Hello, everyone! Welcome to Chapter 39... I can't believe we are one away from forty! I apologize for the wait with this one. I've been busy with other things in my personal life, but I was able to squeeze this one out this afternoon. We have some more trouble for our beloved characters in this one, so brace yourselves...

Mikeleven83: Thank you!

KennyRogers02: I can tell you for sure that El will not be getting her powers back in this fic outright. However, I can't promise that there won't be any hints or small little teases that her powers are still around. I have an idea for a later chapter that does involve her powers. I'm looking forward to writing it :) And thank you! I'm glad that the OC characters are connecting with you.

Jbg: Thank you so much! I'm toying with some ideas about Karen's future in this story, there may be some ways that I incorporate her into the story in the future. And that's such a coincidence! If you see me getting anything wrong in this story, please tell me, just for my own benefit. I'd love to hear your thoughts on future chapters when it comes to this. Take care :)

Shrike176: I knoww :( El can never get a break, can she? There's definitely a lot of thoughts going on with her, especially with her new family, Mike, etc. She's a very in-depth character. Will's first day was interesting, but I'm looking forward to exploring him and Spencer's dynamic. And the phone call stuff is really over my head, all I know is that by Christmas time they'll be able to talk to each other freely XD Hope you enjoy the chapter!

Luna0603: Thank you! Spencer is an interesting dude, but there's nothing suspicious about him. He just really enjoys following news and politics, haha. The phone call situation is tough, I agree. I can't say that these next few chapters will be exactly chock-full of Mileven, but I can promise that when Thanksgiving comes, it will be Mileven-central :) Thanks for the review on Trapped, I'm probably going to start working on the next chapter soon!

the Mandalorian terminator: Thanks! I look forward to developing Joyce and El more in this fic. We will have to see how things go in school for Will and his new friend, though. Enjoy the chapter!

The days following the move had been long and slow. It seemed as though with El's absence in his life, things were so dull. Mike missed being able to look forward to going to the cabin after school, or just spending the entire afternoon with her in the Byers house. Now it was just one measly phone call a day, and it was killing him. And the worst part was that he couldn't just tell himself to not worry about it because "he'd be seeing her on the weekend," or something. He'd be seeing her at Thanksgiving, nearly a month away.

On top of that, it seemed as though Troy had gotten nastier to him. Thankfully it was Friday, so he'd have two days to get a break from it. They had started a basketball unit in gym, and while Mike was a good runner, he couldn't play basketball (or most sports, for that matter) for shit. And Troy had made it his mission to point out every mistake and fumble he made. It had made things a lot more annoying, especially in the locker room.

At least he and his goons seemed to be leaving the rest of his friends alone. Although, they had been since the semester started. They shared no courses with Troy, and his friends really only seemed to do anything when he was around. From what he saw, it seemed like they occupied their break by smoking cigarettes behind the school.

The saving grace of the week was Dustin. He had told him the other day that the radio tower he had been working on was ready to be installed. It would be going in the backyard, and his Mom had already given the thumbs-up. But there had been a drawback, unfortunately. He would have to wait until the visit at Thanksgiving to get the radio tower installed at the Byers house. So they would have to rely on his "once-a-day" phone call with El. Which was growing quite tedious. It was hard to have an enjoyable conversation with the girl you love with your sister breathing down your neck and your Mom staring at you expectantly, waiting to hang up the phone because "the long-distance calls are expensive, Michael."

Mike's classes were also going very well, though (so far). He had gotten a math test back recently and got nearly perfect on it. His grade had been the highest in the class, but thankfully not many kids were eager to talk about their marks. He didn't want to be known as the "nerd" as he had been in middle school.

Although, it was like Max said; nobody seemed to care. Everyone just did their own thing, and he seemed to be left alone. Thank God. So what if people knew he was smart? A month into the semester, and it seemed evident that there were no Troys in any of his other classes. The only time he ever had to deal with shit in school was his final period of the day, gym.

His train of thought came to an end when he opened his front door and stepped into the house. It was a lot warmer in the house; the weather had been gradually cooling down for the last month. It was definitely sweater weather. Halloween was coming in a few weeks, too, which was sort of exciting.

"Hi, Michael," his mom greeted him when he walked into the living room. "How was your day?"

"Normal," he replied, his voice flat. "The same reply I give you every day, Mom," he added, a hint of attitude in his voice.

