𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 - girl time

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 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 approached swiftly; the sun had risen with what seemed to be a very personal vendetta against Scarlet Hopper herself. It pierced through the tiny little circular window above her paint-smothered bed, practically clawing through the pane like a wild beast. The beam of sunlight glimmered through the window, dust flitted to and fro, swimming through the small rainbow that had erupted, and papers and pencils seemed to glow beneath the illumination.

 But the heat that radiated when Scarlet had turned to her side — accidentally planting her head directly within the glimmering, and searing hot, beam — and tucked a hand under her pillow just to feel the sweet relief of the cool cotton... she felt as though she'd been set on fire. To make matters even more unfortunate, Eleven had turned from her spot beside her sister, eyes still firmly sealed shut, while a hand slapped out... colliding with Scarlet's already burning cheek.

 The eldest of the two groaned, her attitude easily slipping into an utter huff as she shot upright, soothing her face with the back of her hand, "El!"

 Eleven's eyes fluttered open, fatigued oak-brown glittering with some form of mischief while a sheepish smile tugged at her lips, a yawn peeping through, "Sorry."

 "No, you're not."

 "No, I'm not." Eleven's words were followed with a bout of hearty giggles, especially when a couple of wriggling fingers dove into her waist, squirming like worms and tickling her skin.

 The heat shrouded them quickly, and Scarlet's fingers were swiftly pulled back, slumping to her side whilst a new and fresh sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead. Scarlet knew she could be dramatic, she knew she could... exaggerate things; but truly, the summer was going to end her.

 A hearty huff parted her lips, a line of moisture trapped above her top lip. Her shirt was shed, the back entirely wet and completely gross. It was tossed to the floor in a messy lump and Scarlet made way to tear through her collection of colourful clothes. A green tee was tossed aside after both Scarlet and Eleven had shaken their head. Then a pair of shorts joined. Then a bubblegum pink pair of dungarees were grappled — Robin had actually helped Scarlet dye them — along with a pale blue, cotton t-shirt.

 Eleven mess of frizzed-up curls that had positively exploded thanks to the humidity, bobbed in time with her impressed nod. Her little hands clapped together in delight; she was rather envious, really. She gazed at the vibrant mixture of colours that so loosely resembled a wad of bubblegum with nothing short of a sparkle in her eyes.

 Scarlet noticed immediately, "Hey, we'll get you some new clothes soon too, alright?"

 "Really?" Her hopefulness was enough to warm Scarlet's already scorching heart. Eleven wore the very things Scarlet had previously tossed aside; old button-ups, jeans that the other kids no longer wore and things Joyce or Nancy had happily dropped off.

 Scarlet nodded, wisps of curled hair bouncing as she did, "Now come on," Scarlet rose her voice, making absolutely certain that their father at the kitchen table — restraining himself from digging into his eggs, bacon and toast — could hear her perfectly, "Hop gets grouchy when we make him wait."

 Eleven smiled, her eyes creasing in joy; they did so love to poke and prod at their father until he lost that gruff facade and turned into nothing more than a fatigued father figure. El's stomach rumbled, loud and completely proud... it took less than a beat for Eleven to spring up and clamber towards the ladder, skipping steps as she went.

 Scarlet could only shake her head as she swiftly tugged her clothes on, leaving one of the dungaree straps undone, hanging limply by her side. She soon joined her family at the table, stomach practically leaping in joy at the sight of buttered toast and perfectly cooked scrambled eggs.

 The moment Eleven's plate was cleared, she had swiftly lurched from her chair and made for the telephone; traces of maple syrup still on her chin. Plates and glasses formerly filled with cool orange juice or coffee were cleaned by Hop and dried by Scarlet, each one back in its place... and by the time they'd finished their joined efforts, the telephone was slammed back onto the wall.

 Eleven's brows had cinched together, a divot appeared between them. Her lips were tugged towards the ground in the form of a robust frown... Scarlet glanced at the clock, the hands ticking by ever so slowly... Mike was late — but Mike had never been late, actually, much to Hopper's chagrin, he was usually early and impatiently tapping his foot on the porch while his bike toppled into a bush.

 Scarlet leaned back, her hip colliding with the kitchen counter. Ever so slowly, her arms came to her chest, folding over the little pocket of her dungarees. Her eyes narrowed to accusatory slits as they landed upon Hopper. He'd been the last person with Mike, and he'd arrived home from dropping the kid off last night with nothing short of a relieved smile. A smug one.

