— CHAPTER 3 —
HAVE YOU SEEN ME?

MONDAY 7th NOVEMBER,
1983

CATH'S friends puzzle her, and she means well by that — they are extraordinary in the most ordinary of ways (Daphne claims they're "about as interesting as drying paint", but she figures that's borderline offensive if you're describing your own friends).

She can't quite recall how she ended up with them. There was no limbo, no stage between the Before and the After. One minute, she was alone: floating aimlessly, trying her best not to look too purposeless, although maybe that's exactly what she was. And then, in a blink, she'd ended up sharing lunch tables and entering Science Fairs with the likes of Pamela Gillespie, Sandy Brooks and Gina Lawson.

     The three tightly-knit girls, she remembers, accepted Cath effortlessly — in the way they would accept a leaf drifting into their periphery, while obsessively craning their necks like hunchbacks over textbooks, on those lunch breaks sat underneath the beech tree by the school library.

     Having taken all of this into account, Cath would have liked to think it would be easy to reel Andrea into their group, however much she might stick out. But the instant souring of Pamela's face once she asks speaks more than words.

     The girl sucks in a sharp breath as she bundles a Maths exercise book into her arms. "Oh, I don't know, Cath..." she says doubtfully.

     "She's really nice," Cath feels her defences rising, but only coming out in a timid murmur. "I met her on the bus this morning. We had a nice chat on the way here."

     "I know. I've seen her in first period."

     "Oh?"

     "She was babbling on so much, I could barely concentrate."

     Cath's cheeks begin to burn, the same way they do every time she can feel what little courage she has diminishing; like a balloon pathetically deflating. "... Maybe she was just nervous?" she says, her voice squeaking nervously. She clears her throat.

     "Well, we were thinking of hitting the library at lunch, anyway."

     "Oh, cool," she smiles. "I'm sure she'd—"

     "— get bored stiff. Yeah, exactly."

     "Pam..."

    Spinning around, Pamela sets her eyes on Cath with a hard, stern glare. It's never deliberate (she thinks), but it's enough to make her cower, wondering what she had done wrong. For a fresh-faced and all-round pleasant girl, she could stare down even the most confident folk in Hawkins Middle until their mischievous smile would vanish in surrender. You would never think she was the offspring of the woman who infamously became the talk of the town years ago, after an owl attacked her hair thinking it was a nest.

     Pamela stretches her lips into a begrudging smile. "We're just busy today, that's all. Maybe some other day, okay?"

     She's barely opened her mouth to protest, although not quite sure what she would have started with, when a booming voice intercepts the conversation. "You GUYS!" exclaims Sandy, chestnut brown eyes ablaze with determination. "I just had the best idea for our Science Fair project..."

In November? Cath thinks to herself, quirking her brows in curiosity. She can't say she's surprised about Sandy's scheming months in advance, though — her strong-willed friend has been wired this way for as long as she's known her. Every year, Sandy Brooks makes it her mission to win the Hawkins Middle Science Fair. And every year, until the last with their prize-winning levitating pen experiment, she has failed. It's no wonder her appetite for victory has increased tenfold.

     "Sandy, the Science Fair's in Spring..." Gina remarks, vaguely disinterested. "Can't we just call it a year and say your had your moment of fame?"

     She pushes her glasses, so remarkably large that they magnify her pupils to the size of saucers, up her nose. For one of the fiercest competitors in the school debate team, Gina has always appeared to Cath as surprisingly nonpartisan to anything subjective that isn't discussed over a timed argument. She even struggles to choose which sandwich to have for lunch in the cafeteria, hence why she recently resorted to homemade tuna salad sandwiches.

     "Yeah, but do we want those boys to beat us again, like they did every other year?"

     "I don't really c—"

     "No! We don't!" Sandy interjects, evoking a bored shrug from Gina.

     "So what's your idea?" asks Pamela, prim and proper.

"One word: crystals."

"Crystals?!"

"Exactly. You know everyone else is just gonna do the same volcano experiment again, and again, and again, but have you ever seen multi-coloured crystals at the Hawkins Middle Science Fair? Not in all my years, I haven't... my Mom says she's gonna buy the supplies for us, because she knows this place where they sell the chemicals for it..."

"Hey guys," Cath speaks up, clocking her classroom that's growing closer with each step. "This is my class, so I'm gonna... go..." No reply as the girls keep talking. Sucking in a breath through her nose, she steps out of their small cluster towards the propped-open doorway. "Bye, guys!" she gives a small wave to the girl's backs, their movements still animated and absorbed in conversation as she watches them disappear down the hallway.

She sighs. It's okay. You'll see them at lunch.

Clutching the handle of her bag, she pokes her head slowly into the Science classroom, empty for all but one. Mr. Clarke — a fairly tall, slender man, with a moustache and a new kind of knitted tank top every day — rests his cheek on a fisted hand as he flips through a student's book, when he senses her presence. He looks up from his work and smiles warmly.

"Hello Cath," Mr. Clarke greets her fondly. "Right on time. And by that, I mean early as usual!"

Cath simpers, chuckling breathily as she begins to wade past the empty desks to her very own one nearer the back. She lowers herself gently into her seat, setting her bag down on the floor without a hint of a racket, before she remembers that she needs her pencil case and books, so stoops bashfully to pick it up again.

"How was your weekend?" asks Mr. Clarke. He was a tall, slender man, with a moustache and a new kind of knitted tank top every day. His jovial personality bled into his teaching, and since having him Cath could have sworn she'd never been so excited about bonding atoms until then.

She wrinkles her nose and purses her lips into a smile. "Pretty average, I guess. I mostly did homework."

"Well, you can't go too wrong with that."

"Um, how was yours?"

"Oh, it was good, thank you! Mostly marking for me..."

Cath nods, engaged in the light conversation. She couldn't do this with any other teacher than Mr. Clarke — she adored him, and she really hoped he could sense that. His jovial and inquisitive personality always bled into his teaching, and had founded the bedrock of a newfound love for the Sciences that she had never felt until now. Particularly Biology, which was her favourite. Although she couldn't deny that watching him enthusiastically bound up and down in front of a giant Periodic Table was encouraging to any student.

Gradually over the next ten minutes, students begin to file in: first individually, then in smaller clumps, then larger groups, and before long almost all of the seats are occupied. It's when the class is alive with indistinct chatter that a familiar face emerges at the doorway.

