CHAPTER TEN.
2x01: Madmax

"Stephanie Hughes," Sam cooed from her sister's doorframe. "My dear sister. My favorite sister. The light of my life—"

"What do you want, Sam?" Stephanie deadpanned, turning off her Walkman.

Sam's false smile fell. She wandered into Stephanie's room wordlessly.

"Get out of my room!" Stephanie hissed, slamming her Walkman down on her desk and whipping around in her swivel chair to face Sam.

Sam sent her sister an innocent smile, hands clasped behind her back while rocking on her heels.

"You know I love you, right—?"

"Get out!"

Sam sighed, throwing her head back. "Can I borrow your quarters?" she finally asked.

"Borrow?" Stephanie repeated, raising an annoyed eyebrow. "Or steal so you can go to the arcade for an obsessive amount of time?"

Sam gaped, wearing an offended expression. "Steph, I would never—"

"No. You can't," Stephanie answered. "Go ask Corey."

"Corey's going with us!"

"I still don't understand how that happened," Stephanie began, "but seriously. Get out of my room!"

As Stephanie stood up and began shoving Sam toward the hallway, Sam smirked back at Stephanie. "Why? Are you writing love letters to Ro—?"

"OUT!" Stephanie yelled.

She slammed her door right in Sam's face.

Sam turned around, finding that Corey was waiting right outside Stephanie's room. But, Sam had to admit, she already knew Corey was right there.

With a mischievous smile, she pulled her hands out of her jacket's pockets to reveal five quarters in each hand: ten quarters stolen from Stephanie's room when Stephanie was too busy berating Sam to notice.

Corey nodded. "Alright, let's go before she notices."

He himself showed ten quarters of his own, meaning they had twenty in total. The party was going to flip.

They started to run out of the house, so momentarily blinded by their mission to swindle Stephanie that they forgot about one other hindering factor.

"The fuck do you two think you're doing?"

Sam and Corey paused in their tracks, turning in unison to face Uncle Dan on the couch. The cousins made eye contact before their gazes faced him again.

"Sam wants me to join football," Corey explained, coming up with a lie quicker than he should be able to. "She's friends with the quarterback on the football team so we were gonna meet up with him and get some practice in."

Uncle Dan's eyebrows rose, and for a second, Sam was terrified he was about to rain hell on both of them—that he didn't believe Corey for a second. They were both stiff, and Sam could almost feel Corey's fear, radiating off him in waves.

But Uncle Dan scoffed to himself, muttering, "Never thought I'd see your faggot ass get into football. Of course the slut's got another boyfriend up her sleeve. Ha!"

He began laughing, as if he'd just said the funniest thing in the world.

Sam's fists were clenched, and her glare was too focused on Uncle Dan to even see the face Corey was making. When he spoke, she could hear the hurt in his tone.

"Yup," Corey said numbly. "Thanks, Dad."

Then Corey turned again for the door, throwing it open harshly. Sam frowned, feeling horrible she hadn't done anything. But they both knew it was more dangerous to speak up in this kind of scenario.

So she just followed Corey out of the house.

Sam trailed after him, and he was making large strides toward their bikes.

"Corey, he's not—"

"I don't want to talk about it," Corey snapped, throwing one leg over his bike seat.

Sam sighed. She copied his actions, but she still tried to reach him. "But I want you to know—"

"Sam? Sam, Corey? You two together? You copy?" came Dustin's voice through the walkie clipped to Sam's jeans. She internally cursed him for cutting in at the worst time, but still held the walkie up and elongated its antenna. "Lucas and I've got six bucks total. What's your haul?"

"Five bucks, dude," Corey answered. He leaned into Sam's walkie to be heard better. "You couldn't have waited to ask us this at the arcade?"

"Shit!" Dustin cursed through the line. "How did everyone find twenty quarters except for me?"

Corey snorted after he internally did the math. "You only got four?"

"It's okay, Dustin," Sam tried cheering him up while sending Corey a pointed glare. "It won't matter when we combine everything, alright? Just try checking on Mike. We're heading out right now."

"I've tried!" Dustin cried, exasperated. "He hasn't been responding to me!"

"Did you try that channel he's been on lately?" Sam asked, knowing Dustin definitely hadn't.

A beat.

"...No."

"Okay, well, try that," Sam suggested. "I don't know why he's always on it, but whatever. It's Mike."

