"Mike!" Nancy pounded on the door, startling Mike out of the deep sleep he'd been in, blissfully dead to the world. "I'm leaving in ten minutes, move your ass!"

Mike groaned and pulled his plaid comforter over his head as he turned towards the wall, ignoring his sister's rude awakening. It felt like he'd just closed his eyes five minutes ago and it was already time to face another day.

At least it was finally Friday. He'd found it increasingly difficult to drag himself out of bed and give a shit about school ever since Eleven had dumped his ass. Again. Except this time he was certain it was for real. He sighed and screwed his eyes shut as he thought back to the phone call he received two weeks ago.

He'd been completely blindsided. When he found out El had convinced Joyce to pay for the long-distance phone call Mike had been certain it was so they could iron out the details of his spring break visit.

Instead, she'd started talking about how hard the long-distance relationship was, and how they were living separate lives and making new friends; which Mike had stupidly assumed meant she had met some new guy to replace him with and accused her of such. She'd cut him off and assured him that wasn't the case and then went on about how she was only fifteen and needed to find out what kind of person she was on her own without being tied down; which led him to desperately suggest they go on a temporary break. Eleven had laughed sadly and said it would never work.

Mike had felt like he was barely even hearing her words, the blood was rushing in his ears and his heart was slamming against his rib cage. He was so caught off guard he couldn't even formulate proper sentences to tell her she wasn't making any sense and convince her to change her mind. He knew if he could just get to California in a few weeks and see her in person she'd remember why they were so perfect together.

"Goodbye Mike," she'd eventually said, voice thick with emotion, pausing as she waited for him to reply. He was too paralyzed with emotion and attempting to hold back his tears that he wasn't even able to get a word out. He heard her sigh and with a deafening click the line went dead, and with it so did Mike's heart.

Moving in slow motion he rested the phone back on the receiver on the kitchen wall and walked stoically down the hall, trying to hold it together until he made it to his room. His mom had been making dinner and saw him leave as she turned away from the stove.

"Dinner's ready in five minutes, honey!" she called out to him.

"I'm not hungry," Mike managed to call out in a shaky voice as he walked up the stairs and reached the privacy of his room, collapsing against the door as soon as he closed it and sinking to the floor.

He couldn't believe what just happened, it didn't even feel real. How did she end their years-long relationship just like that? In her previous letter, she seemed so excited for him to visit.

Sniffling, Mike crawled across his carpeted floor, pulling out the box under his bed that contained all the letters she'd sent him since she moved away. The words swam in front of him on the page as the tears he'd been holding back spilled over, the salty drops falling from his cheeks and onto the paper. Love, El he made out at the bottom. He crumpled the page in his hands and threw it across his room in frustration, throwing the shoebox and lid as well.

His breath was coming in pants, the occasional sob escaping him as his emotions crashed over him like a tidal wave. He pulled himself up to his knees with his mattress and grabbed his pillow, burying his face in it as he let out a muffled scream. It felt good. Cathartic. He did it again until his throat was raw and aching and then he crawled under the covers with his clothes still on and turned off the lights.

He heard his mom calling up for him to come eat dinner, and when he didn't reply she came up the stairs and knocked on his door.

"Go away!" Mike called out with a raspy voice from under his comforter.

His mom paused and then he heard his door squeak open. "Mike, honey? What's wrong?" He could only let out a pathetic whimper as he heard his mom cautiously approach his bed. "Is this because of your phone call with El?"

"Mhm." His mom sighed and he felt the mattress dip behind him as she perched on the edge of his bed.

"Did you get in a fight..?" she asked as she gingerly reached out and patted his shoulder over the covers. Mike took a shuddering breath as he tried to stop his tears.

"Sh-she broke up with me," he managed to get out as another sob worked its way through him.

"Oh, Michael… I'm so sorry," his mom said in a sympathetic voice as she squeezed his arm. "I'll make you a plate and leave it in the fridge if you feel like eating later, okay?" Mike nodded and figured she must have seen because a few seconds later she stood up and gently closed his door.

