Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Junior Year - 1984
Walking down the halls of Hawkins High School, I try to keep to myself as the hoards of students seem to be coming my way. It's the end of the day, so it makes sense everyone's trying to leave. However, all I want to do is find an abandoned classroom and cry so Billy doesn't have to pressure me into telling him what's wrong. Then he goes off on a rampage against whoever made me or Max upset. The theory going between Max and me right now is that he does it to get his dad off his back.
Currently, I’m worried about how Chelsea is going to react if she finds out about all of this. She was the one social worker with whom I wouldn't throw a tantrum during the process of me being adopted. We grew a close connection, so she made weekends every few months to come and visit me wherever I was, and it just so happened this weekend was that weekend.
As far as I was told, my biological mother gave me up at birth, putting me in the system for 2 years and spitting me out into the lap of the Mayfield's. A year later, Max came along. The first time she had hurt herself as a baby, there was something in me that grew to always protect her no matter what. We were there for each other when it mattered most. Sure, we would fight on stupid shit, but in the end, we usually ended up driving out to the coast to talk it out.
Then Mom and Dad got divorced. Then Mom met Neil. Then Max and I tried to sneak out to Dad’s house. That night ended with a year-long grounding and the police. I remember how Billy was when we first met him. Not such the asshole he is today. Still was holding onto a little bit of kindness before his father took it out of him.
Now, why am I on the verge of tears? Apparently, Dad doesn’t want to see me or Max again this summer and called to make some bullshit excuse like he does every year. Watching the disappointment on Max’s face each year when I have to tell her we can’t go hurts. What hurts even more now is that she doesn’t care anymore. I haven’t bothered to prepare in years. It hurts more because I was that naive to believe it when he started promising shit the last time I called.
Finally, I found the classroom I usually go to cry for stupid things. It took a good solid 15 minutes before I regained my composure to go and drive home. There were still some kids lingering in the halls, but not many. Hopefully, none of them would pull me away to yell insults at me, just like they would at least 4 times a week since I moved here. The only time they actually punched me, Billy saw the mark and proceeded to do that to them until their nose was broken. From then on it was just empty threats and harassing comments about my past.
I didn’t see anyone by my car, so I didn’t feel stressed about walking over there. About 2 steps after leaving the safety of the school, I feel a tight grip on my arm and my head hit the brick of the wall. Shit.
“Did you really think you’d get away that easily, Mayfield?”
“We haven’t even begun on this week's news.”
“Is it true you slutted around again, this time with Brooks of all people?”
And here’s the group that torments me on about a daily basis. It mainly consists of the popular kids, run by their fearless leader, Steve Harrington, King of Hawkins High, who consecutively just stands in the back and waits for everything to be over. Staring competitions with him are fun while they call me degrading names and say the same shit over and over.
“Plus, we don’t even know what you could be doing behind the scenes at home. Maybe with someone named Bi-” I then proceeded to slap that bitch in the face.
“You bring him up again and I swear you’ll get a lot worse than a bruise on your face.”
“Would you rather we bring up the little brat instead. The one that insists on following you around like a puppy dog outside of school. Isn’t her name Max." And that's when I lost it. I punched him in the face just like how Billy showed me. Oops.
As he falls to the ground, one of the other kids slaps me harder than I thought she had in her. I sweep her feet and break out of the circle they had made around me, running towards a hiding place.
I make it back inside and get ice from the nurse, saying I tripped as I was walking to my car. I hold the ice to the spot on my cheek where the girl slapped me, relishing in the numbing feeling coming over my cheek. Maybe Billy won't notice it seeing as the swelling is going down. As I breach the doors I originally left from, I notice a figure leaning on the hood of my car. Great.
When I get closer, I can make out it's the one and only, Steve Harrington. Fantastic. He seems to be enamored with the cracked, uneven cement beneath the cars. No wonder the nurse believed me when I said I tripped.
"If you're here to gloat about the hit you guys got on me, better get it over with before I accidentally run you over."
I stand about 5 feet away from him, swinging my keys on one finger. He chuckles a little and scoots over, offering me to stand next to him. I reluctantly do so, only because he brought more ice and the bag the nurse gave me is turning to water quickly. I trade bags with him and stare at the student entrance to the school.
"It might not seem like it, but I don't really enjoy watching my fellow peers go around bullying people." He finally says.
"Shocking. Couldn't tell, especially with your silence throughout my turns with them. Also, I'm ahead in winning our staring competition. By about 5-ish rounds." I crack a smile and turn to look at him, surprised to find him already looking at me. He smiles too for a second and looks away.
"I'm here to try and basically say sorry for what those assholes have been doing. I couldn't really say anything while they were still wanting to torment you cause, y'know-"
"Didn't want to lose your place in the school hierarchy?" I cock an eyebrow, already knowing the answer.
"Well… yeah pretty much. It works to my advantage when I need it to. If I'm going to be honest, I don't even like being where I am now. Realized there's more to life than this." We stand for a solid moment before I burst out laughing.
"As much as I appreciate your rendition of an apology and some words of wisdom, I have to head home, Harrington." I pat his shoulder and go to unlock my car.
"I do mean it. They're assholes. Don't let them get to you, Y/N." Holy shit, he knows my name?
"How the hell do you of all people know my name?" He just smiles and says, "See you around Mayfield." Weird.
When I return home, I quickly head to my room to avoid confrontation with Billy or Mom. My cheek isn't too red or puffy, so I can play it off like I hit my face on something or cover it with makeup. My doors opens and slams shut as Max comes in and lays on my bed, sighing heavily
"Billy's trying to dictate my life again." She starts as she rants about her day. I like hearing her just talk about what's going on in her life. Makes me feel like I can be there for her. I lay next to her on my bed to close my eyes for a few minutes before I have to start getting ready for Chelsea to get here.
The next few hours go by in a blur. Chelsea gets to the house just in time so there's a nice period of time for us two to just talk. We talk about my time at school, the very few friends I've made, the kids who are harassing me, etc. I told her about what happened this afternoon and the weird conversation I had with Steve and how he was actually being nice to me. When I tell her that, she just starts laughing, and I can't tell if it's at me or at my story. I just have the feeling in the back of my mind she isnt telling me something about it.
Dinner goes by fast. My main goal I made about an hour ago is to try and relax by reading a book and listening to some of my favorite songs without hassle. Clearly that was too much to ask for. Mom keeps coming in and asking if I have something, Billy being an annoying person and asking me to cover for him a bunch of nights when he wants to sneak out, and Max coming in to bring back some of my clothing and take different pieces with her.
When I wake up, the only image in my mind is the face of the only person who's apologized to me about bullying me and meant it. It's in my mind all weekend, taunting me. The one question I ask myself about seems to go unanswered: Why?