Who is Gonna Come and Turn The Tide?

by David_Ginsberg

Summary:

After saving Billy Hargrove and the good people of Hawkins, Indiana from the Mindflayer, the Party starts high school hoping to put everything related to Hawkins Lab and the Upside Down behind them. Things won't be quite that simple.

Chapter 1: First Day of School

Nancy Wheeler – September 3, 1985

Mom had talked Dad into making the Country Squire my birthday present, I suspect partially as an apology for Billy. The catch was that I had to give Mike, Lucas, and El a ride to and from school. Honestly, I didn’t mind it that much; it would give us a chance to compare notes away from Mom and Dad if anything else weird happened. The only drawback was that we had to leave early to pick up El at Hopper’s place and still be at school on time.

Hopper and El were both ready and waiting by the time we got there, and Hopper seemed nervous.

“Now, remember Jane. We’ve arranged your schedule so that you have a friend in every class except Math. You’ve got Mike for English and Spanish, Maxine for PE and Science, your science teacher is Mr. Clarke, he’s moved up to the high school this year.”

Mr. Clarke had started tutoring El after finding out about her over the summer.

“And, then for band, uhh…”

“Robin’s the TA,” I volunteered.

“Right, and then for lunch…”

“…Jason will meet you in front of the band room,” Mike volunteered, “follow him through the lunch line and to his table, where you both are going to sit at the edge of the tennis team. If anyone asks about you he’ll explain that you’re in new in town so he offered to let you sit with him. Will, Dustin, and I will try to sit next to you guys. Jason is pretty sure the tennis team will be okay with that, but if there’s any problem, Nancy…”

“Will be sitting with my friends in a spot where we can keep an eye on things unobtrusively and intervene if there’s trouble.”

“Trouble?” We’d managed to confuse El.

“I’m sure there won’t be any trouble,” I tried to reassured her. “Everything’s going to be great.”

I spent the drive over to school trying to hype El and the boys up, but I had to admit that some of their nervousness was rubbing off on me. I spent most of the morning coming up with new scenarios for what could go wrong in my head, and my heart sank when I saw Tommy Hagan walking over to their table at lunch. I caught Mike’s eye, ready to intervene, but he nodded me off.

Feeling relieved, I didn’t worry about El for the rest of the day, and she seemed genuinely excited on the ride back to her house, gushing about all her classes and new friends. Mike and Lucas seemed a little less excited.

“Did everything go okay?” I asked once we had dropped El off.

“I guess so,” Mike responded sullenly.

“Ok, Mike. I know I don’t have powers, but I can tell when you’re lying.”

“It’s just…she doesn’t really grok the concept of sarcasm.”

“Oh…shit.”

“Yeah…shit.”

“So, the friends she was talking about making…” In the rearview mirror, I could see Lucas shaking his head.

“What about the tennis team?”

“They tolerate her, but they aren’t out to be friends with her. They think we’re all one of Jason’s projects.”

“Projects?”

“Jason kind of has a reputation as a goody two-shoes. That’s why I didn’t like him at first. They think he’s just friends with us so he can, like, write a college essay about being nice to the weird kids.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

Mike shrugged. “It’s the best way to cover for what’s really going on.”

I tried to be reassuring. “I’m sure it won’t be an issue in a couple of months. The whole ‘make yourself popular by beating up on the nerds’ thing doesn’t play as well in high school.”

“What about Hagan?”

“He was never as popular as he thought he was. People only really put up with him and Carole because they were friends with Steve, and now that Steve graduated and he didn’t, everyone is just going to think he’s pathetic. By the way, what was going on with him and you guys at lunch?”

“Like I said, El doesn’t get sarcasm.”

The car was quiet for a few minutes, until we’d almost reached the house. Then, Mike spoke up again. “So, uh…speaking of super seniors, did you know Eddie Munson runs a school D-and-D club?”

“You’re not seriously going to spend your freshman year of high school hanging out with Eddie Munson, are you?”

“Oh, now who’s beating up on the nerdy kids.”

“He’s not a kid! He’s pushing 20! And he’s into, like, Satanism. He sells Jonathan weed!”

Mike rolled his eyes “Well, I’ve been getting mine from Jonathan, so this will cut out the middleman. And if he summons a demon we can just get El to take care of it for us.”  

“I’m not saying you’re going to summon a demon, Mike…”

“And I’m saying we’ve handled way worse than Eddie Munson. Look, it’s just Friday nights, and otherwise we’re not going to have anything to do on Fridays…”

“So this is about you not being popular?”

“Jeez, you’ve been hanging out with Jonathan too long.”

“Look, why don’t you talk about it with the counselor?”

“You want me to tell the ‘guidance counselor’ the CIA planted in our school that I’m a nerd and I play D and D. That’s something you think requires psychological counseling?”

“Can we talk about it later? I told Murray I’d be at the paper by four.”

I wanted to be on time to see the next day’s edition. It would carry my first ever solo byline, right on the front page:

New Starcourt Owners Propose East Hawkins Development.

Chapter 2: Halloween Deja Vu

Mike Wheeler – October 25, 1985

Friday night was a home football game, which meant I was able to walk El back to the cabin.

“So what are you going as to trick or treat this year?”

“Oh, um, high school kids don’t really go trick-or-treating.”

“What do they do?”

“Go to parties and get drunk, mostly. I don’t know if your dad would let you, and really you’re not supposed to without an invitation…”

“Oh.” I could hear the disappointment in her voice.

“But I bet Max and Will would want to come over and watch scary movies and eat popcorn. Maybe Jason.” I wasn’t sure about Jason, he had a wider circle of friends than the rest of us from playing tennis, and he would probably get invited to a real party.

“Okay,” she still sounded disappointed.

“You were really looking forward to trick-or-treating, weren’t you?”

“Yeah, but we can compromise.”

“It’s just that, well, we’d probably get made fun of at school after, and if anyone recognized me they’d think my Mom was being a bad mom for letting me go out, and they’d probably think we were going to t-p them or egg their house…”

“Oh, I guess I should have gone last year.”

Yeah, that would have been great, except your dad decided to be an overprotective asshole. But, then, what else is new?

“I’ll steal some of Holly’s candy for you.”

I thought about Holly as I walked back from Hopper’s place. She got along really well with El, who could get far more excited about playing house or a blow-by-blow account of the Care Bears’ latest adventures than Nancy or I. By breakfast the next morning, I had formulated a plan.

“So is Holly going to trick-or-treat this year?”

“I think she’s a little young to go by herself, so I was going to take her.”

“Jane and I can take her.”

“I want to go trick or treating with Jane!”

“Really? you want to take your sister trick or treating?”

“But Mike can’t have any of my candy.”

“I don’t want your candy, Holly, it’s just that Jane never got to go trick-or-treating when she was young enough to, so this can be a chance for her to dress up and be around people.”

“Did the mean people not let her go trick-or-treating?” Mom had decided that the age-appropriate version of the cult story was that El had lived with ‘mean people’ who didn’t let her watch TV or play with other children.

“No, sweetie, they didn’t. So she’s going to go trick-or-treating with you and Mike this year.”

“Yay!” Holly clapped her hands together. And it was settled, at least on my end.

I brought it up with El at lunch. Somehow in the weird politics of high school cafeterias we had gotten tacked onto the end of the athlete’s table, with Jason serving as the link between the preppie athletes and the four weirdos plus two random girls who had both showed up in mysterious circumstances. None of the tennis players suspected anything about Will and Jason – according to Will, when they thought about him at all, they just assumed that he was the least obnoxious kid in the advanced classes with Jason. And, really, they weren’t as douchey as I would have assumed, but I was still nervous with them around El, so I told her in a low voice.

“So, this is going to be Holly’s first year trick-or-treating, and I kind of volunteered to take her, since Mom thinks she’s too young to go by herself. I was thinking we could go together.”

“Can we dress up?” I glanced around nervously. She had been a little too enthusiastic and I didn’t want anyone to see and make fun of her.

“Sure, I don’t see why not. But, uh, nothing too elaborate, ok? And we’re not wearing them to school.” Last years’ Ghostbusters debacle was fresh in my mind.

“Ghost!”

“Yeah, we can be ghosts.”

One of the cheerleaders – I think her name was Chrissy - had overheard us and turned to El. “Oh, you’re taking Mike’s sister trick-or-treating? That’s so sweet of you!”

I rolled my eyes when she turned away. Just as Jason and Nancy had promised, the upperclassmen in the newspaper and tennis team had taken El on as a project. The problem with that was that they assumed she was handicapped and treated her like a four-year-old, which made it even harder for her to understand when someone was actually making fun of her.

My next class was Trig – the only class that Lucas, Dustin, Jason, Will, and I shared and that we couldn’t finagle the schedules so that someone was in the same class as El. The four of them cornered me as we were leaving class.

“So, the tennis team’s having a party Friday night,” Jason said.

“Okay.”

“And we’re invited,” Lucas explained.

“Wait, why couldn’t you tell me at lunch?”

“We didn’t think El would…”

“So, you’re excluding her?”

“I mean, she’s the police chief’s daughter,” Jason said, “there’s gonna be beer, and if he finds out…”

“Well, I’m not lying to her.” Honesty was a huge deal for El, since 'friends don't lie' was pretty much the first thing she'd learned of the outside world.

“She has to realize that he’ll go ballistic if she drinks," Jason answered, sounding a little annoyed. "Besides, you usually hang out without her Friday night anyway. Isn’t that your board game night with Munson and his gang?”

“That’s the other thing. Munson will freak out worse than she will. It’s a very strict rule...”

“If a party member is unavailable at the scheduled time, they have to recruit a substitute.” Dustin and Will repeated the rule along with me.

“You cannot seriously be telling me that you’re going to turn down a high school party to play D and D with Eddie Munson.” Lucas moaned.

“Do you want to be the one to tell him we’re ditching him for the tennis team?”

“Gladly. He’s got such a stick up his ass about being bullied.”

“Like you don’t…”

“I have a chance not to be bullied anymore. We all do, which is why I don’t get why you two are so eager to blow it on Eddie fucking Munson.”

“Please, Mike,” Will begged, “if you guys don’t go, it’ll look weird that I’m going with Jason.”

Finally, Dustin stepped in to pacify things. “How about this. You tell Eleven that you’re going to a party but you don’t think she’d like it because it would be crowded, which is pretty true, right?”

“Right,”

“And then we tell Eddie that Will’s mom gave him a strict nine o’clock curfew, which gives us an excuse to leave early…”

“That should hold up for the rest of the year,” Jason pointed out, “so, like, Will could maybe come over when neither of us have other plans.”

I couldn’t argue with that logic, or the pleading looks in both Will and Jason’s eyes.

“All right, I’ll talk to El.”

It turned out that El was fine with it; she really did get bothered by crowds, and Friday nights were her and Hopper’s nights to watch Miami Vice. So, when Halloween came around, we got dressed up in old sheets with eye holes cut through them (that conveniently obscured our faces so that no one from school would recognize us and fuck with El) and took Holly out. We stood at the edge of the driveways and let Holly go up to the door by herself, but El loved it just the same.

Holly started to flag around 8:30, and I picked her up and carried her piggy-back back home. I kissed El goodnight and walked over to Lucas’ house.

“So are we actually supposed to wear costumes to this party?”

“Boo!” Max answered my question by jumping out in a zombie costume from Dawn of the Dead.

“Jesus Christ! Are you going to do that do us every Halloween?”

“Yep. You’re a ghost? Very original, Wheeler.”

“El wanted to be ghosts.”

“Where is she?”

“On the couch with Hopper watching Miami Vice.”

“You didn’t invite her?”

“I told her it was too crowded. Besides, we don’t know who’s going to be there.”

Max rolled her eyes, but didn’t press the issue. A few minutes later, I found myself awkwardly third-wheeling Jason and Will while they made small talk with the other cool kids.

“…I really loved that poster you made for the pep rally. It’s so original!”

“Thanks.”

Jason and Will thought that hanging out together without a group would make them suspicious, so they wanted me, Lucas, and Dustin to stick close by. Plus, Will had discovered that alcohol made him flirty, so he’d develop a strategy of surreptitiously handing me his drink when no one was looking. A cup of punch made its way into my hand as Will was explaining the influence he derived from Keith Haring to a girl dressed as Siouxsie Soux.

Figuring that Will had met a kindred spirit, I broke off and attempted to mingle with the other party-goers, most of whom knew me as Nancy Wheeler’s Kid Brother, if they knew me at all. I could tell none of them really wanted to talk to me, so I retreated to the food table, where Chrissy the cheerleader was going to town on a plate of chips.

“Fun party, huh?” I knew as soon as I said it that I sounded stupid. Fortunately, Chrissy didn’t seem to notice. She just wiped her mouth and swallowed quickly.

“Oh, yeah. Great. Is Jane here?”

“Oh, no…uh…she doesn’t really like crowds.”

“Oooohh…that’s too bad.” The tone of pity in Chrissy’s voice irritated me, and I started looking around for an excuse to break off the conversation. Unfortunately for me, her boyfriend showed up before I could get away. Jason Carver was probably going to be the captain of next year’s basketball team, and Lucas wanted to try out, so I needed to avoid pissing him off at all costs.

“You’re Nancy Wheeler’s brother, right?”

“Yeah, Mike.” I extended my hand. He had a very firm handshake, the kind that my Dad would say would take you far in life.

“Jason Carver. You ever think about trying out for basketball?”

“No, but my friend Lucas is going to this fall. He’s around here somewhere, I’ll introduce you.”

I found Lucas and Max and resumed my third wheel position while Lucas bored Max by commiserating with Carver about the Pacers. A few minutes into the conversation Max nudged me.

“Guess who just showed up.”

I looked toward the door and saw Angela Kirby, dressed as Madonna, making a beeline for Jason Ellis.

“Oh, shit!”

“What is it?” Jason Carver asked, sounding mildly concerned.

“Oh, nothing. It’s just that girl who just came in picks on Jane sometimes.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about her," Chrissy tried to assure us "You know, some kids think the way to become popular in high school is to pick on someone like Jane to get attention. But they soon realize the attention they get isn’t the kind they want, and that if you want true friends, the way to get them is through kindness. Who knows, by senior year, Jane and that girl could be the best of friends.”

I thought that statement was laughably naïve, but it seemed like Chrissy was genuinely trying to cheer me up, so I let it slide.

“I hope so. So, uh, did you guys catch the Colts last week?”

Luckily for me, the Colts had actually played last week, and even won, which was apparently unusual for them this year. That kept the conversation going for a few minutes, until I heard Will’s voice in my head.

Mike, you’ve got to bail me out.

Huh?

Angela has a crush on Jason, and she’s trying to impress him on picking on me. But if I just leave, it’ll look like I’m a bad sport.

Got it.

“Hey, uh, I’m going to go get some more punch.”

“I’ll come with you,” Max volunteered, probably to get away from the sports talk. We pushed through the crowd to where Angela and her lackeys were tearing into Will.

“So, are they going to have another funeral for you when you die from AIDS or is that a you only get one deal?”

Jake Fletcher laughed like a hyena while Jason, Siouxsie, and Will stood around looking miserable.

“Hey, guys!” Max said, loudly enough to startle Angela. She turned around and bumped me, spilling her drink all over my sheet.

“Damn it! Wheeler. Why don’t you watch where you’re going you clumsy little…” Her shittiness was now fully directed at me, which to be honest I was perfectly fine with. That sort of thing bothered me way less than it did Will or Jason and I was happy to take the hit for them. Once she’d calmed down, we went looking for the bathroom so I could clean the punch off before too much of it leaked through to my shirt. Assuming the downstairs bathrooms would all be in use by kids puking or doing coke, we went upstairs. We found a bathroom but it was occupied – it sounded like someone was in there puking.

