No one ever noticed Mike when he walked through the cafeteria – except Troy or James, and that was never for a good reason. He was used to floating comfortably toward his friends, invisible to the throngs of high schoolers who either didn't know who he was or didn't care to. He liked it that way.

So on Monday when him and El walked hand-in-hand toward their table, the dozens of eyes he could feel boring into them was overwhelming. A noticeable hush fell over each group they passed, and Mike swore he heard someone whisper "Wheeler?" with an air of incredulity more than once.

But he didn't care. He was the one who had reached for El's hand at the doorway, pulling it in close as he lead them forward. It was part of keeping the promise he'd made to himself on the bike ride home after their kiss – to make it so that El never had a reason to doubt his feelings. She'd already waited long enough to find out about them.

Most of all, he wanted her to know that even if it drew undesired attention, he wasn't afraid of what people thought. At all. He would keep her secrets, but he would never hide her away.

Ironically, the only people who didn't throw them strange looks were their friends. Lucas, Will and Dustin had quickly come to expect the handholding, and had almost stopped teasing Mike about it. Almost.

As soon as they settled into their spots, Dustin slid a piece of paper across the table toward Mike. "Important information," he said proudly, eliciting exasperated groans from both Lucas and Will.

El leaned in to Mike's side, glancing over to read aloud. "Halloween extra…" she paused, frowning.

"Extravaganza," he finished for her.

She smiled up at him. "Is it an invitation?"

Dustin nodded. "Jennifer Hayes gave it to me after second period."

"She didn't give it to you," Lucas cut in. "You found it. On the ground."

"Okay, first of all I didn't find it," Dustin replied, "She dropped it when she was walking in front of me, and I very kindly picked it up for her!"

"So? It still doesn't mean she invited you."

"Yes she did! I picked it up and gave it back to her and she said, 'Oh, Dustin, you should come!'" he raised his voice into a high-pitched imitation of Jennifer Hayes, "'Bring your friends – those three you're always with, Will, Lucas, and Mark'." He threw an apologetic glance at Mike. "I know she meant you, Mike – she just thinks your name is Mark."

"All good," Mike offered, only half paying attention. El had moved their intertwined hands up onto her thigh and he was having trouble listening. Don't be a weirdo don't be a weirdo focus focus focus.

"Dustin, I just explained this to you. That doesn't qualify as an invite! You saw the flyer by accident and she felt bad, so she told you to come. It was out of pity."

"Lucas," Will said in a warning tone.

"What? You know I'm right – come on Will, it's Jennifer Hayes. Do you really think she'd ever willingly invite us to one of her parties?"

Jennifer Hayes had been the prettiest girl in their grade since Kindergarten, and she'd inevitably also become the most popular one when they got to high school. They'd all had crushes on her over the years, always with the knowledge that nothing would ever come of it. She ran in a very different circle, one that most definitely didn't include D&D, Star Wars, or the arcade.

"But I think most people in our grade are going," Will said, "And I saw Jennifer's sister handing out flyers, so the seniors will probably all be there, too."

Dustin raised both arms, gesturing at Will. "See?"

"That still doesn't mean she wanted to invite us!" Lucas shouted.

El glanced up at Mike, an expectant look in her eyes. Now would usually be the point where he would interrupt and beg them to stop the bickering, but all he could focus on was her, pressed up against his side, her thumb tracing circles on the top of his hand. Okay now's the time to focus don't be a weirdo come on come on.

He cleared his throat. "When is it?"

"Saturday," Dustin said, grabbing the flyer back from El.

Mike looked around the table. "I think we should go. If most of our grade is going… I mean, why not, right?"

Will nodded in agreement, and Dustin's face broke into his signature cheeky grin. "See? That's what I've been saying. Thank you, Mike."

"But there's – " Lucas said, leaning forward again, but Dustin held up a finger before he could continue.

"Ah, not so fast. The Paladin has spoken."

Lucas paused and after a moment he crossed his arms, scowling. Nothing like Party rules to stop him short.

"On one condition," Mike continued. "No dressing up."

"But it's a Halloween party," El said. "Don't… isn't that when people dress up?"

When none of the boys responded she looked around at them, confused. Then Dustin finally spoke, his voice somber. "She doesn't know about the Great Conspiracy of Halloween '84."

