Author's Note:
Surprise! This is a fic I've been chipping away at for a long time, and I really wanted to get it published before wrapping up my sequel fic and the entire series. El's POV is really challenging to write from, so I hope didn't make her too OOC. I also made the popular kids more nuanced than in the show because I think that's more interesting.
Also, I'm really not trying to be a Mileven hater, but writing all these Madwheeler fics where I've had to break them up I've kind of realized how thin the foundation of their relationship is? I get the initial infatuation on both their parts but like… what do they talk about?
Anyway, here is my version of what was going on with El leading up to and during "this is what it sounds like", and I hope I did her justice. Also keep in mind that teenagers are complex and messy and make mistakes, so please don't be too hard on my girl.
Enjoy!
Everything changed for El about a week into the second semester at her new school.
The bell for lunch rang, and she was packing up her things when a pair of white canvas sneakers came to a stop in front of her. She slowly looked up to see Angela leaning against her desk, flocked on either side by her friends.
El knew of Angela and her popular clique, everybody did. She hadn't had any classes with them her first semester, and she had worked hard to make herself unnoticeable. But now it seemed her time was up.
The blonde tilted her head to the side and looked El up and down. "So is it true you're from Iowa?"
El took a shaky breath, forcing herself to look into Angela's scrutinizing green eyes. "Indiana…"
"Did you like, live on a farm?" Michelle, the brunette on Angela's left asked.
"Um no, I lived in a town… Hawkins."
"Oh." Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Why do you wear so much flannel then?"
El looked down at the plaid shirt she was wearing. "Uh, my mom bought them for me?"
"You're adorable," Angela laughed. "Have lunch with us today."
"Oh." She usually ate with Will, but the invitation seemed like more of a command than a question. "Um, okay."
And that was how it started. El became part of their group without question, nobody daring to challenge Angela's decision.
At first, she'd been holding her breath, expecting them to laugh in her face and tell her it was all a joke, but it never came. She felt a little bad about leaving Will to eat lunch alone in the art room, but she wasn't about to jeopardize her position in the popular group by inviting him.
When they'd first moved to Lenora Hills, El had thought she'd been ready. In fact, she'd been looking forward to it. She had thought that the countless old episodes of The Brady Bunch and all the teen movies she'd watched would have been enough, but nothing could have prepared her for actually being in high school.
There were so many unspoken rules—get good grades, but not too good, because then you would be a nerd, and do not put your hand up in class, even when you know the answer, or you will be labelled a teacher's pet, but if you get called up to the blackboard then you had better get it right or everyone will laugh; be good at sports in gym class but do not be too intense about it unless you want to be told to "take a chill pill", dress nice but don't look like you're trying too hard… It made her head hurt trying to keep it all straight.
She and Will had kept to themselves, Will hiding in the art room every chance he got, while El went to the empty library and did her homework, probably taking twice as long as everyone else did since it was her first time in school. At least math made sense, but she was hopeless at writing essays for English and History.
Thankfully, it wasn't as bad as Mike's experience had been in his first year, getting bullied every day until he and the boys joined the Dungeons and Dragons club where the older boys protected them.
Mostly, she just felt invisible.
She thought about Hopper all the time. A country song would come on the radio and she'd be transported back to weekend mornings in the cabin, the sunlight streaming in through the dirty windows as he danced around the kitchen and sang along while she hid her face in embarrassment. She even thought she saw him sometimes, whenever there would be a tall, burly man in the grocery store or the mall, and her heart would leap with hope only to be dashed once they turned around and revealed a stranger's face.
He would have been so excited about her starting school. He would have asked about her day and sat with her at the table for hours helping her with homework.
Joyce was doing her best, but she had been so busy trying to find a new job since they moved here. And she was grieving too, El supposed. She had been there to witness his last moments, had looked into his eyes as he sacrificed himself for them.
Everything was different now. If she had known last year that all she would get was a mere nine months of happiness in Hawkins, she would have cherished every moment. Now she had no dad, no Mike, and no powers—each of them a piece of her that had been forcibly cut away, leaving her less than whole.
There was a time when her powers had felt like a burden, something that made her a freak when all she ever wanted was to be normal. Now she was, and she didn't feel like the same girl anymore.
El sighed and held onto the straps of her backpack as she made her way toward the student parking lot where Jonathan and Will would be waiting to drive home. She squinted in the bright sunlight and shielded her eyes. It was early January but you wouldn't know it. It was warm all the time in Lenora Hills. No spring, no autumn, just one steady season of dry desert heat.
She spotted them in the distance, leaning against Jonathan's car and talking. But then a bright red convertible screeched to a stop in front of her, startling her so much she jumped backwards.
"Hey babe," Angela called out as she peered over her purple-tinted sunglasses at El from the passenger seat. Her boyfriend Jake, a junior, was behind the wheel, while Stacy and Chad cuddled up in the back seat. "Get in, we're going to my house."
El blinked, heart still racing from the close call with the car. It had been two weeks since she'd become a part of their group, and it still didn't feel real. She wasn't even sure if she liked them. They were nothing like The Party back in Hawkins, but there were moments when they were okay. Stacy and Michelle were nice, especially when Angela wasn't around, and Tanner, Michelle's boyfriend, could be pretty funny. He reminded her of Dustin sometimes.
