chapter one:
❛ letters ❜

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Dear Freckles,

Today is day 185. I know, that was you and El's thing, but I've been counting down the days I see you again. And I know, I know, you're gonna say "Scar, stop talking about El. It's just you and me." Like you've been saying. But it has felt like ten years since I last saw you.

Since we last talked, my dad still hasn't come home. I don't think he's coming back. He's a shitty dad, but I wish he could be a better dad. It's okay, my mom and her new husband, Bob—Ironic? I kind of have chills sometimes thinking about the other Bob—are very welcoming. They don't hit me or throw chairs at me.

My school counselor has been up my ass about my grades, but my mom has been very understanding. She understands how I'm far away from my friends now and I lost my brother.

On the topic of Billy, yes, I'm still having nightmares about him...I'm starting to have random nose bleeds too. I think it's just my body adjusting to not having me use my powers since they're gone now.

I've told my mom about my powers and the truth—about everything. Honestly, she was super chill and she knew something has been up. She even brought me out to the woods and had me scream and see if I can electrocute a tree or the powerlines—but nothing.

I really miss my powers, Mike. I don't even know how Eleven is handling it so well. But my powers has been such a big part of me. I haven't even felt angry in so long—which my powers made me quick to get mad. And...I'm so calm now...or I just am depressed.

And yes, Freckles. I have been taking my depression medication.

I finally got my last name changed in the school system. I'm now Scarlett Harris. I didn't want people to keep asking me about Billy...

Anyways, I was supposed to make a visual aid for my History assignment. Eleven made one of Hopper and the Cabin. For mine...If I be honest, I didn't make one. Mrs. Gracey has already given me an extension and this was my last chance. But I didn't do it. I didn't know what I could make the visual aid on.

Will has been painting a lot. I have been trying to see what it is, but he keeps pushing me out of his room whenever I'm over. So I'm guessing for it's a girl—or yet, could be for a boy.

Okay, that's it. I'll see you tomorrow, Freckles. I love you.

Love,
Scarlett <3

•••

Dear Max,

I hope everything is well. I miss you, sis. I really really miss you. I wish I could come down for spring break and see you—or you could come. But we're tight on money right now to buy you a ticket to come down with Mike.

I'm still having the nightmares too. Mr. Bandler has been no help. And I guess from your recent letter, Ms. Kelly hasn't either. What's with these counselors? Are they up to something? Do they know each other

I don't know. I don't trust anyone anymore. I still have this feeling the Mind Flayer is gonna come back. And I can only admit that to you because we're both having the same nightmare for the last week.

I love you and tell Mike that I love him. I'm worried because he never says I love you back in the letters? Am I overthinking?

Love,
Your sister
Scarlett Harris

•••

Scarlett's body jerked awake from the nightmare. Her skin was clammy with sweat, and her heart was pounding in her chest as she gasped for air. The image of Billy—those damned tentacles piercing his torso—lingered in her mind, too vivid to shake. She could still hear the echo of her own voice, raw and desperate, screaming his name alongside Max. The weight of the memory pressed down on her chest, making it hard to breathe.

"Scarlett!"

Her mother's voice cut through the fog of her panic, yanking her fully into the present. Scarlett blinked, squinting as she looked toward the doorway. "Mom?" she croaked, her voice rough with sleep.

Carrie's concerned face peeked through the door. "Scarlett, sugar, you're late. Again."

The words hit her like a bucket of cold water, and Scarlett shot up from her bed, eyes wide with panic. "Shit!" she hissed, scrambling out of the tangled mess of her sheets. In her frantic rush to get moving, she tripped over a pile of discarded clothes on the floor, barely catching herself before face-planting. "Dammit..."

Carrie leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching her daughter with a mixture of concern and frustration. "Scarlett, are you sure you don't want me to homeschool you? I'm getting super worried about you. You're falling behind in everything."

Scarlett, already halfway through rifling through her closet for something to wear, barely acknowledged her mother's words. "Mom, it's fine," she mumbled, her voice clipped, as she yanked a random shirt from a hanger. Her hands were shaking as she pulled it over her head, the familiar anxiety creeping back in. She didn't even bother to glance in Carrie's direction, too focused on her growing list of worries. School. Billy. The nightmares. Everything was piling up, and she had no idea how to make it stop.

