rachel 🕸

Peeking only down at the stool, you placed your feet down one at a time before getting down, unknowingly taking the warm hand that helped you down the rest of the way.

Huffing you threw your head back as you sat on the stool, other hand going to block the autumn sun from your view just to peer up at some pretty hazel eyes.

“You alright?” There’s a small smile of amusement on his lips.

Jimmy Holiday.

Your heart was already racing but now the butterflies decided to start acting up too! And that’s when you realized your hand was still being held onto and you snatched it back.

“I had it.”

Jimmy folded his arms underneath his pits as he stated sarcastically, “Oh really? You would have broke some more bones if it wasn’t for me and you know it.”

Scoffing you don’t even bother to look down at the compression sleeve that covered your left knee, “First of all, I don’t need a savior Jimmy, thank you. Also, what the hell are you doing here anyway?”

Jimmy shrugs, “I was on my way to Dezbah and Bryson’s, I left something over at their spot last night and of course they’re too hungover to bring it to me so…And imagine on my way by I see: a bird? A plane? No, a whole person that looked a whole lot like you trying to get on top of their house.”

“Minding your business is free.” You sass with a flick of your hair behind you while Jimmy rolls his eyes up to the sky.

“So these are the things I get for helping you out?”

“Does that also mean holding my hand?” You argue, you knew you were being absolutely ridiculous right now but it was easier to be this way than to give in and tell the star basketball player that you wanted to kiss him right on his stupid mouth.

Jimmy furrowed his brows, “Well…you grabbed my hand first.”

Gagging you say, “I would never! I don’t know where anything on you has been.”

Jimmy smirked and lifted his chin, “yeah you did but keep being delusional and see how far that gets you.” He even kicked at your stool lightly, “It’s okay to say that you enjoy hand holding, arent girls into physical touch?”

“Please stop talking.” You mutter at that generalization, “I’m sure you can get that from any other girl who drooled over you at the party last night.”

That attitude of yours was something.

After the death of your shared friend, Nataanii Jackson the both of you grieved in different ways. Jimmy got more into basketball and you tried to distance yourself. Jimmy and Nataanii were childhood friends, whereas you moved to Chuska freshman year and met Nataanii first. At first you thought maybe he was just interacting with you because he had something to prove after becoming a warrior. You weren’t into the whole clique scene and found it hard making friends in the beginning, still highly upset that you left your small group back on another rez but you were thankful that Nataanii Jackson became a good friend of yours.

And with Nataanii came Jimmy.

The both of you often talked shit to each other and liked giving each other a hard time but underneath it all there was still love there. Then unfortunately that platonic love became something more…at least on your part.

“I think y’all would be cute,” Nataanii teased you one time at lunch during junior year, “I can see the wedding bells now and you should just tell him or I could do it for you? I make the perfect wingman.”

You almost choked on your apple juice as you watched the braided man glance over his shoulder where Jimmy was sitting with the rest of the team. There was a girl who squeezed herself right in between Jimmy and Levi, her hand running up and down Jimmy’s arm as she flirted with him and of course Jimmy was all smiles, just eating the attention right on up.

“Yo Jim—

Nataanii starts but you’re reaching over the table to yank on his collar, bringing his face closer to you so you can slap a hand right over his mouth, “Taanii no!”

You can feel him grinning underneath your hand but that doesn’t stop Jimmy making his way over to you two nonetheless.

“Why you worried about any of them anyway?”he quizzed you, eyes tightening.

Scoffing you quickly move your attention else where, picking at the loose thread from your compression sleeve, “please, far from worried.”

“You’re the one who disappeared and left early.”

“So?”

“So?” Jimmy pressed, “Why is it every time some other girls are around me, you’re nowhere to be found?”

It’s your turn to frown, “Do you want me to be sick watching them fall all over you, Jimmy? Is that going to feed your ego better or something?”

Jimmy blinks, “You know what I think? I think you’re a bad liar. Always have been.”

You snapped, “What exactly have I lied about?”

“You don’t have one of those corny guys you were talking to, to come help you with these decorations? I heard when I went off to recruitment camp, you were entertaining that lame ass dude who looks like Harry Potter.” He taunts.

Your eyes go wide.

“And who exactly did you hear that from? Your most reliable source? Bryson’s dumbass?” You get up from the stool, pulling it into place and start walking towards your front door, “Like I said, I don’t need anybody’s help, let alone some non existent guy you think I’m talking to.”

“Lies.” Jimmy coughed from behind you, which irritated you more.

Slamming the stool against the front door of the home, you ball your fist into your side, “Call me a liar one more time—

“What’s gonna happen? You and your crappy knee going to jump me or something?”

Poking your tongue into your cheek with a raise of your brow, you size him up and what did you do that for? Jimmy decided to grow his hair out for the two months he was at camp and if you weren’t so frustrated you may have completely folded.

So you shoved him, “I can still kick your scrawny ass.”

He laughs as if you didn’t, “Yeah? You’re just mad your lies caught up to you and Dez finally snitched on your ass but alright, you want to fight instead of acknowledging the truth, fine? Let’s go.”

That’s when Jimmy knew he had you because you stepped back and froze.

“What? What did she tell you?”

Jimmy shrugs trying to be coy, “That you got a crush and it ain’t on Harry Potter.”

“There is no—

You started but stopped as you bit down on your bottom lip before continuing, “I don’t know what you’re talking about and I’m getting tired of looking at your face so I’m gonna leave.”

With your back to Jimmy he decides to finally let the ball drop, “Stop being so mean and just admit that you’re in love with me already, damn.”

Deeply exhaling, you can feel your heartbeat in your ears now. Of course somebody close to you ratted you out. It was a miracle that Nataanii kept his mouth shut this long about your little crush that wasn’t so little. Yet it was Dezbah (who was most likely drunk at the time) who ratted you out. She figured it out long before you admitted it to Nataanii. And now you were ready to fight her (again.) regardless if she whooped your ass or not.

