Sam Goody was packed.
Linda Lyndell's strong voice on the company turntable could barely be heard over the hustle and bustle of the store. Every section was full, people standing shoulder-to-shoulder and bumping into one another every time they tried to move somewhere else. Shopping wasn't easy, let alone enjoyable, but that didn't matter. Very few people had crammed in here with any intention of buying.
Sure, records were flicked through, tapes were moved about, but the merchandise in their hands was simply a front, put up to hide their true intentions. They'd flocked here with their hearts set on a very different form of entertainment, one that held their attention with a greater fixation than any album ever could.
Some openly stared—their eyes never straying, even when the bubble they blew popped—while others got in as many glances as they could manage before they looked back down to the music in their hands with their cheeks red, but all were here for the exact same reason.
What a man, what a man, what a man
What a mighty, mighty good man
"Is that all for today?" Henry asked, smiling politely at the girl on the other side of the counter.
"Unless you have any other suggestions—" the girl leaned forward, a little closer than she ought to, peering at the tag on his chest before her eyes flickered back up to his, a weighted smile on her face, "—Henry."
"Eurythmics is a good choice," Henry replied as if she wasn't practically laid across the counter, and even though he hadn't let his words drag out in a way that would imply he wanted it, she offered it freely.
"Marcia," she said, Henry smiling like he cared.
"That'll be 8.65," he said, and after Marcia dutifully handed over cash, Henry passed back her change and the bag, "Have a nice night, Marcia."
"You too, Henry," she replied, flashing him one last look before she walked out of the store and his mind entirely.
The next girl in line didn't even pretend like she didn't know his name.
And Henry didn't even notice.
It might've seemed like there was a perfectly normal employee behind the counter, but for the last leg of Henry's shift, there was a marionette working, his strings pulled by unseen forces. He completed all of his tasks, rang everyone up, and did it all with a pleasant expression, but Henry was far, far away from Sam Goody.
The note in his pocket weighed like lead, mocking him. The endless possibilities of how things could go wrong swirled in his brain, and the only thing that kept him from running out screaming for someone to come and save him from the monster he'd cooked up in his imagination was abject shock.
He didn't even have it in him to be uncomfortable about being blatantly admired.
Time dragged on, seeming endless, like this was the never-ending shift. Customer after customer came up to the counter, buying music they barely even looked at or needing his help to get that thing off of that high shelf, and he saw none of them. Just kept going and going, everything in one ear and out the other.
And then, it was over, and he was free to go.
He was maybe a little shorter with Charlie than he should've been, but he couldn't bring himself to care. The moment the lights had gone out, the moment fear had taken ahold of him, his mind had gone to one person and one person only, and he hadn't left it since.
Henry felt something settle inside of him the moment he laid eyes on Steve.
He knew it would. He knew no matter how bad it got, how scared he was, once Steve was in sight, he'd feel at least a little bit better. Safer. Even if he was wearing that dumbass uniform.
"Hey, man," Steve said, slouching behind the counter but perking up a little when he caught sight of him, "You see the twerps? I swear to god, if I get fired because of them, I— What's wrong?"
Henry knew he wasn't doing a very good job of masking his emotions right now, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't help but allow how he felt to reflect on his face, for anyone to see. Especially Steve. He always noticed anyway, right now he must've looked like a giant neon sign flashing SOS.
But, Steve wasn't hiding anything either.
And his expression was all too familiar.
Henry knew that if he told him what was happening, what it was that was making him frightened, Steve would kick right into gear. He'd hunt down every last string of evidence that came from this letter until he was certain it wasn't anything to be scared of.
Because it was never anything to be scared of.
Every other time he'd panicked in the past six months, every other time Steve had looked into it for him, it had been nothing. Just his anxiety clouding his mind and sending him into a frenzy until Steve soothed him. Just him being afraid of the shadows until Steve shined a light.
The whole town knew he worked at Sam Goody, it wouldn't be hard to get a letter to him. Could be some dumb prank coming from a kid who knew the power was going to go out because of maintenance, or maybe some guy noticed his girlfriend hanging around his work a little more often than she should and decided to fuck with him as payback. It was probably nothing, absolutely nothing.
And…
And maybe, there was a small feeling in him, one that wasn't making itself known quite yet, that nudged him in that direction.
"I…" Henry took a deep breath, "Had a really long shift."
Steve nodded in understanding, but there was a glint in his eye that made him think he didn't quite believe him. Henry hoped he wouldn't press; he might not be able to stop himself from spilling if he did.
"If it makes you feel any better, Steve struck out with three girls in the past hour."
No matter how weird Henry felt right now, he managed to smile a little at that. Maybe because he knew if he didn't, it would be all too obvious that something was wrong. Maybe because of the way Steve rolled his eyes when he heard it.
Or maybe because of the appearance of the girl in the back window.
When Henry had accepted the job at Sam Goody, all he'd really considered was that he'd be two doors down from his best friend. He hadn't taken into account anyone else, which was silly, he'd admit that. Of course Steve would have at least one coworker, and since plenty of kids at their school were scrambling for jobs at the shiny new mall, there shouldn't have been any doubt in his mind that there'd be someone he vaguely knew in their proximity who he'd more or less have to put up with.
But, it didn't work out that way.
Sure, in the back room of Scoops Ahoy was just another teenager at a shitty summer job, but this one had come to represent far more than another person to deal with. She was conspiratorial grins and chipping black nail polish; snarky glances shared behind a customer's back; an audience with a genuine interest in mechanic stories; the only other person Henry had ever met that had seen Possession.
Someone well on the path of being considered a friend.
"Did he scream 'ahoy' at any?" Henry asked, having already heard quite a bit about his best friend's attempts with women.
"Two of them," Robin said, holding up two fingers for emphasis, "Two."
Henry laughed. He might feel strange right now, but he liked Robin, he just couldn't help it. He'd liked her since those first interactions at school last fall, even if they hadn't gone beyond friendly classmates. They clicked in a way he often didn't with other people, even the ones he got along with. He felt camaraderie with her, an unspoken one he knew went both ways even if he didn't fully understand it.
Besides, with the flurry of emotions still dragging him down, hearing how Steve failed hilariously with women was quite the pick-me-up.
And maybe, just maybe, that was because of relief, but he'd never admit that.
"Hey, incoming," Robin said, and Henry looked over his shoulder to see that two girls were making their way into Scoops. Henry did as he always did when they got customers when he was hanging around, and stepped aside to let Steve do the job he hated, pretending like what he was about to witness didn't bother him just a little.
"Ah—Hello, ladies!" Steve said, switching up midway, and Henry glanced back at Robin before both turned away and tamped down smiles, "Are you here to join me on a—?"
"Oh my god, Henry Sinclair?"
Henry looked up; startled by the sudden sound of his own name, but still smiling politely out of (customer service related) habit. It might've softened into something a little more genuine once his brain caught up with what was going on, but not by very much. That was okay though, only Steve could tell the difference anyway.