Carrie sighed, but she didn't move from the doorway. "Scarlett, sugar, you're failing almost all your classes. You're going to get held back. I got a letter from the school."

The words made Scarlett freeze in place. Slowly, she turned to face her mother, her breath catching in her throat. "What?" she said, barely above a whisper.

Carrie's expression softened as she held up a folded piece of paper. Scarlett's heart sank, a gnawing sense of dread forming in her stomach. She reached out, snatching the letter from her mother's hand and unfolding it with trembling fingers.

Parents/Guardians of Scarlett Harris, I regret to inform you that due to your child's academic performance this year, she will be repeating Ninth Grade the next school year.

Scarlett's eyes darted over the words, her heart pounding louder in her ears with each sentence. She read it again, hoping that maybe, just maybe, she'd misread it the first time. But the words stayed the same, unchanging and damning.

Carrie's voice was soft, but firm. "Scarlett, I know you don't want to talk about this, but homeschooling might be the best option for you. You're struggling, and you're not keeping up with—"

"I don't need homeschooling!" Scarlett snapped, her voice harsher than she intended. The tension had been building inside her for months, and now it felt like it was about to burst. "I just... I don't know. I need time. That's all."

Carrie frowned, her concern deepening. "Sugar, you've been saying that for months now. And this letter? It's serious. If we don't do something, you'll be repeating ninth grade."

Scarlett shook her head, frustration boiling over. "We can talk about this later, okay? I need to get ready for school." She shoved the letter into her backpack, not wanting to look at it any longer. The very sight of it made her feel like a failure, like she was letting everyone down. Like she was letting Billy down.

Carrie sighed again, but she didn't push further. "Alright. I'll be waiting in the car. Please don't take too long."

"Yeah, I won't," Scarlett muttered, already turning back to her closet to pull on the rest of her clothes.

As Carrie left the room, Scarlett stood still for a moment, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her mind was racing—thoughts of school, Billy, her mom's constant hovering. Everything felt like it was spiraling out of control, and she didn't know how to fix it. The nightmares, the constant reminders of Billy's death, the guilt she couldn't shake—it all weighed on her more than she could admit.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus. She didn't have time to fall apart right now. She pulled on her jeans and slipped on her sneakers, grabbing her bag and heading downstairs.

In the kitchen, Bob—her mom's husband—was leaning against the counter, sipping his morning coffee. He gave her a cheerful smile when she entered. "Morning, Scarlett."

Scarlett barely looked at him as she mumbled, "Morning," in return. She didn't dislike Bob—not really. He was kind enough, always trying to make small talk with her. But every time she heard his name—*Bob*—it sent a jolt of pain through her chest, a reminder of the Bob she couldn't save. Bob Newby, who died two years ago because she hadn't been fast enough, hadn't been strong enough. The guilt twisted inside her, making it hard to even be around her stepfather.

Bob seemed to sense her mood, and he didn't push for further conversation. "Your mom's already in the car, just so you know."

"Yeah, I know," Scarlett replied, grabbing an apple from the counter and heading toward the front door without another word. She could feel Bob's eyes on her as she left, but she didn't turn back. She couldn't.

Outside, Carrie was sitting in the driver's seat, the engine already running. Scarlett climbed into the passenger seat, tossing her bag into the back as she buckled her seatbelt.

The silence between them was thick with unspoken tension as Carrie pulled out of the driveway. Scarlett stared out the window, her mind still reeling from the letter, from the nightmare, from everything. She wasn't ready for another day of pretending everything was fine. But what other choice did she have?

Scarlett's day started on the wrong foot, and by the time she arrived at school, she already knew it wasn't going to get any better. She waved half-heartedly at her mom before trudging inside, tugging her jacket tighter against her as if it could protect her from the inevitable confrontation. The school doors felt heavier than usual, and the second she stepped through them, she saw him—Mr. Bandler, the school counselor, waiting just inside the entrance like a predator lying in wait.

