THE GIRL WEARING THE MASK.

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

MAGNETS (book one).
°• CHAPTER ONE •°

" US GIRLS GOTTA STICK
TOGETHER. "

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

DYLAN HARGROVE FELT LIKE A SHADOW - and it started when she was never even wanted. Everyone she was supposed to love and be loved by left her in the dark to fend for herself. Neil Hargrove made a drunken mistake the night of 1966. His wife's emotions have skyrocketed with her pregnancy, and in a fit of anger, he left for a bar instead of smacking her across the room. There he met Chloe Tolbert and, well... Take a guess. That little "drunken mistake" was actually a baby girl with sweet green eyes and light, curly hair who never wept, never screamed for attention even when this caused problems for two pregnant women and a man with anger issues with the tendency to beat people when he didn't get his way. And boy, did this bring more problems than anyone should handle in the future.

Things were fine for awhile, when it was only Dylan and her mother. The occasional visit from her father was bearable. But she was only thirteen when her mother died.

It wasn't long before Neil was granted full custody and she was welcomed into his small family who didn't exactly roll out the welcoming wagon. It was no secret she had a lot in common with her half elder brother. They were both full of confidence that was clear in every forceful step they took. Green eyes that glimmer with mischief, sharp jawlines that sculpt into high cheekbones which then curve perfectly into their chins, and there hasn't been a single adult they came across that hadn't mistaken them for twins despite their different mothers. Dylan was always the second Hargrove or the Hargrove girl when Billy was mentioned. He practically owned their hometown in California and she was positive Hawkins, Indiana would be no different when they made the move.

But that was where their similarities ended. Dylan had so, so much more to give than Billy. She hadn't felt like a shadow until the last time she saw her mother. The woman who was always an angel in Dylan's eyes had vanished into the cloud her daughter had her head in, leaving nothing but a memory, after spending forever trying to convince her how much more she was. Dylan Hargrove was more than a shadow for Billy. She was an incredible force to never dare reckon with, but this was not where her strengths could end. She radiated with generosity, compassion, few things Billy could never understand.

The Hargrove siblings couldn't have been further from one another even when Billy was driving recklessly and Dylan was buckled in the passenger seat beside him. She could see the crimson hair belonging to Max, their younger stepsister, who was drumming her fingers against her denim covered thigh in the review mirror when she glances up. Max doesn't meet Dylan's eye. The girl is dead silent and refuses to cast a glance their way. Max has expressed her emotions and words in fury since the day Neil Hargrove announced their departure. Dylan doesn't expect she'd have anything to say to her during their drive to their new school.

Other eyes, however, follow the piercing squeal of the tires as Billy takes a sharp turn into the parking lot. He sure treated the Camaro like shit despite how much he claimed to cherish it. Dylan winces at the sound but easily composes herself as she's done so many times when she sees the crowd of students watching. Their interest peaks at the CALIFORNIA license plate but escalates when Billy shuts the engine off and makes his grand entrance with a single black boot that smacks against the concrete. Dylan breathes in so deeply that it leaves an ache in her chest before she plasters a smile on her lips, unbuckles, and pushes the car door open. It clicks shut and locks afterward.

The smell of smoke from Billy's cigarette lingers and burns Dylan's nostrils. She's always hated the rancid scent. It followed wherever Billy went and the second she inhales the air that reeks like an ashtray, she knows her elder brother is near. It almost causes her to shudder. Dylan conceals it by brushing her curled, honey-colored hair over her shoulder and pulls the strap of her army green Jansport backpack over the same shoulder. She has grown accustomed to the interest others had from a Hargrove's impact.

Max is gone the second the Hargrove siblings left the car. Dylan watches as her younger stepsister throws her skateboard on the pavement and hops over it, kicking her other leg free to propel her free, away from them. Dylan frowns. A part of her wishes she had some kind of relationship with Max. She saw how she was a sweet kid under all of that anger, but she hated everyone who had the surname Hargrove with a burning passion. The other part of Dylan didn't blame her when she somedays did too.

"Hey," Billy speaks. His voice is deep, but still like razor blades that slide through the air, sharp enough to make Dylan's ears bleed and force her to conceal another wince without casting a look towards him. She knows Billy's talking to her. The words are too quiet to reach anyone else. "Tell that little shit she has two minutes after the last bell rings unless she wants to skate home. Same goes for you."

