Chapter Text
A life without spices, Maureen decided just three days after moving to Hawkins, Indiana, isn’t worth living.
Her mom made scrambled eggs for breakfast, plain. No hot sauce to wake Maureen up in the morning. Not even some pepper. Nothing.
For the first time, this seems to be something even Billy agrees on, judging by the way he glares at his plate like it's personally offended him just by existing. Max picks at the eggs and looks like she might cry. Maureen would've cried with her.
It's like the second they stepped a foot into this mid-western small town, their mom tried everything to blend in, even behind closed doors. It's not like their neighbors would come snooping the drawers and scream at the sight of garlic. But Susan is determined. She drenches every meal in too much mayonnaise, barely even put salt in the food – claiming it's healthier this way – and even the coffee is now too thin, tasting like paint water.
If crying wouldn't mean endless jabs from Billy and scolding from Neil, Maureen would've curled into a ball and wailed about how much she missed California.
But she didn't. She had some dignity, after all.
So she sucks it all up and pretends not to hear Neil bragging about his new job and how much better their life will be now that they moved away from their old burdens. As if the past is something you could just shrug off and leave in the dirt.
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»Brats!« Billy yelled from the front porch, jingling his car keys as Maureen is braiding her hair in front of the bathroom mirror. »Let's go. Now.«
»Asshole,« Max mutters from the hallway where she'd been trying to untangle the mess of her headphones, Walkman attached to her hip.
»An asshole with a car, unfortunately,« Maureen mumbles under her breath and exhales in annoyance when Billy shouts again. If his dad would still be home, he wouldn't dare to be this cocky. But Neil is off to his job and Susan is busy pretending they're a picture perfect family.
»Come on,« Maureen murmurs and lets her hair sit half done on her shoulder, gently putting a hand on Max's shoulder to stir her outside. On the way, she grabs her bag, full of patches and pins, while Max picks up her skateboard.
They climb into Billy's Camaro that smells of cigarettes and his rich cologne that scratches Maureen's throat and makes her want to roll the windows down. But she knows better than to touch anything in Billy's beloved car.
Their mom said it's convenient that Billy can drive them all to school. Honestly, Maureen would've preferred a cramped and loud bus over this. With Max staring out the window on the backseat, Billy driving one-handed without any care in the world and the music cracked up so high it feels like it's knocking against Maureen's skull from the inside, she wants to shrink into herself.
Maureen feels a headache creep up and busies her fingers with her half-done braid, counting the minutes until they arrive at school. With the way Billy drives - too fast, too reckless - they're there within fifteen minutes. Music blaring and spilling out to the parking lot when Max jumps out without saying goodbye and skating off. Maureen doesn't blame her but wishes she could do the same.
Instead, she climbs out with Billy, heart somewhere in her throat and too many eyes watching her. Or him. If he wasn't such an asshole, maybe Maureen could see what those girls see as they pass them. The confidence with which he carries himself, the slight smirk on his lips, the way his lashes look like from a magazine.
»What a shithole,« Billy mutters, throwing his cigarette somewhere on the concrete. Maureen can feel his gaze on her, his exhale like she already did something to rub him the wrong way. »Don't you think, Maureen?«
She hates how he says her name. The lazy, dangerous drawl in his voice, the glint in his blue eyes.
»I don't know.« She keeps her eyes straight as they walk up to the school building. Hawkins High. Welcome.
»That's your favorite answer, isn't it.« Billy scoffs, pushing the door open, not even bothering look over his shoulder to Maureen who has to hurry so it doesn't hit her in the face. »I don't know. I don't know.« He mimics her voice way too high-pitched. »Is there anything in that stupid little head of yours?«
Maureen bites her tongue. Stays silent. She knows better than to fight with him when he's already irritated. Ever since his father and her mother told them the great news of moving in together, then moving away, he's been like this. Snapping at everything. Being the greatest imaginable douchebag at home in a way his father doesn't notice - locking Maureen in her room twice since they're here just for the sake of it, stealing the chocolate bar Max saved for later, leaving only one piece of toilet paper on the roll.
Luckily, Billy decides she's no fun and flirts with the secretary instead.
They have different classes for most of the day, so Maureen is stuck on her own. Every teacher forces her to introduce herself to a class that looks mildly curious, but mostly bored.
One girl introduces herself to Maureen. Donna Powell has great blonde curls and a cute gap between her front teeth when she smiles and she basically adopts Maureen from the spot.
Maureen is thankful, really.
But her headache only grows with every hour that ticks by.
By lunchtime, Maureen has trouble keeping her breakfast to herself and she excuses herself to the bathroom - »Sitting at the far right in the cafeteria when you're done!,« Donna calls after her - where she frantically searches her bag until she finds the small, orange bottle. She swallows two pills at once, chugging down half her water bottle.
Sweat beads on her forehead as Maureen stares at the mirror. Her reflection is pale, shaky, freckles standing out like sprinkles on a cake. She lets water run down her wrists, cold and grounding while she forces herself to take deep breaths.
The slamming of a door makes her flinch and when she looks up, wide brown eyes stare at her in the mirror. Maureen didn't notice that one of the cabins was occupied.
»Sorry, I thought ...« The girl trails of, leaving the sentence hang in the air between them like a quiet, timid thing. Something about her small shoulders and pastel blouse, the wide eyes and trembling hands reminds Maureen of a frightened deer.
»It's alright,« she says softly, even though she doesn't know what the girl wanted to say. Her guts tell her it wasn't about her thinking she was alone.