"Hey, Eleanor," he said, "How's your mom? Passat being good to her?"
"Uh, yeah, thanks to you," Eleanor said, like she couldn't believe that he remembered helping Mrs. Harrell when her car broke down in the grocery store parking lot a couple of months ago, "What about you? You look really good."
"Thanks," Henry said, still feeling awkward about that, but having heard it enough to be used to it, "Um, are you going to—?"
He gestured to Steve, who wasn't even trying to keep up his appearance for customers as he watched this unfold, and Eleanor looked over like she'd completely forgotten where she was.
"Oh, yeah. Scoop of chocolate in a bowl. Thanks," she said quickly before turning back to Henry, her friend taking over the transaction with a small smile on her face, "So, what're you up to? Where are you going in the fall?"
"Well, I've got one more year of high school," Henry offered, Eleanor raising her eyebrows.
"Really? You seem older." Henry was, the year behind after the Quarry made him so, but he didn't feel like explaining that and so he didn't, "I'm headed to Purdue."
"Congr—"
"We should totally hang out before I leave!"
The smile on Henry's face slipped away, replaced with a slightly slacked-jaw and eyes widened in horror. His expression was a dead giveaway of how he felt about that proposition, but no matter how many times he wore it, it was always misread as the reaction of a sweet man who just didn't have a lot of experience with women.
"Oh, I—"
"Here," Eleanor said, grabbing a napkin and the pen her friend was already offering, moving far too fast for Henry to stop what was happening, no matter how badly he wanted to, "Give me a call."
Eleanor shoved the napkin into Henry's hand, and before he could say anything to at least mitigate this, her friend was pulling her along after her, holding their ice creams, both of them giggling.
For a long moment, it was silent in Scoops Ahoy; Henry holding a phone number he really didn't want, wishing he could sink through the floor and never have to acknowledge the two people that had just witnessed that.
"Well," Robin said, marking the whiteboard, "That's one 'You Rule' for Henry."
Henry looked over sideways, feeling guilty for something he knew he shouldn't, and found Steve wearing an indecipherable expression. He didn't seem amused by what had just occurred in front of him, or even annoyed that the girl he was going to try to land was stolen away. Instead, his eyes stayed on Eleanor, even as she walked away, with a look on his face that Henry wasn't sure he'd ever seen before. And he didn't know if that made him feel better or worse.
"You shouldn't go out with her," Steve said suddenly, Henry frowning in confusion, "Eleanor Harrell makes her boyfriend's wear matching outfits with her. That's weird."
"I wasn't really planning on asking her out," Henry said, choosing not to comment on the outfit thing, and Steve nodded, satisfied, giving the retreating figure one last look before he focused back on Henry.
"Can I take you to lunch on your birthday?" He asked, seemingly happy to put that behind them, and Henry didn't have a problem with following; the quicker he could forget about what had just happened, the better, "I know your parents probably want you for dinner, so…"
Henry held back a smile. His birthday was fast approaching, and he was in the final week before he'd officially become an adult. Honestly, the whole thing made him feel weird for a lot of different reasons he didn't want to dwell on right now. But, that wasn't why he was trying to play it cool.
It was what he knew was right behind the curtain.
"I thought we were going to the carnival for my birthday," Henry said innocently, cocking his head a little as he watched the realization wash over Steve.
"O-oh, yeah, yeah," Steve stumbled over his words, nodding in the way Henry knew would make that little piece of hair in the front bounce if it wasn't for the sailor hat on his head, "But, I mean, that's the day before, not your actual birthday. It-it's not the same, you know?"
"Well then, you could come to my birthday dinner. It's just going to be at my house, my mom won't mind," Henry offered, blasé as ever, although his focus never strayed from Steve.
"Oh," Steve said, his eyes flashing around with a hint of panic as he fought and failed to keep his expression casual, "Um, that would be nice. But, I want to take you out, my treat."
"Okay, sure, sounds fun," Henry finally gave in, smiling mildly. Still, though, his attention was unwavering on the man in front of him. And even though neither one of them had anything else to say on the matter, they continued to stare at each other; Henry's expression blandly pleasant, with absolutely nothing of note crossing it.
Steve shut his eyes, and with a heavy sigh, he let his head hang.
"Who told you?"
"Told me what?" Henry said, but now it was clear that the innocence in his voice was purely a façade. Steve looked up to level him with a glare, and he knew there was no point in keeping the act going, "The kids aren't subtle, you know that."
"You're acting surprised," Steve ordered, "El's really excited to surprise you."
Henry feigned a reaction, far more sarcastic than the one he'd fake on the 5th—when the kids jumped out from different spots in the Byers' house— and Steve snorted.
"It's a start," he said before giving him a look, "Can I really come to your birthday dinner?"
"Yeah, of course, man," Henry said, and Steve smiled, pleased as anything, "You know my mom loves you. We all do."
Again, it was silent as the pair stared at each other. Now though, the agreeable expression on Henry's face didn't appear quite so natural. It stayed where it was, sure, but that was because it was frozen.
One second too long passed.
Two seconds too long passed.
The moment was broken before the third, the sound of someone clearing their throat a merciful interruption.
"Oh, Will, hey," Henry said, finally able to move again, his voice coming out a little too fast and high, "Ready to go? Okay. Let's go. See you tomorrow, Steve. Bye, Robin!"
Henry put his hands on Will's shoulders and steered him out of Scoops, not looking back, not even when the two teenagers called out goodbye behind them.
"I know, I know, I heard it," he hissed once they were in the clear.
"So long as you heard it," Will said, a smile in his voice.
The pair weaved through what remained of the mall crowd, side-by-side now, and Henry had to hold back a curse. He knew what was coming once they were out of hearing range of the other Hawkins' residents, and he could already feel hot embarrassment worming its way into his stomach; he didn't need Will to make it even worse.
"This doesn't prove anything, okay?" Henry said preemptively, once they were out in the parking lot and getting into the Cutlass, "I got weird because you keep bringing it up."
"I'm going to keep bringing it up until you admit it to yourself," Will replied, sounding oh-so proud of himself. There was a time where that sort of self-confidence would've made Henry beam. Hell, it still would, but not when it was because he'd gotten him into a corner in their ongoing argument.
"It's just a crush," Henry said for what felt like the millionth time, "It's gone on for a while, I will admit that. But, it'll pass eventually."
"Face the music, Henry, you are in love."
Those words sent a stab of something through his frame, and Henry sighed hard through his nose as he waited for it to dissipate. He appreciated Will saving him from that painfully awkward moment, sure, but he'd known the price he'd pay for having said those dreaded four letters in front of him. It'd been months of this—of Will insisting the feelings he harbored for Steve were the strongest there could be. That he was fully and completely in love with Steve.
