Three

Will writes to them first.

The envelope is addressed to Mike, but the letter is for all of them. It's nothing unique: he's learning to like California, he hates that he's not going to high school with them like planned, the weather is nice but it's nice when it should be chilly and what he's used to, he misses them, his mom has lost two grown up friends in a row and is trying to put on a happy face, his brother is in a brand new school system the very year he needs to be concentrating on applying for college and graduating, and now he lives with a girl – but he's doing okay, what's new with them?

And it's like this: Dustin spent more time worried about Will, thinking about Will, putting effort into communicating with Will, when the guy was trapped in the Upside Down, than in the past couple months when he's only been a few states away.

"We should write him back this weekend," Mike says, and they nod.

They don't meet up that weekend. They have homework, practice, chores, they forget. It's so easy to forget the longer he's gone, the longer they wait.

Maybe he should just pick up the phone and call some weekend. If it's just for five minutes it shouldn't be too expensive for Mrs. Byers.

Dustin doesn't want to be an asshole, but the promises he makes inside his head to get around to it are all squeezed in with what he will respectfully call Suzie Musings, and this stupid Latin homework is taking forever, and Lucas is now spending the equivalent of every other day at lunch not with him, and also, is that a hair finally growing on his upper lip or a zit?

It's just enough to keep him from making more of an effort.

The idea almost doesn't come to him.

It's late on a school night, and Dustin takes the trash outside to the curb. It's unusually cold, a heavy and wet coldness, and there's a smokey smell. Not the smell of something burning, but like candles that had just been snuffed out. It's the smell of winter holidays, of snow to come. Like a cold weather version of petrichor.

Dustin looks around, as if he could find the source of the aroma. Which doesn't make a lot of sense, he knows; it's the kind of environmental smell that's everywhere at once.

But – something still seems off, as he looks up and down his very ordinary suburban street. Something is missing.

A strong wind makes the dry leaves of the trees shake like old baby rattles. Some houses don't have their lights on. What is he missing? Is there anything to miss, or have his instincts gone sour now that he's grown up?

Then, Dustin sees: at the very end of the street, on his neighbor's front stoop, is one, small, glowing jack-o-lantern. It flickers with the light of a real flame inside.

No one else has decorations of any kind.

He wants to tell Lucas first; best friends get first dibs. But he's harder to pin down than Mike lately.

Dustin almost uses the walkie-talkie – but, no, that would be kind of cruel. That's only for Serious Business. Or camping. He doesn't know when they'd ever go camping, but they might.

Lucas isn't home, as Erica oh so helpfully informs him over the phone, so he takes his bike to the park that holds the one run-down basketball court. He often thinks it shouldn't be called a park because it's so small; it's the court, and some bare grass that you could play soccer on or picnic on, and one bench by the parking lot. Dustin thought it should be called something else, like a parklet, and he was utterly dismayed to discover that was already a word that didn't apply here.

Lucas is there, but so is another boy. They're both playing basketball, with each other. Against each other? He isn't up on sports terminology.

The idea of interrupting them feels like a terrible imposition, they're clearly in the middle of something important that doesn't concern him, and Dustin just – keeps on pedaling past the park. And now he has to come around again, because he's sure he saw Lucas see him, so he can't not say hello now.

Five minutes later Dustin comes to the same parking lot entrance, and this time he goes in, slowing down by the second. By the time he reaches the edge of the court he's basically walking astride his bike, which is a very wobbly way to travel.

Lucas and the other boy come up to him, with the basketball tucked under Lucas's arm. "Hey, I thought that was you," he says. "Did you just loop around the park?"

"No?" says Dustin, because why would anyone do that. "I was – I got lost in my thoughts. I was having a very peaceful bike ride. It's a very nice day."

This was stupid.

Dustin gets off his bike entirely, lets it fall to the ground with an abnormally loud BANG, which he ignores. He walks up to the other kid and sticks out his hand. "Hi! Dustin Henderson."

The other kid does the slapping thing that's only sort of a handshake. "Yeah, I know. Uh, I'm Carl."