"Yeah," he breathed, understanding wholeheartedly. "Thanks, Specks!"

"Stop calling me Spec—!" Sam complained, but she heard Dustin's walkie click off from the other line. She sighed to herself, clipping her walkie back on her jeans.

She and Corey began biking for the arcade, but that didn't mean she was done being annoyed.

"He knows I don't have glasses, anymore. Why does he keep calling me that?"

"Technically, you do still have glasses," Corey countered. "You just aren't allowed to wear them outside the house. And you're wearing contacts right now, which... are a form of spectacles, so—"

"Okay, seriously, I don't need your smartass mouth right now, Corey. Thank you."

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

Sam and Corey eventually met up with Lucas, Mike, and Dustin along the way. The group of five rode together until they finally reached the Palace Arcade. All five kids began locking their bikes out front when they heard an engine run into the parking lot.

Sam turned her head to see Will coming into view, driven in the car by his mom. Since the events of last year, Joyce was adamant on dropping off Will everywhere he went. Sam understood her caution after what happened last year. As much as she tried to hide it (knowing the worries could annoy Will endlessly), Sam was wary about Will now too. Joyce had expressed to Sam multiple times how much it meant to her.

Sam threw them both friendly and ecstatic waves. The boys did the same, then excitedly ran inside to start playing some of their favorite arcade games. Sam waited outside for Will though. She stuffed her hands in her pockets to try and evade the internal chill she always felt—she hated the cold.

"Hey, Will!" Sam cheered, when Joyce finally let Will exit the car.

Will returned her smile, lifting up a waving hand to respond. "Hey, Sam. How's it going?"

"Pretty good." She shrugged as they set into motion for inside the arcade. "My uncle thinks Core and I are somehow at football practice."

Before they entered the arcade, Sam sent Joyce once last wave before Will opened the door to let them inside.

"Your uncle's an idiot," Will expressed, not knowing it would send Sam into an internal spiral.

Samantha is fucked up and only hands around boys like a slut!

Of course the slut's got another boyfriend up her sleeve.

"I mean, I guess," Sam responded awkwardly. "I dunno."

Will stopped, having to do a double take at Sam's sudden change in behavior. "Sam, you know he's an idiot, right? And I never call anyone that word. But nothing he says is ever true."

But what if it is?

"Yeah," she laughed, trying to brush Will's suspicion off. "Yeah, I know that. Sorry."

Will's brows pulled together. "You don't have to be sor—"

"Come on," Sam interjected, eyes finding her friends in the distance. "Before Corey spends my money without me."

The Palace Arcade was filled with various gaming machines and popping with different, vibrant colors. While Sam and Will were away for mere seconds, the boys had decided to start with the one game Sam loathed the most.

A frown took over Sam's face while she, Lucas, Mike, Corey, and Will surrounded the game Dustin was so eager to play. The game was Dragon's Lair, and the reason Sam hated it was obvious—the cartoon princess on the screen wore a tightly-fitted black leotard which pleased many boys' hungry eyes. Her long, blonde hair swished as she puckered her plump lips while Dustin began the game, clutching the controls.

"To slay the dragon, use the magic sword!" the princess explained as she swooned in a sexual manner. Sam scowled.

Dustin began playing the game, and the party cheered him on, yelling out different moves he should make. However, the sound of six voices yelling over each other caused Dustin to slip up and tell his friends to shut up. He lost, his character turning to bones before collapsing on the ground.

"No... No! No!" Dustin shouted, slamming his hands on the arcade game. "I hate this overpriced bullshit! Son of a bitch! Piece of shit!"

"You're just not nimble enough. You'll get there one day," Lucas said with a smug look on his face as he leaned his arm against the game. "But until then, Princess Daphne is still mine."

Dustin sneered. "Whatever. I'm still tops on Centipede and Dig Dug."

"You sure about that?" a familiar voice caught the attention of the six kids who turned to the source. Standing before them was Keith, who had a bag of cheese puffs in his hand. He was a high school student who worked at Palace Arcade and—every time he spoke to them—annoyed the hell out of the party.

"Sure about what?" Dustin asked.

Keith munched on a cheese puff while Corey stared at him with that infamous judging look of his. He didn't respond to Dustin's question, but he didn't really have to, because Sam understood what he was saying. Her eyes were trained on Dig Dug in the distance. When Dustin looked to Sam, he caught on too.

"You're kidding me," Dustin muttered in despair, before pushing through his friends and running for Dig Dug.

