AN:
Hello friends. It's been a while but I'm back with something I'll hope you enjoy. I know I usually update quickly when I post multi-chapter stories but unfortunately this time it won't be the case because I'm still working on this one. It may take a few weeks, I usually prefer finishing or being close to finishing before I post but I think I need a little motivation and I hope you'll help me with that.
I have to thank my writing soulmate eliza dollittle for helping me and being the most perfect editor/creative mind I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. This story would not exist as it is without her and I'm super grateful for her and all of her help. If you haven't yet, check out her story The Things That Happen, that I've been helping her with like she helps me! The next chapter is going to be amazing, I can tell all of you that.
Anywhoo, I hope you'll be patient with me. This another future set Mileven that has no correlation to Just Give Me Reason but potentially will be connected to one or two of my one-shots. If you're wanting just smut, sorry, this has a lot of story and plot, but there will definitely be some sexier times ahead. Mike and El are slightly different versions of themselves in a way here, I think El in this story has lost some of her toughness to the insecurities of the real world. Maybe she can find it again.
I hope you'll like it.
"And all this time I have been lying
Oh, lying in secret to myself
I've been putting sorrow on the farthest place on my shelf"
El's fingers clenched the armrests of her seat as the airplane landed, feeling her heart racing as the huge structure bounced along the tarmac. By the time it came to a stop, she was almost hyperventilating, wondering how the hell she was going to survive the flight back to Hawkins after barely managing not to crush every metal can on board with her mind on instinct. She had decided that planes were not fun, despite what her dad and stepmom had said.
The captain's voice came on, mentioning something about staying seated until the seatbelt light went off, but El was still busy unclenching her muscles, not about to go anywhere. She was the only one in her row, thankfully, and after a few deep breaths, she scooted over to the window.
There were dancing heat waves coming off the asphalt and in the distance a few tall palm trees dancing in the breeze on the other side of a faraway fence. California. It wasn't exactly pretty, but it was somewhere completely new and despite her nervousness, she felt a flutter of excitement.
I did it.
She had never expected to find herself here, on the other side of the country, sitting in a metal death trap. Never. But then last fall when her phone had rung, and she had been greeted with the sound of one of her best friends yelling excitedly.
"El!" Max had sounded like she was going to explode. "Lucas justproposedand I hadtocallyou but I'm stillfreakingoutandIcan't—"
"Max, slow down," El had barely been able to understand a word. "He did what and you had to call me?"
"He proposed."
A gasp. "Lucas did?!"
"No, some other guy," Max sassed back, her overwhelming excitement not dimming her spirited nature. "Of course it was Lucas—"
"When?!" El shrieked.
There had been a lot of excited screaming as Max recounted the whole story. He had taken her to the beach in the evening to a blanket setup with candles and a picnic. It had been painfully romantic and Max had almost told him she wanted to go home instead of dealing with the cringey-ness of it, but then he'd whipped out the ring and she'd tackled him to the ground. Max talked a thousand miles an hour and El was a little surprised.
Her friend, her only female friend really, had always been the tomboy. After they'd established their friendship back in high school, El had been the girly one, who was deceptively harmless despite the fact that she was actually scarier than anyone else in Hawkins. Some of it had rubbed off on Max, as she begged her friend to let her practice makeup on her and put braids into her long, straight, red hair.
"So… are you going to wear a dress?"
"Yeah! But like, nothing frilly, we want to get married on the beach by the waves and stuff… Lucas really loves the beach. I always knew he would."
Back in high school, Lucas, on a whim, had applied to Stanford. To no one's surprise except his own, he had been accepted. A California transplant herself, Max had eagerly told her boyfriend that if he moved to Cali, she would be right behind him. He'd since graduated and now worked in Silicon Valley, making big bucks while Max chipped away at her own associate's degree, trying to figure out exactly what she wanted to be.