But they seemed to spend all their time gossiping about other people or talking about the latest football game that the boys were playing in. El found she had nothing to contribute to either topic, opting to just smile and nod along.
She spent a lot of time discreetly observing Angela, trying to copy the way she flipped her shiny, blonde hair over her shoulder; the fake soft, sweet voice she put on when she spoke to teachers that seemed to magically convince them to believe anything she said; the way she tilted her head and narrowed her eyes when she appraised someone, a dangerous smile pulling at the corner of her glossy lips as she decided if they were worthy of praise or scorn.
At the moment, Angela was staring at her with her eyebrows raised impatiently so El nodded, waving and catching Will's attention as Stacy shifted over to the middle seat so she could slide in next to her. He gave her the disapproving look he'd been giving her a lot lately but nodded, saying something to Jonathan who turned around and waved to El before making his way to the driver's side of his car.
Jake peeled out of the parking lot before she could even get her seatbelt done up, rock music blaring as they sped through the suburban streets.
The other teens seemed unfazed by their friend's unsafe driving, casually chatting about the upcoming game while the wind whipped their hair around their faces. El clutched her backpack tightly in her lap and didn't take a breath until they were pulling up to the ornate security gate at the entrance to Angela's community.
Her eyes were wide as they pulled into the circular driveway in front of Angela's house. It was like nothing El had seen before—a massive, two-story, all-white mansion with balconies in front of every window and two towering, ornate columns on either side of the front door reaching all the way to the roof.
To her relief, the boys just dropped the girls off and sped away to do their own activity. Now they were in Angela's massive bedroom, the Tiffany album playing from the stereo as they lay on the plush pink carpet, reading magazines. El ran her fingers over the glossy pages of "must-have" clothing and makeup she knew Joyce would never be able to afford.
"So Stace, I heard you gave Chad a beej in his parent's pool house last weekend," Angela said, punctuating her statement by blowing a bubble with the gum she was chewing.
Stacy looked up from her magazine and grinned. "Maybe."
Angela laughed and shook her head. "You're such a slut."
"Oh please, like you and Jake didn't practically go all the way at Justin's New Year's party."
El felt her face getting hot and kept her eyes on the magazine in her lap. She knew all about sex now from the book Joyce had given her a few months ago when she'd finally gotten her period, but it didn't seem appealing to her in the slightest. She remembered getting to the paragraph about oral sex and promptly slamming the book closed before throwing it across the room, unable to imagine why anyone would ever want to do that.
Kissing Mike was nice and it made her stomach feel tingly sometimes, but she hadn't really felt the desire to do much more. The few times he had slid his hands up towards her chest she'd flinched away, telling him it tickled.
"Jane, sweetie," Angela said, looking her over from where she was lounging on her canopy bed. "What is this outfit?"
El looked down at the floral dress she had layered over a gingham blouse and leggings. "It's from Sears… I– I thought it was nice."
"Maybe back in Idaho," Angela snorted. "You look like a Sunday school teacher."
"Indiana," El muttered under her breath.
"Hm?"
"Nothing."
Angela got up and walked over to the double doors at the other end of her room. "Come here, I think we're the same size."
El got up and followed her through the doors, mouth falling open at the racks of clothes and shelves of shoes that surrounded her. A closet that was a separate room? She hadn't even known such a thing existed. She spun around in a slow circle. It was the size of her bedroom at Hopper's cabin. Bigger.
"Hold this." Angela began plucking clothes from the hangers and piling them into El's arms. Her eyes went wide as she held up a ruffled light pink skirt.
"Oh, I don't know if I can wear this…" she breathed, eyeing the short hemline.
"Why not?" Angela asked, cocking her head to the side. "I bet you have killer legs." El chewed the inside of her lip, certain Angela's trendy clothes would look ridiculous on her gawky frame.
"Just try it on, hun," she said as she made her way back to her room. "And then come out and show us!"
El took off her clothes and put on the first outfit—faded, high-waisted denim shorts that were shorter than any she'd worn before and a light pink sleeveless polo shirt that looked like the bottom third was missing.
She studied herself in the full-length mirror, fruitlessly tugging the hem of the top lower. She actually looked… kind of nice? Her shoulders looked good and the pastel colours accentuated the tan she'd acquired since moving. The sparse, light hairs on her legs made her grimace though, and she made a mental note to ask Joyce to teach her how to shave.
"What's the holdup, babe? Let's see it!" Angela called from the other room.
"Fashion show! Fashion show!" Stacy chanted.
Her heart felt like it was in her throat as she slowly pushed open the doors of the closet and emerged into the bedroom. She kept her eyes down and prepared for laughter and criticism.
Angela popped her gum. "Oh em effing gee."
"Jane, you're like, a hottie!" Stacy exclaimed.
El blushed and lifted her gaze to see the girls grinning at her approvingly. Sure, Mike called her pretty, but hot? Hot was for models in magazines and cheerleaders with long legs and developed chests.
Angela clapped twice. "Next outfit!"
She spent the rest of the afternoon modelling the clothes Angela had picked out, posing like the girls in the magazines with one hand on her hip and the other flipping back her hair. They turned up the music and Angela and Stacy joined in too, putting on some of the fancier dresses from the back of the closet and dancing around.
