Chapter Nine: Eleven and Seven
chapter nine:
❛ eleven and seven ❜
PLEASE DONT BE A GHOST READER!!
COMMENT AND VOTE
✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸ ✸
"Eleven," Mike breathed out, the disbelief in his voice barely masking the overwhelming relief he felt. Without hesitation, he rushed forward, pulling her into a tight hug as if afraid she might disappear again.
"Mike," Eleven whispered, burying her face into his shoulder. The connection between them was palpable, a reunion that felt both inevitable and heartbreaking.
Scarlett stood off to the side, her heart splintering with every passing second. The raw emotions in the room were too much, and she could feel them bleeding into her own. Her chest tightened, and before she could stop it, the lights in the kitchen began to flicker erratically, a direct response to her growing distress. She tried to control it, but the hurt was too deep, too overwhelming.
Eleven's small sob echoed in the quiet cabin, and Max, her eyes wide with shock, turned to Lucas, seeking confirmation of the impossible. "Is that...?" Max trailed off, her voice trembling with uncertainty.
Lucas, his gaze fixed on Eleven, nodded slowly. "Yeah," he whispered, his own disbelief apparent.
Scarlett felt like she was on the verge of shattering. She took a step back, trying to distance herself from the group, desperately attempting to rein in her emotions before she lost control completely. She didn't want to be here, didn't want to witness this reunion, this raw display of love and pain. But there was nowhere to go. She was trapped with her own breaking heart.
Mike, still holding Eleven, leaned back just enough to look into her eyes. "I never gave up on you," he said, his voice filled with a quiet intensity. "I called you every night. Every night for—"
"353 days," Eleven finished for him, shaking her head as tears welled up in her eyes. "I heard."
The confirmation hit Scarlett like a punch to the gut. She had been alone, too, lost and searching for answers, just like Eleven had been. But unlike Eleven, no one had been searching for her. No one had been calling her every night, counting the days until they could find her again. The realization was too much, and she bit down hard on her lip, trying to stop the tears that were threatening to spill over.
Steve, ever observant, noticed Scarlett backing away, her body pressed up against the corner of the room as if she could disappear into it. He knew how hard this was for her, knew the pain that was ripping through her. Without a word, he walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a protective embrace. Scarlett couldn't hold it in anymore. She broke down, sobbing into Steve's chest, her tears soaking his shirt as she clung to him like a lifeline.
Meanwhile, Mike, still reeling from the reunion, looked at Eleven with a mix of anger and confusion. "Why didn't you tell me you were there? That you were okay?" His voice cracked with the accusation, his hurt evident.
"Because I wouldn't let her," a gruff voice cut in. Hopper stepped forward, his expression as hard as stone.
Scarlett's head snapped up, her eyes wide with shock as she stared at Hopper. The sobs caught in her throat as she struggled to comprehend what she had just heard. Mike was equally stunned, his gaze swinging from Hopper to Eleven and back again.
Hopper stepped closer to Eleven, his face lined with guilt and regret. "The hell is this? Where you been?" he demanded, his voice rough.
Eleven's expression hardened, anger flashing in her eyes. "Where have you been?" she shot back, her voice laced with hurt. Despite her anger, she stepped into Hopper's arms, and he pulled her into a tight hug, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
Scarlett couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Holy shit," she whispered under her breath, her mind racing to catch up with the revelations. Hopper had been hiding Eleven this entire time, keeping her away from everyone, from Mike, from her.
Mike, finally understanding the truth, felt his anger boil over. "You've been hiding her," he spat, his voice rising. "You've been hiding her this whole time!" His rage was so intense that he shoved Hopper, unable to contain the betrayal he felt.
Hopper caught Mike's arm, his grip firm as he spoke through gritted teeth. "Hey! Let's talk. Alone." The command in his voice was unmistakable, and Mike glared at him, but he didn't resist as Hopper led him out of the room and into Joyce's bedroom, leaving the others in a tense silence.
Scarlett, still shaken, pulled away from Steve, her eyes locking onto Eleven's. She could feel her anger bubbling up again, but this time it was directed at the girl who had just returned. "Hey," she called out, her voice sharp with emotion.
Eleven turned to face her, her expression guarded. "You. Seven. Long time."
Scarlett folded her arms across her chest, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Yeah, well, you remember me, I guess, but I don't. Also, I don't go by Seven."
Eleven narrowed her eyes. "Don't remember you either." With a swift motion, she pulled two folded newspapers from her pocket and shoved them into Scarlett's chest. "But here's this."
