"No, Jim, I don't know how long, at least until December. Why are you asking all these questions now? I thought custody was all you ever wanted." Mum screeched into the phone.

I knew she wasn't really mad at Dad, she was mad at me. My Aunt Salma had thrown me out of her home — after I'd been living with her for almost a whole year — two days before school started. So, now my mum was scrambling to see who to send me away to.

You're probably wondering, why doesn't your own mother want you to live with her? Well, friends, the answer to that question is both simple and deeply complicated at the same time. My mum didn't want me to live with her because she didn't like being reminded of her old life. Sure, when Dad and her had first gotten divorced she had fought tooth and nail for full custody of me and when she got it immediately moved me far away from my father, but as soon as her first kid with her new husband was born, something shifted in our relationship, she had finally gotten everything she wanted. Again. And I didn't quite fit into the perfect family equation this time.

My mum had given many reasons why to send me away, she was way too busy with her cushy job and now two small children, to look after me (and of course, her practically ignoring my existence made us clash more than a few times), she also claimed she wanted me to improve my Spanish, which was kind of a dumb reason to send your kid away for an indefinite amount of time. But the woman called her sister, Salma, the only one of her sisters who lived in Mexico, and arranged for me to stay with her.

The only reason why I had been reluctant to leave at first was that I actually did like my siblings and definitely wanted to be in their lives, but it wasn't like my mother gave me much of a choice.

After a year, I had become actually quite acclimated with the country, I'd been there before, sure, but it was different actually living there. I quite liked my school (it was far better than the one in London), and I had developed a trusty group of friends. And then came Paulina, and the incident.

Technically, it all started on late May of this year. Pau and I had been pretty good friends since I'd moved to the city, but it took us that long to realise that we liked each other. We went on two dates before the summer and we kissed once. That's it. Then I went away for three months. So you could tell, it wasn't exactly the most serious relationship.

Either way, I did really like Pau, that's why on the very first day I was back in town, before I did anything else, I met with Pau and we just hung out for a few hours, then she walked me home, and since I hadn't seen her in so long I was feeling kind of brave and planted a kiss on her right at the porch of my aunt's house. Little did I know that my aunt had been watching from one of the second storey windows.

Listen, I did know my aunt was homophobic, that's why I knew it wasn't a good idea to kiss a girl out in the open where she might see me, but I wasn't thinking straight at the moment. Pun intended. Besides, what's done is done.

Luckily Pau had already left by the time my aunt had made it downstairs, opened the door and started yelling in my face. "¡Esas cosas son del diablo! ¿Cómo the atreves a cometer tales pecados bajo mi techo? ¡Después de todo lo que he hecho por ti!" This is the work of Satan! How dare you commit such sins under my roof? After everything I've done for you! She'd even thrown in a slap to get her point across.

Although all her yelling was pretty scary, the thing that she had said to me that actually shook me to the core because I had not seen it coming, was what she said to me after her sermon was done. In a quiet icey voice and an even icier gaze that made me feel like I meant absolutely nothing to her, she said, "Don't bother unpacking, you're back to London tomorrow."

And back to London I was. My mother was upset I'd done something to make my aunt throw me out, but I had no idea if she was upset at the action itself. Honestly, it was kind of killing me not to know, but knowing her, we'd probably never talk about it.

"Alright, her flight leaves tomorrow at 4AM and arrives at 4PM Hawkins time. Bye, Jim." Diane slammed down the phone in its base.

It was a done deal then, I guess. I was going to live with my father for the first time in five years.

๑ ❥ ๑

Twelve hour flights were not pretty, especially when you'd had another twelve hour flight just two days prior. But my mum had surely given me something to think about during it.

As we had pulled up to the airport, I'd gotten off the car without a word, and as we said our goodbyes, my mum went quiet for a few seconds, then she took my hand and said, "I'm not mad."

Then she drove off, because of course, her busy schedule could never allow her to make time for her to actually walk me all the way to the gate.

I knew it shouldn't mean a lot to me. She was a pretty absent parent, and a long time ago I decided that it meant pretty much nothing what she thought of my sexuality. But then as I felt a tear fall down my cheek, I knew that I was kidding no one. I most definitely cared.

I knew Mum hadn't told Dad the whole story about what happened at my Aunt's, and I really was not sure if I'd ever tell him. I mean, I loved my father, but he had grown up in a very small town in the Midwest.

"Rory!"

I turned to see my father rushing down the terminal with a big smile on his face. He hugged me so enthusiastically that he picked me right off the ground.

"Hi, Daddy." I said in a choked tone, and he finally let me go.

My father was a very imposing man, even more so when he was wearing his police uniform. I didn't really look a lot like him, I only wished I had inherited some of his tallness.

I held onto my dad's arm as he led me to his truck. The absolute worst part about getting off the twelve hour flight was knowing a two hour car ride awaited me before we got home. Curse you, Hawkins, for being so small.

Dad and I made small catch up talk for the first few minutes, but I could tell he was stressed out about something, I didn't say anything though.

It wasn't until we had maybe a half hour more to go on the road that Dad sighed deeply, turned to me and said, "Before we get home, I need to talk to you about something."

I frowned. "Okay."

He shifted in his seat. "Uh remember how last year we had some strange disappearances in Hawkins?"

"Yeah, wasn't it the first time you had to do actual policework in Hawkins?"

He ignored my teasing. Rude. "And remember how it all had to do with this government scientific organisation testing out drugs?"

"Yeah." Where the hell was he going with this?

"Well, while we investigated all of this we realised that there were there was this kid who they were experimenting on in their facilities. We managed to rescue her, but they might come looking for her, and her parents are gone." He took a pause.

Wait.

"So, she's been staying with me for the past few months." Dad concluded.

I gave him a look. "So you're telling me that you adopted a child? That is so cute, oh my god I'm crying."

He looked at me and frowned. "You're not crying."

"I'm crying internally!"

"What does that even mean?"

I shook my head. "It doesn't matter. The point is, I have a little sister now! Why hadn't you told me?"

"Well, I wouldn't say I've adopted adopted her. She's just staying with me indefinitely and I've been acting as a parental figure. And I didn't tell you because it wasn't a good idea to talk about this on the phone." He explained.

Who was he kidding though?

"Wait a minute, are all three of us going to fit in the trailer?" I didn't mind my father's mobile home, but two people in there was already a little tight.

"No, we've been staying at your grandpa's old cabin in the woods."

Oh. "What's my new sister's name?"

He sighed. "Uhh."

Did he not know? What the fuck? "That's a nice name."

He gave me a parental look. "These scientists kind of took her when she was a baby, and her whole life they only called her Eleven, and she doesn't remember her real name."

"So you just call her Eleven?"

"I usually call her El."

"Oh, that's cute. So, she must be fairly traumatised, by what you've said."

"Yes, she definitely is. She doesn't speak much, so don't crowd her. She can be a little... complicated." He explained.

I nodded and tried to give my dad a comforting smile. "I'll try my best."