A/N: Sooooo, looks like this is gonna become a multi-chapter story, since literally every other comment I have received thus far has demanded I continue it. And I just happen to be willing enough to oblige you all.
Who knew loudmouth Mike Wheeler would prove to be such a hit?
Wednesday, September 4th, 1985.
'Either I'm in love, or I'm developing serious heart palpitations,' Mike thought to himself as he traversed the wilderness of the crowded hallways of Hawkins High, his heart aflutter with excitement. 'With my luck, it's probably the palpitations.'
The events of the previous day seemed almost like a dream to Mike, or at least the events which occurred from approximately 3:25 to 4:00 PM. Everything that had occurred before that time, including but not limited to arriving to school late on his first day, getting lost three separate times, losing his lunch money, and then graciously donating a pint of blood to the grassy knoll by the parking lot, courtesy of Troy Peyton, was fairly standard. He had no trouble believing any of that had happened, as most of it had happened to him before, and would most likely happen again many times in the future, fairly regularly, in fact.
What Mike still had trouble believing was that he had met the most beautiful girl in the world yesterday, that he had befriended said girl after she had helped him, and that her father – the chief of police – had personally driven him home yesterday. But what he most had trouble believing was that she had kissed him.
That's right. She had kissed him. Not the other way around. A girl had kissed Mike Wheeler, and she hadn't even been drunk.
'And to think, all I had to do was breathlessly explain how I thought she was the prettiest girl in the entire world while being held hostage by her father in the backseat of a police cruiser,' he thought. 'It's a wonder I don't get more action.'
And that was exactly why Mike was so excited as he wove in and out between gossiping girls, boisterous boys, and several couples seemingly making out in the middle of the hallway. Despite the onslaught of classes he had already powered through, and the metric ton of homework he had already been assigned, he kept himself focused on one thing and one thing only: it was time for lunch, and he planned to have it with El.
Mike finally made it into the cafeteria, lunchbox in tow, and immediately set about looking for El. Problem was, he couldn't seem to find her. She wasn't in line to buy food, she didn't appear to be sitting at any of the tables, and there was no way she would have stayed behind to eat lunch in a classroom on only the second day of school, right? Growing increasingly desperate, he noticed some of his fellow students exiting the back of the cafeteria in order to eat on some of the picnic tables outside, and decided he might as well check out there.
"Oh, god, direct sunlight," Mike bemoaned as he stepped outside, immediately squinting as he struggled to look around for El. Try as he might, though, scanning over the many picnic tables and even the bleachers in the distance, he couldn't seem to find any trace of her.
'Holy shit, she really was just an hallucination, wasn't she?' he thought to himself in horror. 'She never really existed at all. It was all in my head! Troy hit me so hard that he knocked something loose and I went off the deep end and imagined I was rescued by a beautiful girl who gave me a ride home in her magical cop car. There's no El, there's never been any El, she's just a figment of my imagination, she never existed and now I'll have to spend the rest of my life wondering what could have – '
' – oh, no, wait, there she is.'
Sitting in the shade of a lone tree halfway between the picnic tables and the bleachers was El in all her simple, unassuming glory, wearing another pair of faded jeans and a plaid, long-sleeved button-down shirt that would have looked tacky on anyone else. Her short brown hair was as curly and unkempt as ever, and there was a smile on her face as her fiery brown eyes scanned the pages of a magazine she held indicating she had not yet noticed Mike.
'Okay, Wheeler, you can do this,' Mike reassured himself as he began walking towards El in what he hoped was a calm and nonchalant manner. 'Be cool. You're just gonna walk up and ask to join her. That's it. No showboating, nothing fancy. Just walk and breathe. Even you can't screw this up.'
So, of course, he had to trip on the very first object his foot came into contact with.
Mike didn't even have time to widen his eyes or cry out before he felt his feet fall out from under him, and the next thing he knew he was lying facedown in the grass for the second time in as many days.
'Well, if this whole high school thing doesn't work out, I can always look forward to a promising career in lawn care.'