The redhead spent a lot of her time at skate parks and had actually won several skate and surfing competitions, while working at a skate/surf shop nearby. El had always admired how Max always seemed content with who she was and what she loved, despite not being quite as brainy as her boyfriend. They were solid—though El knew they'd had their share of arguments—and now… they were getting married!
It had made El ponder her own life. She still lived in Hawkins, with her dad and Joyce, who had married after all the kids had graduated from high school. She worked as a part time waitress at the revamped Benny's Diner. One of Benny's old friends had reopened it a few years back, and El had immediately applied for a position, hoping to pay tribute to the first man who had ever showed her kindnes, by working hard and supporting the business he'd loved. While she enjoyed waitressing, her real love was the library, where she also had a part-time job reshelving books and basking in the quiet and tranquility. After her second year working there, El had started dreaming about becoming a librarian—a dream she had shared with precious few people—but wasn't sure she could manage college and getting a degree in library science.
She wasn't sure she could manage anything beyond what she already knew.
Growing up in the lab… it had been her whole world. Hawkins had always felt big enough, the world outside of the small town was too much to handle. No, in Hawkins she knew everyone by name and felt safe and comfortable. There was nothing wrong with wanting to feel safe.
But now she was in California, further than Indianapolis—where they would occasionally drive to for shopping or entertainment—and even further than Chicago. Her brief streak of rebellion in her teens had vanished as the reality of the cold cruelty that lived in the world had made itself known to her. And while she hadn't been afraid to leave everything back then to find the truth of who she was… now she knew. Jane Hopper. El to those who really knew her.
Jane Hopper liked the quiet, calm of an undisturbed library. She liked getting lost in books, and soap operas, and the latest gossip at the diner. She liked knowing what would happen next, her life predictable but easy. It was so much easier than living in fear of who would show up and take her away, or of another interdimensional being trying to destroy her world.
Those days were over. She was safe. She was happy.
Happy.
"Excuse me, Miss?" The flight attendant gently tapped her shoulder. "We're deboarding the plane now, if you'd like to get off."
"Oh, yes. Sorry."
El gathered her things and quickly scurried off of the plane, staring around at the airport in front of her. She'd flown out of Indy but had managed a direct flight to San Jose, which, luckily, was one of the smaller airports in the area. Once you get off the plane find the baggage claim. She repeated Hopper's words in her head. Looking around she found the signs overhead, pointing her in the direction she needed to go.
Max had said Lucas was coming to pick her up at seven-fifteen, and it was just barely seven which meant she had time yet. He will be driving a red sedan and will pick you up outside. El clung to those facts as she found her bag. It took several more minutes to find the way out. When she finally walked into the California sun, there was a honk to her immediate left and she almost jumped a foot in the air in surprise.
Lucas hopped out of the car with his signature wide grin. El felt a wave of relief at seeing a familiar face, quickly replaced by a burst of joy as she rushed along the pavement to wrap her old friend in a solid hug.
"El, hey!" he hugged her back, returning her enthusiasm with the reassuring tightening of his arms. "I'm glad you wanted to come out."
"I couldn't miss it, Lucas. You're my friends." She found herself smiling genuinely. "I would do anything for you and Max."
"We'll never deserve you, El."
He smiled warmly and took her suitcase, loading it into the car with ease and chattering about Max still being at work and how much she'd wanted to be there at her arrival. El nodded, feeling herself relax in the familiar presence of her friend, the tension in her shoulders releasing as she got in the car and they took off.
"So, I'm sure Max told you, but we managed to get a sweet deal at this beachside motel so all of the wedding party and family are able to stay for super cheap," Lucas explained, happily. "It's not… I mean, it's not The Hilton, but there's no bed bugs and the beach is literally on the other side of it, so you can go whenever you want."
"I've never seen the ocean," she said softly.
"It's really beautiful, and huge and so… I can't describe it right. Max was right though, I always thought she was over exaggerating and then we moved here… I love Hawkins but I don't think we're moving back."
"Oh… that makes sense," she agreed slowly.
El turned to look out the window, feeling a pang of sadness.
