"Mike," Nancy exhales, standing up from the couch as he closes the door of their apartment behind him. "There's someone here who wants to talk to you."
He frowns in confusion, hands gripping one of the sleeves of his jacket so he can start shrugging it off, as a man stands up from the other couch. He freezes his movements as recognition dawns on him. He has seen this man before, very briefly and months ago, but he knows exactly who he is.
He's tall, complexion sturdy and broad-shouldered, clad in a brown shirt and black slacks. His hair is a dark brown, matching the thick beard on his face, and his eyes are a deep blue, currently set on him.
"Michael," Hopper says, face serious as he walks over to him, extending a hand out. "I'm Jim Hopper, El's dad. I was hoping we could have a little chat."
He hates himself the minute his hand meets the man's, feeling his palms start to sweat as they shake hands formally. He has never been intimidated by someone, or at least not in a while, but El's father is nothing but imposing, and it doesn't help that he's been seeing his daughter in secret. Shit, what if he followed them and he's there to castrate him for taking her to the tattoo parlor?
"I- Uh… sure." He coughs lightly to get some shock out of his throat. "I know a place where we can talk comfortably. It's near, we can walk if you want to."
"Lead the way then." Hopper gestures with a hand, silently ordering him to start walking, and he nods while he rearranges his jacket.
Hopper takes his own jacket from the back of the couch, where Mike presumes the man had thrown it on when he arrived. Which leads him to wonder how did he even found his address. He makes a mental note to ask El about her Dad's job as soon as he sees her again.
"Thank you, Miss Wheeler. It was nice to meet you." Hopper smiles gratefully at his sister as he puts the jacket on.
"Of course, sir. It was nice to meet you too. If you need anything else don't hesitate to reach out to me." Nancy shakes his hand eagerly, exhaling deeply once he turns around to head for the door.
Mike opens the door once more, pocketing his keys and gesturing outside so Hopper goes out first. "Mike," Nancy calls him, and when he turns his head, her eyes meet his with a concerned look. "We need to talk. I'll be waiting for you."
He frowns again, shrugging and nodding so she knows he'll return home and face whatever trouble she thinks he got himself into now.
Right after the door closes with a click, Nancy sighs deeply, throwing herself back on the couch with a tired grunt, fingertips pressing against her eyelids without caring if she smudges her makeup. Who would've thought living with your younger sibling would bring so much responsibility to your plate?
"Damn you, Michael Wheeler." She mutters tiredly, lifting her legs and leaning her head back on the arm rest, lying down completely on the couch.
.
.
.
The inside of the bar is different than what Hopper had expected. As soon as they arrived after an uncomfortable walk in silence (uncomfortable for Mike, no doubt, because Hop was as fresh as a piece of lettuce), he threw a look in his daughter's boyfriend direction.
The bar looked a heavy rain away from falling apart. Well, not really, but it was old and had an unkempt outer appearance, which changed the minute he set a foot inside.
It was medium sized, the floors a brown wood with some stains and creaks on certain spots, due to the years, no doubt. There were some people on the little tables, chatting amicably or laughing over a few bottles of beer. A colorful jukebox stood in the corner of the room, the music setting a nice ambient around, loud enough to reach everyone's ears, but not so much that you couldn't hold a conversation.
"This is nice." Hopper thinks aloud as they sit on a bar stool, facing the actual bar. The alcohol bottles stand on various shelfs on the wall, all a variety of brands and sizes. Knick knacks and cups litter the counter under the shelfs, but it looks cozy and homely instead of messy.
"I know, right?" Mike smiles at him, bracing his arms on the bar island as he leans in to peer into the door inside the bar circle. "One of my friend's mom owns it."
"So you get a discount code?" Hopper joked flatly, still eying the place.
"Kind of," he answers with a chuckle. "Will's mom is always giving us free smoothies. I don't… really drink…" Okay, that was a lie, but he wasn't just going to tell his… father-in-law what rendezvous he got himself into. "…much."
"It's okay, kid," Hopper laughs, taking his jacket off and placing it on the back of the bar stool (bar stools with back rests, another point in this place's favor). "I'm not here to incarcerate you."
"You're not?" Mike questions carefully, trying to look nonchalant but wanting to decode Hopper's intentions.
"Why don't we get a drink first?" He proposes, eyeing the bottles with a calculating gaze.
Right on time, the door of what looks to be the kitchen opens, and a petite, short brunette comes out, hands on her hair as she lifts it up from her sweaty neck and ties it in a ponytail. She looks up and smiles instantly when she meets Mike's gaze, eyes going from his to the man next to him, but before he can introduce his companion, he speaks up.
"Joyce." Hopper breathes, surprise written all over his face as he leans back on the backrest from the sight of her.
"Well, I'll be damned," Joyce Byers laughs, pleasant wonder in her expression as she walks to them. "Jim Hopper."*
Mike looks between the two adults, eyebrows raised as he realizes they obviously know each other. Joyce looks extremely happy, while Hopper has started to look bright-eyed, a bit of a wistful smile twisting his lips.
"I- how… Hi." Hopper stumbles through his words, a surprised laugh falling out of him as he rises from his seat and actually reaches out to hug Joyce, who has to lean in over the counter to hug back the big man.
Mike chuckles as he takes in the tiny form of Will's mom inside of El's father's large arms. He can't help but notice that they look awfully close, or at least, it looks like they were, once upon a time.
"You haven't changed at all." Joyce smiles as Hopper takes his seat again, a bit of a blush staining her cheeks.
"You know what they say about old oaks." He smirks with a raised eyebrow.
Joyce's laugh is tinkering; mirth and amusement mingling together to form a familiar sound that has Mike's heart swooning and Hopper's clenching with melancholy.
"You two know each other?" Mike finally asks, expecting an obvious answer but still wanting to hear the story from them.
"Hey, honey," Joyce finally greets him, curling a skinny arm around his neck to kiss his cheek and hug him briefly. Her scent is warm and comforting, a bit of sweat and kitchen grease clinging to her blouse, but he always feels at ease with her. "Yeah. Hop and I went to school together."
"We were…" Hopper trails off, his hands pressing against the bar when a nostalgic look appears on his face.
"Friends." Joyce finishes for him, bracing her crossed arms on the bar and staring at Hopper's face, her bright eyes full of warmth. "Great friends."
Hopper sighs, a lopsided smile directed at her. Mike feels like he's intruding, but the curiosity has spiked up, and he's itching to call Will and ask if he knows anything about this relationship; because by now he can figure things out by himself, and it is obvious that these two had something more than a friendship in the past, judging by their wistful faces and their close interactions.
"What are you guys having?" Joyce addresses them, leaning back to gesture to the wall behind her.
