"You look better today."

Dustin was waiting in the driveway when Christine came out the next morning. She stuck her tongue out at him as she collected her own bike, which made him grin.

"Mom made you lunch," he added, offering her a brown paper bag. "Just in case your power went out last night."

"Power? You guys too?"

"Yup. Killed everything in the fridge. Which sucks but means we get to have fluffernutters."

"Sick." Christine took the bag, stowing it away in her backpack. "My fridge is still going, but I don't say no to a fluffernutter."

"Man, brown outs are so lame," Dustin complained. "Blackouts are fun. That shit's exciting. Not being able to do some things is just dumb."

"Language, Dustin."

They set off together down the street. Dustin always pedaled faster than Christine, and had to loop around at every stop sign waiting for her to catch up. He'd tease her about being a slowpoke from time to time, but it was something they were both used to. They didn't bike to school together every day, but the ride was nicer with company.

"Did you talk to Nancy?" asked Dustin, pulling up beside Christine.

"Nope. Did you talk to Nancy?"

"Nope. I told you I wasn't gonna say anything. You might think bards are all show and charisma, but my word means something. Besides, she was being a real jerk yesterday. I offered her the last slice of pizza and she just slammed the door in my face."

"Don't take it too hard," said Christine. "It's me she's mad at, not you."

"Why is she mad at you? She's the one who kissed the guy. You should be mad at her."

"No, I shouldn't. She's my friend, and I love her, so I should be happy for her."

"But you liked him first, didn't you?"

"That's not how it works, Dust," she sighed. "You can't call dibs on people. They make their own choices."

"Yeah, but I thought your friends are always supposed to come first."

It took her a minute to come up with a response to that one. Christine pushed down the remnants of her rage, and steeled her resolve.

"They are. Which is why I'm not mad at her."

"You're not?" Dustin asked, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Nope."

"Not even a little bit?"

"Absolutely."

"Are you sure?"

"One hundred percent."

"So if you biked up to the high school right now, and Nancy and Steve were sucking face in the parking lot…"

"Oh my God, shut up, Dustin."

She flipped him off, and Dustin raised a warning finger. "Hey, watch your language! Your—Your hand…language. Shit."

Christine smirked at his fumble, and took the opportunity to change the subject.

"Hey, Mike said the new ham shack should be in soon. He wouldn't say if I was allowed to see it. You gonna put in a good word for me?"

"Oh shit! That's like today! Yes! Oh, hell yes!"

Dustin spent the rest of the ride gushing about the new radio, all the features it was supposed to have, how much it cost. Christine listened intently, trying to focus on his rambling instead of the trouble waiting for her on the horizon.

They split ways on the main road—Dustin going to meet up with his friends while Christine turned toward the high school. It was annoying having to weave through all the speeding cars of the upperclassmen, and she got honked at more than once for cutting someone off. Almost no one rode their bikes to school anymore. On the bright side, that meant she never had to fight someone for a spot. There was always space at the bike rack.

Christine kept her head down as she walked to her locker. No one looked her way, and there were no waves of whispers floating around her. She allowed herself to relax just slightly. Part of her had worried that after the scene she'd caused with Tommy, the halls would be echoing with the words "psycho bitch." But to everyone else, it just seemed like another teenage party. People drank, people hooked up, people cried—and the world kept spinning on.

She dropped her bag in her locker, and out of habit headed down the hall toward Nancy's. She stopped short when she realized what she was doing. She hadn't thought at all about what she wanted to say. What if Nancy flipped on her for bailing on the party? What if she really was with Steve, sucking face in the hallway like Dustin had said?

Christine gripped her books tighter, and forced herself forward. She couldn't avoid Nancy forever. It was better to get it over with and just move on with her day.

Nancy was already at her locker, but thankfully, Steve was nowhere in sight. Instead she was talking to Barb, who was smirking at something Nancy had said. Nancy laughed, but stopped abruptly when she spotted Christine. She had to rush to cover her shock with a smile.

"Morning," Christine said, casually as she could muster. "What are we laughing at?"

"Oh, nothing!" Nancy's words were rushed, and Christine didn't miss the side glance she shot to Barb. "Uh, hey! How are you feeling?"

