LXXV

She doesn't remember the last time she felt this angry—angry in this visceral, dangerous way. She doesn't even care that Max is there to see it: Eleven feels her fists shaking with rage, and she has every intention of repaying Henry for what he's done to her—or at least trying to—when they hear someone knocking on the door. Henry looks away from her to flash a smile at Max.

"Maxine, would you be so kind as to get that, please?"

Her friend is quick to comply with the request without question, and Eleven figures any excuse to get away from the two of them is a good one right now.

Henry looks at her again once they are alone.

"You did it… on purpose," she accuses him, forcing herself not to yell at him.

The man tilts his head and places one hand on top of the other as he adopts a deliberately innocent smile. "I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

Eleven doesn't want to confront him here and now and start arguing with Max so close, especially without knowing who knocked on the door. So she just shakes her head and blurts out: "You know… I always choose you."

"Good." His voice does not betray any concern. "Do always keep it in mind."

Now she really sees red. She opens her mouth to respond when she hears Max's startled voice coming from the hallway: "Mom?!"

Eleven is ready to run towards her friend, but she just stays in the same place—her body does not follow her orders.

"Henry!" she protests, because he hasn't immobilized her jaw. "Let me—!" And then, she is silent. Because she sees the logic behind his actions. "You knew Mrs. Mayfield was coming."

The invisible force that subjugates her body fades. She turns to him.

"I got a call from Hopper this morning," he explains.

"Hopper?"

"Apparently, he and Mrs. Mayfield had an… enlightening talk. So my advice is to leave them alone."

Eleven suppresses a sigh and turns her back on him.

"Eleven…"

"I won't bother them."

"Then, would you like to—?"

"But I don't want to see you right now either," she snaps.

She doesn't stay to see Henry's reaction.

She simply goes to her room.

When her mother finally breaks the tight hug and promises she will return in a couple of hours to pick her up, a deep relief that seems to dissolve all her worries seeps into Max.

However, as soon as she walks through the front door, she remembers what she had witnessed just half an hour earlier.

"Shit," she mutters.

"Hm? Hasn't the issue been solved yet?"

She then notices the presence of Henry, who is, once again, standing in front of the clock.

Scary, she thinks, unable to help herself. And then, not entirely convinced, she adds an apology: Sorry.

However, Henry does not react; she supposes that he may have been telling the truth when he promised not to get inside her head again.

She decides it's better to respond: "Yeah… I think so. Mom's gonna put some things in order and then she'll come for me."

Henry finally looks at her and offers her a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Is that so? Good to know, Max."

She nods and glances toward the door that leads to the courtyard. From where she is, she can't tell whether her friend is there.

"What about El?" she asks him then. "Still outside?"

His expression alters minimally—a slight wrinkle at the side of his mouth tells her how upset he is.

"She's in her room."

"Oh. I see…. I'll go with her."

Henry doesn't say anything and just looks at the clock again.

However, just like the night before, Max stays halfway up the stairs. Shit, she thinks again. She squeezes her eyes shut and then, taking a deep breath, turns to Henry: "I wanna tell you something."

He looks at her with apparent disinterest: "Indeed?"

Max goes down the steps and then goes to stand in front of him.

"I don't know… what's going on between you and El. But what you did to her… it was wrong."

Henry raises his eyebrows. Max's hands shake and she forces herself to clench her fists to stop them.

"Wrong?"

"Yeah. I don't know what bothered you… I guess it was… the Mike thing?" she surmises with a rictus; Henry's carefully neutral expression confirms it. "If that's what this is about… Well, I don't know what kind of… rules… you have between you, but… I don't know, haven't you considered talking to her instead of… doing what you did? I heard your conversation and… And you told her you weren't upset, and then? You did… that."

Henry takes a step towards her as he cocks his head with something akin to curiosity shining in his eyes. Max is aware that her breathing has quickened because of the adrenaline now pumping through her veins, yet she refuses to take a single step back.

"You're an opinionated young lady, aren't you, Maxine?"

"I don't know, you were in my head, you tell me," she retorts.

This steals a smile from him. "And irreverent, too."

"I'm telling you, you already know all that," she insists, internally praying that her voice doesn't break.

"Indeed," he concedes with a sigh, his shoulders less tense.

Now that Henry doesn't seem to be seconds away from murdering her, Max continues: "Look, I don't know you. Not at all. But I know El. She has been my friend for a while now. And I know that what you did hurt her a lot."

"I can imagine girls your age suffer whenever their whims are denied." His tone is acidic.

"Uh, but that's the thing… This isn't about Mike. Or about whatever El feels about him, but about you. About the two of you."

Henry frowns as if she had told him something incomprehensible. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah." Max sighs and then bites her lip as she ponders how to continue. "If you had told her, I don't know, that it was bothering you or whatever… She would have tried to fix it somehow. To reach a middle ground with you, anything. But like this? You tell her that it doesn't bother you, that you even want her to introduce him to you, and then you punish her (in a violent way) and… And it hurt her, obviously.

"Because she cares about you."