Cath fiddles with her pen as she watches Andrea laugh when introducing herself to Mr. Clarke, instantly falling into a natural-looking conversation with him. It is as if they'd been friends for years — kind of the way Cath had felt when the new girl struck up a conversation with her on the bus.

As Mr. Clarke claps his hands to catch the attention of his class, Andrea's eyes eagerly search the various faces around the room from the front. A pang of unexpected joy billows through Cath's heart when their gazes finally meet, and the girl grins cheekily at her with a comfortable familiarity.

As if they'd been friends for years...

"Now, as you may have noticed, we have a new student in our class today," Mr. Clarke gestures grandly to the radiant girl beside him. "All the way from Chicago, please give a very warm welcome to Andrea!"

Andrea smiles at all of the students, who look at her from the other side of the glass in a zoo, with a new hint of nervousness Cath has never seen in her before (or at least, in the few hours that they've known each other). It suddenly occurs to her how many times she's moved around the country, and equally how many times she's had to start fresh — she can't possibly imagine being born and bred anywhere else but Hawkins, Indiana.

"We hope you enjoy your time in Hawkins Middle, Andrea." says Mr. Clarke with a friendly nod. "Please, take a seat. There's one spare here in the front."

Andrea strides over to her desk, plonking her bag down on the floor beside her and loudly unzipping it. Cath's initial disappointment over her not occupying the empty desk next to her vanishes quickly, when she bites back a grin at Andrea's attempt to get chummy with her neighbour, Mindy Novak, only to receive a brain-dead stare in return. It's only when Mr. Clarke starts detailing what they'll be covering in today's lesson when she remembers who is supposed to be sitting there, and who, in fact, is not there right now. It poses a strangely worrying question in her head:

Where's Will?

The Byers boy never misses a class, especially if it's taught by Mr. Clarke. Cath begins to justify it as a sick day, but instinctively recalls numerous times where he's been here, anything from the common cold to borderline nausea, and the poor soul still persists. Over the passing fifty minutes, she can't get over how overwhelmingly obvious his absence is, or at least to her.

His chair is so... empty. Like a gaping hole; disconcerting.

When the lesson has concluded, Cath is still going over this unsettling feeling when Andrea falls into step next to her. Relief washes over her, the wave beating against her troubles but not strongly enough to carry them with it.

"Good to see you again, Cather," Andrea says casually. Then she stops. "You don't mind if I call you that, do you? I thought of it in class just now."

"No, not at all."

Cath can't help but grin. Cather.

"So how's your day going so far?"

"Great so far, yeah! I mean, 'course it takes some adjusting, but I've been here, there and everywhere, so..."

"Um," she glances at her with an awkward curiosity. "So, have you met Mr. Clarke before, or something?"

Andrea throws her head back laughing, and Cath wonders if she's laughing at her or with her. "Met him?" she gives a good-natured chortle. "He's my next door neighbour! Super cool guy. Who knew he was gonna be my Science teacher, huh? It's a small world..."

     Cath tries to think of something witty to say, but nothing immediately springs to mind. There's also the fact that the Principal has just emerged into her line of sight, over shoulder, and submerges her temporary calm in confusion. And then he's making his way over to her, walking briskly with purpose. She swallows thickly.

     "Ahem," he clears his throat as politely as possible, both of the girls looking up at him. "Pardon me. Catherine, would you mind if I borrowed you for a moment, please?"

     She exchanges a look with Andrea, who seems as clueless as she is and shrugs, before smoothing her hands over her pleated skirt. "Um... yeah, sure." she finally stammers. Paranoia begins to set in. What does he want?

     After a brief departure from her new acquaintance, Cath walks alongside the Principal down the hallway, carefully trained on the concern etched in his face. And that has to do with her? She starts to panic. There isn't a single thing she's ever done that could possibly warrant a visit to the Principal's office... right?

     Upon reaching his office, the shutters closed across the small window that is usually transparent, the Principal hastily opens the door. At first, Cath swears she has several heart attacks all at once — thanks to the three policemen, including the Chief, staring at the girl. Jim Hopper looks at her for a moment, almost sizing her up, before he gives a gentle shake of his head and exhales sharply through his nose.

     "Don't worry kid, you're not in trouble," he says gruffly, eyebrows raised at the petrified girl frozen in the doorway. "Have a seat."

     Cath looks from Hopper to the Principal, alarmed, before she wills her feet to move without feeling faint. She's thankful to have lowered herself onto the small fold-up chair set out for her, as she clasps her hands in her lap to stop them trembling. Something rustles on her right, and she follows the sound — only now does she notice the three occupants on the couch, Lucas Sinclair, Mike Wheeler and Dustin Henderson. She knows them mostly from the Science Fairs, where they stood as the main competition since they, along with Will, won every year. Last year was the only exception. They lean forward and stare at her now, judgemental and sceptical of her presence here.

Hopper sighs lightly, but the room is so pin-drop silent that it fills the room like a siren. "Alright..." he begins, his chair creaking as he leans forward. "All I need you to do is answer some questions I've got here, and I need you to answer them as honestly and clearly as possible. You got that?"

The four youngsters nod vigorously in unison.

Lucas cups his hand over Mike's ear, failing to be discreet, and whispers, "Why is she here?"

Good question, Cath thinks, still confused about what on Earth is going on.

"For the same reason you're all here..." Hopper clenches his jaw, his patience with the kids already seeming to dwindle. "Mrs. Byers gave us a list of names, all people who might've seen Will in the last twenty four hours."

"Seen him?" she echoes, even more perplexed now.

Dustin looks round at her and states matter-of-factly, "Will's gone missing."

At first the words don't sit right with her. They fly right over her head without much thought. But then she regurgitates them, digests them again, and only then does she feel the knot in her stomach beginning to tighten with every breath, with every second that her understanding of the situation grows.

Will's gone missing.

Chief Hopper grimaces, letting his notepad fall down onto his lap. "Whoa, hold your horses a minute... let's just get something straight from the get-go. I do the talking. Unless I ask you a question, you keep your mouth shut. And for the love of God, keep it to one at a time. That's the golden rule."

