Note: That feel when a chapter accidentally becomes 9k+ words. I had intended only 2k words, lmao.
FEBRUARY 11th, 1989 (Wednesday)
Hands-down, the best perk of senior year was lunch. There was something completely badass about the way all the seniors rushed to the parking lot after fourth-period, hopped into their BMWs and Volkswagens, and raced down to Benny's Diner. Sure, lunch was only an hour and the drive to Benny's took up almost a quarter of that time but it beat wasting away in the fucking cafeteria, surrounded by noisy underclassmen and shitty food. And if some of them suddenly decided after their meal that they didn't feel like going back for fifth and sixth-period, well…that was Hawkins' fault for letting them off school grounds in the first place.
Benny's was halfway packed by the time Mike and his friends rolled up, the tiny joint bustling with students moving and in out of the restaurant and its parking lot. Right as Mike turned into a parking spot and switched the ignition off, Carson, who'd been in the passenger seat, hounded on them. "Alright fuckers. Who's buying today?"
Groans and eye-rolls filled the car-space as they began to hustle out of Mike's Mustang. The irony that Carson, who was the most loaded amongst them, was the cheapest little shit was not lost on any of them. "Just spot us again, dipshit." Troy demanded once he stepped out from the backseat.
"You're fucking mental if you think I'm buying two days in a row." Carson snipped. They went out for lunch almost every day and it was tradition for them to take turns buying for the group. The only one who didn't buy as often was Mike, who was almost-automatically exempt since he always drove.
"What's the big deal? It's not like it's a fucking dent to your pocket." Landon added.
"I don't really care if it doesn't dent my wallet. I save my money for chicks, not you dicks." Carson smirked, looking way too proud of himself for that shitty comeback.
"Yeah, well, I know for a fact," Troy stressed that last word as they walked into the diner, a little chime following their entrance. Benny's looked even busier on the inside, with the line to the cashier almost reaching the door and most of the booths occupied. "I ain't buying today."
"And why not, princess?" Landon asked, feeling his fist twitch at the sight of Troy's smug face. True, he wasn't by any means short on cash either, but constantly buying food for these fuckers he called friends took a toll sometimes, especially when they were such goddamn freeloaders who exploited every penny. And he totally bought like three meals last week already, so what fucking gives?
"Did you numb-nuts forget or something? The party's going to be at my house this weekend. I think I deserve a burger for that, or at least some fucking fries." Troy insisted, his smirk oozing in satisfaction as his declaration was met with groans. He turned to the menu wall triumphantly. Maybe he'll get a shake today on top of his usual order of a burger, fries, and a pop just to fuck with whoever was buying.
"Whatever, man." Landon relented, rolling his eyes. It was another rule that whoever's house they were partying at that week was exempt from buying lunch since the price of trashing their house was tribute enough. "Better be a good party this weekend. Last Valentine's Day completely sucked ass."
Carson and Troy burst in laughter at that. "You're only saying that shit because Jennifer Hayes rejected your sad-ass." Carson recalled.
"Fuck her," Landon groaned, still annoyed that she'd bolted out of the room immediately after he had confessed his secret childhood crush to her. "I hear she gives bad head anyways." He grumbled in a sad attempt to salvage his pride. He never did find out why Jennifer had split, his anger and embarrassment blurring the memories of that night altogether.
"Man, you wish she went down on your saggy balls – Oh Jenny, how I've loved you since the fourth grade! Please, just breathe in my face and I'll bust one right now!" Carson imitated Landon, his high-pitched wailing and Troy's obnoxious laughter drawing the attention of many on-lookers. Landon, burning in embarrassment, frogged them both in the arm.
"Ha. Ha. Real funny, fucking dicks." Attempting to change the topic, Landon turned to Mike, who'd been quiet this entire time, staring off to the side. "Yo Mike, maybe you should buy today." Landon suggested.
"Yeah Wheeler, be our sugar mama for once." Troy said as he slapped his arm around Mike, jerking Mike's attention back to his three friends who looked at him expectantly. "What'cha looking at there, froggie? Are those cheerleaders from Charlesville back again?" Troy asked, craning his head over his shoulder to where Mike had been staring off to. To his disappointment, there weren't any hot girls in short, blue cheerleading skirts or anything of that sort.
"Chill, Wich." Mike shrugged off his arm. "Just got lost for a bit, nothing important."
"Well come back to reality and help us deal with this buying shit, Wheeler." Carson demanded, flicking his thumb to stress how close they were to cashier.
Mike just rolled his eyes at Carson, a smirk dangling off his lips as he shoved his hands in his jean pockets. He started to walk backwards towards the direction of their table, reserved for them all the way in the back of the diner. "I sure as hell ain't paying." He said, not offering any explanation. "Just go grab Connor and force him to buy for us if it's that much of a problem." Mike suggested, motioning to one of their friends who were already seated at the big booth, having arrived earlier in a separate car with the rest of their group.
"And just get me a burger today." He called out in an afterthought as he walked away from them, easily ignoring the jeering of his three friends. What he couldn't ignore, or rather couldn't resist doing, was sneak another look over his shoulder at the sight that had caught his attention the moment he'd walked into Benny's.
He had noticed her the second he arrived. Jane Hopper was tucked cozily in a booth far across from his own, sandwiched between Max and the wall as she hugged a milkshake close to her. Mike watched (stared, really) as she alternated between taking large slurps of her drink and throwing her head back in laughter as she chattered on excitedly with her company.
As he slid into his booth, his boys automatically sliding over so he could sit center, Mike almost groaned when he realized his position allowed for a perfect view of her. Was it coincidence or sheer bad luck that tormented him? He couldn't tell.
Surprisingly, this wasn't the first time he'd seen her since that weird bathroom debacle. It wasn't even the second or third time. In fact, he'd lost count of how many times he'd seen her these past few days as she seemed to pop up everywhere – school parking lots, hallways, by his locker. Hell, Mike even saw Jane outside the Principal's office yesterday after they'd called him out of class to accuse him of graffiti – what were the odds that she had the bathroom pass the exact moment he had left Principal Neal's office? It was like the universe intended for their paths to cross. How fucking bizarre.
