In the fall of 1975, Mike started his first day of kindergarten. He didn't know anyone and consequently was terrified. His mother assured him that he'd make friends, but Mike wasn't too certain.
In retrospect, he shouldn't have doubted his mother, as he befriended Will, Lucas, and Dustin within their first month of school. How they all met was a little unusual — they didn't really choose to be friends, rather, they became friends by default. They were the ones outcasted by the other, bigger, cooler kids. Kids like Troy.
Mike and Will became friends when Troy pushed Will off a swing during recess. After Troy had left, Mike had hurried to Will's side, asked if he was okay, and helped him to the nurse's office.
Mike and Will became friends with Lucas when Troy broke Lucas' slingshot, also during recess. While Lucas had sulked in the corner of the playground, sniveling over the slingshot's snapped rubber band, Mike and Will had approached him and offered to help fix it.
Mike, Will, and Lucas became friends with Dustin when they overheard Troy mocking him during lunch. Dustin was seated at a lunch table, alone, when Troy and his friends had approached him.
"What kind of freak doesn't have teeth?" Troy had laughed, earning a round of snickers from his jeering friends.
"They're coming in!" Dustin had insisted, "I told you a million times!"
"I told you a million times!" Troy echoed, mimicking Dustin's lisp.
Mike, Will, and Lucas, seated at their own table a couple feet away, exchanged irked frowns. Though they didn't know Dustin personally, not yet, they knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of Troy's bullying.
After Troy gave Dustin a final shove and walked off, the three boys had grabbed their lunches and rushed to join Dustin at his table.
"Hey!" Mike greeted, giving Dustin a friendly smile.
Dustin eyed them suspiciously, wiping away freshly-formed tears. "Hi?"
"That's a cool lunchbox," Mike offered, nodding his head towards Dustin's metal Batman lunch box.
Dustin glanced at it, then back up at the other boys. "Thanks," he said, smiling hesitantly.
"Do you wanna be friends with us?" Will asked.
Dustin smiled wider, nodded, and it was as simple as that.
From that moment on, the four were inseparable. They were friends because they had no one else, they were the "other" category on the hierarchy of elementary school. And yet, they quickly discovered that they had more in common than they initially thought. They all loved looking at X-Men comics even if they were still struggling to read all the words, and they all preferred to role-play fantasy scenarios when the rest of the kids wanted to play kickball during recess.
They had each other's backs through the bad (Dustin's father leaving, and then Will's, Troy's ceaseless torments) and the good (winning the science fair in 5th grade, going to see Star Wars for the first time, planning their first ever Dungeons and Dragons campaign).
They also had each other's backs when it came to dealing with other kids. Since Hawkins was such a small town, everyone basically knew everyone, which meant it was easy for the boys to identify which of their classmates were kinda weird, but mostly fine (Max Mayfield, Jennifer Hayes) and which were obvious threats to be avoided (Troy, Troy's friends).
They helped each other establish a hierarchy, as Dustin would eventually label it, and learned their place in it. It was a rigid system that only grew more so as they became older, a system based on rumors and reputations.
In the fall of 1981, a new girl joined their 6th-grade class. Mike and the guys didn't know anything about her, but, according to what Troy had said in the locker room before Gym class, she was a "total weirdo" who was probably in a cult, or something.
The boys, off in their own secluded corner of the locker room, overheard this and turned to look at each other curiously.
"Do you think that's true?" Will quietly asked as the boys tied their sneakers.
"I dunno, I don't even know what she looks like," Mike shrugged back.
"I saw her," Dustin said, "She did look kinda freaky. Her hair was all slicked back, and she was wearing all these dark clothes, and it was really weird."
"That doesn't mean she's in a cult," Will frowned.
"It just means she's a weirdo," Lucas said dismissively, "Does it really matter? It's not like we're ever gonna have to talk to her anyway."
"We never should talk to her, even if we have to," Dustin stated, "Otherwise, we could like, get sacrificed in some weird cult ritual."