Scarlett took the papers, her hands trembling slightly as she unfolded the first one. The headline jumped out at her immediately: "Newborn Baby; Daughter of Famous Model Cynthia Fletcher; She says that her daughter was kidnapped." The words blurred in front of her eyes as she read on, her heart pounding in her chest.
Cynthia Fletcher was part of Project MKUltra and she claims Dr. Martin Brennar took her newborn child because she had supernatural abilities. But doctors claim that Cynthia was high on drugs and when the baby was born it was a stillborn because of the drugs. Cynthia claims she wasn't on drugs and she heard her child screaming when she was born before Cynthia was knocked out. The power went out that night, so there are no official records if Cynthia was lying or not because she was on drugs. Cynthia quotes, "Baby, if you're out there. If you ever see this, I love you." Cynthia named her child Michelle Ann Fletcher.
Scarlett's breath caught in her throat. Michelle Ann Fletcher. Her real name. The name her mother had given her before she was taken. She barely noticed the chaos around her, Max's tentative approach to Eleven, the shouting from Mike and Hopper in the other room. Everything faded as she stared at the name, her name, printed on the yellowed paper.
With shaking hands, she opened the second newspaper. The headline was shorter, more direct, but it hit her just as hard: "Cynthia Fletcher, Famous Model, shot to death."
Her eyes raced over the article, the words blurring together as tears filled her eyes.
Cynthia Fletcher, the woman who claimed her child was kidnapped, but she was just on drugs—has been shot to death at Hawkins Lab. She broke into the Lab with Terry Ives. They were both claiming their late newborns were kidnapped by Dr. Martin Brennar because they had "supernatural abilities" but Cynthia and Terry were both on drugs when they gave birth. Fletcher was shot by a security guard, while Terry had a traumatic brain injury and now she can't speak.
Scarlett's grip on the paper tightened, crumpling the edges as her whole body began to shake. Tears streamed down her face, uncontrollable now as she realized the truth. Her mother, her real mother, had died trying to find her. She had died believing that her baby had been taken, had never stopped searching for her. And Scarlett, or Michelle as her mother had named her, had never even known.
"Oh my God," she whispered, her voice trembling as she tried to process it all.
Max, who had been watching her closely, finally stepped forward, concern etched on her face. "Scarlett... what's wrong?"
Scarlett looked up at her, her eyes red and puffy from crying. "My biological mom... she was killed by the lab. They were covering up that I was kidnapped... My mom never got justice. She never found me. She—she died not knowing I'm safe now and that I got away. My — My real name is Michelle Ann Fletcher." Her voice broke on the last word, and she covered her face with her hands, unable to hold back the sobs that wracked her body.
Max reached out, pulling Scarlett into a tight hug. "I'm so sorry," Max whispered, her own voice shaky as she tried to comfort her friend.
But nothing could comfort Scarlett at that moment. The truth had been hidden from her for so long, and now that she knew, it felt like the weight of the world was crashing down on her. The room around her seemed to spin as she clung to Max, her tears soaking Max's shoulder.
The kitchen was crowded, the tension palpable as the group gathered around the table, their faces a mix of worry and determination. Eleven stood with them now, her presence both a comfort and a stark reminder of the dangers they faced. Hopper was in the middle of explaining the situation, his voice grave.
"It's not like it was before. It's grown. A lot. And that's considering we can even get in there. The place is crawling with those dogs."
Dustin, always quick to jump in, couldn't help himself. "Demo-dogs."
Hopper turned to him, his expression a mix of confusion and irritation. "I'm sorry, what?"
Dustin shrugged, looking slightly sheepish but still proud of his term. "I said, uh, Demo-dogs. Like Demogorgon and dogs. You put them together, it sounds pretty badass—"
Hopper cut him off, his patience wearing thin. "How is this important right now?"
Realizing his mistake, Dustin mumbled, "It's not. I'm sorry," and fell silent.
The room was heavy with unspoken fears, everyone grasping for some sense of control in a situation that felt increasingly beyond their reach. Eleven's voice broke through the quiet, steady and resolute. "I can do it."
Hopper looked at her, his expression softening slightly, but there was still worry etched in his eyes. "You're not hearing me."
But Eleven didn't waver. "I'm hearing you. I can do it," she repeated, her voice firm, her eyes filled with a quiet determination that silenced the room.
Mike stepped forward, his voice tight with concern. "Even if El can, there's still another problem. If the brain dies, the body dies."
Max frowned, confusion flickering across her face. "I thought that was the whole point."