I was surprised when the door opened to reveal Chrissy the cheerleader. She hadn’t seemed that drunk when we’d talked to her earlier. She seemed a little panicked to see us.

“What are you doing here?”

“I got punch on my costume. I was going to clean it up in the bathroom.”

“Are you…are you okay?” Jason asked.

“I’m fine,” she responded sharply, then plastered a smile onto her face. “I just, feel like maybe I need to lie down for a bit. I’m going to go find Jason.”

The three of us crammed into the bathroom. I took the sheet off and started rubbing out the punch.

“So that was a weird conversation, right?” Jason asked.

“I got into Chrissy’s head,” Will said, “something’s not right.”

“It’s not…”

“No. It’s some sort of mental problem, but I don’t understand it. I think I’m going to talk to Ms. Kelly.”

We managed to get the sheet as clean as it was going to get, then found Nancy and Jonathan, who was extremely relieved to have an excuse to take us home.

Chapter 3: Running Up That Hill

Will Byers – November 4, 1985

My next appointment with Ms. Kelley was the Monday after Halloween. As usual, she started out by asking if I’d seen anything unusual in people’s heads the past week.

“Nothing Upside Down or espionage related. But, uh, there’s a counseling issue you should probably know about.”

“What happened.”

“I went to a Halloween Party with Jason. Long story short, we needed to use the bathroom.”

“Both of you at the same time?”

“Mike spilled punch on his costume, well, let me back up a bit. Angela Kirby was there, and she was making fun of me to impress Jason. She had this joke about how I was going to die of AIDS and would they have two funerals for me.”

“How did that make you feel?”

“I mean. I know it’s dumb to get upset about something Angela Kirby said, but I see stuff on the news, and I just feel like if I go out and die after all the sacrifices people have made, I’ll be letting them down.”

“You know AIDS is a virus. You get it from unprotected sexual activity, not just from being gay.”

“So, um, anyway. I got Mike to come rescue me from Angela, and in the process she spilled her drink on him, so we went to find a bathroom where he could get cleaned up. Chrissy Cunningham was in the bathroom throwing up. She seemed upset, so I read her, and she was really angry at herself for eating too much. She’d made herself throw up.”

“How do you know that?”

“She was afraid of us finding out. She was ashamed of it, but she couldn’t help herself.”

“Hmmm…this is a bit of an ethical quandary.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, no. You did the right thing. It sounds like Chrissy is suffering from bulimia.”

“What is that?”

“A mental disorder in which the victim becomes terrified of being overweight and alternates between overeating and purging, usually by making themselves vomit. It’s not common, but it usually happens to adolescent girls who feel pressure to be thin, cheerleaders, for instance. The consequences can be severe, so she needs to see a counselor, but I can’t exactly tell her you read her mind. Was she behaving oddly enough at the party that I could say you noticed something was off and told me?”

“Umm…It would make things complicated for me if she knew I was the one who told you.”

“Maybe I’ll just do a presentation on eating disorders.” Ms. Kelley had been holding monthly assemblies on various counseling-related topics as part of the school’s plan to address the psychological trauma caused by all the deaths over the summer. So far, they were mainly succeeding in making Ms. Kelly the butt of jokes. “So what about you? It sounds like you’re still dealing with some survivor’s guilt.”

“Yeah,” I sighed, “I am.”

“Have you been trying to get that out in your painting.”

“A little bit. There’s this song that came out a couple of months ago that really matches how I feel.”

“What’s the name of it?”

“Running Up That Hill. It goes ‘If I only could, I’d make a deal with God, and I’d get him to swap our places. I don’t believe in God or anything like that, but if there was some way I could have swapped places with Bob…”

“You haven’t been thinking of hurting yourself, have you?”

“No, at this point what good would that do? I just feel like it should have been me instead of Bob.”

“Hmm…I’m going to give you a homework assignment. We’re getting close to the holiday season. Are you familiar with It’s a Wonderful Life?”

“Yes.”

“You know how Jimmy Stewart’s shown what the world would be like if he were never born?”

“Yes.”

“I want you to take some time this week to think about what things would be like for the people close to you if you’d died instead of Bob.”

I decided to start with my immediate family. Dad was the only person for whom I could say my death would have been an unmitigated benefit; he’d be happy to lose his embarrassing ‘fag’ son, and he’d probably still be with Cynthia and Nick. Of course, that put my continuing existence in the plus column for Cynthia and Nick. A little selfishly, I thought that if I’d died, I would never have gotten to know Nick. I knew Mom was pretty broken up after Bob’s death, but I’m sure it would have been worse if I’d died. It would probably have been like it was when everyone thought I was dead after the Demogorgon got me. Jonathan said those were the loneliest two days of his life, which I guess put Jonathan in the plus column. Of course, for the minus column, I’d have to put Bob’s parents and his friends, although I wasn’t quite sure his parents were still living. And then there were my friends. I’m sure Mike, Lucas, and Dustin would have been upset if I died, but El hadn’t really met me before she came back from Chicago, and I’m pretty sure Jason would have never known I existed. Would he have been better off not meeting me? I’m pretty sure he still would have been gay, but it’s easier to hide something like that when you don’t have a boyfriend. You just have to not get caught looking at other guys. But I knew Jason was happy with me even though we had to hide it from almost everybody else…

I was interrupted by the final bell, so I put away my notebook for the time being and made my way to the art room. I was working on a portrait of Max that I was planning to give her for Christmas. My goal was to have one for each member of the Party, but it was slower going than I’d expected. Sam Stone, the president of the art club made her way over to my easel.

“I didn’t see you leave the party last Thursday.”

“Oh, yeah. We left right after Mike got a drink spilled on him.”

“So that’s where Jonathan went.”

“Yeah, I think he was happy to have an excuse to leave. Nancy always makes him go to these parties when he’d really rather be home reading Vonnegut and listening to the Smiths.”

Sam, who had a crush on Jonathan that she thought she was keeping secret from both him and me, took the opportunity to discreetly pry. “Has she talked him into going to homecoming yet?”

“Yeah. He knows that kind of thing is important to her.”

“What about you?” Sam had figured out that I was gay, and thought that she could be a sort of mentor to me, which would have the convenient side effect of endearing her to Jonathan. Her current plan was to offer to be my beard for Homecoming.

“I don’t know,” I sighed, “it’s just so complicated asking girls. I just wish I could ask a girl as a friend, but I’m afraid they’d read too much into it and then I’d be leading them on…”

“You know, I’m your friend.”

“A good enough friend that you’d be willing to go to Homecoming with a lowly freshman?”

Sam leaned in conspiratorially. “You know, the whole high school popularity thing is total bullshit.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Chapter 4: Everybody's Looking for Something

Ryan Cunningham – November 5, 1985

Chrissy brought up the subject of Homecoming Tuesday night at dinner.

“Have you asked anybody yet, Ryan?”

“I dunno, I was thinking maybe Jennifer Hayes.”

“You’re too late. She’s going with Jason Ellis.”

I groaned.

“That’s an important lesson about high school,” Chrissy chided, her superior air grating on me, “you can’t expect girls to just wait by the phone until you work up the nerve to call. You have to be proactive.”

“Uh-huh.”

The next day, I decided to be proactive with Angela Kirby. Yeah, she could be a bit of a bitch, but she was good looking enough that I wouldn’t totally blow my social credibility. She said yes, and the night of the dance I showed up at her house with a corsage and Chrissy in tow to take pictures. She’d been in one of her moods all day, bugging Mom and then Jason to reassure her that her dress didn’t make her look fat, but she finally stopped when we got to the Kirbys.

We rode over to the dance in the back seat of Jason’s Jeep. Angela was shamelessly flirting with me, and for a while I thought I might actually get lucky as long as I could keep Chrissy out of my hair. My optimism lasted about five minutes after we got to the dance. Angela danced with me for one song and then dragged me across the floor to where Jennifer and Jason Ellis had snagged a table. She immediately started flirting with Jason as aggressively as she’d been flirting with me in the car. Ellis clearly wasn’t interested, but just as clearly was too polite to turn Angela down directly. He was finally saved when the DJ put on ‘Sweet Dreams,’ by the Eurythmics.

“I love this song!” Jason called out a little too excitedly. “Let’s get back on the floor.”

With her preferred date out of the picture, Angela had no choice but to dance with me, but she made sure to glance over at Ellis every chance she got. It looked like Jennifer wasn’t thrilled with him over the way he’d handled Angela, and I felt kind of bad for him. They stuck it out for a couple of dances before going back to their table, where they were soon joined by Will Byers, who’d somehow managed to get a date with Samantha Stone of the art club.

“Oh, God. I can’t believe Wheeler actually brought that retard to the dance.”

“Huh?” I looked up and saw that Mike Wheeler and Jane Hopper talking to Jennifer Hayes. “Oh, I thought she wasn’t retarded she just acts weird because she was in that cult.”

“Oh, please. Do they not teach you how to talk in cults?”

“I mean, maybe they took a vow of silence, I dunno.” And I really didn’t care, except to be irritated that Mike Wheeler and Will Byers were both somehow having a better Homecoming than I was.  

“I bet he’s just using her as cover so he can fuck Will Byers. Do you think Byers’ brother watches?”

I’d finally had enough. “Look, do you just want to go home?”

“What?” She seemed genuinely shocked.

“You clearly didn’t want to come here with me. You spent the first half of the evening hitting on Ellis right in front of me, and now I’m stuck listening to you speculate about homo sex. Let’s just find Chrissy and see if she’ll give us a ride.”

We did find Chrissy, but she didn’t want us to leave. We got a big pep talk about how our first Homecoming would be a memory that we’d cherish forever and all that crap. She turned away to go dance with Jason, leaving me stuck with Angela, who by this point was in a full-on pout.

Desperate, I tried Jonathan Byers, who was known for taking any excuse to get out of a party.

“Hey, uh, my date’s not feeling well. Do you think maybe you could drive us home?”

“Sure.” I breathed a sigh of relief. Getting a ride home early with Jonathan Byers was a pretty shitty way to end your freshman homecoming, but at least it was over. He drove us to the Kirbys and I walked Angela up to her front door, hoping her parents wouldn’t recognize his car, or would mistake it for Jason’s in the dark.

When I got back to the car, he’d turned a tape on.

“What band is this?”

“New Order. So, listen, Will and his friends were going to ditch the dance and go get pizza. You want to come?”

Will Byers wasn’t my first choice of people to hang out with, and my parents definitely wouldn’t approve, but I really didn’t want to come home early and have to face their questioning. They meant well, but it seemed like every time they tried to be helpful, they just made you feel worse about whatever it was.

“Sure…I just have to be home by 11:00.”

“No problem. I’ll get Nancy to drive you. Your parents’ll be fine with her.”

“Thanks. I mean, uh, no offense.”

“None taken. I get that people judge my family, I just figure it’s their loss.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I mean, it works both ways. Sometimes people look great on the surface and turn out to be shitty.”

“Oh, I see what you’re trying to do.”

“Well, I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, and now I guess I’m going to be the laughingstock of the school.”

“Don’t worry about it. Everyone else at the dance was either having a good time, in which case they were too focused on how much of a good time they were having to notice you, or they were having a bad time and they’ll want to avoid talking about anything that happened tonight.”

“You sure?”

“Trust me on this.”

We pulled into the new California-themed pizza place in East Hawkins. Will had already claimed a series of booths, along with the Wheeler siblings and Hopper’s daughter, plus Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair and Max Mayfield, a girl that I vaguely recognized from the marching band, and Steve The Hair, who had at one point been a big man on campus, but burned out his senior year and ended up working a series of dead end jobs after barely graduating.

“How do you know…?” I asked, surprised that he was friends with this crowd.

“Oh, I’ve been Henderson’s babysitter for ages. Isn’t that right Henderson?”

“I wouldn’t say babysitter so much as…assistant monster hunter.”

“Hey, now.”

I didn’t get the joke, but the general atmosphere lifted my spirits. These kids seemed to genuinely like being around each other, unlike a lot of kids in Hawkins who ended up hanging out with people they didn’t really like because it was expected or it would boost their popularity. Me and Angela Kirby, say. Jane was a lot more with it than I expected. Her vocabulary was a little stilted but she could get in a good joke now and then and she didn’t seem at all slow or dull. I decided that Angela had misjudged her, and her problems really were all from the cult. She convinced me to try a ham and pineapple pizza and, while I wouldn’t order it again, I was definitely having more fun than I had at the dance. I was actually a little disappointed when Nancy tapped me on the shoulder and told me it was time to go.

I got home just before my 11:00 curfew. Mom and Dad had already gone upstairs, so I turned out the light and headed for my bedroom. As I reached the landing, I heard retching coming from the hall bathroom. I knew it had to be Chrissy, so I knocked on the door.

“Chrissy, are you okay?”

“Go away, Ryan.” She sounded more upset than sick, so I didn’t press the issue further. By some unspoken agreement, I didn’t bring up her being sick the next day, and she didn’t bring up me leaving early. I figured she must have just gone somewhere with Jason after the dance and had too much to drink, although I had caught her puking a couple of times over the past few months when she wouldn’t have had an opportunity to drink. At one point, I’d thought she might have gotten pregnant, but it had gone on for too long for her to be pregnant without showing. I decided she must just be developing a weak stomach as she got older, and that it was putting her in a crabby mood.

At least, that’s what I thought it was before the assembly. The district had brought in this guidance counselor who was supposed to help kids whose parents or siblings had died in the big fire at the steel mill over the summer. Part of her job was giving these speeches about The Problems Facing Today’s Youth. They were really corny, and I usually sat in the back with Calvin Hooper and made fun of them. But when she started talking about bulimia, I realized that what she was talking about sounded exactly like what was happening to Chrissy.

When the assembly broke up, I made an excuse to get away from Calvin, whose overacted retching suddenly didn’t seem funny, and tried to find Chrissy. When she saw me she looked panicked, and hurried back to class. There was a football game that night, so she didn’t come home after school, and she spent the rest of the weekend avoiding me. I didn’t get a chance to talk to her away from Mom and Dad, and when I finally gave up and knocked on her door, she yelled at me to get lost. That wasn’t like Chrissy, she could be a little overbearing, but was never mean on purpose.

I spent a sleepless Sunday night debating what to do, and finally decided to see the counselor Monday morning. I timed it to go into her office right before lunch, figuring that would be the least conspicuous time, but I ran into Will Byers on my way in. It was clear that he’d had been seeing Ms. Kelley.

“Hi, I, uh, just needed to fix something with my schedule next semester,” I lied.

“Me too, their computers must be on the fritz.”

I decided to take his response at face value, even though given his family history it wouldn’t be at all surprising for him to end up in a shrink’s office. If he wasn’t going to rat on me, I wasn’t going to rat on him.

Ms. Kelley looked up as I entered her office. “Is there something you need to talk about?”

“It’s not about me…”

“You have a ‘friend’ with a problem?” She sounded a little suspicious.

“Sort of, my sister…that talk you gave about eating disorders…I think my sister’s been, uh…making herself sick…I, uh…”

“Your sister’s Chrissy Cunningham, right?”

“Right. You’re not going to tell her I ratted her out, are you?”

“I have to call your parents, but I can just tell them another student expressed concerns.”

“Thanks.”

“I can take it from here, unless there’s anything else on your mind.”

“No, I’d better get to lunch.”

I assumed that I would be too late to get a seat at my usual table, but Byers had saved me a seat.

“Get your schedule cleared up?” I couldn’t tell if he genuinely thought I just had a scheduling mix-up or if this was some sort of reminder that we now shared a dirty little secret.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Kelley’s good with that sort of thing.”