"She's probably not in a cult!" Will repeated, giving Dustin an exasperated look.
"Will's right," Mike agreed, "We shouldn't listen to stupid rumors, especially from Troy. We all know what he's said about us, what he's called us."
The other boys fell silent, frowning resignedly.
Frog-Face. Midnight. Toothless. Fairy.
"You're right," Lucas admitted somberly. "We shouldn't listen to him."
"Let's talk about something else," Dustin suddenly suggested, looking uncomfortable, "Like…our science fair project! We need an idea, otherwise, we're totally screwed."
"I was thinking we could do Volcanic Eruptions," Lucas offered, "We could make a volcano, and fill it with baking soda, add some vinegar—"
"The sodium bicarbonate of the baking soda would react with the acetic acid of the vinegar—" Dustin cut in, eyes widening in realization.
"It'd explode everywhere!" Lucas grinned gleefully, "Like lava! Everyone would totally lose their shit!"
"Let's do it!" Mike beamed, "It's going to be so awesome!"
"I could help make the volcano!" Will said eagerly, "My mom just got me some new art supplies!"
"We could all go to the library together and research!" Mike added.
As the boys continued to make plans on how they'd all work together to complete their volcanoes project, all worries were forgotten for the time being. When they had each other, they didn't have to worry about bullies.
Mike never thought that he'd be grateful to Troy for anything, but he had to admit, he would always be grateful that, in his own twisted way, Troy had brought them closer together.
In an even more twisted way, Troy would continue to do so 4 years later, when Mike started to fall for the total weirdo that was kind of in a cult—
Or something.
During Thursday's Biology class, Mrs. Hawthorne introduces the big presentation project that they'll be working on for the rest of the semester.
"You'll be working with a partner to further investigate one of the topics we've covered this semester," She explains, pointing to a list of topics she has written on the chalkboard, "You can choose any topic you like, but it needs to be substantial enough for a five-page research paper and a 10-minute oral presentation."
Mike's trying his best to stay focused, but the entire time that Mrs. Hawthorne's talking, Mike can feel Troy giving him a death glare. Even though Mike refuses to look back, he can feel it creeping across his spine, making his hair stand on end.
Mike's been doing his best to avoid Troy all day, but it's been difficult. During breaks, he had to hide out in the restrooms like a moron. During Gym class, he avoided changing in the locker rooms at the same time as everyone else by pretending that he really needed to talk to his Gym teacher about how he could "become a better team player" and "work on his attitude."
But now, during Biology class, there's no avoiding Troy. Though Mike definitely doesn't regret giving Troy what he deserves, he admittedly isn't enjoying the aftermath of the decision.
As Mrs. Hawthorne continues to share the details of their upcoming project, Mike can't help but start to feel nervous. Well, nervous-er. What if he gets assigned Troy as his partner? He'd be totally screwed. He'd literally die.
Mike chews on his lower lip as he considers this. His foot starts to drum on the floor as he starts planning ways he can mysteriously disappear, fake his death, and rejoin school under a new identity.
Fortunately, that plan isn't necessary.
"Since this project is going to be so time-consuming," Mrs. Hawthorne continues, "I will be allowing you to pick your partners."
Mike perks up at once. They'd get to PICK their partners? That means—
He turns to glance over his shoulder and is elated to see that El is already smiling back at him. He gives her a questioning look and El nods back in response.
After their teacher finishes describing the assignment, she allows the students to pick their partners and decide what topic they'll be exploring. As soon as she allows everyone to get started, all the student rise out of their desks and rush to their friends. Mike maneuvers towards the back of the room, coming to a stop at El's desk.
"Hey!" He beams excitedly.
"Hi!" She smiles.
"So, we're working together, right?" Mike asks hopefully.
"Actually, I really wanted to work with Troy," El says flatly.
For a moment, Mike blanches, but then El bursts into giggles, and Mike flushes red instead. "You're hilarious," he says with an eye roll.