And each time he saw her, it was always the same thing: He would feel eyes on him and that familiar prickling sensation on the back of his neck, and he just fucking knew that it was her. Lo and behold, when Mike looked up, he would find her, a few feet away, with that same awkward smile and a readily "Hi Mike" fumbling out of her lips. And no matter how many times he dismissed her – giving Jane barely a look of acknowledgement before walking away – she always bounced back, anxious to greet him again the next time. Truthfully, Mike was impressed by her persistence, knowing undoubtingly that his rejections hurt her feelings.
This time, however, was different. As crowds grew larger with every second inching nearer to the height of lunch rush-hour, Mike's eyes never left Jane's table. This time, he was staring at her, completely bewildered by her company – along with Max, Jane sat with three of his former best-friends: Lucas Sinclair, Dustin Henderson, and Will Byers. What a fucking blast from the past.
The only thing that ran through his head was…how the Hell did she know them?
"Alright ladies!" A tray filled with burgers, fries, and an assortment of condiments slammed down in front of him, pulling Mike's attention back to his own table. One look at the way Carson stood gleefully in front of a dismayed-looking Connor, as Troy and Landon happily trailed behind holding cups of pop and shakes, and Mike immediately knew who bought lunch. "Food delivery is finally here, from yours-fucking-truly." Carson said, plopping into the booth. "I even bought you some yellow peppers, Wheeler. You're welcome."
"I'm allergic to peppers." Mike deadpanned as he smeared a generous slop of ketchup onto his burger.
"Yeah, I know. I just wanted to fuck with you." Carson admitted, hollering another laugh as Mike flipped him off.
With everyone digging into their lunches, it wasn't long before Mike forgot about Jane hanging around his old friends. Yeah, it was a shock but what did it matter to him? It wasn't any of his business who she hung around with and he didn't give a fuck about the likes of Lucas Sinclair, whose judgmental and self-righteous attitude had been one of the breaking points in their friendship. It was all in the past, Mike decided, waving his initial surprise away, and Jane Hopper – once she got over her weird fixation over him – would soon fall into his past as well. All in a matter of time.
"Holy shit," Brandon, a kid sitting on Mike's left, mumbled, sounding startled. "Is Jane Hopper coming up to us?"
His rhetorical question prompted most of their group to look up curiously, Mike included, and sure enough, the boys watched, slightly mesmerized, as the brunette beauty timidly approached their table. And despite the sigh of exasperation threatening to escape his lips, Mike couldn't stop himself from trailing his eyes up and down her slim figure. Privately, he admitted that she looked cute in that jean skirt and cream sweater.
Landon, who'd been sitting at the end of the booth, stood up quickly as she approached. "Hey there Hopper, you lost?" he flirted, an easy grin on his face as he appraised her heart-shaped face and brown eyes.
"Hi Landon," Jane greeted, a polite smile appearing on her lips at the sight of her classmate. He was the boy from her English class, she reminded herself, the one caught snoring while they went over Shakespeare's Othello. Remembering her manners that Hopper had ingrained in her, she kindly asked: "How are you doing?"
"Fine, great – better now that you're here." Landon said, ignoring the snorts behind him at his lame-ass come-on. Mike rolled his eyes at how pathetic his friend was being – he was laying it real thick for a weirdo like Jane Hopper. Feeling strangely annoyed, he grabbed a fork and started stabbing his left-over fries, head deliberately tilted down to avoid the inevitable interaction with Jane.
"I'm sorry," ever the interrupter, Troy stood up from his seat too, probably intent on seizing his chance to get at the new girl "but how does a cutie like you know a piece of shit like him?"
A distinctive "What the fuck bro?" was heard from Landon the same time Jane replied, "We met in our English class."
"English class?" Brandon chimed in, obviously excited for a piece of Jane's attention. "Who do you have?"
It took her second to understand his question; he was inquiring about which teacher she has. Even after all these years, she still had trouble grasping the lingo that people used.
"Um…" Mike heard her say, voice full of uncertainty, and he imagined that she was doing that lip-biting thing as she sported her classic look of awkward confusion. "I forgot her name," Jane flushed embarrassingly. Despite being in school for a month, she had trouble remembering her teachers' names – she'd always been better with faces. "I think it started with an F…maybe."
"Franklin?" Brandon asked.
"No, idiot." Landon interjected, annoyed at Brandon's attempt to relate to Jane. "It's Ferguson."
Carson laughed at that. "Why would she be in Franklin's class? You're the only dumbass here who's still stuck in eleventh-grade English courses."
Just as Brandon stood up, intending to throttle Carson's ass, Jane intervened. "I don't think you're stupid." She assured him, her soft sincerity easily melting Brandon's anger away. The boy proceeded to sit back down, a bit dazed as he mumbled a short "Thank you" to her admission. Mike stabbed his fork a little harder at how starstruck Brandon sounded. Fucking loser.
"So, Hopper" Troy began again, wanting to milk the most of this conversation. He had seen the Chief's new daughter around town a few times but never felt that it was the right time to approach her. Imagine his surprise when she showed up to Benny's of all places, looking like a gift waiting to be unraveled. "What made you come to our side of the joint? I saw you earlier, you know, hanging out with Mayfield and those losers."
"Losers?" She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion at the hostility in his voice. "They are not losers. They are my friends." Jane defended.
"Friends?" Troy sneered in that disgusting way that made Mike remember why he hated him so much in middle school. "You? Friends with that?" Troy scoffed in disbelief, like he honestly couldn't wrap his head around that thought. "Why would you be hanging around those faggots? I get that you're new to Hawkins or whatever, but they're all a bunch of fucking queers. Did they pay you to—"
"Troy." Mike interrupted, catching everyone's attention when the threat in his voice immediately ceased Troy's chatter. "Back the fuck off." He demanded, holding Troy's stare until the other boy relented. Although he doesn't associate with his former friends anymore, Mike doesn't tolerate other people bagging on them, especially if it had to do with Will Byer's closeted sexuality. It just wasn't cool in his books to be a homophobic douchebag.
