Jonathan Byers was Olivia Henderson's favorite person. He was her bestest friend.
Under any other circumstance, their way of meeting might deter some, but Olivia was always fond of the memory. Jonathan had tried relentlessly to get her to stop telling the story. He'd explain he was sick of the sympathetic looks when their peers realized they only became friends because they'd been shoved into the same locker by their respective bullies. Olivia always just figured it was a good conversation starter.
But Jonathan took care of Olivia.
Olivia always pegged the reason as him being so accustomed to being an older brother he just assumed the same dynamic with her from driving her to school to even bringing a spare lunch for her since she'd forget to pack one for herself. Nevertheless, she'd all but latched herself to his side.
In addition to being her chauffeur to school, Jonathan also ensured she'd be ready. Olivia was notorious for being tardy not out of laziness or disinterest but because she'd genuinely forget to get ready, much like this morning, which saw her in her backyard still donned in her pink nightgown with her knees dirtied by the fresh mud made by last night's showers. She was crouched near the tree that had laid tall since her family moved to Hawkins, her head tilted curiously to the right as she stretched out one of her hands which seemed to be holding what seemed to be trail mix.
"Come on, come on, come on," she muttered.
She'd neglected to notice the fact Jonathan had already pulled into the lengthy driveway at the front of her house, not to mention her mother sliding open the back door while clutching her robe around her shoulders.
"Olivia, honey," she calls, startling Olivia enough to drop the trail mix at the end of the tree. There was a crevice separating it from the ground, big enough to hold a few squirrels or even an opossum. "Jonathan's here!"
Olivia yelps, jumping to her feet, which were also still bare, the soles of her feet as muddy as her knees.
"I'm coming!" she yells back, uselessly trying to dust off the incriminating evidence she was doing anything outside of getting ready for school before running across the lawn up to the sliding door just in time to see Jonathan stepping in and disposing his shoes at the front door out of habit. He spots her and recoils.
"Are you kidding me?" he asks.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I promise I'll be ready in ten." Olivia says as she passes towards her bedroom.
"You need to shower first, you're covered in mud," Jonathan snaps, pointing accusingly at her knees. "What were you even doing?"
"I found the thing that's been eating up my whole bird feeder," Olivia explains, as if it makes up for the fact she and Jonathan would have to go to the front office again to explain why they were late, "and I saw this fat little squirrel. I chased it back to the tree in my backyard and well...I-I felt bad so I thought I'd give him some of Dustin's trail mix." The reason had sounded much better before Jonathan had arrived to interrogate her. Now she felt really, really silly.
"Just...go take a shower, get dressed, and we'll go. Come on," Jonathan said tiredly, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
"Okay," Olivia said, guilty. She made a quick trip to her bedroom to grab any necessities before rushing into the bathroom and locking the door behind her. While her nasty habit seemed to be tardiness, her brother's nasty habit seemed to be having an inability to knock.
Her shower was quick, enough to rid herself of all the dirt and muck she'd gathered outside in the backyard before almost slipping out of the tub to dry off, relentlessly yanking the towel through her hair in a useless attempt to dry it. She'd resembled something of a dandelion by the end of it, partially obscuring her vision as she gazes at herself in the mirror. She blows a raspberry, maneuvering her hair enough to find her purple toothbrush.
With her teeth nice and clean and part of the ends of her hair now a little chapped from accidentally getting toothpaste on it, she wraps her towel around herself to unlock the door and slip back to her bedroom without Jonathan noticing. From what she could hear he was talking to her mom about school.
She grabs whatever clothes she could find, hoisting her jeans up her waist, along with her purple sweater that made her furiously scratch in homeroom. Her sneakers were pulled on the wrong foot before she quickly switched them, grabbing her bag from where it hung on her chair before running back into the living room with, hopefully, enough time to spare that they wouldn't have to talk to Mrs. What's-Her-Face in the front office to receive a tardy slip to hand to their first period teacher.
