Chapter Text
Jim Hopper stands in the hallway with a mug of coffee, staring at the door. Kim’s door. The paint is chipped near the handle. He lifts his fist, hesitating.
“Kim,” he calls, trying to keep his voice steady. “You’re gonna be late for school.”
Nothing. He draws in a breath and steps closer. Before he can knock, the door opens.
She steps out fully dressed, keys already in her hand. Black hair falls around her face, freshly dyed. Her blue eyes flick past him like he’s not even there.
“Hey,” Jim says, too hopeful. “I can dr-”
She walks past him. “I’ve got my Jeep,” she says over her shoulder, already heading for the door. Her voice is calm in the way that hurts worse than yelling.
He follows slowly. “It’s cold out. Do you have a jacket?”
The front door opens, and she doesn’t look back.
He stands alone in the hallway, coffee still in his hand, listening as the car pulls away.
Now he wants to try, and she has already given up.
-
The bell hasn’t rung yet, but the hallway already feels stuffy.
Kim stands at her locker, the metal cold against her knuckles as she twists the dial. She can feel the looks before she sees them.
Across the hallway, Steve Harrington leans against a locker with Tommy and Carol, pretending not to stare. His eyes examined her scuffed boots, her ripped jeans. Carol whispers something, and Tommy snorts.
And then there’s Nancy Wheeler.
Nancy isn’t laughing. She’s watching Kim with that same careful expression she’s had for years, concern and hope. Nancy always tried, but Kim never cared.
The locker pops open. She shoves a notebook inside and slams it shut, finally glancing up, just long enough to meet Nancy’s eyes. She gives a small, tentative wave, causing Kim to look away.
The bell rings.
Kim sees Jonathan Byers, her best friend, almost sprinting down the hall. Too fast for someone heading to class.
“Jonathan!” Kim calls. He doesn’t stop.
Her stomach drops. She bolts after him, boots pounding against the tile. She shoves through the front doors just as Jonathan rushes into the parking lot.
“Hey!” she says, breath sharp. “Where are you going? We’ve got—”
He turns, eyes red and frantic, like he hasn’t slept. “Will’s gone,” he says.
The words don't register in her head right away.
“Gone?” Kim chokes. “What do you mean, gone?”
“He didn’t come home last night,” Jonathan says, voice breaking despite his effort to keep it together. “Mom thought maybe… maybe he stayed at the Wheelers.” He shakes his head. “But he didn’t.”
“Okay,” Kim says, forcing the word out. “Okay. We’ll find him.” Jonathan looks at her then, like he needs the promise to be real. “Let’s meet up at your house in an hour, then we can go to look for him together?” She grabs his hand and gives it a firm, reassuring squeeze.
“Okay,” Jonathan takes a deep breath, his eyes now glossy with tears.
“I’ll go talk to the boys, maybe they know something.”
-
The middle school smells like floor cleaner. It was disgusting.
Kim barely stops at the front desk. The security guard looks up, recognition flickering across his face. “Morning, Hopper,” he says, already unhooking the rope. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” she says. “I just need a minute.” He nods and lets her through. Being the chief’s kid had a few perks.
She follows the sound of voices down the hall until she finds the science room. Kim knocks once, making Mr. Clarke turn from the chalkboard. “Yes?”
“Sorry to interrupt,” she says. “I need to talk to Dustin, Mike, and Lucas.”
Mr. Clarke studies her face, then nods. “All right, boys. Hallway.”
She closes the classroom door behind them and leans against the wall, forcing a smile she’s worn a thousand times.
“Kim?” Dustin smiles, rushing to hug her before the other two boys can. “What’s up?”
“Are we in trouble?” Mike asks.
Lucas tilts his head, squinting. “You okay?”
“Relax,” she says, softly fixing Dustin’s hair. “Nobody’s in trouble.”
They get closer anyway. She’s Kim. The babysitter who let them stay up late, who never told their parents when they swore, who made grilled cheese at midnight. The babysitter that always came back.
“Have you guys seen Will today?” She asks them.
“He’s not in class.” Dustin’s smile fades. “And his bike isn’t outside.”
“I thought he was just late,” Mike frowns.
Kim nods slowly, like this is exactly what she expected to hear. “Okay,” she says. “That’s all I needed.”
“Why?” Mike questions.
She reacts instantly. “Mrs. Byers just wanted to know if he made it to school,” she says lightly. “You know how moms get.” That’s the lie.
Dustin shrugs. “Yeah. My mom freaks out if I’m five minutes late.”
“Will’s probably fine,” Lucas nods.
Mike doesn’t look convinced, so Kim reaches out and squeezes his shoulder. “He’s okay,” she says softly. “I promise.”
The classroom door opens. “Gentlemen,” Mr. Clarke says kindly. “Back inside.”
“You’ll tell us if you hear from him?” Dustin asks.
“Of course,” Kim says. “I will.”
They head back into class, still glancing back at her until the door shuts.
Kim’s smile collapses. She presses her palm to her mouth to stop a sob, breath hitching as tears spill over. She turns toward the lockers, resting her forehead against the cool metal, shoulders shaking.
She didn’t tell them he was missing. She couldn’t do that to them.