Hello, again!
Thank-you so much for the kind reviews, follows, and favorites you all bestowed upon me! I'm so excited to be posting chapter two of When In Hawkins.
I've got a decent portion of this story written, so I'll attempt to keep to a regular updating schedule. I should be posting on Fridays, so keep an eye out.
I hope you begin to like Meg more as I begin to flesh her out in the next couple of chapters. If you have any thoughts, suggestions, or theories, feel free to drop them in a review or a message! I love to hear from you; any feedback is greatly appreciated!
Warnings: There are some insults and slurs in this chapter. None of them are any worse than what is shown in the TV show, but I thought I'd let you know ahead of time. Just to be clear, I do not agree with the racial and sexual insults/views stated by the characters in this. I've used them here as an attempt to convey the nature of these characters.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, save for Meg, Claudia, and the few minor characters smattered throughout.
Enjoy!
"Mom, I don't need a ride to school."
From her room, Megan could hear Dustin protesting Claudia's suggestion that he let Meg drive him to school. Claudia made it out like Meg would be doing Dustin the favour, but Meg suspected that her aunt didn't want her to get lost on her first day. It was an amusing thought. Megan had lived in a much bigger city than this and had always known exactly where she was. If there was one thing her father had taught her, it was to be aware of her surroundings.
Over the weekend, Megan had taken the time to sit and pour over a map of Hawkins. She traced the street lines with her finger, committing each marking to memory. Her deft hands rotated the map so that she was familiar with each direction and could find anything in the town from anywhere in the town. Names floated through her mind, each carefully filed away. Hawkins High, Hawkins Middle School, the library, a Radio Shack. Her eyes followed a road which led into the woods. There was a long railroad track snaking through the trees. Several areas within the woods caught her eye. A large lake, a clearing for a junk yard, and a street that led to a large, unmarked area. Someone had used red pen to scrawl the words 'the lab' over the area. Meg's eyes had narrowed when she'd spotted it. Must be the place Dustin had mentioned.
So on her first Monday in Hawkins, Megan was more than prepared to find her way around this tiny town. She definitely didn't need her wastoid cousin to show her around, and she definitely didn't want to spend more time with him than necessary. The two had studiously avoided each other for the past two days. The only interaction they had was to ask the other to pass the salt and occasionally share a glance when their mothers were being particularly embarrassing. Other than that, they barely acknowledged each other's existence.
Megan tuned out the voices of her relatives. Instead, she focused on the mirror in front of her. Her calculating eyes roamed her figure. Her white sneakers, laced with double knots. Her denim, high-waisted jeans. Her white and red striped sweater beneath her prized possession: a large denim jacket with brass buttons. Meg nodded to herself. It was a coordinated, tasteful ensemble. On trend, but not so fashionable as to stand out in the small-town high school. It was exactly what she had been aiming for when she'd pieced the outfit together last night.
She took a moment to run her fingers through her dark hair and adjust her bangs. Her hair laid in thick waves stopping just at her shoulders, despite the fact that large, wild curls were all the rage. Almost all of her friends in Indianapolis sported them, but Meg had never attempted them. Something about the permanence of a perm was off-putting to her. Besides, she had watched her friends spend ages pinning their curls into place and dousing them with enough hair spray to choke a man. She much preferred being able to run a brush through her thick hair and move on.
Her reflection frowned at her. Her eyes looked as though each of her thoughts was swirling around in their dark pools. She was starting at a new school half-way through her senior year. She had moved to a new town only to live in it for a few months before she left for college. She was living with two hyper-emotional women and one smart-aleck kid. This whole thing was ridiculous and counter-productive. On top of that, she was nervous. It was stupid to worry about what these people would think of her when she'd only be around them for one semester. And yet, that tight feeling of anxiety was wrapped around her lungs.
Looking into her black eyes, Meg took a deep, calming breath before addressing herself. "You look good. You're prepared. You're smart. Go out there and kill 'em."
With that, she grabbed her bag, her car keys, and her prized possession and strode out of her room.
Dustin had ended up getting his way and was coasting down the driveway on his bicycle when she made it to the door. After reassuring her aunt that she would be just fine, Meg waved goodbye to her mother and left the Henderson's stuffy house.
She did, in fact, know her way around. She had even left early to allow for any potential complications. Meg planned a course through the town before leaving the driveway, and followed it directly to the gas station.
