SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 6TH, started as a day of celebration.
Ana Thompson woke up late that morning, one year older than the day before. After finally rolling out of bed, she'd spoken to her parents back in Texas, who both wished her a happy birthday. Then, she spent the rest of the day lounging around the house and doing whatever she pleased. Mostly reading, watching the occasional rerun on television, all while donning the same oversized sweatshirt she'd woken up in.
Continuing through her usual Sunday evening routine, Ana had moseyed into the local burger joint at 6:00 PM sharp and was greeted with a chorus of happy birthday from the patrons and owner. Benny had even baked her a special chocolate cake, delivering it to the table before announcing, "thirty-one. Guess it's time for you to settle down."
She snorted at the assumption that conforming to expectations was ever a part of the plan. "Not if I can help it," she dismissed while sending him a wink.
She'd received a similar greeting from the bar crowd upon arrival, before quickly seating herself next to Hopper at the countertop. "This for me?" She'd questioned, gesturing towards the second beer resting next to the one he was currently sipping on. "You shouldn't have," she said and took it without waiting for a reply.
"Figured it was the least I could do for the birthday girl. How does it feel to be getting old?" His smirk was contagious even if his words were jeering and she bit her lip to temporarily hide the amusement she felt.
"You'd know all about getting old, wouldn't you?" She shot back even if the offense at being called 'old' was feigned.
"I'm hurt, Thompson," he said, placing his right hand over his heart in mock injury. Obviously, the age difference had been noted, even if it was never explicitly commented on, but it didn't seem to matter much.
"Wounded, I'm sure," was her sarcastic response as she sipped casually on the beer he'd graciously bought for her.
"We properly celebrating tonight? None of this two beer maximum for once?" He asked, leaning closer to her in challenge, wondering if she'd refuse. It was a fair question, admittedly, and it was her birthday after all. However, a voice in the back of Ana's head warned that she had set that limit for a reason. That she knew exactly how bad things could get, exactly how bad she could make them get, if she wasn't careful.
"Come on. Live a little, teach," he whispered, still pressing into her space and nudging her thigh with his knee. Hopper left his offending appendage there and that, the lingering contact, was all it took for her resolve to crumble like a paper doll.
"Fine, but remember, this is what you asked for." She chugged the first beer with a speed that impressed the chief enough to offer her a 'whoop' as praise. She set the now empty glass down on the bar top, a look of distaste gracing her features, while Hopper ordered a round of shots.
Ana immediately knew she was in for it. Liquor made her...feisty? Contemptuous might have been the more appropriate word, but she'd tried to warn him.
"So, tell me, what was it like seeing Buddy Holly live in concert?" She'd had several stand-alone drinks and even more shots by that point. No longer was Ana even attempting to squash her impulsive need to be a smartass, and, even worse, she was starting to get handsy. That probably explained why her left hand was now resting on Hopper's right thigh, just a bit too high up to be considered either appropriate or merely friendly.
"You've got a real smart mouth on you, you know that?" Hopper countered while placing his right hand on the back of her chair, effectively caging her between the counter and himself, her shoulder gently grazing his forearm.
"Oh, my mouth can do plenty of things other than being smart," she implied, their eyes searing into one another's. The air between them turned thick with her innuendo. It would take the slightest of leans and their lips would connect. Ana was sure his would taste of cigarettes and whiskey, and dammit if she wasn't craving the taste.
But, she still wasn't brave enough to tread into those dark waters yet. So, she pulled back, finding solace in her drink, behaving as if the tense moment between them had never come to pass.
Before long, however, it was 2:00 AM and the pair were ordered to vacate the premise at closing time. No other customers were around as they walked out into the parking lot. It seemed all the responsible citizens of Hawkins had long since returned to their homes.
Hopper's arm was slung loosely over her shoulders while Ana's was wrapped tightly around his waist, trying to maintain some sense of balance while on her unsteady feet. He was warm in contrast to the crisp night air, and her head was spinning, which was probably why she leaned into his side despite herself.
"You finally coming home with me tonight, or what?" His question wasn't out of line, they were both drunk and had been openly flirting all night. However, the moment it was spoken into reality, the spell was broken, shattering at her feet like a fractured mirror.
Ana pushed away from him roughly at the simple suggestion. "Is that all this is to you? Just a game of waiting me out? That's really shitty, you know. I am more than just another warm body for the night or another notch on your bedpost, in case you hadn't noticed."
She'd done such a quick 180 and stormed away from him then that her long black hair whipped around behind her and smacked Jim in the chest.
"I know that. Jesus, Ana, I know that," he called after her desperately, trailing closely behind. And, in an effort to stop her from stomping away from him, Hopper grabbed her arm, which she roughly shrugged off with a, 'whatever.'
What the fuck was she doing? Honestly, Ana had no decent answer to that question. Did she want Hopper? The answer was an emphatic, yes. Yet, here she was making a downright scene at just the mere mention of the thing they were both aching for. Good thing no one else was around to witness it.
"Where are you even going? Ana, you can't drive home like this," he tried to reason while jogging down the street after her in an attempt to keep up. She may have been nearly a foot shorter than him, but the length of her purposeful strides managed to rival his own.
"I'll have Benny drive me home. Hell, maybe I'll even blow him for his trouble." She was just being obstinate for the sake of being obstinate now, and she knew it. "At least he's been a decent enough guy not to try and solicit anything from me." Even drunk off her ass, Ana couldn't simplify her words enough to say, 'he hasn't tried to fuck me, unlike you.'
But, why the fuck would she even say that at all? Tomorrow, she'd be ashamed of the level of outlandishness she was exhibiting. For tonight, though, she was drunk, angry, and, most importantly, insecure. And, there was no stopping this particular train from fully falling off the tracks.
There was something about sentiment. Something about avoiding it entirely, that made Hopper acknowledging the possibility of their going home together aloud, what it might amount to, that activated her flight response. If he hadn't shined a spotlight on the situation, made her look at the stark reality of where she was and what she was doing, it likely would have played out differently.
But, he had, and so it hadn't, and now who knew where they'd end up.
Hopper trailed behind her, utterly baffled but silent, until the burger joint came into view. "That's it then?" He attempted one last time, shouting after Ana as her hand reached for the restaurant's door.
She turned, appraised the police chief, standing in the middle of the road, arms outstretched in an obvious show of confusion to match his permanently creased brow. "Yeah, that's it. Now, kindly fuck off."
She'd, once again, chosen to cut off her own nose just to spite her face. For what purpose? That would remain a mystery.
Benny has thankfully still been at work and had kindly obliged in driving her home after closing up shop, but the ride to hers had been filled with a tense silence. She didn't need to say much, he could tell she was pissed just by the look on her face, all furrowed brows, and downturned lips. And Ana had used that quiet time to grapple with what it was she planned on doing next.
Ultimately, her better sense did not prevail, and once they'd arrived at her home, Ana had invited Benny to stay the night. She knew it wasn't the right decision. She knew that even before extending the offer, but she was committed to self-destructing. Everything and everyone else be damned.
While Ana was busy trying to bury her feelings with a physical distraction, Hopper was stumbling into his own home by the lake. Only making it as far as the living room before face planting into his old and torn-up couch, where he would remain until the harsh light of morning.
Sunday, November 6th, ended as a day of misery. And, it was only going to get worse from there because in the darkness on the other side of town, Will Byers had just become the first victim of the strange events that were about to descend upon the city of Hawkins, Indiana like a plague.