She hears the golden rule, loud and clear, but it holds no meaning for her right then. How can it when Will's gone missing? Cath has so many questions and no voice to ask them with. All she can think of is Will, out there somewhere: cold, scared and alone. The emptiness of his chair in Mr. Clarke's class now feels all the more like a vacuum. What if someone took him? What if he's trapped somewhere? Is he even alive—?

Her eyes are almost watering when a voice calling her name brings her back round.

"Catherine?" the Principal asks in concern. "Are you alright?"

Everyone is staring at her. Cath's throat is bone-dry, unable to form saliva — every time she moves her parched lips they click. Her mind scatters like a scared rabbit being hunted. Embarrassed over what her voice may sound like if she speaks, she settles for a convincing enough nod. Hopper continues from where he left off.

     "... So you were... racing?"

     "It was me and him, actually." Dustin clarifies.

     Then Lucas chips in. "My house is the first up—"

     And Mike, "He takes Mirkwood home—"

     "We were racing on a bet and—"

     "Whoa, whoa, whoa. One at a time." Hopper points a finger at Mike. "You. You said he takes... what?"

     "Mirkwood." says Mike sincerely.

     "'Mirkwood'?" Turning to Callahan, who Cath has only recognised now to be Gina's uncle, Hopper mumbles, "You ever heard of a 'Mirkwood'?"

     Callahan shakes his head. "Sounds made-up." Seeing that his niece's friend has now noticed he's there, he gives a small wave her way, which Cath tries to return with an awkward nod.

     "It's from 'Lord of the Rings'." says Lucas.

     Agitation suddenly blooming on his face, Dustin's eyes narrow. "'The Hobbit'."

     "It doesn't matter!"

     "He asked—!"

     "Hey!" Hopper raises his voice, startling Cath. "What'd I just say? One at a damn time." He points at Mike again with a groan. "You."

     "Mirkwood. It's a real road. It's just the name that's made-up."

     "What's it's real name?"

     "I don't know," Mike admits, and tries to demonstrate an intersection with his hands. "It's where Cornwallis and Kerley meet."

     At the mention of Kerley road, Cath perks up in her chair for the first time since being called in.

     "Yeah, I know it." says Hopper.

     "I live on Kerley— oh, sorry!" Cath clasps a hand over her mouth as she remembers the golden rule, feeling her palms sweat from the pressure, even though she hasn't even been questioned about anything yet. But the Police Chief still hears her comment, turning towards her in his chair as he finishes scribbling something down on his notepad.

     "Right. And that's where I come to you." Hopper makes eye contact with her and her heart begins to hammer in her chest. "So, you said you live on Kerley?"

     Cath nods. "Yeah, not too far from where it meets Cornwallis. Um... Will usually goes past our house on his way home. I'm guessing from their houses," she gestures to the boys, "or something."

     "Did he go that way last night?"

     "I saw him last night." She can almost hear his bicycle bell, the whirring and clicking of his bike wheels, the timid 'Hello' he managed to get out before he rode into the darkness. Who would have thought that was maybe the last time she'd ever see him? Cath, you're overthinking this, she scorns herself. "He just passed on his bike and we said hi, that's all."

     "Nothing happened afterwards?"

     "Um... no, I don't think so."

     "Alright..." Hopper gets back to jotting down notes on the paper. It's only once he starts writing that she also recalls stepping into the house, and the crash that followed once the door clicked shut. Suddenly the image of the bike this morning flashes across her memory too, accompanying the sound from the night before, as it lies strewn ominously in the rusted leaves. All at once they both come together to form a thought that seems so obvious now, and she's kicking herself for not realising it sooner. She might just burst if she doesn't say it now, but the golden rule stays in place.

     Cath's hand shoots up with the enthusiasm of a desperate school child, every person in the room noticing her 'Eureka!' moment, one-by-one. Hopper is the last to notice in the silence of it all, appearing somewhat amused when he looks up from his notes to find her arm waving in the air with an eager politeness.

     A hint of a smile threatens to show on his lips, but he hides it well as he blinks at her. "... You got somethin' else to say?"

     Her arm drops limp onto her lap, and she releases a large breath she had no idea she was holding. "Right after I saw Will, last night, I went back into the house. You see my cat, Ringo, had escaped and I'd been out there to fetch him. He never usually goes out like that, he's a pretty well-trained —" Cath senses the irrelevancy of her rambling as she notices the blank expression on the Chief's face, and gives a little shake of her head. "— anyway, the point is that once I got inside, we heard this huge crash outside."

     Something about her words sparks life into Hopper's eyes. A lead, perhaps. "Yes...?"

     "Yeah, and we tried looking out the window to see what it was, but there was just nothing. But then this morning I was waiting for the bus in that same place, and there was this bike just lying there — I mean, it didn't look like it had been put there, it was all twisted like it'd been thrown there or something. And maybe... I don't know, but maybe it could be his? Will's, I mean."

For a few moments, there is deafening quiet, and Cath wonders whether she said the right thing. Then she sees Hopper straighten posture in his chair and turn to Officer Powell.

"Note that down," he says. "We can head on down there after we're finished here. It's definitely a start."

Cath sinks into her seat, filled with a small but significant feeling of pride. Had she just helped the Police Chief simply with her own knowledge? She imagines them going to the location where the bike was, most likely to be Will's now, and wonders if they will be going to ask her father some questions too. Surely they will have to...

Mike tries to sit up and lean over from far away so he can see what they're writing, his fingers curling and nails digging into the corduroy couch. "Maybe... maybe we could help—"

"No, after school, you go straight home. All of you." Hopper suddenly snaps with an intensity that catches all four of them of guard. "That means no biking around looking for your friend, no investigating, no nonsense. This isn't some 'Lord of the Rings' book—"

"'The Hobbit'." Dustin re-iterates, not missing a beat. Lucas smacks his arm scoldingly, to which he returns the gesture, while Mike sat in the middle with his patience also being hacked away like Hopper's.

"Do I make myself clear?" he asks, ignoring Dustin's comment. When they don't answer, he repeats it more viciously. "Do I make myself clear?" This time they all nod, cowering in their seats with a newfound worry for the situation, the mood suddenly turning more serious.

It doesn't take long before they are dismissed to go back to class. The boys huddle together in a closed-off bubble of chatter, both excited and fearful. Cath shuffles behind them, trying her best not to be nosy and eavesdrop, only hearing strings of their conversation.