Too invested in putting Troy in his place, Mike failed to notice the dreamy look that fell upon Jane's face as she soaked up his demeanor. Despite how intimidating he looked, a frown weighed on his lips as he glared down Troy, Jane couldn't deny that flutter in her stomach that appeared as soon as Mike lifted his head up.
"Hi Mike," she shyly greeted, breaking the tensed silence that fell over the group of boys. Her words snapped Mike's eyes on her and Jane reveled in the way he took her in.
"Hi." He said flatly. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to see you." Jane replied, her simple honesty catching everyone but Mike off-guard.
Mike rolled his eyes, ignoring the numerous looks of surprise his boys were shooting him. She made every word sound so goddamn intimate, it was exhausting to keep up with. "You shouldn't be here. You should go back to your friends."
"But—
"Woah, woah, woah." Carson jumped in, bewildered to see Mike Wheeler turn down a girl's advances. Sure, Jane Hopper reeked of that boring small-town girl vibe, but she was easy on the eyes. The whole reason he hung around these dicks was to get at girls, not chase them away.
"Why are you being such a dick, Mikey?" Carson probed, slinging an arm over Mike. Grinning sleazily, he made exaggerated movements with his free hand as if to dispel the tension in his friend. "She's just trying to have a good time, right Hopper?" Jane, completely missing the flirty wink Carson sent her, nodded enthusiastically in agreement, grateful that someone was helping her be Mike's friend.
Shrugging Carson off, Mike opened his mouth to tell Jane to fuck off only to be cut off by Landon, who slid his greasy arms over the unsuspecting girl. "Jane," Hyperaware of Mike's glare boring into him, Landon leaned closer to the brunette. He cupped a hand towards her ear as if he was sharing a secret. "Trust me when I say this: don't hang around Mike Wheeler if you're looking for a good time."
Seeing the uncertainty on Jane's face, he quickly elaborated. "That guy," Landon gestured to Mike, who lifted his middle finger in retaliation. "He's a boring piece of shit. Not a good time, whatsoever. If you want, though, maybe we could hang out and—"
"Jesus fucking Christ, Landon—" Mike snapped, pissed off beyond reason that Landon kept making moves on Jane.
Feeling Mike begin to rise from his seat, Carson roughly pushed him back down. "He's abso-fucking-lutely right Hopper." Carson interrupted, his grin reminding Jane of the Cheshire cat from Alice and Wonderland. "Fuck Wheeler. You should get to know us better. We're the definition of a good time. We can show you around, show you how to have fun."
"Fun?" Jane licked her lips unsurely, not quite understanding what he was suggesting. Fun as in when Max showed her new skateboard tricks? Or when Dustin invited her to swim at the quarry – that type of fun?
"Yeah fun." Carson grinned wickedly, knowing that Mike was going to kill him for suggesting this. For some reason, Mike really didn't like this chick and what kind of friend would Carson be if he didn't exploit this tidbit of information? "Like this weekend. Troy here is throwing a party for Valentine's Day. You should come. It's going to be wild."
"And fun?" Jane asked, eyes glinting with intrigue.
"Heaps of fun." He promised.
"Mike will be there?" She asked, weighing her options. Sure, Max had explained that parties "completely sucked ass," reeked of "piss and vomit," and were for people who "had an IQ lower than a fish's IQ" (whatever that means), but the thought of seeing Mike Wheeler again on the weekend was so tempting. She'd been away from him for so long that she was determined to seize any opportunity of interacting with him, even if he always seemed less than pleased to see her.
"Hell yeah, he'll be—"
"What the fuck, Carson?" Mike cut in, the bite in his voice fueled by the way Carson leisurely raised a lone eyebrow at him. "Why are you inviting her? You don't even know her."
"So, I can get to know her, duh." Carson said patronizingly, stealing a fry from Connor who just came back with a second round of food. "Come on Mikey, use your fucking brain for once."
Adamantly ignoring the slew of insults Mike began throwing at him, Carson turned to Troy. "Yo Troy, is it cool if Jane comes to your party?"
Feeling Mike's glower shift from Carson to him, Troy's scowl morphed into a wide smirk. From the way Troy triumphantly glanced at Mike before addressing Carson, as if reveling in Mike's displeasure, it was obvious to everyone (but Jane) that Troy was still pissed at Mike for shutting him down earlier.
"Sounds fucking lit to me, man." Troy said with an easy shrug. He really didn't know what was Mike's deal with the Chief's daughter – she was hot as fuck, in his opinion – but if her presence truly pissed Mike off enough to fuck up Mike's night, then by all means Troy would willingly pick her up and drive her himself to his own goddamn house party.
With those six simple words, Mike's fate was sealed. Barely resisting the urge to slam his head down in frustration, Mike could only watch helplessly as a wide smile broke out on Jane's face, knowing instinctively that he would see her again on Saturday night.
It was going to be a wild Valentine's Day, no doubt about that.
There was an obvious skip to her step as she all but glided back to their booth, Max noticed distastefully. El Hopper looked like she was on cloud-fucking-nine and it was all because of that damn Mike Wheeler. Not for the first time this week, Max cursed herself for letting El out of her sight that fateful Sunday afternoon. Sure, El really needed to pee but was the release of her bladder worth all this heat Max was getting from Chief Hopper for accidentally letting El meet – re-meet – Mike Wheeler? No, it fucking wasn't.
Max shook her head as they all silently watched El set down her third strawberry milkshake (El's sweet tooth never failed to amaze Max), daintily smooth the back of her jean-skirt down, just as Joyce had instructed her to, and slide into the small booth. Fucking Hell, Max dreadfully realized as El began swiping the whip cream off with the end of her straw, El was fucking humming. Humming.
"El." It was the disapproval in Lucas' voice that stopped the girl's happy humming, his tone reminding El of all those times Hopper chastised her for breaking one of his rules. Biding her time, she gingerly licked the corners of her lips for any excess cream before lifting her head to meet Lucas' stare. "What was that?" Lucas immediately jumped on her.
It was silent for a moment before El responded, "I told you I was getting another milkshake."