"Miss Hargrove," he called out, his tone as dry as ever. "Let's talk in my office."

Scarlett immediately felt a surge of irritation. The sound of her old last name felt like a slap in the face. Gritting her teeth, she turned to him, her voice sharp. "It's Scarlett *Harris* now, Mr. Bandler." She added a hard emphasis on her new last name, as if that could erase everything that had come before it.

"Got it," Mr. Bandler replied, unfazed by her frustration, though his tone lacked sincerity.

Scarlett followed him reluctantly to his office, dragging her feet as they passed the dull, beige walls of the school. Each step felt like a countdown to another pointless conversation. Once inside, she slumped into the chair across from him, barely glancing around the room. It was the same as always—drab, impersonal, and suffocatingly quiet. She hated it here. Mr. Bandler was supposed to help her, but every time they talked, it felt like he was going through the motions, ticking boxes without really understanding.

Without waiting for him to speak, Scarlett pulled out her cassette player and slipped on her headphones, turning the volume up until Crazy for You by Madonna drowned out everything around her. She closed her eyes, retreating into the music.

"Miss Harris, take those off," Mr. Bandler's voice cut through the music, but Scarlett ignored him, staring at the ceiling and letting the song wrap around her like a shield.

"Can't hear you!" she shouted back with a smirk, her voice tinged with defiance.

Mr. Bandler's face tightened, and his tone sharpened. "Take those off," he snapped, this time with more force.

With an exaggerated sigh, Scarlett rolled her eyes, yanking the headphones down around her neck. She tapped her foot impatiently on the floor, her fingers still playing with the wires of the headphones.

Mr. Bandler watched her for a moment, his expression a mix of frustration and resignation. He shuffled through the papers on his desk, pulling up her latest report card. "Let's see," he began, his voice monotone as he read out her grades. "A D in ASL, a C in English, an F in American Studies, a D in Earth Science..."

"I get it," Scarlett snapped, her voice dripping with annoyance. She already knew where this conversation was going, and she didn't have the patience for it.

Mr. Bandler sighed, setting the papers down. "You're being held back next year, Scarlett," he reminded her, though she could tell by his tone that he was expecting her to brush it off, just like every other time they had this talk.

Scarlett rolled her eyes again, crossing her arms over her chest. "I know. Can I go now?"

But Mr. Bandler wasn't finished. He leaned forward slightly, folding his hands together as he gave her a concerned look. "Is your dad back?" he asked, his voice softer now, as if that would coax something out of her.

Scarlett's jaw clenched. The mention of her dad always brought out an anger she couldn't fully control. She stared down at the floor, twisting the wires from her headphones between her fingers. "No," she muttered, her voice barely audible. The mere thought of him made her blood boil.

"Are you settling in with your mom?" he asked, his tone gentle but probing, as though he thought he could get her to open up if he kept poking at her fragile state.

"Yes," Scarlett said sharply. "She's better than my dad," she added, spitting the words out like poison.

Mr. Bandler paused, clearly considering his next question. "Have you talked to Max recently?"

Scarlett could feel the pressure building inside her. Why did everyone keep asking about Max? "Yes," she snapped, glaring at him. "What's with all these questions?"

Mr. Bandler sighed again, leaning back in his chair. "Scarlett, if you keep missing school, we're going to need to take your mom to court. You've missed over 50 days this school year. You're failing, and—"

"I know, okay?" Scarlett's voice shook with anger as she cut him off, her frustration bubbling over. Her leg bounced anxiously under the desk, and without realizing it, the lights in the room began to flicker. Her eyes glinted with the faintest hint of blue electricity. "But I don't want to go back to my dad! He hit me with a chair!" Her voice cracked with the weight of her emotions, and she barely noticed the small burst of electricity that shot from her fingertips, causing the lamp behind Mr. Bandler to flicker violently before the bulb burst with a loud pop.

Scarlett blinked in shock, her heart racing. Are my powers coming back? The thought sent a wave of panic through her, but there was also a strange sense of relief.

