XLIV

Although Mike remains somewhat quiet—for obvious reasons—during the rest of the night, Eleven actually has fun. Lucas, Max, and Dustin talk enough to fill the silence created by Mike, Will, and even herself.

And, if she's being honest with herself, Eleven finds it nice to be part of the fun without being at the center of it.

Seeing Max—whom she genuinely likes—laughing and having a good time makes her happy. Eleven isn't very used to this feeling, but she assumes it's the same reason she's gone out of her way to give Henry a Christmas present before: because she likes to see those she cares about happy.

And she's not afraid to admit it: alongside Henry's—and now Max's—happiness she's able to find her own.

When she arrives at her house, Henry is sitting in the living room watching television.

"Boo!" Eleven greets him, extending her arms in an exaggerated gesture.

"Oh, back already, Casper?" Henry lowers the volume before turning to her; it's not like he's really interested in a stupid horror movie, especially when Eleven is next to him. "How was it?"

The girl takes off her disguise and goes to sit next to him on the sofa. Neither she nor he pays any attention to the terrifying monsters that appear on the screen.

"It was fine," she replies sincerely. "Max scared some classmates… and we ended up trick-or-treating with them."

"Is that so? What classmates?"

"Will Byers?" Of course, Joyce Byers' youngest son. Henry nods to indicate he recognizes the name. "He and his friends…"

"And you had fun?"

"Yes," she admits with a smile. "Lots."

"I'm glad to hear it. Can I see… the loot?" Henry whispers the last connivingly, as if they're accomplices in some crime (which they actually are, but oh, well). Eleven laughs and brings the pumpkin-shaped bucket of candy to him. "Oh, what great treasure you've got here… But we'll ration it, okay?"

Eleven shakes her head. "Henry," she informs him with a condescending smile, "I'm not eight anymore. Ah, I'm going to the bathroom for a bit… Want to… watch a movie later?"

However, Henry can't hear her: he remains in his place, frozen, the bucket of candy in his hands.

"I'm not eight anymore."

No. No, of course not, but…

But…

"Henry?" Eleven calls him. "Did you hear me?"

He jerks his head towards her. "Oh, yes, sorry: yes, of course, I'll wait for you here…"

Eleven smiles at him. Henry notes the dimples forming in her cheeks—dimples he has noticed before, obviously, but that now, he notices, frame a less childish face, much more…

Much more mature.

"Great!" And she runs off, obviously excited by the prospect of watching a movie together.

She's still a child, despite what Eleven may think. However, Henry's games or pranks don't impress her like they once did.

Henry smiles sadly. She's still a child, yes: relatively easy to keep happy and manipulate if things get out of hand.

But she won't be a child forever.