Chapter Text
Blood.
Why did it smell so strongly of blood?
She was running. Her feet thumped against the ground as she pushed open the doors.
She had to do something.
Bodies. Mangled. Broken bones. Red splattered against the walls. Rainbow.
Gone. They were all gone.
“What did you do?” A voice asked her.
What had she done?
El gasped awake, shooting up from her bed. She half expected to be restrained, but she wasn’t. Her eyes surveyed the room as a hand crept up to the back of her head. She was in her room in Lenora Hills. Her thick brown hair still made waves down her back. El sighed in relief. It was Monday morning. Just six more days. She heard a knock on her door before someone let themselves in.
“You okay?” Jonathan asked, softly. His bedroom was next door. He was still in his pajamas. She must have woken him up. “I heard you shouting again. Was it another nightmare?”
Having a step-brother was weird. She wasn’t used to someone checking in on her after a bad dream. Hopper used to sleep like a rock. The thought made El’s back straighten in alarm. She shrugged, dismissively.
“Okay,” Jonathan said, bobbing his head. “Want to come help me make breakfast?”
A smile slowly crept onto El’s face. She nodded, getting up.
Breakfast at the Byers’ was nice. She and Jonathan made toast and eggs together while Joyce answered phone calls and drank coffee. Joyce made coffee really strong. El had taken a sip from her cup once and had heart palpitations for five minutes.
“Where's Will?” Joyce mouthed to Jonathan. Jonathan shrugged.
“Not up yet.”
El still didn’t know where to place herself at the table, or what she was supposed to say, so she usually just listened. But it was nice, being included. It was a quiet morning, since Jonathan didn’t say much either and Joyce was taking calls. Jonathan volunteered to wash the dishes after they finished. A thought occurred to El that brought a smile to her face. She pulled on some shoes and headed out the door. She bounced over to the mailbox to check.
No letter for Jonathan. Some birthday cards for Will that she'd drop off outside his door. Bills. She grinned when she saw a letter addressed to her. She ripped it open and read its contents right there, sighing happily to herself when it was signed off with a ‘love, Dustin.’
El made her way back into the house and sat down at the living room table to write her response.
Dear Dustin,
Today is day 108. It feels more like ten years. Joyce says time is funny like that. Emotions can make it speed up, or slow back down, like the car in Back to The Future. We are like Marty McFly. I finally finished the movie with Will and his cool sixteen year old friend Argyle. You will meet him on Saturday for his Birthday Party at Rink-o-Mania. They are in the same art class. Ever since Jonathan’s car broke down, we have been taking Argyle’s funny smelling van to school. Will told me not to worry about it. Will made me promise not to tell Joyce, even though the plants they use are super safe because they come from the Earth. Don’t all plants come from the Earth?
I am worried about Jonathan. I think Will and me are his only friends at High School. Jonathan spends every lunch or spare in his photography class. I wonder what he does in there all day. I think he is excited to visit Nancy in Hawkins. He is still waiting for his big letter from Emerson University. He leaves Friday morning. I am sad you will miss him.
Joyce still likes her new job. She is a telemarketer. She says she likes working from home, but I think she misses the freedom of Hawkins. I do, too. We live in a place called ‘Suburbia.’ You can not walk out into the woods here like you could back at home. There are no spring flowers here. But I am adjusting to it.
I just finished making a diorama for history class. I think it turned out well. Will helped me with it. I was not sure how to make one before, but he showed me the best way. I hope I get an A. I chose Hopper as my hero for the project. I think he would have liked it. I will show you on Saturday.
I am counting down the days until I see you. I miss you so much. I hope you have been enjoying High School as much as I have. I have made new friends and my grades are getting good now. I will have so much more to tell you on Saturday when I can finally see your face.
Love, El
Meanwhile, two time zones away, Max placed her Walkman over her ears and trudged to the back of the school bus, ignoring anyone who dared to look her way and sitting by herself. She dug into her backpack and pulled out the stamped envelope, carving it open messily with her thumb and pulling out the folded letter within.
Dear Max,
I'm sorry that you failed your math test. If it's any consolation, I failed a speech assignment last week. Maybe we'll both have to end up being delinquents together. In my defense, talking in front of big groups makes me get all clammy. I feel like I should get an excuse for that.
Lucas told me that they're doing a campaign about pixie hunters in their new D&D club. I am surprised that you never joined. Wasn't the Tartown campaign your favorite last year? They seem very similar in structure. Because you told me that you don't skateboard anymore, so I was wondering what you even do these days?
