[ 12 ]

JODIE STOOD SILENTLY in the midst of Jim's tiny living room, watching the man stalk from window to window, drawing the shutters tight so that no one would be able to peer inside to see the pair. The smell of cigarettes and beer wafted around her, and she was tempted to have a smoke herself.

     Jim scratched at his stubbled cheeks, his blue eyes trailing over the couch, the lamp, the mess of magazines and plates on his table. In that moment, no where felt safe.

     Taking in Jim's unease, Jodie waltzed towards his bedroom and flopped down on the mattress like the Queen of Ibiza. She spread out and sighed, letting her mind wander through the mess of a night.

'We should kick down the Laboratory's door,' Jodie had told Hop, her eyes wild as he kicked the police cruiser into gear. The truck hit the streets at a high speed, racing away from the fake body and unconscious state trooper inside.

'Don't joke like that,' Jim had warned, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. Headlights flashed past, while Jim brewed and considered every potential option before them. 'CIA, NSA, shit, Jodie — we don't know how far up this goes.'

'So, what? We just roll over and take it?' Jodie had scoffed, slouching in the passenger seat as the scent of aftershave and earth filled her senses. 'I've never been a fan of missionary, and I'm not about to start.'

      Jim had bit back his response, mind reeling.  Jodie Whittier sure could turn a phrase...

     'We're going to figure it out,' Jim told her, approaching his home and cutting the engine. Dust had kicked up in the air, glittering in the night and clouding the cold winter air. Jim had unbuckled his seatbelt and grabbed his gun, staring deeply into Jodie's dark gaze. 'But, for now, we need to lay low and I need to come up with a plan.'

     And the plan? Stay hidden, until the dead of night came. Then, Jim claimed he would go it alone — break into the Hawkins Laboratory and see what mysteries were inside.

      By then, Jim believed that even the midnight oil burners would be up and gone, and he would be able to roam freely and silently — alone. 

Jodie watched the popcorn ceiling of Jim's house, making out faces in the dips and pivots, wondering how the hell life had gotten so screwed up.

The body cropped up in her mind and she wondered how many others had been involved. It had looked so real, so lifelike. It was a horrid feeling, that settled in the pit of her throat.

Something truly gruesome must have happened to Will Byers. Something terrible. Something so horrendous that even the fucking government was trying to keep anyone from knowing.

And yet, Joyce was in contact with him.       With Will.

It was enough to give Jodie hope, despite the crippling fear lodged in her chest. Hope that perhaps Will would be okay, and that he'd come home.

There was a popping crack at the bedroom door, and Jodie jumped. Jim sported a small smirk and reached out a beer — sporting one in each hand.

"Here," Jim said. Jodie gripped the amber bottle and took a swig, washing down the yeasty brew with a satisfied slurp. "This will take a little while. I can take you home," Jim paused as he watched the girl simply offer him the finger in reply. She took another long pull from her beer.

     Jim's face scrunched in a predicted display, the corners of his mouth flattening into a tight line. He sighed, stumbled over to the bed, and let out a low groan as he sat down across from her. "Yup," he responded to her gesture. "Thought as much."

     Jodie pulled her knees to her chest and sighed too. "I don't wanna be here alone." She toyed with a strand of hair, pulling at the frayed ends. Jim watched her in a timid sort of way, shelled up and distant from the woman. His usual state. "But, it's better than being there." Alone — she's left the word unsaid.

     It had taken Jodie a little time to realize it, but she hadn't spent much time in the Whittier house since she'd returned to Hawkins.

     After Will's disappearance, the darkness in the home seemed to only grow, swarming into a circling cyclone of despair. Of emptiness. It gnawed on her bones when she was there, sucking out her very marrow. Jodie wasn't sure if she could ever bring herself to return.

     The house hadn't been all bad, of course. There had been days of laughter. Days of cheer. Days spent inside while the rain fell and her parents were away, and Jodie and Jamey would bake cookies, gorge themselves on bad candy and watch shitty, static television until their stomachs ached.

      There had been days of love too, though those seemed far out of reach to her now.

     If Jodie could trap time in a bottle, she'd have kept those times. She would hide away in them, safe and sound from the life they were living now.

     "What're you thinkin' ?" Jim asked. His voice was low, and his eyes danced across Jodie's sombre brow with a curiosity that reminded her of a detective.

     Jodie sipped at her beer and changed the subject entirely, flipping onto her back and pressing down into Jim's sheets. They smelt like Downy fabric softener. There was a hint of the same aftershave and earthy stench, but it only lingered, faintly.

     "Can I ask you somethin' ," she teased, propping herself up on the bed and looking him square in the eye. The low light of the overhead lamp cast the room in a soft, halogen light. Jim knew by the coy twist on her plump lips that he wouldn't like where this conversation would be going.