She missed her friends. The Party. She was the last still left in Hawkins, everyone else's dreams taking them to bigger cities and far away coasts, where her dreams were too, she supposed. Those dreams had come knocking two years ago, in May, during that same summer when everything had fallen apart right in front of her. When the thick envelope had come in the mail, her name written in large, bold letters that had filled her with a mix of anticipatory anxiety and excitement and dread. She'd opened it with shaking hands.
Dear Jane Hopper,
It is with great pleasure that I write to inform you that you have been accepted for admission at the Borough of Manhattan Community College. On behalf of the faculty and staff here, I welcome and congratulate you.
Her eyes had skimmed the letter, spotting the words further near the bottom.
...pleased to say you have received a full scholarship based on your academic achievements and the brilliant application essay you submitted. Please call or return the enclosed envelope to notify us of your upcoming fall plans and to accept your award.
El had stared numbly at the letter, hardly able to believe what she had read. She had filled out that application as a sort of peace offering, half hope half compromise, not expecting it to actually go through. Up until that point, very few things in her life had gone right, and even though she had done pretty well academically back in high school, she still hadn't been convinced she would ever get a scholarship and hated trying, knowing it would only result in rejection. But she'd filled out the paperwork because she'd had encouragement, because she decided it wouldn't hurt to try, because she was starting to wonder if there could be more for her out there. And because he had believed in her and she knew it would make him happy.
It would make Mike happy.
She flinched back to reality, pushing the memory away before it could seep into her lungs and make it hard to breathe. There was too much pain there.
"Did you eat something?" Lucas asked as he switched lanes, glancing over at her.
"No… but I'm not really hungry."
"You sure?"
She winced but nodded. "Yeah. Flying made me feel gross. I really just want to take a shower."
"Something new, huh? Not great?"
"It was… fine."
Her mind was focused on a million other things, but she kept thinking about how nervous she'd been about flying. It had been worse only once before, two years ago, when her dad had walked into her room and told her he'd bought her plane tickets. He'd been so excited for her, getting everything she needed to start the journey, encouraging her and making her think she could do it.
And she'd almost done it… she'd thought about it, agonized about it, lost sleep about it. It had consumed her to the point of anxiety, she couldn't eat or think about anything else because she had to make a decision and he was waiting on her and there wasn't really a reason to say no.
But there had been. She'd been afraid. Terrified, actually. What leaving Hawkins would mean, what abandoning safety would do. There was so much out there, so much that could hurt, and break, and beat her down. So much she could destroy. She had never forgotten Chicago, the initial feeling of freedom and excitement, fading into fear as she was taught to hide in the shadows. Where she had learned that the world didn't have a place for people like her or Kali.
No one needed her to save them anymore. Now they needed her to be quiet and mind her manners and not draw attention to her freakish powers. All she wanted was to be normal, live a normal life and do normal happy things. And she had, for years and years, safe in the cradle of Hawkins, where people smiled at her and told her she was a good girl, where there was no more fear of uncertainty or other dimensions.
Hawkins was safe. Hawkins was… home.
So why had it ripped her in half? Why had the decision to stay cost her half of her heart?
"El? Hey, you okay?"
"Hm?"
She swiveled to attention, looking over at Lucas, realizing they were parked in front of a quaint motel. It was white-washed, with sun-bleached red shutters on the windows and navy doors and a neat row of rooms. Cute.
"I'm fine," she shook her head, the realization of how far she'd drifted taking over. "Just… tired."
"Yeah, flying does that to you." He agreed with a sympathetic smile. "You're the last one to get here, everyone's flights came in early, so I think you'll get the last room too. We're going to have kind of a party down the street—" He pointed to the left, to a far away sign that read, Seaside Bar. "In about an hour and a half. Drinks and food, if you're hungry by then. It's going to be awesome to finally have everyone in one place. You could take a nap if you want, and if you don't want to walk some of the guys rented cars, so I'm sure you could hitch a ride."