     "— Are you sure you guys didn't see Will last night?"

     "Lucas, it's literally 'The Hobbit', are you an idiot—?"

     "... I don't know, Dustin, are you annoying—?"

     "— Maybe we should ask her." All of a sudden, the three boys turn around to face Cath, their faces hardened and confrontational. She squirms uncomfortably at the sudden scrutiny, cornered with nowhere to go.

     Lucas takes a long look at her before squinting and folding his arms across his chest. "So..." he pauses, and tilts his head to the side. "You really saw Will last night?"

     "Y-yeah." Cath croaks, coughing to free her feeble voice.

     "Holy shit..." Dustin whispers, holding both hands on top of his baseball cap that weighs down his mass of curly brown hair.

     "This sucks," sighs Mike in defeat. A sudden determination seems to spark in him, his new conviction startling Cath. "I mean, surely we know the most about him, he's our friend!"

      "And now Cath knows too."

     "What... what about me?" she queries.

     Taking a step closer to her, Mike looks around him to check if the coast is clear. She feels her skin begin to tingle with a jittery nervousness that she wishes she could shake. "You know what this means, don't you?" he asks in a low voice. Cath shakes her head, not sure what he's getting at. The others bore their eyes into her as if they can't understand why she's struggling to catch up.

     Now reducing his voice to a confidential murmur, he tells her, "It means you were the last person to see Will."

━━━━━━

     ONE of her most vivid memories of Will Byers isn't even a recent one. Daphne remembers it like it happened yesterday, although at the time he was barely a month old. He was just an infant, tossing and turning in his cradle whilst Joyce tried to rock him to sleep, and she distinctly recalls how tiny he was. Even at eye level on her tip toes (for she was small herself at age four), with his sleepy little eyes and feather-soft skin untouched by life, Will was but a speck in the universe, with so much ahead of him.

She hates to think of him out there... somewhere... disappearing into the black hole, leaving not a trace behind.

The image never leaves her mind, as Daphne recounts the entire ordeal to Felix and Amy over an after-school burger at Benny's. Hopper's questions still reverberate in her head, taunting her — "When did you last see him?" "Do you see him often?" "Did anything strange happen last night?" — along with the useless answer that was her only one to every question. An empty "No." And just like that she was dismissed, with nothing but a precautionary word and a vague feeling of futility about it all.

When she eventually finishes her story, an uncomfortable silence settles on the table. The white noise of pans clanging and sizzling burgers on the grill from the kitchen fail to patter out the discomfort created from her very optimistic icebreaker.

"Well..." Felix finally manages to utter, "Shit."

That pretty much sums it up, Daphne thinks to herself with a sigh.

"I know." she murmurs dismally.

"He isn't very old, is he?"

"Nope." Amy answers, face soured from melancholy. "He's only, like, eleven."

"Twelve." Daphne corrects her. As she shrugs with a distasteful manner, as if it was a close enough guess anyway, it really hits her. He's only twelve.

It could have been Cath.

Felix's pupils dilate with concentration, staring thoughtfully at a point behind the two girls as he runs his hand over his chin and across his jaw. "So, you definitely didn't see him last night?" he queries, in a tone much like the one Hopper used in the principal's office this morning. Daphne squirms.

     "No, not at all. I mean he might've passed our house, but I didn't actually see him."

     Face strained with worry, she lets her hands fall weakly into her lap. Her ashamed guilt of being clueless about the whole ordeal multiplies with every passing minute, along with a newfound scepticism over it all. In all her seventeen years of being stuck in this town, suffocated by the faces who would never know her and yet know her a little too well, this is certainly new; she just feels awful that the only seismic activity in Hawkins had to grow from the vanishing of someone as innocent as Will Byers.

     Seeming to notice her visible concern, Felix leans in closer across the table, locking eyes with her in that intense way which always made her heart beat a little faster. It still does.

     He sighs. "Look, it's gonna be okay. How far could he have gone?"

     "It's not so much about where he went," counters Daphne, "than the idea that maybe... someone... I don't know, took him?"

     "Who would ever want to kidnap a kid like Will from this shithole?" Amy asks rhetorically in rebuke.

     "I'm serious!"

     "... Just relax, alright?" says Felix. "I'm sure he's fine."

The chair next to him is taken out, not a scrape against the floor, as a doe-eyed girl takes a seat in it with rosy cheeks, like porcelain frosted with blush. "Hey," Tonya coos, "I got some to share, if that's okay..." She sets a cardboard tray of fries in the middle of the table, rubbing her fingertips down on her skirt and fastening up her cardigan before smiling sweetly at them all. In the silence that follows she blinks, perhaps sensing the tension, before asking, "Did I... miss something?"

     Daphne feels herself slowly sinking into her chair. Bringing Tonya McCarthy as their tag-along wasn't her plan. Meeting two of the people she trusted most, she thought, at a place like Benny's Burgers to vent was intended to be neutral ground. But she couldn't tell them the full story now — not when she was following Felix everywhere he went like a train of ducklings.

     "No, it's okay," says Felix, "Daphne was just telling us about something from school today." He slings an arm around Tonya's shoulders to bring her in closer to him; Daphne flinches as though she's been pinched.

     "Oh?" says Tonya, interested. She begins staring at Amy, who has started creating a circle of ketchup on the tray's lid.

     Daphne stares at it too, trying to pretend she didn't just see Tonya's quick peck on his cheek. "It's nothing, really, it was just something that happened earlier today. I would tell you," she says, thinking that she most definitely would not, "but it might be kind of confidential, so I wouldn't want you to get into any trouble."

     "You mean that whole story you just told us about talking to the police in the principal's office?" Amy asks, dipping a fry into some ketchup and taking a bite. If she's noticed the betrayed glare she's getting from the chair next to her, Daphne thinks she must be a very good actress — or maybe she simply doesn't care.

     "Is this about Will Byers going missing?" Tonya says suddenly.

     Daphne blinks at her. "H-how did you—"

     "We all got told. And there's the search party tonight, of course."

     "Right, right, of course you did..."

     "Gosh, I can't imagine how Jonathan must be feeling. Jonathan Byers, I mean — Will's his brother, right?" At the confirmative nod from Felix, Tonya bows her head solemnly. "It's just not fair."

