Chapter Text
They’re all staring at me.
It’s morning. I’m dressed, changed, all evidence gone. They sit at the table, eating breakfast. It’s the weekend. They don’t have to rush. Will is quiet, strangely making the decision not to mention the presence of the shadow monster. Joyce is talking about a date with Bob, asking Jonathan if he’ll be fine taking care of things. It’s normal.
Every glance back at me, legs crossed on the couch, feels like an accusation. No one questions why I didn’t join them, nor why I keep glancing towards the window like I’m waiting for an attack. It’s like they know. They don’t. Maybe they do.
Jonathan clears his throat. “Hey, Tina?” he begins, turning around to face me.
I flinch back, nodding. “Uh, yeah?”
“The… Starcourt mall just opened? Nancy and I were planning on checking it out. Will and his friends too. Did you want to join?”
No. I want to go back through the gate. I want to find Henry. “I-”
Joyce brightens. “It will be nice to get out! I hear you haven’t been going to the library recently.”
Why does she know that? I didn’t tell her that. She just goes around questioning where I’ve been? I need to calm down. “Right… um… Yeah, okay. I’ll go.”
Jonathan nods, giving me an odd look. Fuck off. “Cool… We’ll need to drive though. Or take the bus.”
Oh. “Driving is fine.” He knows it isn’t.
“Yeah?” No.
“...mhm.”
“Okay.” He was supposed to know. “Just, uh, let me know if there’s any problems.”
“Mhm.”
He clears his throat, lips parting to say something, but he just shakes his head and turns back to his food. He thinks I’m acting weird. He knows something. No he doesn’t.
…
We head out around eleven. Jonathan with his camera slung across his shoulder and myself with empty, twitching hands stuffed into a sweater too warm for the mid April weather. Will takes off his bike, the very fact leaving me bitter with envy, and waves to us as he leaves. His brother returns the gesture, I stare off into the grass.
There’s a stain of dark red, almost brownish, near a patch of crumpled grass. It’s still wet, a neat splatter that gives everything else away. I feel like I can smell it. It’s the man from the woods, I’m sure. Familiar.
The heat of the sun dims on my back, a slight shadow covering my body, and I turn to see Jonathan leaning over my shoulder. I whip around, startled. I didn’t hear him approach.
He steps back, frowning slightly. “What were you looking at?” He tries to look past me, eyes scanning over the lawn and coming up blank. He doesn’t see anything, of course he doesn’t.
I glance back, no longer able to see it either. “Oh… just some… cool bug. It must’ve flown away or something.”
“Don’t you hate bugs?” It sounds like an accusation. It probably isn’t.
I swallow. “Mostly just spiders. And worms.”
“Oh, okay,” he murmurs, turning away to slip into the driver’s seat of his car.
I take a deep breath, then open the door to the backseat and step in, buckling up my seatbelt. The worn fabric is warm from being outside.
Jonathan glances back quizzically. “Not the passenger seat?”
I shrug, fingers gripping at the black strap meant to keep me from dying. It’s worked so far. Sort of. “Assumed Nancy would want that.”
“Right. Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
I stare at my lap, my heartbeat thudding erratically as I stare at my knees. The left one bobs up and down, accidentally(or maybe subconsciously) to the same rhythm. The engine starts, loud and aggressive, and we start moving down the street. My nails dig into my arms.
“You’re fine back there?” Jonathan asks after a few minutes.
I nod. There’s silence. Right, he can’t see. “Y-yeah…”
“I’ll pull over if it’s too-”
“I’m fine.”
He continues driving, making a few turns before slowing in front of Nancy’s. I look up just as she steps out, moments later. Her hair always seems curlier than the last time I saw her. It’s strange. How does she make it do that?
“Hey, Tina!” she greets, pushing the door open and getting into the passenger seat. “It’s strange to think Hawkins of all places is getting a real mall.”
“Hey,” I murmur, eyes dropping back down when the car starts moving.
Jonathan hums. “It all feels a bit sudden. I guess this is the new mayor’s way of gaining popularity, but… ehh… Didn’t think we had that kind of budget.”
