Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

—»⟩ ANDREA WAS NOT ONE OF THE FORTUNATE ONES living in Hawkins. Ever since she was young, people stared and whispered. It wasn’t due to poverty, or an innately frowned upon pairing of clothes or beliefs  — no, it was for disease. Plagued with two crutches, hearing aids and a burning that clawed from her stomach into her oesophagus, she stuck out like a nail yet to be hammered down. 

Two weeks had passed since the first term of Middle School had recommenced in 1984. Ginger leaves brought with them the seasonal switch from Summer to Autumn in the Midwestern state of Indiana; it didn’t keep the sun from blinding her in the morning that her absence was to be broken on.

Her father, greeting her with a smile stretched across his freckled face, lightly squeezed her shoulder. “Hiya, Andy.”

Opting not to speak, she stared before propping herself up. Her head filled with metal fuzz.

“It’s six in the morning, kid. I’m gonna make you a coffee and some breakfast. Can you manage to get dressed and brush your teeth?” He asked with a soft voice.

Silently, she nodded: her cheeks flushed with mute mortification at his questions — always and forever, he’ll treat her as if she’s incapable (which he’s not completely wrong to do).

Grunting as she stood on two feet, she  tapped along the corridor, her crutch following with her. Having already showered yesterday, she ignored the glass chamber and fixed her teeth; then she got dressed.

She wasn’t much of a ‘smart’ looking student. Allowing herself the freedom to wear what she wanted often didn’t result in being dress-coded, considering she used her disability as a crutch (literally) for her liberty, and considering the teachers were clueless enough to believe her.

After a few minutes, Andy walked into the kitchen, where her father was already placing toast on a plate for her. The scene, shaded with pale golden light, lost its saturation when her thoughts went quiet. She sighed and sat down, muscles loose.

“Aaaaaand, here’s the food for my special girl,” her dad mused, pushing the plate and the mug towards her. On the mug was a small willow tree, etched into its front side. 

With a soft hum, she grinded out, “Thank you,” and began to eat. The light seemed to become brighter, despite the bland scene it was highlighting. 

At 6:30, Andy shoved herself into her dad’s car, slumping down like a sack of potatoes farmed in the less suburban places of Hawkins Town. The CD began to spin inside of the car — it was an album by some British band her dad had gotten on his business trip to England. Wordlessly, she observed the scenery — yellowing, orangeing, reddening leaves all burning together in harmony. Each leaf was so different, and yet we always grouped them up into seasons without recognising their individual beauty. She sneered under her breath at the thought.

When the car stopped to a jolt, her stomach began to pulse alongside her heart. Desperate dread clawed into her bones and tried to pull their marrow apart from the inside. She took a breath; then another; then another. The pangs didn’t settle, but at least Andy had cleared her head.

“You ready?” Asked the man in the driver’s seat, beard combed neatly, “I can walk down with you, if you’d like?”

Shaking her head, she slowly exited the car, smiling at her dad. “I’ll be fine, pops. Thank you, though.”

Then — hopefully reassured — he drove away, car exhaust spewing out hazy smog. Now she had no escape from school. Andy began to walk towards the building with a stagger before her ears fixed to the sound of plastic rolling on concrete; as soon as she looked up, she was hit with an immeasurable force — someone moving at a high speed, crashing into her and knocking her onto the floor.

From beside her came a grunt and a sharp movement to catch whatever the person had been travelling on. After, there was a voice.

“Holy shit, sorry.. Uh.. are you okay?” 

Narrowing her eyes, Andy nodded and grasped at a small glint of metal nearby: she placed it back in her ear calmly, unaware of the slow blood trickling down her elbow.

The girl in front of her had ginger hair, sprinkled with the golden glow of early morning sun that gleamed in her blue irises. She wore an embarrassed frown and a pink blush springing at the tips of her ears. Andy swallowed.

“You’re bleeding,” the girl whispered under her breath, “God, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault..”

Andy shook her head in an attempt to calm the girl down, mumbling, “I have bandaids. I’m okay.” As if on cue, she produced a box of multicoloured bandaids, some with little stormclouds or stars — she placed it on her elbow.

