5

One month left of school.

Sunday rolled blearily around, bringing with it a sweep of stiflingly hot weather. Dogs panted in the shade, air conditioners were set at full blast, and every window was thrown wide open, looking for all the world like little eyes embedded in the Chicago skyscrapers.

`You aren't seriously going to wear your punk stuff, are you?' Max groaned, flopped back on El's bed, sweltering.

`I'd melt if I did…' another item of clothing came flying towards Max. She rolled away to dodge it and then sat up. El chucked her black sweater out and Max caught it.

`It's only breakfast at a diner. Why do you care so much about what you wear?' The only clothing that El could have possibly worn without melting was a pink T-Shirt left over from Christmas, when an elderly relative refused point-blank to believe El didn't like pink.

`Because if I wear that,' El said grimly, pointing at the abomination, `I'll never live it down.'

`I've got an idea.' Max got up and headed into Hopper's room, El in tow. She opened Hopper's wardrobe and found a flannel shirt, then tossed it to El. `Put that on and wear your black vest. Then stick on your jeans.'

For a moment, El considered the bundle scrunched up in her hands, then shrugged. What harm could it do? After shooing Max out of the room El got dressed, then stood in front of Hopper's shaving mirror. Yeah. It looked punk enough for her to like it, and the shirt stopped the risk of third degree sunburn.

`Okay, let's go.'

0

Max spotted their bikes first. She hopped off of her skateboard, tucked it under her arm, and ran into the diner.

`Wow.'

El opened the glass door and almost collided with Max as she took in the scene around her.

`Wow,' she agreed, looking about with wide eyes. `This literally is the sixties.' Then she noticed Lucas Sinclair waving at her and Max, Dustin Henderson and Will Byers next to him. El knew him from her English class. Still a little jet-lagged, she and Max walked towards them and sat down at the table. Max sat next to Lucas, despite there being a free chair next to El.

`Where's Wheeler?' Max asked, eyes flicking between the three boys already there.

`Don't know. Must've overslept,' Lucas answered.

There was an awkward silence, filled with the sounds of the Beatles. Eventually, Dustin turned to Will.

`Have you been practising Dig Dug?' He asked.

`You play Dig Dug?' Max blurted out.

`Yeah. I know it's not "cool", but-'

`What are you talking about? Dig Dug's amazing.'

Dustin couldn't have looked more surprised at Max Mayfield liking nerdy video games than if she'd told him she ground up puppies for fun.

That stunned quiet only lasted a short time- the two of them launched into a frenzied conversation about `controls' and `combos' and several other things El couldn't figure out for the life of her.

Unfortunately, that left Will, Lucas and El in an awkward quiet.

`So…' Lucas started, tapping his fingers next to the menu. `What did you guys think of Full Metal Jacket? It came out in cinemas a couple of days ago.'

El latched onto the topic gratefully. `I really liked it. You?' Will shrugged.

`I thought it was okay. But I didn't like the gore that much.'

`Not into that then?'

`Nope.' Will seemed to consider something for a moment. `Once, Mike thought it would be a good idea to watch The Thing and I threw up.'

There was a loud, snorting eruption from Lucas. `You puked, and then fainted into the puke,' he said, still snorting at the memory. `And then Mrs Wheeler had to hose you down in the garden.'

`That's a pleasant image,' El smiled, now completely at ease.

`What's a pleasant image?' A voice called.

Mike sat down at the table to a chorus of `Hi Mike's. He took off his sweater and left it over the back of his chair.

`Sorry I'm late. My alarm didn't go off.'

Denise showed up to take their orders. Her make up was running and the elaborate beehive hairstyle was on the verge of collapse. They all ordered waffles apart from Max, who stubbornly insisted on pancakes.

0

At the birth of the universe, there was the Big Bang.
For some reason, that was what El thought of when she looked around the table. Dustin and Max had discovered their shared love (and unknowing rivalry) of Dig Dug and bang, talking like they weren't ever going to stop. Her, Lucas and Will started talking about films and bang, they were discussing the special effects used to create the Chest Chomp in The Thing.

Four boys who she and Max had never spoken to in their lives were arguing with them over the merits and drawbacks of Han and Luke.

`Han's a total badass,' Dustin argued passionately. `Luke's a farm boy.'

`He can control the force! Are you insane?' El half squeaked from indignation.

`Bet it's only 'cause you think he's handsome,' Mike batted his eyes at her. El swatted him with a napkin.

An annoying, knowing glint sparked up in Max's eyes, and it was a look El didn't particularly like.

Shit, she was about to do something.

`So, Mike,' Max began, innocently enough.

Shit shit shit.

`Got a girlfriend?'

NO!

`Er-' Mike looked completely blindsided. `No. Why do you ask?'

`No reason,' she replied as her eyes slid round to El, who stomped on her foot.

They carried on their conversations.

So El didn't notice Mike's eyes flicking up at her every few seconds, like he was trying to memorise her before she went home.

