THE FOLLOWING DAY OF SCHOOL inched by at a pace that served to remind Amara of just how mundane everything about high school was. She was positive that she was one of the few people who actively participated in physics as most of her classmates devoured a pack of gum and gossiped about a party Theresa Logan was throwing while her parents were out of town for the weekend. English was no different, with their teacher monotonously reciting a poem by Walt Whitman while the bulk of the class dozed off. After Spanish Amara ate lunch alone in the alleyway again, selfishly looking forward to when Robin no longer had to prepare for her concert and they could have lunch together again in their little corner of the cafeteria.

        The scent of weed and cigarettes permeated the atmosphere as Amara nibbled at her tuna sandwich, Fleetwood Mac's Dreams blasting from her walkman. She was long past her one-hour stint of pretending to be someone she wasn't at a party she didn't want to be at, but that didn't automatically mean she was ready to make her presence known. She was already one of few people who liked school because they enjoyed academics, not because of the parties and drama that resulted from swathes of insecure teenagers existing in the same setting, people still figuring out who they wanted to be compelled into situations that would make them popular and socially accepted but not happy.

        But no matter the person she chose to be, Amara would never feel accepted. Because she was born the way she was.

        History was Amara's final period before she was granted two days of solitude where she could indulge in the roughened pages of Neuromancer without trepidation that someone would stereotype her as a nerd, let alone deduce that she was diagnosed with what many believed to be schizophrenia. But until then, she had to undergo one more hour of chaos. Their teacher had departed school early in response to a medical issue and had left a message on the blackboard instructing the class to continue with their group projects, which when coupled with no substitute teacher was the perfect excuse for everyone to horse around for an hour.

        Attempting to drown out the collective noise of her peers' voices, Amara fished out the guidelines for the assignment. Jonathan was absent again much to her frustration, but Amara decided to make good use of her time and chip away at it until he got back from wherever he was. She flipped through her notebook for history until she landed on her most recent notes pertaining to the stock market crash of 1929.

        "Damn, is Byers not here again?"

        It was rare for someone who didn't know Amara to acknowledge her other than excusing themselves or asking her to pass something to them, but she nevertheless looked to her left. The girl who had addressed her was a cheerleader, as evidenced by her green, white, and yellow uniform, with ebony strands secured in a half up/half down do with a periwinkle scrunchie and smooth sepia skin. She was polished and pristine, the epitome of what people envisioned a high school girl to be. Amara couldn't help but feel intimidated, but as someone who had been judged for being different her whole life, she was in no position to assume anything about this girl based on her outward appearance.

        "Yeah, I'm wondering if he broke his phone 'cause he isn't answering my calls," Amara replied, shrugging her shoulders as she jotted down more information about inflation in the 1920s. "I mean, if it's a family issue I'd understand, but he could at least tell me."

        "Doubt it. I saw him ditch with Wheeler after lunch yesterday," the girl informed Amara, whose eyes widened. "Yeah, I know, right? Wheeler's my partner so I thought I'd have this in the bag but now I have to complete it on my own."

        Amara wasn't the closest with Nancy, but she knew her well enough to grasp that she wouldn't skip school unless she had good reason to. As for Jonathan being involved, she understood that his biggest priority had always been looking after Will, especially after nearly losing him last year. Something had compelled Nancy and Jonathan to leave behind their academia and family, and while Amara was sure they weren't skipping school just to run off together, she knew without a doubt that it would throw a major wrench in Steve's longing to rekindle his relationship with Nancy.

        "Well, looks like we're in the same boat," Amara muttered, crafting an outline on a new page in her notebook. "It's nice to know I'm not the only one stuck doing this alone."

        "I'm Shaelynn, by the way," the cheerleader smiled warmly. "Shaelynn Campbell."

        "Amara," said girl responded, beaming in return.

        She continued working for the next forty-five minutes until the bell rang for the last time that week. She was quick to leave the classroom and head to her locker, where she promptly gathered her backpack and every textbook she would need for the weekend. Students of all grades were streaming outdoors; Amara wondered if like her, they also craved two days where they could be free to be who they were and not what society wanted them to be, or if they were just happy to escape the confines of school.

        "Amara?"

