³𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 ✔

005-spotted russians

CARLA'S SHIFT FELT LIKE A DRAG.

Usually, she was content with going to the library for the entirety of her day, spending her hours helping and sending smiles to people, and just getting to be in a quiet spot.  In simple words, she generally liked working at the library, but today, she just couldn't.

All her smiles were rather forced, and she felt herself slacking off.  She was sure it was because of the nightmare she'd had, still lingering in the back of her mind, waiting to haunt when it got the chance, or just based off the fact that she would rather be literally anywhere else than in the shelf-filled room.  Because of this mood, her shift felt as if it couldn't go by any faster.   Like her break was hours away rather than thirty minutes.

For the first four hours she'd been there, Carla had been forcing herself to do things, whether it be re-stacking books, cleaning shelves or just sending smiles towards busy students and adults, faces in books—she also felt bad about abruptly leaving her shift the day prior, and decided to make it up by working extra around the place.

But now, with her break so close, Carla couldn't force herself to do shit anymore—if there was even anything more to do.   Whether or not she still felt bad for leaving her manager, she just couldn't.  So, here she was, fingers tapping upon the counter as she counted down the minutes until her break started.

Thirty minutes.

Twenty-nine minutes.

Twenty-eight minutes.

Twenty-seven minutes.

Carla knew exactly what she would spend her break doing.  She'd quickly rush out and take the bus ride to Starcourt Mall and spend the half and hour she had hanging out with Steve, or she supposes now, figuring out this Russian message was supposed to mean.   It was obviously a code, but what the code meant was up for debate, and it would be up to Steve, Robin, Dustin and herself to figure it out.

Now, sure, Carla believed that there was some weird shit going down in Hawkins—when wasn't there?—and she wouldn't be totally fazed if it had to do with Russians.....but this was not how the Wheeler wanted to spend her summer.   She didn't want to spend her breaks and nights locked in Scoops Ahoy trying to figure out some code when she, instead, could be spending quality time with her boyfriend and friends somewhere else.

Everything had been perfect, and here she was, back inside a mess, as her and her friends somehow manage to find themselves in yearly.  In 1983, it had been bad luck—what had happened to Will could have been avoided, it was just an unlucky roll of the dice—in 1984, it had been coincidence but this was the third time. Three times now that Carla had found herself wrapped up in seemingly impossible shit.  Now that couldn't just be fate randomly picking. Not anymore.

As Carla continued the countdown in her head, the library phone rang, causing the girl to slightly jump at the unexpected sound.  Sighing, she picked up the item and set it to her ear, putting fake enthusiasm in her voice, "Hawkins Library, Carla speaking, how may I help you?"

"Hi, Carla."

The brunette didn't expect the voice that came through the phone, "El?"

"Hi."

Carla wasn't sure why the Hopper girl was calling her.  The only person she called on the daily was Mike, but based on the fact that her brother was still in the house, she assumed they were still not talking, "What's up?"