CHAPTER 2: The Three-Legged Race
The whole school is rolling fake dice,
You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes
— Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince
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9th September, 1983: Hawkins High, Soccer Pitch
AT THE END OF THEIR FIRST FULL WEEK BACK AT school, Daphne made her way to the outdoor pitches clad in her brand new Hawkins High cheerleading uniform. She'd received the news earlier that day that she'd officially been promoted to flyer, so she was more excited than ever to get started with practice.
As Daphne got closer, she realised that the pitch was a lot more crowded than usual. Frowning, the girl moved over to stand beside Heather Holloway. Heather was a fellow cheerleader, and she and Daphne were quite friendly due to the overlap of their social circles. Heather glanced over as Daphne approached, her tanned skin wrinkled as she looked out across the field.
"What's going on?" asked Daphne, referring to the hordes of students holding instruments that were taking up half of the pitch. "Why are there so many people out here?"
"Apparently there was some sort of scheduling mix-up," replied Heather. "The marching band is supposed to practise here today, too. Coach is trying to sort it out now."
"Something tells me Miss Genovese isn't going to budge on the matter," Daphne snorted, knowing how stubborn the music teacher was.
As it turned out, Daphne was right. No amount of pleading or bargaining could convince Miss Genovese to remove her band geeks from the pitches, so Coach Janet had to compromise. The field was split in half, with the cheerleading squad taking one side and the marching band taking the other. Neither side was particularly happy about the arrangement.
Daphne and the other cheerleaders had been practising some simple routines for the past forty minutes to warm up and get back into the swing of things. As they neared the end of practice, Coach Janet proposed that they try a stunt, a suggestion that had Daphne feeling increasingly nervous — after all, this would be her first time performing a stunt as a flyer.
The bases assembled and took their stances, gripping Daphne's thighs as they lifted her into the air. Daphne's spotter stood behind her, ready to catch her if things went amiss. Things were going smoothly until the bases moved to throw Daphne into the air at the same time as one of the trumpets blasted loudly from across the field. One of the bases lost her grip on Daphne's thigh, and the flyer started to fall sideways. The other cheerleaders hastened to grab her before she fell, but they weren't quick enough.
As she hit the ground, Daphne grunted in pain as she landed on her ankle, which took almost the full force of her weight on it. The other girls crowded around her, muttering worriedly amongst one another. Coach Janet rushed over to them, and even the marching band stopped playing to get a glimpse at the commotion.
"Daphne, are you okay?" asked Heather, concern flooding her doe eyes.
"It's just my ankle," said Daphne, through gritted teeth. "I landed badly on it."
"It was that damn marching band," snapped Coach Janet. "I knew it was a bad idea to let them practise at the same time as us when they're so clearly out of shape. Daphne dear, can you walk on your ankle?"
Daphne bit her lip, using Heather's arm as support as she tried to pull herself to her feet. She grunted in pain as she tried to put weight on her sore ankle, which threatened to buckle and send her tumbling back to the floor again.
"I can take her to the nurse, Coach," offered Heather.
"No, I need you here. Practice isn't over, and we may have to put in even more work if we've just lost a flyer," grumbled Coach Janet. She turned her gaze over towards the marching band, pinpointing a tall blonde girl who didn't seem to be doing anything. "Miss Genovese, can you spare one of your students to take our flyer to the nurse? That one doesn't seem to be doing anything particularly important."
Miss Genovese scowled. "Who, Robin? Fine, take her. She's not doing me any use here, anyway."
"Always nice to be appreciated," muttered Robin sarcastically, before following Coach Janet over to the injured cheerleader.
Robin really wasn't looking forward to tending to one of the cheerleaders. They were notoriously stuck up and mean, and they certainly did not get along with the band geeks. The girl in question was still sitting on the floor, a sour look on her face as her brunette friend fussed over her.
"Alright Daphne, this girl's going to take you to the nurse's office, okay?" said Coach Janet, talking to the girl as though she were six years old.
Heather and Coach Janet slowly helped Daphne to her feet before passing her over to the tall girl, who reluctantly wrapped Daphne's arm around her waist. Daphne herself was not all too happy to be half carried to the nurse's office by a band geek, forcing herself to grit her teeth as Robin helped her across the field.