0

`I hate you.'

`No you don't,' was the easy reply. `Because of me, Mike practically couldn't stop looking at you.'
In El's humble opinion, Max was looking way too pleased with herself seeing how she'd embarrassed El in the diner. Karla DeVito blared from the record player, guaranteeing noise complaints. In the grotty apartment block the walls were as thin as paper.

`What do you mean, he couldn't stop looking at me?' A small part of El stood on it's hind legs, nose twitching. She told it, firmly, to shut up.

`I mean, you're obviously in love with Wheeler and he's obviously in love with you.' The record started skipping, so Max fiddled about with it as she spoke. `Seriously, you need to do something about this or we'll all die of suspense.'

`You're more likely to die because your best friend got sick of you embarrasing her in public,' El snapped back. `And change the record, We Are Not Alone always gets stuck there.'

Cut down- cut down- cut down- cut down- The jarring racket stopped when El took out the vinyl disk and replaced it with one of Hopper's old records; You Don't Mess Around With Jim.

The first time he'd played that record for El was when she was about eight. Stacey Smith had invited every girl in the class to her birthday party except for El, and she'd returned home a blubbering mess. Hopper had eventually teased out of her what the problem was.

`You know what this needs?' He asked, clapping his hands to his knees. `Shitty old time rock music.' And he'd put the record in, set the needle whirring over it, and danced with El for hours until the two of them were completely out of breath.

Then he'd read her Anne of Green Gables until she fell asleep.

El smiled at the memory as she danced with Max, jumping around like a total idiot.

`You don't mess around with Jim,' they sang at each other, as a key turned in the front door lock.

Hopper came in, carrying bags of food, home from the supermarket.

`I'm back!' He hollered over the music. Relief spread through El and she quickly ran forwards to take one of the bags. Max took the needle off the record, and got the other bag. `How was the diner?' Hopper asked, easing out of his boots and tossing them next to El's small, worn canvas sneakers.

`Brilliant. The pancakes were amazing,' Max answered, putting food into the fridge. `Henderson practically had a meltdown when I ordered them instead of the waffles. It was hilarious.'

`So you two had fun. Good.' Hopper was so used to having Max around it was like he'd adopted another child somewhere along the line without noticing. `Anything else I should know?'

Immediately El shot daggers from her eyes at Max, giving her a vicious warning with no words. Max seemed to understand that telling Hopper about Mike was beyond the pale, and gave her a little nod.

`No. Nothing else,' she replied blithely, before moving the ketchup bottles aside to put in a carton of orange juice. `Any more gang stuff?'

`Not yet.' Hopper carefully put his gun into the drawer and locked it. `Can't be long before something else happens.' His eyes focused on Max, scanning her for bruises. There were five on her pale wrist in the shape of someone's fingers. Max caught Hopper's gaze and went stiff. Covertly, she shook her sleeve over her wrist. `Anyway, do you girls want lunch or are you still full from your breakfast?'

`No. We ate really early. The diner stops selling breakfast at eight.' El hopped up onto one of the stools, watching her dad make them omelette. Cracking the eggs, grinding the pepper, dropping in little knobs of butter. Then Hopper picked up a fork and whisked the whole thing into a yellow-white mixture, and tipped half of it into the frying pan. The egg mix turned pale as it cooked.

`Aren't you having anything?' El asked, eyes roving over Hopper's tired, unshaven face.

`Nah. I'm not really hungry.' The eggs snapped and hissed. He expertly flipped it over with a spatula, then slid the omelette onto a plate. Hopper passed the plate over to Max as he started on El's lunch.

`Well, he isn't exactly wasting away,' Max chipped in cheekily.

`Watch it.' Hopper pointed the spatula at her in mock-aggression. `I managed to take down five drunk assholes with guns last week, I'll take you on next.' He handed over El's plate, and then put on the record again. Once more, Jim Croce's song blared out into the apartment.

As Hopper went to his room, he did stupid little twist dance moves. El covered her eyes.

`Dad, stop it!'

`What?' He teased, now clicking his fingers in time to the music. `Am I embarrassing you?'

`We're eating!'

Hopper raised up his hands in surrender. `Fine. I'll stop.' Still with a massive grin on his face, Hopper walked into his bedroom, leaving the two girls to eat their omelettes in peace.

`I love your dad,' Max told El, before spearing a chunk of omelette.

`Yeah,' El smiled, looking at the closed door. `I love him too.'

0

School felt different.

Mike couldn't put his finger on it, but it was as if something was pulsing under the surface. A tight skin was stretched across whatever It was, and that skin was getting thinner, more worn, every single day.

Troy was strutting about like he owned the place.

Dallas sauntered through the corridors, showing off his penknife skills to girls behind the bike shed.

Small-scale fistfights broke out regularly between the Chicago Dogs and the Texans. Black eyes and bloodied knuckles were common sights.

Principal Sanders was looking more panicked than ever.