"You ready?" he asks.
"Yes, yeah. I am. Bye, Mom," Olivia waves, running to the front door with Jonathan walking leisurely behind her. Weren't they going to be late? Olivia doesn't say anything, instead leading the way to Jonathan's car and waiting patiently by the passenger side for him to unlock the doors. "Will we make it?"
"If we ignore every speed limit sign and ignore stop signs, maybe," Jonathan says, but from his tone Olivia could tell he was joking. He unlocked the doors and she slipped inside, recoiling at how cold it was. She knew the heater was busted, so she didn't say anything, pulling her seatbelt over her waist and waiting patiently for him to climb in after her so they could head to school, the bane of his existence, more of a mild speed bump for her.
School wasn't exactly a place of mind nourishment, the place to escape home like those weird end of summer, back to school commercials would have you believe. Definitely not in Hawkins, Indiana anyway. As most typical high schools were, or from what Olivia's assumed since she watches chick flicks like they're going out of style, most of the student body were divided into cliques, defined by either their social status or lack thereof. With her blonde hair and fair face, it could be rightfully assumed Olivia would fit somewhere in with the preps or even the cheerleaders if she were just a little more athletically inclined.
Not that Olivia was particularly unattractive; she just never knew how to hold herself to truly stand out.
But even with her hunched shoulders, her niche interests that often put her on opposite ends of the popularity spectrum, Olivia didn't regret the day before it began just because she'd have to go to school, unlike Jonathan. In his defense, though, the male student body seemed more inclined to show their disinterest in brute strength than cruel words or side eyes.
The blonde turns to him now, unbeknownst to him since he seemed to be trying to stay true to his joke, passing through yellow lights and narrowly missing station wagons or old Mustangs trying to get to work, quite unperturbed by the honking and loud expletives they'd yell his way. Olivia always admired how he seemed to brush things off. Seemed to, anyway.
"I really am sorry," she said, breaking the silence.
The corner of Jonathan's mouth curved upward into a crooked smile. He couldn't help but lean over to squeeze one of her hands in his, a habit of his when he wanted to get through to her.
"You're good," he assures. "We'll be fine."
"I really did see a squirrel, you know."
"Believe me, I know."
"Do you think it knows I was trying to help?"
"Indubitably."
Another good thing about Jonathan? He never made her feel bad for being a little off. Quite the contrary, he enjoyed playing a part in it, humoring her. Perhaps it should anger her that it was like an infantilization to her character, that he had to act a certain way to appease her, but Olivia knew he didn't mean it that way. Olivia Henderson was weird and Jonathan Byers just didn't care. All that mattered was that they were friends, and he was her favorite person in the world.
The school parking lot was getting full. It seemed they weren't the only two arriving late. It was a Friday, though. Typical fashion, nobody was too anxious to go to class when they had the weekend to look forward to. But for someone like the pair of them, who were often tardy, it made things a little harder.
Jonathan makes an abrupt stop in the middle of the parking lot, narrowly missing a group of kids crossing, one of them standing out and eying his car with a look of disdain. Olivia had poor eyesight, but she was too scared to tell her mother so she often just made the best of it. Gripping the end of her seat, she scooches forward and squints her eyes.
"Steve Harrington," she says out loud, as if Jonathan couldn't possibly know who that is.
"Maybe I should've hit the gas," Jonathan snorts.
Olivia frowns at him. "Jon."
"There's no parking," Jonathan said, ignoring her growing reprimand. "Wait, wait, there's one there."
Once he edged his car into the seemingly only available space left, he and Olivia quickly grabbed their things and raced through the parking lot all the way to the school steps. Just as Jonathan reached for the metal door handle, the echoing blare of the tardy bell wipes the hope from their eyes. Jonathan groans, nearly slamming his head onto the chipped door out of frustration.
Olivia winces. "I'm sorry. Again."
