Chapter Three

Last Summer

Jim was waiting for his eldest daughter in the front doorway as she got out of a Camaro. He saw the look on her face when she noticed she had been caught; a mixture of anxiousness and attitude.

'Good,' he thought. She knew she was in trouble.

"Have fun?" He raised his eyebrows and smiled with thick sarcasm. Jim's arms were crossed tightly across his broad chest.

She gave a wave to the driver and rolled her eyes as she pushed past the bulking figure of her father, without answering.

He grimaced at the young man as he drove away; far too quickly for his liking, he might add, kicking up clouds of dust. Hopper hollered a 'slow down!' before closing the door and turning around. He attempted to control his temper when he saw she'd already gone to her room.

"Josie!"

"You don't have to yell, I'm right here." There was the figure of his seventeen-year-old daughter in her bedroom doorway, arms folded in teenage defiance.

Rubbing his lips together, trying his best to remain cool, calm, and collected, her father pointed towards the couch.

"Sit."

Sighing with reluctance, Josie does as she's asked—waiting for the reprimand.

Her father paces the space between the kitchen and the sofa, running his fingers through his hair, trying to find the right words without completely blowing his top. Finally, he takes a deep breath and with one hand on his hip and the other outstretched towards her, he speaks.

"You know how dangerous it is for anyone to know where we are—"

"It's only Billy," Josie tried defending her actions, "and he doesn't care about-"

Jim threw his hands in the air with mock relief. "Oh, it was only Billy! Thank Christ for that—God damn it, Josie, I don't care if was Billy, Stan, or the fucking president! If they aren't in our circle, they aren't safe."

His daughter huffed. "It isn't fair, you know, wanting me to live the life of a hermit. Just because of her..." She peered over at Jane's room.

"Wooooah, you wait just a minute there. Don't you bring her into this—this is about your actions, not hers. Besides, I've told you once already, that kid is trouble."

Josie placed her head in her hands, groaning in contempt. "You don't even know him, dad."

Her father took a few steps over to the fridge and pulled out a cold beer. This child was going to be the death of him. "I don't need to 'know' him, Josie. I was that kid. There is only one thing he's after, and once he's got it—he'll be gone."

She stood up then, fuming just as much as he was. Their tempers matched. "Well, you're wrong. You know how I know?"

"Josie, stop." He cracked open the can and took a long swig.

A scoff escaped her lips. "I know, Dad because he's already gotten it, and guess what? He's still around."

Jim choked on his drink. His face turned red; eyes like daggers pointed in her direction. If he'd been a Saturday morning cartoon, steam would be shooting from his ears.

"You know what? You're grounded."

"Dad!"

"Nope—NOPE! No television, no phone, no going to the mall with your friends. Now go to your room!" He shouted, watching Josie storm off in a rage. "And don't you slam that door or I'll take that away too!"

She slammed the door.

Jim Hopper slumped into his armchair, glancing over at his adopted daughter's room. Her door was closed. Squeezing the bridge of his nose between his fingers and sighing heavily, he turned on the TV. About ten minutes into his show, he heard the sound of a Camaro revving and peeling out from the back of the cabin.

Jim shot up from his recliner, in disbelief. She'd jumped out her goddamn window. That little bastard had been waiting for her this whole time.

"Son of a bitch." He fumed, grabbing his car keys and racing towards the door. "El, you stay in the house!"

Forty-five minutes of driving before he found them, parked out past the old Johnston fence near McCarthy's farm. He had an inkling that's where he might take her—call it more than a hunch. Jim turned his headlights off and sat there for a bit, debating on what action to take.

He could see them in the light of the moon, both on the hood of the car. For a second, Jim tossed around the idea of leaving them be. After all, you're only young once and he wouldn't always be there to put an end to it. That was made clear during their previous argument. However, the moment he saw that little sleaze ball slide his hand up Josie's shirt, leniency was thrown out the window.

