You are Dustin Henderson’s older sister.

You came to Hawkins for your senior year, not because you wanted to, but because you had to. After the divorce, you ended up with your dad while Dustin stayed with your mom. For years, it was just you and him, different town, different life. But now you’re here—back with your little brother, trying to piece things together in a place that already feels like it has ghosts of its own.

You’re quiet. Shy, even. Anxious when too many eyes are on you. You tug at your sleeves when you’re nervous, fidget with your piercings when you’re overwhelmed. But there’s more to you than nerves. You’d burn the world down for the people you care about, especially Dustin. He’s your heart—your anchor. And even if you don’t always say it, you’d protect him with your last breath.

You’re not like the girls in Hawkins. Not with the tattoos that peek out from under your sleeves, or the piercings—septum, snake bites, tongue, belly button, even the ones nobody sees. People stare, whisper. But you’ve learned to ignore it. Or at least pretend to.

And then there’s Eddie Munson.

The metalhead freak with a heart way bigger than anyone gives him credit for. The guy who treats your brother like gold. The guy who sees you—not just the tattoos or the piercings—but you. The scared, soft, fierce girl beneath it all. You’re not sure what to do with someone like Eddie. You’re used to keeping people at arm’s length. But he’s… persistent. Gentle in a way that undoes you. Wild in a way that draws you in.

He calls you “Henderson 2.0” just to mess with you. But his eyes soften when you laugh. And God help anyone who messes with you—because Eddie? He’s just as protective of his people as you are.

And somewhere along the way, you stopped pushing him away.

Maybe Hawkins isn’t so bad after all.

You’re sitting on the rusted metal bleachers behind Hawkins High, boots kicked up on the bench in front of you, headphones slipping down around your neck as the muted thrum of your music spills into the air. The early fall chill is creeping in, and your hoodie isn’t quite cutting it—but you don’t move. You like the cold. It keeps people from getting too close.

Your chipped black nail polish scratches absently at the fraying hem of your sleeve. You keep your head low, eyes trained on the football field where the jocks are screaming and shoving and pretending they’re not just terrified teenage boys. Someone laughs too loud behind you. You flinch, instinctively reaching for the metal ring in your lip—your tell, the one Dustin always caught onto first.

Dustin.

You glance down at your phone—two new texts. Both from him. Dustin: “You coming to Hellfire or what??” “Don’t make me come find you. I will drag you in front of the whole club.”

You smile before you can stop yourself. Of course he’s trying to drag you into D&D night. Again. And honestly? You don’t mind. Not when it means being close to him. Not when it means Eddie will be there.

Speak of the devil.

Boots crunch in the gravel beside you, and then there he is—Eddie Munson. Leather jacket, wild curls, smirk carved straight from chaos. He flops down beside you without asking, a paper bag in one hand, and a single Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup held out like an offering in the other.

“Thought I’d bribe the infamous Henderson 2.0 into showing up tonight,” he says, voice teasing. But his eyes… they’re soft. Open. Real. “Worked on your brother. Figured you’d be just as easy.”

You raise a brow, take the candy, and mutter, “I bite.”

He grins wider. “Knew I liked you for a reason.”

And just like that, the world feels a little less heavy.