"We need an excuse," Jonathan says instead of accepting her apology.
"The squirrel."
"No," Jonathan groans, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "We'll just say that my car broke down a few miles back."
"We used that excuse last week," Olivia says, pulling open the door and letting him go first. The halls were completely barren, a good indication a majority of the remaining student body completed the simple task in arriving to class on time. It spared them the minute embarrassment of dodging swinging back packs or cleverly placed feet, toeing the fine line of Principal Higgins' bullying policy by feigning innocence, as well as the abrasive looks they tended to receive from the likes of, yes, Steve Harrington. He was arguably Jonathan's mortal enemy, if he believed in that sort of thing. Olivia just enjoyed the dramatics of it.
Instead they didn't take long to find the front office to retrieve their tardy slips, still trying to conjure up a good enough excuse as to why they couldn't make it to their first period on time. Olivia was tempted to bring up the squirrel again, but she could tell Jonathan wasn't in the mood. Instead, she decided to try to think of the grossest things possible, anything nauseating enough to make her green in the face. They hadn't used the ill card yet, and maybe she could score an excuse to get out of classes completely.
The double doors were locked, a habit made now courtesy of Principal Higgins after the water balloon incident two years ago, meant as a harmless senior prank but it ended up with Holly Holloway, the dedicated office worker, breaking her collarbone after slipping and falling from the water. Since then, they would have to knock, if only to further humiliate them for being late.
Jonathan knocks and stands there, waiting. Olivia wants to apologize again, even if he wouldn't accept it not out of spite but because he was seemingly incapable of blaming her.
The door opened a moment later, Mrs. What's-Her-Name peeked out with her kooky green glasses and unruly red hair pinned down with butterfly clips and bobby pins. She doesn't seem that surprised to see the pair of them standing there.
"I have them written out already, I just need an excuse," she drawls, opening the door to let them in. Jonathan walks in first, habitually stuffing his hands into his pockets. Olivia scurried in after him. The door shut behind Mrs. and she returned to stand behind the long counter, rifling through the documents she had laid out before her. She procures two tardy slips, both Jonathan and Olivia's names scribbled at the top. Sure enough, the excuse portion was left blank.
"Look, my car broke down again," Jonathan goes on to excuse.
"Again?" she echoes.
"Yes, again," Jonathan shoots back, already drawing her in with some long winded story, with too many details and little room for argument. There was nothing there for her to pry open and inspect further because Jonathan's just gotten so good at lying. Olivia let him run. She knew she'd probably ruin it somehow.
She's distracted instead by a door in the far corner, propped open with a small empty flower vase. It was Principal Higgins' office. She remembered the senior prank last year had been changing his lock without him noticing and he didn't want to bother paying a locksmith to get it fixed, so this was the permanent solution. Olivia was beginning to notice senior pranks weren't all too innocent.
Anyway, from the small gap between the door and the frame, she could see the tail end of the blue armchair Higgins had set up, occupied now by a mop of black curls and a leather jacket. Whomever it was seemed to be practically vibrating in the chair, their voice agitated and getting louder, loud enough Jonathan had to talk over it go get Mrs. to understand the reason they weren't on time was completely out of their hands and she needed to understand that.
"I am warning you, Mr. Munson, one more slip up and I'll have you scraping gum off the bottom of the stadium seats!" Principal Higgins snaps, effectively cutting Jonathan off. The pair of them, as well as Mrs., all turned in time to see the door whip wide open and nearly slam closed, potentially breaking the vase had Higgins not caught it in time.
Olivia was able to see now up and close that it had been Eddie Munson in the armchair.
He didn't seem like his usual self, angrier somehow with a busted lip and a budding bruise on his eye. He barely spares them a glance as he opens the door and storms out into the hall. The door slams shut behind him.
"Delinquent," Higgins hisses from his office, shaking his head and disappearing from the gap.
It took a moment for them to get over what just happened.