Mr. Bandler's eyes widened slightly, but he recovered quickly, his voice steady. "Miss Harris—"

But Scarlett was already standing, her anger boiling over. "My mom is the best. I wish she would move to Hawkins because I'd rather be anywhere but here. I want to be with my sister and my boyfriend," she spat, her voice shaking with raw emotion.

Mr. Bandler looked at her, his expression softening. "You have friends here, Scarlett."

"Will and Jane?" Scarlett let out a bitter laugh. "Will barely even talks to me anymore! Ever since I started dating Mike, he's been so awkward around me! And Jane—" she stopped, her voice catching in her throat. She didn't want to say it out loud, but the truth was gnawing at her. "We're cool now, but she's in love with my boyfriend!"

Her chest heaved as she tried to control her emotions, but it was too much. Without another word, she turned and stormed out of the office, tears burning in her eyes.

She was so caught up in her own turmoil that she didn't notice the person in front of her until she collided with them. Scarlett stumbled back, blinking away the tears, and looked up to see Harvey Russo, Will's new friend. His eyes widened in surprise.

"Sorry, Harvey," Scarlett muttered, pulling her headphones back down around her neck, her voice hoarse.

"It's o-okay, Scarlett," Harvey stammered, his cheeks flushing slightly as he smiled awkwardly.

Scarlett gave him a small, forced smile before slipping her headphones back on, the familiar notes of Crazy for You drowning out the world once again. She didn't stop to look back, but her heart was racing, and the flickering lights in the hallway told her something was happening.

Scarlett adjusted her headphones as Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Tears for Fears blasted through her ears. The rhythm of the song matched her quick steps as she made her way across the school courtyard. The music drowned out the noise around her, but when she heard a burst of cruel laughter, she instinctively turned her head. Her eyes caught sight of Eleven—or Jane, as she was known at school—standing alone, her face crumpled in sadness, her arm extended out toward the remnants of a project scattered across the ground.

Scarlett's heart clenched, and without thinking, she sprinted forward. "El—Jane!" she called out, pushing through the crowd of onlookers who were standing around as though watching some kind of cruel spectacle. She didn't even notice the large part of the broken project lying in her path until it was too late. Scarlett tripped and stumbled forward, her body crashing into what was left of Jane's work.

The laughter around them only intensified, cruel and mocking. Scarlett's eyes flashed with anger as she tried to pick herself up. She turned her head and saw Angela, the smug girl who had been bullying El all year, standing at the center of the crowd, laughing the loudest.

Scarlett's blood boiled, and her hands clenched into fists. "What the hell is your problem, Angela?" Scarlett snapped, her voice shaking with rage. The sudden outburst sent a ripple of shock through the crowd. No one ever stood up to Angela, not like this.

Angela smirked, tossing her hair back with exaggerated confidence. "What's my problem? What's your problem, freak?" she shot back, her voice dripping with venom. "You walk around this school with the lights flickering every time you go by. It's like you're possessed or something." She sneered, her gaze daring Scarlett to respond.

Scarlett didn't realize it, but the street lamps nearby were indeed flickering. Her anger was bubbling over, and her body was reacting. "You fucking bitch," Scarlett growled, taking a step forward. Her fist swung before she could even think about it, her hand crackling with a faint shimmer of electricity.

Just as her fist came close to Angela, Mrs. Gracey came barreling through the crowd, grabbing Scarlett by the wrist. But the moment she touched Scarlett's arm, a sharp jolt of electricity surged through her, causing Mrs. Gracey to jerk back in surprise. Scarlett's nose started to bleed, and she could feel the tension of her powers building inside her.

Her eyes flicked over to Eleven, who was watching with a mixture of shock and concern. Scarlett gave her a brief look, a shared moment of understanding between the two. My powers are coming back, she realized with a mix of fear and excitement. But she also knew that El's powers were still gone.

"What's going on here?" Mrs. Gracey demanded, her voice stern and authoritative as she tried to regain control of the situation.

Angela, ever the opportunist, pouted her lips dramatically. "Scarlett broke Jane's project, Mrs. Gracey," she said, feigning innocence. "And then she tried to punch me."

