Dove's bedroom was a reflection of her summer—a half-lived, half-forgotten space, scattered with pieces of abandoned dreams. A guitar she hadn't touched in weeks leaned against the wall, collecting dust. Sketchbooks lay untouched on her desk, and a pile of books she had meant to read sat on her nightstand, their spines still unbroken. At the start of summer, she'd had plans—grand ones. Learn guitar, finish her art portfolio, maybe even take up photography. None of that had happened.

Above her bed, a corkboard was pinned with photos and notes, reminders of the person she was supposed to become. A list of summer goals, written in bold black ink, stared back at her.

Learn guitar
Go camping
Read ten books

She laughed bitterly at the sight of it now, knowing she hadn't crossed off a single thing.

Her mom's voice floated up from downstairs, breaking the quiet. "Dove, honey, don't forget we need some groceries!"

Of course. Groceries. The same errand she'd been running every week for the past three months, like clockwork. Dove glanced at the grocery list already waiting for her on the counter. It was the same as last week. And the week before that. Her mom wasn't one for changing things up. Dove grabbed the list, shoving it into her pocket, and headed out the door. The air outside was thick with the late summer heat, and the thought of walking to the store for the hundredth time filled her with an overwhelming sense of fatigue.

As she walked, she watched the world around her. The same houses, the same neighbors trimming their lawns, the same kids riding their bikes past her like they did every day. Nothing ever changed here. Nothing exciting ever happened. She sighed, dragging her feet as she moved down the street. Her mind wandered again, this time to places far away—cities she'd never been to, people she'd never met. Anywhere but Hawkins.

By the time she reached the grocery store, her thoughts had drifted to that nagging feeling she couldn't shake, the one that whispered to her at night when she was lying in bed staring at the ceiling. It told her there had to be more than this. More than running errands, more than school, more than being the girl everyone expected her to be. She wanted more. She needed more.

She filled the cart with the usual—bread, milk, eggs—barely paying attention as she moved through the aisles. She tossed in a few extras, hoping her mom wouldn't notice. Maybe if she threw in something different, the routine would feel a little less suffocating.

Back home, Dustin was sitting at the kitchen table, talking a mile a minute about some new project he and his friends were working on. Something about radios or walkie-talkies—Dove wasn't paying attention. She envied him in that moment. Her little brother, always off with his friends, always busy, always excited about something. She wished she had that same fire, that same sense of belonging. Lately, she felt like she was floating through life while everyone else seemed to know exactly where they were headed.

"Dustin, help your sister with the groceries," their mom called from the living room, not looking up from the TV.

"Sure thing!" Dustin shot up from his chair and bounded over, grabbing bags from the counter. He gave Dove a grin as he passed her. "What's with the face, Dove? You look like you've just seen a ghost."

"Nothing," she muttered, pulling the list from her pocket and tossing it onto the counter. "It's just... Nothing."

But it wasn't nothing. She felt like she was being left behind, like she was watching the world spin around her, and she was stuck, rooted in place.

"Come on, you should hang out with us sometime," Dustin said, nudging her with his elbow. "We're working on something really cool, I promise. Way more exciting than groceries."

Dove smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Yeah, maybe."

Maybe. That word hung between them, but she knew it wouldn't happen. She wasn't part of their world. She wasn't part of anything anymore.

Later that night, Dove lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, the fan spinning lazily above her. The sounds of the house were familiar, comforting in a way, but they didn't fill the emptiness she felt inside. The list on her corkboard seemed to mock her from across the room.

She had been waiting all summer for something to happen, for something to break the monotony, but nothing had come. She was tired of waiting. Tired of feeling like a background character in her own life.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across her room, Dove made a quiet promise to herself. She didn't know what it would be, but something was going to change. Something had to.

Tomorrow, she decided, she would try to do something different. Something exciting. Maybe she'd go somewhere new, try something she hadn't before. She couldn't keep living this way, waiting for life to happen to her.

Her chance came sooner than she expected.

The walk home from the grocery store was as uneventful as ever. The same cracked sidewalks, the same quiet houses. Dove knew the rhythm of it by heart—the sun beating down on her back, the cicadas droning in the thick summer air, and the familiar ache in her fingers as the grocery bags cut into her skin.

She shifted the bags, trying to ignore the growing discomfort in her arms. The route home was so familiar she could walk it with her eyes closed. And even if she did, nothing would change. Hawkins had a way of making everything feel stagnant, like time moved slower here.

As she turned the corner onto her street, the rumble of a car engine pulled her from her thoughts. It wasn't the kind of sound you usually heard in this part of town—too loud, too confident. Dove glanced over her shoulder, curious, and her breath caught when she saw the car slowing down beside her.

It was a black Camaro, its glossy paint catching the sun. The kind of car that didn't belong in a small town like Hawkins. And behind the wheel was someone she'd never seen before.

A guy—her age, maybe a little older—was leaning out of the driver's side window, his elbow resting casually on the door. He had a mop of messy blond hair and a smirk that seemed permanently fixed on his face, the kind that made you wonder what he was up to.

