Chapter 3: First Day of School
POV: Adam
Two weeks have passed since St. Mary's, and November's chill bites deeper as Adam walks toward Hawkins Middle School, his backpack feeling like armor against the weight of borrowed identity.
The documents Sister Catherine filed were flawless—his adult mind had crafted them with the precision of someone who understood bureaucracy's blind spots. Andrew Mills from Michigan, transferred due to family circumstances, psychological evaluation pending. The perfect storm of paperwork that made administrators nod sympathetically and ask no hard questions.
Through the bond, Scout's presence whispers from the woods beyond the school grounds. The creature has grown in these weeks—stronger, more intelligent, his loyalty climbing as Adam fed him scraps smuggled from the orphanage kitchen and spent midnight hours in the forest, teaching him commands that went far beyond simple obedience.
[SCOUT STATUS: LEVEL 3]
[LOYALTY: 65%]
[NEW ABILITIES: ENHANCED STEALTH, PACK COORDINATION]
[CURRENT LOCATION: PERIMETER PATROL]
Stay hidden, Adam sends through their link as he approaches the school's entrance. Watch for threats. Protect but don't reveal.
The answering pulse of understanding warms his chest. Scout has learned to be invisible when it matters, a shadow that exists only when Adam needs him to.
The hallways of Hawkins Middle School smell like industrial disinfectant and adolescent anxiety. Adam keeps his head down, shoulders hunched in the universal posture of the traumatized new kid. It's not entirely an act—this body carries its own memories of institutional cruelty, of being just another number in a system that doesn't care.
His first period is science with Mr. Clarke, and Adam settles into a back-row desk just as the bell rings. Around him, twelve-year-olds chatter about weekend plans and homework complaints, their voices bright with the kind of innocence that makes his chest tight.
I was never that young, he thinks, watching their faces. Even before Michael Thompson died, even before Subject 017's memories—I was never that free.
Mr. Clarke enters with the enthusiasm of a man who genuinely loves his subject, arms full of demonstration materials and a smile that reaches his eyes. "Good morning, class! Before we dive into electromagnetic radiation, I'd like you all to meet our new student."
Here we go.
"This is Adam Mills," Mr. Clarke says, his tone gentle in the way adults use when they know a child has been through something terrible. "He's joining us from Michigan. Adam, would you like to tell us a little about yourself?"
Adam stands slowly, letting his hands shake just enough to be visible. "I'm... I'm Adam. I like science. And reading. I'm staying at St. Mary's for now."
The calculated hesitation works perfectly. Several students shift uncomfortably, recognizing the code—orphan, trauma, be nice. Mr. Clarke nods encouragingly.
"Wonderful! Science is a great passion to have. We're just starting our unit on electromagnetic radiation—the entire spectrum of energy that surrounds us every day."
As Mr. Clarke begins drawing wave diagrams on the board, Adam feels his adult mind engaging despite himself. The equations are familiar, concepts he'd used in his previous life when calculating actuarial tables required understanding statistical wavelengths and probability distributions.
"Now, who can tell me what happens when electromagnetic radiation encounters matter?" Mr. Clarke asks.
Hands shoot up around the room, but Adam's mouth moves before his brain can stop it.
"It depends on the frequency and the material's atomic structure. Radio waves pass through most matter because their wavelength is too long to interact with molecular bonds, but gamma rays can ionize atoms directly because their photon energy exceeds electron binding energy."
The classroom goes silent. Mr. Clarke's eyebrows climb toward his hairline, and Adam realizes every student is staring at him with expressions ranging from confusion to awe.
Shit. Too much. Way too much.
Heat floods his cheeks as he hunches back into his seat. "I mean... I read a lot. Sorry. I didn't mean to show off."
The embarrassment isn't entirely fake—he genuinely miscalculated, let his adult knowledge bleed through the careful mask of traumatized innocence. But Mr. Clarke's face brightens with the joy of finding a kindred spirit.
"No need to apologize! That's an excellent understanding of quantum mechanics for someone your age. Where did you encounter that level of detail?"
"Books," Adam mumbles, staring at his desk. "I read a lot when... when things got bad. Libraries were safe places."
It's a perfect recovery—explains the advanced knowledge while reinforcing his tragic backstory. But he catches one student watching him with sharp interest, curly hair barely contained and eyes bright with curiosity.
Dustin Henderson.
The kid who loves science almost as much as he loves his friends, who builds radios and quotes movies and has a loyalty that runs deeper than most adults manage. In Adam's previous world, Dustin was fictional. Here, he's twelve years old and already sussing out that the new kid doesn't quite add up.