"Oh… cool," she nodded, then paused. "Everyone is going?"
"Yup. My entire psycho family, Max's mom and uh, stepdad, and of course, The Party," he smiled brightly, then seemed to realize why she looked uneasy. "Oh, right. Uhh… yeah. He'll be there too. Sorry… I know Max said you were okay with it but—"
"It's fine," she blurted quickly, not wanting him to feel guilty. This was their week, to get married and celebrate with all the people they loved. All of them. "I was just wondering. Don't worry about it, it's not a big deal."
"You sure?"
"It's fine," she snapped, her true feelings seeping into words. "I told Max it was fine. So, it's fine."
Clearly, it was not fine, but Lucas wisely said nothing, instead getting out of the car to disappear into the motel office. A few minutes later he reappeared with a key that was attached to a huge, fake seahorse. El sat quietly as he moved to the back of the car to get her suitcase. With a heavy sigh she let him help her to her room, number sixteen, and he observed her as she looked around the simple room. Mint colored walls. Cream shag carpet. Wave print bedcover. Decent bathroom.
It looked clean and she nodded in approval before turning to face Lucas again.
"When's the party?"
"Nine. You've got about an hour and a half. You don't have to like, dress up or anything though.
It's just a bar."
"Okay."
On impulse she walked over and hugged him again, needing the bit of comfort, and he softened and patted her back. Lucas had always been one of her protectors, even though she was one of the most dangerous humans in the entire world, and she found herself needing to feel safe again, lost in the foreign situation and sea of uncertainty. After a minute he sighed, needing to leave but feeling bad for abandoning her.
"I'll see you later, alright? Max is really excited to see you. It'll be fun," he assured her.
"Okay," she agreed quietly, slowly releasing him. "Fun."
"Yes, fun. Lots of it. All week. And then a wedding. Which will be even more fun… I hope," he said slowly, brows twitching down.
He seemed… not nervous, but unsure, like he wanted to believe everything was going to be amazing, but also knew he was being too optimistic. El reached for his hand and squeezed it.
"It will be fun," she said firmly.
Lucas seemed to appreciate her words, and shrugged, explaining, "There's just… a lot that could go wrong. You know?" He rubbed his head sheepishly. "I know I'm not supposed to care about all of that but…"
"You do. You always care… it's good, Lucas. But you don't need to worry, okay? If anything goes wrong, you have a maid of honor with mind powers on your side."
He grinned. "Yeah… you're right. Can't get better than that."
She gave him another quick hug, for his sake this time, and then he glanced at his watch. "Shit, I have to go. Thanks, El, I'll see you later," he rushed himself back to the door of her room and she waved after him.
"Bye, Lucas."
The door shut and she flopped onto the queen bed with a sigh, staring up at the dimpled ceiling and trying not to worry. A whole week away from home. She was excited to see Max again, to see her friends and be happy… but she was nervous.
Scared.
Terrified, actually.
When Max had asked her to be maid of honor, she'd of course said yes. How could she say no? She loved her friend and she wanted to be there and help her, she would do anything for her friends and this was no different.
But there was one complication: the best man. Her ex-boyfriend of two years. The love of her pathetic life. The person who'd left her behind.
Mike.
Just thinking his name made her stomach twist up and her lungs shrivel, her entire body panicking. What was she going to do? She hadn't seen him in months… since Christmas, actually, and she'd only managed to do just that. See him. Standing in line at Melvald's, holding several packs of Christmas lights and looking cheerful. She'd hidden behind a display of light-up snowmen, watching as he chatted with Mr. Melvald (who was still alive somehow). Mike had been wearing one of his mother's ugly, knit sweater that looked as warm as his eyes.
He'd looked so… good. Not just attractive—though as much as she hated to think about it, that too—but… happy. Or content at least. Not agonized or pained. Like he didn't lose sleep at night thinking about her.
Like he had moved on.
