November 5th, 1983
Isabelle rolled over on the couch, unaware of her surroundings. Used to sleeping in her queen sized bed, she misjudged the space she had, and landed on her side with a hard thump. Using her hands to lift herself up, she looked around, and was reminded of where she was. Lucas' living room. She sat up the rest of the way, using her hand to push her messy mop of dirty blonde hair out of her face, before standing up. She then looked down at herself, seeing an old pair of Lucas' pajamas all tangled up around her small frame. Reminding herself to kill her brother once she got home, she made her way out into the hallway.
She first stopped at the bathroom, using her finger to brush her teeth and running her fingers through her hair. Once she deemed herself not a mess, she went to find her friends. She could hear a ruckus coming from the kitchen, so she followed the noise. Upon pushing the swinging door, the noise seemed to double. All the Sinclairs, plus her 3 other friends were spread throughout the room, talking and eating all at once.
Mr. Sinclair was manning the stove, flipping pancakes and frying bacon. Mrs. Sinclair was filling cups with orange juice or milk, whichever the person preferred. Erica, Lucas' little sister, was sitting at the bar, eating her food and attempting to ignore the four boys. And circled around the breakfast nook, were her four boys. She smiled, watching them swap food from each other's plates, some with permission, some without.
Mrs. Sinclair was the first to notice her, coming over and placing an arm around the young girl's shoulders.
"How did you sleep dear," she asked, bringing all the attention to her.
Erica was quick to speak up. "She talks in her sleep. A lot. I heard her when I was going to the bathroom."
Isabelle feels her cheeks go red, and looks away in embarrassment.
"We know. Last sleepover at my house, she had a 20 minute convo with us about unicorns. It was great," Dustin shared with the group.
"Thanks for sharing Dusty!" Mrs. Sinclair gives her shoulder a squeeze, before directing her over to join the boys. "I slept fine, thank you."
"How do you like your eggs Bells," Mr. Sinclair asks, going to grab a fresh egg for her.
Before she could answer, Lucas spoke up for her. "Scrambled with ketchup."
She smiles at him, taking a seat next to Will, "Good morning boys. How'd you all sleep?"
Lucas is first to respond. "Terrible! Dustin snored like a lawn mower."
"Hey, I can't help it."
Isabelle laughs, turning to Will. "What about you Will? How did you sleep," she asked, taking a plate from Mrs. Sinclair and setting it in front of her. "Thank you ma'am."
Mrs. Sinclair smiled, waving the girl off. "Quit with the ma'am Bells. Mrs. S is fine."
Will answers her question, "Good, I think. One minute my eyes were open and Lucas was challenging Dustin to a fart contest and then the next it's morning and Mike is shaking me awake."
"Glad I slept through all that. Why did you wake him, Wheeler?"
Mike doesn't even finish chewing before he's responding, causing Isabelle to wrinkle her nose in distaste, "Because, Dustin and Lucas were already up and gone. I didn't want him to keep sleeping and them decide to prank him or something. Would you rather I left him to their will?"
She doesn't respond, just shakes her head. Looking down, she sees food on her plate. Half a pancake from Will, the other half on his plate. 3 pieces of ripped bacon, the fatty sides, from Mike. He likes his crispy, she likes her on the opposite end of the spectrum. Dustin hands her a slice of toast with strawberry jam. They've done the sleepover breakfast so many times, they have a system. Usually, she's up before them, helping whoever it is that's cooking, and dividing things up. She smiles at all of them, "Thank you boys."
Mr. Sinclair brings her eggs over, placing them beside her bacon. "Thank you Mr. S." Lucas hands her the ketchup and after placing a small amount on top, she starts to eat.
"What's everyone doing today," Lucas asks, between bites.
"Visiting my nana at the nursing home," is Mike's response, as he points a gun at his head. "It smells so bad there."
The table laughs, "Moms making us go shopping for some new winter clothes. I told her I didn't need to be there, but she insisted." Mrs. S shakes her head, agreeing with her son.
"Spending the day with my mom, a Dusty and Mom day," Dustin says, a blush rising to his cheeks. Before the group can start to tease him, Isabelle speaks up.
"That sounds nice Dusty." The table grows silent, no one speaking about the elephant in the room. "What about you Will? Any big plans?"
"No, not really. Mom has to work, Jonathan is off doing photography stuff. Probably just lay around reading comic books. What about you Bells?"
