She was almost...dare she say, nervous?

Mary clutched the note in her hand like she was carrying an invitation that she absolutely needed it to get in. She dropped her books off in her locker, grabbed the neat brown paper sack waiting inside, and fingered the corners of the note with growing anxiety. Jenny was watching. She had to. This was the opportunity she had been waiting for and it had dropped in her lap almost literally.

Everything is going according to plan.

She followed the hallways which led to the lunch room – to her right, left, left, another left, and then there it was, the doors propped open and hundreds of voices colliding to make a sort of music that floated out into the hall and greeted her. This time she wasn't left wondering where she was going to sit. There it was, one of the middle tables, and Eddie had caught sight of her and waved her enthusiastically over. She tried to ignore the fact that the rest of the boys at the table were unapologetically slack-jawed and could not manage to hide that they couldn't believe who was coming to sit with them.

"Holy…" One of the boys, a boy with curly hair and a squeaky leather jacket, hissed under his breath.

Mary took the open seat next to Eddie, who sat at the head of the table like a victorious king, and another astonished teenage boy fighting a breakout and mousy brown hair which fell in beautiful waves and framed his boyishly round face.

"Gentleman, do not stare at our new lady friend…" Eddie warned. Mary kept her focus on the least unnerving thing she could think of – her lunch, the contents now squashed in her white-knuckling grip. "She's just as scared of you as you are of her."

"Who said anything about scared, Munson?" said the boy with the tight short curls. "I just wanna know how much you paid her to sit with us…"

"Yeah where'd you get the money? Thought you couldn't even afford to replace your nasty old mattress-"

"Shut up!" Eddie snapped shrilly, throwing a pretzel at the wavy-haired boy's face. It hit him square in the nose and he indeed shut his trap quickly. "She's a lost sheep. She needs our help, boys."

"She's lost?"

"She's beautiful."

"Oh my g- Kenny, stop it."

"You're so embarrassing."

Mary's ears were starting to ring from all the testosterone-fueled shouting. She wished she could retreat into herself, disappear, and she couldn't remember ever feeling this shy, this overwhelmed in her life. Always the center of attention, always sure, always the interminable optimist that got on her friends' nerves. Who was this new girl? Who was this alien taking up residence in her comfortable skin, shoving her out, taking over? Like some sort of self-conscious, fidgety demon.

"Guys...I said shut up!" Eddie shouted again, standing up, slamming his hands hard against the table and upsetting a can of half-drunk coke. Everyone stopped talking at once. "Mary is our new friend, not an object to cream your pants over. Let's treat her like the human being we all want to be seen as, huh? Try this little thing your mommies should've taught you called manners."

It was quiet for a long time. Mary didn't even know how to start pretending, where to pick up the threads of her new life and start weaving together the tangled web of deception. Across the lunchroom hall, she locked eyes with Jenny, who was comfortably situated under the arm of a stocky blond football player with a prominent brow and a wide grin. The smile she gave her was more devilish and fearsome than the reputation of the kind metalhead with the doe eyes that sat next to her munching on pretzels. It almost seemed to say...the plan is in motion.

"So uh...I'm...I'm Gareth." Said the wavy-haired boy to her right, at first awkwardly offering his hand to shake hers then, at the last minute, seemed to think better of the gesture and reached for his spilled coke instead.

"Hi Gareth," she gave him a shy smile, hoping it seemed genuine. She wished she could be anywhere but at this table full of strange rejects and their equally bewildering leader.

"I'm...I'm Kenneth, but uh, you can call me Kenny, or Kenneth, or Ken. Gosh-" Kenny, the one with the tight curls, clamored for words, stuttering over them like a tap dancer. "You can call me whatever you want, I'll answer."

She chuckled at his reply, but didn't respond this time, glancing briefly at Eddie, who was observing the outlandish exchange between blonde pretty cheerleader and socially awkward rejects without even attempting to hide his amusement with the situation. He cracked open his own can of cola and slurped at it loudly, apparently forgetting his own hypocritical reprimand to the rest of his crew to mind their manners.

"Jeff," the last boy, whose skin was the most beautiful dark brown Mary had ever seen, had an innocent, almost elfish face. "I'm Jeff. Sorry you have to sit with the likes of us."

"Oh, pish, Jeff, don't be bashful," Eddie trilled at the front of the table. Sometimes, Mary thought to herself, he reminded her of a tribble. "Mary Mary quite contrary wanted to come. She got an invitation, not a summons."

"So, what brings you to the loser table?" Kenny asked, who looked so determined to overcome his fear by offering her a cola that Mary couldn't help but find the gesture adorable and accepted it gladly. She cracked it open with one delicately painted bubblegum pink nail and felt the spray of brown liquid hit her in the eye. Eddie guffawed next to her.