"Need a ride?" he called out, his voice smooth, laced with amusement.

Dove hesitated, instinctively clutching the grocery bags a little tighter. She had never seen him before, and in a town like Hawkins, that was rare. Everyone knew everyone here. So who was he?

The car rolled to a stop next to her, and the guy raised an eyebrow, like he was waiting for her to answer.

"C'mon," he coaxed. "It's hot as hell out here. I'll give you a lift."

Dove's heart raced, but not entirely from fear. There was something about this moment that felt... different. New. She had spent the entire summer wishing for something to shake her out of the monotonous routine, and now, this stranger had appeared out of nowhere, offering her exactly that. A break from the ordinary.

Still, her gut told her to be cautious. She didn't know him, and Hawkins wasn't exactly known for strangers. But there was something about the way he looked at her—half playful, half serious—that made her pause.

"Don't tell me you're scared," he said, that smirk widening. "I don't bite."

Dove blinked, her mind racing through all the possibilities—both the good and the bad. She should say no, keep walking. But the thought of trudging the rest of the way home in the heat made her legs feel even heavier. And wasn't this what she had been wanting? Something unexpected?

Before she could overthink it, the words were out. "Sure."

She threw the bags into the backseat, slid into the passenger side, and closed the door with a soft click. The interior of the car was cooler than she'd expected, a faint scent of cigarette smoke mixed with something sharper—maybe cologne—lingering in the air. The leather seats were cracked but comfortable, and the radio hummed low in the background, playing a song she didn't recognize.

The guy shifted in his seat, glancing over at her as he pulled back onto the road. "I'm Billy, by the way," he said, flashing her a grin. "Just moved here."

Dove nodded, unsure of what to say. She hadn't expected this—a stranger, someone completely new to Hawkins. The name didn't ring any bells, and in a town this size, that was unusual.

"I'm Dove," she replied, her voice quieter than she intended.

"Dove," he repeated, as if testing it out. "Cool name."

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, trying to size him up. He had that air of confidence, the kind that came naturally, like he knew exactly who he was and didn't care what anyone thought. He was good-looking, too, with sharp features and eyes that sparkled with a mischievous glint. But there was something else—a danger lurking just beneath the surface.

"So," Billy continued, keeping his eyes on the road, "what's a girl like you doing walking home with groceries? No boyfriend to help you out?"

Dove's grip tightened on the seat, caught off guard by the question. "Just running errands for my mom," she said, brushing off the comment. She didn't know what else to say. She wasn't used to this kind of attention, and certainly not from a guy like Billy—confident, charming, and a complete stranger.

Billy chuckled, but there was an edge to it. "Figures. You seem like the responsible type."

Dove frowned at that. It wasn't the first time someone had labeled her that way, but hearing it from him—someone who didn't even know her—rubbed her the wrong way. Was that all people saw when they looked at her? The good girl who played by the rules? The responsible one who never took risks?

"I'm not," she said, her voice more defensive than she intended.

Billy glanced at her, his smirk widening as if he could see right through her. "Sure you're not."

They turned onto her street, and Dove's house came into view. She hadn't realized how short the ride would be, and for a split second, she wished it had been longer. But now that she was home, a knot of unease settled in her stomach. This guy—Billy—wasn't like anyone she'd ever met, and she wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

He pulled to a stop at the curb, but instead of letting her go, he leaned back in his seat, one arm draped casually over the steering wheel. "You wanna hang out sometime? You know, when you're not busy running errands."

Dove froze, her heart pounding in her chest. She barely knew him. He was new. A stranger. But wasn't this what she had been waiting for all summer? A chance to break out of the ordinary, to do something different? The familiar itch of restlessness tugged at her, urging her to say yes, even as her mind told her to be cautious.

She hesitated, then pulled a pen from her bag, scribbling her number on the back of the grocery receipt. She handed it to him, her hand steady, her heart racing. "Maybe."

Billy's grin widened, and for a moment, she wondered if she had just made a huge mistake. But it was too late to take it back now.

"I'll hold you to that," he said, tucking the receipt into his pocket.

Dove grabbed the grocery bags from the backseat, her pulse still racing as she climbed out of the car. The sun was still beating down, but now it felt different. Like the air had shifted, charged with something she couldn't quite name.

She watched Billy's Camaro rumble down the street, the sound of the engine fading as he disappeared around the corner. The knot of unease was still there, but so was something else—an excitement she hadn't felt all summer.

Maybe this was what she needed. Something new. Something unpredictable.

She stood there for a moment, grocery bags in hand, feeling the weight of her decision. Whatever came next, she wasn't sure if she was ready for it.

Dove walked up the front steps, her mind still buzzing with the brief encounter. She could hear her mom moving around inside, Dustin probably with his friends. But none of it felt important right now. Her mind was stuck on Billy—the new guy in town, the one who had shown up out of nowhere.

And just like that, everything had changed.