When they reached the school entrance, Daphne pulled herself out of Robin's grasp, balancing against the wall for support. "I'm fine. I don't need your help anymore, band geek."
Robin raised an eyebrow. "Really? So you're telling me you're not going to collapse the minute I walk out this door?"
"That's right," said Daphne stubbornly. "I'm sure I just twisted it. It's no big deal."
"Look, you're clearly in pain and you're not going to make it to the nurse without my help," sighed Robin. "Trust me when I tell you that I don't want to be here any more than you do, so can you please just suck it up so I can get out of here?"
Daphne let out a stubborn huff. She was already irritable, given that her flying career might have ended on the very same day it started, so she was really not in the mood for any of this. But the band geek had a point. She couldn't put any weight on her ankle, so it looked like she would just have to swallow her pride and let her help.
"Fine," huffed Daphne. "Just take my arm, okay?"
Robin nodded in agreement, moving to Daphne's side and letting her grip her bicep tightly. The two girls made their way down the hallway towards the nurse's office, when they were stopped in their tracks by a familiar face. Steve Harrington peered down at them in confusion, his perfectly styled hair shining in the fluorescent lighting.
"Are you guys like, practising for the three-legged race or something?" he asked, his brow furrowing. "Because I'm not even sure you're supposed to be in here—"
"No, dingus," snapped Robin. "Barbie here hurt her ankle at cheerleading practice and I'm taking her to the nurse's office, so I would appreciate it if you could move out of our way."
"You hurt your ankle?" Steve asked Daphne, completely ignoring the second part of Robin's statement. "Are you alright?"
"I'm okay," said Daphne nonchalantly. "It hurts a bit, but it's probably just twisted."
"Here, I'll take you to the nurse myself," said Steve, holding out his arm for Daphne.
Robin went to protest, but the cheerleader seemed more than happy to leave Robin's side in favour of Steve. The taller girl rolled her eyes in exasperation. Typical. She stood and watched as Daphne and Steve limped down the hallway together, chatting under their breath. The girl didn't even bother to utter a thank you to Robin for hauling her across the football pitch. But then again, Robin wasn't really all that surprised. She was at the bottom of the food chain, and people like Daphne would never give her the time of day.
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12th September, 1983: Hawkins High, Hallway
"I mean, what even is the point of band? They're always off-key, their uniforms are so ugly they make me want to gouge my eyes out with a fork, and what use is playing the damn trumpet going to be to anyone after high school anyway?"
Daphne stalked down the hallway of Hawkins High purposefully, her two friends following slightly behind her. The sea of students seemed to part for her as she glided through, but Daphne didn't bother to spare them a glance. She was too busy focusing on her complete and utter rage caused by her sprained ankle, and anyone in her path was just another casualty.
"It might be of use to, like, a professional trumpet player," said Meera, her face completely serious.
Daphne rolled her eyes, shooting Meera a glare. "Well aside from that vast demographic, they're a waste of space. I mean, thanks to them I can't practise for three weeks. The team is going to crumble without me."
"As worried as we all are about the state of Hawkins' Cheerleading Team, I think there are more important matters to discuss," said Fern drily. "For example — you're coming to the start of year bonfire this weekend, right Daph?"
"I'm not sure," replied Daphne, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "If I go anywhere near a large fire right now I might be tempted to throw myself in it."
"Oh, come on," sighed Fern. "It's not the end of the world, it's just a sprain. You're acting like you lost the damn leg."
Fern was the only one who ever dared to speak to Daphne like that, and certainly the only one who could get away with it. They had been friends ever since Daphne moved to Hawkins, and their long-standing friendship brought with it certain privileges, such as the ability to speak to each other in whatever manner they pleased.
"You have to come to the bonfire, Daph, it's a rite of passage!" whined Meera, wrapping her arm around Daphne's bicep. She dropped into a lower-pitched voice, wiggling her eyebrows. "Besides, Steve will be there."
Fern scoffed under her breath. "I wonder if it's safe for him to be around an open flame with that much hair gel on his head."
Daphne shot her best friend a withering look. "Hair gel isn't flammable, Fern. But I suppose I might make an appearance. If I can't find anything better to do."
