𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝟮. 𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙤 𝙏𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙤

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙤 𝙏𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙤

October 31st. Halloween.

The one day of the year when fear became fun, when monsters, ghosts, and the dead were celebrated in the open. At least, that was the idea.

These days, Halloween was less about horror and more about Hollywood: superheroes, space rangers, pop culture icons replacing vampires and ghouls.

James didn't mind the concept, he liked the way the town came alive at night, how the streets filled with laughter and color but he'd never cared much for dressing up or knocking on strangers' doors for candy. Costumes felt like masks, and masks made him uneasy.

Still, he liked the noise. The energy. The illusion that the world was lighter, just for a night.

That morning, Billy's Camaro pulled into the Hawkins High parking lot in its usual fashion, windows down, music blasting, the kind of entrance that turned heads for all the wrong reasons.

James sat in the passenger seat, trying not to draw attention, while Billy seemed to drink it in. Another day, another performance.

By the time the first bell rang, James had already slipped into his new routine: classes, notes, silence. The morning passed faster than he expected, each period blending into the next until the final bell before lunch finally rang.

He moved toward his locker automatically, slinging his bag over one shoulder. The hallway buzzed with chatter, laughter, and the faint rustle of costumes beneath half-open jackets.

He spun his combination lock and pulled the door open, sliding his history book inside.

That's when he heard her voice.

Max.

He turned slightly, his eyes finding her a few lockers down. She was standing with two boys : one curly-haired and grinning like he'd just invented fire, the other watching with an expression halfway between amusement and disbelief.

James recognized them. Dustin and Lucas. He'd seen them in class and hanging around the arcade.

The boys were decked out head-to-toe in Ghostbusters costumes, proton packs and all.

James frowned slightly. What did they want from her?

"I do have this handy little trap right here," Dustin was saying, fumbling with a small mechanical box wired to his belt. "And look—it even opens and closes. Look, look..."

He pressed a button. The box sprang open with a mechanical click.

"Voilà!" he declared proudly.

Max just stared at it, unimpressed.

"It's cool, right? No? Okay, but, uh..." He trailed off awkwardly, glancing at Lucas for backup.

Lucas sighed through his nose.

James shut his locker and walked toward them, the metal door clanging shut behind him. He came to stand just behind Max, hands casually in his pockets, eyes locked on the two boys.

"Hi," he said simply.

The word landed heavier than it should have.

Dustin blinked, startled. Lucas straightened.

"Uh—hi," Dustin stammered, his voice cracking slightly. "You're, uh, James, right? We were just... uh..."

"Yeah? What were you saying?" James asked, adjusting his bag over his shoulder. His tone wasn't harsh, just calm, steady enough to make Dustin fidget.

"Well," Dustin began, rushing his words, "we were talking last night, and since you guys are new here—and, you know, probably don't have any friends to go trick-or-treating with, and maybe you're scared of bullies (well, maybe not you), we thought it'd be okay if you came with us. Both of you. Of course."

Max raised an eyebrow, the corner of her mouth twitching.

"It'd be okay?" she repeated, deadpan.

"Yeah! Our party's a democracy," Dustin said quickly. "And the majority voted yes."

Max crossed her arms. "Didn't realize it was such an honor to go trick-or-treating with you."

James couldn't help himself.

"With the Ghostbusters?" he said, straight-faced. "It's more than an honor."

Dustin smiled brightly, missing the sarcasm completely. 

"We know where to get the full-sized candy bars. We figured you'd want in."

Max gave a short, incredulous laugh. 

"That's... presumptuous of you."

"Yeah, totally," Dustin said, fumbling again. "So, uh... you'll come?"

Lucas rolled his eyes, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "smooth, real smooth".

Max exhaled, shut her locker, and walked away without another word.

Dustin deflated slightly, shoulders slumping.

James smirked, shifting his weight. "We'll be there," he said, and turned to follow her.

Dustin's face lit up instantly. "Awesome! We're meeting at the Maple Street cul-de-sac at seven! Seven sharp!"

James raised a hand in acknowledgment, not looking back.

He caught up to Max halfway down the hall.

"You know," she said without looking at him, "I don't need a guard dog."

James shrugged. "Yeah, I know. I promise I don't bite."

That earned him the faintest smile, quick, reluctant, but real.

She reached the door first and pushed it open, holding it just long enough for him to follow.

Max hopped down the school steps, skateboard under her arm.