“I…”

Then you tried to book it to your front door but of course Jimmy caught you by the elbow. The guy was as tall as the street lights so surely he had the advantage.

“Nope. Not uh, stop running.” He demanded from behind you, gently pulling on you so that you’d finally face him.

He tilts your face up by the chin with his finger so you can meet his honey eyes. “…Would it be so bad if I said…I like you too?”

You laugh before covering your smile, “I’d call you a liar then.”

“I’m not,” Jimmy boldly said, “and to prove it…you should let me kiss you.”

Internally you definitely screamed but your eyes flicked to the lips you thought about way too often plenty of times before.

“How do I know you’re not just toying with me?”

Jimmy lightly shakes his head, “‘Cause I wouldn’t do that? I liked you the first moment I saw you up in the bleachers since Nataanii and I thought you wouldn’t take up his invitation to come to our practice, ‘Miss. I don’t do large crowds.’ You even rooted for me when we were still trying to get to know each other as friends and that meant a lot.” He says bringing up the memory where you skipped study hall to come to their practice which made you smile a bit before he continued, “Also my mom would probably beat my ass if she heard I broke somebody’s heart and vice versa, if my heart got broken. She doesn’t like to show it but she’s also a sucker for a good love story. So promise me you won’t break mine?”

Slowly feeling yourself nodding you say, “Okay.”

Cautiously he pinched at your chin again, guiding your face right to his. Jimmy stops just before your lips, feeling each of your breaths tickling the other while he admired how gorgeous you looked up close and personal. He even tried to tuck some hair out of the way behind your ear, taking his precious time and smiled as the hair poked right back out from your ear.

“Hurry up, scarecrow.” You mumble.

Which makes him smirk, “relax, you’re so bossy.”

“And you’re so irritating.”

Which makes him press his lips right to yours, shutting you up for good. In that moment you felt like your heart exploded as your lips moved together, noses brushing against each other. Jimmy’s lips were incredibly soft and he took his time, holding onto you with great care, even if there was a hint of static the moment your lips connected. That was enough urge to keep you two going and it felt like you could kiss him for hours.

You “hated” it.

Yet you can feel him smiling as you sighed against him just before he pulls back to get a look at you, with your eyes still closed.

“…anybody home?” He jokes.

You groan, moving to bury your head against his chest while he laughed, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “Don’t worry,” he whispers, “that was better than I imagined too.”

It actually felt nice to finally experience this and maybe you should be thanking Dezbah, as soon as you got over your annoyance of her ratting you out.

“…where does this leave us now?”

“Well, I’d like to take you on a date sometime.” He says pulling you back to cradle your face, with a stupid smile on his own.

That made your stomach flip, “really?”

“Yeah…if you’re down?” He peers at you from underneath his eyelashes, making sure that you knew he was serious with how intently he stared into your eyes.

You breathe out a smile, “I guess that’ll be cool…as long as you don’t eat all my food.”

“I’m a gentleman.”

“Eh…so only now you’re a gentleman? Because I can’t tell you how many times you stole a lot of my food during lunch?”

He attempts to defend himself, “…That’s what friends are for?”

“Are we that anymore?”

“Nah. Something better,” He grins as you stood on your tippy toes to kiss his lips once more.

No longer a secret, Jimmy Holiday was now yours and he already loved having you in return.

He thinks.

“I told you I had it!” You say as Jimmy lifts you up on his shoulders to help you on top of the house.

Jimmy sucks his teeth, “Stop your yappin’ baby and just accept that this is boyfriend stuff, acts of service or whatever. This is my job.”

“Who said you’re my boyfriend?” You peek out from over the top of house, pointing the skeleton hand at the olive skinned boy.

Jimmy squints up at you, “oh I’m not? I guess I can go mind my business then.”

“…Don’t you dare leave me up here!” You call out at his back.

Jimmy smirks over his shoulder at you, “that’s what I thought.”

Then a middle finger is sent his way and he can’t help but to kiss his lips up at you.

❤︎𓊇ྀི 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི

“Sorry!” Jonathan says, holding my arms to steady me. 

Jonathan. I forgot mom wanted me to talk to him today. 

“It’s okay, I’m glad I found you.” I respond with a small smile. 

“Oh…” he says, fixing his buttoned shirt. 

I give Jonathan a quick once over, feeling a pit in my stomach. Jonathan looked like he was slowly spiralling. His hair was sticking out in all directions from running his hands through it too much. I know the Byers don’t have a lot of money, but they were always put together…Jonathan’s clothes looked like he threw them all haphazardly. The bags under his eyes are what stuck out to me the most. I’ve known Jonathan since we were little kids. Despite our little brothers being best friends, Jonathan and I don’t hang out one on one like Nancy and I do. The only time I have was freshman year, last year. I was his model for his photography project. We took a lot of photos at the park some regular, others with me in my pointe shoes, doing various poses and positions. The photos came out beautifully and Jonathan gave me a couple to keep for myself. Mom framed it and put it on the fireplace.

“I just wanted to know how you’re doing. I’m sorry for not checking in sooner.” I shake my head. “I didn’t know how.” 

“It’s been…rough.” He says, avoiding eye contact. “My mom isn’t doing so well.” 

“I can only imagine what you’re going through. I hope you know we’re here for you.” 

“Thanks, Diana. It means a lot.” 

I bow my head, pursing my lips. “My mom made cookies for you guys yesterday and she stopped by, but your mom wasn’t home. She left them on the porch.” 

“Oh yeah. My mom got them,” he said with a small laugh. It sounded forced. “I only had a few. They were really good. Tell your mom I said thanks…from both of us.”  I can tell it pained him to say both because they are a family of three. 

“I will.” 

Jonathan shifts from side to side. “Um, do you need a ride? I can drive you home.” 

What is it with boys offering me rides? 

“You live on the opposite side of town.” I point out. 

“I know, but I don’t mind. Really.”

I sense Jonathan doesn’t want to be alone and nod my head. “Thank you. That’s very nice of you.” 