     Jonathan. God. That only occurs to her once Tonya has said it, that Joyce won't the only one losing her mind over his disappearance; come to think of it, he wasn't in school this morning either. Jonathan Byers is definitely not one of her closest buddies or anything — quiet, solitary and often alone, it's usually a case of getting used to seeing him skulk around Hawkins High by himself. And if he's not outside somewhere, he's cooped up in a small room developing photos, honing his craft.

     Daphne remembers the times when she and Jonathan were thrown together to play as children. She was a year older than him, but somehow he still managed to act like the big brother no matter how she tried to nurture like a big sister. He'd been like that ever since Will came along, she noticed. Even if they are only passing strangers in a hallway, who were closer once upon a childhood time, Daphne considers herself a companion of his that he should always be able count on (not that he's ever come to her, anyway).

     She likes to think he feels the same way about her, but sometimes she isn't so sure.

     "Well..." Tonya's harmonious sing-song voice intercepts the silence, once again, whilst Daphne is thinking about how she really needs to pay the Byers a visit. "Let's just pray that they find him safe and sound."

     There's a mumbling of agreements, well-wishes and hopeful thinking as she says this, which dies down as quickly as it arose; the tide changes. Amy, in an unusually lighthearted manner, pushes the plate of fries in Tonya's direction, an offering.

     "Oh, no thanks," laughs Tonya breathily, somehow unconvincing as she glances uneasily at the tray. "I had a huge lunch today, so... and of course, I need to watch this figure. You know, for ballet."

     Amy shrugs indifferently, pinching two fries between her fingertips and nibbling the ends of them. Felix and Tonya have started talking about something to do with their day, possibly ballet-related, although Daphne is too uncomfortable to try and tell.

She's trying to move on, she really is. Maybe it would be easier not to make comparisons between what was and what is, if it weren't for the fact that Felix and Tonya were now always attached at the hip and never further than arm's distance away from her. Sure, some part of her was still hanging onto the hope that she and Felix — the enchanting, whirlwind first love that she'd only seen in films and novels until they'd started dating — would somehow end up together in the end. Maybe she would wander back into his life like in 'Casablanca' and somehow choose her again. Or maybe not. But a girl can dream, Daphne thinks.

     Maybe a girl can dream too much.

     Whilst pondering young love, Daphne suddenly remembers her awkward bathroom encounter with Nancy and Steve. At the promise of a funny story to tell, she suppresses a grin, about to tap Amy's shoulder to tell the story when there's an almighty CRASH! of clanging metal from the kitchen.

     Benny huffs out a short sigh, turning down the heat on his grill before turning to walk briskly to the kitchen door, left ajar. And that's when Daphne sees him — or is it a her? She can't quite tell from here. Either way, through the crack in the door, the alert, deep brown eyes of a child presumably around Cath's age stare at her un-movingly. She manages to catch a glimpse of her in full view, taking in the buzzcut hair and the baggy yellow shirt, before Benny's figure blocks her view and the door clicks shut behind him.

     Lips parted, Daphne remains trained on the door once open to her. Something about the child cooped up in the back makes her stomach flip. For a moment she wonders where the child came from, but then she thinks she might rather not know. It just doesn't sit right with her for a reason she can't put her finger on.

     "Hey... did you just see the—"

     "Oh, shoot!" Even if it's a long shot from anything close to profanity, Tonya's outburst gives Daphne a start nonetheless. The girl examines her watch with self-scorn as she begins reaching into her purse on her lap.

     "What? What is it?" asks Felix, a concerned hand resting gently on the small of her back.

     "I'm so sorry, I just remembered..." she laughs bitterly and pinches the bridge of her nose. "I left my Art assignment in the studio this afternoon, and it's due tomorrow. I'm so stupid, honestly! I'm not usually this scatterbrained."

     "That's okay, we can just drop into school right now and get it."

     She perks up like a freshly watered flower, fresh with hope in an instant. "Wait, really?"

     "Sure we can."

     "Even tonight, after the warning they gave us?"

    "School hasn't closed yet. If we go now, we could just slip in and grab it. No sweat."

     "Oh, you're my hero, thank you!" Tonya beams dreamily, standing up and fishing her car keys out from her purse. "You guys don't mind, do you?"

Daphne strains through a smile. "No, of course not."

After bidding their goodbyes to Benny, who gives a friendly wave to Daphne as she leaves last and shuts the door behind her — "Come back any time, Delaney!" he called after her — she spots Tonya's unmistakable car parked outside. The mint green Mini blends in better during summertime, but in autumnal Hawkins against the reds, oranges, golds and browns, it looks remarkably out of place. Although even Daphne would have to admit, it's an enviably cute car.

Daphne and Amy part from Felix and Tonya to retrieve their bikes propped against the wall of Benny's — her curiosity peaks as she peers over the window's edge to perhaps get another glimpse of the strange child, but the blinds are drawn.

     "Don't you two want a ride?" asks Tonya, head tilting up to the heavens. "Looks like it's going to rain."

     "And if I were you, I wouldn't wanna be out in the dark when a little kid's gone missing." Felix adds, in a matter-of-fact tone.

     But Daphne tries to be resilient. "We're good," she replies, "We have our bikes anyway."

"We can just put them in the back."

Amy almost snorts, eyeing the Mini sceptically. "In there?"

"You'd be surprised what I can fit in that trunk," Tonya chirps. "Just call me Mary Poppins or whatever."

Sure enough, the bikes miraculously fit into her car, but only at the cost of Daphne and Amy being crammed together in the backseat the entire team. She realises then, watching from the back, that Tonya ironically really is like Mary Poppins — practically perfect in every way. Once Tonya has retrieved her assignment from school, so begins the journey of dropping them all off at home. Amy first, then Felix later on, until much to Daphne's dismay, it's just her riding shotgun with Tonya McCarthy in her mint green Mini.

For a couple of minutes, there is just the rattling of the tree-shaped air freshener hanging on the windscreen mirror, dangling and emitting an aroma of coconut. Daphne leans her head on the window, feeling the coolness of the glass on her skin and the vibration as the car lurches over bumps in the road.

All of a sudden Tonya pipes up and asks, "So, Felix tells me you're putting up environmental posters, is that right?"

"Yeah, yeah I am." Daphne responds. Sensing the awkward gap in the conversation, she licks her chapped lips and tries to pick it up further. "It's just simple stuff, you know, no littering and whatnot. It's pretty pointless though."