"Better. I was…pretty wrecked yesterday. Hungover, I mean. That punch was stupid strong."

"Right. No, yeah, I figured that was what happened."

"I'm sorry I bailed. I was just like…puking and nauseous and…"

"No, it's totally fine! I—I caught a ride home so…it's cool."

They nodded at each other in silence. Nancy averted her eyes to the books in her arms, and Christine inspected a ripped sticker on a locker two doors down. But Barb caught her eye, giving her a painfully pointed look, and Christine struggled to bite down her sigh.

"So. You and Steve. Congrats."

Nancy's head shot up like a bottle rocket, her eyes wide. "No, no! It wasn't like that. I don't know how much you heard or—or what you saw, but it wasn't like that. Really."

"Nancy, it's fine."

"I mean, he kissed me, yes. And it was great. But it's like you said, right? It's not exactly a marriage proposal."

"Nancy," Christine said firmly. "It's fine. I'm really happy for you."

She wasn't sure if the words sounded convincing. They certainly didn't seem so to her. But Nancy's shoulders sagged in relief, and Barb nodded approvingly.

"I was just telling Nancy that she better not be too cool to hang out with us anymore. If she becomes friends with Tommy H or Carol, I swear…"

"Oh, that's gross," Nancy scoffed, turning back to her locker. "Okay, I'm telling you it was a one-time…two-time thing."

Barb raised her eyebrows, and Christine laughed politely. It wasn't as hard as she'd expected. Nancy might be lying through her teeth about the whole ordeal, but as long as she did, the venomous shred of hope in Christine's chest still had a tiny spark. There was plausible deniability. Until, of course, Nancy opened her locker.

A small rip of paper fell onto Nancy's books, which she unfolded without a second thought. The big blue words would have been impossible to hide even if she'd tried to.

Meet me. Bathroom. –Steve

Christine's tiny spark spluttered out.

"You were saying?" Barb asked slyly, and Nancy flushed scarlet.

"I—I should probably go. I might have left something in his car, or maybe he wants to…"

"To ravage you before class," Barb finished, waving a hand. "Go, Nance. We'll see you in homeroom."

Nancy gave a nervous look to Christine, who luckily still had the polite smile stuck on her face.

"Yeah, go. We'll catch you later."

Nancy nodded, quickly collecting her books from her locker. Then she darted down the hallway toward the nearest bathroom, her excitement already beginning to burst through her face.

"Well, that was painful," said Barb, once she'd disappeared. "But nice job."

"Hey, I'm trying, okay?" Christine huffed as they headed in the opposite direction. "I know I should be supportive. I'm just still…"

"Heartbroken?"

"Bummed," she corrected flatly.

"Well, it definitely could have been worse," said Barb. She bumped Christine with her shoulder, gently knocking the shorter girl off track. "I just wish you two had done it over the phone so I didn't have to witness it."

"I tried calling her, seriously. But after I called you, the connection just went completely out of whack. All I could get was static."

"Yeah, me too. My parents had the news on this morning? Apparently it was county-wide. Some people still don't have power."

"Seriously?" Christine furrowed her brow, thinking back to her bedside lamp, Dustin's fridge. "Power lines down or something?"

"Well that's the thing," said Barb. "They've got no idea what caused it. Scientific anomaly."

"Great. That's real comforting."

"For sure. Especially when my dad starting going on about the Russians."

They were two of the first to arrive for homeroom, and took seats in the back so they could gossip in low voices. Barb forced Christine to recount everything that had happened on Saturday, from Steve's clever convincing at the movie theater to the disastrous party itself. It didn't seem so bad now that she was twenty-four hours removed. It actually felt nice to get it all out. And as much as Barb had teased and egged on Nancy in the morning, she still offered a sympathetic ear to Christine's complaining.

For this, Christine was eternally grateful. She didn't want to stick Barb in the middle of some stupid, petty fight. It wouldn't be fair to her, not after all the times she'd put up with their daydreaming and giggling. At the same time, she knew it wouldn't be easy. Especially when the final bell rang fifteen minutes later, and Nancy still had not joined them in class.

