6. Save A Prayer

I still can't quite believe how much I'm enjoying this! I LOVE writing this story and your reactions make it like… 100x better! I honestly don't know what I'm gonna do when I catch up with Season 2 because… I'm going to have to slow down a bit with this, but… not just yet! :D

THANK YOU! For your reviews and continued support. I mean it, thank you! :)

As always, here's a little playlist and this time, it's actually little!

1)Madonna – Lucky Star2)Duran Duran – Save A Prayer (keep an eye on the lyrics ;) )

Yeah, that's it from me. Thank you for the massive support, I'll keep on writing. I hope you like it, don't forget to let me know what you think! Enjoy! :)

I bob my head to the song, mumbling along as I try to figure out if I'm using the sewing machine the way I should be using it. It's one thing to sew a dress for your favorite doll when you are six, and another to sew together a full on Chewbacca costume. Yeah, I bit of more than I can chew.

Yeah, not even the pending disaster can ruin my mood.

"Tina!" mom's voice catches my attention; she's standing by the door, looking at the situation in confusion. Can't blame her; I haven't touched the sewing machine in years, it's early on a Saturday and music is blasting through the stereo. "Keep the volume down, you'll wake the dead." She warns me.

"Would you rather listen to Madonna or the sewing machine?"

"Sewing machine," she deadpans. "What are you even doing with it?" I watch as her eyes travel to the fabric I'm using. Old, ripped, brown blankets. I really can't blame her. "Tina, what are you doing?"

"I'm trying to make a Chewbacca costume for Dustin."

"Who is Dustin? And what is a Chewbacca?" she asks in confusion.

"Dustin is one of the best friends of Jonathan's brother Will," I explain quickly. "And Chewbacca, without "a", is a character from 'Star Wars'. Chewbacca's a wookie."

"I have even more questions than I had seconds ago."

"Okay, Jonathan, my friend? We went to the dance last night?" I ask and she nods her head. "Well, he has a 12-year-old brother named Will. Dustin is Will's best friend and I'm helping him with a costume."

"Why?"

"Because the only thing worse than me trying to make this costume is four 12-year-olds trying to make it," I roll my eyes; I almost feel insulted when I see her doing her best not to start laughing. "Look, I'm doing it, I can't back out of it now. I just need to figure out how to do it."

"What does this… Chewbacca look like?" she asks.

"Well, Chewbacca is… kind of like… a werewolfy, human, hairy looking bear."

"Tina, have you been doing drugs?" mom asks me in a serious tone.

"No, mom!" I snap in annoyance. "It really is what I'm saying it is. It's from 'Star Wars', it doesn't have to make sense to anyone. I need to figure this crap out, because if I don't, that kid will go without a costume and it's going to be my fault!" I hit the sewing machine in anger; so much for a good mood.

"Alright, I'm not going to ask any more questions," mom laughs. "What are his measures?"

"What measures?"

"His body measures," she elaborates. Oh. That. "Tina, please tell me you didn't start making a costume without knowing the exact measures." She sighs, already knowing that's exactly what had happened.

"Okay, I just started working on the costume, I would have figured it out soon." I defend myself.

"Tina," she sighs, looking at me in amusement. "Get the boy to come here. I'll help you."

"Thanks mom." I smile, feeling relieved that I will have her help. I walk over to the bed and jump on it, grabbing my phone. I need to find out Dustin's number; I don't even know what his last name is!

"What's this?" mom asks and I notice her pointing at the black jacket that is on my bed.

"Oh, Jonathan gave me his jacket last night when it got cold." I shrug.

"A gentleman," mom nods, clearly impressed with hiss manners. "I tried to make one out of Steve."

"Yeah… I'm not so sure if that one worked," I mumble, finally dialing Jonathan's number; she is obviously planning to stick around for the phone call and if I try to usher her out, she would think that I am doing it so that I can whisper sweet nothings to Jonathan over the phone. It's better if I just call him and get it over with. Although, this is not going to be a good first conversation, not after everything that had happened last night.

I finally got home after midnight. Steve was home before me! It was… amazing. But we haven't done much talking. All we've agreed on is that I will take his jacket because it's cold and that we will talk today. I don't think we were counting on my Mom being in the room for when that happens.

