-Will-

Something about the hesitant knock on my door tells me it's Eleven. I stop pacing and watch the knob, but it doesn't move. Her voice carries through instead: "Can I come in?"

I'd rather you didn't, I want to say, but she sounds pretty miserable. So I swallow my anger and invite her in: "Sure."

With the air of someone entering a hospital room or a funeral home, my sister slips into my room and closes the door behind her. Her eyes dart to my bed, where we usually sit to talk. But I stay standing this time. "What was that?" I demand, keeping my voice down.

Judging by the way she's avoiding my eyes, she knows exactly what I'm talking about. "I don't know," she admits quietly. "It just came out."

"It's supposed to be a secret, El! It can't 'just come out'!"

She winces at my distress, and I start pacing again, trying to reign in my emotions. "I don't think they realized," she points out hopefully.

"Not yet," I mutter, "until they think about it more."

El gives me a shrinking look. "Do you really think they would be mad if they found out?"

I sigh at the thought. I have no idea what Mom and Hopper would think about the fact that I've been secretly dating my best friend for almost a year now. I doubt they'd be very happy about it. So far, Jonathan and El are the only ones I've told, since Jesse and I decided to keep things quiet until we graduated high school. Granted, that day is almost here - but I'd much rather chart out that conversation than improvise something on the spot, just in case there is some kind of explosive reaction. At this point, I think my mom would be less upset that I'm gay and more upset that I hid my relationship from her for so long. And I wasn't really planning on telling Hopper, at least not directly.

"I don't know how they'll react," I answer at last, "but I'd rather not dump it on them out of nowhere." As my sister looks away again, I add dryly, "And speaking of planning things out, I thought we agreed to work together on this. Now we're both in the same crappy situation."

The disappointment in my voice makes her cringe. "I know. I'm sorry." Her guilty grimace morphs into an irritated scowl. "It was just so ridiculous that they would've let you go but not me. Do you know how unfair that is?"

A hint of pity dilutes my annoyance. Drained from all the drama, I sit heavily on my bed. "Yeah, I get it - but a lot of things are unfair for me too," I tell her.

"What do you mean?"

As my sister sits next to me, she looks genuinely puzzled. Because of her childhood, El has a hard time grasping social constructs and traditions. That's part of the reason I felt so comfortable telling her the truth; I knew she wouldn't judge me. But I always figured her acceptance comes in part from her innocence. Choosing my words carefully, I reply, "Your relationship is normal. Mine isn't."

She seems even more confused. "I'm not normal," she points out.

"No, but...if someone saw you and Mike holding hands, nobody would think it's weird, because...because it's the same as the couples you'd see on TV or in magazines." El furrows her brows like she's picturing herself and Mike in a sitcom, and I go on, "People might judge you because of something you say or do, but they won't judge you just because you're with Mike. For me, it's not that simple. I can't go around acting like I'm in a relationship. Even if our parents don't see me any differently, a lot of people would. They might even try to hurt me. That's why I want to keep it a secret for now. Understand?"

That seems to get through to her. El nods solemnly, but the hint of uncertainty in her eyes reminds me of something from earlier. I want to ask her about it, but I'm not sure I want to know the answer. "What is it?" She asks, frowning at my expression.

Pushing away the awkwardness, I ask gingerly, "Did you and Mike have any plans for that night?"

The pink tint in her face tells me she understands my meaning. "No," she responds, a little defensive. "Did you and...?"

I'm shaking my head before she finishes. "Nope."

El frowns at her knees like she's lost in thought. Then she gives me a skeptical look. "Did Mike say something to you?"

"Why would he say something to me and not you?"

A small sigh escapes her. "I don't know. I guess I'm just..."

"Nervous?" I suggest softly.

"Maybe," she admits. My attentive stare only makes her blush deeper. Avoiding my eyes, she shakes her head like she's shooing the thought away. "It doesn't matter. At this rate, we'll be lucky if we're allowed out of the house that night."

"We'll figure this out. I'll tell them something," I reason, ignoring the twinge of guilt in my chest.

"When are you going to tell them the truth?" El asks softly.

As I ponder that, my eyes wander to a drawing on my wall. The sharply shadowed piece shows a wizard and a rogue surrounded by an army of unnatural creatures, fighting back-to-back. It's a distinct comic-like style that I've grown to love but never been able to master myself. My gaze lingers on the rogue, with his wild golden hair and sly grin. The sight eases the pressure in my chest, and resolution settles in its place.

"Soon," I decide. "Once I find the right time."