(no subject)

[eggos]

Eleven isn't sure how she feels about school. Monday had been largely a blur, as she'd been shown around and learned how to find her classes. She'd had to stand up at the beginning of class and introduce herself, and that had been uncomfortable. A few kids had snickered at her. She hadn't liked that.

Lunch had been alright, at least, and she'd had fun in gym, too, because it'd mostly just been running and doing some stretches.

The classes themselves are either very hard, or very easy. El isn't stupid, and Hopper had done his best to teach her at home, but there are some things she just hasn't had the chance to learn yet, and that leaves her slightly behind her peers. She knows she should pay closer attention, but sometimes, she finds herself looking out the window, or watching the other students in the room.

Which is obviously also a mistake, because on Tuesday, the teacher notices, and calls on her to answer his question.

Only El doesn't know what the question is.

She looks at him, her eyes wide but her expression otherwise schooled.

"What?" she asks.

That raises a wave of giggles from the other students, and El frowns slightly. It's not funny.

"Elle, you should really be paying attention, so you can learn this stuff," the teacher says, in a tone very much like the one Papa used on her. Eleven grips the edge of her desk tightly and the lights flicker once, twice before settling.

"I will," she says, but she doesn't apologize.

"We just went over this yesterday, people!" the teacher says, addressing the rest of the class, now. "I know at least one or two of you were listening. Now who can tell me a little bit about the Prohibition?"

Comments

[finally_ahead]

"Okay," Stan says, nodding. It reminds him a little of some of his talks with Bev, knowing there's something else there, though he knows enough about Bev to be able to avoid the really sensitive spots.

And so he considers his next words carefully, like he considers most things.

"So I can guess that there's some things you have to keep a secret," Stan tells her. "I get it. Everyone has things they can't tell other people, I guess. I'm just... I don't need to know, to still, um, be your friend. So it's okay, if you say you can't say." He focuses his gaze ahead of him, cheeks faintly colored.

[eggos]

Eleven watches him as he speaks, and she smiles small. "Thank you," she whispers. If he'd pushed, she probably would've told him. Secrets feel a little too close to a lie, for her, and she doesn't want to do that, either. And she probably will still tell him, eventually. But not right now. Not today.

When they reach the library, it's quiet. There aren't many people in there, either, and she feels herself relax a little. It's nice. Probably the best part of the whole school, actually.

She lets Stan pick out a table and sits near him, setting her bag on the floor by her chair and pulling out her history book and notebook.

[finally_ahead]

Stan ducks his head a little, and then thankfully they're at the library.

It takes him a little bit longer to feel properly set up, even if he's trying not to fuss too much over things being right. He's also considering what they'd just talked about, and he's not entirely sure yet how to approach how much she knows already, about any history, if she's never been to school.

"So," he says, the word a bit weighty with consideration, "all the teachers here are different in what they want from you, but this guy is actually pretty straightforward. He doesn't want to do a lot of extra work, so he's happy if you takes notes and follow the book."

[eggos]

El listens, nodding a little, and she looks at the book for a moment before looking at Stan.

"Then why is he a teacher?" she asks, with a sort of blunt innocence. Why is he a teacher, if he doesn't want to do the work?

[finally_ahead]

Stan feels some of the tension drain from his shoulders, and the corner of his mouth pulls up.

"Honestly? The school has a rule that if you want to coach a sport, you have to work here. He coaches the basketball team, or is one of the coaches, and I guess he must have studied history. He likes the coaching part better than the teaching part."

He flips open to a page of painstakingly written notes.

"That works in our favor, though."

[eggos]

"Because we can come here to work," she deduces. She presses her lips together as she opens her notebook, the pages as clean and white as the day it'd been printed. "I don't like him," she admits. She shakes her head a little. "Mouth breather."

[finally_ahead]

"Yeah," Stan says, his sideway grin only warming. "It's peaceful, and no one bothers you. And the other good thing is, if we do the work the way he wants, he stays out of the way."

He can't help a laugh at the description.

"Maybe," he allows. "Probably got his nose broken in too many fights."

[eggos]

She's not sure what a broken nose has to do with being a mouth breather, but maybe that's something she missed when Mike had first told her. She doesn't say anything about it, though, just looks at Stan's notes before looking at her own pathetically blank paper.

"How do you know what to write down?" she asks.

[finally_ahead]

"I have a trick," Stan answers, "but most of it's just practice and sometimes the teachers tell you. I make an outline, because it's the same every time." Doing notes like this soothes him, sometimes, even if he's not really paying attention to the content as much as ordering the information and lining it up.

"You list the important thing first, and then it's more details as you go down." He takes up a pencil, even if he doesn't like how they smudge, for ease of erasing versus starting over. Motioning at her paper, he asks, "Can I?"

[eggos]

She nods and slides the notebook closer to him so it's easier to write. Then she moves a little closer, too, so she can see better. She's never 'outlined' before, and she's got a lot of questions about that, too.

"How do I know what's most important?" she asks.

[finally_ahead]

Stan smiles, warm and quiet, like sharing a secret.

He is, in a way. He's sharing how having such a precise system puts him at ease, one of his defenses against the rest of the world. It's a defense he'll share, because whether she finds it useful or not, she won't laugh.

"That's the trick," he says, and turns to the most recently assigned chapter in the book. "See this paragraph? The first sentence is usually the most important, and you can go from there. Most of these books are written like that. And if a word is marked like this," and he taps toward a bolded vocabulary word, "then it's important too."

[eggos]

She frowns in concentration as she listens, because she wants to make sure she understands what he's saying. The idea that the first sentence is usually the most important is easy enough. It means she's not going to be struggling to figure out what to note down. The bolded words are good, too.

She offers Stan a small, grateful smile.