He maneuvered around other kids at the arcade, shoving them to reach it faster. When he reached Dig Dug, he read the scores.

"No! No!"

1ST—751300—MADMAX
2ND—650990—DUSTIN
3RD—641183—LUCAS
4TH—620784—COREG
5TH—552415—JKRACH

"751,300 points!" Will read incredulously.

"That's impossible," Mike muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.

"That's amazing!" Sam said in awe.

Not as impressed as Sam, Dustin turned away from the score screen and instead to Keith. "Who's Mad Max?" he demanded.

"Better than you," Keith taunted. Dustin shot him with the middle finger.

"Is it you?" Will asked, pointing at Keith.

Keith looked offended. "You know I despise Dig Dug."

"You despise everything," Corey pointed out. "Just give us a hint. Girl or boy?"

"It's obviously a boy," Lucas declared.

Sam swiftly turned on him, her arms crossed. "Why couldn't it be a girl?"

"Well, because girls aren't..." Lucas cut himself off as Sam arched an eyebrow, looking expectant for him to continue. "I-I mean, the chances of Mad Max being a girl is—um..."

Lucas looked toward Mike, Corey, Will, and Dustin, who all shook their heads. He dug his grave himself. Seeing no way out, Lucas turned back to Keith.

"Who is it?" he asked, changing the subject.

Sam shook her head, but she decided to let Lucas off the hook and turn back to Keith. She really wanted to find out who Mad Max was. Now more than ever she hoped Mad Max was a girl.

"Spill it, Keith!" Dustin snapped.

"You want information," Keith's head moved from Dustin to Mike with a shit-eating grin, "then I need something in return."

The party's heads all shifted so that their attention was on Mike. Upon the sudden attention, Mike's eyes widened in realization.

"No. No, no, no! No way! You're not getting a date with her!"

"Mike, come on," Lucas urged. "Just get him the date!"

"What?" Sam interjected incredulously. "Lucas, no! We can find out who Mad Max is a different way!"

Mike gestured to her passionately. "Thank you, Sam! I'm not prostituting my sister!"

"But it's for a good cause!" Dustin argued.

Corey nudged Mike, but shook his head scrutinizingly at Keith. "No, don't get him the date, Wheeler. You know what? He's gonna spread his nasty-ass rash to your whole family."

"Acne isn't a rash! And it isn't contagious, you held-back, delinquent, wastoid!"

"Shut the hell up, Keith!" Mike snapped.

But Corey was already set off. "Oh, I'm a wastoid?" he goaded. "She wouldn't even want to go on a date with you! You make like, what? $2.50 an hour? Which doesn't even include how ugly you are."

"You repeated the seventh grade—"

"And I can also beat the fuck out of you right now if you don't shut up—"

"Gray!" Mike interrupted, holding Corey's sleeve and pushing Corey behind him. "Calm down."

Corey's head whipped towards Mike, a fiery glare in his eyes. But the gaze Mike met him with was just as firm. He wasn't backing down, and maybe the shock of that punched a breath out of Corey. His shoulders deflated in the next moment—

A piercing cold flooded Sam's body, and she felt like she couldn't breathe.

Sam's hand flew up to clutch at her chest, wondering what the hell was going on. She looked around wildly, wondering if anyone else was feeling this cold, but all she could piece together was that Will wasn't with them anymore.

Fist still grabbing at her shirt desperately, Sam stumbled around the arcade in search of Will. Something felt wrong, wrong, wrong.

When she couldn't find Will inside there, she flung open the door leading out of the arcade. She needed to breathe, and she couldn't do so. She had to get fresh air somehow.

And then, there was Will. Sam had finally found him. He almost seemed frozen, staring up at the sky with the same fear in his eyes Sam was feeling herself.

"Will!" Sam called, hand falling limp from her chest when Will snapped out of it. His head whipped back to her, looking frightful. "Are you okay?"

For a second, Will seemed very disoriented. He tilted his head back up to the starry sky again, almost searching for whatever he had his eyes trained on earlier. Warmth was flooding into Sam's body again; she could breathe, she no longer felt stuck.

"Yeah," Will answered hesitantly, peeling his eyes away from the sky. "I just... I needed some air."

Exhaling slowly, trying to relish in being able to do that again, Sam nodded even if she didn't believe him. She put a shaky hand on Will's shoulder.

"Come on," she muttered. "You're up on Dig Dug."