I went straight up to my bedroom after school. I didn’t know if Ms. Kelley had called my Mom yet, or how she’d reacted if she did, but I knew I didn’t want to be downstairs when the shit hit the fan. A few minutes after Chrissy came home, I heard yelling, and then Chrissy’s bedroom door slam. When I came downstairs for dinner, it was obvious that Mom and Chrissy had both been crying, and that whatever Ms. Kelley had said, Chrissy knew that it was me who’d told on her. She glared at me across the table until Mom tried to push a second helping of lasagna on her, at which point she burst into tears and ran away from the table.

“Chrissy,” dad called after her futilely.

“Phillip, we need to talk about Chrissy. Why don’t you go work on your homework, Ryan? I’ll do the dishes.”

Chapter 5: It's The Best Time Of The Year

Max Mayfield – December 20, 1985

I had finished my last exam and just had one more meeting with Ms. Kelley before two weeks of freedom. She got through the Upside Down part pretty quick, as there was nothing to report.

“So, I hear you and your mom have moved into your own place. That must be exciting.”

“Yeah.” The place was actually pretty crummy, but I didn’t want to get into that with Ms. Kelley.

“Is it a little closer to your friends?”

“It’s still pretty far out, but I don’t mind the bus ride. It gives me a chance to listen to music.”

“What have you been listening to?”

“Will and Jonathan have been trying to get me into ‘real music.’ They’re a little snobbish about it, but there’s this one song by Kate Bush called Running Up That Hill that Will introduced me to. It’s about how hard it is to really understand another person.”

“You think it’s hard for people to understand you?”

“Does that sound totally angsty?”

“Not at all.”

“It’s hard to explain…So, when we were in the shelter all the ladies who volunteered there would try to help us with stuff, and some of it was really helpful, like helping my Mom get a job, but sometimes it felt like they were trying to help this idea of me they had in their heads, not the real me.”

“How so?”

“Like, they’d give me their daughters’ old clothes, and it was stuff I’d never wear. Nancy Wheeler wears all these frilly blouses, I honestly don’t know how she moves in them, and sometimes it felt like they were trying to turn me into either Nancy or Chrissy Cunningham. Which, I get, because they’re all middle class happily married housewives – or married anyway – and they probably think they’re doing me a favor by preparing me to be a housewife, but that’s not what I want out of life.”

“What do you want out of life?”

“I don’t know…is that bad?”

“Not at all. Most of the time when people know what they want out of life by the time they’re 15, they change their minds by the time they’re 25. How about your friends?”

“Sometimes it feels like I don’t understand them. When we started high school Lucas and Will all of a sudden decided it was important to ‘fit in,’ and now that Lucas is on the basketball team, he wants me to go to all their games just for the sake of going, and then hang out with the team after the games.” I didn’t go into much detail about what went on at the post-game parties. Ms. Kelley had said that she wouldn’t report that sort of thing to the authorities unless someone was in imminent danger, but I didn’t quite trust her.

“Don’t you want to support him?”

“I would if he were actually getting playing time, but he says they probably aren’t going to put him in until he’s a sophomore. It’s all about being ‘seen’ going to the game to build up ‘school spirit,’ and I don’t get why he cares about any of that crap.”

“Have you tried asking him?”

“No,” I admitted.

“I’m going to give you a homework assignment. Ask Lucas why being popular is important to him. And for extra credit, you can get him to come see me for counseling.”

At first, I tried to cheat on the assignment by getting Will to read Lucas’ mind for me, but he refused.

“You know, Dustin would say you’re asking me to use my powers for evil.”

“It’s not like I’m asking you for his bank account number.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know how much he’s willing to share with you.”

“Oh, see, now you’re helping him keep secrets from me.”

“What? That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Okay, I’ll admit it was a bit of a reach.”

“Ms. Kelley knows I’m psychic, if she’d just wanted to know about Lucas she could have asked me herself. She asked you because you need to actually have the conversation with Lucas to get anywhere.”

“And you’re just assuming she’s right.”

“She does have degrees in this stuff. Plus, I’ve read enough minds to see how miscommunication can screw up a relationship.”

“Fine. I’ll ask Lucas.”

Lucas was waiting for me by the buses. Since he didn’t have practice the last day before break, he had time to walk me home.

“Walk you home?”

“Sure.”

“How was Ms. Kelley?”

“She gave me a homework assignment.”

“Over break? That’s not fair.”

“I’m supposed to ask you why you suddenly care so much about being popular.”

“Oh. So do you and her talk about me a lot?”

“It wasn’t you specifically. It was the four of you. It seems like in eighth grade we were happy to be outcasts and do our own thing, and then like the week before high school started you guys had a meeting and decided we were going to start sitting with the athletes and you were going out for basketball…”

“I’ve always liked basketball. My Dad and I go to a Pacers game every year.”

“So why didn’t you go out for the team in middle school?”

“Troy Walsh was on the team.”

“Really?”

“I mean, he wasn’t like the starting player or anything, but I knew if I tried out it would just be one more chance for him to mess with me.”

“He started messing with you in sixth grade?”

“What did you expect?”

“I dunno, sometimes I forget how much living in a small town means you’re stuck with the same people year after year. So when did it start?”

“I guess the first time I noticed it was in second grade. You know how in elementary school kids invite the whole class to their birthday parties?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, Mindy Novak invited everyone in the class except me.”

“That fucker!”

“To be fair to her, it was probably her parents’ decision. Anyway, Mike asked me what I was getting her, and I had no idea there was even a party. They must have all been told not to talk about it in front of me.”

“So what did Mike do?”

“Threw a temper tantrum and refused to go to the party. His Mom told Mrs. Novak he was sick, but Mindy made it a point to tell him how sorry she was that he didn’t get to come and how great a party it was in front of me, so he called her a butthead and got sent to the principal’s office.”

“That sounds like Mike.”

“You see why Dustin, Will, and I are such good friends with him?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t answer my assignment.”

“I’m not trying to be popular, or at least I’m not trying to be the homecoming king. I’m just trying not to be so unpopular that I get bullied. When people like Hagan see that I’m on the basketball team, it signals that if they mess with me, they’re messing with the entire team, and they pick a weaker target.”

“So the deal is that if I go to the basketball team parties and pretend to be interested in whatever Chrissy Cunningham’s talking about for the next four years, then Tommy Hagan doesn’t call you the n-word to your face?”

“Or try to murder me for dating a white girl.”

“You really think he’d do that?”

“Hagan lives to stir shit up, if he ended up with the right group I could see them egging each other on until something happened. Will and Jonathan agree with me.”

“I guess I can take that deal, then.”

By this point we had reached the outskirts of town, and we walked together without saying anything until we got closer to the trailer park.

“So, when do you leave?” Lucas asked.

“Huh?”

“Weren’t you going to spend Christmas with your dad in California?”

“Oh, yeah, that…something came up.”

“Something came up?” Lucas had an incredulous tone that meant he wasn’t going to stop bugging me until I told him what was really going on.

“Someone, really. Her name is Dana and things are getting pretty serious, but he thinks it’d be awkward, and she has a five-year-old, so he wouldn’t really have time to do stuff with me and he thinks I’d just be bored. So, it’s just going to be me and Mom.” I turned and walked a few paces ahead of Lucas, hoping he wouldn’t see the tears welling in my eyes, but he caught up to me quickly.

“That’s bullshit.”

“I know, it’s just that I promised myself that I wouldn’t get my hopes up about shit like this, but I guess for a while it seemed like things were going well with Mom and I let my guard down, but now she’s drinking again and I don’t think my Dad even told Dana about me and I just feel so fucking stupid!”

In spite of my best efforts, I started sobbing, and Lucas pulled me into a hug. “You’re not stupid Mad Max, and you shouldn’t have to make those promises to yourself.”

Chapter 6: Arms Entwined, The Chosen Few

Jonathan Byers – December 20, 1985

I happened to be the one to pick up the phone when Lucas called.

“Is this an emergency or D&D related?”

“Actually, I have a favor to ask. Do you all have plans for Christmas?”

“Cynthia and Nick are coming over to open presents, and then El and Hopper are coming over for Christmas dinner.”

“Do you think Max and I could come over and hang out between presents and dinner?”

“I thought Max was spending Christmas with her…oh, shit.”

“He’s got a new girlfriend and her Mom’s drinking again, so I don’t think she’s going to be able to put together anything. I asked my parents, but they said Christmas is for family. I don’t get why they’re being so stubborn about it.”

“They think it’s just a teenage crush and they’re hoping you’ll move on before someone makes an issue of the racial thing.”

“Good to know.”

“But they’re fine with you coming over here?”

“My little cousins will make enough commotion that I can sneak out.”

“No, don’t try to sneak out. If your parents catch you doing that on Christmas it’ll make the situation with Max worse. I’ll talk to my mom.”

Mom took a little convincing, but agreed to add the Mayfields to the guest list when Will and I volunteered to do all the cooking. I drove over to the trailer park early Christmas morning to pick them up. Max was actually pretty happy to see me, but her mother was just tired. I was able to get inside her head a little on the drive over, and discovered that she was starting to regret divorcing Neil.

Things were bad last year, but at least I could get Max a Christmas present and I didn’t have to leave her alone on New Years Eve. I worry about what the trailer park is going to be like – especially that Munson kid.

Munson was completely harmless, but I understood where she was coming from – that trailer park probably wasn’t the safest place for a teenage girl. But that was a problem I could fix later – at the moment, my focus was on Nick. He and Cynthia had already arrived by the time we got there, and Mom only gave me five minutes to get the camcorder ready before they started opening Nick’s presents, most of which were from Will and I.

“Oh my God,” Cynthia exclaimed, “how much did you get him?”

“The saleslady at Toys-R-Us wondered what the heck we were doing.” Actually, she had formed the conclusion that I’d gotten some girl pregnant, but fortunately didn’t recognize me as Nancy Wheeler’s boyfriend.

“I hope you didn’t spend too much money.”

“Don’t worry, the government gave us both end of year bonuses.”

Suddenly, Mom was worried. “They weren’t for anything…dangerous were they?”

“I think they were just for dealing with Alexei and Mayor Kline.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

“Because I told Owens I didn’t want…”

“Mom, I’m positive.”

“Ok. Oh, Cynthia, ‘Santa’ got Nick some onesies. I know when they’re this age it seems like every time you turn around they’ve gone up a size.”

Fortunately, this was a conversation that Susan could actually contribute to, and she relaxed a little. Max was starting to hang back, feeling left out of the family occasion. Will noticed and retrieved Max’s present from under the tree.

“This is from Jonathan and me.”

“We put together a mixtape for you,” I explained, “it’s got some Kate Bush, Siouxsie Sioux, the Talking Heads…”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, wait.” Mom suddenly remembered what she’d been meaning to give Max. “Billy sent you a package addressed to the shelter. Here you go.” She retrieved a very poorly wrapped present which Max opened to reveal a skateboard magazine.

“Wow, he actually got me a present.”

An envelope fell out of the magazine and fluttered down to the floor.

“There’s a note with it,” I pointed out.

Max picked the envelope up and examined it briefly before putting it in her jacket. I knew it was time for Will and I to start working on dinner, so I went into the kitchen. Will soon followed, giving Max a chance to read the letter in relative privacy while Mom, Susan, and Cynthia made a fuss over Nick.

We had splurged on a real spiral-cut ham, with mashed potatoes that were a little less lumpy than the ones Mom made. Hopper and El brought gingerbread cookies for dessert, and they were there for a whole three hours before Mike showed up. I found his restraint more admirable than Hopper did, and him being there gave me an opportunity to telepathically arrange something for Max while making Mike take some pictures of Will and I with Nick.

Do you think you could swing an invite for Max to your parents’ New Years Eve Party?

“I think Nick might have been blinking in that one.”

“Okay, I’ll do one more.”

I don’t know, My mom uses that party to show off and Max’s Mom isn’t exactly part of the in crowd.

She has to work New Year’s Eve, so you’d only need to get an invite for Max.

Does Max not have plans?

If she does, she hasn’t thought about them when I’ve been listening in. Susan’s worried about her being alone in the trailer park that night.

What, because of Munson? Mike mentally rolled his eyes.

“Okay, now let’s do one with Will holding him.”

I mean, yeah. But Munson aside she’s going to be miserable all alone on New Year’s Eve, and Lucas is going to be at your parents’ party.

You know it’s like, stuffy and formal.

Nancy’s given me a very thorough rundown.

Right, you’re coming too.

And Will and El. Mom is Hopper’s date. So it’ll be the whole ‘party.’

Except Dustin. And we won’t be able to hang out in the basement because Mom and Dad want me to make a good impression on their friends.

You would think that ship had sailed by this point.

Har-de-har-har. Mom knows I hate the party, so I might be able to guilt trip her.

Mention the trailer park, that ought to pull on her charitable heartstrings.

The mention of the trailer park must have worked, because the word got passed around that Max would be welcome to show up as Lucas’ plus-one. Her mom dropped Max off at our place on her way to work, which gave her an opportunity for some one-on-one time with El before we had to leave for the party. El was a little overexcited, as it was her first real party (she never got invited to the high school parties, which Hopper and Mike were both just fine with), and I think Max was trying to tamp down her expectations while Hopper helped Will and I get our ties on right.

Everyone who was anyone in Hawkins was at the party. Frank Sattler, the Harringtons, Pastor Charles, and Mayor and Mrs. Kline, neither of whom was in the mood for a party. The Mayor’s spending habits were starting to catch up to him now that he no longer had Russian bribes coming in, which was putting a strain on both his marriage and his overall mental health. To make matters worse, Winnie Kline had discovered Larry’s affair with his secretary, and was outraged that he’d started flirting with Mrs. Giordano, who was rumored to be having marital problems of her own, at the party.

I’d watch it if I were you. Your wife doesn’t seem very happy.

Oh, what the hell is she going to do?

Doesn’t she know a lot more than she’s supposed to?

Who’s she going to tell? That crank that took over the Post?

All the same. Before I could get any further, Nancy pulled me away to introduce me to one of party guests who’d driven out from Bloomington. He was the general counsel at the medical device company where Mr. Wheeler was the Vice President for marketing, and had a southern accent and a firm handshake.

“Pleased to meet you, Jonathan.”

“The pleasure’s all mine.” I could tell from reading his mind that he regarded me with the usual condescension that successful middle-aged men have for teenaged boys with longish hair, but hadn’t heard what most Hawkins residents had heard about the Byers family.

“So, Jonathan, I guess you’re starting to think about college.”

“I’m hoping to get into New York University.”

“New York University, huh.” Why the hell does this kid want to go away to New York. You can get a perfectly fine education at IU. I should know…

“Their photography program is very well regarded.” Photography. Hmph. This kid’s probably going to end up waiting tables with a master’s degree. Either that or my tax dollars are going to end up going to grants for him to take dirty pictures and put them up in art galleries.

I nudged Nancy, her signal to bail me out.

“Jonathan has a job as a photographer for the Hawkins Post. His picture of the town Christmas parade made the front page last week.”

Well, if he’s got a job at a newspaper, maybe he does have a head on his shoulders after all. Still don’t see why he has to go away to New York. “Impressive. You’ll have to come over sometime and show me how to work the Polaroid my kids got me for Christmas.”

He shared a chuckle with his wife, and Nancy suggested that he try her mother’s stuffed mushrooms, then moved me on to the next guest. This continued for a couple of hours, until we had finally exhausted all the guests Nancy wanted to impress and went to go find the kids. El had quickly become intimidated by the crowd and retreated to a corner, where Mike was trying to pay as much attention to her as possible in between being forced to make polite conversation with people his mother wanted to impress. The other kids had formed a protective cordon around her that quickly turned into the kid’s section of the party. Max smiled at me as I approached.

“Thanks for swinging me the invite.”