"It is," Mike explained, his voice dropping as he tried to keep his emotions in check. "But if we're really right about this... I mean, if El closes the gate and kills the Mind Flayer's army..."
Scarlett's heart sank as the realization hit her. Her eyes widened, and she spoke up, her voice barely above a whisper. "Will's a part of that army."
Mike turned to her, his face pale as he nodded, the weight of his words heavy on his shoulders. "Closing the gate will kill him."
The gravity of the situation settled over them like a dark cloud, the implications of what Mike was saying hanging in the air. The group was silent, each of them grappling with the potential cost of saving their friend.
Joyce, however, wasn't willing to give up. She stepped forward, a look of determination crossing her face as an idea began to form. "He likes it cold," she said suddenly, breaking the silence.
Hopper frowned, confusion knitting his brows together. "What?"
"It's what Will kept saying to me. He likes it cold." Joyce repeated, her voice growing more certain as she spoke. She moved quickly to the window, shutting it to block out the cold night air. "We keep giving it what it wants."
Nancy's eyes lit up as she realized what Joyce was suggesting. "If this is a virus, and Will's the host, then..."
Jonathan stared at his younger brother, his expression torn between fear and determination. "Then we need to make the host uninhabitable."
Nancy nodded, following the thought. "So if he likes it cold..."
Joyce turned back to the group, her voice resolute. "We need to burn it out of him."
The room went still, the weight of her words sinking in. Scarlett felt a surge of resolve. She couldn't let this happen to Will—not when she had the power to help. She took a step forward, her voice strong. "I can do it."
All eyes turned to her, but it was Mike's reaction that caught her attention. His face twisted with concern and fear. "Scar, no. You can't. You could hurt yourself."
Scarlett's eyes hardened, her gaze locking with his. "Wheeler, stop calling me Scar. You lost that privilege, and I can do it. Just because I died that one time does not mean I will every time I use my powers. Will needs me. I can burn it out of him."
Mike froze, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. She wasn't calling him "Freckles" anymore—the nickname she had always used with affection. Instead, she was calling him "Wheeler," the way everyone else did. It was a small shift, but it spoke volumes. She was putting distance between them, and the realization made his stomach churn. He had lost something with Scarlett, something that used to feel unshakable. The nickname had been a small piece of their connection, a reminder of their closeness. Now, it was gone, replaced by a colder, more formal acknowledgment.
Mike opened his mouth to argue, to tell her that she was wrong, but the words stuck in his throat. What could he say? She was right—they needed to save Will, and she was one of the few people who could make a difference. He just couldn't bear the thought of her putting herself in danger again.
Scarlett, seeing his struggle, softened slightly. "I can help, Mike. We have to do it somewhere he doesn't know this time."
The room was heavy with tension, but her words cut through it, bringing a sense of urgency back to the group. "Yeah, somewhere far away," Dustin added, his voice barely above a whisper.
The group exchanged looks, the enormity of what they were about to do settling in. Scarlett's heart raced as she mentally prepared herself for what was to come. She knew this wouldn't be easy—it could go wrong in so many ways—but she couldn't let fear paralyze her. Not when Will's life was on the line.
Mike's eyes lingered on her, filled with a mix of emotions he couldn't fully express. He wanted to protect her, to keep her safe, but he knew he couldn't hold her back. Not now. He could only hope that she would be okay, that they all would.
As Joyce and Hopper began discussing logistics, Scarlett turned away from the group, trying to steady her breathing. She knew what she had to do, but the weight of it felt almost suffocating. She just hoped she was strong enough to see it through.
Scarlett sat quietly in the backseat of the car as they drove through the dark, winding roads toward the cabin where Hopper had hidden Eleven for the past year. The air was thick with tension, each of them lost in their thoughts, the weight of their mission pressing down on them.
Jonathan was in the passenger seat, holding Will carefully in his arms, while Joyce drove with a determination that belied the fear in her eyes. Nancy sat next to Scarlett, her hands clenched in her lap, her face a mix of anxiety and resolve.
When the car finally came to a stop, they all got out, the cold night air biting at their skin. The cabin loomed ahead, shadowed by trees, its small size making it seem insignificant against the enormity of what they were about to do. Jonathan shifted Will in his arms as they walked up to the cabin, each step feeling heavier than the last.
As they entered, the cabin was eerily quiet, the darkness inside making it feel even more isolated. Scarlett looked around, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. The place was sparse, just a few pieces of furniture and some basic supplies. It was clear that this had been a place of hiding, of survival. Scarlett's gaze fell on a small room off to the side, and she walked over to it, peering inside. It was El's room, she realized-simple and small, with just a bed and a few personal items scattered around. It was a stark reminder of the sacrifices Eleven had made, of the lonely life she had led to keep everyone safe.