"Carl! Nice to meet you." Dustin puts both hands in his pockets and rocks a little on his feet.

"So…" Lucas trails off. "You don't have your backpack with you."

Dustin shakes his head, doesn't know what that is supposed to mean.

"You just, you usually have that when I'm here to practice and you sit on the sidelines pretending to study."

Dustin almost slaps his forehead. "Yes! Yes, that is what I do, normally. When I'm here and you're here."

"Are you here to practice with us?" says Carl, and he sounds confused. "You wanna join the basketball team too?"

"No!" says Dustin. "I mean, ha – the team is great! Go Tigers! But not for me, it's. It's just not for me. You two looked really good though, you're gonna get on for sure."

Dustin knows he has a tendency to fill a silence with conversation, but this time he tries to keep his mouth shut. They all stand around in silence.

"So…" Lucas says again. "Did you need something? Is everything okay?"

Dustin nods, clears his throat, rubs the tips of his fingers together inside his pockets.

"Yes! I wanted to invite you – both of you! – to my Halloween party."

Can't forget Carl, that would be rude.

"You're not going up against Kristy Swann's party, are you?" says Carl. "Because nobody will come to yours."

Lucas smacks Carl in the arm.

"Sorry, it's true!"

"Your concern is touching, but unnecessary," Dustin tells him. "I'm holding my party on Friday, November 1st. Pretty sure no one else is having their Halloween party then."

"That's for sure."

Lucas winces. Then hands the ball over to Carl, by way of slamming it into his torso, just hard enough to make the other boy go, "Oof!"

"Come on, man," says Lucas. "Go do some layups. I'll be there in a second."

Then it's just the two of them, like it used to be.

"So, you'll come?" Dustin asks. "I've got something cool planned."

"Of course I'll be there," says Lucas. "It'll be just like our movie nights."

"But with more people and thematic decor!"

They share a smile. Then Lucas is off to sharpen his athletic skills, and Dustin rides home to procrastinate on Latin homework.

Mike is marvelously easy in comparison to invite, and bring on board.

"You want a Halloween party after Halloween is over?" he asks, and shuts his locker to look eye-to-eye at Dustin.

"Why not?" Dustin parries. "It's a Friday, it's a party, you're invited, we'll have fun. And I have something planned as a surprise, 8:30pm."

"Why so late?"

"Many reasons. One of which is, anyone who might find themselves with detention that afternoon will still have plenty of time to arrive and partake in the festivities."

Mike rolls his eyes, but he grins. They head towards English, which they have together. "You heard about that, yeah?"

"Did you really bark like a dog at Mrs. Chessholm?"

"What, no! I just told her that she had no right to invoke Hopper's name like that, and I may have been a little loud." Mike pushed a hand through his ever-growing shag of hair, because he wasn't subtle at all. "He wouldn't have given a shit about writing essays or whatever. I think she was just upset that someone knew him well enough to say so."

Dustin thinks, it's too easy to use someone's name if they're dead.

"I kind of can't wait to tell Eddie and the guys, if they join detention it'll be starting D&D early that day!"

Not subtle at all.

Brrrrring!

"Hello?"

"Mrs. Byers, hi! It's Dustin Henderson!"

"Dustin, how are you? Oh I'm sorry, it's still only lunchtime here. The kids aren't back from school yet."

"Actually, you're just the person I wanted to speak with."

"Me? What for?"

"I have a huge favor to ask, but I think it's something Will and El will really like. And Jonathan too if he wants to join, everyone's invited. And I want you to know, I always cash out my IOUs. I will absolutely make this up to you. I can't do handyman stuff – I mean, I couldn't do that even when you guys still lived here – but as personal computers become more common I will volunteer to be your personal, on-demand IT support – although I usually end up calling Suzie for help – Suzie's my girlfriend, did Will happen to mention her?"

"Dustin, I heard you singing with everyone else."

"…ah."

"Why don't you just tell me what this favor is, and we'll take it from there."

"Well, I have an idea to get everyone together the night right after Halloween this year. Do you guys live close to a post office?"

"A Halloween party?" repeats Eddie, in a tone drier than the Atacama Desert.