“Um.. you’re sure you’re okay..?” Murmured the red-haired girl, still buzzing with worry.

Again, Andy nodded and gave her a small smile before carefully standing up and grabbing her crutch. “I’m okay.” Her larynx throbbed.

Shortly after, the girl got back on her board and skated away; a mix of unintelligible emotions crossed Andrea’s mind, but she managed to keep them quiet.

Bustling chatter and painfully loud jeers filled the hallways, prompting her to let out a miserable sigh. Maybe if she had come a little later, she wouldn’t have had to deal with this. Minutes passed, — the bell rang — and there was no sign of her brother, Mitch. Unlike her, Mitch was considerably popular: he rode his bike to school with his group of friends and always had new stories to tell during the family dinner. Her thoughts drifted — perhaps he had ditched her to be with his friends? Maybe he just hadn’t known she was coming in today?

“Hey, Ands?”

She jumped, eyes widening: Mitch stood before her, so different to her that people would never recognise them as twins. He had short auburn hair; she had black. He had bright blue eyes; she had brown. Swallowing, she gathered her thoughts.

“Um.. hi.. I wasn’t sure if you were gonna meet me..” Mumbled Andy.

“Oh, c’mon, I’m the best big brother in the world! Besides, my friends aren’t that cool anyways. You’re awsome-r.” He exclaimed, wrapping an arm around her neck — disgruntled, she pushed his face away.

Under her breath, she muttered, “You’re so annoying.. We have class to get to. I’m already late as it is.”

He smirked; rolled his eyes. “So bossy.” Noticing her irritation, he added, “C’mon then. I’ll walk you to class. That sound good?”

Begrudgingly, she nodded and followed him, her crutch trailing behind a number of clinks.

“Here. Have a good day. And if he asks where you were..”

“I almost broke my neck walking up the stairs.” She replied with an unenthused expression; Mitch grinned and nodded with glee.

Breathing deep, she opened the door and entered the classroom, locking eyes with Mr. Clarke — he tilted his head at the interruption, staring at her as if she was an anomaly. Awkwardly, she stood there, waiting to be called upon. 

“Another new student in two days?” He asked with a bright, baffled grin. “And what’s your name super scientist?”

Her face burned with mortification. It felt like her stomach was ready to spew acid and bile up, straight from the source. “I-I’m not new,” she meekly managed to whisper, shoulders tight to her neck.

“Huh..?” He blinked, seeming to be astounded by this information. “What’s your name?”

Whispering, she told him, “Andrea Enderson..”

Pausing for a moment, the man wracked his brain to remember her from the previous years. For some reason, it proved to be a difficult task — she stood there like a brick wall, writhing under the stares of the class’ population: she swore she heard someone muttering something about her being a cyborg.

“I’ll, uh.. have to check with the principal about that one.. but take a seat, Andrea!” 

As fast as she possibly could, she sat in a seat, one in the middle three chairs of the back row: the class then continued, everyone having forgotten about Andy’s disruption, although it was managing to stick well to her conscience. Peeking her head to the side to look out the window, she noticed a familiar face — freckled, ginger, crossing her arms as if it was the world’s fault she was trapped in this classroom. The second the girl turned to meet Andy’s eyes, she turned back to the window. Andy’s heart slumped.

For many seconds, she observed the girl, head tilted to the side like an inquisitive dog. The classroom faded into a blur. There was something about the girl that begged her to pull her eyes away, but still kept drawing Andy to her like a moth to a flame. She frowned — the feeling was weird; she didn’t like it one bit.

A small ball of paper hit her cheek, falling onto her desk. Four words: ‘Stop staring, space girl.’ 

The result was instantaneous.

Then, a few seconds later, another note broke Andy out of her trance, smacking her on the bridge of her nose. This time, it said, ‘I’m kidding, relax.’

With a scrunched nose and frowning brows, she looked at the girl, searching for the answers in her eyes.. or maybe just staring again... Regardless, the ginger shrugged and smiled; somehow the smile felt like a splinter of hope and comfort all bundled into one, stabbing through her insecurities and imbedding in her head like a curse and blessing of false hope.