Throwing on his headlights, police lights, and siren, he sped down the way and right up behind the Camaro. Jim reached over and grabbed the mic, switching the siren off and the speakers attached to the Blazer on. He took a deep breath. "Miss Josie Hopper, get your ass off the car... Now ."

Josie shielded her eyes from the high beams of the Blazer. She was trying to adjust her shirt.

Her father waited, staring at her intensely until she was inside the vehicle. The last straw was when she huffed, crossed her arms, and nonchalantly stared out the open window.

Hopper put the mic down and stepped out of the Blazer, storming over towards Billy.

"Hey, hey, dad! Stop! What the hell are you doing?" Josie's shouts were ignored.

Embarrassment and humiliation filled her being when she saw her father grab Billy by the collar of his shirt. She couldn't make out what was being said but she knew her dad well enough—this was going to be the last time she ever saw Billy.

When the conversation between the two of them had ended and her dad was marching back towards the Blazer, Josie threw her arms in the air.

"What the hell was that? What did you say to him?"

Jim glared sideways at her and waited for Billy to drive off before pulling away himself. He didn't answer his daughter.

The first twenty minutes of their drive back to the cabin remained silent. Josie's mind was consumed with thoughts of losing Billy, which made her sick to her stomach. Her father felt sick too, for other reasons. Eventually, when the initial shock and tension died down, it was Jim who was the first to speak.

"I don't want to see you get hurt," He began. "You're a smart, beautiful, young woman and you're worth so much more—"

Josie kicked the dashboard. "What the actual fuck, dad?"

"Language!"

"Fuck you."

He stopped the vehicle. "Watch your tone with me."

She tilted her head, giving him his sarcastic smile. "Or what, you'll ground me?"

Hopper sighed, beginning to drive again. He'd admit, he probably went too far and ended her relationship. Didn't feel sorry for it—the kid was a punk...but it could have been handled better.

"Josie, I just want the best for you."

"That's rich, coming from you. You didn't give a flying fuck about me until Jane showed up. Hell, you didn't give a shit about me after Sara died."

"Jos,"

Josie screamed, "No, you listen. For once. Listen to me. You didn't care about me for all those years. You drank, smoked, fucked, and ignored me. I didn't mean shit to you—forgive me. I feel like after you were saved by Jane and had your life-changing catharsis, you finally wanted to be a father. I don't want you to. I don't need you to. I don't need you."

Jim swallowed hard. He hadn't been a great parent to Josie; he knew that. If he could have changed the past and been better for her, he would have. But there was no changing the past, and he couldn't make up for the lost time.

"I'll wear that."

"Noble of you." She seethed.

"But," He needed her to know he loved her, just as much, if not more than El. She was his first baby. His first little girl. "I do care about you. I love you, kid. I'd die if anything ever happened to you."

They pulled up to the cabin. Jim parked the Blazer.

Josie was crying now. Her dad tried to lean in to give her one of their special bear hugs. She pushed him away.

"Don't fucking wait for something to happen to me. You can go ahead and die any time." Jumping out of the vehicle, she slammed the door.

Jim sat in silence. That would be the last true conversation they ever shared.

July 4th 1985

Starcourt Mall

It felt like the weight of the world on her shoulders. This was all her fault. All of it. No one was going to convince her otherwise.

If she hadn't taken Billy to the cabin, the Mind Flayer wouldn't have been able to find it, probing his mind. If she had looked after Jane the way her dad wanted her to, Jane wouldn't have been hurt the way she was. If she had just patched things up with Billy, maybe he'd still be his person and not some puppet on the Mind Flayer's strings.

"Josie." Murray tapped her on the shoulder, bringing her back to the then-present.

"Huh?"

He pointed over at her father who was staring at her, holding Jane in his arms. Murray didn't have to say anything, Josie understood. She limped over towards her family, her bosom drowning with remorse.

When she was in front of her dad, they stared at each other for a long while. Josie spoke first this time. "I'm sorry about the cabin... I heard Lucas tell you what happened."