El's laughter dies down as she takes a steadying breath to compose herself. "I want to work with you," she assures him, giving him a serious look, "Why wouldn't I?"
"I dunno," Mike shrugs, "The last time we worked together, I almost got us covered in frog guts."
"But we got a good grade," El reminds him. She pauses, then adds, "And it was fun."
As her eyes meet his, she gives him a soft, gentle smile, and Mike suddenly feels that weird aura again, the one that always leaves him feeling mystified at just how pretty she is and cute and funny and smart and just amazing.
"Yeah," he says thickly, not looking away, "It was really fun."
El's smile grows larger and she ducks her head shyly. The loss of eye contact breaks Mike's stupor as he's suddenly reminded of the fact that they're in Biology class, along with 20 or so of their classmates, and that they're supposed to be picking a project topic.
"Uh, so," he says, clearing his throat and looking back towards the chalkboard, "What topic do you wanna do?"
"Right," El blushes, looking towards the board as well. She considers it for a moment, looking a little uncertain. "I'm not sure," she finally admits, "Which do you want?"
"We can do whatever you want to."
"I don't know what I want, Mike."
"Fine, then," Mike sighs, giving in. He examines the board for a moment, weighing all his options before he turns back to El. "Why don't we do…uh…Human Genetics? You know, with like, all the chromosomes and Mendel charts and stuff?"
"Okay," El nods, not looking at him, but rather, something at the other side of the classroom.
"Awesome, so, we should probably start researching right away," Mike suggests, "We could go to the library, after school, if you want?"
"Okay," El says again, still not looking at Mike.
Mike frowns, "Is everything okay?"
El flinches and quickly looks back at him. "Yes!" She says a little too quickly, a little too anxiously.
Mike gives her a wary look. "What were you looking at?"
El hesitates, before admitting, "Troy. He keeps staring at us."
Mike looks across to the other side of the classroom, where Troy is chatting with one of his friends. His nose is still a little red and covered with a large band-aid, and when he sees that Mike is looking at him, he gives him a dark, threatening glare.
Mike swallows and looks back to El, trying to appear indifferent. "Whatever," he says, shrugging, "I don't care about him."
El gives him a doubtful look. "You don't?"
"Yeah," Mike insists, "He's just being an idiot."
"A mouth-breather," El jokes, causing Mike to smile.
"Yeah, a mouth-breather," he nods.
The two exchange wry smiles before they proceed to make plans to study after school. The two agree to meet at the bike rack again, Biology class ends, and they both depart for their 7th-period classes.
As Mike sits through his last class of the day, all he can do his hope that this library venture will go better than he and El's last one.
After school, they meet at the bike rack, just as planned.
El smiles excitedly as she approaches him, her arms swinging at her sides as she walks. She looks so happy, which makes Mike really happy, and he just has to keep reminding himself to not screw things up this time.
"Let's go!" El says, giving Mike a quick hug before grabbing his bike.
Mike, still blushing from the hug, takes a moment for his mouth to catch up to his brain. "Don't you wanna, uh, skateboard to the library?" He asks, eyeing her as El mounts his bike.
"I forgot my board at home," El innocently replies.
Mike eyes her suspiciously. He's pretty certain that he saw Max and El skateboard into the school parking lot this morning. In fact, he's almost 100% sure of it, because he and the guys had been talking outside before school started, and seeing the girls skateboarding had made Lucas laugh about the time Dustin fell off Max's skateboard, and that made Dustin laugh about the time Max destroyed Lucas in Dig-Dug, and that made them start fighting, and then Mike and Will had to break up the wrestling match that broke out between them.
Mike looks her over for a moment, but El only gives him an expectant smile, and Mike suddenly realizes that if El really does have her skateboard here, she's choosing to ride with him instead.
Oh.
Mike feels himself blush harder, though he tries to maintain a cool composure. "Okay, then," he says, climbing onto the bike in front of her.