What had she been expecting? He was the one who had left anyway. First college, then New York City. She had been stupid to think that he would want to stay in Hawkins… but it had been her dream. Well, her other dream. The one that felt more… reachable, more realistic and considerably more safe than dropping everything and moving and trying get three degrees just so she could sort books. That was her… smaller dream, her personal one she kept close to her heart, that she wanted to do for herself. Mike was her everything-dream, the future that had filled her vision since she'd first felt his lips press against hers, a fluttering heartbeat that kept her alive. Being with him, getting an apartment or renting one of those little houses by the park together. Getting lunch at Benny's. Visiting her dad and stepmom. Living in Hawkins, in safety, but together… just being normal. It had always felt like enough.
She'd always wanted to just be normal. Maybe that was a cop-out, wanting a white picket fence and a husband and… maybe even kids? It was what she saw everywhere, at the end of every cul-de-sac, happy families with purpose, growing old together. Was it bad to want that after all the years of isolation as a child, after shutting away a netherworld where everything wanted to hurt and destroy? Why did he ask so much of her? Why did he think they had to have more than that?
Maybe she didn't have any more to offer. In the past she'd lain awake at night wondering if she could be more. The world had been opening its arms to Mike, maybe it would do the same for her. That—and his encouragement and reassuring hugs and shining eyes—had been the reason she'd agreed to fill out the paperwork for that damn scholarship. And he hadn't been the only one excited for her.
Her dad—the only one she had told about her acceptance letter—had supported her too, bought her the plane tickets and a luggage set and helped her pack. And when she'd turned around and dropped her suitcases and told him she couldn't do it, he'd taken her back into the house and hadn't been disappointed. As far as she could tell. But somehow he always seemed a little bit… sad? He would look at her with an unreadable expression as she handed him and Joyce their morning coffees before heading to her shift at the diner. Like he wanted more for her.
But she'd been unable to see it the way he did and so she'd lost both of her dreams in one heartbreaking day. She'd called the college office and annulled her application, rejecting the admission officially and feeling less anxious but more disappointed. That dream was gone, or at the very least, silenced.
Then she had told Mike. And she lost him too.
New York had been some mist-hidden dream, fogged by her fear and self-doubt and worries. A shining idea but a terrifying reality. Sure, her dreams were there, the first steps to what she loved to do, an actual career instead of waiting tables and shushing people from dark corners. The boy she loved with all of her heart was there. She was stupid for not wanting to go, rather craving safety and familiarity instead.
But when it came down to it she couldn't go. She was just too… scared. What would happen if she left everything behind, her home, her family, the one place she'd ever felt she belonged? What if she failed? What if she took the leap and fell flat on her face? She could hear Papa's voice of disappointment, telling her that she was only good for one thing. El didn't think she could handle it, if he ended up being right. New York was too big, too bright, and whatever future that was waiting for her there, too uncertain.
The panic overwhelmed her, her fear of disappointing those she loved never fully leaving her, the fear that had been engrained into her in that lab when she was tossed into a cold room when she failed. It was too much, all at once.
So she stayed where it was safe, where she was comfortable. And she'd thought he would stay with her. But Mike had grown, his time away at college lighting an ambition in him she'd never seen but always felt inside of him. He came home at breaks excited, telling her about his work building computer programs and helping companies make things easier; how good it felt when he finished the code and the screen showed him exactly what had been in his mind.
Mike was smart. A genius, she had always thought, someone with a future that could actually change the world. He had so much unrealized potential that she'd always seen, that she had tried to encourage despite her fear of change. Hawkins had been cruel to him, telling him he was stupid and small and ugly, making him insecure. She'd given him courage and he'd followed that confidence to college, his four years away from her growing that belief that he could be something. And something he became.
Before he had graduated he'd applied to several tech jobs, all over the country, and despite being fresh out of college and pessimistic, one day the phone rang and the next thing she knew he was packing up his entire life into a few boxes and bags. A newer tech company in NYC called NexTech had hired him full time as a programmer. Will had offered to let him crash at his place in the city until he could find himself an apartment. Of course, she always wanted the best for him, but she'd already decided what was best for them and it just… hadn't included him leaving.