Scarlett stepped back out into the main room as Jonathan and Joyce were moving Hopper's bed near a corner, making space for what was to come. Jonathan carefully laid Will down on the bed, his brother still unconscious, his face pale and sweat-soaked. Joyce moved quickly, tying Will's wrists and ankles to the bedposts, securing him so that the Mind Flayer couldn't make him harm himself-or them.
Meanwhile, Scarlett busied herself with the heaters, moving around the room with purpose.
She flipped the switches, and the heaters roared to life, the warmth immediately beginning to fill the cabin. She could feel the tension in the air, the way everyone was on edge, their nerves frayed. Jonathan's voice broke through the silence, his worry evident. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"
Scarlett didn't look at him as she continued working, but she could feel the doubt creeping in around the edges of her resolve. She reached up to adjust one of the heaters and realized she was still wearing Mike's jacket. She paused, her fingers brushing over the worn fabric, the faint smell of him lingering. It had been a comfort, a connection to him in the midst of all this chaos, but now...now it felt like a weight she couldn't carry.
With a sharp exhale, she pulled the jacket off and threw it onto the couch, her movements more forceful than she intended. She turned back to Will, who was still unconscious on the bed, and focused on the anger that was simmering just beneath the surface. She needed it-needed the heat of it, the electricity it generated in her veins. Her eyes flashed with blue, tiny sparks dancing across her irises as her powers began to stir.
Joyce's voice cut through the tense silence, firm and resolute. "This thing has had Will long enough. Let's kill the son of a bitch."
Nancy, ever practical, moved swiftly. She pulled a match from her pocket, struck it against the matchbox, and the tiny flame flared to life.
Without hesitation, she tossed it onto the block of wood they had placed in the middle of the room, and the fire began to crackle and spread, adding to the growing heat in the cabin.
Scarlett stood by, watching the flames grow, feeling the temperature rise. The anger inside her was like a coiled spring, ready to unleash.
She glanced at Nancy, who nodded in silent encouragement, then looked back at Will. Her knuckles cracked as she flexed her hands, feeling the energy build within her.
"I'm so ready," Scarlett said, her voice low but filled with determination.
She could feel the power coursing through her now, the blue electricity sparking more intensely in her eyes. She had been through hell and back, and she wasn't about to let this monster win.
Not again. Not ever. As the heat in the room continued to climb, she prepared herself for what she had to do--knowing that this time, she couldn't afford to fail.
The cabin had turned into a pressure cooker, the temperature rising with every passing second as they waited for Will to wake up. Sweat dripped down Scarlett's face, mixing with the faint remnants of blood from her earlier effort. Every nerve in her body was taut, thrumming with barely contained electricity, while anger simmered beneath her skin, fueling the power she needed to summon. Her heart pounded in her chest, matching the crackling rhythm of the energy that coursed through her veins.
Suddenly, Will jolted awake, his eyes snapping open, wide with fear and confusion as he realized he was tied down. "What's happening?" he asked, his voice trembling, and the fear in his eyes tugged at something deep within Scarlett.
But she couldn't afford to think about that now.
She was here to do a job-to save him, no matter the cost.
Joyce caught Scarlett's eye, and they exchanged a determined nod. This was it. No turning back.
Scarlett took a deep breath, feeling the electricity gathering in her fingertips, ready to be unleashed. She didn't shoot it out in front of her like she normally would. Instead, she spread her arms to her sides, letting the energy build around her first, wrapping herself in its crackling embrace. She could feel the heat of it, the raw, untamed power that thrummed within her, desperate to be released. Her mind raced through all the things that had fueled her anger—the pain, the betrayal, the fear. Mike leaving her in the dark, the secrets, the isolation-everything that had happened to her had led to this moment. And she would use every ounce of it to save Will.
With a grunt, Scarlett shot her eyes open, her vision sharpening with the intensity of her focus.
Her fingers crackled with electricity, bright blue sparks dancing across her skin as she finally let it go, sending the charged energy straight toward Will. The electricity slammed into him, crackling across his body as he grunted in pain.
His muscles convulsed, and he struggled against the bindings, his voice rising in a tortured wail.
"It hurts! It hurts! It hurts!" Will groaned, thrashing on the bed as the electricity surged through him, burning through the Mind Flayer's shadow that had taken hold of him. Scarlett's breath hitched, her chest tightening as a tear slipped down her cheek. This wasn't supposed to happen-it wasn't supposed to hurt him like this. But she couldn't stop. She had to keep going.