Karen raised her eyebrows. She was more than accustomed to living with a sarcastic teenage boy; she had been since he was thirteen. Karen had been a teenager once, she was familiar with their tendencies. She raised her hands in the air in mock surrender and shrugged. "Okay, okay," she replied dismissively. "Dinner will be on the table in a couple of hours, alright?"

"Yup," Mike deadpanned, already walking up the stairs to his room. He had barely even heard what she had said, but didn't really care. He quickly walked upstairs and let his schoolbag drop on the floor, and closed the door louder than he had intended.

Mike had no idea why, but he was finding himself… upset. Pissed off. At everything. At life, at school, at Troy, at whatever. But at the same time, he couldn't for the life of him identify one single exact thing that was causing him to feel this way. Under normal circumstances, the thing that he would do to cheer himself up or get his mind off things was talking to El. But of course, that wasn't an option.

The whole damn week had been like this; it felt like everything was moving in slow motion, and it had been that way since the Byers had left. Even with Will gone, it felt like some key part of the party was missing. Especially considering that, arguably, he was his best friend. They had been inseparable ever since kindergarten (besides that period of time with El and all that drama). Every since the swing set in kindergarten.

He wasn't sure if the rest of the Party shared similar sentiments, but he had a feeling that they did. Things had definitely been slightly...awkward? Different? He wasn't quite sure what word to use. But the dynamic had definitely shifted between all of them, and maybe for the worse. It was odd, and he didn't like it. It felt like everyone was being pulled apart.

Lucas lay in his bed, beside Max, breathing heavily. They had been… doing stuff. Not sex. They weren't at that point yet. But they had been doing a lot more experimenting, more exploring. It was nice, but unfortunately not a frequent activity. Mainly because Max's house was constantly off-limits for them, but that wasn't because of Neil anymore. Max was just scared to bring Lucas up with her Mom.

And Lucas had really strict parents that he really didn't want to talk about a girlfriend with. But now that they were in high school, maybe they could start talking about being more open to their parents with their relationship.

He'd talk about it later with Max, though. There was a deeper issue on his mind currently. In fact, there had been something on his mind for the last week. It was just… he felt weird. Ever since the Byers and El moved away, the Party had felt… broken. Kind of. He wasn't sure exactly why it was, but whenever they hung out now it felt like there was a piece of the puzzle missing. He hadn't anticipated what them moving would do to the group.

Maybe they were all just caught up in their own feelings. Surely it wouldn't be like this permanently, right? Things would get better.

"Are you okay?" Max's voice cut through his train of thought suddenly. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked beside him, and met Max's deep blue eyes, a concerned glint in them.

"What do you mean?" he asked, feigning confusion.

Max gave him a look at said really? "You've been silent for like ten minutes. What're you thinking about?" she pressed.

"Ten minutes?" Lucas repeated in disbelief. "We've been lying here for that long?"

"Well, yeah, since we… finished," she replied, smiling with a hint of mischief at the thought of what they had been up to before. "So?" she asked again when he didn't immediately reply.

"I've been thinking about… stuff," Lucas sighed, folding his hands behind his head and leaning against the backboard of his bed. Max pulled the sheets up to cover her naked breasts and scootched closer to him.

"What stuff?"

Lucas shrugged, staring into space. "Have you felt that… ever since Will and El left,

everyone always seems so sad and upset? Everything feels so… depressing," he explained.

Max looked incredulous. "What, are you not upset?" she questioned.

"No, no, no," he clarified hurriedly. "I just don't like how everything seems so… different. It feels like someone died or something, and no one is talking about it."

Max puffed out her cheeks and exhaled, snuggling closer into Lucas's torso. "I know, but I guess it'll just take time to get used to. I mean, I was never really close to Will or anything, but it sucks that El is gone. She was like, the only girlfriend I had in this town. Things are bound to be kind of… emotional, I guess."

Lucas shrugged his shoulders again. "I guess so," he murmured. "I just wish that none of this ever had to happen."

"I know," Max agreed, her voice soft. "I guess we'll see how next week goes. Hopefully, things look up."

"And what if they don't?"

Max looked at Lucas. "They will, okay? It's only been less than a week. Things will go back to normal soon."

It was Monday morning, and Mike was not looking forward to going to school. His weekend had been sluggish, mostly filled with homework and helping Dustin install the radio tower in his yard, which had been an astronomical undertaking. Dustin had shown him how to operate it himself and how it worked so that he would know how to fix something, should something go wrong. It had been kind of bittersweet setting it up; it gave him a glimpse that one day that he'd be able to talk to El for as long as he wanted. But at the same time he knew it would be months before they could actually do that, which left an overwhelmingly sour taste in his mouth.