"So...can we get those tardy slips please?" Jonathan asks awkwardly.
"Hm? Oh, yes! Right! Here!" Mrs. says, scribbling down Jonathan's lies into the excuse portion before handing them over. Jonathan grabbed both and nodded for Olivia to follow him out. She quietly obliges, not even stopping to thank Mrs. like she usually did.
"What was that all about?" Olivia asks once the door closed behind them.
"Eddie Munson being a little shit again. Here," Jonathan says, handing her her tardy slip.
"Did you see his mouth? And his eye?" Olivia goes on.
"He probably gave shit to the wrong person. Nothing new. Munson's always up to no good," Jonathan scoffs, redirecting her toward the stairs. Their first period was on the second floor. She had been too distracted to realize she was about to pass the staircase. "Surprised they haven't just expelled him yet. I mean, he failed last year and he's already stirring up shit this year. Just kick him out and be done with it, you know?"
"That's not fair," Olivia said, grabbing the railing as she went up. "We don't know why he failed. It could be attendance issues. He's not stupid. I know the history teacher really likes him."
"Probably because he's been supplying him with weed since his freshman year," Jonathan gossips.
Olivia swats at him. "Stop it, Jon. I'm serious."
"So am I. Why do you think Mr. Stevenson likes to throw in bits on his conspiracy theories? It's not to keep us from snoozing in his class," Jonathan said. "Don't worry about Munson. We need to worry about how Jenkins is gonna react to us being late again."
"Maybe he won't notice."
She'd been wrong. Jenkins liked to embarrass his students when they did anything wrong. For the first half of the period, he had Jonathan and Olivia stand up front while he reprimanded them. Some students laughed, others were using the opportunity to scribble in some half-attempt at the essay he'd assigned for homework the night prior. That reminded Olivia that she'd forgotten to do that, too.
Olivia and Jonathan sat down at last. The actual class began, following Jenkins walking around and picking up their essays. A forlorn look was given to Olivia when she showed him she was empty handed. Even Jonathan handed something in.
"As I was saying before," Jenkins drawled, erasing the chalkboard so he could start his lesson.
Olivia, out of habit, seems to drown out his voice with her own inner monologue. Eddie Munson still stuck out in her brain with his bloody lip and purple eye.
She didn't know him personally. He was two years before her last year, but now he was just a grade ahead after yes, failing his first senior year. What little Olivia knew about him stemmed from the rumors spread throughout the school and partially Hawkins. Eddie was no good, a troublemaker. He'd make scenes in the cafeteria during lunch, so that didn't help with what was said.
Olivia knew he had long black hair, big brown eyes, and he liked to wear dark clothes with ripped jeans and those old white Reeboks she saw on the magazine once. She knew he ran a club in this school, Hellfire, and they enjoyed playing that roleplaying game that her and Jonathan's brothers also enjoyed playing. She knew those kids had rumors spread about them, too, though none as severe as Eddie's.
Eddie got into fights. She'd seen one once last year. It had been in the school yard between him and this other senior who'd already graduated, Phillip Potowsky. She didn't get to see how it ended; Jonathan had pulled her away from the crowd. And the stories she'd heard of how it turned out were all different from each other so she didn't know how it really ended. But the next day Eddie was back at school making a ruckus at his table with a swollen cheek and bruised knuckles. Phillip didn't show up until the following Monday. She based her assumptions more on that.
Olivia didn't dislike Eddie. He intimidated her some, but she didn't hate him. He gave her no reason to. He was just...an odd person. But she was, too. There were plenty of rumors spread about Olivia Henderson. She just chose to ignore them for the most part.
"Miss Henderson!" Jenkins suddenly calls.
Olivia snaps out of it.
"Yes?" she squeaks.
"I asked you a question," Jenkins sneers. Some students snigger. He gestures to the board and holds up a piece of chalk. "Come write your response."
Olivia looks at Jonathan helplessly. He can only shrug at her apologetically.