The girl takes a breath. It looks like it takes her a lot of strength to take her eyes from Maureen and move to the sink to wash her hands.
Maureen turns the water off. Her hands feel numb from the cold, but the pressure behind her temples slowly seem to lessen.
»I'm sorry,« the girl speaks up again, causing Maureen to look back at her. »It's just ... thought you were a friend of mine. The red hair threw me off.«
Something about that feels weighted. A sadness clings to those words, even though the girl already schooled her expression back to something neutral that's only a little bit tight around the edges. Her eyes are downcast, fixed on her hands as she washes them like she's on a mission. As if the motion is calming.
»Oh.« Maureen's voice is quiet. Her fingers fumble with a paper towel, unsure what to say.
»I'm Nancy, by the way.« The girl turns the water off and looks at Maureen. For a moment, it feels like she's searching something in her face, but when she doesn't find it, some of the tension bleeds out of her shoulders.
»Maureen.«
»You're new, right? I saw you this morning in the parking lot.«
Maureen winces at that. What a great first impression. »I hope you weren't one of the girls Billy almost hit. He drives like a madman.«
A barely there smile tugs on Nancy's lips. »No, I was at a safe distance. It was just hard to miss your ... entrance.«
She's trying to be nice, Maureen notices. It makes something in her chest ease a little.
»Billy likes to announce himself.« Or rather doesn't care about who looks at him. He likes being seen. Respected. Feared, even.
»So you moved recently? Do you have any relatives around?« Nancy dries her hands on a towel as well, her eyes softer now, lighter.
»No.« Maureen shakes her head and her fingers find her braid to play with it before she remembers that her mom told her she looked arrogant doing that, so she quickly drops it and fiddles with one of the pins on her bag that she put on the sink. »My stepfather got a job here and he wanted a fresh start for us. As a family.« The last word burns on Maureen's tongue.
A family. What even is a family? Ever since her parents divorced and her mom started dating again, it's been always her and Max against whoever she brought home. Susan is the kind of person who can't stay alone for long, who just needs someone around she can adapt to because it's easier to be someone who's wanted instead of trying to find out who she is when she's alone.
The only steady thing in Maureen's life has always been Max.
»Sounds like you could use some friends.« The first real smile. Nancy slings her bag over her shoulder. If she noticed the edge to Maureen's words, she doesn't comment on it. »Wanna sit with me for lunch?«
And just like that, Maureen found people to spend lunch with. Donna, to Maureen's surprise, sits with them without asking. Adding to the girls is Nancy’s boyfriend Steve Harrington. In the hallways, Maureen heard people drop the name 'King Steve', but she is not sure if it is him they meant. He's obviously in a better place, considering his neat clothes and carefully styled hair, but otherwise, he seems nice.
Maureen notices Billy in the cafeteria as well, surrounded by a bunch of guys. He gazes at her, something hard in his eyes. She doesn't know what this is about - but even back in California he has been watching her like this sometimes. Like he is waiting for something.
When she walks towards his car after school, he's already waiting there. A cigarette hangs in the corner of his mouth and his jeans jacket is open, revealing the plain shirt over his muscular body.
»You were sitting with Harrington,« he says instead of a greating. Not that she expects one.
»What about it?« Maureen stops, jaw tight, as she looks at Billy. The chill autumn air creeps beneath the collar of her own jacket, making her pull her shoulders up.
»Mh.« Billy flicks the cigarette, watching her like a hunter ready to strike. In moments like these, he reminds her of Neil so much it's chilling. »I'm just surprised. You're not the type to hang with the popular ones.«
»It's a new start,« Maureen repeats the words Neil has said over and over to them as if a repetition would make it easier. But crap is still crap even if it glitters. »What do you want from me?« She's getting defensive.
»I want you to stay away from trouble, that's all.« He blows the smoke in her direction which makes Maureen scrunch her nose and take a step back.
»You're disgusting.«
Billy only grins. It doesn't reach his eyes.
Maureen throws her bag into the car, but stays standing, looking for Max. She wonders if her sister had a good start to school. Max never had it easy to make friends and since Neil and Billy are in their lives, she closes off more and more, withdrawing into her music or outside, skating like she could run from the shadows crawling around in the corners of their home.
When she finally appears, Billy has a scowl on his face.
»You're late,« he barks, but Max barely spares him glance. Maureen's heart aches, but she says nothing as her sister slams the back door of the car.
»Let her,« Maureen says quietly, casting a pleading gaze over the roof of the Camaro.
»I am not a cab driver.« Billy wrenches the door open and Maureen has no choice but to glide onto the passenger seat.
The car is filled with Billy's anger curling in the inside of the car, drumming in sync with the bass of his music as he races home like he's being chased. Maureen wishes he would drive slower. Her skin pricks with his anger and her jaw hurts from clenching it.
Anger replaced the spices in the Hargrove-Mayfield household. It sits in the corners, waits behind closed doors and smiles that show too much teeth. Sometimes Maureen wonders if her mother even feels it or if she ignores it like everything else that makes life uncomfortable, swallowing whatever sweet words Neil whispers in her ear because it's simple.
That is her life now. Maureen looks at Max in the rear view mirror and her chest feels too tight to breathe. She can't remember the last time she saw her laugh. And she has no idea how she can change that. How she can fit in this new life without spices, less sun and the need to always brace for the monster to bite. Why couldn't they have just stayed in California?