There were two pumps, and one was occupied by a beat-up beige truck with Hawkins Police Department spread across its side. There was a man sitting inside, talking on a CV radio. A small, blank face peered at Meg from behind the passenger's window. Brown doe-like eyes watched her as she began to fill her car's tank. Meg raised an eyebrow at her. The kid blinked and turned away.
Inside, Meg tossed a pack of gum onto the counter and paid the cashier. She opened the pack and slid a piece into her mouth as the cashier dug her thick fingers into the register. "Two-seventy change," the woman droned.
Meg reached her hand out, but faltered when the sound of a revving engine and a blaring horn reached them. In the parking lot, the nose of a blue Camaro was nearly pressed flush to her car's bumper. Its driver gave two more blasts of his horn. Meg's features tightened and settled into a glare. Pocketing her change, she exited the store in long strides. The police truck was gone and the second pump was free. If he was in this much of a hurry, he easily could have drove around and used the other pump. Instead, this jerk was practically running her car over.
As she approached, the young guy rolled his window down and gave her a sleazy look. He probably wore his stringy mullet and unbuttoned shirt to be enticing, but to Meg they only triggered warning bells. "You took your time, princess."
Megan swung her car door open and shot him an icy look. "Any chance to inconvenience a dirt-bag."
His features turned livid and he leaned farther out of his window. "Maybe next time I'll-"
She slid into her car and slammed her door shut before he could finish. He laid on his horn again as she began to pull away. In her rear-view mirror, she could see him holding a single finger out to her.
Great start to the day, she thought.
Hawkins High School was much smaller than Megan's previous school, but it wasn't very different. It was made of the same brown brick. It welcomed the same type of hormonal, reluctant teenagers. It encouraged the same awkward, stifling atmosphere. She decided that no matter what city or town it was in, every high school was oppressive.
Megan was early by a few minutes. Enough time to park, talk herself into going through with the school day, and find the counsellor's office. Sitting in her car, she stared at the kids walking into the building. Whether they were walking in groups or as individuals, they all seemed to move at the same sluggish pace. Meg was reminded of ants crawling along, each following the one in front, all giving off the sense of scattered purpose. It was mindless. It was highly likely that none of them wanted to be there – some of them would probably end up leaving – but they still filed into the school. They lived under an expectation of the mundane.
Heaving a breath, Meg picked her bag up off of the seat next to her. Enough nihilistic musing, she told herself. Even if it seemed pointless, she was here for a reason. It was just another step in the plan.
She exited her car, locked it, and started towards the school's entrance. Her pace wasn't relaxed or hurried; her strides were even and purposeful. She was careful to keep her shoulders straight and her face blank. Kids passed her without a second glance. She blended easily into the crowd. Her eyes picked out the people around her which were likely to be in her grade, then noted which of them seemed like people she'd be okay with engaging with, and those which she definitely wanted to avoid. It was a subconscious task, a habit she had developed somewhere along the way. The subtle weighing-up of the people around her, casting swift but fair judgment. Sometimes she didn't even realise she was doing it.
As she reached the middle of the parking lot, a commotion to her left caught her attention.
"What's this, Byers? New porn?" A group of guys were standing near a car, facing a boy with shaggy hair and tired eyes. Meg slowed her pace as she observed them.
The boy seemed to be clutching a stack of photographs, defending them against these obvious bullies. One of the guys managed to snatch one, and Meg frowned. Not only was it mean, but he had clearly just crumpled the picture's edge. "I bet it's all of your slut girlfriend," the bully sneered.
"I bet they're of all sorts of women," another boy jeered. "Old women. Blacks. You probably get off looking at them, creep."
The boy made protests, but was roughly shoved back by two much larger guys. Although he looked upset and angry, there was also a tiredness to his movements, a resigned sort of acceptance. Even as his fists were curled, his shoulders were slumped, as though this was nothing new. As though he had come to expect such harassment.
When the boy made to snatch back one of the pictures, a tall jock-looking guy gripped his arm and pulled it backwards. The boy gave a low noise of pain, but ceased to protest.
As she watched, Megan felt a heat curl within her. A strong, harsh memory surfaced. The sounds of a scuffle and disgusting slurs being thrown like stones. The ache in her knuckles from clutching cold steel. The sight of dripping blood.
With her jaw clenched, she stomped up to the group of boys. When she was near enough to smell the odour often associated with teenage boys, the voice of her mother rang in her ears. Don't start any trouble, young lady.