He stood back up quickly and, with as much dignity as he could muster (seriously, who the hell just left a banana peel laying around like that?), cleaned some of the grass and dirt off his pants as he did his best to ignore the light laughter of the students who had witnessed his nosedive. Thankfully, El had not been one of them, her nose still buried in Soap Opera Digest.
'Alright, take two,' Mike contemplated as he took a deep breath and tried again. This time, he made it past the picnic tables and all the way to El without incident. El looked up from her magazine as he approached, as though sensing his presence, and he felt his breath catch in his throat as she graced him with a smile so sweet she might as well have coated him in sugar and dipped him in caramel.
'Yup, definitely heart palpitations.'
"Hi, Mike," she said, her smile only growing wider as he came to a stop in front of her.
"Uh, h-hey, El," Mike stammered, his confidence disappearing faster than his sister Nancy had the moment she graduated from high school. "Can I join you?"
El nodded and scooted over slightly, so as to give Mike room under the shady part of the tree.
"Thanks," he said as he sat down beside her, sure to give her at least half a foot of space in case she suddenly came to her senses and realized she was sitting next to Michael 'Frogface' Wheeler and wanted to make a run for it. He was considerate like that. "So, um, how are you?"
"I'm okay," El said with a shrug. "Are you feeling better?"
"Oh, yeah, definitely," Mike answered, suddenly remembering his black eye, broken nose, and the fact that his face must have looked like the least appetizing plate of Hamburger Helper ever served to another human being. "I mean, sure, I'm probably gonna have to kiss my lifelong dream of becoming a male model goodbye, but all of my limbs and organs otherwise appear to be in working condition, and really, what more can a guy like me ask for?"
El laughed, and he smiled.
"You're funny," she said when her giggles ceased.
"Yeah, but looks aren't everything," Mike said with a wink, quickly noticing that El had nothing with her save for the magazine now lying on the grass by her crossed legs. "Did you eat already?"
El shook her head. "I forgot my lunch at home. But it's okay."
"What? Screw that! You can have some of mine," Mike reassured her as he opened his lunchbox to reveal half a dozen cold slices of pizza wrapped in tinfoil and folded so they could all fit. "You like pepperoni?"
"You have pizza?" El asked excitedly, her eyes widening as if the concept of packing pizza for lunch had never even occurred to her.
"Yeah, it's leftover from last night," Mike explained as he began to unravel the tinfoil. "My parents have been fighting a lot recently – like, a lot – which means neither of them ever wants to cook anymore, so my mom usually just orders pizza for dinner. I mean, it sucks that they're fighting and all, but hey…free pizza!"
He pulled out the first slice of pizza and handed it to El, who accepted it with a smile and a small "thanks." For a minute, the two of them just ate pizza together in silence, and Mike marveled at how oddly comfortable it was between them despite the fact they had only known each other for less than a day. Normally, he felt the need to run his mouth almost constantly, as if silence somehow meant he was doing something wrong, but with El…it was different. A good different.
As such, he was surprised when the voice that finally broke the silence turned out not to be his.
"Why were they fighting?" El asked, finishing her first slice of pizza and going for a second.
"What's that?"
"You said your parents were fighting. Why?"
"Oh, I don't know," Mike answered, still chewing on his last bite of crust. "I stopped paying attention to 'why' a long time ago. They've been like this ever since we moved here, which makes sense, I guess, since my dad was really the only one who wanted to move. We used to live in Montauk – you know, in New York? – but then my dad got a new position or something and we had to move here. I don't think my mom really wanted to move. None of us did."
"Why not?" El asked curiously.
"Well, according to my mom, since my dad was only being promoted from 'Assistant to the Regional Manager' to 'Assistant Regional Manager,' it wasn't even that big of a promotion to begin with, so why uproot the entire family if – "
"Not that," El interrupted, shaking her head in clarification. "Why didn't you want to move?"
"Oh." Mike paused. "Because…that's where all my friends were, I guess."
He felt something heavy and hard in his stomach when he thought about his friends back in Montauk. Sure, he still heard from them every now and then (especially Will, who called every Saturday morning just to talk, which Mike deeply appreciated, even if it was only for half an hour or so), but it wasn't the same as actually being there. Since coming to Hawkins, friendship was simply something he didn't get to experience anymore. When he spoke of his friends, it was always in the past tense, as though they were somehow gone…or somehow weren't even his friends anymore.
