CHAPTER TWO
PHONE CALL

        Dawn came quickly with a mixture of pink and orange, and along with the sun, arose Alex Harrington. She supposed she was what some would call a morning person. She had always enjoyed the hours before the rest of the town would awaken, where she could still hear the sounds of the birds in the woods behind the house before they were drowned out by the engines of cars. Alex would sit out on the porch steps with a mug of tea and a blanket around her shoulders, her breath puffing in clouds from between chapped lips as she watched the rest of the town rise from their deep slumber. Steam, warm and billowing, rose from the star-decorated mug held securely in her hands. The heat of the mug scorched her rough and calloused fingertips, turning them a gentle, rosy red, but despite the small sting of the heat, Alex continued, to clutch the mug as if it were her lifeline. After all, red fingertips were nothing compared to the myriad of scars that decorated her body. The tea, when the mug was still filled almost to the brim, just enough so the liquid would not overspill, had scorched the tip of her tongue, still too warm, but Alex paid no mind.

The mug was halfway finished, the sides marked where the tea once sat when the front door opened and Steve, hair pointing in all directions, still in his pajamas, emerged from the warmth of the house. The house stood tall — two stories high — on the outskirts of town, just beyond the forest where Alex spent the majority of her childhood. Both Steve and Alex had been raised within the sturdy walls of the Harrington house — never home, as Alex had always made sure to clarify. No, the Harrington house would never be a home to Alex, not when the halls were often dim and the atmosphere silent; not when it always seemed to be cold, no matter how many blankets she nestled under; not when the house was almost always inexplicably, inevitably empty despite the two bright souls who occupied the bedrooms. Alex tried to think back to a time before the empty feeling she carried around in her whenever she traipsed through the halls before her parents' bedroom was more often than not empty.

"Morning, jerk," Alex hummed.

"Morning, bitch," comes Steve's response.  "Move over."

Alex complied and shifted to her right, careful to keep the soft blanket around her shoulders and mug clasped in her hands. He took a seat on the stairs beside her, staring out into the vast driveway before them, thoughtfully chewing a piece of bacon. "Hey, thanks for the bacon. And the eggs."

"Yeah, of course," Alex answered with a soft smile, leaning on Steve slightly. The events of the previous night were seemingly behind them, almost as if an unspoken agreement had formed between them. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I miss them — mom and dad."

Steve emitted a loud sigh, his shoulder sagging slightly. "I do too, sometimes."

The phone rang then, breaking through the soft serenity that had settled upon the Harrington siblings. Alex let out a groan, glancing into her now empty mug. "I'll get it."

She pushed herself off of the stairs, leaving the blanket where she had been seated, and flounced into the house where the phone rang relentlessly. A small part of her hoped, with growing excitement as she reached for the device that it was their parents calling to inform them that they were to be coming home earlier than expected. She noticed her hands shaking in the slightest bit of excitement as she answered the phone.

"Hello?"

"Um, hi, is this Alex Harrington?"

Alex frowned. "Uh, yes."

"Well, this is Joyce Byers, Will's mom. He didn't come home last night — at least not to my knowledge — and I know that he's your friend, and your house is right on the way to ours and I was just wondering by any chance if he ended up staying the night at your place." Said the frantic voice on the other end.

"I'm, sorry, Ms. Byers," Alex apologized with a sinking feeling in her gut. "I didn't see him at all last night. Maybe he just went to school early."

"Yeah . . . yeah," Joyce answered. "I'm sure that's just what happened. Um, thank you, Alex."

"You're welcome," Alex responded. "Um, Ms. Byers?"

"Yes?"

"I hope you find him."

"I hope so too."

By the time Alex hung the white phone (not the best design choice, especially when it was behind handled by a little girl who almost always had her hands stained with dirt, but her mother had insisted upon it) back in its holder, Steve had reentered the house. The blanket was now wrapped around his shoulders, his hair seemed to be smoothed down now, no doubt from endlessly running his fingers through it.