"Hello, Jonathan speaking."

"Hey, it's Tina." I mumble, watching my mom from the corner of my eye as she meddles around the sewing machine; I have a feeling she's paying careful attention to every word I say.

"Hey," he suddenly sounds more cheerful; I can practically imagine his smile. "How are you? Did you sleep well?" he asks. Yeah, I really wish we could talk in private.

"Yeah, yeah, it was good," I sound carefree. "You?"

"Yeah… good." He mumbles. He can hear that I sound off, I know he can. He'll figure it out, I'm sure.

"Is Will home? I need to speak to him for a minute?" I swiftly change the topic, still eyeing mom.

"Will?" Jonathan laughs. "You… want to talk to my brother?"

"Yeah, I need to ask him something."

He doesn't say anything. I'm already contemplating whether or not I should risk it all and say something.

"Hey!" Will answers, literally seconds before I say something I might end up regretting. "What's up?"

"Hey Will, could you please give me Dustin's phone number?" I ask. I want to throw something at my mom because this is the moment she has decided to leave the room and let me have a normal conversation. "I need to check something with him about the Halloween costume."

"Sure, do you have a piece of paper?"

In a matter of seconds, I find a pen and one of my notebooks and I scribble down the number that Will gives me.

"Thank you, Will," I tell him, leaning over my bed to see if mom's anywhere nearby. Fuck it, I'm risking it. "Could you put Jonathan back on the phone please?"

"Yeah, just… oh, he's in the shower," he tells me. Damn it! "Do you want him to call you back?"

"Yes, please," I sigh, hoping my mom will be happy. "Tell him to call me as soon as possible, okay?"

"Sure."

I call Dustin the moment I hang up with Will, not wanting to have the line busy when Jonathan calls.

"You have reached the Henderson residence. How may I be of service?"

"Yeah, hi Dustin," I laugh, amused by the way he answers the phone. Add to that the cute sound he makes when he talks and his level of adorableness goes through the roof. "It's Tina."

"Tina who?"

"How many Tina's do you know that are making your Halloween costume?" I ask in annoyance.

"Ah, the one and only, Tina," he chuckles and I laugh, yet again. "How may I help you, sweet Tina?"

"Yeah, I'm going to need you to come over to my place, if you can. I need to measure you up. Well, my mom needs to; she'll help me with your costume. We need it to fit you well, right?"

"Right now?" he asks and I mumble in agreement. "Can Mike come over too?"

"Sure, just get your asses here," I agree, quickly giving him my address and ending the call as fast as I possibly could. I stare at it for a solid 30 seconds before realizing that my entire conversation with Dusting couldn't have been longer than… one minute or something? It's impossible for Jonathan to already be out of the bathroom. I will have to wait for a little while but I can do with a bit of wait.

I'm one of those stupid girls, I know I am. I know it the moment I grab his jacket and actually smell it. Yup, it smells like him, like whatever cologne he uses. I am grinning like an idiot and I don't even have a problem with being one of those girls.

Actually, I think every girl is one of those girls; it's just a matter of time before a guy awakes it in you. I didn't want for Jonathan to make me into a… stupid, bubbly teen that only things about him but… day 1 and I'm here, with my nose buried in his jacket.

Everyone else knew it before I did, before we did. I meant it when I said it, I did not see anything more happening between the two of us. But it had happened and it… I enjoyed it very much. And I want to continue it. I want to see where the hell it can go. I would be willing to go under interrogation by my parents; I would be willing to listen to Steve's complaints and to everyone teasing me.

Oh yeah, bring it on. If that means I get to keep Jonathan… bring it.

"Are you trying to make that phone ring with your mind?"

"Huh?"

"Are you trying to make that phone ring with your mind?" Mike repeats his question and I remind myself that hitting a child that is not your sibling is not a good thing. Hitting siblings isn't good either, but when your brother is Steve Harrington, you are forgiven. "Or are you just trying to move it?"

"Oh, shut up."

"Hey, my sister does it too," he raises his arms in defense. "She was like that when I left the house."