Eddie Munson was either completely hyper, or completely deadpan, and with further study Dustin was absolutely going to crack the code of which version meant he was being serious, or sarcastic, and when. And why. And maybe how?

"Yes!" Dustin says. "See, first of all, by virtue of taking place on Friday, aka November 1, we avoid any other Halloween parties likely to take place the weekend before or the actual night of. No conflict of interest."

Eddie tilts his head to look past Dustin, at Mike. "Is he for real?"

"Always," says Mike.

Dustin nudges him subtly with an elbow, and also a gentle kick to Mike's ankle, and a clear message through what Suzie calls his 'expressive' eyes to 'Back me up here, man!"

"But it's not a bad idea. I mean, we play D&D once a month anyway, which is like Halloween all the time, so it could be fun to do something different on the actual holiday."

Dustin lightly bangs the table with a fist. "See? The idea has been put forth and seconded, let's make this happen!"

Gareth hits the table in response, teasing. He starts drumming a beat with no rhythm or rhyme.

"Hellfire Club isn't a democracy, Henderson," Eddie states.

"You only say that because you already know you have my vote."

"I – what? No." Eddie shakes his head. Every time he does that Dustin is reminded of a dog shaking off water, because of all the hair. "We're not gonna put on stupid costumes and dance around to Phil Collins, I hate that I even know who he is."

"Eddie. My liege, my raconteur, my personal favorite DM right after Mike: what kind of shindig do you think I throw?"

Dustin pretends he doesn't notice Mike beaming, and then trying to play it off cool.

Jeff mocks him, "The kind with Pizza King square slices and a cake your mommy baked?"

"Are you saying you don't want to have free pizza and homemade cake?"

There's a beat, and Jeff looks down at his lunch tray. "No..."

"What do you mean 'after' Mike?" Eddie asks. He gestures to Mike with a goldfish cracker. "So you were the kiddie Dungeon Mister before joining my club? And I suppose you'd like to take over and kick me out of a job."

He eats the single goldfish with a theatrically large chomp.

"What, no! I – I would never, uh, usurp you, the natural – the rightful – I'm not looking to take over anything, I just want to play."

"Real smooth," Dustin whispers.

"Shut up!" Mike whispers back.

If Lucas were sitting with them he'd have more support, but – Lucas was off doing his own thing today. He does that sometimes now, which is fine. Lunch isn't class, nobody's taking attendance.

It's just odd to have Mike as his only backup. They've joined a larger club, but time with his friends is dwindling.

The Dungeon Master stares them down with his large, near-black eyes. The Eye of The Freak is upon them. Gareth is slapping out a beat on the tabletop and humming something that sounds like the Jaws theme. The underclassmen wait for judgement, hope for mercy.

Eddie bursts out laughing. "Relax, man! Of course you want to take over, being the DM is an honor and privilege. I'm not gonna be here forever, I gotta pass the crown on to someone."

"Yeah?" Mike sits up a little straighter.

"I'm sitting right here," says Little John.

"You hate coming up with campaigns, I've never heard a man bitch as much as you did after begging me to take over the Christmas campaign two years ago."

"I did not beg, and it's about seniority!"

"Yeah what about us?" Jeff asks. "You're just gonna pass over a Level 9 Rogue and a Level 12 Warlock for a couple little hobbitses?"

"Oh really, I'm a hobbit just because I'm younger and shorter than you?" Dustin says. "Don't mix Lord of the Rings insults when we're talking D&D, unless you'd like me to point out that the only reason we have real candles lit when we play, is because you emit enough toxic ass fumes to choke out an Orc."

Jeff starts throwing every plastic utensil on the table at Dustin. "Ow! I won't yield! You know I'm right! Eat something other than beans and Brussel sprouts, man! Go see a doctor and get some help! An apple a day keeps the fart train away!"

Eddie laughs some more, and slowly claps his hands.

"Take it in, Michael Wheeler," he says. "Take it all in. This is the shit you'll have to deal with when I'm gone. Hope you're up for the challenge."

"I will," Mike promises. "One day."

