Chapter Text
Every day at work, Beth drew a monster.
Long shifts behind a cramped counter have a special way of coaxing out shadows in peoples' minds. But her shifts at the Starcourt Mall were different. She often got chills setting up shop in the morning, even when the air conditioning hadn't yet kicked in to combat the sticky summer heat.That specific uneasiness was one she'd grown accustomed too since she moved to Hawkins as a young girl. She's pondered it endlessly, but was always brushed off by her mother blaming things on small town life. "Things are just strange in small towns," she used to say.
And Hawkins was strange. Beth had seen her fair share of mysteries: classmate disappearances and freak accidents. The town seemed haunted by ghosts she couldn’t yet see. But she felt them, especially in the Starcourt Mall. When foot traffic was slow, that’s what filled her thoughts. Her yellow legal pad was sprawling with messy sketches of monsters: masses of ink with large expectant mouths, waiting to swallow her, waiting to make her another Hawkins mystery.
“Um, excuse me.” Beth shot up her gaze from her latest work, quickly sliding the paper aside. The boy before her was the youngest customer she’d seen in days (most kids preferred to lounge at the movies or the ice cream shop across the atrium). He couldn’t have been much older than 14, though the neon camp gear he was decked out in only seemed to make him appear younger. There was something familiar about his mop of curly hair caged by his “Camp Know Where” hat and the tense smile he wore.
“Oh hi,” Beth said, her voice twinged with uneasiness. Before she could launch into her rehearsed greetings, he spoke again.
“Do you guys have any Russian books?”
“Russian? Like Dostoyevsky?”
“No, like a translation book.” The boy continued, his eyes roaming around the store in an effort to land on anything but her.
Beth scrunched her nose. “Translation?”
“Yeah, I’m … on a journey down the river of knowledge. And I need this book, dearly. As my paddle.” He spoke theatrically, dancing around the question.
The words pricked her ears with familiarity and her eyes narrowed. The connection sparked. “Wait, I know you.”
Dustin locked eyes with her now, their gazes finally connecting and whispered: “oh shit.”
“You’re the kid who stole from the library last year,” Beth said, her tone growing a sharper edge. “You stole all those lizard books!”
“Actually, I don’t think I need that book after all,” Dustin said, plastering a cheesy smile on his face as his feet took him closer to the door. “Bye now!”
“Wait!” Beth called, bounding around the counter to find him gone once she reached the doorway. He’d become another face in the crowd, mixed in with the rest of the shoppers milling about. “Come back!”
After a few more moments of frantic searching, Beth returned to her desk. This time, a new mystery played in her mind: The Case of the Reptilian Book Thief.
***
“Sorry kid, you haven’t returned the last five books you checked out.” Beth said, tapping her computer screen with a shiny nail before looking over sympathetically at Dustin. Unlike some of the more bitter librarians, she hated being the ‘bad guy’. It was hard enough to convince kids to read in the first place. Who was she to deny them more books? “If you can come back and return them today, I’ll hold these behind the desk for you.”
The curly-headed boy looked back at her shy smile with furrowed brows. She could almost see the cogs turn in his brain, see when that mischievous glint ignited in his eye.
“Wait-” Beth started, but it was too late. The boy had swept the titles off the counter and ran, Converse pounding the carpeted floor as he bounded past other students. Beth followed as fast as she could, calling after him only to be stopped by her co-worker.
“Not worth it, Beth,” Doreen said, grabbing her arm before she made it out the door. “We’ll hit him with a fine or something. You scanned his card, right?”
“Yeah, I did,” Beth said, returning to her desk in a daze. His account was still pulled up on her computer. HENDERSON, DUSTIN, the screen read.
Why did Dustin Henderson want those lizard books so badly? was the thought burned into Beth’s brain that day at the library. After a while, she’d chalked it up to a simple conclusion: kids are weird. But seeing the curly headed boy again with the mischievous glint in his eyes ignited that inquisitive fire in her once again.
Her own personal Hawkins mystery had written itself a new chapter.
Why did Dustin Henderson want a Russian translation book so badly?
* * *
“And that’s why I need your help with translation.” Dustin said, still buzzing from the residual adrenaline in his system. Even tucked away safely in the booth of Scoops Ahoy, he still shifted uncomfortably like that bookseller still had eyes on him.