"Yeah, you'd better not say that around here, Mike," I warn him; he's a smart boy, he can figure it out. Steve is yet to make an appearance, he hasn't left his room as far as I know but if I were Nancy, I wouldn't want him to hear that I was waiting for a phone call; I saw them last night. If she's not waiting for my brother's call, Nancy must have had one hell of a night.

"Why would… oh," he mumbles, before frowning in disgust. "You teenagers are creepy."

"Oh, we are," I can't protest about that one. "But wait 'till you become just as creepy as we are."

"Ugh, never."

"Yeah, I'll see ya," I laugh, before returning to what Mike had interrupted me in; staring at my phone. It's been an hour since I've told Will to tell Jonathan to call me as soon as possible. I'm not going to panic. I can't do that. Maybe he is busy; he had to make lunch or something. Maybe Will forgot to tell him, that can happen; god knows how many times I forgot to tell Steve that girl number 5 called while he wasn't home. Besides, I don't want to annoy him with my calls. Not everything needs to happen right away, the moment I want it to happen. I need to learn how to be patient.

"That phone isn't going to ring just because you're staring at it." Mike reminds me.

"I thought that having an older brother is the worst but… I was wrong."

"Ah, I love you too!" Mike teases me and this time, I actually hit him. With a pillow, so I suppose that means I am forgiven. I swear, I had a mouth on me when I was their age but they are 10 times worse, especially the two that are at my place right now. I'm yet to test Lucas, but he seems a bit more… chill than Mike or Dustin. And Will is a freaking angel of a child. An angel that forgets to tell people someone called and asked for them to call back.

"Well, we are done!" I hear my mom and seconds later, she and Dustin walk into my room. "Dustin, you don't need to worry; we will have your Chebacka costume ready right on time."

"Chewbacca." Mike, Dustin and I correct her at the same time.

"Chewbacca," she laughs. "Now, do you boys want to stay a while longer? I have some cookies."

"Thank you Mrs. Harrington, but my mom will make a meatloaf out of us if we're late for lunch," Mike speaks up as he starts walking out of my room, followed by Dustin. "Thank you for the OJ, Mrs. Harrington."

"And thank you for helping Tina with such a challenging task," Dustin smile at her. "Thank you."

"Aww, thank you boys. Let me walk you out." Mom gushes; they have completely made her heart melt.

"Thank you Mrs. Harrington. Tina, over and out!" Dustin tells me and he and Mike salute me.

"Yeah, over and out." I imitate their salute.

Yeah, Joyce and Will are a packaged deal that comes with Jonathan. And so are Dustin, Mike and Lucas.

From where I am sitting on the bed, I can see Steve stopping in the hallway, looking in confusion at the two boys who are making their way down the stairs, followed by mom, before looking back at me.

"How long was I asleep?" he asks, his voice groggy. I sigh as I get up and walk over to the door.

"Not long enough." I close the door in his face.

Six hours. I have waited for six hours before I finally broke and called Jonathan. Will answered.

"He hasn't called you yet?" Will asks in surprise.

"You told him?"

"Yeah, I did," he mumbles in confusion. "He must have forgotten about it. He's at work now, but I will remind him when he comes back home. Or in the morning, if I fall asleep."

"Please," I tell Will. "It's important. Please Will, don't forget."

"I won't," he promises. "I'll even write a note."

"Okay, thanks Willster. Talk to you later."

There's no way in hell Jonathan forgot, not if Will have told him. No. We've had this situation before. Every time I said I had to talk, Joyce or Will would pass the message on or I'll just leave a message on the answering machine and he would always call. And not once did I point out that it's an emergency.

Now, I've made it clear that it's important that he calls. If he's not calling, it's because he doesn't want to. And that is making me worry.

No, it's too early to panic. Way too early. Will will write a note, tell him tonight or in the morning, he will call and we will finally talk in peace. I will not panic. I will not be one of those girls.

"Hey Joyce, it's Tina."

"Oh, hi sweetie," she tells me, her voice automatically turning into the gentle tone she uses when she talks to me. "How are you?"

"I'm okay. You? Is Jonathan at home?" I ask even before she had a chance to respond.

"No, he's at work," she tells me. "He ran out as soon as we had breakfast."