“You weren’t really supposed to know I swung it.”

“Yeah, well El didn’t get the memo.”

“I wasn’t supposed to tell Max?”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s….it’s complicated.”

Mike managed to extricate himself from the forced sociability, and we made small talk about school while having a slightly more serious conversation in our heads.

Where’s Henderson?

On Cerebro with Suzie. Her parents don’t let her stay up until midnight, so they’re counting down on the radio when it turns midnight here.

That’s sweet…I guess.

Sure.

We were interrupted by a commotion coming from the living room. It turned out that Mayor Kline had failed to heed my advice and Winnie had caught him with his hand down Mrs. Giordano’s skirt.

“You cheating bastard!” she attempted to throw her drink at him, but he ducked, and the zinfandel landed on a very confused Ted Wheeler.

Kline, who had been to the bathroom to ‘powder his nose’ a couple of times by this point, was enraged.

“Look what you did!”

“What I did? What I did? What about what you did? You have some nerve humiliating me like this when one call to the Post could ruin you!”

“Ruin me? How? What are you going to tell them?”

I realized that this had the potential to be worse than a ruined party, and started trying to make my way through the crowd to somehow shut Winnie up, but the party guests were all transfixed by the drama, and it was hard to elbow my way through.

“I’ll tell them all about your little cooperation agreement with the feds. I’m sure that when that crank who runs the Post runs a story that the Hawkins Lab was a secret CIA plot to train psychic children to spy on the Russians that accidentally opened a portal to an evil dimension it’ll get picked up by every newspaper in the country…” There went the rest of my break. “…and I’ll make damn sure that he prints that you took bribes from the Russians to let them set up a secret underground base in the mall.”

Hopper realized what was happening and tried to stop it. “Winnie, I don’t think you’re thinking clearly.”

“Oh, I’m perfectly clear Hopper. You may have thought I was some dumb bitch who couldn’t see what was in front of her eyes, but I’ve figured it all out. I figured out that the fire was a cover story, and all those people were killed by a monster the Russians let escape.”

Ellen Lowe, whose husband Bruce was one of the flayed, gasped.

“I figured out Joyce Maldonado’s kids were in the experiments and they can read minds. That’s why they’ve been crawling all over our house for the past six months, to make sure you hold up your end of the deal you made so you wouldn’t go to prison.”

“Winnie…” Mrs. Wheeler was trying to calm her down, but it wasn’t working.

“Karen, you don’t understand. Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to come downstairs in the morning and find your husband being interrogated by Lonnie Byers faggot son?”

“Winnie!” My mom was angry now, and the last thing we needed now was her getting into the mix, so I stepped between her and Winnie.

“Mom, just let it go.”

Winnie wasn’t helping. “No, Joyce. I’m telling the truth, see.” She grabbed my wrist with surprising strength, and, before I could react, rubbed off the concealer, holding up my tattoo for everyone at the party to see just as the clock struct midnight.

Kline, who had been momentarily stunned into silence by the tirade, recovered enough to make a retort, which only made my problem worse.

“Yeah, well guess what bitch, Hopper and the new guy at the Post are both working with the feds. So good luck getting your little expose published.” He stormed out of the house, and Hopper quietly offered to drive a sobbing Winnie home.

The atmosphere of the party had been thoroughly deflated by this point, and most of the guests filtered out with awkward goodbyes. We were stuck there, since Hopper had driven us. Mr. Wheeler was trying to figure out the implications of his daughter’s boyfriend being a CIA-trained mind-reader, while his wife was horrified that the display – more appropriate to the trailer park where Max lived than Maple Street – would undermine her social cachet.

“Don’t worry,” I assured her, “No one is going to blame you for this. They’ll tell the story as the time Winnie Kline went nuts at Karen Wheeler’s party. It’ll get folded into the Kline gossip and you’ll feature as an innocent victim.”

“You’re sure?” She was on the verge of tears.

“I’m positive. You don’t think I wasn’t working during all that, do  you?”

Karen was relieved, but Mr. Wheeler was only more worried. “So you’ve been reading our minds this whole time and not told us?”

“We were supposed to keep the whole thing classified,” I reminded him, “and the, uh, monster Mrs. Kline was talking about possesses people, sort of like The Excorcist. Mind-reading is the only way to find someone who’s been possessed before it’s too late, so we need to monitor the population in case it comes back.”

“I guess that can’t be helped. So the CIA, they’re paying you?”

“Technically, I’m employed by the Department of Energy. It’s General Schedule, with federal health and pension, plus whatever salary I earn in my cover job.” This seemed to mollify Mr. Wheeler, and I decided to go for broke.

“Mr. Wheeler, I know you worry about me dating Nancy, and I probably would too in your position. Believe me, if I thought someone was going to treat my child the way my father treated my mother, I’d probably chase them off the porch with a shotgun, but I promised myself when I was ten years old that I’d never, ever be like my father, and I can make that same promise to you now.”

“Shake on it?”

I gripped Mr. Wheeler’s hand firmly, and his worries seemed to dissolve.

“Now, I should probably change out of this shirt.”

Mrs. Wheeler sighed. “And it was brand new. Maybe if I use bleach I can get the stains out.”

Chapter 7: Nothing Changes On New Year's Day

Steve Harrington – January 1, 1986

I had spent New Year’s Eve with the upperclassmen on the basketball team at Benny’s, reasoning that being the washed up jock who still hung around with high school students was less embarrassing than tagging along with my parents like I was eight years old and they couldn’t get a sitter. Apparently, I’d missed quite the show, as Mom and Dad were too busy discussing it to berate me for being hungover when I came downstairs for coffee the next morning.

“You don’t think it’s true what she said about the Russians and monsters, do you?” I nearly spit out my coffee. If this was what it sounded like, then it was bad.

“I know it sounds far-fetched, but where else would the Byers kid have gotten that tattoo?”

“What tattoo?”

“He had the number 14 tattooed on his wrist,” Mom explained. “I saw it clear as day. Winnie Kline showed it to the whole party.”

“Wait, how does Winnie Kline know about this?”

“Well, apparently Larry was taking bribes from the Russians to build some sort of secret base in the mall, and the feds found out about it when the unleashed a monster that set fire to the steel mill and killed all those people – I guess it was something like Godzilla.”

“Martha,” Dad cautioned, “Do you think we need to be telling Steve about this?”

“Well, we’re supposed to be having the Wheelers and the Klines for dinner. I can’t imagine it won’t come up.”

Dad rolled his eyes. “I sincerely doubt that the Klines will actually show up.”

“The Wheelers will, Karen called to confirm this morning. She specifically asked if Steve was coming, so you’d better get yourself presentable,” she finished with a pointed look in my direction.

There it was. Even the revelation of Hawkins’ darkest secrets wasn’t enough to keep them from picking on me. I drained my coffee and went upstairs, hoping that a hot shower would cure my hangover. It alleviated it partially. I had just gotten dressed and was walking downstairs when the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it.” I opened the door to find Hopper and Jonathan Byers on my front steps. “Is this about last night?”

“What did they tell you?” Hopper asked.

“Apparently Godzilla burned down the steel mill.”

“We need to talk to them.”

“Yeah…they’re right inside.” I led Hopper and Jonathan back to the kitchen, where Mom was preparing the lamb for dinner. Mom seemed a bit nervous to greet them.

“Jim! What a surprise, and you brought…?”

“Jonathan.”

“Martha, we need you and Bob to sign a non-disclosure agreement.”

“Bob!” Mom called out “Come downstairs! The police want us to sign something.” She turned back to Hopper. “You didn’t drive your police car here did you?”

“I did, why?”

“I just don’t want anyone to see the police parked out front and think…you know.” She nodded her head toward me in an obvious gesture to my suspected criminality.

“If anyone asks me about it, I’ll tell them…you volunteer with that women’s shelter, don’t you?”

“I went to one of Karen’s fundraisers.”

“Ok, so you’re a donor. I’ll tell them we had a domestic overnight and I came by to see if you could help out with it.”

Just then, Dad came into the room. “What’s all this about?”

“We need you to sign a form promising that you won’t tell anyone what you heard last night, or you’ll go to prison for ten years for disclosing classified information.”

“Is that what you’re doing to Winnie?”

“No, Winnie never signed the form and doesn’t have a security clearance, so she’s in something of a legal gray area. Right now she’s at the Motel 6 with Will going through her memories to see if she’s told anyone else.”

“It sounds like signing this is going to put me in a lot of legal risk.”

“If you don’t sign it, they’re going to use extralegal methods.”

“Still, I’d like to talk to my lawyer first.”

“Your lawyer’s Chuck Sinclair, right?”

“Yes.”

“We just came from his house. You can call him if you want, but he’s just going to tell you the same thing I did.”

Dad did call Mr. Sinclair, and he told them the same thing Hopper had, so they reluctantly signed the forms.

“Is there anything else?” Dad asked.

“Yes,” Jonathan answered, “We have permission from the CIA to explain Steve’s involvement in this now that you’ve signed the forms.”

“Steve was involved in this?” My dad asked skeptically.

“He’s not in any trouble, is he?” Mom added, just to make sure I knew how low their opinion of me was.

“No, he’s not in trouble. He’s working with us. The first time a monster escaped from the lab was November of 1983. It took my brother and Barbara Holland.” Jonathan didn’t mention where Barb had been taken, and I realized he was doing me a big favor. He must have seen how disappointed  my parents were in me, what with the whole telepathy thing, and was editing the story to make me look good. “Nancy and I tried to track it down, and ended up luring it to my house. Steve happened to drop by to bring me a camera I’d left at school right before it showed up, and he fought it off. He saved my life, actually. The next year there was another release around Halloween, and he fought off several of the monsters with Lucas Sinclair, Dustin Henderson, and Max Mayfield. Steve’s been officially employed by the Department of Energy since this past summer.”

“I thought he was working at that ice cream place that makes him dress up like a goddamn clown.”

“That’s a cover. We need to keep the mall under surveillance.”

“He can’t get a cover surveilling a college somewhere, can he?”

“We’d like to keep him local for the next few years. Maybe he can start at Tech and think about transferring to IU.”

“You know, I went to Northwestern.”

“Yeah, you might have mentioned it a time or two. If there’s nothing else, we’ll be on our way. We’ve got to get through everyone who was at the party and then file a report for Langley.”

They left, and Mom decided not to mention what they’d said as she gave me directions to help get ready for the New Year’s dinner. We were hosting the Wheelers and the Cunninghams, who hadn’t been at the party last night, which meant that we couldn’t say anything. The conversation was pretty strained as a result, and mainly consisted of listening to Chrissy babble on about high school.

I didn’t get the real story until Will Byers and his boyfriend showed up at Scoops Ahoy with the goal of sneaking into a matinee of Enemy Mine.

“Woah, woah woah. You two aren’t getting anywhere until you tell me what the hell happened on New Year’s Eve.”

“Winnie Kline suspected her husband of cheating,” Will explained, “so she went through his papers while he was at work and found the cooperation agreement, which had everything about him working with the Russians, the Upside Down, and Jonathan and my powers. She caught him hitting on Liz Giordano at the party, and that was the last straw. The good news is that she didn’t tell anyone before the party.”

“So what are they doing now?”

“Kline’s on pretty thin ice with the government. She’s going to get half his assets in the divorce, but I wouldn’t want to be either of them now.”

“Oh yeah, they got a new government guy breathing down our necks. What’s his name?”

“Sullivan. He’s military, a total hardass. He thinks they ought to be making witnesses disappear instead of relying on NDAs.”

“Aren’t we witnesses?”

“We should be pretty safe. The government doesn’t kill it’s own employees without a very good reason. Your parents and the Wheelers are probably in more danger.”

“Well, that’s just great.” I was actually getting along better with my parents than I had in a while. They hadn’t directly acknowledged me having an actual job, but the snide comments about my lack of “motivation” had suddenly stopped and family dinners were much less awkward than they had been. Meanwhile, business at Scoops Ahoy was slow, so I had plenty of time to chat with my babysittees whenever they came in.

The first to drop by was Mayfield, on a date with Sinclair. They ordered a Root Beer Afloat to share, occupied a booth, and waved me over.

“What is it?” I was worried that they’d seen something, or one of the party guests had blabbed.

“Billy sent me a letter over Christmas,” Mayfield explained, “he said to tell you he’s sorry about everything.”

“Really? That’s surprising from him.”

“Apparently his mom’s been making him see a psychiatrist. He said he was really resistant to it at first but over time he’s realized that he was turning into his dad. He says he had all this anger in him that should have been directed to his dad, but he felt safer directing at whoever was nearby that couldn’t fight back, but that made him angry at himself and it just kept spiraling.”

“Wow, that’s a hell of a shrink.”

“I know.”

“Speaking of which…”

“We’re not speaking of that.”

“…Kelly tells me you’re holding out on her.”

“I tell her everything she needs to hear.”

I looked to Sinclair for help, but his facial expression was totally blank. This must have been how he was able to keep his relationship with Mayfield going longer than I’ve ever managed a relationship. “Thanks for all your help,” I muttered.

“This float is delicious.”

“Sure. Next time you seen Henderson, tell him not to be such a stranger.” Sinclair’s facial expression got a lot less blank, and Mayfield rolled her eyes. “Wait, what’s the matter with Henderson?”

“Hellfire Club.”

“Hellfire? You mean that cult Eddie Munson runs?”

“It’s not a cult, they play D&D.”

“D&D? That board game you kids play where you pretend to be like, elves or whatever? And sometimes Byers wears a purple wizard’s outfit?" I wanted to make sure Dustin thought that I didn't know anything about the game. "That’s what Eddie Munson’s been doing this whole time?”

“What did you think he was doing?”

“I don’t know, sacrificing babies to Satan or something.”

“Wait,” Mayfield asked, “where did you think he was getting babies to sacrifice?”

“That’s not the point!” Sinclair interjected, “the point is, Munson’s been monopolizing more and more of Dustin’s time, and when Mike and Will asked if they could move it to Thursdays on the weeks we have away games, Munson kicked them out of the club.”

“So what did Henderson do?”

“He sided with Munson.”

“Jesus Christ. I’ll talk to him.”

“Thanks.”

The conversation, once I could track Henderson down, did not go well. Apparently I was still stuck in “the false construct of popularity,” and jealous that Henderson had found another “older male role model.”

“Okay, first of all, I’m going to need you to work on your phrasing.”

“You don’t think this has anything to do with jealousy on your part?”

“No, what would I be jealous of?”

“That I’m interested in D&D and music instead of the sports stuff you cared about in high school.”

“Pfft…you call that music.”

“Pretty judgemental for someone with a Teena Marie cassette in his car.”

“Hey, that was Robin’s.”

“Sure.”

“And the reason I’m siding with Byers and Wheeler on this is that I know how important it is to Sinclair.”

“It’s just bouncing a ball up and down, and people act like it’s important because we live in a shallow, status-obsessed society where…”

“It’s important because Sinclair’s good at it. I was good at it. Look, do you remember how you felt when you bombed that Latin test?”

“Who told you about that?”

“It’s not relevant. The point is, I felt like that after pretty much every test I took starting in first grade. You know, I couldn’t read until fifth grade; I still can’t spell for shit.”

“That sounds like dyslexia, have you ever…”

“…and the other kids knew it. I know you think I was always Mr. Popularity, but I actually got made fun of pretty bad in elementary school. My only friend was Byers’ older brother, believe it or not.”

“And then you abandoned him once you got good at sports and started going to parties and shit with the cool kids.”

“Did Byers tell you that?”

“Will did. Apparently Jonathan was pretty upset about it at the time.”

“Well, that’s not quite the whole story.”

“Does the whole story make you look good?”

“No, it makes me look like I abandoned my friend when he needed me.”

