Chapter Text
The Starcourt Mall gleamed like it was brand new — mostly because it was. Hawkins had rebuilt it from the ashes, promising it was “totally demon-free this time.” The neon lights buzzed quietly, and somewhere in the distance, a mall speaker crackled to life with a synth-pop song that made El bob her head along as she tied her apron.
“Okay, this uniform is a war crime,” Will muttered, tugging at the bright yellow collar of his Surfer Boy Pizza shirt.
El looked up from the register, her ponytail bouncing as she turned. “You look… bright,” she said, squinting.
“Like a banana,” Will sighed.
Just as he was about to unbutton the top of his shirt, when their boss, Argyle, glided through the door holding two boxes of pizza like he’d just returned from a sacred journey.
“Yo, my pizza pals!” Argyle announced, setting the boxes down with flair. “First day energy, dudes. Feel it. Breathe it. Live it.”
Will blinked. “...We open in five minutes.”
“Exactly! The vibe starts before the doors open, man. Manifest the pepperoni,” Argyle said, tapping his forehead. “Hey, whoa, Will the Wise, I see you upgraded to Will the Worker!”
Will couldn’t help but grin. Argyle’s energy was contagious in the strangest way.
El leaned over the counter. “Argyle, what if no one comes this morning?”
Argyle shrugged like the question floated right past him. “Then the universe said, ‘take a break.’ Chill out, play some tunes, fold a box or two. The world provides when it’s hungry.”
Will bit back a laugh. “Right. The universe provides. Sure.”
Across the food court, Mike Wheeler was in his own private hell.
“Why does this hat look like it’s about to eat me alive?” Mike asked, frowning at his reflection in the Scoops Ahoyfreezer door.
Max was already in her sailor uniform, leaning against the counter and watching him like a cat about to pounce. “Because it is, Captain Cranky. You look adorable.”
“Don’t call me adorable.”
“Okay, sorry. Handsome sea captain,” she corrected, deadpan.
Mike scowled. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
Max smirked. “Obviously.”
He yanked the blue and white hat off his head and threw it on the floor. “I can’t do this, Max. No one’s gonna take me seriously in this.”
“Mike, we’re serving ice cream to little kids. I don’t think anyone’s expecting you to look intimidating.”
As they bickered, Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley, now in casual clothes and enjoying their day off, strolled by with matching grins.
“Oh my God,” Steve said, nearly choking on laughter. “They cloned us.”
Robin laughed, pointing between them. “It’s like looking into a mirror—one that’s way more awkward.”
Mike glared. “You two think this is funny?”
“Yes,” they said in perfect unison.
Robin clapped Max on the shoulder. “Welcome to the scoops, Red. You’re gonna love it.”
Steve shrugged. “Hopefully you don’t get trapped in an evil Russian prison.”
“Do I at least get free ice cream?” Max asked.
Steve shrugged. “We did. Until someone broke the milkshake machine.”
Robin raised an eyebrow. “You broke the machine.”
“Semantics.”
Mike groaned and grabbed the hat from the floor, glaring at the embroidered anchor. “Why did I agree to this again?”
“Because you wanted to save up for that stupid D&D expansion set,” Max reminded him. “And because your mom said you needed to ‘develop responsibility.’”
Mike sighed dramatically. “Responsibility sucks.”
“Welcome to adulthood,” Steve said, patting him on the back.
Meanwhile, at Surfer Boy Pizza, Will was stacking napkins in unnecessary piles while El carefully lined up the soda cups.
“So,” El said casually, “are you nervous?”
Will glanced up. “About what? Work?”
“No. Summer.”
Will shrugged. “Kind of. It’s the first one where… everything’s normal again, you know?”
El smiled softly. “Normal is good.”
“Yeah,” Will agreed. “It’s just… weird, I guess. The last few summers, we were fighting monsters or trapped in another dimension. Now we’re folding boxes. I can’t believe I’m saying this but fighting monsters feels normal now.”
El tilted her head. “I like folding boxes.”
“Of course you do,” Will laughed.
