Chapter Text
There’s a new girl in town, and the students of Hawkins High have descended on the new trail like vultures on carrion. Waiting to feast on the entrails, fit her to their hierarchy like a tetris block.
Only the new girl was Shauna Shipman. If anything, it was her who would strike fear into their hearts. Rage simmering under her skin, guilt eating her from the inside out.
-
It was September 1985 and Shauna felt like she was too big for her body. Her family had moved to quiet little Hawkins for her to get better. Now here she was, eighteen going on nineteen years old and forced to take junior year at a new school.
Shauna had heard her parents whispering one evening, her mom saying Wiskayok held too many painful memories for their precious daughter. That the constant reminder of their team, of the people she’s lost, of Jackie, would not allow her to heal and move on. (Like Shauna wanted to move on)
It didn’t matter that Hawkins High didn’t have pictures of Jackie, of their team plastered all over its walls. Jackie didn’t let her go.
Shauna would wake in the morning, go to brush her teeth in front of the mirror and see Jackie sitting on the edge of the bathtub, kissing her teeth in disappointment. Hair curled up prettily, her lips a rosy red, pink pajama set Shauna always saw her in during sleepovers.
“Looking tired, Shipman. Did you dream of me?”, Jackie’s voice mean and spiteful.
Like her Jackie never was.
Because this Jackie haunted her as the mean, popular, pretty girl Shauna needed her to be. To justify the vitriol she felt, the jealousy of living in Jackie’s shadow. Giving her a reason to hate her, when in reality Jackie was always kind. Forthcoming, and undeserving of her cruel end.
Maybe Shauna needed to feel haunted by this version. Because if it were her Jackie, the guilt would grind her to bits.
Shauna would sit alone at the end of the bus on her way to school, listening to Joy Division and pretending to ignore Jackie sat right next to her.
“Oooh god your music taste hasn’t improved at all,” Jackie squeals, trying to rip away her earphones. “No wonder you’re so fucking depressed all the time. Listen to some Madonna or Abba.”
The song switches to Cold by The Cure, and Shauna nearly flings her cassette player to the ground.
Some heads turn around at her, all tired in the early morning. “Sorry,” Shauna mumbles and clenches her hand to a fist. Jackie laughs at her. Shauna just wishes she’d disappear (She doesn’t).
In the hallway before third period, when Jackie sifts through her locker, Jackie blows pink bubblegum while staring at her. The monotonous chewing and bubble popping background noise as Jackie searches in vain for her Spanish homework.
“Why even worry about school like a nerd ?”, Jackie asks in between.
Shauna sighs, “Not gotta worry about it when you’re dead.” Mumbled beneath her breath.
Jackie laughs at that, banging her head back against the locker. “Ouch, Shipman. And who’s fault is that?”
Mine.
Shauna grits her teeth and slams her locker shut. Spanish doesn’t fucking matter anyways. She stomps down to the girl’s bathroom to skip that dreadful period, maybe drown her sorrows in the dirty toilet water.
When Jackie stops in front of her, hair falling down her back in luscious curls, and a garishly pink sweater in Shauna’s field of vision.
She’s just in my head.
Shauna reminds herself, clutches her books tighter, and just continues walking.
And walks straight into something (someone). Shauna’s books (stupid Spanish that she didn’t even need) clatter to the floor loudly. She feels dizzy, flicking her gaze across the hallway to find Jackie nowhere.
“Ah, wha-?” the very much not Jackie-hallucination cried out, stumbling a few steps, and whirling around to face Shauna.
Shauna stares at her. Blonde hair dolled up like Jackie’s, brown eyes opened wide in shock, and a gold pendant necklace round her neck. Decidedly not Jackie.
“Everything alright?”, the girl asks, after what must have been minutes of Shauna staring at her.
Shauna knows she looks a bit crazed. Sleep hadn’t been easy these past few weeks. Well, months, years – really – but seeing Jackie everywhere and knowing she never made it out of that first winter made her lose it.
Perhaps it’s why she finds herself answering the girl. Not walking away like she usually would. Shauna has yet to speak more than fake pleasantries with a single Hawkins High student, and she liked her semester like that.
Well, and then this Jackie who wasn’t Jackie stood in her way.
“Sorry, you just remind me of someone,” Shauna mumbles, as if that answered any questions. She clears her throat. Bends down to pick up her stupid Spanish books.
The girl in front of her is giving her a gentle smile, cheeks rosy with blush.
“Oh,” she answers as if Shauna’s response was sensible, “I haven’t seen you around, are you new?”
Shauna nods. “Just moved here.”
“Well, welcome to Hawkins then,” the girl said. “I’m Chrissy.” Holding out her hand as the bell rang for third period. Shauna stared at it. Then up into Chrissy’s warm brown eyes. Blue eyeshadow on her lid.
She slotted her hand into Chrissy’s for a brief shake.
“’M Shauna.”
-
Shauna soon learned that Chrissy, fellow junior, was sort of like the Queen Bee of Hawkins. And that (“like me, Shipman” Jackie’s voice unhelpfully supplied) she was fiercely protective of her friends, which somehow included Shauna fucking Shipman now.
When Shauna woke up, brushed her teeth, took the bus and walked to school, Jackie would walk step by step besides her, throwing malicious comments her way, and clawing her nails under Shauna’s resolve.
As soon as Shauna entered the hallway of Hawkins High, Chrissy would walk up to her, a blinding smile on her face. And link their arms together.
“You’re replacing me with this dumb blonde?”, Jackie had sneered once, filing her nails to a sharper point while Chrissy had picked Shauna up from her locker. Shauna had chewed down hard enough on her lower lip to draw blood. And followed Chrissy until they’d parted for first period.
“I dig your flannel by the way,” Chrissy had divulged one day, after school. And Jackie, standing by the shade of the bleachers – clad in her Yellowjackets uniform and stretching, had rolled her eyes and yelled out – “Shipman! She’s lying through her teeth. That flannel is dead ugly!”
Shauna had forced out a raspy “Thanks.” And complimented Chrissy’s new shoes like following the manual of social interactions.
One night Shauna shook herself out of a nightmare of burning metal and cold, cold nights. Gasped and cried until her throat felt ragged, until the urge to vomit stopped. Her sight was still blurry, the warm night-light her only source of comfort in the dark.
She looked to the window, watching the white flakes descending.
“It was so cold out there,” says a voice next to Shauna. Not mean, not biting.
A bit like a frightened child.
Shauna doesn’t dare turn her head, just stares out at the falling snow.
“Why didn’t you get me?”, Jackie whispers, voice thin. The rustle of bedsheets besides Shauna, someone burying into the warm duvet. “Was it not enough to fuck my boyfriend?”
A hot tear rolls down Shauna’s cheek, down down until it dampens the fabric of her sleep shirt.
Shauna can’t fucking stand the cold.