He flicks the butt of his cigarette while it's still lit into a bundle of grass as soon as the last word passes his lips. Dylan's smile twitches into a frown. "Smash out your fucking cigarette before you throw it, dick for brains," she spits back as she storms past the curve of the car. The sole of Dylan's beat-up sneaker smashes into the ash of the cigarette that started to smoke across the grass blades. She grinds into it until it's smashed and a part of the soil.

Anyone who may have been watching wouldn't have seen a brother and sister fighting. Dylan had spat out the words with such coldness she shouldn't have been smiling, but instead had a wide one painted across her pink lips. The corner of Billy's lip had been curled into half of a smirk and yet, Dylan suspected it wasn't a show. He found joy in pressing her buttons. This was what they wanted, though. They wanted an audience to think their little Hargrove family was perfect, smooth as silk, someone they couldn't break.

It has no effect on Billy. It never did. And it hurts that everything Dylan says just slides off him. She's only useful when he needs something, otherwise, she's a mere shadow in his eyes. Then again, her usefulness to Billy was always outlived as were her words. Dylan was long used to it by now yet still made every attempt to try again and again. She had been desperate far too long for something to give and burn their bridges.

Dylan Hargrove tried to pretend she was so much more than that. She was about to place the same mask her half-brother wore on her face, a platinum smile that could blink anyone staring, green eyes holding mystery that would make others want to ask more, confidence with every step, but before she can, a flash appears out of the corner of her eye. Dylan froze. She looks away from Billy walking towards the school to scan the parking lot and wonders if he noticed it too. If he had, he didn't stop. Everything else seemed to be normal. The world continued to turn.

She tells herself it was just a glimmer of the sun. The sun, that Dylan missed so much. It seemed to barely cover Hawkins. There wasn't even enough to feel the warmth. She clearly chose the wrong outfit for today. She huffs when there's a second of relief before pulling the mask over her face. Hawkins may not have much sunlight and what little there was could be covered by Billy, but Dylan could shine with the power of a thousand suns if she ever found the way out of her brother's shadow.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Indiana high school sucked no more than California's did. They were pretty equal on the scale. Dylan struggles to fit herself in all the same. She had sat for every class at a wooden desk with her toned legs crossed, the rims of her denim shorts hiking up her thigh, arms crossed over her chest, and every word the teacher supplies passing through one ear after the other. Most of this shit she already knew. School, grades - they never were Dylan's favorite thing. But she gave it her all. She loved other things that seemed more important.

Dylan ate her lunch outside. Money had been tight since they moved. Actually, it was always a struggle to gather. Bills and rent came first, not something from the cafeteria that cost an arm and a leg. She didn't have the luxury of school lunches and often settled for a brown paper bag consisting of whatever she could find. It was often something cheap and easy to spare like a bag of chips, maybe a snack, bottled water, and a peanut butter sandwich. Dylan stopped bothering to make an additional one for Billy when he left them rotting in the fridge. Max, however, still thought it was her mother packing her lunch. She barely blinked when she'd swiped it off the kitchen counter and stormed out of the house while Dylan would clean the peanut butter off the knife she used.

Indiana's weather during the fall was mostly expected and Dylan's especially pissed at herself that's she so used to California weather she didn't think to bring a jacket that could've covered the perfectly prominent wet spot on her shorts when she spills her water. She stands in the grass so fast she almost slips in the mud and wraps the jacket around her waist. It perfectly covers the spot, but Dylan still hightails it to the closest woman's bathroom.

If everything starts from somewhere, Dylan would later pinpoint it to this exact moment.

Maybe things would've been different in another life, with other choices Dylan could've made. She would force herself into the position of being the perfect daughter Neil always wanted, uttering yes sir, no sir, crossing her legs when wearing a skirt, marrying some rich man to bear his children, and being some trophy wife. Well, these weren't things Dylan wanted. She wasn't built to be a man's caretaker. She has a foul mouth more women should carry, she talks back, and she doesn't listen. And that was her problem.

She also would have been completely clueless about the stranger things that happened in Hawkins.