Their eyes meet for a moment, and Adam sees recognition flicker there—not of his true nature, but of something interesting. Something worth investigating.
The rest of the morning passes in careful mediocrity. Adam answers questions correctly but not brilliantly, participates just enough to seem engaged but not so much as to draw more attention. By lunch, he's settled into the rhythm of being Adam Mills: smart but damaged, helpful but wary, the kind of kid teachers want to protect and students aren't sure how to approach.
The cafeteria is a social minefield that hasn't changed since Adam's own school days thirty years ago. The popular kids claim the center tables like tiny dictators, while the outcasts and misfits gather around the edges. Adam gets his tray—mystery meat and overcooked vegetables—and scans for a strategic position.
That's when he spots them.
Mike Wheeler sits with his back to the wall, dark hair falling into eyes that dart constantly toward the entrance. Lucas Sinclair guards the table's flank, posture tense as a soldier's. And Dustin Henderson bounces in his seat, talking rapidly about something that requires elaborate hand gestures.
The Party. Minus Will.
Even from across the room, Adam can feel their grief like a physical presence. They've set up a barrier of empty chairs around their table, unconsciously protecting the space where their fourth member should be sitting. Mike pushes food around his plate without eating, while Lucas maintains vigilant watch for threats that exist only in his mind.
They're drowning in guilt and helplessness, and they don't even know their friend is alive.
Before Adam can second-guess himself, Dustin spots him hovering with his tray and waves him over.
"Hey! Science guy! You can sit with us if you want."
Mike's head snaps up, annoyance flashing across his features. "Dustin, we don't—"
"Come on," Dustin interrupts, shooting Mike a look. "The kid's new. Where else is he gonna sit?"
Adam approaches carefully, reading the group dynamics with adult eyes. Mike is the unofficial leader, but he's too wrapped up in his own pain to function properly. Lucas plays lieutenant, suspicious of outsiders but willing to defer to group consensus. And Dustin is the heart, the one who still believes in welcoming strangers even when his world is falling apart.
"Thanks," Adam says quietly, sliding into the chair across from Dustin. "I'm Adam."
"Dustin. This is Mike and Lucas. We're..." Dustin's voice falters for a moment. "We usually have four people, but our friend Will is... he's missing."
The careful way he says it breaks Adam's heart. He's not missing. He's trapped in a nightmare dimension, slowly dying while a monster hunts him through a decayed version of our world.
"I'm sorry," Adam says instead, and means it. "That must be really scary."
Mike's laugh is bitter beyond his years. "The police think he's dead. They stopped looking after the first week."
"But you don't think so," Adam observes, reading the stubborn set of Mike's jaw.
"Will's tough," Lucas says firmly. "Tougher than people think. If anyone could survive being lost in the woods, it's him."
If only it were that simple.
Dustin leans forward, curious. "You said you like reading. What kind of books?"
This is safer ground. "Everything, really. Fantasy, science fiction, mystery. I got through most of the library where I was before."
"Fantasy? Like Lord of the Rings?" Mike asks, showing the first genuine interest he's displayed.
"Sure. Tolkien, Brooks, Howard. I also play D&D when I can find a group."
The effect is immediate. All three boys straighten, and suddenly Adam has their complete attention.
"You play D&D?" Dustin asks, voice rising with excitement. "What edition? What class do you usually play?"
"First edition, mostly. I like rangers—tracking, survival skills, that kind of thing."
It's not a lie. In his previous life, Michael Thompson had played in a weekly group with colleagues from the insurance firm. They'd called it stress relief, but really it was permission to be someone else for a few hours. Someone brave and strong and capable of saving people.
"That's perfect!" Dustin bounces in his seat. "We need a ranger! Mike's our DM, Lucas plays a ranger too but he could multiclass, and I'm a bard. Will usually plays a cleric, but..."
The energy dies out of his voice as they remember why they're recruiting. Mike's face closes off again, and Lucas looks away.
That's when Troy Walsh decides to make his presence known.
"Well, well. The freaks found a new freak."
The voice comes from behind Adam, dripping with the kind of casual cruelty that twelve-year-old bullies perfect through practice. He turns to see a stocky boy with mean eyes flanked by a taller, thinner kid who laughs at everything his leader says.
Troy and James. The stereotypical bullies every school seems to breed.
"Come on, guys," Adam says quietly, reading the sudden tension in his tablemates. "Just ignore them."