      A brief moment filled the air and Jim took another, deep, drink of his beer. He finished it off and set the bottle on the nightstand before wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand and clearing his throat. "Ahem," he shrugged, "anything you want."

Before Jodie could ask her question, Jim stood and grabbed the empty beer in her hand along with the one on the stand. He teetered into the living room and tossed them into the garbage.

Jodie could hear the metallic open and shut of the icebox, the squeak of his boots as he circled back to the room, and the pop of bottle caps as he wandered back through the wooden doorframe to the bedroom, with more alcohol in hand for the both of them.

"I figured we needed another round before your interrogation," Jim explained. He sat back down on the bed and Jodie half smiled, taking the beer and laughing curtly. She cheers-ed to him and took another sip of the local brew.

The taste was familiar. And, it dawned on Jodie as she scratched at the paper label, this was the brew Benny sold.

Jodie frowned at the memory, pushing it away aggressively. She turned from the bottle and back to Jim, who had been watching her expressions like a movie-goer, wondering what she'd say next.

"Who was your first love?" She casually asked, sitting back up and taking another sip. "Your first wife?"

"Ah," Jim belted, leaning back and shaking his head. "I don't want to talk about that."

"No, come on," Jodie pleaded, "you said anything I wanted."

Jim scoffed. "I didn't think you were gonna ask that." He took another drink of his beer and watched her with wild eyes.

Jodie wasn't sure what to make of the look. But, she wanted to pretend that things were normal for a little while. And, what was more normal than having brews and talking about past lovers?

Sensing Jim's unease, Jodie pressed further. She eyed him over the rim of the amber bottle and arched a dusty blonde brow. "Are you still in love with her?"

"Ha, no, but..." Jim's head wobbled back and forth as he stopped talking. A bird called somewhere in the night, the ceiling fan click-click-clicked away.

      "But?" Jodie was intrigued. She leant closer to Jim. He flushed under her watchful gaze. "I'll show you mine, if you show me yours."

      "Sounds...," he inhaled, making a deep sound that made an unconscious smile creep over Jodie's lips, "promising."

      "Come on," Jodie said, her lips parting into a wide, toothy smile that beckoned good conversation.

      Jim weighed the options, she could see it on his face. Finally, he took a deep breath and shrugged. "Screw it," he said. He kicked off his boots and settled down next to her on the bed, head propped up on two pillows while she watched him with her childish grin.

     "Gale Castle," he said, tipping his beer to Jodie. The lights overhead dimmed for a moment.

     "Never heard of her."

     "Well, she's probably fifty years older than you, so that would explain that."

      "An older woman, Jim?" Jodie gasped in a melodramatic fashion. "I'm shocked." Truthfully, the fact that he'd had a thing for older women did cut her in a way she couldn't quite explain.

     "She was my middle school teacher. I was in love with that woman." Jim let out a genuine chuckle, his eyes seemed to sparkle with a memory that Jodie couldn't see.

      Jodie chuckled along, thinking back to her own childish fantasies when she was a middle school student. "A teacher? Did you ever say anything?"

      Jim laughed and shook his head no.

      Jodie laid down next to Jim, turning her head to watch him as he relived that memory. The air was sweet and yeasty. The glow of the light hit Jim's smokey golden hair and created a halo effect around him. Of course, Jodie was probably just a little buzzed, but she didn't care.

      Sucking in a deep breath, Jodie tried to trap this moment in her time bottle. Tried to commit him to memory. She wanted to be able to come back to this place, some day, and picture every bit in perfect detail.

      Jodie squinted at him, however, still not yet satisfied by his answer. "You're lying, Jim."

      "What?"

      "Come on, a teacher? That's a school boy crush. Everyone has a crush on a teacher at some point."

      "Did you?"

      "Of course," Jodie admitted, rolling her eyes as if that was the most ridiculous question ever.

      "Woman?"

      "Wouldn't you like to know," she teased.

       Jim propped himself up on his elbows, watching her expression as he looked down at her. "I would."

       She simply scoffed in reply. Her blonde hair was scattered around her head as she nestled deeper into the pillow underneath her head. She parted and closed her lips delicately, laying a hand over her stomach while the other brought the remains of her beer to her lips.

Jim copied her movements and took another drink, feeling something bubbling up to the surface that he wanted to want to fight.

He flopped back down onto the bed, and they lay like that for an uncounted amount of time, in comfortable but charged silence. Jodie played with the paper label of her beer, peeling the corners until it started to tear.

     Once hers was empty, Jodie sat up and grabbed them another round, helping herself to Jim's old fridge.

