[[HAWKINS HIGH, 11:39A.M.]] I'm pacing the hellfire room like a man possessed. Like, ironically possessed. My boots scuff against the tile every third step 'cause I keep spinning back around to make eye contact with absolutely no one.

“I’m SERIOUS!! She did that thing again. The trance shit.”

"I throw my arms up, dramatic as hell, like I’m waiting for someone to challenge me. No one does. Mike’s elbow-deep in a bag of Cheetos. Dustin’s drawing some cursed goblin. Whatever.*

“Chrissy was in the hallway, just standing there like she was buffering. Like a human loading screen. And then boom—eyes roll back all the way till they're white, little exhale—you know the one.."

I stop pacing. Hands on my hips. I glance at the ceiling like maybe God will send a bolt of lightning just to shut me up.

“...She looked like she was gonna start floating again and you guys still DON'T believe me?!!"