Chapter Sixty-Two: School Scuffle

(Will The Wise, Pt. 4)

***

*trigger warning: mentions of slut-shaming and near-sexual assault trauma*

Rowan didn't know why she was back.

The minute the bell rang and she was free from her Chemistry class, Rowan had found herself heading to the gym for her free period instead of the library. It was especially weirder since Eddie didn't have PE today.

But, she did know who would have PE today.

In fact, the minute she entered the gym, she could see him and his tower of hair, as if ready to go on the basketball court any minute now. He'd noticed her immediately and jogged up to her, brows creased in confusion.

"Hey," Steve greeted.

"Hey," Rowan replied in a monotonous tone.

"Surprised to see you back here."

"Surprised to be back here, to be honest. I thought I was heading to the library and not back to a gym full of boys who seem to be allergic to deodorant," Rowan replied, sarcasm thick in her tone as she shifted her bag strap.

Steve crossed his arms, lifting a brow. "Oh really? You think I smell?"

"No, thank God. You seem to be one of the only sane ones. I mean literally everyone else. I'm surprised my nose hasn't committed mutiny and run off my face."

Steve grinned, looking like he was fighting back a laugh. "Good. You'd look worse without a nose."

"Oh, you think I'm not pretty?" Rowan deadpanned, and Steve immediately flushed as he back-pedalled, "No! I just think you'd look pretty bad without a nose! I think you look pretty, but in a friend way! Just a friend way!"

"Relax, I'm just teasing," Rowan said, a wicked grin on her face. "God, it's so easy to mess with you, Harrington."

Steve immediately glowered at her.

"You're evil."

"I know."

Steve tilted his head, brows still drawn together, and he said, "Hey, I think I known why you're back here."

"Really? Do enlighten me, Harrington."

"I think you're here to cheer for me again."

Now it was Rowan's turn to stare at him agape, before she shook her head. "Nope. Fat chance, Harrington."

"Then why are you here?" he pointed out, a smirk on his face.

Rowan was silent, because she couldn't answer. She had been confused on why she'd come back here. Maybe she was coming back to give Steve support? He was her friend, after all, and he and his team had been crushed by Hargrove yesterday. Even if he was going to get decimated again, what was the harm in appearing and giving some silent support?

Especially after what happened between him and Nancy.

Rowan looked back to Steve and said, "Okay, maybe I am. Just don't expect me to show up in a cheerleading outfit and shaking pom-poms, Harrington."

"Never," Steve said with a grin. "But seriously. You, a cheerleader?"

"I know. I'd rather let the Demogorgon eat me than be a cheerleader," Rowan snarked, making Steve's grin wider as he let slip a chuckle. Not that Rowan had anything against the sport; when she attended the occasional pep rally—mostly for Chrissy and Robin and to support them—and when she tried some of the moves with Chrissy, she could see how gruelling the sport was. It was just how some of the cheerleaders truly encapsulated the mean bitch cheerleader stereotype that turned her against it.

"Harrington!" the coach shouted, breaking the moment. "Stop talking and get back on the court!"

"Yeah, I'll be there, Coach!" Steve shouted back before he turned to her. "I have to go."

"Okay. I'll be there, offering support and studying," Rowan said, hooking her thumb at the bleachers. "Good luck with your game of tossing balls into laundry baskets."

"That's not even what basketball is."

"Isn't it? Seems like that to me."

Steve rolled his eyes, but turned and jogged back onto the court before his coach could call him a second time while Rowan hiked up the bleachers to the very back, sitting down and getting herself organised with studying, looking up occasionally to see Steve on the court, focused on the game about to start. As her eyes drifted from Steve to look at the other players, Rowan found to her displeasure Hargrove there, once again shirtless. This time, he didn't seem to know she was here—or maybe he did, and was ignoring her. Good. She much preferred it that way.

The whistle blew, and the game started as the players scrabbled for the ball like it was the last fry in the basket, Steve managing to get it.

And while she knew that he might lose, Rowan hoped Steve would win.

***

The squeak of sneakers and the bounce of the ball on the floor echoed in Steve's ears. Sweat dripped down his forehead, clinging to his hair and making his shirt stick to his back. In front of him Billy Hargrove was bouncing the ball, almost mockingly, a grin on his face that made Steve want to punch him.