        The girl in question shifted to face Steve. Based on his dismal expression he had received word that his ex-girlfriend had skipped school with the boy he believed loved her as well, which made her confused as to why he was there.

        "Oh! Hey, Steve," Amara greeted, swinging her backpack over her shoulders. "Everything okay?"

        "Yeah, everything's fine," Steve replied, grinning. It didn't meet his eyes. "I think I'm ready to apologize to Nancy. If she'll be home by tonight, that is."

        "Okay," Amara nodded slowly, fidgeting with the straps of her backpack. "Just remember what I told you and you'll be good to go."

        "Actually, I need help with one thing," Steve requested, not missing how Amara appeared to become more alert in response. "I don't know what flowers I should get her. I was thinking roses but there's a chance she might think they're cliché or something."

        Amara weighed her options. Robin would be staying after school again, she had a four-page report due in less than a week and her partner had disappeared off the grid, and despite her conversation with Robin the previous day she still felt torn between remaining in her little bubble that guaranteed her near anonymity but minimal friends, or endeavoring making new friends only to face the treatment she had successfully avoided since moving to Hawkins. Helping Steve with his problems wouldn't make hers go away, but it would solve his and that was what mattered to Amara.

        "I'd love to help," Amara responded. "You can pick me up at my house in half an hour."

        With her address written down on a slip of paper and handed to Steve and Robin agreeing to hitch a ride home with one of her bandmates, Amara was once again numbing her pain by helping someone else through their own issues. But what she didn't know was that Steve had taken notice of how eager she was to help him, for he was also prone to running away from his problems until they came back to haunt him.

"YOU'RE HOME EARLY!" Eurydice commented as soon as Amara crossed the threshold of the doorway at half-past three. "How's Robin doing?"

        "She's great. Busy with band practice," Amara answered. She quickly hugged her mother and unhooked her backpack from her shoulders, hanging it on the rack in the front hall. "I offered to help someone with homework and she didn't want to leave me waiting."

        "Who are you helping out?" Eurydice inquired, ever the curious mother.

        "Oh, just Steve," Amara replied, plonking herself in one of the chairs at the kitchen table and hoping Eurydice was done asking questions. However, she knew her mother well enough to know that she wasn't.

        "Steve, as in Steve Harrington?" Eurydice prodded, raising an eyebrow. "Nancy's boyfriend?"

        "Yeah, why?"

        "I just didn't realize you two knew each other," Eurydice clarified. To Amara's relief, she beamed. "Look at me, I'm losing track of how many friends you have."

        "Oh, we're not friends. We just know each other through Nancy," Amara rushed to explain, leaving out the fact that they were in communication because of Nancy. "She's sick so he needs my help writing his college application."

        Amara wasn't sure why she was lying to Eurydice when she could have easily said, Nancy and Steve broke up and Steve asked for my help to get her back. She just had a sneaking suspicion that if she told her mother the truth, that she was helping Steve fix things with Nancy, she would question why Amara was involving herself in his personal life and in turn ask if she was okay. And she was not in the mood to talk about her feelings.

        And it wasn't as if Eurydice didn't have her inclinations of what Amara was going through, especially when she returned home late at night on the 31st of October, dodging questions about Tina's party. Eurydice knew better than anyone that her daughter was conflicted about playing it safe or taking a risk, but as much as she tried to empathize with Amara she would never be her. She never knew what it was like to be discriminated against because of who she was.

        "Okay, well I hope everything goes well and that Nancy feels better soon," Eurydice responded. "Steve's in good hands, you're a great writer."

        The aforementioned boy arrived a few minutes later, and Amara bid Eurydice goodbye before heading out. Steve's polished BMW was a stark contrast to her Honda, which her parents had purchased from a used car shop. It reminded her yet again of just how well-off Steve was, but Amara knew that money couldn't make up for aloof parents or past trauma.

        Amara greeted Steve and slid into the passenger seat, and he pulled out of the driveway and onto the road. The sun was still high enough in the sky that it cast a glare through the windshield and Amara had to squint her eyes. She wondered of the last time someone other than Nancy had accompanied Steve in his car.

        "Is it okay if I turn on the radio?" Amara asked tentatively, slightly uncomfortable from the silence. Steve nodded, giving Amara permission to do so. Love Will Tear Us Apart by Joy Division was what greeted their ears, and Steve felt his sour mood worsen.

