Chapter Text
The insignificant town of Hawkins, Indiana, was about three long steps away from nowhere.
At least, insignificant was how it seemed to the world— or rather, it seemed to the world to not exist at all. A pinpoint on the county map simply too small to garner a title.
For its residents, it was different. Different in a way most small towns were not.
Ava discovered this fact quickly. Almost seconds into the drive from the one airport near town– that is, within fifty miles of town– she could sense something off-color about the sleepy streets, the leaves prematurely changing. Seated beside her stoic, moustached dad in his massive police cruiser, she was struck by the feeling that everything looked so normal. And that was usually the first sign that it wasn’t.
The drive had been relatively silent on the way in. Her father, while a talented man in many respects, was an easy read to anyone who really knew him. And that was the other reason she knew Hawkins was different from the beginning– because he said absolutely nothing to indicate that it was.
He was the chief of police– Ava’s Dad. Jim Hopper.
Hopper had never been a striking conversationalist when it came to his own daughter, and that certainly didn’t change during the mind-numbingly long drive. Maybe he preferred the silence, lost in his own thoughts. Or maybe it was the fact that they’d hardly seen each other in the span of the last decade, and that that kind of a gap was pretty damn hard to bridge.
Hopper and Ava were somewhat estranged.
Ava’s mother had blown town and moved herself and her daughter to Seattle when Ava was barely six years old– so long ago now that to many residents of her birthplace, the chief’s daughter had ceased to exist at all in memory. And, well, it was a long way from Indiana to Washington– long enough that Ava had only visited her father approximately eight times in the last eleven years. She used to dread it– leaving behind the mountains and the water and having only pitiful hills and farmland to look at for however long she was forced to stay. There was nothing to do here when you had no friends and nowhere to go but the police station manned by three deputies and a cranky secretary who fed you stale candy.
But none of it mattered. Secrets be damned, Hawkins was not Seattle, and that was all Ava cared about. Hopper had been generous enough to take her in now, at seventeen, for one last year of school before she could ditch everyone and everything she knew and never have to return to her old life again. He hadn’t asked any questions when she’d told him she was coming to stay– just made a crack at her mom for giving up on raising her daughter so close to the finish line (which had some truth to it) and told her he would make arrangements. And she was grateful– really. Even if, in the back of her mind, she thought that he was probably only being so nice about it because he had somehow figured out what had happened to her.
And despite that generosity, in her head, he was Hopper. Not Dad. That was just the way things were between them.
To describe herself, Ava would tell you a few things.
Her full name was Evelyn Jean Hopper, although she went by Ava out of personal principle. She had a nickname for every hour of the day and a streak of temper for anyone who called her one without permission.
This year was set to be her senior year in high school, which, combined with the dead heat of Indiana August, made this just about the worst time in the history of any teenager alive to be moving here. She hadn’t had any particular fondness for her old school, although she did have a few friends back home that had made it very hard to leave. But at least here, at Hawkins High, she didn’t have to take Calculus, because they didn’t offer it.
She was five-foot-four and had kept her wavy hair cut to her shoulders since she was fourteen. She had never had a steady boyfriend, but she liked to make lots of plans with her friends, often late into the night, because it kept her mind off things.
But, again, she had no friends here. And until school began, and she would have to attempt to start her high school career over in her last year, that was the way it was going to stay.
There was little to do when Hopper was away at the station during the day besides stare at the unpacked boxes she hadn’t yet gotten to or the pitiful lack of decoration on her walls that made her new room feel alien to her. So every day, Ava dragged herself outside for a walk across town, determined to discover what intrigue might lie in it for her. She had a walkman and headphones, and that was all that really mattered, anyway, so she set off into the miniscule city square for the fourth time since she had arrived to a Dead South tune she had never particularly enjoyed but thought was obnoxiously fitting.
Hawkins, in a word, was quaint.
Little stores scattered along the streets and a movie theater that only played things that were months older than what was showing on the coasts. Evergreen trees, which reminded her of home, and teenagers trying their best to find a new place to hang out or make out or go unreported by the neighborhood watch while they smoked a joint.