‘My name’s max by the way. Probably shouldve told you earlier.’ A small doodle of a cartoon character doing a thumbs up was placed in the corner of the next paper: Andy grinned back at the drawing and glanced up at Max, who smiled back at her. The moment was still for a few, long seconds. Courage flickered in her sternum before being put out — Andy looked away. 

Recess came quickly after that. The geography lesson faded into a blur, with her only paying attention to a quarter of what the man waffled on about. She spent the fifteen minutes of free time (since Mitch was with his friends, and Andy didn’t want to embarrass him) in the Hawkins High building with the English teacher — her uncle — Mr Hauser, along with the kind senior girl from the high school named Robin; she had been teaching Andy about the German language and some things to say if people were being mean to her. One of them was, Zamknij gębę, ty mały draniu!

The next few classes blended into one, all about the same topics repeating like earworms. Then, she had lunch, which she chose to spend alone by the patch of grass near the school’s parking lot, idly observing the students of Hawkins — well, student. Max. Again.

Speeding down the pavement, shoulders relaxed but her muscles still oddly tensed, the girl was performing skating tricks, each one after the other; it was one of the only few things that could make Andy’s heart burn and prance simultaneously. One of the only things she disliked about the girl was how vulnerable her gaze made her feel.

Wait. 

She was looking at her? 

And now she’s picked her skateboard up and…

Oh Christ, Andy hadn’t learnt her lines for this social interaction.

“Hi..” Max said under her breath,  “I.. uh.. Saw you here all alone and thought you might want some company.”

She stared at the ground, eyes flicking up to her every few seconds. “T-thanks. You didn’t have to, or anything.”

“I wanted to.”

Andy’s heart screamed, inspecting the way the air grazed through Max’s hair and swept it to the side. It was fascinating. She was fascinating.

“D’you not have any lunch?” Inquisitively, Max asked, a curious half-smile gracing her tanned face.

“No,” replied Andy, who coughed to the side before continuing with acid bubbling up her throat, “I don’t.”

She hummed; gave leeway for a small furrow of her sharp brows, although she chose not to question the girl. Instead, she offered her a small breakfast bar, which Andy hesitantly took.

“This group of guys keep following me around,” muttered Max, straightening her legs out in front of her and propping herself up on her hands. Grass flitted out from the spaces in between her calloused fingers.

Crooked nose scrunched, Andy’s face wrinkled. “Gross. I hate the guys here.”

“Back in California, they were a lot more civilised.”

“You’re from California?” She was amazed by the information, staring wide-eyed at the girl like a dog that had been thrown a stick.

Max laughed at her countenance: the way her face went completely radiant with such a small expression of happiness was incredible. Heat swirled up into Andy’s face as she silently stared, merely watching the girl and taking note of her mannerisms.

Sighing, the ginger murmured, “Jeez, why is everyone staring at me today..” 

“Oh! I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t even notice. I zoned out.” Her voice crackled with the vigour of her defence.

Intruding on her embarrassment, the bell rang; Andy bashfully stood herself up, stumbling only slightly as her balance was thrown off.

“Um.. what do you have next..?”

Max answered, “Ugh. P.E.” 

With a silent nod, Andrea mumbled, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.. I have Math.”

Parting ways, the two girls split off to their respective classes. Andy grovelled in agony in double Maths while she presumed Max did the same in Gymnastics. 

When the inevitable last bell rang, Andy’s head was thoroughly preoccupied: instead of the usual greyness and hollowness of her philosophical thoughts, her mind was filled with the girl, Max, and attacked by the mortifying moments in which she failed to operate like a normal, respectable person around the girl. 

Maybe her inept social skills were finally catching up to her.

God, she hoped not.

Chapter Text

“SO LET ME GET THIS STRAIGHT,” MITCH MUTTERED, casting glances at his sister every so often while he crocheted a small, lilac octopus in his lap — “You met a girl named Max, she skateboards, and she’s most definitely the girl I got in an argument with at the arcade?”

“Uh.. well, when you put it like that..”