"No, no." Dustin interrupted, wagging his pointer finger at her. If El thought she could pull that innocent crap and dazzle them with a cute smile, she had another thing coming. "Don't give us that bullshit, El. You were totally macking on Mike, just right now!" He exclaimed, gesturing to the direction of Mike's booth.
Unable to help herself, El sneaked a tiny glance at said-boy, peering under her lashes as she watched him slip his leather jacket on, slide out of the booth, and head for the door, his group of friends trailing loudly behind. El was tempted to wave at him and she might've done so had it not been for the rough tug on her sleeve, courtesy of Max dragging her back to reality.
At the looks on everyone's faces, El managed a weak smile, unable to comprehend how they'd caught her staring at Mike again. In El's opinion, she'd been extra-sneaky this time.
"I'm sorry, but…" El furrowed her eyebrow in confusion "What does 'macking' mean?"
While Max and Dustin simultaneously groaned at her question and dramatically slouched down on their seats, Lucas merely shook his head – another Hopper move, El noticed in amusement – therefore it was up to Will to explain the relevance of word. "Macking is uh," he struggled to find the right definition "It's like you were hitting on him."
"I would never hit Mike." She objected immediately, upset that they would describe her in that way.
"No, no, I didn't mean it like that." Will immediately regretted his words when he caught her frown. El was very sensitive about hurting people so he felt like a dick for insinuating that notion. "What I meant to say was…um…well…m-macking is—
"Oh my god," Fed up with his sputtering, Max straightened up and twisted to face El. "Dude," She grabbed the brunette's hands for emphasis. "You were flirting with him. Hard-core. Dreamy eyes, hair twirling, and all that shit. It was nauseating to watch and frankly speaking, you need to stop or Hopper's going to kill us all. Capiche?" Seeing the confusion appear on El's face, Max quickly fixed her wording. "I mean – do you understand?"
It was only when that familiar look of guilt creeped on El's face – same one as when she'd caught El with Mike in her goddamn bathroom of all places – did Max let go of El's hands, satisfied that El understood.
"I wasn't flirting with him." El pouted. "I just wanted to say hi."
"You shouldn't even be doing that." Lucas told her, crossly. He'd been the first one to object this whole 'Turn-El-Normal-And-Enroll-Her-Into-High-School-To-Hide-Her-In-Plain-Sight' plan. It was all bullshit, bullshit that would surely blow up in their faces or, at the very least, bite them in the asses. "Mike shouldn't even know that you exist."
El frowned and sank further into her seat, her milkshake now tasting stale at the reminder of Lucas' words. Though she knew it was wrong of her to approach Mike – Hopper had drilled in her countless times the severity of their situation (and it seemed he'd done the same with Lucas, who'd always been the most responsible one out of all of them) – El couldn't help herself. There was something about Mike that drew her in. Maybe it was those pretty spots on his face ("Freckles, El. They're called freckles," Max had told her). Or his curly hair. Or his eyes. Whatever it was, it was driving her crazy. El wanted to look at him, talk to him, get to know him, touch him – be surrounded by all things Mike Wheeler. It was crazy. She was crazy.
"Well that plan went to complete shit." Dustin bluntly commented.
Deliberately making a show of pointing to his watch, Dustin pursed his lips mockingly as he checked the time. "Would you look at that? Hmm, 12:45…It's been, like, what…only a fucking month of school? And we already fucked up." Hopper had one condition when he finally relented and enrolled El in school – under no means was she allowed to look, speak to, or even breathe the same air as Mike Wheeler. And they couldn't even follow that.
"Technically, it's been less." Will corrected, blushing when everyone turned to him expectantly. "I mean…El saw him on Sunday, yeah? So, it's been less than a month." He elaborated, resisting the urge to twirl his pointer fingers together. It was a weird habit formed from his social anxiety, one Will was desperately trying to break. The last time he'd been caught doing it, Troy and his brownnoser-slash-lackey James had slammed him into a locker for "acting like such a queer in public," making Will decide he'd much rather break the habit than deal with their bullshit. They were such douchebags.
"Oh great. Even better – less than a month." Dustin rolled his eyes at Will's technicalities. "All thanks to Max." Dustin snidely huffed at the red-head, always one for the blame game.
"What?" Max snarled, her body tensing at the accusation, as if readying for a fight. El always thought Max looked like a wild tiger when she got defensive like this. A pretty, red tiger. "How the fuck is this my fault?"
"Oh, I don't know—" Dustin tapped his chin with a fry he'd stolen from Will's plate. The smaller boy, too interested in Max and Dustin's quarrel, didn't notice. "Maybe because it was your bathroom!"
"For the last time, she needed to pee—
"How convenient for you!" Dustin sneered, his eyes never straying from Max's as he double-dipped in Lucas' ranch (he gingerly ignored Lucas' disgruntled "Dude!"). In his opinion, Max could've easily avoided this problem had she just followed El to the bathroom. Wasn't it a thing for girls to go to the bathroom together?
From the start, Dustin knew El was a goner, having caught her during her first week staring across the quad at Mike. The way she looked at him, all heart eyes and long sighs, made Dustin realize El was going to be completely unreliable in following Hopper's plan. It was only a matter of time before she cracked and sought out his former best friend. That's why Dustin had placed all his faith in Max, knowing the two girls spent 23 of the 24 hours of the day together. He figured Max would be the barrier between El and Mike, had even hoped their friendship would keep El in check if only for a few more months until graduation. But (evidently) Dustin miscalculated.
"—What was I supposed to do? Follow her in there? Fucking flush the toilet, or maybe wipe her ass for her?" Max's face heated up with every word she spat out, making her freckles stand out glaringly.
"You're our zoomer." Dustin pressed, knowing Max valued that title more than she'd care to admit. "You're supposed to be there for us, for El—
"Oh, cry me a fucking river, Henderson—
"Guys!" Lucas yelled over them, sick of their banter. Will and El, who'd been watching the fight like it was an intense ping-pong match, jumped at his interruption. "Both of you, just shut the fuck up! You're not helping at all, if anything you're just drawing unnecessary attention to our table, so zip it!" He did a zipping motion across his lips, making Max roll her eyes at how nerdy he was. Why did she hang around these losers again?