Scarlett clenched her fists harder, the electricity crackling louder, brighter around her and Will.
The room filled with the sharp scent of ozone as the energy whipped through the air, charging everything around them. Will's screams cut through the crackling static, pleading for his mother, for Jonathan, to let him go. But Scarlett's focus never wavered. She couldn't afford to lose control-not when she was this close.
Her eyes, once bright and sharp, were now bloodshot, the strain of her power taking its toll.
Her vision blurred, but she pushed through, ignoring the dizziness that threatened to pull her under. She had to keep going. She had to finish this.
Joyce, watching her son writhing in agony, desperately turned up the heaters, trying to push the Mind Flayer out. "Mom!" Jonathan called, panic edging into his voice as he watched Scarlett's face pale, her body shaking with the effort of maintaining the intense flow of electricity. "She's going to drain herself!"
Nancy, standing off to the side, wiped away the tears that had started to stream down her face.
She had never seen Will in so much pain, and seeing Scarlett push herself to the brink like this...it was too much.
Scarlett screamed in unison with Will, the sound raw and filled with the unbearable weight of her struggle. Her feet lifted off the ground as the electricity around her expanded, forming a glowing, crackling bubble that encapsulated her entire body. Her hair lifted with the static, and her breath came in ragged gasps as she forced more and more of her power into Will, trying to drive out the darkness that clung to him.
Jonathan's voice broke through the din, desperate and pleading. "It's not working! It's not working! Mom, Scarlett, are you listening to me?"
But Joyce's voice cut him off, her tone sharp with determination. "Just wait!"
"How much longer?" Jonathan shouted, his fear for Scarlett overtaking his reason. "Scarlett's going to drain herself!"
"Jonathan, wait!" Joyce insisted, but the panic in her voice was starting to show.
"You're killing him!" Jonathan yelled, his gaze locked on Scarlett as she clenched her jaw, screaming with the effort of pouring every last ounce of energy she had into Will. The electricity surged, and Will's body convulsed violently, his screams filling the cabin.
Black veins began to crawl up Will's neck, spreading across his skin like poison. Then, a guttural, inhuman scream tore from Will's throat, echoing through the room-a sound that didn't belong to him. It was the Mind Flayer, fighting back with all its might.
Will broke one of the ropes that held him, his hand shooting up to tear at the other bindings, but Joyce grabbed his wrists, trying to hold him down. Suddenly, Will's hand shot up, wrapping around Joyce's neck, choking her with a strength that wasn't his own.
Scarlett's heart lurched in her chest as she saw
Joyce's face turning red, her eyes wide with terror. "Will, let go!" Scarlett screamed, but she could feel her focus slipping, her vision dimming as the last of her strength ebbed away. The dizziness became overwhelming, her head spinning as the room tilted around her.
"Will!" Scarlett screamed again, her voice cracking as she forced out another surge of electricity, sending a sharp jolt through Will's body. His grip on Joyce loosened, and she stumbled back, gasping for breath.
But it wasn't enough. Scarlett's vision blurred, her eyes bloodshot, and she could barely keep herself upright. She stumbled, her legs giving out beneath her, and she collapsed to the floor, both nostrils dripping blood.
Nancy's panicked voice cut through the haze as she grabbed a fireplace torch, her hands trembling. She lit it and thrust the flame toward Will, the fire licking at his skin. Will screamed, a horrible, guttural sound, and then-finally-the black shadow tore from his mouth, the Mind Flayer's presence ripping free from his body with a sickening, echoing scream.
As the shadow dissipated into the air, Scarlett let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, relief washing over her. But it was too late. Her strength had been spent, her body pushed far beyond its limits. Her eyes rolled back, and she slumped to the ground, unconscious, the room spinning into darkness around her.
Scarlett's eyes fluttered open, the harsh white light of the hospital room stabbing into her vision. She winced, groaning softly as her body slowly reminded her of the pain she had endured. Everything felt heavy, her limbs weak and numb. The sterile smell of antiseptic filled her nostrils, and as her senses slowly returned, she became aware of a presence beside her. She turned her head, her movements sluggish, and saw Mike sitting in a chair next to her bed, his face pale and drawn, eyes filled with worry.
"Scarlett..." Mike's voice was soft, tentative, as if he were afraid to break her. Relief washed over his features when he saw her awake, but Scarlett's heart only filled with a bitter, simmering anger.
"What happened?" she rasped, her voice raw from disuse. She struggled to sit up, but her body refused to cooperate. The anger in her chest grew hotter, more intense as she fought against the weakness that held her down.
