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❛ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴄᴋᴇᴅ​​​​​​​​​​. ❜ ° . ༄
- ͙۪۪˚   ▎❛ 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄 ❜   ▎˚ ͙۪۪̥◌
»»————- ꒰ ʜɪᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ
ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴇsᴛ sʜᴏᴛ ꒱


❝ YOU'RE A REAL TOUGH
COOKIE WITH A LONG HISTORY ❞

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It was now Max's turn to be embarrassed after an emotional outburst. With all of her wonderful people skills, Jessie had merely (and oh-so-eloquently) replied "huh." The redhead purposefully avoided her gaze after that but thankfully, they arrived at their destination not long after.

"So much for avoiding angry hicks," Robin observed as they entered the warehouse.

"Let's be. . . fast," Nancy said. Her words were met with agreement, though Jessie let out an aw of disappointment instead. Her eyes gleamed with enthusiasm at the sight of so many explosives.

They split up to more easily cover the store and the brunette put on a spurt of speed with the hopes of covering the most ground. As much as she hated running, a store like this was worth the discomfort. She first went to the section where copies of her pistol was sold and began to put ammo into the basket that hung on her arm. Then she made sure to get rope, bandages, a Swiss Army Knife (she had one but the blade was probably blunt from the many times she'd used it) and finally, a restock on her grenade supply.

She was faintly surprised that they'd just been out in the open like that— it seemed like a disaster waiting to happen, especially with the gasoline cans— but it made for easy access. As she picked up one of the familiar spheres, her mind went back to the last (and only) time she'd used it: hanging upside-down from the Mind Flayer's tentacle? Arm? Appendage?

A hand landed on her shoulder, causing her to jump. It belonged to an older teen boy who was wearing a green letterman jacket. He gave her a smile that held no friendliness— it was all shining white teeth and menace. "You're one of Sinclair's friends, aren't you?"

She gave him an unimpressed look. "Hardly. Don't you know about our famous rivalry? You must not have your thumb on the heartbeat of the school's gossip like you think you do."

"I don't waste my time with gossip. What do you think I am, some—" Here, he used a word that would not be considered politically correct in most circles. "—like you?"

Jessie's expression remained unchanged. "You know I'm holding a grenade, right? I'm not afraid to send myself to an early grave if I take a few bigots out on my way. I gotta make my death mean something, yeah?"

The teen— she didn't have the slightest clue who he was apart from his jacket and the whiteness of his skin tone— let out a scolding noise. "You really aren't very smart, are you? Threatening your Senior isn't going to end well for you."

"Threatening someone who's got nothing to lose isn't going to end well for you," she retorted coolly. "I suggest you take your hand off of me before you're a hand short."

"That's cute," he said in return, though his tone suggested that he clearly didn't think so. "My friends and I have been itching to have a go at you, by the way," he informed her conversationally. "The town pariah. I think we'd be doing a public service by getting rid of a kid that no one wants. Maybe I'll even get a plaque in the town square."

The brunette was relieved that her newfound fear hadn't made an appearance. It was probably because teenage boys were easier to take out than interdimensional monsters who were targeting her (ex?)girlfriend, but she was glad for whatever the reason was. Her tone remained entirely calm as she replied, "I'm surprised that you even know a word like pariah. I suppose that you might've learned it by overhearing it being used. I thought the only thing that went on in jock's heads were basketball stats and girls' phone numbers— though the latter is true for me as well."

The boy's eyes narrowed with distaste. "You talk a big game because we're in a store full of people with ammo all around. How big of a man would you be if we faced off one-on-one?"

"First of all," she corrected him evenly, "I'm a woman, not a man. You should probably get your eyes checked if you couldn't see the obvious difference. Second of all, I would never take those chances. You belong to a group of people who don't know what the words fair fight mean."

"So you're a coward?" he guessed smugly. "Figures. You don't have the balls to—"

"I've got plenty of balls— maybe even more than you," Jessie cut across him. His expression became slightly confused at her comeback. "In fact, you still haven't unhanded me. It's time to face the consequences." She reached into her basket and pulled out the Swiss Army Knife. She flipped it open— except it was the bottle opener. When she tried again, she got the pliers. "Hold on, one of these is the right one."

After several more tries, she finally got to the blade. The teen didn't appear to be too put off by it. "You're going to cut off my hand with that?"