So he did see Will. And he is avoiding me.

"Could you please tell him to call me when he gets home? I need to talk to him."

"Sure, I will," she promises. "Tina honey, is everything okay? You sound a bit off."

"Oh, it's just a head ache, don't worry about me," I reassure her. "Just remind him to call me, okay?"

"Yeah, I will," she agrees. "Just get some rest, okay?"

"Yes, thank you."

He is absolutely avoiding me.

I will not go to his workplace. I will not fall that low. This is the last attempt I've made. If he decides not to call me after another reminder, I am done with calling.

I have gone through at least 30 different moods today.

At first, I was angry. I grabbed his jacket and I was waiting for him to walk past me in the school hallways, ready to throw it at him in pure rage.

Then, I was sad. I was sulking while staring at the jacket in my hands, thinking how it still smells of him.

And finally, I was worried. I didn't see him, all day. Normally, we would run into each other. Most of the time, we're not in the same class and on Mondays, it just so happens that we have no classes together. I was absolutely sure that I would find him in the dark room, which has become our regular meeting place during lunch break but he just wasn't there.

Giving me a cold shoulder is one thing. Skipping school is something else. When we talked yesterday, Joyce didn't mention anything about him feeling under the weather. That either changed or he has become a champion in avoiding me and honestly, I'm not sure how I feel about it.

I was prepared to be alone in the dark room after school, so I wasn't disappointed when I didn't find him there. Suddenly, this room has become the place it was before Jonathan, before we had our first real conversation here. It's just a room, where I develop photos, listen to music and smoke a few. It's not a safe haven from the stupidity of high school which I get to share with my best friend.

I thought that all was okay. We were laughing that night, it was the best night ever. He kissed me goodnight, he gave me his jacket. Even when we talked the other day, albeit briefly, he sounded as if he was happy to hear from me. And now he's just pretending as if I don't exist.

I have been making fun of Steve's rejects for years now. Now that I feel like a reject myself, I doubt I'll do it ever again. I can only hope that Nancy Wheeler got a call back, when I haven't.

I jump up in surprise when the door slams open; he looks equally surprised to find me here.

"Hey."

"Hey," he responds, not even offering me a smile or anything. "I… I thought you left. Sorry."

If he thought I have left, that must mean that Steve wasn't waiting for me. Which would normally mean that Jonathan will drop me home, like he usually does. Today, I have a feeling I'll have to walk.

"Yeah well, I'm still here. But don't mind me."

I can't tell if anger or hurt are stronger in me at this point. Whatever it is, I can't even look at him. I focus on the photos I have been working on and I try to pretend like he's not doing the same just a few feet away from me.

I can't believe him. I can't believe he's willing to act as if nothing had happened between us. Even more than that, I can't believe he's acting like we're not even friends but just… two people, in the same place at the same time. I thought I was going to ask him for reasons why he hadn't called me but I can't even do that. In all honesty, I don't want to hear his response to that. It's uncomfortable enough as it is.

Accidentally, I see one of the photos he was working on; my face appears on it.

And the music isn't helping at all. The lyrics are just adding insult to injury and I don't know if I'll ever listen to "Save a Prayer" in the same way. The more Simon sings, the more annoyed I get. And he's just standing there, ignoring me so… effortlessly.

If only the photos could dry faster. As I wait for them to dry, I walk to the other side of the room, lighting another cigarette; the photos he is developing are the ones from that night and those photos are the last thing I want to look at.

What if he's doing it on purpose? He could have known I was here. I'm here every fucking day! Whether Steve was waiting to be my taxi driver or not, Jonathan could have guessed that I was down here.

He doesn't respond to my calls, he avoids me in school, he doesn't speak to me when he can't avoid me. And as if all of that wasn't enough, he's working on those pictures.

He didn't give me a single sign that something was off. On Friday night, he seemed to be happy just as much as I was. Not a single… well, yes, he did give me signs. Not on Friday but the cold shoulder and the ignoring I've been faced with the whole weekend… that can speak for itself.