Speaking of sour… school. Ugh. Another week of quiet lunches with the party, blinding amounts of homework, and endless berating from Troy and his goons. Which only seemed to get worse with every passing day ever since the move happened. Quite a coincidence, when he thought about it.

He inhaled his breakfast of Eggos (he couldn't help but think about El as he ate them), eagerly waiting for the phone to ring. He had been getting up extra early to make more time for him and El to talk, in spite of his Mom's constant complaints regarding the long-distance charges that they would be getting. Whatever. As long as I get to talk to her.

As if on queue, the high pitched shrill of the phone sounded from the wall by the edge of the kitchen and Mike was up in a flash to answer it. "Careful, Mike," Karen absent-mindedly called from the living room. "You don't want to twist your ankle running across the house…"

"Okay, Mom," Mike replied with an eye roll, already taking the phone off the hook on the wall and putting it to his ear. "Hello?" he said, his tone changing instantly, anticipating the voice on the other line.

"Hey, you," El greeted. Mike could practically hear the smile on her face.

"El," he replied, his heart clenching. She always felt so close, yet so far during moments like these. "I miss you."

El giggled. "That's the first thing you say every day," she pointed out.

Mike smiled sadly. "I know," he said. "I just can't help it."

He heard El sigh on the other end. "Me, too." There was a pause. "How was your week ?"

Mike exhaled and rubbed his fingers up and down the phone wire. "Uhh… okay," he finally replied after a slight amount of hesitation.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her voice laced with worry. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Mike replied hurriedly. He didn't want her worrying over him. El was the one who was in the toughest situation out of everyone. It seemed stupid to even compare his hardships to her.

"Friends don't lie," she stated, the famous line instantly registering in Mike's mind.

"Nothing is wrong, really, I guess… things have just been hard, El. Without you. And Will. It feels like everything is falling apart."

"What do you mean?"

Mike suddenly felt everything from the week flood into his mind, clouding his vision. All the aching and pain and the missing his best friend and El was so strong it almost knocked him over. He found himself fighting tears as he spoke. "Everyone is so quiet all the time, El. Eating lunch with everyone is like… silent. And Troy won't leave me alone either-"

"Troy? What's going on with Troy?" El interrupted him, feeling a fire in her veins, vividly remembering how he almost killed Mike all that time ago.

"He's just being his regular asshole self, is all," he muttered, rubbing his wet eyes. He looked behind him to double-check his mom wasn't eavesdropping on their conversation. He always had to remain extra wary when he spoke on the phone with his girlfriend because his mom still didn't even know about El's existence. Not to mention he didn't fancy the idea of his mom catching him crying. But thankfully, usually his mom went upstairs when him and Nancy talked on the phone to give them privacy.

"But I thought that he had been leaving you alone mostly since school started?" she asked.

"He was," Mike admitted. "But ever since you left, he's just been up my ass every gym period."

"Have you been-"

"I've been trying to handle it, yes," he cut her off, almost snapping at her. "But they don't care. And there's only so many times that I can be like 'yeah, well, remember when that girl broke your arm?' Or 'remember when you pissed yourself?'"

El didn't even know what to say. "Well-"

"And it's not like the class hasn't figured out that I'm the guy who can't play sports for shit," he continued, his voice rising. "Sure, I can run pretty well and do a fair amount of push-ups, but I'm a joke compared to everyone else in actual team sports. And everyone's recognized by now that Troy is the best, so they all like him now-"

"Mike, stop," El interrupted him firmly. Mike halted mid-word like a car hitting a brick wall. "I know I've never been to school, so I don't know exactly what you're going through, but I do know that you need to do something about Troy. Like, actually do something."

Mike's mouth dropped open slightly. Was she suggesting that he fight Troy, or something? "What do you mean?" he questioned.

El was quiet for a second. "I don't know, punch him or something. Hard. Hurt him," her voice had fire in it, he could hear it. It didn't often come out, but when it did, it was obvious. And kind of scary, too, if he was honest.

"El, I can't do that, he'd kill me," he replied matter-of-factly. "He's probably forty pounds heavier than me."

"So punch him hard enough that he won't be able to hit you back," she said coldly through gritted teeth.

"And what, get expelled from the school? My parents would kill me!"

