She sits on the parking lot bench waiting for Jonathan. When the tinny bell rings, the students pour from behind and in front of her like a zombified mob.
"Hey, Louise!"
She snaps her head up to the couple walking towards her.
"Whatcha out here for?"
Nancy's smile is in part patronizing, but Louise doesn't mind.
"Jonathan…" she replies. "To...ap-apologize."
She sees Steve raise a brow at Nancy who only brightens.
"Oh...Well, he's probably going to be stuck in school for a little while," Nancy says. "He usually stays after to develop pictures for his photography class. It's a hobby of his."
"Oh," Louise says, looks down at her hands. Shit.
She senses Nancy move to sit beside her, thigh to thigh, and a part of her pleated skirt disappears. It's the closeness which makes Louise suddenly nervous.
"Our brothers hang out together. Maybe the next time I see him, I'll tell him you'd like to meet up?"
Louise disagrees with a shake of her head.
No. I don't have time for that. I'll wait here until sundown. I must find her. I must.
"I'll wait then…" Louise says stubbornly. "I...have to do this."
Standing beside Nancy, Steve grumbles and his expression hardens to a scowl and it reminds her bitterly of Billy.
"No, you don't," Steve insists. "You shouldn't be apologizing for that jerk."
When he throws a dirty glance over his shoulder, Louise sees that it's directed several lanes across the parking lot at the very person she dreads. Billy leans against the side of his car, arms crossed over his broad chest, and he tilts his face to their pointed looks and glares.
"Jeez, he ought to send the girls running for the hills," Steve put in.
"Well, you didn't make a good first impression. It's no wonder he looks like he wants to throttle you," Nancy remarks.
"Oh, should I be so lucky," his reply was muffled with sarcasm.
When Louise smiles, Nancy grabs her attention as though she has something to add. And she does, but it makes Louise less inclined to answer.
"You two have a history?"
The question surprises her.
"Uh...Uhm...Billy is just...Well…"
"It's okay if you don't want to say. Just after seeing you two in the hall, the girls are curious. They want to know if Billy's available or—"
"If he has a psycho-ex who stalked him here from another school," Steve provides.
Louise's mouth twists and Nancy shoots Steve a tempered glance. "What he means, I'm sure, is if you're his girlfriend."
If. Louise almost chokes on her spit. Then, she snorts. "Hardly."
She and Billy wouldn't stand a chance in hell.
"But, he's got you on a short leash, doesn't he?" Steve asks.
Worry fills Louise's eyes. Is that the perception? That Billy controls her? Is that why Nancy is giving her this reassuring smile?
"Don't worry," Nancy says, and places her hand atop her resting in her lap before Louise could stop her. "He won't — "
The end of her sentence fades out, and the world rushes past her ears and melts from her vision.
. — . — . — .
In only her underwear, she feels so incredibly naked and cold, yet the warm body beside her wards away some of the regret she feels for being alive while Barb is not.
The newspaper crumples in her fists—
the headline its own insult to her friend's memory.
LOCAL GIRL RUNS AWAY?
How can these idiots be so blind?
"Sign here, Ms. Wheeler," the federal agent is stone-faced, and square jawed, and it would probably kill him to show an ounce of sympathy, "The events relating to Hawkins Laboratory cannot be disclosed to anyone. Do you understa—"
How can she look Mrs. Holland in the face?
"We should make it up to Jonathan." Steve looks at her. "How?" "Well, let's buy him a camera." "Hell no...C'mon Nance, he deserved it...No. No. Not that face...Fine." Barb always tried to stop her from giving into her short-lived whimsies ever since they were in fourth grade. —
— the forest has never looked so dead, desolate, here these woods which look so familiar, she walks as a stranger—
— beneath her fingertips the bark disintegrates into a porous black mucus. "JONATHAN"
Gray skin. Sharp joints. Face, closed like a flower. It's not a man. Not man. What is that?
It's—
It's—
Must find Barb. "She would never runaway like—"
NO.
What IS THAT?
She looks out the window, sees the shadow.
It's only the tree, Nancy, it's only the tree—
"She's out there!"
She's—
Gone. Gone. Gone.
I know you're alive —
it can't be—
"You can talk to me." But, Mom was never so easy to talk to; always so judgemental—
Girl in the pink dress floats in the water.
Gone.
Gone...
011…
. — . — . — .
Enough...
She comes back, shaking off the weight of another's memories from crushing her entirely.
Louise takes her hand from Nancy's, and slaps it over her nose.
"You're…" Nancy's voice wavers and its given away by her eyes, electrified with traces of suspicion.
"...Bleeding."
"I think I've got napkins in the car," Steve says hastily as he retrieves them.
As she regains her bearing, Louise questions if she is in part going mad or if Nancy is just highly delusional. But, the touch has never failed her. Mother said she can always know the truth. That is why she was chosen. And, in Hawkins, Indiana, it is dangerous to take anything at face value. Even if it means, doing what she hates most.
"Nancy…" the words are ready to pour out. Louise is ready to be done with this.