But Troy's already committed to his performance. "What's wrong, new kid? Cat got your tongue? Oh wait, I bet you don't talk much where you come from. Heard you're staying with the charity cases at the church."
Adam feels his jaw clench but forces his expression to remain neutral. "I'm just trying to eat lunch."
"With the losers? You know your friend Mike here wet his pants in third grade, right? And Lucas still sucks his thumb. And don dustin—"
"Hey," Dustin interrupts, standing up. "Back off, Troy."
Troy grins like a shark who's smelled blood. "Ooh, the toothless wonder's gonna defend his new boyfriend? That's cute."
The words hit Dustin like a physical blow. Adam sees him flinch, one hand moving unconsciously to cover his mouth where his baby teeth left gaps. It's a cruel shot, aimed at the kind of insecurity that cuts deepest at twelve.
But before Adam can intervene, Dustin recovers with the resilience that makes him special.
"Yeah, well, at least I don't need daddy to buy my way onto the basketball team," he shoots back with a grin that shows every gap. "Must be embarrassing when your trust fund can't buy you talent."
Troy's face flushes red, and for a moment Adam thinks he might actually swing. But then a teacher appears at the edge of their vision, and the moment passes.
"This isn't over, freaks," Troy mutters, but he's already backing away.
As the bullies retreat, Adam finds himself reassessing Dustin Henderson. The kid has steel underneath all that enthusiasm, a core of loyalty and courage that doesn't break under pressure.
"That was awesome," Mike says, genuine admiration in his voice.
"Yeah," Lucas agrees. "Did you see his face when you mentioned his dad?"
Dustin shrugs, but he's still grinning. "Bullies are just scared people trying to make everyone else scared too. Can't let them win."
Adam stares at this twelve-year-old who just demonstrated more emotional intelligence than most adults manage. No wonder Will loved these guys. No wonder they'd do anything to save him.
After lunch, they walk together toward their next classes, and Adam finds himself genuinely enjoying their company. Dustin explains the campaign they've been running—a quest to find a lost artifact in an underground maze—while Mike and Lucas debate strategy with the seriousness of actual military tacticians.
"You should come over sometime," Dustin says as they reach the intersection where their paths split. "We usually play Friday nights in Mike's basement. I mean, we haven't been playing since Will..." He trails off, then forces brightness back into his voice. "But we will again. When he comes home."
When, not if. These kids refuse to give up hope.
"I'd like that," Adam says, and means it. "If your parents are okay with it."
"My mom loves feeding extra kids," Mike offers, showing the first genuine smile Adam's seen from him. "She always makes too much food anyway."
As they part ways, Adam feels something shift in his chest. For two weeks, he's been playing a role, maintaining a cover identity while preparing for the challenges ahead. But these boys—their loyalty, their refusal to abandon hope—they're making it real.
I'm not just protecting them anymore. I actually like them.
The realization is dangerous. Attachment makes you vulnerable, gives you weaknesses that enemies can exploit. But as Adam watches Dustin disappear into the crowd, curly hair bouncing with each step, he finds he doesn't care.
[SOCIAL QUEST COMPLETED: MAKE FIRST ALLY]
[REWARD: +300 XP]
[DUSTIN HENDERSON RELATIONSHIP: FRIENDLY ACQUAINTANCE (25%)]
[NEW ABILITY UNLOCKED: PARTY COORDINATION]
[SCOUT STATUS UPDATE: LEVEL 3 → LEVEL 4]
The system notifications scroll past as Adam heads to his final class, but his attention is elsewhere. Through the bond, he senses Scout patrolling the school's perimeter, alert for threats that go beyond teenage bullies.
And in his mind, he begins to plan. Three days until Will Byers is found. Three days to position himself where he can help without revealing too much. Three days to earn enough trust that when the impossible happens, these boys might actually listen to him.
As the final bell rings and students flood toward the exits, Adam's walkie-talkie crackles in his backpack—a secondhand radio Dustin had given him during lunch, already programmed to their frequency.
"Hey, Adam. You there? Over."
Dustin's voice, bright with the kind of friendship that develops fast between outcasts who recognize kindred spirits.
Adam pulls out the radio, key-sing the mic. "I'm here. What's up? Over."
"Lucas had an idea about places to search for Will. Want to help us look? We could use a ranger's tracking skills. Over."
Through his bond with Scout, Adam already knows exactly where Will Byers is. But looking at his new friends' faces—Mike's desperate hope, Lucas's determination, Dustin's unshakeable optimism—he makes a choice.
"Copy that. Where do you want to meet? Over."
Because sometimes the best way to save someone is to let their friends be heroes too.
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