"No, they wouldn't. They'd probably be happy for you for being hurting that… piece of fucking shit," she spat, her voice dripping with venom.

Mike sighed. "I don't know… he'd probably end up hurting me worse."

"It's better than dealing with this for the rest of the semester, Mike," she said flatly.

She has a point, I guess, Mike thought. "I'll… try to do something. I promise," he resolved. And he was serious. I think.

"What did you say about everyone else?" El asked, remembering what her boyfriend had also said.

"Oh, yeah…" Mike said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I don't know, it'll probably pass. Everyone's just been feeling really… distant, I guess. From everyone. It's like something changed. Well, something did change, but like, everything is so… sad now. It always feels like everyone is upset."

El pondered for a moment. She had understood when her and Will left that it would shift the dynamic in the party. They had essentially decreased the number of Party members in Hawkins by a third. But she didn't like to hear that everyone was also suffering. She had been thinking the whole time that she was the only one who had been upset. It was kind of comforting to know that she wasn't the only one dealing with these emotions, but at the same time, she didn't want the rest of her friends to be in any kind of pain.

"I understand," she finally replied. "It's like that here, too. Jonathan and Will, they've been… distant. But I think it's just… people are getting used to it, is all."

"Adjusting, yeah," Mike agreed. "I hope."

Mike came to the lunch table along with Dustin, Lucas, and Max, already feeling the unsettling sense of incompleteness as he sat down. "Hey," he casually greeted, his voice plain.

"Hey," Lucas and Dustin both said at the same time, and Max merely nodded at him through a mouth full of food.

"How was your guys' mornings?" Lucas asked.

"Fine," Dustin replied, not saying anything else.

"It was okay," Mike answered. He knew only a few hours ago he had been telling El about how somber everything had been between the Party since they left. The logical thing to do was for him to try to start some conversation. He fully acknowledged that, for sure. But it was just that he found himself not even wanting to talk. It wasn't known to him why; maybe because no one seemed to be in the mood. But it wasn't like he really had anything to say. It was like he had told El: something was different now.

Maybe it was just him, but Max and Lucas seemed to talk a lot less nowadays. Maybe it was just when him and Dustin were around. He knew that they still hung out pretty frequently, just the two of them. So they were probably still doing fine. He hoped, for both of their sakes, that this was the case.

"I got an eighty on my math test from last week," Max announced proudly. "The one that you helped me study for, Stalker," she added, a teasing smile playing at her lips.

"Oh, that's great!" Lucas replied, beaming. Mike looked at Max, and they shared a happy expression for a brief moment before she turned back Lucas. Max's strong suit wasn't really academics, but after failing her first test, she had vowed to start trying harder in school and studying more (which Lucas had been happy to assist her with). Mike was proud of his friend.

"Wow, good job," Dustin said, his voice mocking. "You got a passing grade for once."

The table fell silent as everyone turned to Dustin. "Excuse me?" Max asked incredulously. Mike furrowed his brow and continued to stare at his friend beside him, bewildered. Had he heard that right? Had Dustin actually said that?

"What, did you not hear me?" he snapped again, leaning forward in his chair. He squinted his eyes challengingly. "No one cares about your fucking eighty on simple math quiz."

Lucas's jaw dropped and he stared at his friend, bewildered. "Do you have a stick up your ass or something, Dustin?" Max seethed, her expression growing darker by the second.

"No, I don't, I've just gotten sick of your constant whining about math. And now that you finally have a good grade, it's like it's your favorite subject or something."

Max scoffed. "I didn't even say that! I was just-"

"Okay, hold on!" Lucas interjected loudly. "Let me cut things off right here."

The redhead stopped mid-sentence, but continued glaring at Dustin, her eyes ablaze. The

only person who she would ever let interrupt her like that was Lucas, so she stayed quiet, wanting to at least hear what he had to say. "Look, I'm not gonna sit here and listen to this shit," he said. "But Dustin, what the fuck?"

Dustin barked in laughter, clearly forced and sarcastic. "And now you're gonna suck up to your girlfriend, right?"

Now it was Lucas's turn to scoff. "What the hell do you even mean? You're being a dickhead!"

"No, I'm not! All I'm doing is calling out Max's bullshit!"

"What you're doing is being an ass!"

