Jonathan and Kali don't do Valentine's day. It's not even something they need to discuss: it's a capitalistic consumerist nightmare that revolts them by its nature. They don't do Anti-Valentine's day either — that would mean they're still acknowledging it. No, they do the most punk thing they can do in Hawkins, Indiana.
Benny's Burgers is where all the broke schoolkids go with their dates. It gets crowded, sweaty, hair-sprayed and cologne-drenched teenagers take up usual spots of the tired plant workers, making them gather at the counter and grumble into their beers. Luckily, not all the regulars are there today — some are taking their wives to Enzo's or staying for a home date. It's the grumpy loners that side-eye all the happy couples with the paper heart garlands and pink milkshakes.
— Hey, Benny! Why'd you make your girl work Valentine's, she should be out here in at a table with her boy, – one of the men yells when Benny shows his face from the kitchen, passing Kali two burgers. — Dad teachin' you a lesson or something? What'd you do, doll?
She chuckles, sliding the sudden defender of her right to have Valentine's off his burger and passing the other one into another pair of hard-working cigarette-smelling hands.
— You try makin' her do something, — scoffs Benny, wiping his hands on a towel. — Came to me herself, asked to give her a shift — what am I gonna do, refuse a pair of hands on a busy day? You eat your food and don't start with me, want my daughter to have a good holiday — tip her well, you old geezer.
He disappears, muttering something proud about "raising them right", and the men at the counter cough up gruff chuckles, winking at Kali. The one defending her honour picks up his burger and studies its dripping insides.
— You got in a fight with your boy or somethin'? — he finally asks. Kali shakes her head, withholding an answer until she whips up a perfectly swirled strawberry milkshake with two straws and passes it on to the waitress.
— Me and Jonathan don't need a designated day to prove that we love each other, — she finally indulges the old gossip. — Besides, wouldn't want to leave Dad on his own to deal with all this, right?
She points with her eyes at the Cupid-approved chaos of at least one and a half dozens of dates happening in the booths. The chatter is drowning out any romantic music that might be playing. Kali is secretly betting on a couple breakups judging from the way some of the conversations seem to be going.
— Benny's lucky to have you two angels, — finally mutters the man, not fully satisfied with the lack of juicy gossip, but already feeling mushy from a beer and a nice fat burger in his hands begging to be devoured until only sauce stains in the grey stubble remain.
Kali smiles, pleased, and calls over the waitress to take her place on the floor — poor woman is visibly sweating in her pink blouse from all that running around. They'll be here until late.
Movie theatre is just as busy if not more, tickets for the special romantic program flying out of Jonathan's hands faster than he can process — good thing it's all automated in his brain already. Rushing between the cash register and the ever-ending batches of sweet popcorn, he zones out, not noticing who exactly comes coupled up — a pity, they could've had a nice gossip call later at night with Kali. Red candy wrappers litter the floor like flower petals, rustling under dozens of feet; at least half of them are from the red chocolate roses that were delivered at school today. He didn't get one for Kali, and she didn't get one for him; Jane told them it tasted bad when she briefly joined them at lunch — Dustin sent her one and was disappointed that it turned out to be shit.
— Wow, no date, Byers? That's sad, — he wishes he could ignore that voice too. Tommy's there, plastered all over Carol. She's got another turtleneck on — probably to hide freck hickeys. — Come on, two tickets, some of us have places to be.
— You haven't said which movie, — Jonathan exhales. It's just Tommy and Carol. They don't find him interesting enough to pick on longer than a few seconds — their attention is always snapping back onto each other with their wet sloppy mouths that look permanently sick from all the face sucking. The corner of his mouth twitches; that's a gross thought that he'd rather didn't stuck in his head for too long.
Carol turns her head and she and Tommy look at each other, bursting into snickers, as if Jonathan asked a ridiculous question. There's a line forming.
— Does it matter? — Carol raises her eyebrows, turning back to him, and glances him up and down, like she can't believe how stupid he is. — We're not gonna be watching it. Just give us two seats in the back row, jeez.
He rings them up, Tommy's sweaty — he hopes it's just sweat — fingers snatchig the tickets out of his hand. "Gross," Jonathan just can't help but mutted under his breath — at least he'll now have something to complain about to Kali. His coworker comes up and dumps another oily batch of popcorn into the big tub, sweet warm smell hits Jonathan in the face and almost makes him sick. Crowded line in front of him is growing louder.
A familiar voice pulls him out of the mood.
— Hi, — Jane stares at him with her soulful eyes. Dustin is bouncing on his feet on her one arm. His own little brother is shyly holding her other hand.
— Hey guys, — Jonathan leans over the counter and gives a little smile. — Movie date?
— No, — Jane deadpans. Jonathan stiffles a chuckle at her serious delivery. — Just came to say hi.
— It's a friend-date, — Dustin can't contain it inside; he has to share. — Because it's stupid that someone is left out just because they don't have a partner.
Jonathan notices that familiar red wrapped in Will's pocket — he doesn't call attention to it, but he thinks he knows who it is from.
— We're gonna be at Mike's house, — Will adds quietly. — Mom knows. Can you pick me up after?
He can, and he will — both Will and Jane, full of overpriced candy and inspired after a huge friend-date that the whole Party spends playing D&D. He drives Jane home first, and as she waves goodbye and rushes inside, a dark figure peels off the wall she's been hiding behind to smoke.
— Crazy day, huh? — Kali ducks her head to lean onto Jonathan's open window and nods at Will. — I'll call you? If you're not falling dead asleep.
— I'm not, — he chuckles shyly and fidgets with the steering wheel. — See you tomorrow?
Their kiss is short and sweet, even if it still makes Will gag. Jonathan shushes him to Kali's laughter and drives off.
They barely make it to half an hour on the phone before they both start yawning more than talking. They worked hard, and they earned some money for the discounted sugary candy tomorrow.
