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TW: MENTIONS OF UNDERAGE DRINKING

{November 1982}

ISADORA JONES WAS FURIOUS.

To say she had been angry over the last few months would be an understatement, but this time, her fury was directed squarely at her mother, who had made the abrupt decision to uproot their lives and move to Hawkins, Indiana—the town where she had spent her own childhood. It felt like a cruel twist of fate to Isadora, who had spent years carving out a life for herself in Santa Monica, surrounded by sun, surf, and friends who truly understood her. As she hurled a stack of books into a nearby box, her childhood best friend, Daniel Miller, narrowly dodged the flying tomes, leaping back just in time to avoid a hit.

"Isadora, I get that you're upset, but could you please stop slamming things around?" Daniel pleaded, his voice strained as he tried to maintain his balance amidst the chaos.

"Why are you even here?" Isadora shot back, pausing her packing to glare at him. He folded his arms across his chest, cautiously observing her, unsure of how to approach the brewing storm.

"I came to help you pack, Dory," Daniel finally admitted, earning a scoff from Isadora as she stalked back to her bookshelf for more books. She felt a sense of resentment bubbling up inside her; it was as if Daniel were an unwelcome reminder of everything she was losing.

"Yeah, right. I'm sure that has nothing to do with my mom asking you to come check on me," Isadora retorted, her tone dripping with sarcasm. Daniel hesitated, wanting to tell her that everyone was concerned for her well-being, but he feared she would lash out if he said too much. Still, he knew she needed to hear the truth.

"Dory, I just want to make sure you're okay. I know you've been going through a lot, but you haven't been yourself lately. Honestly, you've been acting like a—well, kind of a bitch," Daniel said hesitantly, his voice barely above a whisper. Almost immediately, Isadora dropped the books she had been holding and spun to face him, her eyes blazing with anger.

"Stop telling me I'm a bitch! That's all you've done lately! If I'm such an awful person to be around, why the hell are you still here?" she snapped, her voice echoing in the small room, making her feel even more isolated.

"Because I don't want to see you lose everyone who cares about you, Isadora. Can't you see that right now you have no one except me? If you keep this up, you'll drive everyone away," Daniel told her, his expression softening as he stepped closer.

"I have friends, Daniel," Isadora insisted, though her voice lacked conviction, and she felt a familiar emptiness wash over her.

"Who? Your so-called friends who ditched you when you got into trouble with the cops? Or the 'best friend' who slept with your asshole boyfriend while you were still together? Those friends?" he countered, his frustration boiling over, and she could feel the weight of his words pressing down on her.

"You don't know anything, so stop pretending like you do! Why don't you just go back to your happy little life and stay the hell out of mine?" Isadora yelled, her face flushed with emotion, and she could feel tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

"None of us who care about you even recognise you anymore, Dory. Katie doesn't want to be around you because of who you've become, and right now, I don't even know if I want to be here. I care about you, Isadora, but you've made it clear you want us out of your life. I guess you got your wish," Daniel said, his voice heavy with disappointment as he turned to leave.

Isadora watched him go, feeling a mix of anger and despair. The door slammed behind him, and a few tears slipped down her cheeks, warming her skin as she shoved the remaining books into a box, her heart racing. The very thought of losing Daniel, the one person who had always been there for her, sent another wave of anger coursing through her.

Once she decided she was done, Isadora walked out of the bedroom and made her way past her mother, who was in the living room organising packing supplies.

"Why did Daniel leave?" Mary asked, her eyes flicking up from her task, concern etching lines on her forehead.

"He said he had somewhere to be. I'm going out," Isadora replied, trying to sound nonchalant as she headed toward the front door, her heart pounding with defiance.

"Out? We're leaving tomorrow, Isadora. Have you even finished packing?" her mother pressed, worry evident in her voice.

Isadora shrugged, discreetly hiding the flask she had taken from Mary in her back pocket. "I'm done packing. I'll be back later."

"Please, be back before dinner, sweetheart," Mary pleaded, her tone a mixture of worry and maternal insistence.

"Fine," Isadora agreed, fully intending not to return until well after dinner. She slammed the door behind her, the sound reverberating in the stillness of the house, echoing her tumultuous emotions. As she walked down the driveway, she felt a mix of anger, sadness, and a deep sense of loss. She had no idea where she was headed, but once she felt she was a safe distance from her house, she pulled out the flask, opened it, and took a swig, grimacing as the alcohol burned her throat.

