History Must Repeat Itself

Act 1 - Chapter 1

September 1984

         My head leaned back against the wall, absently staring at the stucco ceiling. I've attended eight schools in my life. Every school in America had the same ceiling, I swear. I considered the mass production of stucco when I heard my name. Standing up, a man wearing a cheap suit stood in front of me. He gave me a judgemental look over, taping papers against his hand. Matched with my Chucks, oversized jeans and long-sleeved striped shirt was my outfit straight from my time in Seattle. From what I'd noticed in my week here, it wasn't a normal look in Hawkins.

I held back the sigh on my lips, and grabbed my backpack off the floor.

"William Hargrove?"

"It's Billy," the other student in the office stood, his own bag slung over his shoulder, politely smiling at the principal. My eyes ran over the tall teenager's figure. His dirty blonde hair was curled in a way that made me wonder how natural it was and how much product was in it. His jeans were fairly new and I could tell if the sun directly hit against his white shirt, it'd become translucent. Another look I hadn't seen in Hawkins.

"Alright then, Billy. Here's your new schedule, your locker assignment, and combination," the principal, whose name I genuinely couldn't remember, said, "feel free to come by any time and ask questions. I noticed you're a basketball player. Good man. We'll be excited to see you on the court."

Billy smiled, nodding, "yes, sir. Thank you."

Billy Hargrove glanced down at me, his smile changing to a seductive smirk as he exited the office. I kept my expression neutral, though I wanted to roll my eyes at him. Great. I was starting a new school with a golden child.

"And here are yours, Miss. Connors. Have a good first day. Hopefully, it's your last," the principal handed me my own little package. I raised my eyebrows in appreciation before the man walked away. Glad to see how the hierarchy works in this school.

I walked out of the stuffy office, scanning the papers in my hands. I've found as I've gotten older, the school administration assumed the changing of schools had to do with me as a student and person. My mother's continuous discovery of a "great new job" wasn't on their radars.

I agreed with the principal though. I hoped this was my last move like my mother had promised. I only had two years of school left. The hallways had few people lingering in them, late for their first period classes. All eyes rested on me, and the whispers began. Great. That never got fun.

"I've never been the new kid before," a gruff voice came from over my shoulder. My spine jumped at the unexpected voice. The tanned teenage boy walked behind me, but close to my shoulder. I could smell the hair spray, but my question still hung about the natural curl. His blue eyes shone, giving me a charming smile.

"It's not that exciting," I muttered, "staring, whispers, rumours, friends that stick around for a day, and people wanting in your pants. It goes away after a month when the shine dulls."

"I don't know, that all sounds very exciting," Billy said, "though I may take my time getting through all the pants around here. It's a long school year."

I snorted, looking back at him. I didn't believe him at first, but Billy's eyes roamed over a few girls in the hallway. I rolled my eyes, shouldering my way past people. Great. I'd caught the attention of a floozy within minutes of being at Hawkins High. I stopped at my assigned locker, silently entering the combination.

"I think we should stick together," Billy said confidently, but I recognized the look on his face.

"Jess?" I said, finishing his sentence. I opened the locker door, obscuring his smug face. Billy didn't take my hint, casually wrapping his arm over the door. The amused smirk was still on his face.