Mike let out a deep sigh, shouldering his backpack as he got out of the car and started walking across the student parking lot. It was finally the end of the first week back after Christmas break.
It hadn't felt like Christmas at all. There was of course no snow; the temperature never even dropped below fifty. It made all the decorations on people's houses feel silly—snowmen and reindeer standing out in stark contrast against green grass and palm trees.
The tree, which under normal circumstances would have been carefully selected from the farm just outside Hawkins, had been replaced by a tacky, artificial, silver one, and despite his mother's over-the-top effort to make it feel like the holidays of the past, Mike had been unable to shake the feeling that they were just playing pretend.
He'd spent most of the break reading in his room, trying not to think about how Nancy was in Hawkins and wondering if he'd made the right choice staying behind. He hadn't even had the option of going to Surfer Boy to distract himself since Argyle had gone to visit family in Baja and Max was with her dad.
Mike supposed he could have seen what Jonesy was up to, but he wasn't sure what hanging out with the mysterious, introverted boy would be like one-on-one. The potential for weirdness was very high.
He heard a sharp whistle from behind him and turned to see all three of them in Argyle's van, sitting on the floor with the door open. Mike's fingers tightened around the strap of his backpack as he approached, his heart speeding up as he tried not to stare at Max.
It had been nearly three weeks since their almost-kiss at the party, and it seemed she truly didn't remember it happening at all. He'd been beyond nervous to see her again after the break, but she acted completely normal.
He had hoped, foolishly, that maybe their short time apart would cure him of his crush, but he wanted her more than ever.
"Time for your first field trip, New Kid," she said as he came to a stop in front of them. "Get in."
Mike hesitated. He had a quiz in physics that afternoon, but Max was giving him that smile that had him following her orders before he even knew what was happening. It wasn't as if it was his first time cutting class anyway.
Argyle hoisted himself into the driver's seat and started up the engine, reggae music blaring from the speakers. As he pulled out of the parking lot, Jonesy reached into the paper bag in his lap and tossed Mike and Max each a foil-wrapped burrito.
"Where are we going?" Mike asked as he unwrapped his.
Max flashed him a secretive smirk. "To the best city in the world."
Two and a half hours later, Mike was sitting sideways in the backseat, leaning up against the window as he watched Max colour in the toe-caps of his Converse with black marker. His mom was definitely going to have something to say about that when she saw it.
There was a tear in the knee of Max's jeans, and he realized his eyes were transfixed on the white threads pulled taut over pale skin. God, was he really losing it over a sliver of her knee? So pathetic.
The city of Oakland flashed by in the background as they approached their destination. He had figured out pretty quickly once they'd gotten on the highway that they were heading toward San Francisco.
Mike tapped his fingers on his knee impatiently. He had no idea what to expect. The few times he'd seen it in the news was because of some kind of political protest, prompting his father to grumble disapprovingly about hippies and queers disrespecting the White House.
"There she is, dudes!" Argyle exclaimed as a body of water appeared on their right.
Mike swung his feet to the floor, pressing his face to the window as he gawked at his first sight of the bay.
It was clear and sunny, and soon the tall buildings of downtown San Francisco came into view ahead of them, like a postcard brought to life.
He tried not to show the awe he felt at the construction of the Bay Bridge. Max and the guys had probably been on it countless times, but the fact that they were currently driving over water was kind of blowing his mind, and he did not need to hear their teasing about his sheltered Midwestern upbringing.
Argyle drove wildly through the busy, narrow streets, swerving between lanes and cutting people off with zero remorse. Eventually, he pulled up to a curb and cut the engine, reaching into the glove compartment and taking out an old parking ticket that he tucked under the windshield wipers while the rest of them got out, stretching out the stiffness in their spines.
They stepped into the shade of one of the trees on the townhouse-lined street, and Mike raised an eyebrow as Jonesy produced a bag of something brown and shrivelled from the inside pocket of his army surplus jacket.
Argyle rubbed his hands together. "Alright, let's do this!"
"Uh, what exactly is this?" Mike asked, feeling lost as he looked around at the group.
"Psilocyben cubensis," Jonesy answered matter of factly.
"Which is nerd for magic mushrooms, man," Argyle grinned as he held out his palm for Jonesy to shake a few into.
"Oh."
Mike had heard about hallucinogenic mushrooms. He was pretty sure it was one of the things Eddie had sold in Hawkins. He had also heard about bad trips, which frankly sounded the opposite of a good time.
"You don't have to if you don't want to," Max said gently.