Hopper sighed.

Lifting the younger girl in his arms, Jane was gingerly taken away by Mike and Max. This left Josie and her father alone.

"I want you to be careful," He stated.

"I will."

"You look after her. You promise me, no matter what happens—you will always look after her."

Josie scoffed sarcastically, pointing in the direction of the younger kids. "Yeah, no worries old man. I'll make sure she stays safe... don't worry about me."

"Josie, you know I love you."

The teen rolled her eyes, walking away from him. "Yeah, whatever."

"Josie..."

She didn't turn around.

Present Time

Josie paused once she was dressed, trying to collect her thoughts on what just happened. Was she just seeing things, or was she seeing things ? Billy had said 'he' was coming for all of them. Who was this he? The Mind Flayer? It wasn't possible, was it? She pressed her fingers on one of the bruises that kissed her shoulder. She wasn't just imagining—all of it was real. All of it had happened. Billy told her to run. Run from what?

Coming for all of them… Something clicked in her brain and the last promise she made was at the forefront. If there truly was danger, she had to be sure Jane was safe.

She picked up her wristwatch from the edge of the sink and checked the time. 11:30 PM. That meant it was only 8:30 PM in California. There was just enough time to make a phone call before it became too late. If what Josie suspected came to fruition, she had to be sure Mike and Jane were safe. Scooping up her wet clothes in her arms, she swung the bathroom door open, bolting for the living room. Eddie was sitting at the kitchen table, scoffing down his bologna and cheese sandwich, his D&D handbook, paper and pencil in hand.

"Feel better Jos—" He choked when he saw her. For a moment, Eddie forgot he gave her clothes to change into. His clothes.

She took no notice, instead scanning her surroundings on a mission for a telephone. "I need to make a call, is that alright? Where's your phone?"

Munson cleared his throat, pointing over to the end table by the lamp. He stared in shock and awe as she darted for it, tossing her wet clothes onto a chair. Trying to pull his eyes and thoughts away from the way her hips hugged those grey sweats; his Motorhead shirt stopping at her lower midriff, while her free breasts hugged the fabric tightly. Shaking his head, he stood up and walked over towards her.

"Who are you calling? It's nearly midnight."

She glanced at him, dialling the number she memorized by heart but had yet to call. Josie didn't answer him as the line began to ring.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up!" She hissed.

Three, four, five, rings. Finally, on the seventh, someone answered.

An unknown voice was on the other line. "Uh...Byers' residence."

Josie pulled her ear away from the phone, scrunching her nose. "Who the hell is this?"

"This is Argyle, who is this?"

Eddie tapped Josie on the shoulder, waiting for an answer to his question. She shrugged him off.

"That doesn't matter! Is Joyce there? Johnathon?"

A quick pause. "Nah man, they aren't here, can I leave a message." A giggle. "I mean, can I take a message?"

Josie sighed in aggravation. "Is Will—is Jane there?"

Eddie poked her shoulder. "Hopper, what the hell—"

She shoved her hand in his face.

Well, that was more like the Josie he knew.

"Oh yeah, the little dude and dudette are here...wait...which one did you wanna talk to?"

"Put Jane on the phone, please." Josie bit her thumbnail in anticipation, mouthing a sorry to Eddie.

Hearing that silence on the other end of the line felt dreadful. Every second that ticked by was an eternity. Josie wasn't ready for this, but she had to know.

"...Hello?"

Her heart stopped. Tears welled in her eyes as she cupped the receiver like a precious object.

"Jane... It's me, Josie."

There was a long pause.

"Josie? I wrote to you. So many letters. You didn't answer."

"I know babe, I know. I'm so sorry I haven't been...I haven't been myself lately. Look, I don't have a lot of time. I just needed to make sure you're okay. You're okay, yeah?" Josie blinked over at Eddie; aware she couldn't say too much. "You're still... sick? Or have you gotten better?"