"You miss them," El stated softly.
"Yeah," Mike admitted quietly. "I guess I do."
'And there I go, ruining everything,' he thought to himself with a sigh. 'All El wanted was to sit down and read her magazine and spend some time outside, but I had to come along and get all depressing. Good lord, no wonder most people just beat me up and move on.'
And so, Mike was surprised when, instead of hitting him or walking away or doing anything like that, El reached over and took his hand in hers, intertwining her fingers with his and then squeezing affectionately. She smiled softly, and Mike could feel his heart flutter as he saw the dim sunlight gleaming in her autumn fire eyes.
"Tell me about them," she said. "Your friends. I want to know."
And just like that, he was off again, mouth running a mile a minute as he did his best to describe his friends as illustratively as possible, and with no shortage of words.
He told her how Will was the heart of the group, the glue that bound them together with his artistry and his kindness, and how he was quiet and sensitive but was also the only one that knew how to get the rest of the Party to shut up once they had gotten into one of their legendary arguments.
He told her how Dustin was by far the most talkative of the Party, the most excitable, and certainly the most enthusiastic, a veritable encyclopedia of scientific facts, swear words, and useless tidbits of information that he nonetheless found so fascinating that he was utterly incapable of not sharing with his friends.
He told her how Lucas was his next-door neighbor and had, for a long time, been the one he turned to the most when he needed help with school or social activity or with dealing with the antics of his family, because, even though Lucas was just as clueless as Mike, he was nonetheless always ready and willing to help out.
He told her how Max was the only girl in the group simply because she never really acted like a girl, constantly challenging (and inevitably outmaneuvering) the boys in everything from arcade games to bike races to arm-wrestling competitions, as though determined to prove she was more of a 'man' than they ever would be.
He told her how they used to gather together in his basement to play Dungeons & Dragons every Sunday evening, how they biked around town to get to school or to the woods or to the arcade, how they won Science Fair after Science Fair year after year, always working together.
He told her everything. He spoke for minutes upon minutes upon minutes, and for the first time in a long time…he felt like the person he was talking to was actually listening. By the time Mike finally stopped talking, they had finished the last of the pizza and half of the lunch period had most certainly passed.
"They sound like good friends," El said with a smile as Mike fought to catch his breath, having evidently forgotten to do so while he was talking.
"Yeah," Mike admitted with a sad smile of his own. "The best."
El was silent for a moment before saying, "You're my first friend."
"You mean, in Hawkins?"
El shook her head. "Not just in Hawkins. Ever."
"Ever?" Mike repeated, eyes widening as he looked at her. "Come on, you had to have had friends back in…uh…wherever you were from."
"Indianapolis," El told him, laughing lightly. "I'm from Indianapolis."
"Oh."
"I lived with Mama," El began, not noticing the eyebrow Mike raised upon hearing her refer to her mother in such a seemingly childish manner. "It was just the two of us. She didn't let me out much. She taught me how to read and how to count, and gave me lots of books so I could teach myself everything else."
"You didn't go to school?" Mike asked, eyebrows raising farther still.
"No," El confirmed. "Mama wouldn't let me. She said it was too dangerous."
"Dangerous how?"
"Germs," El said with a small shrug, as if she wasn't sure she believed it herself. "Mama got sick a lot. And I get nosebleeds."
"I get those, too," Mike said with a sigh. "But usually, it's because someone punched me in the face."
El giggled again, and Mike's heart fluttered.
"One day, Mama got really sick…and didn't get any better," El continued, her eyes now cast down at the ground and her brow furrowed in thought, as though it was difficult for her to remember. "She wouldn't get out of her bed, and she started talking to people who weren't there. Like she was dreaming, but awake. She wouldn't eat or drink, so I called 911 because that's what I thought I was supposed to do, and then they took me away."
"Is she okay?" Mike asked. "Your mom, I mean?"