He shook his head, a grin creeping onto his face. “Uh-uh, no. Don’t apologise, Ands! This is great for you! Even if you’re conspiring against me.”

Andy felt herself shrinking like a shrivelled parsnip. “..Can we go back to talking about Halloween now..?”

“Fine, fine, you grump. Dad said he’d drop me off at my friends’ house. If you wanna do something, you can always come with me.. Or maybe ask your new friend if she wants to go with you..?”

“No thanks.. I don’t even know what I’d go as..”

He suggested, “Maybe a vampire? Suits your whole.. metal look”

Groaning, she sprawled out on the grass beneath her: like all days, she sat in the same place as usual, waiting it out until the bell rang, since her class was only a thirty-second walk away. The quickest period ever, English Literature.

“Just because I don't like to dress like baseless geeks — like you — doesn't mean I like vampires.”

“Sure don't like the sun, though,” he added, grinning.

The girl huffed, “I hate you.”

Like a whaling siren of perpetual doom, the bell rang, and Andy got back up on her feet, bowed legs shaking. Mitch’s eyes remained watchfully on her as she began to walk to class.

Without a second word to her brother, only a small wave and an unenthusiastic smile, she walked into class, glad that Mr. Fullingham hadn't called upon her and asked who she was like almost all the other teachers had done. She sat down on one of the chairs at the back.

Looking up, a horribly intriguing face became foregrounded. Max Mayfield. Again. For the fiftieth time. Andy swore the girl was haunting her.

The class progressed, a dull ache of wanting to talk to her, but never quite plucking up the courage to, whispering in Andy's ears. For the meantime, she kept her head slumped down and lazily wrote in the school book. Not a word would break her from her spell..

“Hey.”

Her head perked instantly.

“You look like you've been caught doing something wrong. Calm down, dumbass.” Her voice flowed in a way that calmed her nerves in a way that was much more forceful than needed.

She continued, “This group of guys keeps following me, I swear. Can you stay with me at lunch, maybe? I-I just.. I.. you look kind of scary, and.. I feel like it might get them to leave me alone. Not that your scary look is a bad thing, or anything..”

Reluctantly and against her better judgement, Andy nodded. There was no way she could say no to the first kid that had spoken to her at school in probably years. She didn't want to break their growing bond, and the word ‘no,’ was such a scary thing to say to someone, especially a half-friend. Were they even friends?

As soon as class ended, Andy followed Max out of the room, quietly behind her like a lost child. It was considerably harder to keep up with someone like Max. She was almost like a loose lightning rod, ready to strike anyone down if they prodded too much — Andy was weary of this.

She stopped in front of her locker while her — maybe, possibly — friend watched on, a guard dog ready to attack any relentless evil, including the demonic middle school boys. Staring out, she kept her eyes fixed to any possible offenders.

“They're here again..” Max sighed.

“Who..?”

“The two idiots in Ghostbusters uniforms.” 

Scanning her eyes, she looked across the crowds. “Ah…”

Clad in ghost-eradicating-ware were two boys, one with curled honey brown hair and the other with a tall stature and very short black hair. She glanced at Max with wide eyes and frowning brows.

“Were we supposed to dress up for school..?” She whispered.

“None of the teachers told us to,” Max answered, roughly opening her locker, “they're just geeks.”

Andy blinked. “Um.. the geeks are approaching..”

Both boys strutted towards them after seemingly bickering about something. They stopped in front of both girls; Andy stood further away in attempts not to humiliate Max, much to her dismay. The little angry sidelong look made Andy heel beside her again.

“Hi Max.. and co.. I’m Dustin, and this is…”

“Lucas.” Muttered the taller boy.

Andy, flicking her eyes back to Max, sloped her head down a little further. The hairs on her neck were spiking up like porcupine quills. She meekly shuffled back.

With a wrinkle of judgment flashing across her face, Max replied, “Yeah, I know. The stalkers.” 

She switched onto her other foot, eyebrows twitching up as the two boys scampered to pick themselves back up off of the floor. 

Lucas started, “Uh, no.. actually.. We weren't — stalking you..?”