"But you'd be a lot cooler if you did!" Argyle exclaimed, jabbing an elbow into Mike's side.
Mike chewed on his lip as he stared at the bag in Jonesy's hand. He didn't want to be a square. And he was kind of curious. What the hell.
He held out his hand. "I'm in."
Once they all had some mushrooms, they brought their palms to their mouths and tossed them back, immediately grimacing at the revolting taste.
"Chew and swallow, chew and swallow!" Max said through her mouthful.
Mike followed her instructions, chewing as little as possible before swallowing forcefully and trying not to focus on the bitter, earthy flavour that made it feel like he was eating dirt.
They washed the shrooms down with a bottled lemonade Argyle produced from his backpack, grateful for the tart, sugary liquid that immediately masked the unpleasant aftertaste.
After putting everything away, they started down the sidewalk. It seemed like they all knew where they were going, so Mike let himself take in his surroundings as the quiet residential street quickly morphed into a busier touristy area near the water.
"They'll kick in in about half an hour, so we should be timing it perfectly," Argyle said as they approached a bustling pier, the smell of fish and brine thick in the air.
Mike dragged his eyes away from a mural of MLK that had caught his attention, jogging to catch up with them. "Uh, timing what perfectly?"
Mike checked his watch for the hundredth time as they stood in line to pay for their aquarium tickets. The mushrooms should be kicking in any minute now. He wasn't at all sure what to expect, but he was excited—nervous, too.
He took his change and receipt from the cheerful attendant and joined the rest of the group at the aquarium's entrance.
"So, how am I gonna be able to tell when the… stuff is working?" he asked, lowering his voice.
"Oh, you'll know," Max smiled cryptically. She turned to Argyle and Jonesy. "If we get separated we meet back here at two, got it?"
When both the boys had nodded in agreement, she clapped her hands together and turned towards the entrance. "Let's do this."
Mike hung towards the back of the group as they strolled across the lobby. It wasn't too busy at the aquarium that day—a few groups of young schoolchildren on a field trip running around and a handful of older couples who were clearly tourists.
Suddenly, the noises around him felt a little muted, and when he turned his head to look forward again, the world already seemed softer, edges blurring just slightly, colours humming beneath the surface. Whoa.
He realized Max and the guys had gotten ahead of him. Blinking hard, he moved forward, past the cluster of kids that looked to be a little older than Holly gathered around their teacher, and caught up to his friends at the entrance to an aquatic tunnel that led to the main exhibits.
Argyle grinned, looking him up and down. "You're already feeling it, aren't you? Damn, I wish I could experience that first-time trip again, dude. Mine better kick in soon."
Mike nodded, distracted by the tunnel looming ahead, glowing blue and green like a portal. He swallowed. The trip was coming on fast.
He followed the group as they wandered inside, taking deep breaths as he gawked at the marine ecosystem he found himself ensconced in. Walls of glass held back entire worlds—an endless ocean compressed into a single corridor. Light filtered through the tanks, rippling and shimmering in a way that made his breath catch. Small, brightly coloured fish darted around in schools, while larger, solitary sharks circled lazily above.
The jellyfish were the first to capture him completely. They pulsed, slow and hypnotic, drifting like ghosts of an alien planet. Their translucent bodies pulsed with colour—blue, then pink, then golden orange, like tiny sunbursts.
Mike stood, mesmerized. His fingers stretched towards the glass. He dragged his hand to the left, shocked when it seemed the tropical fish in front of him followed the movement. Was he controlling it? He moved his hand the other way, and the fish followed.
He exhaled, the breath leaving his body in a visible swirl— wait, was that real? He laughed to himself. It didn't matter.
Looking ahead, he saw the familiar flash of Max's hair at the end of the tunnel, its orange glow beckoning him over like a siren song.
As the tunnel opened up into the next exhibit, he felt the mushrooms gripping his perception more fully.
The tanks were no longer just glass walls filled with fish—they were windows into a different dimension. Not a scary one like the Upside Down; a peaceful, magical one.
A massive stingray glided past, its body undulating like silk caught in a breeze. It turned its belly toward him and, for a brief moment, Mike swore it was smiling.
The colours were the most stimulating. The neon flicker of an angelfish tail left behind streaks of light, like brush strokes on a canvas. The coral shone in technicolour hues, pulsing, breathing, alive.
The giggle of a child somewhere behind him felt unusually profound—the sound echoing, stretching out and curling around his thoughts.
