A summer rain tapped against the roof of Steve Harrington's cream white Silverado. It was the next morning, and Steve found himself, once again, tracking down Dustin Henderson to take him to school. After yesterday's stunt, Steve got a much earlier start, knowing that he would likely have to drive around town to find the boy again. He tried the arcade first and was surprised to find that Dustin and the gang were not there. Getting back into his truck, he bit down on his lower lip, thinking of where else he could be.
"Benny's," he said, slapping the leather steering wheel as the thought struck him.
Benny's Diner was just on the outskirts of the shopping district, right on the curve of a hillside. As the hazy lights of the diner came into view, Steve saw five bikes parked in its rack outside. Grimacing as the fresh, cold rain pelted his face, he hurried into the diner, where he quickly found the teens crammed into two booths.
"Really, Henderson?" Steve asked, interrupting their lively discussion. "When we arranged for me to pick you up for school every day, I assumed that meant it would be from your house."
"You assumed that," Dustin shot back, "I never said it."
Steve was about to return with his own quip when suddenly his hazel eyes grew wide at the sight of the spread (or the remnants of it) in front of him. Thin, wispy pancakes smothered in softened butter and hot syrup, eggs over-easy speckled with pepper and edges browned to perfection, crispy bacon, plump sausage links, a bowl of fresh fruit, and many glasses of cold, tangy orange juice. Most of it had been devoured by the ravenous youths, but the scraps looked delicious, nonetheless. It made his neglect to eat breakfast that morning all the more apparent.
"Where did you get the money to pay for this?" he asked, mouth agape.
"You should have been there!" Mike said excitedly.
"We entered a tournament at the arcade last night," Will added.
"Max won second place and got twenty dollars!" Lucas beamed.
"Of course she did," Steve replied plainly, still focused on the food. "What the heck was the prize for first place?"
"An Atari!" they all said in one voice.
"Damn. I'd like to have that."
"We keep telling you to come to the arcade with us," Dustin said in a sing-song tone.
"Here," Max said suddenly from her corner of the booth. "We saved some for you."
She slid a small plate over to Steve, on which was an egg, a strip of bacon, and a sausage link. His first instinct was to gripe about how small his portion was, yet he resisted and instead pulled a chair up to the head of the table. The rain had turned into a downpour, which made everyone, even Steve, much less hurried to get to school. There was still some time to spare, anyway. A young waitress, who Steve recognized vaguely from his recently graduated class, approached with her tray, a lone, dark bottle sitting atop it.
"Is this the understanding and forgiving young gentleman you all said would be joining you?" she asked, her thin lips smiling widely.
"The one and only," Dustin replied.
"Wait, did they really say those things about me?"
"They sure did," she answered with a small wink, pushing back a lock of her dark mahogany brown hair. "And they asked me to give this to you."
She set the dark bottle of root beer down in front of him.
"Which one ordered this, exactly?" Steve inquired, twisting off the cap with a satisfying sizzle.
"That sweet young man right there," she replied, pointing to Lucas, who waved in kind before the waitress wandered off.
"Alright then, Sinclair," Steve said with a scoff, "you've paid your debt. The rest of you still owe me one."
They immediately protested.
"It was Lucas' idea," Max said, clearly displeased, "but it was my money."
"It's the thought that counts," Steve chuckled, taking a swig of the strong, icy beverage.
"Did you not hear the understanding and forgiving part?" Dustin asked.
"I heard it. You're not gonna butter me up that easily, twerp. I'm all for speaking things into existence or whatever, but that's taking it a bit too far."
"Do you think this rain's gonna stop today?" Will asked, staring out the window and fidgeting with the sleeve of his olive green jacket.
"I hope so," Mike replied.
"This does not pair as well as I thought it would," Steve uttered mindlessly after chasing a yolky bite of egg with the root beer.
For ten minutes or so, the group sat and chatted. Steve sat idly while the younger ones started mapping out their weekend plans, which apparently included a trip to the movie theater and, of course, D&D. The rain lightened ever so slightly, enough to put school back on everyone's minds.
"I can't fit all of you and your bikes in the bed," Steve said.
The waitress was approaching to take away some plates and overheard this dilemma.
"You can leave them here for the time being," she said, much to everyone's surprise. "I'll keep an eye on them. I'm sure Big Benny won't mind. No one really uses the bike rack, anyway. Just come back and get them before we close."
