Mike sighed.
It was the third day of Christmas break, but he still couldn't stop thinking about her. He knew it was (probably) unhealthy, but he didn't care. Here he was, laying atop his bed, staring at his pillow, perhaps hoping that somehow it'd turn into Eleven. He wasn't sure, really. He just wanted to see her. Was that too much to ask? It'd been only eight days since their lips had met on the makeshift dance-floor of the middle school gym, but yet Mike was unable to scratch the itch he oh-so constantly had.
He had seen her literally yesterday, yet somehow he felt like whenever she wasn't with him, a part of him was missing. He took a moment to consider how cringeworthy a thought like that was before promptly sitting up, kicking his legs over the side of his disheveled duvet. He glanced over at his alarm clock, the red numbers blaring '13:49', as if they were trying to insult Mike's loneliness. He huffed quietly, pressing his feet down on the floor, pushing himself upwards. His thoughts wandered for a few seconds as he bent down, lazily changing into something somewhat more presentable to El. He'd never tell anyone that he actually tried to look good for her, obviously. That'd be social suicide. He took a moment to consider that trying to look good for a girl had its downsides, though. He'd already worn all of his best (or at least, what he considered his best) clothes, which left him with only a boring, plain grey sweater and some jeans. 'I bet she'll be real impressed.', he considered for a few moments in a fleeting thought, chuckling quietly to himself shortly thereafter.
He knew he wasn't really supposed to go, obviously. Hopper didn't appreciate 'funny business' between the duo, which included seeing each other alone for - as he had so aptly put it - in his mean, 'police-chief voice' "extended periods". Mike adored how little El understood that comment. Just the thought of her eyes glazing over somewhat when Hopper came to that part of the rules between the two of them made him laugh quietly. As far as he knew, she understood that she liked kissing, and that was essentially where her thoughts on the matter halted. He had figured - no, he had hoped that Hopper would have, at some point during their year together, had 'the talk' with her. Or, at least part of it. But no, Mike had come to realise fairly quickly that that was wishful thinking at best. He figured he'd have to do it himself at some point. He just didn't know when, or how.
Nevertheless, El, of course, wouldn't expect him over. In fact, he'd briefly considered the fact that she might have already had an idea not so dissimilar to his. She had already explained previously where she had acquired the ever-so-famous 'punk' look (which Mike wasn't entirely sure he wanted to say he found quite attractive), having run away from home. She hadn't entirely divulged the rest for whatever reason, however Mike found it mostly irrelevant.
It was something about the eyeshadow, he thought. Or maybe it was the hair - or her lips. He had no idea, really, eventually settling on the idea that he found her attractive no matter what she had decided to do with herself. His thoughts were getting sidetracked again.
He shrugged to himself - a thing which he often did - and stepped outside of his bedroom. Following a brief glance in the mirror (and a coy smile), he slowly walked downstairs, glancing around nonchalantly until arriving at the front door. He looked around once more for a few seconds, seemingly unable to find any sign of life. Not a particularly rare occurrence in the Wheeler house.
"MOM!", he yelled. Despite his voice going slightly hoarse, he felt satisfied that he got his point across to whoever was listening. Just as he finished his perhaps slightly over-the-top yell, two figures walked towards him from his rear and his front.
Shit.
He was flanked. The figure immediately to his twelve o'clock was none other than his father, hobbling over slowly, adjusting his glasses. To his six - as he soon found out - was Nancy. A blank, if not slightly annoyed expression strewn across her face.
"What the hell, Mike? We don't live in a fu - a mansion."
"Languaaage." Ted blurted from the corner, having pre-occupied himself with the toaster before deciding to figure out what Mike wanted.
Nancy simply opted to sigh, grumbling as she not-so-discreetly stomped upstairs with a huff. Mike had no idea what he'd done to annoy her in such a fashion, but he knew she certainly wouldn't be in the mood to answer. Then again, it wasn't like he'd care even if she tried to explain.
Mike flipped around, staring at his father fiddling with the toaster controls, having become blissfully oblivious to the interaction between Mike and his sister. He continued staring at his father fiddling with the controls for a few seconds, amazed at how a man could remain so unaware of his surroundings yet so concentrated on such a boring, menial act.
Mike's father turned to his right slowly, staring at him, his expression entirely neutral. If Mike was honest, he'd have been surprised if his father had heard the yell in the first place - it was more than likely that he'd just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. However, seeing as Mike's mother had seemingly vanished, he decided to pounce on an opportunity to ask one of his parents if he was allowed out.
"Dad."
"Yes, Michael?"
"So, uh, I was thinkin' of heading over to Dustin's place to - uhm, like, play video games or watch TV or something.."
He could feel his face getting hot. He wasn't particularly fond of lying, even to his parents. Even thinking about lying made him think about Eleven. "Friends don't lie", he thought. Why was it that literally everything in his life could be somewhat associated with the girl he so desires? He pondered this for a moment, despite being mid-sentence, opting to finish with "..y'know? Just thought it'd be cool for the both of us to hang out or something."
"Well, Michael, seeing as your mother is out.."
Ted sighed quietly.
"..I suppose it wouldn't be a problem."
Mike almost jumped in excitement. He nodded quickly, turning to face the door. His right leg sprung forward, only for his father to blurt out hastily.
"Back by eleven at the latest, you know the rules."
"Yeah, yeah, I know, I know."
And that was it, out he ran. Ted wondered for a few seconds as to why Mike was so excited to see Dustin of all people, but he quickly shook it off, hobbling back over to the toaster. He grumbled as he noticed that Mike had failed to shut the door as he'd left, but decided that the toaster was a more pressing matter.
