Chapter Text
It was the beginning of senior year. Finally—only one more year until freedom. Jonathan Byers had never had a good experience with school. From the first day he’d stepped into Hawkins High, he’d been labeled: the weird loner with the camera, the kid who kept his head down and stayed quiet. People didn’t try very hard to get to know him, and he’d learned not to expect them to.
Friends never seemed to last. Josh had been the exception—his only real friend for a while—until sophomore year, when Josh ditched him for the glow of popularity. He’d slid easily into Steve Harrington’s crowd, laughing louder, dressing different, pretending Jonathan didn’t exist. After that, Jonathan really was alone.
Junior year had dragged on endlessly, each day blending into the next. Hallways full of noise and lockers slamming shut, teachers who barely noticed him, classmates who looked through him like he wasn’t even there. Now, standing on the edge of senior year, he just wanted it over with. One year left. One year to survive.
He walked into Hawkins High, the familiar brick building looming in front of him. His last first day ever. Thank God, he thought, adjusting the strap of his camera bag on his shoulder. The smell of floor cleaner and old books hit him as he stepped inside, along with the buzz of excited voices reuniting after summer. Lockers banged open and shut, laughter echoed down the halls. Jonathan kept his eyes forward, moving through the crowd like a ghost.
He told himself he didn’t care—that this was just another day in a place he’d never belonged. But deep down, he hoped senior year might be different. Or at the very least, that it would finally end.
Then he saw her.
He’d never seen her before. It felt like time stalled, like the hallway noise faded into a dull hum. Cliché, he knew—but the feeling was real. A strange warmth spread through his chest, creeping up his neck and down his arms, like his body had reacted before his brain could catch up.
She was standing at the locker next to his.
Maybe he could talk to her. Maybe he’d finally work up the courage. Knowing him, though, he’d overthink it until the moment passed.
Jonathan opened his locker and shoved inside the books he didn’t need, pretending to be busy. He glanced sideways, trying to be subtle—and froze when he realized she was already looking at him.
“Hey,” she said, her voice light, curious.
“Hi,” he replied, a little too quick.
“I’m Nancy. Nancy Wheeler.”
“Jonathan. Byers.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Jonathan,” she said, smiling like she actually meant it.
“Yeah. You too,” he said, rubbing his thumb against the strap of his bag.
“So… what’s your first class?” she asked. “I just transferred here, and I have absolutely no idea where anything is.”
“I have English,” Jonathan said. “I can walk you wherever you need to go. Mr. Rudolph doesn’t care if anyone’s late—I had him last year.”
Her face lit up. “No way! I have English too. You can still walk me if you want,” she added with a small laugh.
“Okay,” Jonathan said quietly.
They started down the hallway together. Lockers slammed around them, voices overlapping, but somehow it felt like the space between them stayed calm. Jonathan wanted to say something—anything—but his mind kept going blank.
“So,” he finally said, “what made you switch schools?”
She didn’t hesitate. “My best friend Barb moved to Maine last year. School got… lonely without her. I just needed a change. I’m hoping to make new friends here.”
“I get that,” Jonathan said, and he meant it.
They reached the English room, and Jonathan instinctively headed for the back row. To his surprise, Nancy followed and slid into the seat beside him. Class dragged on painfully slow, words blurring together on the board. By the time the bell rang, Jonathan barely remembered any of it.
When he stepped into the hallway, Nancy was waiting.
“Hey, I have math next. What about you?”
“Spanish,” Jonathan said. “I can walk you to the math wing if you want.”
“That’s okay,” she said. “Thanks for everything, Jonathan.”
“No problem.”
He watched her walk away, a faint, unfamiliar ache settling in his chest. Maybe this could be his first friend. Maybe.
At lunch, he spotted her again—standing awkwardly with her lunch, scanning the room for an open seat. His heart kicked hard against his ribs. Before he could talk himself out of it, he walked up to her.
“Uh… do you want to eat outside? By my car?” he asked. “It’s quieter.”
Her shoulders relaxed instantly. “Wow, yes. Thank you. I was honestly terrified of lunch.”
They sat on the hood of his car in the parking lot, the late-summer air warm and still. For a while, they didn’t talk, and somehow the silence felt easy instead of uncomfortable.
Then doubt crept in.
“Nancy,” Jonathan said, staring at his hands, “I don’t know if you should be friends with me.”
Her brow furrowed. “Why?”
“I don’t really have friends. Everyone thinks I’m the weird loner,” he said. “People will see you differently if you hang out with me.”
“Jonathan,” she said softly, “you’re the only person who talked to me today. Everyone else ignored me. Right now, you’re my only friend.”
Something loosened in his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered.
“Don’t be,” she said. “What are you doing tonight?”
He huffed a dry laugh. “What do you think?”
“Come over,” she said. “I need something normal. My mom would love to meet my new friend.”
“My… what?”
She grinned and grabbed a marker from her bag, writing her address carefully on his hand. “Come at five.”
“Okay,” he said, barely trusting his voice.
As she walked away, Jonathan looked down at the ink on his skin, rubbing his thumb over it like it might disappear. For once, he wasn’t dreading the rest of the day. For once, he had something to look forward to.
And as he headed to his next class, he realized he was smiling—just a little.