El shrugged. "She lives with my Aunt Becky now. They said she couldn't take care of me anymore, so they sent me to live here with my dad. He didn't even know I existed. He only knew Mama for a little while and then they never saw each other again."
Considering Chief Hopper's reputation around town as a hopeless womanizer, this didn't sound too surprising to Mike. And the more Mike thought about it, the more the rest of El's story made sense. No wonder she seemed so innocent and pure and kind; she literally had no idea how awful the real world could be. It also explained her somewhat careful speech pattern, her relatively new arrival in Hawkins, and even the general unease she displayed in a school environment. All of these situations – from meeting people, to going to class, to having conversations with someone who wasn't her mother – were new to her.
He was brought out of his thoughts when he suddenly heard El sniffle beside him, and watched as she used one of her sleeves to wipe away some freshly shed tears slowly making their way down her cheeks.
'Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, I made her cry!'
"I'm sorry," she said softly, smiling as though she were trying to play it off. "I don't mean to cry. I just…"
She trailed off.
"You miss her," Mike finished for her, squeezing her hand; they had not let go since she first took his hand in hers.
El nodded.
Mike's next action he did without even thinking, which was good, because if he had actually had time to think about it, he almost certainly would not have had the cojones to actually go through with it. Letting go of El's hand, he instead scooted closer so that their legs were practically right up against each other and snaked his arm around her shoulders in what he hoped was an affectionate and reassuring gesture.
When El sighed and leaned into his embrace, going so far as to rest her head comfortably on his shoulder, Mike just about died.
'Holy hell, she's cuddling with me,' he thought to himself, already sensing the way his heart felt like it was about to burst out of his chest. 'I put my arm around her shoulders and instead of getting slapped or maced or publically castrated, she's cuddling with me. What am I supposed to do now? Do I kiss her? Do I go for first base? What even is first base, anyway? How many bases are there in baseball? Jesus Christ, what base am I at right now?'
"Thank you," El whispered softly, finally pulling Mike out of his own head, her eyes closing as she snuggled into the crook of Mike's shoulder.
"For what?" Mike asked.
"For being my friend," she answered, her eyes still closed. "My first friend."
Mike couldn't help but laugh a little, causing El to open her eyes and look up at him, but refusing to lift her head or move out from within his embrace.
"I should be thanking you," he told her. "I think you're the first person outside of my immediate family who has ever managed to listen to me talk for more than ten seconds without wanting to tear out my vocal chords."
El laughed.
"And besides, if it wasn't for you, I would probably still be bleeding to death by the parking lot right now."
"You already thanked me for that yesterday," El reminded him.
"And I still greatly appreciate it, because otherwise I would not be sitting here right now spending time with you and slowly burning to a crisp in the hot September sun," Mike responded, once again earning a short laugh as his reward. He took a deep breath before speaking again. "You know, at the risk of sounding like a total creep, I've been looking forward to seeing you all day. It's pretty much the only thing that's kept me going today."
El smiled up at him softly, her cheeks growing hot and red, and it took everything in Mike's power not to smile back at her like a deranged marmoset. "Me, too."
And then her eyes were closing and she was leaning up towards him and his hand was tightening on her shoulder and he was leaning down and closing his own eyes and –
'Holy shit, we're totally gonna kiss,' he finally realized. 'She's gonna kiss me and I'm gonna kiss her and it's gonna be a real kiss, not like that super quick kiss she gave me yesterday or the way Holly always tries to kiss me after she's just downed an entire jug of orange juice and she wants to see me suffer. An actual, real, potentially mind-blowing kiss.'
He could practically feel the gentle heat of her lips on his already…
'Nothing could ruin this moment.'
"Hey, Frogface!"
'There we go.'
As if synchronized, Mile and El both opened their eyes and drew back upon hearing the angry voice cut into their moment, both of them looking around just in time to find none other than Troy Peyton marching towards them.
'What, was I Hitler in a previous life or something?!'
"You've got some nerve, Wheeler," Troy snarled as he came to a stop right in front of them, glaring down at Mike incredulously. "Pretty ballsy of you to show your face around here after that ass-kicking I gave you yesterday."