She bites her lip and slowly gets to her feet, slipping between desks, avoiding stepping on people's shoes or back packs, grabbing the chalk from Jenkins' hand and walking toward the board. The white residue staining her fingertips distracted her from the question. The laughter from the kids behind her drowned out any sort of thinking that would enable her to give a well thought out answer.
Instead, she turns back to Jenkins, holding the chalk back out.
"I need to use the bathroom," she mumbles.
Now the kids were openly laughing at her. Jonathan runs a hand down his face while Jenkins tries to decide if she's kidding her not. With a shake of his head, he reaches behind his desk to grab the bathroom pass, shoving it into her hands and nodding towards the door.
"Get out," he grunts.
Olivia thanks him and runs out the door, her head ducked down between her shoulders while the students laughed cruelly after her.
Her cheeks burned and her ears felt hot. She'd decided she would go to the bathroom, if just to throw some cold water in her face. She didn't know what was wrong with her today.
The closest girls' bathroom was by the stairs.
She'd quickly pushed open the door and walked inside, disposing of the bathroom pass by one of the sinks, turning the silver knob so water began to pool from the tap. Before she could cup her hands underneath, she stops for a minute when she smells something off.
Well, in retrospect, it was the bathroom. There was always bound to be an odd smell. But this was different. It burned her nostrils. The smell was very unfamiliar to her.
She turned around, holding her nose with one hand. This bathroom had only three stalls. Two of them were vacant and one was occupied. When Olivia looked closer she could see smoke coming out from underneath the door. This alarmed her.
"Hello?" she calls, her voice a little nasally.
No answer. But she saw a shadow shift from one end to the next.
"Are you okay in there?" she asks, worried if this poor girl somehow lit something on fire, but the smell wasn't really...she'd smelled fire before and it didn't smell like that. "Should I call someone...or...?"
There was a deep sigh and the stall unlocked, opening. Olivia definitely did not expect to see Eddie Munson of all people on the other side, leaning casually against the stall with his free hand holding what looked to be a cigarette. That's what it looked like anyway.
She blushes in embarrassment, covering her eyes despite him not being remotely exposed.
"This is the girls' bathroom!" she squeaks.
"Yeah, I know," he said with a snort.
"This is the girls' bathroom a-and you can't smoke in here!"
"This place is usually empty at this time. Didn't think anyone would walk in," Eddie says with a shrug. He takes a long drag, looking her up and down. "I know you. I saw you...this morning. In the front office. You and the Byers kid."
"We were getting tardy slips," Olivia said, slowly moving her hand down from her eyes. "What...what were you doing?"
"You know, got all dressed up and pretty-fied for my date with Higgins. Kind of a weekly traditional thing." Eddie says. Olivia could see he'd tried to wash off the dried blood from his lip but she could still see where it was cut. He must've seen her looking, because he continued, "Got in a tiff with one of the basketball guys. Not a huge deal. He's worse off. Managed to sprain his ankle so he's out for Friday's game."
"Why wasn't he in the office, too?"
Eddie points his weird looking cigarette at her, winking. "I like how you pay attention, princess. Probably because if things took an even shittier turn, they'd rather him be in the clear than me. Not like I'm in the running to get Hawkins a win for anything, you know?"
"Well, if you both fought..."
"World isn't a perfect place, sweetheart, otherwise he and I would've both been limping out of that office." Eddie takes another drag. "So...you gonna tell everyone you found the school freak in the girls' bathroom?"
Olivia thinks about it. "No."
"Really? That'd be the next best thing. A freak and a pervert rolled into one."
"Well, you said you only came in here to smoke because you figured it'd be empty."
"And, what? You just...believed me?" Eddie laughs.
"But...but you said..."
"Think about it logically, princess, why the hell would I just come out and say I wait in the stalls on the off chance a girl, maybe a hot cheerleader or one of the volleyball chicks wanders in?" Eddie asks.