Dustin blocks an emptied carton of milk aimed at his face. At last, Jeff runs out of ammunition.

"Ugh, finally." Dustin smooths down his shirt, and asks again at large: "So, will you guys come?"

Eddie leans back in his chair, sighing fondly. He smiles a little. "No."

Little John says, "I mean, we could-"

"No," Eddie repeats.

Dustin nods. "Right, okay, cool. Cool. Just let me know if you change your mind, open-door policy, you're all welcome to my place. No need to RSVP right away. But, know that our inside man is going to source a really good movie for us, so anyone who doesn't show will be missing out."

"Yeah, 'cause cinema is a super important element of a great party," Eddie monotones. "You want to have something culturally enriching to discuss with the girl sitting next to you."

"Steve would actually be really good at picking out something for that," Dustin thinks out loud.

"Steve? Wait, Steve Harrington?" Gareth says. "The old King of Hawkins High? I knew I saw you guys hanging out at the ice cream place before the mall burned down."

"Yeah!" says Dustin. "He's our friend."

"He's mostly your friend," Mike says. "I think he just puts up with the rest of us. Although he does come through for us at Family Video."

Eddie scoffs. "Rentals from the Hollywood machine. You had me going for a minute. Yeah, I'm sure Steve Harrington can find you the real good underground stuff. I hope he's enjoying that post-high-school-superstar life, minimum wage and all."

"He really got a taste of his own medicine last year," Little John says. "He definitely didn't graduate as King Steve."

"That's because he's a more of a knight," Dustin declares. "Not a king."

"Jesus H. Christ," Eddie says, acrid on every syllable. "He's not even here and you're all over his dick. A knight, Henderson? Really?"

"Yeah," says Jeff. "He was popular for the longest time, until he started dating that girl? And she dumped him anyway."

"That girl is my sister," Mike tells him.

Jeff leans back from Mike's glare. "Uh, okay? I'm not saying anything bad about her."

"I dunno," Gareth pipes up. "He stopped hanging out with Tommy and Carol a while ago, I don't think he was that bad at the end."

"My goodness gracious," says Eddie. "You're telling me that after years of practice, young Mr. Harrington pressed pause on being a typical suburban bully? Well, let's go get him a trophy boys; the simple act of Not Being an Asshole for Two Seconds is a noble deed worth bestowing the highest of honors."

Gareth shrugs. "Hey, you ran into Billy Hargrove too last year. He was a lot worse than Steve ever was, than any of them were. I know you're not supposed to speak ill of the dead…"

"He was a full-blown psycho," Mike insists.

"The enemy of my enemy," says Little John.

"Would also be your enemy in this case, trust us," Dustin says.

"Why are we gossiping about high school drama?" Eddie interrupts them all. He kicks the underside of the table hard enough that room-temperature corn kernels and cut up fruit pieces go airborne and land on other parts of the table, even the fronts of some of the boys' shirts. "We're supposed to be above this stupid shit!"

Dustin picks off a kernel from the top of his cap visor.

Eddie's good mood is gone. He goes to take a bite from his sandwich, stops, and puts it back down on the table. His dark eyes glower towards the middle of the cafeteria table, seemingly at nothing at all. "Gareth. Are you tapping out the drum bit from that Phil Collins song?"

Gareth yanks his hands off the table.

It takes every ounce of strength to not get printed invitations and hand them out. He knows those are for little kids. His hands are empty every time he approaches someone. It still feels so wrong.

Especially now, when all the chalk in this room is making him sneeze. Dustin needs a tissue, or a napkin or something; his sleeve isn't going to cut it much longer.

"Yep!" he says, to Kevin of the high school Mathematics Club. Kevin almost joined the A/V club in middle school, but he was only allowed one extracurricular aside from church stuff. He went with math club. There's something interesting to be gleaned from that, but not now. Dustin is a man on a mission. "Friday, November 1st! The whole club can come, if they want."

Kevin 'hmmmms', mulling it over. The chalkboard behind him has all kinds of Hilbert's problems being worked through. Everyone stopped when Dustin walked in, and then turned back to the problems when he didn't join in.