The toilet in the girl's bathroom sucks. It's too thin, papery, and practically crumbles as Dylan tries to rub it into the wet spot. Her face twists in annoyance. It's so prominent and clear in the denim it looks as if she wet herself. Dylan Hargrove does not get embarrassed, not by anything, but the way her cheeks are already tinting pink tells a slightly different story.

She can already hear the voices of the male Hargroves in her head. Dylan's flush deepens but this time with anger. Such a screw-up. You can't do anything right. Clumsiness isn't proper in a lady. You're frustrated for what? It's not ladylike. Get it together, Dylan.

Dylan only hangs onto the last few words. She repeats it like a mantra - get it together, Dylan. Get it together, Dylan. Get it together, Dylan. Until eventually the voice fades from her father into her own and she can believe it for herself. Dylan fills her lungs with a deep breath that allows her anxiety to flow out of her system, crumples the damp toilet paper into a ball, tosses it in the toilet, and flushes. The metal stall door creaks as Dylan switches the lock and pushes it open. It softly makes a quiet smack as it hits the exterior again when she swung it shut behind her.

Of course, spilling her drink on her pants was where Dylan may have screwed up her life (or made it better, possibly, with what comes). Yeah. Things can only go up from where she was.

A girl was at the sink washing her hands. Dylan quickly takes a glimpse in the wide mirror. She must have missed her when she came dashing in. She's pretty, her Asian heritage evident in her eyes, with raven black hair, pulled into a high ponytail held together by a bright orange scrunchie that stands out compared to the dark, rumpled clothing she tugged on. Dylan tries to avoid her gaze as she picks the sink to her left and prays the wet spot in her denim wasn't noticeable, that she'd be left alone.

She must not have prayed hard enough.

"Dylan Hargrove," the girl says with a forceful, emphasis on her surname. Dylan wasn't too surprised the other knew her name. She was one of the three new kids in a small, hick town. Plus her reputation must precede her. The stranger's eyes glimmer with joy as her cheeks fills with a grin. "Rough first day, sweetheart?"

Her words caught Dylan off guard. She quickly washes the last of the suds under the stream of water before ripping off a rumpled paper towel from the roll. "Excuse me?" She asks with her eyebrows raised to her hairline.

"Hey, I get it. Being new can be scary." The other shrugs. "No biggie."

Dylan has to force her system to fight off the blush crawling to her cheeks at what she was hinting at. God, did it really look like she wet her pants? She hates the other's cockiness because she saw it in herself, something easily learned from Billy. She won't allow herself to be flustered with embarrassment or anger. Those feelings were for when she was alone. Just another trait Dylan picked up as a Hargrove.

So she plasters a fake, confident smile on her face. "I'm not that kind of girl, sweetheart," Dylan mimics her tone. "I spilled water. It's on my backpack too."

The girl tilts her head back. She wipes her wet hands on her joggers and unzips the hoodie draped on her shoulders. "Did living in California make you think moving across the country and wearing shorts in this weather was a good idea?" She asks and smirks at the way Dylan's features dropped. "It's fine. Us girls gotta stick together, right?" She thrust the article of clothing in her direction. "Just wrap it around your waist."

The kind gesture completely catches Dylan off guard. She strangely eyes the hoodie as if it would catch into flames at any second until her new... Acquaintance gives it a shake. So many things Billy tried to teach her, to drill in her head. Take what you could even when it wasn't yours. Using people and what they had was fine for a Hargrove. But Dylan felt so incredibly dirty and guilty every time she did even when it was easy to hide. She's done things she's not proud of. But she can't remember the last time someone did something nice without expecting anything in return.

"Um," is about the only word Dylan can utter. She clears her throat and accepts the offer in a way she wishes was more humble. "Thanks, I think. Listen, I... I live on Cherry Road so... Just stop by and I can pay you back with something, okay?" Her tone quickly becomes defensive. "I don't need a freebie - "

A burst of giggles escapes the girl's lips. Dylan immediately stopped. "You don't really think I need something in return? Honey, just wash it and drop it off at my locker tomorrow - number 104." She lightly taps Dylan's frozen shoulder with her knuckles. "I told you girls stick together. Besides, I can tell you're good."