"I am still sick." There was sadness in Jane's soft voice.

Josie closed her eyes, a single tear falling down her cheek.

"You're safe though, right?"

Another pause, followed by, "Yes. Why is there trouble?"

Keeping track of the time she spent on an open line, Josie cursed herself. After hearing her sister's voice, the last thing she wanted to do was be brief. She couldn't take the chance though, not if something was going wrong.

"No, there is no trouble. I was just worried about you. Look, I have to go now but I'll send some letters and pictures to Mike, okay? I love you."

"Josie, I—"

Josie hung the phone up, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. Her head was faced down. She raised her eyes towards Eddie, knowing she owed him some sort of explanation...

"My little sister." She whispered. "She lives out of state, with the Byers. They adopted her when our dad died."

Munson stared back at her, incredulously. "You're a terrible liar, Hopper."

Josie shook her head, sighing. "It's not a lie."

It just wasn't the whole truth.

"Alright...well...everything okay?" He finally kicked his shoes off, sending them flying towards the front door. "Seemed...tense."

The young woman nodded, fighting off another round of tears. It was so good to hear Eleven's voice. She never thought it would sound so wonderful. For the first time that day, she wasn't worried, not after hearing Jane was safe. Josie was so happy. Concern for herself cast aside. However, in the recesses of her mind, there was this nagging voice that said something had wanted her to reach out to Jane. Something wanted Josie to rekindle their relationship. She couldn't shake it.

"You gotta stop doing that," Eddie huffed, giving her a pained smile. "I'm a good guy and all and a lot of crap doesn't bother me, but the crying Josie..."

She giggled then, hearing the sarcasm in his voice. "I know, I've been a fucking mess all day...you probably think I'm a psycho or something."

Eddie sauntered back towards the kitchen table, picked up what was left of his sandwich, and took a huge bite.

"Meh, it's the crying," he said with the last mouthful. Chewing loudly, he began laughing.

"What?" Josie furrowed her brows and wiped her tears away.

"I was just going to make a terrible, and I mean awful joke."

Now her interest was piqued. "What? What were you going to say?"

"Nup. Can't, there's a lady present." Eddie's heart stopped when he saw the way she was smiling at him. He couldn't fucking believe she was there...it was just too unreal.

"Tell me, Munson." She threatened in jest.

He raised an eyebrow in her direction, brushing the crumbs off of his shirt. Eddie was leaning against the top of the table, legs crossed, hands clasped together resting in his lap.

"Or what, Hopper?"

She bit her pursed lip. Were they flirting? It felt like flirting. Her face burned pink.

Josie felt a pang in her chest. She shouldn't be flirting. No. She wouldn't. Instead, she'd change the subject.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Eddie nodded, tilting his head—still admiring her for all it was worth.

"I've already asked so much of you—so if you want to say no, you're not going to hurt my feelings or anything. I know how fed up with my bullshit you must be."

Clearing his throat and standing up, Eddie walked over to Josie and put his arms on her shoulders, leaning down to her height. His forehead was nearly touching hers when he spoke softly, genuinely, and caringly.

"If I was fed up with your bullshit, Hopper—I would have thrown you out the second you shoved your hand in my face." He waited until those blue eyes of hers were gazing up at him before he continued, in a whisper. "Now what is the Lady's question?"

Heart beating a thousand miles a minute, Josie felt her skin tingle. Was it because of Eddie? That would be absurd...wouldn't it?

"I was just wondering...because it's been such a hard night with everything and I don't want to wake up Susan and Max—if I could, crash here?"

If you asked him how he kept so stoic, Eddie would tell you he didn't know. His insides turned into outsides at her query. He felt like he was going to puke and fly at the same time. Like being on a rollercoaster when you hit that first drop. He felt the corners of his mouth pull into a smirk, unable to take his eyes away from hers. What was he supposed to say? How do words work again? How do, do what? Does the pretty girl say, pretty girl, say, stay with him?