"Alright, everyone settle down," their instructor, Ms. Snider, called. "Faster we get through this, the faster you can get back to your lives. Gina Atwood?"

"Here!"

"Ana Bently?"

"Here."

"Jonathan Byers? Jonathan? No? Alright. Warren Chadwick?"

"Here!"

They combed farther and farther down the list, and Christine's eyes stayed glued to the door. She was one minute late, two minutes, three…

"Christine Walcott? Christine?"

Barb had to kick her under the desk, and Christine jolted upright. "Uh, here! Sorry."

"Thank you, Miss Walcott. And Nancy Wheeler? Nancy?"

Christine looked at the door, but it remained firmly closed.

"Alright, then," said Ms. Snider, clapping the front of the podium. "Announcements. Hawkins Elementary is still looking for volunteers to help in their annual field day. If you're interested in that, make sure you stop by the front office to look at the sign-up sheet. If you're not interested in that, may I remind you that it does count as extra credit toward physical education. So those few of you who are so keen on skipping gym might want to think twice. The honor society is also hosting…"

A loud creak interrupted as the classroom door inched open. Nancy squeezed inside, then froze when she noticed that every single person in the room was looking at her. A few students giggled, but Snider didn't bother quieting them.

"Miss Wheeler. Thank you for joining us. If you'll find a seat, so we can continue."

Nancy's flustered blush was visible from the other side of the classroom. Her tousled hair was a bit subtler, as were her swollen lips. But to Christine they stuck out like stains on a white carpet. She gripped her pencil a bit tighter, grinding the graphite into a fine powder against her desk.

After homeroom, Christine decided to change her strategy. She couldn't avoid Nancy forever, but she could damn well avoid her for now. She hurried out of every class they had together, and used her queasy stomach as an excuse to duck into bathrooms wherever possible. She knew Nancy was suspicious, but there was little that could be done about that. Avoiding her was better than completely losing it in the middle of the hallway, wasn't it? In the end, it would all be for the best.

Christine could avoid Nancy to the best of her ability. But there were some things she just couldn't run from.

Steve slid into his seat just as the bell rang, his physics textbook in hand. Christine watched him out of the corner of her eye, but did not raise her head. The plan was to deny him the satisfaction of her attention. He had Nancy for that now, and Christine was putting her foot down.

"Okay, people," called Mr. Austin, propping his feet up on his desk. "First thing's first, place your lab reports in the hand-in bin, and then back to your seats to read the intro to chapter eight. Lecture starts in ten."

"Reports?" Steve echoed. "We have…? Shit. Christine, did you…?"

She wordlessly slid the paper over him, focusing intently on her textbook.

"Oh, thank Christ. You're a freaking angel."

She only listened as he scribbled his name next to hers on the paper, and hurried up to the front of the class to hand it in. She would not look up from her work. She would not, she would not, she would not…

Steve collapsed back into his chair, peeking over at her book to check the page number. It even seemed like he was able to read a couple sentences before he got distracted. He ran a hand through his hair, and traced a few lines of the first paragraph. She watched his hand drift to the edge of the book, where his thumb stroked down the corner a few times. Then he reached over and tapped Christine's page.

"Hey," he said softly, ducking his head to avoid the teacher's gaze. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine."

"Oh, good. Tommy said you ran out of the party on Saturday. I thought you might've been sick."

"Nope."

Steve's hand flinched in the corner of her vision, but Christine ignored it. She wasn't even reading the chapter at this point, just glaring down at the fine print. She was not going to look at him. She wasn't going to do it.

"Hey, did your power go out last night?" he tried. "My dad was yelling about the TV for like an hour. It was nuts."

"Yeah, wild."

She winced. She knew she was being short. But he deserved it, right? After everything he'd done, she shouldn't care if his feelings were hurt. She should probably celebrate. Serve him right for…

Steve reached over before she was prepared, brushing the back of her hand. It was just one finger, barely ghosting over her skin, but her body reacted like it was a thousand-volt shock. She looked up instantly, meeting his gaze.

"Chrissy, you sure you're okay?"