"Who was that?" Steve wondered.

"It was Joyce Byers — Will's mom."

"What did she want?"

"She says Will didn't come home last night — at least not to her knowledge — and because our house is on the way to theirs, she wanted to check and see if he ended up staying the night," Alex informed him.

"Does she know that you two aren't really friends?" Steve asked.

Alex merely shrugged in response. She knew that Joyce was desperate to find one of the people that anchored her.  After all, she was scared.  She would try anything and everything no matter how improbable if it meant finding her son.

. . .

Some things no matter how much time passes remain the same; the earth still revolves around the sun and the moon revolves around the earth, the skies are still blue, caterpillars still evolve into butterflies, and the Harrington siblings still abide by Steve's rule of 'the driver picks the music, shotgun shuts her cakehole'. The drive to Hawkins Middle school was sullen, and even the voice of Freddie Mercury did nothing to lighten the mood which had been dampened by some sort of sorrow that neither of the siblings could place; was it perhaps the cavities that only seemed to grow wider and more painful the longer that the absent members of their once sat were departed? Or perhaps the prospect that Will Byers was missing, taken away from a town so small and innocent. Alex's somber mood did not change as she stepped out of the car, turning to watch as Steve drove off in the direction of the high school, wishing that her brother would turn back and rescue her from the building of brick and stone capable of striking such fear within her.

She had always spent her school days alone, away from the rest of the students. Her mere presence often caused kids to scatter as quickly as they could for fear of being in her warpath. People only saw what was on the surface, they saw the myriad of scars and bruises, the purple crescents forming under the eyes, they saw the set jaw and hardened glare, they saw an angry girl fueled by an ungodly amount of rage. They didn't care to peel back the hardened exterior enough to see that Alex was still a person, capable of mistakes and emotions just as they were. They refused to see that she was just as delicate as the rest of humanity; that if the world were to go up in flames, she too would burn along with it. Alex Harrington wasn't a spectacle to be feared, she was just another person going down the path of life.

As she fought through the surge of students, ignoring outraged cries of pain, but not caring enough to apologize, she took notice of Troy Walsh and James Dante. Both two years older than Alex at fourteen, they took it upon themselves to feast upon the weakest prey of Hawkins for nothing other than their own sadistic enjoyment. Once, Alex had been at the receiving end of their jeers, but each time she fought back with tooth and nail, delivering a scathing come-back whenever they attempted to hurt her with their taunts until finally, she could no longer keep her rage bottled up within her. The fiery, burning sensation that she had come to know as the almost comforting feeling of pure rage had rushed through her veins, and she had let go of any inhibitions she had when she launched herself at James, her curled fist flying straight for his nose. She remembered the rush of blood that had flowed from his nose then as he staggered back, she remembered the loud, guttural cry of pain that had escaped from the back of his throat, and most of all, she remembered the immense feeling of satisfaction and the smirk that had spread across her face.

After moving on from Alex, they had focused all of their attention terrorizing the boys that made up the Audio-Visual Club. They had cornered Mike Wheeler, Dustin Henderson, and Lucas Sinclair, fellow classmates of Alex and best friends of Will near the bike racks and had lined them up as if they were items behind a shop window. She noticed with a sinking feeling that Will was not among the group and she tried to suppress the sense of foreboding that had quickly started to crawl up her spine.

Despite Mike Wheeler being the younger brother of Steve's girlfriend, Nancy, she had never been particularly close friends with him. They were like water and oil when they clashed together; Alex had always been bark and bite, she seethed and ranted and raved until there was nothing good in the world.  Mike, however, had always been more conditioned, still wild and unruly, but never so angry, he was full of bright, delicate optimism, and unyielding loyalty to his friends.  They both held some resentment against their siblings dating, something that maybe, had it been a different reality, they would have bonded over.  Instead, they used this inner turmoil against each other. 