Will finally turned around to meet Sam's wary stare. She took her hand off of him in case that was what made him so unstable right now. Instead, she nodded at the arcade and began leading him inside.

"Let's take that top score back, huh?"

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

"Meet the human brain," Mr. Clarke said, putting down a model of it before them. "I know, I know. It doesn't look like much. A little gross even, right? But consider this: There are a hundred billion cells inside of this miracle of evolution. All working as one. No, no. I did not misspeak. I did not stutter. A hundred billion."

Sam sat in her desk behind Will. Corey was across from her—behind Mike—and behind Sam was none other than Justin Zimmerman.

Yes. The Justin Zimmerman, to be exact.

When seventh grade ended, Sam was upset about not having that science class anymore—it meant she could no longer stare at the back of Justin's head without being seen as a creep. But then, when eighth grade began, Justin asked if he could sit behind her this year.

He asked her that! Himself! He even chose not to sit by Carrie Cunningham! For Sam!

Yeah, it was kind of awesome. Even if Corey told Sam the only reason Justin did it was to cheat off of Sam's tests and quizzes. Some days, Sam was adamantly convinced Justin wasn't like that, that he actually enjoyed Sam's company. Other days... Well, Sam remembered their first, real conversation.

I wish I said behind you. That way I could cheat and not have a C anymore.

Sam was choosing to ignore the fact Justin had an A this year. He wasn't using her. He wasn't.

Either way, Sam took notes of everything her teacher was saying, infatuated with the lesson he was giving. Science had always been Sam's strong suit; ever since that young age when Sam was taught there was science in music, she was done for. Those were like, her two favorite things. She remembered running home and immediately telling her dad everything she learned word for word. He'd listened to her, just as eager to hear his little girl ramble.

Unfortunately, Mr. Clarke's lesson was interrupted by the classroom's door slamming open. On the flip side, a pretty, red-head girl was walking in, followed by Principal Coleman.

"Ah!" Mr. Clark mused, pausing his lecture. "This must be our new student."

Principal Coleman nodded. "Indeed it is. All yours."

As their principal left the room, the new girl tried scurrying for an empty desk. Mr. Clarke stopped her before she could get two paces past his own.

"Alright," he called out, with a hand gesturing for her to stop. "Hold up. You don't get away that easy. Come on up. Don't be shy."

The girl scowled as she faced the curious faces of the young students. Sam was definitely one of them.

Mr. Clarke looked to Dustin and gave him a nod. "Dustin, drum roll," he requested.

Dustin quickly shut his textbook, happy to provide. He began tapping on it rapidly with much enthusiasm.

"Class, please welcome, all the way from sunny California... the latest passenger to join us on our curiosity voyage... Maxine!"

Sam was immediately in awe when Mr. Clarke mentioned California. Over there, they were in Pacific Standard Time, while over here, they were in Eastern Standard Time! She immediately wondered how Maxine was adjusting to being three hours ahead of her usual—

"It's Max," she said.

"Sorry?"

"Nobody calls me Maxine. It's Max," she corrected him.

Sam's face fell as an epiphany hit her. She glanced over at the party, who wore the same looks and they were thinking the same thing.

Mad Max.

"Ah," Mr. Clarke mumbled, but quickly regained his joyful demeanor. "Well, all aboard, Max!"

Max made her way to the back of the classroom where an empty desk reside. Six pairs of eyes belonging to Sam, Lucas, Mike, Corey, Will, and Dustin followed her.

"Hey," came the voice of Justin, under the impression Sam turned around to look at him.

Sam snapped out of the way she was staring at Max to meet Justin's eyes instead. She smiled nervously back at him.

"Hi."

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

"There's no way that's Mad Max," Mike decided, staring at Max through the fence gate.

Now that recess had begun, the party took that as their opportunity to discuss what they thought of Max. Obviously, it made perfect sense for Max to be Mad Max, but some of them didn't think the same.

"Yeah," Will agreed, hands gripping the fence. "Girls don't play video games."

Sam whipped her head to the side so she could stare at Will instead of Max, offended. "Excuse me."

"Besides you," Will said apologetically.

Still unhappy, Sam just raised an eyebrow and trained her eyes on Max again. Sam still didn't have the best eyesight, but her contacts came in handy more than her glasses had: Max had red hair, blue eyes, and freckles that populated every inch of her round face. She was pretty, Sam thought, and she even rode a skateboard, which made her a million times more awesome.

