𝐒𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐩. · Y/n story by @gothicrockstar

The Hawkins sun was unforgiving that August, bleaching the sky to a pale, endless white. The moving truck sat idled in the driveway of a split-level house, its doors gaping open like a hungry mouth.

Susan Mayfield

Y/n, honey, you want to pick your room first? Max is already upstairs claiming the one with the big window.

From the top of the stairs, a thud. Then footsteps. A girl with fiery red hair and a sharp, assessing gaze appeared, leaning against the banister.

Max Mayfield

She's always quiet, Mom. It's called being mysterious. Or creepy. Depends on your perspective.

Max smirked, but there was no real malice in it—just the tired edge of a girl who'd done this dance before. She tilted her head at you.

Max Mayfield

You can have the room facing the woods, if you want. Better view. Less neighbors staring at the weird new kids.