"Uhmm, I'll have a coke." Mike smiles.
"And I—"
"Let me guess," Joyce cuts Hopper off with a knowing grin. "A beer." He laughs softly, nodding his head as he rolls the sleeves of his shirt up his forearms. "A bottle of coke and a Schlitz coming right up." Joyce smiles, turning around and walking to the large fridge on the other side of the bar.
"You're special." Mike whispers to Hopper, a teasing glint in his eyes and a light smirk on his lips.
He turns his head to look at him, furrowing his eyebrows in amusement. "Why is that?"
"She doesn't offer Schlitz to everyone. That's a special brand for her. You must've been on her good side." Mike smiles, leaning an elbow on the bar and resting his cheek on his fist.
"Really?" Hopper raises his eyebrows, quickly turning to look at Joyce's back before facing him again. "What's your friend's name?"
"Will Byers." He answers, knowing he's talking about Joyce's previously mentioned son.
An indescribable look shifts in Hopper's eyes, the blue darkening for a bit before he coughs lightly, nodding at his response as Joyce places the opened bottles in front of them.
"How's Lonnie?" It comes out more like a grunt than a normal question, but Mike is kind of sure that Hopper meant for it to sound like that.
Joyce pauses, hand still gripping the bottle of coke, but then she actually barks a laugh out. She licks her lips before looking at Hopper. "That's actually a great question. How is Lonnie? I wouldn't know, so I don't have the answer you're looking for, I'm afraid." At Hopper's questioning frown, she smiles, taking the caps from the counter and throwing them in the trashcan. "Lonnie Byers has been out of my life for at least ten years, Hop."
"I… I'm sorry, I just… well, how is your son?" Hopper clears his throat, changing the subject as he takes a sip of his beer.
"Sons," Joyce corrects gently, leaning in to grab a framed photo that Mike knows she always keeps in the bar. "This is Jonathan," she points at Will's older brother, showing Hopper the photo. "And this is Will."
"They look like you," Hopper smiles honestly, watching her as she strokes the photo before she puts it back in its place. "Thank God."
"Stop, you evil man," she laughs taking a paper towel and moping some wetness from the counter. "He wasn't that ugly. Now," she wipes her hands on the apron tied around her waist. "How are yours?" She reaches out and gently touches the wedding band around Hopper's left ring finger.
His face shifts, something close to guilt clouding his blue eyes, and Mike makes himself busy by sipping his coke, eyes on the pair. Hopper sighs, pulling his phone from his pants' pocket, tapping on it a few times before a smile blooms on his face. "These are my girls."
He turns the phone to show Joyce a photo of El and Sara, introducing them to her, and Mike can't help the flutter of his heart at the sight of his beautiful girlfriend, smiling softly as he watches Joyce observe them.
"Oh, wow, Hop, they're gorgeous." She grins, staring at both girls, wrinkles appearing around her eyes.
"I know." The large man smiles softly, evident pride filling him as he shows his girls.
Joyce peals her eyes from the phone to stare at Mike, catching him off ward, a knowing look on her face. "The blonde one looks a bit young, so I'm guessing you brought Mike here to talk about the brunette?" She directs her words at both, a teasing smile on her lips.
"Uh," Hopper says, letting a laugh tumble out of him as he looks at Mike. "Yeah. That's El."
"Well, I'll let you talk then. Go easy on him, Hop," she warns as she ducks underneath the bar counter, walking to stand in the middle of both. "He's a great kid. Right, sweetie?" She hugs him from behind, kissing his curls as Mike laughs, curling an arm around her shoulder from underneath hers.
She starts to walk away, and he can see Hopper fidget before he speaks up. "Wait, Joycie—"
Mike tries to suppress a twitch on his eyebrow at the nickname, failing miserably as he feels the movement on his face, but it doesn't matter because Hopper isn't looking at him.
"I'll be around," Joyce smiles through a sigh, shifting to place a hand on Hopper's shoulder. "You know where to find me now. Or we can have a smoke break once you two are done talking. Like the old times?"
"I'd love that." Jim agrees with a nod, lifting a hand to cover hers on his shoulder, looking up at her with a smile.
With one last shared look, Joyce walks away, leaving them alone at the bar. Mike keeps quiet while Hopper watches her go, sipping his beer once more before he turns to look at Mike.
Realizing he showed him a more relaxed side, he keeps the smile on his face, listening to Joyce's advice and going easy. "I don't know where to begin. You already know why we're here, as Joyce obviously pointed out. My wife… told me to talk to you."
"Sir," Mike pauses, trying to think on the correct words to use. "I understand your wife is worried. Her daughter is dating a guy who rides a bike, 80 miles per hour, because… I don't want to stop and see what's happening around me."
Hopper nods, nursing his beer, and Mike is thankful that he looks ready to hear him out, because he feels his emotions coming out in the form of word-vomit. He takes a sip of his coke, feeling the cold drink slipping down his throat. In his head, he's thinking on how to follow. He didn't really plan on going full secrets-out, but he wants to be honest. For El, so her father can see that he's got the right intentions.
"And then, suddenly, someone appears, saying: 'hey, calm down. Ease up on the gas'." He stares at Hopper; his eyes are on him, but his mind isn't with him anymore. He's thinking of El, of what she means to him. "And when you slow down… you become aware of things." He's back in the bar, a smile on his lips at the memory of her. "You notice," he points at a shelf. "That there's an old photograph of Times Square, taken by Jonathan a few years ago, behind the bottles of tequila." His ears sharpen as he detects the familiar guitar accords and thumps of the drums, making him smile as Stings begins to sing. "You notice that my favorite song is currently playing. That today is Sunday 10th, and that Joyce-", he pauses, looking over his shoulder at where Joyce is asking some costumers if everything is fine. Hopper looks over as well, and is rewarded with a smile when she looks up and meets his eyes. "-would go with you to the ends of the earth if you asked her to, in this very moment."
Hopper looks back at him, blue eyes shiny and moist, and Mike doesn't have to ask to tell that he knows it's true. "Your daughter is easing me up, Hop. She's…" he chuckles to himself, shaking his head a little. "She's taming me. And that's doing me real good."
Jim Hopper shares a look with him, nodding his head as he understands every word he said. It relaxes him, knowing he made himself clear to the most important man in El's life. He knows Hopper will be his advocate now, because he felt that connection. As if he knew what it was to have a girl slowing you down and making you see the things you didn't want to notice.
"She makes everything better, doesn't she?" Hopper smiles indulgently, tapping his phone's home button, making the screen saver illuminate their faces. El's smile greets him, her hazel-brown orbs reflecting the sun from the place where the photo was taken. He nods slowly, appreciating the sight. Hopper clasps his shoulder with a big hand, squeezing with a smirk as he lifts his beer to his lips. "Cheers."
