Not Evelyn. ~ max x fem oc (wlw)

✩ 1 · Max ✩

Evelyn was an expert at fading into the background; her presence was quiet, observant, and deliberate, the kind of girl who always knew which corner of the room to occupy to stay out of trouble. 

She wasn't shy, nor was she resigned. She was simply careful. 

Careful about who she trusted, careful about what she said, and, more than anything, careful about where she looked. But even someone like Evelyn had her breaking points.

On October 30th of 1984, she walked through the school corridor until she reached her locker. Just a few spaces down, Will Byers stood at his, pulling out his books. As he did, a piece of paper slipped out and fell to the floor. He picked it up, unfolded it, and read it briefly, his eyes scanning the hallway as though searching for the person who had left it there. For a moment, his gaze met Evelyn's, his expression devoid of any emotion. Without a word, he crumpled the paper in his fist, grabbed the book he needed for class, and walked away.

Evelyn opened her own locker, half-expecting a similar note to fall out, but nothing did. It seemed like today was Will's turn.

Ever since the incident with Will, Evelyn had noticed the attention on her own situation had mercifully lessened. Her sexuality was no longer the hottest topic at school. Though she did feel a sympathy for Will, for she knew he'd been bullied before —by a few persistent jerks— but now, it seemed like everyone had something cruel to say about him. 

Something harsh and undeserved.

Her own bullying had started two years ago when her sexuality became public knowledge. Not by choice, though—she hadn't come out herself. A close friend had let it slip, and the news had spread like wildfire through the school. Those friends? They were no longer around. That hadn't been Evelyn's decision either; they had distanced themselves quickly, as if her presence alone was a threat.

The first month after the incident had been the hardest. People stared at her as though she were some sort of giant-spider. Eventually, the stares stopped, replaced by an unsettling indifference. They acted as though she didn't exist, which, in some ways, felt worse. Over time, Evelyn adapted. She even began to prefer the invisibility—it allowed her to find a small group of misfits who, for their own reasons, didn't fit neatly into Hawkins High's social hierarchy either. They never seemed to care about her who she liked or didn't like, likely because the four of them were boys. They didn't see her as a threat, unlike the other girls. After all, what was there to fear? She couldn't fall in love with them. Or maybe it was because they, too, carried invisible scars of their own. Either way, they had accepted her in a way no one else had.

Evelyn walked into her classroom, books in hand, and smiled politely at the teacher, who greeted her at the door. Inside, the other students were busy chatting among themselves, paying little attention to her arrival. She headed to her usual seat at the back of the room, the spot she favored because it was the least likely to draw anyone's attention.

Mr. Clarke clapped his hands to quiet the class. "Guys, please pay attention to me. The bell has already rung." Gradyally, the chatter quieted down, though a few whispers persisted. Unbothered, Mr. Clarke reached into his backpack and pulled out a large object, placing it on the table with a loud thud that silenced the remaining murmurs.

"Meet the human brain," he began, his voice taking on the familiar tone of enthusiasm that marked his lectures. "I know, I know—it doesn't look like much. A little gross, even, right? But consider this: there are a hundred billion cells inside this..."

As he spoke, Evelyn's attention drifted. His words became background noise as her gaze wandered to the window. Outside, she noticed a tall, curly-haired boy arguing with an older man, likely his father. She imagined the nature of their argument, though she knew her guesses were far from reality.