"Change of plans," she announced cheerfully. "I'm gonna stab you instead."

He stared at her. "You really are insane."

"What, that surprises you? All rumors are based on truth." The brunette shrugged. Then, without hesitation, she angled the blade in the intended direction and brought her hand down— hard— on his wrist. The silver sunk into his flesh effortlessly and he let out a cry of pain. Finally he released her and she looked at the knife for a second. "Pity I won't be able to buy that."

Nancy had a similar— though less violent— altercation with the leader of the jocks (Jessie still didn't know who anyone was.) As they escaped in their stolen trailer, they passed the jacket-wearing boys. Jessie pressed her face to the window and stuck her middle fingers up at them triumphantly.

・。.・゜✫・.・✫・゜・。.

When they arrived to the middle of nowhere, the group fanned out and began to work on their individual projects. Jessie searched the trailer for empty bottles and found quite the stash under one of the seats. She made several trips to set them up far away from everyone else before she loaded her pistol for target practice.

Unbeknownst to her, Max watched her from afar as she sat with Nancy, who was making adjustments to the gun she'd bought. Her gaze was trained on the brunette who conquered each of the bottles with deadly-serious focus rather than her usual lightheartedness. "I didn't know that J.J. was such a good shot," she remarked.

The older teen smirked slightly. "You mean me, right?"

The question made the redhead jerk out of her daze. "Y-yes. Yes, of course that's what I meant."

"You definitely said J.J.," Nancy told her in a pleased sort of way. "What's with you two, anyway?"

"Nothing," Max said. That was technically the truth, after all.

"Right," she agreed in a disbelieving tone. "I saw you two talking on the way to the Army Warehouse. It seemed pretty serious."

The other girl shrugged. "Well, J.J.'s not big on emotional confessions. I mean, I'm not either but at least I can acknowledge my feelings. The most I can get out of her is one-word answers."

"Maybe she doesn't know how," the brunette suggested. "From what I know of her, anyway, she seems like the type to bottle up her emotions because she's not used to having someone to rely on. I've only learned bits and pieces from Mike's rants but until she met my brother and his friends, I don't think she had anyone."

"I know," she agreed softly. "J.J. is a person of action rather than heart-to-hearts— it's one of the reasons why I like her so much. That's, um, something I wanted to talk to you about, actually. I want you to take her into the Upside-Down."

That made Nancy turn to her with surprise. "What?"

Max's gaze stayed on the girl in the distance. "Whatever happens to me. . . I don't want her to be there to see it. Harrington will probably be against it but I know that she'll feel better knowing that she did everything possible to act."

"Are you sure?" the older girl asked. "You don't want her with you in case. . . you need help?"

The red-haired girl shook her head. "It'll be better this way. If. . . things don't work out, I don't. . . I don't want her to be there if I die. Maybe I'm being selfish but I think she'd prefer the adventure anyway. She's always been the first to head into the unknown."

・。.・゜✫・.・✫・゜・。.

The occupants of the trailer sat in a heavy silence as they drove to the Creel House. There was an air of foreboding that hung around them and was impossible to break, even with music. Jessie and Max sat next to each other at the table. The brunette's words rang in Max's ears from her most recent argument with Steve: "like hell I'm going to be left behind to sit in some musty-ass attic while my girlfriend puts herself at risk!"

Eventually, Jessie had won (thanks to Nancy's unexpected agreement), but the word girlfriend repeated itself over and over in the Max's head. Maybe it had just been a slip of her tongue in the heat of the moment but Max couldn't help but hope that maybe it wasn't. They were, after all, holding hands, which were clasped together on top of the table. (Lucas had suspiciously kept his distance and sat in the back, though neither girl made mention of it.)

As they drew nearer to their first destination, the brunette turned away from the window to look at Max. After she'd lowered her headphones to her neck, Jessie gave her a dashing smile. "How about another happy memory for the road, huh?"

The redhead's brows furrowed with confusion. "What?"

She shrugged. "Y'know, for when you need to run to the light. Maybe we need to make another happy memory right now so you have immediate access to one."

An understanding expression appeared on her face. "And how do you suggest we do that?"

"Like this," Jessie answered simply. She lifted her free hand to rest it gently against Max's cheek. The girl's blue eyes widened with surprise but (thankfully) she didn't pull away. With only a moment's pause, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to the redhead's, heedless of their friends' presence around them.