"The great what?"

But her question was again met with silence. Dustin sighed and cracked his knuckles; two key signals that he was about to launch into storytelling mode.

He began to recount in detail Halloween of eighth grade, when the Party showed up to school in matching, hand-stitched Ghostbusters costumes, only to find that the rest of their classmates hadn't dressed up at all. The teasing went on for weeks, and it was enough to make them vow never to dress up for Halloween again, unless it was in Party company only.

"But we can still go – I doubt anyone will be dressed up anyway," Will said.

The rest of them mumbled in agreement. Mike gave El's hand a squeeze. "What do you think?"

She shrugged. "I've never been to a party before."

Dustin laughed. "Well you're in good company, El," he said, folding up the flyer and tucking it into the pocket of his sweater. "Neither have we."

It wasn't enough. Mike saw El every day for the rest of the week – he was always with her at lunch, and most days he found her after the last bell, waiting with her until the Chief picked her up or, if he was lucky, biking her home. On Thursday she came to his house and stayed for dinner, and even though his Mom had a strict rule of no friends over past 9 p.m. on a school night, he'd begged her to let El stay so they could finish watching E.T.

But it still wasn't enough. Not even close. And he was making it very obvious. They were waiting by the garage for the Chief to show up and he was hugging El close, peppering her face with kisses – cheeks, forehead, nose – so relentlessly that it made her laugh.

"Mike," she said, pulling back a little, "My Dad will be here soon."

"I know," he said, his lips brushing against her temple. "Exactly why I have to get all the kisses in now. Limited time equals maximum velocity."

She laughed again and reached her hand up to brush some of the unruly hair from his forehead. "Is this normal?" she asked, a little breathless.

"Is what normal?"

"I don't know, being so… wanting to…" she blushed a little. "Be together? All the time?"

Her hand moved away from his forehead and trailed along the side of his face, under his ear, finally resting at the back of his head. Her fingers grazed gently against his scalp and Mike closed his eyes, relishing in the feeling.

"I have no idea," he told her.

It's not like it was rocket science; when you liked someone, you wanted to be around them. But Mike never thought it would feel like this – like he had to see El, if not constantly, then as much as possible.

Before her, everything in his life had a place, a series of expectations simply fulfilled each day: school, home, friends, the arcade, Benny's, and back again, the order of which being the only thing that changed.

But it was like El had turned the volume up, doused everything in brightness. The need to see her and listen to her voice and hear her laugh was at a constant hum within him. When she wasn't there he could quiet it, but it never went away.

How could he know if it was normal if he'd never heard it described like that before? It was something else, something preternatural, present since that now fateful lunch hour cleanup of the AV room.

El hadn't replied, and a worrying thought occurred to him then. He opened his eyes. "Why? Is it – is this too much?"

"No, no it's not that," she said, shaking her head. "It's the opposite. It's like – like it's never…"

"Enough?"

She smiled in that shy way and lowered her head. "You feel the same way?"

"Definitely."

Mike dipped his head down to meet hers. "But remember what I said about normal?"

El nodded, laughing a little. "It doesn't exist."

He moved closer, so his next words came out in a mumble against her lips. "Exactly."

Then they were kissing, again, and her hands were weaving into his hair and his arms encircled her waist, pulling her closer so that she was on her tiptoes, and Mike was sure time and space had been suspended and there was nothing else, just the two of them.

He liked it that way.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Mike could barely hear Dustin over the loud thud of music blaring from a set of nearby speakers. They'd just arrived at Jennifer Hayes's house – "Fashionably late", as Dustin had demanded – and the party was in full force, the floors vibrating with frequent hurried footsteps.

It took Mike a moment to register what was going on. He craned his neck toward the packed living room, watching as people darted in and out. People dressed up. In costume.

Lucas sighed. "This has got to be a joke."

It wasn't just a few people, either – nearly everyone that passed was in some kind of costume. Most had opted for the classics – witch, ghost, vampire – but Mike saw a few well-done David Bowies and a gang of senior guys all wearing the creepy Michael Myers mask from Halloween.

It was just their luck; showing up to their first-ever party and standing out right away, for all the wrong reasons. They hadn't even stepped fully inside but Mike could tell the house was packed. A humid air wafted from the direction of the living room, where everyone was dancing.