Henry wouldn't deny that there were feelings there, but they weren't concrete like Will thought. They were because Steve was hot and nice and in his general vicinity a lot. Hell, he wouldn't even deny that there was love there, because there was. But, it was platonic, the kind of love you felt for your best friend. And sometimes they got a little muddled, but Henry knew it wasn't what Will thought. He wasn't in love with Steve. He wasn't.
"It's just a crush," Henry repeated for the million-and-one-th time, "It'll pass."
"So, when this crush passes, are you going to tell him you're gay?" Will asked casually, and Henry looked over at him sharply, "Hey, I wouldn't mention it if it wasn't literally the only reason you haven't told him."
"It's not the only reason," Henry replied.
"Oh, yeah?" Will said, tilting his head, "What're the other ones?"
For the first time since they'd hopped in at the mall parking lot, the Cutlass was silent.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," Will said after he'd let the awkward moment ride for a bit longer than necessary, once again sounding terribly smug, and now that Henry could find the words, he just couldn't help himself.
"Okay, what's your excuse then, Byers? What about your friends?"
The reaction was instantaneous: Will's eyes dropped to his hands, his pleased aura disappeared, and the car was quiet again. But, this wasn't that awkward silence as someone searched for an answer they wouldn't be able to find, this was the kind that made a twist of guilt appear in Henry's chest.
"Sorry," he said after a moment, "I mean, don't dish it if you can't take it, but still. Sorry."
"I was lost in the Upside Down for a week and then I was possessed by a monster trying to end the world, I think I should be allowed to dish it and not take it."
Will's blunt statement shocked a laugh out of Henry, and when he looked over, he found a small smile had reappeared on his face.
"Wow, really? Pulling that one out, huh?" He replied, grinning as he said it. Will shrugged a little and didn't say anything else, but Henry could tell that the discomfort and pain had passed. It was still a tender spot for Will, he always winced a little when it came up, but Henry knew that it was getting easier every day.
With that moment behind them, the car was quiet for a little bit. Comfortably at first, with the only sound the mixtape Will had put on at some point during their playful argument (the one he'd forced Jonathan to make and then designated Henry's Car Mix with Sharpie).
But, as time went on, that easy feeling slowly began to crumble into pieces.
Because, in the lull, Henry's mind began to drift, and once again he was all too aware of what was hidden away in his pocket.
Ah, watch out
You might get what you're after
Cool babies
Strange but not a stranger
"How was the movie?" Henry asked, suddenly very interested in filling the silence, "Worth seeing?"
"Yeah! Really good," Will said, genuinely enthusiastic before he rolled his eyes, "Missed the trailers because of Mike, though."
"Sorry," Henry replied, and usually he'd have more to say than that, but Will didn't need any more prodding right now.
"He just spends so much time with her," he said, his frustration becoming more apparent in each word, "He doesn't want to do anything else. We haven't played D&D in months."
"I know," Henry said, gently reassuring, but entirely honest.
Henry was well aware of Will's ongoing strife with his friends. The rest of the party seemed to have no idea about the way they were grating on his nerves, but Henry didn't think Will really knew what was going on either. Because on the outside looking in, it was pretty clear his irritation was less because Mike had been blowing off the party, and more about what his friends getting girlfriends represented on a whole.
He never mentioned it, he knew it would be better to allow him to process it on his own, and he certainly wouldn't right now. Not when he couldn't get his mind to focus on anything other than those few moments of black that had left him feeling cold. As he questioned whether there was something lurking in the darkness or if his mind had once again allowed the shadows to play tricks on him.
"Hey, did the movie stop?" Henry asked suddenly, fighting for nonchalance, "The power went out in the mall."
"Oh, yeah!" Will replied, nodding a little, "Just for a few seconds, right at the beginning, and then it was back on. Probably because the power grid was never built to have Starcourt on it."
With each word, Will was the picture of indifference that Henry had been trying so hard to capture before. He knew the kid well enough to know when he was putting up an act, and this wasn't it. Each word dripped with sincerity, which meant whatever he'd felt that moment when things had gone black had been felt by him and him alone.
He should be happy about that. Happy that the power going out hadn't sent a chill down Will's spine like it had his. Happy to have another sign that what he'd experienced had been all in his head.
"Yeah…" Henry agreed, feeling more lost than ever, "Yeah, probably."
-.
Bzzt
Bzzt
Bzzt
Henry was far from awake when his hand shot out and slammed the top of his clock.
It took him a few more moments to fully come into consciousness, and it wasn't until a few more moments after that did he realize how late he'd slept. That alarm was more of a safety net than a wake-up call; he was usually well on his way to being a human when that thing went off. But, this morning had been the off-chance he'd been preparing for, and it had come in handy.
He shouldn't be surprised. The night had been a long one. He'd spent hours staring at the dark ceiling, unwilling to shut his eyes no matter how they drooped, allowing the nervous feelings churning in his stomach to keep him from ever truly relaxing.
He hadn't struggled to fall asleep, he'd refused to.
He'd known what was waiting for him. He'd known what would happen once he'd let himself slip into unconsciousness. Not a good night of sleep, but unrestful hours of—
Nothing.
Henry sat up slowly, a frown on his face.
There'd been no tossing and turning, no chopped up images and strange feelings. He'd dreamed of absolutely nothing last night. He hadn't been met with what scared him most in the world. He'd had an uninterrupted night.
Instinctively, his eyes landed on the desk drawer he'd thrown the small piece of paper into and all but slammed shut last night.
He hadn't had a single vision.
Whirr
Whirr
The sputtering was his second rude awakening of the day.
For a moment, Henry gripped the wheel a little too tightly; taking a long, deep breath as he processed the worrying sound his engine was making. But, he got his emotions under control pretty quickly, considering everything, and he stepped out of the car and into the steadily building heat of a morning in late June.
The Cutlass had been on the fritz lately, leaving Henry with just another reason for a vague feeling of foreboding. He wasn't looking forward to when he had to move on from this car, and he was doing his best to make sure that day wasn't for a while, no matter the signals of approaching irreparableness.
Henry popped the hood and bent down to take a look at the engine he probably knew better than his own face, but he sighed a little when the problem wasn't immediately obvious. He'd suspected it wouldn't be, and one look at his watch was all he needed to confirm what he'd been dreading since long before his car hadn't roared to life like it should have.
Today was going to be all wrong.
Ding-Ding
The sound of the bell above the door was familiar—he'd come into this store dropping off and picking up a certain middle schooler enough times to be well accustomed to it—but the emptiness was something relatively new. He did feel a tad bit guilty that his employer was running this place out of business, but he figured that would happen no matter if he got his 3.50 an hour or not.
"Welcome to Melvald's."
"Hey, Joyce," Henry replied, smiling a little when she poked her head around to see him.
"Oh, hi Henry," she said, warm as ever, "Can I get you anything? Thank you for bringing Will home last night, by the way."
"Of course," Henry said, as he always did when she thanked him for something he'd never think twice about, "And, no, I'm good. I gotta catch the bus, I figured you wouldn't mind me waiting in the A/C with you."