As we approach Jonathan’s car, I am surprised to find Steve, Carol, Tommy H and another girl, who I don’t recognize standing around. I am immediately filled with dread, having spent the entire day avoiding them. Steve watches Jonathan with a scowl on his face and pushes himself off the car, walking toward us. 

“Hey, man.” He greets Jonathan. It’s as if I don’t exist. 

Jonathan swallows, eyes scanning the group. “What’s going on?” 

“Nicole here was telling us about your work.” 

“We’ve heard great things.” Carol says sarcastically. Tommy H and Nicole smile, but it looks more like a sneer. 

“Yeah, sounds cool.” Tommy H adds.

I squint not understanding what’s going on. 

“And we’d just love to take a look. You know, as…connoisseurs of art.” 

Jonathan pushes pass Steve to his car. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Oh, no?” Steve asks. 

Tommy H quickly snatches Jonathan’s bag from his shoulder, throwing it to Steve who catches it with ease. Jonathan goes to Tommy H who bumps him in the chest, antagonizing him. 

“Hey!” I shout, marching to separate them. 

Tommy H stares down at me, like I’m an insect. “You hanging out with freaks and perverts now, Sinclair?” He taunts. 

I ignore him, pushing Jonathan away. Tommy H smirks at me as if he’s in on some inside joke I’m not sure about. 

“Please, give me my bag.” Jonathan stammers. Steve begins to unzip his backpack. “No just…” 

“Man, he is totally trembling.” Steve muses, “He must really have something to hide.” Steve pulls out a stack of paper. “Here we go.” 

“Let me see.” Tommy H says and Steve hands him half the stack. He’s glaring at Jonathan and I’m wondering what has him so mad. 

Tommy H flips through the paper, scowling as he goes. He looks up at Jonathan in disgust. “Dude. Yeah, this isn’t creepy at all.” 

Jonathan shifts from side to side. “I was looking for my brother.” 

It’s then I realize these are photos. Carol takes some out of Tommy H’s hand to look for herself. She pops her gum obnoxiously wearing the same disgusted look on her face. I swallow, glancing at Jonathan. He looks so uncomfortable; I fear the worse about the photos. 

“No. This is called stalking.” Steve snaps. 

“Give those back.” I demand. I don’t know what those photos are, but I don’t think it’s appropriate for everyone to be seeing, Especially if they are supposedly that bad. 

“You defending this creep?” Steve spat. 

“I’m not defending him. Just—” 

“There’s some of you too, you know.” Steve says, cutting me off. He hands me a stack of photos. 

I take the photos flipping through them. He wasn’t lying. There were photos of me by the pool while I was dancing by myself. Some with me and Barb sitting on the lawn chairs. Some of me in the Scorpion pose in front of the group. I see the grimace on Tommy H and Carol’s faces and am instantly transported to that moment last night. The feeling of embarrassment creeps up my spine. My stomach is in knots. From the corner of my eye, Jonathan is looking at me. I can’t believe he’d do this. Part of me feels betrayed and foolish. I was consoling him about his brother and he was…I rip the photos in my hands, shoving them in my bag. 

“This is so inappropriate for everyone to be looking at, don’t you think?” 

“What’s going on?” 

I turn around and see Nancy approaching us. I haven’t seen her since lunch. This day just keeps getting more and more worse. 

“Here’s the starring lady.” Tommy H announces with a smirk. 

Nancy arches her brow. “What?” 

“This creep was spying on us last night.” Carol responds, gesturing to Jonathan. She pulls a photo and hands it to Nancy. I glare at the red-head, shaking my head. “He was probably going to save this one for later.” 

Nancy takes the picture and I can tell by the look on her face and the flush in her cheeks, the photo is less than pleasant. She looks at Jonathan who avoids her stare. Steve rolls the photos in his hands. Usually, Steve is happy and aloof at school, but right now he looks menacing as he approaches Jonathan. 

“See, you can tell that he knows it was wrong, but…” he fixes Jonathan’s shirt, wiping off imaginary dust off his shoulders. “Man, that’s the thing about perverts. It’s hardwired into them. They can’t help themselves.” Steve rips the photos in his hands, throwing them on the ground. I watch Steve walk back to Jonathan’s bag by the car. “So, we’ll just have to take away his toy.” He opens the bag pulling out Jonathan’s camera. 

“Steve.” Nancy mutters.  

Jonathan charges for Steve but is quickly pushed back by Tommy H. 

“No, please, not the camera!” 

“Tommy. Tommy.” Steve cautions. “It’s okay.” He coos, walking to Jonathan. He hands him the camera. “Here you go man.”

Jonathan goes to take it from his hand, but Steve is faster and drops the camera on the ground. My jaw drops as the lens cover pops out and bits of the camera shatters. Tommy H laughs and Steve stares at the ground. I notice he avoids looking at Jonathan. There’s a flicker of sorrow behind his eyes but it’s gone as soon as it appears. 

“Come on, let’s go. The game’s about to start.” 

Nicole follows behind Steve and Carol rips up the remaining photos dropping them on the ground in front of Jonathan. Tommy H saunters toward him. 

“Boo.” He whispers. 

Tommy H then turns to me and grins triumphantly and makes sure to brush me when he walks away. When everyone is gone, Jonathan immediately drops to the ground reaching for his camera. I drop to my knees picking up the remnants of the photos. I see bits and pieces of Nancy in what I assume is Steve’s room and clench my jaw, snatching them from the ground before they flew away. Nancy drops to the ground beside me picking up a few scraps. I assume she’s helping until Steve calls her name. She looks at me and Jonathan before apologizing. I watch her hurry to Steve and walk with him towards the school. 

I continue to pick up the photos trying my best to avoid looking at them too much just wanting to get rid of them. My eyes betray me at the sight of another photo of me dancing by the pool by myself. If the photo was taken in better circumstances, I would’ve found it pretty. I crumple the picture in my hands shaking my head. 

“Jonathan…” I groan. 

“It’s not what it looks like!” 

I stare at him in disbelief. “It doesn’t look like you’ve been taking unsolicited photos of us?”