"I'll have to ask my parents," he says. "But, thanks for inviting me."

"And the rest of the cluuu-AH-CHOO!" Dustin uses his other sleeve. "The rest of the club, if they want," Dustin adds.

Kevin shrugs. "Okay, cool. You know, you could join us. We make mobius strip snowflake garlands for the community center every Christmas, and afterwards we can watch whatever movie with like in the auditorium. Apparently whoever sneaks in the weirdest food gets bragging rights."

"Thanks, but I need to concentrate on the classes I've got."

"Hey, Kevin!" one of the other kids shouts. "We're still stuck! You gonna help us out or not?"

"I'm coming, all right!" says Kevin.

He rips his shirt off and throws it aside. Some of the other club members start cheering.

"Ummmmm, what?" Dustin asks. "What club is this again?"

"I don't like anything to get between me and the numbers," says Kevin.

He confidently strides to the blackboard and takes a piece of chalk from someone without breaking eye contact with the math.

Dustin takes that as his cue to leave.

Mrs. Henderson is just a bit flustered at the growing number of Halloween decorations piling up on the dining room table.

"Dustin," she says, "Are you sure you need this many things for your little get-together? I don't want you wasting your allowance."

"Mom, no! We need it, trust me!"

She picks up some packages of cheap centerpieces. "Sweetie, look; you got two of these by accident."

Dustin grabs one and shakes it for emphasis. "I know what I'm doing! I have a plan!"

She gives up.

"Aha!" Dustin exclaims, in the Action aisle of the Family Video store.

In his hands he holds the box for Wargames, but the actual tape inside is Dragonslayer. The game is afoot!

"I don't get it," Steve says. He gamely holds the boxes Dustin is racking up, and handing over. "You want us to come over and celebrate Halloween after it's over?"

This time he's the one following Dustin, who won't just tell him the movie he's searching for. Dustin has already walked down the aisles for Action and Sci-Fi/Fantasy once, and now he's making a second go-around. He's inspecting every single box, each one behind it, and the actual tape inside.

"It's just over by one day, and then it'll be Friday, aka prime party time."

"Saturday is prime party time. You've still got a lot to learn, Henderson."

Dustin finds the box for Dragonslayer. Inside – The Dark Crystal. He fights off a shiver. For a kiddie film, that movie was pretty scary. Then again, he saw it before Will went missing. If he watched it now he could probably take it.

"The Hallowmas season technically doesn't end until November 2nd. You and Robin can just close up shop early to come hang out," Dustin says. "C'mon, don't you want to actually have fun on a Friday night again? I'm inviting a lot of people. You guys can finally meet Eddie and everyone else in Hellfire!"

Is Dustin hoping that having Hellfire in attendance will help convince his remaining friends to join the campaign? Yes, absolutely, 100%, he's not subtle and he's not sorry.

"I know who Eddie Munson is," Steve says. "He's the guy with the party supplies who's been a senior forever."

"Party supplies?" Dustin says. He frowns, and thinks back. "Well, he didn't offer any help when I told him about this. I have to get everything from my own allowance savings. And all I can afford are Dollar General decorations. Very uncool of him. Very uncool."

Dustin knows he only disapproves so vehemently because he's too chickenshit to confront Eddie about it to his face.

"Yeah, I wouldn't go looking to Eddie the Freak for anything cool," Steve says. "Don't take anything else from him, either."

"What?"

"What? Hey, maybe you could actually tell me what you're looking for? You know, so I can look it up in the system and see if it's even physically here?"

They get to the boxed location for The Dark Crystal, and inside is the tape for Return to Oz. Huh, when did that come out? Dustin didn't know they made a sequel to The Wizard of Oz, that could be fun to watch. It was obviously more of a Thanksgiving or Christmas time kind of movie, so it would have to wait.

"This is taking longer than I thought it would," Dustin remarks. "Steve, do you ever actually check the inside of the boxes when you take them back from customers?"

"Yeah." Steve makes a kind of sideways moving nod. "Yes, I know how to do my job, Henderson."

"Okay."

"Okay! I'm not in high school anymore, this is a full-time job."