Argyle popped his head out of the back room. “Hey, box-folding is a sacred art, bros. Respect the cardboard.”
Will exchanged a look with El, both of them trying not to laugh.
Across the food court, Mike leaned over the counter of Scoops Ahoy, chin resting on his palm. He looked utterly defeated by the sailor life.
Max noticed. “Don’t tell me you’re dying already. It’s only been two hours.”
Mike squinted across the mall. “At least Will’s not in a dumb hat.”
Max followed his gaze. Her eyes narrowed as she spotted Will and El setting up their counter. “You’re staring.”
“I’m… not staring,” Mike lied, his voice an octave too high.
Max smirked. “Right. You’re just observing from a respectful sailor distance.”
He turned red instantly. “Can you not?”
“I can. But I won’t.”
She hopped off the counter and waved dramatically toward Surfer Boy Pizza. El waved back enthusiastically, and Will gave a shy little nod. Mike, caught mid-groan, ducked behind the ice cream tubs.
“Subtle,” Max said dryly.
“Shut up.”
Over at Surfer Boy Pizza, El had noticed the whole thing. She elbowed Will lightly. “They are watching.”
Will turned—and immediately caught sight of Mike popping up from behind the counter like a startled meerkat.
“What is he—” Will started, before Mike tripped slightly over the mat and scrambled upright again.
El pressed a hand to her mouth. “He looks like you did when you tried to talk to him last Christmas.”
Will groaned, covering his face. “Don’t remind me.”
El giggled, leaning on the counter. “It’s cute.”
“Humiliating,” Will corrected.
“Same thing.”
By lunchtime, Scoops Ahoy was empty except for Max twirling a spoon in her soda and Mike resting his head on the counter dramatically.
“I think I’ve aged forty years in one morning,” he muttered.
Max didn’t look up. “You didn’t have much energy to start with, old man.”
He groaned. “If we don’t get customers soon, I’m quitting.”
“You can’t. Steve said it gets busier after noon. We’ll be scooping until our arms fall off.”
“Comforting,” Mike said flatly.
Max grinned. “Cheer up, sailor. At least you’ve got me.”
“Yeah, lucky me.”
“Wow. You’re terrible at gratitude.”
He cracked a tiny smile despite himself.
Across the way, Will and El had barely had a single customer. El was stacking pizza boxes into a tower taller than her, while Will sat cross-legged on the counter sketching in a small notebook.
“What are you drawing?” El asked.
“Nothing,” Will said too quickly, snapping it shut.
El raised an eyebrow. “Is it Mike?”
Will almost dropped the notebook. “What? No! Why would you—what?”
El smiled. “Because whenever you say ‘nothing,’ it’s Mike.”
Will’s face went red. “You are—unbelievable.”
She shrugged. “I’m observant.”
Before Will could argue, Argyle reappeared carrying a pizza with a single slice missing. “Team taste test!” he announced. “Quality assurance.”
“You ate the quality assurance,” Will pointed out.
“Exactly! Tastes like success.”
El laughed, taking a slice. “Mike and Max came in earlier. They said the Scoops Ahoy uniforms are awful.”
Will chuckled. “I can imagine. I bet Mike hates it.”
El’s grin widened. “You could always go check for yourself.”
Will made a face. “Yeah, sure, let me just stroll over there and die of embarrassment.”
“Or,” El said, folding her arms, “you could talk to him like a normal person.”
Will sighed. “Easy for you to say.”
“True,” she said, smiling. “But still.”
He looked up and caught sight of Mike again, now holding up his sailor hat in one hand and ranting to Max. Max was doubled over laughing.
Will couldn’t help it—he started laughing too.
El followed his gaze and joined in. Their laughter echoed through the food court.
Mike and Max both turned their heads.
“What are they laughing at?” Mike asked suspiciously.
Max grinned. “You.”
Mike frowned. “Me? What did I do?”
“You exist,” Max said simply, hopping down from the counter.
Mike peeked over at Will and El, who were still cracking up, and despite his embarrassment, he felt his chest warm just seeing Will smile like that.