Jonathan shakes his head. “No—” I scoff standing to my feet, walking to the nearest trash can. “Diana I can explain.” He calls from behind.  

I look back at him, feeling nothing but disappointment and anger. Anger about Nancy, Barb, Steve Tommy H, Carol, Nicole now Jonathan and these photos. I feel like everything is coming at me in all directions and I don’t know what to do.

“I was giving you my condolences for Will and you had these in your bag the entire time!” I shout, waving the scraps in my hands.  

“I’m sorry, okay!” Jonathan cries, rushing toward me. 

I scoff throwing the photos in the trash. “You developed them, Jonathan.”  That was the worst part about it. It’s one thing to take the photos, but to develop them. For what? For what reason? 

“I know, I know!” Jonathan exclaims. “I didn’t…I just…” he runs his fingers through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut. I know he feels bad, but I don’t care. 

“How long were you standing there taking photos of us? Some of these photos are of…” I look around before continuing. “Nancy taking off her shirt.” I hiss quietly at him. 

“I was looking for my brother and then I heard screaming and ran thinking it was my brother, but then I saw Tommy and Carol—”

“Oh, my god.” 

“I don’t know why I did it! There’s no excuse for it. I messed up.” 

“I am so…” I clench my hands into tight fists and squeeze my eyes shut. My chest feels tight. “Ugh.” I stomp the ground. “I can’t even think straight. You boys are so…so…stupid!” 

“I’m so sorry, Diana.” 

I open my eyes and take a deep breath finding Jonathan looking at me. I notice the bags under his eyes and how disheveled and stressed out he looks. He’s been through a lot the past few days, but it’s no excuse to do something like this. He looks down at his camera, toying with the cracked lens. For as long as I’ve known Jonathan, he’s never without his camera and now with Will gone, I know he has been more attached to it now, more than ever. 

“Let me see,” I sigh, extending my hand. Jonathan looks at me for a moment, but hands me his camera. 

I inspect the damage. It’s bad. He definitely won’t be able to use the camera anymore. Part of me thinks he deserved the confrontation, but the other part doesn’t think Stee had a right to break his camera. That was going overboard. Nonetheless…

“Steve didn’t need to break your camera to prove his point.” I begin, handing the camera back to him. “But honestly, it was justified. You invaded his privacy too, Jonathan.” 

When he doesn’t reply. I shake my head, fixing my bag on my shoulder. From the corner of my eye, I see someone coming towards us and I brace myself for round two, but when I turn, it’s Nancy. She’s speed walking and there’s a worried look on her face. Nancy touches my arm and pulls me. 

Not with what you’d done. It was to survive, and while you’ve come to terms with how scary you could be in the past you thought it stayed there.

In the past.

Tonight had proven to you that you could always access that piece of you. That terrifying piece that was a killing machine. The emphasis doesn’t lie in efficiency, but in ruthlessness. You had shown no mercy, the switch for empathy and compassion turned off as soon as your hindbrain decided that it was fight or flight. Dormantly thirsty, lurking in the shadows waiting for its time, it chose to fight. But you had gone a step too far—like always— because of your lack of control.

You were messy, enjoying the cutting of thick flesh, the warmth of the blood as it sprayed you. The copper smell, so familiar and embarrassingly comforting, though you didn’t have the mind to think that now, not when you were exposing the pink underbelly of a corpse.

Santi’s been pacing the hallway since you all made it back to the safe house. He’d tried to chat you up on the way home with no success. You wouldn’t meet his eye, and when he drew nearer to catch your gaze it was empty. It chilled his blood. He wasn’t sure of what exactly happened in that room you’d gotten ambushed in but he’d seen the aftermath. Recalling the image of standing over one too many dead bodies, a gleam in your eye had made his stomach curl. He’d smoothed his hand over your knee and left it at that, trying his best to banish all the red and pink and white.

It’s been an hour since you’d stumbled into the bathroom. He can hear the shower still going when he puts his ear to the door and sighs, a mix of frustrated and concerned. He’s not sure what to do– he’s never had to take care of you before. He’s always been grateful for that given all the fondness he has for you bubbling just beneath. Any acknowledgement could jeopardize too much– missions, the dynamic of the team, and most importantly your friendship.

“You alright in there?” He calls softly through the door.

He’s met with silence. He rolls his neck, cursing beneath his breath as his mind goes back and forth, trying to decide what to do.

“Just go in there and check on her,” Frankie says from behind him, causing the other man to flinch. “Didn’t mean to scare you. You alright?”

“I’m fine,” Santi assures Frankie, leaning against the wall to face the man. He nods at the door. “She could be naked.”

Frankie snorts, shrugging. “She’s seen all of us at least half naked and well, Benny—“

Santi quickly cuts him off, trying to keep the sour jealousy out of his voice. He knows that there’s nothing going on between you and Benny, that Benny is as much of a flirt as he is but sillier and less concerned with his image. “But we haven’t seen her. I don’t— I’m a dog but I’m a respectful one.”

“If she’s gonna get help from anybody on this it’d be you. She trusts you man.”

Santi looks at him like he’s grown two heads but feels a little warm, “She trusts all of us, kind of a prerequisite of living and working with a group of men.”

“It's different with you. You should hear the way she talks about you when you’re not around.”

Santi almost lets himself think about it. Almost lets himself dream a little. Almost.

“Or see the way she looks at you when you’re not looking. Like a lost fucking puppy,” Benny pipes in, breezing down through the hallway between the two of them.

“Don’t sound so concerned, Benjamin,” Santi calls after the man, mouth quirking into a grin.

“Don’t look so smug, Santiago,” Frankie teases.

“I’m not smug,” He denies. He decides to go in, okay with being kicked out by you if it means that Frankie will be gone, done poking and prodding at what the man must know is his heart.

“Good luck.”

Santi murmurs a quiet thanks before slowly entering the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He stands, frozen in place for several moments as he digests the sight of you. It's heartbreaking. His chest goes tight, and he curses softly again. What could he do for you? He’d do anything, but he’s just not sure what. He feels helpless seeing you like this. He could burn this entire city, burn anyone who would look at you wrong. Hell, he’d burn the entire world if it meant some warmth would come back into your eyes.

