✵

Steve explained once again, having previously mentioned that object in particular a grand total of three times.

His car was his most prized possession, easily the best in the school parking lot - outside of Summer break, of course. As much as he trusted Ringo with almost anything, letting her behind the wheel of his car was not one of those things.

After whining profusely about her complete inability to drive, Steve had finally caved and agreed to teach her. After all, how bad could she have been? Perhaps the fault was with her teacher, rather than her personal ability.

So the very next day, which was a mild Thursday in August, he drove onto a thin, practically empty road that once belonged to the farm it led up to. With the farm house now empty and void of any life, it was the perfect place to allow Ringo to learn some of the basics.

"Oh? Is it? So I should just yank on this if I want to slow down?" She asked falsely innocent, eyes widened as she placed her hand over the metal stick. Steve's nervousness had completely overshadowed him, as he failed to see the joke behind her words.

"No!" He shouted worriedly, shaking his head and batting her hand away. "Never ever pull on this in the middle of a drive! It's an emergency brake!"

"Calm down, Jesus," she scoffed, flipping her hair over one shoulder and returning her hands to the wheel. "You've been spending too much time with Nancy, that's exactly what she sounded like when I told her I borrowed her bra."

"You borrowed her bra?" He echoed, desperately trying to push aside the rising images that came into his brain. "Isn't that gross?"

"That's what she said, but I mean, what's a bra between cousins?" Ringo shrugged carelessly. "If I borrowed Mike's panties then that's a whole different story."

"Okay, concentrate!" He commanded, pointing at the steering wheel with a forceful glint in his eye that made Ringo want to burst out laughing. He was taking the lesson entirely too serious.

"Okay," she agreed, placing her hand on the emergency brake and lowering it finally, the car slowly beginning to roll forward. She beamed brightly at the sensation, it having been a full year since she was last driving.

The previous summer, at least once a week, her father would take her in his car to teach her to drive in dilapidated parking lots. But try as he did, Ringo was a tough cookie to crack. Her driving was once described as, "how a blind person would drive if they were also one-handed".

After the incident that led to her being sent off to Hawkins, the lessons had ceased, and when she returned before Christmas, the hostility between them was no basis for a driving lesson.

The memories that had caught up with her clouded her mind, so she quickly squeezed her eyes shut momentarily and shook her head, willing them away.

"What are you doing?!" Steve bellowed, gripping the door handle tensely, "open your eyes!"

"I was reminiscing!" She shouted back with a roll of her eyes. The car hadn't swayed from its original positioning on the road, nor was there any other car in the distance they could see ahead.

"Remin-" he began, before huffing and cutting himself off, "that's it. Pull over. You're clearly not ready."

"Oh, come on!" She complained. "How am I going to learn if you're not going to be patient with me?"

Steve sighed but stayed silent, watching her every movement carefully as she slowly teetered up the dirt road, giving instructions when necessary.

After a couple of minutes, the distant sound of gravel crunching met her ears and caused her eyebrows to frown in confusion. Ringo's eyes flitted up to the mirror, widening instantly at the sight of a car coming close behind them.

"Oh shit! Steve there's a car! What do I do?" She began to panic. The road wasn't nearly wide enough to pull in, and with the rate she was going, it wouldn't be long before the other driver would lose their patience.

"Crap!" He swore, checking the side mirror and then looking over his shoulder. "Just... drive faster!"

"I can't! I won't be in control of the car then!" She argued back, grip tightening on the wheel. A loud car horn ripped through the silent country air, causing her to jump in her seat.

"Just go!"

"Fine!" Ringo yelled, slamming her foot fully down on the gas pedal, not realising that Steve's car was a little more sensitive than her father's old truck.

The BMW shot off with a jolt, causing the two inside to bounce against the back of their seats. With the shock of the move, Ringo accidentally turned the wheel, causing it to veer off straight into the ditch and for the blonde to scream in surprise.

There was silence in the car for a minute, Ringo staring ahead in shame and mortification, and Steve sitting in shock and fear for what the underside of his car would look like. The vehicle was slanted from the deepness of the ditch, it would be no easy feat finding their way out of it.