Well, Virginia hadn't said anything about finishing it.
"Hey," Meg called. Each of the boys turned to look at her. They wore nearly identical expressions of surprise which morphed into suspicion at her own defiant look. Meg glanced at the guy with the photographs and gave him a slight nod before turning to the rest of them. "You losers want to back off of my friend here?"
The idiots' faces became incredulous. The boy looked confused. Meg just raised her chin.
One guy stepped forward, the one who had initiated the confrontation. His face was covered in freckles and his eyes held a cruel glint. He leaned over Meg and gave her a cruel smile. "Your friend? Are you screwing him too?"
A bout of identical, obnoxious laughter echoed around the group. Meg crossed her arms. "If I was, it's none of your business." When she was met only with mocking grins, she leaned forward. "Besides, he can't help it if you're not getting any."
A hint of shock flickered over the guy's face before he gave her a dark glare. His cronies let out a few low ooohs. Meg had to resist the urge to roll her eyes at their behaviour.
The guy she was facing off with raised his shoulders up in an attempt to intimidate her. "You wanna say that again?"
"Didn't you hear me?" Meg asked. "I said, he can't help it if you can't get laid. Don't take your frustration out on him."
This time, there was no echo of response from his dumb friends. They all glared at her and began to swarm closer. She heard the boy let out a sound of protest from behind them, but they all ignored him. Meg didn't back down. Before any more words could be spoken, the bell gave a loud shrill. The main guy stuck a finger into her face. "You better watch yourself, slut."
Meg didn't respond. Slowly, he and his friends backed away from her. The ones holding photos threw them down on the ground before they all stalked off towards the school's entrance. A few of them turned back to shoot her dirty looks or flip her off.
This morning just keeps getting better, she thought.
Relaxing her stance and taking a quick breath, Meg turned to look at the boy beside her. He looked suspicious and maybe a little confused. "You didn't have to do that," he mumbled.
"And they didn't have to be mean to you. If they can do whatever they want, so can I." Meg gave him a firm look before she glanced at the ground. Without a second thought, she crouched down and began to gather up his photographs. The boy bent over and snatched a few, stuffing them back into a folder. When they stood up, Meg looked at the pictures in her hands. They portrayed a variety of things: a forest, a close-up of a melting candle, a delicate hand flitting over a barbed wire fence. Not a single risqué image in sight. She looked up at him. "These are really good."
The boy took them from her and shoved them into his folder. He didn't meet her eyes, and turned towards the school. "You don't have to say that to try to make me feel better or whatever."
"Again," Meg responded. "I said it because I wanted to. They actually are good." The boy glanced at her quickly before looking away again. He gave a little half-shrug.
"Thanks," he muttered. With that, he began to walk quickly towards the entrance of the school.
"Hey, wait!" Meg hurried to catch up with him. He didn't slow his pace, but looked at her when she caught up. "Listen, can you tell me how to get to the counsellor's office? I'm supposed to meet her."
He led her into the building, his squinting eyes glancing around at the stragglers left in the hallway. Probably keeping an eye out for more trouble-makers. The move looked instinctual. Meg clenched her jaw at the thought. The boy gave a slight sigh and paused long enough to answer her. "The counsellor's a he. And his office is down there," he pointed to the nearest hallway. "To the left."
Meg gave him a smile, lifting her bag higher onto her shoulder. "Thanks. See you around."
Her new friend gave her an uncomfortable look before walking off.
"Yeah, see you around," Meg mumbled in a low tone when he was out of earshot. "Thanks for helping me out, by the way. Hey, no problem! I'm Meg. Nice to meet you; I'm a rude photographer!"
She shook her head and walked in the direction the guy had pointed. Hopefully she wouldn't be too late and get in trouble before she had even started the school day. Her mom would just love to hear that.
The counsellor's office was right about where her new friend had said it was. The golden embossed lettering on the door's glass pane read: Ashely Davis, Counsellor. Megan took a quick breath, readied a bright smile, and knocked firmly on the door.
Twenty minutes later, Megan was sitting in the back row of her first class. She'd gone through the 'Class, we have a new student' spiel and was now in the 'Students attempting to not-so-subtly check her out' stage. The teacher – whose name she'd promptly forgotten – was explaining the "nuances of Shakespearean theatrics" in a monotonous voice. Megan took careful notes and ignored the glances thrown at her.