"Okay, I'll shut up if you say you agree with me." Dustin bargained, ignoring the death glare Max instantly shot at him. If there was anything that pissed Max off more than Dustin bagging on her, it was Lucas not taking her side.
Lucas sighed heavily at Dustin's request and contemplated his next words carefully – on the one hand, he'd never hear the end of it if he didn't agree with Dustin, who'd spend hours bitching at him for choosing a girl over their long years of friendship. But, on the other hand, Max'll be pissed beyond belief and that was just terrible on a whole 'nother level.
She was a feisty girl, hotheaded as her hair might suggest, but when she was mad, it was all cold shoulders and silent treatments. And Lucas really didn't want to deal with her icing him out, especially when he planned on inviting her to the drive-in movie theater tomorrow. He was hoping they could make out to the reruns of "A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master." With Valentine's Day creeping up, it was time he got some sugar from his quasi-girlfriend, mostly fuck-buddy.
Feeling Max's anger worsen the longer he took to mull over his decision, Lucas hastily opened his mouth. Sorry Dustin, he mentally apologized, the pussy power is strong in this one. "Look, uh—
Ever the saving grace, Will interrupted. "Dustin, that's not fair." He sounded more like his mother than he'd ever realize. "This isn't Max's fault. It's no one's fault. It was a coincidence that El had met Mike in the bathroom, right El?"
Although El couldn't remember what 'coincidence' meant – it might've been Hopper or Joyce who introduced that word to her; El made a mental note to look it up again later – she nodded in agreement, hoping her friends would stop fighting. Despite knowing that Max and Dustin would be fine – their friendship worked on arguments and mockery – it still gave her anxiety when people fought.
Still pissed, though noticeably deflated from Will's admissions, Max bit out, "You know, if you nerds helped more, we wouldn't be in this situation." Just because they had their stupid AV club activities – how was that shit not disbanded by now – didn't mean that all the responsibilities of keeping El in line fell upon her. That shit just isn't right. Especially since El was a goddamn wild card. "The amount of times El approached Mike this week is ridiculous. Like, I don't even know how Hopper isn't hunting me down right now—he's just barely started to let go of that bathroom fiasco."
As El swirled to place a firm hand on Max's shoulder, her brown eyes serious as she promised Max "I won't let Hopper hurt you," Lucas cried out in surprise, "What? Hopper doesn't know?"
Somehow Hopper had found out about El and Mike meeting each other last Sunday – Lucas had a sinking suspicion that Will had spilled the beans to his mother, who probably tattled to Hopper during one of their "late night smoke hangouts" – and Lucas assumed Hooper knew El was actively pursuing Mike at school ever since. But, apparently not.
Patting El's hand reassuringly, Max shot Lucas a condescending look. "Would I still be alive right now if he knew El's been approaching Wheeler every two hours since Sunday?" She deadpanned.
"El, seriously?" Dustin groaned. Though Max's words sounded like an exaggeration, he wouldn't have been surprised if it wasn't. "Come on, dude. You're really fucking us over right now."
At his words, El winced guiltily. The shame worsened as Will gently reached across the table for her hands. His touch was cool and comforting, reminding her of Joyce, and he had a kind look on his face, one of understanding. "El…" Will began and she felt a lump form in the back of her throat at the sound of his voice. "Look, El. I- We," he corrected himself "We understand that Mike was the one who found you in the woods, but it's- it's really not safe for you to talk to him. He doesn't know about your powers," Will's voice dulled to a whisper, mindful of their setting. He wasn't saying anything she didn't already know, yet she felt the hole in her chest gape a little wider at the reminder of her situation.
"—your past, about you, about any of it. And we can't drag him in this mess." And by 'we,' Will meant El. El cannot drag Mike into this, she read between the lines. "We gotta stick to the plan, listen to what Hopper said – we need you to keep a low-profile, which means staying away from Mike Wheeler. We cannot risk those bad men coming after you, again." He finished, his tone not allowing any room for argument. If Max, Dustin, and Lucas weren't so worried for El, who was silently taking in Will's words, they might've been impressed by fragile Byers sounding so assertive.
"Plus," Dustin quipped, his earlier spite towards Max completely gone as he broke the tensed silence. "Mike's a douchebag now, anyways."
Lucas guffawed at that, his laughter helped crack the tension. "A really, really big douchebag." He added comically, making El's lip tilt a tiny bit upwards.
Still, she was conflicted. And as Max joined in to shit on Mike, adding to Dustin and Lucas' obnoxious chortles, El mused over her thoughts, frustrated she had to sort through her feelings. It was a simpler time back in the laboratory, she compared. People might've controlled her actions, but never her feelings. She felt what she felt; El never had to question if what she was feeling was right or wrong. It wasn't a matter of confliction, but of being true to herself.
But now, El looked at her friends laughing and at Will who stared expectantly but not unkindly at her, it was different. Now, she had people she needed- wanted to think of, wanted to protect. She wasn't Eleven anymore, the girl who needed to be selfish to survive, she was El. El was the girl who had beautiful friends, a new father figure, and a woman who cared for her as much as Mama probably would have.
Forgetting Mike was the logical thing to do, as his presence could and would disrupt the fragile peace she'd obtain for her new family. Mike Wheeler was the promise of an inevitable danger, a boy who everyone was sure would "fuck everything up." And a boy who was apparently a "douchebag," a term she deduced held some bad meaning, given the way her friends were still mocking him.
Yet despite all this, El couldn't find it in herself to relent – to her, Mike Wheeler was good.
Although El didn't know a single thing about him, having only met him once, she knew he was good. El felt it in her bones.
Mike was warmth during that cold, rainy night. He could've easily left her, a shaven-head girl drenched in misery, pain, yet he stayed. And as he wrapped his lanky arms around her shivering body and pressed his wet jacket around her tiny shoulders, he breathed life into her. It had been a magical moment.