“No, we were just concerned because, y’know, you're new and all.” The other one said. His inflections were mildly believable for a deaf person without hearing aids.

“Yeah, for your safety.”

“Mmm-hmm. There are a lot of bullies here.”

“S-so many bullies, it’s crazy.” Lucas backed him up.

Andy slowly was starting to lose interest in the situation, but stayed by her side after noticing that the boys were harmless. Instead, she stood behind Max, unaware of how menacing she actually looked. For some reason, she had that effect on people.

“Is that why you're wearing proton packs?” Max asked, sarcasm slipping through the cracks of her vocal chords.

“Well, these don't function — but!” Dustin, eyes wide with glee, continued, “I do have this handy-dandy little trap here — And look, it even opens and closes. Look, look, look..!”

He pressed a button on a small box connected to his ghost vacuum; it opened with a squeak and both of them looked at her with such enthusiasm that would've made Andy pass out.

Dustin whispered in a dramatic voice, “Voilà! It's cool right?” 

The ginger’s unenthused expression answered his question.

“No? Okay! But, um.. So, we were talking last night, and you're new here, so you probably don't have any friends to take you trick or treating, and you're scared of bullies, so we were thinking that it’d be okay if you come with us!”

Glancing at Andy, who had now shuffled back a little more again, she huffed, “It’d be okay?”

“Yeah. Our party’s a democracy — the majority voted you could come.” Dustin smiled brightly.

“I didn't realise it was such an honour to go trick-or-treating with you..! Does she get to come too?” 

“Uh.. I-I mean, yeah.. We know where to get the full-sized candy bars. We figured you’d want in.”

She blinked, smiling judgmentally. “That's presumptuous of you.”

A spell of silence soon was broken by Dustin’s cheerful voice. “Yeah. Totally. Uh, so, um.. you’ll — you'll come?”

Rolling her eyes, she harshly shoved her locker closed and linked her arm with Andy, muttering to her that they were leaving now: the ravenette had never been so red in her life.

“We’re meeting at the Maple Street cul-de-sac at 7:00. That's 7:00 on the dot!” Dustin yelled after them.

Sighing to herself, Max rushed off with Andy, who barely kept up with the girl but ignored the small pangs of discomfort flying like rockets through her leg. Nervousness flooded into anxiety, which seeped into nausea.

After a few seconds of silence, she managed to speak: “Um.. are we gonna go with them, or..? I-I meant to maybe ask you if you wanted to go with me, but.. I’m not good with stuff like that.”

“We can go together and trick-or-treat for an hour before, if you want. I have an interesting way to greet them..” Max replied with a growing grin that showed her slyness in HD.

“What are you plotting..?” 

“You’ll see tonight,” she answered, her sour mood brightening and warming like Neptune coming out of its eternal ice age. Her smile was electric.

“I’ll.. look forward to it..” Mumbled Andy, a smile slipping onto her face. 

Squeezing her shoulders, Max grinned harder and lightly shook her, “Yeah, you will!”

A small laugh erupted from Andy's lungs, punctuating her genuine joy that bounced off of the hallways. The pocket of pure light-heartedness was something that she hadn't experienced before. It felt.. nice. Strange, but nice.

The rest of the day went by rapid-fire, although it might've just been the universe accelerating in speed to make her endless worrying worsen over time. 6:00p.m. seemed so close to 3:00p.m.. 

Exactly the second that she greeted Mitch, she told him, “I need a costume. And some spare confidence.”

With a furrow in his thicker brows, he mumbled, “You're actually doing something for Halloween?”

“Um.. my new.. um.. friend..?” It felt weird in her mouth. “Yeah, she.. well.. maybe I… invited her..? I dunno. It's pretty fuzzy; but she said to meet her at 6:00p.m..”

“6:00.. Mm, I s’pose that’d work,” Mitch murmured. “Isn't that her over there..?”

Diverting her attention west of her, she watched as a flurry of ginger hair and pale blue jeans broke out of the restraints of air and slid down the concrete floor. She stopped and flicked up her board beside a blue Camaro, where an older boy, blonde and clad in denim, leaned against the hood.