Mike felt a squeeze on his hand and he glanced down beside him at El, who looked just as nervous as she had in the car ride over. She'd reached for his hand in the backseat and hadn't let go of it since.

"We should've listened to you," he told her, trying to lighten the mood a little, but she didn't respond.

They stalled in the doorway, no one making a move to enter. Mike was sure they were all thinking the same thing he was – bail, bail, bail, abort mission. But before they could decide, Jennifer Hayes appeared, jogging down the winding staircase just in front of them. She was dressed in an elaborate angel costume, and Mike instinctively looked at Dustin, whose jaw had all but fallen to the ground. Smooth, Dustin.

Just as she was about to head toward the living room, Jennifer noticed them standing there. Her eyes widened in obvious surprise, and their collective embarrassment was palpable. "Hi!" she said, stopping a few feet in front of Dustin. "Wow, you made it!"

Seeing that Dustin was considerably far away from pulling it together, Mike spoke up. "Yep, wouldn't want to miss it!" Oh good God – Smooth, Wheeler. "Thanks for inviting us, Jennifer."

She smiled, and Mike noticed that she gave El a once-over. He worried for a moment if she knew about the bookcase incident.

"Where are your costumes?" she asked.

They frantically looked at one another then, each of them silently pleading for the other to come up with a good answer. To Mike's surprise, Dustin was the one to brave the task.

"Costumes?" he replied, feigning ignorance. He scoffed a little, looking around. "I mean, costumes are… they're… kind of lame."

What?

It was a tone Mike had never heard Dustin use before – nonchalant, a distinct air of ''I'm too cool for this'. What was going on?

Jennifer looked visibly hurt, and after possibly the most awkward pause in history, Dustin scrambled to recover.

"I – I mean, yours isn't lame! At all! I just mean that, you know, people getting dressed up, we thought that was like an, elementary school thing, I mean when you consider – "

But another girl from their grade, one of Jennifer's best friends, had appeared before them and began pulling her towards the living room. She disappeared before Dustin could finish.

He turned around, his face nearly matching the bright red plush carpet they were standing on. They were all silent except for Lucas, who was keeled over, hands on his knees, laughing uncontrollably.

"You – you told – " he gasped, "The host! The freaking host of the party that her costume was – was lame!" he managed to choke out between fits of laughter.

Dustin looked like he was waiting for someone to dig his grave. "Not one of my finest moments, I'll admit," he mumbled.

Will moved forward then, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Don't sweat it, alright? Let's just go in," he said, glancing back to the rest of the group. "We made it all the way here, so let's just tough it out, even if it's just for an hour. Sound good?"

Will the Wise and his final words.

Mike lead the way, towing El behind him. They filed through a narrow hallway that lead to the kitchen, where they were greeted by another thick crowd. Some kind of drinking game was happening by the long counter at the back of the room. It was being led by the group of senior guys wearing the Halloween masks, which they had pulled up over their heads in order to chug from red cups.

Yep, not our scene – definitely not our scene.

They gathered by the stove, where a girl dressed as Madonna was serving people red punch from a giant glass bowl. Lucas was studying her intently.

"If we don't have costumes, we should at least have a red cup," he said, turning to the rest of them. "Just for a prop."

None of them had really drank before. There was one night this past summer where Lucas's parents had gone out of town and during a sleepover, on a fleeting teenage whim, they'd stolen some of his Dad's beer from the basement fridge. They'd each only made it a few sips before deciding it was gross – mainly because Dustin had gotten ambitious and drank it too quickly, resulting in a mess of bubbles spurting from his nose. They hadn't felt very encouraged after witnessing that.

But they were in serious need of a boost in morale, so everyone agreed, and Lucas nervously approached the girl serving punch. "Can we uh – can we get five, please?" he asked, timid.

The girl gave him a measured look, and after a moment she reached for the ladle resting next to the bowl. "No costume, Sinclair?"

Lucas raised his eyebrows in immediate surprise, and Mike stifled a laugh. It was rare for Lucas to get caught off guard; he always took pride in his calm, collected demeanor.

"Y-you know my name?" Lucas replied, and then Mike heard Dustin snort with laughter.