Steve draped a tarp over Max, Lucas, and Mike, who again opted to ride in the bed of the truck. They sat on their backpacks to keep their rears dry.
Will's leg had been nervously bouncing for the entire class period, his dirty shoes that were a size too small, tapping audibly on the floor off-white. His wide, hazel eyes stared out the window at the unforgiving rain. Sitting next to him, Mike took notice. His brow curved curiously.
"The rain's not going to hurt the D&D lair," he whispered, trying to be reassuring. "It's mostly made of trees, which get rained on all the time."
"I know," Will replied, a bit shakily. "I just want to make sure the chairs are covered and the cooler's shut all the way. Then I'll feel better."
"Well, why don't we go check on it at lunch? Then we'll make it back here before anyone knows we're gone."
"Deal."
They did just that. The dense trees protected them from the cold rain rather decently. Will forgot his jacket at the school, so Mike let him borrow his, though it was a tad big for the boy. They munched on over-ripened bananas and plain ham and cheese sandwiches as they made their way through the woods, a bit more easily this time since Mike was now familiar with the route. Upon arriving, they checked the chairs first, which were perfectly dried under their tarps. They still opted to weigh them down with a few more rocks in case the wind picked up. Will's anxiety was settling, that was, until they investigated the cooler. It had been hidden underneath a bundle of vines, but when Will pulled them up, it was gone. Only the impression of it was left in the dirt.
"You sure this is the right spot?" Mike asked.
Will shot him a displeased glance, saying nothing.
"Of course you are. Sorry."
They ventured a couple of yards out of the clearing in search of the cooler.
"Maybe someone else knows about this spot and made off with it," Mike suggested.
"Wait," Will said.
He pointed off in the distance, and there they saw the cooler. Its top was open and mangled, and the bear-proof locks had been ripped apart. Surrounding it were the empty packages of what had been left over from the previous day. One box of candy cigarettes, two Hi-C Coolers, and two pudding pies.
"Bear-proof my ass," Mike uttered, picking up and pocketing the wet trash.
Suddenly, they heard twigs snapping around them, but from what direction they could not tell. Will gasped and instinctively moved a bit closer to Mike. The muscles in his throat could be seen tensing as he held back a shriek of fear. Mike stayed steady, looking this way and that for the source.
"Probably just a deer," he said with a shrug.
"Or the bear that pried this open," Will countered.
They heard the sound again, this time it was closer and to their left. They both stifled a gasp and, turning in its direction, were met with neither a bear nor a deer, but rather, a child who looked to be around their age, if not a year younger. Both of their mouths fell agape as they wrestled with whether or not to believe what they were seeing. The kid's short, freshly cut hair made it difficult to know whether they were a boy or a girl at first, though the defined features on their face appeared more feminine. She was soaked from head to toe and shivering terribly, with only a saturated hospital gown covering her. Her wide eyes showed that she was just as startled by them as they were by her.
"Who are you?" Mike asked.
There was no response. She just continued to stare.
"What are you doing out here?" Will inquired.
Again, she said nothing.
Mike took a step forward, and the girl recoiled with a sharp gasp, prompting Mike to halt, his breath catching in his throat.
"Sorry, sorry," he said, as calmly as he could, "we don't mean to scare you."
"Are you okay?" Will asked. "Do you need help?"
Her breath slowed, yet she remained silent. Mike and Will exchanged glances.
"What do we do?" Will asked.
"Tell an adult, obviously," Mike replied.
"But who?" Will continued. "If we tell the teachers, they won't believe us, and we'll get majorly busted for sneaking out again."
Mike's brow furrowed. Will was right on both points, and he didn't want to endure being grounded. He ran a hand through his damp, dark hair as he thought of what to do.
"See if you can get the others to come back here before lunch period is over," he said assertively. "We need to brainstorm as a group. I'll stay here with her."
Steve was surprisingly tired after spending the late morning and early afternoon washing musty, sweaty towels at the sports club. He leaned back in his truck seat, dozing off as he waited outside the school for dismissal, lulled by the weather and Cyndi Lauper's "True Colors" playing softly on his radio. An occasional loud drop of rain stirred him, but then a jarring pound on his window jolted him fully awake. Dustin stood on the other side of the glass, looking a bit more serious than he normally did. Steve cranked the window down, his bushy brow curved upward.