 "What did you do?" Her voice lowered, the sugary sweet lilt entirely gone, fizzling away like burnt caramel in a pan. The sound of a slamming door made the pair jump in time, and as their heads swivelled, they could see Eleven's door shut tight, Eleven tucked away inside in what Scarlet knew would be a very confused and hurt huff. She snapped back to Hopper, "Hop?"

 Hopper's shit-eating grin died out, a hopeless spark struggling to stay alight under that glare he was receiving from his eldest. He didn't know how she did it. From round cheeks, wide eyes that glistened like sunlight flittering through a glacier, to the dimples that seemed to perpetually tear at her face... now she looked... well, she was still Scarlet. Only, she looked up with a tilted head, eyes peering through her brows while being narrowed like a python. Her lips had thinned into a straight line, as though she was hiding a serpent's tongue behind them.

 Hopper could do little more than clear his throat and hastily scoop up his Sherrif's hat, "I've uh —" he paused, watching the way her arms unfolded, palms coming to rest on her waist like a scolding parent, "I've gotta see Joyce. Keep out of trouble."

 He scurried away, surely kicking up a cloud of dust in his haste.

 "You keep out of trouble!" Scarlet called after him, her voice barely squeezing through the crack in the front door as it teetered shut behind him. She blinked, shaking her head as though she was the father watching her child run away to avoid a scolding.

 She knew that Hop had to have said something. Nothing on planet earth could have kept Mike Wheeler — the stubborn little brat that he is — from perusing through Hawkins just to catch a glimpse of Eleven. Hell, Mike had abandoned his closest friends on multiple occasions to do that very thing...

 Scarlet sighed, her body deflating like a sad little balloon as she made her way to Eleven's bedroom. Her knuckles wrapped on the door, "El? Can I come in?"

 There was no response at all, just the slow creak as the door opened, unable to retort against Eleven's abilities. Scarlet hopped beside her sister, legs tucked beneath her as she pulled Eleven closer, smoothing out a stray curl, "What's up, buttercup?"

 Eleven almost smiled at that; the very phrase that she'd heard all those months ago when Scarlet had come running after her, unable to let her leave alone. But then Mike took over her mind, and her lips gave up their attempts at curling higher, "Mike. He's not coming. He said Nanna is sick... But Hop said she was not..." Eleven pulled back, "Does he lie?"

 Scarlet didn't quite know what to say to that; the likelihood of Eleven being completely correct was... well, high. But this wasn't something she should be meddling with — unlike Hopper. She stooped her gaze to the ground, landing upon one of the comic books that Eleven had clearly pinched from the loft.

 "You know what?" Scarlet muttered, her eyes brightening as she scooped the comic from the ground, flicking through to find depictions of the Scarlet Witch; it was quite heartwarming to see Eleven just as interested in the superhero her sister had such a close resemblance to as the other kids.

 The comic in her hands was one of the very first that Max had insisted she read... Max and Eleven still hadn't quite gotten to know one another; Eleven was still hanging onto the childish memory she'd seen the day Max and Mike had been alone, smiling together in the school's gym; as for Max, she wasn't going to reach out again, not after her hand had been ignored and brushed aside.

 The two of them would have made great friends; Max was free, and she didn't coop herself up with Lucas — whether they were together or broken up for the millionth time. She would be a good influence on Eleven; Scarlet could only do so much, say so much without intruding on her sister's childhood that she had missed out on for so long.

 It was time for Eleven to get her girl talk from somebody closer to her age.

 "We're going to see Max," Scarlet said, flipping the comic shut one more as she tossed it atop the cluttered drawer opposite Eleven's unkempt bed.

 Eleven recoiled just slightly, brows pinching together; she hadn't seen Maxine in quite some time. Perhaps in passing when Lucas, Dustin and Will would check in, say their hello's and be off once more... But that niggling feeling of... Jealousy — Scarlet had named the sensation for her — popped up once again like a monster clinging to her back, "Max?"

 "Yep. You've never given her a chance, have you?" Scarlet rose a brow at her sister, watching as a cluster of pink bloomed on her cheeks, "Exactly. Look, you know I adore the boys, but you need a girl friend, Ellie. I'm not... I'm not your age, I can't give you the answers that you're looking for, but Max might be able to." Scarlet grinned, "And let's not forget how often Max and Lucas break up, she's got to have some sagely knowledge for you."

 Eleven considered this; Lucas was always moaning and groaning about how he'd said or done the wrong thing... leading Max to dump him again; from pointing out fresh pimples, to the hair on her legs... Eleven had heard it all. Maybe she did need someone her age, someone who knew exactly what she was going through. Somebody else who had dealt with dumb boys.

 "Okay." Eleven concluded, jumping from the bed as she tugged her sister along, "Let's see Max."