It was the most fun she'd had since moving to Lenora Hills. For the first time, El felt like they were real friends. It reminded her of going to the mall with Max last summer.
She felt a pang of guilt when she thought about Max. She needed to remember to write to her too. Mike had told her in a letter about her breakup with Lucas, and how she seemed different all of a sudden. El knew she was probably feeling conflicted about Billy's death. She had felt all of his pain and self-hatred when she had been in his mind. It was hard not to feel sympathy for such a damaged person.
"Here you go," she said a few hours later, placing the neatly folded pile of borrowed clothes on the cushioned bench next to Angela. It was nearly time for dinner and Jonathan was on his way to pick her up.
"Oh no, you can keep them," she said with a wave of her manicured hand.
El's eyes widened. "Really?"
"Yeah, they're so last season anyway. But they're still better than your old clothes."
"Wow look at you," Joyce smiled the next morning when El came out of her room dressed in one of her new outfits. "Where did you get those?"
"My friend Angela," she said as she took a seat at the kitchen table. "She doesn't wear them anymore."
"Well, that was nice of her."
Will snorted from across the table. "Nice is the last word most people would use to describe her."
"She's nice to me," El shot back, frowning at him over her glass of orange juice. He'd been in a bad mood ever since she had started spending time with Angela's group.
"What does Mike think about your new 'friends'?"
"He thinks it is great and he is very happy for me."
El hadn't actually gotten a letter back from Mike yet, but she was excited to see his response. Before Angela had brought her into the group, she was considering just making things up in her letters to Mike so he wouldn't worry about her and think she was still a pathetic, friendless loser.
Now when he visited in March he would see how well she was doing. How normal she was.
During the last week of January, Michelle came over to El's house to work on a geography project they'd partnered up on. She had been nervous for anyone to see the modest split-level home because it surely wasn't as nice as theirs, but if Michelle had any negative thoughts about it, she didn't say anything.
El sat nervously on the edge of her bed, textbook open on her lap as she watched Michelle wander around her bedroom.
"Who's this?" she asked, picking up a framed photo of El and Mike from just before she had left Hawkins.
"My boyfriend, Mike," El answered, unable to keep the smile off of her face.
"Oh," Michelle glanced up at her with a raised eyebrow, "you didn't break up when you moved away?"
"No. We're still together."
"Aw," she smiled and put the picture back down, "he must really love you, huh?"
"Um, yes…" El's smile faded as she thought of all the letters in her box signed "From, Mike". He still hadn't said it, after all this time.
"I couldn't imagine only seeing Tanner once or twice a year…" Michelle sighed. "I'd feel like we were just missing out on each other's lives, you know?"
"Yeah…" A heavy pit formed in El's stomach. It did feel like that sometimes. A lot of the time, actually.
"Oh shit, I didn't mean you. I bet you guys are totally solid," Michelle quickly added when she saw the look on her face.
El forced a smile. "Totally.'
Were they solid, though? She found herself wondering. Sometimes it felt like she was barely in a real relationship. It was like half a relationship. Less than that. Images of fraction pie charts from math class floated in her mind. A quarter of one, maybe.
She missed him so much it hurt. Seeing him a few times a year for a handful of days at a time wasn't nearly enough to fill the hole in her chest.
Some days she found she could barely remember what his voice sounded like. She would give anything to be able to see him every day like she had over the summer, but that would have to wait until they were done high school. Two and a half more years… that was a long time.
"Let's get started on this project, huh?" Michelle said brightly, taking a seat next to El and clearly trying to lighten the mood.
El bit the inside of her cheek and tried to shake off the weird feeling that had come over her, but it was too late. For the first time, a genuine seed of doubt had taken root in her heart.
The next weekend they all went to the roller rink. El had been terrible at first but Stacy and Michelle looped their elbows through hers on either side and skated around under the lights of the disco ball until she was able to stand on her own.
El was smiling and out of breath as she rolled into the booth the girls were seated around. She adjusted her off-the-shoulder sweatshirt and took a sip of the Pepsi she'd gotten earlier, looking around when she realized they were just silently grinning at her.
"So Jane…" Angela started, resting her chin in her hand, "Brandon told CJ who told Tara who told me… that Marcus thinks you're pretty."
"Oh." El felt her cheeks getting warm.
Marcus was one of Jake's friends from the football team. He hung out with them on occasion but he was often busy with extracurriculars. He was on the debate team as well as the student council, and he had dark skin and muscular arms and the brightest smile she'd ever seen.
He was always smiling whenever she saw him… and he was always nice to her, making sure she was included in the conversation and asking how her classes were going.
She shook her head. "Well, I'm with Mike so…"
Angela made a face. "Oh, you're still together?" She shrugged, her dangly plastic earrings swaying with the movement. "That's too bad, you'd make a cute couple, and just in time for the Spring Formal."
The conversation quickly pivoted to the latest episode of Dynasty and El surreptitiously glanced over to where the boys were gathered in the arcade section, shouting and shoving each other as Marcus and Jake faced off in the basketball shooting game.
Marcus liked her? It seemed impossible. She was so plain and boring and he was so outgoing and popular… and attractive. Not that it mattered. She had Mike. She was happy with Mike.
Wasn't she?
Later that week, El was in the library after school working on her history project on heroes. Joyce's work phone calls were distracting so she preferred to stay behind and take advantage of the quiet of the deserted school.