You’re curled up, your arms resting atop your knees, head resting to stare forward. Your curly hair that usually frames your face is completely soaked like the rest of you, flat and sticking to your face in various places. He knows that your eyes are unseeing, that you’re so incredibly removed from yourself because you make no indication that he’s stepped into the room.

“I’m gonna come sit beside you, okay? That’s it. No words,” Despite his words he stays where he is for a handful of seconds, hoping to get some sort of answer from you. You don’t speak a word, don’t utter or sound or so much as look in his direction. But you do shift slowly, making more room for him underneath the water.

“Fuck, it’s freezing,” He grits out, drawing close enough to you that your shoulders rest flush against each other.

He gazes over at you, noticing the way the water glimmers on your brown skin. The way its collected on your dark eyelashes. If these were different circumstances maybe for just a handful of seconds he’d let himself get lost in your beauty. But then you acknowledge him– sort of. You hum softly and the leaning of your head on his shoulder. It's a good sign and he relaxes beside you.

“Do you want me to shut it off?” He asks gently, reaching out to take your hands into his. Your fingers are cold as ice, and he rubs at them in a futile attempt to generate some heat.

“No, please. No,” You beg hoarsely, suddenly springing to life. You grip at his hands desperately, eyes wide with panic as you finally meet his gaze.

“Alright, hush, cariño, I’ve got you. C’mere, baby,” He shushes you, pulling you into his arms and flush against him.

At little more present in the moment, you feel the chill registering. You curl up, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. There’s still some warmth in his skin and you press into it, letting the sound of his steady breath lull you back into a dissociative state.

Santi holds you for an undetermined amount of time. He runs his hands up your back, over the crown of your hair, feeling the difference of how your curls feel when wet. His hand drifts to your chin, and he leans away, tipping your head up.

“Honey, you’ve gotta talk to me,” He whispers.

Your dark eyes have a little more life to them, but that’s only amplified the sadness they hold. “Santi, I can’t. I can’t. Don’t make me, please.”

“I have to, you can’t stay like this. We’ve got to get it out in the open.”

“Like you do?” You challenge– your voice distinctly unkind, harder than he’s ever heard it before. His brow furrows and guilt blossoms inside of you. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have. This just fucking sucks, Santiago. Its all wrong again.”

“Tell me what’s wrong and we’ll fix it.”

“There’s no way we can fix it. I’m just broken. I’ll always be haunted by her. She’ll always be here, waiting for an opportunity for that.”

“You preach that shit to me and the guys. Day in and day out. Every mission, and you don’t believe it?”

“I do— I did. I believe it for you. For them. You’re good people, Santi. Good men, all of you. You take care of me.”

“You take care of us, honey. Fish hangs on your every word. Will too. Benny is well— Benjamin.”

“And you?”

He shrugs, “You know I gave into this a long time ago. Before we even met. No other way for me to be.”

“Do you believe me?”

“I try to. I want to. There are parts of me too that I don’t like. I want them gone. I rip them up and bury them but they always come back to haunt me. I don’t think that means I’m not trying to be better, but it means I’ll never be the man I want to be.”

You frown at him, concerned, “Santi—“

“It’s okay. I accepted that after the first tour. Sometimes you gotta let the horse be dead.”

“Do you think my horse is dead?”

There’s no room for his ego, no room for hiding when he hears the blatant fear in your question.

He rests his head back against the wall, murmuring, “I think you’re the sweetest thing this earth has to offer.”

“You think so?”

“Bouncing around with your curls, and your sweet little smile. Kicking Benny’s ass with grace while you’ve got a cake in the oven. You should see yourself with Frankie’s little girl.”

“Seems like you watch me a lot,” You suggest softly.

“I watch you all the time,” He admits, but there’s no shame in his voice. In fact you can see resolve in his eyes, and possessiveness. A chill runs down your spine and it’s not from the water. Santi mistakes it for that anyway. “Let me turn this off for us?”

He’s still asking. Still checking in with you though there’s much more light in your eyes.

“Yeah, okay.”

Santi leans up and turns off the shower, letting out a sigh of relief. He runs his hands over your wet curls, pushing them away from your forehead. His thumbs swipe your cold cheeks, brushing away some of the water droplets.

Without that steady sound of the shower, sheets cascading down on you, you both are feeling a little more exposed.

“I came in here to make sure you were alright, not spill my fucking guts. I just had to take care of you,” He says, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant.

“You can always take it back,” You say teasingly, though most of you expect him to bite at your offer.

He’s said much more in these last few minutes than he ever has to you— Santi’s a sweet guy under all his charm, but he never lets you see below the surface. Not until now, when letting you in seemed like the only way to get you out.

It takes more effort than he expects to pull himself away from you. He leans back against the shower wall, nimble fingers lacing together in his lap. “And lose you?”

“You could never lose me, Santi,” You murmur, reaching out to grab one of his hands.

Your eyes roam him, a little in disbelief at what’s happening right now. But yes, it is Santiago Garcia sitting next to you. With his dark brown eyes, his sharp jaw dappled with stubble, his salt and pepper hair looking much darker and curlier than usual due to the water.

“Yeah?” Santi asks, eyes glued to where yours sits atop his. He traces slowly over the sight of you two linked together, admiring how soft and rich your skin looks even after sitting in a shower for so long.

He’s a goner isn’t he?

“Yeah.”

There are butterflies in his stomach. Butterflies, sweat slicking his palms despite the fact that he’s soaked through his clothes and down to the bone. He realizes in this moment that he’s not just a goner. No— he loves you. He knew that he was harboring some kind of feelings for you, but when your eyes meet his— earnest and tender— he can only think one thing: I love you.

His eyes hungrily drop to your full mouth, and another shiver runs down your spine. “Let me kiss you.”

You nod, squeezing his hand that’s still in yours.