"Yeah, we're in biology together," the girl replied, clearly unimpressed. She adjusted the mess of pearl necklaces that seemed to be the centerpiece of her costume.

"Oh," was all Lucas said. Mike could see his mind whirring, trying to think of what to say next.

God, they were all hopeless at interacting with members of the opposite sex.

The girl was already filling up the third cup and she kept passing the full ones to Will, who was standing on her other side. One eventually landed in Mike's hand, and he passed it to El. She raised it to her nose.

"You don't have to drink it," he told her. He didn't even want to think about what was in the punch. He followed her lead and took a whiff of it, nearly choking as the pungent sting of alcohol hit the back of his throat. God, how were those senior dudes chugging this stuff?

El didn't reply, and Mike watched as she took a cautious sip. She frowned, smacking her lips together. "It's not that bad."

He was in the middle of trying it himself as she spoke, and he did everything in his power not to spit it out and cough, which was his immediate desire as soon as the too-sweet, alcohol-laden juice hit his lips. If El didn't find it that bad, he wasn't about to admit that it was too strong for him – way too strong.

He just nodded, and El gave him a sly smile. She could definitely tell.

Mike glanced back to find Lucas engaged in conversation – actual, real conversation – with the punch/Madonna girl. Will and Dustin had shifted away from them and were talking to a couple of guys that Mike vaguely recognized from the school's radio station.

He felt El tug on his shirtsleeve, and he turned to her. "You okay?" she asked. He slid closer to her, placing his hand on the small of her back.

"Of course."

It was still early in the night, but for what was probably the millionth time already, Mike admired how beautiful she looked. Granted, she always looked beautiful, but there was something a little different about tonight. She was wearing jeans that looked a little newer than her usual faded pairs, and a fitted black t-shirt with a long white cardigan, both items Mike had never seen on her before. She'd pinned her curls back on one side, so there was nothing obscuring her face when she smiled – that was the best part.

He leaned down toward her ear. "You look so beautiful," he said quietly. She blushed, and Mike couldn't help but grin.

Cheers erupted from the nearby counter where the drinking game was going on, and people continued to file into the kitchen. A girl dressed as a French painter, beret and all, squeezed through the cluster of people just in front of Mike and El, making a beeline for the fridge. She reached for the door handle before noticing them standing there, and Mike saw that she was frowning at El.

Oh no.

"Hey, you're in my art class. Jane, right?"

Art class?

El looked nervous at first, but recognition slowly dawned on her. "Oh – um, yeah, I am. It's… you're…" she trailed off.

"Susannah," the girl replied, smiling.

"Right," El replied, "Sorry."

The girl shrugged, fiddling with the paintbrushes tucked into a black apron at the front of her costume. "No worries. You did that really good still life, right? The one of – what was it, again?"

"A bike," El mumbled. She glanced shyly at Mike, her blush deepening.

Oh.

"Right!" the girl exclaimed. "That was like – so good."

El's eyes were alight with excitement. "You think?"

"Um, yeah, I do," Susannah said, laughing. "Mr. Stephens said it was the best one he's seen since he started teaching."

What?

Mike had never heard anything about this. Judging by the sketches she'd left on her paper cranes, he knew El was talented at drawing. But he had no idea she was taking art or that she'd been praised by Mr. Stephens, who was a hard marker, notorious at Hawkins for his harsh in-class critiquing sessions.

Susannah moved into the corner next to El, and the two of them were quickly off in conversation, talking animatedly about an upcoming painting assignment.

Mike shuffled his way back over to Will and Dustin, who were still talking to the two guys from the school radio. Lucas was nowhere to be seen, and before he could ask, Dustin leaned over to fill him in. "He disappeared with that Madonna girl," he said in a hushed voice. Oh. A least one of them was redeeming themselves from the no-costume blunder.

Mike stood there, comfortably listening to the conversation, which was focused on complaining about people who left messes in the AV room. After a few minutes, he felt El's hand on his arm.

"Susannah's going to show me where the bathroom is," she told him, gesturing back to where they'd been standing. He noticed her cup of punch had been refilled.

"Okay," Mike said, uneasy at the thought of losing sight of her. He knew it was silly, but after seeing how nervous she'd been when they arrived, he was worried about her. "Are you sure? I can bring you."

