Chapter 1
The first thought Jamie Henderson had when that thing sunk its teeth into her flesh was 'I'm gonna lose my leg!'. The second was: 'Why is it not hurting more?' Those two thoughts, clear as day, in that same split second that seemed to stretch on eternally. Why is it not hurting more? Then time started moving again and Jamie Henderson screamed.
The monster had closed its entire flower-petal head over her leg and bitten down. Hundreds - thousands - of teeth bursting through her skin, tearing through the soft tissue and hitting bone. Blinded by the blazingly hot pain, Jamie instinctively tried to yank her leg back, only causing a saw-like effect through her muscles. That thing's entire head was made of mouths and teeth and Jamie held her breath in anticipation for it to rip its powerful neck back and tear off her entire left leg from thigh down.
"JAMIE!" A girl -had to be Nancy- cried out through a haze of needle-stabbing pain. Other shouts joined in, panicked and chaotic. Jamie still screamed, soundlessly, struggling to get enough air into her lungs. Instead of the monster jerking backwards to rip flesh from her bone like she would pluck chicken-meat from wings, it took some slow and powerful steps backwards, dragging her along with it. Her clothing stuck on the rough wooden floor and her fingers scrambled for hold - it was taking her to the opening, to its world.
Three pair of arms grabbed her upper body and arms to hold her back.
"JAMIE! HOLD ON!"
"TAKE THE AXE! JONATHAN!"
"HOLD ON, JAMIE, JUST-"
Caught in the middle of a deadly tug of war, Jamie prayed her leg would come off to be free of the gnawing stabbing whenever either party gained some traction. Her fingers curled around Steve's arms - she did not want to die. She did not want to die!
Steve shouted something, right by her ear, drowned out by the chaos around them. Jamie bit her jaw together, but now felt her fingers going numb, her grip slowly loosening. No, no, no, no, no! Her leg felt like it was on fire, literally burning away to ashes, and she thought of that horrifying mouth and that slime and that time Tommy H had dared her to lick a venomous frog when they were in pre-school and her tongue had numbed down to nothing and-
Jamie couldn't scream anymore. Her vision swam. She stared at Steve, tried to focus, tried to speak, but only managed a single word: "Help."
The monster yanked its body backwards and Jamie was sure her body tore in half. Next it was dark.
"Nightmares?"
"Yes."
"Same dream as before?"
"Yes. Teeth and...darkness."
"And you can't remember anything more from the incident? Or that night?"
"No, just...teeth and darkness."
"Okay." Long pause. "You're still taking your medication? Three times a day, before meals?"
"Yes."
"'Atta girl."
Jamie Henderson had not really been friends with Nancy Wheeler before the Incident that took place last year. They were in the same grade and their younger brothers were best friends, making Jamie and Nancy somewhat polite acquaintances that smiled close-lipped when they met in the school hallway and made awkward smalltalk whenever family obligations drove them together. They had somewhat of the same status in school, both were considered bookish and smart, but somehow Nancy was on speaking-terms with most of the school and Jamie was invisible to everyone but her friends in the Physics and Engineering club. It was, as Jamie had reflected on a few occasions, highly unfair, but could also be explained in three words: Nancy was pretty. Actually, Nancy Wheeler was beautiful and she had this wonderful personality that was wasted on someone so good-looking, where Jamie had struck out on both.
This explained why Nancy had received an invitation to Tina's Halloween Party, and Jamie had not.
"We're going!" Nancy announced while bouncing on the balls of her feet. Jamie looked at the bright orange paper in her hands before looking up at her fellow outcast Jonathan Byers who gave her a desolate shrug. They had not exactly been friends before either, and were still only in each other's company because of Nancy, but both of them could at least appreciate the dark anxiety at the thought of attending a high-school party usually only reserved for the School's Elite.
"Uhm," Jamie said, pretending to read the glaringly short invitation while the school's body of population milled around them in the hallway. A crude drawing of a ghost and a beer-bottle, and the words 'Come and get sheet-faced'. The pun was so bad it was almost funny. Nancy's energetic smile made Jamie's bravery waver. "I kinda already have plans..."
"What, get Connor's older brother to buy you two beers each and watch R-rated horror movies in Frankie D's basement like you're thirteen years old?" Nancy asked with her usual nerve-wrackingly perceptiveness. She gestured to Jonathan, who stood awkwardly with his camera over his shoulder. "Jonathan's going."
"No, I'm not," he quickly countered, and Nancy's face fell. Jonathan shifted the camera on his shoulder and nodded to both the girls. "I gotta go get these films developed."
He wandered off, sending Jamie a pitying look, ditching her in the hands of a socially scheming Nancy Wheeler.
"Uhm," Jamie said and tried to make it appear she was giving it due thought. "I don't know..."
"Oh come on! It could be fun, maybe you'll, like, meet someone!" Nancy said and was about to say something else before she erupted in shrieks and giggles. Steve Harrington, Nancy's boyfriend and star of the basketball-team, had appeared and physically lifted Nancy off the ground while spinning her around.
"Uh, hi," Jamie said quietly, but neither Steve nor Nancy had heard her, as they were both too busy bickering and making out in front of Nancy's locker. Jamie scratched the back of her head, fully aware of the blush creeping up her neck at the sight of the two teenage lovebirds. It did not help that she had had a pretty long-lasting and pitifully one-sided crush on Steve 'The Hair' Harrington since the beginning of middle school. She coughed and mumbled: "I gotta get to class..."
It was just an excuse to get out of there, but neither of them paid her any attention as she made her way down the hallway, tugging on her backpack that sat securely over both shoulders.
Okay, so, she and Nancy had not been friends when Nancy first started going out with Steve Harrington. Which meant that there was no reason for Jamie to feel guilty about the pretty horrid stuff she had written about Nancy in her diary, a full-up nasty word vomit that stemmed solely from jealousy. Now they were friends, pretty much forced together by last year's chaotic happenings, and Jamie knew, even if she didn't have many (read: any) girlfriends, that it was wrong of her to think of Steve the way she still did as long as he was going out with Nancy. It would have helped, too, if Steve hadn't been pretty vital in saving her life from that-
Jamie closed her eyes and tried to breathe. She tried to take deep breaths, in through her nose, out through her mouth, and she tried to ignore the tingling of her left leg where it had left its marks. She failed on all accounts.