She knew it was a risky move to drink in public, especially since she was underage and had been expelled from school for drinking, but in that moment, Isadora didn't care. She took a few more swigs before wandering down the street. As she turned a corner, she stumbled upon a house party, the sounds of laughter and music spilling out into the night air. Without hesitation, she pushed open the door and stepped inside, the atmosphere swallowing her whole.

"Jones!" a somewhat intoxicated voice called out. Isadora turned to see her best friend, Claire, dancing with another girl. Grinning, she made her way over to them, feeling a flicker of happiness in the chaos.

"You bitch, Claire! Why didn't you tell me about this party?" Isadora exclaimed as they hugged tightly, feeling the warmth of familiarity amidst her turmoil.

"I thought you were leaving tonight, so I didn't think you'd make it. By the way, have you seen the hot piece of ass at this party? I don't know who he is, but I'd like to find out," Claire said, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she pointed toward a boy with curly hair and a leather jacket that clung to his toned frame.

Isadora frowned as she watched him light a cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke. She didn't care about some random guy, especially not tonight. "We leave tomorrow morning, not that I really want to go, and I don't think he goes to our school, but he's just some guy. Hey, Kyle's not here, right?" she asked, shifting the focus away from the boy, her stomach knotting at the thought of her ex.

"Just some guy? And no, he isn't, but I thought you two broke up?" Claire replied, her brows furrowing in confusion. Isadora looked down at her hands, the memory of her ex-boyfriend still fresh and painful, like a wound that wouldn't heal.

"We did, so I don't want to see him. Excuse me, I'm going to grab a drink," Isadora said, feeling the weight of her emotions crashing down on her again. Claire nodded, returning to her dancing with her friend while Isadora made her way to the kitchen, desperately seeking another drink to numb the ache inside her.

As she grabbed a drink, she felt a brief sense of relief, but as she walked back through the crowded living room, a shoulder collided with hers, causing her to spill her drink all over herself. Shocked, she gasped as the ice-cold liquid soaked through her shirt, the chill making her shiver.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Watch where you're going, asshole!" she snapped, her anger flaring once again as she glared at the source of the collision.

"Sorry, I didn't see you there. Maybe you should learn to watch where you're going, Princess," the curly-haired boy smirked, leaning casually against the wall, his arrogance palpable.

"Don't call me Princess," Isadora shot back, annoyance etched on her face, her heart pounding with a mix of irritation and something else she couldn't quite place.

"You seem like a bit of a princess to me," he replied, the cockiness in his tone only fuelling her anger.

"You don't know me, so don't make assumptions!" Isadora retorted before storming past him and exiting the house. Despite his looks, she wanted nothing to do with a jerk like him. Instead, she made her way home, sneaking in through her bedroom window, a habit she had developed over the last few months as she tried to escape the chaos of her life.

Frustrated, she stripped off her soaked shirt and tossed it in the trash before grabbing clean clothes and heading to the shower. The hot water washed away some of her tension, and she took a moment to breathe deeply, letting the steam envelop her. After a quick rinse, she changed into pyjamas, glancing around the room that had been her sanctuary for so long. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she realised this wouldn't be her space anymore; soon, someone else would fill it with new memories. Wiping her tears away, Isadora finished packing the last of her belongings into boxes.

Once her room was finally empty, she collapsed onto the roll-up mattress she would sleep on for one last night, her heart heavy with sorrow, and fell into a restless sleep, her dreams filled with images of her childhood and the life she was leaving behind.

When she awoke the next morning, Isadora felt as if she had been hit by a truck. Sighing, she stumbled into the bathroom and winced at her reflection.

"Mum is gonna kill me," she muttered, examining her bloodshot eyes and disheveled hair. The bags under her eyes screamed of sleepless nights and a heavy heart.

"Isadora!" Mary called from downstairs, her voice cutting through Isadora's thoughts.

"S-shit!" Isadora groaned, hastily washing her face and throwing her hair into a messy bun before racing downstairs, the smell of coffee wafting through the air.

"Sorry, I slept through my alarm," she said as she entered the living room, where her mother was packing boxes and making last-minute arrangements.

"You were out late," Mary remarked, her tone a mix of concern and irritation, her brow furrowing as she assessed her daughter's appearance.

"Yeah, I went for a walk and lost track of time. Sorry," Isadora lied, avoiding her mother's gaze. Mary raised an eyebrow but nodded, sensing the tension in the air but not wanting to push further.