"Well, I...I..."
"Just sayin'...real naive of you to just...believe like that." Eddie grins. "Lucky for you, I'm a man of my word. This is just one of the nicer spots I like to cool off in. I was hurtin' real bad with my lip and my eye I just needed a little bit of a pick-me-up."
Olivia felt more embarrassed now than she had in the classroom. She should've just written the wrong answer down.
"Hey, hey I'm sorry," Eddie said, seeing her distress. "I was just kiddin' around. Didn't think you'd get...uh...I'm Eddie, Eddie Munson. But you know that already. This isn't my best first impression."
Olivia isn't sure she wants to give him her name at this point. He'd essentially called her gullible. Which...he wasn't exactly wrong about, but it still hurt her feelings. But if she told him that she'd just be gullible and overly sensitive.
But he seemed genuinely sorry.
"Olivia Henderson," she says. She thrusts a hand out.
Eddie studies it, holding a finger up as if to tell her to wait.
He walks up to one of the sinks, holding the cigarette between his lips as he washes his hands and dries them off with the thin paper towels before turning and finally shaking her hand.
"Gotta be respectable, you know?" he asks playfully. "Olivia Henderson...look, you gotta give me a break. Didn't have the best start to my day. If you caught me in a better mood I'd probably be able to dazzle you more with my people skills. Don't take what I say so personally either. I can be a little oblivious sometimes, don't realize what I'm saying."
"That's okay," Olivia said, mentally scolding herself for forgiving so easily. She fared better with other people when she had Jonathan around. He was like her buffer. "Why does that cigarette smell funny?"
Eddie looks confused. "Hm?"
"I just mean...wh-when my aunt comes to visit, she likes to smoke. But her cigarette doesn't smell anything like that."
Olivia was just being curious, but clearly this observation had taken Eddie by surprise. Maybe it wasn't an appropriate question.
"You mean you've never..." Eddie trails off, clearing his throat. "Homemade cigarette, princess. That's all."
"Oh, okay," Olivia said, instantly believing him. "I didn't know you could do that."
Eddie tilts his head, the corners of his mouth twitching upward like he wanted to laugh, but he quickly catches himself. "Uh...yeah...saves me the big bucks. Um...say, what...what grade are you in? You're not a freshman, right?"
"Junior."
"And...lack of punctuality's like the worst thing you've ever done?"
Olivia thinks about it for a minute. "Once I also blamed my brother for stepping on the cat's tail?"
"That's...adorable," Eddie says, coughing to mask a snicker. Olivia was used to that. "Um...look, princess, maybe it'd be best if you grabbed the bathroom pass and wandered off back to your class. Can't imagine your teacher would be too happy with you spending the entire period with me. Maybe I'll see you at lunch, eh?"
"Are you inviting me to sit with you?"
"Uh...no, that's just something people say. B-but I'm not one to deny access to wayward souls! I always have a seat open! Feel free!" Eddie said.
"Oh, okay! Thank you! Thanks," Olivia said, smiling at him. She grabs the bathroom pass and goes to leave. She turns back. "I won't tell anybody about this, by the way. I keep my word."
"Good to know, princess," Eddie said. He even waves goodbye. She happily waves back, leaving the bathroom and going back to Jenkins' class. She had a bit of a skip in her step. She'd for some reason enjoyed that awkward introduction to the school freak, despite him calling her naive.
"Miss Henderson!" Jenkins snaps as soon as she walks in. "So nice of you to join us!"
"Sorry, I got...caught up with something," Olivia excused, dropping the pass back on his desk and quickly returning to her seat. Jenkins rolls his eyes and continues on with the lesson.
Jonathan leans over to her. "Where the hell have you been?"
"Nowhere. The bathroom," Olivia assures quietly. He doesn't seem to believe her, but he doesn't press on. Olivia takes the opportunity to ask, "How would you feel if we sat somewhere new today at lunch?"