"Yeah?" Nancy says.
But, she stops herself when a chill travels down her spine.
What have you gotten me into, Mother?
She lowers her eyes to the ground and doing so puts less stress on her brain.
"Nevermind," she whispers. "M-my...head really hurts."
"Do you have a ride home? We can drop you off."
"I...Please."
As she pinches the cartilage, blood dripping down the back of her tongue, Louise unthinkingly searches for Billy in the scattered mass of students crossing the parking lot. Then, sees a girl sauntering towards him. His face lights up, so warm and inviting and Louise is left with the silly question of why he's never looked at her the same way as he has done with all the girls before her.
Upon seeing her frown, Nancy wonders what had suddenly caused Louise's demeanor to look so glum, until she forces her gaze to follow hers back to the new boy with the golden curls.
Tch.
Nancy is glad she'd gotten over that stage in her life.
. — . — . — .
"Would you say that girl was fun?"
His smile wavers. "Come again, darlin'?"
"Oh…" Tina says, "Y'know." She turns her head to the side and looks at the walking trio, specifically at the one trailing behind, her plaid skirt fluttering in the light breeze.
"Her."
Inwardly, he groans. He hoped to ignore her, now he can't.
Billy inhales the afternoon air, and exhales a cloud of smoke.
Tina watches him with a gleam in her hungry eyes that are trying to find the things she could use to one up him. In the event that he might drop her out of the blue. Because she understands that Billy Hargrove burns through his pretty catches faster than a fag. But, she's confident enough in her denim skirt and her stuffed bra and her bouncy curls to think she can play his game better than he can.
"What about her?" He says at length, lowering his cigarette.
"She from another school?"
Tina would bet she was— wished she was. But, Billy doesn't give her that satisfaction. He wouldn't lie to make her feel better.
In response, he shrugs nonchalantly, which only brings to light how much he actually doesn't know about Louise. Her home, her motivations, her last name, or her age— trivial facts he'd care less to find out from anyone else.
"You think I want to know?" Louise probably wouldn't tell him anyways.
Tina quirks a brow and slides beside him. Her hands take his and lays a piece of folded paper on his palm.
"What's this?" He asks.
"So you can find my house tomorrow, Hargrove." Tina answers. "And, in case you're…" Her painted lips broaden. "Bored."
A burgundy BMW pulls out of the parking lot and passes his car. The passenger sitting in the back holds a wad of tissues to her face.
Billy feels the scowl on his face and he doesn't know where it came from, but his fist closes on Tina's number.
. — . — . — .
"You live…" Steve takes in the building. "Here?"
The motel is just a seedy place for one night stands and other skeptical folks that live paycheck by paycheck. Might be why some parents don't like their kids hanging around this arcade, but it's all the rage. They'd have better luck telling their sons to not read skin mags than stay away from this low town hangout.
Louise nods her head energetically.
Steve ignores Nancy's terse look and shrugs. "Alright. Well, it was nice meeting you, Louise."
"Thank— you," she says as she puts on her backpack and steps out.
"Careful of the…" Drunkards? Child molestors? Drug dealers? Steve closes his mouth, thinks, and then opens it again. "Make sure to lock your door."
"Yes."
The backdoor shuts.
"Hey, Louise?"
The girl stops in front of room 020 and turns.
Nancy leans her head a little out the window.
"Weird question, but could I see your wrists?"
Steve's nose wrinkles at the request.
"Nance, what are you—?"
The determined look on his girlfriend's face isn't one he favors to question. When Nancy goes into these modes, he usually never interferes and the select times he had, she wasn't very keen on hearing his input.
The girl walks stiffly back to the car. Unbuttoning her cuffs, Louise steps close enough as she rolls up the fabric to her elbow for Nancy to frown with disappointment.
"N-no tricks up...my sleeve," Louise announces.
Nancy replies with a tight smile.
"Sorry 'bout that."
As she smoothes her sleeves and rebuttons them, Louise turns back to her room, takes out the key and slips inside. Even when the car pulls away, Nancy stares at the closed door with her hands closed into fists over her knees.
"Yeah, helluva weird question, Nance," Steve eventually agrees.
Nancy rolls up her side window, staring at the blinds of room 020.
"Don't you think…?" She trails off and looks down at her fingers and flexes them.
"Think what?" Steve asks. "That this place looks sketchy?"
"Why do you think she was at school?"
"Maybe she wanted to say "Hi" to her douchey boyfriend. Ex. Whatever. Seriously, she's probably just visiting. She's not going to be there tomorrow," Steve excuses, but there's hardly any consolation in that for Nancy.
"Do you remember last year?"
He's always liked her doe eyes. But, now they're charged with fear as they stare out the front window and it sucks him back to a time that shouldn't really matter to him anymore.
"Hell, do I remember last year," Steve replies dryly. The start of the forest scrolls past his window as they drive along the main road leading to Nancy's neighborhood. He tells himself whatever lurks in the shadows of the trees is just the underbrush.
Nancy frowns lightly, but he doesn't see this, not even from the corner of his eye.