And, as much as Mike or Will said the opposite, she was totally Mad Max. Maybe Sam could befriend her, and maybe they could play video games together without any boys having to crowd Sam.

"I didn't mean she can't be Mad Max because she's a girl," Mike said. "I meant that no one can get 750,000 points on Dig Dug. That's impossible."

"You mean improbable," Sam corrected. "She did get 750,000 points on Dig Dug."

"No, she didn't," Mike breathed, annoyed.

"But her name is Max," Lucas said.

"Thanks for pointing that out, Lucas," Corey snarked. "We had no clue."

"I mean," Lucas continued, side-eyeing Corey, "how many Maxes do any of you know?"

Mike shrugged. "I don't know."

"Zero. That's how many."

"Yeah, and she shows up at school the day after someone with the same name breaks our top score?" Dustin pointed out, looking at Mike in disbelief. "I mean, are you kidding me?"

"Exactly!" Lucas exclaimed, still staring at Max through the fence. "So she's gotta be Mad Max. She's gotta be."

"You know, we could just talk to her," Sam stated the obvious, watching Max do an ollie on her skateboard.

"Talk to her? Yeah, right," Dustin scoffed, while small chuckles were heard from Lucas, Mike, Corey, and Will. Rolling her eyes, Sam stepped away from the fence and began to retreat. "I think the obvious is clear. And plus, she skateboards, so she's pretty awesome."

Sam began leaving the area, deciding to get answers for herself. It was Lucas who finally pulled his gaze away from Max, calling out for Sam. "What are you doing?"

"Talking to her!" Sam called back, walking backwards to face Lucas while she answered.

The boys watched Sam turn on her heel and head straight for where Max was.

She caught Max riding in an idle line, her back facing Sam as she did so. As Max slowed to a stop, Sam said, "It's Max, right?"

Max turned around in surprise. She stopped and picked up her skateboard. Then, she eyed Sam with a scrutinizing stare, and it had Sam nervously rambling.

"Hi. I'm in your science class," she explained while Max raised an eyebrow. "I don't know if you knew that already. You might've seen me in there. Or you might've not. That's fine. My name's Sam—well, it's actually Samantha, but my friends call me Sam—"

"By 'friends' do you mean those stalkers over there watching us right now?" Max asked, gesturing to where Lucas, Mike, Corey, Will, and Dustin stood. As Sam and Max glanced their way, the boys whipped around, pretending they were occupied with something else. "Yeah, they're pretty weird."

Sam smiled as she watched her friends. "The best people usually are," she said, catching Max off guard with her supportive response.

Max was looking at Sam like most people usually did—as if she was an oddity that no one could quite understand. Sam was both comforted and troubled by the realization.

"Anyways: I just wanted to tell you I think you're super cool," Sam continued. "Like, the whole skateboard thing, and the video game thing, and—you are Mad Max, right?"

"Yeah, that's me." Max nodded, seeming suspicious. "Does that make you Awe-Sam?"

Sam instinctively cringed at the nickname, but she felt the need to nod back.

"Yeah. I sort of hate it, but Sam was too short, so Lucas started putting my name in as that. But it's cool that you like video games too! That's why my friends are staring at you. Don't mind them. Dustin's just butthurt you beat his score on Dig Dug."

Max laughed. "I can tell."

Sam brightened up at the fact she got Max to laugh, finally calming down a little.

"So you came here from California?"

"Uh, yeah." Max shrugged, and Sam could sense a shift in her mood.

"That's so cool."

Max looked down awkwardly. "I guess so—"

"I mean, what's it like being in Pacific Standard Time?" Sam wondered eagerly, looking at Max with an excited smile. Max completely paused in her tracks, because she was not expecting Sam to be so excited over the Pacific Standard Time. "I've only ever been in Indiana, so EST is all I know. Was it weird when you came here and were basically like, thrown into the future? Like, technically three hours of your life are just missing, and now I bet your whole perspective of time has to shift—"

Sam was cut off by the sound of Max laughing again. This time, she was laughing really hard—so much so that Sam froze.

"What?" she asked, trying to make herself look smaller, now feeling self-conscious.

"Since I've moved here," Max started once her laughter died down, though she sounded terribly amused, "everyone's been asking me about the beaches and surfers and sunshine crap. But you're asking me about time zones?"