Steve had gotten the ball early on and managed to score a few shots, but that good luck had quickly run out when one of Billy's teammates took the ball and they quickly took the charge in winning. Most were Billy's shots, and he lorded in that.

Never was it more present than right now, as Billy's grin widened and he shouted, "Alright! Alright, alright! King Steve! King Steve, everyone! I like it, playing tough today."

Irritation crawled along Steve's skin. "Jesus, do you ever stop talking? Come on!"

Billy laughed, a grin on his face as he kept dribbling the ball, almost lazily now. "What? You afraid the coach is gonna bench you now that I'm here? Huh?"

Steve didn't deign to respond, irritation escalating, trying to see an opportunity to steal the ball.

"I see the psycho bitch's back!" Billy shouted, and the irritation intensified, changing into anger. Steve still remembered yesterday at the locker rooms, the look of anger and, briefly, fear on Rowan's face when Billy wouldn't leave her alone. He'd never wanted to hit somebody more than he wanted to hit Billy then, never felt so much anger at seeing him making Rowan visibly so angry, uncomfortable and afraid. That while he knew she could handle herself, he'd still jumped in to help her. Now, it seemed Billy was trying to draw on Steve's anger, make him want to lash out at him. "Quick to move on, aren't you, Harrington? Never thought you'd go for crazy—or for freaky."

Steve frowned. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Billy grinned. "Didn't she tell you? Wait, maybe I'll let her tell you. Heads up, she gets real zappy when you get close to her—and I mean really close to her."

Steve frowned in confusion not completely feigned, as he resisted the urge to look at Rowan as his gut twisted. What was Billy talking about? Wait, did he know about Rowan's powers? No, he couldn't, otherwise Rowan would be more panicked instead of acting like her usual self. 

So what the hell was he talking about? And what did he mean getting close to her?

Nevermind. He'd ask later. He had to focus on the game.

He made to take the ball, but Billy was already moving, ploughing him over as he tossed the ball to one of his teammates. Steve grunted, and as he made to sit up, Billy loomed over him, grabbing one of his hands.

"You were moving your feet," he said. "Plant them next time. Draw a charge."

Then he left Steve on the ground and continued the game. Steve glared at Billy's back as he got to his feet. As he did, he looked and saw Rowan on her feet, her expression twisted between anger and concern, fists clenched and knuckles white; if he squinted, he could see faint sparks glinting off her tightly balled fists.

Rowan caught his gaze, and relief bled into her expression, loosening her hands as she sat back down. Steve watched Rowan before the whistle blew and one of his teammates shouted his name, reminding him about the game. He returned to it, but he still felt the burn of Rowan's gaze, still felt the concern that he'd could have gotten hurt.

Still felt the anger that she would have decked Billy in the face right then and there if she hadn't seen him get right back up.

***

The school bell blared, at odds with the mixtape of Mötley Crue, Black Sabbath, Def Leppard, Queen and AC/DC blaring in Rowan's ears as she left her Calculus classroom with the rest of her fellow students, merging into the crush of bodies that made up the student body as some headed to their lockers or extracurriculars or the doors, with one singular thought on their minds—the freedom of the weekend waiting just beyond the hellhole that was Hawkins High.

Rowan was among the majority making her way to her locker when she heard her name being shouted from that direction. Thinking it was one of her friends, Rowan's face shifted into a scowl at seeing Hargrove there, leaning against the wall of lockers, an oily smirk on his face.

Rowan chose to ignore him, opening her locker door, but Hargrove didn't seem to want to be ignored, as he said, "So. Saw you earlier in the gym."

"Yeah. What of it?" Rowan asked, her voice exuding LEAVE ME ALONE in blaring, capitalised neon red letters.

Not getting the hint, Billy kept talking, drawling, "Nothing. Just seems like you look the type not to like sport, sweetheart."

"Don't call me sweetheart," Rowan snarled as she banged the locker door short.

Hargrove's smile sharpened. "Sure, sweetheart. Just... seems like there is something between you and Steve Harrington. Especially when I heard you were mortal enemies."

"People change. We're friends now. Not like that's a concept to get through in your smoke-addled brain, douchebag. Now, goodbye," Rowan said with venomous sweetness before she began to walk away.

"Or you're his new bitch."

Everything froze and erupted inside Rowan.

She whirled and hissed, "What did you just fucking say?"