Her subsequent classes passed in much the same way. Boring teachers talking about boring things. Bored students eyeing her and looking away when she turned towards them. Her slim hands taking notes in small, looped handwriting. Girls whispering to each other and acting innocent when the teacher called them out on it. Boys scribbling on their notebooks and showing it to their friends, who smothered laughter at what was probably a crude sketch. It was nearly the same as her old school.
So far, there was not a single person whom Meg thought she might want to spend more than five minutes speaking to. Of course, she was friendly to the people she sat next to. She introduced herself and tried to remember their names. There was a Frances and a Grace and a Brian and a Jill. But she couldn't quite remember which was which.
The issue wasn't helped by the fact that every second person she passed would grin and snicker to the person beside them. A few guys pointed and leered at her and laughed. She ignored them all. Clearly the incident in the parking lot had already had its run through the rumour mill. Megan would probably care about her reputation if it weren't for the fact that she didn't really care about any of the people around her. Besides, soon enough, it wouldn't be her alleged sexual activities which defined her.
She strode confidently to her second period, anticipation crawling up her neck. The school map which the counsellor had given her showed her next classroom at the back of the school, in the same short hallway as the janitor's closet. The door was at the end of the hall, and the placard next to it read: Room 203, Film & Television.
Meg felt a wide smile threatening to break out on her face. This was the one thing she'd been looking forward to all day. When she'd been enrolling in Hawkins, she'd felt pure elation and relief flood her system when she saw that they had this class. If she had to leave behind her favourite class at her old school, at least this school offered the same one. It was a step in her plan: get some film knowledge under her belt. When she started at film school, she intended to be prepared.
As she reached to open the door, the sound of footsteps rounding the corner caused her to turn around. A girl with short black hair and heavily-lined eyes approached her with a casual smirk. When she stopped just short of stepping on Meg's toes, Meg realised that the top of her head barely reached the girl's shoulders. The girl's smile didn't falter. "Honestly," she said, her voice low-pitched and surly, "I am so glad to finally have another girl in this class. You should hear some of the things these idiots say in here." She adopted a conspiratorial expression. "Maybe now we have a chance at fighting back."
Usually, Meg was adept at social interaction. But in the face of this tall, beautiful, darkly-intelligent girl, Meg wasn't sure how to respond. The girl looked at her expectantly, her easy smile in contrast to her challenging eyes. She seemed to be waiting for Meg to declare her allegiance to her cause. Meg mustered a smile. "Absolutely."
This seemed to please the girl. She took a step back and her posture relaxed. Meg felt as though she'd just passed some sort of test. The girl's smile became more friendly and less intimidating. "I'm Samantha. Some people call me Sam. I don't really care. And you're the new girl that insulted Tommy H. this morning."
Now that Samantha wasn't standing two inches away from her face, Meg found speaking much easier. "I prefer to go by Meg," she quipped.
Samantha nodded. "Well, Meg, welcome to hell." With that, she led Megan into the classroom.
The Film & Television room was cramped, warm, and smelled like the inside of a smoker's lungs. There was a grand total of ten desks facing a chalkboard and white screen. The lights hanging from the ceiling were dim and one of them flickered pathetically.
Samantha led Meg to the front row and plunked herself and her books down without preamble. Meg noticed that Samantha's name was crudely scratched into the desk. Meg gingerly sat in the adjacent seat. She flicked her eyes around the room.
There were a few guys scattered around the desks. Meg and Samantha were the only ones sitting together. Most of them looked pasty and moody; not too unlike Meg's previous Film & TV class. One guy caught her eyes and gave her a once over with a suspicious expression. He glanced at the back of Samantha's head, then back at Meg. Slowly he gave her a slight nod. Meg turned back towards her new ally, who gave her a solid smile.
Somebody smelled strongly of marijuana. Or maybe that was just the room's general musk.
Meg took a moment to open her notebook and draw up a layout, carefully numbering the date on the page's corner. Then she sat back in her chair, and waited.
A small snort from her right caught her attention. A lanky, greasy-looking dude was sitting at the end of her row, leaning against the wall. "Newbie thinks we're actually going to learn something. This isn't some preppy, rich-kid school."
Samantha leaned across Meg's desk to frown at him. "Lay off, Meyers." She slumped back into her seat. "But seriously," she said to Meg. "Greg probably won't show up. He barely makes it to class on a good day. First day back from break?" She shook her head. "He's probably nursing a hangover somewhere."
