Hi, thank you to everyone who reviewed, favourited or followed my story. It really means a lot. Thanks to Alikatt for all the help, and to multisabata, as something weird happened with the computing and they pointed it out. All characters belong to the Duffer Brothers.
In the nicer end of Chicago, there was a small, unassuming house. Four windows, a door, hanging baskets. Nothing really made it stand out.
But inside, chaos reigned.
Mike Wheeler, Will Byers, Lucas Sinclair, and Dustin Henderson were in the middle of what looked like the most intense game of Dungeons and Dragons ever played in the history of board games.
`Roll a seven, roll a seven!'
`No, don't cast protection, throw a fireball!'
`The thesselhydra stalks closer-'
`Seven! Seven!'
`Boys!' Mrs Wheeler shouted down to them. `A little less noise, please.' All of them shut up simutaneously. Their current location was the Wheeler's basement. It was fairly roomy, with beanbags, board games, and a desk shoved in the corner. In the centre was a table, with four chairs around it. At it's centre was the board game, figurines balanced on it.
There was a collection of mumbled `sorry Mrs Wheeler's and `sorry Mom's. Mrs Wheeler shut the door.
`The Thesselhydra has run out of patience with your squabbling,' Mike continued, quieter but no less dramatic. `It throws back it's heads and roars-' Mike demonstrated- `and kills you all.'
`Son of a bitch,' Dustin muttered, throwing down his figurine. `Thought we had him then.'
`So, did you get that maths homework to Woodhouse on time?' Will asked, starting to pack up the Dungeons and Dragons set. `I can't believe you forgot to do the worksheet.'
`Oh, yeah. That,' Mike said nonchalantly, feeling heat rise up his cheeks. `I managed to get it done.' Mike began clearing up the Dungeons and Dragons so vigorously he knocked over his can of coke. Lucas and Dustin jumped up like they'd been given electric shocks, soda all over them.
`Mike!' Yelped Lucas, flapping about his T-Shirt. `Mom just got me this!'
`Sorry! I-I'll get something to clean it up.' Mike sped up the stairs. Just thinking about that girl on the other side of the bookshelf made him feel embarrassed.
As he dug around underneath the sink for dish cloths, Mike's mind rewound right back to the morning. Dustin had suddenly asked him about the maths worksheet Mr Woodhouse had set them on Friday.
`Wait, what?'
Dustin's eyes had gone wide. `The homework he set for today, for us to do over the weekend. And he said that we'd get a detention if we didn't do it.'
`I can't get detention! Mom's gonna kill me!'
Dustin's hands had started flapping like there was no tomorrow, a nervous habit of his that drove pretty much everyone up the wall. Luckily, Will had taken control and kept his head.
`Go to the library,' he said quickly. `We'll say that you fell over on your bike and went to the nurse.'
`Okay, thanks!'
`Quick!'
Mike ran down the stairs and barged into the library through the back entrance so he wouldn't have to risk getting caught by the librarian. He skidded to a halt, closed the door behind him, and made his way to a secluded corner. The desks were covered in anatomically incorrect grafitti. Someone had started to write `This will be a massive waste of time' in correction fluid; unfortunately, they'd clearly been caught because the sentence died after the word `waste'. Mike opened up his book and quickly scanned the worksheet; it was his Achilles Heel. Pythagoras' Theorum. Seriously, was Woodhouse deliberately trying to kill his will to live?
Mike's eyes flicked to his watch. There was only a short window of time before Woodhouse got suspicious. Thankfully, he knew that the maths textbooks were in the Reference section, on the other side of the library. Mike walked over and started trying to find the book that would be most helpful. Eventually, he found it. When Mike pulled out the thick book, he'd almost let out a gasp of suprise- on the other side, a warm, hazel eye blinked back at him, from the English side of the reference shelf.
Just thinking about that girl's only visible eye made Mike's stomach go all swoopy and weird again. He found the dish cloths behind several boxes of fabric softener, and returned to the basement.
`Here,' Mike called, holding aloft the dish cloths, before tossing one to Lucas and the other to Dustin. Coke saturated the blue material as Mike wiped up the soda on the floor.
`Why were you acting weird earlier?' Will asked.
`Hm? I wasn't acting weird.'
`Yeah, you were,' the three boys replied in unison.
`Really weird,' supplied Dustin, a little over-enthusiastically in Mike's opinion.
`Well, I did see this girl at the library-' Mike hedged, refusing to look at any of them. His friends jumped on his admission like prosecution lawyers. After five very painful minutes, Mike buckled.
`Okay, I pulled a maths book out of the reference and she must have taken a book out at the same time because we could see each other through the shelf. That's it. I promise.'
Will's eyebrows knitted together. `Hang on, describe her.'
`Uh… she had curly hair, black eyeshadow, dark clothes.' Mike didn't feel that any of his friends would appreciate it if he went on about how pretty her eyes were. `But I couldn't see much of her. Like I said, there was a book case in the way. Why, do you know her?'
`I don't know her,' Will replied. `But I know who you're talking about. That's El Hopper, we're in English together. Gruber hates her. Remember that time her and Max Mayfield went on protest against him dress-coding her because he could see her shoulders?'