Isabelle finishes chewing the bite in her mouth, wiping her mouth before speaking. "A whole lot of notta."
"Wanna hang out at my house," Will asks.
Isabelle grips his arm, overwhelmed with excitement. "Yes! We can go through your comics, oh or paint! We can just have an artsy day, just the two of us."
Will smiles, the girl's excitement catching. "Sounds like fun!"
The kids finish eating, Dustin and Mike's parents show up to take them home. Isabelle goes upstairs, changing back into her clothes from the day before and folding the pajamas they'd been so nice to let her borrow. She leaves them sitting on the end of Lucas' bed, and rejoins Lucas and Will downstairs. When Will's brother shows up to take him home, Isabelle gives Lucas a hug, follows Will to the car, and Isabelle begs a ride off him.
"If you'll just drop me at my house, I can freshen up and then walk over through the woods, if that's ok."
Jonathan looks at the girl in his rear view mirror. "Yeah Bells, that's fine. How's the new camera working out for ya?"
She leaned forward, resting her chin on the front seat. "It's great! I'm going to take it to our D&D game tomorrow and get a bunch of pictures."
Will turns to look at her, a small smile on his face, "Are you trying to make Mike mad Bells?"
"I know, I know, but he'll smile for me."
"Of course, he's not one to say no to you," Jonathan says, smiling over at the small girl.
They drop her off, Isabelle yelling bye over her shoulder as she runs up the drive. Seeing Steve's car in the drive, she immediately feels her anger rise. She uses her key to get into the house and runs up the stairs. She doesn't bother knocking, just rushes right into Steve's room. She grabs a discarded pillow off the floor and starts wacking him repeatedly. She's winding up for hit #3 when he sits up and grabs the pillow mid swing.
"What the hell are you doing Isabelle?"
He looks rough. "Must have been some party last night, huh?"
Steve smiles, "Yeah, it was. I didn't crawl in bed until 3 hours ago."
"Fascinating Steven. Want to know when I crawled into my bed?" She doesn't give him a chance to respond, swinging the pillow and connecting with his ear. "I never got to crawl into my own bed, because my brother FORGOT ME!"
Steve winces, remembering now what he was trying to remember after 4 beers last night. "Shit, Belly, I'm sorry. Really."
She stands, watching him, she can see the remorse. "The Sinclairs were nice enough to let me stay there, since the rest of the party was staying anyway. Now, I'm going to shower and put on clean clothes. I'm headed to Wills for the day. Think you can remember to pick me up around 7:00?"
Steve shakes his head in agreement, then plops back down on his bed and covers his head. "Have fun at Bills. See you tonight."
She doesn't bother correcting him, just leaves the room. If she shuts his door a little hard, he deserved it. She takes a quick shower, throws on some black leggings and an oversized purple sweater. She puts her hair into two long braids, then slips on socks and boots. She grabs her jacket, ear muffs, and a scarf and she's out the door.
—
It takes her exactly 8 minutes to get to Castle-Byers, another 4 to get to Will's actual house. She knocks on the back door, and lets herself in.
"Will, I'm here." She makes her way through the house, heading straight to Will's room. The door is open, the boy sitting on his bed, reading a comic.
He puts it down, looking up at his friend. They've known each other most of their life, along with Mike, and he still has moments where he's confused why she spends her time with them. She could be friends with anyone, really. She's a Harrington after all. They don't get to spend nearly enough time just the two of them, so he's excited for today. He smiles, watching the girl wander around his room.
"Well," she asks, "what should we do first?"
Will grabs his art supplies and they lay everything out in front of them. For the next two hours, they work in a comfortable rhythm. Periodically the other will ask for an opinion or just want to show what they've done. They are always honest with each other, constructive criticism is better than a lie. They talk the entire time, about anything and everything. She tells him about her brother this morning, he talks about his mom. There are no secrets between any of them, but with Will, she feels like she can be more open about her relationship with her parents. He's got issues with his dad, so she feels like he understands a little better than the others.
They've been quietly painting for a while, when Will speaks up. "Seen your parents lately?"
Isabelle doesn't immediately answer, looking anywhere but at Will for a moment. Her lips form a line across her face, as she continues painting. "Think I heard them come home on Thursday night, after I'd already gone to bed. But I haven't seen them face to face in a few weeks," she stops, looking up at Will. "Have you heard from your dad lately?"