.
.
.
"Mike?" Nancy calls as he slips through the front door for the second time that night.
He sighs deeply, rubbing a hand on his hair, messing up his curls. He had forgotten about their talk, and he doesn't have the energy for a lecture right now.
"Mike." His older sister presses on, standing up from her place on the couch and following him as he slips away to the hallway. "Michael!"
"Not now, Nancy, please." He exhales, shrugging his heavy jacket off from his shoulders. There was a deep ache in his right shoulder blade, one that throbbed by itself and made him wince in pain every time he moved.
"Yes now, Michael!" Nancy snaps, gripping the back of his shirt in a fist as she plants her feet on the carpet to prevent him from walking away, but it is useless, as he only shrugs her off and uses his larger height to drag her along. "Mike, what the hell is wrong with you?! Didn't you understand what Owens said to you? One more offence and you'll go to prison!"
She's starting to get on his very last nerve. He has always been good with his sister, but her shrill voice is grating on his ears, and after the long night he had, the last thing he wants now is her chewing his ass while he could be in the shower, or better yet, in his bed, ready for a much needed slumber.
"Nance—"
"Don't you dare Nance me right now!" She finally gets a good grip on his arm, tugging on it and sharply making him turn around to face her. Her face is nearly red, pink splotches of anger on her cheeks, blue eyes nearly cracking him in half with the piercing glare she's giving him, but that's fine, because his own glare matches hers. "Besides filling me in on the fact that you're dating his daughter, Mr. Hopper was here to inform me that a friend of his has pressed charges against you! You broke his nose! What the fucking hell is wrong with you?!"
"It was an accident!" He nearly barks at her, eyes hard and breathing labored, vein on his neck starting to protrude.
"No! An accident is dropping something! You don't break a man's nose in accident! Seriously, Michael, I've helped you in any way possible, and you still don't get it! I'm so sick of being your babysitter! Grow up, you're nearly 18 years old! Stop acting like a child and behave like an adult!" That does it for him.
He acts impulsively, gripping her shoulders and pushing her hard against the wall. Her mouth opens in a silent gasp, his leather jacket falling over both of their feet. "Like an adult?!" He snarls. "What's acting like an adult for you, Nancy? Being nearly thirty years old and being so self-absorbed that you don't even have friends or a boyfriend? Being a workaholic? Not knowing what it's like to have fun?"
He stops, his senses coming back to him, when he notices the tears pooling in her blue eyes. He instantly feels bad. The last time he remembers fighting with her like this, he was 6 and she was 16; he had watched a science experiment on a video, how to make… basically acid, and with the help of his nanny, he had managed to make the concoction. He had wanted to try it out, and the first thing he thought of were Nancy's old dolls. He didn't think she would mind, with her being a teenager and all, but she literally killed him when she got back from school. His mother had punished both of them, him for making acid, and Nancy for hitting him. His nanny had escaped from being fired only because he had cried bloody murder on her behalf.
He comes back to reality when she shoves him away from her. His petite sister had more strength in her than he thought of. But then again, he had underestimated her many times before (hence their mother punishing her for hitting him and actually hurting him).
Nancy doesn't even look at him; she just breathes heavily in the tense silence of the hallway, shaking hands on her face. He feels like an asshole.
"Nance, I'm sorry." He whispers, heart aching with guilt.
She sniffles quietly, pushing hair out of her face, and then she crouches down to grip his jacket. The wind gets knocked out of him when she shoves the leather item against his stomach.
"I've been there for you… every single time," her hands are still pressing the jacket against him, and he can feel her shaking, can hear the tightness in her voice. "Every single time you needed my help, I've been there."
"And I can't thank you enough for it, Nancy," he whispers again, feeling the tremor bubbling up his throat. He really didn't mean to pounce on her like that. That is what he meant when he told El that if he hurt her, it wouldn't be on purpose. But what if this is them one day? What if he loses control and does exactly what he did to Nancy just now? With trembling hands, he reaches out for her, gripping her shoulders again and trying to pull her close. His breath rushes out of him in relief when she lets him hold her. "I'm sorry, Nance. I'm so so sorry." He feels like crying, honestly. "It's just been… so much. So much lately, and I… I'm just sorry, sis."
"You have to get a clear head, Mikey," she whispers quietly, and he finally sniffles when her arms wrap around him, palms on his back. "You're my little brother, and I love you, but I can't protect you from jail, Mike." He hugs her tighter, the lump of his jacket pressing between them, but she doesn't seem to mind and neither does he. "I never asked the reason you beat that man up. Or why you decided to come and live with me. I never ask anything from you, all I ask," she pulls back, leaning her head away so he can see the wetness underneath her eyes and the tears caught in the corners of her mouth. "All I want for you is to be okay. I give you everything you want, I didn't pressure you to finish school, I… freaking pay for your bike and all the shit for it. That's what I work all day for. I give and give and give, but I don't see you giving back."
Her hands fall from him, and he has to slap a palm on his chest to keep his jacket from falling again, but his eyes never leave hers. She wipes her face with slim fingers, nails painted a deep red that looks almost black in the darkness of the apartment. "I need your word. I need you to promise you won't be getting into more trouble. I'm a lawyer, for fuck's sake! How would it look if my little brother goes to jail?"
"I promise, okay?" He rubs his eyes with the back of a hand, ignoring the wetness that clings to his skin. "I promise I'll be good."
"You better, Mike, or I swear to God…" she leaves the warning hanging there, pointing a threatening finger at him. She walks past him, thumping her shoulder against his arm on the way on purpose, and he finds it in him to chuckle slightly. "And by the way," she stops in the entrance of her room, body halfway in. "The fact that I don't bring anyone home doesn't mean I don't have a boyfriend."
She leaves him standing in the middle of the hallway, face frozen in partial shock at her revelation, before he chuckles again. He really underestimates her.
.
.
.
Her hands are shaking. Her fingers tremble with nerves as she plays with her pen, and she tries to get a grip on herself as her name gets near.
"Sophia Gravano," Martin Brenner reads from his list, rolling his pen in a dot when the mentioned girl exclaims "Here" with a raised hand. "Jane Hopper."
"Here." El says, taking the fake attendance justification paper from her table and standing up from her seat. She shares a look with Max, the redhead giving her an encouraging smile, before she walks up to the terrifying teacher.
"Elizabeth Jone—", Brenner cuts himself off, looking up at the brunette girl that is standing expectantly before him. "Miss Hopper?"