He heard the muffled sounds of her telling his dad and Nancy what had happened from the dining room.

An hour later Mike awoke suddenly, confused for a minute as to why he was in his clothes and why his alarm clock was showing that it was 7:00 when it was dark outside, and then he remembered.

Eleven had taken his heart and stomped it into the ground.

The wet spot of tears and mucus on his pillowcase reminded him that his nightmare was all too real.

He rolled over and clicked his lamp on, wrapping his comforter around himself like a cocoon as he slid off his bed, shuffled over to his cassette player and popped it open. Madonna's Like a Virgin had been the last thing he'd listened to. He let out a humourless laugh at the irony. He'd been listening to it because El had recently discovered it and said it was her new favourite.

He tossed the cassette aside and let it bounce on the floor as he flipped through his stack of tapes until he found what he was looking for. He cranked the volume as the opening chords of Foreigner's "Tooth and Nail" played through his speakers.

Still dragging his blanket behind him he made his way over to the corkboard above his desk, yanking down the numerous Polaroids, photo booth strips, and pictures of him and Eleven over the years. His hands shook as he held them, desperately wanting to rip them to shreds but finding he was unable to.

"Fucking pussy," he admonished himself as he picked up the discarded shoebox from the floor and tossed the pictures in along with the Madonna tape and the crumpled letters that littered his floor, slamming the lid on and shoving it deep into the back of his closet.

"How could I watch you walk away? I'd give anything to have you here today…" played over the speakers, cutting painfully close to the bone and unleashing a fresh wave of sadness over his soul. Mike let himself sink to the floor again and wrapped the blanket tightly around his body as the music washed over him.

A minute later he heard a faint knock at his door and after a few seconds it opened a crack, and he saw Nancy cautiously peeking inside.

"Oh Mike," she breathed as she opened the door the rest of the way. He glanced up at her wordlessly, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. Oh no. The opening notes of "I Want to Know What Love Is" began to play, and Mike felt the tears slip down his cheeks.

Nancy quickly sat down next to him and he noticed for the first time she was holding a tub of rocky road ice cream and two spoons. She cracked it open and handed him a spoon, not waiting for him to take the first scoop before digging in. Mike reluctantly joined her, the ice cream tasting like nothing as it melted on his tongue, but they just kept eating in silence as the angsty lyrics filled the room, not stopping until the tape was over and the ice cream was gone.

That first week Nancy and his mom had been exceedingly patient with him, letting him eat dinner in his room and play video games or watch TV in the basement all evening. Dustin and Lucas had been just as shocked as he was, and they were understanding when he skipped Hellfire Club that week and when he sat in silence at lunch, listlessly picking at his food.

By the second week, it seemed like everyone expected him to be over it, his parents limiting his television time again and forcing him to do his homework and eat dinner downstairs.

Dustin had been pestering him about the next Hellfire meeting and Lucas had been asking if he was coming to his basketball game. Mike didn't know how to tell them he just didn't give a shit about any of that anymore. He just wanted to wallow and oscillate between rage and sadness, the only two emotions he seemed able to muster these days. So he half-assed his school assignments, nodded politely at the dinner table, answered questions in one or two words, and ignored his friends' persistent phone calls and walkie-talkie attempts.

Mike sighed as he dragged himself out of bed, picking up the wrinkled long-sleeved grey t-shirt he'd worn yesterday from the floor and pulling it on along with his jeans. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror as he grabbed his backpack and made his way toward the door. His hair was a greasy mess and he had dark purple circles under his eyes. Well, at least his looks matched how he felt on the inside, he thought as he made his way down the stairs where Nancy was waiting impatiently.

"Ugh Mike, when was the last time you did laundry? Or showered for that matter?" she wrinkled her nose as she took in his appearance. Mike shrugged and shoved past her and out the front door, throwing himself in the passenger seat of Nancy's car.

He'd gotten his driver's license a few days after his sixteenth birthday but his parents informed him he'd have to share the car with Nancy until she went off to college in a few months.