He'd outgrown Hawkins. He'd outgrown her.
It had been difficult for her to accept, but it was the truth. He needed to go and spread his metaphorical wings somewhere they would actually fit instead of staying constrained in Hawkins. How could she keep him from that? How would she be able to live with herself, loving him with all of her heart but keeping him from who he could be?
She refused to let her fear hold both of them back, spinning the tale that the scholarship hadn't gone through and that she couldn't go with him. Keeping herself safe from the inevitable failure that plagued her. Of course, she'd known he would still go. There were too many people counting on him out there. But some small, selfish part of her had hoped he would pick her instead and stay.
But he hadn't.
She hadn't let him, turning and walking away when he confessed that New York was what he wanted. Turning away before he saw the tears and running back to the safety that was her home.
So he'd left her behind. Where she belonged, she supposed, but not where he belonged. Whatever was out there for him, she couldn't be upset with him for wanting it, but she was. The years of long distance had placed something between them that she thought his graduation would fix, but it had been too late. He'd grown up without her. And now he was gone.
For the first few months after he'd left, she had been angry, swearing to get over him. But some part of her heart refused to let go. He came back for Christmas that year and El had been desperate to see him. To see if he felt the pull that she did. She'd gone over to the Wheeler's with a plate of cookies and a smile. Her heart missed him more than anything and she'd hoped maybe seeing her again would remind him of that. His parents had been pleased to see her but Mike… was only more distant.
"Oh, wow, El, um… it's nice to see you," he had said politely. "How have you been?"
And then he had stuck his hand out. For a handshake.
She had been so confused. Where was the warm hug and the bright smile and all of the things that had always been a part of him? The reaction he'd always given her for so long. Instead he seemed… uncomfortable. Awkward. Unsure. Like he would have preferred that she hadn't come over at all.
When he'd left, it had broken her heart. But the realization that she didn't know him anymore had completely shattered every part of her. She'd barely made it home, crying so hard she'd almost thrown up, letting her dad carry her to her bed and then letting Joyce cuddle her as she mourned the loss of the first person she'd ever truly loved. The first person to show her unconditional love and caring, even before the warm feelings had come in. He'd always taken care of her, giving her what she'd never had before, and suddenly it was all just gone. She'd been right to turn down the scholarship. He made it clear that they were really, truly over. At least she hadn't sacrificed her home and safety to figure it out.
Her heart never healed. Even now, laying in a half price motel room on a bedcover that probably hadn't been washed in years, the open wound throbbed and pulsed. Sitting up, she sighed heavily and ran a hand through her greasy hair. Ugh, she needed a shower. Maybe she could wash the feeling away. She moved about the room like a zombie, the jet lag setting in, grabbing her toiletries and a towel. Once in the bathroom, she started the shower, keeping the water cool, to help wake her up.
She stepped into the spray, letting the chilly droplets wash away the fog of her mind. But she couldn't keep her thoughts from turning to him, no matter how hard she scrubbed her scalp and lathered the shampoo into her hair, her fingers tugging painfully at the tangled strands. She had always hoped that he would come back to her, come sweeping in and pick her up off her feet and spin her around like he used to. No matter how hard she tried to fight and ignore it and push it away, the undeniable truth still lived in her soul.
She loved Mike.
There would never be someone else that could compare to him.
"El?"
"Hm?"
She had rolled over, sitting up a bit and trying not to hit her head on the underside of the table they were tucked under. They were fifteen and hardly fit into the tiny blanket fort anymore—Mike's legs took up most of the space—but it had stayed up regardless and occasionally they would crawl inside and curl up together. It was quiet and safe and one of her favorite places. Just the two of them.
"Have you ever heard of soulmates?"
She'd heard the phrase before, on one of her soaps, but the true definition was a mystery to her so she had shook her head. His arms had been wrapped around her waist, his breath warm on her forehead as he gazed down at her, eyes sparking with something warm and bright.