Good. Good was not a word that Dylan would have ever used to describe herself. It wouldn't be in the top hundred of a list if she made it. She doesn't think it'd even make a close number. It was so foreign that it wouldn't cross her mind. A horrible, destructive nature is what formed Dylan's atoms together. But what made her such a deadly force was that no one saw it until it was too late and everything in its path was destroyed. Maybe she even had this girl fooled.

"That's kind of you. Thank you." Dylan smiled again, the sickly sweet one she learned that would've had boys melt under her touch back home. The material under her fingers is a dark, mustard yellow that stands out hideously with her outfit but she still ties a knot with the sleeves around her waist. It perfectly covered the spot. Dylan suddenly glances up when another question hit her. "Hey, how can you just... Tell that I'm good?"

"Because you're a fucking nerd."

Dylan's jaw dropped in offense and she was close to stuttering out a demand to whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean until the other shakes her head with a laugh. "Listen, I didn't expect it from a California girl but I saw you were in my brother's AP Chem class. It's impressive."

"Okay, one, it's not my fault your smalltown isn't caught up to shit I've learned back home, okay? And two, who the hell is your brother?" Dylan interrogates with sudden harshness that was a complete change from her earlier attitude.

"Oh. Yeah, haven't told you my name." She casually flicks her ponytail off her shoulder where it dangled. "Clara Rhee. I'm not as smart as Xavier but he sits next to you, I think."

Dylan deflates a little. Oops. "My bad," she mumbles although it didn't sound much like an apology. It was just another Hargrove trait. Speaking before your mouth could catch up with what your brain wanted to spew. But her brother, Xavier, seemed like a nice kid. He was sitting at Dylan's left if she remembered correctly. He was quiet, kept to himself, wordlessly taking notes and occasionally answering a question, clearly the opposite of his sister - Clara - who was much louder and seemed to speak her mind.

Dylan can't lie. She liked that about her. She didn't beat around the bush but was nice all at the same time.

But Dylan Hargrove was not there to make friends.

"Well, thanks for the jacket." Dylan smiles again and prepares to head for the exit. Lunch was almost over anyway. "I'll see you around."

She barely passes Clara before the girl strikes and suddenly hooked an arm over Dylan's shoulders tight enough that the limb got caught in her curls. "Don't tell me you don't want a first-day buddy," she teases. Clara practically guides Dylan towards the door just as the bell rang, vibrating through the halls, signaling the end of their Lunch period.

"I like your spunk, California. Believe me - in Hawkins, you want a buddy to watch your back."

Clara squeezes Dylan's shoulder as they leave the bathroom together but Dylan is focused much more on the glint hidden in her eye. It was like they were dark windows holding a secret that she had yet to uncover herself. She couldn't help but wonder. Something inside of her was curious in a dangerous way, a way that could throw her in front of a trait. And Dylan didn't want to pull away from it. It drew her in, made her want to stay. She's never had that feeling before.

Another female with bouncy hair and a shiny smile comes bounding up to join Clara's other side, hardly affected when she's sent an awkward smile in return. But Dylan sees it. She can feel the way that Clara's arm stiffens from its position wrapped around her. The presence of their peer must've brought a new wave of anxiety.

It barely crashes over her though as she flashes Dylan a blinding grin. "Hey! It's so, so great to meet you. I'm Tina, I think we have our first-period class together," she introduces.

Dylan blinks. She doesn't recognize the girl at all but still quickly nods. "'Course, hey," she agrees coolly. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to catch you and invite you to my Halloween bash coming up." Tina thrusts one of the orange papers she was fumbling with towards Dylan, so closely she has no choice but to accept it. "If you're available, I'd love to see you there." The invitation has a typical date, time, and address along with a cartoon ghost floating above the words COME AND GET SHEET-FACED! Dylan has to swallow a grimace as she studies the words. She didn't want to go but the girl she was supposed to be, the one that wants to please and sway everyone around her, is begging to do so anyway.

"Sure," Dylan decides, feigning excitement.

Tina bounces on her toes to keep up. "Cool! Hey, Clara, here's one for you too - " She passes another orange-colored sheet that Clara reluctantly takes with her free hand. Her gaze flickers back to Dylan as she finally reveals the only reason she actually approached the girls. "Be sure to bring your brother too!"