"Hey, if I knew you guys were screwing on the side while he was with Wheeler, I would have left you alone. I thought you and that freak Eddie Munson were, but guess I was wrong," Hargrove said, hands held up despite his smirk. "Maybe Harrington even likes whatever weird shit you did to me on Halloween. Maybe he's even into it, and he likes whatever else weird shit you trailer park trash bitches like to do, and that's why he's with you and not with Wheeler. Hell, maybe those rumours about you hating sex are wrong and you're just a slut as well as a freak and psycho who's screwing both Har—"

Billy's words were cut off by the sound of Rowan's fist meeting his nose.

He staggered back, right into the lockers, cupping his nose where blood was beginning to stream down as Rowan shook her hand, knuckles stinging. Surprise glinted in Hargrove's eyes, before he grinned, like he enjoyed the pain.

Not like Rowan cared. She felt nothing but volcanic, thunderous rage.

She punched Hargrove again, right in his throat. As he gagged, Rowan grabbed his shoulders and tossed him to the floor, where space had been cleared. She'd been about to slam a kick into his groin like she had done on Halloween when Hargrove was up and slammed her to the ground, her nose smashing into the floor. Pain thrummed in her body, but rage and adrenaline numbed it and she bared her teeth in a feral snarl, blood from her nose staining them red, and she lunged for Hargrove, grabbing for hair to tear off, skin to claw and bruise and break, before she felt a punch in her cheek, more pain exploding in her face as she toppled to the ground and tasted copper, but she sprung up with a shriek and head-butted Hargrove in the middle, rage fuelling her, lightning seething in her veins and electrifying her bloodstream, her mind a riot of anger because how dare he call her a slut, how dare he accuse Steve of cheating, how dare he say she was Steve's new girl to toy with, how dare he insult her and her home, how fucking dare he—

Her fist slammed into Hargrove's temple. His fist clocked her shoulder. She slammed her elbow into his side. He backhanded her. She made to claw the skin off his face, nails primed for blood, ready to tear flesh and muscle asunder—

And hands were grabbing her, pulling her back. She writhed and thrashed, more feral than girl, electricity crackling inside her nerves, snapping across her skin. She saw Tommy H and another jock grab at Hargrove, his face a mess of blood and bruises. She probably looked the same, but Rowan wasn't done, she had to make him pay, he had to pay for insulting her and accusing Steve, she had to make him pay for what he could have done to her on Halloween, she had to make him fucking pay—

"Rowan!"

Rowan whirled, and saw Steve. Steve, holding her back along with Eddie, the two working together for once, restraining her from beating Hargrove to a bloody pulp. She could see a mess of emotions on his face as he wrestled with her to keep her from Hargrove, a firm grip on her arms, but she could see anger—anger, not at her, but at Hargrove, and Rowan wondered how much he heard. In the crowd, she could see Chrissy in her cheerleading uniform and Robin standing next to the other band geeks, eyes wide. Across from her, Hargrove wrestled free from Tommy H, looking at her with hatred and amusement.

Rowan bared her teeth, the storm roiling underneath her skin, begging to be free.

Hargrove wiped some blood from the cut on his temple, and he grinned.

"Well, well. Looks like you really are a psycho bitch," he said, still grinning.

Rowan glowered at him, hatred burning inside her, and she spat at him, a globule of blood-flecked spit landing on his shoe.

Hargrove's face twisted in disgust, but he walked away, almost sauntering, like he'd won and they hadn't been physically dragged back. Rowan watched him go, glaring with enough intensity that it felt like any second Hargrove's head would explode, rage still boiling within her as lightning stung inside her skin, begging for release, tugging at her stomach.

"Rowan," someone said—Steve or Eddie, she didn't care—as Rowan wrestled free, her body shaking with adrenaline and lightning, electricity pressing against her skin, her stomach swooping inside her like she was on a roller coaster, a tingling feeling spreading through her body, lights flickering above. Lightning responding to her rage, lightning demanding release.

"Rowan."

This time, it was definitely Steve, who was reaching a hand toward her.

Rowan slapped his hand away and growled, "I'm fine," before she stalked away, fists clenched to hide the shaking, the lightning coursing through her intensifying, crackling along her bones, sizzling in her blood, stinging her nerves, students making a clear path as she made a beeline for the gym, she had to let all this rage and anger and crackling energy out—

Rowan slammed the doors open with her telekinesis and stormed into the, thankfully, empty gym. Her body trembled before he threw her head back and screamed.

