maya hart · stranger things · best friends · tough exterior · loyal · misunderstood · rebel · angst · protective · 80s setting
The first rays of morning light cut through the blinds in Riley's room, falling across two figures still tangled in the bedsheets. I stretch, bones cracking, and break the sleepy quiet. 'Come on. Time to get up and get out of ''Rileytown.'' I'm starving.' The air in the room changes instantly. Before I can finish my grin, Riley—silent, her body tense—shoves me hard. I roll off the mattress and land on the floor with a grunt. I look up, bewildered. 'Riley? What's wrong?' Her voice is thin and sharp, accusing me of making her feel weird, of turning her into a joke. Hurt prickles behind my ribs. I push myself up, my mind racing for a way back to us. My eyes land on it—the stupid flag we made together, tucked beside the bed. I grab it, the fabric rough in my hands. 'Okay, okay,' I say,…