Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
———( November 3rd, 1983) ( BEFORE the vanishing of will byers )
──────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────────
"YOU TAKE THE GOOD, you take the bad, you take them both, and there you have the facts of life!"
The calming jingle of the sitcom blasts through the television set as it introduces their cast members. Callie flicks her wrist upwards, flinging the small rubber ball against the ceiling without a care for whether or not she hits the fan. The continuous thuds against the ceiling coupled with the theme song coming from the television made for an oddly comforting atmosphere.
"The facts of life!"
"Callie, stop playing with the ball, finish your work," Gloria says as she catches the rubber ball mid-air, "You know how your dad gets." Callie immediately frowns like a child. Nonetheless, she gets up from the couch and walks over to the tv.
"There's a time you gotta go and show you grow and now you know about the facts of life! The facts of life!"
As she lowered the volume, the satisfying beating of drums began which made Callie smile slightly. She walks over to the lights and turns them on as she searches for the algebra assignment her father had given her the day before. Yes, it was algebra—Callie's mortal enemy. The girl returns to the couch and begins digging through the cracks of the cushions. She barely feels the packet, among other things, when the doorbell rings.
Callie's ears perk up, she lifts her head and stares at the front door. Her eyes trail over to her mother who was also staring at the door. The two make eye contact and Gloria shakes her head. Callie looks back at their light oak wood door. The brunette girl stands up quickly, "Calliope, don't you da—." Callie was already at the door before her mother could finish her sentence. The girl impatiently twists the doorknob and opens the door purely in spite of her mother's direct order.
Callie furrows her brows at the boy at the door, almost as if she forgot there was a person waiting there. He was a pale boy with light brown hair and soft green eyes; he wore a nervous smile with his hands in his jean pockets. Callie raises her brows, "Hello?" She says, mirroring his nervous stature. The boy swallows dryly and looks behind him very quickly. When he looks back at Callie, he lifted his right hand towards her, "Hi, I'm uh . . ."
The door is opened wide by Gloria and Callie gets nudged to the side as her mother now took control of the situation. The boy suddenly becomes even more nervous at the intimidating sight of Callie's mother.