"The idea is that everyone has one. They're the one person you're meant to be with, who understands you better than anyone else," he'd explained, cheeks flushing. "Someone that you love. More than anything."
Her breath had hitched, the look in his eyes making her heart rate double. No words left her mouth—she had still struggled with words and it was a moment she'd had none—and he'd quickly stumbled on, his arm squeezing her waist like a reflex.
"Do you… think you believe that?" He'd been nervous, licking his lips. "Or could believe that?"
"Yes." It had been a breath, and then she'd tested the word. "Soulmate."
"Soulmate."
Their eyes had met and then he'd kissed her, so carefully, like he was afraid she would disappear in a puff of a smoke. They'd never really talked about it after that, but she knew he had brought it up for a reason. He didn't teach her new words unless they were something he wanted her to know. She hadn't needed him to explain why.
"Ugh!" She stuck her face under the cold spray of water and closed her eyes, trying to shut out the memory.
It still made her heart race and her breath catch. She grabbed the bar of soap and raked it across her skin, over and over, scowling. It used to be one of her favorite memories, but now it was just painful. She turned the water colder and let it pelt her, not wanting to think about those sentiments they had shared. Not right before she saw him again. She couldn't look at him and remember all of those feelings.
She couldn't let him know she still loved him.
She hated it. She hated that she still loved him. She wanted to just let it go. Let him go.
But their past memories haunted her at every turn. Their first kiss, their first dance, first class together, first date, first makeout, their imperfect first time together in the cabin. Graduation, the hardest first goodbye as he headed to MIT, the first joyful reunion, all of the times they had frantically touched each other when he came home, trying to let the feelings linger as the months kept them apart. All of it played like one of the beloved, overdramatic soap opera storylines in her mind.
And now, in an hour, she was going to have to pretend like it was nothing. She would have to see him, the now stranger she had once loved, and pretend like everything was okay. Her skin was turning red and raw from scrubbing it so hard, her frustration leaving irritated patches all over her body. With a sigh she gave up and set the loofah down, realizing she was just making it worse.
She turned off the shower, and dried herself off. Not ready to face her reflection she left the bathroom and reluctantly opened her suitcase, making an effort to hang her dresses in the closet. Standing in front of the open door, she glared at the array of soft-colored fabric, trying to decide what to wear to the bar. If she had to see him tonight… then she wanted to look good, or at the very least nice. She picked the dress that made her feel most like herself and changed into it. All the while trying to talk herself down.
"It's just food and drinks. You don't have to talk to him," she said out loud, as if speaking the words somehow made them more true. "Lucas's family will be there. That's a lot of people. You won't even see him." She took a deep breath, grabbing her hair dryer and curling iron, and going into the bathroom. "Dustin will be there. And Will. You can hang out with them… it'll be fine."
She fixed her hair, put on some lipstick and mascara, trying to revive her features from the terrified ghost she'd looked like before the shower. It was warm outside, the July temperatures and ocean breeze keeping it comfortable, and she slid on some sandals that went nicely with her soft papaya-colored sundress. Lucas had said she didn't need to get dressed up, but her nerves had decided otherwise and the overall effect still felt casual… but less of a mess than she'd been, hiding the disaster on the inside.
She shoved the garishly large room-key into her purse and set off for the bar. Exiting her room she looked around wearily, the setting sun almost blinding her. It wouldn't be long before it was dark, so she scurried to the sidewalk, following it about two and a half blocks down to the bar Lucas had pointed out earlier.
It was a cute place, tropical-themed, with tiki torches and brightly colored lights strung over the wood plank patio. Lucas's family were already filling half the tables and she tried to walk in unnoticed, looking for someone she knew, hoping to find Max. There was a familiar head of red hair at the walk-up bar and a uncontrollable smile spread across her lips. She hurried over, tapping her friend's shoulder.