 To say that Max had been confused to see Scarlet and her little sister — who had barely made an ounce of eye contact with her since they'd met — show up right where she was practising her kickflips... was an understatement. Her face had scrunched together like an abandoned paper ball when she'd popped up from the ground after a failed attempt at her skateboard trick, only to find her board clasped within Eleven's hands, Scarlet hovering behind her with a smile.

 But it had barely taken a word for Maxine to lead the super-powered sisters inside, trailing to her cluttered bedroom filled with comics, clothes and a very wide assortment of tapes for her old walkman.

 Scarlet had tossed herself atop Max's bed, head landing perfectly upon the plush pillow whilst her shoe-free feet landed within Eleven's lap. Her eyes had fluttered shut — the heat always did make her impossibly tired — whilst she listened to Eleven's ranting and raving about Mike, all while Max paced the length of her bedroom, her nails getting assaulted between her lips.

 "And then he said he — he missed me..." Eleven spoke, "And then he just... hung up."

 Max's response came in an instant, "He's a piece of shit."

 A snort slipped from Scarlet's nose, her entire chest stuttering as she cracked open an eye. Max's twinkling ocean-blue eyes stared down at her, a wide grin paired alongside them.

 Eleven, however, didn't quite know the side to Mike that Scarlet and Max did. She didn't really understand how often he left his friends in the dust, how often he — and the others — ignored Will's desperate attempt at stealing back even an ounce of his childhood. She just saw a perfect boy, and the perfect boyfriend.

 Scarlet could spy Eleven's eyes blow as wide as dinner plates, the slight scrunch to the tip of her adorable button nose; she truly wished that they didn't have to shatter the picture-perfect image Eleven had... but it wasn't good to dwell on things that weren't really there. She deserved the truth, after all.

 "Mike doesn't have jack shit to do today," Max rushed out, her thumb back between her lips as her feet resumed their pacing, "And his Nanna obviously isn't sick." Her hand sliced through the air, completely dismissing the thought at all. She paused, standing directly in front of Eleven with cheeks flushed enough to compare with her fiery hair, "I guarantee you, he and Lucas are playing Atari, right now."

 "But... friends don't lie."

 Scarlet couldn't help but feel sorry for her when those words were spoken. She'd heard them time and time again, and Eleven had believed in those words with every ounce of her being. She trusted those boys, especially Mike, so much that the mere thought of one of them so much as telling her even the lightest of fibs was preposterous.

 Despite everything she had been through; the Lab, the lives she had taken to defend and protect herself and her friends... Eleven was still just a child, and she still had those childish whims and ideals. It wasn't a bad thing, of course it wasn't, but Scarlet knew that with every lie or broken promise, Eleven would only be crushed deeper and deeper.

 Max scoffed and her eyes rolled skywards, not at Eleven, but at the very thought of the lies that Mike and Lucas would spew, "Yeah, well, boyfriends lie. All. The Time."

 Max hopped onto the bed, smooshing herself between Eleven and Scarlet who had to scurry and tuck her legs beneath her, propping up on her elbows as Max threw a grin her way. The red-head soon turned back to Eleven, "You're going to stop calling him. You're going to ignore his calls. As far as you're concerned, he doesn't exist."

 Eleven leaned closer, a whisper on her tongue as though Max's words were a secret that had mortified her completely, "Doesn't exist?"

 It was cute to watch, really. For while Eleven had both Scarlet and Joyce as some very prevalent female figures in her life... they just weren't the same as Max. Scarlet had done everything she could to do what was best for her little sister, to give her back her childhood; but Scarlet wasn't her age, she wasn't a child and she didn't act like one; they couldn't ever truly be upon the same wavelength.

 Max still had so much vibrancy even despite suffering through Billy's remarks and harsh grips; she was somebody who had flourished, even after maltreatment. But she didn't devote herself to anybody, Max Mayfield was her own person entirely. That was what Eleven needed most; she needed to find herself. 

 So even if the prospect of ignoring a call rather than talking things out sounded silly to Scarlet... it was what teenagers did. Eleven would never really win back the childhood that had been stolen from her, but she could make up for it... even through doing dumb teenage shit.

 Thus, Scarlet didn't utter a single peep as she twisted a lock of Max's hair between her fingers, tying off a tiny little braid with a clear plastic hairband she'd found on the side table.

 Scarlet hadn't paid much attention to the rest of their petite conversation, the back and forth of dissing Mike Wheeler as though he was nothing more than dirt on the soles of their shoes.

 "— Dump his ass." Max finalised.