        "Yeah, this song is just what I needed," Steve's voice was laced with sarcasm. "It's like Ian Curtis can read my mind!"

        "Sorry," Amara apologized, hastily changing the station to one that was playing Hotel California by the Eagles. "Better?"

        "Definitely," Steve replied with a hint of a grin. He continued down the winding road, breezing past picture-perfect suburban houses with white picket fences and nuclear families. Amara's house didn't have a white picket fence or a well-kept lawn, nor did it house a normal family. It was far from the nicest house in Hawkins but it felt like a home, and that's what mattered to her the most.

        Steve only slowed the car down when they reached the edge of Lover's Lake. They were well outside the urban part of Hawkins, the only buildings in sight being people's houses. The sun transformed the water from a dark murky color to a dazzling blue the same shade as the sky. Amara had always loved everything about nature; cloudless skies, Autumn leaves, the gentle sway of trees from the wind, and starlit heavens. She appreciated how everything in the natural world existed in a delicate balance. The downside was that humanity's existence alone disrupted that balance.

        "I don't see any flower shops around here," Amara commented when Steve put the car in park, shutting off the music. "Unless you were thinking of picking some, but it's the wrong season – "

        "Amara," Steve interrupted, his tone firm and unyielding. "What's going on with you? How are you feeling?"

        Amara blanched, for that had been the last thing she'd expected him to say. "I – what?"

        "I'm not an idiot, y'know?" Steve sounded angry, but not at Amara. She was the last person in the world he was angry with. "When you offered me advice, I was so caught up in everything with Nancy that I didn't stop and think about how you were feeling. And you basically jumped at the opportunity to help me, as if it would stop me from noticing something was wrong. But helping me with Nancy isn't going to solve whatever's going on with you."

        "Steve," Amara was quickly growing defensive, wishing she'd told him to buy the damn flowers on his own. "What do you mean? Nothing's wrong. I'm fine."

        "Bullshit."

        "Okay, yes – something is going on," Amara confessed, her hands clammy. "But I already talked with a friend about it. We figured it out. I'm good."

        "If you were really fine you wouldn't be here right now," Steve stated, doing his best to soften his tone. "You would've told me what flowers to get on my own, but you're here with me and I'm not going to let you run away from your problems because I have and they always come back at the worst possible time."

        Crap, Amara was crying now. She turned her head before Steve could notice but he was already handing her a tissue. She messily wiped away her tears, wishing she hadn't underestimated how perceptive Steve was. He was the person she least expected to realize that something was wrong, and yet he had bested her own mother at unraveling her. And he was right; Amara thought she had told Robin everything going on with her, but she had neglected to mention the guilt that threatened to consume her when she occasionally wished the world was still ending if it meant she could be of use.

        "I'm sorry," she choked out, her eyes red-rimmed and still brimming with tears. "I can't explain it, I just... "

        "Is it about the Upside Down?" Steve guessed, silently daring Amara to tell the truth. It was enough for her to cave without revealing that she had autism.

        "No, it's literally the opposite of the Upside Down," she rebuked, and Steve's face scrunched up in confusion. "I'm a nobody, okay? You probably didn't know I even existed until last year. I still don't know who I am or what I want to do with my life – but then Will disappeared and it was like I was finally needed for something, like I was more than just a nobody. And now everything's back to normal and I'm just that girl people cheat off of during a math test. The only time I felt useful was when the world was ending."

        She paused to steady her breathing, which had become increasingly erratic. She could feel Steve's gaze burning into the side of her head but didn't dare look in his direction, fearing that she'd delved too far.

        "I know what you mean," Steve finally spoke, shifting his gaze to the windshield. "I've been a jerk for so long and everything last year made me realize that popularity doesn't mean jack shit when there's a faceless monster that wants to kill you. For one moment I felt like I was more than just the disappointment I know my dad thinks of me as. And I tried to become a better person, but it wasn't enough. It was never enough."

        Amara peeked at Steve out of the corner of her eye. When he had approached her after his breakup with Nancy the previous day the exterior he wore to shield his emotions had been partially cracked, exposing a sliver of susceptibility. But in her peripheral vision, she didn't think he'd ever looked more vulnerable than at that moment.