Dustin nods, agreeing, appeasing. "Mmm-hmm, yeah."

"Which I have to take seriously. For things like rent."

"I thought you still lived at home?"

"Yeah, and my dad charges me rent, so there you go. I live the real world, I can't just goof off like you kids."

The front door jingles, and Dustin glimpses someone with long, fluffy hair and fashionable-for-the-Midwest clothing walk into the store.

"Hold these," Steve says, and pushes all the boxes they've collected so far into Dustin's arms. "Gotta go to work."

"Really?" Dustin murmurs, surprised at his own dull surprise. He's going to drop all these boxes any second, Steve has longer arms, that was the whole point.

He hears Steve go, "Hey," and Dustin immediately tunes that out as best he can. He's reached the official home of Return to Oz among the stands of Family Video anyway, so he just puts the extra boxes wherever there's free space.

And inside one of the official boxes for Return to Oz – yes!

"Found it!" Dustin exclaims, to nobody but himself.

He takes the long way back to the front desk to avoid having to see or hear Steve's seduction techniques, and whatever girl was lucky enough to endure them.

"Okay, I need you to be cool," he tells Robin in a low voice. He takes the VHS box, labelled Return to Oz but containing a different tape inside, and casually slides it across the top of the counter while looking in a different direction.

She raises an eyebrow.

"I cannot afford to check this out from now until the day of the party. I know it's probably your only copy. So, I need you to hold it for me from now through the end of next week."

Dustin leans in as much as he can over the glass counter, to emphasize how important this is. "The secret space under the counter is now Fort Knox. The secret space under the counter is No Man's Land. And No Woman's Land. The land is equal opportunity about being off-limits. The day of - no, don't open it!"

Robin gives him a deeply concerned look, like he had just admitted how much he loved to break crayons into little pieces and eat them like chocolate chips. "Uhhhhh, okay." She snaps shut the one corner of the box she had just started to open.

"Keep it a surprise, you're a guest too! Why are you so completely the opposite of Steve on this one – never mind. Moving on. So, the day of? Just bring it with you when you close up shop and come over. You know where I live, right? Steve knows, you'll be fine."

The lady customer suddenly laughs, loud and sharp, and Steve joins in after a second. The actual mating calls of some little prairie animals would probably sound nicer, and Robin doesn't even glance their way. And it isn't the kind of not-glancing, where you can tell someone is trying so hard not to look even though they want to.

Dustin thinks: maybe they really are just friends, like me and El. Maybe he's still hung up on Nancy and trying to Don Juan his way out of his emotions. Maybe he just really likes Doing It and I don't know anything.

Robin goes, "So Steve and I are in charge of Fort Knox, but we can't actually take a peak at what we're guarding?" She tics her head. "That's actually kinda realistic for the US military. All right, assuming Friday night, aka the busiest night of the week for both the movies and video rental stores since the invention of moving pictures, is somehow dead, then I'll play ball. I'm game. I'll take my shot."

It is, finally, Dustin's time to give some side-eye.

"I'm punning over the last tape you guys left here in the 'secret space'," she says with air quotes. "Tell Lucas to pick it up already, it's been like a month and all the other copies are always rented out. Maybe other people want to see it too."

"Lucas has a secret tape? Wait, what movie?"

Robin closes one eye and points a finger at Dustin. "Those who make a deposit in Fort Knox, are not necessarily cleared to know what else is in Fort Knox."

Steve and his lady customer come up to the front desk, making Dustin move to the side.

"Heyyy, can you look up if we have the film Vision Quest?" Steve asks Robin.

"I could, yeah."

She makes no move to do so.

"You know," Steve says to the girl, "I don't think I ever got to see that in theaters, how was it?"

"Ohmygosh," the girl says. "It's so good! It's not, like, a typical romantic movie, it's actually really dramatic. Carla is so cool."

She notices Dustin standing there with them, and gives him a nice smile and a little wave that he returns.

"Yeah? I oughtta see it myself sometime," Steve says. "You'd think, 'I work in a video store!' But that just makes me pickier. Now when I sit down to watch something, it's gotta be something worthwhile, you know?"