Not to be condescending. It's not like I do much either. I've been playing with Art Nouveau lately. Not for any particular reason, I just have trouble focusing on making things that make sense visually. My art club friends think it's cool, though.
Apparently, we're "artists on the brink of a social breakthrough". If that's what you call hotboxing a pizza delivery van and pretending it's a Socratic seminar, then sure. I'm just happy to have friends. They're not the Party, but at least I'm not alone. We've invited El to hang out with us a bunch, but she always says she'd rather find her own friends. She hasn't done that yet. I worry about her sometimes.
That's why I wish you were here. I know it's hard with your move and everything, but I feel like you and El could really stand to have each other around right about now. Of course, not to mention that I miss you, too.
Either way, I'm hoping you get to feeling better. I miss you guys. I'll write again as soon as I can.
Will
Thwack!
Light poured in through the cracked shades of Will's bedroom window as a crumpled soda can from the floor hit him in the face and brought him back to life with a shock.
"What the hell…?" he murmured, rubbing his eyes.
"We are going to be late," El said, standing in the doorway expectantly. "Breakfast is on the table."
Will groaned, rubbing sleep from his eyes and throwing the comforter off of his body. The pen and paper under his arm, the evidence that he’d been trying to write Max another letter the night before, tumbled to the floor as he stumbled out of bed. He haphazardly threw on clothes scattered around his bedroom floor and made his way out the door, backpack and project poster board in hand.
Dustin received his letter Friday morning. He had already read his letter through twice when his mom started knocking on his door.
“Dusty! You're going to be late!” Claudia exclaimed. “What are you even doing in there?”
“Sorry! Coming!” Dustin called, scrambling to find his shirt and hat from the mess on his floor.
“Tsk. How are you going to be ready for your 6am flight tomorrow when you’re running late for the school you go to everyday?” Claudia chided, lightheartedly. “I can’t believe you’re going for an entire week! I'm going to miss you, sweetie.”
Dustin had already set his alarm to wake up at 5am. He had planned out the next twenty hours perfectly to optimize his sleep schedule to make sure he was in tiptop shape to see his girlfriend. The word girlfriend kept buzzing around his head, making him giddy. Dustin looked at his calendar and sighed in relief. One more day. He opened the door to his room, still putting on deodorant.
“You'll be fine! I'll call you Wednesday, remember?” Dustin reassured her, giving her a one arm hug.
“I've already got breakfast on the table,” Claudia said. She grinned at him when he passed by. “This little girlfriend of yours sure has you distracted.”
Claudia was over the moon about El. Ever since she and Max Mayfield had started to visit the year prior, Claudia had doted on her like she was already her daughter-in-law. El was nearly the polar opposite of Dustin - quiet, shy, not as evidently nerdy - but Claudia liked that about her. She had been a dear to have for Thanksgiving. The fact that she was Will's stepsister made it even better. Maybe she would get Joyce as extended family one day, though she'd never tease Dustin about that. Yet. Give it another few years.
“Thanks, mom!” Dustin said. He shoved the sandwich into his mouth. “Gotta go! Mike and I have to talk Hellfire before class. I'll see you tonight!”
“What? Already?”
“Weren't you just telling me to hurry up?”
Claudia laughed. “Okay. Don't forget your lunch. I love you, sweetie.”
“Love you, too, mom!”
Jonathan was glad to have an opportunity to miss school, if nothing else. He didn’t love waiting at the airport at 5am by himself, though. It gave him just a bit too much time to think.
He felt bad about leaving the day before Will’s birthday. He had considered cancelling his flight, but Will had insisted he go. He had left his birthday present on the table and another apology note for leaving. Will had reasoned that fifteen wasn’t that big a deal, he’d only be mad if he missed his sixteenth.
In a strange way, Jonathan had been hoping that Will would have been upset about him missing his birthday. That he would have asked him to stay and Jonathan would have a solid reason to cancel. A reason other than his acceptance letter from Lenora Hills Community that was burning a hole in his pocket.
Jonathan had no idea how he was going to tell Nancy. The only thing they had talked about for the last two weeks was when his letter to Emerson University would arrive, even though he had never even applied. He just had to wait until he inevitably disappointed her.
Jonathan hated disappointing people.
