Chapter Text
With a sneeze and a shiver, Jane realised she’d overestimated the heat of an Indiana fall. She stood on the sideline of the Hawkins High running track, desperately attempting to untangle her pair of wired earphones. Her shorts provided little warmth against the heavy breeze and she’d foolishly forgotten to bring her jacket out with her. A good jog would get the blood flowing nicely, but she’d be damned before doing it without blaring music to cover up her heavy panting.
The track itself was deserted, not uncommon.
Despite all the fundraising the school seemed to have done in order to build it, the demand for the bloody thing must have died the minute it was actually completed. In the two weeks she had been here, Jane had only seen it being used for PE classes and football warmup.
Fine by her. She liked it like this. Nobody to drown out her exceptionally curated playlist with a conversation she was not invited to or to snidely correct her form.
No, she told herself, she liked it like this.
She’d never ran back in Lenora. In fact, she wasn’t even sure she liked it now, but it stopped Hopper asking questions. If he ever tried to dig deeper than she wanted and ask “You making any friends?” she could answer with “I’m going to the running track every lunch”. He didn’t need to know it was a ghost town.
In Jane’s mind, he didn’t need to know anything. He just had to not be a douche to her and she’d be content. And so far, he’d struggled at even that.
When you agree to take care of your niece for the first time since she was a baby, you really should do more than just nod at her like you recognise her from church and drive the four hour journey to your town in silence. At least Joyce was nice.
Joyce was, for all intents and purposes, her “new mom”. That hadn’t been part of the deal. Officially, all custody had been handed over from Jane’s mom to Hopper, her next of kin, but with her uncle being as parental as a tin can, his somehow girlfriend, Joyce Byers had stepped in.
It would’ve been easy to hate her. Nothing creates resentment like being torn away from someone and being offered a stranger as “replacement”. But Joyce really was a gem.
The moment Jane had arrived in this nowhere town she’d been smothered with every single hand-me-down from the 80s the Byers house offered, tied together with a promise from a watery voice that “everything would get better”. It was a shame then, that oddball Joyce Byers seemed to be the most inviting thing about Hawkins.
She’d tried to make friends, honestly. She promised herself when she got here, to treat it as a new chapter. California was miles away and the majority of the folk here rarely left town, much less out of state. There was no preconceived notion of her as a base, no inclination that they should hate her before they talked to her. But that hadn’t made it easier.
Adolescents weren't predictable. They didn’t automatically see you as interesting or as an opportunity just because you were new. Teens in this town had all gone to the same elementary, the same middle and now, the same high school. They had their groups figured out by now, didn’t need some unknown out-of-towner coming in and upending everything. Unpredictable variables to them were an unnecessary liability.
And Jane understood that. Respected that, even. She just wished that she didn’t have to feel guilty every time another fib came out of her mouth.
How heartbroken would Joyce be if she knew she was raising two loners now, instead of just Jonathan?
With a little help from the wind, her headphones finally detangled into one continuous white rope, and she could finally get onto her stretches. It was more of a test of if she could still do her front splits and side splits, or were her quads still flexible enough to touch the back of her head. Every now and then she’d try an aerial.
She never knew if she were running right, but at least those, she was familiar with.
As she eased herself down into a right split, she observed a flurry of shapes in the distance. Seniors, by the looks of it, all chattering away as they tread the grass in shortcut to the cafeteria. Like they’d done it their whole lives. Like everything came so easy.
From far away she could spot some familiar faces, characters she’d picked up from overhearing announcements and observing in the hallways. Nancy Wheeler, who everyone knew would be studying journalism at some historic college come next autumn, was by the front, all prim and poised.
At least she was making it out of here, Jane always thought. Breaking the conventions in a town like this was akin to radicalism in her eyes, and she meant that as a compliment.
By Nancy’s side walking with his hand on her waist was her matching golden boy Steve Harrington, all big hair and brown eyes and easygoing charm. Her fellow freshman girls were appropriately enamoured with him.
Love notes in lockers, hurried glances in hallways, circling him in school pictures like they were picking him out of a catalogue. And he reacted to it in the most socially tuned way imaginable, reading the letters thoroughly before tossing them, offering the chocolate boxes out to his class instead of throwing them out.
Ensuring the continued adoration from his admirers and simultaneously using their efforts to warm his classmates to his appeal. A truly effortless display of extroversion. Behind him strode another couple, a few shapeless groups and then…
Jonathan Byers and Chrissie Cunningham.