Someone pulled out the chair next to her, and she looked up in surprise to see Angela dropping into it, tossing her designer bag onto the table. "Hey bitch."
Bitch, like slut, was apparently a term of endearment when used between friends, but not to describe overbearing mothers or teachers, El had learned.
She gave her a tentative smile. It was rare that it was just her and Angela alone, and it made her nervous being under her judgemental gaze. "What are you doing here?"
"Ugh, I had detention," Angela rolled her eyes. "Ms. Gracey is like, obsessed with me. She's a total lez. How about you?"
El was pretty sure Ms. Gracey was married with two kids but she didn't say anything about that. "I'm working on the history project."
"Who are you doing it on?"
"My dad."
Angela winced and gave her a pitying look. "Oh, sweetie, I think we're supposed to do it on someone historically significant. I'm doing mine on Helen Keller."
"Oh…" El mumbled, feeling stupid. At least she found out now and not while she was giving her presentation to the whole class. Angela must think she was a total idiot. "I guess I'll have to start over."
"Can I see what you wrote?" she asked, snatching the notebook out of El's hands.
El cringed, embarrassed by her blocky handwriting that was so unlike Angela's perfect, loopy, glitter gel pen script. She bit the inside of her cheek while Angela scanned the page, reading the highly personal words she had written about Hopper and their life together. After a minute she put it down and looked over at El.
She braced herself for an insult, but instead, Angela gave her an oddly gentle smile. "It sounds like he was a good guy."
El tried to swallow down the lump that always formed in her throat at the thought of him. "He was the best."
"How did he die?"
"There was a fire at the mall," she said, the practiced half-lie rolling easily off of her tongue. "He died saving people."
"Shit…" Angela said, clearly surprised. "I'm sorry. That's like, totally tragic."
El nodded and looked down at the table in an attempt to hide the tears forming in her eyes. "Thanks."
They were silent for a few moments, and then Angela took a breath. "My dad's not around either. But he wasn't a good guy."
El lifted her gaze. "He died too?"
"No," Angela replied, fidgeting with the beaded keychain on her bag. "He left us. He has a shiny new family in Laguna Beach now. It really fucked my mom up for a long time."
"You don't see him anymore?"
She shook her head. "He used to fly me and my little sister out once a year but since the new baby came he just sends money instead. I don't think my sister even remembers what he looks like anymore. I guess we were just very fucking… replaceable," she said bitterly, her voice cracking at the end.
El's heart twinged on the other girl's behalf. She couldn't imagine what that must feel like to be unwanted by a parent. Hopper would move mountains to be with her if he could. And what little she'd seen in her mother's broken mind had been all about her, too.
She didn't know what to say so she just reached out cautiously and patted Angela's hand where it was resting on top of the table. She flashed El a watery smile and interlaced their fingers, giving her a grateful squeeze.
El was surprised to see this side of her. She was always so composed, so intimidating. She also got the feeling that Angela never talked about any of this with the other girls.
After a few seconds, Angela pulled her hand back and reached into her purse.
"Ugh, enough of this emotional bullshit," she said, pulling out her compact and checking her eye makeup briefly before snapping it shut. "Come on, let's go get our nails done. My treat."
An early Valentine from Mike arrived in the mail. Her heart did a flip as she took in the smiling peanut on the front with "I'm nuts about you!" printed beneath it.
She opened the card and read Mike's message. "El, Happy Valentine's Day. I can't wait to see you. From, Mike"
El's stomach dropped in disappointment along with her smile. From Mike. From From From. It taunted her, written there in bold, black marker. She closed the card and numbly tossed it onto her desk.
Shouldn't he know by now if he loved her or not? After everything they'd been through, shouldn't he be able to say it?
Angela and Jake said it to each other all the time, and so casually. Michelle and Tanner weren't as obvious about it, but the other day El had rounded a corner in the hallway and observed a sweet moment between the two of them, whispering it to each other in front of the biology classroom. Didn't El deserve someone who was certain of their feelings about her too?
The frustration ate at her for the rest of the week, keeping her up at night and clouding her mind during the day until she could no longer ignore the feeling of impending doom that had been building inside her.
One evening, Joyce knocked on the open door of her bedroom. El looked up from where she'd been reading a book for English class on her bed and nodded, allowing her in. She shut the door behind her and took a seat in the desk chair.
"How are you doing, El? she asked, her kind eyes wide with concern. "You've seemed… distracted lately."
"I–" El stopped and took a deep breath. She was about to make up an excuse and say she was fine, but something about the warmth in Joyce's voice and the way she was looking at her just made the truth spill out.
"I don't know if I want to be Mike's girlfriend anymore." A wave of nausea immediately washed over her as soon as the words left her mouth. Saying it out loud made it so much more real.
"Oh." Joyce's eyebrows raised in surprise, but after a few seconds, she nodded. "Well… that's okay."
"It is?"
"Of course it is," she insisted, dragging the chair closer to the bed and leaning her elbows on her knees. "No one expects you to stay in a relationship you don't want to be in."
El let out a shaky breath as she tugged at the blue bracelet around her wrist. "How do you know you're not making a mistake?"
Joyce shrugged and gave her a sad smile. "You don't, really."