Dylan's smile falters. She should've guessed that was coming from the start but since she can't see into the future, she didn't. She's always wanted to believe she was different from her brother, that she could possibly be better than Billy. But Dylan should've known from the start. If the Hargrove siblings could outshine the sun in California, then Hawkins would change nothing. She was forced to be in a pair with him.

"For sure. Billy wouldn't miss a party," Dylan reassures Tina's joy through her gritted teeth, lips pulled into an even tighter smile over them.

She has to wait until Tina bounds away to release the mask on her face. Dylan hates wearing it. Most days it squeezes too tightly to the point she feared it could never be removed again.

"Hey," Clara speaks up once Tina left them alone. She came to a pit stop at the locker she recalled earlier - number 104 - and drags her arm away from Dylan again. She rummages through the bag slung on her arm for a black marker and points the end towards her. "You guys get a number set up at your new house yet?"

"Um..." Dylan has to rack the information in her mind before she finally nods in confirmation. "Yeah. My stepmom needed the phone for work."

"Cool. Write your number for me then," Clara just about demanded before she brought her bare arm towards Dylan's various direction.

Dylan doesn't see much room for argument. She shrugs before biting the cap off with her teeth, keeping them clasped around the plastic. It makes her voice muffled, barely audible when she admits, "You know, I didn't think I'd made a friend so quick," while using the ink to scrape the numbers Susan had set up their home phone with.

Clara waits until Dylan was done and handed her the marker back before she shrugs. "Yeah. You seem like the type."

The admission catches Dylan completely off-guard and stuns her into silence as she watches Clara take off. The second bell was a warning to signal their next class was about to begin just as her new... Friend? She thinks, catches up with another. She can't see their face from her distance but the girl has a mop of bouncy curls and a male with pushed-back chestnut hair has an arm around her petite frame. Dylan wonders if she did make a new friend, would it introduce her to a group? Or would there be even greater horrors?

These thoughts nearly kept Dylan's feet cemented to the ground but she suddenly remembers who she was. And even though it scares her to her very core that Clara Rhee had seen right through her facade, she can't let anyone else do so. Dylan becomes the girl she's supposed to be, the girl she hates, once again as she glides through the groups of teens swarming the hallways. As she turns a corner, something catches her eye.

A hunched figure is shuffling at a pace that makes Dylan believe he seemed to be running away from something behind him. She wondered how people did that. She's always been the one to race towards something with a clear destination in mind. She never left things behind, other than her home in California. But it was for something better. At least, that's what Neil told her. Dylan just had to hold onto that and understand she wouldn't be like many people here in Hawkins. Accepting that her true self was a sore thumb would've been the first step.

The ratty bag that thumps against his hip slightly tips over. Dylan's eyes follow what looks like a brown binder tilts out of the slitted opening before it topples over completely. It hits the linoleum floor with a soft smack.

It's almost lost among the rushing feet but Dylan keeps her eyes glued on the spot. She calls a, "Hey!" As she approaches, but she's too late. The guy was certainly tall, but his head had disappeared, possibly ducked into a classroom. Dylan ignores the chaos around her and crouches as she reaches the book folded shut.

Upon closer inspection, Dylan realizes it's not a book nor a binder. It's a small portfolio. The edges are creased with how well-used it's been. She wonders how long it's been kept in someone's hands, how much love had been put into this passion. So Dylan doesn't open it. She can't explain the magnetic pull it had on her but kept it snapped shut as she swung her backpack around and shoved it inside with the repetitive image of the back of the boy's head plastered in her mind.

━━━━━━━━

author's note:

first chapter is here! it only took me what, a year? sure feels like it.

this was sort of an introduction to dylan's character as well as clara's and how those two hit it off immediately. i hope you guys noticed how dylan fakes being this girl who she doesn't want to be to please everyone around her, how she doesn't think she's good, but still fits into a stereotypical "sweet, good girl" even though she's positive she's not. it's an important part of dylan's character arc later on. for sure in the next chapter you'll see a whole different side of her. 😉

also yes that was jonathan at the end. he booked it when he saw steve & nancy and didn't realize the love of his life was just right behind him!

i did want to include more in this chapter but i'm lazy and had to wrap it up so SORRY if it's kinda boring but we're goin up from here. thank you for tuning in!

- koda

.•° ✿ °•.
WORD COUNT:
4.3k.
°•. ✿ .•°