"That car finally give out on you?"
The familiar voice was somewhat of a surprise, but not an unwelcome one, and as Henry turned the corner down the aisle Joyce was working on, he was met with the sight of the Chief sitting on a lower shelf.
He didn't spend a whole lot of time with Hopper or Joyce these days, but they'd been through far too much together to be anything other than friends. Besides, even if they didn't have heart-to-hearts, they were around each other (or each other's kids, at least) enough that they were consistent presences in each other's lives.
Enough for Henry to see that the affection Hopper held for Joyce had gone beyond idle feelings.
He wondered for a moment if maybe he'd walked in on something he shouldn't have, if Hopper had finally plucked up the courage to make the move they all knew was on his mind (Henry hoped not, he'd owe Steve five bucks if he did before August). But, all it took was one look at his face to know that no matter what this was, it was far from romantic.
"Didn't have time to figure out what's wrong with it now," Henry said, shrugging a little before he tilted his head, "What's going on with you?"
Instead of replying, Hopper just looked into the distance and breathed hard out of his nose. Henry knew him well enough to know that wasn't aimed at him, so instead of taking offense, he just turned to Joyce.
"Mike and El are spending a lot of time together," Joyce explained, understanding rushing over Henry. He'd heard all about it from Will, of course, but he hadn't considered that anyone but him might be having a bit of an issue with it.
"What, just hanging out?" Henry asked, and he thought he might've seen Joyce's lip twitch a little.
"And kissing."
"It is constant!" Hopper exploded, jumping out of his seat, "It is constant. Okay, that is not normal. That is not healthy."
Henry watched with raised eyebrows as the Chief of Hawkins Police stalked around the small general store, looking one second away from genuinely pulling his hair out over his daughter's relationship, and it took a lot of self-control to not laugh. It was clear he'd been working himself into a lather before he'd entered mid-conversation, and that his frustrations had been a long time coming.
"You can't just force them apart," Joyce interjected, helpful and thoughtful as always, "I mean, they're not little kids anymore, Hop, they're teenagers. If you order them around like a cop then they're going to rebel. It's just what they do."
"So, what? I'm just supposed to let them do whatever they want?" Hopper replied.
"Well, have you considered that?" Henry asked before he could stop himself, and he knew he'd said something unexpected the moment both adults looked at him like they thought they'd must've misheard. But, he plowed on anyway, partly because he had a point, and the rest because there was no going back now, "I mean, Mike's a dork, he's not going to try anything. And if they're just kissing, who cares? El will probably get bored soon anyway."
"You know what?' Hopper snapped, "When you 'just kiss' your way into fatherhood, you can have an opinion. Until then, I don't want to hear it."
Henry knew he should have a sharp retort that would put them back on a level playing field, like he would in any other circumstance. Like he would at any other tad bit too abrasive statement that came out of Hopper's mouth. But, he had nothing.
Those words stung a little bit more than they should.
"Um, Henry?" Joyce's voice broke the awkward moment of silence, and he turned to see that she was pointing out the front window towards the bus that was slowly coming to a stop.
"See you later," Henry murmured, doing his best to sound normal and only failing a little bit as he headed out of the store and hurried towards the bus. He had no way of knowing the admonishing look Joyce sent Hopper once he was out, and his simple reply of "What?"
He wanted to blame Hopper for that, for the way those words had rocked him, but he just couldn't. Sure, any mention of him having a relationship with a woman put a bad taste in his mouth, and discussions of having kids always made him sad, but that had hurt. Like instead of running sandpaper across a scar, he'd dragged it over an open wound.
But, that seemed to just be the day he was having, because everything felt off, even though he didn't know why. What happened last night couldn't be the cause for all of this, not when he'd officially filed that away into prank/happenstance. And even if he hadn't, it would've made him frightened or anxious, not this.
He just felt so weird.
Clunk
Henry pulled his time card out of the machine and grimaced a little; he always hated that sound, and today it grated on his nerves just a little bit more.
"You're late," Charlie said casually from behind the counter as Henry made his way out into the front of Sam Goody.
"Sorry," Henry offered, not feeling very committed to that apology, but sounding genuine enough, "Car wouldn't start."
"No big deal," Charlie replied, shrugging a little and turning his eyes back down to the magazine he'd been reading when Henry had hurried in, "Sharon Calhoun was pouting when she had to go back to Orange Julius, though."
Henry grimaced a little, and he heard Charlie chuckle. He knew he should be more discreet about that, but he couldn't help himself sometimes. Besides, he was pretty sure his boss only thought he was annoyed by the constant attention and nothing else, going off of the way he'd tease him about how so hard he had it.
"Can you go check out the Jazz section?" Charlie asked, "She was pretending to go through them and I think she started putting things in the wrong order."
Henry sighed; he'd been hoping to have something mindless to fill his time with, but he wasn't so pleased that it was because a girl he didn't even want to be friends with got annoyed he wasn't there for her to pointlessly flirt with. But, he didn't comment on it, and just headed back to one of the less traversed sections in the store.
Henry started flipping through records and replacing them where they belonged, a familiar task in normal surroundings, while he tried to ignore how it didn't feel ordinary at all
"Ahoy!"
The call was loud enough to be heard over the constant bustle of the mall, but so sarcastic that anyone who heard it would know that it was a joke, not someone taking their job way too seriously. Henry knew who it was before he looked, but he still felt a corner of his mouth jerk upwards when his eyes landed on Robin smirking behind the counter.
He moseyed into Scoops, even though he'd had really no intention of coming over. His mind had been set on the bench out behind Starcourt, where he could have some peace to think and a cigarette. He couldn't hold it against Robin, though. She probably thought he was headed here. He almost always did on his break.
"How's he doing?" Henry asked, and Robin grinned.
"0 for 7," she replied, leaning forward on the counter, "I rewatched Eraserhead last night, and I see what you were saying about his passiveness."
"Yeah, he really doesn't actively do shit until, you know, he kills the baby," Henry reiterated from their earlier conversation, and behind Robin, the divider slid open and revealed Steve in the backroom. Henry glanced back and forced his best smile for him before his gaze shifted back down to the girl in front of him, "Guy who made it definitely has a thing about having kids, though, you were totally right there."
"That's not really special for horror," Robin said, leaning her chin in her hand, "I mean, Rosemary's Baby."
"Frankenstein," Henry agreed, and the pair of them nodded at each other.
The entire conversation, Henry was vaguely aware that Steve was looking at him, but that wasn't entirely out of the ordinary. When he and Robin got going on something like this (music, movies, books, all a little bit stranger than anyone else they knew in the town of Hawkins would prefer), Steve would just quietly watch until he could come up with something to say, usually not particularly on topic but always charming. Henry got the sense that he would get a tad bit annoyed when they were engrossed in a subject he couldn't really contribute too, and under ordinary circumstances, he'd try to include him, but right now he didn't have it in him.