Max turned, a huge grin on her face that only got bigger as she realized who it was.
"El!"
Max had never been huge on physical affection, but clearly the whole wedding thing was affecting her brain and she almost tackled the smaller girl over. El laughed affectionately, noticing that the bride-to-be smelled like tequila. Alcohol definitely also had something to do with it.
"Max, woah," El giggled. "How many have you had?"
"Just one margarita!" Max lowered her voice. "They make them really strong here. You should have one. Or two."
"Max…"
A lime colored drink was pushed into her hand and El gave in without protest, figuring a little alcohol might make everything a little less…harsh. And margaritas were usually pretty good.
"I'm so glad you're here, Elle-belle," Max hiccupped. "I'm getting fucking married."
"Yes. You are. Are you happy?"
"Yes! Kind of nervous, I guess, but like… Lucas is so fucking great. I wanna marry the shit out of him."
El laughed, deciding that was a very Max way of putting it. She sucked down her drink, the tequila hitting her empty stomach and giving everything a lovely wooziness almost immediately. Max had been right… they were strong.
A second one somehow made it to her hands as they continued to talk about everything, the plans for the ceremony, the bar crawl for the bachelorette party, Max's job, her latest competition, how fucking crazy all of it was. El munched on my chips and salsa, finishing her second drink and feeling fantastic. The pair talked on the phone often, but it was nothing compared to sitting across a table and laughing together and her heart glowed warmly in her chest as she smiled at her friend. Everything was so fucking great, she was in California with her best friends.
Dustin and Will had appeared when she'd been halfway through her first margarita, but the girls had been planning the bachelorette party at that time, and after hugging and exclaiming how much they missed the boys, they had wisely moved on, promising to rejoin the girls when the conversation had less drunken screams and talk of penis-shaped things.
After the boys left, El found her eyes once again scanning the patio, her heart rate quickening as she reluctantly searched for the familiar mop of dark ebony hair. She let out a breath of relief when she didn't see him, and turned back to her friend, who was watching her with an appraising look.
Max opened her mouth to say something, and El felt like this was the exact moment she absolutely needed some water. Telling her friend she'd "Be back with something other than alcohol", El stood up and moved toward the bar, stumbling a little on her journey. Woah, she was drunker than she'd realized. Water, yes that was exactly what she needed. Dilute the margaritas in her system.
The bartender handed her two large glasses of water, one of which she took a long, satisfying drink from. Water was amazing. Everything about the night was amazing. How was life just so fucking amazing?
She twirled gracelessly, letting the skirt of her dress dance around her legs, ready to prance back to the table. Instead she ran full force into somebody's chest, barely keeping from spilling her water. A hand caught her shoulder, steadying her, and she giggled at her clumsiness, feeling like an idiot but not really caring. She looked up to thank her savior and apologize for being a tipsy mess.
Her eyes met blackened amber, twin stars of darkness, and pale skin with freckles, the very freckles she had spent years memorizing. The oxygen left her lungs as she stared up at the person who still haunted so many of her dreams.
Mike.
"El?"
He looked as surprised as she felt, and she was was fuzzy… everything seemed to be moving except she and Mike. She felt angry, and sad, and frustratingly happy, and something else… but she was drunk. Part of her wanted to throw herself into his arms, another part wanted to burst into tears, but the biggest part was suddenly fiery with rage.
How dare he look at her like that. Like he was worried about her. Like he cared. He wasn't allowed to care about her, or even pretend to. Not after what he did. Not after he'd made it clear how little she meant to him. How dare he.
The anger took precedence and she let herself act on her first impulse, doing the only thing she could think to do in her current situation.
She splashed the contents of both large cups of water right into his face, her lips twisting into a snarl of rage.
And then she dropped the cups and ran.
AN:
I would love to hear your thoughts. A little encouragement would be welcome, the sooner I write more the sooner I'll get you another chapter, only this time from Mike's perspective. Get ready for a wedding and all of the fucking angst you can imagine.
~Wyn