He looked concerned, truly and honestly. And God, did she want to believe that he was. But he'd given her looks like that before. It hadn't meant a damn thing.

"I'm fine, Steve." Her voice was feebler than she'd intended, which was infuriating. She snatched her hand away from him. "Seriously. Now look at your book and read the chapter before Austin gives you detention again and I have to write your notes on this too."

Steve gaped at her, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "Wow. Bossy."

Christine rolled her eyes and went back to her book, prompting Steve to let out a low whistle. That, unfortunately, caught the attention of Mr. Austin.

"Harrington, do I need to come back there and hold your hand through the reading?"

"No, sir," Steve replied, giving him a thumbs up. "Just read something super interesting. Sorry, sir."

Laughter rippled across the classroom, but Austin let him off the hook.

Steve left her alone after that, for the most part anyway. Occasionally, Christine could feel his eyes lingering on her. On any other day, it would have been thrilling. Today all she wanted to do was burrow into the floor and disappear forever.

As soon as the bell rang, she was out of her seat. She swiped her books into her arms all at once, grabbed her backpack, and rushed out of the door as fast as she could. It was easier to breathe in the hallway, away from the lingering smell of expensive cologne and hairspray, but only until she heard the footsteps rushing up behind her.

"Hey, Christine, wait up!"

She did not want to wait up. If it wouldn't have caused a scene, she would have sprinted down the hallway like a track star. But she didn't need that kind of attention. So she slowed down her pace to a normal walk and waited for Steve to catch up to her.

"Damn, you're in a hurry," he laughed. It faltered a bit when she didn't join in, but it didn't stop him from continuing. "You heading to lunch?"

"Yes."

"Alright, cool. I just wanted to know if you guys wanted to join us."

"…What?"

"You know, me, Tommy, Carol, a couple other people. I figured you could eat with us. You, Nancy, and uh…that other chick you're always hanging around with."

"I can't," Christine said instantly.

Steve stared at her. "You…can't?"

"Yeah, um…my fridge died last night cause of the blackout. Brown out. Whatever."

"O-kay? So what, you're buying?"

"No, uh…my neighbor packed lunch for me. She's super sweet, and wanted to make sure I had something, but I have to go pick it up from her son at the middle school, so…yeah. I gotta go. Thanks, though."

He was still squinting at her, and she had run out of things to say. Without any real choice, Christine turned on her heel and fled down the hallway, cursing under her breath as she walked right out the door and into the parking lot. She didn't dare stop. She walked all the way around the building and back into the school through a different entrance. Then she headed for her locker, where the lunch from Mrs. Henderson was safely tucked away.

She twisted the paper bag in her hands, deliberating. Then she slammed her locker shut and walked in the opposite direction of the cafeteria.

She didn't really have a plan laid out. The only objective was staying as far away from her problems as she physically could.

She wound up by the gymnasium. Satisfied that no one would come looking for her here, she sank to the ground, leaning her back against the giant tiger mural splayed across the wall. She fished her Walkman out of her backpack and slipped on her headphones. The smooth vocals of "Careless Talk" by Billy Joel filled her ears, and she cranked up the volume. On the highest setting, she could almost drown out the sounds of the basketball game going on inside.

Christine opened her lunch bag, smiling morosely at the squished fluffernutter. She'd have to thank Claudia for thinking of her. There was no telling what kind of emotional trauma she'd prevented by giving Christine an out.

The rest of the day stretched on, a war on Christine's nerves. She'd had to bullshit her way through a conversation with a very concerned Nancy after lunch, explaining that Steve must've misunderstood what she'd told him. Her fridge hadn't died. Dustin's had, and she had to bring him his lunch because he left early for school. It was a much better lie than her previous one, but Nancy still didn't believe her. That wasn't a surprise, but things were still too awkward to push the issue.

In fact, almost all the conversations she had with Nancy were turning out to be painful. They were either over complimentary to each other, or so short they were barely talking at all. It hurt, and Barb was clearly growing exasperated with both of them. At the same time, Christine found it comforting that Nancy didn't know how to handle the situation either.