Great, Meg thought. When you think it can't get any worse…
She released a deep sigh. "So the chances of this class actually being worth it are…?"
"Slim to none," Samantha answered with a grin. "It's basically just a free period. Greg will show up every once in a while, give us a run-down on test answers, and pass everybody."
Meg restrained the urge to growl. "I already have a free period," she grumbled. This town was ruining her plan. Of course, she'd already intended to make a trip to the library to pick up some resources on the film industry and do her own studying, but it was helpful to have someone guide her through it. Clearly that wouldn't be happening here. She reluctantly pulled out the copy of Macbeth she'd received in her English class and settled in to adventure through Scotland for the next forty minutes. Her English teacher had explained that they only needed to have the first scene read for the next lesson, but Meg wasn't about to waste time that could be spent getting ahead.
Thankfully, the time passed quickly. Samantha had spent it sketching in her notebook and batting away pieces of paper the boys threw at the girls. When the bell rang, Meg ran her fingers through her hair, making sure to dislodge any pieces she'd missed. She and Samantha exited the room together.
"Any chance you've got Chemistry next?" Samantha asked. Meg shook her head. "Bummer. I could use an ally in that class. When do you have lunch? Fourth?"
Meg nodded with a wry grin. "Yeah. Did you need an ally in that too?"
A snort that may have been a smothered laugh escaped Samantha. "Not particularly. But you can hang with me and a couple friends if you want."
A genuine smile broke out on Meg's face. "Sounds good."
Okay, not good.
Apparently somewhere between the Film & TV room and the Geography room, Meg's school map had gotten lost.
And now she was lost.
The bell had rung a few minutes ago – signalling the beginning of Meg's lunch period – and Meg had been ducking down halls and peering into doors without success. "Ridiculous," she chided herself as she dodged a group of cheerleaders. This school was tiny! It shouldn't be this hard to find the cafeteria. She had memorised the layout of the entire town, but she couldn't find the cafeteria? "Ridiculous." She should have taken time to commit the school to memory. Rookie mistake.
She pushed past a few kids with a frown. "Hey, watch it!" Meg didn't bother to reply.
Suddenly, her eyes caught on a pair of figures standing at the end of a row of lockers. There was a girl in a pink sweater leaning against a locker. Meg recognised the boy standing stiffly beside her. She quickened her pace and stepped up to them.
The girl's blue eyes narrowed at her as the boy turned to her with squinting eyes. "Porn guy," she greeted him with a smile before looking at the girl. "And you must be the slut girlfriend."
The boy frowned, but a glint appeared in the girl's eyes. "And you must be the new girl sleeping with my boyfriend."
Meg grinned. "Megan."
A smile tugged at the girl's lips. Her boyfriend eyed them both, his suspicious expression replaced by uncertainty. "I'm Nancy. And this is Jonathan."
"Nice to put a name to a face," Meg replied, nodding at Jonathan. He nodded back.
Nancy shifted her stance, her smile fading a touch. "Jonathan told me about this morning. That was nice of you. Although, I don't think it did you much help."
Meg gave a casual shrug. "I don't really care what these losers think." Nancy's and Jonathan's faces both conveyed disbelief, though Nancy tried to disguise it. Meg grew uncomfortable with their scrutinizing gazes. She straightened her shoulders. "Listen, I'm trying to find the cafeteria. Can you just point the way?"
"Oh, yeah, of course," Nancy smiled and jerked her thumb towards the hall behind her. "It's back there on the left. Double doors. Can't miss it."
"Thanks," Meg said and went to step away. Nancy shifted forward.
"Not very many people actually go there," she noted. Meg stopped and raised a brow. "We're allowed to leave the grounds during lunch and free periods, so the cafeteria's never very busy."
"Okay," Meg intoned. She wasn't quite sure why Nancy was telling her this. Should she be meeting Samantha somewhere else? Was there a place where everyone got food and Meg should know about it?
Nancy glanced at Jonathan, whose brows were furrowed, before turning a kind smile on Meg. "We were about to go to a diner. You can come along if you want."
Surprise lined Megan's features. She took a second to consider the offer. Go eat a decent meal with a shy kid and his nice girlfriend or try and find Samantha and her mystery friends. She smiled at Nancy. "I will, if you don't mind."