“I need to hear you say it. You have to say it for me, so I can believe it.”

“I want you to kiss me, Santiago. Please.”

He’s on you then. All over you. His hands move quickly, guiding you back into his lap before one loops around your torso and holds you close. The other cups your jaw, angling it back so that he can press his mouth to yours. You’re breathless before the space between you is closed, chest heaving at how sure and firm his hands are. He kisses you. Kisses and kisses you, like his life depends on it. Like you’re lost and the only thing that will guide you home is his insistent tongue.

Your hands slip and slide against the fabric of his wet shirt before you give up, raising them to tentatively cup his face so that you can have leverage.

“That’s it honey, kiss me back. Take what you want to. Whatever you need,” He encourages between kisses.

Take you do. You squirm in his lap until he lets you shift and straddle him. It had started with him leading you, consuming you but now it’s your turn to surround him. Santi gives in, sighing into your mouth as your tongue goes on the hunt for his. You kiss him. Kiss him and kiss him until your mouth aches. When you pull away his is flushed pink, newly wet. You run your thumb over his lips before wiping your own mouth.

He looks up at you like hang the moon. His eyes are soft and hazy, pink mouth pulling up into a smirk. There’s the Santi you know. The Santi you love. But even now, he’s softer and sweeter, gathering you close again.

“What do you need now, sweetheart? What can I do to make it better?”

“You.”

“I’m yours.”

“Hey monster,” I greet, kissing the top of her head. “Where’s mom and dad?” 

“They went to the supermarket; said they’ll be back in an hour.” She replies, looking at her dolls. “Aren’t you supposed to be at Nancy’s?” 

“Change of plans.” 

“Is it because of Will?” 

I frown shaking my head. “No, why would it be?

“I overheard Mom talking to Miss Byers on the phone. Miss Byers says Will is missing.” 

I flinch, my heart plummeting to my stomach. I grip the back of the couch. “What?” I exclaim. “Didn’t the boys all leave Mike’s at the same time?”

Erica shrugs. “I don’t know.” 

“Where’s Lucas?” 

 “In his room.” 

I run up the stairs to his room finding the door closed. My heart flutters in my chest. A closed door is a bad sign. Lucas rarely kept his door closed. I gently knock.

“I said leave me alone, Erica!” Lucas snaps. 

 “It’s me,” I say, calmly. “Can I come in?” 

Lucas doesn’t respond.  A sudden stab of anxiety is in my gut and I rock back and forth on my feet. I understand Lucas not wanting to talk to Erica. She was eight and annoyed him to no end, but me? I can’t wait any longer and raise my hand to knock again when I hear the faintest ‘yes’ from the other side. I sigh in relief, scared of Lucas shutting me out and open the door. 

I poke my head in first, just to make sure I heard him properly. Lucas lay on his bed staring blankly up at the ceiling. He doesn’t flinch or twitch at my presence so I open the door wider, letting myself in before closing it shut behind me. Lucas kept a clean room. All of us did, not like we had much of a choice. Dad was serving in the Vietnam War when he met Mom and brought with him all his military training and customs when they decided to marry and raise a family together. I gradually extend my leg tendu devant, looking at the arch in my foot before relaxing it. 

For the first time ever, the room feels cold. Lucas still hasn’t moved from his bed or even acknowledged me and it worries me. I stroll to the bed, climbing on top and lie down beside him staring up at the ceiling. Even lying beside my little brother, I feel like I am miles away from him. I don’t know what to say. I never understood how Nancy and Mike could go hours without talking to each other in their house. It was like they lived separate lives. Not here. I want to be a part of Lucas and Erica’s lives. I want both of them to know they can talk to me about anything. I’ll always listen even if I don’t understand. 

I turn my head, gazing at Lucas. When I was three years old, I asked Santa for a little brother. Then Mom got pregnant with Lucas and I never stopped talking about it. I told anyone who would listen. Santa got me a little brother. When Mom and Dad brought Lucas home from the hospital, it was love at first sight. I knew from that moment on, I would do anything for him. Sometimes I think about Lucas and Erica growing up and get emotional. They were once so small and followed me everywhere. Now, they don’t care what I do. I miss the times when Mom would dress us three alike. It was ridiculous because I am four years older than Lucas and eight years older than Erica. I don’t know how Mom managed to get matching outfits in threes. I should ask her tonight at dinner. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Lucas asks. 

“Because I love you,” I reply without thinking. 

“You’re freaking me out.” 

I smile, turning my head back to the ceiling. The room feels warm again, but my smile fades. I have to ask the one question a person did not want to be asked when something was clearly wrong. 

“Are you okay?” 

Lucas doesn’t respond right away. I push down the panic bubbling in my chest and rely heavily on patience. A few minutes pass before he shrugs his shoulders. I try again. 

“Erica told me about Will. Do you want to talk about it?” 

No answer again. My stomach shrivels and panic rises in my chest. I push myself up to sit leaning back against a pillow and cross my legs. On instinct, I point my toes. 

“Can you please talk to me?” 

Lucas closes his eyes and I let out a deep sigh accepting defeat. I desperately want to know what he is thinking and feeling, but maybe now isn’t the time. I shuffle to the edge of the bed. 

“Will didn’t show up to school today.” 

My heart leaps in my chest and I look back at Lucas. His eyes are open again but he is still looking up at the ceiling. I lean back on the pillow, not daring to say another word. Lucas wants me to listen, not talk. 

“I thought he would show at for AV club at least. Mr. Clarke got the Heath Kit Ham Shack I’ve been telling you about,” he sits up leaning against the other pillow, tucking his knees close to his chest. “It’s so cool. Mr. Clarke says we can communicate with people as far as Australia.” He gushes with a faint smile. My heart warms at the joy in his dark brown eyes. “Me, Mike, and Dustin were using the Heath Kit, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Will and what he would think about it, y’know?” 

“Then Principal Coleman came and asked to speak to all of us. Chief Hopper was outside the classroom looking at us and I knew it had to be about Will. We follow Principal Coleman to his office and then Chief Hopper starts asking us a bunch of questions about Will, but we haven’t seen him since last night.” 