It was a relief when the final bell rang at the end of the day. Christine collected her things and escaped out a side door, taking the long way to the bike rack so she could avoid any unwanted interactions. She even went the extra mile to bike to the middle school instead of heading home, just so she wouldn't pass Barb and Nancy on the road.

Hawkins High School let out about twenty minutes before Hawkins Middle, so she had to wait a while before the students rushed out. She finally spotted Dustin's hat among the masses, where he was walking with Mike and his friend Lucas. She waved, but the boys were deeply involved in their own conversations. They didn't notice her until they were right on the curb, and she cleared her throat behind them.

"Hello? Earth to the Dungeon Squad."

All three boys jumped, wheeling around clumsily with their bikes.

"Christine!" Dustin complained, laying a hand on his chest. "Don't do that! And don't call us that!"

"Sorry. Dungeon People?"

"Oh, ha, ha. You're hilarious."

"Uh…hi, Christine," said Lucas, smiling brightly.

Dustin and Mike both rolled their eyes, and Christine contained her chuckle.

"Hey, Lucas. How ya doing?"

"Great. I mean—I'm cool."

"We're not cool," said Mike, glaring pointedly at Lucas. "And we were kind of in the middle of something."

"Yeah, you know," Dustin added. "Places to go, people to see. Later Chrissy!"

"Woah, woah, woah," said Christine, watching as they climbed onto their bikes. "Where are you rushing off to? And aren't you missing one? Where's Byers?"

The boys froze, and all exchanged downcast looks. Christine stood up a little straighter, inspecting them closely.

"Guys? What's going on?"

It was Mike that answered her first.

"He's gone."

"Gone? Like, he skipped?"

"No, he didn't skip," he snapped. "I said he's gone."

"Chief Hopper came down to talk to us," Dustin supplied. "Will's mom can't find him anywhere. He's just…gone."

"Gone?" she echoed, again. "What do you…? When was the last time you saw him?"

"Last night," said Lucas, "after the campaign. We left Mike's at eight."

"I biked home with him," Dustin continued. "We raced to my house and then he kept going. No one knows what happened."

Christine bit her lip. She didn't know Will very well, but he was a quiet kid. Not the type to skip town for kicks, especially without his best friends. And if the cops had come down to question them, it sounded serious. Her mind flashed back to homeroom, and the empty desk where Jonathan Byers usually sat.

She did her best not to let the worry show on her face.

"I'm sure he's fine," she said supportively. "And if he's not, the police will find him. Hawkins isn't that big."

"If he's still in Hawkins," said Mike.

"Well…one thing at a time. Come on. I wanna make sure you all get home okay."

"NO!"

All three boys began clamoring at once, supplying various excuses and trying to inch away before she noticed. But Christine simply held up her hands, unfazed.

"Listen, if Will's really in trouble, I'm not letting you guys go off alone. You can talk on the walkies when you get home, but I don't think you should be wandering."

"We'll be fine," Mike insisted. "It's like you said. Will's probably uh—completely okay. Nothing to worry about."

"And we won't wander off," added Dustin. "Cross our hearts."

Christine stared down the boys. Mike and Dustin maintained their poker faces, smiling innocently until she looked away. She zeroed in on Lucas, who was repeatedly adjusting his grip on his handlebars. After a few seconds under scrutiny, he cracked.

"I don't know, guys," he sighed. "Maybe Christine is right. You heard what the chief said."

Mike smacked him, and Christine raised her eyebrows.

"Oh? What exactly did the chief say, Lucas?"

Both Mike and Dustin were glaring at him now. Lucas squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable impact.

"He made us promise not to go looking for Will."

"What the hell, Lucas?!"

"Asshole. You are so whipped."

"HEY!"

The arguing stopped abruptly, and the boys turned to stare at Christine. She stepped forward, and jabbed a finger at each of them in turn.

"Listen up. I have had a really shitty day, so the last thing I need is to listen to the three of you arguing all the way home. I'm biking each of you to your houses, and if I find out you didn't stay there, I tell your parents. End of discussion. Got it?"

They nodded reluctantly, though Dustin was still giving her a pissy look as she hopped back onto her bike.