Mike hesitated, his eyes flicking down to his hands, which were clasped tightly in his lap. "You... you got the shadow out of Will. He's okay now, but you... you drained yourself completely. You've been in a coma for a whole week."
Scarlett clenched her jaw, the anger bubbling up to the surface. "A whole week?" she echoed, her voice trembling with the effort to stay calm. She could feel the betrayal, the pain, swirling inside her, and her anger was the only thing keeping it all at bay. "Get out," she said, her voice low and cold.
Mike blinked, confusion clouding his features. "What? Scarlett, I—"
"Get out!" Scarlett snapped, her eyes flashing with a fury that made Mike recoil. She couldn't stand the sight of him, couldn't stand the thought of him sitting there, pretending to care after everything that had happened. Her mind flashed back to the image of him hugging Eleven, while she was left alone, crying in the corner, invisible and unwanted.
"Scarlett, I'm just trying to—"
"Trying to what?" Scarlett cut him off, her voice rising in pitch. "To make yourself feel better? To pretend you give a shit? Well, I don't want you here, Wheeler. Get out!"
Mike's confusion turned to frustration, his brows furrowing as he tried to make sense of her sudden outburst. "What the hell is wrong with you? I've been here every day, waiting for you to wake up!"
Scarlett's fists clenched, her nails digging into her palms as she fought to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. "Get the fuck out, Mike! I hate you!"
The words came out sharper than she intended, but she couldn't take them back. The moment they left her lips, she saw the hurt flash across Mike's face, his eyes widening in disbelief. He stared at her for a long moment, his expression twisting with pain.
"Fine," Mike muttered, his voice thick with emotion as he stood up, his movements jerky and stiff. "If that's what you want." He turned to leave, but not before throwing one last parting shot over his shoulder. "Maybe you're better off alone."
Scarlett felt the words like a punch to the gut, but she refused to let him see how much it hurt. She waited until the door clicked shut behind him before the tears finally broke free, spilling down her cheeks in hot, silent streams. Her chest heaved with the effort of holding back the sobs that threatened to tear her apart.
She barely had time to wipe away the evidence of her pain before Max burst into the room, her energy a sharp contrast to the dark cloud hanging over Scarlett.
"You missed what happened!" Max exclaimed, her voice tinged with excitement and pride. "When you left, Billy came and was trying to find out where you and I had been. He noticed you weren't there, and I tried to lie to him, said you were at a friend's house. But he knew it was bullshit, and he started looking everywhere."
Max paced the room, her hands gesturing wildly as she recounted the story. "Then he started trying to hurt Lucas, so Steve tried to beat the crap out of him. But Billy... he actually beat the crap out of Steve. So I grabbed the syringe they used to knock Will out, and I told him to stay away from our friends. And you know what? Now he knows not to fuck with us!"
Max finally stopped, turning to face Scarlett, her eyes shining with fierce pride. "I finally stood up to our brother, Scar!"
Scarlett forced a smile, nodding in encouragement even as her heart ached with the pain of everything that had just happened. "Good job, Max," she said, her voice wavering slightly. "I'm proud of you."
But as Max continued to talk, Scarlett's thoughts drifted back to Mike, and the way his face had crumpled when she told him she hated him. The guilt gnawed at her, but she pushed it down, refusing to let it consume her. She had made her choice, and there was no going back now.
ONE MONTH LATER
The day of the Snowball had arrived, and the air was filled with anticipation, though Scarlett and Max were anything but excited. For Max, the dread came from having to wear a dress, something she was not comfortable with. But for Scarlett, it was about something else entirely—she didn't want to see Mike.
For the past month, Scarlett had done everything she could to avoid Mike ever since the day she told him she hated him. The truth was, she didn't hate him at all. She was just mad—mad at how he had kissed her, made her feel something special, only to run back to Eleven the moment she returned. Scarlett couldn't shake the feeling of being used, like she was nothing more than a rebound.
In the weeks that followed, Mike had spent almost all of his time with Eleven, leaving Scarlett feeling more isolated than ever. She knew she should have expected it, but it still hurt. Meanwhile, Scarlett found herself gravitating towards Will. She felt a deep guilt for the pain she had caused him, but Will was understanding. He had told her he knew she had done what she had to do to save him. Their shared experience brought them closer, and they bonded over their love for comic book characters, something Scarlett had never really had a chance to explore before.