She had directed the if you don't mind more at Jonathan than his girlfriend, but Nancy's face broke out into a wide grin. "Of course not. We'll give you a ride, too." Jonathan gave her wry look. Nancy looked abashed. "Er, Jonathan will give you a ride."
For a moment, Meg thought that perhaps she should withdraw from the invitation. Perhaps he really was just shy, but it seemed like Jonathan didn't want her to come. Eating with them sounded nice, but she definitely didn't want to waste her time with someone that didn't even want her around. She shifted her weight onto her other foot and looked him in the eye. "Are you sure you want me to come? I really don't mind eating here."
Jonathan's brows raised, seemingly surprised by her direct manner. He glanced quickly at Nancy, who gave him a firm look. Looking back at Meg, he gave her a small smile. "As long as you like burgers, it's not a big deal."
Ignoring her sense of relief, Meg stepped back. "Then lead the way."
The ride to the diner was short and Nancy spent most of the time interrogating Megan under the pretence of curiosity. Maybe she was just being paranoid, but it seemed like Nancy was trying to determine whether or not Megan was trustworthy. It was kind of odd for a high school girl.
Nancy was in the front passenger's seat, turned so that she could look Meg in the eye. Her smile appeared genuine, but her blue eyes were sharp. "So, you're a senior?"
"Yeah."
"Why did you move halfway through your senior year?"
"My mom wanted to live closer to her sister and couldn't wait any longer, I guess." It wasn't a lie, just a half-truth. Megan figured it wouldn't go over very well if she told her new friends that her mother moved them here as a punishment for Meg's actions.
"Who's your aunt?"
"Claudia Henderson."
At this, Nancy's brows raised. "Really? My little brother is friends with Dustin."
Meg did her best not to frown. She remembered her first night in town, when Dustin had complained to one of his friends about how awful she is. She forced an interested expression. "Small world. What's your brother's name? Dustin's talked about a few of his friends."
"Mike," Nancy answered. A small smile touched her lips. "He's like the ringleader of their little group." Jonathan gave a quiet huff of laughter, and Nancy grinned at him before she turned back to Meg.
Meg reinforced the pleasant look on her face. Dustin had called his radio friend Lucas, not Mike. "I don't think he's mentioned Mike to me. Although we haven't really talked that much."
"Dustin's a neat kid." Meg tried to seem nonchalant. However, Nancy was more intuitive than Meg had originally taken her for. Without missing a beat or dropping her sweet smile, she asked, "Do you two get along?"
There was a beat of silence as Meg hesitated. Clearly Nancy thought Dustin was the bee's knees, so Meg didn't want to offend her by saying that she thought her cousin was The Worst. But Nancy had a little brother; surely she understood how annoying kids could be. Meg looked into Nancy's keen eyes. She gave a casual shrug. "We just don't really know each other that well. We're adjusting to being in each other's space all the time."
"That's a no," Nancy retorted. Her smile finally dropped, but her eyes held a glint in them. "I get it. Boys are annoying." Meg found herself releasing a breath and nodding.
"Ouch," Jonathan muttered.
Nancy rolled her eyes. "Present company excluded," she amended. "But, Dustin really isn't that bad. Give him a chance."
Megan wanted to be affronted, to tell this stranger that she didn't have the right to be telling Meg how to treat her own cousin. She wanted to say that their dislike wasn't her fault and that he started it. But the mature, less childish part of her brain whispered that Nancy probably did know Dustin better than she did. They were never around each other very much as kids, and hadn't spoken since that ugly Thanksgiving. So, Megan swallowed and nodded. "I'll try."
This seemed to appease Nancy and she ceased her interrogation. Her expression relaxed and she turned back around in her seat just in time for them to pull into the parking lot of the diner.
Jonathan slid the car into park. "My brother is friends with Dustin, too."
He was looking at the diner and didn't really seem to be addressing anyone in particular. Meg wasn't quite sure what to do with this information. "Uh, cool. Kinda crazy how things are connected."
Jonathan gave a quick nod, and opened his door. Nancy, who didn't seem to think his behaviour was at all odd, climbed out as well.
Meg took a second to collect her thoughts. She had gotten herself into a lunch with a nosy, keen girl and a socially awkward boy, and yet, Meg felt like the odd one out. Nancy's questions and comments about Dustin left Meg feeling like the bad guy. And something about Jonathan's random comment seemed deeper than what it appeared to be. For whatever reason, these teenagers seemed to be protective of Megan's obnoxious cousin. Which was totally random, right? Although, she didn't have any siblings. And she'd never lived in a town as small as this one. Maybe everyone looked after each other, protected their own. It was a nice thought, if a little foreign to her.