Mike frowned in genuine confusion. "Well, I fucking go to school here, so…"
"You know what I mean!" Troy snapped. He suddenly looked over at El, as if just noticing she was there. "Who the hell are you?"
"Eleanor Hopper," El answered simply, blinking in confusion.
"Hopper?" Troy repeated. "You're the chief's daughter?"
El nodded, still not sure what was going on.
"Your asshole dad tried to bust me yesterday!" Troy said, this time loud enough that it made El flinch in surprise.
"Well, to be fair, you were trying to slash someone's tires," Mike spoke up, standing as he did so. If he was going to get his ass kicked again, he preferred to have it done while he was on his own two feet. "I mean, cause and effect, Troy."
Troy eyed him dangerously. "You getting smart with me, Loudmouth?"
Mike was about to reply with yet another smartass answer when he was suddenly interrupted by El, still sitting beneath him, as she gasped upon finally realizing who Troy was.
"Oh! You're the mouth-breather!"
It took everything within Mike not to burst into laughter.
"The fuck did you say to me?" Troy asked her, now moving threateningly in her direction.
"What, are you dumb and deaf?" Mike cut in, quickly stepping in front of El protectively as she also began to get to her feet. "She called you a mouth-breather. You know, because if I covered your fat mouth for more than thirty seconds you'd suffocate and die because you're too fucking stupid to figure out how to breathe outta your nose like a normal goddamn human being."
A hush fell across the thirty or so students sitting on the nearby picnic tables, all of them evidently having heard what Mike said. Now all of them were watching with apt attention, and Troy was so red he looked like he was about to burst.
"You watch your fucking mouth, Wheeler," he threatened.
"Or what?" Mike exclaimed, trying to ignore the fact that his peers were now watching the argument unfold. "Look at me, asshole! I already look like I spent all night getting fucked in the face by a bowling ball! What are you gonna do, give me another black eye? Knock out another tooth? Real fucking creative!"
"You think I won't?" Troy challenged him.
"No, I don't," Mike stated, suddenly sounding a lot braver than he really was. He remembered what his father had told him years ago, not about laughing and crying, but about confrontation.
"Bullies only pretend to be tough," Ted Wheeler had told his son through a mouthful of savory chicken. "They pick on you because you let them. But if you fight back – if you confront them – they'll back off. Because they're cowards, son, all of them."
Mike had never had the chance to put that philosophy to the test before, but now he did. Now, here, he had a chance to confront Troy in front of people, in front of El, whom he had threatened. And so, he took a visible step forward and looked Troy right in the eye, glaring at him with three years' worth of resentment threatening to boil over all at once, his nerves made of steel, his resolve hardened like never before.
"I think you're too much of a chicken-shit to even touch me," Mike told him, slowly but powerfully, having never been more certain of anything he had ever said in his entire life, and ready for whatever insult Troy might throw his way.
Unfortunately, Troy's response was not to insult Mike but to punch him in his one good eye so hard that it threw the young man off his feet and sent him tumbling back down to the ground.
'Fucking Dad.'
"Mike!" El cried out as she fell to her knees beside him, ignoring the laughing and jeering of the other students watching from the picnic tables. With her help, Mike was able to successfully roll over onto his stomach and then begin to push himself up onto his hands and knees. He could already feel his eye beginning to bruise.
"Maybe that will teach you to keep your goddamn mouth shut," Troy told him, sneering cruelly as he watched Mike lift a hand to cover his bruised eye. His sneer faltered, however, when he heard Mike mumble something he couldn't quite make out.
"What was that, Loudmouth? You got something to say?"
Mike spoke again, a little louder this time, but Troy still couldn't hear it.
"Speak up, shit-stain! I can't hear you!"
"I – asked – why?!" Mike practically shouted, loud enough that it made the surrounding students look up and begin to watch again. He turned to glare at Troy, one hand still covering his newly bruised eye as he spoke again. "Why the fuck do you do this?"
"Why do I do what?"
