CXXIII

When Eleven comes out of the changing room and shows her the bubble dress she's wearing, Max wrinkles her nose in disgust.

"Too many dots: you look like a ladybug." And then, as if it were part of the same topic, she asks: "So, how are things between you and Henry?"

Eleven turns her back on her and hides behind the fitting room curtain again.

"As usual."

"That can't be true." And then: "Try on the yellow one."

She thinks about what a satisfactory answer might be while she undresses. "I'm… trying to deal with the situation. I'm trying not to think about it; I'm trying to keep my distance."

Max doesn't say a thing. As she buttons up the next attire—a black-and-yellow striped shirtdress—Eleven thinks she must be trying to be patient and respectful.

Once ready, she opens the curtain and shows it to her. Max crosses her arms. "Too yellow."

Eleven lets out a sigh.

At last, Max and Eleven leave the shopping center with shopping bags under their arms.

Punctual as always, Henry is already waiting for them outside, the car ready to go.

"Hello. Did you find what you were looking for?" he asks them with a cordial smile.

Max answers without hesitation: "Hello, Mr. Creel. Yeah, sure: El will be prettier than ever."

Henry seems speechless at such a statement.

Eleven casts an alarmed look at her friend, who does nothing but ignore her and move towards the back door of the car.

"Uhm, didn't we keep you waiting long?" Eleven asks Henry once she's already seated and fastening her seatbelt.

"No, I just got here," he answers, looking ahead and starting the car.

"What about you? Do you already have a suit, Mr. Creel?"

Eleven supposes it's an innocent topic of conversation.

"I do have a suit for occasions like this, yes."

"I guess it's only us girls who worry so much about our outfits, right?" Max comments more to herself than to them. "Lucas told me that neither he nor Dustin are going to buy new suits. Will may buy one, since it's his mom's wedding…"

"Is Dustin Henderson invited too?" Henry asks, searching her eyes in the rearview mirror.

"Dustin, Mike, Eddie, Eleven, Lucas, and me," her friend lists. "All of Will's friends are invited."

"Well, Mike Wheeler's presence is a fact." Eleven knows him so well that she notices the slight tension in his voice as he pronounces the words. "Because of Eleven, I mean."

Silence. Eleven barely turns her head, just enough to see Max out of the corner of her eye. Her friend throws her a meaningful look, which is why she gets inside her head to say:

He doesn't know.

Max takes a deep breath and settles into the back seat casually.

"Uhm, well, he's Will's best friend: it was a given he'd invite him."

"Indeed."

The conversation stops then, and Eleven has no choice but to inwardly pray that Henry hasn't noticed anything strange.

If Henry suspects something, he doesn't say it.

Indeed, Henry owns a perfectly acceptable suit for such occasions: what he wants to refresh is his shirt. Therefore, the next day he goes to the clothing store he usually frequents.

Fortunately, he finds what he's looking for in a matter of minutes: "I'll take this one, please."

"I'll prepare it for you right away, sir, thank you very much," the saleswoman tasked with helping him responds, her eyes lingering just a second longer than what was considered polite on his face.

He is about to head towards the register when he hears someone calling him: "MR. HENRY!"

He doesn't even get to turn around when he feels something—or rather, someone—colliding against his leg.

"Holly! I'm so sorry, Mr. Creel…"

When he turns around, he finds himself in front of Nancy Wheeler, who instantly greets him with an apologetic smile. At her side, Jonathan Byers offers him a nod—a gesture that Henry copies—and then goes back to browsing the suits arranged in the gentlemen's section.

"Nancy." As soon as he says her name, memories that are not his (but feel entirely too real) flood his mind; his muscles involuntarily tense. "I take it you're buying clothes for the wedding?"

"Holly, please let go of Mr. Creel…" Nancy murmurs in a firm voice. And then she looks up at Henry to answer: "Yeah, Jonathan needs a new coat. It's his mother's wedding: he must be well-dressed," she punctuates her words by raising her eyebrows.

"Mr. Henry, are you invited too?" Holly interrupts, finally releasing him. "Are you going to buy a suit?"

"Just a shirt," Henry explains with a smile, lowering himself to the girl's height. "What about you? Are you shopping with Nancy and Jonathan?"

"Only because mom and dad are busy." The girl sighs with an air way too exaggerated to be natural; she has obviously got it from her older siblings or from some adult. "I can't go to the wedding: Nancy says it's for adults only. But Mike is not an adult and he's going."

A giggle escapes Henry; he can't help it, since her logic is correct.

"But Mike is older," Nancy reminds her gently, placing her hands on her sister's shoulders. "When you are his age, you will also be able to go."

And Holly, without the slightest qualm, turns to look at Nancy's face as she asks: "So, will I be able to attend you and Jonathan's wedding?"

Henry covers his mouth and forces himself to hide his laughter behind a fake cough, while Jonathan puts his head closer to the suit he's examining as if he wants to hide inside.

Nancy, for her part, keeps her undaunted smile on her face. "Uhm. Well, we'll see… In the meantime, we'd better let Mr. Creel do his shopping in peace, okay?"

Holly nods, resigned. "Okay."

Henry straightens up and pats her on the head to comfort her.

"Holly, I need your advice," Jonathan calls her then. "Which of these jackets will suit me best?"

"I'M COMING!" Holly exclaims as she runs toward the young man, excited at the prospect of being asked for her expert opinion.

"I'm sorry." Nancy breathes a sigh of relief. "She has a lot of energy and is very difficult to control once something gets into her head."

Henry takes the opportunity to examine the young woman in front of him: physically, this Nancy looks the same as the one who shot him in the other Henry's memories.

Yet this Nancy is here, her younger sister noticeably fond of him. And she doesn't seem to disapprove of the notion—apart from, that is, fearing the little girl is bothering him with her antics.

And all of this, like so many other constants in his life, is the result of the decisions he and Eleven have made.

"No problem," he answers as he prepares to move towards the register. "See you at the wedding."

"See you!" Nancy repeats, saying goodbye with a wave of her hand and a smile before returning to her boyfriend and her sister.