She took a breath and climbed out of the car, shutting the door while shooting a hopefully-not-awkward smile to her companions. They glanced at her, then at each other. Something in their body language changed as they locked eyes. In sync, they turned and walked towards the restaurant. Great, Meg thought. They can telepathically communicate. If she could just get through this with her sanity in tact, it would be a win.
As she followed the couple into the diner, Meg decided that her best course of action would be to stay as in control as possible. She was outnumbered in unfamiliar territory and she had weak spots that needed to be guarded. If she could control the situation, her chances of exiting this encounter with both her reputation and sanity untarnished were high. Nancy had caught her off-guard in the car. Meg couldn't let it happen again.
Of course, she wasn't controlling in the obnoxious kind of way. She didn't demand that she choose which booth they sit in or order their food for them or provide a list of appropriate conversation topics. But she did try to ask questions which focused on them and couldn't be turned back around onto her. Getting people to talk about themselves was a sure-fire way to deflect attention. As Meg settled into the booth, she realised that perhaps Nancy had been using the same tactic in the car.
After they had ordered, Meg settled her arms on the table and smiled at Nancy and Jonathan. "So," she chatted. "You two are actually dating, right? It wasn't just a joke that Freckle-Face made?"
Both of the teenagers grinned at her comment, though Jonathan's was a little more faint. Meg decided that he must take a while to warm up to people. Maybe he's as suspicious as I am. "His name is Tommy, although I guess Freckle-Face is also accurate," Nancy joked. She cast a quick, sweet glance over at Jonathan. "And, yeah, we are dating."
"Cute," Meg commented. And they were cute. Their shoulders were touching and they didn't even seem to realise that they glanced at each other every five seconds. Meg worried that her teeth would rot with all the sweetness on display. "How long have you been together?"
The couple answered at the same time, which also would have been cute if they hadn't given completely different answers.
"A couple of months," Nancy aid with a casual expression.
"Since November fourth," Jonathan answered with the clearest voice he'd used since Meg had met him.
Nancy turned her wide, blue eyes onto Jonathan and her lips parted slightly. Jonathan looked back at her with furrowed brows.
Well, this was awkward. At least it's got nothing to do with me for once, Meg thought. When neither teen said anything further, Meg decided to try and lighten things up. "I bet it just kind of happened, right? Just spur of the moment? Happened so fast it seemed like it's been that way forever?"
Jonathan slowly turned to look at her, but Nancy latched onto the excuse. "Yeah, definitely. I mean, neither of us were really trying to make it happen. It just – happened." Meg nodded. When Nancy put a hand on Jonathan's, flashing him those baby-blues, a tiny, fond smile touched his lips.
"Yeah," he agreed.
So sweet it hurts. Meg leaned back in the booth, as if to distance herself from the love-fest in the seat across from her. "Had you guys been friends before-hand?"
Nancy grinned. "We'd been friends for a while. Even if Jonathan liked to pretend we weren't." Jonathan let out a noise of protest and Nancy just elbowed him good-naturedly. "I think that he liked me all along, but he won't admit it."
That made Meg laugh, and Jonathan developed a mischievous glint in his eyes. He spoke to Meg, but was looking at his girlfriend. "Nancy was actually dating someone before we got together. But she really liked me."
Nancy gasped let out a startled, breathy laugh, as though surprised he would say such a thing. "I didn't know that I did!"
"Sure," Jonathan teased. Nancy smothered a smile and shoved his arm, which only made him grin.
Meg stifled the urge to roll her eyes at their antics. "Sounds to me like you both liked each other. Must've sucked to be the other guy."
Clearly, it had been the wrong thing to say. All traces of amusement disappeared from Nancy's and Jonathan's faces and they sent each other a quick glance. Nancy cleared her throat before leaning casually on the table. "We actually still hang out with him. It ended well between us, so we're all still friends."
Way to go, Meg. Suggest that she stomped on some guy's heart and simultaneously insult her friend. Real nice.
"Oh, that's cool," Meg tried to amend. "I'm glad it all worked out."