"Watch it, Coma Girl!"
She opened her eyes just in time to see Tommy H inches away from her, a matter he resolved by shoving her to the side. Jamie hit the brick wall with her shoulder and oofed as it knocked the air out of her lungs. Vision swimming, more from memories than real-time pain, she stared at the moving backs of Tommy H and his clique. Carol, Tina, Ryan, Josh and someone that could only be the renowned new guy, fresh in from California that all the girls were swooning over. No-one in Hawkins High walked with that kind of swagger. None of them looked back.
Jamie grimaced and picked herself back up, looking at the other students who were all busy pretending they had not seen anything. A few were whispering behind their hands, so discreet everyone could hear them. At least last year she had been completely invisible. Now everyone knew her, even if it was only as Coma Girl. Making her way to the library, she crumpled the party-invitation into a ball and chucked it in the first trash can. Not even Nancy Wheeler could persuade her to attend that stupid party.
##
Claudia Henderson drove a goldenbrown-ish Chrysler that Jamie had stalled every single time her mom persuaded her to give driving practice a go. Now, every other Tuesday, it stood parked outside the curb of Hawkins High with the motor running, waiting for Jamie.
"Hi, sweetie!" Claudia said brightly and Jamie gave a grunted reply as she dumped her backpack in the backseat. Jamie knew her mom was a naturally positive and optimistic person with a bubbly personality, but sometimes - especially every other Tuesday - she wished her mom would just give it a rest. "Ready to go?"
"Yeah," Jamie grunted again and fastened her seatbelt. It was no secret that Jamie took after her dad more than her mom, and Dustin vice-versa. Claudia could talk for hours on auto-pilot, just like Dustin, while Jamie had trouble getting a few sentences out even in a one-on-one conversation. Trying to sink into her seat, ignoring the cat hairs that covered most of the car's interior, she willed the ride to stretch out into infinity. She hated every other Tuesday. She hated being excused from class. She hated being picked up by her mom. She hated the hour-long drive to the government-run facility that posed as a hospital. Most of all, she hated lying to her mom.
Officially, she had been attacked by a rabid animal. Everyone was fussy on the details, but everyone also knew the bigger picture. Animal-attack, five months in the hospital, three of them in a coma, miraculous recovery. This was what her parents thought had happened as well. That part was not exactly a lie. It had been an animal, of sorts. And she had been in a coma.
"Oh, that reminds me," Mom suddenly exclaimed and Jamie blinked to get back to real-time again. "I picked up your Halloween costume today."
"My Halloween-costume?" Jamie asked with furrowed brows. "Picked up from where?"
"You don't remember?" Mom's gaze darted between the road and Jamie with concern laced in her voice. "You wanted it last year, we - me and dad - thought you were still too young, and we made a deal that if you maintained A-average you could dress up as-"
"Madonna," Jamie finished, staring unseeingly on the road. The edgy pop-star had risen a couple of years back with a tomboy-style, coupled with bleached hair and heavy makeup, and she was everything Jamie wanted to be. She and Dustin had both memorized the entire choreography of the music-video to 'Holiday', not a fact she was willing to share with anyone living outside the Henderson House. Jamie's heart beat a bit harder in her chest as she mulled it over.
"But I missed an entire semester of school," Jamie pointed out and her mother scoffed good-heartedly.
"Well, to be honest, it was mostly your dad who had a problem with you dressing up as a cool rockstar, and he doesn't really get a say now, does he?"
Jamie tried to return her mom's strained smile. A lot had happened the last year, including the divorce. Still, the thought of dressing up like Madonna...she remembered the argument last year, how her father had opposed it firmly, claiming she was too young to be dressed like what he called a 'wannabe-prostitute'. She had desperately wanted that look, even though she now couldn't imagine herself wearing that while watching those illegally-copied horror movies Frankie's cousin brought back from Japan.
"Oh look, Joyce and Will are already here!"
The drive seemed to go by faster and faster and now they were pulling into the semi-abandoned parking lot of what posed as a hospital. Joyce - Mrs. Byers - and Will were indeed standing by their car, and so was Chief Hopper, who was smoking a cigarette and gave a gruff nod when Claudia chose the parking spot next to them. Joyce and Claudia hugged, two mothers united in their concern for their children, and then Claudia gushed over Will in that way that was mortifying for every pre-teen boy. Joyce pulled Jamie too into a quick hug, smelling of shampoo and cigarettes. Jamie and Will said nothing, but exchanged a small glance of comfort in joint misery.
"Shall we?" Claudia asked brightly and gestured to the ugly gray building that had a random collection of green plants by its entrance to give any semblance of hospitality and warmth. Jamie suspected there were more killers than healers inside, more suits than scrubs at least. Her leg tingled.
As a group, they walked in silence, having done this regularly for the last year. They always put Jamie and Will's sessions back-to-back, with the reasoning that Claudia and Joyce could split the driving between them if they wanted. Considering that Joyce was reluctant to let Will out of her sight for even a second, let alone allow him to attend these check-ups with a government-employed doctor by himself, Claudia probably could have gotten away without driving Jamie one single time. She did not though. Through the last year, Jamie could count the times Claudia asked Joyce take Jamie with her on one hand. It was usually when it was an emergency at work or when the sessions clashed with Dustin's orthodontist's appointments. It was not like she even went in with Jamie to the doctor's office, but she still drove her here, every other Tuesday. Jamie guiltily wished she wouldn't have, that it was Joyce and Chief Hopper only, so that they could speak freely about what happened. Claudia Henderson was probably the only one in the entire building that did not know what actually happened to Will, Barbara and Jamie last year.
Jamie had considered asking Claudia to stop taking her, that it was easier to just hitch a ride with Joyce or even the Chief, but could not bring herself to it. She suspected her mom was just trying to feel a little less helpless when it came to her child's well-being.
As always, Will was up first. His sessions were longer - and more frequent. As far as Jamie knew, Will had to come in at least once a week, and more often if the need arose - and because Joyce was the judge of that, they came up here quite often. So, in that sense, she supposed she should feel lucky. She did not.
"Want anything from the vending machine?" her mom asked and Jamie shook her head 'no'. "I'll go get some coffee then. Hopper?"