As she passed by people on the street, she couldn’t ignore the stares that they gave her, the hesitant smiles. She supposed, with how little seemed to happen around here, that the chief’s daughter moving back home must be no small excitement. Even so, it was strange to be watched– to be the stranger when everyone else looked so perfectly at home. She elected to ignore the pointed looks, keeping her eyes straight ahead as she made her way down the broad road. Watching the smalltown buzz and clamor from a distance.
And because of this, Evelyn Jean Hopper could not recall the first time she saw him, because she had not been paying attention.
In Hawkins, Indiana, monsters were real, and Steve Harrington was one of the only people who knew it.
Sometimes it amazed him how easy it had been to return to his day-to-day life since he had discovered what dwelt beneath his feet, in the woods, out in the run-down old lab on the edge of town. Monsters were real, an alternate dimension might cause the world as they knew it to come to an end, and his dad was still gonna kick his ass when his dismal SAT scores came back in the mail.
It had been a tough summer.
It felt like he’d hardly had time to catch his breath since the Russian invasion, the made-up mall fire, the miraculous return of the police chief and the deaths of all those people absorbed by the Mind-Flayer. Even though he’d gotten his fair share of new friendships out of it, even though everyone he cared about had emerged from the flames relatively unscathed, he just couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that pretty soon, his biggest was going to be performing in front of college scouts.
But, hell, there were two days left before the beginning of his senior year, and if Steve knew how to do anything, it was how to have a good time while it lasted. And that’s exactly what he was planning on doing.
He had already made good on his promise to take Dustin to Radio Shack for whatever new and freaky electronic contraption he was manufacturing, and the date for his and Robin’s now-weekly movie night was set. Having blown off plans with a friend from the baseball team to once again go find a nice abandoned spot in the woods and get high, at the moment, Steve was thoroughly enjoying the opportunity to sit with one of his closest friends, Jay Matthews, and soak up the last of his obligation-free summertime.
They drove to Main Street together, thinking to wander around and see what pulled their interest, but as most people were inside avoiding the heat, they ended up just leaning against the hood of Steve’s car, jabbering back and forth as always.
Jay was animatedly explaining the plot of his latest romantic endeavor, and Steve was doing his best to listen. He made it about halfway through the synopsis before something snagged his vision, and his attention was pulled completely away.
“Who’s that?”
On the opposite side of the street, a girl in a blue sundress was walking down the lines of shops, the waves of her short, reddish-brown hair pushed back by a pair of headphones.
Jay stopped, giving him an annoyed look. “I was in the middle of a story.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know–” Steve’s eyes traced the girl as she continued on her way, weaving through families blocking the sidewalk, dark eyes boring straight ahead. It was strange, if only because he was sure he’d never seen her before. And what in Hawkins was ever new? “Look,” he pointed her out to Jay. “Who is that?”
“Her?”
“Yeah, her. Is she new here or something?”
“Yeah, that’s the chief’s daughter, dude. Don’t you listen to anything?”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Where was I supposed to hear that?”
Jay snorted. “It’s, like, all anyone’s talked about lately. She just moved back here from Seattle, I guess.”
Steve watched as she disappeared around the corner. “That’s Hopper’s kid?” She certainly didn’t resemble her father. “What’s her name?”
“Man, I don’t know!” Jay protested. “This is what you interrupted me for?”
Steve spread his hands. “Alright, alright, I was just curious. Go on.”
Jay huffed but continued, although Steve’s thoughts still wandered from the story. If that was the chief’s daughter, that meant she used to live here. He wondered if he had known her back then, or if she remembered any of them. Wondered if he would see her at school, or if Hopper would tell her the truth about the town once the rumors about the supernatural started to reach her ears.
And, especially, he wondered what the hell she was doing here.
As the sole senior transfer student to Hawkins High School, Ava was permitted a private tour of the campus the following day to spare the embarrassment of being lumped in with the freshman. That meant that she was alone for her orientation– alone except for her guide, a peppy, wide-smiled cheerleader with a head of white-blonde curls who introduced herself as Sabrina.
Despite the length of the tour, Ava came to actually enjoy Sabrina’s company– she had one of those upbeat tones paired with a dry, crackling humor that was instantly endearing. By the end of the whole ordeal, Ava had somehow found herself agreeing to try out for the cheer team, which had certainly not been her intention– in fact, she had been rather more interested in the soccer team. But at the very least, it seemed like she had made a friend, and that was certainly not something Ava had the means to pass up at the moment, so she resolved to muster her pep and try something new for a change.