"Why do you hurt me all the time?" Mike asked, angrily but honestly, slowly getting back up onto his own two feet with El's assistance. "Why do you call me names? Why do you pick on me? Why do you bully me? What did I ever do to deserve this, huh? And don't give me any of that shit about it being my mouth or cuz I'm a nerd or the new kid or whatever. It's bullshit and I know it. So tell me the truth!"
Troy just sneered. "It's cuz you were born, Frogface, you and – "
"I said cut the shit, you greasy fuck!" Mike interrupted him, and the surrounding students 'oohed' and 'aahed' in response like they were watching a live wrestling match. "All this time I thought it was something to do with me, you know? Like, there was something wrong with me. But that's not it, is it, Troy? It's you. I'm not the one who's fucked up…you are!"
Mike had no idea what had gotten into him. It was as if something inside him had just finally snapped, as if Troy punching him and humiliating him in front of El had simply been the final straw, the one that broke the camel's back, and now a lifetime's worth of loneliness and anger and vulgar language were spilling out of him faster than he could even process it.
"So, what's the matter, Troy? Huh?" he went on. "What made you like this? What's your goddamn origin story? Did you get dropped on your head as kid? Lick lead paint off the walls? Go swimming in a vat of mercury?"
"Wheeler, shut your – "
"Did your daddy not hug you enough growing up? Is that it? Or did your creepy uncle hug you a little too much?"
Troy's cheeks burned red as the surrounding students began to laugh and mock, and he knew this time they weren't jeering with him – they were jeering at him. "You leave my uncle out of – "
"Was it both? I'll bet it was both."
"Shut up, Wheeler!"
"No, you shut up!" Mike shouted with such force that El had to fight to keep him from stumbling and falling all over again. "For once – for just once – shut your goddamn mouth and keep walking, Troy. Leave me alone. Leave El alone. Leave all of us alone. You want to be a walking, talking waste of human potential? Fine! Fan-fucking-tastic and fuck-a-doodle-doo! Go ahead, knock yourself out. Just leave us out of it. Okay?"
And with that, Mike finally stopped talking. He stared at Troy, out of breath, challenging him to respond. The other students likewise watched with the anticipation of a crowd waiting for the fireworks to begin, also expecting Troy to fire back with all cylinders. Even El seemed to be holding her breath.
But Troy just stood there in shock. He didn't attack. He didn't retreat. He didn't even speak. He didn't do anything.
Finally, out of patience and out of breath, Mike broke the pregnant pause by taking El's hand in his and leading her back towards the cafeteria. "Come on, El. I feel a nervous breakdown coming on like you would not believe."
He brushed by Troy on his way, waking the bully from his stupor, but still Troy could do nothing but watch as Mike and El walked right by him without a word. The two of them had just reached the doors of the cafeteria and were about to walk inside when El finally turned back around to face Troy one last time and flash him a one-fingered victory salute.
"Mouth-breather!" she shouted.
And then they were inside the cafeteria and Mike just kept walking, pulling El past the other tables and the other students and the glassy-eyed teachers until they were out in the hallways alone, and Mike made a beeline straight for the closest water fountain.
"Mike?" El asked worriedly as the boy practically latched his mouth onto the spigot, gulping down water like it was going out of fashion. "Are you okay?"
When Mike finally shut off the fountain and turned back around to face her, his entire face was drenched in water, hair included, and one of his (blackened) eyes was visibly twitching.
'I can't believe I just fucking did that,' he thought to himself.
"I can't believe I just fucking did that," he also said out loud, running both of his hands thorugh his wet hair, as if trying to rearrange it into a somehow more ridiculous shape than it was already in. "I mean, I really cannot fucking believe I just did what I think I just did. I just told off Troy Peyton. Troy. Peyton. The biggest, meanest son of a bitch in all of Hawkins, the guy who has personally had it out for me since I moved to this goddamn town, the guy who has both figuratively and literally replaced every villainous archetype in my mind with his ugly fucking face. I told him off. Me."