Hopper affirmed his wish for coffee and Claudia went down the hall to the cafeteria. The second she was out of earshot, Hopper asked: "You okay, kid?"
Jamie looked up from where she sat hunched over in her chair, elbows resting on her knees. Hopper had gone with Joyce into the dark dimension to get Will back. He might just be - and look like - a small town cop, but he was more capable than most. To answer his question, Jamie just shrugged. "Yeah."
"Look a little pale around the gills," Hopper persisted, still examining her with his police-born scrutiny. Jamie just shrugged again. As far as she concerned, the only reason she was not okay was because she had to come here all the time. He was probably just projecting. Will had looked even paler than usual and skinnier, if that was possible. According to Dustin's less-than-accurate storytelling, Will had these...episodes every once in a while. Flashbacks of a sort. Yeah, Jamie thought as Claudia returned with two cups of coffee, she was indeed lucky compared to Will.
"Good afternoon, ladies," Dr. Owens said jovially as he came down the hallway, two pairs of clipboards in his hand. The so-called nurses must have finished their physical check-up of Will then. The doctor nodded to Hopper and opened the door to let both himself and the Chief inside. "Chief. See you in a bit, Miss Henderson."
After what seemed like an eternity, Will and his mom came out from the check-up room along with Chief Hopper. Joyce smiled, even if it was strained, and indicated it was Jamie's turn.
"Sure you don't want me to go with you?" her mom asked, like she did every time.
"It'll go faster if you don't," Jamie just muttered and Claudia nodded sadly, but recovered fast enough.
"All right, I'll be down with Sheryl if you need me."
Sheryl was the stone-faced black woman that manned the reception desk at the so-called hospital. It had taken Claudia two visits before she had struck up a friendship with the woman, and now Jamie would not be surprised if her mom knew all the names and ages of Sheryl's kids, nieces and nephews. This was another trait Jamie desperately wanted to inherit, the ability to make friends as easy as breathing.
All thoughts of her mother went out of her head when she stepped inside the check-up room. It was spacious, plenty of windows, but it was cold and somehow still felt claustrophobic. The nurses were adjusting the chair to fit her size rather than Will's, and Jamie was directed to the medical weight scale. Doctor Owens excused himself to have a quick chat with Joyce and Hopper while Jamie was subject to a full physical-check up. She averted her gaze when told to undress, refusing to look at the mess of muscles and tendons that used to be her left shin and knee. She looked away when the nurses took her blood too, queasy at the sight of the large needle.
"Okay, so, how are we doing today, Jamie?" Doctor Owens asked when he was back inside the room, Jamie now fully dressed again and strapped to the strange chair.
"Fine."
"All right, that's good. You're still losing weight, Jamie, have you had any changes in your diet?"
"No, I just...I'm not hungry."
He recorded this. "Uh-huh. Well, you're still in a healthy weight range, but closing in on underweight. I'll talk to your mom about adjusting your meals a bit, add more proteins and fats. You're seventeen, still growing!"
Doctor Owens chuckled, while Jamie only nodded politely. He continued with his questioning: "Okay, so, any dizziness the last couple of weeks?"
"Some," Jamie admitted and shifted in her chair. "When I stand up too fast, or - or when I think too much about that."
"Okay. You think about it a lot?"
"No, try not to."
"Remember how we talked about that it's healthy to talk things through? I understand it's difficult to talk about it with your mom, but whenever you're ready, we have several on-site specially trained thera-"
"I don't remember anything from that night," Jamie countered, cutting him off. It was the same procedure every time.
Doctor Owens regarded her a few seconds, as if he was considering calling her bluff. "No new recollections?"
"No, just teeth and darkness. Same as before."
"Nightmares?"
"Same as before."
"Okay," Doctor Owens said, his voice more serious, but still not defeated. "Any other things to report? Mood-swings? Light sensitivity? Swollen joints?"
"No, nothing." Jamie sighed and shifted in her seat. She hated this. "How long do I have to keep coming here?"
Doctor Owens did not sigh, but put down his clipboard and gave Jamie his best, comforting doctor-smile. "Jamie, we talked about this. You know the antidote you were injected with was a prototype." Read: highly experimental. "Side-effects can lay dormant and materialize years or even decades later. To ensure your well-being, we need to monitor your health-status regularly." Read: we don't want to get sued. "But, as things have been pretty stable for quite some time now, we can probably look at you coming in here once a month, rather than every two weeks, how does that sound?"
Jamie admitted it sounded better, even if she would have preferred to just walk out of there right away and never come back. Doctor Owens, satisfied with her response, returned to business as usual.
"Still taking your medicine?"
Jamie nearly rolled her eyes. The chair was giving her a headache. "Yes."
"Okay, good. Any plans for Halloween?"
"What?" Jamie looked at the doctor, who had gone completely off script. Now was usually when he asked her about when she took the pills and how many a day.
Doctor Owens smiled. "Halloween! I assume you're not going trick-or-treating like young Will is. Do you have any plans? Party perhaps?"
"Uhm...me and a couple of friends, we usually have like a movie-night."
The doctor's smile remained fixed and disarming. "Any alcohol?"
"What?"
"The Stablon we have you on, have you read the prescription label?"
"Uh, I think my mom-"
"You are aware that it is not safe to mix with alcohol?"
"What do you mean not safe?" Jamie asked, head reeling from this sudden change of pace.
"Mixing tianeptine, the active ingredient in Stablon, with alcohol can have some unwanted side-effects. Just so that you keep that in the back of your mind. Trust me on this, chocolate is better - and safer. Feel free to have as much as you want tomorrow, need to pack a few pounds back on."
They ended the session with a quick walkthrough of her general health, in which all looked fine. Jamie was sent back out while Doctor Owens had a quick chat with her mom. From what she had learned, her mom just received most of the same questions as Jamie did ("Is your daughter experiencing any mood swings? Any changes in personality?"), but Jamie loathed not being able to hear her mom's answers. She always wondered if her mom was saying something that forced her to come back here every two weeks.