They arrived at Daphne's locker, the blonde's face contorting in disgust at the sight of a freshman couple pinned against it, eating each other's faces off.
"Here we go..." Fern muttered under her breath.
"Get off my locker, you freshman freaks!" Daphne shrieked. The couple immediately jumped away from each other as if they had been burned, looking up at the cheerleader with anxious expressions. She plastered a condescending smile on her face, turning to the freshman girl. "He's not going to war sweetheart, you'll see him next period."
The couple exchanged terrified glances before scampering away hand in hand. Daphne huffed a breathy laugh, making a show of wiping down her locker before she opened it. High school had always been this way for her — she told people what to do and they did it.
"What do you have next?" asked Meera breezily, unaffected by the freshman couple's live sex show.
"Biology with Keys," replied Daphne, taking her books out of her locker. "I'm so not looking forward to listening to him drone on about cow hearts for two hours. I swear anyone who is that obsessed with mutilating animals needs to be investigated."
"Gross, are you doing the dissection today?" asked Fern, wrinkling her nose.
"Yeah, but it's fine. I sit next to that ginger boy with the greasy hair, so I'll just make him do it for me."
"You're such a bitch, Daph," hummed Fern, a sly smirk conveying the humour she found in Daphne's comment. "Anyways, I've got to run. I have PE on the other side of the school and these shoes were not made for running."
"Me too," Meera piped up. "Well, my class is just down the hall, but I want to get there early so I can flirt with Mr Green."
"Oh, please," scoffed Fern. "If anyone's going to hook up with Mr Green, it's going to be me."
Daphne watched as they walked down the hall together, bickering humorously about the hot Geography teacher. She turned back to her locker, rummaging around until she found a spare pencil. She closed the door abruptly, almost jumping out of her skin at the sight of a face on the other side of it.
"Christ, this isn't a cheap horror film, Adam. Don't sneak up on me like that."
A senior who Daphne recognised from the soccer team leant against the locker beside hers, grinning cockily at the cheerleader. He was a year older than her and had always kind of given her the creeps, so she was a little on edge with the close proximity between them. She shuffled on the heels of her feet, stepping a little further away from him.
"Sorry, Daphne," said Adam slickly. "I just wanted to say you are looking fine today. Did you do something new with your hair?"
"No, not that you would have noticed if I did, considering you are only staring at my chest."
"Right," laughed Adam, seemingly unfazed by her comment. "Well anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight. The Outsiders is showing at the outdoor cinema."
"I'm alright, thanks," replied Daphne, clutching her textbook closer to her chest. A tiny voice in her head wondered if it would make a decent weapon.
"We could see something else if The Outsiders isn't your cup of tea?" Adam continued, undeterred by her rather blunt rejection.
"No, I've seen them."
"You've seen... all the movies?" asked Adam, raising an eyebrow.
"Yup. Every last one."
"Oh come on, Daphne. You're hot, I'm hot, what am I missing here?"
He moved closer to her until their breath practically mingled in the space between them. Daphne felt something brush against her hip, and when she looked down, she saw that Adam was tugging at the edge of her shirt. Her face screwed up in disgust, and before she knew it, she was whacking him around the face with her chunky biology textbook.
"Maybe a mirror?" she spat, all the while hitting him with the textbook. "Or some" — hit — "shred" — hit — "of self-awareness?" Hit.
"Hey, what's going on here?" a new voice came from behind Daphne, temporarily distracting the girl from her textbook-inflicted assault.
She spun around to see Steve Harrington standing behind her, his arms folded and eyebrows furrowed in concern. She lowered the textbook awkwardly, looking from the angry jock in front of her to the confused jock behind her.
"We're all good over here, right Davenport?" said Adam finally, creating some space between them.
"Yes," said Daphne sharply, shooting him one last glare. "Adam was just leaving."
Adam met her gaze once more, pulling a face before turning and stalking off. Daphne sighed, her body instantly relaxing as he got further away. The jocks in Hawkins High weren't always the nicest people, and she really did not want to test how well they took rejection. She turned back to Steve, who was still staring down at her in concern.
"Hey, you alright?" he asked softly.