"Steve, what is the movie currently in Ft. Knox?" Dustin asks him outright.

"In – what?"

"Say nothing!" Robin scolds both of them. "That information is classified to civilians!"

"Wait, that tape you keep next to the rubber bands under the counter?" Steve says, because of course he also knows the secret space where they both keep the best movies unofficially on hold, for their favorite meddling, maddening children. "Red Susan or whatever, with Schwarzenegger?"

Dustin doesn't actually hear the short screech that comes out of his own mouth, but he feels it happening. And he's too horrified to be embarrassed as all three older teens stare at him.

"Oh my god," he says. "I said I didn't want to know any more about his subconscious! I have to get out of here. I'm gonna storm out just like Mike. No, don't – nobody look at me."

For some reason, Dustin always expects that the high school room allocated for the school newspaper will smell like ink and paper, like a library. But it's the sounds that get to him: more machinery than the average classroom, shoes clicking over the hard linoleum floor instead of the library's carpet, and the conversations of engaged students actively working on a project due every week at a normal volume instead of hushed.

"Hey, Dustin," Nancy greets him. She's moving slips of paper over a lightbox, graceful but determined. He's gonna see her hosting 60 Minutes one day. And he got her study notes!

"My lady editor of the news," he says with a flourishing bow, making her laugh.

"So, what brings you here?" she asks.

"Good fortune and cheer," he replies. "I'm having a Halloween party! I wanted to formally invite you."

"Oh, Dustin I'm sorry, I'm already going to Kristy's party next Saturday. I can drop off Mike at your house on the way, though."

"No, I'm having it November the 1st!"

Nancy keeps smiling very brightly. "Oh! Well. That's – after the holiday is over, isn't it?"

"I don't know why everyone keeps coming back to that, I thought any excuse to party is a good excuse."

A boy in glasses comes up to the two of them. "What's this I hear about excuses? Hopefully not anything related to our deadline."

"Nope, we're right on schedule. Fred, this is Dustin Henderson, he's a friend of my brother's." She sideways-grins at Dustin. "And mine, too."

He sticks his hand out for a shake, and Fred has a very professional grip.

"Fred is the managing editor for the paper," Nancy tells Dustin.

"I like to think of us more as partners," Fred says. "But you're the boss!"

Dustin laughs, and Nancy laughs, and they're all laughing, and it's kind of forced and weird.

"So," he says. "Will you come? Anytime after school is fine, but the main event starts at 8:30."

"Um…"

"What event?" Fred asks.

"My Halloween party!" Dustin informs him. "Why don't you come too? It's on Friday November 1st. Yes, the day after Halloween. I need people to stop asking why, it's a Friday."

Fred seems to consider it. "Could be fun. Neither of us are covering anything that night, why don't we go?" He looks up at Nancy while saying that last part.

"You know, I've got a lot to do here, not to mention homework really ramps up senior year," Nancy says. Her eyes are darting around the room, like she's looking for something. "I'll talk to you later, Dustin!"

Nancy hurries away, leaving the two boys behind.

The seconds tick by.

"You know she's got a boyfriend," Dustin says.

Fred straightens his back. "Long distance relationships can be tough," he says. "Sometimes the better choice is right in front of you the whole time."

Dustin decides to let him have the last word. It's just not worth the effort.

This other room actually does kind of sound like the library, with lots of scribbling on paper and very little chatter. It makes the clicks of the mechanical time clocks sound louder and harsher than they actually are.

"How about this," Dustin declares. "If I win a game against you, then you come to my Halloween party."

Ben extends a hand over the chessboard. "You're on!"

It's a very short game.

"Best two out of three?" Dustin tries.

"You might have a chance if you actually joined the club," Ben says. He and Dustin always tied for being picked last when P.E. had team games, even back in middle school, and they sat next to each other in History too. "You've got a brain; forget the soulless siren song of modern industry; the game of chess is an ancient game for the learned man."

"Would you come if I actually joined?"

"Only if you add in a clause that you have to stay in the club, and don't just quit after your party is over."

Dustin narrows his eyes. "Chess club is a gateway for people who want to be lawyers one day, isn't it?"