Time no longer moved in the way it should. Minutes stretched and folded over themselves, thoughts looping in gentle waves. Was he underwater? Was he breathing? He touched his chest just to be sure, feeling the steady rise and fall.
Mike looked around for his friends, not seeing any of them. He was pretty sure he'd lost Argyle and Jonesy back at the touch tank, leaving them to fondle coral and starfish to their heart's content. He hadn't seen Max in a while either. He missed her.
He squinted at his watch. How was it possible an hour had already gone by?
A shark slid past on the other side of the glass, dark-eyed and patient, and Mike understood—really understood—that he was small, so small, but not in a frightening way. Just in the way that everything was connected, every creature part of the same planetary motion.
Mike licked his lips, realizing his mouth felt dry and cottony, like when he smoked weed. Swinging his backpack around, he unzipped it and reached inside in hopes of finding some forgotten snack. His hand closed around a small cardboard box, and he pulled it out to discover a half-eaten box of Razzles. Score.
He popped a few in his mouth, the fruity flavour exploding bright and acidic across his tongue as his feet carried him through a darkened hallway into the next room.
Mike blinked as he took in the massive tank in front of him. The ceiling was high, easily thirty feet. The three other walls were painted black, and behind the thick glass, a pod of beluga whales twisted idly through the turquoise water.
There was no one else in the room, leaving it eerily quiet as he dropped his backpack on the floor and stepped forward to observe the creatures before him, their pale bodies luminous in the soft beams of light refracting from the top of the tank.
One swam close to the glass, its round head bobbing, its small, black eyes locking onto his. He felt an odd shiver crawl up his spine—not from fear, but from recognition.
The whale exhaled a plume of silver bubbles that spiralled toward the surface. Its mouth curved in that perpetual, gentle smile, and he wondered what it would say if it could speak.
"There you are."
Mike startled at the sound of Max's voice behind him. He turned to look at her, only to be immediately blinded by her beauty, the shimmering reflection of the water making her look like some kind of mermaid. God, he was so fucked.
"Ooh, gimme one of those," she said when she noticed what he was holding.
"No way," he chuckled, lifting the box of Razzles over his head and out of her reach.
"Please…" She stuck out her bottom lip in an exaggerated pout that made him want to kiss her face off.
Instead, he scoffed and turned away, walking over to the informational sign next to the tank. He tried to read it but the letters were shifting before his eyes. "Why should I?"
It was silent for a few beats.
"Oh, I dunno, maybe because you… like like me?"
Mike froze while he tried to figure out if she'd actually said that or if he'd imagined it. No, she definitely had. Holy shit.
He turned around slowly.
Max had a knowing smile on her face, leaning back against the tank with her hands folded behind her.
"You do remember," he breathed.
She nodded. "I do."
Stomach somersaulting, Mike stuffed the candy in his back pocket, not taking his eyes off of her as he took a step forward. "So… why did you act like you didn't?"
She shrugged, scraping her teeth over her bottom lip. "I guess I… freaked out a little."
He took another step closer, mind reeling at her confession. "About what?"
"About how much I like like you, too."
In a few strides, he closed the rest of the distance between them. Max tilted her head back against the glass, looking up at him with eyes that matched the tank behind her. Her pupils were blown wide open, black nearly eclipsing all the blue, and he swore her freckles were swirling across her face.
He tried to keep his hands steady as he reached for her, one settling into the dip of her waist and the other on her cheek.
The whole time he waited for her to tell him she was kidding, to laugh and punch him playfully in the stomach, but she stayed still, gazing up at him with that small, expectant smile.
He stroked his thumb across her cheekbone, feeling reassured when she leaned minutely into his touch.
Mike inhaled shakily. His heart was going a mile a minute. "I'm gonna kiss you now…"
Her smile widened. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah," he nodded, leaning in.
"Well, hurry up th–"
Kissing Max Mayfield was nothing like what Mike had imagined all those nights he had lain awake in his bed.
He'd thought she would crash over him like a tidal wave, but instead, it was soft and languid, like slipping into a warm bath.
A light, tingly feeling originated in his lips and washed over his whole body as their mouths moved together. The world turned pink and hazy behind his closed eyelids.
Her hands came up to grip his biceps. He could feel the barely restrained tension beneath her fingertips, like she was fighting the urge to intensify things. He moved into her, gently pushing her up against the glass of the enclosure.
Heat smouldered inside him as if he could physically feel the energy moving back and forth between their bodies with each kiss. Goosebumps broke out over his skin as she wrapped her arms around his back, pulling him closer.