“I don’t know Russian.” The boy across from him said, shifting the sailor’s cap on his mountain of gelled hair.
“Yeah, neither do I. That’s why we need a translation book.”
“Well there’s a book store right there, why don’t you go get one?” Steve said, innocently rising from his seat to gesture towards the store. Dustin pulled him down further into the booth.
“Don’t! Don’t point.”
“What’s your deal, Henderson?”
“The girl, the one who works there,” Dustin said, his voice uneasy. “She, uh, she doesn’t like me.”
“Why? You kick her dog or something?”
“What? No. Why would I even…?”
“I don’t know, just thinking of stuff,” Steve shrugged.
“No, focus here. You remember when I had Dart, my lizard?”
“You mean your cat-eating monster that almost killed us? Yeah I vaguely recall.”
Dustin rolled his eyes at Steve’s sarcastic remark and continued. “Well, when I was still trying to figure stuff out about him, I took all these books from the library.”
“Okay,” Steve said blankly.
“But I didn’t check them out.”
Steve's eyes widened in faux-shock. “And do the police know about this?”
Dustin hit Steve. “Shut up. I’m being serious. That girl, the bookstore girl, worked there. She totally saw me stealing and she hates me now so I can’t go in there.”
“So how are we supposed to get this translation done?”
“Well I was thinking, I know someone who’s great with the ladies who can go in there and get the book for me.” Dustin said, looking at Steve pleadingly. Steve rolled his eyes.
“No. No no no. I am not walking through the most public area of this mall dressed like this.” Steve gestured down to his bright blue sailor’s uniform. “I’m already bombing with the chicks here as it is, I don’t need to bring down my street cred by going into a bookstore .”
“I don’t know, Steve, maybe being surrounded by books for a few minutes will make you smarter somehow,” Robin called from the register. “It’s not like you can get any dumber as is.”
“Shut up,” Steve sighed and looked back over at Dustin’s pleading face. “Fine, but you owe me Henderson.”
“Thanks, Steve.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Steve said, removing the cap from his head and throwing it to Dustin. “But if I’m talking to a girl, I’m losing the hat.”
“That’ll definitely help,” Robin called as Steve disappeared, walking briskly through the mall’s atrium past the fountain before ducking into the store. The bookshop seemed like a different world from the rest of the Starcourt. Instead of being decked in the usual neon shades of the decade, it held a subdued color palette of soft oranges and greens. Shelves of colorful titles lined the walls, broken up the occasional movie poster or promotional flyer. At the center of it all was a girl, body curled over a small notepad on the desk. When her eyes lifted to meet Steve, he nearly jumped.
“Beth,” he said, the words spilling out like a reflex. Steve never would’ve suspected that Dustin’s bookgirl-enemy was his former classmate. “I didn’t know you work here.”
“And I didn’t know you became a sailor in the U.S.S. Butterscotch,” Beth replied, a small smile cracking her face.
Steve sighed, looking down at his outfit as he approached the counter. “Yeah, the outfit isn’t great.”
“So you’re the one working at Scoops Ahoy with Robin.”
“You know Robin?” He said, perplexed.
“Yeah, we’re neighbors. I usually drive her home. She always talks about her goofy coworker but I never expected it was you.” Beth said, trying to stifle a laugh. All of Robin’s anecdotes became much funnier imagining the work shenanigans she described as played out by the former king of her high school.
“Yeah, small world,” Steve said, embarrassment flushing his face. “She never said it was me?”
“No, she just calls you ‘dingus’.”
“Yeah, of course she does.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Um, anyways. I need a book on translating Russian.”
“Russian?” Beth said, quirking a brow. “You’re the second person today to ask about it.”
Steve visibly tensed. “Yeah, well it is the fastest growing language in America.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” She said, tilting her head in suspicion. “What do you need it for?”
“I, um, I want to read the news.”
“You want to read the news in Russian?”
“Yeah, like with all the Cold War stuff. I wanna read it right from the source,” Steve said, his confidence faltering with each word under Beth’s skeptical gaze.
“You’re friends with that kid who came in earlier, aren’t you?” Beth said with a coy smile. Steve sighed, leaning on the counter in frustration.