"Here, Mr. Brenner." She hands the justification paper to him, giving him an innocent smile, before she turns around with every intention of disappearing inside her seat. But her heart stops when he calls her again.
"Miss Hopper," Brenner says, voice extremely calm in that nerve-wrecking way of his. "This is your mother's signature, isn't it?"
"Yes, sir." She answers with a nod and a slight furrow of her eyebrows. She feels her hands start to sweat and the back of her neck is suddenly on fire.
"Funny," he smiles, and if it was any other teacher, she would've thought he'd really found something amusing, and that smile would've calmed her down. But this is Brenner, so she immediately knows something is up. "I just spoke with her before coming to class and she had no idea of your…" he pauses to read the supposed excuse for her missing attendance. "Stomach bug. Or of your absence on Friday. She's already on her way here."
She feels the eyes of all her classmates on her back, feels the pity and anxiety harden the air around her like ice on a freezer, but the tightness in her throat and the obvious smirk in Brenner's face have her glued to the floor while her stomach clenches.
"I—"
"Miss Hopper," Martin Brenner's smirk falls, the amused mask of indifference melting to reveal the glinting eyes and face of the evil monster he really is. "You broke the rules. Do you realize that what you've done means immediate expulsion from this school?"
She tries to talk, tries to defend herself, even tries to mutter a single 'fuck you' to release some steam on him, but she finds it hard to speak with the ball of bile stuck in her throat. Her vision starts to get blurry from the tears, and the last thing she sees before they start falling is Brenner's satisfied smirk as he watches her crumble.
.
.
.
"Mom," El sobs, chest tight and hands numb from gripping her backpack while she waited outside the Principal's office. With a piercing glare, Terry grips her arm and hauls her off of her seat, dragging her out of the room and into the hallway. "Am I expelled?"
"No," Terry hisses, gripping the strap of her purse with one hand while the other is still dragging El behind her. Her blonde locks are pinned back from her tense face by the pair of dark sunglasses on top of her head, dress shirt slightly wrinkled at the back from being sitting while she spoke with the Principal, and her shoes thump on the marble floors as she stomps through them, her pace quick and angry. "Thanks to a donation of eight thousand dollars that we gave to school, out of pure good heartedness." Her sarcasm is poisonous, nearly spitting the words out at her daughter.
"Mama, I promise—", El starts to say, tears making her voice whiny and pleading, but she's cut short by her mother.
"Shut up, Jane," Terry snaps, stopping in the middle of the hallway to look back at the crying brunette. "Don't start with the promises. Things are going to change from now on, that I promise you."
She doesn't even try to say anything when her mother grips her arm again, pushing her to walk in front of her this time as they continue their walk to the front exit. Her chest rattles with her sobs, her backpack smacking against her side from the awkward angle she's holding it, and she just wants to disappear as her mother continues to angrily lecture her.
"I don't know when you started making a fool out of me behind my back! I don't even recognize you."
"Mama—", El cries pleadingly, looking over her shoulder to try to gain a bit of her mother's sympathy.
"Be quiet!" Terry snarls sharply, the grip on El's upper arm tightening to the point of pain as she pushes her on. "I don't want to hear a word out of your mouth. I don't know if it'll be a lie, and you don't know how much that hurts me, Jane."
Footsteps reach their ears from a hallway further down, and then Max appears, red hair flying in the air as she runs to them.
"El!" The girl gasps, stopping a few feet away as Terry continues to walk. "What happened? I sneaked out of Brenner's to—"
"Stay away, Max." Terry says moodily, brushing past the redhead with a pursed mouth. "And don't call her! She won't be having her phone for a long time." El looks back with a whimper, throwing a suffering look in her best friend's direction and receives a confused but fearful one in return from the redhead.
"She's on it too, isn't she?" Her mother questions sharply, stopping only to push the doors of the school open, and El doesn't even have to think about what she's talking about, because she knows what she means by on it. "Maybe it's time you stop hanging out with her and all the bad influences around you."
The sunlight hits her face as they walk out of school, and the bounce of her body as they descend the long steps have her sobs bubbling out of her mouth as more tears escape, because she knows who her mother is talking about, and the thought of him has her crying even more.
The ride back home is tense, Terry exhaling sharply and snapping at her as El continues to cry softly, trying to muffle her whimpers to herself, and it is then that she realizes how fucked up her mother makes her feel. She ignites a fear so deep inside of her, that she thinks it might be installed into her very bones. What is it about parents that they hold so much control over you? One day you're happily chatting about your day while your mother brushes your hair and hums quietly, and then you're older, crying in the front seat with curls stuck to your wet cheeks as she yells and sends chilling glares in your way.
It's fucked up.
.
.
.
Her day doesn't get any better after that. Her mother didn't even wait for her father to get home, she called him, sitting on his office chair and talking loudly so El could hear every negative thing she had to say about the situation all the way up in her room.
Sara had tried to make her feel better, bringing her a plate of Eggo's with apple juice, before their mother shooed her away and practically declared El in quarantine. Among the great things that El admired about her younger sister is that she never stayed quiet, and the highlight of her day had been Sara yelling back at their mother for being 'an uncomprehensive, hysterical, nerve-wrecking, sunflower-lover, overbearing lieutenant that treated them like child soldiers getting ready for war'. Of course, that had landed the younger blonde in being grounded for a week, but Sara didn't seem worried about it, and she made sure El didn't feel guilty over it.
But she does.
She feels guilty about skipping school with Mike, even though their day at the beach was fantastic, because of all the consequences it brought her. She feels guilty, because no matter how many times she cursed her mother, it always comes back to feeling like shit for disappointing her.
She had always been the perfect daughter, with perfect grades and perfect behavior, all for what? So her mother turns on her at the first mistake she makes?
Fuck that, she thinks as she sobs into her pillow. She hates how drained she feels. Her father had walked inside her room and gave her his own little lecture, but he'd hugged her and told her to calm down, because 'things like that happened in your teenage years', he had said. But she still feels like shit, because there had been a sad curl on the smile he'd given her after that, and no matter how much time she had spent under the shower trying to drown her tears with the water, she still cried when Terry closed her bedroom door with a tense "Go to bed."
"Fuck," she whimpers, burying her face further in into the damp spot on her pillow. "Fuck."
The creak of her bedroom door opening startles her, and she wipes her face hastily so her mother doesn't notice how much it affects her, but when she turns around, it's not Terry standing there.
"Sara?" She frowns as her sister leaves the door ajar, tiptoeing to where she's slumped on her bed like a dramatic Juliet.
"It's him," Sara whispers with a smile, handing El her own cellphone. "Leave it on your vanity and I'll get it back tomorrow morning."
