Chapter Text
This was going to be fine. I’d started new schools before; one approximately every year for as long as I could remember. Sometimes even twice a year if the need arose.
There was just one difference this time around. It was my senior year.
Senior year was usually the time when every student knew exactly who they were, where they belonged, and who their friends were. I had none of those things. I didn’t know who I was. I didn’t know where I belonged. I most definitely did not have friends.
A long time ago, somewhere between the ages of eight and ten, I’d made what I thought was a seemingly mature decision not to get attached to anyone. Only now, it seemed to be biting me in the ass. There was no one from the multiple schools I’d attended that I had latched onto or could depend on.
My mother was a lost cause. She’d abandoned ship a few years back and found herself a sparkly new family, popped out a couple of extra kids and married some guy who ran his own company. Outside of birthdays and Christmas, she didn’t call. She left me with my father. A man I barely knew considering he’d spent most of my life working away. According to him, that was all going to change.
He’d retired from the army and apparently, he had a good feeling about Hawkins.
I did not share the same good feeling.
Just twelve months.
Twelve months and I’d be free to go wherever I wanted.
As long as I didn’t fuck it all up, again.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to drop you off? It’s no problem,” my dad asked with raised eyebrows, his bright blue eyes, identical to mine, were wide with concern.
I shook my head. “I’ll be fine. I need to figure out how to get around, remember?”
“Ah yes,” he replied with a disheartened chuckle. “Your routine.”
I spun my school bag onto my shoulders and tucked a stray strand of dark hair that had slipped out of my high ponytail behind my ear. “I’ve done it on the first day of school every time we’ve moved. Why would I stop now?”
“I suppose,” he flinched, wrinkling his nose. A habit I’d, unfortunately, picked up in childhood. Like a nervous tick.
“I’m going to look for a job after school, remember.”
Dad nodded once. “You know I could just increase your allowance, honey.”
I slipped my feet into a pair of well-worn Converse and shoved the laces down against my ankles. “I like having a job. It fills the time.”
“Just be back by dark,” he added with a tight-lipped smile.
“Sure thing, Dad,” I called, edging out of the door and letting it slam shut behind me.
We’d driven around a little yesterday when we arrived in town. It had taken us a little over thirty minutes for him to point out all the sights Hawkins had to offer. A video store, a record store, a library and eventually, the high school.
My feet carried me of my own accord out of our cul-de-sac and along the main road that travelled through Hawkins. I slipped on my headphones and clicked play, hoping to drown out the rush of traffic at my side. Home Sweet Home by Motley Crue filled my ears and I settled into a slow stride, tugging at the waistband of my high-rise acid wash mom jeans, and tightening the black leather belt on instinct. I’d erred on the side of caution for my first day, pairing the jeans with a basic black t-shirt and a couple of simple silver necklaces. I’d bundled my dark wavy hair into a messy ponytail, having been unable to find my hairdryer in the numerous cardboard boxes littering my bedroom.
Luckily, it was pretty warm for the time of year, which was lucky considering I’d forgotten to pick up my jacket on the way out of the house.
Hawkins High came into view after just twenty minutes of walking. If I had to guess, I’d say the school was about a mile and a half away from our new house.
My feet halted their movements just before the road led down a small slope towards the entrance and I studied the place with morbid curiosity. It didn’t look any different to the other High Schools I’d attended over the last few years. Even all the students looked the same. Some preppy, some nerdy, some so vanilla-normal that I swear I’d seen them before.
An obnoxious car horn sounded behind me and I all but leapt out the same, catching the toe of my converse on the sidewalk and hurtling to the cement.
“Watch it!” A disembodied voice yelled from the car as it passed, parking in a nearby space before at least four Jocks piled out of the doors.
“Dick’s,” I muttered, picking up my now broken-up Walkman and ramming it into my backpack.
“You okay?” A voice sounded from behind me, a lanky guy with dark hair and a shorter, smiling guy with a cap on was standing at my side. They were younger than my nineteen years and I could practically feel the nervous energy trickling from them.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied with a groan as I pushed myself up to my feet. I ran my hands down my jeans, brushing away the dust from the roadside.
“Don’t mind those guys,” the shorter one said with a warm smile.
The lankier of the two butted in, “They’re like that with everyone.”
“Yeah, I’ve met plenty of guys just like them,” I said, pushing my arms through the straps of my bag and hiking it higher up my back.
“I’m Dustin,” one of them said, his smile widening. “This is Mike.”
“Ripley,” I replied. “I’m going to be late. Thanks for… giving a shit, I guess.”
***
The first few hours of the day came and went with little excitement. I hadn’t spotted the jerks that almost run me over in the hallway, which came as a welcome relief. But I knew that the most difficult part of the day was swiftly coming up.
Lunch.
There was no doubt in my mind I’d end up finding an empty table, somewhere near the trash and sit there alone. And thanks to the incident this morning, listening to my Walkman wouldn’t be an option to fill the silence.
I stood in line with the rest of the students, choosing a lacklustre-looking meatloaf, an apple and a bottle of water in the hope that I wouldn’t get food poisoning on my very first day. My eyes raked over the lunch hall and right enough, when I spotted the empty table I made a B line right towards it.
Sitting down on the bench, I pulled out my Walkman and started attempting to put it back together again. The cassette would likely never play again, having been squished beneath my backside this morning, but the rest was salvageable but I’d need to borrow some tools from my dad to fix it properly. I put the task on the back burner and picked up my apple, taking a bite of it as I studied the occupants of the lunch hall.
A table for band nerds.
A table for cheerleaders.
A popular table.
A not-so-popular table.
And eventually, my eyes settled on the table of Jocks in their Letterman jackets.
They didn't hold my attention for long though. Not when I shifted my focus to a table on the far side of the hall where someone was talking animatedly. Almost loud enough for me to hear. I got bits and pieces but couldn’t quite make sense of the conversation.
His dark eyes were round with enthusiasm, and long, wavy brown hair cascaded down his shoulders, a stark contrast to the white of his baseball-style top. His heavily ringed fingers toyed with the ends of his hair, tugging and pulling this way and that as he spoke.
My stomach did a little flip.
Oh, this couldn’t happen.
I was only here for a year and then I was out. Leaving. Disappearing into the unknown never to be seen in Hawkins again. I didn’t have time for this weird, stomach-flipping feeling, or the warmth that spread to my freckled cheeks.
It took all of my strength to pull my attention away from the guy and back to my sad-looking lunch. I rolled the apple from hand to hand, trying to distract myself but just a minute later and my eyes had unashamedly moved back to the metalhead at the table.
Only this time, his brow was furrowed, and his eyes were staring right back at me.