[COMPLETED UNTIL SEASON 5]
Ana Thompson always seems to wind up in the strangest predicaments...
A perpetual victim of Murphy's Law, Ana finds herself arriving in Hawkins, Indiana just prior to the events of November 6th, 1983.
And, just prior to f...
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EVENTUALLY, summer began to dwindle until all that remained was the evening before parent-teacher night, an event which would surely slaughter any semblance of freedom Ana had previously been enjoying.
That night, she sat with arms crossed over the bar, her chin resting atop of them. Her eyes were glazed over, barely registering the sight of whatever was playing on the television across the counter. Likely some sporting event she couldn't be bothered to engage with or contribute any effort into following.
"You seem excited for the first day," Hopper commented, saddling up in the seat beside hers before placing his drink order.
The only response his observation received was an exaggerated groan while she dramatically plopped her forehead down on her perched arms. He didn't need to remind her of that particular reality, she had come to the bar in an attempt to forget her looming professional duties.
"Adults are the worst," came the muffled reply from behind her caged arms. After all, the Grinch never really hated Christmas. He hated people, which is fair.
"It can't be that bad," Hopper tried while readying himself a cigarette, the lighter clicking noisily as the flame ignited.
Ana finally sat up with a huff and crossed her arms over her chest. "It really is. Kids are one thing, but parents..." she took a long draw from the drink in front of her before proceeding. "Parents can't fathom that their children are anything less than perfect angels when they aren't watching." Willful ignorance or maybe denial on their part, but middle schoolers were heathens and not the sweet creatures they had once known before puberty struck.
Hopper nodded his head in understanding while taking a swing of his own glass. He was back to drinking whiskey instead of beer, which always meant something, but that night Ana was too preoccupied to ask about the shift. "I bet you were a real troublemaker in school," she commented, finally looking at him.
"You're not wrong," he admitted with a chuckle, and there was a telling, mischievous glint behind his eyes that made her wonder just how much of a problem he had been growing up.
"What kind of shenanigans did you get into as a kid?" She questioned, knowing there had to be a multitude of examples to follow his admission.
Hopper took a moment to categorize all the youthful misdeeds in his head before settling on one. "My mom thought I was on the debate team when really I was just screwing Chrissy Carpenter in the back of my dad's Oldsmobile at the old junkyard," he confessed with a smug smirk and a faraway look as if he were remembering good times long since past.
This drew a hearty laugh from her chest, "so your licentiousness is historic?" She asked and Hopper cocked his head at her in confusion. Sometimes, that girl knew too many words for her own good. "Slut, I'm saying you've always been a slut," she said with a cocky grin of her own, barely concealed behind her beer.
"Shut up," was the only retort he had to the accusation. Even if it wasn't an outward judgment of his behavior, each time she pointed out his sleazy antics, Hopper felt a measure of shame for being so flippant in his previous encounters with women. "I bet you never got into any trouble in school," he commented, instead, to shift the train of thought.
"You'd be right," she nodded while licking her lips, and his eyes trailed the action involuntarily. "I was downright saintly." That declaration earned her a skeptical look and a raised brow. "Alright, not exactly saintly," she conceded, "but I kept my head down. I was an athlete, so I had to keep my act together, for the most part."
"Oh yeah," he replied while stubbing out his first cigarette before reaching for a second. "What sport?"
"Swimming. I was actually pretty good at it," she answered matter of factly while reaching for one of his cigarettes without bothering to ask permission. "If I'm ever trapped on a sinking ship, I'm definitely making it back to shore." The irony of boasting about her lung capacity and athleticism while smoking wasn't lost on Ana, but she couldn't be bothered with the obvious contradiction.
"I didn't know that about you," Hopper observed. Another thing he'd learned and would make an effort to remember.
"There's plenty you don't know about me, Chief," Ana concluded with a wink that somehow promised he'd learn about the plenty later.
She'd been wrong, Parent Teacher Night wasn't the worst as declared, but it wasn't exactly fun either. Every adult either wanted to waylay her with an extensive history of their child, or ask her a million questions she didn't have any answers to. Didn't they know she was new to the school and the state?
She'd fumbled her way through, though, embodying her personal motto of 'fake it till you make it.' There were too many kids and parents to bother remembering all of them. Again, she was notoriously bad with names. However, there were a few exceptions Ana had made an exerted effort to pay extra attention to.
During one of her semi-regular dinners with Scott Clarke and Jen, Ana had been made aware of some of Hawkins Middle's best and brightest. Mike Wheeler, Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, and Will Byers were four kids who clearly held a special place in the science teacher's heart. Members of his little AV club, Clarke said they were all good kids, albeit a bit rambunctious at times, his words.
So, on the first night, those were the parents she looked out for. Trying to get a feel for what to expect come the first day of school.
Karen Wheeler was the first to approach her. A prim and proper woman, Mrs. Wheeler, was sweet, but a bit chatty for her taste. Ana chalked that up to Mr. Wheeler not being much of a conversationalist. The matriarch of the Wheeler household reminded Ana of her own mother in that sense, married to a man who didn't entirely give her the attention she craved, and who resided in a marriage that was more of a partnership based on raising children than one of romance at that point.
Next came the Sinclairs, dragging their youngest, Erica, in tow. The Sinclair girl seemed a handful, to say the least. She wasn't pleased in the slightest to be carted along with her parents and made her frustrations known. The family had spoken with Ms. Thompson long enough to know she'd be Lucas' teacher for the year prior to hightailing it out of there before Erica could thoroughly make a scene. Ana was confident she'd be graced with the second Sinclair child in her class in a few year's time, assuming she lasted that long in Hawkins.
Meeting Mrs. Henderson was less stressful, comparatively, but equally as impressive. Claudia Henderson was the personification of a cat lady, there was no doubt about it. She's managed to corner Ana for the better part of twenty minutes talking about, well, honestly, Ana couldn't follow. She'd nodded her head politely while the women went on, mostly speaking to herself, and finally stopped her with one gentle hand on the shoulder, and a, 'I'm excited to have Dustin in class,' before fleeing the vicinity.
Will Byers' mother was a no-show. Scott had warned Ana that this was a possibility, giving her a brief rundown of the boy's tumultuous home life. Mr. Byers was an absentee father at best, more of a sperm donor than anything, from what she gathered. Leaving Joyce Byers stretched thin, trying to care for two boys by herself. Ana pitied her in that sense, believing parents shouldn't abandon their children regardless of their own personal failings.
Ana had ended up drinking her two beers at the bar alone that night, no Hopper in sight. Without his company, she felt strangely lonely for the first time since arriving in Hawkins. But, she chose not to dwell on the momentary feeling and downed her drinks, ruminating over what she'd learned about the town and its occupants that evening.