Nancy got in the driver's seat but didn't move to start the car, sitting and looking at Mike instead. He rolled his eyes as he felt her gaze on him out of his periphery. Here comes the unsolicited advice.

"Mike…" she started cautiously. "I know you're heartbroken but I think you need to start the process of moving on." Mike snorted and shook his head. "Wallowing is just going to make it harder, I think you should start going to your board game club again and hanging out with Dustin and Lucas, it'll help take your mind off things."

"Hellfire isn't a board game club, Nancy," he shot back. "Can we just fucking go to school already? I don't need your advice." Nancy pursed her lips but didn't say anything as she started the car and backed out of the driveway.

Later that morning he was switching his textbooks in his locker between periods when he saw a flash of orange out of the corner of his eye. Max. She was standing at her locker down the hall, fiddling with the Walkman she'd been perpetually sporting around her neck.

She'd distanced herself from the group pretty quickly after last summer, pushing Lucas away until he had no choice but to break up with her. At the time Mike had thought she was a total bitch but now he could kind of see how the group could be overbearing. And he figured she'd been dealing with Billy's death, although Mike couldn't see how he'd had any redeeming qualities to mourn.

He turned his head imperceptibly to the side to look at her. Her long red hair was tied in a limp ponytail with a scrunchie, and she was wearing her usual baggy ensemble of jeans and an oversized shirt. He noticed she had dark circles under her eyes that matched his own. I guess she's not sleeping either, he thought to himself.

Then she slammed her locker shut and turned towards him, catching him staring. She raised an eyebrow and gave him a tight smile of acknowledgement as she passed him, headphones on her ears and eyes quickly trained back on the ground.

Mike wondered where she spent her lunch hours, realizing he hadn't seen her in the cafeteria since she broke up with Lucas.

"Earth to Mike?" Mike jumped as Dustin leaned himself against the locker next to him. "You were totally spaced out dude," he said. Mike shook the thoughts of Max out of his head as he forced a smile at Dustin.

"Just thinking about the chemistry lab I have later," he lied.

"Mr. Brown's class? I've heard it's gnarly," Dustin nodded sympathetically. "That's why I stuck with physics for my science course." Mike nodded as he picked his backpack up off the ground, shouldering it as Dustin put a hand on his arm. "Hey, so Hellfire tonight, are you coming?" Mike grimaced at the thought of that much social interaction for hours.

"Um, I don't think so man," he shook his head. "Not really feeling up to it yet." A disappointed look crossed Dustin's face as he nodded.

"Alright buddy, I'll see you at lunch then?"

"Yeah, maybe," Mike said noncommittally as he turned and made his way to his second period class, leaving his friend behind.

When the bell rang for lunch Mike found himself strangely obsessed with finding out where Max was hiding, maybe because he was finally thinking about something other than how El smashed his heart to smithereens.

He quickly bypassed his locker and the cafeteria, not wanting to run into Lucas or Dustin and have to explain what he was doing.

He peered into the empty classrooms as he walked by, only seeing the occasional teacher cleaning up. The library and gymnasium were busy but he didn't spot a petite redhead anywhere.

Mike exited the building through the side door and made his way to the bleachers where kids would go to make out or smoke. The snow had mostly melted and there was a warm breeze that smelled unmistakably like spring in the air.

He reached the bleachers and squinted into the darkness, spotting a few couples tangled around each other and a group of punks smoking what smelled like cloves and blasting music out of a stereo. Where the hell does she go? he thought to himself in frustration.

He figured she wouldn't be anywhere too crowded, but she also didn't seem like the type to lower herself to eating lunch in a bathroom stall.

Mike groaned as he tugged on the side door's handle, realizing it locked itself from the inside. He was making his way towards the main doors on the other side of the building when he rounded a corner and stopped in his tracks as his eyes landed on Max. Shit, he hadn't actually thought of what he was going to do once he found her.