And with that single, primal scream, the storm exploded.

Electricity erupted out of her, hissing and snapping in writhing tendrils of blue-white, fluorescent lights flaring blinding white before shorting out—any cameras would do the same. The bleachers were slammed back by the force of the lightning, black lines scored into them by the merciless trail of the lightning's path. Rowan, in the eye of the storm, collapsed to her knees as the lightning faded away, leaving nothing but her, veins and eyes glowing electric blue, and a few stray sparks stinging along her body, hair haloing her face with the static charge, panting heavily. The air burned a strange, acrid scent, and blood trickled from her nose, joining the blood from her split lip and what already poured from her broken nose, as the rage bled out of her body like the lightning had.

"Rowan!"

Rowan turned and saw Steve there. His eyes were wide as he surveyed the destruction, strands of his normally perfect hair falling in front of his face. But the minute he saw her, his face softened.

"Rowan, what—" Steve started, until Rowan whispered hoarsely, "Hargrove got me alone."

Steve blinked, obviously taken aback. "What?"

"At the Halloween party, after the accident with the punch. He... he found me when I was coming for you guys and dragged me alone. H-he tried to do something to me, change my mind about me hating sex, but I... I-I zapped him and kicked him in the groin and threatened him and Eddie found me, before he could do anything, but it..." Rowan explained, her voice drying up as her body shook again, gripping her arms. "I-I don't know what could happen if Eddie hadn't found me, o-or my powers didn't kick in, I don't know, I don't know..."

A harsh sob scraped out of her throat, and again she felt Steve's arms around her, but instead of restraining, they were comforting. They were safe. Rowan fell into them, clinging to Steve tightly, both ignoring how the lingering sparks stung Steve, but he still kept holding her. 

"That asshole," Steve muttered, and Rowan could hear the glare in his voice. "So that's what he meant. I'm gonna kill him. I'm gonna literally kill him."

Rowan choked out a laugh. "I already tried that."

Steve didn't say for a while, just holding her, before he murmured, "What do you want me to do?"

Rowan looked up at him, eyes shining with the answer.

"Just... just hold me. Like this."

Just let me know I'm safe.

Steve obliged, just holding her, and it was so odd, because Rowan had spent so long comforting others—comforting her aunt when she had her breakdown, comforting Alistair over a nightmare or a terrifying encounter with a ghost, comforting Eddie when he broke down as he came out to her, comforting Robin when she came out to her after their kiss, comforting Chrissy when her mother's passive-aggressiveness and micro-managing got too much, comforting Alistair's friends, especially Will, if they wanted it, comforting Nancy after Barb, comforting Jonathan when he lost Will—that she almost forgot she needed to be comforted, too. And yet, Steve had done it twice—after her dream-walk into Will's episode, and right here, right now, almost on instinct, and she'd sunk into it, had sought it out after that harrowing nightmare. Which almost had her laugh because a year ago she couldn't imagine this.

And yet, here she was, seeking comfort in her enemy turned friend, in the wreckage of her storm of rage and fear. Holding her in the way that felt safe. Holding in a way that had her lose her guard.

They stayed that way, until Rowan pulled away, wincing as dried blood cracked on her lip. "Ow."

"Jesus, Graveswood, you look bad," Steve said.

Rowan tried for a smile that sent a sting of pain down her lip. "You should see the other guy."

Steve cracked a smile. "A year ago, I was the other guy."

"I know."

They looked at each other, before Rowan revealed, "He also said I was your new girl. That we were screwing while you were still dating Nancy."

Steve stared, before his face reddened with anger. "What? No, that isn't even true! I would never do that! I..."

Steve stood up, pacing as he gripped his hair before he muttered, "God, I want to kill him."

"Join the club," Rowan said, looking at Steve, at his reaction. She knew it would be like this—even with the stunt last year, Steve would never have cheated on Nancy. A product of his home life, of seeing his dad cheat on his mom, Rowan assumed. Of Steve not wanting to be his father in that aspect, and that made him a better man.

It made Rowan hate Hargrove even more for thinking Steve was like that.

Steve let go of his hair and looked at her. "What about you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah. Are you okay, with what he said? What he tried to do?"