"You okay, sweetheart?" He asked, offering her a napkin as she mopped quickly at her face. She took it but instead of using it to clean herself up she crumpled it in her hand, left it in a pile of sweaty wrinkles in her lap.

"I prefer Mary, if you don't mind."

Eddie opened his arms wide as if in a sign of welcome. "She speaks," he said triumphantly. "The princess has awakened from her long slumber. I was beginning to wonder when you'd come out of your shell, Mary Thatcher." He winked. Mary wondered if he ever had a moment of not being the very essence of histrionic spectacle.

"Why did you..."She started, and he leaned in, those maddeningly distracting eyes focused in on her. "Why did you invite me to sit with you?"

He grinned widely as he rolled the fragments of a pretzel over his tongue, looking mischievous again as if he held a secret very close to his chest that he'd been dying to share. "I saw that copy of Lord of the Rings in your bag, Mary. You're a secret nerd, just dying to be let out of her conformist cage and be the resplendent Noldorian elf you always longed to be."

"Wait, is she joining Hellfire?" Gareth could barely hide the gasp in his voice.

"We've never had a girl in Hellfire…" Kenny joined in, just as taken aback at such an impossible notion, but not unpleasantly so.

She looked around the table for answers, completely unaware of what they were talking about. "Excuse me, but...what is Hellfire?"

"It's our club...of sorts. And in it we play the most wonderful invention to come from the imagination of mankind," Eddie explained, wiggling his eyebrows with excitement. "Dungeons and Dragons."

Mary waited for further explanation and Eddie, recognizing that she had failed to grasp the concept, looked around, lowered his voice, and beckoned for her to come closer with a curl of his index finger. "You don't know about Dungeons and Dragons? A Tolkien loving girl like you?"

"I like more than Tolkien," she replied, feeling herself relax as she realized these boys, though strange, were perfectly harmless. "I love to read classics in general. Frankenstein, Pride and Prejudice, Wuthering Heights, the Great Gatsby, Anna Karenina...all of it. No matter the genre."

"But I mean, come on…" Eddie said, casting her a sidelong glance as he threw another pretzel into his mouth and chewed vigorously. "Tolkien's your favorite. He has to be. He's a genius."

"Lord of the Rings is one of my all time favorites, yes," Mary said, taking a sip of her coke and opening her lunch bag, upending it. A turkey sandwich, an apple, and a bag of potato chips fell out in front of her. Eddie confiscated the potato chips before they could make contact with the table. "I read it every year."

"The whole triology?" Gareth questioned, looking incredibly impressed.

"Oh yeah," Mary nodded, taking a bite out of her apple. "Return of the King is my favorite. And the Houses of Healing one of the best chapters...because Faramir and Eowyn finally find one another and heal from their pasts, their horrible, traumatic, joyless pasts."

"Most people go for Frodo or Gandalf as their favorite," Jeff frowned. "Why Faramir? I get Eowyn, she's a fantastic well rounded female character, especially for the time in which she was written. But why Faramir?"

"He's just...so honorable. He reminds me of an Arthurian knight, like Lancelot, or Gawain. Honor and duty, the epitome of all things good and righteous. He's able to resist the power of the One Ring, unlike his brother, knowing that it would prove disastrous to try and wield its power for good, and show that he is worthy, even though his father makes it so clear that he favors Boromir. I always found it admirable that Faramir rose above his circumstances, his cold and loveless father, to become a great, wise, and virtuous man. A captain that men could follow."

"That….was so hot." Kenny sighed dreamily. Jeff elbowed him hard in the side, hissing at him to shut up under his breath.

Mary could not believe that she was able to talk about Lord of the Rings with anyone but her mother, with whom she shared a love of the series. The fact that she had been permitted to say three words together about it without being met with raspberries and heckling from her less bookish, uninterested friends, was a precious memory she would not soon forget. As much as she loved those friends back home, she knew that her love of books was not something she could share with them.

"And that….my dear Miss Thatcher," Eddie cut in. "Is why I asked you to sit with us. And why I'm inviting you to sit in on our Friday night campaign to see what Dungeons and Dragons is all about. Perhaps, if I'm feeling generous, I'll even let you join, help you develop a character."

"I don't know…" She said, hoping she came across as playing hard to get and not completely disinterested, even disgusted by the idea. Whatever this game was, it sounded like a terrible waste of a Friday evening.

"Come on," Eddie popped out his full bottom lip and pouted, pleading with her. "Like I told you before, Mary. We don't bite unless you ask."

Jenny's words reminded her of the direness of the situation she was in. If I don't see progress, you're toast.

She gave him a crooked smile, meeting his eyes which, she had to admit, were kind, inviting even. "Well...all right, I could make an appearance."

"I knew you had it in you, Thatcher," he said, returning her answer with a grin.

.

.

.

On her way back to her car after school, books in hand, the Lord of the Rings exchange on her mind, Mary felt...torn.