Sometimes, it wasn't even safe enough to be in the recess yard at break. Mike, Dustin, Lucas and Will had had to resort to sheltering inside an empty store cupboard to stay unhassled.

More often than not, they were joined by Max and El.

`Okay, if we show you this place, you have to keep it a secret,' Lucas reiterated as he walked next to a lethargically nodding Max. `Absolutely secret.'

`I think she probably heard you the first time,' Will said. `And anyway, it's not like El and Max are going to tell everyone. Are you?'

El shook her head adamantly. `No. We'll keep the cupboard secret. Promise.'

Their footsteps squeaked on the linoleum floors, polished with cheap bleach. Every few seconds, Mike would check over his shoulder to make sure they weren't being followed.

`Okay, we're here,' Lucas announced in clear relief. He quickly took a key out of his pocket, slotted it into the lock, and opened the door. `Ta-da.'

The cupboard had been converted. Posters were stuck up on the walls, christmas lights draped along the doorframe, there was even a small stash of candy in the corner.

El took it all in, eyes wide with wonder and astonishment.

`How did you do this?' She breathed, touching the posters, running her finger along the walls.

Mike smiled, pride glowing on his face. His nose wrinkled slightly as he smiled, and El felt a weird tug around the region of her chest.

`I found the key on the floor outside and opened the cupboard. There weren't any supplies inside so we figured no one was using it. Will got the fairy lights, and we all donated the posters and candy. I mean, it's quite small, but-'

`It's amazing,' El stopped him. She smiled, and repeated it. `It's amazing.'

There was a horrified gasp. Everyone in the cupboard whipped round to Will, who was looking out into the corridor.

`Troy! Coming this way!' He hissed.

`What?'

`I don't think he's seen us- keep your voice down-' Will quickly shut the door and grabbed the key off Lucas. He locked them in, then flicked on the christmas lights so they could see.

Mike looked down at his hands; they were bathed in red-green-blue-yellow light. He looked like some sort of mythical creature. Some sort of alien.

He pressed his ear to the door.

Heavy boots tramped along the corridor, then stopped right in front of the cupboard.

The door rattled as someone slammed against it. They all jerked backwards; Max had a pair of scissors in her pocket. She took them apart and held one half like a knife.
She caught the others staring at her. `Just in case,' she mouthed.

Metallic snicks came from the corridor. It sounded as if Troy was flicking his penknife up and down.

`Where's the sonofabitch,' he muttered. Mike's heart rate pulsed unpleasantly in his stomach.

`You rang?' A lazy drawl trailed down the corridor. Dallas. `So. Whaddaya want, Harmer?'

`James Turner. Your Texans knifed him.'

`So that's who it was? I just saw a filthy Chicago Dog and whipped out my knife. Wanna see?' There was a small click. `Flick knife. Pop bought it for my thirteenth birthday. I've had practise.'

He stabbed it into the door with a loud bang. They all jolted back again.

Max pushed the second half of the scissors into Lucas' hand and curled his fingers over it, eyes still trained on the door.

`So you can stab a slab of wood,' Troy yawned. `Big deal. I've cut up more bitches than I can count.'

`Like who?'

`Cathay O'Hara. Joshua Kinney.'

`You didn't cut up O'Hara. That Hopper girl took care of that.'

`That Hopper girl is the next bitch I'm cutting up.'

El felt like her stomach had dropped through her legs. Sick rose at the back of her throat. He couldn't actually hurt her- could he? But then names started swirling around her head. Joshua, Cathay, God knew who else.

Troy was more than capable of killing them. He was more than capable of killing her.

Oh, Jesus.

Suddenly a warm hand was closing over hers. Mike looked at her, brown eyes fierce.

`I won't let him,' he whispered, so only she could hear him.

El couldn't react. Her entire brain seemed paralysed by the rapidly unfolding events. So, instead of doing what she wanted- squeezing Mike's hand back- she turned away to the door. There was an awkward moment, then Mike dropped her hand, and looked in the other direction.

Troy and Dallas were still talking.

`Wanna end this?' Dallas asked brusquely. `I'll give you three weeks. Then we fight. Both our gangs, knives, heaters, chains, everything. We end this.'

`Deal.'

There was the sound of the two teenagers yanking their knives out of the wood and then they walked away, heavy boots marching in opposite directions.

Silence in the cupboard. They all stayed completely quiet until Troy and Dallas were out of earshot.

`I think we're safe,' Dustin breathed, leaning against the wall. `That was so scary.'

`What are heaters?' Max asked nervously, taking back her scissors from Lucas.

`No idea.'

Mike decided to speak to El again, even though he'd clearly embarrassed himself earlier. `You okay?'

El looked at him, completely white. `Yeah. I'll be fine. I can fight him.' Her mouth set into a hard line.

Max glanced at Lucas, tapped his shoulder, and pointed. `See what I mean about tough?' She whispered.

`Yeah,' Lucas whispered back. `El's crazy.'

And then the bell rang.

Recess was over.