El felt her lower lip quivering as her eyes filled with tears, and Joyce moved to sit on the bed next to her, taking her shaking hand in between both of her soft, warm ones.
"I know Mike is the first boy. And those first loves, they can feel like they'll be the only one you'll ever have. They feel like there will never be another one that's stronger.
"But you're so young, sweetie. If you don't end up with him, that's okay. God knows if I ended up with the first boy I ever dated I'd be making weekly visits to the federal penitentiary," she chuckled before tightening her grip on El's hand.
"There will probably be lots of crushes, lots of boys, maybe a few heartbreaks… and when you're my age, you'll look back on this and laugh and wonder why it ever felt like the world was ending."
El sniffled and wiped at the tears rolling down her cheeks with the heel of her free hand before looking at Joyce. "Promise?"
"Yes." She leaned the side of her head on top of El's. "Whatever you decide, whatever happens, I'm on your side no matter what, okay?"
After Joyce left, El got under the covers and stared up at the ceiling. She couldn't believe she was even considering this. Breaking up with Mike? It seemed crazy. He was the first person to ever make her feel safe; he was the first person who made her feel like she was important, as more than just a weapon or a scientific experiment.
But coming to California was supposed to be a fresh start. This was her chance to be Jane Hopper. Not a test subject, not Eleven the superhero, with the weird powers and the tragic backstory. Just Jane. And she didn't even know who Jane was; she was still figuring that out herself.
But she was learning, bit by bit. She had learned more about herself in the past two months than she had the whole year in Hawkins, where she was only exposed to the things Hopper and Mike liked.
And what she found was that she didn't like sci-fi movies like the boys did, or horror movies like Max—she liked romance and comedy. And she preferred Madonna and Whitney Houston to Rush or The Smiths; and she thought board games and video games were painfully boring.
When she first joined the real world, she hadn't even known who she was without Mike. Her brief stint with her wayward sister in Chicago hadn't revealed much except that she had a lot of anger inside her and she wasn't interested in a life of crime.
The only time she really felt like she had explored who she was, was last summer when she and Mike had been broken up for a few days. That time spent with Max was when she had been able to uncover a whole different side of herself.
The more El thought about it, the more she realized that so much of their relationship had been him talking and her listening, starry-eyed over this cute, funny boy who thought she was Wonder Woman come to life, and that was… not what a good relationship should be.
And what would happen when they graduated? Would she just be expected to follow him wherever he went to college? Maybe she would have her own dreams and aspirations that were different from his, maybe she wouldn't even go to college. What then?
She sighed and rolled over. The connection between them that once felt so strong and unbreakable was more like a fragile thread.
Her gaze fell on the copy of Little Women on her nightstand that she'd been reading earlier. Laurie had been so sure Jo was the one until he finally let her go. Maybe she needed to do the same.
Clutching her teddy bear tightly to her chest, she squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. What was she going to do? Surely it would be worse for Mike to come all the way here for spring break. Then she would have to pretend she was happy all week, and she was a terrible liar. No, it was best to end it sooner rather than later, even if that did mean doing it over the phone.
The next day, when El and Will got home from school, she peeked her head into the kitchen where Joyce was in between phone calls.
"Joyce? Is it okay if I call him…?" she asked, not needing to specify who she was talking about.
"Of course," Joyce replied, giving her a sad smile. "You can use the phone in my room, it's a separate line. Take your time, don't worry about the length of the call."
El nodded, fidgeting with her hands. "And… can you tell Will? After I do it."
"Yeah, I can do that."
El sat on the bed, staring at the buttons on the phone as the dial tone droned from the handset. She'd never been more nervous in her life. This was worse than facing down the Demogorgon and the Mind Flayer combined. She was going to hurt him so badly.
She hugged one of Joyce's throw pillows to her chest, angry with herself. She had looked evil in the face numerous times but now she couldn't handle breaking up with a boy? Pathetic. She just had to… what was the phrase? Take the bandaid off?
Drawing in a deep breath, she dialled the number she knew by heart, her mouth going dry as the line started ringing.
"Wheeler residence." It was Mike's mom.
"Um, hi, it's El. Is Mike there, please?"
"Just one second." There was a shuffling sound, and El squeezed the pillow tighter.
"Hi El, I wasn't expecting to hear from you. Is this about spring break?" Mike sounded slightly out of breath like he'd just run up the stairs from the basement. She could hear the smile in his voice and her heart sank like a stone.
"Kind of…"
"What is it? Can Jonathan not pick us up from the airport anymore? Because Nancy and I can take a taxi or–"
"No, it's not that." She swallowed hard. "Mike… I— I don't know if you should come."
"What?" he laughed, as if she had misspoken or he had heard her wrong.
She could still back out of this. She could play it off and say she was just attempting a joke and then pretend she needed his flight details again or something.
"I think we should break up," she blurted out instead. She was a terrible person. She was the worst person in the world.
"…what?" Mike repeated. There was no trace of humour in his tone now.
El squeezed her eyes shut tightly, letting the tears that had been welling up fall freely. "I've been thinking a lot and… this long-distance thing has been really um, hard and um, I think we both deserve to be with someone who's there all the time. Our lives are so separate now and I've been making new friends–"
"'New friends?' Have you met someone else? Is that what this is about?"