Mitch gazed, whispering, “Is that her brother? He looks awesome..” 

Andy rolled her eyes: “He’s not that cool.”

“Oh, ‘cause you're cooler?”

The teasing brought flashes of red to her face, and she looked away from him. “Shut it. Dad’ll be here soon.”

Shaking his head, he grinned and patted her on the back. The sky went amber as they waited. Then, as it spread a dash of red across the orange smeared horizon, Mitch nudged Andy on the shoulder and helped her up off of the floor, where she had been resting and waiting. 

“He's not coming, Ands. Come on, let's walk.” He whispered. 

Torn up and twinged with concern, she nodded, a siege in her mind starving her of energy and hope. Swallowing hard, the two of them began to walk; the sunset did little to fuel them with warmth. It was cold, barren, mingling with occasional spells of soft rain.

“You don't think he.. did something stupid, right?”

A newer, smaller silence encapsulated the whole of Indiana before he replied, “He’s our dad. He's not dumb enough to get into an accident, and he's not dumb enough to try to do that again.”

Nodding and trying to start up her confidence and assurance, she mumbled, “Yeah.. you're probably right.”

When they got home, both doors were locked. The shrivelled spark of ‘what ifs’ suddenly began to flourish again in Andy's chest; it spread like a virus, infecting her head with panic.

“I’ll go in through the window and open the door,” Mitch decided, sliding open the glass on the side of the house. Andy waited.

The door soon opened — it was Mitch, not alarmed, not with wide eyes or tense muscles, but biting the inside of his cheek. “He’s asleep. I think he's been drinking.”

His words did nothing to calm her. She slipped inside the house, observing the man’s splayed out form on the sunken sofa; she made sure to check his pulse, which did ring out against the skin of his neck. 

“Something's happened.” She said undoubtedly. “He never drinks.”

Mitch shook his head, a hand on his hip. “You're thinking too much into this, okay? Pops is fine. He's probably just been out to a bar or something to watch sports and drunk a little too much.”

Unswayed, Andy shook the man’s shoulder, but he was out cold. She sighed. “I’ll cook something for dinner. Maybe, uh, pasta, or something.”

“I make an awesome pasta sauce. Why don't I help?” Mitch asked: she nodded and turned on the radio, which crackled into existence, Madonna blaring in the speakers.

Giggles flooded the house on Trainmay Street, an energy so profoundly excitable that even if their food burnt, even if a plate shattered, even if their attempts were unsuccessful, it would still remain a cherished memory in their heads afterwards. 

The food did manage to end up edible — a mixture of penne pasta, roughly grated cheese and a thick orange pasta sauce lathered on top. It wasn't particularly tasty; it was the experience that really counted.

“What.. time is it?” Asked Mitch.

“5:18..” His sister answered with a strained cough, scrawling a note to inform their dad of where they’d be going, in case he didn't wake up before.

Mitch hummed, smirking like a Cheshire cat. “You're not in costume yet.”

Face expressionless, she looked up at him. The death glare that struck him like lightning clearly told him not to bother, like chalk on a blackboard, but he continued still. “I'm gonna dress you up as a skeleton.”

“A skeleton? Really? Can't I be something cooler?” 

“Vampire?”

“It's so overdone!”

“Oh, Ands, please..” 

With a frustrated huff, she grunted, “Fine. Don't make me look stupid, though.”

Half an hour later, the twins were both dressed up — Mitch, a zombie, Andy a vampire — and they began their journey to the meeting place; it wasn't treacherously far away, so Mitch didn't feel as heavy a guilt in his bones. It was 6:04 when they arrived.

“Hey. Didn't think you were gonna.. wait.” Max, standing in all her glory with a Michael Myers mask atop her head, changed her stance and crossed her arms. “What's that guy doing here?

A sudden burst of timidness flared in her muscles. “Um.. He’s my twin.. He couldn't go with his friends, so I thought it'd be okay if.. he.. went with us..?”

“You should've told me. If I knew, I wouldn't’ve held back on scaring you.”

Andy blinked with a sheepish smile. “That's.. great to hear.”