Rowan pulled her knees to her chest. "No. No, I'm fucking not okay, I made that clear when I tried to scratch his face open. I might be, but I... I don't know. But, I'm glad to have Eddie, Chrissy and Robin, my family... and you."

She looked at Steve then, who looked at her, something in his face Rowan couldn't quite read.

"I... I guess I'm glad to have you too, Graveswood."

They looked at each other, before Steve cleared his throat and said, "We should, uh, we should maybe leave."

Rowan nodded and got to her feet. "Y-Yeah, we should. My aunt's probably gonna start a manhunt for me soon."

"What about your face?" Steve asked, looking at her in concern.

"I'll tell her it was a fight. That's the truth."

"I didn't mean that."

"I'll be fine. I'll patch myself up at home."

Steve looked concerned, but he didn't argue, looking around at the gym, at the lingering damage. "Should we clean this up?"

"I never did, after a surge. Pretty sure I gave the janitors an even harder job, but I couldn't care less," Rowan admitted as she stood up. "Besides, how can we clean this up?"

"I dunno. Lots of bleach?"

Rowan snorted, and Steve smiled, as if he was trying to make her laugh—and it was working. Rowan shook her head, a smile on her face, before she headed to the doors, looking back at Steve as she whispered, "Thank you, Steve. I... I really needed it."

Steve looked at her, an unreadable expression in his eyes, before he nodded. "Okay. Glad I could help."

Rowan smiled and then she was walking away, leaving Steve behind in the empty gym.

***

The hallways were cleared, yet students still whispered. Rowan ignored them as she marched to the front doors, grateful it was the end of the school day; she had a feeling things would be a lot worse if the fight had broken out between classes. And honestly, it was a fight coming. As much as rage and pain fizzed in her, satisfaction of finally punching Hargrove burned inside her, fuelling Rowan as she headed to where her aunt waited.

The moment she and Steve had in the gym, where he found her and just... listened to her, held her, made her feel safe, also fuelled Rowan with something else in regards to Steve. Something like... comfort, a sense of safety, like she could always find that in Steve.

That she liked she could find it in Steve, even as strange as it was considering their enmity a year ago. Even when that enmity ended with a brawl in an alley and a fight against an inter-dimensional monster whose face opened up like a murderous flower. 

Liked she could find it in her friend.

When she finally got to Aunt Aco's car, her aunt's eyes widened.

"What happened? Are you okay? Do you need me to talk to the principal or hunt someone down or help hide a body?" her aunt demanded.

"I'm fine, it was just a fight with the asshole. He was saying stupid shit about me and I wasn't gonna let him keep saying it," Rowan answered, gripping her bag strap in a death grip.

Her aunt's mouth twisted. "Does he look bad as well?"

"Yes. And I'll make him look even worse if I ever see him again."

Aunt Aco frowned, but jerked her head to the car. "Get in, kid. I'll patch you up and make something at home."

Rowan smiled gratefully, sliding into shotgun. She frowned at the lack of her brother. "Where's Alistair?"

"He's gone to Will's to check up on him," her aunt answered, brow furrowed in concern. "I hope he's okay. Kid's been through too damn much already."

Rowan nodded in agreement, watching out the window as her aunt peeled out of the parking lot and raced down the road. As they raced back home, her thoughts turned from Billy Hargrove and her anger and Steve and the warmth and safety she'd felt to her brother and Will, of the creature she'd seen when she dream-walked into his episode three nights ago, of Dart.

And the terrible feeling that it was connected, that it meant the thing she hoped was gone for good was back.

And that, even if Rowan or anyone else didn't know it yet, it was all rising to a boil.

And it would soon explode.

***

Heheheh

The Rowan vs Billy scene was a thing long coming and VERY gratifying to write! Of course, it's the build-up to the final fight at the Byers, but I really enjoyed writing it and have Rowan go feral (she deserves to be) 

Also, the bit with her and Steve. I love developing their relationship, showing both their snark and moments of comfort, of friends that were once enemies who have the potential to become more than that 🥺

And yeah, it's all coming to head... ;)

Also... THANK YOU ALL FOR 1.5K READS!!!! That means a lot to me, so thank you all!! <333333

Next chapter will be soon!

Please read, comment and vote!

GhostWriterGirl out!