"What?" El frowns again, taking the device from her little sister as she wipes the snot from her face with her other hand. "Sara!"
The younger blonde just gives her a sneaky smile before closing the door and leaving El in all her lonely splendor.
She sniffles, looking down at Sara's giant Moschino Bear phone case and taps the screen to reveal the blinking time of a current call. The number isn't registered on Sara's contact list, but thinking quickly, she practically slaps herself with the spongy case as she holds the phone to her ear. "Mike?" She whispers, cringing when her voice cracks.
"Max told me a teacher is giving you shit at school?" It's the first thing he says, and she feels like crying again when his voice instantly wakes the butterflies in her stomach.
"He tried to get me expelled," she whimpers quietly, eying her door as she stands up from her bed. "My parents had to pay a lot of money to avoid that, but Brenner is practically failing me already, and he told the Principal to put the incident on my school file. This is gonna be a bad stamp on my college applications. Holy crap!" She nearly wails, closing her eyes as the waterfalls threaten to escape again. "I might not even graduate high school!"
She wipes her lower lashline quickly, sniffling to keep herself from crying, and the moment of silence gives her the time to realize that it is silent.
"Mike?" She tries, getting nothing on the other side of the line. "Mike, are you even there?" She huffs, pulling the phone away to check if the call is still on, before placing the damn bear against her ear again. "Why are you even calling me if you're not going to say anything? And why the hell are you panting? I swear, I'm going to hang up on you! How dare you leave me hanging like this? After the day I had? Mike, seriously—"
She manages to bury the scream in her throat, only letting a startled gasp out as her window is suddenly thrown open, and then she's lowering the hand on her mouth as he appears on the other side.
"Are you crazy?!" She yelps quietly, running to put the lock on the door as Mike jumps inside her room, panting as he pushes his curls back from his sweaty forehead. "You're going to wake up my parents! What are you even doing here?"
His only answer is a kiss. He brings his laughing mouth on hers, gripping the sides of her head and letting Sara's phone drop to the carpeted floor of her bedroom with a cushioned thump. As cliché as it sounds, she feels her shoulders ease up from the tense hardness they'd been as he kisses her, relaxing her body with every pull of his lips. He pulls away, her mouth following his for another kiss, not ready to let go of him yet, and he indulges her with a chuckle, claiming her mouth for another quick but deep kiss, before he breaks it.
"Hi." She breathes, a grin on her face, and she rethinks her previous thought. This—him, untamable curls framing his face as the moonlight coming in from her open window encases him in a soft glow, the lines of his broad shoulders gleaming black from the leather of his trademark jacket, and his eyes… the soft puddles of chocolate melting against hers, a spark on the irises as his fingers trace her cheeks—is the highlight of her day.
"Come on." He tugs on her hand, walking backwards to the window.
"Where?" She questions, letting him pull her towards him for a bit before she realizes what he wants. "Wait, no, no!"
"What?" He chuckles, waiting for her response.
She retracts her hand from his, an incredulous laugh getting out of her mouth as she crosses her arms. "I'm not going down there."
He looks over his shoulder, peering down at the lonely and silent street, and then he turns back to her with a nod. "Okay, let me just wake your mom up to let her know we'll be taking the house keys."
"Mike, stop!" She giggles, gripping his arm as he brushes past her, as if he really was going to venture out of her room.
"It's the only way out," his eyes crinkle with a grin as her hand trails up his clothed forearm, her other hand extended to place a raven curl behind his ear. "So, come on."
"No!" She pleads, gripping his elbows as he wraps his arms around her and starts walking to the window again, her feet stumbling between his long legs and her upper body bent backwards. "I'm scared." She pouts, planting her bare feet to make him stop.
"What? But you're brave," he smiles, thumb tracing the line of her lower lip. "You're the bravest girl I've ever met. You're a warrior!"
"Shh," she tries to quiet him down as he exclaims the last part, even though she's giggling too. He leans down to brush his larger nose against hers, nudging them together and then stealing another kiss. "I'm not even dressed." She mumbles against his lips. "I like you just like that." He mumbles back, laughing out a groan as she bites him in return.
"Let's go," he pleads as he leans back, keeping his arms around her and lowering his voice when she peers over his shoulder at the door. "We have a surprise waiting for you."
"We?" El questions with a raised eyebrow.
"Me," he kisses her. "Myself," anther kiss. "And I."
She laughs again, and just the sound of it it's enough to make him happy. "Okay, Mr. Geordie. We are wearing pajamas." She gestures down at her outfit, which consists of a pair of soft, cotton shorts and a light mint shirt.
"You're fine!" He insists, walking past her to open her closet. After a few seconds in which he eyes her clothes, he pulls a random hoodie out. "There. All ready."
"No," she laughs, catching the hoodie and putting it on top of her dresser. "I still need shoes. And a bra. And I don't even know where we're going."
"If I was taking you out for dinner I'd tell you. I don't think they let you in wearing pjs, anyway, so don't worry." Mike laughs, taking a seat at the edge of her bed, bracing his hands on the mattress as he leans back a little, watching her as she opens a drawer. "Though the bra can remain optional…" he drawls, noticing the garment she's pulling out. She looks over her shoulder at him, an amused smirk on her lips and a perfectly groomed eyebrow high on her forehead. "Or not. I think you're going to need it."
"I'm not even going to ask now." She laughs, shaking her head and turning back to the drawer, where she digs through, looking for a comfortable and preferably light toned bra so it's not visible under her light shirt.
She hears him sigh behind her, and she suddenly wonders how is she going to put the bra on when he's right there. She bites her lip, thinking on going inside the bathroom, but it seems silly. He's seen her in her underwear, touched her beneath the line of her panties, and she can't deny the fact that changing in front of him kind of… thrills her. So she tries not to look like she just spent five entire minutes debating over that as she lifts her shirt off and removes it from around her head, placing it next to the hoodie.
Her skin erupts in goosebumps, the light air coming in through the window pebbling her nipples and making the hairs on her arms rise. She tries not to grin as she hears him turn completely quiet, the song he'd been humming dead on his throat.
Mike would be lying if he said the sight of her didn't wake a certain part of him. His fingers clench lightly on her bedspread, his eyes sharper now as he takes in the naked skin of her back. He can see some freckles on her shoulders, a small mole bellow her left shoulder blade, and it is so light that he hadn't noticed it, never had the time or the opportunity to admire her so closely before. He swallows, watching the way her muscles move underneath her skin as she grabs a light lavender bra. His interest is peaked again, this time in a boy-curiosity kind as he watches her put it on. Her arms go behind her back, gripping the sides of the bra and joining the pieces of fabric there, fingers on the hooks as she clasps it on. Then he watches the journey of the thin straps as she pulls an arm inside one, and then her other hand is pushing it up on her shoulders. Fascinated, he continues to observe her as she adjusts her breasts inside the undergarment, or at least that's what he thinks she's doing from the movements of her arms.
