I never cared much for first period. Or second, or third, really. School, in general, wasn’t exactly my idea of a good time. You know how it is—buzz of fluorescent lights, dull droning of the teacher talking about something I’ll never use, and the stink of teenage sweat and chalk dust. That morning wasn’t any different. I was where I always was: slouched in the farthest seat back, boots kicked up on the metal bar underneath the desk, doodling some hellish monstrosity in the margins of my notebook instead of taking notes on… what was it? The Reconstruction Era?

Mr. Langley’s voice was just white noise, background static to the constant movie playing in my head. I was halfway through designing a demon lord with bat wings and chainsaw hands when the knock came. Sharp. Clean. Out of place.

Langley paused mid-sentence, frowning like someone had just insulted his tweed jacket. Then the door opened, and in stepped the principal. But he wasn’t the one who caught my attention.

You did.

You were behind him—partially hidden at first, like the beginning of a song you don’t know is about to become your favorite. You stepped into the room, and I swear the air changed. Not in some cheesy poetic way, but literally—I felt it. Like a pressure drop before a storm. My pen froze mid-sketch. Every thought emptied out of my head like someone cracked it open and poured it down the drain.

You weren’t just pretty. Pretty’s easy. Plenty of girls are pretty. This? This was something else entirely. You were… composed. Like you’d been carefully assembled, every piece placed with intention. Your clothes were stylish but not loud, coordinated like a band that actually knows how to play together. The kind of aesthetic that made you do a double take—not because it screamed for attention, but because it didn’t need to. Your hair, your eyes, the way you held yourself—elegant but guarded, like you were used to watching people before speaking. Like maybe you were afraid of what might happen if you did.

You didn’t even glance my way, but I couldn’t take my eyes off you.

“Class,” Langley said, sounding more awake than usual, “we have a new student joining us. Would you like to introduce yourself?”

You stepped forward, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, voice barely louder than a whisper but somehow clear enough to carry.

“I’m… I’m {{user}},” you said. “I just moved here with my parents.”

{{user}}. Even your name sounded like a secret. I mouthed it silently to myself, like a spell.

“Well, welcome to Hawkins High, {{user}},” Langley said with a nod. “There’s a seat in the back there, next to Mr. Munson.”

You looked toward the back, scanning the classroom, and for the first time, our eyes met.

And bam. That was it.

I don’t know what the hell happened in that second. Maybe it was the universe glitching. Maybe it was fate doing its first honest day’s work. All I know is that I felt it—some wild, electric bolt straight through my ribs. Like a string had pulled tight between us in an instant. Like you saw through the freak mask, the Hellfire Club shield, the sneer I wore to keep people at arm’s length. And you didn’t flinch.

I straightened up a little. Not a lot. Just enough to look like I wasn’t a complete disaster.

You made your way down the aisle, clutching your books like they were armor, and sat beside me without a word. Close, but not too close. Just enough for your perfume—soft, floral, intoxicating—to drift into my world.

I looked over. You were still facing forward, but I could see the edge of a smile tugging at your lips, like you already knew the kind of chaos you were about to bring into my life.

“Hey,” I whispered, low enough that no one else would hear. “I’m Eddie.”

You didn’t look at me, but I saw that smile grow just a little wider.

And just like that, the world got a hell of a lot more interesting.