"What makes you say that?"

"It just is. No one ever seems to care about it."

"They're just stuck in their old ways," Tonya reassures, her eyes glued to the road but somehow still fully engaged in the conversation. "Who knows? In twenty years or so, if this global warming stuff really is happening like the scientists say, then they'll have to bow down to you because you were right along."

Daphne chuckles — genuinely, for the first time this afternoon. "I don't know about that... but thanks."

"Mmm." Tonya hums, before plunging into a switch of topic. "What would you like to do when you grow up?"

"Uhh..." she trails off, slightly startled by the suddenness of the question. "I'd like to go into the film industry. Directing and writing, mostly. I've loved movies for as long as I can remember, or at least fiction in general, so that would just be the dream."

"Aw, that's lovely. I have no idea about all the technical sides of film, the only thing I know is I'll watch anything so long as it has Patrick Swayze in it!"

Daphne laughs, surprising herself with how naturally it comes. Conversing with Tonya is a lot easier without Felix around to remind her of who she is. "I won't tell Felix you said that."

"Oh, he knows alright," Tonya says cheekily, "and between you and me, he gets real intimidated."

"He does?"

"Yeah. Does he usually get that worked up over celebrity crushes?"

Daphne nods and giggles at a memory she has of him, back from when they were still pining for each other. "I always used to wind him up by talking non-stop about Robert de Niro, and you should've seen the look on his face."

"I think I know exactly which one you mean." Tonya shakes her head with a grin. Suddenly her smile fades and her eyes grow side with doubt. "Am I talking too much?"

"No, you're not."

"Just tell me to shut up if you want," she glances hastily over at Daphne, who looks back confused, before turning to the road again. "I just ramble sometimes when I'm nervous and— oh, great, now you think I'm a nervous wreck... I promise I'm not usually like this!"

"Honestly, Tonya, it's okay." Daphne stares at her half-amused, half-perplexed at her sudden turn in mood. Awkwardness seeps in through the cracks of the car, and they fall into another quietness.

The sun is being dragged down by the earth when Tonya's Mini shudders to a halt in front of Daphne's house, the sky churning with dark clouds that threatened to crack open and release cascades of rain. She hops out of the quaint little car and so does Tonya, walking to escort her to the door — she didn't have to do that but Daphne ends up silently accepting the gesture.

She'd like to be her friend. Genuinely, she would. Tonya McCarthy has done nothing to hurt her or her friends, the only thing standing between them being this sticky predicament in which Daphne can't help but see her as 'The Girl Who Ruined Everything'. Or maybe it's that she can't help but feel flawed when she's around someone so perfect. She doesn't know for sure. But anyone would be crazy to be enemies with Tonya, possibly the most generous girl in Hawkins High.

"I love your house," says Tonya sleepily. "It's so small and cute."

Daphne isn't sure whether the small part is a dig or not — she decides it isn't, and chuckles. "So whereabouts do you live?"

"Just outside of Hawkins. I don't know why we don't just move here, it'd be easier."

"Would it? I'll take whatever chance I can get to escape this place."

Tonya tucks her dark locks behind her ears, eyes glowing amber in the light from the front porch. She puffs out a sharp breath and a misty cloud materialises in front of her. "Well, I'd best be off then. It's getting dark."

"Yeah. Um, take care." Not knowing what else to do, Daphne shoots her a thumbs up, cringing at herself as she fumbles for the keys to the house. She doesn't look back as Tonya drives off, the mint green Mini quickly swallowed by the darkness as she goes.

"Hey!" her father calls the minute she steps in, feeling the warmth of the house envelop her. She yells back a greeting and slips off her jacket, walking into the living room. Thomas stands on a stepladder, just screwing a lightbulb into the ceiling as she comes to stand in the doorway. "Flick on that light, would you?"

Daphne brushes a finger across the switch, instantaneously bathing the living room in a homely, yellowish-orange glow. Thomas outstretches his arms with pride and sighs in relief. "Look at what your old man's been up to today!"

"You've been doing that all day?"

"Yep. I was hoping to get it finished in the morning, but then I had some special visitors around just in time for lunch."

She freezes. "Let me guess: Hopper?"

"Hopper and the whole crew," Thomas nods, rolling down his sleeves again and glancing over at his daughter. "I take it you got questioned too?" When Daphne nods, his face tenses visibly. "So did Cath. Will's such a great kid, he doesn't deserve this."

"I don't think anyone deserves to go missing, Dad."

"No, of course not, but this is Will Byers."

     Daphne notices he's begun to pull on his burgundy jacket he wears for work. "Are you still working tonight?"

     "Yeah, making up for lost time," says Thomas as he snatches his keys from the kitchen table. "Alright, so there should be something to cook in the fridge, you can probably magic something up. Do your homework. Don't leave the house. And I'll see you when I come back. And remember to—"

     "Lock all the windows when you go to bed, but if you leave any open, open the ones facing the back yard."

     Thomas nods in approval, shouting his goodbyes to Cath upstairs and giving Daphne a quick pat on the shoulder before disappearing through the door.

     After raiding the fridge and cupboards for ingredients, Daphne settles on a classic Mac 'N' Cheese — the guilty pleasure of Cath's she always used to love her making when they were younger. Simply the smell of the cheese sauce is enough to summon her, creeping down the stairs and peering into the kitchen. Daphne shoots her a knowing look from the stove, grinning when she hears the high-pitched squeal of enthusiasm. When it's time to serve it, she looks defeatedly between the dished-out meals in ceramic bowls and the large remainder of paste and sauce in the dish.

     "Damn it, why do I always make too much of this stuff?" she mumbles to herself.

     "I'll help you eat it if you want!" Cath calls from the dining table.

     "No, I'm good," Daphne calls back, her smile heard in her voice as she takes a seat opposite her sister. "I know what I could do — I could go over to Will's house tomorrow and I could drop this by. You know, to keep Joyce and Jonathan going."

     Cath's face falls as she blows on the hot pasta in her spoon, eyes drooping with sadness as she seems to remember what's going on. "... Yeah. I'm sure they would like that."

     After taking a couple of bites, Daphne looks over at Cath opposite her. Something's on her mind. She's known her since she was born, she can tell. Cath always disappears further and further into herself under distress. "Did you get questioned about Will today?" she asks.

