It was all Troy Harrington's fault, to be honest.

That was what Mike kept telling himself on the bus as he clutched his backpack and listened to the hum of the engine. Will was doodling in his sketchbook and glanced up at Mike every now and then. He and his best friend were currently the only people on said bus because it wasn't a school bus, like most people would assume two sixteen-year-old boys would be traveling on. No, this was the bus to Hawkins, Indiana—a small farming town a few hours away from where the boys lived in Chicago. The town where, because of the trouble the two of them had gotten into, they were being shipped out for the summer to stay with an old friend of Karen Wheeler and Joyce Byers. An old friend who was also the Hawkins Chief of Police and it was hoped that staying with him would keep the boys on the straight and narrow for the summer.

Great. I might as well be in juvenile detention for the summer. Thanks, Mom.

He didn't really blame her, though; she'd been having a rough time since the divorce and him getting into trouble like he had didn't help things. The Wheeler family was struggling (him, his mom, and Holly; Nancy was in New York for college) and Ted's checks sometimes helped, but that was when he remembered to send them. He definitely sent more than Lonnie Byers, that was for sure. Which was to say he sent any at all. Those checks were enough to cover groceries and rent but not much else, which was the other reason Mike was annoyed at everything that had happened. He'd finally managed to get a job, only for the trouble to come and him to lose it because 'I don't hire juvenile delinquents, Michael.'

The bus pulled to a stop at a bench in the middle of nowhere and Mike shook Will's shoulder.

"We're here."

"Okay…"

The two boys disembarked and grabbed their suitcases from under the bus before watching it pull away. Unfortunately, nobody was waiting for them at the bus stop… a fact that became painfully obvious once the bus left. Mike groaned and sat down on the bench.

"This summer's off to a great start," he grumbled.

"Maybe he's just running late," Will suggested, sitting down next to him.

As if to answer Will's suggestion, a Blazer came down the road and stopped in front of them. A man wearing a tan uniform and a hat got out and glanced at the boys.

"You must be Mike and Will I'm looking after this summer," he stated, nodding. "Chief Jim Hopper. Get in the car and I'll take you to the farm."

Wordlessly, the boys obeyed. Mike ended up in the backseat when Will called shotgun and his long legs disliked being cooped up like they were back there. The car started to move as Hopper pulled a three-point turn and headed back the way he'd came.

"Your mothers told me all about what happened," he stated. "Gotta say, you kids look like a couple of nerds to me, but appearances can be deceiving."

"You're right; we are nerds," Mike sighed. "This whole thing is so freaking stupid."

"I agree. But you're here now and you're stuck for the summer, so the four of you might as well make the best of it."

From there, it was small, stilted conversation as Hopper drove. All that was visible out the window was fences and farmland—not exactly what four boys from the third-largest city in America were used to seeing. Will counted cows and Mike tapped his foot anxiously. Eventually, they pulled down another dirt road, this one a driveway leading to a white two-story farmhouse. A cat was snoozing on the porch, golden-yellow with orange eyes that opened judgingly as soon as the boys got out of the Blazer and headed for the house.

"Get inside," Hopper instructed, and the two boys obeyed.

The inside of the house was pretty nice, too; exactly what you'd expect a farmhouse to be. Pictures lined the wall and nice furniture sat in the living room, just waiting to be used.

"There's two empty rooms upstairs. Each one has a twin bed, so you figure that out between you. Ignore the one that's a pink nightmare; that's Ellie's room and I'd thank you to stay out of it, even if she invites you in."

She's probably like, ten.

"Thank you for letting us stay here, Mr. Hopper," Will said.

"Just Hopper's fine. Go get settled and feel free to explore the farm. I need to get back to town."

Mike headed upstairs and quickly found one of the rooms Hopper had mentioned. He would be staying in that one; Will would be in the other. The room Mike was in was right next to a door labeled 'El's Room—Keep Out Unless Invited' in bright pink letters. That was what solidified this girl as ten years old in Mike's mind as he headed downstairs and out the door to 'explore the farm', as Hopper had put it. The cat bounded across the yard towards the barn, tail held high as it ran. Suddenly, there was a crash in the barn and Mike found himself sprinting to investigate.

A shelf of feed had fallen over, and a girl with curly brown hair was dusting herself off with her back to Mike. She was almost a foot shorter than him, he noted, and about his age. Then she turned around and he felt his heart stop.

She was easily the prettiest girl he'd ever seen in his life. Curls framed a petite face with big brown eyes and a button nose, and a mouth that appeared to have a smile playing at its corners. She smiled at him and bam! That was it; he had a crush on this girl that he didn't even know the name of yet.

"You must be one of the Chicago boys," she stated plainly, sticking out her hand. "I'm El Hopper."

And there's the catch.