“Which is exactly what Lucas is doing to me!”

“No, it’s what you’re doing to him. He needs that feeling of stepping off the court and knowing that he got good at something he worked really hard at.”

“Lucas gets good grades.”

“Okay, but are his parents proud of him when he comes home with good grades or do they just expect them?”

“They expect them, I guess.”

“And he doesn’t have a talent like you with radios or Byers with art or…whatever it is that Wheeler’s good at.”

“He’s our Dungeon Master. It’s like, creative writing is probably the closest thing you’d understand.”

“And your radio stuff is the closest thing you’d understand to basketball with Lucas. If you’re ditching his games to play the same old board games, you’re basically telling him that the stuff he’s good at is bullshit.”

“It is bullshit. What do they want me to do, spend the rest of high school cheering for Lucas’ games and sitting between Will and Jason at lunch so people don’t notice them together? And then they can all go party with the athletes while I get thirty minutes with Suzie on Cerebro before her dad orders her to go to bed and then spend the rest of the evening watching Murder She Wrote on the couch with my mom.”

“You could try, like, going to parties and talking to people.”

“You don’t understand.” Henderson walked off in a huff. He was right. I didn’t understand what he was talking about, but I did have a sudden urge to apologize to Jonathan Byers.

Chapter 8: Will You Be My Valentine?

Mike Wheeler – February 12, 1986

After getting kicked out of Hellfire, I started buying my weed from Argyle at the Surfer Boy pizza. His shit was actually better than Munson’s. He had some sort of connection in California that shipped a strain he called Palm Tree Purple Delight hidden in the pizza dough. We developed a routine where we’d show up once per month on Wednesday evening, when the place was super dead, and order an ‘extra special’ ham and pineapple pizza. Fortunately, El actually liked pineapple on pizza, and she ate most of it while I nibbled at one slice.

“So, Valentine’s Day is Friday…” she hinted.

“And, Hopper is taking Mrs. Byers to Enzo’s for a fancy romantic dinner. Which means we’ll have your house all to ourselves until he gets back.”

“Why are they going to Enzo’s again? Why don’t they just come here?”

“Well, you’re supposed to take your girlfriend somewhere fancy on Valentine’s Day.”

“Are you?” El smiled.

“Shit. How did I walk into that?”

“I led you into it.”

“Huh?”

“Max taught me.”

“Well, she’s not getting any of this, then.” I nodded towards my backpack, which contained a month’s supply for the Party.

“She said you were probably going to want to stay home and screw while Hop was out and that I deserved a romantic evening.”

“So what are she and Lucas doing?”

“Lucas has a game, and then they’re going to Enzo’s. Max made him promise that he was going to take her somewhere romantic instead of partying with the basketball team.”

“Well, we can’t go there. Hopper isn’t going to want his kid around while he’s on a date.”

“We could go somewhere in the mall.”

“How about this. I pick you up around five, we catch an early movie, then eat at that fern bar on the second level and then we go home.”

El smiled. “It’s a date.”

I broke the news to Lucas when I met up with him and Will the next day before school. “So, um, I know you have a basketball game Friday, and it’s important to be there to support the team and all, but El really wants to go on a romantic date, and.”

“You were planning to go to her place right after the game and get it on.”

“You’ve been talking to Max.”

“With whom I will be spending a lovely evening at Enzo’s along with every married couple in Hawkins who can’t afford the restaurants in Bloomington, including, apparently, Hopper and Will’s Mom. So Will will be…”

“Having sex with my hot boyfriend while you losers blow half your paychecks on overcooked lasagna.”

“Come on, Will. If we win this we’re in the tournament.”

“And if I wait until after the game, odds are my Mom and Hopper will walk in right in the middle of…”

“Ok, ok, you’ve made your point.”

“I get that Valentine’s Day isn’t great timing,” Lucas admitted, “maybe there’s another way you can support the team.”

“What?”

Lucas looked around to make sure no one was listening in. “You know Patrick McKinney?”

“Senior? Point guard?”

“Yeah, so I think he might have a situation at home.”

“What kind of a situation?”

“Similar to Mr. Hargrove, or uh…”

“My Dad?” Will finished his sentence for him.

“Yeah. Can you maybe talk to your moms?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

I brought it up at dinner.

“So, you know that shelter you volunteer at?”

“The women’s shelter? Michael, why are you worried about…”

“There’s a kid on the basketball team, Patrick.”

“He hasn’t gotten some girl in trouble,” Dad interjected pointlessly, “Has he?”

“No, Dad!”

“It’s not that kind of shelter,” Nancy explained.

“I know, I know. Right to the moon. I just figured they might take both types of cases.”

“Can I…” I was almost going to day ‘finish a goddamn sentence?’ but I knew that would set them both off about being ‘disrespectful.’ For a couple that didn’t love each other, they had a lot in common sometimes. “…Lucas thinks Patrick’s father may be abusing him.”

“What’s abusing?” Holly asked innocently.

“Nothing, sweetie.”

“Have you talked to Ms. Kelley?” Nancy asked.

“I’ve been avoiding Ms. Kelley all year.”

“Well, you were supposed to talk to her.”

“Who is Ms. Kelley?” Dad asked, again pointlessly.

“The guidance counselor at the high school,” Mom explained, “they hired her after all the deaths last summer.”

“Does she know about all the…unpleasantness we learned about on New Year’s Eve.”

“She works for the government,” Nancy explained. “We’re supposed to talk to her if we have any traumatic feelings related to…everything that happened.”

“Which I don’t.” I insisted, and then immediately felt guilty about it. I knew Nancy had it harder than me. My best friend had come back from the Upside Down, but hers hadn’t and she’d felt terribly guilty about it for years afterwards. I was pretty sure that Nancy was getting therapy from Ms. Kelley, but I avoided talking about it. She’d want to turn the conversation back around to my problems, which seemed ridiculously petty compared to hers. I didn't want a conversation about her dead best friend to turn into me whining about my fight with Dustin or my fears, which I knew were somewhat irrational, that Mom and Dad would get divorced.

Truthfully, there was no one I could talk to. Max, Will and Jonathan, and even Dustin had it way worse in the parents’ department than I did, and Lucas’ parents had the kind of genuinely loving relationship that my parents wanted everybody to think they had, so I didn’t think he’d understand. Besides, the argument with Dustin was weighing on him just as heavily as it was on me, and bringing it up would make things worse for him. Talking to El was completely out of the picture. Her problems were so much worse than mine that it would almost be insulting to bring mine up, and there was always the danger that she would misunderstand what I was trying to say and try to fix things with some plot she’d cribbed from a sitcom. So I had kept everything to myself, occasionally berating myself for being such a baby about it. But I figured it was reasonable of me to expect some parental support when it came to a friend of a friend who was having real problems.

 “The women’s center isn’t really set up to take third party referrals,” Mom explained, “but I have a business card. Maybe you can slip it into his locker or something.”

It wasn’t much of a plan, but it fulfilled my obligation to Lucas. The point was moot, because Will had come up with a better plan anyway.

“I’ll talk to Ms. Kelley about it Monday. She can either talk to Patrick herself or do another one of her assemblies. Speaking of which, how is Chrissy?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think Jason knows anything is wrong.”

“Isn’t he, like, over the moon in love with her?”

“Rose-tinted glasses.”

“Oh.”

The date actually went pretty well, once I’d convinced the waiter I was actually capable of paying for dinner (Personally, I thought $30.00 was a bit steep for two people who didn’t order drinks or appetizers, but I guess we were paying for the service). We got back to El’s place with plenty of time to kill before Hopper would be back, and had a much better time just the two of us than we had at the mall.

I was still in a great mood the next morning, and called Will and Lucas to come over and share some Palm Tree Purple Delight.

“This shit’s great,” Lucas announced after taking a drag from the joint we were passing around.

“Yeah, way better than that ditch weed we used to buy off Munson,” Will agreed.

“And Munson was always trying to get me to do, like, hard shit.” I added.

Lucas passed the joint to Will and started giggling.

“What?” I asked.

“Do you think he ever got Dustin high?”

Will took a long drag on the joint and looked thoughtful. “I hope so.”

“Huh?”

“I mean, I hope he’s having fun. He was always, like, the most awkward of the four of us, so like, I hope things are going well for him and Munson and they’re like, friends and shit.”

Suddenly, the mood in the room turned melancholy.

“Did you ever, like, read Dustin’s mind?” Lucas asked.

“Yeah.”

“So, like, what’s his deal?”

“His dad leaving traumatized him, and he knows that to some extent his disability is always going to make it hard for him to fit in. He’s afraid of rejection. That’s why he was so insistent on the rules of the Party for resolving fights when we were kids. He was scared that the friend group would break up and leave him lonely. It’s also why he latches onto older male role models.”

“Boy, he sure knows how to pick role models,” Lucas muttered.

“Hellfire was what attracted him to Munson. When we started having relationships and broadening our social circles a little it scared Dustin. He knows that would be harder for him than any of us, and he felt like we were abandoning him to go be popular. The Hellfire Club is a bunch of permanent rejects, so he feels safer from abandonment with them.”

“Did you try, like, talking to him about this shit.”

“Yeah. When Munson kicked us out of Hellfire. He got defensive, and I think I just made it worse.”

“Fuck.”

“I mean, I guess we couldn’t expect that the four of us would stay best friends forever,” I rationalized. “Nobody keeps the same four friends all through childhood. Hell, Jonathan and Steve used to be best friends.”

“Really?”

Will backed me up. “Yeah, they’d all play D&D with Nancy and Barb and Jason Carver. They taught Mike and I how to play before we showed you and Dustin.”

“Jason played D&D?”

“Until they were like, 11. His mom saw some story on the news about some kid who supposedly started thinking D&D was real and went crazy, so she made him quit. I guess Jonathan quit around the same time.”

“That was when things started getting really bad between my parents,” Will explained. “There was some sort of accident at the lab and they cut Dad’s hours.”

“And then Barb…” my voice trailed off as I was hit by a pang of guilt, which Will must have noticed.

“Anyway, we’re lucky that the three of us are still friends.”

“Yeah.”

We sat together at Kelley’s next assembly. She’d taken Will’s advice and brought Jason’s mom in to give a presentation about the women’s center, and where kids could go if their parents were abusing them. Naturally, Jason was dying of embarrassment, so when I first heard giggling coming from behind me, I assumed it was at his expense. I was wrong. Lucas nudged me and pointed to Angela Kirby and Jake Fletcher, her boyfriend. Jake pointed to Will and then whispered something to Angela, who started giggling.

Before I could react I felt Will in my head. Don’t react. That’ll make it worse. They’re looking for you to make a scene so they can get attention, and then it’ll be all they talk about for the rest of the year.

I balled my hands into fists under the seat and sat there for the rest of the presentation, staring rigidly ahead so as not to catch Angela or Jake’s eye. They made it difficult, being intentionally as loud as they could without getting caught by a teacher. After what felt like hours, Kelley finally dismissed the assembly and we started making our way up the aisle of the auditorium.

We were blocked by Angela and Jake, and they’d brought backup in the form of Tommy Hagan. Of course, he would have taken them under his wing.

“Hey, Byers,” Jake taunted, “You want me to tell Kelly about your Dad. I hear he used to smack you around pretty good. Pity he couldn’t beat the fag out of you.” The three of them guffawed.

“No,” Hagan said, “his dad’s probably as queer as he is. I bet that’s what really happened when he ‘got lost in the woods’ Daddy was teaching him everything he knows about sucking cock. And big brother Jonathan made sure to get the whole thing on film. How much did you make for those pictures, huh Byers?”

There was something pathetic about Hagan being reduced to scrambling for laughs from a couple of freshmen, but that didn’t make me any less angry. “Fuck off, Hagan!”

This gave Angela an opportunity. “What’s the matter, Wheeler. Are you jealous that your boyfriend got laid before you did?”

Max came to my rescue with a good comeback. “I’m really proud of you guys for being brave enough to share your sexual fantasies with the world, but maybe if it would be better if you saved it for a letter to Penthouse instead of blocking everybody’s path. We’re going to be late for class.”

Hagan sputtered, trying to come up with a retort. While he was doing so, Jason pushed through the crowd to get to us. He made it just as Hagan finally came up with a comeback.

“I’d be nicer to me if I were you. I could tell the whole school about what Billy found you and Harrington up to…”

“What the hell is going on here?” Jason demanded.

“We were just telling Will…”

“Leave him alone!”

“Why do you care?” Angela probably didn’t mean that as a challenge to Jason’s sexuality (Will had assured us that she had no idea), but he certainly took it that way. He stepped back, threatened, and there was a moment of deathly silence.

“Because…because my mom worked hard on that speech, and you’re just using it as an excuse to make fun of the people she was trying to help! You can’t take anything seriously. Everything’s just another excuse for you to be jerks.”

The commotion was starting to attract attention from teachers, so Hagan, Kirby, and Fletcher slunk off. We quickly dispersed, not wanting to attract attention from Ms. Kelley.

El squeezed my hand nervously. “Is Will going to be okay?”

“Yeah. It’s nothing to worry about. They’re just a bunch of mouth-breathers. Ignore them.”

I was fully aware that I wasn’t taking my own advice.

Chapter 9: It's Okay Not To Be Okay, Part 1

Lynn Kelley – March 21, 1986

I had supposed it was only a matter of time before Mike Wheeler ended up in my office, but I thought the day before Spring Break was spectacularly bad timing. It was officially a disciplinary referral for fighting, but it looked like he hadn’t slept for a few days.

“So, do you want to explain what happened?”

“She had to do this fucking stupid project for her social studies class about her ‘personal hero,’ and she picked her dad…”

“Brenner?”

“No, Hopper. And she got really excited about it, and wouldn’t let me help her with it. Apparently, when she got up to do the presentation Angela Kirby started making fun of her and then on her way out to lunch Kirby tripped her so she dropped the diorama and Jake Fletcher stepped on it and crushed her little Hopper figurine.”

“And you thought the best way to handle this was punching Fletcher in the face?”

“Just let me explain. They’ve been messing with her all semester and when he stepped on the figurine she just lost it. She was walking toward them with her hand out like…”

“She was going to use her powers?”

“In front of the whole cafeteria. I was doing what I was supposed to, keeping a lid on things.”

“That’s a rather unorthodox method of keeping a lid on things.”

“Look, I know you have to give me detention, but can you please just make it start after Spring Break? Lucas really wants us to show up for the game.”

“I have a better idea than detention. Clearly, if you’re hauling off and punching a kid for making fun of your girlfriend, you have anger issues that you need to work through with a counselor.”

Michael sighed, “You’re kidding me.”

“You kids were all supposed to set up an appointment with me at the beginning of the school year,” I reminded him, “but you didn’t because you thought kids would make fun of you for seeing a counselor and you convinced Owens that it would raise awkward questions. Now you’ve created a perfect answer for those questions. Every Thursday, after school, starting when you come back from Spring Break and continuing at least through the end of the school year.”

When he left, I still had a few minutes before my next appointment, so I went ahead and made the call home. Mrs. Wheeler answered.

“Is something the matter with Mike?”

“Well, there has been a fight. Mrs. Wheeler, is your husband home?”

“No. Was it about…?”

“Yes. Another student was bullying Jane and Michael hit him.”

“Ugh, I told him…”

“Because it was provoked, I can keep it off his permanent record, but I’m making him see me for ‘counseling’ sessions. I would recommend you not tell your husband.”

“I can do that. Uh, while I have you, have you been working with Maxine Mayfield?”

“Well, as a counselor, I’m really supposed to keep that information confidential, but as a CIA officer, I can tell you that she’s been coming into my office to report on anything unusual she’s seen.”

“And has she seen anything?”

“No, is there something I should ask her about?”