As the evening of the Snowball approached, Scarlett and Max were getting ready. Max's mom, Susan, was fussing over her, trying to tame her fiery hair into something presentable for the dance. Scarlett, on the other hand, was doing her hair alone. Despite living under the same roof, she had never really seen Susan as her mom. To Scarlett, Susan was just her stepmom, a reminder of her fragmented family. Her real mom, Maggie, was thousands of miles away in California, and her biological mom, Cynthia, was someone she never got the chance to know—she had died before Scarlett ever met her.
Scarlett finished curling her hair, the soft waves framing her face in a way that made her look older, more mature than she felt. She was lost in thought when Billy's voice pulled her back to reality.
"You look really pretty, Scar," Billy said, standing in the doorway. His tone was sincere, but Scarlett couldn't bring herself to respond with the same warmth.
She looked over at her brother, her expression blank. Things between them had been strained lately. They hadn't talked much since everything that had happened, and Scarlett had been avoiding him just as much as she had been avoiding everyone else, except for Max and Will.
"Thanks," Scarlett replied, her voice devoid of emotion. She didn't want to deal with Billy, not now, not with everything else on her mind. She brushed past him, grabbing her coat as she headed towards the front door.
"Max, let's go!" Scarlett called out, her voice echoing through the house. She stood by the door, adjusting the sequined dress that hugged her figure. The dress was beautiful, shimmering in the light, but Scarlett couldn't shake the feeling of discomfort. She didn't want to go to the Snowball, didn't want to face Mike, didn't want to deal with the emotions that had been bubbling beneath the surface for the past month.
Max appeared at the top of the stairs, her hair neatly done and wearing a dress that matched her fiery personality. She looked as uncomfortable as Scarlett felt, but there was a spark of determination in her eyes, the same spark that had been there ever since she stood up to Billy.
"Let's get this over with," Max muttered as she descended the stairs. Scarlett nodded in agreement, her heart heavy with a mix of dread and unresolved emotions.
As they walked out the door together, Scarlett couldn't help but wonder what the night would bring. She wasn't sure she was ready to face Mike, but there was no turning back now. The Snowball awaited them, and with it, the confrontation she had been avoiding for weeks.
When Scarlett and Max arrived at the Snowball, they walked up to Mr. Clarke, who was busy checking everyone in. "Have fun, girls!" Mr. Clarke exclaimed with a warm smile as he waved them inside. The two girls pushed open the gym doors, the muffled sounds of music and laughter growing louder as they stepped into the brightly decorated space.
"There they are!" Max pointed out as she spotted Mike, Lucas, and Will standing together near the edge of the dance floor. But before she could take a step forward, Scarlett grabbed her wrist, holding her back.
"I'm not going over there," Scarlett muttered, her voice tense. Max turned to her with a concerned look.
"Come on, Scar. It's just Mike," Max said, trying to be encouraging. "I still don't really understand why you told him you hate him, but you need to face up and talk to him. It's been a month."
Scarlett shook her head, resolute. "You go have fun with them... I'm just gonna hang around by the bleachers." Before Max could protest, Scarlett slipped away, disappearing into the crowd. Mike had been watching them the entire time, a frown etched on his face.
Max approached the group with a smile, trying to push aside her worry. "Hey, guys."
"Where did Scarlett go?" Mike asked immediately, his frown deepening.
Max sighed, feeling a bit helpless. "She didn't want to come over here. Sorry." Mike's frown only grew, and he turned his gaze back to the dance floor, clearly troubled.
Meanwhile, Scarlett made her way to the refreshment table, where Nancy was chaperoning and pouring punch for the students. Scarlett picked up a cup, trying to avoid eye contact, but Nancy noticed her and offered a soft smile.
"Hey, Scarlett," Nancy said as she handed her a cup. "You doing okay?"
Scarlett nodded, taking a sip of the punch. "Yeah, I'm fine." Her tone was flat, clearly not wanting to engage in a deep conversation.
Nancy glanced across the room, noticing how Scarlett's eyes kept drifting towards the dance floor, specifically to where Max and Lucas were now dancing together. But her gaze lingered longest on Mike, who was sitting alone, looking down at the floor.
"You know," Nancy started, her voice gentle, "I think Mike's been really worried about you. Maybe you should go talk to him."
Scarlett sighed, knowing Nancy was probably right, but still hesitant. After a moment of silence, she finally relented. "Okay... I'll try."
She left the table and slowly made her way towards Mike, each step feeling heavier than the last. When she finally reached him, Mike looked up, surprise flickering in his eyes.
"Hey," Scarlett said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Hey," Mike replied, his voice cautious. There was a long pause, the tension between them thick.