Will goes back to his painting, "Not for a few months. I think Jonathan said something to him, the last time he dropped me off. They definitely exchanged words, they both looked pissed."
"Who needs them anyway? I think we're both amazing people, with great people in our lives. Your mom and brother love you so much! And I've got Steve, and you guys. We're better off, right," she asks, looking at Will like she really needs him to confirm what she just said.
"Right! Who needs 'em," Will says, though his face is sad. Isabelle gets it. Even though you tell yourself you're probably better off, you still want them to want to be a part of your life, to love you. Isabelle grasps Will's hand across from her, squeezing it tightly. They return to their paintings, working in silence once again.
When they finish, Will has painted a knight and Isabelle has painted a field of sunflowers. Both are pretty good for two 12 year olds. They tack them up on Will's fridge and then each grab a stack of comics and head to Castle-Byers.
They've been in there for a little while, taking turns reading out loud, when they hear the rustling of leaves outside. They both stop, waiting, but hear nothing. Will starts to read again, when they hear Will's mom speak.
"Ring-a-ding-ding! Anybody home?"
"Password?"
"Uh, Rada… rada… Radagast?"
"Yeah. You may enter."
"Thank you, sir. Isabelle! I didn't know you were here."
"Hi Mrs. Byers. Sorry if I'm intruding. Will and I were the only two that didn't have plans today, so we decided to entertain each other."
"Well that's sweet. It's always nice to see you around here. I just wish I'd known you were here. I got off early and... Ta-da! Poltergeist," she said, holding up two tickets.
"I... I thought I wasn't allowed to see it."
"I changed my mind. I'd have gotten three, if I knew Isabelle was here, I'm really sorry."
Isabelle knows that they don't have a lot of extra money, so she's extremely glad that she didn't use any of it on her. "I appreciate that, really, but I'm not a big fan of scary movies, they give me horrible nightmares. I just can't seem to out grow it, not like Will here," she says, patting his arm.
Will smiles proudly. "What time is it showing?"
Joyce looks at the tickets, "4:30. So we've got 30 minutes to get there."
Will stands up, brushing himself off and moves out of the tent. His mom and Isabelle follow him, and the two Byers start to head back home. When they realize Isabelle isn't joining them they stop and turn to her.
"Don't you want a ride?"
"No thanks! I'll just walk back this way. Steve should be home, I'll be alright."
Before Will can follow his mom, Isabelle runs over to him. She hugs him tightly, and he returns it with the same intensity.
"Thanks for spending today with me, Will. I really appreciate it. It was a lot of fun."
Will just nods and gives her one more squeeze. Isabelle lets go and takes off running. She runs backwards for a moment, watching the two go in the opposite direction.
"I love you Will! See you tomorrow!"
"I love you too Bells," Will yells into the wind.
—
Isabelle went straight to her room when she got home. She looked for her bag, wanting to start reading the book Nancy, Mike's older sister, had given to her to read on Thursday. About once a month or so, the older girl would suggest a book for Isabelle to read. She had loved just about every book recommended and she was extremely excited for this one. She pulled it out, crawled in bed, and did what she loved most. Curled up with a good book.
—
Steve woke up at 6:30, having set an alarm shortly after his sister had slammed his door shut. He'd be damned if he forgot her again. She'd never forgive him. Sure, he put off the air of not caring about anything, but in all honesty, he loved his sister. It had been the two of them against the world for a long time now. With parents that could barely be bothered to make an appearance, someone had to be there for the girl. He'd be damned if she dealt with the crushing blow of disappointment of having no one. He pulled on a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt, socks and sneakers. Maybe they could go grab some dinner after he picked her up.
He opened his door, and started downstairs. He'd only walked down a few, when he heard a voice coming from his sister's room. Confused, the boy turned back and walked into her room. There in the bed, laid his little sister, a book opened on her chest. She was fast asleep. The voice? That silly walkie talkie she and her friends used to communicate. Why they couldn't just use phones, he would never understand. They were always either together, or at their homes. Not like they were hard to reach.
"Hello? Anybody? Come in, over."
Steve made his way across the large room, picking up the comm and looking at it, before pressing a button.
"Who's this?"
"Who the hell is this?!"
"It's Steve."
He heard the mic click on and click off. That's what he thought.