I can understand that he doesn't want to continue whatever I thought we have started that night. I don't like it but I can understand. I'm hardly a trophy one would like to have. I can even understand that he doesn't want to be friends with me anymore; it can happen. Things happen and people part ways, this wouldn't be the first or the last time. What I don't understand is why he's adding insult to injury and making fun of me in such a way.

Yeah, that's it. I don't even care if I ruin the photos; most of them are of him anyways; I grab them all, not looking at if I'm bending them, not checking if they're dry; I just throw them into my backpack, feeling as if I won't be able to breathe if I stay here a second longer and the feeling only grows when I see him looking my way, looking at what I am doing in mild wonder, as if he is surprised by my reaction. He looks at me with that stupid look of his, that mix between a frown and a look of worry. Even when he's a jackass, he still looks like the most innocent person ever, dimples and all.

Jackass. He is a total and complete jackass.

"Your jacket is on the table." I snap as I walk past him, hitting him with my shoulder; I feel good about it, even if I had not done it on purpose. I make sure to slam the door on my way out. I don't just slam it; I put all my strength into the move and I'm pretty sure half the school had heard it. And I don't care.

I'll be damned if I become one of those girls, like the ones my brother uses and then throws away. I will not let Jonathan Byers treat me the same way Steve has treated the last 20.

No, no way. No one will ever do that to me, not even Jonathan. I can take a lot of shit, I really can. I can take it, I can forgive and forget, but to have someone insult and disrespect me in such away? Absolutely not. I'll be damned if I allow a man to have such power over me.

"Um, Tina?" I hear Steve's voice. I ignore it, I ignore him. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing, drawing fucking rainbows?" I ask and I can see that he's taken aback by my response. "I'm crying and listening to Duran Duran and I want to do so in peace."

Am I asking for much? I just wanted to be alone in my misery, which is why I closed the damned door.

"Yeah, you haven't changed the fucking song for four hours."

"I don't care," I tell him as I wipe away a stray tear. "Leave me alone, Steve. This day has been shitty enough already, I don't need you to add the fucking sprinkles on top of the sundae."

"Okay, what the hell is going on?" he asks. Despite me telling him that I want to be alone, he persists; he walks inside my room and closes the door behind him. He isn't going to let this one slide. "You look like shit. You're crying, Tina. You cry next to never! You have been acting weird ever since… after the dance," I listen as he puts two and two together. It didn't take him as long as I thought it would take him. "Are you like this because of Byers?"

"I'm not."

I don't think I've ever said a less convincing lie than this one. I'm a solid liar, I really am but this was… pre-school level. A monkey would have called my bluff, let alone my brother.

"What did he do?" Steve asks and I just ignore him; just because he didn't buy it doesn't mean that he needs to know all the details. "Tina, what the hell did he do to you?" he waits for my response but I give him nothing. "Tina, I swear to god, if you don't tell me, I'll break him in half!"

"Nothing, Steve!" I finally give up. "Nothing happened. He did nothing. I'm the idiot. It's not his fault."

And that's the reality of it all. The shitty, ugly reality. He really did nothing wrong. Yes, he could have been a bit… kinder, I suppose, about the whole thing. But it's not his fucking fault. He didn't say anything, we didn't talk about it. I've created the problem out of nothing. It's my fault because I've just assumed that it meant something and it means nothing. And that's okay. The problem is, I didn't think before I made a decision in his stead. It's not his fault, even if he's been acting like a jackass about it.

"Tina, tell me," Steve insists, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "It's my job to keep you safe."

"I'm not in danger, Steven."

"But you are hurt," he mumbles. Yeah, I can't really deny that one. Just because the wounds are self-inflicted doesn't mean that they don't hurt like hell. "Look, if anyone knows how your average guy thinks, especially about girls, it's me. I can… solve the freaking puzzle in your stead."

"Yeah, because you and Jonathan Byers have so much in common," I mumble. I know that he is worried and that his suggestion was a way for him to try to help me but it's plainly stupid. "That's the problem here, Steve. He isn't your average guy. I can't… I can't use that mold."

"So… you do like him, after all?"

"Steve, now is absolutely not the moment for you to tell me 'I told you so'."

"I'm not saying it," he shakes his head. "Look, if you don't think I can help you… just let me know if I have to kick his ass because I will gladly do it. I don't care if it's his fault or your fault, no one can make you cry and just get away with it."