     Finishing a sip of water, Cath nods. "Yeah. Will's friends were there too — you know, Lucas, Dustin, Mike."

     "Oh, I was just on my own, I don't think I helped them much." Daphne stabs a macaroni shape with her fork. "How about you? Was your talk with the Chief as productive as mine?"

     "They told me I was the last person to see Will."

     "That's what they told me, too."

     "No, I-I actually— I seriously did see him last night. Right around when he went missing."

     For a moment Daphne's brain washes blank with confusion, not quite up to speed with what her younger sister has just said. She gazes at her quizzically, before finally questioning "... You did?"

     "Mhm. He drove past like he usually does. And his bike's still out there, further down the road, did you see it?" Cath asks. Nerves of revelation prickle the nape of Daphne's neck like brambles, as she begins to stammer with guilt. How had she not seen that? Cath places down her cutlery to make a box gesture with her hands as she adds, "They've put this blue and white tape around it, and they've squared off a section like this so you can't go in it."

     Falling back in her chair, Daphne stares off to the side in disbelief. Suddenly everything feels so much more real. The investigation has begun. They've probably started looking for him already today, walking aimlessly through the woods and calling his name.

     "They're doing a search party tonight." she says.

     "I know."

     "It sucks that we can't go." Anger boils up inside of her, a frustration at how useless she feels right now, sitting here eating Mac 'N' Cheese when she could be out helping the effort. "I mean, what are we supposed to do?" Daphne retorts. "Just wait around?"

     "Yes," Cath replies, sounding twice as old as she is. "There is nothing else we can do."

     But is there? She would beg to differ. Outside, it begins to rain. The pitter-patter of rain on the window would usually be soothing to her, but tonight, Daphne can only think of Will out there somewhere — drenched to the bone by himself. Maybe she wouldn't find him if she went. But what if she did? Either way, it would make her feel like less of a jerk.

     "Screw it." she says decidedly. "I'm going."

     "What?!" Cath squeaks, but she's already left the table and made a run for the door. "Daphne, you're going to get into so much trouble!" And she knows she's right. But she figures at least one of them can be of some use — Cath would be better off at home, too delicate and afraid of anything that moves to come along. She's only left her home alone once, and that was fairly successful, so surely she will be fine, right? Daphne ignores her sister's frantic footsteps as she shoves one arm through the coat sleeve, and then one through the other.

     "I can't just sit in this damn house, and rely on a bunch of adults and a drunk Chief of Police to find a little boy." Daphne rummages through the wooden chest of drawers in the hallway, until she finds a flashlight. She quickly flicks it on and off to test if it works. "I'll be back before nine, don't worry."

     "What if Dad comes home early?"

     "He won't."

     "But what if?"

     "Then I'll take the blame, I don't care. It's worth it if it means I'm not sitting here doing nothing..." She opens the door and pokes her head outside, watching the rain hit the wood on the porch. Daphne looks back at Cath, standing rigid in the hallway, her eyes alarmingly fearful in the evening light. Sighing sympathetically, she tells her, "It'll just be for a few hours, Cath."

     It fails to reassure her in the slightest. "A few hours?" Cath whimpers.

     "I'll be back before you know it!"

     And with one swift tugs, the door slams shut. Cath listens to the lock click, the turning of the key twisting her thumping heart into a tangled mess. Alone in the house, disturbingly quiet and dark at this time of night, the one thing she thinks about Daphne's heroic mission but couldn't find the words to say echoes off the walls:

     But where does that leave me?

━━━━━━

     ONE hour and twenty seven minutes have passed since Daphne left, and it is pouring.

The rainfall roars outside, so much so that it drowns out the TV program she'd switched on with the hope of distracting herself. But as it turns out, That's Incredible! is not the best show to be watching late at night, when you're a twelve-year-old who's has an immortal instinct to worry over everything. If only she hadn't finished Little Women when she did, or re-read it so many times that she could almost quote any line of Beth's — then she wouldn't be here hiding behind her pillow as the man on TV gets ready to drive his motorbike over a small wooden ramp set up over another man's chest, while Ringo dozes unamused next to her. Is this really what people like watching late at night on ABC?

One hour and twenty eight minutes.

Cath does feel rather guilty. Should she have gone along with Daphne after all? It's not like she gave her a choice, anyway. She can't help that she is fully aware that whatever made Will vanish could still be out there, and if it took him, who's to say it wouldn't want to take her too?

Stop it, she tells herself unconvincingly. You're making mountains out of molehills. He probably just got lost—

BANG BANG BANG!

The involuntary gasp that escapes Cath makes herself jump over how dramatic it was, but nothing about the motorbike stunt is as frightening as the stranger at the door. What is she supposed to do? Does she answer? They could be out to get her. Does she leave it? They could break down the door.

Don't be stupid, Cath. It can't be anyone harmful.

Creeping slowly out from the living room, Cath gulps at the huge silhouette looming in front of the door, and... is it her or has the hallway started turning? The floor seems to shift beneath her as she slowly approaches it, breath shaking as her trembling hand reaches for the ice-cold door knob—

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG!

This time she chokes on a scream, the increased urgency of the rapping striking fear into her. Cath doesn't waste a second — bolting to the kitchen, fight or flight, she grabs a chair and comes back to barricade the door with it. She's just attempting to tuck the back of the chair under the door knob when she hears a muffled, familiar voice from the other side:

"Forget it, she's not coming." he says, sounding exasperated.

She looks up and notices the shadow has split into three, like the cell division she remembers Mr. Clarke explaining in one Science lesson, all remarkably small-looking. And that voice did not sound scary in the slightest — in fact, she was sure she had heard it earlier today...

"C'mon, guys, let's go."

"Maybe she's sleeping?" Another voice chimes in, lisping slightly.

And another. "Sleeping? At 8pm? What is she, an infant?"

Removing the chair with her fear starting to diffuse, Cath opens the door — before her stand Lucas, Mike and Dustin, their coats drenched and hair soggy as they stand dripping wet. The moment she opens the door their faces take on a new lease of life, gazing hopefully at her. Her own stern expression does not mirror this.

"What are you doing here?" she asks incredulously.

"Looking for Will," says Dustin enthusiastically, a determined look in his eyes.

She nods slowly, looking at each of them. "So... you're doing exactly what the Chief told you not to do?"