"Your brother's gonna freak. We're late."

James sighed, dragging his feet. 

"Yeah, I know..."

He could already hear Billy's voice in the distance, low and rumbling with impatience. They reached the parking lot and there he was, leaning against the Camaro, eyes sharp, cigarette forgotten between his fingers.

"You're late again," Billy barked.

"Yeah, I had to catch up on homework," Max replied smoothly.

"Jesus, I don't care! You're late again, and both of you are skating home. Do you hear me?"

James stifled a groan and swung the passenger seat forward to climb into the back.

"Chill out, Billy. Won't happen again," he said, voice calm. Truthfully, the idea of riding Max's skateboard home didn't appeal to him in the slightest.

Billy's glare could have burned steel. He finally climbed in, after Max, and fired up the engine. The stereo blared "Wango Tango" by Ted Nugent, rattling the car with reckless enthusiasm.

The Camaro tore down the streets. Billy ignored the speed limit entirely.

"God, this place is such a shithole," he muttered.

"It's not that bad," Max shot back.

James stared out the window at the unfamiliar landscape, California sunshine replaced by small-town streets, cracked pavement, and chain-link fences.

Billy scoffed. 

"No?" 

He pressed a button, and Max's window dropped. A rush of cold air tore through the car. Billy inhaled deeply.

"You smell that, Max? That's actually shit," he said, pinching his nose. "Cow shit."

Max frowned, rolling her window back up. "I don't see any cows."

"Because there are no cows here," James muttered.

Billy's grin twisted. "Clearly, you haven't met the high-school girls."

James rolled his eyes. "Very classy, Billy."

The older brother went quiet for a few seconds, glancing between the road and James's reflection in the mirror.

"So... you like it here now?"

"I didn't say that," James replied.

"Then why are you siding with her? Defending it?"

"I'm not defending it," Max interjected.

"Sure sounds like it," Billy countered.

"Drop it, Billy. Please," James said, voice low. 

He didn't want another argument today.

"It's just... we're stuck here, so—" Max began.

"You're right. We're stuck here," Billy snapped, spinning to glare at Max. "And whose fault is that?"

Max rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, "Yours."

Billy's head snapped around. 

"What did you say?"

"Nothing," Max said quickly.

Billy leaned forward. 

"You said it's my fault?"

"No," she replied.

James sat up straighter. 

"Guys... just drop it."

Billy ignored him. 

"We all know whose fault it is. Say it." He fixed his gaze on Max.

The car fell silent, tension thick enough to taste.

"Max..." Billy said, threatening.

James's hands clenched. "Billy. Stop it."

Billy's voice sharpened. "Say it."

Max stayed silent, eyes fixed on the road ahead.

Then Billy roared, leaning on the accelerator and then he shouted. "SAY IT!"

James reacted instantly, grabbing his brother's shoulder and pushing him back away from Max. "Leave her alone."

"Oh, so you're taking her side now?" Billy sneered.

Before James could answer, Billy slammed the Camaro into a higher gear. The car surged forward, throwing James back against the seat.

"Billy, slow down!" Max shouted, panic creeping into her voice. 

She squinted ahead and recognized three silhouettes, Dustin, Lucas and their friend on their bikes.

"Oh, those are your new friends?" Billy jeered.

"No! I don't know them!" Max yelled.

Billy laughed darkly. 

"Guess you won't care if I hit them then, huh?" He stomped on the gas again, aiming straight for them.

The boys on the bikes screamed and pedaled frantically.

"Bonus points! All in one go?" Billy shouted gleefully.

"Seriously, Billy! Stop!" James yelled.

"No, Billy, stop! It's not funny!" Max added, voice trembling.

The engine growled as Billy weaved recklessly. James twisted in his seat, straining against the belt.

"You're gonna kill them! Stop your stupid shit! Billy, stop!"

Max's hands tightened on the wheel, and just as the Camaro neared Dustin and Lucas, she jerked the wheel sharply. The car swerved, missing the boys by inches.

Billy threw his head back and laughed like a maniac. 

"Yeah! That was a close one, huh?"

Max glanced nervously in the rearview mirror at the shaken boys.

James exhaled, relief flooding through him. He ran a hand over his face, letting the tension leave his shoulders.

"You're a fucking maniac," he muttered under his breath.

Thank you so much for reading this far! 🎡

This Chapter's a bit short, but I hope you'll enjoy it anyway ! :)

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