“Questions like what?” I ask. Lucas looks at me for the first time since entering his room. 

“Like, when was the last time we saw him? How does he get home? We were all trying to explain to Chief Hopper that Will takes Mirkwood to go home.” 

I tilt my head to the side inquisitively. 

“It’s where Cornwallis and Kerley meet.” Lucas explains. “We could’ve shown him but he told us to go home after school. He won’t even let us help him look for Will!”

“You are helping Chief Hopper find will, Lucas. If you boys didn’t tell him how Will gets home, he wouldn’t have known where to look.”

Lucas disagrees with my reasoning, wrinkling his nose and shaking his head. 

“No one in town even knows Will exists. Only we do.” Lucas spoke, expression full of disdain. “We know Will more than anyone here. It’s not fair for us to be stuck at home when he’s missing!” 

“I understand, but we don’t know what happened to Will. If he’s been kidnapped or if the person who took him is still out there. What if you go out there and something happens to you too?” 

“I have my wrist-rocket.” Lucas says matter-of-factly. 

My eyebrows go up at his response and I press my lips together to keep from laughing out loud. I know he isn’t kidding about the wrist-rocket and that’s what makes his answer so cute and endearing. I remember when Dad bought it for him and how against Mom was about it saying it was too dangerous for Lucas to have. Dad says the wrist-rocket is harmless, but I’ve seen Lucas practice with the sling-shot and it was far from harmless. 

“What’s so funny?” Lucas asks, squinting his eyes suspiciously. 

“Nothing is funny.” I reply, grinning as I slide down until my head touches the pillow. 

Lucas plops backwards onto the pillow with a ‘hmph’. I roll to my side facing him, knowing he was ignoring my stare again. Reaching out my hand, I poke his cheek with my finger. A faint smile appears on his pink lips and he rolls to his side, batting my hand away. I can see the sadness beneath his kind eyes and it makes my heart ache for him.  I know how much Will means to my brother and the boys. They were a unit. A family. I would be frustrated too if Nancy or Barbara went missing and I wasn’t allowed to help look for them. But I’m turning 16 and Lucas just turned 12. The risk of him endangering himself out there is far too great. 

Lucas shuffles closer, resting his forehead under my chin. On instinct, I wrap my arms around his back holding him close, drawing circles against his back. I close my eyes breathing in his scent. He smells of the outdoors and coconut oil. His shoulders relax beneath my fingers. Lucas would die if the boys knew he loves to cuddle. It’s something we did together often. On the couch, in our beds, on the floor. Sometimes Erica joins when she’s in the mood, but that was rare. We are quiet for a long moment enjoying each other’s company. 

“I think it’s best you stay inside and let Chief Hopper look for Will, okay?” I speak. “Wrist-rocket or not.” 

 Lucas sighs. “Okay.” 

 “We’re going to find Will. I promise.” 

Lucas doesn’t respond, instead he nuzzles against me. I peer over his shoulder at the window. I think about Jonathan and Miss Byers and can’t fathom to know how they must be feeling right now. Nothing ever happens in Hawkins. It’s a quiet suburban town outside the metropolis. People don’t go missing in Hawkins. Most of the town knew each other growing up or grew up together. It’s why Dad loves it here so much. Hawkins is safe. Peaceful. Unassuming. Everyone’s day starts and ends the same way every day. The disappearance of Will Byers frightens me for that reason. It doesn’t make sense for him to vanish on a route he took every day and if someone knew this and took Will…I shudder, pulling Lucas close. I can’t bear to think of someone doing that and hope Chief Hopper finds Will soon. 

Dinner was quiet tonight. No one brought up Will’s disappearance for the sake of Lucas, but it weighed down on all of us. Lucas went straight to his room closing the door behind him. 

“Give him space.” Dad said, looking down at Mom who looked like she was about to follow after him. 

That was over three hours ago. 

Heavy rain rattles the window and thunder booms and cracks in the sky. I rub my tired eyes reading through my cue cards. I made at least 50 cards to study from, each colour-coded according to chapter. I softly hum a sequence from the Swan Lake tape playing from my boom box and I glance at the clock at the corner of my night table. 10:13pm. I sit up in my bed twisting my body to the side to crack my back and slipped out of bed. 

Dad went to look for Will with the search party Chief Hopper gathered and came back about an hour ago. There was still no sign of him. I bend forward touching my hands to the floor and stretch out my hamstrings. Stretching calms me down. My anxiety is through the roof. The Nutcracker showcase, Kaminsky’s test, Will’s disappearance, and the emotional state of my brother, it all played out in a loop in my head. I lower to the floor and sit in a side straddle. While flexing my feet, I lie down on my stomach in a middle split and close my eyes. 

I breathe deeply, allowing my body to relax into the stretch. Despite everything being scrambled up in my brain, the one thought at the forefront is my brother. I feel for him. I feel with him. When we spoke in the afternoon, I saw the way his eyes lit up and how excited he was to see the Heath Kit Ham Shack. The way he immediately thought of Will…I open my eyes and sigh, swimming through the split until my feet are behind me. I know Dad said to give Lucas space and I honour his space, but that was three hours ago. I need to check on him. 

Mine and Erica’s rooms are across from Mom, Dad and Lucas’s rooms. I slowly open my door careful not to be loud. Mom and Dad are in their room watching the news in their room. I saunter across the hall to Lucas’s room and softly knock, waiting to be let in. Nothing. Maybe he’s sleeping. I turn the knob, carefully opening his door. The lights were off except for the bedside lamp. I frown at the lump under the covers. It’s too smooth. Lucas is a terrible sleeper; his bedsheet would’ve been halfway off his bed if he were really asleep. 

Unless.

No. He wouldn’t. Lucas is too smart to leave home at this night, especially in the middle of a storm. Checking to see if anyone was around, I tiptoe to his bed and peel off the covers. I freeze staring at the pillow posing as my brother. I want to scream. I want to call Mom and Dad. Instead, I count down from five in my head, willing my mind and body to relax and I pull the covers back over the pillow.   