Mike's touch made her realize how broken she was, having never experienced anything but the coolness of metal (metal beds, metal chairs, metal, metal, metal) in her entire life, and as her salty tears mixed in with the rain, El felt her brokenness slowly mend with hope. By the time they'd arrived to the police station, where she'd then met Hopper, El felt alive – felt reborn. Like a new person.
Even now, years later, El wasn't sure if Mike saved her or if she'd saved herself, as the memories of that night blurred along with the rest of her past. It didn't matter though, El decided, because at least she was certain of one thing: Mike Wheeler was good.
Feeling her resolve strengthen at her reminiscing, El reached forward and grasped Will's hand. If her hold was too tight, he didn't show it, too surprised by her sudden movements. In the corner of her eyes, she saw her other friends stop their talking.
"I understand…" El paused to find the right words. If it was one thing she hated about herself, it was this: her inability to express herself through words. But Joyce had always reminded her that she will get better at this talking thing – at this life thing and that had been El's silver lining ever since. "I understand…what you are saying, Will. But…" El tried to pour all her heart into her next words, praying that her friends would understand. "I really want to be Mike's friend." El said simply, her words fading out to barely a whisper.
The diner, now at the peak of rush-hour, still bustled noisily, louder than before as high-schoolers poured in and out, balancing their limited time between eating and gossiping, yet the sincerity in El's words overpowered all of that. Her words deafened them – it made the diner's rowdiness become nothing more than background noise – and as El deciphered the shock on all their faces, she felt a hum of satisfaction erupt in her stomach, a good indication that maybe she had communicated successfully. Maybe they had understood her completely, this once.
Will opened and closed his mouth a few times, completely at a loss of words. For some strange reason, he really wished he had his pencils and paper right now, wanting nothing more than to capture that warm innocence on El's face as she spoke of Mike. Her honest words astounded him. She was the definition of genuine, he thought.
When the silence dragged on longer than El was comfortable with, her skin flushing in embarrassment and awkwardness, Will cleared his throat, deciding to speak as their friends were obviously too shell-shock to say anything. It wasn't every day that quiet El Hopper shared her feelings.
Although he felt the weight of her words, Will knew he needed to stand his ground. Hopper was right in his paranoia and suspicion – there was too much at stake to sacrifice their safety over a measly friendship. Too many people were involved, too many people who knew of the dangers lurking around Hawkins waiting to pounce any moment. It wasn't smart to add Mike Wheeler into all this bullshit.
Will might not be friends with the guy anymore, but he still cared for him. And as much as Dustin and Lucas tried to pretend otherwise, Will knew they felt the same. It wasn't safe for Mike to get tangled in El Hopper, a girl who attracted supernatural trouble and death.
It wasn't safe, Will repeated this like a mantra. Fully intending to shut El down, he pushed back the voice in his head that screamed he was going to break El's heart with his next words. Safety, he reminded himself, about to tell El to forget about Mike, it was all about safety. Unfortunately, the words that slipped out of his mouth did not resonate with any of this. "Alright." Will had said instead, his resolve cracking on its own. "How can I help?"
Everyone gaped at the skinny boy, shocked by his response. Even Will blinked in surprise of himself, having not registered his own words until a bright, large smile broke out on El's face. Before he could say anything else, she hastily yanked his hand close to her chest, pulling his body slightly over the table. "Thank you," El mumbled, the soft gratitude in her voice making Will weakly smile.
"So now what?" Max asked once El and Will separated, confused by what just went down. First Byers was adamantly against El's Mike-quest, but then he made a complete 180 flip and now he decided he was somewhat team Mike and El – did that sum it up correctly? "Are we helping El get at Wheeler now? Is that what's happening?"
Though her question was (clearly) meant for Byers, Lucas took control of the conversation. "Hell no," He protested, throwing a pointed look at Will, who threw his hands up in mock-defeat. "We're sticking to the original plan." Lucas demanded predictably, making Max roll her eyes.
Although she didn't particularly care what the party decided to do, long as it kept Hopper off her back, it still annoyed her how uptight Lucas was. He'd always been the most anal about following rules and the set plans, never one to take risks or change shit up. Lucas never strayed from the "safe path," always cautious of shit he couldn't control, and if they hadn't fucked so many times, Max would've been convinced that he was hiding a gigantic stick up his ass underneath those damn khaki pants he wore six days out of the week.
"Only this time," Lucas continued "we've gotta be extra careful. We've gotta up our game. Really keep El off the radar."
"How can we do that if she's already so popular?" Dustin asked. It was one thing to lay low when you're hiding out in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, but it was another thing to try to do so in high school. It's only been a month yet Jane Hopper has dazzled most of Hawkins High with her beauty and charm, even if she just didn't realize it herself.
"I'm sure the hype around her will die down eventually." Lucas insisted. "Things will fizz out in a few more weeks, then she'll be normal like the rest of us. By that time, it'll be easier for her to keep a low-profile. I can go talk to Hopper about this and maybe we can arrange something else for El, something safer." He'd been stewing on these ideas for a while now, sort of like a back-up original plan in case the other one crashed and burned. Safe to say, with Mike Wheeler in the picture, it was heading in that direction and Lucas was determined to stop that. "Maybe she can attend school only a few days a week, I mean, Hopper's the Chief, right? I'm sure he can work out something with the school board and—
"No." El interrupted, stopping Lucas' spiel.
"No?" Lucas repeated, taken aback by the assertion in her voice. Behind him, Max, Will, and Dustin exchanged looks of bewilderment. "What do you mean 'no'?"
"I want to go to a party." She declared "Troy's party. This weekend."
"What?" Lucas protested immediately "Absolutely not—
"Troy– as in Troy Wich?" Dustin cut off Lucas. "You got invited to Troy Wich's Valentine's Day Banger?" He gaped, eyes lighting up, the excitement in his voice unconcealed.
Cade Wich had been a complete menace all throughout '83 and '84, known for his infamous parties that ran on end for nights, filled with nothing but endless alcohol, hard drugs, and hot chicks. He'd been the definition of a Hawkins' legend, worshipped and mourned as such when it came time for his graduation. However, the underclassmen of Hawkins High immediately rejoiced when the following year of '85 brought the arrival of Troy Wich, his younger brother who continued Cade's legacy without question. There were many rumors that flew around – some complaining that Troy didn't live up to his namesake while others swearing on their mother's lives that Troy's bangers surpassed Cade's by a landslide. It was all such high school bullshit, yet Dustin couldn't deny his desire to experience all this shit too.