El smiles to herself, trying to calm the wild beat of her heart as she walks to her closet. Still in just a bra and shorts, she crouches down to pull some shoes out. She throws a look over her shoulder, catching his eyes and they both chuckle together, nerves bleeding out of their lips in the form of laughter. She wants to feel like this again, wants to feel the thrill of being so close to him and knowing that just some pieces of fabric are the only thing keeping their bodies from touching.
She pulls some slide-on sandals, wiggling her feet in them and righting herself up once they're on. She pulls her shirt over her head, followed by the hoodie, and then she's ready to go.
She walks over to him, standing between his legs as he pulls her close. Letting the fact that, for once, she's the one that has to lean down, amuse her, she threads her fingers through his hair, joining their lips in a soft peck. El leans back, biting her lip to keep the smile on her face from reaching worrying lengths as he stays with his eyes closed for a moment.
"Done?" Mike asks quietly, blinking his eyes open from the kiss. Her hair is stuck inside the hoodie, and he reaches out to pull it out, pushing his fingers into the roots at the nape of her neck.
"Yeah," she whispers, fingers still tangled in his curls. "Done."
His hand trails down her back from her neck, caressing the length of her body, and then he rests it on the plump curve of her butt. He wants to touch it ever since that first night in the races. And by the way she sighs into his mouth as she leans down kiss him again, he kind of thinks she wants him to. He squeezes, his eyebrows lowering further down as she lets out a surprised moan and leans into him.
But he knows they won't be getting out of her house if they stay there longer. So, against his needy little instinct, he releases the globe of her ass and breaks the kiss, sharing her breath as they pant a little.
Their eyes lock, and she bites her lip again when she notices his are darker. She wonders if hers are too, but then he's standing up, gripping her hips.
"Come on." He says, clearing his throat a little when his voice comes out a bit husky.
El groans as he reaches the window, and he has the nerve to laugh while he crosses one leg through it. "I'm going to die."
"No, you're not, dramatic ugly faced fish. That's why I'm going first."
"Oh," she looks down as he jumps out of the window, gripping the bars underneath it. "I thought you just wanted to see my great ass up close. And fyi, that nickname is getting old."
"Well, that too, but it's mostly so I can catch you like the historical hero I am, in case you fall." He grins up at her, hooking a foot on the crease in the wall.
"Wait, don't go so fast." She exclaims in panic, realizing he's nearly on the first floor's wall and she's still in her room.
"Then you better start climbing, doll."
She swears she can feel her gut yelling inside her head, but she knows it's just her inner fearful voice. So with trembling hands and her heart in her throat, she throws a leg out of the window, instantly crying out in fear as the chilly air hits her face and her body bobs without any surface on the other side to hold her.
"Relax, I'm right here." Mike exclaims, patiently waiting just a few feet under her.
She imitates him, gripping the bars under the window and feeling around with her foot while she throws her other leg out. She nearly screams when Mike grabs her foot, moving it a bit further to the left and placing it right in the crease.
"There you go, now start climbing down from there. Use your nails, there are some creases to your right where you're gonna put your hands, okay?"
"It's that easy, huh?" She snaps sarcastically, feeling around for the creases he said, closing her eyes when she feels her body go down with gravity.
"Yup, sure is. Your ass looks great, by the way."
"Shut up, Michael!" She exclaims in frustration, continuing to move down the wall as he laughs.
.
.
.
"Where are we?" El asks with a frown, eying the dark hallway they're currently walking through. They had parked behind a big building, Mike leading her inside through a heavy oak door after they crossed a fence. There are lockers on the sides, turned off lamps hanging from the ceiling, and their footsteps echo on the tiled floors. "Wait, is this a school?" She wonders as they pass a door with a plaque that reads '135'.
"It sure is, El." He grins over his shoulder, pulling her to the right, where they find a set of double doors.
"Mike," she hisses, gripping his hand as he tries the handles and curses when he realizes they're locked. "We're trespassing! This isn't the kind of surprise I was expecting!"
"Relax," he tells her calmly, pulling a set of keys from his pocket, the one that he'd used to open the first door and that now she was suspicious about. "It's not the first time we do this."
"That's really not relaxing at all! I was nearly expelled today, I don't want to add arrested to that!"
"You're being a real party pooper right now, babe." He mutters, unlocking a door and throwing it open for her. He gestures with a hand, letting her in first and closing the door behind them. It's a gym. Even in the darkness, she can see the floors are a clear wood color, gleaming clean and certainly waxed.
"What are we doing here, Mike?" She questions seriously, gripping his hand again when he starts pulling her across the gym.
He sighs, stopping by the end of one of the bleachers. "I told you to relax, okay? Chill," he pushes some of her curls behind her ear, her hair frizzy because of the ride here. "I wouldn't do anything to put you any kind of danger, you know that, right?"
She shifts on her feet, pulling her hands inside the hoodie's front pocket as she looks at him. "Yes," she nods reluctantly, letting him take her hand out and hold it. "I know."
"Great," he pulls her head close and kisses her temple. "Because this is all for you." He gives her a carefree smile, teasingly pinching her nose and resuming their walk as she sighs behind him. Sometimes she feels like he doesn't realize he could get in real trouble. But he kind of has been in real trouble already. The whole thing with that man, his mom, all the anger issues, the charges Mr. Holland pressed against him… and on top of that, her own mother wanting to sue his ass for just dating her. After all that, she can see why he chooses to ignore his surroundings and just live his life the way he wants it to, with the people he chooses to do it with.
She comes back to reality when he pushes another set of double doors, these leading to what looks to be the gym's locker room.
Mike steps inside one random row, touching the lockers with a finger on each door until he gets to one of the last ones. He grins, turning to look at her with his hand resting on the metal door. "This was mine."
She makes a shocked sound, a mix of a gasp and a gurgle, and he starts to laugh while he pushes her to the end of the main hallway. "This is your old school?"
"Yeah," he shrugs, leading her to another door. "Lucas and I used to go here. That's why I've got the keys." He grins as he takes the keys out, shaking them in the air before he inserts one in the lock.
"How did you even get those? And why are there so many doors in here?"
"Eh, we have a friend… well, it's kind of lame that one of our old teachers is a friend, but he is. Anyway, he really liked me and once upon a time—and don't tell anyone of this, or else I'll have to mysteriously disappear you—I was a giant ass nerd who was president of the AV Club."
