The first few weeks in Lenora Hills passed by in a blur. Mike went to his classes. He went home. He did his homework. On weekends he biked to the arcade in between bouts of staring at the ceiling and thinking about El.

He didn't really talk to anyone at school. A couple classmates had tried to be friendly and ask him about himself, but Mike shut them down. He didn't want new friends. He already had friends, back in Hawkins; the best friends anyone could ever ask for. He felt their absence like a hole in his chest, like every breath he took just went right back out of him.

Not to mention, the kids who did try to talk to him could safely be labelled as The Nerds. Mike wondered if he was vibrating on some sort of specific frequency that made them gravitate towards him, recognizing him as one of their own.

For a brief moment, he considered just giving in and joining the mathletes or the AV club, but then he realized he didn't really feel like putting a target on his back for the next three years. It wouldn't be the same without The Party anyway; mysterious loner was definitely the better option.

He'd never really been a loner before. Ever since kindergarten, he'd always had Will, and then Lucas and Dustin. Mike wasn't sure it suited him, but this was his life now.

It allowed him to observe the social hierarchy from afar. He quickly learned that Angela and her popular friends were the ones to avoid in his grade.

Every time he heard plastic bangles clacking in the hall he tensed up reflexively, preparing for a snide comment or maybe a shove from one of the football player boyfriends, but they always just looked right through him, proving his point that yeah, being invisible was way better than being bullied.

He wasn't sleeping well. Actually, he was sleeping like shit. It turned out 2300 miles wasn't far enough to outrun the nightmares—images of El being flung across the room by the Mindflayer, her body falling limply to the ground; the sound of Will screaming in pain as his mind was invaded. The terror and helplessness were etched into his brain, as vivid as the day it had happened.

Most nights Mike awoke drenched in a cold sweat, gasping for air as his heart nearly beat out of his chest. And every time he would reflexively reach for the walkie-talkie under his bed that was no longer there. The one he used to use to call El, or she would use to call him, and they'd talk in hushed voices until they fell back asleep, reassured by the knowledge that no matter what happened they had each other.

She was so far away from him now. Was she okay? Was she in danger? Was she still crying herself to sleep every night?

He'd felt so useless those last few weeks after Starcourt. It was as if he could physically feel her slipping through his fingers, and all he'd had to offer were platitudes and promises. Maybe he had been holding on too tight.

He'd been so sure she just needed some time and she would come back to him like always, but then his parents had gone and dropped a bomb on his whole life.

Now that lifeline of hope that Mike had been clinging to frayed a little more with each passing day.

One afternoon, at the start of October, Nancy had an after-school planning session for that month's issue of the school paper. Mike could have walked home or taken the bus, but he didn't have anything better to do, so he decided to do his homework in the library.

It took him about an hour to finish and, figuring Nancy would be done soon, he decided to track down the journalism room so they could leave faster.

He stopped off at his locker on the way, glancing up as a handful of students came out of a classroom down the hall, including the redhead from his homeroom. They didn't have any classes together except for that one, and she always sat at the very back and screwed around with her friend.

He knew her last name, only because of the number of times the homeroom teacher had to sternly call out "Miss Mayfield!" in order to get her to pay attention during the morning announcements.

They made eye contact before he could look away and she took it as an invitation to start walking towards him. Damn it.

She always looked at him like he was amusing to her—as if there was something funny about him that he was unaware of. It made him feel off-balance.

"Hey, new kid," she said as she came to a stop in front of him, crossing her arms across her chest. "You stalking me?"

Mike snorted. "If anything you're stalking me. I don't even know your name."

"It's Max," she said with a wry smile. "Short for Maxine, but nobody calls me that."

Max… It suited her.

"I'm uh, looking for the newspaper room," he volunteered for some reason. "My sister's there."

"Oh, it's up on the third floor. I'll show you."

Mike nodded gratefully and followed her back the way she came. There were three staircases in the school but only one went to the top floor, and he could never figure out which one it was.

He glanced into the classroom she'd come out of as they passed it by. "Are you in a club or something?"

"If detention is a club, then sure," Max chuckled.

Of course she had detention. "What did you do?"

She smirked. "You know those new disposable cameras everyone has?"

He nodded.

"They have these high-voltage capacitors in them, and if you take them out and touch both ends it shocks you a little. So Jonesy and I were just messing around in class zapping each other, and Ms Gracey comes over and holds her hand out for me to give it to her.

