𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥 | stranger things

three

"I know what you did to my sister."

Steve Harrington closed his locker, his brows furrowing as he stared down at Wren. "Come again?"

Wren's eyes narrowed at him. "I saw the hickey on her neck. You pressured her into having adult relations with you. She wasn't ready, and you knew that. I just hope for your sake you used a condom, because my mom is gonna kill you if she finds out."

"Listen here, little girl," Steve said, crossing his arms. He leaned over just a bit so that he was closer to her height. Wren took a step back, uncomfortable by the closeness. "You're poking your nose into things that don't concern you. So why don't you go home, put on your wittle footie pajamas, have Mommy get you some ice cream, and turn on . . . you're eleven? So, how about The Muppet Show? That sound about right?"

"Stay away from Nancy," Wren threatened, her jaw clenching.

"Mind your own business," Steve countered. "For someone so smart, you should understand when your presence isn't wanted." He made a shooing motion with his hands. "Scram."

Wren sent him a glare before walking away. She spotted Nancy, who looked uncomfortable as she made her way through the overcrowded hallway. She wanted to say something to her, but then she'd be breaking the unspoken rule to never try and speak to her at school. The only thing she could do would be to leave a note in her locker and hope she doesn't get all defensive, which Wren decided against as she sat down in her 1st period class.

The first half of the day went by unusually quick, and soon enough, Wren was sitting in Mr. Hauser's class with her lunch – a cheese sandwich, fresh strawberries, blueberries, and two fun sized 3 Musketeers for dessert; the last of her Halloween candy.

"Are you going to eat lunch in here every day?" Mr. Hauser asked as he erased the chalkboard from the previous class's lesson.

"Better here than the cafeteria," Wren replied monotony. "Besides, you never seem to complain, and I always pick up my trash." She unwrapped her sandwich and took a bite. She stared out the window over at the middle school, her brows pulling together when she noticed some jerk shove her brother on the playground.

The classroom door opened, and Robin came in. She grinned when she saw Wren, who frowned a little. No one was ever happy to see her.

"I was hoping you'd be here," Robin said as she sat down in the empty desk next to the gifted kid. "I need to talk to you about something."

"Me?" Wren's frown deepened. "You need to talk to me? Why? I don't see why you'd even want to be my friend in the first place."

"This school is full of dinguses, but you seem cool . . . even if you are half my height and freakishly smart for an eleven year old," Robin said. She placed her forearms on her knees and leaned closer, lowering her voice so that they wouldn't be overheard. "Now, allow me to fill you in on a little thing called Operation Croissant."

Robin then went on to tell Wren about her plans to flee to Europe for the summer to experience real life. She plans on eating a croissant every morning for breakfast, hence the name Operation Croissant, and won't go anywhere where she can't order breakfast in their language. She didn't want to be like other American tourists desperately looking for someone that speaks English.

"So, are you in?" Robin asked. "I really don't want to go alone, and none of my friends are good candidates. I'm assuming you don't speak French, so I'm gonna have to teach you at least the basics so you're not completely lost when we get there."

"Je parle français," Wren said. "J'avais besoin de quelque chose pour empêcher mon cerveau de se transformer en crottes de chien. There's nothing else to do in this town, anyway."