"No, Mike," she answered. "It is about the fact that I'm only fifteen and I am still trying to figure out who I am. I didn't know anything about myself when we met, I was barely even a real person until two years ago! I love you but I just– I need room to grow without being… tied down."
"Well, what if we– what if we just took a temporary break?" he asked, voice cracking with desperation. "And then I can visit in the summer and we can see–"
She laughed sadly, wiping at the tears that kept rolling down her cheeks. "I don't think that would work, Mike."
She waited for him to say something, but all she heard was sniffling on the other side. Her chest ached from her heart hammering against the inside of it. There wasn't anything he could say, really; she had made up her mind about this.
"I'm sorry," she whispered after a minute of silence. "Goodbye, Mike."
Hours later, El was burrowed under her covers, soaking her pillowcase with tears. She hadn't stopped crying since she'd hung up the phone. It felt like she never would. Joyce had peeked her head in earlier and let her know she could skip dinner if she wanted. El was grateful because she had no appetite at all and there was no way she could keep it together in front of boys.
She heard footsteps coming down the hall and then her door slammed open, and she rolled over to see Will storming into her room, looking furious.
"You broke up with Mike?!" he exclaimed, coming to a stop in front of her. "What the fuck is wrong with you? How could you do that to him? Now he's not going to come for spring break!"
"I– I'm sorry," El mumbled, sitting up and swiping at her tear-stained face. She knew Will wasn't going to take it well.
"What am I supposed to do with my painting?"
She furrowed her brow. "What?"
"My painting that I've spent hours on? I was going to give it to him."
That was what he was concerned about? "I don't know, maybe you can mail it?"
"It'll get creased!"
El frowned at him as he paced back and forth. She couldn't believe he cared so much about a dumb painting when her heart was in pieces.
"No offence, Will," she said, using a phrase she'd picked up from Angela, "but I really do not care right now."
Will froze with his mouth open. "You're such a phoney, El! You let those popular assholes convince you to do this, didn't you? You know they don't even like you, right? They think of you as like, a pet or something."
She crossed her arms and glared at him. "Get out of my room, Will." He scoffed and gave her one last look of disgust before stomping out of the room, shutting the door loudly behind him.
El let out the sob she'd been holding in and collapsed back into her pillow. She knew ending it had been the right thing to do, but right now it hurt so much she could barely breathe.
The next day at school, she told the girls about her breakup. They enveloped her in a group hug and Angela declared the need for an emergency sleepover at her house with movies and personal pints of ice cream.
They ended the night by prank-calling some of the boys, shrieking and rolling around in laughter as they threw the phone onto the carpet, and El smiled for the first time in days.
It got a little better, day by day. She didn't miss him any more or less than she did before, since their contact had already been practically nonexistent. But the pain in her heart lessened, and she kept herself busy with schoolwork and spending time with her friends.
She even joined the Spring Formal planning committee with Michelle, spending hours after school making hundreds of tissue paper flowers and painting signs.
Halfway through March, Marcus showed up at her locker with a bouquet of tulips and asked her to the dance. And she said yes.
El's stomach was in knots as she held her arm out while Joyce covered her tattoo with skin-coloured makeup before the dance. It was her first ever date with someone who wasn't Mike, with someone who thought she was just a regular girl and didn't know anything about her past.
The girls all met up at Angela's house to get ready. She loaned El a strapless pink dress with sequin flowers on the bodice and a flared knee-length skirt, and Stacy did her hair and makeup while they listened to music and read their horoscopes from magazines. El didn't know when her real birthday was, but the horoscope for the made-up date on all her documents told her that this week would provide a great sense of clarity regarding her relationships.
"God, I am so talented," Stacy said as she spun El around so she could look at herself in Angela's vanity.
El had to agree. She grinned at her reflection in the mirror, thinking that she had never felt prettier in her whole life.
The doorbell rang and Angela jumped to her feet. "The boys are here!"
El's palms started sweating as they gathered their things and left the room, her previous confidence quickly vanishing.
Marcus flashed her that beaming smile as she came down the curved staircase, and some of the nervousness faded away. He was wearing a white suit with a pink tie that matched her dress, his curly hair freshly cut.
"Hi, Jane," he said as she came to stand in front of him. "You look beautiful."
"Thank you," she mumbled, fidgeting with the curled ends of her hair. "You do too– I mean, you look nice."
The group posed for pictures for Angela's mom—whom El had noticed always seemed to have a full glass of wine in her hand—before heading outside to the limo Jake's dad had paid for. She felt like she was in a movie as they all piled in, laughing and singing along to the music on the radio.
Jake pulled a silver flask from the inside of his suit jacket, taking a long sip before passing it around. Everyone drank from it and immediately made a face as if it was painful to consume, except for Marcus who shook his head when Tanner tried to hand it to him. He shrugged and held it out to El, who took it after a second of hesitation.
Cautiously, she held it up to her nose and inhaled deeply, wincing as it burned her nostrils.
"You don't have to if you don't want to," Marcus said quietly.
El licked her lips and took a breath. She had never been one to give in to fear, so she pressed the flask to her lips, tilted her head back, and swallowed a sizeable gulp. Her face contorted as the alcohol hit her like a wave of fire. She coughed and sputtered, wishing she had a glass of water to wash out the taste.