Jamie plumped down in a chair next to Will without saying anything. Hopper had warned them both to be careful what they said while they were in the building, he was certain they were being recorded. Will did not look up at Jamie, rather concentrating on his drawing of the Ghostbusters-logo. That tugged at Jamie's lips. They were going as Ghostbusters for Halloween and Dustin had spent a few weeks now making his proton pack and a somewhat functioning Muon Trap. Will was having some troubles with his drawing, his right hand trembling slightly. Jamie frowned again. His sessions were more about his mental health than his physical, and Jamie could tell it was a lot more taxing than just getting a bodily check-up.
"All right, Jamie-baby, are you ready to go?" Claudia asked as she emerged from the hallway, putting some papers - more prescriptions - into her purse. She turned to Joyce. "We always stop by Burger King on our way home, you want to join us?"
"No, no, we have leftovers at home," Joyce said, completely missing the excited look appearing and subsequently disappearing on her son's face. "Bob's joining us for dinner, so...Jonathan's heating it up for us."
"Okie-dokie," Claudia chirped and took Jamie's arm to walk outside with her. She whispered conspiratorially. "We're getting milkshakes too, doctor's orders. Don't tell Dustin."
##
"I still can't believe you got Hershey's Chocolate Hand Spun Shakes without me."
"It's not good for your teeth, Dusty."
"Like one creamy, luscious and chocolatey sweet shake would do permanent damage to these pearly whites?" Dustin complained again, reciting the most annoying commercial on television right now for Burger King's Shakes of '84. "I know my toothbrushing, mom, 2:3o minutes, twice a day."
"This was a special treat for Jamie, Dusty-bear. You know, these check-ups aren't fun all the time."
"What, so, if I get stabbed in the arm with a couple of needles I get a milkshake too?"
"Dusty!"
Jamie pretended not to see the gestures her mom made her way, trying to convey to Dustin that he needed to show more tact. She focused on her bowl of soggy cereal, tuning out the other occupants of the kitchen. Last night, their mom had picked up Dustin from the Wheelers, then he had found the empty milkshake cups and had not shut up about it since. Jamie had heard him complain all the way up the stairs and even while doing his so-called 2:30 toothbrushing about this unfairness. He probably had a point, their mom did discriminate between the two of them, but Jamie would easily have given up all treats and gifts just to go back to the way things used to be.
The cat - Mews - strutted into the kitchen, purring by Claudia's legs and was rewarded with a re-fill to his food bowl. The little head bent down to eat and every time he did, he pulled back his little cat lips to reveal a white set of teeth. Small, pointy, needle sharp and she had had thousands of those in-
"Hellooooo, this is Earth, calling Planet Jamie!"
Jamie blinked and recoiled from the chubby hand waving half an inch in front of her face.
"W-what? Did you say something?" Jamie stuttered, struggling to bring the real world back into focus. Dustin returned to his seat with a huff and brought up his semi-functioning Muon Trap. Claudia sent her a concerned look, one that Jamie tried to ignore as best she could.
"Okay, so check this out!" Dustin said, in a voice that indicated this was a repeat-performance. He flicked a switch on the trap and it sprung open. Switch back, trap shut. Jamie, with a spoon of cereal halfway to her mouth, met her brother's unfamiliar grin. It was the same grin, it was just the teeth that were new. He mistook her deadpanned expression for silent awe and repeated showing of the trap's mechanism. "Pretty cool, huh?"
"I guess?"
Dustin, not one to be perturbed by someone else's lack of enthusiasm, jumped up to sit on the kitchen table and opened up a small panel on the trap. "Okay, so I got this chain-drive system here to open and close the trap, driven by this tiny AC-motor, but it only works like 90% of the time and I thought maybe it was some bad connection, but I looked at the soldering and I can't find any crossovers."
"Okay?" Jamie said and pushed away the small circuit board Dustin had shoved into her face so she could actually see it.
"Okay, so, yeah, can you give me a hand?"
"Uh," was Jamie's only reply as she turned the board over in her hands. What was she even looking for? She had known this stuff before, right? She was just out of practice. The soldering was a patchwork of droplets, Dustin's less than sophisticated style, but she could not for the life of her concentrate enough to follow the circuit through. Dropping the board and rubbing her temples - headache acting up again - she shrugged. "I can't help you."
"Oh,"Dustin said and returned the board to its position into the trap itself. Jamie stared into the table while again ignoring the silent exchange between her mom and her brother. Dustin had thrown his hands out in exasperation, while his mother just shook her head to make him back off. Jamie returned to her cereal, now just a mashed up mess of cornflakes and milk, while Claudia twittered something about a photo session to document Dustin's Halloween-costume. In Middle School they still dressed up for the whole day - Jamie suspected half the student body would be suspended for indecency if the high-schoolers showed up to school in their Halloween costumes.
Dustin biked to school, proton-pack on his back, while Jamie got a ride from Claudia. It was on her way to work anyhow. Last year, Jamie took the bus. On the ride, in-between the mindless chatter of her mom, she was prompted about her medication.
"You took two this morning? And you brought it with you to take two at lunch?"
"Yes, mom."
"Remember to take it on an empty-"
"Empty stomach, yes, I know, mom."
It was the same every day. Every week. Every month. Her grades were slipping too, but her mom was still tip-toeing around her, too afraid to upset her by asking about it. Suited Jamie just fine, she did not appreciate all these conversations centered around her wellbeing.
"Have a nice day, sweetie!" her mom called after her and Jamie responded with a grunt and slamming the door behind her. She was supposed to have taken her driver's license during spring, but had unfortunately spent that time at the hospital. In a coma. Now she probably was the only junior at Hawkins High that depended on their mom to drive them everywhere.
Leaving her mom sitting in the car, Jamie made her way to her locker, one that she was lucky to have right next to Carol. The tiny brunette leaned against her own locker, surrounded by her female friends, scrutinizing Jamie's appearance from top to bottom. Jamie bowed her head down and concentrated on getting the combination right. Just as she got the locker open, Carol drawled from behind the door:
"Oh God, Henderson. Didn't anyone tell you that acid wash went out of style while you were in a coma?"
One of her nameless groupies answered. "I wouldn't really say that she was a fashion icon before her coma either."
Ignoring the incessant giggling and the flaming sensation happening in the base of her neck, Jamie grabbed the textbooks she needed and slammed the locker shut. Carol said something more to her, something that the general murmuring of the hallway luckily drowned out. Jamie checked her watch, a clunky Casio G-Shock she inherited after her dad, and figured the guys would all be in the physics lab before first period.