El grabs onto his sleeves just as she had before, and then they're off.
The bike ride is just as quiet as their first one, but just as cozy. As he bikes down the leave-strewn streets of downtown Hawkins, Mike can't help but reflect on just how lucky he is. A little less than a month ago, the highlight of Mike's week had included making 15 bucks off the History test he sold to a hungover upperclassman. Today, he's getting to spend one-on-one time with the literally the coolest girl at Hawkins High, who, as of Tuesday night, had said that he was cute.
They arrive at the library and leave Mike's bike in the bushes as usual. When they enter the building, Marissa, seated behind her desk as always, gives them a wary look, but both Mike and El give her reassuring smiles in return.
"We'll be quiet!" Mike assures, speaking in a whisper.
"Promise!" El adds.
Marissa still looks hesitant, but nods, turning her attention back to the book she's currently reading.
Mike and El make their way to the science section and grab all the books on genetics that they can find. They find a table in the back of the library and get to work, each picking a book to read and sharing any useful information they find with each other.
They work until sunset, a point at which their brains feel overloaded with information and their eyes hurt from reading so much.
"I think we got enough for today," Mike says with a sigh, shutting his book shut.
El nods gratefully. "I have a headache," she mutters, slumping back in her seat.
Mike looks out the window at the fading dusk sky and gives her a hesitant smile. "Do you want me to bike you home this time? I know you said your house isn't far, but, I mean…" His voice trails off weakly as he realizes he doesn't have a better excuse than wanting to spend more time with her, which seems like a totally lame thing to say.
To his relief, instead of deflecting like she did last time, El chooses to smile at him instead. "Okay," she says, giving a small shrug.
Mike tries (and fails) to not grin like an idiot. "Okay."
They pack up their things, put the science books back on the shelves, and head back outside together. The evening is brisk and the glow of the sunset makes both of their faces look pink.
"It's so cold," El comments, rubbing her arms as Mike digs his bike out of the bushes.
"Yeah," Mike agrees, yanking his bike out and onto the pavement. "I hate how—" As he gets a good look at his bike, his voice cuts off abruptly.
"What?" El asks, peering at Mike curiously.
"Somebody slashed my bike's tires!" Mike responds, pointing it out to El.
"What?!" El says again, frowning in concern.
"Yeah!" Mike snaps bitterly, glaring at the deep gashes that run across each tire, "They're completely ruined! There's no way that this was an accident!"
"Who would do that?" El asks, knitting her brow in confusion.
Their eyes meet, and it only takes a moment for them both to come to an answer.
"Troy," they both mutter, exchanging defeated looks.
"Of course," Mike continues, letting out a heavy sigh, "He probably overheard us during Biology, when we said we were going to meet here."
"Why does he hate you so much?" El queries, shaking her head forlornly.
"I dunno," Mike mutters, "But he always has."
"He's always mean to you and our friends," El continues, looking increasingly angry, "He locked Dustin into his locker, he calls us names, he —"
"I know," Mike cuts her off, not really wanting a play-by-play of some of the worst memories of his life, "I don't like it either, okay? But it's been happening since we were literally in kindergarten, so it's not like there's anything we can do to change it."
"It's not fair," El glowers.
"It's not," Mike agrees.
They fall silent for a minute, then Mike states the obvious.
"I guess I can't bike you home."
El looks up at him, anger dissolving at his saddened expression. "No," she admits, "But you could walk me."
Mike brightens. "Really?"
"Yes," El replies, giving him a soft smile, "Let's go."
She starts walking off down the sidewalk, and Mike doesn't need to be told twice to follow her.
As they walk further away from the downtown Hawkins area, the number of streetlights and passing cars become fewer and far between. They continuing walking onto a wooded trail that El claims leads back to her house.
