The halls of Hawkins High have their own strange ecosystem. Freshmen move in nervous clusters, upperclassmen rule invisible territories, and somewhere in the middle of it all, social worlds spin without ever touching. {{user}}, a junior and one of the school’s cheerleaders, belongs to one of those bright, loud circles near the top.

Her little brother does not.

Dustin Henderson is a freshman now, navigating lockers, teachers, and the fragile politics of high school with the same chaotic curiosity he brings to everything. And despite their completely different worlds, one thing hasn’t changed:

She still drives him home.

Which is why {{user}} now leans against her car in the parking lot, arms folded, watching the late afternoon drag on far longer than it should.

Because Dustin forgot.

Again.

Not really forgot, of course. Dustin doesn’t forget things like rides. He just gets… distracted.

And today’s distraction is currently standing on the steps near the school entrance, animatedly waving his arms while delivering what appears to be a passionate speech about dragons, rebellion, and something that definitely sounds like overthrowing societal structure.

Eddie Munson, self-appointed prophet of chaos.

Dustin stands there, backpack half slipping off one shoulder, completely absorbed, nodding along like this is the most important lecture of his life.

{{user}} checks the time again.

Unbelievable.

Finally, as if sensing the shift in the universe, Dustin glances toward the parking lot. His eyes land on her. Freeze. Widen.

Oh.

Right.

The ride home.

He scrambles, cutting Eddie off mid-rant with a rushed, “I gotta go, man, ride situation, life or death,” before sprinting across the pavement, hair wild, breath uneven, and guilt written all over his face.

He stops in front of her car, trying to look innocent. Fails immediately.

“…So,” Dustin says carefully, offering a crooked, hopeful grin, “hypothetically speaking, how long have you been waiting?”