She shook her head. "I'll be fine," she said, turning to follow Susannah.

Mike watched the two of them leave the room. Will was beside him, doing the same. "Did you know that El was taking art?" he asked.

Will nodded. "She's shown me some of her drawings. She's really good."

"What?"

"Is that so surprising?" Will said, laughing.

"No, but I mean…" Why hasn't she shown me any? Mike thought, leaving that part out. Will was also very talented at drawing – he always had been, even when they were kids. So it wasn't surprising, really, that El would have shared some of her work with him. Mike wasn't jealous, exactly – if anything, he felt left out, as childish as it seemed. He wanted to be the person El shared everything with. He wanted to know everything there was to know about her, be able to revel in the things she loved, even if he didn't understand them.

"Mr. Stephens said one of her drawings was the best he'd ever seen," he said.

Will nodded, smiling. "The one of the bike?"

Again, Mike couldn't mask his disbelief. "You've seen it?"

"Mike," Will said, which really meant, Don't be an idiot. "You're not her only friend, you know."

The crowd in the kitchen grew ever thicker, and after a while, Mike could no longer get a clear view of the doorway to see if El had come back.

He was actually enjoying himself, becoming enmeshed in conversation as Will poured him another cup of punch. But he was careful not to lose track of time, and as the minutes passed, he grew worried about El. He guessed she'd been gone for about half an hour and even though she was probably fine, the crowded doorway put his nerves on edge.

He nudged Will's arm. "I'm going to go find El," he said, "If I'm not back in half an hour, assume I've been swallowed up by the crowd and come and save me."

Will just nodded. "Sure thing."

Mike hurried past the group of seniors still facilitating the drinking game he'd now defined in his head as Chug-Cheer-Chug. That was all they appeared to be doing, so it seemed fitting.

Getting through the narrow hallway was nearly impossible; the living room was at full capacity, and people had spilled out into the surrounding areas.

"Jesus," Mike muttered to himself as he watched a guy in front of him stumble forward and spill his entire cup of punch onto a senior girl's ballerina costume. A series of high-pitched shrieks ensued, and Mike darted toward the front door.

He was halfway up the large spiral staircase when he spotted El, who was just descending from the top. She was moving slowly, gripping the railing with both hands. Her steps were shaky, as though she was – Oh, no – drunk.

"Mike!" she exclaimed when she saw him. He jogged up the rest of the steps and when he reached her she practically jumped on him, flinging her arms around his neck.

"Are you okay?"

She sighed, and her breath was warm against his skin. "Can we go outside?" she asked, pulling back to look at him. She squeezed her eyes shut. "It's too… too much."

Mike wrapped one of her arms around his shoulder and gripped her side, helping her down the rest of the stairs. She groaned when she saw the crowd, and Mike decided to head straight for the front door. It would take longer to get around to the back of the house where he knew it would be quiet, but he wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

"What happened to Susannah?" he asked.

El's steps became a little steadier as they reached the landing. "She had to go talk to someone."

And she left you by yourself? Mike thought, anger settling low in his gut. But he held back, not wanting to upset El any further.

They stumbled outside, El still clinging to Mike's side even though they were finally clear of the crowds. He steered them along the side of the house toward the backyard. They reached the steps of the large wooden porch and sat down.

The property backed onto a few acres of forest, and the branches of the tall trees lining the edge of the yard swayed in the cool night air. Aside from a few people smoking near the back door, no one was outside, and Mike revelled in the welcome silence.

El was bent forward, her elbows resting on her knees. She cradled her head in her hands, and he could hear her measured breathing. He slid close to her and wrapped and arm around her shoulders.

"Hey," he said, moving his head down to hers. "You okay?"

She didn't say anything, instead dropping an arm and leaning into his side. She grabbed the front of Mike's shirt, anchoring him to her. He listened as her breaths slowly evened out.

"I'm okay now," she said finally. "It was just... too much noise. Too much everything."

He knew exactly what she meant. It wasn't just the insufferably loud music or the yelling and cheering and noisy chatter. It was the exhausting pace of social interaction; most of it shallow at best.

She lifted her head then and looked at Mike. "This is better," she said, shifting to face him. "I like being with just you."