She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her eyes watering from holding back the urge to gag.
"Why does anyone drink that?" she choked out as she passed the flask to Michelle.
Marcus chuckled next to her. "Beats me."
The school gym looked even better than it had when they'd set it up that afternoon; the dim, swirling lights made it look like some kind of floral wonderland.
El smiled as she spun around in a circle with Michelle to the upbeat song that was playing. They had been at the dance for about an hour, but so far it had just been the girls dancing together while the boys sat around one of the tables and sipped punch while throwing napkin balls at each other.
Then "True Colors" started playing and she gasped. "I love this song!"
"Well good thing, because it looks like someone wants a slow dance," Michelle grinned as she spun El around to reveal Marcus approaching them with a shy smile on his face.
He held his hand out in a silent question and she took it, letting him lead her to the middle of the dance floor.
They began to sway back and forth, his hands on her waist and her arms reaching up around his neck. He was so tall and broad, and he smelled nice, like some kind of cologne that wasn't too overpowering, unlike some of the other boys.
She couldn't help but think of the Snow Ball, how she and Mike had been dancing just like this before he kissed her for the second time. Her heart sped up as she forced herself to look into his eyes instead of at his chest, her stomach flipping nervously just like it had back then.
They smiled at each other, and then his gaze dropped down to her lips. El knew what that meant. She licked them subconsciously and then Marcus was leaning in and she was tipping her head back and their lips were pressing together. It was the lightest of touches, and his lips were full and soft and it felt… wrong.
It didn't feel at all like when Mike kissed her at the Snow Ball. She jerked her head back, looking away from Marcus's confused face.
"I'm sorry," she said as she took a step back. "I– I have to go to the restroom." She turned and dashed towards the doors of the gym, practically breaking into a run when she saw the restroom at the end of the hall.
A few girls were hanging around and gossiping as they fixed their hair and makeup, while another girl sobbed in the arms of her friend and another patted her back and murmured words of reassurance.
El went directly to one of the sinks and washed her mouth out with tap water, spitting it down the drain. She took deep breaths through her nose, hoping she wouldn't have to run to the toilet to vomit.
Slowly, she lifted her head and looked at herself, her heavily made-up eyes wide and panicked, pink lipstick smudged. What had she done? It hadn't been a bad kiss, but there had been no tingling on her lips or butterflies in her stomach and… and it felt like cheating on Mike.
Clearly, she had made a terrible mistake in breaking up with him, and this was the universe's way of telling her. Clarity regarding relationships, her stupid horoscope had said. Well, message received. She left the bathroom and went to find a payphone to call Joyce, tears prickling at the backs of her eyes.
Nancy arrived the next day. El thought maybe she would have a message from Mike or that she would mention that he missed her, but she didn't say anything about him at all.
Seeing her and Jonathan together all week was torture. They were so happy and so visibly in love. It reminded El of how comfortable she had always been with Mike, how natural it had felt to hold his hand or kiss his cheek. And now she might never have that again.
On Nancy's last day, El marched to her room and pulled out her stationary set. She needed to fix this. Taking care to make her writing as neat as possible, she put pen to paper.
Dear Mike,
I know you probably don't want to hear from me. You probably hate me, and I don't blame you. I think I made a big mistake when I broke up with you. I was confused, and I thought it was what I wanted, but I miss you. Please call me so we can talk about us. I'll be waiting.
Love, El.
So, she waited. The days passed. And then weeks. Her friends asked what had gone wrong with Marcus and she just shrugged and said it was too soon for her to be dating someone new. Marcus still smiled at her whenever she saw him, but it was a little less bright than it had been before.
Then before she knew it, it was the start of May and Mike still hadn't called. She began to wonder if Nancy hadn't given him the letter, or if maybe she had lost it.
Well, El had officially had enough of waiting. It was a Saturday afternoon, so he would most likely be home. She grabbed the phone and dialled the number that was still seared into her memory.
It was time to get her boyfriend back.
She was sitting on her bed when Will knocked and peeked his head in, staring blankly at the opposite wall with her knees tucked up.
The phone call hadn't gone at all the way El had expected. Mike wasn't waiting for her. He wasn't heartbroken. In fact, he had moved on with someone else. It didn't make any sense, it had only been a couple of months… She'd thought he would still be devastated and jump at the chance to get back together.
"Are you okay…?" Will asked, head tilted to the side in concern.
"I called Mike."
"Oh shit," he sighed and sat at the foot of the bed. "He told you about Max, huh? It's insane, right? I never would've–"
"What did you just say?" El asked, certain she had heard him wrong.
His eyes widened in fear. "Umm… nothing?"
Blood started whooshing in her ears as her heart leapt into her throat. She sat up straight and stared hard at Will. "What about Max?"
He sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck. "They're like, together now."
A laugh escaped her. That couldn't be right. There was no way. But Will just kept looking at her warily like she was a bomb that was about to explode. "Max is the girl? Max Mayfield?!"
Will looked down and nodded. "Yeah."
El felt like she was going to be sick. Her thoughts were reeling. Max? Her first real girl friend? She had confided in her. They had giggled about boys together. Had it all been a lie to get closer to Mike?
She was the one who had encouraged El to dump him over the summer. Had she just been pretending to hate him the whole time? What kind of evil game was that?