“Yeah, Dustin. I’m helping him out with this thing , and he really needs a book on Russian.”
“Why?”
“I … It’s complicated.” Steve said, looking her in the eyes with an earnest expression. “I just really need your help with this, Beth. Please?”
Looking into his brown eyes, Beth realized she had never seen Steve Harrington up close. Every time she’d seen him before was from afar. A blur in hallways, a head in the crowd at house parties, or stories told from her classroom friend about her hair-obsessed boyfriend. Seeing him like this, like a man rather than a figment of buzz words like “prom king” and “popular”, made her far more sympathetic than she’d ever been to him.
“Yea, okay. Let me go find it for you,” Beth conceded, and she weaved through the small aisles of the shop with Steve close behind. They reached the section quickly, and Beth began kneeling to get a closer look at the shelves. The language section was a wreck, all mixed in with travel catalogues and cookbooks. "Shit."
"What is it?"
"We just hired this kid who always comes in high for his shift. He completely messed up stocking this section yesterday. It's gonna take me a couple of minutes to sort through everything." Beth threw him a sympathetic smile.
"That's alright, no rush." Steve assured, leaning against a nearby shelf. "The more time I'm here, the less I spend slinging ice cream at those monsters."
Beth laughed. "Loving the job, then?"
"It pays the bills," Steve shrugged. "Good way to meet people."
"Meet girls, you mean?" Beth joked.
Steve sputtered. "What? No. I just mean people. People our age. Like Robin."
"If you say so," Beth said, tone utterly unconvinced as she shuffled through the messy stacks. Steve watched her work, head spinning as her words sank in.
"Is that what you think of me? From school, I mean?" He hadn't meant it to sound so small, but Steve's voice came out vulnerable. Beth paused, and turned to face him.
"I- I mean. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it to be a dig." Beth said. "I just don't think I've ever seen you without a girl on your arm. Or without your posse, or whatever."
Steve nodded thoughtfully, turning over his memories of high school in his mind. He liked to believe his 'King Steve' days were far, far behind him. That he had changed for the better. Maybe not that much was different after all. "Yeah, I guess that is true."
"I'm sorry if I insulted you-"
"No, it's fine." Steve brushed her off, looking to his feet as he shifted between them. Beth frowned as she returned to sorting the books, beginning to find some semblance of sense in the whirlwind. An awkward tint began to stain the air, each of them trying to busy themselves with thoughts other than their high-school classmate. Steve-looking for anything to latch onto in a store he knew nothing about-turned to Hall and Oates crackling over the overhead speakers.
"Hey, I love this song." He gestured to the ceiling, and Beth paused.
"Oh yeah. 'Out of Touch' is my favorite of theirs. I've had it on repeat for days"
"Do you play all the music in here?"
"Yeah, I have a mix. Madonna, Bowie, Beatles, stuff like that." Beth shrugged. "I need good music to keep my energy up or else I'll totally crash halfway through my shift."
"Sounds like some pretty good picks." Steve said, looking down at her.
"Well, if you ever need a break from whatever they play at the Ice Cream Ship, you're always welcome to enjoy the good music in here. Even if you don't need to buy a Russian translation book."
"Thanks," Steve smiled, and a familiar ache started up in his chest. Beth was sweet. Surely he must've seen her in classes, but his laser focus on status left her and the other 'unpopular' crowd to fade into the background. When he looked at her face, he was transported back to glances through the library and the lunchroom. Smudged memories like paintings he could never decipher, but now his vision was clearer. From this short brush of reunion, he concluded that Beth was a person he would've liked to know, a person he wants to know.
It’s this thought process that caused Steve to break the silence once again.
“Did we ever know each other?” He said abruptly. “In school, I mean. Like, did we have classes together?”
Beth’s fingers paused over the books for a moment. “Why are you asking me that?”
“I just … I don’t think I ever really knew you. But we’ve been at school together like forever.”
“I’ve definitely seen you around, but we were never friends if that’s what you mean. Except in like, elementary school.” She said, a small flashing on her face for a moment. “I used to play tag with you and a few other kids.”
Steve’s eyes widened. “That was you?”