"What is it? Something wrong?"
"Just come with me," Dustin said breathlessly. "We need you."
Steve's stomach fluttered as he quickly exited his truck and chased after Dustin, who began sprinting towards the nearby woods. Steve tried to keep up and found himself slipping on the wet, muddy grass.
"Hey, is this an emergency?" Steve called out with no response. "You're scaring me, dude. Can you at least tell me what's going on?"
"You just gotta see it for yourself," Dustin replied, dashing through the trees.
"You better not be taking me to poke a dead guy with a stick."
"Just come on, Harrington!"
Despite multiple pleas, Dustin refused to slow down, leaving Steve to be flicked by low-hanging branches, tripped up by roots, and occasionally having to pause and deduce what direction Dustin ran off in. Coming to the top of an incline, he paused, putting his hands on his hips and wondering if he had gotten himself truly lost. Dustin had escaped out of eyeshot. Through the rain, however, he heard the familiar voices of the other kids and started off in their direction. At last he found them, talking over each other as usual, though a bit more quietly than normal.
"What's going on?" Steve asked breathlessly. "You guys okay?"
They turned and met his gaze, each dawning a solemn and confused expression. He glanced at each one, determining that no one appeared sick or injured. Only after his second look-over did he notice the other girl in their midst. He drew back some at the shock of seeing her.
"Who is this?" he asked.
Everyone offered their own shrug.
"Okay," Steve drawled. "Rewind. What exactly is going on here?"
"Will and I came out here at lunch to check on our D&D space," Mike confessed. "We just found her out here."
"Alone?" Steve asked, high-browed, with concern rising in his tone.
Mike and Will nodded.
"She won't say anything," Will added. "We think she's frightened."
"And hungry, if she's the one who ransacked the cooler," Mike said.
"Why's she in a hospital gown?" Steve inquired.
"Earth to dingus," Max chided, "we can't figure out that if she won't talk to us."
Steve was wearing a gray jacket, arguably a bit too heavy for summer, even on a rainy day. He slowly took it off and opened it in the girl's direction, meeting and holding her leery gaze. Everyone waited in quiet anticipation to see what she would do. Some even held their breath without realizing it. She inched forward. Because everyone was observing her so intently, her tiny movement prompted a wave of flinches from the group, which in turn startled her.
"Guys, all of you need to relax," Steve said calmly. "Act normal. Talk amongst yourselves or something."
They listened to his instruction, pretending to whisper to each other, though they secretly continued to peer at the girl, who had begun approaching Steve once more.
"I'm not gonna hurt you," he said quietly, trying to give a reassuring smile and bobbing the jacket up and down a bit.
She hesitantly reached out. Her delicate fingertips graced the fabric of the jacket for a few moments before she finally gripped and pulled it from Steve's hands. She put it on rather quickly, then noticed that everyone was staring at her yet again. She froze, which reminded everyone else to act more naturally.
"What should we do, Steve?" Dustin asked.
"Take her to the police station, I guess," he replied with a shrug.
"Why don't we get her something to eat first?" Max suggested.
"Benny's!" exclaimed Lucas, Mike, and Dustin all at once.
"Again?" Steve questioned.
"We can get her some food, get our bikes, then take her to the police station," answered Max.
"I should've bought a damn minivan," Steve sighed.
The preteens started off first, leading the way at a distance, with Steve and Mike walking close to the nameless, speechless girl. She did not seem to appreciate verbal commands or cues. Rather, if Steve or Mike made a gesture with their hand, she typically understood and followed. The promise of food also enticed her. They managed to lead her to Steve's truck before the chaos of dismissal started. Will and Dustin agreed to sit in the bed of the truck, as Steve and Mike seemed to be earning the girl's trust. However, when the truck started, it made a loud clang that startled her, prompting a bit of a shriek.
"It's okay," Steve reassured her as calmly as he could. "Barb is loud, but she's not mean."
Mike shot a confused glance in Steve's direction.
"You named your truck Barb?" he asked. "You really need a girlfriend, dude."
"You wanna walk to Benny's, Wheeler?" Steve retorted. "Because that kind of judgmental attitude will get you exactly that."