Of course, that wild fantasy had always been difficult to achieve since Troy Wich fucking hated his guts. And Will's. And Lucas'. And probably Max's by association. If only Dustin hadn't spilled chocolate pudding over Troy's pants in fifth grade (completely by accident, mind you), making the boy look like he shit his pants, then maybe their group could've been partying it up since the start of high school.
"Why would you want to go to that asshole's party?" Max asked, looking disgusted. Troy Wich was one of those fuckboys that hung around her step-brother and smoked out her basement every goddamn weekend. He constantly raided their kitchen (her pop always went missing when Billy had people over, so she'd taken it upon herself to hide that shit) and made passes at her whenever he could. The only thing slightly appealing about him was his loaded trust-fund and even then, he couldn't pay her enough to touch him with a ten-feet pole.
"Mike." El answered plainly, as if that explained everything. Which in her case, Max realized, probably does.
"You want to go, because Mike's going to be there?" Will questioned, deciphering her one-worded responses.
El smiled brightly and nodded her head vigorously, her confirmation making Lucas groan exasperatedly. The moment Will had responded positively to her pleas, she'd decided she was going to this party. She was going to see Mike and nobody, not Lucas or Hopper, was going to stop her.
"You are coming too." El told Will, not caring for his stammers of surprise and shock. When he started protesting, El pinned him a meaningful stare, the determination burning in her veins as she convinced him to come with her to this "banger." "You offered to help. This is helping me." She reminded him, satisfied when he agreed (relented) with a resigned sigh.
"No, no, no! This is fucking crazy!" Lucas exploded, completely bewildered by what is happening. How did it get from 'Help-El-Blend-In-And-Avoid-Mike-At-All-Cost' to 'Help-El-Go-To-A-Party-And-Find-Mike'? "Am I the only one hearing this?" He looked to Dustin and Max for help only to be baffled by their half-hearted shrugs of 'Don't look at me, I don't fucking know.' "El, you can't go to that party. Trust me – it's asking for trouble. And to go just to find Mike? That's literally insane. And risky! Especially if it's just you and Will—
"I think I'm coming too. Wait, actually…nope. Fuck thinking – I'm coming." Dustin interjected, making Lucas sputter in shock. Oppositely, El grinned excitedly and tensely lifted her hand up to give him an awkward hi-five, just as he had taught last year.
"Dude! What the fuck?" Lucas cried in, pissed that another person was enabling the absurdity of this.
"'Dude' what? I'm down to get shit faced this weekend." Dustin said. All this dangerous, 'bad-men's-gonna-catch-us' thriller shit was stressing them out – he noticed how Ms. Byers' fingers shake when she takes a cigarette out of her Camels, saw how Will trembles when the sun sets early, and saw the tension creep on Max and Lucas whenever people approached El in school. They all needed to relax and what better way to do it than get drunk off of free alcohol? That and, there was no way in Hell he was skipping out on one of Troy's legendary parties.
"There's a tequila bottle somewhere with my name on it at Troy's house and I'll be damned if I don't claim it. And I'm sure there could be one for you too, if you want to join us Lucas." Dustin offered.
"Fuck no." Lucas declined immediately. He fucking hated Troy, there was no way Lucas would be caught dead at one of his shitty parties. "I can't believe you're actually agreeing to this shit—
"Alright, what about you Mad Max?" Dustin asked, turning to the redhead. "Want to come?"
Lucas groaned at being interrupted again. "Would you stop fucking cutting me off, you assh—
"Oh come on," Dustin probed when Max noncommittedly shrugged her shoulders, completely ignoring Lucas. "It might be fun. And if it isn't, we can steal as much alcohol as we can and dip – probably come back to someone's house, drink a little more, then call it a night." He coaxed her, knowing that Max would much rather drink in the comfort of one of their basement than party with a bunch of drunken idiots. "Or would you rather stay home with Lucas and listen to him bitch all night about how we shouldn't have gone?"
Leaning back on the booth, Max pursed her lips at that and began to seriously consider Dustin's offer. Much as she hated to admit it, he had a point – she really didn't want to deal with a night full of Lucas complaining. Or, at the very least, she didn't want to be sober when Lucas started bitching. Just having this conservation made alcohol sound appealing. It was only when El turned to her and hit her with that big puppy-dog look (this is probably the same look El uses on Hopper to get her way, Max guessed) did Max finally agree, causing Dustin to cheer.
"You too, Max?" Lucas, however, looked appalled. "I can't believe you."
Max rolled her eyes at how dramatic he was acting. "Just come with us, Stalker." She told him, purposefully using that old nickname to sway him.
"Why should I?" He asked spitefully. The way he crossed his arms stubbornly told El that he was angry and she immediately felt guilty. She didn't mean to make everyone turn against his ideas, especially when he was only being protective. Before El could speak up and apologize, Max responded, "Because if you come, you can help keep a look out on El. Make sure things don't get too crazy. And make sure no one gets too close to her.
"Troy's a little gross freak. I'm sure he's going to try to get at her since she's new meat and all that bullshit. 'Course, El can take care of herself but what if she accidentally uses her powers on him? How are you going to help us cover that shit up if you're not there when it happens? And think about it, Sinclair," she persuaded, pointing to El who blinked curiously "You might stop her from talking to Wheeler today, maybe even tomorrow, but eventually she's going to approach him again, I just know it. So wouldn't you rather be there when she does?" Max saw the wheels begin to turn in Lucas' head, the logic of her words slowly convincing him, so she pressed on. "And from what I can tell, he's not even interested in her – sorry El, but it's true – so all that's going to happen is that she gets the chance to say hi and then we get the chance to chill out and party together. Now doesn't that sound fun for Valentine's Day?" She asked, elbowing Dustin harshly when he tauntingly remarked 'Wow Maxine the lawyer, never expected that.'
