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CARRIE FEARED FOR HER LIFE as Hopper sped maniacally towards the Byers' household. The party was in the back of his truck where the seats were pushed down. Every turn they took, they tumbled into one another and let out groans of pain.
There were numerous times that Carrie would have to push one of the boys off of her. She didn't understand how the man had a license. The vehicle soon came to a halt, and Hopper turned off the truck. The door to the Byers house opened as Hopper opened the back door to let the kids out.
Carrie saw Nancy run out of the house with a worried expression on her face before tightly hugging Mike. Tears brimmed in her eyes at the sight. An envious feeling rapidly spread like wildfire. She didn't even realize that she was glaring at the two with tears spilling down her cheeks until Eleven grabbed her hand.
Carrie shakily inhaled and let go of El's hand to wipe away her tears. There was a heavy and painful feeling in her chest as she looked back at the Wheeler siblings. An acidic taste grew in her mouth, and she kept swallowing and taking deep breaths to prevent herself from throwing up.
Nancy turned from Mike and felt her stomach churn at the sight of her best friend's younger sister. She wanted to burst into tears at that moment from the overwhelming amount of guilt she had. The Wheeler girl was never at a loss for words, but her mind drew a blank on what to say to Carrie.
What could she say? Sorry, I was having sex while your sister was stolen by a monster? Nancy internally scoffed as a tear slipped from her eye. She bit her lip and looked down. Carrie was going to hate her, and Nancy completely understood why. Nancy hated herself, too.
Nancy snapped out of her thoughts when she took notice of what the brunette next to Carrie was wearing.
"Is that my dress?"
✿.｡.:*:.｡.✿
AFTER HAVING QUICKLY DRAWN MR. Clarke's tightrope analogy on a piece of paper, Mike started explaining their hypothesis to the others. Nancy, Jonathan, and Mrs. Byers sat on the couch as the kids sat around the coffee table.