"You're crabby. If you had such a bad day, why didn't you just go home?"

"I made the mistake of thinking hanging out with you might make me feel better. My bad."

"Lay off, Dustin," said Lucas, and he stepped up to her side. "Sorry you had a bad day, Chrissy."

"Thanks, Lucas."

"You're way too good for Steve Harrington anyway."

Christine turned deadly slow toward Dustin, who already had his hands up in the air.

"Lucas made me tell him!"

"What? I did not!"

"Yes, he did! I told you! He's crazy about you!"

"You're dead, Henderson!"

Dustin was off like a gunshot, Lucas right on his tail as they raced for the main road. Christine screamed for them to slow down, but it was no use. She huffed, sitting back on her bike, and Mike snorted next to her.

"You still want to bike home with us?"

"Nice try, Wheeler. Get pedaling."

They stopped at the Wheeler's first—"stopped" being a rather loose term, as Christine barely stayed long enough to see Mike make it to the door. Then they dropped off Lucas, before circling back around to their own street to head home. Dustin whined obnoxiously as Christine parked her bike in his driveway, insisting on walking him all the way into the house in case he tried to make a run for it. Judging by all his complaining, it was exactly what he'd been planning to do.

"Dusty? Is that you?" Mrs. Henderson came shuffling into the living room, one arm around her overweight cat and the other on her hip. "You're late! I was getting worried!"

"Blame Chrissy," he scoffed, walking straight down the hallway to his room. "She wouldn't let us bike home alone."

"Well, that is because Christine is the best babysitter in Hawkins."

"She's not my babysitter, Mom! She's my friend, and she's annoying!"

The door to Dustin's room slammed shut, and Mrs. Henderson huffed. "I don't know what's gotten into him! He's been so rude lately."

"It's fine, Mrs. Henderson," Christine said with a shrug. "He's just worried about Will. All of them are."

"God, that poor thing." She pressed a hand to her cheek, shaking her head. "You know, Joyce Byers called me this morning at wit's frayed end. I can't imagine what's she's been through. If it had been Dusty, I don't know what I'd do."

"Well, you don't have to worry about that. So long as he doesn't climb out a window to go look for Will, I think he'll be okay."

"What are we going to do with him?" she asked, shaking her head. Christine almost answered, but Mrs. Henderson lifted her cat's face up to her nose instead. "Huh, Mews? What are we going to do with him?"

Christine laughed awkwardly, taking a step back toward the door. "Alright, well I'm gonna head home…"

"Are you sure, sweetheart? Do you want to stay for dinner? I'm making lasagna!"

"No, no. No worries. I don't want to be a bother."

"Oh hush! You're never a bother, Christine. I can't thank you enough for taking care of Dusty. You could even stay here for the night, if you'd like. I don't like the idea of you alone over there, especially with everything going on."

"I'll be fine, really. I'm not planning on heading out anywhere. Besides, if anyone tries to get in the house, I've always got my dad's shotgun."

Mrs. Henderson did not seem to find that as funny as Christine did. She pursed her lips, and hugged her cat a little bit closer.

"Alright. If you're sure. But I want you to call me before you go to bed tonight. I don't want to have to worry about you vanishing too."

"You got it, Mrs. Henderson."

"Christine, you're nearly sixteen years old. 'Claudia' is fine."

"Right. Sorry." Christine waved goodbye, but hesitated for a moment at the front door. "Claudia? Thanks for the fluffernutter. It…kinda saved my day."

Mrs. Henderson smiled. "Anytime, sweetie. I figured you could use it. Dusty mentioned you had a rough weekend."

"Ugh. Did he tell everyone?"

"Probably," she laughed lightly. "But it's only because he worries about you."

"Yeah, well. I guess I worry about him too." Christine bit her lip, tapping on the edge of the doorframe. "If you want, I'll take him all the way to school tomorrow. Just to be safe."

"Ah! You're the sweetest." Mrs. Henderson placed her cat on the floor, hurrying over to Christine to give her a kiss on the cheek. "You're like my own little angel."

"Yeah," Christine muttered to herself as she stepped out onto the porch. "So I've been told."