You see, Alex knew that Nancy Wheeler was a nice girl, but she also knew that Nancy would only leave Steve heartbroken and in the dust.  Girls like Nancy go places.  Boys like Steve will only get left behind with their potential in shambles around them.  Boys like Steve will only ruin girls like Nancy. 

Lucas Sinclair and Dustin Henderson had been slightly less passive than Mike. They would nod to one another in greeting for time-to-time, Dustin would always have an extra pencil ready for her during English when she found that she had been scribbling away at her notes too furiously, and Lucas had worked out an eraser-sharing system with Alex in history. But she recognized the fear in their eyes whenever they made eye contact, the way that they would dart away the moment she met their gazes, hoping, praying that Alex Harrington would not unleash her rage upon them. Will seemed to be the most comfortable around Alex; he was always willing to greet her with a smile and a simple, check-in. As much as she hated to admit it, Alex had grown to find a friend in Will Byers; he had always been well-meaning, there were no ulterior motives in his interactions with Alex, he had always been so genuine, and that's what had drawn Alex to him.

They weren't her friends, no not really. They did nice things, they made an effort to look in her direction, but they didn't make an effort to know her, but she didn't care enough to know them. So why did she care so much now?

Why did the sight of Troy and James suddenly fill her with such overwhelming anger; she had seen this before, she had walked past without a second glance. Perhaps it was the weight of Will's absence that tugged on her heartstrings. She found herself stalking over to the A.V. Club and Troy and James who far too busy guffawing and retching as Dustin stretched his arms out in front of him with a few pops and didn't notice her stealthy advance until it was far too late.

"Oh, gets me every time!" Troy exclaimed, placing a mocking hand over his heart.

"Hey, tweedle-dee, tweedle-dum," Alex called.

Her arms were crossed tightly across her chest, her jaw was set, and a slight glare had formed on her face. Troy and James both whirled around to face her, identical annoyed expressions on their faces. The boys towered over Alex's scrawny and lanky stature, they could easily overpower her if they tried, regardless of how much anger-fueled Alex; anger only went so far. And yet ever since the day she had snapped James' nose, they had the same look of fear flash through their eyes as everybody else.  Maybe it was because of the rule that had been instated on the playground long before, the unspoken rule that said Alex Harrington doesn't lose fights.

"Aren't you getting tired of picking on the same losers every day?  What?  Do you only stoop so low because you know that you're no match for anybody else?" Alex shrugged. "Besides, I know exactly how to deal with these losers, so unless you want a repeat of last year, I'd suggest you scram."

James opened his mouth to rebuke, but Troy grabbed him by the arm and started to lead him away. "Whatever, let's just go, James. We were done with them anyway." Alex held up her middle finger to Troy's and James' backs as the bullies retreated into the school building, her lip curled.  They'll be back, though, she knew that.  Boys didn't like it when girls wounded their pride.  She knew that they would come for her, but she would be ready.  And she wanted to revel in her small victory.

"We didn't need your help," Mike grumbled, snapping her attention to the boys in front of her. Lucas and Dustin both looked slightly amazed, but Mike had a stormy expression on his face.

"Really, because it didn't look like that a few seconds ago," Alex responded evenly. "Whatever, I don't need your thanks." She pushed through the boys but turned back to face them. "And Henderson?"

"Yeah?" Dustin responded quickly, his voice touched with a bit of fear.

"For what it's worth, the shoulder thing — I think it's cool."

She turned on her heel and bounded into the school building, feeling as if weight had been lifted off of her shoulders.

ミ★ author's note!
hey it's been a while and this chapter was complete garbage, i'm sorry.  i'm awful at coming up with and writing insults and honestly, i don't know if it's even realistic for troy and james to be scared of alex, but then again she did break james' nose, so ... maybe?  but hey i'm in a stranger things mood again, so hopefully i'll be making more progress on this and my other st fics