Cockily, the car behind overtook within the newly freed road space, revealing an adolescent man in the front seat. He smirked in amusement at Ringo, shaking his head in judgement before speeding off at a pace all too illegal.

"I never trust guys with mullets," she murmured, trying to break the tension. Steve responded by turning his head and glaring at the side of her face. Within seconds, she broke down.

"I'm so sorry! I told you this was a bad idea! I'm a terrible driver and I've probably ruined your car, please don't defriend me!" She begged, turning and physically clasping her hands together under her chin.

"It's... fine," he gritted out, forcing a small smile to ease her conscious.

"....you can be mad," she allowed, screwing up her expression and squeezing her eyes shut in preparation.

The look on her face was enough to dissipate his frustration, even making himself feel guilty for allowing her to think he'd be mad at her. After all, it wasn't Ringo's fault she had the driving capability of a preteen.

"Hey," he caught her attention, smiling gently, "it's okay. We just... need someone to help us push it out of the ditch." The softness of his tone caught her completely by surprise.

"I saw a payphone on the way here, we could call Jonathan? He doesn't live too far away."

"Yeah, okay."

✵

To say that Steve was rather sour-looking when Jonathan arrived with Nancy would be the understatement of the year.

His grin was so forced it was as if he hadn't even tried to conceal it, lips stretched across his cheek so far all his teeth showed. Ringo was forced to play off her snort of laughter with a cough.

"Alright, Nancy you're gonna sit in the driver's side and turn the engine on. Hit the gas when the car starts to move," Steve explained as the brunette clambered inside the slanted driver's seat.

"Why can't I steer?" Ringo whined, trudging towards the rear end of the car where Jonathan and Steve were positioned.

"No offence, Ringo, but I wouldn't let you get behind the wheel again if I was dying in the back seat," Steve fake-smiled again, this time out of pure sarcasm rather than uncomfortableness.

"Fair point," she shrugged, placing her palms against the trunk alongside the two boys'.

"I have a lot more upper body strength, just pointing that out," Nancy called out jokingly from her comfortable position inside the car, switching the engine on.

"Oh yeah? Did you get that from carrying your ego?" Ringo fired back, receiving chuckles in response.

As the engine revved, and with a prompt 'go' from Steve, the trio began to push against the trunk, using all of their strength as Nancy simultaneously pressed down on the gas.

"Keep going! Keep going! Keep going!" Steve pressured, with Jonathan and Ringo sharing a side-glance.

The car began to slowly inch forward, creeping its way up the slanted ditch and onto the road once more.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Steve was still yelling, eliciting a huff from Ringo.

"Jesus! You sound like a cheap porn actor!" She snapped, not receiving the reaction she expected when he turned his head to face her with widened eyes.

"Hey, you watch-"

Before he could finish, the BMW had finally slipped over the harsh edge of the road and back onto the flat surface. But Nancy's pressure on the accelerator caused it to shoot onward and for Ringo to fall forwards with the sudden disappearance of support.

She fell face-first into the muddy ditch, her chin smacking into the dirt and coating the entire front of her body. For a second, she couldn't react - simply staring down at the ground beneath her with an agape mouth and a sore chin.

It was the raucous laughter of Steve and Jonathan that brought her back to reality, and then she let out a loud groan of complaint.

"Fucking hell!" She ranted, her friends doubling over in laughter and completely incapable of helping at that moment. After settling the car onto the road, Nancy exited the driver's seat and rounded the car to inspect the commotion, her hands clapping over her mouth when she saw what it was.

"Why don't you all go shit in your hands and clap!" She raged on, pressing her hands further into the mud to push herself off the ground. Finally snapping out of their stupor, Jonathan and Steve each cupped a hand underneath each of her armpits to help haul her to her feet.

"She looks like the demogorgan," Nancy wheezed, unable to hold in her amusement any longer.

"That'd explain the big mouth," Jonathan commented, surprising them all by his forwardness. Except Ringo - who he had grown closer than ever to over previous weeks.