Torn because, well, these guys were kind of all right. There was no mistaking the strange, nerdy qualities that sidelined them when it came to having a social life during their high school career, but they were kind to her. When she talked, they looked her in the eyes, and they didn't just hear the words coming out of her mouth. They listened. Responded. Something about being with them and taking their offers of coke and pretzels made her feel like she was at home again. Made all of those sensations she savored return to her, as real as the day she felt them. Toes in the burning sand. Wash of surf on her feet. Lemonade, cool and tart, tingling on her tongue. The sound of her friends laughing, playing, she remembers the moment she decided to join in, when the ball rolled her way and she picked it up before the waves could carry it out to sea. Those same emotions, that same happy, comfortable feeling...she felt it today. While she was sitting at the social reject table.

It was probably best not to think about it too often. They – specifically Eddie – were collateral in a plan where at least one heart was getting broken. She pushed all thoughts of getting too assimilated into that culture where anything to do with books, adventure, metal, fantasy games, and imagination were not just accepted, they were encouraged. That was not who she really was. Lord of the Rings was one tiny facet in a personality dominated by cheerleading, popularity, and plans after high school that did not include playing a stupid fantasy game with a bunch of nobodies.

She winced a little at the last thought. It was too cruel after how open they had been with her, how genuine and guileless. They didn't deserve it.

"Hey, new girl!"

Mary turned and Jenny was waving off her blond football player friend, who promised to wait for her in the car.

"I see you got in with his crowd of losers," she said, resting her hands on her hips as Mary searched her book bag for her car keys. "How'd you manage to do that so fast?"

Like I'm going to tell you.

The desire to tell Jenny off was small compared to the desire to be liked by her. "Oh, you know. Just batted my eyelashes at him and asked him about his shirt."

Jenny rolled her eyes at the mention of the shirt, which must have been a sore subject for the entire school by the way she reacted. "I hate that ugly shirt. It's disgusting, he wears it every day. I know he's poor but can't he afford one more?"

Mary pursed her lips to keep the words she wanted to say from spilling out. Instead she cleared her throat and changed the subject. "Sorry, did you need something?"

"Just wanted to say you're doing a noble thing for Jason," Jenny said, a little too sweetly, then pulled a green flyer out of her own bag. "And that you're invited to his party on Saturday. The whole basketball team is having a get together. They're bringing a keg and everything."

Noble...Mary scoffed and watched Jenny walk away. You don't know the meaning of noble.

.

.

.

With all of her clothes being more suited for California and its eternal summer weather, Mary's closet had not been prepared for the four seasons of Hawkins, Indiana. Once arriving and pulling some boxes out of the moving van – her mother, after much insistence, finally caved and stood by while Mary dragged them up the stairs by herself – they realized she was going to need a couple of things before winter and the inevitable first snow arrived.

"It gets pretty cold, Jim," her mom insisted when her dad, a well-intentioned miser, made a pained face at the mention of buying clothes. "I think we might all need to do some shopping soon for a new wardrobe."

He relented, not unreasonable. Just not the most willing man to part with his money without a cause...especially now, with everything…

"You should probably get some warm clothes, too, Di…" He said softly, grasping her cool, ashen hand a bit longer as she reached out to take the money from him. Mary tried to ignore the desperation in his voice. "We want you staying healthy. Strong. You know?"

She took his hand in both of her own. "Don't worry about me, Jim," she assured him. "I'll be okay. Let's get Mary settled in first, since she leaves the house the most. We'll bring something home for dinner, okay?"

Mary let her mom drive, not wanting to deprive her of all semblance of independence, and relished the cool late afternoon breeze tangling its chilly fingers in her hair, prickling at her skin and leaving it like ice as they hopped in the car and turned on the car. She was the first to crank up the heater, blasting it in her mother's direction.

"It never got this cold in San Diego," her mother shivered, teeth chattering. She held her half-frozen hands up to the vents and let them thaw in the hot, healing flow.

"Never…" Mary agreed, beaming as her mom backed carefully out of the driveway. "But the leaves are absolutely beautiful and it'll be so fun to have four seasons! Snow at Christmas, wildflowers and green in the spring. Won't that be great mom?"

"So great," she replied, matching her eagerness. "We won't have to go to Big Bear Lake for snow at Christmas. We'll be home, looking out our own window."

It was from her mom that she inherited the quality of consummate idealist. There were times where it faltered or became insufferable because of pride and when it came to letting go, of admitting a situation was bad, upsetting, and coming to terms with that fact, it was almost impossible. But times like this, when the newness of the move threatened to drag a family already entrenched in suffering into the depths of despair, a little optimism was needed. Especially for her father, who had a great capacity for worry, for glass half empty thinking.

"So...Starcourt? Heard it's quite the spectacle." Her mom suggested.

