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CHAPTER SIX
questioning
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( the body, pt. i )

• °:.☆ . ₊°• ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

LAURA PICKS AT her dinner without actually eating any of it.

In times of unrest, her mom tries to maintain some sense of normalcy by forcing family time. This is why the Fairer family is gathered at the dinner table at 8:30 p.m., a smothering silence blanketing their meal, disturbed only by the sounds of cutlery clinking on ceramic plates. The last thing Laura wants to do after a four-hour shift at George's is sit in excruciating quiet, especially with the chaos swirling in her brain.

"If you're trying out a new technique to get your food into your stomach without actually putting it into your mouth, please tell me, because I am all ears," her dad says. It's his way of addressing the elephant in the room without directly calling Laura out for pushing her chicken around on her plate aimlessly.

Her mom is less subtle about it. "It's getting cold, musume."

A nickname to butter her up? Wow. Usually, she pulls that card when she wants Laura's hard edges to soften. It might have worked on any normal day. But tonight, she's haunted by the memory of that ... thing she and Nancy had seen in the woods. It had plagued her mind throughout her entire shift. She found herself skittish around every shadow and jumping at every sudden noise, even spilling drinks as she'd refilled them when the overhead music had skipped.

Laura continues rhythmically pushing her food for several moments before giving up — her gravy has touched her broccoli, so now it's inedible, and she's only prolonging her agony by keeping her worries inside.

She drops her fork and knife with a loud clatter that startles both of her parents. "I think something happened to Barb."

Her mom's brow creases. "Barbara? Why?"

"She wasn't at school today, and her parents said she wasn't home, either. Nance and I went to go look for her... Her car — it was just abandoned on the side of the road —" Tears rush into Laura's eyes, and within a moment, they're threatening to spill over onto her cheeks. She sucks in a sharp breath. "And you know Barb— you know she doesn't skip class."

Her parents share a look of concern. Laura is normally in control of her emotions around them, rarely bursting into tears. This outburst reveals the gravity of the situation; she's not one to freak out over nothing.

The telephone rings, cutting through the tense silence. Her mother rises to answer it. "Fairer residence. Oh, hello, Karen." There's a pause during which her expression grows even more troubled, her lipstick-coated bottom lip disappearing into her mouth as she worries it. "Yes, Laura was just telling me the same thing— she's beside herself. I think we should. First Will Byers, and now..."

Laura's father clears his throat, diverting her attention from her mother's now hushed conversation to him. He attempts to give her a supportive grin. "I'll help your mom clean up, yeah? You don't have to finish your chicken if you don't want to."

She nods gratefully. With her stomach still churning  with worry and fear about that thing they'd seen — something she doesn't want to believe is real — she isn't sure she can eat for the rest of the night. Flashes of a faceless creature haunt her every time her eyelids are closed.

Her dad, whose plate is cleared already, rises to take his dish to the sink and presses a kiss to Laura's forehead on the way. It normally might have made her feel better. But now, she isn't sure she'll feel that way anytime soon.

"I have homework to do," she says, getting up from the table as well. She has to start studying for Chemistry now if she wants an exceptional score on the next test to bring her grade up, and her other teachers haven't bothered to lighten their load even with the town shaken by Will's disappearance.

Laura pretends not to notice that when she passes where the phone hangs on the wall, her mother drops her voice to a whisper. She holds her breath until she's upstairs, down the hall, and in her bedroom. Only when she closes the door and leans against it does she exhale.

She glances at the backpack sitting on the floor next to her desk. For the rest of this night, she has to pretend she's a normal teenager. One that doesn't have any missing friends.

And one that definitely hadn't seen a thing without a face in Steve Harrington's yard.

—°• ☆ . °—

"He is unbelievable!" Nancy exclaims as she storms toward Laura's locker the next morning. Her face is pinched with fury, her icy blue eyes burning, and her small frame tensed with rage.

Laura isn't used to seeing her friend lose her composure like this, and especially not in the middle of the hallway. It was only a few days ago that she'd shushed Barb and Laura for teasing her about Steve. Now she's unconcerned about who might overhear as she leans against Thorn's neighboring locker and crosses her arms over her chest, fuming. Her prominent jaw clenches in time with her fists.

There's only one 'he' that Nancy could mean. Steve being unbelievable isn't breaking news to Laura, but she knows that pointing this out won't make Nancy any less irritable, so she inquires, "What happened?"

"He wants us to stay quiet about the... the alcohol." Nancy lowers her voice as if suddenly aware of the people around them. "He's worried that he'll get in trouble if his dad finds out he had a party."

"Steve is concerned that there will be consequences for his actions?" Laura wonders sarcastically. "Shouldn't have thrown a party, then."

Nancy doesn't give her the pointed look that she normally does when Laura talks poorly of Steve, so she must truly be upset. Laura can't blame her. Steve wants them to lie to the police to cover his ass. Barb is nowhere to be found, but he wants to stay out of trouble. Meanwhile, Laura is willing to endure her mother's wrath for lying to her, because finding Barb is all that matters.

"I mean, it's not like you have to lie or anything," Nancy says. "You didn't drink anything except that can of Coke."