They parted for a moment, lips just barely caressing before melding back together, deeper this time. He slid his hand up through her silky hair, angling her head up a little so he could cautiously press his tongue–
"Eww!"
They sprang apart, whirling around to find a group of kids standing in the doorway, small mouths open in shock and disgust.
Mike wanted to scream at his kiss with Max being interrupted yet again, but then she laughed, dropping her head to his chest in embarrassment and causing him to let out an exasperated chuckle as well.
"Let's get out of here." She grabbed his hand and they practically ran out of the room, mumbling hurried apologies to the traumatized children along the way.
He expected her to drop his hand once they rounded the corner but instead, she interlaced her fingers with his, and another burst of happiness exploded in his chest.
They stopped in front of a tank full of sea turtles, giggling as the ancient reptiles glided playfully through the water.
After a minute, Mike realized his back pocket felt suspiciously light. He reached back to pat it with his free hand, confirming it was empty. Had Max somehow managed to rob him while they were making out?
He glanced over to find her already looking at him, a mischievous gleam in her eye. Mike narrowed his eyes.
"Missing something?" She fluttered her lashes in feigned innocence even though she was very obviously chewing gum she hadn't had before.
He pursed his lips but decided to let it go. She could have his candy. She could have everything he owned.
They found Argyle and Jonesy sitting on a bench in front of the jellyfish, seemingly catatonic. Argyle's open-mouthed stare didn't leave the tank as they approached, but Jonesy looked over, his gaze immediately dropping to their conjoined hands.
He nodded, lips quirking into a tiny smile. "About fuckin' time."
Mike sighed in relief as Max tugged him a little further down. He'd been somewhat worried that Argyle and Jonesy would pull some overprotective brother routine when they found out, but it seemed he'd been more obvious about his feelings than he'd thought.
Max gave his hand a squeeze as they observed the pulsating, translucent jellyfish.
"They don't have brains, you know," she said softly.
Mike blinked. "Wait, what?"
She turned to him, grinning. "Jellyfish. No brains, no hearts, nothing. Just… existing."
He frowned, staring at the jellyfish. "That's kinda terrifying."
Max laughed. "Or kind of peaceful. Imagine just floating through life like that."
Mike glanced at her, then back at the glowing creatures, tilting his head. "Yeah, I guess I wouldn't mind it if I was floating next to you," he said, keeping his words casual—almost teasing—so as not to give away how serious he actually was.
She nudged him with her shoulder, trying to hide the blush spreading over her face. "That was so corny."
"Got a problem with it?" he asked, raising a brow.
Max rolled her eyes and looked away, unable to mask her smile. "I guess not."
Mike shielded his eyes as they stepped outside, wishing he had sunglasses like the ones hanging around Argyle's neck. He zipped his jacket all the way to the top, tucking in his chin as the cool ocean breeze ruffled his hair.
It was so much noisier out here, and it smelled like the sea and fried dough and faintly of urine. He glanced around as his eyes adjusted to the brightness.
There were so many people. It was almost too much for his senses. He forced himself to focus on some of them, turning them into actual humans instead of blobs of colour.
A family of four posing for a picture… two men holding hands… a group of teens gossiping in Spanish, elbows linked…
Mike did a double-take. Two men holding hands?
He looked around, shocked that no one seemed to care. They were just there, pointing at the sea lions in the harbour and acting like any other ordinary couple. That could never happen in Hawkins.
His stomach tightened as Will's shadowed face appeared in his mind, briefly illuminated by the flicker of the porch light. Tear-filled hazel eyes.A sharp intake of breath. A muttered apology.
Thankfully the memory was fleeting, vanishing as quickly as it had come on as Mike was whisked through the crowd of neon-clad tourists.
The passage of time was still confusingly amorphous. If he wasn't so grounded by Max's hand securely holding his, he would probably be quite overwhelmed. Instead, he let her lead him across the city, fully surrendering to the weightless magic that seemed to wrap itself around them.
After what felt like an eternity of walking, the group arrived at a public park, settling down on the grass beneath the dappled shade of a tree. A man nearby plucked at an acoustic guitar, the familiar chords of Simon and Garfunkel floating through the air.
Mike pressed his palms into the soft grass. It was so green, like somebody had just painted it with a roller. He was certain that if he lifted his hand it would come away streaked in emerald.
They all lay down in a circle, heads in the middle, as they gazed up at the shapeshifting clouds. Mike had his hands folded over his chest when he realized he and Max had disconnected at some point. It felt wrong.