They were and predictably they were in the middle of a heated discussion, usually concerning trivial matters like what resistance would prevent the newest gadget from overheating and/or explode.
"All I'm saying is that the formula dictates that it should be at least 120 kilo ohms, at least, Dickson!"
"Then you're basically just terminating the circuit, Lou! Why bother with a resistor, why not just direct it straight to ground and let your magical dreams power the generator!"
Louie, a tall and lanky kid with inch-thick glasses, stuttered in his eagerness to prove Frankie Dickson wrong. "W-wh-when we built this last year-"
"We did not build this-"
"WHEN WE BUILT THAT WORKING SELF-MOVING VACUUM THAT IS BASICALLY THE SAME THING AS," Louie shouted before calming down, "this self-cleaning sandwich maker, Henderson had us use 120k's to stop the leds from melting." Louie pushed the glasses up on his face and gestured towards Jamie. "Henderson! Tell this imbecile that my equation is correct."
Jamie looked at the board where his chicken-scratches ended with an answer of 120 000 ohms. The guys all watched her, even Connor had paused his wiring to look at her. She shrugged, not bothered to make an effort. "Looks right? I don't know."
Louie, Frankie D and Connor - all three honorary members of the PhysEng-club - stared at her in silence.
"Well that settles it," Frankie snorted and Louie made a rude gesture his way. Frankie was permanently tan, with thick black hair and an ever present downy mustache grazing his upper lip. Connor was half Chinese and stood at least a foot shorter than Louie. He bent back down to focus on wiring the mechanism together. There were a couple of other guys in the club as well, less dedicated than this trio, but no other girls than Jamie.
"You okay, Henderson?" Louie asked, pushing his glasses up again.
"Hm? Yeah, I'm fine," Jamie said and realized that she had just stood there awkwardly while they were working. "Uh, what time are we supposed to meet up tonight?"
The silence that followed was deafening. Jamie knew she had said something wrong, but had no idea what. She tugged awkwardly on the long acid-wash jean shirt she was wearing. Frankie, Lou and Connor all exchanged glances, neither of them wanting to be the first one to say something. Instead they all started at the same time.
"Uh, we're kinda dropping movie night-"
"-planned it back in May or something-"
"-didn't know if you were coming back-"
"-thought you had plans with Harrington and-"
"-not sure if you were into that kind of-"
"Guys, please!" Jamie said, raising her voice ever so slightly. This was giving her a headache. Rubbing her temple with one hand, she squinted at them. "There's no movie night this year?"
"Uh, no, we - uh - we got tickets for the pre-screening of 'Nightmare on Elm Street'," Frankie finally said after some false starts. "Made plans back in May."
"Oh, cool," Jamie said, briefly remembering seeing some trailers for the new slasher-fic being released this year. "Is it a dress-up kind of thing or...?"
"Uhhhh." Louie picked absentmindedly on a protruding zit on his chin. "We kinda only got three tickets. In May. When you were still-"
"In the hospital," Connor quickly filled in.
Jamie's stomach dropped to the pits of her feet. "Oh."
"We sort of assumed you already had plans with Harrington and the others, you know, because you hang out with them all the time now, Harrington and the others," Frankie explained with expansive hand-gestures. "In fact you hang out with Harrington and the others so much you're barely here anymore and..."
"Oh, yeah, no, totally," Jamie said to cover up the burning crawling up her neck. She looked down, swallowed that pesky lump now stuck in her throat, and smiled brightly when she straightened back up. "We're going to Tina's Halloween Bash. You didn't get an invite?"
Frankie's jaw had dropped. "You're going to Tina's Halloween Bash. With Harrington?"
"No, I'm not going with Steve specifically," she hastily said, lest she start some rumors that would tarnish her newfound friendship with Nancy. "There's a whole bunch of us going. Me, Steve, Nancy and...and Jonathan."
"Steve?" Frankie retorted in an incredulous tone, and Jamie now recalled the incessant teasing Frankie had endured at the hands of Steve Harrington during the years. "He's just Steve to you now?"
"Wait, wait, wait," Louie interrupted. "Jonathan as in Byers? Harrington's going with Wheeler, so you're going with Jonathan Byers?"
Jamie blinked, unsure what insecure teenage-hormone made her say this, but kept on going with it. "Yeah. Totally."
##
The costume was not as expected. First of all, it was the wrong Madonna.
Okay, so her mom hadn't accidentally picked up a costume for the literal Mother of God, not that wrong Madonna. But she had picked up a costume that was a knock-off what the pop-star had worn in her newest music video, not the 'Holiday'-look Jamie had craved since she first saw the video. Jamie stared at herself in the mirror, picking at the ruffles, looking very much 'Like a Virgin' in her all-white ensemble.
"Oh my GOD, honey, you look great! Oooh, stay right there, I gotta get the camera!"
Her mom had helped her with the hair and make-up first. Her usual brown curls were brushed out and teased and sprayed with 5oz. of hairspray so it fanned about her face like a lion's mane, a large white bow sitting on top as an out of place crown. She had never worn make-up like this either, her baby-blue eyes popping out of a sea of darkness from all the eyeshadow her mother had smeared on. Not that she would ever say it out loud, but she actually liked the lips. That was one feature they both inherited from their mom, full lips, and now they were painted a deep luscious red.
"Okay, so if you'd just stand right here, aaaaand say 'Halloween'!"
Jamie followed her mom's ministrations to document Halloween-night for both her children. The more pictures taken, the more Jamie started wishing she had gone as the Ghostbusters. The costume was tight, short, ruffled and extravagant. Every time she moved, the skirt hiked up, the bustier slipped down, the fishnet stockings twisted around or the long necklaces got stuck in the tulle of the skirt. The only thing staying put was the opaque black tights she wore underneath the fishnets. Her left leg looked scary on its own, but it was not the vibe she was going for with this costume.
She caught glimpses of herself in the mirror as her mom directed her into different poses. It did not look like her at all, which was a welcome fact at this point. If no-one recognized her, no-one could bully her later either. Of course, if that was the endgame, she could always copy her costume from last year when she had worn a hockey mask and carried a fake hunting knife. Before she got far enough in planning to change costumes without her mother noticing, a car honked from outside.