Flashes of that six-pack on Steve's counter appear in her brain, along with the disgusting taste of ale and the raging headache she'd had the next day.

Instead of correcting her, Laura swings her locker shut and says, "Yeah."

She spends the day anxiously awaiting the police's interrogation. Will it happen during school? Or will she be asked to come to the station afterward? These thoughts run rampant in her brain, drawing her attention away from her classes during a time when she can't afford for her thoughts to drift.

The answer comes mid-morning. She's slowly making her way through a problem set in Geometry when the principal pokes her head into the room. "Laura Fairer? Come with me, please."

Laura's mouth goes dry. Her hands slightly tremble when she packs her things, acutely aware of the entire class's eyes on her. Once she's in the hallway, the principal leads her through several corridors. They turn another corner to see Laura's parents standing with two deputies near the cafeteria entrance.

Her heart drops. She picks at a stray thread on her sweater to quell the shaking in her hands that has increased by tenfold, her breaths turning shallow when she realizes she's going to have to face her lies. Seeing the police makes this all the more real.

This is happening. Barb is missing.

"Hi, Laura," one of the deputies, a man with dark skin, says as she comes to a stop near them. "I'm Officer Powell, and this is my partner, Officer Callahan." The taller white man next to him waves. "We want to ask you a few questions, get a good timeline of when Barbara was last seen."

Laura doesn't trust herself to speak, so she nods instead. Her mother lays a supportive hand on her shoulder. Will she convey such a warm gesture when she learns that Laura had lied to her?

"After you're done, you can either return to class or leave school," the principal informs her. "Your absence will be excused."

The cafeteria seems so much larger without anyone else inside. Even though all of the doors are closed, Laura is aware that their footsteps echo, as does the sound of their chairs scraping against the floor when they pull them out at a table near the center of the room. The deputies sit on one side while the Fairers take the other. Laura is sandwiched between her parents, and it feels like a prison.

"Now, Laura," Powell begins, "I understand that you and Barbara are close friends."

Laura nods again. A beat of silence follows, and she realizes that she's supposed to provide more information. She clears her throat. "Yeah. We've been close — along with our friend, Nancy Wheeler — for a few years now. Well, Nancy and I were friends first, and then Barb came along later—"

She's rambling, her words starting to jumble together the faster they come out of her mouth. Now she's providing unnecessary information. It's unlike her to word vomit like this.

"It's normal to feel nervous," Callahan tells her gently. Laura fixates on his thick mustache to avoid bouncing her leg. "We want to assure you that you're not being accused of anything. We just want to know what happened."

His mustache twitches when he talks. She can't stare at it any longer without looking creepy, so she lowers her gaze to the table instead.

Her dad presses a kiss to the side of her head in silent encouragement. She wants to melt into her chair, dread coiling in her stomach.

"Let's just start with that night," Powell suggests. He says "that night" like it should be capitalized. That Night— the last time they'd seen Barb. When everything went wrong. "Where were you on November eighth?"

Here it comes. According to her parents, she was at Nancy's, which was true for about an hour. It will be easier if she just says it, right? Rips off the Band-Aid instead of slowly peeling it back?

"At Steve Harrington's."

Her parents both look at her in surprise. She can feel their eyes boring into her like burning lights, but focuses her gaze on Powell's hat as he continues asking her questions.

"And why were you there?"

"He was having people over. He invited Nancy, and she wanted Barb and I to come with her."

"Do you know why Nancy wanted you there?"

"So she'd be more comfortable. Um... Steve's friends Carol and Tommy would be there, and she doesn't know them that well, so, you know, she wanted... girl support."

"I see." Powell and Callahan share a look. "And what happened at this party?"

"It wasn't a party," Laura says. Maybe Steve had called it that, but that's definitely not what it was. "It was a gathering. We just... sat outside. By the pool. It's really... I know them even less than Nancy does, so Barb and I were kind of sat away from them. Tommy and Carol, they were goofing around. Then Barb cut her thumb. I went with her to clean it up. By the time we got back out, the others were soaking wet. I think they fell in the pool, but I'm really not sure — Tommy kept joking that he was going to push Carol in, so maybe..."

She's over-explaining again. She sets her head on straight before she continues.

"Anyway, when we came out of the bathroom, Nancy was going upstairs to change her clothes. By that point, we wanted to leave, but she didn't, so she told us to go home."

"Did you?" Powell asks.

"No," Laura replies. "Barb said she was going to sit outside. I told her I'd be out there in a minute, but... I fell asleep."

"And when you woke up, she was gone?"

"When I woke up, everyone was gone," she says. "Everyone except Steve. He woke me up the next morning."

This prompts a lot of questions. No, she didn't leave with Nancy. Nancy didn't see her because it was dark. Yes, she would have passed by her on her way out the door, but she wasn't on the couch.

"You fell asleep on the floor?" Callahan repeats, his brow pinched in confusion behind his glasses.

"It's something she does fairly often, Officer," her father cuts in. "Ever since she was a little girl, she liked to lie on the floor. Sometimes she'd fall asleep there."

That fact is true, but the fact that her dad is trying to provide support for her half-lie makes her mouth taste sour.

