"I vowed not to fight anymore if we survived the Great War."
Isadora Jones had always had mixed feelings about Billy Hargrove. Known for his charismatic yet brash demeanor, he attracted attention, but not all of it was positive. So, when they were...
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TW: MENTIONS OF UNDERAGE DRINKING
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{November 1982}
ISADORA JONES WAS FURIOUS.
To say she had been angry over the last few months would be an understatement, but this time, her fury was directed squarely at her mother, who had made the abrupt decision to uproot their lives and move to Hawkins, Indiana—the town where she had spent her own childhood. It felt like a cruel twist of fate to Isadora, who had spent years carving out a life for herself in Santa Monica, surrounded by sun, surf, and friends who truly understood her. As she hurled a stack of books into a nearby box, her childhood best friend, Daniel Miller, narrowly dodged the flying tomes, leaping back just in time to avoid a hit.
"Isadora, I get that you're upset, but could you please stop slamming things around?" Daniel pleaded, his voice strained as he tried to maintain his balance amidst the chaos.
"Why are you even here?" Isadora shot back, pausing her packing to glare at him. He folded his arms across his chest, cautiously observing her, unsure of how to approach the brewing storm.
"I came to help you pack, Dory," Daniel finally admitted, earning a scoff from Isadora as she stalked back to her bookshelf for more books. She felt a sense of resentment bubbling up inside her; it was as if Daniel were an unwelcome reminder of everything she was losing.
"Yeah, right. I'm sure that has nothing to do with my mom asking you to come check on me," Isadora retorted, her tone dripping with sarcasm. Daniel hesitated, wanting to tell her that everyone was concerned for her well-being, but he feared she would lash out if he said too much. Still, he knew she needed to hear the truth.
"Dory, I just want to make sure you're okay. I know you've been going through a lot, but you haven't been yourself lately. Honestly, you've been acting like a—well, kind of a bitch," Daniel said hesitantly, his voice barely above a whisper. Almost immediately, Isadora dropped the books she had been holding and spun to face him, her eyes blazing with anger.