"That must be your friends!" her mom exclaimed and blissfully packed away the camera. According to the clock hanging on the living room wall, it probably was. Nancy had cornered her after AP English earlier, a class she used to enjoy but now every question seemed intent on making her doubt herself, grabbing her by the arm and walking with her down the hallway. Jamie wondered if this was how she used to act with Barbara, last year. With a bit more enthusiasm than Jamie thought necessary, Nancy had proclaimed that Steve could pick them both up at around eight-ish. It was now eight-ish.
"Okay, are you all set? Did you take your medication?"
"Yes, mom."
Claudia hesitated, making Jamie look up from where she was pulling on her wedged sneakers. The costume was bad enough without her wobbling around on white pumps too, so this was a compromise.
"Just...just know that you can call me, if it gets too much or something happens or you just want to come home, then call me. I'll come pick you up, any time and any place." To Jamie's horror there were tears poised in the corners of her mom's eyes. She sniffled and choked out: "Okay?"
The car honked again.
"Uh...sure, mom."
"Ev-even if you think you'll get in trouble. Call me, please."
Jamie stared at her mom, dressed up as a black cat to greet all the trick-or-treaters coming knocking by later on. She had picked up Mews while Jamie struggled with her shoes, and held the tabby cat close to her chest, giving some authenticity to her costume by adding real cat-hairs. "Uh, okay?"
"Okay. Have fun, baby."
Steve laid on the horn again just as Jamie got out of the front door. Steve and Nancy were sitting in the front seats of the dark-red BMW sedan Steve's dad had gotten him for his 16th birthday. It was an expensive car, but at least it had four doors and she could easily slide into the backseat, the blast of some rock-band streaming from the radio hitting her on the way in. For some reason, Steve had sunglasses on, but whipped them off when she got in the car to turn around and stare.
"Wow, Henderson!"
Nancy turned too and smiled. "Your costume looks amazing!"
They both looked amazing too, dressed up a bit more low-key as the main characters of the movie 'Risky Business'. Of course, Nancy and Steve could dress up as ewoks and still look amazing.
"Thanks," Jamie said and tugged on the ruffled skirt, now creeping up her thighs. "Uh, my mom got it for me."
Which might have been the single un-coolest thing Jamie had ever said. Despite this, Steve nodded.
"Cool." He started the car - purring it into first gear - and cruised down the brightly lit street, riddled with Halloween decorations and dressed-up kids.
"Uh, wher-where's Jonathan?" Jamie asked, as she was the single occupant of the expansive backseat. She tried not to touch the interior too much. There were stories going around about the backseat of Steve's Beemer.
"Byers?" Steve asked quickly. He looked between the road and Nancy. "Didn't know he was coming with us? Do we have to go back to pick him up?"
"Oh, he promised his mom to go trick-or-treating with Will and the guys, he'll come by later," Nancy said dismissively. Steve must have given her a look, because she shrugged excessively. "He needs to get out more. Don't worry, I think he'll be his own ride."
The car fell silent, apart from the music. Compared to the sleek costumes Nancy and Steve were in, Jamie felt like an overstuffed birthday cake back there. This was her first ever high-school party, not counting the countless movie nights with just enough beers to give them a buzz in Frankie D's basement. What if all high-schoolers wore these kind of discreet costumes? What if all the other people going to the party had boyfriends or girlfriends? It was bad enough being the third wheel on Nancy and Steve's wagon. Hopefully Jonathan would be at the party, so they could be awkward together rather than alone.
It was a twenty minute drive to Tina's house. Her parents were away, a long and tried tradition on Halloween, and their house sat on the edge of the block, away from any neighbors tempted to call the police on loud music or underage drinking. They heard the music long before they saw the house, the incessant thumping overpowering Steve's car-radio. Cars were parked at random as far as fifty yards from the house and it looked like the party had overflowed from inside the four walls to outside. It was a warm night, but still the night to November 1st and it could not have been more than 50 degrees out. That did not appear to phase the high-schoolers in their various states of undressed. She had not needed to worry about her costume being over the top. At least it was a complete outfit.
Jamie's palms were sweaty underneath the white lace gloves. It was like an oven inside, heated by the excessive amounts of hot, sweaty teenagers jumping and grinding away at the dance floor. Ten seconds indoors and it was pretty obvious why there were so many outside in the yard. At once, the hair clung to the back of her neck. There - were - people - everywhere! On the couch, on the dance floor, on the stairs, draped across the bannister, sitting on the kitchen counters. It was hard to believe there were this many people in Hawkins, let alone attending Hawkins High.
"I'll get us some drinks!" Steve shouted over the music and left Jamie and Nancy by the open door to the backyard. There were a throng of people hovered around some large metal drums, chanting loudly at one person who was doing a handstand on one of the barrels.
"Twenty-one! Twenty-two! Twenty- OOOOOOHHH!"
The guy tipped forward over the barrel and face-planted on the grass. It earned a chorus of laughter and hoots from the crowd. One of the taller guys shouted something and in no time, he was on top of that barrel instead. The end of a hose was placed in his mouth and the crowd started counting in synch again.
"One! Two! Three!"
This guy made it to twelve before he started choking on what could only be beer and keeled over too.
"How men are in charge of the world when they engage in contests like this are beyond me," Nancy commented drily, having noticed where Jamie's attention was fixed. Her lip lifted in an unimpressed frown, as if just recalling an uncomfortable fact. "Steve holds the current record at Hawkins High. Don't let him try and defend the title, he won't be able to drive us home."
The record-holder in question burst through the crowd with three red solo-cups filled with orange fruit punch. He handed one to each and smiled: "What'cha talking about?"
"Girl stuff," Nancy replied with a tight-lipped smile before Jamie could even begin to form a reply. "Come on, let's go dance."
By dance, Nancy meant hang on the edge of the dance floor, watching the other people dancing. It was probably just a ruse to get Steve away from watching the competition outside. Jamie held onto her solo-cup like a lifeline. The punch had a bitter aftertaste, even though it looked like kool-aid, but it gave her something to do with her hands. Nancy clung onto Steve, talking in low voices between themselves, leaving Jamie stuck with a half-coherent guy dressed as Fred Flintstone trying to engage her in conversation.