Mike holds onto his handlebars as he walks his broken bike beside her. El starts talking more about their Biology project, something about how nervous she is about the speech they're going to have to give in front of the class, though Mike has to admit he isn't really listening. He's too distracted by the way her skin is still glowing in the warm light of the sunset, the way her lips curve nervously as she talks quietly, carefully. The way a stray curl has escaped from her ever-slicked back hair and instead frames her face in a petite spiral.
El notices the way he's staring at her and stops talking. "What?" She asks, smiling at him self-consciously.
Mike can't think of any words that would give justice to all the thoughts running through his head right now. Instead, he only shakes his head wordlessly at her, unable to stop himself from smiling.
"Just…you," he says, hoping El doesn't think that he sounds like an idiot.
"Me?" El murmurs, looking a little confused, yet hopeful at the same time
Mike nods.
Their eyes meet as they slowly stop walking, coming to a complete stop.
El studies his face, gaze soft, and for a moment, Mike feels as if they're suspended in time, gazes locked, each daring the other to make the first move.
And then that moment ends.
They hear the crack of a tree branch snapping in two, and both turn with a start to see someone emerging from the trees, walking towards them.
Troy.
His posture is stiff and tense and his face is hardened with a steely glare. El's breath hitches as he strides determinedly towards them, and Mike takes a protective step closer to her.
"Mike," El murmurs, voice shaky.
"Don't worry," Mike assures her, "I won't let him hurt you."
El starts to say something but is abruptly cut off.
"Well, well, well," Troy sneers, coming to a stop in front of Mike and El, "Look who it is: the freaks."
This time, Mike doesn't have to ask what Troy wants. Troy had made it explicitly clear that their argument during Gym class wasn't going to be the end of it.
Surprisingly, he doesn't feel as afraid as he thought he'd feel. Instead, he keeps thinking back to what El said at the library, about how Troy treated him wasn't fair. Mike had never done anything to warrant this level of bullying, and as that realization sets in, he finds himself growing increasingly frustrated. He shouldn't have to spend the rest of his life hiding in bathrooms or with his Gym teacher.
It's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair.
"Go away, Troy," Mike says coldly, grasping the handlebars of his bike tightly.
As the sun continues to set in the sky, the pink light is steadying fading to a deep orangey-red. The vibrant light highlights and shadows Troy's face, making his damaged nose even more prominent.
At Mike's order, Troy only scoffs. "'Go away'? Seriously, Wheeler?" He scowls, "I mean, I always knew you were dense, but I didn't think you were this completely stupid."
"Leave us alone, Troy!" El pleads anxiously.
"Stay out of this!" Troy barks, causing El to flinch back.
She's scared. Mike can see it in the way her eyes are widening, the way she steps closer to Mike nervously. He suddenly flashes back to Jennifer Hayes' party, when El had been so scared that she'd passed out. Mike can't let that happen again. He has to keep her safe.
"Don't yell at her!" Mike orders angrily.
"You don't tell me what to do, Frog Face," Troy sneers, stepping closer to Mike. "And you don't get to push me around, either."
"I don't push you around!" Mike insists, not backing down.
"You broke my fucking nose!"
"You deserved it!"
"Why? Because I told the truth about your freak of a girlfriend?" Troy snorts.
"Because it's not true! Because I'm sick of you picking on me and my friends!"
"Mike, stop!" El insists, grasping onto his arm.
Mike only ignores her, shrugging her off. "You slashed my tires!" He snaps accusingly, glaring at Troy.
"Of course I did!" Troy derides, "I had to make sure that you were here for the big show!"
"The show!?"
"I told you that you were dead meat," Troy reminds him threateningly, "I wasn't pussy-footing around, Wheeler."
"Then go ahead and get it over with!" Mike says brusquely, trying to sound as tough as possible. Thankfully, he doesn't have to try too hard. Mike's sick of being pushed around by Troy. He's been doing nothing but stopping and running and hiding his entire life, and he's more than ready for things to change. He's not going to let Troy push him around, not anymore, and especially not in front of El.
