
"No, no, it's fine," Steve cut her off, shaking his head quickly, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "It's.. probably for the best."
But even as he said it, Dove could see the cracks in his resolve. His words felt hollow, like he was trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince her. She wanted to reach out, to tell him it wasn't his fault, that sometimes things just didn't work out. But she knew it wouldn't help. Not now.
"I'm sorry, Steve," Dove said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Yeah.. me too," Steve replied, though his tone was strained.
There was a long, heavy pause between them, and finally, Dove took a step back toward the door. "I.. I should go."
Steve nodded, his eyes lingering on hers for a moment longer before he looked away. "Yeah. Sure."
Dove gave him one last, lingering glance before turning and stepping back inside, closing the door softly behind her.
Steve stood there on the porch for a long moment, the silence around him almost deafening. His hands, which had been tightly gripping something behind his back, slowly dropped to his sides. The bouquet of flowers he had been hiding finally came into view, drooping slightly from where he had held them so tightly. He stared down at the flowers, his heart sinking.
He had come to apologize, to fix things. He hadn't expected this. He hadn't expected her to break up with him.
With a bitter sigh, Steve turned and walked back to his car, his movements stiff and mechanical. He yanked the car door open and tossed the bouquet onto the passenger seat, the flowers landing haphazardly as if they were nothing more than an afterthought. Anger flickered to life inside him—hot and sudden, like a flame catching on dry kindling. But it wasn't directed at Dove. No, he couldn't blame her. Not for this.
The anger was at himself. For not seeing it coming. For letting things get to this point. For not being enough. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white as the frustration built inside him. He should've been better. He should've done something sooner.
Steve clenched his jaw, trying to keep it all in check, but the hurt—mixed with the anger—was like a hard knot in his chest that he couldn't shake.
He sat there for a moment, staring straight ahead, his mind racing with everything he wished he had said, everything he wished he could undo. But none of that mattered now. She was gone, and it was over. The flowers, still lying discarded on the seat next to him, were just a reminder of what he couldn't fix.
With a frustrated exhale, Steve turned the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life as he pulled away from Dove's house, leaving the past—and the apology he never got to give—behind him.