"And I was like, 'I don't think you want me to do that…' But she just looks at me and taps her foot. So I drop it in her hand and it shocks the shit out of her, obviously."

Mike laughed in disbelief, startling himself with the sound. It hit him that that was probably the first time he'd laughed or even smiled in weeks. Months, maybe. It felt strange, as if he could feel the disuse in his facial muscles.

"And all you got was a detention?" he asked after a second, realizing he'd just left her hanging.

Max shrugged, a grin spreading over her face. "It was kind of her fault! I tried to warn her." She nodded towards the right side of the hallway. "Hang on, I need to stop at my locker."

Crouching down, she spun her combination into the lock and yanked the door open. The inside of it was plastered with brand stickers, which was definitely against the rules, according to the student handbook Mike had read cover to cover last week out of sheer boredom.

She shouldered her backpack before pulling out a scuffed-up skateboard that looked like it had seen better days, tucking it under her arm as she stood. Mike raised his eyebrows. There had been a few skaters back in Hawkins, but he'd never seen a girl do it.

"You skateboard," he said dumbly.

"I do." She kicked her locker closed and glanced at him as she continued down the hall. "Since I was ten. Do you?"

"Um, no…" Shit, he was way off his small talk game. This was easily the longest conversation he'd had with anyone since moving, including his family.

"Well it's never too late to learn," she singsonged as they entered a stairwell.

He tried to think of something funny or interesting to say as they climbed the stairs and reached the third-floor hallway, but he was drawing a complete blank. What the hell was wrong with him? Say something, you jackass! She was probably starting to think he was slow or something.

"Okay, well… there's the journalism room." Max gestured towards the last door on the left. "See you around?"

Shooting him a wink, she dropped her board and skated back down the hall before his brain could even formulate a reply.

Mike watched her until she disappeared through the doors at the end. Damn. That girl made him way too tongue-tied for his own good. He shook his head as he headed for the journalism room. She was trouble for sure.

And he was not looking for trouble.

That weekend marked a month since Mike had left Hawkins. He decided to finally open Lucas and Dustin's letters, deliberately leaving Will's at the back of the desk drawer.

Mike felt a lump form in his throat as he read his friends' words. Lucas's was light-hearted, reminiscing on funny things that happened in their youth and joking about how he was happy to finally be the tallest one.

Dustin's letter talked about how epic this semester's Hellfire Club campaign was going to be, even though it wouldn't be the same without him there, but Mike could detect a forced enthusiasm just beneath the surface.

He was worried about Dustin. He knew he was blaming himself for Steve's death at Starcourt, for roping him into that whole mess again last fall, and then again this summer. Hopefully, Lucas's basketball didn't take up too much time so he could be there for their friend.

Mike wrote back to them, making no attempt to conceal how much he didn't want to be here. He asked for updates on basketball and how Dustin's turtle was doing and whether Eddie was still as crazy as he'd been last year… but what he really wanted to ask about was El.

He used to think he and Eleven were cosmically linked—that he could feel her through the void no matter how far apart they were, as long as they were thinking of each other.

Sure, she didn't have her powers anymore, but he'd always been sure it was more than that. It seemed he was wrong. Or maybe she just wasn't thinking about him at all.

Mike looked up as Nancy's muffled voice came through their shared wall. She was having her nightly phone call with Jonathan.

Their parents had flipped out when they'd found out how much long distance cost, so now she was only allowed an hour after eight pm when the rates were lower. She hadn't missed a single day so far.

Suddenly, Mike was overtaken by the demented urge to call El. What would he even say, though? Tell her that he missed her? Beg her to take him back? He'd already done that a hundred times after they broke up, so much so that Joyce had to gently ask him to stop calling and give her some space.

He just wanted to hear her voice so badly. But she didn't want to hear from him. Plus there was a chance that Will might answer and… Mike wasn't ready for that either.

Sighing, he lay down on his bed and crossed his arms over his face. How had everything gotten so fucked up?

The next day Mike awoke in a terrible mood. It was halfway through October and the temperature still reached the low eighties most days and the fucking leaves hadn't even started changing colour and the stores didn't sell his favourite brand of chips and he just fucking hated it here.

He stomped around the house all morning, answering his parents with grunts or one-word replies until eventually, his dad told him to quit moping around or get out of the house for the rest of the day.