The table interrupted into chaos, and soon Dustin, Lucas and Max were yelling at each other like banshees, with Mike sitting in the background, staring at it all with wide eyes. It was like the goddamn twilight zone. The Party had gone from closer than ever to practically enemies in not even two weeks. As things escalated, Mike found himself getting more and more angry and frustrated.

Eventually, it became too much. With emotion practically bursting at the seams, he slammed his hands down on the tabletop abruptly so hard that the table shook. "SHUT UP!" he screamed so loud that all the conversation in the cafeteria lulled for a moment as everyone turned to look at the cause of the ruckus.

Mike was breathing hard, not even able to focus on any one particular point. He ground his teeth and stared at the table, trying to ignore the throbbing in his hands. "Shut up," he repeated again, more softly, his voice breaking. He couldn't find it in him to continue speaking.

He got up and left the cafeteria, leaving the rest of his friends in stunned silence.

The rest of Mike's lunch period was spent walking aimlessly around outside, lost in thought. He had witnessed his friends turn on each other like a pack of savage, starving dogs. It had been horrible. He was hoping that it was just Dustin having a bad day, but the truth of the matter was that they were all having days. It had felt like nothing but bad days (for at least him) ever since the move.

At least last week, they hadn't been fighting each other like a bunch of animals. He would have preferred stony silence over what he had just seen. He wanted to go back and see what was happening between them, but the thought of being with anyone but himself made him want to scream.

At the end of the day, Lucas and Dustin would have to shake. That was the rule of law, the rule of the Party. And the Party would always stay together no matter what. Right?

Mike shook his head to himself. Of course, he was right. Nothing on God's green Earth would separate the Party, he was positive. They had been through too much together to ever be broken apart. They were just going through a difficult time. They would be able to get through this. It would just take some effort.

El and Mike had fought before, and they came out fine. All it took was them both understanding each other, some conversation, space, and time. If he was able to have just those things with the rest of his friends, then he was sure that the problems they had been having would be resolved. It seemed so simple, but yet he was still worried that it wouldn't be doable, somehow.

He knew what would have made the situation better for him. All the stress he had been dealing with recently, it would have all been better if El was here. He was always able to talk to her about his problems, and somehow she would just make everything seem okay. She gave him strength and courage. And right now, everything seemed so distant without her.

That just meant that he would have to be strong on his own. He'd have to deal with this with the friends that were here. "Get a grip, Mike," he muttered to himself. There was no way that he couldn't get through this. He and the Party would just have to learn to live without Will and El in their lives every day. There was nothing impossible about that. Change was a part of life, and they would just have to accept this particular change. Together. Eventually.

Mike ran off the bench and into the center of the gym for the tip-off for the gyms class' basketball game. It was the starting draw, and of course, the other team had Troy taking the tip-off. When he saw Mike approaching to face off against him, he laughed. "Your team chose you?" he sneered.

"I'm the tallest," Mike replied curtly. "Taller than you," he added with a hint of confidence.

"Let's see who wins, then," he growled, cracking his knuckles. He adjusted his feet and bent his knees, and Mike did the same when he got to the center of the court. The ball popped up and as soon as it started on its way back down, Mike jumped as high as he could and knocked the ball just enough to send it back toward his teammates.

"Fuck!" Troy hissed, and he ran backward to resume his position among his teammates.

While Mike was pleased with himself for winning the draw, he knew the victory was short-lived. He had the height advantage over everyone in his class, and a vertical to match it, but as he had pointed out many times before, team sports (especially basketball) were not his forte.

The ball was currently in possession of one of Mike's teammates, who was playing defense. He passed it over to another student on his team, but Troy lunged out of nowhere and intercepted the pass. He effortlessly dribbled around everyone in the gym and executed a perfect lay-up, and the ball found its way through the net, scoring a point for his team.

As Troy high-fived on of his buddies, he gave a menacing and condescending sneer toward Mike. He furrowed his brow. He hadn't even been near Troy. Why was he already throwing him stink-eyes?

Mike shook his head to himself. Only another hour or so. Just be a wallflower. "Mike!" a voice called from beside him. It was one of his teammates. "Can you start?"

Mike tried to his inside grimace. "I guess…" he muttered quietly, sticking his hands up to receive the pass. The boy bounced the ball across the floor between them, and he caught it. Mike scanned the gym, looking for an open person to pass to.

"C'mon, Wheeler, we don't got all week!" Troy jeered from the halfway line. The rest of his team snickered in response.