"I'm... I'm sorry about what I said," Scarlett finally said, her words stumbling out. "I didn't mean it when I said I hated you."
"It's okay," Mike responded, though his eyes were searching hers. "But... why did you say it?"
Scarlett hesitated, not wanting to reveal the real reason. She forced a shrug and lied, "I don't know... I was just upset."
Before she could gather the courage to ask him to dance, the gym doors opened, and Scarlett saw Mike's eyes widen in surprise. She turned to see Eleven walking in, looking as radiant as ever. Scarlett clenched her jaw, feeling the sting of her emotions returning with full force. She watched as Eleven walked straight over to Mike, and Scarlett knew her moment was over.
Without another word, Scarlett turned on her heel and headed for the bleachers, her vision blurring with unshed tears. As she sat down, she couldn't hold them back any longer and let them fall, silently crying to herself.
Dustin, who had been watching the whole scene unfold from a distance, noticed Scarlett's distress. He made his way over, hesitant but determined to help. He stood awkwardly in front of her, scratching the back of his head before finally speaking.
"Uh... hey, Scarlett," Dustin stuttered, his voice filled with concern. "Do you... do you want to dance?"
Scarlett looked up at him, surprised. "Are you sure?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
"Of course," Dustin said, offering a small smile. "I mean, I'd love to."
Scarlett wiped her tears away quickly and nodded, allowing Dustin to help her to her feet. They walked to the dance floor, and as the music played, they began to dance. Dustin was visibly nervous, stuttering over his words as he tried to keep up the conversation.
"You know, Scarlett," Dustin began, his voice shaking slightly, "I... I kinda like you. A lot, actually."
Scarlett frowned, feeling a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry, Dustin. I wish I liked you that way, but..."
"It's okay," Dustin interrupted, his smile a little sad but understanding. "I just wanted to tell you."
Scarlett sighed, grateful for Dustin's honesty and kindness. She glanced over to where Mike and Eleven were now standing close, their hands entwined. She felt her heart sink as she watched Eleven rest her head on Mike's shoulder, and Mike's gaze drifted over to her. Their eyes met, and Scarlett could see the mix of emotions in Mike's expression—surprise, confusion, and something else she couldn't quite place.
Dustin noticed the look on her face and, with a spark of mischief, he suddenly had an idea. "What if we fake dated?" he suggested, his voice eager.
Scarlett turned to him, startled. "What? Why?"
"To get back at Mike," Dustin said with a grin. "I mean, it's obvious you like him."
Scarlett felt a blush creep up her cheeks. "How do you know?"
Dustin chuckled, shrugging. "It's obvious. But we could fake date, you know, make him jealous."
Scarlett looked back at Mike and Eleven, who were now sharing a kiss. The sight made her heart ache, and she felt a surge of frustration and hurt.
"Okay," she agreed, more out of spite than anything else. "Let's do it."
Before she could second-guess herself, Scarlett leaned in and kissed Dustin, making sure it was visible to anyone watching. Dustin's eyes widened in shock, but he quickly recovered, returning the kiss with a mix of excitement and nerves.
When they pulled away, both turned to look at Mike, who was now staring at them with a look of disbelief and jealousy. Scarlett saw the shock in his eyes, and for a brief moment, she felt a small, vindictive satisfaction. Mike's reaction confirmed what Dustin had suspected—he was jealous.
As Dustin and Scarlett continued to dance, she couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions—sadness, anger, and confusion. But for now, she pushed those feelings aside, determined to focus on the moment and what the night had unexpectedly become.
ASH SPEAKS!
and thats a wrap on season 2!!
yalllllll i know this whole season mike and scarlett have only had like angsty love this season but season three... woah. its gonna be ENEMIES TO LOVERS. likeeeee scarlett is gonna HATE eleven at the beginning of season three (dw by the end of season three she will like her)
BE READY YALLLL!!!
also have you guys noticed this chapter she hasnt called him freckles?? :(
its only gonna be wheeler or micheal for season 3:((
THIS HURTS ME AND IM THE WRITER
yes dustin and scarlett are fake dating now—but dustin will end up dating suzie next season. dustin lies and says she is just a friend (then tells scarlett later that night when everyone leaves that he's actually dating suzie) scarlett will not be in scoops troop, but she will help out a little bit (i have to work around it cause i want her to help mike find a gift for el) at the end of season three, scarlett will reveal that dustin and her were only fake dating to get back at mike
dont forget to vote and comment!! it helps us writers stay motivated:)
Bạn đang đọc truyện trên: Truyen247.Pro