He somehow managed to keep his voice soft and steady. "Yeah, you can stay." He pulled away slightly, raising his index finger in front of her face. "On one condition."

"What?" Josie's voice squeaked. She didn't know what was going on anymore. Her brain and emotions were fried.

"No more crying," his fingers mimicked tears running down his face, before tilting his head and pouting. "It makes me horny."

Josie's eyes opened wide and her mouth fell to the floor. She let out a contagious laugh, playfully smacking Eddie's shoulder.

"You're right! That's a terrible joke—fucking awful! You're going to hell, Munson."

Eddie shielded himself from her blows, giggling uncontrollably.

He panicked slightly, trying to tidy his bedroom before she saw it in its current state.

"Shit."

Eddie hurriedly tossed the lotion bottle and tissues into his closet; laying a throw blanket over his stained mattress. The rest was just clutter mostly. He spotted a dirty magazine under his pillow—got to get rid of that—under the bed it went.

Josie timidly stepped into his room.

Metal posters, shelves with vinyl, cassettes, and fantasy figurines littered the space. Clothes, paper, and rubbish were piled on top of what she assumed was a desk. His guitar was displayed proudly on the mirror of his wardrobe. Oddly enough, the smell of weed was overpowered by the scents of clove cigarettes and nag champa incense. What was that feeling she was having? Did she feel... safe?

"So, this is the dungeon master's keep, eh?" She teased butterflies in her chest.

Josie had known Eddie for years but never imagined being in his bedroom. It was awkward? No... not awkward. Exhilarating maybe? Whatever the sensation was, it sent a warmth throughout her body she didn't quite understand.

Scratching the back of his head, Munson shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so..."

Was now the time to tell her? It had been such an inopportune night. He'd wait.

"So, yeah...um, bed. It's all yours." He gestured.

Josie shook her head in protest. "What about you?"

"Me? Meh, I'll crash on the couch, no biggie." He shrugged his shoulders with his hands in his pockets.

Sucking in a deep breath he then exhaled, "Well... we should probably get some sleep. You know—be the responsible young adults we are, what with school tomorrow and shit."

Climbing up onto the bed, she argued with herself in her head. She didn't want to be alone, terrified she might start seeing things again. Against her better judgment, she called out for Eddie to wait—just before he killed the light.

"If I told you what I'm going through, you'd think I'm crazy... but... I'd feel safer if you didn't leave. Could you stay?"

"Are you serious?" There was no saving himself this time. Eddie felt his face burning. "I mean—you want me to stay. Here with you? In the bed?"

She rolled her eyes. "Just lay next to me? I could use the comfort. You have no idea how frazzled I am. You'd never believe me, even if I told you."

Without a second thought, Eddie killed the main light. He started to shut his bedroom door the way he always had but stopped himself. Would closing it make things awkward? Probably. The door stays ajar.

Crawling up onto the mattress, he propped his head up on his hand—facing her, his back towards the doorway.

"I'm sorry for what happened to Hargrove and your dad. You're a tough bitch though. You've made it through. Know how I know?"

Josie's face took on a display of puzzlement.

"How?" She whispered. Her cat-like eyes searched for him in the dimly lit room.

"Because," Eddie pulled the comforter over her shoulders and around his waist. "Anyone who can go through that much shit and still smile is a badass."

He reached over, turning off the small lamp on his bedside table. Laying on his back in the darkness and listening to Josie breathe softly caused his heart to ache. She was so fucking close... so goddamn far away.

"Thanks, Eddie." Josie reached out and took his hand in hers.

There weren't any more words she could think of speaking. Attempting to smile, exhaustion overtook her. She closed her eyes and fell asleep.

Eddie on the other hand, lay wide awake—he couldn't fathom this was his current reality.

"He was so goddamn lucky to have you." He whispered as she softly snored.

She smelt of Jasmine and Honeysuckle. He liked that.