 That was enough for Scarlet to snap back to reality. Still, she didn't try to talk the duo out of things, she didn't intrude and tell them to act more mature; they deserved to be dumb, lovesick teenagers who had, quite frankly, had enough of their silly boyfriends.

 So Scarlet unfurled her legs, grimacing at the stickiness behind her knees and hopped off the bed. Her hands darted out, yellow painted fingers curling around both Max and Eleven's wrists, "Enough boy talk, it's girl time."

 Eleven's head slipped to the side, a bundle of brunette obscuring her cute little eyes, "Girl... time?"

 Scarlet knew it probably wasn't the best idea to go against the rules they'd made, but it was just for one day, just for a couple of hours where a bunch of teenagers would hide the girls like a couple of needles in a haystack. It hadn't quite been a year yet, but it wasn't all too far off... so if the Snowball had been fine, then why not just one teeny little day out?

 Scarlet tugged them along, only pausing to grab her shoes and fasten her laces, "We're going to the mall."

 Once the car had rumbled to a stop, and Scarlet had finally managed to tear her eyes away from the two girls in the back seat giggling away, they all headed towards Starcourt as the beaming sun glared down at them, heating their skin as though they were crackling meat above an open fire. It was treacherous. 

 Max revelled in it, her arms spread wide as the sun acted as her spotlight, illuminating her colourful shirt and vibrant locks of hair. Scarlet wanted to hop into a freezing cold lake, her dark hair bundled atop her head felt as though it was cooking her skull like a sizzling egg... but at least a light breeze drifted by her bare arms and legs.

 Eleven, however, was swamped in her long jeans and oversized button-up shirt — positively boiling.

 Scarlet fiddled with her sister's sleeves, twisting the cuffs until they had been rolled as high as she could get them. Eleven studied her, "Too many people?"

 Scarlet smiled as reassuringly as she could; Eleven had finally come to understand why such rules had been put in place, and she really did respect them. Hopper had grown more lenient with every passing day, and Eleven had been able to sit upon the porch whilst Scarlet read a book to her, she'd been able to trail through the woodlands, hands grappling at a tree, hurrying after Steve who had already managed to perch himself on a high branch like an oversized bird.

 But this was something more; a place absolutely cluttered with kids, teens and rushing adults.

 "It'll be alright," Scarlet muttered, fingers trailing through her dear little sister's hair to tie up the top half with an old scrunchie that had been lingering above the blue band coiled around her wrist, "It's just one day, you'll be with Max, and you'll know exactly where to find me if you need to. Just... try not to draw too much attention, yeah?" She stepped back, watching with delight as Max pushed her arm through Eleven's linking them as though they were two little girls in kindergarten, declaring one another best friends for all eternity mere seconds after meeting for the first time, "For today, just have fun."

 Eleven's eyes twinkled like the stars that would glitter within the night sky; suddenly it seemed as though every ounce of horror within her life had faded away... like a happy kid was finally in front of Scarlet without a shred of worry.

 That was enough to dwindle away any doubt that Scarlet might have had. Her hand dug into the little pocket on the front of her vibrant bubblegum-pink dungarees and she pulled out a folded wad of cash. She'd saved every dollar bill Hopper had given her, every single payment for her work at the station, every sneaky note that Florence would pass to her all while muttering 'don't tell Hop...' under her breath.

 It would go to her college fund, even if Hopper had been adamant in paying for it himself... but she could spare some for her sister, she always would. Her finger flicked through the notes and tucked away the rest. She split the thinned pile and held her hands out to both of the girls.

 "Go on," she urged, her hands pushing further until Max gratefully pinched the notes between her pale fingers, "I want you to have fun, no boys, no rules, nothing but fun. You both deserve it."

 They stared at her as though she truly was a superhero who had stepped right out of a comic book. As though a great cloak flitted behind her, as though a golden halo was atop her head.

 Max's wide grin was almost blinding, far brighter than the scorching sun, "You're the best."

 "The best." Eleven nodded firmly, her own smile mirroring Max's to a T.

 "Anything for my girls, huh?" Scarlet sang, her arms flung wide, waiting for the girls to bundle close to her, even if the heat would make it impossible to part.

 They caught on just as quickly as ever and launched themselves at Scarlet, arms tightening and smiles widening ever more.

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18-01-2020

edited version: 01-08-2022

:･ﾟ★ naur i love them, your honour. Scarlet x Max x Eleven is so special to me, imma cry real quick.

don't forget to let me know what you think; and remember that i now require a particular number of comments and feedback before i consider releasing the next part (this is just to ensure people remain engaged and supportive, as well as to allow me to see what you all enjoyed most!), and please do NOT leave comments telling me to update; they'll be ignored and you'll be muted, much love <3