Clean cut American kid ~ Stranger things

CHAPTER THREE

Author's note: so it somehow slipped my mind to inform that this story starts during the start of season two of stranger things. Sherry is unaware of what happened in season one which is the year she was gone.

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I kept the night free from bloodshed which instead made for heavy thoughts and a lot of restless rolling around before I finally woke up by the alarm. I anxiously pad over to my closet and hold my breath while swinging the doors open. There is a high risk that my mother threw away my clothes while I was gone and replaced them with something she would find more appropriate. I sigh out loudly in relief when I find my usual worn t-shirts and jeans instead of prints and ruffles. I pull out an old pair of jeans I haven't realised how much I've missed. They are light blue but the knees are shredded so only the white threads are left. I slip on a black henley shirt and my steel toed boots. I feel at home in my old clothes. I got to wear my own clothes in rehab but not as frequently, and I only had my backpack of clothes with me to choose from. Not that I have that much to choose from anyway, it just feels good to be home I guess.

Steve drives us to school in his car. He drops me off and goes to meet up with his girlfriend. I gag at him but thank him for the ride. I walk through the doors and meet the old smell of teenagers and dust. God, I even missed high school. I notice how everybody stares at me as I march through the hallways, my boots clomps against the tiled floor. I roll my eyes to whatever rumours have been made about me. I know how the teens in this school work. Some probably hit the head on the nail but there's probably some shit about me killing someone and being to prison. I know they like to tease that idea. I see Tina and Carol standing against their lockers and when they see me they gape like fish. I send a wink as I pass them before I turn a corner.

The principal's quarter is small. There's just enough room for an assistant with a desk outside of the principal's actual office.

"Is Debbie in?" I ask the woman sitting by the desk.

"Mrs Sawyer is busy," she corrects me annoyed, "can I set you up for a meeting?"

I sigh at the inconvenience and then force a smile at the woman. I look over her desk. Aside from a bunch of office supplies and paper files she's only got an apple and a cup of coffee. I reach over and grab the cup, only to throw it on the floor. The cup shatters and coffee splatters in a big mess. The woman rises from her desk horrified and looks between me and at the mess on the floor.

"I'm sorry about that, does she have time now?"

The woman glares at me with fire behind her painted eyes. She sighs loudly and points me to the principal, mrs Sawyer's office. I give her an innocent smile and a thank you before I enter the small room.

"'Ello old Debbie, remember me?" I ask and sink myself down in the chair in front of her desk. Principal Deborah Sawyer looks up from her paper work and looks surprised.

"Ms Harrington," she greets me politely with a smile, "how nice to see you."

"Yeah yeah you know how it is. Been out and about, but now I'm back and kicking, ready for my senior year." I charm the woman who's surprisingly defended my capabilities in front of my parents.

"Have you been keeping up with school work?" She asks me and I proudly dig up my grades for the classes I've completed during my year away. She briefly skims through the pages, reading glasses hung at the very edge of her nose, before she lifts her gaze back at me.

"I will have to go through this more thoroughly later, but until then I see nothing keeping you from jumping in with the other seniors right now."

I smile gratefully.

"If you don't mind me asking, how much time did you spend studying?" She pulls her glasses off and starts to mindlessly fiddle with the frames in her hands.

I look around at the ceiling while thinking about the answer. "I don't know, like a couple of hours a week."

"I hope you understand your possibilities ms Harrington. You can become whatever you want."

"Thank you mrs Sawyer, I'll make sure to think about it." I say as I start to become slightly uncomfortable with the conversation. I'm not prepared for serious shit, I just want to get a green light to jump back in with the others and leave.

"I'm so curious to pick in that brain of yours, I wish you were more open," mrs Sawyer says and leans her chin against the back of her hands.

"Well, I'm not." I excuse and stand up. "This was a nice little chat but I'm gonna get to class." I turn and walk through the door.

"Please don't throw away your opportunities to rebel against your parents. There are students here who would kill to be as smart as you." The principal says as I open the door. I just look at her briefly before stepping out.

The assistant outside of the office is sitting behind her desk again. The coffee and the shattered cup is cleaned off the floor. I send the angry woman a wink before I walk away.

It's not the first time mrs Sawyer has talked to me about my future. She's tried to dig inside of my head before and she's shown me different colleges and universities. I honestly don't know what I think about it all. But I know that if I ended up not going to college it's not because I want to rebel against my parents. It would be because I had found something else to do. Whatever that would be. On the contrary though, college would be a nice ticket out of here. I could move to another state and wouldn't have to see my family any other times than the holidays or something. I would miss my brother though. I know that Steve is scratching at the surface to finishing high school with decent grades. And even if he would get into college he wouldn't move far away from Hawkins.

I push the thoughts away and walk outside of school, deciding to skip first period. I need fresh air and a little peace and quiet. I sit down at a bench and light a cigarette. I know someone who always arrives an hour late because he just can't seem to get up in the morning. I hope he still goes here, not having moved away or died on me while I was gone.

I'm two cigarettes through when I hear a familiar engine roar and loud music come closer from a distance before coming to an abrupt halt at the parking lot. I watch with a smile on my face as a pair of boots step out of the car. They belong to a person with his signature studded leather jacket and spiked hair. He starts to walk towards the bench I'm sitting, lighting a cigarette as he goes. Getting eager I stand up on the bench and scream at the top of my lungs with my best deep and dominant dad voice.

"RICHARD!"

He stops dead in his tracks when he hears his name being shouted and looks up to search for the source. He locates me and his face twists into a shit eating grin. He gets over and wraps his arms around me, picking me up and twirling me around in the air. He smells like blood, sweat and cigarettes.

"If it isn't sweet little cherry pie." He laughs and puts me down on the ground. He looks me up and down, poking my nose and pinching my cheeks as if to test if I'm real.

"I'm back from the dead to haunt ya," I smile at him and slap his dirty hands away from me.

"I would hope so. Are you here to stay?" He asks seriously. I give him a nod.

"Well halle-fucking-lujah!" He drapes a leather clad arm over my shoulders and pulls us both down to sit on the bench. Or rather fall into a mess. I laugh loudly. I'm so glad to be reunited with my best friend.