Mike was grateful for the dim glow of the porch light so she couldn't see him turn what he was sure was a deep shade of red. He didn't know if she meant the double meaning to her words, but it felt special to him anyway.

"Me too, El."

They were looking at each other and Mike wanted nothing more than to kiss her like he'd been dying to do all night. But something made him stay put.

El raised a hand and brought it slowly to Mike's cheek, brushing her fingers along his jawline. She did the same on the other side, until she was carefully holding Mike's face in her hands.

He watched as she studied him; she brushed her thumbs along his freckles, played with the curls at his temples. He stayed as still as he could. She moved closer. "Beautiful," she whispered.

Mike resisted the urge to smile and risk moving her hands from their place. For some reason he knew that she wasn't just saying it because that's what he'd called her earlier. It was as if she'd been waiting to tell him, waiting for a time like this when it would be just them and she'd get a chance to show him, too.

El brushed a thumb across his bottom lip and Mike couldn't help it; he captured it in a kiss before she could move it away. She smiled. This time it was she who leaned forward to kiss him, moving her hands to rest at the back of his neck.

Mike kissed her back carefully, thinking she might still be a little shaken. But he was surprised to find her quickening the pace, pressing herself even closer to him.

There had been something shy about their previous kisses. Not that they lacked any sort of passion, but there was a reticence, mostly on Mike's part, to let it go on unabated. Not because he didn't want to – God, he did – but because he never wanted to push her in any way or rush her into something neither of them was ready for. Plus, he wasn't sure how much she really knew about relationships or intimacy or anything like that. She wasn't naive, and he didn't know much either, but still – he didn't want to do something she wasn't comfortable with.

But now, any hint of shyness seemed to have disappeared. The kiss grew more intense, and as El gasped slightly against his mouth, Mike was grateful they were sitting, because the phrase 'weak in the knees' suddenly held real meaning.

She leaned into him, closer and closer until finally, without breaking the kiss, she placed a hand on his knee and climbed up onto his lap. Mike froze. Oh good God. He leaned back slightly. "El – "

But she didn't let him finish, cutting him off with her lips, kissing him in that hungry way he'd never felt before. He clung desperately to her waist, her skin warm under his fingers. His head was hazy, swimming, and he could taste the sweetness of the punch on her lips. She kept one hand buried in his hair and grazed the other along his neck and shoulder, fingers dipping below his collar.

She moved her lips away from his then, and began to trace kisses along the exposed skin. Mike was certain she could feel his erratic pulse, the way his heart seemed to skip and speed up with every passing second. He felt like he couldn't breathe, let alone form a proper sentence, but he had to do something or else this would go somewhere he wasn't sure he wanted it to, not with the state El was in.

"El, I – I think we…" she placed a kiss just below his ear. Shit. "We should – "

"Go inside?" she mumbled. She moved back so they were face to face. Her eyes were wide, her skin flushed. "Somewhere… private?"

Oh. Oh.

The last thing – the very last thing – Mike wanted to do was reject her, but he didn't know how to handle her suggestion without it coming across like that. Am I being a complete idiot?

"I – I mean, yeah, but I… don't you think we should talk? About – about – " he struggled for the right words, feeling even more frantic as her face fell in disappointment.

Just then, the sound of shouting pierced into the night, coming from somewhere in the dark yard before them. They both winced, looking around for the source of the noise. Mike could hear feet shuffling on grass, and then a sharp thud, as though someone had lost their footing.

"Little dweeb, you thought you could just run away from us!"

It was a voice Mike didn't recognize, deep and booming, definitely belonging to someone older. El ambled off his lap, and his heart sank. The late October air stung without her warm body next to his.

There was another sharp thud, and this time it sounded distinctly like a punch – the bang of a fist connecting with its target.

"Please," came a strained voice, "It was an accident."

Mike and El exchanged frightened glances as they rose from the steps. They walked cautiously toward the far corner of the deck, where the noise was coming from.

A group of people came into view in the faded orange hue of the porch light. Three people were standing in a circle and Mike recognized them as the senior guys with the Halloween masks, though they were no longer wearing them. A figure was on the ground below, writhing in pain.

One of the seniors spoke. "Bullshit it was an accident. First you take our booze out of the fridge, and then I catch you going through my jacket?" With those words, he gave a short kick to the figure on the ground, who subsequently cried out in pain. "Didn't seem like an accident to me."