“It’s not anything…supernatural, I guess. It’s just, well, you know I’ve been working with her mother through the women’s center, and they moved out of the shelter a few months ago, but the place they’re staying…I wouldn’t want Nancy or Holly living in that place.”

“I see, I’ll ask her about it in our next session.”

In fact, Maxine was my next case but one, immediately after Chrissy Cunningham. When I asked her about the place she was living, she deflected.

“I mean, it’s shitty, but it beats living with Neil.”

“And you feel safe there?”

“Why wouldn’t I feel safe?”

“I know it’s just you and your mom, and she’s been working a lot.”

“It’s fine. Everything’s fine.”

“You know you can talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Are you sure?”

“Very sure.”

After Maxine, all of my appointments were for standard guidance counseling. Between the fallout from last summer and the general pressures of going to high school in a parochial small town, it was enough to keep me busy. After my last meeting, I grabbed a quick bite to eat and then went back to school for the basketball game. Thanks to a couple of fouls, Lucas got to play late in the game, and ended up making a buzzer-beating shot that won the game for Hawkins. The other boys came down through the crowd to congratulate him, and then he split off with the rest of the basketball team. The team had converted an old restaurant that had belonged to one of the victims from 1983 into a semi-covert hangout, and I assumed they were headed over there.

I hoped that the excitement would bring the kids some relief after everything that had happened over the past few years, and that none of them got in trouble at the parties I knew were about to break out. My optimism lasted until the phone rang at 7:00 the next morning.

Chapter 10: Is There So Much Hate For the Ones We Love?

Jason Ellis – March 22, 1986, Morning

I had gotten home late the night before, and my sleep was troubled by a recurring nightmare. It started out as a sex dream of me and Will in the showers at school. But then the captain of the tennis team walked in on us, and suddenly the locker room was filled with students and teachers jeering us. For some reason my parents were there too.

The dream version of my mother was sobbing. “How could you do this to me?”

My dream father just shook his head in disappointment. “We’re very disappointed in you, son. I think it would be best if we sent you away until you can be cured of this behavior.” His voice distorted into a threatening growl. “We’ll make sure you never see this Byers kid again.”

I looked across the room to see Will’s father dragging him away. A clock chimed and suddenly we were both in the Upside Down that Will had described to me. His father had turned into a monster, not the Demogorgon Will had described, but something slightly more human, albeit larger than a normal human. It turned and addressed me in the same growling voice. “Jason, you can end their suffering if you leave them.”

I bolted upright and looked at the clock. It was 4:27 a.m., so I turned back over and tried to get back to sleep.

When Mom shook me awake, I first thought she was mad at me. From the look on her face, I could tell it was something else.

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s been a murder. Chief Hopper thinks it might be related to last summer, so he wants you to come with me.”

I dressed hurriedly and got in the car, ignoring the splitting headache I’d woken up with. Mom drove to East Hawkins and turned into a trailer park. Hopper’s truck was parked next to a police barricade, and he was talking to Murray Bauman from the Post.

Hopper marched over to us. I could tell he was on edge, but trying not to yell in front of my mom.

“Alright, Jason, I need you to tell me where all of your friends are.”

“Uhh…Lucas went with the basketball team.”

“They were having a beer bash at Benny’s place. Powell’s talking to them now. What about El?”

“She and Mike were going to talk Will into going to Rink-O-Mania with them. I was supposed to meet Lucas and Dustin at the Byers’ to start getting ready for the party.”

“Christ, I forgot all about that. Can you tell Joyce something’s come up at work, and I’ll be there as early as I can.”

Mom volunteered to help “I’ll drive him by the rink, and we can pick up the other children and take them to Joyce’s.”

Mom waited for me in the car while I went into Rink-O-Rama. I found Mike and Will by the edge of the rink looking nervous.

“Where’s Jane?” I asked.

Will answered telepathically. Angela just grabbed El and pulled her onto the rink. She wants to get back at her for the other day.

Shit

The DJ’s voice came over the PA. “All right everyone. This next song is dedicated to Jane, the local snitch.”

The music went back on, now playing Wipeout, and a spotlight went on over Jane. Angela and her clique were skating in circles, mocking Jane. Mike ran over to try to get the DJ to turn off the music.

What do we do?

If they’re going to help some kid bully a helpless girl, I don’t have a problem wearing street shoes on their damn rink.

We ran out onto the rink and pushed through the ring of kids circling Jane. I stepped between her and Jake Fletcher just as he was flinging a milkshake that splattered all over my brand new shirt.

“What the fuck, man?”

Fletcher’s eyes widened as he realized that he’d hit me instead of who he was aiming for.

“I…I didn’t see you there.”

“Oh, so you were just trying to humiliate Jane.”

“Her boyfriend…”

I raised my voice to cut them off. “You’ve been messing with them all year for no goddamn reason. You know what, you’re a real piece of shit? Come on Jane, let’s get you home.”

I led Jane off the rink, followed by Will and Mike. Mom noticed the milkshake all over my shirt as soon as we got in the car. “Jason, what happened to you?”

“Nothing!” I snapped.

“Jason!”

“It’s not important right now. Let’s just go.”

I could tell Mom wanted to pry, but fortunately she just drove us to the Byers’ house. I went into Will’s room to find a shirt of his to change into. Will smiled when I took off the polo that had gotten milkshake on it.

“I should thank Fletcher.”

“For what? He was a total asshole.”

“Yeah, but he got you to take your shirt off in my room.” Will walked over to me and drew me into a comforting hug. We went to kiss each other, but as soon as our lips touched, Will recoiled like he’d been shocked.

“What’s wrong?”

“I felt it.” Will’s face was as white as a sheet.

“Felt what?”

“The shadow monster. It was in you…but not directly. There was something between it. It was like…you’re an unwilling host but whatever it was was willing.”

I gulped. “So, I’m going to die like those people last summer?”

“Not if I have anything to say about it. I’m going to try to read your mind and see if I can figure out what happened.”

I felt the comforting presence of Will’s telepathy inside my brain, but I was swiftly overcome by a searing pain in my head. There was a jumble of memories that weren’t mine…terrifying memories. A baby’s cradle burning with the corpse of the baby still inside, a rabbit choked by an unseen force, a woman’s body floating to the ceiling, and then her bones snapping like matchsticks. Then we were in the Upside Down again, and Jake Fletcher was with us.

“I always knew you were queer, Ellis. That’s why you stick up for Byers and his friends, because you’re a fag just like he is. Well, you won’t be able to protect him when I tell the whole school what you really are.”

“He’s lying!” Will shouted. “It’s not really Jake!”

That voice came out of Jake’s mouth. “The only way to keep it from getting worse for Will is if you aren’t there. Then he can go on to live a normal, heterosexual life without your disgusting perversion tempting him. Your parents and sister can be a normal family. You just have to leave them.”

“Leave him alone!” Will shouted at Jake, who turned into the monster. “You’re a lying coward!”

Then I was back in Will’s bedroom, fainting to the floor as Will shouted for someone to call 911.

Chapter 11: A Willing Host

Jim Hopper – March 22, 1986, Mid-Day

I’d sent Lynn Kelley out to stall the reporters parked in front of the police station with a speech about how the schools planned to support students in the aftermath of these tragedies. It was officially ‘tragedies’ in the plural now that Fred Benson’s mother had found his body on the floor of his bedroom. This one had no known connection to Munson. I doubted that he had anything to do with it, but from what the kids had just told me we needed to bring him in for his own safety. While Powell was bringing him back to the station, I debriefed an extremely nervous Will Byers.

“So you think your boyfriend is possessed?”

“It’s not like last time. There’s an intermediary between the Mindflayer and Jason.”

“What do you mean?”

“There was a person in Jason’s head, not the Mindflayer directly. It was someone with powers, someone who had become a willing host for the Mindflayer.”

“A willing host, why on Earth would anyone want to…”

“They thought the Mindflayer could enhance their powers and that they could control it.”

“And can they control it?”

“I don’t think they’re in as much control as they seem to think. The Mindflayer doesn’t really understand humans. It’s using the host like it used me - as a spy, to know how to hurt people. I think it was using Jason to get to me. Hopper, this thing or person or whatever it is, when I found them…they reacted.” Will shuddered as he recollected whatever had happened. “They’re after me and El specifically.”

It felt like my heart stopped, and I sat there without saying anything until Jonathan noticed that I was dumbfounded.

“Hopper…”

I snapped out of it and went into action. “Call Cynthia and tell her to take Nick to her parents, right away. Then, I want Jonathan and Nancy to drive to Pennhurst and try to get an interview with this Creel character. Tell the warden or whoever that you’re with the Hawkins Post; I’m sure Murray will forgive you. Get inside his head and see if he’s the one behind this, or if there’s any connection between what happened to him and  what’s going on now. El, when Sam gets here, I’m putting you and Jason on the chopper back to Washington.”

“I can help.”

“No, you heard Will. This thing’s after you specifically.”

“But…I think…” El breathed deeply before continuing. “It might be my fault.”

“No, remember what we talked about with Ms. Kelley.”

“There’s more…Ms. Kelley told me what we talked about was private…”

“And it is, but I need to know if there’s something that’s after you. I…”

El had broken down sobbing. There was no use trying to get any more out of her. “Mike, can you take her?”

Mike leaned in and whispered “I love you” to El before leading her to a back room. By this point, Powell had snuck Munson in through the back door and put him in the holding cell.

“Did he say anything?”

“He came up with some crazy story that he found her catatonic and then she floated to the ceiling and her bones just snapped. Sounds like a drug-induced hallucination to me.”

“Maybe. Will, you come with me. I want to see if his story checks out.”

Munson was pretty obviously hysterical.

“I swear,” he sobbed, “I didn’t do anything. She just…was there one minute and the next…”

“He’s telling the truth,” Will explained, wiping a droplet of blood from his nose. “There’s no distortion of the memory that would indicate drug use. She came to his trailer to buy ketamine and something possessed her while he was in the kitchen. He tried to wake her up but something pulled her up to the ceiling and then her limbs started snapping. Eddie panicked and ran away – half because he knew he’d be blamed for the murder and half because he thought whatever it was would come for him next.”

Munson looked up at Will with a mixture of fear and awe. “How did you know all that?”

“There’s a lot going on that you don’t know about,” I explained. “I know you didn’t kill Chrissy, but until we catch who or whatever did, I’m going to keep you here for your own safety. Maybe while you’re here you can try to come up with a business idea that doesn’t involve illegal narcotics.”

I went back to my desk and tried not to pace while I waited for a call from either Jonathan Byers and Nancy Wheeler or Sam Owens. Instead, my first call was from Steve Harrington and Lucas Sinclair, who had tracked Jason Carver and three of his friends to where Munson had been a few minutes after we’d got him. It was pretty clear that they were intent on dispensing their own idea of ‘justice,’ so I called Callahan and told them to haul them in for disturbing the peace. We booked them and made sure they were in separate cells from Munson.

El knocked on the door a few minutes later.

“I told you, you’re not going to fight this.” I was maybe a little harsher than I had intended to be.

“It’s Mike.” El responded, “he’s sick.”

“What?”

“He’s been having bad dreams, like Jason.”

“Shit.”

“And now he says his head hurts.”

I went into the back room, where Wheeler insisted that he was fine, even though he had a deathly pallor and bags under his eyes.

“Damn it, Wheeler, I don’t have time for your hero act!”

“Why are you worried about me? El’s the one it’s after. I thought Owens was supposed to be here by now.”

“Did it ever occur to you that it went after Will by attacking his boyfriend, not directly. And that it might do the same to El, and that you’re her boyfriend.”

“Ok, so it kills me and leaves El alone.”

“As much as I might like that to be the case right now, I have a feeling I’d never hear the end of it.”

“Mike, please.” El begged.

“Fine,” he sighed. “I’ve been having these weird dreams and headaches for a couple of nights now.”

“What about?”

“Is that really important what they’re about?”

“I don’t know if it’s important or not, but I can’t figure that out unless you tell me.”

“No, it’s stupid.”

“Jesus Christ, kid!”

“Jason almost fucking died back there. He’s got real problems, he’s not falling apart because his mom…Fuck!”

“The dream was about your mom?”

That broke down his defenses, and he explained it to me while staring at the floor with tears dripping down his face. “She ran off with Billy Hargrove and then you took El away and my dad gave me this whole speech about how the reason she doesn’t love him any more is that I’m a weird nerd with no social skills who’s always getting in trouble or making them look bad. Then he turned into some sort of monster and told me everybody else’s problems would go away if I killed myself.”

“See, that’s useful information. I didn’t get the part about suicide from Ellis.”

“Suicide?” El started to tear up. I wasn’t sure when she’d learned that word.

“Shit.” Wheeler answered, “Just forget I ever said anything.”

“Mike, I’m going to stop whoever’s doing this.” Her voice was determined now.

“El, I told you...”

“Whatever this thing is, it has powers. We need someone with powers to stop it. Will saw it in Jason’s mind. We can go into Mike’s mind together. It’ll be like he’s giving us a piggyback ride.”

“El…”

“Do you have a better plan?”

I didn’t.

Chapter 12: Piggyback

Eleven – March 22, 1986, Afternoon

Jonathan and Nancy called right after Hop agreed to my Piggyback plan.

“I got into Creel’s memory,” Jonathan said over the radio, “I’m pretty sure that whatever killed his wife and kids is the same thing that attacked Jason. It went after him too, but he was listening to music and that pulled him out of the trance.”

“So we just need music playing?” Hop asked.

“It needs to be a song that’s personally important to the person. Preferably one that reminds them of better times.”

“So…uh…do you know any songs that are personally important to Mike Wheeler?”

“What!?” Nancy sounded scared.

“Just get here as soon as you can. We need everyone with powers we can get here.”

Hopper turned off the radio and sighed as I tried to think back to songs Mike and I had listened together.

“Every Breath You Take!”

“What?”

“It was the song we first danced to at the Snow Ball,” Mike explained.

“Do you remember who I was dancing with?” Will asked. He had been asked to dance by a girl at school, but he likes boys instead of girls, so he hadn’t really enjoyed it.

“Oh, right. So what song is meaningful to you?”

“You have to ask?”

“Should I Stay or Should I Go?”

“Wait,” Jason yelled, “that was the first song Will played for me on our first date.”

“And I heard you singing it on the walkie-talkie the night they found his fake body,” Mike said, “remember El?”

I remembered. Mike had been angry with me at first, because he thought that I lied about Will being alive, and friends don’t lie. But after I channeled Will with the walkie-talkie, Mike knew I was telling the truth, and wasn’t angry anymore.

“Do we have a tape of this somewhere?” Hop asked.

“Which car did Jonathan and Nancy take?” Will responded.

“Nancy’s.”

“There should be a cassette in Jonathan’s car.”

They found the tape, and Hop put it into the radio in the police station break room, waiting for a cue to play it. Jason, Will, Mike and I sat in a circle holding hands and waiting for something to happen. After what felt like hours, Mike’s eyes rolled back in his head.

“Now!” Will shouted. Hopper began playing the music, and I closed my eyes, dragging Will and Jason into Mike’s head. He was in his living room, and his father was giving him a lecture. I remembered Mike telling me that his dad was disappointed in him sometimes, because he was supposed to like sports and not D and D. I thought that was like how people were mean to Will because he was supposed to like girls instead of boys, but Mike said it wasn’t the same thing.

Mike stopped listening to his father when he heard the music, and looked at us.

“El? Thank God you’re here!”

His father turned to look at me, and then we weren’t in the living room. We were in the playroom at the lab, the day of the massacre. The bodies of the other experiments – the ones I’d murdered – lay in pools of blood around our feet, and Peter the nice orderly stood between us and the wall.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

I choked back a sob. This was the one thing I had never told Mike. The memory had come back to me in flashes, especially when Angela started bullying me like 002 had, but I knew that if I ever told Mike what I’d done, he wouldn’t love me anymore.