        "I still keep that bat in my trunk, like I'm hoping I'll have a reason to use it again," Steve continued. "For one goddamn second I felt like a hero but I can't even tell my asshole of a dad that. I have to listen to him rant about how disappointed he is in my grades when I just want him to see that I've been trying. This whole thing with Nancy just made everything worse."

        He too finished speaking and Amara felt like she could actually see him. Not the boy with the perfect hair and easy smile, but Steve. He was lost and broken and Nancy's exit from his life had made him feel as though ending his friendship with Carol and Tommy and making an effort to become a better person had gained him nothing. No wonder he had noticed something was bothering Amara when he too had been bottling up his emotions for years.

        "I didn't realize you felt that way," Amara whispered. She had ceased crying but her eyes were still bloodshot.

        "Yeah, and I didn't know what you were going through," Steve tossed back. "That's what happens when you ignore your problems instead of solving them. It's not fair of me to ask for your help regarding Nancy and not help you in return."

        "I guess you're right," Amara cracked a smile, but she didn't dare tell him the full truth – that she was only a nobody because she chose to be one. Because in her mind, being invisible was far better than the bullying she had endured growing up. Her involvement in finding Will was only because she had let her curiosity get to the better of her when she'd seen the Demogorgon in the middle of the road, and she had been lucky enough to be alongside people who were also considered outcasts by society, people who made her feel as though her quirkiness was a gift rather than the curse she had always viewed it as. The only difference was that any of them could decide to abandon the hobbies they loved for the sake of fitting in, and they would have no trouble finding a place within the popular crowd.

        Even amongst a group of pariahs, Amara would always be the most peculiar one.

        "If it's any consolation, I see the real you," Steve broke through Amara's train of thought. "Not that girl people take advantage of during a test, but a crowbar-wielding badass."

        Amara giggled, and Steve smiled at the fact that he was able to make her feel just a fraction better. The sun was beginning to inch towards the horizon, bathing the landscape in a heavenly glow yet also spurring Amara to redirect her sun visor to face the passenger window.

        "I keep that crowbar as well. Under my bed," Amara admitted. "And I see the real you, too. You're a good person, Steve, no matter what your dad tells you."

        "Thank you," Steve articulated quietly. "I really needed to hear that."

        They lapsed into a standstill in which they held eye contact and matching smiles of relief. It wasn't a tense moment from the shitty romance novels Amara had been assigned to read in English where two people stared at each other until one of them mustered the courage to act on their feelings of attraction, but rather one where they developed a mutual understanding of one another and evolved into unlikely friends.

        And yet, Amara still couldn't let go of the fact that Steve had originally requested her assistance in picking out flowers for Nancy.

        "Is it okay if I still offer you advice on what flowers to buy?" she interrogated. "It's getting late."

        Steve sighed in what Amara assumed to be frustration, and she regretted asking the question. "Sure, but you're not going with me. I'm driving you home first."

        "Deal."

        The drive back to Amara's house was silent as neither she nor Steve felt the need for music, but this time the quiet was comforting. They didn't need to fill the void with conversation, for opening up to one another had been more than enough. For once, Amara wasn't numbing her pain by helping someone else; she was learning to trust others after years of guarding herself against vulnerability, which in turn enabled her to help Steve through more than just his troubles with Nancy.

        The first stars were beginning to emerge against the indigo sky when Steve reached Amara's house. Checking her watch, Amara found that it was nearing 4:30; they had been out for almost an hour.

        Amara was the one to break the silence. "So if you don't know Nancy's favorite flowers, I recommend apology flowers. It could be roses, but my brother once gave his high school girlfriend lilies of the valley when he needed to apologize."

        "Duly noted," Steve replied. He then faced her, his brown eyes soft. "Hey, if everything works out with Nancy, maybe we could still hang out afterward? We don't just have to talk to each other when we're going through shit."

        Amara beamed. "I like the sound of that."

        She made to exit the car, but paused. Before Amara could second-guess her decision she was reaching over the center console and flinging her arms around Steve's shoulders. The aforementioned boy tensed at first but quickly reciprocated, embracing her petite waist. This time, she truly felt like she was making progress now that she had another person other than Robin to confide in, someone who empathized with her because he was also unsure of who he wanted to be. It meant more to Amara than she could ever say.

