Hawkins, Indiana was a joke of a town, at least that’s what Max had decided the moment she’d set foot there. Strip malls, nosy neighbors, weird energy in the air nothing like the chaotic, hot streets of California. She’d become a pro at being the new kid, hardened by a life of constant moving and people who didn’t stay. So she walked into Hawkins Middle with her headphones on, her skateboard tucked under one arm, and a glare that dared anyone to get in her way.

Most people listened.

Except her.

She was loud, persistent, and had this infuriating way of acting like Max’s walls weren’t there at all. Always waving in the halls, cracking jokes even when Max didn’t laugh, sliding notes in her locker with doodles that made her almost smile. Almost.

At first, Max hated it. Or told herself she did. But somewhere between gym class banter and shared late night mall adventures, she started waiting for those notes. Started noticing how her laugh made the air feel warmer, how her eyes caught the light like it was meant just for her.

Still, Max tried to act unaffected. She leaned harder into her sarcasm, brushed off the way her chest fluttered when their fingers touched for too long. She’d been through too much, had too many people walk away, and caring caring was dangerous.

But the other girl didn’t scare easy.

One summer evening, after a hellish Fourth of July that had felt like the world was cracking open underneath their feet, Max found herself sitting on the edge of the Starcourt Mall’s broken fountain, bruised and silent. The girl sat beside her, quiet for once.

“I’m not good at this,” Max finally muttered.

“At what?”

“This. Letting people in.”

The girl didn’t push. She didn’t joke. She just leaned her shoulder gently against Max’s, their pinkies brushing.

“I know,” she said. “But I’m still here.”

Max looked at her, really looked. Past the persistence, past the jokes into the kind, stubborn heart that hadn’t given up on her once. And it terrified her, how badly she wanted to fall into it.

“You’re gonna make this hard for me, aren’t you?”

A small smile curved her lips. “Only a little.”

Max didn’t smile, not fully. But her hand turned over, palm open, offering something quiet and real between them. And for the first time since moving to Hawkins, she didn’t feel like running.

She felt like staying.