"A Hawkins-only specialty," Ben says, wistfully. "If this were a private New York school, it'd be something like a yacht club. One day, Dustin. One day."

Dustin saves the hardest invite for last. Like how the last level in a video game against the final boss is always the most difficult. Yeah, that's why.

Tap, tap.

"Max."

Tap, tap.

"Max."

Tap, tap, tap.

"Maaaaaaaaaax…"

"WHAT!"

"Miss Mayfield!" their teacher scolds, loud enough for her to hear over her headphones. "Indoor voice!"

Max yanks down her headphones and glares at Dustin. 'What?' she mouths.

It was free time during Biology – everyone was working on classwork and they weren't the only ones talking, but he was pretty sure she was the only student in school that got a pass for listening to music during class. For the obvious, violent-death-in-the-family reasons.

Dustin smiles. "I'm having a Halloween party on November first, you should come!"

"Halloween… in November?"

"It's just one day into next month, the day right after Halloween, 'cause it falls on a Thursday this year. I'm moving the good times one night over."

She idly turns a page over in their textbook. "I thought you were gonna say something like, oh, but it'll still be Halloween in the Samoan islands because of the time difference!"

"I checked. We're only eight hours in front of the international date line, it doesn't work."

Max kind of huffs. "I don't know. I might be busy."

"Doing what? What could you possibly be doing on a Friday night if not hanging out with all your friends?"

Her eyes are beautiful and dangerous, like a wolf's, and they stare him down. "Gee I don't know. Trying again to convince Mrs. Beckett, on the only night she's in the grocery store, to hire me as a bagger even though I'm not 16 yet, so I can help my mom with the debt payments my shitty stepdad left for us?"

Dustin attempts to shrink in his chair. "Yeah. Yeah, that's a good one," he whispers.

She unwinds her headphones where the cords started to tangle, and Dustin thinks fast.

"C'mon, I know you and Lucas are dating, but your friends want to hang out with you too," he pleads. "We won't watch any scary movies. I'm planning a night of all treats, no tricks."

Max stares ahead at the blackboard. "You and Mike seem pretty happy with your dragons in dungeons club. And Lucas is getting kind of intense about making the basketball team."

Dustin doesn't rise to the obvious bait. He says, "Hellfire is great, but they're not you guys. I'd quit the club in a heartbeat if it meant Will and El could come back."

That gets her attention. "Really? No you wouldn't."

He doesn't say, we've lost Will and El. They each came back once before, but that just means even finding people again isn't permanent. We lost the Chief, and even Mrs. Byers and Jonathan, and I guess Mr. Newby too, and I never see Mr. Clarke anymore, and I don't want to lose anybody else.

He says, "Yes, I would."

"No way. I've seen your Eddie Van Halen ringleader, he'd string you up from the flagpole if you deserted."

"But you'd cut me down, right?"

Max gives him a small grin before putting her headphones back on. She never gives him a clear answer one way or the other.

For the last few years, the lead-up to Halloween has always been important. The Party Proper would coordinate costumes, drop-off times, candy quality-to-size-to-geographical-area ratios. This year – radio silence. It's a good thing he planned something for tomorrow night, otherwise they would have passed through the autumn season with nothing to show for it.

Dustin thinks it might be nice to hand out candy to little kids, now that he's a high schooler. And hey, if he wants to reward himself with a piece of candy every time a trick-or-treater rings the doorbell? That's just good labor policy.

He goes to put on his Ghostbuster jacket. Just the jacket, not the full costume. He doesn't even plan to zip it up, just wear it over one of his t-shirts.

It doesn't fit him anymore.

Jesus, it's only been a year.

Author's Notes: Happy Hannukah!

I mistakenly called Jeff 'Fred' the first two chapters and didn't notice until we finally got to Fred Benson. All corrected now. He just seems more of a Fred than a Jeff, whatever.

Kevin the bare-chested math genius is a copy-paste of the character 'Harlan Emple' from Elementary. Too good not to use here.

Next chapter will be the last. I will post the Nightmare Before Christmas or die trying.