        "Thank you," she whispered as she pulled away, one hand reaching to open the door.

        "Anytime," Steve assured her. "I'll let you know how it goes with Nancy."

        Amara waved at him a final time as he backed out of the driveway. She waited until he was out of sight before retreating to her house, prepared to distort the truth again to Eurydice. But she couldn't feel guilty after what Steve had done for her.

        Eurydice was in the living room, busying herself with A Rose in Winter. Their favorite genre of books was yet another juxtaposition between the two of them; while Eurydice had always loved romance novels and historical fiction, Amara enjoyed everything related to science fiction and fantasy. Eurydice was the past and Amara was the future.

        "Hey, sweetie!" Eurydice glanced up from her book long enough to catch Amara lingering in the doorway connecting the living room to the kitchen. "How'd it go with Steve?"

        "It was great!" Amara informed Eurydice. While she was lying about helping Steve with his college essay, it was easy to sell because she didn't need to adopt an ingenuine facial expression. "I was able to help him write his thesis and flesh out an outline for the body paragraphs. He should be able to finish it on his own."

        Eurydice smiled. "That's good!"

"THIS IS BAD," Dustin proclaimed, not for the first time that evening. "This is really, really bad."

        Night had fallen but Dustin Henderson had never been more awake as he paced the perimeter of his driveway, uttering every curse word imaginable in the English language. The creature he had believed to be adorable and fascinating only two days ago had made a meal of his cat and escaped to God knows where, and the same friends who had warned him of how dangerous said creature was were unreachable. The only available person was Steve Harrington of all people, who he had crossed paths with at Mike's house when the latter had been looking to apologize to Nancy.

        "Dude, will you stop already?" Steve called from where he was leaning against the door to Dustin's house, twirling his nail-studded bat in his fingers. "Pacing isn't going to stop this thing from killing someone else."

        "Do you have a better idea?" Dustin retorted, reaching into Steve's car and fishing out the bouquet of roses and lilies of the valley, the apology flowers the florist advised him to buy for Nancy. He hurled the flowers into the woods, causing Steve to roll his eyes. "Dart is on the loose and nobody is responding right now!"

        "Well, looks like we'll have to spend our weekend killing this thing," Steve responded. He was still processing just how quickly things had shifted in a matter of hours; one moment he was coaching himself on what to say to Nancy when she asked why he was there, and the next he was being called upon as the only available person to kill a monster similar to the one he had helped vanquish last year. And on top of that, Nancy hadn't been home. "We can trap it, just like last year. You got any more raw meat?"

        "Plenty," Dustin informed Steve, thinking clearer now that Steve had an idea of how to kill the monster he had originally been so fond of. "We can lure him somewhere where there'll be no casualties, like the old junkyard. First thing tomorrow morning."

        "Sounds like a plan," Steve nodded. Fighting a monster from an alternate dimension again wasn't what he had in mind for the weekend, but anything was better than sulking over the fact that there was no hope left for him to win back Nancy. "Are you sure you can't reach anyone?"

        "I'm positive," Dustin answered, unhooking his headset from around his ears in defeat. "Unless you can think of someone, we're on our own."

        There was in fact someone who immediately rose to the forefront of Steve's mind. Someone who had revealed to him mere hours ago how she had only felt needed when she had assisted in finding Will before it was too late. Someone who was still figuring out her identity in a world that forced people into boxes long before they knew who they wanted to be. Someone who just so happened to be in town at the moment. Even though Amara's advice hadn't been enough as Nancy hadn't been there to listen to his apology, Steve owed it to her to inform her of the situation if it would make her feel like more than a nobody again.

        "Can you let me borrow your phone?"

published to quotev: 8/4/22
published to wattpad: 7/24/24

AUTHOR'S NOTE

so i know that the junkyard fight technically took place on sunday november 4th 1984, but i changed it to the day before because it makes more sense in the context of this plot. also, y'all got to meet shaelynn campbell! she's robin's future girlfriend because i refuse to end this story without my baby robin ending up happy with someone. she doesn't have much of a role until season 4 but i am so excited to include her in enigma!

hope you're all having a lovely day/afternoon/evening/night!

love, lydia