Nancy shrugs. “Some sort of sponsor or donor, maybe? I wonder if I could get an interview with the mayor.” She glances back at me. “Ever since Jonathan and I released that story about the lab, I’ve felt so drawn to journalism. I feel like there’s too much lying, too much political bullshit.”
I try to meet her gaze, vision straying to the wide expanse of road just past her head. Nausea seizes in my gut, something sour building on the back of my tongue. I grip the seatbelt, nodding shakily and trying to keep my eyes locked on hers.
She frowns. “Oh right. Cars.”
“I’m fine,” I repeat.
Jonathan sighs. “We’re almost there. Just don’t look at the road.”
“...trying to…” I hiss.
Nancy straightens, turning back towards the front. “Shouldn’t you have similar fears, Jonathan? You were there too.”
“Neccesity trumps fear, I guess. Can’t do anything without driving.”
“So you are scared?”
He pauses for a second, considering. “Not really. Maybe it’s different when I was the one driving–or just because I got out fine.”
Must be nice.
Their conversation drifts off after that. Talk of university and summer jobs. They seem so… normal. If someone looked at them, they’d see a cute, high school couple. No sign of the monsters they fought.
Could anyone tell what happened to me?
I think maybe. Not the specifics, just the knowledge that it must’ve been something. Is it comforting to not have all that brushed away, or burdening to have it clinging to my skin? Who knows. Not me, certainly. There must be someone who’s researched this. A psychologist? Philosopher?
The car halts to a stop, a sudden jolt that sends my skull into the headboard, into the wheel, straight through the front window in a spray of glass. I blink, the seatbelt digging into me for a moment before my back hits the seat, returning to normalcy. I don’t move, breathing deeply, trying not to throw up.
The car door opens, Nancy offering me a hand out. I take it. Her palm is warm, the skin soft, nice to the touch. I stumble against her shakily, trying to regain my balance.
“Wow… It’s…” she mutters.
I turn, eyes widening at the huge building with the big glowing sign. “Yeah.”
The parking lot is almost full, everyone excitedly heading towards the entrance. I don’t let go of Nancy’s arm, the three of us following the mob. I peel my eyes away from the mall, noticing the stream of trucks heading along back. Bringing in materials and stock for the various stores, I assume.
Looks like there might still be some construction going on. They really couldn’t wait to get this place opened. I guess if they’ve spent so much money on building it, they want to start making returns on that investment as soon as they can.
I’m pulled in through the front door, shoulder to shoulder with a few dozen other teenagers, grown adults, and elderly people wanting to explore the shops. It’s all crowds and talking and bright lights and loud music. The excitement in the air is thick and sweet, smelling of fast food, soft drinks, and whatever else is being served in the food court mixed with whichever chemicals were in the wall’s last coat of paint.
The names of the stores are mostly unfamiliar. Barely anything that I remember from Hawkins, but a few brands I’d heard about in passing. Everything feels new, sleek and plasticky. Expensive too, if the prices displayed in big letters can in any way be compared to the items sold at Joyce’s work. If they were so insane, I’d have thought they’d want to keep them hidden, but maybe not.
Neither Jonathan or Nancy seem particularly interested, quickly making their way to a less populated corner, myself in tow. We exchange glances.
“It’s alright..” Nancy begins slowly. “Could be nice on a less busy day.”
“Yeah… Let’s go through the stores and see what there is. I need to find some job for the summer.”
“You’re not getting enough from Dr. Owens?”
He glances at me, an incomprehensible furrow of the brows, then clears his throat. “It’s good to get work experience.”
She nods, satisfied with his response, but her eyes drift to me as well, as if sensing something beneath his words. The way their eyes dart between each other feels like some sort of hidden language that I can’t decipher. All I know is that some sort of blame has been passed onto me and I don’t know why.
I’m usually able to decipher his intentions. It’s weird that I can’t, like he’s purposefully hiding something from me. Anytime I expressed worry over being some sort of burden on the family, he’d brushed the concerns aside, yet now he seems to be acting like I’m someone he now needs to pay for? If he was so upset over it, he could make me get my own job, I certainly have enough time on my hands, yet instead he decides to passively begin to resent me?