This is so stupid, even for him. I am in the mudroom by the garage wearing a bright yellow raincoat, slipping on a pair of red rainboots. The moon shines bright, illuminating this side of the house. I stand up reaching for a long umbrella in the umbrella stand and a flashlight on the shelf. Lucas is just in the front yard, playing soccer. I lie to myself. I know I should get Mom and Dad, but with Will disappearing, I don’t want another unfortunate spectacle to happen in Hawkins. 

My senses heighten as I hear shuffling in the garage and I stand still in case my mind is playing tricks on me. The door to the mudroom opens and Lucas slowly enters, closing the door carefully behind him. Without thinking, I march towards him. 

“Lucas!” I whisper loudly. 

Lucas jumps in a startle and I cover his mouth before he has a chance to scream. Waking up the entire house is not part of my plan. Lucas’s eyes are wide and fearful. Upon realizing it’s only me, he sighs in relief. I remove my hand from his mouth pulling my hood off my head at the same time. I am so overcome with anger and relief; I don’t know whether to hug or hit him. 

“Were you outside this whole time?” I hiss, quietly. I don’t give him the chance to answer. “Where were you, Lucas? Please, please tell me you didn’t go out to look for Will on your own.” 

“I didn’t. I swear. I was with Dustin and Mike.” 

“Like that’s any better.” I retort. “You have got to be kidding me! Chief Hopper had a search party out looking for Will tonight, Lucas. Dad went!” 

“We can’t just stay here and do nothing. We had to look for him ourselves. Will protected the Party from the Demogorgon, we had to at least try to find him.” 

I shake my head trying to make sense of what he just said. Demogorgon? I don’t know what he’s talking about. 

“What are you even saying right now? Do you know what time it is?” I don’t give him time to answer again. “You’re lucky it’s me and not Mom and Dad or worse Erica finding you.”

“I know.” 

I put my hands on his damp shoulders. “Don’t ever do that again.” 

“I won’t.” 

I sigh in relief, unbuttoning my raincoat. At least I don’t have to go outside in the rain. Lucas shrugs off his backpack and unzips his jacket, hanging it on the hanger. He then takes off his muddy running shoes, hiding them and picks up his backpack. By then, I am already in my pyjamas. 

“Diana?” Lucas says. I turn around. “Are you going to tell Mom and Dad?” he asks, eyes wary. 

 “No.” 

I know I should. But I won’t. Lucas is back in the house safe and sound. Mom and Dad don’t need to know what happened tonight. Lucas hugs me and I cringe, scrunching my nose. 

“Thank you. You’re the best.” 

“Ew, you’re cold and wet.” I grimace. “You need to take a shower before you get sick.” 

"Be my muse."

“Me?”

“Yes, you.”

Drew lowered her eyes to examine herself. Her frame was covered by an old Bon Jovi shirt and baggy sweatpants she stole from a Walmart rack during the summer. Her shoes were busted from constant use, seeing as they were her favorite and the most comfortable of her small collection. Consciously, she patted her curls before pulling one down and testing its spring.

“W-what about the other girl in your art class? The one with the black hair and brown eyes?”

Peter shook his head slowly, uninterested in the other young woman she’d mentioned. He continued to clean the lenses of the camera while facing her, watching as a million thoughts circled through her head. “You’re the only girl with black hair and brown eyes that I’m interested in.”

A sheepish look glossed over her face. “Peter, I’m not the type to be someone’s muse. What do I do?”

“Just sit there and be pretty,” he replied gently with a small smile. Drew cleared her throat awkwardly and nodded. She adjusted her position in the rickety chemistry class stool and shrugged, “Now what?”

“Can I?” Peter gestured toward her, hoping she’d allow him to enter her space. She nodded her head. He placed his camera on one of the tables and took two slow steps toward her. “Relax.” A gentle hand swept over her shoulders, which fell immediately. He took her hands in his and placed them on her thighs. He ignored the zip that ran through his being at the feeling of her lush flesh against his palm.

Drew’s eyes were on him as he brought a shaky hand to her face, brushing away strands of hair that blocked her pretty brown eyes. He smiled at her. “Just relax. No one’s gonna see this but you and me.”

Drew nodded and pushed out a breath. Peter swiped his camera off the table and positioned it before his eye. With one press against the button, a flash erupted throughout the room. Drew gasped and put her hand on her face.

“I wasn’t ready!”

“Sorry, sorry. Okay, again, one, two…”

Drew stared into the camera, trying to do one of those stoic, yet seductive faces she’d seen fellow classmates post on social media. She felt that it wasn’t enough and that she looked awkward trying to force what didn’t come naturally. A series of flashes went off for at least ten more minutes. More poses and more instructions came and the more she grew anxious and uncomfortable.

“Peter—“ she started with a heavy sigh. “I don’t feel…I—“

Peter peeked from behind the camera. “Just one more. Do whatever feels right, okay? Then we’re done.”

Drew twisted her lips but nodded. She was over it, he could tell. From behind the camera, Peter’s insides churned. How could one be so unaware of their angelic aura? He’d never understood. Everything she disliked about herself, he loved. Like the hereditary beauty marks spread across her cheeks, or the faint unibrow that grew back after months of trying to wax it. The small stutter she had when she got excited because her mouth couldn’t keep up with her brain.

“One…two…three.” Flash. Peter pulled the camera away and waited for a moment to examine it. His lips parted and a small breath fell from his lips. He raised his eyes to meet hers, which were glistening with an emotion he couldn’t quite identify. But by the pounding of her heart, he knew she was expecting the worst.

In the photo, she had tucked her hands between her thighs and rested her feet atop the bar at the door of the stool. Her head was tilted a few degrees to the right, and for once, she smiled. Not a wide grin with her teeth showing, but one that was simple. The dimple in her left cheek was prominent and she looked as sweet as candy.

“How’s it look?”

A grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “Beautiful.”