Steve was coming out from the back now, so Henry figured he'd find a way to wiggle into the conversation without his help, at least.
"How is it over at Goody's?" Robin asked, smiling a little and not paying any attention to how Steve moved behind her, "Have any customers that weren't there just to ogle?"
"Um," Henry said, like he always did when this was brought up. He couldn't help but get at least a little awkward when someone referenced the attention he'd started getting since working in Starcourt (probably why Steve never mentioned it), but right now it wasn't because of the girls, it was because he really didn't have an answer.
He hadn't been there this shift. He'd been friendly and helpful, he was sure, but he hadn't really seen anyone. He'd just felt so strange, so off, that everything that happened around him was a little bit removed. And now that Robin mentioned it, he couldn't recall a single customer—ogling or otherwise—from the past few hours of working, only the weird feelings swirling inside of him.
Clap
Whatever answer Henry was going to come up with was forgotten as the sound of a cup of ice cream slapping down on the counter rang through the parlor.
There was no way he couldn't sense the way Robin was looking at him—clearly wondering what the hell his deal was—but Steve's eyes stayed firmly on Henry as he slid it a little bit closer; wearing a pleasant smile that was blatantly phony.
"On the house."
To be perfectly honest, Henry didn't really want ice cream. Getting it free for a few weeks really killed the novelty, and he wasn't hungry—hadn't been all day. But, there was a strange glint in Steve's eye, something off behind his easy-going expression, that made Henry pick up the cup and obediently take a bite.
It was vanilla, covered in extra maraschino cherries and rainbow sprinkles; his favorite that he didn't get too often because he was trying to keep the gay thing on the down low. Of course Steve knew, because he noticed everything, and Henry actually appreciated it in this instance. After the first bite, the next ones were a lot more enthusiastic.
That seemed to please Steve, because he smiled a little more genuinely, and whatever it was that had been sitting behind the façade softened a little, even though Henry hadn't the faintest clue why.
"You were late this morning," Steve observed, and this time, Robin's look made him hurry to explain, "I can see you walking to Goody's, you were later than usual."
"My car broke down," Henry replied, not thinking anything of Steve seeing him in the mornings, not the way Robin did, "Had to take the bus."
"I'll drive you home," Steve said, and even though it was phrased casually, he really left no room to argue. Henry had no intentions of doing so though, and he just murmured thanks that felt unnecessary; they were so past having to thank each other for stuff like this, "You need one tomorrow morning?"
"Nah, probably not," Henry said, taking another bite before he continued, "I got a later shift, I should have it fixed by then."
"Or else you're going to have to give him a ride to the junkyard," Robin added, seemingly having moved past the weirdness that had just happened. Henry knew that he and Steve were the type of friends that anyone looking in on sometimes had to just shrug their shoulders at instead of getting hung up on what the hell they were doing, and Robin was better at that than anyone else. Probably one of the reasons he liked her so much.
"Oh, Christ."
The sudden exclamation drew the attention of all three of them, but Henry was quick to turn back down to his ice cream.
"Hi, Erica," he said casually, hearing but not seeing the way his younger sister sighed in exasperation and stomped closer.
"Don't you have a job?" She demanded, crossing her arms at him, "Why're you always here?"
"Why're you always hanging out with them?" Henry countered, his tone confrontational even while he waved at Tina, Joanna, and Sadie; all three of Erica's friends turning bashful and giggly. That response would make Henry uncomfortable, if the way his little sister's jaw clenched didn't amuse him so much.
But, it seemed she'd gotten better at getting her disgust under control (or would at least address it with her friends privately so as to not give him the pleasure), because Erica turned away from him and towards the two teens in sailor suits.
"I would like to try the chocolate chip," she said, and Steve dutifully grabbed a mini spoon to dig out a bite for her.
"You gotta stop giving her so many free samples," Henry said, wiping the triumphant smile off of his sister's face.
"She's abusing company policy," Robin agreed.
"I sleep on your couch all the time, I can't be on her bad side," Steve replied, and Henry couldn't fault him for that one. Especially when Erica smiled like that.
"Oh, so you paid for that ice cream?" She said, turning to her big brother, who became a tad bit flustered at being the one in the hot seat.
"He's my friend," Henry pointed out, and Erica scoffed. Instead of saying anything else, mostly because he really didn't have much of a leg to stand on here, Henry made a face at her, and Erica was quick to reply with one of her own.
"Henry?" Steve said with an amused smile, grabbing both of the Sinclairs' attention. Instead of saying anything though, he just gestured at the clock, and Henry sighed as he realized his break was already almost over.
"See you later?" He asked, and Steve grinned.
"Totally, man."
"I'm gonna think about the whole horror of parenthood thing," Henry said, eyes on Robin as he scraped the last bit of ice cream from the bottom of his cup. She smiled and nodded, and with a pull on one of Erica's ponytails—earning him a swear and a swipe—Henry made his way out of Scoop's Ahoy.
The mall seemed a little clearer now, a little less muffled, a little less blurry, and Henry felt a sense of optimism as he headed back over to work.
It wasn't until he was under the Sam Goody sign did Henry realize that had been the longest he'd gone all day without feeling strange.
-.
No matter what either of them did, the front gate would hit the ground with a crash that was a little too loud for comfort in the quiet mall. Henry and Charlie both winced and then exchanged a small smile of solidarity, like they always did when they closed together, before turning to walk out of Starcourt (something they usually ended up doing together too).
It was a little less genuine this time around, but Henry was good enough at playing like things were normal that his boss didn't notice.
There'd been a reprieve there, in the middle, when he'd spent those few blissful minutes in Scoops Ahoy. But then, he'd been alone, and all of those strange feelings had come flooding back. Things had gone out of focus, and everything around him became a misty backdrop to what was broiling inside.
Was there something wrong? Or was he just—
"Hey, Harrington," Charlie said, and that was more than enough to get Henry to look up from where he'd been studying the tiles on the ground.
Steve stood across from Sam Goody, still wearing that stupid sailor outfit, frowning a little with his arms on his hips.
Henry's heart might've skipped a few beats.
"Hey," he replied, and maybe there was something a bit terse about that. But, he always was a little around Charlie. Henry had asked why once, and Steve had shrugged and gave some half-hearted excuse about him being annoying in the stands during a basketball game once, which wasn't much of an answer, but he'd decided there was no reason to push.
"See you tomorrow, Henry," Charlie said, and Henry didn't know at what point he'd realized that if Steve was hanging around they wouldn't be walking to their cars together, but he did feel a little bit bad about it.
"See you," Henry replied, and Charlie walked off after a smile, leaving the two best friends alone.
"I saw Carly Harris hanging out with Tony Frane today," Steve said as a way of a greeting, and the pair began to make their way out of the now almost empty mall, only a few remaining employees keeping them from being entirely alone.
As they walked past the dark stores and empty benches, Steve talked about innocuous goings-ons at Scoops, but even Henry, who was having a hard time getting into it like he usually did, could tell that he wasn't feeling it today.