"I guess I'm just trying to understand why she fell asleep on the floor," Powell says.

"It's not very comfortable," Callahan adds. Powell shoots him a look that says, Not important.

"I thought I'd just get a quick rest. I was exhausted physically and emotionally, so I just wanted to lie down for a second before I joined Barb. But I guess I was more tired than I thought."

Damn Steve Harrington and his pristine reputation. Why is she even covering for him? She shouldn't care if his dad tears him a new one. But deep down, she knows it's not him she's trying to protect— it's Nancy. She probably avoided the topic of alcohol to the deputies, and if Laura revealed that information, Nancy would get in trouble for telling a false story.

For Nancy, she'd lie over and over.

"I wish I hadn't, believe me," Laura says, the words bursting out before she can stop them. Her responses before have been a bit tremulous, but still matter-of-fact, with barely any emotion behind them except the normal nerves associated with an interrogation. Now, her voice is thick with despair, her eyes aching with the threat of oncoming tears. "I keep thinking — if I would have just gone out there right away — would things be different? Would she still be here?"

She sniffles, wiping her nose with her sleeve. Her mother surprises her by giving another encouraging touch. The warmth of her hand seeps through Laura's sweater where it rests on her shoulder, and she resists the urge to lean into it.

"I told her I'd be out in a minute. And I wasn't. I ... I failed her."

"You didn't fail her," Powell assures her. "Nobody could've anticipated something like this happening. We've had more work in the past few days than we've had since we were rookies."

"Thank you for your honesty, Laura," Callahan adds. "Is there anything else you'd like to add?"

The question seems almost... pointed. Like he knows there's more to the story. Not anything about Barb herself, but little details. Something after.

"Um, Steve brought me home that morning before school," Laura recalls. "We passed Barb's car. It was parked in the exact same spot where we left it— a few blocks down from his house. I thought that was strange. Then, after school, Nancy and I went looking around. We saw the car again. It was still locked, nothing looked disturbed... and when we went behind Steve's house, we saw.... something."

"Something," Powell repeats.

"I don't know how to describe it. It was... not a person. It was way too tall, and its face, it—" It didn't have one. That's going to make her sound crazy. "It wasn't right. It's nothing I've ever seen before."

Callahan writes this down. "Some kind of animal? Deer, maybe?"

Laura shakes her head. "No. It was almost black, or, like, dark gray. No antlers."

"Does don't have antlers."

Laura's expression turns hard, as does her voice. "I know what I saw. It wasn't a deer."

"Laura," her mother warns at the sound of her tone. Oops. It had sounded a tad too venomous, but she doesn't like the way the officers are seemingly dismissing this piece of information.

The two men share a look again. Then, Powell leans back in his chair and reveals their hand.

"We checked the area this afternoon. No ani— something. No car."

"What?" Laura asks, her heart leaping into her throat. Her posture becomes rigid. "What do you mean, no car?"

"Our theory is that Barbara went back to it and left."

"Left," Laura parrots blankly. "Left... where?"

"We're not sure."

"No. No, Barb isn't like that. She's not a runaway type. She only came to Steve's because Nancy and I convinced her, okay? She freaks out when she's not in bed by nine on a school night. Her favorite game is Scrabble. She thinks pop is too intense for her."

Callahan asks, tapping his pen against his pad of paper, "She wasn't upset about anything? About Nancy wanting to stay?"

"No! Well, I mean, we were annoyed, because duh, but Barb wouldn't take off without telling anyone. She was aiming for a perfect attendance award."

Callahan is still tapping his pen. It's grating to Laura's ears, ramping up her nerves and anger more than they're already piqued. She finds herself snapping, "Can you stop that? Please."

Mercifully, he does. Silence fills the room for a few more seconds, but Laura can still hear the blood raging in her ears.

"I think we're done here," Powell says with a glance at his partner, who nods in agreement. "Thank you for speaking with us, Laura."

"She didn't run away," Laura says sternly.

"Thank you, Laura."

It's a polite dismissal. She holds Powell's stare for a moment before getting up, her chair scraping loudly against the tile. She doesn't bother pushing it in before she storms out the door.

Her mom joins her, quick on her daughter's heels, and Laura prepares herself for a lecture. She faces her mother with steel eyes. But instead of being yelled at, she's pulled into a hug.

This is the last thing she'd expected. It makes her stiff for a moment before she relaxes enough to return the embrace, breathing in the sweet scent of her mother's perfume.

"I'm sorry for lying," she says. "I didn't want Nancy to be alone."

"I know, musume," her mother replies, smoothing her hand through Laura's hair. "I know. And I know it's not like Barbara to run away."

This validation takes a weight off of her shoulders that she didn't know was there. She and Nancy aren't just hysterical teenage girls. Someone believes them, and even if it's only one person for sure right now, it means the world.

______

a/n:

hi besties i'm back

i have decided to actually participate in nanowrimo this year, and i chose this book to focus on! the goal is to write 50,000 words for this story during the month of november. it's going to be a lot, but i have faith!

thank you all for reading <3

— kristyn

( word count: 3.1k )