"Don't think I'v-ve seen you beforsh?" He was so stooped over he was talking directly to her chest.
"Uh, I think we have History together? With Mrs. Kelly?"
"Whaaaat?"
She excused herself to get more punch. As she tried to figure out if there was a ladle or something to go with the punch bowl, the crowd outside erupted again with loud cheering and a name being shouted over and over again, barely heard over the loud Mötley Crue-song: "Billy! Billy! Billy!"
Another 'Like a Virgin'-Madonna - there were at least three of them at the party - came up to the punch bowl, gave Jamie a disdainful once-over, and dipped her entire empty cup into the bowl to fill it up. Aha. No ladle then. Not completely sanitary, but desperate times calls for desperate measures. Her throat was parched. The bitter aftertaste had to be imaginary, there was no trace of it now.
Nancy came over with a scowl to refill her cup. Behind her, Steve looked to be in some kind of staring contest with that new guy from California. He was apparently dressed up as someone allergic to shirts, as his bare chest gleamed underneath his black leather jacket. Tommy H, dressed up as Karate Kid, was right next to California-guy, getting up into Steve's face.
"Hawkins has a new Keg King," was Nancy's only explanation, coupled with an extensive eye-roll as she took a sip. She grimaced at the taste of the punch and turned to address a Floral Roman - he'd made a toga out of a floral bedsheet - who had downed an entire cup in one go. "Hey, what's in this?"
"Pure fuel!" he replied, not even looking her way. He repeated in a louder voice: "Pure fuel! Whoo!"
It ended in a burp, before he dived back into the party. Jamie stared into her cup. It didn't taste like actual fuel. It was probably some kind of caffeinated lemonade, like Gatorade, because she was feeling more awake by the minute. She was still hot though, sweating through her white bustier and tulle. To make matters worse, Nancy wanted to dance. She dragged Jamie by the arm out to the packed dance floor and began to move in a jerky rhythm to the rock song. Steve joined, but Nancy seemed to try and shut him out, dancing more towards Jamie than her boyfriend, ending up making them look like the most awkward threesome ever.
"I'm too hot!" Jamie finally shouted after three songs and pointed to her cup. Nancy nodded and reluctantly danced alone with Steve. The wedged sneakers seemed to have grown in height, as Jamie stumbled over to the kitchen. Sweat poured off her now, and she could only imagine how her mascara looked. Not that it mattered, she could just claim to be the Bride of Frankenstein or something if she looked too ghoulish. The punch bowl had been refilled and Jamie got a full cup of it. She downed it in one go, trying to quench her thirst. It was lukewarm, but it did not matter.
A couple were making out on top of the kitchen counter, but Jamie fumbled around them in search of some paper towels to dab her face with. "Pardon, pardon, excuse me." They either didn't hear her or didn't care, as their lips never released from each other's when she reached around them to grab a dishcloth. It came back with traces of both her lipstick and eyeshadow, and probably that fake beauty mark her mom had painted on too. She continued to wipe at her neck and further down in-between her breasts when she realized she was being watched.
Some guy wearing a hardhat and overalls had his jaw somewhere down by his knees, hypnotized by her motions down by her chest. Grimacing, she turned her hand and placed her middle finger in his line of sight, mouthing "Piss off!" when his head snapped up. Perv. He sidled off, leaving Jamie scowling, trying to cool off. Compared to at least two of the other Madonnas, she hardly filled out this bustier at all. Which was not fair, considering how she used to have plenty of extra meat on her bones, but it all centered further down on her hips and thighs. Another trait she got from her dad's side of the family, a solid pear-shape topped with a head full of wild curls. Family reunions looked like a gathering of Highland cows.
She snorted down into her cup. Highland cows. Classic.
"You look hot!" a guy dressed solely in a kilt and nothing else shouted to her. He offered to refill her cup and she let him.
"I know, it's like a sauna in here!" she shouted back and raised her cup in a small cheers, before taking a large gulp. The guy furrowed his brows and shook his head.
"No, I mean that- uh, never mind. I'm Darren!"
"I'm Jamie!" They toasted their cups again and drank more. And more. And more.
Time seemed to blur and lump together, the music seesawing in and out of focus. Before she knew it, she found herself hanging on the stairway bannister, talking to Darren who she thought was on the basketball team with Steve. Not that she heard a word he was saying, the music was too loud and the room was spinning too fast. Judging by the faraway look on his face, he wasn't saying anything worthwhile though, so it was probably okay.
Jamie squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again. The room was spinning really fast. She usually didn't get seasick, but apparently could get house-sick. Her stomach lurched and protested against the perceived motions. Maybe she shouldn't have eaten those chips left out on the kitchen table before, who knew how many hands had been grabbing and sweating in that bowl? Oh God. That was not a helpful thought.
Sweat prickling her upper lip, she shoved Darren to get his attention. "Where's the bathroom?"
She must have looked like a corpse, because he quickly pointed upwards on the stairs she was already on. Every step proved to be a challenge, her insides threatening to make an appearance with each elevation. More people in the hallway upstairs, but the bathtub-sign on one of the doors looked promising. One hand to her stomach, she grabbed the door handle with the other.
Locked.
"Oh, no, no, no," she muttered and swallowed thickly. The knob would not turn, even though she gave it a few more goes. Screw social conventions! With a tight fist, she knocked a dozen times on the door. And then a dozen more. Time was running out. The door rattled as she hammered on the flimsy wood. "Please let me in, I gotta throw up! Please, please, please, please-"
Someone grumbled from inside what sounded suspiciously like "Jesus Christ!", but that didn't matter because the door opened.
"Oh thank God," Jamie breathed and pushed the previous occupant out of the way. She dived for the toilet-bowl just in time as her stomach-contents came rushing up her throat. The liquid - still bright red - burned her esophagus and left her eyes stinging. Her back twisted and flexed with each wretch until only spit dribbled from her open mouth. Still nauseauted, she waited it out over the bowl until she heard a tell-tale click from beside her.
"Wh-why are you locking the door?" she asked while wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, soiling the white lace in the process. The guy who had let her in gave her a pitying stare with deep hooded eyes. It was California. Had to be. This was the first good look she'd gotten at him, but she didn't know of anyone else in Hawkins that would rock one ear-ring or a curly mullet.