By the time they made it to Steve's car, neither one was talking. Sometime into their friendship they realized they could be quiet together and it wasn't weird, and Henry wouldn't deny that he enjoyed these moments a little bit more than most. But, not today. This wasn't that comfortable silence they shared, there was something hanging between them, something Henry couldn't manage to get past.
It wasn't until they were heading down familiar dark roads did words come easily to Henry, and that was only because they took an unexpected turn.
"So, are you taking me somewhere to murder me or…?" Henry joked, mostly to cover up his confusion, and Steve laughed a little.
"I saw Ricky yesterday," he replied, and that was more than enough.
The scenery outside the car soon turned from residential to forest, and after they drove for a little longer than what felt right, Steve turned down a makeshift dirt road that was both incredibly bumpy and pitch black. Henry sort of hated this part—who could blame him after everything he'd seen in these woods—but he held his breath and powered through, because soon enough they broke out of the trees.
Steve stopped the car, and Henry didn't wait to get out and take in the familiar sight; the grass they were parked on rose above both the woods in front of them and Hawkins on a whole, and when he stood here, he could see the sparkling lights of the town he lived in from a safe distance.
He always liked the view from this clearing, despite his many negative thoughts on the place he was looking at. He knew that it had nothing on a city like New York at night, but when he looked at Hawkins now, he could pretend it was a different type of place. A place he wanted to be. A place that would embrace him, no matter what.
"I wonder what it looked like last night, when the power went out."
Steve's words were incredibly innocent, and yet they sent a chill up Henry's spine. He'd had his moment to forget, but that one sentence had reminded him of exactly what kind of place Hawkins was. A place he didn't want to be. A place that would never fully accept him.
A place where terrible things could happen.
"Want the first hit?"
Again, Steve's voice pulled him from his thoughts, but this time it felt more like a lifeline than a rude awakening. He was sitting on the hood of his car, like they always did, and Henry quickly realized he was the one being weird right now by lingering at the passenger door. Wordlessly, he floated over to where Steve was lounging, and settled in next to him before he accepted the offered joint.
Despite any misgivings (he'd never really had a negative experience before, but he was having a pretty goddamn weird day already), Henry took a deep drag before handing it back, and he let his eyes turn out towards Hawkins again. At least, until Steve's coughs caught his attention. And even though he felt plagued with dread right now, he couldn't help but laugh.
"Shut up," Steve whined, like he always did when Henry teased him for choking, "It's not my fault I haven't been smoking since I was a baby like you."
"It's not my fault you're a pussy," Henry replied, snagging the joint from him before he realized what he'd just said.
A perfect mirror of something that had been said to him two years ago.
Right before he'd expressed his fear that what they'd just gone through wasn't over, and had been assured that it wasn't.
Fuck.
Henry took another deep pull, feeling weirder than ever, not even really understanding what it was that was dragging him down.
"Henry?"
Henry turned towards the sound of his name, and the awful tornado of feelings in him turned to ache the moment his eyes landed on Steve. Steve, with his warm eyes and soft hair. The guy who'd been there each time things had gone downhill, even if Henry hadn't realized it. He wanted to reach out and grab him and never let him go. Scared that if he didn't, he'd slip away and he'd be left alone again. Scared that if he did, he'd pull away on his own.
"Is it getting bad again?" Steve asked, his voice gentle but not patronizing, and his eyes steady, if concerned.
Suddenly, the ice cream made a lot of sense.
Henry thought about it a minute. He knew what Steve was asking, but he didn't know how to answer. Because he wasn't, was he? It didn't feel like he was. It didn't feel like every other time he'd "gotten bad." He just felt off, weird, strange. And he wasn't entirely sure why. Sure, the note, but why would that leave him feeling like this?
"I don't know," he finally murmured, his eyes down on the grass beneath his shoes, and he could hear Steve softly sigh.
"You know I'm here, right?" he said, matching his soft volume, "You can talk to me. I—I can help."
"I know," Henry said, still not looking up even though he could feel eyes on him, "I just—I feel weird. Like… something's changing."
Henry let go of a deep breath he'd been holding, probably ever since this morning, and even though it was far from fixing the problem, it did feel good to get it out.
"Well, things are changing."
Even though what he said was blunt, Steve's voice was gentle, and Henry could tell that he thought what he was saying was obvious.
"You're about to turn eighteen, you've got one more year of high school, and then..." He trailed off, and Henry knew he had to leave it there because of the endless possibilities of what could come next.
Steve was right. Henry knew that. He was on the precipice of change, one so big that most people went into it without ever facing anything nearly as major before in their lives. And even him, who'd faced far more than his fair share of life altering experiences, was staring down the barrel of a complete shift in what he considered normal.
Of course he'd felt like everything was changing, these were the last few months before senior year, and the last week before he'd become an adult. After this, his life would be different forever. Everyone his age probably felt this way.
And yet the only part of that that didn't feel like a lie was that his life was going to be different forever.
Yes, his life was changing. Yes, the fact that he was turning eighteen in a few days rocked him to his core. Yes, this was all normal.
No, that didn't explain how that damn note had made him feel like this.
"It's not just that," Henry finally said, his thoughts far from being in order, but his feelings becoming clearer, "It's not about me getting older. Or, not just that. There's something else. I… I just can't help but feel like there's something wrong, like we're not safe, and that there's nothing I can do about it right now."
"What's wrong?" Steve asked, and even though it was an easy question, one he hadn't even had to think about, it made Henry pause.
What was wrong?
Just the note. A weird note he'd gotten that had unfortunately coincided with the lights going out. Everything else had been just the same as it ever was. All of the kids were their normal selves, even Will, Hopper and Joyce were spending their time stressing about their children's love lives, no one but Henry seemed to be worried about anything at all.
And even Henry had slept dreamlessly.
So, really, what was wrong?
"Nothing," Henry whispered, looking Steve right in the eyes, "Nothing's wrong. It's just me."
Steve's face softened into sympathy, but Henry didn't think he realized how much of a relief that was.
He was just an average kid with fears of his future. One who had a brain that liked to turn on him, that would take anything it could find and twist into a nightmare. This wasn't anything new, and right now he'd rather deal with his fucked up head than anything it wanted him to believe was waiting right around the corner.
But, he still appreciated it when Steve scooted a little bit closer and knocked his shoulder against his. Although probably not for the reason he ought to.
"I got you, man," he murmured, and Henry's smile was small, but came much easier.
"I know," he replied, and without another word he laid back against the hood. Steve's eyes followed him, and he knew he was wondering if he was okay or if this was his way of deflecting, but the marijuana was beginning to make itself known in his system, and his gaze felt heavy on him in a way Henry knew he didn't intend.
Henry relaxed into the unforgiving metal of the BMW's hood, feeling a familiar sense of calm that always found him these moments, despite the day he'd had. He always laid back when they came out here to smoke; at first it had been because weed made him a bit sleepy, but after the first few times he found himself lounging on the car long before he started getting lethargic. Henry held his hand out and accepted the joint without looking over.
