A/N: Hello. This is my first published work. I'm looking for constructive criticism.

Chapter 1: Resurfacing

I was sitting in the art studio after school ended working on my first project of senior year, when I heard the door open behind me. I knew it was late, so I assumed it was just Mr. Richards telling me to wrap it up for the night. "I'll be done in a minute, Mr. Richards," I said, starting to put my paints away.

"I'm not Mr. Richards," I heard a new voice say. It was somewhat familiar, but I couldn't place it. I turned around to see a boy about my age who looked familiar. He walked in sat on a stool across the room from me, and looked at me with a curious expression on his face. "You don't recognize me, do you?"

"Troy?" I asked, unsure.

"Yeah," he replied. "It's been awhile."

He had left before we started high school. His entire family had moved away after the whole incident with Eleven breaking his arm. Apparently, his dad was embarrassed about him losing a fight to a girl, and didn't believe that she did it without even touching him.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, worried that he was going to hit me.

"I thought you'd be here. You were always really good at drawing." There was something different about him that I couldn't put my finger on. "My mom and I actually moved back to Hawkins. Turns out my dad was an asshole, and he cheated on my mom. That looks great, by the way," he added, pointing at my painting.

"Why were you looking for me in the first place?" I asked.

He looked at me for a second, then looked away. I could tell he was nervous about something. This was not the arrogant, insulting Troy that I remembered. "I wanted to talk to you. I don't how to say this, but I want to apologize to you. And your friends, but mostly you. I was awful to you all throughout grade school. Once we moved away from this small town, I realized why." He paused here, and I could tell he was just steeling himself to say something else.

"And…" I replied, waiting for him to finish.

He looked at the floor and said, "It's because… I liked you. And I don't mean like a friend, I mean like I had a crush on you."

That was the last thing I expected to hear from him, after everything he did to me and my friends when we were younger. He looked up at me slowly, and I could tell that he was really nervous about saying that. Almost as if he expected me to hit him.

"I know that doesn't excuse my actions. I was truly awful to you and your friends, but I was meanest to you. That's why I wanted to find you first." He paused then, as if waiting for me to say something.

I lost it. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you expect me to tell you. You were a terrible person. You tried to kill my best friend and you almost cut my other friend's teeth out! One little apology isn't going to make up for that. Not to mention all the little things, like pushing us around and calling me faggot all the time." He flinched when I said the word faggot, like I had smacked him, and just like that I realized that we may have more in common than I thought. My anger started to go away, as I realized that he had been going through the same feelings that I had been. We just handled them differently. He looked super dejected, and turned to leave. "Wait," I said, grabbing him by the arm. "What happened in Chicago that made you realize you liked me?"

I could tell he was uncomfortable with the direction this conversation had gone. "I started to look at some of the boys in gym class a little longer than I should have, and one of them didn't like it." He subconsciously rubbed his right arm; the one that Eleven had broken. "He called me a faggot and started beating me up. Two of his friends joined in and they didn't stop until one of the other kids went and grabbed a teacher.

"After I got home, my mom kept asking me why they did it. I kept saying I didn't know, until my dad stormed in. 'No kid of mine is going to be a little fairy!' he yelled, then backhanded me across the face. My mom tried to stop him, but he just shoved her aside and kept hitting me and calling me a faggot."

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I had no idea. You don't have to talk about it anymore if you don't want to."

"No, it's ok. It felt good to talk. Anyway, I'll leave you alone to work on your painting." He turned to walk away.

"Wait. Are you going to be in school here this year?" I asked.

"Yeah," he replied. "I will be starting back on Monday."

"Okay, maybe I'll see you then."

"Yeah, maybe."

[Later that night]

Another lame Friday night hanging out in Mike's basement. Mike and Eleven were sitting in the corner talking about something that happened at Hopper's, Dustin and Max were playing Atari, and Lucas was watching them. I was just sitting in the corner thinking about what happened in the art studio today. I must have had a strange look on my face, because Mike came over to talk.

"What's going on, Will?" he asked, probably thinking it had something to do with the Upside Down. Nothing had happened since the Mind Flayer four years ago, but he was always worried that it might come back.

"Have you heard anything about Troy since he left town?" I asked.

"No, why?"

"He's back in town. He came to see me while I was working on my painting of Chewbacca."

"Did he hurt you at all?" Mike was instantaneously angry. "Because El can break his arm again if we need her to."

"No, nothing like that. He actually wanted to apologize to me. For being an asshole."

"Apologize to YOU? He tried to kill me! He almost cut Dustin's teeth out! I know you were in the Upside Down when that happened, but he owes us more than an apology!" I had only heard Mike this angry once, when someone had been making fun of Eleven. By this time, everyone else was paying attention to our conversation.

"Why are you guys talking about that asshole?" Dustin asked.

"He came back into town to apologize to Will. For calling him names. Never mind that he tried to kill the rest of us, and would have killed me if it weren't for El," Mike replied.

"Guys, he said he wanted to apologize to all of us, but he found me first," I started to argue back.

"Why are you defending him?" Mike asked with an incredulous look on his face.

"I'm not defending what he did. He just seems like he's changed. He was just a kid who had a terrible home life and took it out on us."

"That certainly sounds like you're defending him," Lucas chimed in.

"Who is this Troy guy?" Max asked.

"I'll fill you in later," Lucas replied.

"I bet you will," Dustin snuck in with a snicker.

I ignored Dustin's comment as Max hit him. "I'm just saying, give him a chance to apologize and explain himself."

Mike looked angrier than I'd ever seen him. He just shook his head and stormed upstairs. Eleven shot me a look, then followed him.

"Dude, let her go talk to him. She can calm him down better than the rest of us," Dustin assured me, with a pat on the leg.

"I know, it's just that I wasn't there at the quarry that day, and I sort of feel like I'm letting him down. He's been one of my best friends for as long as I can remember."

"I know. Just let him vent to El. He'll be fine."

"Thanks, Dustin."

A/N: Tell me what you think. I'm not sure how long I want this story to go, but there will definitely be more than one chapter.