“Did we come to show our new friends what happened to our old friends when they didn’t play nicely?”

“What the hell?” Mike muttered.

“I’m sorry, Mike.” I cried. “I’m sorry.”

“Wait!” Will yelled. He had been looking between me and Peter. “El, you didn’t do this. You partially repressed the memory. It was him! He’s behind all of this!”

“What?”

“I’ll show you.”

Will took me into my own memory. I saw the other experiments taunting me, but Peter being nice to me, and showing me that he was 001. He told me that 002 was planning to kill me, and that he would help me escape. He convinced me to remove the soteria and then to hide from the guards in a closet. When I got out, I saw that he had killed all the other experiments, but he tried to convince me to work with him to take over everything. Instead, I was so angry that I used my powers to send him out of the universe.

“You sent him to the Upside Down,” Will explained, “He thought that merging with the Mindflayer would make him even more powerful, and when he did he opened the gate in the lab.”

“Silence!” Peter yelled. He had now transformed into the monster that Mike and Jason had described – his true form.

“No, you shut up!” Mike retorted. “You’re a fucking coward aren’t you? That’s why you went after me and Jason instead of El and Will, because you’re afraid to face someone else with powers.”

“He’s right,” Will added, “He wanted to hurt you indirectly. Each death opens another, smaller gate, and when he gets to four the gates will merge and Hawkins will be swallowed up by the Upside Down. He picked Chrissy and Fred because they were particularly vulnerable, but he picked Jason and Mike because he thought that we’d be too demoralized to fight him if they died.”

I remembered what 008 had told me about using my anger to enhance my powers. Then I thought about the kids at the lab. About Barbara Holland, and Bob Newby the Superhero. I allowed myself to think about what it would have been like if he had killed Mike. The anger built up and I overpowered his defenses. I grabbed a hold of him, and pulled him out of the void into the police station. The boys fell to the floor, but 001 and I stayed in mid-air, propelled by our powers. I pinned him against the wall as he struggled vainly. Will was still reading his mind, shouting out instructions.

“The Mindflayer’s totally in charge now! It’s decided Henry’s outlived his usefulness!”

The thing that had once been 001 let out one final roar of pain before dissolving into the same gelatinous mess as the flayed from last year. I found myself pushing against nothing but the wall of the office, which collapsed under the weight of my powers to reveal the cell holding Jason and the other basketball players on the other side. A small cloud of particles from the Mindflayer rose from the remains of 001 and quickly entered the nearest available host, who happened to be Patrick McKinney.

Exhausted, I slumped to the ground. Hop ran over to pick me up with tears in his eyes.

“It’s okay sweetie. You did good. You did good.”

Chapter 13: It's Okay Not To Be Okay, Part 2

Nancy Wheeler – March 22, 1986, Early Evening

I drove back from Pennhurst like a bat out of hell, but everything was over by the time we got there. I found Mike in the crowd of military and CIA types that had occupied the police station.

“Oh my God, Mike! I was so scared.”

“Jesus, you don’t have to smother me.” Mike wriggled out from my embrace.

“What happened?”

“It got in my head, but El and Will used their powers to get in my head and kill it. So there’s really nothing else to talk about."

"Is he telling the truth?”

“I guess. You could probably make an argument he’s glossing over the lead-up,” Jonathan admitted.

“I’m fine.” I could tell from his tone that pressing further would only lead to an argument, so I decided to figure out what had happened for myself. Hopper was busy tending to El, and it was clear that they would both be out of commission for a while. I found Owens talking to the Army officer the government had brought in to liaise with us. It didn’t seem like a friendly conversation.

“The kid’s a civilian!” Owens shouted. “He bears no responsibility for any of this.”

The officer was studiously calm. “The responsibility lies with your organization, Mr. Owens. Thanks to what you unleashed, that boy is now a clear and present danger to the national security of the United States of America.”

“What boy?” I was horrified that something had happened to Dustin or Will or Lucas.

“Patrick McKinney,” Owens explained. “He’s been infected with the virus.”

“And Colonel Sullivan wants to kill him before it can spread any further,” Jonathan finished Owens’ thought.

"Who the hell are you?” Sullivan asked.

“Fourteen.”

“God damn it!”

“There’s another way,” I insisted. “We can get it out of McKinney the same way we got it out of Billy Hargrove.”

“And then what? The virus escaped from Hargrove and for all we know that’s what led to this thing’s escaping.”

“You got a flamethrower?”  Owens asked.

“We’re fully equipped.”

“Then come on. We’re going to the pool.”

They had Patrick tied up in the cell. Jason and the other basketball players were nearby, handcuffed but otherwise unrestrained. Jason was loudly demanding to be told what had happened to Chrissy despite Lucas and Steve’s attempts to calm him down. Jonathan stood in front of Patrick and read his mind.

“It hasn’t taken control yet. He’s still fighting it, but it’s learned since it took over Will. It’s using his own memories against him.”

“What are you talking about?” Jason screamed.

“I’m not sure how much we’re allowed to explain. Lucas, did they tell you?”

“Sullivan and Owens are still arguing about it. They told me to keep him occupied in the meantime.”

“Well, we need to get Patrick to a sauna right away.”

“I don’t need a sauna,” Patrick moaned, “It’s too hot.”

“We need to leave now!”

A couple of marines bundled Patrick into an ambulance, with Jonathan, Will, and I following in a squad car driven by Hopper. Fortunately, the pool was still closed for the season, so they were able to get Patrick into the sauna without anyone else seeing. After they’d locked the door, Will and Jonathan stood at the window, searching Patrick’s memory for something that would help him fight it off. They didn’t have to go back very far.

“Patrick, remember the game Friday night!” Will called out. His voice was hoarse by this point, and I could tell he was approaching exhaustion. His powers were getting erratic and starting to bleed over. I was getting glimpses of Patrick’s memory of the game and his altercations with his father.

“Remember how proud everyone was of you!” Patrick looked up, a flash of recognition in his eye even as the Mindflayer was growing more powerful.

“Use that memory!” Jonathan yelled. “Fight it off!”

Patrick struggled, seemingly against himself. The Mindflayer didn’t have the same control over him as it had Billy, and there was no display of superhuman strength. The restraints stayed on as the temperature in the sauna rose, and the Mindflayer’s signature dark veins appeared on Patrick’s neck as Will and Jonathan continued to call out encouragement. Finally, it couldn’t take the heat anymore, and flew out of Patrick’s mouth as a black cloud of particles.

“Now!” Jonathan called out. One of the marines opened the sauna door, and another blasted the cloud of particles with his flamethrower. They caught fire and burned away to ash in mid-air. As soon as it was safe, the marines rushed in to pull a very overheated Patrick out of the sauna.

“We need to take Will to the hospital with him,” Jonathan said, “he’s overexerted himself.”

“You don’t look so great yourself,” I pointed out, dabbing at the blood pouring from Jonathan’s nose with a Kleenex I’d kept in my purse.

“We’re taking everyone to the hospital to get you checked out,” Hopper said.

Mrs. Byers and my Mom were both at the hospital by the time we got there, both obviously worried sick. The doctor gave me a very brief physical and released me to Mom.

“Where’s Mike?”

“They’re keeping him under observation for a little longer. They think there’s some sort of mental problem. But I don’t know what on earth could be wrong with him.”

“I know he got in some kind of fight with Dustin. We’ll ask Will or Jonathan when they get out.”

They led us into a waiting room. Lucas, Munson, Jason Ellis, and Steve had already been released and were watching Hopper give the official version of the story in a press conference on the hospital’s television, along with Jason Carver, who must have been stuffed in the hospital waiting room because they didn’t know what else to do with him.

“We’re still working on identifying the suspect, but it appears at this point that he was attempting to copy the Victor Creel murders in 1959 and targeting high school students. He kidnapped Christine Cunningham, murdered her in the sauna of the Hawkins Community Pool, and then dumped the body at the Munson residence in a purposeful attempt to frame Edward Munson. Mr. Munson is completely innocent of any wrongdoing in this case and has been released from custody…”

“I’m sorry.” Jason Carver muttered under his breath. Munson seemed too shocked to respond.

“…After killing Fred Benson, this individual kidnapped two more Hawkins High School students apparently at random: Michael Wheeler and Patrick McKinney. Michael was able to escape and ran to the police station. When officers confronted the assailant at the pool he drew a weapon and we were forced to shoot him. The suspect died at the scene and Mr. Wheeler and Mr. McKinney were taken to Hawkins Medical Center to be treated for minor injuries and exhaustion. I would like to conclude by expressing once again my deepest sympathies for the families of Chrissy and Fred as well as for the Wheelers and McKinneys, who I’m sure have had a very frightening day.”

“He’s right about that,” Mom said.

“Did they say when they’d let them out?” Jason Ellis asked me.

“I’m sure it won’t be long,” I reassured him. “Will just needs to rest. He’s overused his powers and it drained him. I’ve seen the same thing happen to Eleven.”

“Holy shit, holy shit,” Munson murmured. “Will Byers has fucking real-life powers and I kicked him out of Hellfire.”

“What the hell is going on?” Carver asked. “First, you say it has nothing to do with Munson or Satanism, then there’s a demon in the middle of the police station and my best friend gets possessed, and now you’re telling me Will Byers has some sort of powers?”

“It’s not Satanic,” I said firmly, “and Munson was just an innocent bystander.” I decided that regardless of what Owens or Sullivan thought, we needed Carver and Munson to know the truth, or at least the part of the truth that concerned them. “I don’t know the exact science but the abilities seem to run in families. Jonathan and Will have the same ability – telepathy, and Eleven – Jane inherited her abilities from her mother. The government wanted to use these powers to spy on the Russians, and they set up Hawkins Lab to test them. Some of the test subjects were brought in as ‘day students,’ like Will and Jonathan. Others were kidnapped and kept in the lab permanently, like Eleven. At some point, one of the experiments went wrong and opened a gate to another dimension. It’s awful, like…do you remember the Vale of Shadows from D&D?”

Munson and Carver both nodded, so I continued. “It’s a twisted mirror of Hawkins, with the same buildings but no people. Instead there are monsters, all controlled by this sentient virus cloud that can infect humans or animals and bend them to its will.”

“Like the Mindflayer,” Munson whispered.

“Exactly like that. In 1983, one of these monsters escaped through the gate. It took Will back to the Vale of Shadows and it killed Barbara Holland. The story about the asphyxiant was something we came up with to be more believable. Eleven escaped from the lab at the same time and the boys found her while they were looking for Will. She defeated the monster while Hopper and Joyce Byers went into the Vale of Shadows to rescue Will. Hopper made a deal with the government to adopt Eleven in exchange for keeping everything quiet, but it kept coming back. Now we’re all on the government payroll to keep a lookout for it, but I guess it somehow slipped through.”

“Will said it had an intermediary,” Lucas said, “a human who was some sort of willing host. It was able to get into people’s heads using the intermediary, which we hadn’t seen before, so we were unable to detect it until Will kissed Jason and the Mindflayer reacted to him.”

“Lucas!” Jason Ellis shouted, horrified that his secret had been revealed.

“Oh, shit! Uh…forget I said anything.”

“Nothing you’ve learned here ever leaves this hospital room,” I reminded them sternly. Aside from the risk of Ellis being outed, any leaks of information about the lab could very well get them killed – me too, for that matter.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Carver assured him. “If you were trying to help Chrissy, the least I can do is keep your secret for you.”

“Thanks.”

Munson looked astonished. “So you’re telling me that little miss perfect Nancy Wheeler has been leading a double life as a secret agent demon fighter?”

“And she’s pretty good with a pistol, too.”

I turned around to see Jonathan, Will, and Ms. Byers behind me. Jason Ellis immediately gripped Will in a bear hug.

“Hey, hey. He needs to rest.” Mrs. Byers admonished gently.

Mike stepped out from behind Jonathan. “I’m clear to go home now.”

“Maybe we can continue this debrief at our house,” Jonathan suggested, “so Will can get to bed and we can all clear out of here before the media shows up.”

We drove over to the Byers, and Will immediately went to bed. He asked if Jason could spend the night, and we left them cuddled up together in Will’s bed. The rest of us gathered in the living room and sipped tea served by Ms. Byers while Jonathan explained what he’d gleaned from reading the monster’s mind. He was actually Henry Creel, who had been born with a dangerous combination of powers and sociopathy and gone on to murder his mother and sister. Somehow Dr. Brenner had gotten wind of the situation, and connived to have Victor Creel framed for the murder and Henry imprisoned as the Hawkins Lab’s first experiment under the false name of Peter Ballard, using some sort of implanted device to dampen his powers. He had talked Eleven into removing the device to facilitate his escape, but then brutally massacred the other live-in experiments. When Eleven found out, she fought him, and somehow banished him to the Upside Down, where he had encountered the Mindflayer. He had allowed himself to become infected, believing that he could control the Mindflayer and use it to take over others, although Jonathan was pretty sure that the Mindflayer was actually using him to gain access to more prey.

Jason Carver sighed heavily. “I just don’t understand why it went after Chrissy.”

“It’s easier for it to get control over people who already have mental problems or are under a lot of stress,” Jonathan explained. “Jason was conflicted about his sexuality, Benson probably had PTSD from that car accident, Mike…”

“If you have to tell my mom about this, can you do it telepathically?” Mike demanded.

“The doctor said I was supposed to give my powers a rest for a little while.”

“Then can it wait?”

“Sure.”

“I didn’t think things with Chrissy were that bad,” Jason Carver sobbed. “I mean, I knew she was seeing that counselor, but she told me she was just stressed about senior year.”

“She was seeing the counselor because she was bulimic,” Jonathan told him, “Will figured it out at the Halloween Party and got Ms. Kelley to do the presentation about it, and Ryan and her parents made her start seeing Ms. Kelley.”

“I should have been there, man. I should have been there for her.”

“Jason, you can’t blame yourself for this. You had no idea she was bulimic.” I looked pointedly at Mike. “You can’t help someone if they won’t tell you what’s going on.” Mike just rolled his eyes.

Chapter 14: Stop All The Clocks

Jonathan Byers: March 23, 1986

True to my word, I shared what I knew about Mike’s problems with Mrs. Wheeler and Nancy the next day. Mrs. Wheeler went upstairs to talk to Mike, leaving Nancy and I alone in the Wheeler’s kitchen.

“So, do you think this will help?” Nancy asked.

“Not immediately, but in the long term he needs the reassurance that she really does love him.”

“I don’t know what we’re going to do about Dad. We can’t tell him about Mom.”

“What he needs from your dad is to know he doesn’t think less of Mike because he isn’t good at sports.”

“You know dad rode the bench his entire high school baseball career.”

“He really doesn’t think less of Mike. He just doesn’t know how to relate to him.”

“Well, they’re both so closed off…”

“They’re more alike than Mike wants to admit. It’ll get better once he’s older and out of the house. Your dad’s actually really proud of Mike for working with the CIA.”

“So why can’t he just tell Mike that?”

“He has trouble saying anything emotional. I think that’s a big part of the problem between your parents.”

Nancy sighed heavily, then changed the subject.

“Are you going to the funerals?”

“Do you think I should? I didn’t know either of them that well.”

“Fred’s parents will want as many people from school as possible. He didn’t have many friends outside the newspaper, and…”

“They’ll be afraid it will be poorly attended. I don’t think that should be a problem, but if you think I should…”

“You can help shield Mike from the reporters.”