After the tour, she headed out to her truck, thinking of driving to Main Street so she could continue her pedestrian exploration of the town. Hopper had fixed up the rust-red, beat-up thing as a homecoming present for her and a means for her to get around when he was at the station. It had terrible gas mileage and made worryingly loud sounds when she accelerated, but she loved it nonetheless– especially because driving meant the freedom to go wherever she wanted, whenever.
She left her truck parked in front of the post office and hit play on her walkman, thinking that today, if she was fast, she might be able to reach the sidewalk’s end before dark.
Robin Buckley worked with Steve at the Family Video in the middle of town, and she was, for all intents and purposes, probably his best friend.
Most of his friends prior to the last two years had been douchebags– typical mean kids set to be has-beens he didn’t care much about at all anymore. And in fairness, that was probably because Steve had been something of a douchebag himself. But ever since his junior year, when nearly losing Nancy Wheeler had made him realize he was turning out exactly like his douchebag dad, things had been different. Gone were the stoners, the bullies, the guys who only thought about drinking and screwing. And in their place, he had found that without all of that inane cruelty, there were still people he liked– people who liked him. And Robin was one of those people.
Most of the time, anyway. When it came to movie night, all bets were off.
“I refuse to watch Animal House again.” Robin insisted as they packed up their things and left to close the store. “It’s the most idiotic coming-of-age movie I have ever witnessed and I will not waste another two hours of my life on it.”
“Well, I’m not letting you pick anything,” he argued back. “We voted on funny, and last time I said funny you tricked me into watching The Exorcist.”
Robin grinned. “Yeah, that was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Steve flicked through the stack of tapes in his hands as Robin locked the doors. “I don’t know, Rob, coming-of-age is feeling pretty good for tonight. What do we think about Risky Business?”
He was mid-sentence when he collided full-tilt into someone, and the tapes went everywhere. Steve caught the arms of whoever was in front of him before they both toppled over, and it was then that he registered it was her.
“Shit, I’m sorry–” The chief’s daughter regained her footing and tugged her headphones down. She stooped to pick up the tapes, and Steve dropped into a crouch to do the same.
“Real smooth, Dingus.” He could almost hear Robin rolling her eyes at him.
Steve looked up and gave the girl a rueful smile. “My fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
Her lips tugged up slightly in response. She snatched up the last tape– the copy of Risky Business– and handed it to him. “Good choice.” she said as they rose. Up close, he could see how dark her brown eyes were– practically black. With that half-smile on her face, she looked really pretty.
“I told you so.” Steve said to Robin, pushing aside that particular observation. He turned back to the new girl. “Thank you. You know, I think you just picked our feature film for tonight.”
“That’s still highly debateable.” Robin interjected.
The girl watched in amusement. “Glad to be of service, I guess.”
Remembering himself, Steve finally offered, “I’m Steve. This is my friend Robin.”
Robin waggled her fingers in greeting. “You’re the chief’s daughter, right?”
The girl’s eyes flicked between them. “Um, yeah. How did you know that?”
“Well, I mean, you’re kind of the newest thing to come to town since MTV,” Steve explained.
“Good to know.” She nodded. “This place is a little smaller than back home, so I guess that makes sense.”
“Yeah, just about anywhere is bigger than here.” Robin snorted.
“It’s not so bad,” Steve assured her, elbowing Robin. “Rob’s just a cynic.”
“Am not.”
The girl smiled again. “Alright, well, maybe I’ll see you guys in school?”
Steve nodded. “Yeah– yeah, we’re both seniors this year.”
“Me too,” she replied.
“Great.” There was a brief, awkward pause.
“I’d probably better go,” the girl said, lifting a hand in goodbye. “It was nice meeting you.”
“I didn’t catch your name,” Steve called before she could leave.
The girl turned back. “I’m Ava.” she said, lips curving up again. “Bye, Robin and Steve.”
“Bye.” they said in unison as she left.
When she was gone, Robin turned back to him to give him an annoyingly knowing look. “So very smooth, Dingus.”