Chapter 3
Elevens POV:
Hawkins High Boarding School is comprised of large, old buildings arranged in a circle around an equally as massive grassy area. A mossy fountain stands in the middle, water streaming steadily from it. I'm definitely going to get lost here. What I'm assuming is the main building stands across from me, and after a long walk during which I was very tempted to use my powers, I find myself standing in front of a pair of double doors. Slowly, I push the door open, looking around for signs of any people. Luckily, I seem to be alone. To my left, there are another set of double doors adorned with a sign reading "Main Office". Making my way to the room, I hesitate at the door, my hand hovering over the handle. My eyes close as I take a deep breath.
Inside the office, an older woman with a frizzy updo is sitting at a fancy wooden desk, peering through the frames of her bright red glasses at a small, musty-yellow computer. When she hears me enter, she finishes typing something and looks up at me reluctantly. I stand in the doorway, waiting for her to say something. She coughs impolitely and stares back at me.
"I need my room key." I say bluntly. She huffs, muttering something under her breathe as she clicks away on her laptop a few times.
"Your name?" she says
I hesitate again.
"El-Eleven." I'm still not used to telling people my name, always worried it might lead bad people to me. What I am used to, however, is the response I get from people when I tell them my name.
"Eleven?" she repeats, looking at me for a moment, unbelievingly. I guess she's expecting me to relent and give her a real name. I only nod, slowly, glaring at her. Daring her to ask again. She sighs before flicking through a pile of papers. It doesn't take long for her to find the one that says my name, clearly surprised that I was, in fact, not lying.
"Here you go then," she says, handing me the piece of paper and a small key. "Your room will be in building two, take the left hall and follow the numbers till you find yours." She taps the paper to indicate a room number written at the top of the page. I nod, taking my suitcase by the handle and thanking the woman. She ushers me away and turns her attention immediately back to her computer.
Finding the building is exhausting, hauling around my suitcase as I check the number displayed on each one. I walk through hall after hall until I find my room. Looking down at the piece of paper in my hand and again at the number on the door, I check that this is the right room one last time. Slowly, I open the door and look into the room. Although someone else has clearly been in here- there are clothes scattered across one of the beds and a skateboard is lying in the middle of the floor- no one seems to be here right now. Taking a deep breath, I look behind me before entering the room and quickly shutting the door.
The room isn't the nicest, but it also isn't ugly. Two small single beds are positioned on opposite sides of the room, each accompanied by a bedside table and a small lamp. A large window takes up almost half of the main wall, but pastel blue curtains shut out most of the light from outside. Depositing my suitcase on the spare bed, I begin to unload my clothes and rearrange them in the closet. I'm assuming the other girl will want to share it, so I only take up the half closest to my bed. When I'm finally done organising everything that I brought, I decide to put my suitcase on the top shelf of the closet. At first, I think it will be easy enough, but soon I realise that I am far too short and the suitcase is far too heavy. I stand there, struggling for a few minutes. I try balancing it on my head, standing on the bed, everything I can think of.
Eventually I give up, sitting down on my bed, frustrated. Then, a thought occurs to me. I look behind me, to check that the curtains are closed. I'm completely alone right now, there's no way anyone can see me. I may as well use my powers. Hopper wouldn't be happy, but here isn't here now. I stand up and focus my attention on my suitcase. I'm just about to lift it when I hear the door handle turn.
Startled, I spin around, sucking in my breath, ready to scream. Saliva catches in my throat, sending me into a fit of coughs. At the same time, a red head appears from behind the doors. I clear my throat frantically as a girl, who I can only assume must be my roommate, stares at me with concern in her bright blue eyes.
"I'm- I'm okay." My eyes are full of tears and I am more than slightly embarrassed. The girl doesn't seem to mind though and apologises profusely for walking in unannounced. Once she's sure I'm okay she introduces herself.
"Hi, I'm Max. I guess we are roommates," her bright red hair hangs in a long braid over her shoulder, which is covered by a yellow and pink striped top.
"I'm Eleven," I say, sitting down on my bed with a quiet sigh.
"That," Max says, mirroring my position on her own bed, "is a freaking cool name."
It gets late very quickly, so Max and I head to the school's dining hall where dinner is being served. I wrinkle my nose as a woman wearing a hairnet piles my plate with sloppy mashed potatoes and meat. Max laughs when she sees my expression.
As we are walking to find somewhere to sit, Max whispers in my ear "Don't worry, the food will get better. They never put in any effort on the first day because most people won't show up until tomorrow." I grimace as we settle on a table that isn't too close to any of the other small groups.
"So, you're new here?" Max asks, "Or am I just that obnoxious that I've never noticed you?"
I smile, looking down at my food. "No, I'm new. My…"
-flashback-
"Papa!" I scream, struggling to break free of the men who are dragging me down the hall. But Papa looks on as I am thrown into a small room, the door closing, leaving me in darkness. He doesn't help me… does he even love me?
'Papa' I write above my drawing of a white-haired stick-figure man, holding hands with a short, bald girl. Of course he loves her… he has to.
-present day-
"My Dad," I say, picking up the charade where I left off, "He had to move temporarily for work and he couldn't take me with him so he sent me here." Technically most of what I'm saying isn't completely a lie. In a way, I do see Hopper as the father I never had, and it is his work that's sent him away and in turn sent me here. It's less what I'm saying and more what I'm leaving out that makes my every word- my every action, even- a lie. Max nods and says something empathetic, and I try my best to concentrate on her. She has nails that are painted red, and a bracelet of blue wooden beads on her wrist. Focusing on here and now, I ground myself and focus my thoughts away from the past, at least for the moment.