Scarlett's jaw dropped in disbelief. "What?! It was Angela!" she yelled, pointing at her, but it was too late.

"Miss Hargrove!" Mrs. Gracey barked, her face flushed with anger. "Principal's office. Now!"

Scarlett looked around at the watching students, their laughter bubbling up again as they watched her humiliation unfold. She felt a flare of embarrassment and rage, her powers simmering just beneath the surface, but she bit her tongue. For now.

Scarlett found herself being dragged down the hallway by Mrs. Gracey, her wrist still tingling from the jolt of electricity earlier. By the time they reached the principal's office, she could feel her heart racing, her anger boiling over. Inside, Principal Harris sat at his desk, frowning as Mrs. Gracey launched into a detailed report of what had happened.

"Scarlett tried to punch another student, and she disrupted the entire courtyard," Mrs. Gracey said, shaking her head in disapproval.

Scarlett couldn't stay quiet any longer. "That's not what happened! Angela's been bullying El all year! I was defending her!" she protested, her voice cracking with frustration.

Principal Harris raised a hand to silence her. "That may be, Scarlett, but you can't resort to violence. We don't tolerate that here." His tone was calm, but his words stung.

Scarlett clenched her fists in her lap, her whole body tense. "But it wasn't my fault! Angela's the one who started it!" she argued, trying to make them see reason, but her words fell on deaf ears.

"Scarlett," Principal Harris said sternly, "you'll be serving in-school suspension when you get back from spring break. You need to get your anger under control."

The words hit Scarlett like a punch to the gut, and the lights in the room flickered ominously. Before anyone could react, the glass bulbs shattered, raining shards down around them. Scarlett gasped, her nose bleeding again as she realized her powers had surged out of control.

Principal Harris stared at the broken lights in confusion, and Mrs. Gracey was rubbing her wrist, looking bewildered. Just then, the door to the office flew open, and Scarlett's mom, Carrie, stormed in, her face red with fury.

"What's going on here?!" Carrie demanded, her eyes narrowing at the sight of Scarlett sitting there, glass scattered all over the floor.

Principal Harris tried to compose himself, still stunned by the shattered lights. "Mrs. Harris, your daughter—"

But Carrie wasn't having it. "My daughter what? Defended a friend? Is that what you're punishing her for?" she snapped, her voice rising. "You think it's okay for bullies to get away with everything while Scarlett's the one who gets blamed?"

Principal Harris stammered, still processing the chaos. "But the lights—" he began, gesturing to the glass on the floor.

Carrie's eyes flashed with anger. "What about the lights? You think that's her fault too? You better get your facts straight before you start handing out punishments."

Scarlett sat quietly, her heart still racing as she watched her mom tear into the principal. Part of her felt guilty, but another part of her was relieved. She didn't want to be here anymore. When Carrie was done yelling, she grabbed Scarlett by the arm and pulled her out of the office.

In the car, the tension between Scarlett and her mom was palpable. Carrie finally glanced over, her anger softening into concern. "What happened, Scarlett?"

Scarlett took a deep breath, trying to steady her thoughts. "It was El... she's still struggling, and Angela won't leave her alone. I couldn't just stand there and do nothing."

Carrie nodded, her eyes softening with understanding. "And the lights?"

Scarlett hesitated, then sighed. "I think... my powers are coming back. Slowly. The lights flickered, and I could feel the electricity in my fingers."

Carrie's face turned serious. "Are you sure?"

Scarlett nodded. "Yeah. And it's getting harder to control it."

Carrie sighed deeply, running a hand through her hair. "Okay. We'll figure this out. But first, let's get you home."

Scarlett leaned back in her seat, a heavy weight still pressing on her chest. She had no idea what was going to happen next, but for the first time in a long while, she wasn't alone.

ASH SPEAKS!

NEW GIF!

also spiderman 4 director is finally announced and im so happy!! please check out my spiderman fic "bad chem"!!

mike and scar reunion next chapter!! no max and scarlett this season until the very end :(

PLEASE DONT BE A GHOST READER!! IT HELPS US WRITERS STAY MOTIVATED:)

INTRODUCING...

griffin santepetrio | harvey cruz