Daphne smiled, looking up to meet his gaze. "Yeah, I'm good."
"Are you sure?" pressed Steve, biting his lip. "It looked like Adam was giving you a hard time."
"He was just messing around," said Daphne, keeping her tone light and breezy. If she spread a rumour that she rejected Adam, she didn't want to think of how he would thank her. "Seriously, don't worry about it, Steve."
"...Okay," relented Steve, although he still looked as though he wanted to keep questioning her. He ran a hand through his hair, before remembering what he had come over to say. "I've actually been meaning to ask if you're going to the bonfire at the weekend?"
"Erm... yeah!" Although she had previously avoided answering that question, an actual invitation from Steve Harrington seemed to do the trick in convincing her. "I am. Are you?"
"Yeah," said Steve, an adorably lopsided grin lighting up his face. "I guess I'll see you there, Davenport."
"See you, Harrington."
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14th September, 1983: Hawkins High, Chemistry Class
Chemistry was Daphne's least favourite of all of the sciences. You might find that ironic, considering it was the very same science that her father specialised in, but that fact seemed to make her hate it even more. This year, they had to do a project in partners that was worth forty per cent of their grade — and it was on the most boring topic to ever exist.
"Ugh, I hope I get partnered with that ginger again, or maybe Trish," Daphne whispered to her best friend. "I really cannot be bothered with actually doing this lame project."
"For a notorious control freak, you are surprisingly willing to let other people do your work for you."
"I'll obviously be checking it over before we hand it in," retorted Daphne with a slick eye roll. "I'm not thick in the head, Fern."
The pair turned back to the front of the classroom where their Chemistry teacher was currently calling out the pairings. Ms Kerr was an older lady — practically ancient if you asked Daphne — with a harsh tongue and permanent frown lines. She definitely wasn't your typical crazy scientist Chemistry teacher.
"Daphne Davenport and... Steve Harrington."
Daphne's face was comical as she looked from Ms Kerr, to Fern, to Steve himself. She didn't believe in coincidences, but if she did, she would think this was a mighty big sign from the universe.
"Ha," snorted Fern. "Guess you're going to have to do the work yourself for once unless you fancy getting straight D's."
"Oh, shove off," scowled Daphne. "We can always do the project together."
"I can't imagine there being much work done if you and Steve are alone together."
Daphne elbowed her in the ribs sharply, missing the sour expression that had overtaken Fern's face. The brunette recovered swiftly, resuming her usual incessant questioning of whether Daphne was actually interested in Steve before they were interrupted by the arrival of none other than Steve Harrington himself.
"Hey, Daphne," he smirked, leaning one hand on the edge of Daphne's desk.
"Oh, hi, Steve," she beamed, looking up at him through her eyelashes. "What are the chances we get partnered together, hm?"
"I guess the universe owed me a favour," said Steve, shooting the blonde a wink. "Do you want to come round mine later and work on it together?"
"Is that slang for unprotected sex?" Fern interrupted bluntly.
Daphne shot her a vicious look. "Oh my God, Fern! Ignore her, I'm sorry."
Fern had always loved to embarrass Daphne, ever since they were kids. They were such polar opposites that it was rather easy to do. Fern was a brash, confident firestorm with no filter, whereas Daphne was nothing more than the sun on a particularly cloudy day. Fern never got embarrassed, but Daphne... well, Daphne definitely did.
Fortunately for her, Steve was chuckling appreciatively. It seemed he didn't get embarrassed easily, either. "So... are we on for tonight?"
Surprised, Daphne sat up straighter in her seat. "Oh! Yes, sure."
"Great," grinned Steve easily, pushing himself away from her desk. "I'll meet you in the parking lot after school."
"Can't wait."
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author's note !
so, the first few chapters of this book are just going to be establishing daphne's relationships with other characters and a little more about her as a person. i'm a strong believer that you can't root for a character you don't know, so i would like for you all to get to know her before we dive in with the s1 storyline.
rest assured though, daphne will play a large role in the events of s1, and will get the opportunity to meet and interact with all the characters.
let me know what you think of her relationships so far! steve/robin/fern/meera/her father!
don't be a ghost reader! plz like and especially comment, i love hearing from you.
love, el xx