. — . — . — .
"How many fucking times-?"
The thud resounds. Another— the slamming of the door. Silence follows and blankets the room in a thick fog.
Louise cowers in the closet. He feels a sense of relief, though he doesn't know where it comes from. Yet it is the sign that draws him from his closet and into the kitchen where he finds her pale hair fanned out on the floor like a pile of goose feathers.
Mom…
He rounds the corner, sees her ashen face. Eyes lidded. Like sleeping beauty. Mom had read that to him once. Handsome prince rescues the princess from the cunning black dragon whose scales are impenetrable.
"Mom."
But, the fairytales are wrong. Sleeping beauty is not in the glass box. She rests in the belly of the beast.
As he crouches down, Louise can't cry anymore for her, even as his mother pleads to him with a watery gaze, wet like the ocean, and says, "Billy...Help me."
. — . — . — .
Louise gasps, turns over onto her side and coughs into her pillow so hard tears spring forth from the corner of her eyes. Once her body stops shuddering, her breathing steady, she lays in bed for a few moments; her stare reaches out through the glass to the children rushing into the arcade. She likes to open the blinds in the evening— to see the pretty sunset.
When she rises out of bed, Louise is struck with the mild sensation of vertigo which forces her to sit. Live in the now. She tells herself this mantra to ward away the after effects of the Touch. Eventually, it works. Her mind clears. But, it takes longer than usual.
And, for a moment, she hates how deeply Billy is rooted in her mind when she should be pondering the images she gathered from Nancy.
The pale man. Hawkins Lab. 011.
Louise does not want to recall these images either. How is she supposed to believe that there is another world beyond this? For once, she doesn't understand what she sees and it gives her all the reason to escape her room to the bustling arcade next door. All hypnotic noises of games and children, bickering, laughing, yelling distracts her mind and it's all she asks for as Louise pushes through the crowd with a ten dollar bill in her fist. When she makes it to the middle counter, the center piece of the room, a boy that looks at her with a pizza face and bored eyes.
"What do you want?"
"I don't know."
"Then, get in the back of the line."
"I—thought y-you'd r-recommend something."
"And get fired if you get hives? Next." He looks sharply past her. "What do you want?"
"Cherry bonkers."
He reaches his hand into the glass case and slaps a box of candy onto the counter. A pale hand reaches around Louise from behind and a flash of auburn in the reflection forces her to peer over her shoulder at Max.
Louise looks at her, their expressions similarly taken with surprise.
And it's Max who blurts out, "I saw you at school."
Her doe eyes stare at Louise, and there's little kindness to be held in them, only hesitation. Max doesn't know it, but Louise hates Billy for her. If ever a single touch could reveal so much about his behavior toward others, it was hers.
"You're not his girlfriend, are you?"
Louise would smile if the prospect, the possibility that she could be mistaken as his, didn't frighten her.
"No," she answers and though Max appears riddled with questions, the boy at the counter interrupts.
"Can yall move?"
Grumpily, Max marches to Louise's side. She could imagine the girl was as apprehensive as she is. It would make things easier if she left, but Louise misses the opportunity, when Max hones her attention on her.
"How come you bleed so much? Are you sick?"
"No."
"You're weird, y'know that?"
Anxiety ties her stomach into a knot. Louise had never encountered someone so unashamedly blunt. Of course, Max would think she's weird.
"But," Max starts, "I don't think a girl's ever made Billy scared. There's a first for everyone, I guess."
The way she says it, sounds as neither a compliment nor an insult. But, it makes Louise smile regardless.
Then, Max shrugs, holds out her hand.
Louise looks at it then at her.
"Do it."
"Wh-what?"
"Do what you did to Billy."
"I…" Louise gulps. "No."
"Why not?"
She scans the room, suddenly terrified of the people surrounding them. If someone overhears...
"You're keeping it a secret then," Max concludes.
Louise doesn't confirm this, but she doubts she'd have any luck convincing Max if she denied it. The girl almost smirks but what appears on her lips looks more like a grimace. It's as though she'd forgotten how to smile. Louie could almost hear Billy from Max's face alone.
"I have to go," Louise says but Max grabs her sleeve, and thankfully their skin never touch.
"Tell me more."
Don't do this to me, Max.
Louise doesn't have the heart to say it, though. The girl's blue eyes are alight with energy. It's what most children look like when they feel hopeful. How could she deny this?
But, what can she possibly offer to Max? It's not like she was in a position to disclose the situation. How much trouble would that put her in if Mother found out?
Where would that put Max? Would it put her at risk too?
Louise wordlessly weaves to the front of the store, and though Max is no longer holding her, she trails after her heels. All the while she can't bring herself to be annoyed.
As Louise barges through the door, a blue camaro sits in front of her and Louise halts in her tracks and Max bumps into her from behind. They stumble forward and it attracts the attention of the driver who turns his head to the side.
The fates ought to be twisted in their ways, because Billy spots Louise and she never thinks her heart to start thundering like an angry sea.
We must stop meeting like this.