Mike biked furiously to the arcade, taking his anger and frustration out on Dig Dug. He was trying to beat his own high score, which was still standing from when he'd first set it over a month ago.

"Shit!" he hissed under his breath as his character got crushed under a falling rock and GAME OVER flashed mockingly across the screen.

His score was only high enough for fifth, and he keyed in his tag with angry jabs of the buttons.

"You're WHEELS!" Mike jumped as Max popped up next to him from out of nowhere, a triumphant smile on her face. "I knew it!"

He clutched his hand to his chest, heart racing beneath his palm as he regarded her incredulously. "What the fuck?! Have you been spying on me?"

"No one has ever beaten my score before," she said, ignoring his question and pointing at the MADMAX tag in second place on the leaderboard.

"You are officially a stalker, you know that, right?"

For someone he had no classes with other than homeroom, he sure saw her around a lot. She was always with that boy who sat next to her in homeroom and a senior guy with the longest hair Mike had ever seen. He thought maybe she was dating one of them.

Oftentimes he saw them all hanging out on the quad before school and at lunch, shooting spitballs at the backs of football players in between practicing skateboard tricks.

Max dug a few quarters out of her pocket and shoved one into his palm before moving over to the Dragon's Lair game next to them. "One-on-one, let's go."

"What?" Mike blinked, thrown by her boldness. "No thanks, I should get home…" He placed the quarter on top of the machine.

She leaned against it and raised an eyebrow. "Why? You chicken?"

"No." He turned to leave but she scurried in front of him, blocking his path. What's this girl's problem? He was not in the mood for this today.

"Scared you'll lose to a girl?"

"I wouldn't lose," he scoffed.

Max crossed her arms. "Prove it, then."

He beat her at Gauntlet. She beat him at Donkey Kong. He won Fantasy Zone, while she destroyed him at Halley's Comet. They went back and forth all afternoon trading victories, trash-talking the entire time.

Despite the fact that Max was way too mouthy and kind of a pain in the ass, it was… actually pretty fun. Probably the most fun Mike had had in a long time.

They were right in the middle of a best-of-five tiebreaker on Galaga when all the games abruptly powered down and the acne-faced teenage employee informed them it was closing time.

Mike looked around in surprise at the emptying roller rink. He hadn't even realized that they'd been going at it for hours.

"This is bullshit, I was so winning that one!" Max exclaimed as they made their way towards the exit.

"Yeah right," Mike snorted. "I still had two lives left, I freaking had you."

"No way. You're way too slow at shooting down the boss, you can't win without the dual fighter."

He rolled his eyes and glanced over at her. She had a really nice smile. Not that smug little smirky thing she was always giving him, but her real smile that showed off her teeth.

"Well, we'll just have to have a rematch," she continued, thankfully oblivious to his staring. "I refuse to be beaten by someone from Indiana."

The derision in her voice was clear and Mike scoffed, suddenly feeling defensive of his home state. "Ever heard of Larry Bird?"

"Um, ever heard of Magic Johnson?"

"Isn't he from Michigan?"

"Is he?" Max chuckled. "I don't follow fucking basketba– shit." The smile disappeared from her face in an instant and he followed her gaze through the glass doors to a blue Camaro idling in the parking lot.

"I um, I gotta go," she said, suddenly flustered. "You stay here until I'm gone, okay? Don't follow me out."

"What? Why?" Mike reached for the door handle but Max placed her hand on his forearm, squeezing lightly.

"Just– wait until I leave. Please?" Her expression was more serious than he'd ever seen before, so he nodded after a second, reluctantly stepping back from the door. Her eyes softened with relief as she yanked it open. "Bye, Wheels."

He watched her run up to the car where an older, curly-haired boy scowled at her through the rolled-down window. She got into the passenger seat and it looked like they argued for a minute before peeling out, tires screeching and rock music blasting.

Mike's frown deepened. An angry, older boyfriend? That didn't seem right. She didn't seem like the type to put up with bullshit like that voluntarily…

And then he wondered why he was so bothered by it. What business was it of his who she was dating, and whether he was a jerk or not?

Christ. Mike needed to put some distance between them. Whatever situation she was in seemed messy.

And he wasn't looking to get close to anyone anyway, no matter how much her startlingly blue eyes sparkled when she laughed.