"Because I still gotta piss and don't want any more freshman girls barging in here."
"Aw, gross," Jamie slobbered and flushed the toilet to get rid of the evidence. She stumbled to her feet. "Just lemme get out of here, I don't wanna see that."
She didn't get far. The room tilted and she had to scramble for a hold on the sink to stay upright. California stalked past her without giving her a hand. An unlit cigarette dangled from his mouth.
"Room still spinning?" he asked from over his shoulder. The jingle of a belt buckle made Jamie realize he was undoing his jeans and she turned away. Her feet didn't agree with her and she ended up tumbling into a ball next to the laundry basket.
To answer his question, she moaned a: "Yeaaah."
California had his back to her, fully focused on the task at hand. "Then you might wanna stay in here a little longer, you'll see."
He followed up this statement by doing what he'd come here for and she grimaced at the sound of guy-peeing. She'd sometimes hear Dustin get up at night and the noise seemed to echo through the house. It was like they made an effort to make it as loud as possible.
"Jeez," was her comment and she turned to face the wall next to her. It was cool marble, and she ended up resting her cheek on it. The guy finished his task, flushed, and was in the middle of doing up his jeans when Jamie felt another round coming.
"Move!"
She shoved at his legs and barely reached the porcelain in time. Stomach acid and fruit punch erupted out her mouth. The guy snickered from somewhere behind her. "Told ya."
Too occupied to speak, she settled for giving him the finger over her back. When there didn't seem to be more coming, she flopped down on her butt and pulled the handle a few times to make it flush again. One arm dangling across the toilet bowl, one hand on the floor to keep herself upright. California gave her an unreadable look from where he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, apparently applying baby oil to his chest.
"What the hell have you been drinking anyway?"
She pointed at the solo-cup standing on the sink, left there in her hurry to get to the toilet the first time. He picked it up with a tan large hand and sniffed the contents.
"Punch," Jamie slurred.
"I bet," he said and tipped the remaining contents into the sink. He went back to checking himself out in the mirror. "Here's a tip for ya, Madge. Stick with beer next time, at least you'll know the ABV."
Jamie's eyebrows went up and down and together before resting back in their place. "Som-someone spiked the punch?"
California snorted, in the middle of fluffing up his hair. He really liked looking at himself in the mirror. Now he tried out different expressions, winking at himself and biting his lip. "Everyone spiked the punch, baby."
"Oh." Jamie's head rolled sideways and her eyes slipped dangerously close. "I'm not supposed to have alcohol." She took a deep breath and blinked a few times to force her eyes back open. "I think I should just go home."
"Probably not a bad idea," the guy agreed. He was busy opening up the cabinets, picking out perfume bottles to sniff at, making a face at each one he didn't like. His eyes were really blue, even if they were half-hidden by his heavy eyelids. Jamie noticed this when he turned to look at her and subsequently rolled his eyes. Next thing she knew, he'd shoved the solo-cup back under her nose, but now it was filled with tap-water. "Rinse and drink."
She took a tiny sip, let it roll around in her mouth and dutifully spit it out in the toilet. Next sip she swallowed. Her stomach wasn't giving of any emergency alerts, but it was still not calm enough for her to go back down and join the party. In all honesty, she just wanted to go home and sleep. The previous buzz and energy she'd gotten from the punch had evaporated as fast as it came.
"You got a ride home?"
Her eyes had slipped close again and she opened them wide. California slipped in and out of focus. "Yeah. Yeah, I came her with Steve and Nancy."
This got his attention. He leaned on the sink and crossed a pair of muscular arms across his chest. "Steve Harrington?"
She nodded. "And Nancy."
"There's a trick I need to learn." He smirked, as if impressed despite himself."One thing to date two chicks at the same time, but to bring both of them to the same party...Ooh, that's on a whole 'nother level."
Jamie burped into her mouth. She did not have enough capacity to pay attention to any sentences longer than three words. "Whatever."
"You done puking?"
She shrugged, the best answer she could give. Her eyes were burning with the effort of keeping them open, it was much more comfortable to just let them fall shut. California said something that didn't register with her and she shrugged again, hoping it would make him leave her alone. No avail, as he grabbed hold of one of her arms and jerked her up to standing.
"If you puke on me I'll kill you, you got that?" he muttered and hefted her up so she was held upright by his own body. Her left arm was slung across his neck, where he held it in place. His other arm had a tight grip on her waist. He half-supported, half-carried her to the bathroom door, that opened to reveal a girl named Samantha that was in Jamie's year.
"Oh my God!" she blurted at the sight, but Jamie couldn't even keep her head up for more than a few seconds at a time to look at her. The costume was good. She was dressed as Siouxsie Sioux from Siouxsie and the Banshees. Why hadn't she thought of that, instead of this stupid Madonna-outfit? "Oh, Jamie! Uhm. Oh... I'm so sorry."
"'s okay," Jamie slurred from her place by California's side.
"So you know?"
"No? Know what?"
"That Jonathan left with Nancy Wheeler? Only, I heard that you guys were a thing, but - uh - maybe I heard wrong, I dunno?" Samantha said quickly, gesturing to Jamie and California with some sort of strange hand-motion that indicated togetherness.
"I'm not together with Nancy," Jamie mumbled, not that anyone seemed to hear it. From her position, she felt the low rumble vibrating through her when California talked in a low voice to Samantha, who managed to blush even through the heavy layer of white face-paint she had on. Jamie's eyes closed on their own, until she was jerked awake again by California maneuvering her down the stairs.
"Oy, Harrington!"
More moving, while Jamie's head lolled around like a badly hinged bobble-head. California almost threw her into the arms of someone, who luckily had enough strength to keep her upright as her knees were bending on their own accord. The person kept one arm around her to keep her from falling over.
"This yours?" California asked and Jamie rested her head on the other person's shoulder. Wisps of hair tickled her nose. Aha. Steve. California must have leaned close to Steve's face as well, because it was as if he was talking directly into Jamie's ear. "Heard your main chick left with someone else. Thought I'd be nice and at least let you take home the runner-up."
If Steve answered, Jamie didn't hear it. She fell asleep in Steve's arms and would forever hate herself for not even remembering it.
Thank you for reading. Please review if you have any kind of feedback or thoughts about the story. It would be greatly appreciated.