His heart sped up as he slowly reached down to where her hand rested between them, nudging the backs of his knuckles against hers. She immediately flipped her palm over, interlocking their fingers once again.
Mike beamed up at the sky, struggling to think of a moment he'd ever felt happier. It was pure euphoria.
"Aww, are we all holding hands?" Argyle said teasingly as he reached for Mike on the other side.
"No!" Mike jerked his hand out of his grasp as Max and Jonesy laughed. "And why is yours so sticky?"
They made their way back to the waterfront, ambling around the piers as the shrooms slowly wore off. Dinner was tacos from a stand followed by a shared joint while they watched the sun go down over the bay, elbows leaning on the stone wall in front of them.
Clouds stretched in long bands of pink and violet across the evening sky, their wispy fingertips glowing with the reflection of the day's last dying rays of light. It was breathtaking.
At least Mike supposed it was. He didn't really know, because he couldn't take his eyes off of Max.
She was like California personified, with her ocean eyes and her sunset hair, and her smile that hit him like a million watts straight from the sun.
By the time Argyle deemed himself sober enough to drive, it was completely dark out.
Unlike the drive there, they were quiet on the way back, tired and contemplative. Jonesy fell asleep ten minutes in, snoring softly from the passenger seat.
Mike and Max were sitting next to each other, knees touching but otherwise keeping their hands to themselves. Mike wanted to remedy that, but he wasn't exactly adept at making the first move.
In what he hoped was an inconspicuous gesture, he yawned and reached his right hand up to scratch the back of his neck before extending his arm out behind her and wrapping it around her hip.
Max snickered softly but shifted closer, leaning into his side.
Mike sighed, the warmth of her body and the quiet music playing making his eyelids feel heavy.
The whole day had felt surreal; Mike was certain he would wake up any second now and realize it'd all been a dream. It still felt unbelievable that she returned his feelings, that he hadn't been imagining the flirtatious glances and the nearly oppressive tension. It was too good to be true.
He smiled to himself as he gazed out the window, the oncoming headlights nothing more than diffuse smears of light.
He was half-asleep when the van lurched to a sudden stop.
"First stop: Casa di Wheeler!" Argyle announced.
Mike blinked his eyes open. He'd been slumped against the window with Max still nestled under his arm. She straightened up, rubbing blearily at her eyes before looking at Mike with a soft smile.
He licked his lips as he glanced at the two boys watching them from the front seat, his heart going a mile a minute. Would it be too much to kiss her goodbye? Was that even something she wanted?
"Boys, avert your eyes," Max said, her gaze never leaving his.
Jonesy obediently pulled his beanie down over his face while Argyle clapped a hand over his eyes.
Then she grabbed Mike by the lapels of his windbreaker and tugged him towards her, kissing him with a firm tenderness that made his head spin. He didn't even have time to close his eyes before she pulled away, dropping her hands to her lap.
"See you tomorrow?" she asked quietly.
Mike could only nod stupidly in reply, still dazed from the kiss she'd just laid on him. He got out of the van and walked up the driveway to his house, smiling like a total doofus the entire time.
The house was quiet as he stepped inside, and he leaned back against the front door once he closed it. Max had kissed him. Twice! And she like-liked him back. This had to be up there with one of the best days of his life.
"Michael Wheeler!"
Uh oh.
Mike winced as his mother appeared in the kitchen doorway, her expression furious. "Just where have you been all day?!"
"Uh…"
"The school called," his dad said as he walked out of the living room. "We know you skipped all of your classes."
"And what are you wearing?" his mom asked, eyeing his t-shirt disapprovingly.
Mike looked down in confusion, huffing out a laugh. He'd completely forgotten about the novelty shirt he'd purchased impulsively from a vendor at the wharf after they'd smoked. It featured a cartoon orca with the words "Blow Me" emerging in bubble letters from the blowhole. At the time he'd thought it was the most hilarious thing he'd ever seen.
His father crossed his arms. "We're waiting, young man."
Mike shrugged, unable to find it in himself to feel any kind of regret over ditching class or dread over his parents' wrath. Not when he was still flying high from both the drugs and the kiss.
"Um… definitely not in San Francisco?" he said with a huge smile.
A/N: Yay, they got their shit together, guys! But that doesn't mean there isn't still some drama ahead ;) Thank you to everyone for leaving comments, it always makes my day!
Did I do shrooms at an aquarium for research purposes? Perhaps...
Also, I know the San Francisco aquarium isn't actually that good, but for fic purposes we're pretending it is.