“C’mon! You did a good job on taking a new spin on the vampire thing. You look awesome.” 

“Ah.. well, it was Mitch that did it..” Mumbled Andy, to Max’s dismay.

“Really? He’s good with makeup, I guess..” 

Smirking and clearly taking it as a win, Mitch yelped, “Hell yeah, I am! Glad to see someone finally respecting my true talent.” 

The first hour of trick-or-treating went by quicker than expected; Andy’s voice rasped up with the effort of yelling ‘trick-or-treat’ to every single household. So far, they had accumulated quite a lot of treats, with Mitch having the most since he always grabbed handfuls. When the clock struck 6:47, they began to walk to Maple Street. They got there by 6:53.

“Um.. so.. What was your idea of greeting them..?” Andy asked with a lingering smile, her voice straining with effort to be audible. 

“I’m gonna scare ‘em,” she grinned, shoving her mask back on and jogging over to a nearby bush. Reluctantly, Andy followed; Mitch skipped over with a smile. Approaching voices clued them into staying silent.

After a few minutes of waiting — “RAGGHH!”

A medley of different yelps rang through the air, but one stood out; high and feminine, the boy named Lucas screamed like a piglet that's tail had been trodden on — giggles escaped like prisoners of war, hearty and more genuine than any sadness could be.

“Holy shit, you should've seen the look on your faces,” Max laughed as she shoved her mask off, glowing under the radiance of the fruits of her amusement. 

There was something to the girl that was utterly captivating: the streetlights gleamed onto her a glitter of amber light that reflected in her now crescented seasalt eyes, illuminating each microscopic freckle and beauty mark like they were made at the hands of divinity. She truly seemed god-given. 

She continued, the slope of her jaw curving in her glee, “And you? Who screams like that? You sound like a little girl.”

Mitch snickered and jogged after Max while Andy shrugged at the still-recovering boys, one of which seemed to have a sour taste on his tongue. The bitter boy was the tallest of the three, quite scrawny, with thick black hair and a crease stuck between his brows like a splinter. 

“Who even are you? The cyborg everyone keeps talking about?” The boy asked, face writhing in anger so petty she wanted to laugh at him for it. 

A second passed before she mumbled, “Andy.. Max, um.. she asked if I would come with her, and my brother tagged along.. I hope that's okay.”

“Holy shit, you sound like a supervillain!” Dustin whispered, to which a boy with brown hair and a large camera beside him nudged him and gave Andy a small sympathetic look: the tallest boy huffed and crossed his arms.

“She's not that cool. I bet she doesn't even know what X-Men is.”

Opting to stay silent and not ramble on about how she adored the Marvel comics, she swallowed: Max turned around, Mitch hanging off one of her shoulders in true brotherly fashion. She wasn't sure how to put into words the bubbling urge to punt him; he looked at her smugly.

“Hey, you guys coming or not?” Max spoke, raising a brow with wide, giddy eyes. “Oh, Mitch said we should hit up Loch Nora. That's where the rich people live, right?”

After a beat, the three boys, Dustin Lucas and the brunette, rushed to the two, leaving her to trail behind with the pissed off and defeated boy. She blinked, giving him a nervous little smile. 

“It's Halloween. You should enjoy it,” Andy said, unwilling to leave him in the dirt. If the eerie sense of upset was still hanging over someone, a dark cloud looming above their head, she couldn't rest easy. 

With a distasteful glare, the boy standoffishly picked up his pace to rejoin the group; Andy followed behind, a routine so familiar it was like clockwork. Eventually, after eight failed attempts of trying to make up the distance, Mitch came to join her and keep her entertained.

Slowly, the night passed. Andy had decided not to continue with greeting each person behind the doors and instead had forced Mitch to halve the candy he managed to gain with her. 

At some point, Lucas (the little-girl-screaming boy) had tripped over an old man’s door while trying to grab some candy and accidentally knocked the tray of sweets from the poor man’s hands, much to everyone’s amusement — aside from the tall boy, which she had come to pick up on was named Mike.