Sam exhaled a heavy breath, relieved she hadn't messed anything up. For a second, she'd thought Max was making fun of her, but this teasing felt light-hearted enough.

"Technically, I am asking you about sunshine crap," Sam said with a grin. "Just like, think about it. If you were in California right now it would be 9:00 A.M. That's so cool."

"You tend to think a lot of things are cool," Max analyzed. "A lot of things that aren't actually cool."

She's referring to herself, Sam realized very quickly, because she was very good at spotting this kind of stuff. She decided then that she was going to be best friends with Max whether Max wanted to or not.

"Nah, you're gonna find out I'm basically a certified genius," Sam teased, waving a hand as she pretended to be boastful. "I'm always right about these things. Time zones are cool and so are you."

Max shared Sam's smile, picking up her skateboard. "Oh, I'm very sure, Samantha."

"You should be, Maxine." Sam grinned, watching as Max pulled out a sheet of looseleaf and started writing on it. She tilted her head. "Hey, what's that?"

As Sam uttered the question, a mischievous smirk overtook Max's face. Max folded up the paper and put her marker away.

"You'll see," Max said, before throwing the crumpled piece of paper into the trash can below. "I've gotta go, but I'll see you later, alright?"

"Alright." Sam nodded back with a friendly smile. "Bye, Max!"

Catching Sam's attention next was the sound of footsteps running toward her. She turned and saw Lucas, Mike, Corey, Will, and Dustin had hurried to the trash can. Upon reaching it, Sam wore a disgusted frown as Dustin dug through the trash.

She joined the boys, despite the disgusted looks they were receiving from bypassing students.

"Okay, you guys are so disgusting," Sam informed, a tone of disbelief in her voice.

Lucas swiveled his head to Sam incredulously. "How do you manage to talk to literally everyone?"

Sam shrugged. "She's cool." Then, remembering, added, "Oh! And she also is Mad Max, by the way. I asked her."

"Got it. There we go," Dustin said as he pulled himself out of the trash can, with Max's crumpled note in hand. The rest of the party circled him as he began opening the note—save for Sam and Corey, who stood to the side and shook their heads with each other in disbelief.

The other four frowned at the words written on the page, voicing the scrawled letters to themselves quietly: "'Stop spying on me, creeps.'"

Corey snorted, and his amusement grew when two of his friends shot him a small glare. "I fucking told you!" he said, sharing a humored smile with Mike.

"I like her," Sam intoned with an amused smile.

"William Byers." The sound of Principal Coleman's voice caught the attention of the six party members who turned around. "Your mother's here."

So Will left with Principal Coleman, and Sam, Lucas, Mike, Corey, and Dustin moved up the stairs and onto the landing, ensuring a view of the front of the school. The party remained quiet, the way they always did when Will left for his appointments. The silence was another reminder of everything cruel that happened last year, hanging above the party like bitter air. It didn't take long until Will's figure stepped out of the school doors.

"You guys think he's okay?" Dustin broke the silence.

"He's always weird when he has to go in," Lucas said.

Sam shook her head, disagreeing. "It feels... different this time."

A piercing cold flooded Sam's body, and she felt like she couldn't breathe. Her hand flew up to clutch at her chest, wondering what the hell was going on. Something felt wrong, wrong, wrong. She needed to breathe, and she couldn't do so.

"Yeah," Mike said, on Sam's side. "He's quiet today."

Corey sighed.

"He's always quiet."

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

Sam had a habit of not going home after school anymore. This habit was so prominent, that Corey didn't even wait for Sam once school ended anymore (because, yeah, he was nice now).

It kind of all happened on accident. Sam's Walkman broke, so she visited the local Radio Shack to buy a new one. From there, she did what Lucas said Sam did best—talk to people—and befriended the newest owner of Radio Shack who had recently moved into town.

Bob Newby.

Despite what she'd heard a lot of people say about him, Sam thought Bob was cool. He was a technology genius who literally owned Radio Shack. That shit was like Sam's dream! Once, he even showed Sam a radio he'd built himself.

Exactly. He was awesome.

Not only that, but he was Joyce Byers's boyfriend now, as Will had told her. That could make him like, Will's stepdad, and then Sam could be at their house more to bother both Will and Bob. Two birds with one stone.

"Sorry I'm late, Mr. Newby! I wasn't there when the AV room was finally redone, so Mr. Clarke showed me today!"