"We can't help it!" Lucas throws his arms up in exasperation. "Will's our friend."

"And we can't let him down," adds Mike meaningfully. "Now, are you coming with us or not?"

Cath stares out at the rain, and then back at them, brows furrowed in protest. "Come with you? Out there?"

"We're asking 'cause you're the last person who saw him, remember?"

"Don't you wanna help?"

"Well, yeah, but—"

"Then come with us! Please..." Mike's voice trails off, suddenly catching on his last breath. The desperation is hard to miss, and she wants to help, she really wants to. But she just doesn't know how. What could she ever do to help them? To help Will? It would be best if she left it alone — surely she would just make things worse.

"I'm really sorry, but I can't," Cath apologises, feeling severely judged from their stares as she begins to close the door.

"If you change your mind, we'll be down there!" Dustin manages to get in.

She opens the door a crack again, sighing, before she closes it completely. Her head falls against the door as she closes her eyes, listening to their intangible murmurs, followed by squelching footsteps down the porch stairs. What are they doing? What are they seriously doing? Secondhand panic sparking inside her, Cath flings the door open again and jogs out onto the porch, careful not to slip over. The boys are walking over to the taped-off area, starting to wander into the uncharted territory past the trees that line the road. It suddenly occurs to her that they're wandering blindly into the same spot where Will went missing, with nothing to defend themselves — and she might never forgive herself if another bunch of kids go missing under her watch.

"WAIT!" Cath hollers as loud as she can, startling the three boys. They turn around in unison to look at her through the blades of rain falling, and she bounces on her heels erratically. "Just... just give me a second, okay?"

She runs back into the house, fumbling for her coat and her Wellington boots as she curses herself for what she's about do do. What the hell is she doing? The way she sees it, if these three boys are going to be idiots, then they are going to need a voice of reason to keep them from being too reckless. Maybe she can't stop them from running into chaos — but she can keep their antics on a leash.

And what's more, maybe Daphne is right in that she'll feel better about herself if she does her part.

Grabbing an umbrella and a flashlight on her way out, Cath locks the door behind her and runs out in the rain to meet them, trying not to slip on the near-flooded road. As she reaches them, she opens her umbrella and takes shelter under it, meeting their stares which all seem judging of her — particularly Mike's. She clenches her jaw and thrusts her hand bearing the flashlight up to the sky. "It's raining."

And so the search begins. She doesn't know how long has passed, but after a while of searching Cath feels exhausted. What feels like hours of yelling his name on a menacing loop — Will! Will! Will! — whilst staggering through heaps of damp leaves and ground turned to mud, only illuminated by her flashlight, drains her. And now her paranoia becomes heightened, everything around her seeming to have a life of its own; even the trees.

     She isn't the only one starting to lose confidence. Dustin steps a little closer to her, breath heavy as he asks, "Do you mind if I share?" with a hopeful glance up at her umbrella. Of course, she accepts, raising the umbrella a little higher so the boy can fit under with her. She can feel him trembling.

     "Will?" shouts Mike, advancing forward strongly. "WILL?"

     "BYERS?" yells Lucas.

     "Will, where are you?" Cath calls out timidly.

     "I've got your 'X-Men' one-thirty-four!"

     The only thing they hear is the rain being sieved through tree branches and leaves, dripping down and soaking them through. Cath shivered, and she was unsure whether it was from the cold or the uneasiness of having wandered who knows how far into the woods, with no clear way out. Thunder claps — she squeals, lurching closer to Dustin as he does to her.

     "Guys, I really think we should turn back!" Dustin's voice cracks, his eyes darting fearfully around the woods enveloped in darkness.

     "Seriously, Dustin," Lucas criticises, although even he sounds slightly apprehensive, "if you wanna be a baby, just go home already."

     "I'm just being realistic, Lucas—"

     "No, you're being a sissy—"

     "I don't know," Cath glances behind her at an owl perched in a tree, hooting as it shelters in a hole in the trunk. "Dustin has a point, maybe we should start heading back."

     "See?" Dustin gestures to her to prove his point. "You ever think Will went missing because, you know, he ran into someone bad? And now we're going to the place where he was last seen, and we don't have any weapons or anything—"

     "Dustin, shut up." Mike says suddenly. It's only then that Cath realises they have stopped walking.

     "I'm just saying, does that sound smart to you—?!"

     "Shut up!" This time Dustin obeys him, taken aback by his seriousness. Through his coat Mike outstretches a hand, as if to halt them all, as he slowly looks around him. "You guys hear that?" he asks.

     Cath's about to wonder what he is hearing, when she too hears it; rustling in the leaves. An animal, surely — maybe a rabbit, fox, or something of that kind. But something about it doesn't sound right... it sounds human. Dustin lets out a little gasp beside her and she lowers the umbrella slightly, as if it will act as their shield.

     The four kids stand scattered in a small cluster, all of them afraid to move or breathe. The rustling moves, Cath hears it, from her left to her right ear. She feels the rush of something running past, sweeping a small gust of air past them. Staggering backwards with a gasp, she bumps into Mike's back and jumps once more, her nerves shot even when she realises it's only him.

     Snap!

     A twig breaks behind them, and the group all spin around to focus their flashlights on the same figure — they stare long and hard at who, rather than what they have caught.

     Standing like a deer in headlights, squinting back at them through the rain and the joined rays from their trembling flashlights, is a kid, surely no older than they are. After a moment, Cath realises it's a girl — the child's head is completely shaven, nothing covering her head but a bristly shadow of hair that once was, and skinny shivering limbs hidden under an oversized shirt coming down to her knees. She looks down and notices the girl is barefoot, her toes blue and grimy with dirt.

     Whoever it is, it's not Will.

━━━━━━

A/N;

so... surprise, i'm alive?

let's just say i meant what i said when i warned you that college was going to keep me busy, because HOLY MOLY it has been a wild few weeks! but i'm settled in now, and therefore finding more time to write. hope this long chapter makes up for the time i disappeared off the face of the earth with this book 😂

hope you enjoyed this chapter, and please leave a comment if you did. authors really appreciate votes too, but comments are so valuable to us and the most important feedback we can receive! you have no idea how it makes my day to read and reply to comments, so don't be shy...

— Imogen

[ Published: October 23rd, 2020 ]