"Whaaaaat?" El interrupts with a teasing laugh, gripping his waist with both hands as he unlocks the door and leads her outside.
"Yeah, I know, shut up. Mr. Clarke gave me a copy of the master keys because I used to stay after school, and even though I stopped coming he didn't ask for them back, so I kept them."
She hears splashing before she sets her eyes on the huge windows in front of them. If it wasn't see-through, she would've sworn it was a green house. The design was like one, the walls made of thick glass with iron bars holding them together.
"Remind me to ask more about your past later on." She tells him as she spots water and something else. Even though their reflection was blurry, she could always recognize her best friend's fiery hair.
"Hey, look who decided to show up!" Mike shouts with a grin as he drags El by the hand. They enter through the wide open door, a smile instantly lighting up her face as Lucas and Max spring apart inside the pool.
"Hi!" Max screams excitedly, swimming to the edge to grin up at El. "I was really hoping you'd come!"
"I thought you wouldn't," Lucas pipes in, bobbing up in the water behind Max. "After the day you had."
"I told you she would." Mike answers him, throwing her a smile as he walks to a chair propped against one of the walls, the mess (clothes, shoes and some bottles of what she assumes is alcohol) that could only belong to the couple in the water thrown all over the furniture.
"Oh, damn," Lucas groans suddenly, plopping his face on Max's wet shoulder. "I bet him 20 dollars I don't have!"
"Hey, the gym's doors were closed, asshat! I thought I told you to leave them open for us." Mike tells Lucas, throwing him an annoyed look.
"We didn't come in from there," he answers, twirling in a circle in the water. "The easiest way in is from the back, obviously, so we just jumped the fence. You were the one who decided to unlock all the damn doors like a Mario level, which means you're an idiot, asshat."
El laughs, sharing an amused look with Mike over her shoulder, who's shrugging off his leather jacket and putting it on top of what looks to be Max's The Weeknd t-shirt.
"Well, come on!" The redhead calls, curling her arms around Lucas' neck as he swims them to the middle of the large pool. "Get in!"
"Oh…" She looks down at herself, glaring at Mike when he comes to stand next to her. "I didn't bring a bathing suit. You could've told me we were going to a pool!"
"But where is the fun in that?" Lucas yells, going back to kissing Max as soon as he finishes speaking.
"Come on." Mike wraps his arms around her waist, pulling her up an inch from the floor. She gasps when he bucks behind her, her feet dangerously close to the water. "Mike, no!"
"I've thrown you in a pool before," he laughs against her ear. "It was fun, wasn't it?"
"No, no, it wasn't! Mike, stop!" She laughs, looking at him over her shoulder and making a serious face so he gets that she's being serious.
"It's okay," Mike laughs, letting her back on her feet and pulling her with him to the chair holding everyone's things. "I don't have one either. We'll just have to get in naked."
"What?" She exclaims scandalized, looking back to see if the other two are skinny dipping and nearly chokes when she doesn't see any fabric on Max's neck.
Mike barks a laugh out, hugging her to himself. "I'm kidding, El!"
"Are they naked?" She whispers against his chest, turning her head to keep on scrutinizing the couple in the pool.
"No," he chuckles on her hair. "At least, I don't think so. They're probably in their underwear, which is what we're wearing too."
"What? Mike, no." She pulls away, pouting slightly as he takes his shirt off. It's not fair how distracting he is, and by the way he grins at her, he knows it.
"Hurry up! The water is delicious!" Max shouts at them, beckoning her with a smile.
"If you don't get in in the next ten seconds you'll be the one owing me 20 bucks!" Lucas threatens, jerking his chin at Mike.
"Okay, okay, we're going!" He chuckles, flipping his best friend off. He unbuttons his jeans, toeing his shoes off with a pointed look in her direction, and then he's flinging the pants away, pulling his socks off quickly. He makes a show of organizing his clothes, folding them neatly on the chair while he stands in just his red boxers, before grabbing her abruptly.
"No, Mike, don't!" She yelps as he throws her over his shoulder.
"Yes, Mike, do! Drop her in!" Lucas cheers, pumping a fist in the air while he holds Max to him with his other arm.
"I'm going to kill you." El threatens, sighing in relief when he plops her back on the ground.
"You have 5 seconds," Mike warns, patting her ass quickly before he runs full speed away from her. "Fishes belong in the water!"
She can't help but laugh as he disappears under water, splashing Max and Lucas and sending waves all over the pool, water slipping over the edges.
"Come on, Ellie," Max holds a hand out, a pleading look on her face. "It's just us!"
And it is just them. Max has seen her naked before, countless sleepovers full of curiosity while growing up in their teens and their friendship over the years made for a bunch of peek-a-boos (accident or not), so it's not like she feels awkward around her. And Mike… Mike, who has seen her in her underwear like four times already, who only an hour ago was watching her change. The only one who she should feel a bit uncomfortable with him seeing her practically bare is Lucas, but the more she thinks about it, the more she realizes she doesn't feel awkward. There's nothing stopping her from doing this, except for herself, and after mentally going through her shitty day, she feels like she deserves this.
"Take it off! Take it off!" Mike chants teasingly when she starts to remove her clothes, making her laugh. The fun vibe around her helps her loosen up more, so she undresses as fast as she can, biting her lip in uneasiness when she approaches the edge of the pool.
"Do a cannon ball!" Lucas urges, spluttering with water when he dips his chin too low.
Her shriek echoes all over the place as she jumps, the water surrounding her five senses immediately as she goes down. It's cold, the temperature making her shiver and the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, but she doesn't get the chance to feel it too much as she kicks to the surface.
Coughing, she pops her head out of the water to see Max's laughing face. The redhead's loud laughter is infectious, and out of sheer incredulity, she starts laughing too.
If she looked back at six months ago when all of this started, she knows her old self would be appalled to find her in a school pool, after hours, in her underwear, with two boys and Max for company. Hell, she wouldn't even be here.
But right now she can't find it in herself to be weirded out. She holds onto Mike's neck when he swims to her, grabbing her bare waist under water and lifting her legs to hold onto his hips.
Out of nowhere, Lucas reappears with two bottles of what looks to be wine. She definitely notices the lack of the alcohol by the chair, and she giggles through her shivering when the boy starts drinking, Mike shoving his arm while he takes the other bottle from him, and accidentally spilling some wine in the pool. Her giggle turns into a full on bark of laughter when Lucas starts sipping the water, trying to recover the lost alcohol, and he stops only when Max actually slaps the back of his head.
She watches as her redheaded best friend sips from the bottle, and then peers down at Mike when he releases one arm from her. He's holding her on his left one so he can peel the wrapper off, tearing the metal cap with his teeth. Their eyes meet as he chugs greedily, and a glint starts lighting up his irises as he swallows and pulls the bottle away.