"What's that one?" he asked after taking a puff, his eyes up at the dark sky above them.
"How many times do I have to tell you that I don't know constellations?" Steve replied, and Henry's heart picked up a few beats as he felt his best friend settle back onto the hood beside him, just like he always did. Henry pushed that feeling down and handed the joint back over.
"Figure you'll just read up on it one day because I keep asking," Henry replied, Steve snorting.
"You saw my SAT results, right?" He countered, "You shouldn't come to me for this."
"Yeah, you're right," Henry agreed, "I'll ask Dustin."
The pair chuckled, and again it was quiet, with only the cicadas and the very distant sound of cars between them. Henry continued to admire the sparkling stars above, the tiniest bit clearer now that they were out of the town, and he was able to wonder what those before him had labelled them in peace.
"What're you going to do after high school?"
Steve did a lot more than disrupt the silence with that, and Henry must've instinctively made a face, because the laughter that followed was genuine, if soft.
"Sorry, man, you've got me thinking about it now," Steve said, the humor in his voice only just barely covering up what was underneath it. Something a little less light, a little less easy. Something that made replying a little more difficult than it should be.
This was far from the first time Henry had been asked that question, although it almost always came from adults who already had their own idea of what his answer should be. Usually he'd play it off somehow and change the subject, and when that didn't work, like with his parents, well… He'd stumble through until they were satisfied.
But, this wasn't an adult with preconceived notions, this was Steve. He could be honest, even if it made him feel uncomfortable.
"College, I guess," Henry said, choosing to keep his eyes on the joint in-between his fingers, "I don't know."
It was quiet for a minute. Henry knew his lack of conviction was apparent in his voice, and that someone who knew him as well as Steve could read between the lines.
The truth was that he didn't have an answer. Because he hadn't thought about it. Ever. And now that it was becoming a pressing issue, he just didn't know how to start. It made his stomach turn over on itself every time his mind drifted to what he'd be doing in a year. Even right now, at just a casual question, the nebulous nature of his future made him feel a tad bit sick.
No wonder he thought something was wrong.
"You're going out of state."
Regardless of the steadiness and certainty in which he spoke, Steve jarred everything with that. He sounded awfully confident—almost like he was repeating a well-known fact—even though Henry himself had no idea where he was headed next, and his lip twitched despite it all.
"I am?" He countered, Steve snorting.
"Of course you are, you hate it here," he said as if it was obvious, raising the joint to his lips and squinting a little, "California. I could see you in California."
Henry stayed quiet this time. He could see himself in California too. Somewhere warm, bigger, where there were a million different types of people and nearly everyone was at least a little more accepting of others.
He'd actually thought about it before, long before, when it had been a passing fantasy instead of a viable possibility. When it had been him and Barb instead of Steve.
It hurt to think about then, and it did now too. Just for different reasons.
"This is my last year with you, huh?"
Steve's words jolted Henry out of his thoughts once again, but this time he snapped to look over. He quickly remembered though, why he'd made the no looking at Steve when he's next to you like this rule, but it was too late now, and when his heart beat faster, he just prayed that Steve couldn't tell, despite how close they were.
"W-What're you talking about?" He whispered, his voice entirely too weak.
"Well, you're not going to come back here," Steve answered, still so sure of himself but not sounding the slightest bit happy about it, "I mean, maybe for a few weeks during the summer and holidays, but other than that…"
Steve's voice ran out of steam, but he didn't need to say anything else. Henry knew what he meant. He knew he was right. That was something he'd promised himself when he was a kid; if he ever managed to make it out, he'd stay gone. But, even though it'd been what he'd been dreaming of for as long as he could remember, he felt a lump in his throat. Not for this town, though. For the man next to him.
"You don't have to stay," Henry murmured, Steve scoffing and turning back up towards the night sky.
"Yeah, well, you saw my SAT score," he replied, bitterness sneaking into his voice before he took a deep breath. Henry watched as he pulled whatever harsh emotions snuck out back under control and replace them with something less sharp, but a lot sadder. It wasn't an unfamiliar reaction, but Henry hated it. Always had.
"Listen, I'm happy for you. You deserve to get out of here. I want you to," Steve said, and it was clear that he meant every word, "But… I'm jealous, man. You're going to go to college and be a cool new person in some cool new place with all of these cool new people and—and I just want you to enjoy it, okay? Because I'm going to be stuck here forever."
Steve let go of a breath that was far shakier than he'd likely ever admit, and it was clear that had been weighing on him long before this conversation. He'd flippantly mentioned once or twice something about living in this town for the rest of his life, but never had he expressed how helpless he felt about it.
Maybe that was because of what he said next. Maybe because it hadn't occurred to him before. Maybe because it somehow only crushed him further.
"Hawkins is gonna be a lot less bearable without you."
"They have ice cream parlors in California."
The words tumbled out of Henry's mouth before he could even think about it. He'd been desperate to say it, say anything, and that leaked into his voice. It was easy for anyone to hear how urgent this was to him, how badly he wanted for what he had to say to be the fix he needed. He didn't even care that what he had to offer was childish. He'd make a million suggestions, he'd pay every penny himself, if it meant saving Steve from the fate he'd resigned himself to.
Steve looked over at him again, and Henry could tell that it had been his turn to catch him by surprise. He wasn't quite sure what had done it. Maybe the idea that he could get out of Hawkins with or without the grades to back him up had been new, or the far too frantic way he'd said it, Henry had no way of knowing. But, when a small smile cracked on Steve's face, he let it go, because why question a good thing?
"I guess you're right," he said, chuckling a little, "They have ice cream parlors in California."
The pair smiled at each other, and the life Steve had been so convinced he couldn't escape seemed to fade away until it was nothing but a distant nightmare. Like something so dreadful could never happen in the same universe as what they had right here. And Henry thought he'd be happy to exist now—basking in the beam of his best friend's grin—for the rest of his life.
But, the longer the moment stretched on, the stranger it became. Henry watched the pleasant expression slip off of Steve's face and be replaced with something he didn't quite understand: big eyes, blinking a little too much, and his lips pressed together a bit too tightly.
Suddenly, he turned away and looked back up at the sky.
"I'm too high."
Henry snorted, couldn't help himself; Steve said that almost every time they smoked, no matter the amount. He wasn't sure what it was that made him think that, but he'd never pass up an opportunity to make fun of him.
"Lightweight," he teased, earning himself an elbow to the ribs. Instead of retaliating, he sat up and stretched; that statement from Steve was usually the sign of the end of their little smoke session. Besides, they both had work tomorrow, and Henry at least should get home before his parents began to wonder where he was.
"I'll drive," Henry offered, and Steve hummed in agreement. The two boys headed to opposite sides than before, and Steve was quick to duck into the passenger seat, but Henry allowed himself one last look at the dazzling stars before he disappeared into the car.
