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chapter two

"I NEED YOU TO DO MY ART PROJECT," Diana's little sister, Erica, said as she barged into Di's room. The older girl gave her sister a blank look, tearing a sheet of paper from her sketch book.

Diana held the pencil marked paper out to her. "Here," she said quietly, turning away, and back to her notebook when Erica took it. She'd already finished it, like the good sister she was.

Erica let out a small thank you, shutting her sister's door. Diana knew the girl was probably more surprised that she'd done it, than about her knowing to do it without being asked.

In all honesty, Diana had time on her hands. She hadn't even went to school that day, still recovering from what she'd seen. She'd spent a week last year, hidden under her covers after seeing the things that went on in that monstrous lab. She never fell behind in school though, for obvious reasons.

She didn't always have to see something. Like, she knew for a fact Steve Harrington would be knocking on her door in about five minutes from pure intuition.

Diana made her way to the front door, throwing it wide open. Steve's hand was in mid air, poised to knock. "What a surprise," she said blandly.

He quickly hid his look of shock behind his usual blasé expression. "You don't sound surprised."

She sighed. "What do you need Harrington?"

"I want to talk," Steve said with a frown.

"You don't say." Her words dripped with sarcasm.

He ignored that. "Can you come out for a second—or I can come in—"

Diana moved outside, closing the door behind herself. "Hurry, I don't want to catch a cold." Steve paused, seeming to take in her thin t-shirt, before beginning to shrug off his jacket. Di lifted a hand to stop him. "No need." She gestured for him to begin speaking.

"I just wanted to see if you were OK after last night," he said quietly, looking briefly to his well-worn shoes.

He was nervous and she'd never thought he could be.

"I'm fine, thanks for asking," she replied, her words genuine. There was a slightly uncomfortable silence between them for a few moments.

"Are you a witch or something?" He asked suddenly, scratching his head. "Did you come from that lab?"

"No," she replied, trying to sound indifferent.

Steve tilted his head. "No to which part?" He seemed genuinely curious.

She leaned onto the door. "All of it, Steve Harrington."

The boy raised his eyebrows. "So can you tell me what happened?"

"I think you already know what happened," she told him in an evasive way. "Whether or not you believe it is up to you."

"This is all a little strange, don't you think," Steve asked.

"You would know—" Diana stopped abruptly, standing up straight as a chill ran down her spine. Her eyes glossed over. "Something's wrong." She allowed her thoughts to align and that's when it started. She was shown an old sketch of hers. Diana didn't even flinch at the pain.

Steve cleared his throat. "With you?" She didn't answer him, as she turned around, rushing into her home.

"Close the door behind you," she told him, intentionally inviting him inside. He's underwater, he's underwater, her mind kept screaming at her. Diana had never felt anything like this before. "He's underwater." She whispered the words to herself, going upstairs and looking through a stack of her sketches from the past few months until she found what she was looking for. She jogged back to where a confused Steve was standing. "Look at this."

Di shoved piece of paper into his hands. "Ok. This is... terrifying. Did you—did you draw this?" His hair flopped into his face, and Diana almost caught her self admiring it.

Instead, she glanced down at the paper. It was a face. Half joyful, half horrified. In actuality, it was anything but symmetrical. There was more horror than joy, and the joyous side seemed a little strained. "He's underwater."

He furrowed his brows. "Am I supposed to understand?"

"This is Will Byers," she said, pointing at the picture.

Steve hummed, studying the picture. He twisted it to a different angle and squinted one eye. "Yeah, I don't see it."

"That's because when I drew it, I didn't know it was him," she explained, refraining from rolling her eyes. "Will's underwater. He's here." She pointed to the darkened side of the picture.

Steve shrugged, the sleeve of his grey jacket falling. "Or he's in a pool or something."

"It's November you moron." She'd never spoken to anyone like this, no matter how much she wanted to.

"A bathtub then," Steve suggested. "Look there's no way he's back there. You're crazy."

Diana scoffed. She didn't need this. "Out." She pointed at her door. "Go."

"Diana wait," he said backing up. He sounded apologetic. She moved toward him as he opened the door.

Crazy? she thought. Crazy?

"I'm crazy, but you're the one still in love with a girl who, frankly, doesn't feel the same way," she let out angrily, but she didn't have a right. The boy didn't understand her, and she didn't understand him. She needed to stop throwing words around like that, especially when they were none of her business.

"Hey, you don't know me," he said pointing at her. His brown eyes flashed with anger.

"And you don't know me."

"And why is that?" He asked, sounding less angry. Was he asking why they weren't friends?

"Because you're a jerk." Diana narrowed her eyes. "Because I'm too weird for human connection," she quoted. She'd heard those words from him with her own two ears, and it'd made her sixteen year old self want to cry and never stop, but she'd grown out of that.

His eyes were wide, and he didn't try to deny her blatant call out. "You heard that?"

"I hear it all, now go." Diana practically pushed him onto her porch.

She'd done it again. She couldn't seem to keep her true self under locks around him, and that was hardly a good thing for people who didn't understand. No one understood, except for Lucas and sometimes he couldn't grasp the seriousness of it all. Not like the woman, who'd taught her everything she knew.

Diana slammed the door in his face. "Diana, I told you to stop slamming doors in my house," her mother reprimanded from upstairs.

"Sorry." She opened it again to see that Steve was still there.

"You forgot your drawing," he said softly, holding it out to her.

She took it from him. "Let's pretend this didn't happen."

"Agreed."

But she wouldn't be forgetting anything, especially when she needed to help Will.

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that was odd.

-syd