"Want to try it?" He murmurs, a rasp on his voice and a slight tug on his lips that she knows will turn into a smirk when she takes the bottle.
He jostles her a bit when she has it in her hand, adjusting her weight and wrapping both arms around her again. She inspects the label, and although it isn't the first time she's tasted wine, it isn't the Bricco Pernice her parents had let her sip from. Still, the cheap wine is rich, flavorful and just alcoholic enough to make her mouth sting, the heaviness of it clouding her tongue and making her grimace.
Sure enough, Mike is smirking like an asshole when she manages to pry her eyes open, and she tries to change that by shoving the bottle's mouth into his lips. He takes the wine from her with a hearty chuckle, nearly choking from it and sending her into a fit of laughter.
Behind them, Max shrieks when Lucas lifts her up and dumps her underwater, her red hair disappearing beneath the surface as he laughs like a mad-man. When she returns from her trip bellow, they fight for the bottle like a couple of toddlers, and it's only when El shouts at them to share nicely, they snort and kiss to make up.
Overall, they spent the better part of the night drinking and splashing each other with water, playing chicken and making out with their respective partner once the alcohol is gone. That fueled them to be a bit past tipsy, not intoxicated enough to say drunk, but definitely light-headed and more playful.
It's then when El and Mike are kissing, a few feet away from Lucas and Max for some privacy, that things start to heat up between them again.
Their tongues are in each other's mouth, her thighs draped over his hips loose enough to have room for his thrusts, and his hands roaming all over her body. His hips buck to meet hers lazily, rolling up to press their pelvises together with enough pressure to feel something. She's moaning quietly, tightening her hold on him as he swallows her sounds, and she has to break the kiss from the intensity she's feeling. When she blinks her eyes open, he's watching her. He thrusts up against her again, his eyes darkening when she takes a shaky breath, and without breaking eye contact, he lowers his mouth to her neck. His lips brush on her skin, getting lower and lower until he's mouthing the tops of her breasts, his chin on the cups of her bra. Her hand is in a fist, clutching the back of his wet hair, her elbow on his shoulder.
She's so out of it that it kind of surprises her she has the will to stop.
"Wait," she pants, gripping his jaw with both thumbs, pushing his head up from her chest. "Wait. I have to tell you something."
He looks really aroused, pupils wide and dark, and as he leans in to kiss her, she realizes she rather likes the way he looks like that. It has reached a point in where she can't deny that she wants the physical part of a relationship now. She wants him. And she's not afraid to admit it to herself or him anymore.
"What is it?" He murmurs against her lips, tugging her closer as he breathes harshly against her skin.
But as much as she likes seeing him like this, she needs him to listen. So she pulls his chin up, forcing his head back so his eyes can take her face in.
"Mike," she starts, nibbling on her lip with nerves as Lucas starts to laugh somewhere behind them. "I… I've never… I've never been with anyone… like that."
I'm a Virgin! El wants to shout, but the word seems kind of silly to her, so she settles for what she already said.
His face softens, the dark eyes easing up the tightness in the corners and his lips tugging up a bit. She relaxes, somehow. She was kind of sure he already knew, but it didn't hurt to remind him of it, right?
"Me neither." Mike answers, shrugging a shoulder for good emphasis, and his statement is so ridiculous that she can't help but throw her head back in laughter.
"You absolute liar!" She grins, laughing more when his eyes crease with amusement. He lets her get off from him, floating on her own, but he still steps up to grab her face and kiss her.
"El!" Max interrupts with a yell, her pale face shining with water and mirth. "El! This lunatic just asked me to marry him!" Lucas has her by the waist, his dark face gleaming wet and a giant smile on his lips. El knows Lucas is very much a clown, but the soft and vulnerable way in which he shrugs his shoulders sheepishly to confirm the redhead's words has her knowing he really does mean it. And well, she doesn't blame him one bit. Max is such a catch, and she's not saying it just because she's her best friend, but because she is. And the way Lucas is completely smitten with her is concrete proof of it.
"What?" El laughs out in happy surprise, pulling away from Mike to reach her best friend.
"Lucas, that's awesome!" Mike shouts, catching the other boy when he throws himself at Mike. Both begin to talk in that fast and uncomprehensive way of them that only they understand, but in the meanwhile, El focuses back on the redhead in her arms.
"Oh my God!" She giggles against Max's hair, clutching the freckled girl against her.
And that's how their night goes. Mike drilling Lucas about wedding plans while both girls laugh and tease sometimes, letting the boys play around for a bit. Somehow, Max decides to have a photoshoot, and Mike and Lucas pose for her in a 'very manly no homo, bro' way, but they end up getting photos of them kissing each other on the cheek and holding one another like an old married couple. El laughs until her throat feels scratchy, feeling enormously full, like she could burst at any moment, of love. Love for these three people that have taken a giant chunk of her heart. She feels at ease, like this is what she's meant to be like.
And a soft laugh tumbles out of her when Mike grabs her and pulls her down with him. "For old time's sake." He'd mumbled in her ear. She has to pinch her lips together to keep the water out of her mouth when he takes them deep underwater. She wants to laugh again, her hair a wild mane around her face as each strand gets separated with the movement in the water. He reaches for her, pulling her close and touching their bodies together while the bubbles cover their arms. He kisses her then; not the frantic Frenching they'd been doing just moments ago, but the sweet kind of kiss that pulls at your lips and at the strings of your heart.
They keep kissing, even as the water does its job and starts levitating them to the surface; even when they gasp for air once they're out, their lips stay together, eyes closed and heartbeats thumping against each other.
And she decides that this ends up being the highlight of her day.
A/N: Hey, guys! Happy Friyay! Take a shot every time I wrote 'water' in this chapter. Sorry for not updating sooner (yes, I'm already off from school, yes, I know I'm an asshole for not updaing sooner now that I have more time), but because I'm such a good daughter, I had to help my mom with her kid's evaluations (she's a kindergarden teacher). My hand has been cramped since last week, I swear. Like, hello? Mexican Education System? Can you guys make it easier for the teachers and let them make their evaluations in a computer? Thx.
Anyway, I hope I make it up to you with this long chapter. Lol, I used to fake my mom's signature so much when I was younger because my teachers would send her notes telling on me (the perks of your grandma past-working in your school and all the teachers knowing your family, amirite?), and I got caught many times too, so I relate to El's desperation in this chapter. Also, fun fact: I had the Moschino Bear phone case and I adored it with my whole being, but then I switched to the iPhone 7 and it doesn't fit anymore! *cries in Spanish*