He can feel adrenaline pulsating through him again, just as it had before he'd thrown the dodgeball. If it's a fight Troy wants, then it's a fight he'll get.
"There's no teachers around to protect you now, Wheeler," Troy warns, hands balling into fists, "And there's no way your weirdo girlfriend is going to protect you, either."
"So what?" Mike scorns, "I don't need them."
"Mike!" El says again, sounding frantic.
Mike forces himself to block her out. Even though he's never been in a real, physical fight before, he knows that he can't fail. He needs to stick up for himself once and for all.
And so, Mike lets go of his handlebars, pushes his bike off to the side, raises his fists, and readies himself for whatever comes next.
As it turns out, what comes next is a punch to the face.
Troy swings first, his fist landing into Mike's jaw before Mike can even think to defend himself. Surprisingly, Mike doesn't feel the harsh, crushing pain that he'd expect, but rather, a blinding numbness. Stars burst in front of his eyes as Troy swings back and punches him again, this time landing a blow against Mike's temple, and then to his ear.
Mike feels his ears pop, and suddenly everything sounds muddled and distant — like his head is submerged underwater.
From somewhere that sounds far away, he can hear El crying out. "Stop it! You're hurting him!"
Mike grits his teeth and lunges forward, swinging his fists wildly, clobbering every inch of Troy that he can reach. He manages to land a punch directly into Troy's gut, causing him to double over in pain, but it doesn't matter. Troy is stronger, tougher, and has probably done this before. Even while doubled over, he delivers a swift kick to Mike's shins and sends Mike crumbling to his knees.
"STOP!" El shrieks, sounding further and further away.
Mike and Troy tackle each other to the ground, each spitting curses at the other as they continue to punch, kick, and clobber one another.
With a walloping blow to the head, Troy gains the upper hand and manages to pin Mike to the ground. Mike can feel his head sink into the damp, muddy grass as Troy proceeds to bash Mike's head in with his fists — over and over and over again.
Each punch is relentless, and each punch causes Mike's vision to grow blurrier and blurrier. Through the muffled and distant sounds he's able to hear, there's a ringing in his ears that only grows stronger with each pulverizing blow.
As a warm and metallic taste suddenly bursts in Mike's mouth, he idly becomes aware of the fact that not only is he losing this fight, but he's losing badly.
Troy bashes his head to the left, and then to the right.
The ringing in Mike's ears is growing louder and louder, and then he realizes it's not a ringing at all, but a scream. A high-pitched, anguished, piercingly loud scream.
Without warning, Troy is immediately yanked off of Mike and launched into the air. He flies backward as if he weighed nothing at all — as if he was pulled by a large magnetic force.
Mike blinks, trying to see what happened, but the world keeps spinning and teetering back and forth, and he can barely sit up straight. He manages to make out the shape of Troy lying in the grass a couple feet away, clutching his arm and howling in pain.
Mike frowns, at first wondering if he's seeing things, but Troy only continues to howl, his cries sounding underwater-y again.
Thoroughly confused, Mike looks around for El, worried that she might have fainted from being scared, but is instead shocked to see that she's actually standing over Troy, arm outstretched, eyes burning with anger.
"W-what?" Mike mumbles faintly, coughing up a mouthful of blood.
"My ARM!" Troy wails, his anguished cries melding with the persistent ringing in Mike's ear. "She broke my fucking arm!"
El only continues to glare at Troy, seemingly indifferent to his bawling distress. "Leave," she orders simply, "Now."
"You freak!" Troy spits, shakily rising to his feet. "You're insane! You're INSANE!"
"If you tell anyone," El commands, voice cold, "I'll tell them what you did to Mike."
Mike doesn't hear what Troy says next. The ringing is getting louder, and their voices sound more and more muffled, more underwater, and as Mike sinks back against the cold grass, he feels like he's drowning.
Darkness ebbs at the corners of his vision as pain begins to set in. Every bone in his body feels like his aching, and all Mike wants to do is fall asleep…if he could only sleep…
"Mike?!"