Has he been lying to me, then?
I’m pulled from my thoughts by a light tugging on my wrist. Nancy smiles at me, gesturing towards the escalator. Fine, just act like nothing happened. How fun, to look at stores and pretend you don’t hate me. The two of them walk and talk, my hand staying lightly held in her grip, as if she’s worried I’ll run off.
They don’t try to include me in the conversation, letting me drag along like a burden they need to keep an eye on. One would think I was interfering with their date, that I’d inserted myself into their space like an unwanted child. I’ve never felt so much like a ‘third-wheel’--a term I remember Will using when he once tried hanging out with just Mike and Eleven.
Yet Jonathan invited me here himself. He’s forced me into this uncomfortable position when all I wanted was to go out on my own, to see my d- to see Henry again.
The two of them stop suddenly and I nearly walk into Nancy’s shoulder. She has an amused smile on her face, letting go of my hand to gesture at the shop next to us.
Scoops Ahoy
Ice Cream Parlour
Opening Soon!
Help needed.
Request an interview with the number below:
The sign is decorated with an anchor and the interior coloured a bright blue, just to increase the ship theme. There’s still some boxes at the back, but the walls and floor look finished and some of the tables have been set up. At one of them, a well-dressed man seems to be seriously questioning some pretty girl my age. Despite fidgeting with her hands, she seems to be talking pretty confidently.
“You did say you needed a job,” Nancy says teasingly.
He looks skeptical. “I was thinking of some place where I could use my camera?”
“Aw, come on. You don’t want to dress in a cute uniform and serve ice cream all day? You just need a big, customer-service smile.”
“Right… Why don’t we keep looking…”
“Do you want to head back down to the food court? It’s getting close to lunch time.” Already? How long has it been?
He nods, finally glancing over at me. “Sound good, Tina?”
I blink. “Oh. Yeah.”
His lip curls down almost imperceptibly, his face taking on a look of disappointment, or maybe concern. He glances at Nancy, the two resuming their telepathic conversation that I, despite being the only one here with actual telepathy, cannot figure out.
“What?” I snap.
“Are you feeling okay?” he asks slowly. “Did the car-?”
“I’m fine. I just- I-” I want to go home. I want to get away from you. I want to be alone. I want Henry. “I need some air. It’s stuffy in here with all the people.”
“Oh, yeah. Good idea. We can-”
“I’ll meet you at the food court.”
I turn without waiting for an answer, melting into the crowd. It’s somehow even louder, my mind no longer stuck in my thoughts nor focused on their conversation. My attention keeps jumping between the various side conversations happening around me. None of the voices are familiar, so clearly Jonathan and Nancy took the opportunity to spend time together.
I stumble among the people, keeping my side close to the wall just to avoid being surrounded. Finally, I’m spit out into a corner near the doors. The ground is somehow dirty and too clean at the same time, sticky under my feet like someone spilled their drink, but still glistening. I sit down anyway.
Knees pulled up to my chest, I watch the groups of people pass by me, listening to the bits of sentences and laughter. There’s a steady stream of people entering and leaving, deterring me from actually exiting the doors so tantalizingly close. I can’t seem to bring myself to re-enter the fray.
No one notices me, which is nice. I blend in well with the furniture, or something. There’s a bench not too far, which seems to have been filled past what I imagine to be maximum capacity. I didn’t even realize there were this many people in Hawkins, but I guess anyone even vaguely nearby is taking the opportunity to see a ‘real mall’.
My chin rests on my knees, vision blurring with exhaustion. I should’ve just said no to Jonathan. Said I wasn’t feeling well, or didn’t want to have to drive, or just had other things to do. I wonder if he would’ve been relieved, if asking me was some sort of courtesy.
I feel bad for imagining him so unfavourably.
I pick at the skin around my fingers, eyes drifting shut. I don’t fall asleep, just sit there, distracted by the feeling in the back of my head. Like something crawling around in my skull, dulling my senses. Soon I realize I can’t hear any more voices, can’t smell that thick mix of oil, sugar, and sweat, can’t feel the stuffy warmth of too many bodies pressed together.
It’s a relief.
It’s strange.
Why is it so cold?