LXXI

As soon as they cross the threshold of the mansion, Hopper greets them with a frown. "Pretty sure I'd be failing as an agent of order if I didn't tell you leaving your home with two strangers is not the wisest course of action."

Henry adopts a puzzled expression that Eleven finds clearly rehearsed. "Two strangers? But Maxine is Jane's best friend, and you are, as you yourself said, an agent of order, aren't you, officer?"

"Hm, alright," Hopper grunts, not entirely convinced. However, there are more important matters to deal with. "Now, about Max… We had a… revealing conversation. I'd like her to stay with you for a couple more days."

"No problem on our end," Henry assures him. "Nevertheless, wouldn't that lead to problems with the law? Considering she's still a minor…"

The sheriff looks at him as if he were speaking to him in a strange, incomprehensible language. "Boy," he snaps at him as he puts his brown hat back on, "in this town, I am the law."

Henry simply puts one hand over the other and nods in a deliberately harmless posture.

"I understand. I guess you will let us know of any changes concerning this situation?"

"You guess right," Hopper huffs. Good night," he says as he heads towards his truck.

…

Henry turns to Eleven as soon as the door closes. Silently, he points to the living room with a nod.

She responds in kind and goes to her friend.

"I told him the truth," Max confesses as they drink cups of hot chocolate (courtesy of Henry), sitting in front of the fireplace. "Not about you, obviously. But about what happened."

Eleven lets her talk.

"I don't know what Hopper is planning," she sighs, "but, to be honest… I'm tired of all this."

"You'd like to... talk about something else?" Eleven offers, more than familiar with awkward conversations (or at least how to avoid them).

"Please," her friend pleads with a sigh.

While she thinks of some new topic of conversation, a mischievous smile appears on her friend's face. "We could talk… about Mike. How about that?"

Instantly, Eleven feels her cheeks burn.

"M-Mike?"

"Yeah, M-Mike," Max teases. "I saw you two, you know? At the ball."

"I saw you too," Eleven retorts. "With Lucas."

Max shrugs. "Yeah, he is my boyfriend since that night. Is Mike your boyfriend?"

The suggestive way the girl moves her eyebrows makes Eleven laugh; she presses her palm to her mouth to force herself to shut up, without much success.

"Max!" she protests when her laughter finally allows her to. "No, we…" Then it dawns on her that she hasn't spoken to him since that night. "We… we didn't talk about it."

"You didn't?" This time, the girl frowns. "But I thought—"

"I haven't seen him since," Eleven admits. "And… well, I didn't know… what to think… And then you came and—"

Max raises both hands as she dramatically backs away from Eleven.

"Ah, no, don't look at me: the fact that you haven't spoken has nothing to do with me. How many days has it been after the dance? Three, four? And I've been here since yesterday. Oh, no, this isn't my fault."

"I didn't mean that," Eleven mutters. "It's just… I don't know. I didn't think too much about it."

"Uhm. My life is a mess right now, but you know? That night… and the days after… Well, I couldn't stop thinking about Lucas." The admission takes place quietly. Eleven assumes that Max's apathetic teen facade cannot be compromised.

"I… I think it was pretty. This thing with Mike."

Max tilts her head and her pale blue eyes lock on hers. "There's something I want to tell you," she murmurs. "But I'm afraid to do it… with a mind reader so close, if you know what I mean."

"Henry?"

Max's smile is sardonic. "How many mind readers do you know, El?"

A lot, she would like to tell her. But no, not really, because they're all dead.

Because of Henry, certainly.

"Ah." It's the most honest thing she can think of. And then: "I made him promise that he wouldn't read your mind… He just did… as a precaution. But he won't anymore."

Max considers her words for a moment. When she finally does speak, she does so slowly, choosing her words carefully: "I don't want to offend you. Nor him. And I think if I had that ability, I would use it all the time, too. But… even though you trust him, I don't know him. And, well, what I want to say to you… Let's just agree that, just as he wants to protect you, I also want the same."

"To protect me?" Eleven asks, confused.

Max shrugs. "I won't say anything else for now. And besides, I think it will soon be time to sleep. So… I'll tell you another day."

…

The truth, however, is that Max's words will be buried, hidden in the back of her mind for a long, long time.

And Max? Max won't mention it again for at least two years.