"Yeah, I've heard the same…" Mary ran her finger along a jagged line that had appeared in her nail polish on her left thumb, threatening to crack the whole veneer.

"So...you talked to more than just teachers today?"

"I guess you could say that…" Mary shrugged, hoping to forget about school, about Jenny Clarkson, about the terrible thing she had to do to a boy who had been nothing but nice to her…

Her mom was quiet for a minute, thoughtfully rolling to a stop as a light turned yellow. "You only guess? Were you talking to imaginary friends?"

"I wouldn't call them friends," Mary proffered. "Acquaintances."

As Hawkins was a small town, the drive to Starcourt might have been short, but it felt like they'd arrived on a different planet. The parking lot was full of teenagers, soccer moms, and every other type of person you could think of that might want something to do other than play chess in the park surrounded by pigeons on a Monday afternoon. Her mother found a space, slid easily between the lines, and shoved the gear into park. It was an awkward silence between them, mostly felt by Mary, who didn't know how to navigate conversations with her mother ever since they moved. Their lives felt so fragile, on the brink of destruction and doom, that even talking about them felt dangerous. Especially anything to do with school lately.

She could tell her mom was thinking of ways to approach the subject as well, being a wise and incredibly intelligent woman whose intuition matched that of a clairvoyant. "I know the cool kids probably aren't wearing JC Penney, but you know your dad just took a huge pay cut with his new job…"

Mary shrugged, unbothered. "I don't mind. I can make do with what we have."

They found the department store between a Camelot Music and a mom and pop haberdashery that sold a lot of fedoras and tennis visors. Walking inside, they found the teen clothing rather quickly, and, while sifting through a pile of neatly folded cable knit sweaters, her mom found the courage to broach the subject of school again. Much to Mary's dismay.

"So...these acquaintances," she said, unfolding a dark orange one and showing her daughter how it looked on her own frame. Mary giggled, motioning for her to keep it, and so she draped it over her arm. "I assume one of them is a boy."

Sometimes it scared her how much her mother knew just by reading her daughter's facial expressions and body language. Of course, she didn't know that Eddie was not a love interest in the way that she was thinking, the way it was intended, but she was close. Close enough for discomfort to settle in and Mary felt herself getting hot, her cheeks beginning to feel like they caught fire.

"Yes, one of them," Mary replied, looking through a collection of acid wash denim. "But, he's not an interest, not like that. He's...very different. No one likes him...he's not the type I would really hang out with, but he's my Chem lab partner."

"Nothing wrong with different," her mom shrugged, taking a pair of the acid wash jeans as Mary handed them over to her. "What's he like?"

"He's a weirdo," Mary scrunched her nose and started walking away, looking around at all the neon that didn't seem to fit in with the autumnal weather waiting for them outside. "A complete weirdo. But he likes Lord of the Rings."

"My kind of fella," she said. "Sorry, fella is outdated, I know. Dude?"

"Sure, mom," Mary laughed. "He's your kind of dude."

"So...tell me more about him. Can I know his name?"

"His name is Eddie…" She replied, the word feeling so hollow, so strange as she spoke it aloud.

"Eddie." Her mother repeated, so innocent. She didn't know what her daughter had become and Mary hoped, prayed, that she never did.

She hurried to change the subject before she asked more about him. "I made the cheerleading squad."

"Oh hon!" Her mom stopped in the middle of looking through thick, puffy parkas that Mary was sure would make her look like a living marshmallow. "That's so wonderful! I told you, piece of cake."

"I could sure go for a piece of cake right now."

"Oh, yeah," her mom nodded, looking very serious all of the sudden. "Definitely. But we promised your dad we'd bring home real food."

"It is real food, it's just...more sugar than he was expecting."

"Let's forget the cake for now, you know I can't have it either," her mom winked, and the impishness of it made her flashback to Eddie and his stupid, mischievous, wide-set pumpkin grin. With a twinkle to match.

"Fine. Can I get these then?" She held up a pair of loud, enormous boots and her mother shook her head, her eyes wide.

"What uh...what on earth are they?"

"I think they're called moon boots."

"Let's go ahead and just…" Her mom took them gently from her hands, putting them down. "Forget those existed…."

They shared a laugh and Mary took the pile of clothes from her mother, trying not to accentuate the fact that she moved a little slower, breathed a little heavier, and had to take more breaks while shopping than before. She looked so sallow, so pale under the bright, white-washed lights, and it made Mary's heart break a little more. It wasn't that long ago that her mother was a bronzed, beautiful, vivacious woman whose laugh could coax a smile of admiration, of wonder, from just about anyone.

"Come on," Mary gave her mom a half-hearted smile as she stood bent over an empty customer service counter, struggling to breathe a little. "Let's go get some food and get you home."

She took her mother's hand knowing, someday, probably soon, things were going to change so much.