LXXIII

The next day they all sit down to have breakfast together. They've barely settled in—Henry and Eleven next to each other and Max in front of her friend—when the phone rings.

"I'll get it."

Both girls focus on their breakfast while Henry goes to take the call.

"It's strange," Eleven murmurs after swallowing a bite of her Eggos. "Normally no one calls…"

"I called you," Max replies.

"I mean, no one normally calls Henry," Eleven corrects. "That's it."

"Maybe he has a girlfriend or something?" Max guesses.

Eleven feels her throat tighten at her friend's comment. Which is unfortunate, considering she had just shoved a portion of waffles into her mouth. Soon she starts coughing and puts a hand to her throat trying uselessly to alleviate the uncomfortable sensation.

"Shit," her friend mutters as she gets up and runs to pour a glass of water, shortly bringing it to her. "Here, to push it down."

She accepts it with gratitude. Max seems to want to say something else, but then Henry is back. Seeing Max standing and Eleven almost choking on a glass of water, he frowns.

"Is there something wrong?"

"El spoke with her mouth full and choked," Max lies.

Henry tilts his head and reaches for Eleven's glass. "Okay, but don't drink too fast," he gently reprimands her as he moves it away from her lips. "It may harm you."

"Who was it?" Eleven asks instead of answering him.

Henry raises an eyebrow.

"I promise… not to choke on water. Again." She sighs then. "Who was it?"

"Joyce. She wanted to offer us Christmas lights at a special discount. But I told her we already have enough." As if to illustrate his point, he glances at the Christmas decorations and lights hanging on the dining room walls.

"Really, the only thing you guys are missing is mistletoe," Max murmurs.

Henry snorts as Eleven asks: "Mistletoe?"

The girl throws her a shocked look. Then, she slides her gaze from her to Henry: "You didn't tell her what a mistletoe is?"

"Oh, my deepest apologies, Max; it didn't come up in our biology lessons," Henry replies with a sardonic smile.

"What is a mistletoe?" Eleven repeats, already somewhat exasperated.

"It's a plant with very striking red fruits," her friend finally explains. "You hung it in some places and, by tradition, the people under it must kiss each other."

The very word 'kiss' brings unexpected memories to Eleven's mind, her cheeks turning red as she looks down and mutters a weak 'oh'.

"Why do you react like that?" Henry suddenly asks her, a curious expression on his face.

"Oh, shit…" Max mutters under her breath.

Henry, shrewd as always, turns his face abruptly towards the redhead: "Is there something you are not telling me, girls?"

"Ask El." Max hurries to wash her hands of the situation. "Not my business."

Eleven guesses the look she gives her friend must be ridiculous, somewhere between comical and serious, with the clear intention of reproaching her for her words at the same time she is scandalized by them.

"Eleven?" Henry addresses her now. "What aren't you telling me?"

Max chooses that moment to get up from the table and take her dishes to the sink.

"Max—!" Eleven protests, but she is unable to follow her because Henry has already trapped her hands in his and is preventing her from leaving.

"Eleven, can you explain to me what's happening?" His voice is soft and patient. Eleven knows that her face must look rueful, and that is why Henry maintains a façade of absolute patience when speaking. "I'm not upset," he clarifies in response to her silence. "I just want to know if there's something wrong."

Eleven thinks she could tell him that there's nothing wrong, that everything is fine, that there is nothing, absolutely nothing out of place or strange, but…

But that would be lying to him and, in addition to the fact that it is almost impossible to keep secrets where he is concerned, she simply does not want to hide the truth from him.

So she nods and says, doing her best to keep her voice steady as she speaks: "The day of the ball… I kissed Mike."