Near the end of the month, he turned sixteen. His mother asked if he wanted to do anything special, but Mike preferred to ignore the day altogether. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing worth celebrating.

The only thing he really wanted to do was get his driver's license so he didn't have to bike or rely on Nancy for rides all the time. Maybe over winter break he could even drive himself to Hawkins if his parents refused to pay for a flight.

Since he never had any plans he'd had a lot of practice with his mom after school and his dad on weekends, even Nancy between her studying and extracurriculars, and he passed his test with ease. His mom insisted they get pizza to celebrate, brandishing a coupon that had just come in the mail that week.

Even though he was making more money than ever, his dad was still too cheap to pay for delivery, so Mike found himself driving alone for the very first time on a Sunday evening through dusty streets that still felt as foreign to him as the day he'd arrived.

Mike peered up at the glowing red sign as he crossed the parking lot. Surfer Boy Pizza. What a stupid name. They weren't even near the fucking beach.

The door dinged when he opened it, but it was barely audible above the rock music blasting inside. His eyes were immediately assaulted by an overwhelming amount of red and yellow, from the checkered tables to the neon signs on the walls to the large menu board in front of him.

At first, it didn't seem like there was anyone working there, but as he approached the counter he saw there was a girl behind it. She was facing away, kneeling on the floor with her head stuck into the cabinets along the wall, trying to reach something all the way in the back.

Mike tilted his head. There was a bell on the countertop, but instead of ringing it right away, he took a few seconds to stare at her denim-clad ass. He knew he shouldn't, but it was right there… and it was a really nice ass.

Eventually, he started to feel like a perv so he reached out and slapped the top of the bell, startling the girl. She extricated herself from the cabinets and turned around, revealing a long, red ponytail and a face full of freckles. Max ?!

Mike's eyes widened as his stomach did a strange swoop. What the fuck, why was this chick everywhere?

She was wearing a bright yellow shirt with the restaurant's logo on it, but the bottom half had clearly been hacked off with scissors. Surely that wasn't regulation, he thought as he watched her set a stack of napkin refills on the counter, his eyes inadvertently transfixed to the pale strip of midriff above her jeans.

Realizing he was staring, he quickly lifted his gaze, pausing on the name tag that said "Greg" before meeting her eyes, which flashed with recognition.

Grinning, she cocked her head to the side. "New Kid."

"Stalker," he shot back unthinkingly.

She pressed her tongue to the back of her bottom teeth and scoffed. "Bold of you to call me that when you're showing up at my place of work."

He raised his hands in surrender. "I'm just here to pick up my parents' order."

"Mm, okay…" She turned to the window that looked into the kitchen. "Yo Argyle! Pick up order!"

Argyle? Mike frowned. Was that actually someone's name? He heard a dry, hacking cough and then the wooden doors swung open.

The long-haired older boy who he recognized from school emerged, carrying two pizza boxes and absolutely reeking of weed.

"Here you go, dude, one salami-garlic-black olive and one sausage-green pepper-tomato." He set the boxes on the counter with a flourish before disappearing back into the kitchen.

"Interesting choices," Max said, raising a brow.

Mike rolled his eyes as he reached into his back pocket for his wallet. "Judging my pizza order?"

She shrugged and looked him up and down. "You can tell a lot about a person."

"Oh, I also have a coupon," he said, sliding it across the counter along with the cash.

"Ooh, frugal."

He looked at her flatly. The constant quippiness was borderline annoying. "Are you gonna comment on everything I do?"

"Perk of the job," Max grinned. Mike shook his head, suppressing a smile as he pocketed his change and grabbed the pizza boxes.

"Later, New Kid," she called out as he opened the door with his foot.

"Later, Greg," he replied, hearing her laugh as it swung shut behind him.

And as he walked to the car Mike told himself that that was definitely not flirting. She was probably just like that with everyone.

A girl like her was out of his league anyway. El had been the first and only girl to ever give him the time of day, but their relationship had always been so much deeper than just simple physical attraction.

Not that it even mattered. Max had a boyfriend. A scary one. And more importantly, Mike wasn't dating.

God, he hoped there was another pizza place in this town.

A/N: I realized after editing that this was just a bunch of instances of Mike hanging out with Max and deciding he can't be around her because she makes him feel funny things lol.

The boy doesn't stand a chance.

Also, thank you to everyone who commented on Chapter 1!