       She perched on the end of the bed and used the bottle opener to crack open the bottles, the fizzled sounds breaking the quiet of the night. She handed one to Jim, his waiting hand extended as he sat up, took a small swig and let out a satisfied groan as he stretched out across Jodie's legs, his upper shoulders in her lap, his watchful eyes peering up at her surprised face.

      Jim closed his eyes and took a deep breath, smiling softly. "All right, her name was Chrissy Carpenter. She went to school with me," Jim explained. "We got together Junior year."

      "I remember that I used to tell my mom I was on the debate team," Jim chuckled, his eyes still shut as he recalled the time. "But, I was really having sex with Chrissy in my dad's Oldsmobile."

      "And?" Jodie prodded, watching him relish in the memory with his head resting near her exposed knees.

      "We dated, she was my first kiss, ... my first everything."

     "Really?"

     "Yeah, and then, she moved away. Got a job out in Indiana, went to college, moved to the West Coast." Jodie could tell by the short phrasing that he'd told this story before, it was rehearsed and curt. She knew why.

     "She broke your heart."

     "She broke my heart."

Jodie frowned, feeling upset even though she'd known where this tale would go. "I'm sorry."

Jim laughed, shaking his head. His hair tickled her exposed legs and she laughed too. "You're not Chrissy Carpenter, so don't apologize."

     "Mmm." That was all Jodie could say.

      She could feel the beer's effect. But, she noticed that Jim hadn't touched his. It was for the best. It was better not to be buzzed when breaking into a government controlled facility.

      There was another moment of silence. Jodie spent it watching Jim's relaxed face. It was such a change compared to the usual, anxious expression that the Chief of Police was always wearing.

      Jim peeled one eye open and squinted up at her. "What about you?"

     "I don't think I wanna say."

      Both of his eyes opened at that and he smirked, talking lowly with a hint of sarcasm. "What happened to I'll show you mine if you show me yours?"

      Tossing her head back, Jodie rolled out her shoulders and shook with an exasperated sigh. "Jack Robinson," she said the name like it was a winning baseball player, it swung from her lips melodically.

       Jim didn't know the name. "Oh?"

      "Mhm." Since Jim had been gone, living the life of a big city cop, he'd missed the man named Jack Robinson. "He was the kid that always got in trouble with the law. Met him when I was twelve. My parents blamed him for the way I turned out."

       Jim let his keen eyes on her. "What happened?"

      "Well, like the idiom he shares, ...before you can say Jack Robinson,"

     "He disappeared on you."

      Jodie's eyes flashed at the memory. "I woke up one day and he was gone. I was fifteen. He just packed up his car and left, didn't even say goodbye. Mom couldn't have been happier."

     "People always talk about how great love is," Jim grumbled, sitting up and scratching the back of his neck. "When it's good, it's really good. But when it's bad...".

     "It's really bad."

      "It's awful." Jim chuckled. "It's better to be alone."

"CAN I COME with?" Jodie tried once more, sitting on the edge of the bed in Jim's trailer, watching the man jam his boots back onto his feet, lacing them up tightly.

"No, stay here." Jim wasn't pulling any punches. The moon was hanging high in the sky, and the clock read well past midnight.

Jodie bounced off the bed and shuffled towards the door. "Okay, so I'm coming."

He pushed her back, it was a light push, but Jodie flinched at his touch anyway, her obsessive nature taking root. "Stay. Here." Jim shoved his gun back into its holster, a dark gleam on his face at the coming turmoil. "Do you understand me?"

"I'm not a child —" Jodie protested. She wasn't liking the way he was speaking to her.

"No, you're not." Jim grabbed Jodie's shoulders, looking into her wide, dark eyes. She could sense the fear that bubbled up in his own gaze. And, she wondered what he was thinking. "But, you need to trust me." Jodie wondered what Jim saw in the depths of her own gaze.

Could he see past her outer shield?
Could he see how terrified she was for Will, for herself,... for him?

  "Do you trust me?" Jim asked. His tone was soft, almost pleading.

Her breathing hitched in her lungs, a broken whisper of air. Jodie ripped her eyes from Jim's compulsive, azure stare. "I . . .," Jodie paused, thinking how much she wanted to revert to her solemn, sarcastic cave.

Jodie tried not to think about how long it had been since she'd last trusted someone. She didn't like the fact that her answer terrified her, chilling her to the bone.

"I trust you."

⌱ ⌱ ⌱

[There should be a GIF or video here. Update the app now to see it.]

(I'm sure "Chrissy Carpenter" was triggering in light of this season LOL. But I swear,
I wrote this scene years ago OKAY
— it's not my fault)

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this one is dedicated to @peterdaya