Sam stood on her tippy-toes to try and spot Bob up at the Radio Shack counter before she started browsing around the store. It was kind of pointless for her to be doing this, since Sam browsed the store basically five days a week and everything was usually the same.

"You don't have to apologize, Sam," she heard Bob laugh from the counter. "Or call me Mr. Newby."

Sam winced. "Sorry, Mr. Newby—I mean—Shit—Shoot!—Sorry—Fuck!—Oh God—Sorry—I mean— Not sorry, Mr. N—Mr. Bob!"

She exhaled, cringing to herself. She hesitantly exited out of the aisle, revealing her reddened face to a very amused Bob.

"Pretend you didn't hear that?" Sam said, really hoping he would.

Bob winked at her kindly. "Hear what?"

Sam's lips quirked up into a smile. She pushed her embarrassment aside to walk up to the counter; although, Sam had to stand on a bar protruding from the counter just to be able to see over it.

"How's today been?" Sam asked conversationally, crossing her arms on the counter to help grip on.

"Slow," Bob answered with a contemplative tilt of his head, "but good. How's the AV room looking?"

Sam contemplated her answer. Then, "It looks the same as before, just without the Heathkit. So, basically, horrible. I miss the Heathkit."

"I can tell," Bob mused, because Sam had ranted to him about missing the Heathkit a multitude of times.

He typed on the computer for a little longer, Sam watching him do so in fascination. She stretched her body up as much as she could, craning her head to watch as Bob modified Radio Shack's database using BASIC—it was a computer programming language Bob had taught Sam a couple months back. It was really cool, and was used for things like rebooting computer systems, overriding security codes, and (what Bob was doing right now) altering inner databases. Sam knew how to do it, but didn't actually own a computer, so she could only use BASIC when Bob let her on Radio Shack's computer.

When Bob stopped typing on the computer, he peered at Sam curiously. She looked away from the computer to meet his stare.

"You know," he started, "I actually founded the Hawkins Middle AV club."

Sam's eyes widened to the size of saucers. She was so shocked that her feet's grip on the ledge slipped, and Sam fell from the counter. Bob looked concerned, but Sam popped right back up with an awed look.

"Did you really?!"

Bob's frown shifted into a smile. He nodded. "Yup. Sure did. I taught Mr. Clarke everything he knows about audio visuals."

"No way." Sam shook her head with an open mouthed smile. "You are so cool, Mr. Bob."

He chuckled, watching Sam with that odd look. "I'm glad you think so, Sam. You might be the only one."

Sam waved a dismissive hand. "No, I'm basically a certified genius about these kinds of stuff. You're definitely cool."

Before Bob could comment, Sam's eyes fell beyond him and instead to what was hidden behind him and the counter.

"Is that a new turntable model?" Sam exclaimed with wide eyes.

Bob looked confused, before glancing behind and coming to an understanding. He huffed at Sam's excitement, nodding to her again.

"The Belt-Drive Automatic. It has a cover-mounted tonearm and programmable repeat."

"You don't even have to touch the tonearm?!"

Bob shook his head, his smile amused.

"Holy shit—I mean... wow," Sam commented, and Bob laughed. Her sparkling eyes admired the new turntable again before moving back to him. "How much is it?"

Unfortunately, Bob answered, "$160," but Sam was expecting a high price.

"Damn," Sam breathed, even if she knew it was definitely worth that much. "I better start saving up then, huh?"

"An employee discount would make it $56," Bob said with a wink. "Maybe one day?"

Sam nodded vigorously.

"Oh, definitely one day."

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

Published: January 14, 2024
Re-published: October 30, 2025

BAILEY YAPS...

First off

I PRESENT TO YOU THE SAM AND BOB DUO I ADORE SO HEAVILY!!

I totally created this duo because Sean Asten is Samwise. And Sam is. Well. Sam.

But yeah I will always love this duo no matter how many times I read/write them. They are not going to break your hearts and I did not hint some foreshadowing of where Sam is going to be later in the season. So don't look into that.

Also

MAX!!!!!!!!!!!

REAL ONES KNOW THE HYPE OF SAM AND MAX (SAMAX, IF YOU WILL) DUO. I would lay down my life for these girls, you don't understand. Sam needs someone like Max in her life so bad, and Max needs someone like Sam in her life so bad, and oh god they're just so perfect for each other and they are the best friends ever and they are literally my Roman Empire and

Anyways, welcome to Act 2! We're in for a... ride.