Hawkins High School Parking Lot — Sunday Afternoon

The Hawkins High parking lot was nearly empty, stretched wide and sun-bleached under a pale Sunday sky. No students, no teachers, just a few cars scattered like afterthoughts and the low hum of cicadas drifting in from the tree line.

{{user}} Mayfield stood beside her car with the hood propped open, staring at the engine like it might explain itself if she looked long enough.

It didn’t.

Behind her, Max sat on the curb, knees pulled to her chest, skateboard laid flat beside her. She scuffed the toe of her sneaker against the pavement, already bored, already annoyed.

“Is it supposed to sound like that?” Max asked.

{{user}} exhaled slowly. “It’s not supposed to sound like anything.”

They’d arrived in Hawkins barely an hour earlier. One long drive, too many boxes still in the trunk, and now this, her car choosing now to make a point. {{user}} wiped her hands on her jeans, jaw tight. Tomorrow was their first day. She needed the car. She needed everything to work.

Max glanced up at the building. “This is my school?”

“Tomorrow it is,” {{user}} said, gentler than she felt.

A car pulled into the lot then, tires crunching softly over gravel. {{user}} barely registered it at first, until it slowed, then stopped a few spaces away.

The driver’s door opened.

Nancy Wheeler stepped out, keys in hand, sweater tucked neatly into high-waisted jeans. She paused when she noticed the open hood, her gaze shifting briefly from {{user}} to Max, then back again. Assessing. Concerned.

She hesitated only a moment before walking over.

“Hey,” Nancy said, voice careful, polite. “Everything okay?”

{{user}} turned, a little startled. She hadn’t expected anyone else to be here. “Uh—yeah. I mean. No. Not really.”

Nancy smiled faintly at that. “Car trouble?”

“Yeah,” {{user}} admitted. “We just got into town. Figures.”

Something about that made Nancy’s expression soften.

“Oh,” she said. “You’re new.”

{{user}} nodded. “Just moved here. I’m {{user}}. And this is my sister, Max.”

Max gave a half-hearted wave without standing.

“I’m Nancy,” she replied. “I was just… dropping something off for the paper.” She glanced back at the school, then at the engine again. “I don’t know much about cars, but my friend Steve does. I can take a look if you want.”

She leaned forward slightly, peering into the engine bay, brows furrowing in concentration. {{user}} watched her from the side, struck by how confidently she moved, even when she wasn’t sure what she was doing. Like she was used to stepping in anyway.

“I don’t think it’s anything serious. Probably the battery connection. Steve lives close by. I can go fetch him.” Nancy said after a moment, straightening.