She was leaning back, one foot against the wall and headphones on her ears as she smoked a cigarette, resting her head back and exhaling a cloud of smoke into the air. Seeing movement out of the corner of her eye, she whipped her head towards him, eyebrows knitting together in confusion when she realized who had interrupted her smoke break.

She slowly lowered her headphones, letting them rest around her neck as he approached her shyly.

"What's up stalker?" she asked flatly, raising an eyebrow as he came to a stop in front of her. Mike shrugged, ignoring her question and the old nickname.

"Since when do you smoke?"

Max frowned and took another drag. "Since when do you give a shit?" she shot back. Mike leaned against the wall next to her, facing forwards as well. Max tilted her head to the side to look at him. "Did I say you could join me?"

"You don't own this wall, Max," he said, familiar annoyance creeping over him. This was more like the girl he remembered, always prickly and ready with a comeback.

"Whatever," she sighed, lifting the cigarette to her lips and looking forward again, apparently done with the conversation. Mike frowned. This quiet and despondent Max was definitely new.

"Can I uh, have one?" Mike asked, nodding his chin towards the pack in her other hand. Max looked up at him, frowning again as she realized what he was talking about. He could tell she was fighting the urge to make some remark about how he didn't smoke, or how he should get his own, but instead, she just shrugged and wordlessly tossed him the pack. Mike fumbled with it for a second and got it open, taking out a cigarette and an old, worn-out looking blue lighter with some kind of skull sticker on it. He realized he had no idea what he was doing as he flipped the cigarette around in his fingers, trying to figure out which end went in his mouth.

"It's this way," Max murmured, turning it around in his hand, pulling back sharply when her fingertips brushed his.

"Thanks," Mike nodded, holding the lighter to the tip. Max grabbed his arm to stop him.

"You put it in your mouth first, dummy," she said, the tiniest hint of amusement in her voice. "Here, let me do it." She grabbed the lighter from him and gestured to him to put the cigarette between his lips. He stared down at her as she used one hand to shield the flame from the wind and leaned closer to him.

He'd forgotten how many freckles she had on her face.

"Now breathe in so it lights." Mike took a deep breath as she held the lighter to the cigarette, waiting for the tip to glow bright orange before stepping back and sliding the lighter back into her pocket. He felt the harsh burn of the smoke scorch his lungs and throat and he coughed profusely, turning away from Max. He heard her let out a stuttering breath that he could have sworn sounded like a laugh as he continued to cough his lungs out for a few seconds before composing himself.

Max pulled out the new cigarette she'd had tucked behind her ear and lit it, smoothly blowing out a cloud of smoke and watching it get carried away by the wind. Mike took another drag of his, still burning his throat but at least he managed not to cough this time.

They stood in silence, smoking and watching the melting snow drip off the roof in a staccato beat. Mike found himself feeling slightly dizzy and lightheaded as he smoked down his cigarette. He could kind of see why people did this, it was a pretty relaxing and mindlessly repetitive ritual.

He thought he heard Max take a breath like she was about to say something when they were interrupted by the sound of quick footsteps coming around the corner.

"Hey!" a stern male voice called out.

"Shit," Max said under her breath as she dropped the butt of her cigarette to the ground and covered it with her hightop. "Ditch the smoke, idiot!" But Mike felt frozen as he watched Vice Principal Walker stride towards them with a look of disappointment on his face as he glanced from Mike's hand to Mike's face to Max.

"Miss Mayfield, I should have known you've been the one smoking out here, which I'm sure you're aware is against school policy. But you, Mr. Wheeler, I expected more from you," he said as he stopped in front of the pair and crossed his arms. Max dropped her head and didn't say a word.

"I had hoped, Mr. Wheeler, that you'd follow in your sister's footsteps and pick a useful extracurricular activity rather than spend your time with… lost causes." Mike grimaced at Walker's unfairly harsh words, certain that Max would say something and stand up for herself, but she just kept looking at the ground and remained silent. She seemed so defeated.

"I'll see you both in detention after school. And I'll take those," he snapped as he snatched the half-full pack of cigarettes from Mike's hand.