Her voice just manages to drifts through his consciousness, and Mike dazedly realizes that El is now leaning over him. Though her face is all blurry and distorted, he's just able to make out the trail of blood that's streaming from her nose…
...just as it had at Jennifer's party.
"MIKE!" El gasps, cupping his cheeks.
"El?" Mike rasps feebly.
And then everything goes black.
Pain.
It's the first conscious thought Mike has as he awakes, even though it's hardly coherent. But coherent or not, as he opens his eyes, pain is definitely the first thing he's aware of. His head is pounding like he'd bashed it into a wall several times while both listening to heavy metal and having a migraine. His mouth is still dry and tastes of metallic iron. His bones feel weighted down from how sore they are, and it takes every ounce of strength within Mike to even sit up.
When he does, he realizes he's tucked into the bottom bunk of his bed, back in the safety of his home.
He blinks around in confusion, gaze landing on his digital alarm clock.
1 AM.
How did he get here?
Mike groaned and clutches his throbbing head. Memories of his fight with Troy come back as painful, red-toned images. He remembers everything, even the parts that he wishes he didn't. Even the parts that didn't make sense, like Troy flying through the air, El's bloody nose, the way she'd been standing so powerfully, so unblinkingly…
None of it makes any sense. It was so weird and strange and how had he gotten back to his room and had Troy actually flown and why did he say that SHE had broken his arm when she was standing several feet away?
He needs to talk to her.
Mike carefully pulls himself out of bed, wincing as he rises to his feet. His room is noticeably chilly and he realizes that someone left his bedroom window open. Though slightly unnerved by this, he proceeds to walk over to his bedroom door and unlock it. Making sure to stay as quiet as possible, he tip-toes out into the hallway, not wanting to wake his family members.
As he makes his way downstairs, he catches sight of his reflection in the hallway mirror. His cheeks, jaw, nose, and temple are patched-up with neon-heart-patterned bandaids, the same kind that his mom had bought for Holly recently. Though his face is clearly dinged up, it feels freshly washed, like someone had scrubbed it clean.
Mike doesn't take time to consider what this all could mean, and instead continues on downstairs. He stumbles into the kitchen, tiredly searching out the Yellow Pages book. When he finds it tucked amongst his mother's cookbooks, he grasps it with both hands and trudges to the family phone.
His eyes take a minute to focus in on the pages, but as soon as he's able to properly distinguishes the letters, he flips through the "H" residencies.
Hopper, he mentally repeats, Hopper, Hopper, Hopper.
Thankfully, there's only one Hopper listed in Hawkins, Jim, and Mike proceeds to dial the number with shaking fingers.
Yes, he knows that it's late. Yes, he knows that El's probably asleep. Yes, he knows that he can barely think, let alone form coherent sentences, but he has to talk to her, he has to.
The first time he calls, no one answers. The voicemail operator starts instructing Mike to leave a message, but Mike instead hangs up the phone and dials the number again.
The phone continues to ring without reprieve.
"C'mon, pick up," Mike mutters, tapping his foot.
No answer.
Mike calls a third time, and when he still gets no answer, he decides to comply and leave a voicemail.
"El?" He begins, voice cracking a little, "It's…it's me, Mike. I know you're probably asleep, but…I just need to talk to you, okay? If you're hearing this right now, please pick up. I don't know what's going on and I don't know if you're okay or not and I just…"
His voice breaks off helplessly, hopelessly. He doesn't know what to say, he doesn't know what to think.
"Just please, tell me what's going on," Mike mumbles hoarsely, "I need to know. I need to know what happened and you're the only one who can help."
He stops, desperately waiting for someone to pick up the phone.
A minute passes.
Mike clutches the receiver tighter, exhaustion slowly overwhelming him. "El?" He pleads despairingly, "Are you there?"
He hears the crackle of phone static, but nothing more.