-.
"You good to get home?" Henry asked, putting the BMW in park.
"Yeah, man, I'm fine," Steve replied, and they stepped out of the car and into the warm summer night air.
The street was quiet, dark except for the streetlights and the small lamps on the front of houses. Most people were probably in bed or at least preparing for it right now, but it wasn't anything new for him and Steve to be the last ones out and about in these suburbs. Henry liked it. Sort of like they were the only two in the world.
"Hey, c'mere," Steve called, breaking Henry out of his thoughts, and he followed him around to the back of his car even though he didn't have the slightest clue why.
Henry watched wordlessly as Steve unlocked his trunk and reached in, but it wasn't until he had the bat with nails in hand did confusion force him to speak.
"What?" Henry managed, unsure of what to say. He knew Steve kept that back here, he didn't blame him, it had come in handy far too often. What he didn't understand was why he was holding it out with that look on his face.
"You said you didn't feel safe, right?" Steve said, putting it a little more forward, "I want you to take this."
"But—" Henry started, not entirely sure where he was going with that, he had far too many options. But, I told you, it's just me. But, I have a gun. But, what about you? But, before he could say anything, Steve interjected again.
"C'mon, man, it'll make me feel better."
Henry looked up from the bat now, and right at Steve. He could see in his expression that he meant what he said. Somehow, taking this bat would make him feel better.
Somehow, him feeling safer would make Steve feel better.
Henry felt warmth bloom in his chest, and he reached out to take the bat; only heating up more when Steve smiled.
"See you tomorrow?" He said, less of a question and more of an acknowledgement of what was certain.
"Yeah," Henry murmured, softer, "See you then."
Steve grinned like he'd actually confirmed something that he'd been wondering, and Henry felt himself light up on the inside. He was always more susceptible to it when he was under the influence—it was something he was on guard for—but he just couldn't help himself when Steve smiled at him like that. It made him feel a way he never had before, and he still didn't know what to do with himself when it happened.
The feeling stayed even once Steve's BMW pulled away and he was making the hike up to his garage. He stowed the bat in his trunk—maybe lingering over it for a moment longer than he should—before heading inside and making a beeline to the kitchen; even without taking the substances into account, he hadn't had dinner yet.
He was pulling a foil covered plate out of the fridge when he heard the familiar sound of someone hopping down the stairs, and he knew it was his mama before he ever even saw her.
"Hey, Baby," Judith murmured, already wrapped up in her robe with a bonnet on her head, "How was work?"
"Fine," Henry said with a shrug, keeping it short out of necessity; he couldn't quite trust himself right now.
"Well, the Carmichaels' dog got into the yard again, dug up half of it before your father could get to it," Judith started, pouring herself a glass of water, "I told Mary that she needs to start leashing the thing or fix the fence before it ended up in the road, and she got offended. I'm sorry I care more about keeping your pet alive than you do, but—"
While his mother went on a familiar tirade against their neighbors, Henry contented himself with digging into the pork chop she'd made hours earlier for dinner. Usually he could stay pretty invested in whatever gossip his mom had about the community, but tonight his mind kept straying. It might've been because of the marijuana, but it was probably the fault of his mind's desperation to stay on one thing: Steve.
He'd like to say that what he was stuck on was the fact Steve chose to give him his bat, or even that he was certain that he'd go out of state for college, but the truth of the matter was that the only thing he could think about was the way he'd looked next to him on the hood of the car. He had a rule about not looking at him when they were smoking for a reason, but god, now that they were parted he could really appreciate it without fear of consequence. How handsome he was, how close he'd been, how softly he'd looked at him, how easy it would've been to lean over and…
He'd sunk so deeply into the memory of Steve that he didn't notice right away when his mom stopped talking. When his thoughts turned shy though, he realized the kitchen was far quieter than it should've been, and he looked up to find his mom staring at him with the oddest expression. Like she'd seen something she'd never noticed before.
"What?" He asked, suddenly very self-aware. He didn't seem to be doing anything that would give away his high, but who knew? Mom's usually had a way of telling from the smallest hint.
But, she didn't say anything like that. Just kept looking at him with soft eyes, a small smile pulling on her lips.
"Nothing," she whispered, "Do you need anything before I go to bed?"
Henry shook his head wordlessly, and with a kiss on the cheek and one last look, his mom headed towards the stairs; leaving him to wonder what the hell that'd been about.
"Oh, Henry," Judith called, and Henry turned to see her leaning from her spot up the stairs, "There's some mail for you, I left it in your room."
"Thanks," Henry replied, still thrown off by the interaction they'd just had, "Good night."
"Good night, Baby."
And with that, Judith disappeared up the stairs. But, that look on her face stayed where it was. Refusing to budge, even once she'd climbed into bed next to her husband.
"What?" Charles asked, glancing up from his book to see his wife's expression. An uncommon, but familiar one; so full of happiness and pride it looked like she might burst.
"Henry's in love."
"What?" Charles said, like he must've misheard.
"He is," Judith insisted, softening further as she recalled those moments with her son in the kitchen, "I could see it on his face."
Charles sighed a little—never one to doubt his wife, but also well aware of his son's track record with romance—and turned back to his book before he replied.
"Are you sure that's not the pot, dear?"
Judith didn't even give him the courtesy of letting him remove his reading glasses before she nailed him in the face with a pillow.
-.
Once the dishes were cleaned and put away, Henry hopped up the stairs towards his bedroom. Usually after his shift ended, he had it in him for at least a little TV or something, but after a long day full of weird feelings, the substances in him beginning to wear off, and a nice big meal, Henry was ready to collapse into his bed and actually enjoy another dreamless night.
The moment his eyes landed on his mail, those hopes were dashed away.
Henry froze in his doorway, staring at the envelope resting on his bed. It should've been innocuous, it probably had been for his mom when she'd put it there, but right now it was like he was face-to-face with a harbinger, just waiting to be opened and flood his life with uncertainty and fear.
Even from across the room, he recognized the scratchy handwriting that had written his address.
Henry slowly approached it, almost like it would snap at him if he went too fast, and after a moment of staring at it contrasted against his comforter, he reached down to pick it up. It was thicker than the last one, he could tell that just from holding it, and he wanted nothing more than to throw it in the garbage and forget about it. But, he knew better than that. He knew better than to ignore what the universe gives you. So with a deep breath, he tore open the envelope, and withdrew the paper from the inside.
He was right, it was bigger, but it wasn't a note or a letter. It was a page from a book, torn edges proving that much. And that should've been comforting. It should've made him feel better that it wasn't some ominous communication that happened to coincide with what was about to happen.
But, it didn't.
The blood drained out of Henry's face and he felt himself get very lightheaded. So badly that he had to sit down on his bed to keep from collapsing; spots in his vision obscuring what he was holding, but not enough that he could escape from what was in front of him.
A textbook entry on Cassiopeia.
The constellation he'd pointed out to Steve.