Call her presumptive, but Jane would’ve said she’d been here long enough to properly define Jonathan’s social standing. Takes a loser to know a loser after all. And somehow, he was an even bigger one than she was.
Sure, he could be annoying at times. His insistence in blaring music late at night in order to “help his focus” while studying had made her want to beat him to death with her pillow. But the graduating class of Hawkins High wasn’t living with him. They didn’t know about his pedantic need to correct someone after using Joy Division in place of New Order or vice versa.
They didn’t talk to him enough to know that. It seemed that, like her, he was another living example that the worst thing you could be in this small town was lonely.
So why was head cheerleader Chrissie Cunningham, all wide smiles and pep, yakking away to the most isolated guy in her year?
Sometimes popular girls, if they felt they’d gone too far in some ruthless pursuit and might actually look a little cruel, would try and win people back with some social charity. A day of gracing the most unfortunate classmate with your presence could win back a lot of support. Maybe it was that? Or maybe it was one of those sarcastic, inside-joke conversations of “We’re best friends aren’t we?”
That last thought made Jane shudder. She’d dealt with far too many of those in the past.
But still, Chrissie Cunningham didn’t come across the type. From what she’d heard, the head cheerleader was as passive as they came. Annoyingly, she appeared to be one of those girls that really was as sweet as she seemed. The sort that always had a pad in her bag or let you copy off her test, even if she had spent all night studying and you’d turned up without a pen.
It was exhausting just thinking about living like that. Maybe being a loner wasn’t so bad, comparatively.
As she switched to her left split, Jane’s vision circled further into the crowd. Her initial guess seemed to be correct, the two were having a proper conversation.
Jonathan looked animated, talking lively with his hands while Chrissie nodded along. That didn’t exactly narrow the topic down. The guy could get wrapped up into anything if you let him speak for long enough. Having someone's attention itself excited him, perhaps from lack of exposure, she thought cruelly.
Jane let her gaze fall down to focus on the pull in her thighs, only glancing back every now and then as the crowd crossed the patch of grass in front of her.
That was, until she noticed Jonathan straight up pointing at her.
There was no room for interpretation, he was gesturing unanbashedly to her as Chrissie gave her a stare that suggested a sizing up was for sure taking place.
What the fuck was going on?
What was Jonathan saying about her?
Why did they have to stop dead in their tracks to get a good look at the girl warming up in a split?
She decided that now was definitely the time to start running. Around the half mile track.
With a properly lousy kick-off, she bolted from the starting line, turning up the volume of her earphones to mask the burning of her cheeks. One lap and they’d all be gone, she thought. Only one lap and she wouldn’t have to deal with a finger in her face and a judging look. She’d be back on her own, in her peace, content to focus on the rhythm of her breathing and the slapping of her ponytail against her back. Yes, she liked being alo-
”Jane isn’t it?”
For fuck’s sake. Why in God’s name was Chrissie Cunningham jogging next to her on the track, that bubblegum smile still plastered to her face and her Hawkins High hoodie rustling in the wind. What had Jonathan unleashed upon her? Had it just been to get her off his back?
No, she thought. No way. Chrissie was kind. At the very least, she reserved her bullying for the people high enough on the ladder that they could fight back. Picking on Jonathan Byers was beneath her, his new, somewhat sister even more so. She’d better say something then.
"Yeah, Jane Hopper." “Hopper? Oh, so you’re the sheriff’s kid then?”
Was she trying to make small talk? It sure sounded like it. Did people usually try to talk if they ran with someone? She wouldn't know.
“Niece.” "Ohhhhh that makes more sense”. Chrissie turned to face her head-on as they continued round the bend. “You don’t really look like him too much…you know-” She drew a finger under her nose to mimic a moustache and arched her spine in imitation of a beer belly.
This was edging very quickly into what felt like a mercy conversation.
Was this how stuck Jonathan thought she was? Enlisting a senior to be her buddy?
“I get that a lot.” Jane slowed her running to a stop and as she did, so did Chrissie. Clearly still not getting the hint. God, were cheerleaders really as dumb as the stereotype?
“Look…” she began, taking out her earphones. “Whatever Jonathan said to you, he’s wrong, I’m fine on my own.” Chrissie blinked, clearly confused. Guess the cliches were right. “I get that he probably thinks he’s helping me, but I’m being honest when I say I prefer-” “Jonathan said you were flexible” Chrissie butted in. Jane’s brow furrowed. “Pardon?” “He said you were flexible. You know, good at gymnastics, must’ve taken lessons at some point”.