“Another full-sized? Like seriously, these rich people are such suckers. Wait, you're.. not rich, right?” Andrea heard from her spot behind Max, Lucas and Dusin, who, regrettably, had stolen the girl’s attention.

“No, I live up Old Cherry Road.” She took a subconscious note of that.

“Oh.”

Max mumbled, “No, it's fine. I mean, the street’s good for skating.”

“Yeah, totally tubular!” Dustin exclaimed as he chomped on a chocolate bar. “What? Did I say that right? Or is it, like, tubular?”

“It-it’s like, it's like, totally tubular!” Lucas corrected. 

A voice burst through the cracks of her silent observations. “You're spacing out.”

“I am..?” Andrea murmured, glancing up at Mitch, who nodded with a curious expression, his hair frizzing up at the ends like tiny lightning bolts.

“Yeah.. you were really spaced out..” He said and put a hand on her shoulder. “Y’should stop staring. She’s not gonna disappear, y’know?”

“I'm not staring, I’m just..”

He grinned. “Just what? Admiring her hair? Look, Ands, I know you're glad you have a friend, but stop thinking like she's gonna suddenly abandon you for two dorks like them. You're much cooler.”

“I don't even know how to speak to people,” she whispered as a counter. “They seem to click with her so well..”

“She thinks you're awesome. Trust me.”

With a skeptical glance, she turned her head to the damp floor, quietly mumbling to herself, “Wicked wave sounds better.”

“Stop! My ears are hurting!” Max snickered, and it was as if the colour that had drained from the world came back in imperfect splotches.

She was so innately different, carrying herself in a way that was never done before. She was so one-of-a-kind, brightening the entire world with a single grin. She was like a diamond; she was like glass: shattering in a way that couldn't be replicated.

The night quickly changed moods from overall vibrant laughter to concern and confusion. Having walked a little slower, she was side-by-side with the brunette boy — Will — as the rest of the group walked up a house’s drive. 

Three insensitive teenage boys walked up to him and one thing led to another; now she was worriedly sitting down against a wall next to him as he blankly trembled. Mike was asking quick, unhelpful questions while the rest of them quickly ran over and stared like he had grown another head. 

“Holy shit,” Dustin exclaimed as he rushed towards them — Andy was focused on keeping the boy’s breaths slow and deep rather than sharp and shallow. “Is he gonna be okay?”

“Don't crowd him. Look around and count all of the things you can see that are circular. Can you do that?” She ordered, her relaxed disposition so violently different from the others’. It was unusual to find any calm within chaos, but she felt it out and grabbed it as soon as she could. 

Shaking her head at Mike, who was almost vibrating with the urge to bark out questions, she watched Will visibly loosen his body and relax against the wall, lips still parted with stunned terror, before permitting anyone else to speak.

“I’m gonna get you home, okay? I’m gonna get you home.” Mike said firmly, having pushed down his worry and exchanged it for compassion. 

He helped Will up as a cacophony of voices asked if they needed help. “I got him, I got him. Keep trick-or-treating. I’m bored anyway.”

The two boys shuffled off — Andy quietly watched, biting her lip. She took Mitch’s hand and pulled herself back up off of the floor, much to her brother's utter disgust (he got a bit of mud on him because of Andy sitting on the floor).

“What's wrong with him?” Max broke the silence, glancing between Dustin and Lucas, who merely looked at each other.

From then on, the night was a little less light-hearted; Mitch and Andy ended up leaving earlier than the other three out of concern for how long it took to get home, and partly because the constant walking was going to catch up with Andrea tomorrow.

As soon as they got home, Mitch was looking through his basket, thoroughly pleased with the food. They both took turns washing off their makeup afterwards.

“I’m gonna go to bed.. Love you,” she said softly since if she raised her voice even a little bit, the rasp would break her words up. She had to pray that her voice wouldn't fully go by tomorrow.

“Alright. G’night Ands. Love ya. I won't be up much longer, I promise.”

She hummed and ascended the stairs; it had never felt more rewarding to change into her pajamas. After brushing her teeth, she got herself into bed, tucking herself into the blankets and quietly enjoying the silence of solitary.