Her breaths were shallow and rapid as she replayed the past year in her mind. After Starcourt she and Max hadn't seen much of each other. They had both been grieving separately, and El had been busy with moving in with the Byers and spending time with Mike. Max had slowly started pulling away from the group as a whole, making excuses to not show up to hangouts. Then she broke up with Lucas in November. Had she just been waiting for El to move away so she could swoop in and steal Mike?
Then El's memories reached back even farther, to that moment she had observed back when she'd still been in hiding, when Max had been skateboarding around him in the school gym, making him laugh. Maybe El had been right about that the whole time after all. Her shock quickly transformed into hot, boiling rage.
Her eyes locked on Will. "And you knew about this?" she seethed.
He got to his feet and held his hands up in surrender. "Nancy told Jonathan two weeks ago over the phone, I'm sorry! I didn't want to upset you…"
El stood abruptly. She felt like she could flip a semi-truck if she still had her powers.
She shoved past Will and threw open Jonathan's door without knocking. "Jonathan!"
He jumped up from where he'd been leaning on the ledge of his open window, smoking one of those weird-smelling cigarettes she wasn't supposed to mention to Joyce.
He relaxed when he realized it was just El and not his mom. "Woah, uh, what's up?"
"Tell me exactly what Nancy said to you about Mike and Max."
"Oh shit. Um, okay lemme think…" he took a drag of the cigarette and blew the smoke through the window screen. "Well, she said they've been spending all their free time together… and that they went on a secret road trip to Indianapolis and Max kissed him after, but Lucas saw and it caused a huge fight."
Lucas. El hadn't even thought of him. She couldn't believe they would do this to him, and behind his back.
"Oh, and Nancy said– uh, never mind…" Jonathan shook his head and looked away.
El narrowed her eyes. "What?"
He winced and let out a long sigh. "She said that Mike really likes her, and he wants to make it work with her."
"Oh." A fresh wave of disbelief and betrayal washed over El, her vision blurring with tears. "Well I guess they did make it work," she choked out. "Because he doesn't want me anymore."
"I'm sorry, dude," Jonathan said sympathetically, holding up the smouldering cigarette. "You want some of this?"
"Jonathan!" Will exclaimed from where he had been leaning against the doorframe.
"You can have some too, Will. Relax."
El clenched her fists tightly, suddenly feeling like there wasn't enough air in the room. She turned and dashed out of the bedroom, and then kept going down the stairs and out the front door. She ran to the end of the pathway, stopping on the sidewalk and breathing hard.
She looked frantically back and forth, but all of her pent-up energy evaporated when she realized she had nowhere to go.
Shoulders slumped in defeat, she dragged her feet back to the house, taking a seat on the front steps and burying her face into her knees. How could this be happening? It just didn't make any sense. They were soulmates… weren't they?
After a while, she heard the screen door open and someone sat down next to her.
"If it's any consolation, I don't think there's any way they last more than a month, right?" Will said after a few seconds. "I mean, they can't be in the same room for more than a few minutes without annoying the hell out of each other."
"I guess…" El mumbled into her lap.
"Why did you call him, anyway?"
She took a shaky breath and turned to look at him, her cheek resting on top of her bent knees. "I thought I was okay after the breakup, but then Marcus kissed me at the dance and it didn't feel right, so I thought I made a mistake.
"I wrote him a letter asking for a second chance and gave it to Nancy. Then I didn't hear from him so I called. He didn't even read it. And now it is too late."
"Well… just because it didn't immediately work out with the second guy you ever kissed doesn't mean it won't work with someone else," Will said gently. "And it doesn't mean you need to go back to Mike either if that wasn't making you happy… Was it making you happy?"
She bit her lip and glanced down. "Not towards the end, no."
He looked out at the street and slowly shook his head. "El, you're a fucking… force of nature. And maybe you two will get back together someday or maybe you won't. But trust me, you'll get over Mike Wheeler."
His words made sense. Her emotions were still swirling inside her like a tropical storm, but she knew Will was right. She shouldn't run back to Mike just because it was comfortable and familiar. But the fact that he was with Max now hurt, and it probably would for a long time.
Max, who was bold and funny and assertive and everything El was not. She kept picturing him with her every time she closed her eyes. They looked good together.
"Thanks," she sniffled. Then she lifted her head and looked him in the eye. "So will you."
Will's eyes widened in panic. "What–"
"It's okay." She gave him a meaningful look, one she hoped conveyed that she knew about the truth he'd been hiding—the one he probably hadn't even admitted to himself—and that she didn't think any less of him for it.
He gave her a watery smile and swallowed hard, looking back out at the quiet street. El sighed and let her head fall back, taking in the cloudless, blue California sky. She would be okay.
Then she felt a familiar tingling at the base of her skull. One she hadn't felt in almost a year. Frowning, she looked down at the ground, her gaze landing on a pebble on the walkway in front of her. The tingling spread down her spine and out through her limbs. She concentrated hard, staring at it with narrowed eyes. After a few seconds, she thought it was just a false alarm until–
Will gasped as the pebble arced through the air and landed in the middle of the empty road. He turned to look at her in awe.
El wiped the blood from her nose and smiled.
A/N: If you need a reminder of the phone call that wasn't shown, it's in Chapter 14 of my previous work!