Mike nodded. He knew two girls in his year had done that, but hadn't known their names. Her name rang between his ears. El Hopper. El Hopper. El Hopper…
`Wait, Hopper?' He asked suddenly, two jigsaw pieces slotting together with a little click. `She isn't related to Jim Hopper, is she?'
`Yeah. She's his daughter.'
Lucas grinned. `Imagine Mike having to tell the chief of police that he's trying to get into his daughter's-' There was a muffled thump as Mike's thrown pillow hit Lucas' face.
`I'm not trying to get into anything!' Mike protested loudly. `And I only saw her once. Anway, she'll probably say no if I ask her out.' He stood up, picked up the Dungeons and Dragons box, strode over to the desk, and shoved it underneath.
`Well, there is the end-of-year dance in five weeks,' Dustin pointed out.
`No. Like I said, I'll just get rejected. And even if El did say yes, I'd have no idea if she's nice or not because I'd be asking her out solely based on her looks. That's basically a sure-fire way of failing.' But even as he spoke, a small voice piped up in the back of Mike's head… what if he did ask her out?
`El doesn't speak that much, but she seems nice,' Will said, reasonably enough. The small voice in Mike's head got stronger, plying him with visions of El declaring her love for him off a balcony, like they were Romeo and Juliet. `Anyway, what's the worst that could happen if Mike asked her?'
Dustin let out a snort. `The chief would literally kill any boy wanting to date his daughter.'
And with that, the little voice in Mike's head was killed stone dead.
Uncomfortable silence tingled in the air as the boys walked up the stairs of the basement and into the kitchen. Orange light spilled from the oven, where a pizza was cooking. The cheese bubbled, sank, melted, and burnt.
Dustin smiled. `I love your mom's pizza,' he told Mike.
Suddenly a wail echoed through the air. It was a police siren- no, not only one- Will ran to the window and peered out, as three police cars and an ambulance screamed by. Their lights were flashing, illuminating the dark night. The ambulance followed closely, going at least twenty miles per hour over the speed limit.
`Looks like they're headed west,' Will said nervously.
`'Course they are,' Lucas said, raising his hands as if to say `obviously'. `Troy's west, those Texas kids are out west.'
Slowly, the sirens faded away, and an eerie peace settled, once again, over Chicago.
There was a loud ping. Mike jumped a mile into the air, as did the others, and then let out a huff of relief. Nothing bad.
The pizza was ready.
The next day, an emergency assembly was called at the school. Mike kept his eyes peeled for El Hopper as the sea of students was narrowed down into the (really too small) assembly hall, but couldn't see her anywhere.
Hey, she was okay, wasn't she?
Fear sparked up in Mike's chest, not helped by the stifling claustrophobia. Will started to nibble his lip. `This can't be about anything really bad, can it? I mean, we're fifteen. Troy or the Texans couldn't have done anything too awful. I'm pretty sure that the Jess Landey thing was just a rumour, they couldn't have got their hands on guns.'
Lucas scanned the crowd. `I dunno. This is Troy we're talking about. Remember he threatened to kill Cathay O'Hara with his penknife because she wouldn't go out with him?'
They all sat down in the hard, plastic chairs with gum stuck to the underside. Rows and rows of students were sat in the hall. Complete silence took the place of chatter when the headmaster walked in. His face was drawn, and pale.
Principal Sanders' cane clicked against the polished floor as he made his way up to the podium, then flicked on the microphone. For a few beats, all Mike could hear was the principal's rattling breathing coming out of the speakers. That was when Mike began to get really scared. Sanders was a pillar in the school- students loved him, teachers answered to him, he always seemed strong and reliable. Sanders had backed up Mike, Dustin, Lucas and Will when they'd asked for the AV Club to be recognised as a proper extracurricular activity.
Now he looked like a breath of wind would topple him.
`Students, I have something unpleasant to share with you,' he began. `Joshua Kinney died in the early hours of this morning.' A gasp ran through the assembly. `He was discovered at approximately eight o'clock last night, and was in a coma for seven hours before his death. I don't need to tell you all what an impact this will have on his family. And I wish I could say we will all be sad at his passing. But we all know that isn't true.' Sanders' eyes flashed behind his round glasses. `Joshua was one of the students moved here two months ago, after his hometown Saragosa was hit by a tornado. Since then, I have seen disgusting xenophobia displayed by boys from this school who have taken to calling themselves the Chicago Dogs. This form of gang violence has not only taken Joshua's life, but has left Jessica Landey in hospital. And I do not doubt there are many incidents that I know nothing of that happened outside of school.'
As the principal continued to speak, it was like a cloud of smoke was hanging around Mike's head- Josh Kinney was dead.
They'd been sat next to each other in biology for the whole of last term. Josh had seemed pleasant enough. Mike had helped him in a test, and Josh had repaid the favour with an ice-cream sandwich.
Mike noticed his leg was jiggling up and down reflexively, and turned his attention back to Sanders.
`I ask each and every one of you, as my students, to consider your actions and your morals. If this gang violence continues, it will only result in more deaths, more kids in hospital, and before long, even students who aren't involved in any gangs will be affected.' His piercing eyes swept the assembly. For a moment, Mike felt like the principal was watching only him. `That's all I have to say. Everyone file out in an orderly fashion, and return to your classes.'