"Where's my axe?" Ringo grumbled as she whipped her shoulders out of their grip, taking a shaky exhale and straightening her shirt, although it was already destroyed.

✵

Ringo Wheeler was certifiably intoxicated, that much she knew. But in her hazy state, she was so far gone she couldn't even tell how much she had to drink.

The party at Scott Parker's was, in her opinion, unmissable. It would be one of the final parties before the school year began again and their lives would be subjected to torture. Particularly for Ringo and Steve, who were entering their senior year.

Perhaps she had gotten drunker than intended to drown out the guilt in blatantly lying to her mother, by earlier telling her "Jessica's boyfriend dumped her, and a girl's night was desperately needed."

Jessica hadn't even attended the party, refusing to subject herself to it. But Jonathan, Steve and Nancy had. Jonathan was the one who drove her to Scott's house, while Steve took Nancy.

There were three stages to a drunken Ringo Wheeler:

1. Giddily giggling and frequent denials of being tipsy.

2. Dancing provocatively.

3. Throwing up and crying.

Luckily for the rest of the attendants, Ringo was in full swing of phase two, much to the boys of Hawkins High's delight as she moved her hips to the beat of the music.

Steve had lost Nancy minutes before, and stopped searching for her when he noticed Ringo was surrounded by a flurry of men in the centre of the makeshift dance floor. The mere image had set his body alight, all worries of Nancy being replaced with anger at the men who itched to put their hands on her. Steve silently dared them to.

A familiar figure caught his attention in the corner of his eye, looking over he finally found his missing in action girlfriend - who was currently deep in conversation on the couch, with Jonathan Byers. A decision that he wasn't aware he was debating with himself about had been made then, prompting him to turn back towards Ringo's direction and make his way towards her.

A sudden shift in the music as a new song began caused the blissful expression on her face to fall and morph into one of excitement and surprise, her giddy squeals filling the room as she clapped her hands and bounced on her feet.

All eyes cut over to her, watching in amusement as Ringo began to nod her head and stick her foot out, following the steps for The Safety Dance.

Of course, Steve thought, of course she'd have learned it.

She made her way through the dance with a surprising amount of skill, considering she was heavily intoxicated and in heels. Instead of becoming the laughing stock that Nancy had worriedly thought she would from across the room, Ringo had actually spurred on those around her who knew the dance to join in.

"Oh my god, Ringo," Steve barked a laugh when he finally reached her, met with a stern glare from the star herself.

"Get in formation, Harrington!" She commanded, gesturing to his feet. Never in a million years did Steve Harrington think he'd have agreed to a synchronised dance number to one of the world's cheesiest songs. But for Ringo Wheeler? He agreed immediately.

When the song reached halfway, spurred on by her newfound confidence the blonde shakily climbed on top of the coffee table to continue her dance as if she were the lead band member herself. Although the men surrounding her earlier were all but displeased, Steve was left with a rather sour expression.

He told himself over and over he wasn't jealous. Ringo wasn't his property, nor anyone's for that matter, therefore what she did with others was not anyone's business or problem. But the way their eyes lusted after when she was clearly too drunk to fully consent made Steve want punch the daylights out of all of them. Or get his nailed bat.

As the song ended, he pushed through them easily, his basketball muscles helping with that, and holding his hands up to her.

"Come on, Olivia Newton-John, lets get you home."

Ringo giggled and grasped his hands shakily, shockingly she hadn't slipped during her stunt on the table, which was a minor miracle in her state.

On his way out, he cast one last glance back to Jonathan and Nancy as they exchanged words softly, whatever worry they felt for Ringo gone now that Steve was handling it.

It would have been the mature thing to tell her he was walking Ringo home, but there was something in the comfortableness she showed while around Jonathan that saddened him. He knew the Byers boy would have given Nancy a ride home, and would probably thank God for giving him the chance to do it. It was no secret that he liked Nancy, which hadn't truly threatened him until lately, until he noticed Nancy's eyes were bright when they stared at him.

But after dropping his gaze to the blonde who's arm was wrapped securely around his waist, Steve supposed that made him a hypocrite.