“Yeah,” she laughed. “That was so long ago, obviously. I think that might’ve been the last time I talked to you. We had English class together sophomore year, but I think I was a little out of your pay grade by then, so to speak.”
The silence became more potent then as Steve absorbed her words. “Yeah, I was kind of like that.” He took another beat before adding: “I’m sorry.”
Beth shrugged. All the sharp memories from school had lost their bite since summer started. She’d had friends to sit with at lunch, good grades to feed her confidence, and all the pain she carried already faded away into the abyss of the ‘past’. "It's fine. I already made fun of you for your dating habits, so we're even now."
Steve gave her a weak smile, a sense of shame still burning off him.
“Ugh, finally,” Beth extracted the book from behind a mountain of other novels and presented it to Steve.
“Thanks so much for this,” he said. She shrugged him off.
“It’s just my job. C’mon, I’ll ring you up.”
He followed her to the counter, watching her mannerisms as she fiddled with the register.
“It’ll be $2.99,” Steve extracted a few crumpled bills and slid it across the counter. She printed up the receipt and stuck it in the book's front cover, placing her hand on the book but hesitating to give it to him. There was one more thing she needed to know before she conceded completely.
“One more thing,” Beth said, earning a concerned expression from Steve. “What did Dustin want to know about lizards?”
“What?”
“Your friend. Why did he steal those lizard books?”
Steve stared at her blankly, racking his brain for an answer, any answer.
“I won’t pretend to understand the nuances of Henderson’s mind. All I know is he is strange as he is mysterious.” Steve answered, his deadpan delivery earning a small laugh from Beth.
“Yeah, whatever,” she said, her tone laced with disbelief. “Well, if you ever feel like telling me about what really happened with the lizards or the Russian news on the Cold War, I’ll be here pretty much every day.”
She slid the book to him with a smile.
“Yeah, maybe I’ll stop by once I catch up on the happenings.” He said with a lopsided smile, nearing the door. He lingered by the entryway, unsure of how to end something he wanted to continue. He played it safe; “Bye Beth.”
“Bye, Cap’n,” she gave him a faux salute as he walked out the door.
As Steve walked away he opened the front cover and saw something striking typed in red ink on the receipt:
CASHIER: BETH N.
EMPLOYEE DISCOUNT APPLIED
By the time Steve returned to Scoops Ahoy, the smile on his face still hadn’t faded. He shoved the receipt in his pocket, the Be Back Soon! sign greeting him as he approached. Though the register was abandoned with no customers or staff in sight, the store was certainly not empty. The sound of Robin and Dustin arguing about something too stupid to note was muffled but definitely audible outside front. Silence only fell with Steve’s return where he was met with expectant glances from the pair.
“Great, you’re back!” Dustin said, his feet propped up on the metal table. “You got it?”
“You didn’t tell me Beth was the book girl,” Steve said, slamming the book down on the table.
“Who’s that?” Dustin said, eagerly snatching the book.
“I went to high school with her, she’s…” Steve said, his words falling away as he began rewinding the interaction in his head.
“How am I supposed to know what girls you know? You flirt with nearly everyone you see.”
“Oh! Burn Harrington! I’m starting to like this kid,” Robin said, adding another tally to the “YOU SUCK” section of her white board.
“Robin, you know her. She drives you home.”
“Yeah, we’ve been friends since we were kids.” Robin nodded.
“So? You didn’t think to say something.”
“I figured you know her. But I thought it’d be funnier if I kept quiet than ruin the surprise.” She smiled wickedly. “I mean, who wouldn’t want to see their high school prom king dressed like a sailor?”
Steve frowned. “Not funny.”
“Lighten up, dingus. Not like she’d go out with you anyways.”
The bell at the counter started ringing wildly, and Steve looked smugly at Robin.
“You’re up,” He said, handing her the scooper tucked away in his pocket. She rolled her eyes, taking it reluctantly as she left the room.
“Finally, we can get to work.” Dustin began wiping the white board clean and replacing it with letters from the Russian alphabet. Steve took a seat, with his hands in his pockets, fingers running over the already crumpled receipt. His head was still in the bookstore when Dustin placed the tape recorder on the counter.
“Earth to Steve?” Dustin said, flicking his arm. “Listen up. We have work to do”