It was quiet for a moment as everyone regarded Lucas expectantly, the silence only interrupted when Lucas heaved a long sigh, a good sign in Max's eyes. He chewed on his bottom lip, evidently debating the pros and cons in his head, before scooping his eyes around the booth, taking in the anticipation in Dustin's eyes, the curiosity in Will's, the expectancy in Max's, and finally the hopefulness in El's eyes.
"…We cannot let Hopper know about this," was all he said, finally relenting to this crazy-ass idea. Almost instantaneously, Dustin whooped loudly in excitement, completely oblivious to the look of bewilderment the girls behind him tossed over their shoulders, and Max grinned triumphantly as Will and El breathed identical sighs of relief.
"No, I'm serious guys—" Lucas stressed, anxiously checking around the diner as if the Chief would pop up any second. "If Hopper catches wind of this, I'm dead. Gone, forever. We cannot – like our alibi has to be some crazy shit – cannot let him know, at all. Because if he finds out…" He looked at his friends apprehensively, not daring to even finish his sentence. Call him a pussy all you want, but Lucas Sinclair didn't fuck with the great white shark when he knew he was only a lowly bottom-feeder fish. That was just being smart.
Max might've snorted at his exaggerations but she too has dealt with the Chief's wrath before, so she could only manage a tense nod of understand at her would-be boyfriend. The other two boys merely gulped at the severity of this situation, all risked for the sake of some typical teenage fun. This better be some goddamn party because even when you have nothing to lose, the thought of losing at all was fucking terrifying.
Seeing the nervousness in her friends, El quickly laid a comforting hand on top of Lucas'. She knew that it was a big deal for him to agree to this.
"Hopper won't find out." She promised. "I will be careful." El said softly, the conviction and sincerity in her voice ebbing away Lucas' anxiousness, just as it did with Will. It was astounding how El managed to say so much with so little, making every word sound intimate and honest.
Pretty soon, the tension melted away as the conversation switched to lighter topics. Resuming their meal, Max and Dustin engaged in their never-ending argument of which condiment tasted best on Benny's Bacon Burger Deluxe, while Will and Lucas discussed their after-school options: since AV club didn't meet on Wednesdays, they had time after-school to stop by either the arcade or the comic store. And El, content to just listen in, continued to happily sip her Strawberry milkshake. Of course, with her sweet tooth, it didn't take long for El to decide to buy another one.
"So…" Dustin turned to Lucas once El went to order her food, dragging Will in tow. "Is Saturday actually going to happen? I seriously can't believe you agreed, man."
"Yeah, why not?" Lucas confirmed as he munched on some stale fries, sounding way calmer than before. Looking over his shoulder, Lucas watched Will complain loudly how El spent all of her allowance on milkshakes, making the girl giggle into her hand, before turning back to Dustin. "Long as Hopper doesn't find out, it should be fine." He said.
"Well, what about Mike?" What Dustin was really asking, was what were they going to do if their former best-friend became a legitimate problem.
"What about him? If he's as disinterested as Max makes him out to be, then I don't think we'll have a problem." Lucas assumed, looking to Max who nodded in confirmation. Though it's only been a little over three days, Max had seen that fucker Mike Wheeler reject El more times than she could count on both hands.
On the one hand, it fucking pissed her off how he keeps blowing El off – that little shit walked around, constantly doped up or smoking his little cigarettes, acting like a cliché-typical-manwhore-piece-of-shit yet he had the audacity to reject her angel of a best friend. It was sickening. Yet on the other hand, his disinterest actually relieved Max. Sure, Mike rejected El constantly but he did it in such a subtle way, oftentimes limiting their interactions by a few short sentences, that Max found herself quite impressed. Plus, the less they talked, the less chances Mike had of unraveling Jane Hopper's true identity, and the safer it was for all of them – safe from Hopper's wrath and the bad men's intervention.
"And what if he isn't disinterested?" Dustin probed, wondering how long Mike could resist El's charm. Even Lucas, a suspicious motherfucker who didn't take well to newcomers, cracked a little under a week and had actually apologized to the sweet girl for being such a standoffish asshole. Safe to say, it doesn't take much for people to fall in love with El, despite her being a socially-challenged weirdo. "What if Mike ends up liking El?" Dustin asked seriously, finding himself curious if that were to happen.
Immediately grimacing in disagreement, Max snorted at the absurdity of his suggestion. Wheeler and El? Now that was a crazy idea.
Max couldn't imagine Wheeler ever looking twice at El, let alone be interested in her. He had that whole bad boy thing going on – a crowd of girls, a dope-ass 'Stang, a close-knit circle of fuckboys who dealt drugs as much as they smoked it – and there was no way in Hell a telekinesis girl with a fucked-up childhood could ever fit into his world. They were just too different, Max thought. It was a crazy suggestion.
"If that happens," Max said, deciding to humor Dustin "then she's going to get her heart-broken, I'm sure of it."
"That would never happen." Lucas stated, sounding sure of himself. Max and Dustin might've asked what Lucas was referring to – the prospect of Mike interested in El or the notion that El would be heartbroken over Mike – had they not been taken aback by the sheer confidence in Lucas' words. "Mike Wheeler and El Hopper? Maybe in some alternative, fucked-up universe." Lucas sneered, sounding disgusted by the idea of it all. "But never in this lifetime.
"He's not good enough for her." Lucas declared, the finality in his voice satisfying Dustin's curiosity. "And if he knows what's good for him – he'll stay the fuck away from all of us."
Eventually, El and Will came back with matching milkshakes – the former successfully coercing the latter into getting one – and they all tossed in a few bucks for tip on the table, before making their way out of the diner. And as they all piled into Max's Camaro to head back to Hawkins High, the five friends were so utterly unaware of how this insignificant lunch had drastically shaped a new course for their lives, blissfully believing that this upcoming party would not affect the fragile peace and safety they've recently acquired.
But, boy, how fucking wrong they were.
End-Note: Thank you so much for all of your reviews, favorites, and follows. Your excitement and anticipation gives me the motivation to pull shit like this out of my ass. Mileven for fucking ever. Also, I posted this story on AO3 under the same name.