Well, maybe I should just ask Jonathan to be a jackass to me more often, since it's apparently serving as the glue that's bringing Steve and me closer together. He's never said anything like this to me before. It's kind of nice, knowing that I have someone that would gladly kick asses because of me.

"Don't waste your tears on an idiot. It doesn't matter if it's Byers or if it's the next door neighbor. You shouldn't cry because of someone."

"See, I was fine before," I mumble. Oh god, I'm going into full confessional mode. "I was all fine and strong and now I'm just… a big pile of mush."

"From my experience," Steve stops, taking a moment to think. "Girls are often like that. You want to show that you are strong. And most of the time, you are, you really are. But from my experience, there's always that one guy," he chuckles, "I was that guy sometimes. And other times, that guy took my place. But every girl, almost every girl, has that one guy that can make her weak even without trying. That guy that can do next to anything, and they'd run back. Maybe Byers is that guy for you."

"What if he is?" I ask. I'm starting to be genuinely worried about this because I recognize the textbook example of what Steve just told me. I see it every day, with every other girl at school. "I don't want to have a guy like that. Not now, not ever."

"See, I don't think you can fight it," Steve admits as he makes himself more comfortable; he even puts his feet up on the bed. I'm actually interested in what he has to say and I don't even bother with making him put his feet back down. "I also think it works for guys as well, that there's always that one girl. I don't think that can be changed. It will always be like that but I do believe that you can play around with it a little bit."

"How?"

"Whatever you do, don't let the guy know that he's that guy," he tells me, his voice dead serious; this has turned into a very serious conversation. "If he knows it, you've… you've given him infinite power. You can also reverse it; if you're that girl to someone, you can do whatever the hell you want. Now, that doesn't mean that everyone uses it. Using it is a dick move, let's be honest," I nod; it's absolutely a dick move and he has perfected it. "If you want to make it out of it alive, don't let the guy know that he's the guy. That's the biggest mistake you can make."

"I understand what you're saying but what the hell happened to trust?"

"Trust doesn't exist, not in the early stages and if that's what you're looking for, you should stop," he shakes his head. I don't think I've ever heard him sound more certain about something. "Once you built trust, then it becomes pretty obvious that the guy's the guy. As it should be, because that's how relationships work. Being with someone… you know they can hurt you horribly and they know that they can hurt you horribly. But you trust them that they won't do it, despite having that ability."

"That is… very fucked up."

"I know," he agrees. "But that's what it is. It sucks, but…"

"Yeah, but," I sigh, falling back on my pillows. "I just… want to erase everything."

"You can't. Yeah, you already knew that," he sighs when he sees the look I give him. "Look, maybe you should just give it a bit of space. I don't know what happened and judging by the tears you've cried, I probably don't want to hear it but… give yourself a bit of time. Give the fucker time too! Clear your heads and then make a decision. Don't force anything on yourself."

"And what, I'm just… not gonna function properly until I sort it out?"

"Of course you're gonna function properly," he laughs. "Sure, it'll hurt like a bitch. And it's not going to be easy, especially not if things don't end up going the way you want them too. But this guy is what? A guy? A friend? And you were not yourself before him? Of course you were. You had a life before a guy and you will have a life after a guy. Focus on other crap and it will be easier."

"This sucks, Steve. Like… it really sucks."

"I know," he puts his arm over my shoulder and pulls me in for a lazy hug. "But it will either get sorted out or it will pass. There's no middle option. And if you do change your mind about me kicking his ass to hell and back, just holler. Okay?" he asks and I nod my head, despite knowing that Jonathan could never do something so bad that would make me call for the cavalry. Although, the way things have been developing, maybe I shouldn't put anything past him. "I've got your back. I've always got your back."

Out of all the people who I thought could possibly help me with this… I shouldn't put Steve in a box. I know him like the palm of my hand and he still managed to surprise me.

Big brother or a guard dog, he is doing a decent job right now.

1)Madonna – Lucky Star – right at the start, in Tina's room

2)Duran Duran – Save A Prayer – both in the dark room and when Tina cries and talks to Steve