"Oh. This is Mike. Is Bells there? Is she ok? Why are you on her comm," the kid rambled out almost faster than Steve's brain could compute. "Over."
"Belly's asleep. I was on my way to pick her up, when I heard this going off in her room. Saved me a trip to Bill's house at least." There was no response, Steve went to place the walkie down and leave his sister for the night.
"Who the hell is Bill? Do you mean Will," the line goes quiet for just a second, before he starts to ramble again. "Sorry, were you done? You didn't say over, over."
Steve rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I was done kid. And sure, Will. Did you actually need something or are you just trying to bother me," he asked. "Over, or whatever."
"No. I just wanted to tell Bells that my nana sent me home with Patsy Cline on vinyl. I was looking at it and my nana noticed. She told me I could take it, but I really got it for Bells. Over."
Steve smiled. "Well, like I said, she's sleeping. Want me to tell her or do you want to? Over." The girl was going to freak out when she found out.
"She's coming over tomorrow, I'll tell her about it then. Over."
Steve shook his head, before remembering no one could see him. "Sounds like a plan then. Over and out kid."
Before the kid could say anything else, Steve turned the walkie down and replaced it on his sister's nightstand. He grabbed a blanket from the foot of her bed, bringing it to cover her up. He took the book, not wanting her to lose her place. He opened her nightstand drawer, pulled out a bookmark, then placed the book inside. Making sure her blinds were closed, night light was lit, he exited the room, pulling the door shut behind him. Guess he'd find something to eat here instead.
—-
Isabelle wakes up around midnight, confused at first. It had still been light out when she'd laid down, no intention of falling asleep. She sits up, rubbing her eyes, and looking for her book. She finds it in her nightstand, place marked and everything. She smiles, realizing her brother hadn't forgotten about her. She gets out of bed, changing her sweatshirt for an old oversized shirt of Steves, and makes her way downstairs.
She hears the tv playing, and goes straight to the kitchen. She opens the fridge, finding a sandwich already made. She pulls it out, pours herself a glass of coke, and decides to venture into the living room. Instead of finding one of her parents, she finds Steve asleep in their dads la-z-boy. She sits down on the couch, letting the tv continue playing whatever infomercial is on. She eats her sandwich quietly, enjoying the feel of Coke burning her throat.
"It's good, right," she hears Steve say quietly.
She looks at him in the chair, one eye open and watching her.
She covers her mouth, finishing chewing the bite in her mouth. "Yeah, it's really good. The spicy mustard is a good touch."
"Right, I thought so too. Just enough to give it some heat, but not enough that you can't still enjoy. Coke sounds good."
Steve gets up, coming to sit next to her and stealing her glass. He takes a big swig, leaving her with barely a swallow. She slaps him in the arm, laughing as he chokes a little on his drink.
"Let me enjoy my food jerk!"
He holds his hand up in surrender, turning to watch the tv again. When she's finished her food, she takes her dishes to the kitchen, returning with her glass refilled halfway for her brother. She hands him the cup, which he takes and chugs in seconds. She takes her spot next to him again, yawning big. They watch the tv in a comfortable silence, when suddenly the power blinks off and back on all in a matter of seconds.
Isabelle sits up straight, looking around. Steve places a hand on her back, trying to reassure her.
"Everything's alright. It was just a surge." She nods her head, trying to calm her heart rate.
"Yeah, just a surge," she says, eyes still big and looking around sporadically.
"Let's go to bed, ok?"
Steve gets up, taking his glass to the kitchen, while she turns everything off. They meet up at the bottom of the stairs and she follows Steve quietly. He walks her to her room, waiting while she gets into bed. She checks her comm, seeing the volume turned down for some reason. She fixes it and lays down. Steve goes to leave, when she stops him.
"Steve?"
"Yeah kiddo?"
"Will you leave our doors open, just for tonight?"
"Yeah, sure, anything for you Belly."
"Night Steve."
"Night, love you," he says, letting the door go about halfway closed. He can hear her mumbled reply as he does the same to his door. He sits on his bed, an intense feeling of anger towards his parents rising in his chest. It was their fault Isabelle reacted the way she did. Their fault that she had these issues. He knew he'd never forgive them for what they did, but he hoped that she wasn't carrying around that type of resentment in her young innocent heart. He takes a few deep breaths, not letting himself dwell on it much longer. He buries his head under his pillow, and wishes for no issues throughout the night.