As the vice principal turned the corner out of sight Max slipped her headphones back on her ears and shoved passed Mike wordlessly, their brief reunion over before it really began.

The afternoon dragged on as Mike doodled spirals and triangles in the margins of his notebook, tuning out the endless droning of his teachers.

He couldn't stop thinking about how different Max was from the fiery girl he used to call a friend. He probably should have noticed much earlier but he was always preoccupied with Eleven, and when her next letter would be or when they would get to have a rare phone call. Like that mattered.

Now he felt like a total dick for not noticing or giving a shit sooner. It was something in her eyes. They used to be so bright and blue, sparkling with mischief. Now they were just dull and flat; it was like the fire inside her had been extinguished.

The final bell rang and as most of the students hurried to their lockers Mike dragged himself to the empty classroom the school used for detention. There was one other student already in there, a senior he vaguely recognized who had his head down on his folded arms, eyes closed. Mike nodded at the bored-looking teacher who had been tasked with supervising before sliding into an empty desk in the back row, taking out his homework and figuring he may as well catch up on some of the assignments he'd been putting off.

"Headphones off, Miss Mayfield," the teacher drawled from the front of the room. Mike whipped his head up and he saw Max walk in.

She rolled her eyes as she removed her headphones and Walkman, dropping them into the drawer the teacher had opened. She locked the drawer with a small key she quickly pocketed.

Max took the desk closest to the window, one row to the left and ahead of where Mike was sitting. She slumped forward and leaned on her elbow, her hand tiredly propping up her head.

"You're all here until 4:30, you may work silently on your homework, but no talking and no leaving the classroom without permission." The teacher stood from her desk, straightening her frumpy dress as she headed for the door. "I have some organizing to do in the music room, but I will come back and check on you, and if anyone is out of their seat or talking, it'll be another week of detention," she finished before firmly closing the door behind her.

Mike sighed as he tried to concentrate on the history worksheet in front of him, realizing how little he'd been paying attention these past couple of weeks when he didn't know any of the answers.

Half an hour later Mike had finished his assignment and reached down to slide it into his backpack. No one had spoken since the teacher left. He was pretty sure the senior on the other side of the room was fully asleep. The Breakfast Club, this was not.

He let his gaze drift over to Max. He'd noticed her start anxiously bouncing her knee shortly after sitting down, and now that he really looked at her he realized she looked extremely tense. He saw the muscle in her jaw flexing, and her left hand was pinching the bridge of her nose like she had a headache. Her right hand was resting on her thigh and her fist was clenched so tightly her knuckles were white.

"Max," he whispered, leaning towards her. She turned her head back and frowned at him. "What are you doing?" He nodded towards her hand. She looked down sharply and relaxed her fist, wiping her palm on her faded jeans and leaving a faint red streak behind. Mike frowned, realizing she'd been digging her nails into her palm so hard she'd broken the skin.

Max stood up suddenly, the metal chair scraping loudly on the linoleum before she made her way for the door.

"Max-" he called out as the door slammed behind her. Mike looked around helplessly, knowing they weren't supposed to leave but worried about her getting into more trouble. "Fuck it," he muttered under his breath as he stood and beelined for the door.

He spotted her just down the hall at the vending machine, shaking it in frustration.

"Piece of shit ate my quarter," she muttered as Mike quickly walked up to her.

"You can't be out here dude, you'll get another week of detention!" Max looked up at him with tired blue eyes and raised a brow.

"Well you'd better get back to the room then, Stalker." She kicked the machine, wincing at the contact. "Some of us aren't itching to run home anyway," she added under her breath.

Mike furrowed his brow at that and placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a gentle push away from the machine. She glared at him as he fished a quarter out of his pocket and spotted the Kit-Kat bar wedged in between the glass. He pressed the right buttons and the machine whirred as two chocolate bars dropped down into the slot.

Max moved quickly and snatched both bars, shoving one in her pocket as she stalked back to the classroom.

"That's for the cigarettes," she called over her shoulder, red ponytail bouncing with each step.