"Mike – "
"I am so dead!" Mike rambled on, now pacing back and forth and wringing his hands and running his mouth a million miles her per hour with no end in sight. "I'm dead. I'm like super dead. I'm dead in like every way known to man, and some known only to animals. Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead. He's gonna fucking kill me. You know that, right? I'm gonna go missing and end up as one of those kids on one of those old milk cartons, but my picture will be all fucked up because of course they'll use a picture of me with my broken nose and my black eyes and my missing teeth, ensuring that I'm never found, but it won't matter if I'm found or not, not really, cuz I'll still be dead either way."
"Mike…!"
"God, I hope my funeral is nice, at least. Hey, if my mom asks, tell her my favorite color is green, I know I've always said it's blue because I thought that was what I was supposed to say for some reason, because what kid doesn't like blue, but it's really green, so if she could work the color into the coffin or the décor or something, that would be great, I'd really appreciate it. And tell my dad…actually, don't bother telling my dad anything, he probably won't even show up unless it's on a weekend. Can we schedule it for a weekend? Who schedules funerals? Can I schedule my own funeral? How does that even work? Can I call ahead of time to schedule my own funeral or is that generally frowned upon in funerary – "
He was finally interrupted by the sensation of El's hands on his face and her lips on his own as she grabbed hold of him and kissed him with everything she had.
No longer pacing, and certainly no longer talking, Mike practically found himself frozen in place as El pressed her lips to his, his eyes widening in shock and wonder and confusion and about fourteen thousand other emotions he had never experienced before but desperately, desperately wanted to experience again. This wasn't like their previous kiss, a quick peck on the lips so fast Mike had barely even registered it had happened at all; this kiss was different. This kiss was more. This kiss was longer, more powerful, more meaningful, somehow, and while it certainly didn't slow Mike's racing heartbeat any, at least now he knew it was pounding in his chest for an entirely different reason.
'I could get used to this,' he thought to himself as he closed his eyes and finally began to kiss her back.
Mike had no idea how long he kissed El – time seemed to stop the moment their lips first touched, and damned if he had paid even the slightest bit of attention to anything else that might have been happening around them – but the ringing of the lunch bell is what finally brought their kiss to an end, startling both of them into pulling apart. A moment later, the hallways were filled with students either entering or leaving the cafeteria, but as far as Mike was concerned, the only person who mattered was still standing right in front of him.
"What, um…what was that for?" he asked her, his cheeks so red that he was beginning to feel lightheaded. El smiled back at him, just as red as he was.
"You were talking too much," El answered, biting her lip shyly.
Mike grinned. "And…?"
"And it always works in my soaps."
"And…?"
"And…" El began, averting her eyes as her cheeks growing redder still, "because I wanted to."
'Come on, Wheeler, this is your big moment, don't blow it! Say something cool!'
"Radical."
'Kill yourself.'
But El just laughed, as she always did when his brain and his mouth weren't working together, and that almost made it worth it.
"We should go to class," she reminded him, gesturing to the other students rushing to and fro.
"Do we have to?" Mike practically whined. "Can't we just stay here and kiss some more?"
"No," El said with another shy smile. "One kiss at a time. You have to earn them."
'Don't sound too desperate, don't sound too desperate, don't sound too desperate…'
"How? How do I earn them? I have to know!"
'Wow. Perfect middle ground. Well done, jackass.'
But El just smiled. "Go to class, Mike. And…I'll see you later?"
And Mike smiled back. "Definitely."
With that, El finally took off, joining her fellow classmates in the hallway as she headed for her locker, desperately hoping to get her things and make it to class on time, turning back only to shout "Bye, Mike!"
"Bye, El!" Mike replied as he watched her curly brown locks disappear into the crowd of students.
Unlike the other students hustling and bustling around him, he remained frozen in place, smiling like an idiot and still coming down from the post-kiss euphoria. The hallways around him grew emptier and emptier, and it wasn't until he was entirely alone that he finally allowed himself a sigh of contentment.
'Maybe high school won't be so bad after all,' he thought to himself.
Of course, that was when the next bell rang, and Mike realized he was late to class. Again.
'Shit.'
A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter as much as you enjoyed the first, because I'll admit it was a tough act to follow. Also, full disclosure: I haven't the faintest idea of how long this story will be, and updates may be sporadic. So…just keep that in mind.
Be sure to tell me what you think in the comments!