"Katie and Cody should be here shortly to help pack the boxes into the truck," Mary informed her, trying to keep the atmosphere light.

As they worked together, Isadora's heart ached with every box they packed. Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she wiped them away quickly before her mother could notice. She ran back upstairs to grab more boxes, her heart heavy with sadness and regret. When she returned, she saw Katie and Cody in the living room, chatting casually and laughing.

"Hi," Cody said, looking up at her. Isadora half-smiled in response before walking past them and back out to the truck, her heart aching at the thought of leaving everyone behind.

The four of them finished loading the truck, and once it was packed, they moved the last few boxes into Mary's car. As the house stood empty, Katie, Mary, and Cody walked outside. Isadora looked around, memories flashing through her mind like a montage—birthday parties, sleepovers, family gatherings. The echoes of laughter seemed to linger in the air, amplifying her sense of loss. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she wiped them away before walking out of the house for the last time, locking the door behind her.

"I know we haven't been close lately, but I'm going to miss you," Katie said, pulling Isadora into a tight hug.

"I'll miss you too, Katie," Isadora replied, her voice thick with emotion as she held on tightly, savouring the moment. After hugging Cody and saying goodbye, she climbed into the car. As they drove away, Isadora glanced back at her cousins, watching them fade into the distance, a pang of longing striking her heart. Leaning back into her seat, she stared out the window, feeling the weight of the world on her shoulders.

"Hawkins will be a good change for us, Issi," Mary said, trying to sound optimistic, though Isadora could hear the uncertainty in her mother's voice.

"Yeah, sure," Isadora mumbled, her mind still in Santa Monica. The scenery outside shifted from familiar coastal views to the endless stretches of road, the landscapes changing as they moved further away from everything Isadora had ever known.

After stopping for the night to rest, Mary made a decision the next day—to keep driving until they reached Hawkins. For most of the journey, she attempted to engage Isadora in conversation about their new town, sharing anecdotes about her own childhood there, but Isadora remained distant, fixated on the passing scenery, her heart heavy with regret.

"Come on, Issi, I know you're angry, but I think you'll really like Hawkins. I grew up there, and there was so much to love about the town," Mary encouraged, her voice hopeful, but Isadora's heart remained locked.

"I'd rather stay in California. I don't even understand why we're moving," Isadora snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface again.

"After everything we've been through in the past year, I think we need a fresh start, besides, I got a new job, and I want you to be in a place where you can be happy," Mary explained, trying to reason with her daughter.

"I was happy! Santa Monica is home! You took me away from my friends and my life!" Isadora shouted, her anger erupting again, and she could feel her heart racing as her emotions spiralled out of control.

"You nearly got arrested, Isadora. You were expelled from school. Your life is a mess because of your own choices," Mary pointed out, her voice firm but laced with concern.

"My life is not a mess, and I didn't get arrested!" Isadora protested, her fists clenching in frustration, knowing that deep down, her mother had a point.

"No, but you did get expelled for drinking in the school bathroom three times and fighting another student. You broke her nose, Isadora," Mary reminded her, her tone unyielding.

"... it was an accident, and she started it," Isadora mumbled, shame creeping in as the memories of that day flashed in her mind.

"Isadora, stop making excuses and take some responsibility for your actions!" Mary admonished, her eyes locked onto her daughter's. Isadora turned her gaze back to the window, hating herself for what had happened but knowing she couldn't change the past. Watching the trees rush by, she felt trapped in a whirlwind of emotions, each tree a reminder of what she was leaving behind, but soon enough, she spotted the sign reading "Welcome to Hawkins."

As they passed it, Isadora realised they had arrived at their new home. She sighed softly, feeling a mix of dread and uncertainty washing over her. Maybe her mom was right; perhaps this was a chance for a new beginning, but in her heart, Isadora couldn't shake the feeling that everything she had ever known was slipping through her fingers like sand.

As they entered the town, the atmosphere shifted. Hawkins had a quaint charm, with small shops lining the streets and the scent of freshly baked goods wafting through the air, yet, to Isadora, it felt foreign and uninviting. She sat in silence, her heart heavy as she contemplated her future in this small town, knowing that change was inevitable but terrified of what that change would mean. Little did she know just how much the small town of Hawkins would impact her life, for better or worse.

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Hello,

We're back with the prologue this time. I'm making some big changes to this book - most of the storyline will still be the same but there will also be changes.

Enjoy! Xo

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