El wasn't a ten-year-old girl. She was a drop-dead gorgeous girl his own age who was untouchable because hello, Police Chief father who's putting up with his ass for the summer.

"Mike Wheeler." He accepted the handshake and felt an electricity running through him as he made contact with her hand. He chose to ignore it for now.

"What an introduction, huh?" She gestured to the feed shelves that had fallen.

"Yeah. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Thanks for asking." She crouched to grab the fallen shelves and Mike moved to help her on instinct. They managed to put it back up before grabbing the sacks and bins of feed to put them back on the shelves.

"If this is what we're doing this summer, I don't think I'll survive," Mike sighed.

"You'll get used to it." She shrugged and started to head out of the barn. "Come on. I have to make dinner and I could use a hand, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind helping."

They went back to the house, the cat following El like she was a mama duck and the cat was a duckling. It was adorable and Mike was happy to follow El the same way into the house, where Will was investigating the TV.

"Hi, I'm Will Byers," he greeted El, sticking out his hand to shake hers.

"El Hopper. Welcome to Hawkins."

"So, here are the ground rules."

Hopper had come home in time to eat dinner with the three teenagers who now lived under his roof and was currently sitting at the head of the table. Mike and Will watched him nervously.

"You have to help El with all her chores, no questions asked. El, that doesn't mean off-loading your chores onto them; the three of you work together. If you have free time, stay out of trouble. You have to be back by midnight every night; no exceptions. Respect will be shown to this house and this family. And our number-one rule in this house is—"

"Don't be stupid," he and El finished in unison.

"Follow all my rules and we won't have a problem."

"Yes, sir," Mike and Will agreed, nodding.

"Good. Now, go to bed; you've got a lot to learn tomorrow."

Mike headed upstairs and changed into his sleep pants and a white shirt after taking a quick shower. It was the first time he'd been in a place so quiet in his life, and the only thing he could hear was the sound of water cascading in the bathroom and the faint sound of El humming. Once that stopped and she entered her room, it was silent except for the crickets chirping and the ever-so-subtle rattle of the air conditioner. There was also the whirring of the ceiling fan and he ended up just watching the blades spin.

He couldn't sleep.

Out of a need to get his thoughts down, he reached into his backpack and pulled out one of five notebooks he'd brought for the summer. All of them were fresh and unwritten, and this one was going to be a summer journal of sorts. The others could be used for campaigns or for his original stories, but this one would be for getting his thoughts out and clearing his head. He'd decided.

June 10

Today, Will and I arrived in Hawkins and we haven't really seen that much except farmland and the Hopper place. Chief Hopper seems like a nice enough guy, I guess, and I think he might be one of the more… relaxed police officers I've ever met. The farm itself is pretty decently-sized (I have no idea) and there's a golden cat named Eggo. Like the waffle. Will seems like he's going to spend his summer taking in the scenery and working on his art when we're not working on the farm for Hopper. He's out in town most of the day and most of the work is done by a couple of hired guys and his daughter, El.

Oh, El.

God, she's pretty. I don't think I've ever seen anybody as pretty as her in my life. I like her curls and her big brown eyes and her voice that sounds so clear like a bell. Honestly, I think I might have a crush on her—which is weird because I just met her. And you're not supposed to develop crushes like that. But it's more than how she looks. She's smart, for one thing, and has a bit of an attitude. Not a bad attitude, but more like… she can hold her ground in an argument and keep up when people start poking fun at each other for no apparent reason.

I think I might like Hawkins, though, if I let it grow on me. And if I can go out into town sometimes. The farm's kind of boring, to be honest. The first work I did on it was helping El clean up bags of feed that fell over when she tried to put some back on the shelf. Hopefully, there will be less tasks like that and more of the letting animals out variety. Hopper told us Eggo knows her way around the farm and that she might try and get underfoot if she doesn't get enough attention, just like her owner. El ended up swatting him on the arm for that comment.

Anyway, I'm just hoping this summer doesn't suck.

Here's to hoping.

—Mike Wheeler.

He closed the notebook and set it on the nightstand, his head feeling less cluttered.

It wasn't his fault that he'd been sent away from Chicago for the summer. No, it was Troy's fault. Troy and his little gang of thugs that had caused Mike and Will to basically get arrested and shipped out. But Mike wouldn't tell a soul why he and Will had ended up in a fight with Troy in the first place because he was a good friend and good friends didn't spill secrets like that. It would be a betrayal of Will's trust and nothing good would ever come of that.

And with that thought, he closed his eyes.

I call this vaguely "Dukes of Hazzard" because of the whole 'pair of boys shipped out to a farm town after getting into trouble and getting up to shenanigans' thing.

That being said, I'm not going to give you the whole story of why they're being shipped out yet. Nah, I'll save that for later.

The rest of the Party is here; they're just not in the story yet.

So long and thanks for all the fish!