As a matter of fact she hadn’t. Not even a day thing at summer camp. But she’d been a kid stuck in her house with nothing to do and online handstand tutorials, so she could see where he was coming from.
“I guess…” Her guard was still up but a little lower now. At least she knew now that Jonathan hadn’t thrown her to the dogs just to get them off his back. “Well-” Chrissie stuffed her hands into her pockets as a particular icy gust hit the track. “I just wanted to see if you’d be interested in joining the cheerleading team”.
What. The. Fuck.
Oh they must have been screwed for applications this year. She actually had to stop a little laugh from coming out.
“I don’t think I’m the rallying type, unfortunately.” A sardonic little smirk, try as she might, appeared on the side of her mouth. She must’ve looked like such a pretentious bitch right now.
But seriously?
Chrissie Cunningham was standing next to her on the running track that nobody used in this damn school aside from her, asking the most unknown girl of freshman year to try out for a position that the majority of her peers would’ve dropped dead for.
Cheerleading in California was reserved for the girls in dance. Cheerleading in Hawkins was as synonymous with successful girlhood as getting a Barbie doll made in your likeness.
“That’s okay” Chrissie beamed at her, still not discouraged. “We’re not looking for perfection right away you know, just trying to find people with potential”.
Jane sighed, and allowed herself a proper good look at the girl in front of her. She was somehow in a skirt in this weather, and her entire outfit down to her white-with-green-stripe socks was coordinated to the Hawkins High colours. Were it not for her eyebrows, it would’ve been a fifty-fifty chance on whether she’d gone ginger as an act of commitment. Still, there didn’t seem a hint of mocking in her tone.
Better to humour her.
“So you think I have potential then?” Her tone came out surly. She’d meant it to be light. Teasing, even. No wonder everyone thought she was Hopper’s kid. “Judging from those splits, yeah”. At least Chrissie seemed unperturbed, it'd take a mallet to smash the simper off her face. “He said you could do an aerial too.” ”Jonathan?” ”Mhm!” She nodded enthusiastically.
She wasn’t going to leave until she got an answer, Jane could smell it. “Tryouts are in a few weeks but I wanted to get a bit of a head start-”she wiggled her eyebrows. “-scouting talent”.
Good Lord.
Jane thought about what she had on in the week. Nothing good came to mind. A project in history that she was meant to have a partner for. Unfortunately, it seemed the class was an odd number so chances were she’d have to do double the workload on her own.
As pitiable as it sounded, she preferred that over being sandwiched into some other duo, who’d probably grown up together and were so close they wiped each other’s asses. All the while she found it intrusive to ask people their names and could only stay quiet at their inside jokes. Still, the presentation wouldn’t take too long. Chances are, if she wanted to, she could slot in an hour for some sort of practice.
Was she actually considering this?
“You don’t have to decide right away”. Chrissie hugged her arms to her chest. “I just wanted to gauge your interest in it”. And with that, she strode away, her ponytail swinging side-to-side in the way Jane never could muster.
What was wrong with her, here she was complaining how no one was letting her in and there was Chrissie Peppy Cunningham leaving with a green and orange olive branch. If she was lonely after this, then it would be undeniably her own fault. The world had given her an option and she was squandering it.
She’d just have to grit her teeth and try.
“When would tryouts be on?” Jane called after her. She hoped she didn’t sound as desperate as she felt. Chrissie seemed not to notice, at least. She immediately turned on her heel and an eager grin spread on her face as she slinked back. Her prey had been caught.
“Well…actual auditions are the Wednesday after next but…” Her hands disappeared behind her back and she leaned in close. As if she knew Jane comfortably. Like they weren’t strangers.
“I could let you watch our practice tomorrow at six? We usually don’t let people outside the squad in but…” She reached into her hoodie pocket and dropped something into Jane’s hand. “It could show the other girls that you’re seriously considering this”. Jane had to smile.
If Chrissie wasn’t doing something in sales after school their guidance counsellor was a lost cause.
Once she departed with a chirpy “See you Hopper!” Jane looked down to inspect what had been put into her hand. It was soft and plush, almost teddy bear-like with a green and white check pattern. A fabric scrunchie. All Hawkins cheerleaders wore them, it was an unofficial part of the uniform. But theirs were a rich green velvet. Chrissie’s too.
She wasn’t on the squad yet.
But she could be.
Chrissie had deemed her worthy of notice. Worthy. Jane hung onto that word. Clung onto it. She stayed on the running track the rest of lunch. Ran a good few laps. This time though, her hair lashed at her shoulders with the check scrunchie tying it back.