Mike nodded, feeling slightly flustered. He also didn't like team games because there were many times when he felt like he was alone up against a unit of five or six people. This was one of the moments, it seemed like the rest of his teammates had just faded away.

"Mike, here!" a kid named Ryan yelled as he started running across the gym floor. Mike did his best to predict where he was heading and threw the ball accordingly. But it was a little bit to slow and ended up going behind Ryan by a couple of feet.

"What the hell, man?" he called, throwing his arms in the air out of frustration.

"Sorry!" Mike called awkwardly, kicking himself for such a lousy pass.

"What did you expect, Ryan? It's fucking Mike, after all," he continued to carry on, drawing out more chuckles from the rest of the class.

"Watch the attitude, boy," the teacher called, eying Troy intensely. He rolled his eyes but quieted down, turning his attention to the ongoing game. He raised his arms indicating that he was open, and the ball was passed to him promptly (everyone knew very well that Troy was the best person on their team).

He dribbled the ball a little bit before starting on a jog down the side of the court. Mike's first idea was to stay at the sideline and avoid Troy so he could just make it to the end of the period. But then the prior phone call with El from the morning echoed in his mind. Stand up to him.

Mike inhaled deeply and shook his shoulders out. He jogged from his position under the net to near the left side of the court where he was guessing Troy would be crossing in a few seconds. When Troy saw him standing in front of him, he laughed. "Wheeler," he smirked, dribbling the ball between his legs confidently. "How you feeling, frog face?"

Mike squatted down slightly and bent up his knees, readying himself to defend. "You should come up with a new nick-name, Troy. That one's getting stale."

Troy snarled and charged forward. Mike was caught off guard and backed up slightly, but Troy was like a train and he plowed right through him, knocking him down like he was a feather. He watched as he ran up the court and threw the ball in effortlessly, whistling as it swished through the net.

"Maybe I should just call you shit," Troy taunted. "'Cause that's what it looks like you are."

Mike bit his tongue. As much as he would have loved to retort, it was hard to because he knew he was right. And the whole class knew, as well. He shook himself off and got up, ignoring the faces he was getting from his teammates.

The rest of the period was spent more or less the same way, with Troy repeatedly tripping and shoving Mike and calling him names, which the teacher did little to stop. The only moment he actually could enjoy the sound of Troy not talking when he stepped into the change room at the end of class. But it was brief, unfortunately.

"Good game, Wheeler," Troy spat, slamming the door on his way in. It almost slammed on the next kid's hand, but he didn't say anything. Mike grit his teeth and didn't say anything. "I think it's been your best since we started."

Troy and his friends snickered. The voice in Mike's mind repeated themselves: stand up to him. "Do you actually know how to pass the ball? Like, you must have fucked up those passes fifty times-"

"SHUT UP!" Mike erupted for the second time that day. "Jesus Christ, Troy, do you ever stop talking?" he roared, striding toward him.

Troy closed the gap between them in a flash and fisted Mike's collar, backing him up against the locker and pressing him hard against it. Troy was strong, and Mike tried to push back, but it was pointless. "I don't like the disrespect, Wheeler," he snarled, blowing his hot breath into Mike's face.

Out of nowhere, Mike felt a blow to his stomach that felt like a truck colliding just under his ribs, and he choked and bent forward. "You still wanna insult me, shithead?" He grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled his torso up before delivering a debilitating knee to the stomach again, all while Mike was still wheezing from the first contact.

Troy leaned close to Mike, his mouth a few inches from his ear. "You haven't seen shit yet, Wheeler," he whispered threateningly, and jabbed him in the ribs with his left fist. Mike coughed and fell forward, clutching his side in pain.

He heard some more indistinct voices in the changeroom as he got up. He did his best to tune them out. All he wanted was to get out. Troy and his buddies finally left the changeroom, leaving just Mike and the rest of the kids who had been watching from the side the whole time. He looked directed his head downward and gazed around the room discreetly at all the kids, wondering why not a single one of them stepped in. Troy was loved by the athletic kids, but there were still a lot of kids that were more like himself that definitely didn't like him. So why did they not step in?

Ignoring the sick feeling in his stomach that he'd been having ever since he got punched, Mike walked out of the change room, still hunched slightly forward. Rather than going out the front door, he took a different route and exited out of one of the side exits. He was doing his best to avoid any confrontation with his friends, seeing as how their lunch had gone.

Could things be any worse?

That's it for today, guys! hope you enjoyed the update, I'll probably have the next one out in a week or two. Stay posted!