"I – I thought they were mine – honest mistake," the figure gasped. "Please – please, I swear."

Mike didn't recognize him, but he was definitely younger than his aggressors. He looked like he could even be a freshman.

"What do you think, Joe?" The senior who had just delivered the kick said. "Was it an honest mistake?"

Joe shook his head. "Didn't look like one. Looked like he knew what he was doing."

Another kick. A scream, more writhing. The seniors were all laughing now.

"El, we should go inside, I don't think – " Mike began, whispering. But when he turned, she wasn't there. She was making her way down the porch steps, right toward the commotion.

Oh God, no.

Mike hurried after her, fear prickling his skin. What the hell was she doing?

"Hey!" El shouted. "Leave him alone."

The laughter paused for a moment and Mike could see the group of seniors searching around for the source of the voice. El charged ahead.

"Excuse me?"

It was the one who'd given the first kick, the ringleader. He stepped away from the group and his eyes widened in suspicion as El approached. Mike could see him sizing her up, and a sick feeling came over him.

"I said, leave him alone," El repeated. "He said it was an accident."

"Why don't you mind your own business," the guy scoffed. He walked over to the boy, who was still slumped on the ground, and raised his foot, stomping it down hard on his shoulder. The boy yelped in agony. "You think someone who whines like a little girl just made an honest mistake?"

Mike finally caught up and grabbed El's arm. "El, come on – it's okay," he whispered, pulling her back. But with a strong jerk of her shoulder, she shoved him off.

She moved forward.

The senior rested his foot on the boy's shoulder, like he was keeping his place. "What do you think you're doing, sweetie?"

He was taunting her now, but El didn't waver.

"Go. Right now."

He laughed, looking back at the other two. "Can you believe this?" He glared at El. "I'm not going anywhere until I'm done with him."

He backed up and raised his foot again, higher than before. But just before the kick came down, he froze, stumbling backward as though someone had pushed him. He was on his back, legs in the air, before any of them knew what was happening.

El.

Mike tried to grab her again but she shot a hand backwards, using her powers to hold him in place.

Bewildered, the senior started to get up. "Get the hell out of here, you little shit!" he yelled, stepping toward her.

The freshman boy had risen to his knees and was ambling forward, towards the house. "Hey!" one of the seniors shouted, "Not so fast." But in the instant that he reached for the boy's shirt he was forced backward, propelled a few feet before landing hard on the grass.

Mike could sense the shift in the air, the awareness that something was not quite right. No one moved.

El spoke, cold and low and threatening. "Go." Her right hand was raised a little, and Mike could see it quivering.

"You think I'm afraid of you?" the ringleader said, getting back up on his feet. He moved over to where the freshman was, inching forward, and hauled him up, fist raised. "I swear, if you think – "

But before he could throw the punch, a beer bottle from the porch railing came soaring toward him, hurtling directly at his head. He ducked just in time to avoid it, and it hit a nearby tree, smashing to pieces.

"What in the – "

"I said, go!" El was screaming now.

She gave the senior another shove backwards with her powers, and he stumbled. He and the other rushed to help their friend up, and then the three of them scurried to the side of the house. "We're not finished!" the ringleader yelled over his shoulder. But the freshman boy had already made it up the porch steps and into the house.

The weighted force that had been keeping Mike in place lifted and he rushed to El, who had fallen to her knees. She was taking deep, gasping breaths, and in addition to the blood trailing from her nostrils, a steady trickle was coming out of both ears. Even in the darkness Mike could see that she was pale – too pale.

"El, El, come on, it's okay, come here," he murmured, frantic. She slumped against him, her eyes half open. Oh God no, oh no, oh no.

He tried to drag her up to standing, but she wasn't moving. "El please, El," he begged, panic rising in his throat. He shook her, but she only groaned.

"Mike?"

It was dark, but Mike didn't need to be able to see to know who it was. He looked behind him to find Will rushing down the porch steps. He hurried toward them, and Mike saw his features darken at the sight of El's face, now smeared with blood.

"What happened, Mike – what's going on." It was the first time since they were kids that he heard real fear in Will's voice.

"Will… please, I need your help."

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