Nancy nodded and looked at Jonathan, who surprisingly nodded as well. Even with Nancy's statement, Meg still thought that maybe Jonathan wouldn't call his girlfriend's ex his friend. But he seemed genuine. "He's actually in your grade, Meg," Nancy said. "He went on vacation with his parents and won't be back till the end of the week, but I'll have to introduce you to him once he gets here."
Meg gave her an interested smile. "Sure." If I can decide whether or not you guys are weird between now and then. She didn't need more weirdness in her life.
The waitress came and set three plates of burgers and fries on the table. Meg was half-way through thanking her when the sound of a loud engine outside of the diner caught her attention, along with nearly everyone in the diner. Meg peered outside the window and saw a familiar-looking blue Camaro settle half-way between two parking spaces. Her brows knit together as she watched the mullet-wearing jerk from the gas station climb out of his car.
A snort from the waitress made all three teens look over at her. "Here comes Mr Fun," she grumbled before trudging over to the counter. Meg looked over at Nancy and Jonathan, who wore identical frowns on their faces as they watched the guy strut into the diner like he owned the place. People he passed seemed to send him an irritated glance before ignoring him. Did everyone in this town hate the guy? After his stunt at the gas station, Meg couldn't say she was surprised.
"Who is that?" She asked. When Nancy and Jonathan returned their attention to her, she jerked her head in his direction. "He was at the gas station I stopped at this morning." Her nose wrinkled as she shook her head. "A real class act. First person in town to flip me off."
The three glanced back long enough to see Billy give the waitress a once-over before winking at her. The woman scoffed and strode away from him. Billy was unperturbed; he plucked a toothpick from a can on the counter and stuck it in his mouth. He eyed a few other women in the diner, but just rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed. Meg felt her lip curl.
Nancy shook her head as she cast another glare in the guy's direction. "His name's Billy Hargrove. He's in your grade, too. He's…" Nancy trailed off, as though unable to come up with the right term for his kind of scum.
"The worst," Jonathan supplied. He cast Meg a wry look. "He's friends with Tommy."
"Great," Meg hummed. "So I managed to tick off two of the school's biggest douchebags on my first day. Go me."
When they shot Billy another glance, he was leaned against the counter impatiently, his eyes looking into the gap behind the counter showing the kitchen. "Come on!" He shouted, hands on his hips. "I don't have all day, sweetheart."
Jonathan frowned. "Must be here to collect his flavour of the month," he muttered.
A slim, blonde figure trotted out from a back room, sending Billy an irritated look, but still allowing him to sling his arm around her neck. She sent him a sultry gaze from beneath her lashes as he said something to her in a low voice. Across from Meg, Nancy pursed her lips. "More like flavour of the week."
Billy and the girl exited the diner, and Meg thought she could hear a sigh of relief echo around the booths. She swirled a fry into some ketchup. "Maybe I'm crazy, but I don't get what's so great. Dude's hair looks like he washes it with hairspray."
Her comment made Nancy release a short laugh and Jonathan outright grinned at her. "I think it's the jeans," Nancy said. "I can't make it through a class without hearing a girl whispering about Billy Hargrove's rear end."
Jonathan rolled his eyes and sent his girlfriend a knowing glance. "If only they knew."
Meg furrowed her brows at him. "What do you mean? Is he crazy or something?"
Both Nancy and Jonathan immediately grew sombre. They shared another telepathy look. Meg raised a brow, looking between them. Finally, Nancy gave an overly casual shrug. "He's done some pretty bad stuff to some pretty good people."
Her vague, ominous words had Meg staring quizzically at her, but Nancy just shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut before looking back at her. She flashed her a pleasant smile. "So, do you like movies?" Any shred of her mysterious attitude disappeared from her face. Meg eyed her for a moment, calculating. There was more to this girl than she'd originally thought. She was keen and shrewd and fun. Meg found herself liking her. Hopefully not against her better judgment.
After perhaps too long of a pause, Meg gave the girl a slight smile and nodded. "Yeah, I love them. I want to go into the film industry, actually." She shrugged as though it was an inconsequential detail, and not the hope upon which her every happiness was hinged. "Why?"
Nancy gestured to Jonathan. "A couple of us are going to the movies tonight, just to do something fun before all the school stress kicks in. You can come along, if you want."
Surprise registered in Meg's mind. Apparently, though Meg had been less than charming thus far, Nancy had made the same decision about Meg which she'd made about her: to try this whole friends thing out. A genuine smile spread across Meg's face. "Yeah. Yeah, that'd be fun. I'll be there."