Nancy turned out to be right – about the reporters, anyway. The parking lot of the DMV across from the Catholic church was filled with TV trucks by the time we got to the funeral, and their cameras zeroed in on Mike once they’d recognized him. The official story made him out to be a hero for escaping and notifying the police, but we’d determined that publicity wouldn’t be good for either his mental health or our ability to keep the real story under wraps. Mr. Wheeler discreetly stepped between Mike and the cameras, and I could tell that he was a little rattled by the whole thing. He’d never understood his son, but until New Year's Eve, he had assumed that everything would work itself out as Mike ‘grew out of’ his nerdy phase. Now he was rattled, worried about both physical and mental dangers but unable to vocalize his concerns. It would have helped if I was able to get into his head, but I knew that he would see it as invasive. I put my concerns about the Wheelers aside for the time being and focused on the service, trying not to get too irritated at the religious nonsense I knew was providing little comfort to the Bensons.

Chrissy’s wake was the day after Benson’s funeral, and I had plenty of time to study the Cunninghams in the receiving line. Mr. Cunningham was in too much shock to even try to make sense of what had happened, but his wife was trying desperately to create some sort of meaning out of this tragedy, preferably meaning that would exonerate her for not doing enough about Chrissy’s bulimia. She was starting to settle on the belief, encouraged by some of the media’s speculation about the case, that Chrissy’s killer had been set on his path of vengeance by horror movies, and that she could honor Chrissy’s memory by campaigning to have them outlawed. Neither of them were in any position to be supportive of Ryan.

Ryan reminded me very much of how I’d felt the day I thought Will had died and Mom had gone crazy – completely alone in the world. I tried to think of something I could say that would help him without revealing too much. Owens and Sullivan had decided that the families of the victims wouldn’t be told the real story, following the protocol used for Barbara Holland and the victims of the Mindflayer the previous summer.

I couldn’t come up with anything. Ryan barely knew Will, and had never even spoken to me before, so anything I said that even suggested I took more interest in Ryan’s struggle than passing sympathy would arouse suspicion. When we got to the front of the line, I was only able to stammer out “I’m so sorry for your loss,” before making a hasty and somewhat embarrassed exit.

The Wheelers knew the Cunninghams fairly well, and spent a long time talking to them. I ended up stepping outside for a smoke while we waited for them. Steve Harrington found me on the steps of the funeral home.

“How are they?”

“Bad. Ryan’s lost his parents on top of his sister. He’s going to be really lonely.”

“What about friends?”

“He’s popular, but he doesn’t have the kind of deep friendships Will and the boys have. His friends are either going to avoid him or treat him like glass because they don’t know how to deal with it.”

Steve bummed a cigarette from me and smoked it contemplatively. He didn’t say anything else until he’d stubbed it out on the step.

“Did you ever read my mind?”

“When we were kids. Dr. Brenner told us to practice on our friends and report back to him.”

“What did you report?”

“You were always frustrated back then. You felt stupid because you couldn’t read as well as the other kids in your grade and they wouldn’t let you forget it. Your parents and teachers told you that you were lazy and eventually you started to believe them. You liked playing with us because we were a year younger so you didn’t feel as behind and Nancy helped you with the reading part of it without making snide remarks, but it annoyed you that Barb and Nancy and I didn’t care about sports as much as you and Jason. You liked sports because you were good at them and your parents were proud of you for that.”

“Yeah.”

“And I guess once you got to middle school, being good at sports was a way for you to be popular and your grades didn’t matter so much. By the time Nancy and I started middle school, you hung out with the popular kids and we didn’t.”

“Were you still reading my mind then?”

“Only twice. Last summer to make sure you weren’t flayed and when Will went missing.”

“When I saw those pictures?”

“When I took them. I wasn’t trying to get a look at Nancy naked, I was using the lens to extend my range, to see if you were involved or knew anything.”

“Jeez. I mean, I know I was kind of an asshole back then, but I’d never hurt Will.”

“Not on purpose, but they found his bike right behind your house, where we used to play cowboys and Indians. I thought maybe Hagan had talked you into trying to run him off the road and you’d cut it too close, or maybe Hagan did it on his own and he’d got you to help him dispose of the body, or even that you’d just seen something suspicious. I was pretty desperate.”

“I guess I never really apologized about that.”

“There’s no need. It did look pretty creepy if you didn’t know why I was doing it.”

“So, you didn’t just read my mind for, like, general information or whatever.”

“Sometimes it’s hard to know what people really think of you.”

“So, you assumed that I just decided to abandon you because I was having more fun with Tommy H. and Carole and all my ‘friends’ from the basketball team and I thought you were some creepy weirdo.”

“I might have phrased it a bit more diplomatically.” I didn’t really understand why Steve was bringing this up now. “Did somebody say something about me?”

“Dustin brought it up when I tried to talk to him about Hellfire. Apparently Will had figured out that you were upset.”

“To be fair, I was also eleven and growing through a lot at home.”

“Maybe you were making the charitable assumption.”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t stop hanging out with you because I was having so much more fun without you. If you had been reading my mind you would have probably seen that I was miserable most of the time.”

Even without using my powers, I could tell that Steve wanted to get something off his chest. “So what was it?”

Steve sighed heavily. “The summer before seventh grade, I was genuinely looking forward to you and Nancy being in middle school. I thought I could, like, show you guys the ropes, introduce you to my new friends, but right before school started, you were…I guess something happened at home.”

“The lab stopped paying for me and Will. It was a big financial strain and it made my dad worse than he already was.”

“I always knew your family wasn’t like mine. I mean, I overheard my parents saying shit, but I didn’t really understand until I saw you and Will walking around with cuts and bruises. I knew that I should have done something to protect you but there was no way I could take your dad in a fight and all the other adults were seeing the same shit as I was and not doing anything about it.”

“Some of them did.” I was thinking specifically of Mrs. Wheeler, who had gone out of her way to invite Will to as many sleepovers as possible during the periods when she knew things were bad, and Mr. Clarke, who had tried to get social services involved the year I had him.

“I guess I was just a coward then. I was scared, and I didn’t know what to do. Somehow it was easier to avoid you than to talk about it or to hang out with you and pretend I didn’t see it, but that meant I had to avoid Barb and Nancy too.”

“To be fair, I didn’t exactly make much of an effort,” I admitted.

“I assumed you thought you were smarter than everybody else.”

“It was easier to let people think that. The one time someone did call a social worker, Dad fed them a pack of lies and when they’d left he made Will cut a switch because he thought he told Mrs. Wheeler.”

“Jesus.”

“So whatever you would have done probably wouldn’t have helped.”

“I still shouldn’t have ignored you like that. I’m sorry, man.”

For the first time since last summer, I went into Steve’s head. I was perfectly willing to accept the apology, but he really wouldn’t let go of the nagging guilt until he had done something to make amends.

“There is something you can do to make it up to me.”

“What’s that?”

“We’re having a raincheck birthday party for Will on Saturday. Do you think you can get Dustin to come?”

“I can sure try.”

Chapter 15: Will's Birthday

Dustin Henderson: March 29, 1986

I was sitting on my bed, turning a gift-wrapped copy of the new Batman comic over in my hands and wondering if I still had time to get out of this when I heard Steve’s car horn honking. Mom called to me from the living room.

“Dusty, your friends are here.”

Steve kept honking, and I knew he wasn’t going to stop until I came out, so I walked out to the car with a heavy sigh. Steve was irascible as usual.

“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been waiting out here for like five minutes. The neighbors are going to think someone set off the car alarm.”

“I, uhh, was just getting ready.”

“Well, hurry up, we’re going to be late.”

I got in the passenger seat and closed the door. “Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to be late. Maybe I’ll get, you know, lost in the crowd.”

“You are not getting ‘lost in the crowd.’ Byers specifically wanted you to come. His brother called in a huge favor from me; that’s why I’ve been calling you every damn night.”

“Wait, you owe Jonathan a favor? He beat you up and then stole your girlfriend a year later.”

“First of all, he did not steal my girlfriend. We just…weren’t right for each other and he happened to start dating her a couple of days after we figured that out.” 

“Sure.”

“And he didn’t beat me up. It was an even fight.”

“Sure.”

“Anyway, Byers wants to see you. He said you haven’t been around much lately.”

“I guess I haven’t. I’ve just been busy with Hellfire and Cursed Coffin, and they don’t want to…”

“Cursed Coffin? Is that a D&D thing?”

“It’s Eddie’s band.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything until we got to the Byers’ house.

“Well, here we are.”

“I can see that.”

I had no choice but to get out of the car and follow Steve to the house. The door was answered by an older girl I recognized as one of Will’s friends from art club – I think her name was Samantha – who ushered us into the Byers’ living room. It was surprisingly crowded. Last year, it would have just been the four of us, but Will had somehow been able to get a lot of kids from school to come – kids from art club and the honors classes, even some of the freshmen from the tennis and basketball teams. At some point when I wasn’t paying attention, Will must have become popular.

He was sitting on the couch, talking to Ryan Cunningham in a low voice. I was surprised that Ryan was going to a party so soon after his sister had died, and even more surprised that he was hanging out with Will. The Cunninghams were at the tip of the social pyramid. As bullshit as the construct of popularity was, I was glad to see that he’d gotten that he wanted. It meant that he wouldn’t be picked on, and I knew how much that bothered him.

I looked away, not really wanting to talk to any of the guys because I didn’t know what to say. I knew that I had technically drawn first blood, but I didn’t want to apologize out here in front of a bunch of kids who already thought I was a freak.

It was too late; Will had already spotted me. He got off the couch and walked directly over to me.

“Dustin!” For a split second, I thought he was going to hug me, but he hesitated and settled for a high five. “I didn’t know if you’d come.”

“Yeah. I, uh, I got you a present.” Not knowing what else to do, I thrust the comic book into Will’s hands.

“Cool.” Will smiled, but it seemed like he was trying to humor me more than he was genuinely excited about the present. “Let me just take it back to my room.”

I followed Will away from the party, and it suddenly occurred to me that I hadn’t seen any other presents around. Were you still supposed to bring presents to a birthday party in high school? Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen Ms. Maldonado or any other adults around. Was this one of those high school parties?

Will must have read my mind. “Jonathan talked my mom into doing the family birthday thing last night and going out with Hopper tonight.”

“Cool.”

“There’s some beers in the fridge.”

“Oh.” Despite being best friends with Eddie Munson, I had never drunk or done drugs. Suzie was strictly opposed and Eddie actually didn’t pressure me.

“And there should be plenty of pop left. Lucas brought his stash of New Coke.”

I made a face.

Will laughed. “I’m kidding, but we do have pop if you want some.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m really glad you came. I know things have been kind of…weird lately. I mean, aside from the usual weirdness.”

“Yeah.” I couldn’t help thinking back to the fight we’d gotten into last January.

“I sort of figured, after what happened last week, and since the basketball season’s over, we could maybe let bygones be bygones.”

Will extended his hand for me to shake, which totally surprised me. He was the last member of the party you could accuse of having drawn first blood. In fact, he’d tried to mediate, which I guess he was still trying to do.

I don’t care about any of that first blood crap, he assured me telepathically. I just want to be friends again. There’s like 20 people on Earth who know what really happened in the Upside Down, and fewer than that who I can be myself around. I’d be dumb if I let an argument about scheduling D&D night bring that down.

“Yeah, you’re right.” I shook Will’s proffered hand and we went to the kitchen, where Will retrieved a beer for himself and a can of pop for me. Mike, Lucas, Eleven, and Max seemed to materialize out of nowhere and gathered around me.

“You have to try some of this pizza,” El insisted.

“What…ham and…is that…pineapple?”

“Try it before you deny it.” Mike’s imitation of Argyle from the pizza place made El crack up, and Max ceremoniously put a slice of the pizza on a plate and handed it to me.

I took a bite. It tasted weird, both salty and sweet at the same time.

“Dude, you should see the look on your face,” Lucas teased. Max called Argyle over to bug him about my lack of appreciation for his pizza toppings. Somehow that made it seem like the fight we’d gotten into had never happened, and I felt a tension in my shoulders dissipate.

When they’d finished making fun of me, I discreetly put the pineapple pizza in the trash and replaced it with a slice of pepperoni, which I was just about finishing when the doorbell rang. It was Eddie Munson, which surprised me and the rest of the party guests.  Some of the tennis players gave him weird looks, but Will made it a point to greet him and say he was glad Eddie had come.

“Yeah, I heard you were having a party and I figured, since you saved my life and all, I ought to get you a present…so…here it is.”

He handed Will a CD of the new Metallica album. Will thanked him and decided to go ahead and play it on the Byers’ stereo. It was fucking awesome! I hadn’t heard the full album before and couldn’t help banging my head along to the beat with Eddie. I got lost in the music until the album ended and I looked around.

Most of the party guests had left. It was just the Party and Ryan Cunningham, starting to clean up and doing a bad job of it because they were all drunk. Eddie and I pitched in to help, and we’d gotten the house in pretty decent shape by the time the clock struck midnight.

“We should probably get going,” Nancy announced, “before Hopper and Ms. Byers come back.” Most of us started putting our coats on, but Ryan hesitated. He took a moment to work up his courage, and then let it out.

“Will, what the fuck happened to Chrissy?”

There was a moment of awkward silence before Eddie started to answer.

“It possessed her, I just came back from the other room and her eyes had gone into the back of her head…”

“Eddie…” Jonathan cut him off.

“We can’t tell you,” Nancy explained, “for your own safety.”

“That’s fucking bullshit!” Ryan shouted. “Everybody knows there was something going on at that lab, something more than a chemical leak. You didn’t just get lost in the fucking woods for a week and the editor of the Post wasn’t just hanging around an abandoned steel mill when it caught fire. You’re all covering something up!”

Jonathan tried to empathize. “I know it’s hard. When Will went missing, I thought…”

Ryan wasn’t having it. “Will came back, didn’t he? Chrissy’s not coming back. She’s fucking dead. And my parents are walking around like fucking ghosts and I…I…” He let out a strangled sob, unable to form words any more.

 The older members of the Party – Nancy, Steve, Robin, and Jonathan, went into the kitchen for a whispered conference while Will and Jason tried vainly to comfort Ryan. Jonathan stepped back out and looked at Ryan, presumably reading his mind. After a few minutes, Nancy stepped back into the living room.

“Ryan, we can tell you part of what happened, but you have to promise not to tell anyone. Not even your parents.”

“I promise.”

Jonathan nodded, confirming to Nancy that Ryan was telling the truth. She sat down on the floor directly across from him, taking his hands in hers. “We can’t let the whole truth get out, for a number of reasons. The official version, about the copycat murderer, is what we deemed close enough to the real truth for the public to accept. The person who killed Chrissy was involved with Hawkins Lab a long time ago, and they came back with the goal of killing people in Hawkins. They chose Chrissy because she was already vulnerable.”

Ryan sobbed. “I should have done more to help her.”

“No, Ryan, you did everything right. I know you told the counselor about Chrissy. If that asshole hadn’t showed up, she would have gotten better. I know she would have. Please don’t blame yourself, Ryan.”

Ryan sniffled, but didn’t say anything, so Nancy continued. “He killed Fred Benson, too, and he tried to kill Mike and Patrick McKinney, but we stopped him before he could. He’s dead, Ryan. I can’t promise that everything’s over, but I can promise you  we killed the man responsible.”

When Ryan had stopped crying, Will showed him to the bathroom so he would wash his face, and then Steve drove him home, with me in the backseat. All the lights in his house were dark. Clearly neither parent had waited up for him, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

Steve put the car in park. “Hey, Ryan. If you ever feel like you need to talk to somebody, or just, you know, vent, you know where to find me.”

“Thanks for the offer.” Ryan didn’t sound convinced, so I chimed in.

“You should take him up on it. Steve may not be much good in a fight, but he’s a damn good babysitter.”

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Alive and Kicking