He hadn’t pinpointed the exact reason why going to Emerson scared him so much. Jonathan loved Nancy. He thought Emerson was a great school. It all sounded fine in theory, but the actual process twisted his stomach into knots and made him want to throw up.
Another reason Jonathan didn’t want to get on the plane was, put simply, due to Hawkins being Hawkins. He hated the people there, he always had. At first he had been glad to leave, until he found out that Lenora Hills was just as bad if not worse (there were double the number of posers), but at least there he was invisible. Everyone knew his name in Hawkins. He had about a hundred different rumours spread about him. He couldn’t get away. He didn’t expect that the town would collectively try to run him out with pitchforks, but he was already anticipating the snide remarks.
But he felt listless in Lenora. At least he knew his place in Hawkins. He always knew he had a place by Nancy’s side. Seeing Nancy would set him straight. It would make him smile again. He was willing to brave the storm of shitheads if he got to see her again.
So when he was called to board the plane, he did.
Running late, Lucas and Erica peddled their bikes as fast as they could in order to make it to school on time.
"This is your fault, you know," Erica sniped. "If you weren't so obsessed with making sure your hairline was so goddamn perfect, I wouldn't be at risk of missing my English presentation!"
Lucas rolled his eyes, his unbuttoned letterman jacket flipping around him in the wind. "You're one to talk. You were in the bathroom for thirty minutes this morning. Where did you even get lip gloss anyway? Mom will kill you if she sees you wearing it."
Erica scoffed. "I'll have you know, this was a gift from Tina. And Mom isn't gonna find out. Right?"
"I dunno…" Lucas shrugged. "You know my game is tonight, right?"
"Yes, I know," Erica replied. "I told you I'd be there if I couldn't find anything better to do, didn't I?"
Lucas chuckled at that. His sister talked a big game, but the truth was that Erica had been there to see him ride the bench every game that year.
"Sure, nerd."
"Shut up, nerd."
The two pulled into the parking lot of the two schools only to nearly be run over by a brown beamer pulling into the drop-off lane.
“Hey! Watch where you’re going, asshat!” Erica yelled.
The passenger door opened and Robin ran out, her feathered marching band hat clutched in her hands. “Oh my God, guys, I am so sorry, I-”
“I’m not!” Steve leaned his head out of the driver’s side window. “Watch yourself, Sinclair!”
“You came hurdling into us!” Lucas cried.
“...Touche.” was all Steve said in response. He turned back over to Robin. “Robs, just remember-”
“I’m not taking any of your dumb advice, shitlips!” Robin scoffed, grabbing her backpack from the backseat. “I’ll see you later, can you please leave?”
“What? Am I embarrassing you or something?” Steve asked.
Robin looked around, at where the two Sinclair siblings were still staring at her. “Yes.”
Steve zoomed off. Erica pressed on towards the middle school while Lucas and Robin walked into the high school together.
“What was he trying to give you advice on this time?” Lucas asked. “Just so that I know to do the opposite.”
“Trust me, you don’t wanna know about this one.”
Lucas shrugged. If that was her answer, then it was probably something gross and very Steve. So, he let it be.
“So what do you say, Mollie? Can I put you down for volumes A-F, or should we go ahead and do the whole set?” Joyce asked, the phone rested between her cheek and her shoulder. Her job was easy, practiced. If there was ever a customer service script Joyce had defaulted to at Melvald's, it was ten times worse as a telemarketer.
As usual, Joyce was multi-tasking. The Byers’ house was mostly unpacked, but the boys had so many little things from their childhood that Joyce found it hard to part with. She never used to be sentimental, but the last three years had changed her.
Besides, it wasn't just their things she was unpacking. El didn't have much, but Hopper had left everything to El, and he had a ton. They had gotten rid of most of it, but El was a sentimental person, and there had been lots she wanted to keep. Joyce had considered saying no, but that would have felt cruel, considering…everything.
Those were the boxes still left to unpack. The painful ones, like the one Joyce had her hands on. She paused when she uncovered Jim's police uniform.
“Oh, I'm not so sure-” the customer on the other end of the line started.
“Hey, Mollie, I'm gonna have to call you back, okay?” She hung up the phone before she got a response.
Joyce knelt down on the couch, holding the uniform. It still smelled like him, even though she had washed everything thoroughly before packing. Another little piece of him. It was like he was still lingering in the house. She felt the same way when she sat down on the couch. She could still hear Bob's laughter if she closed her eyes. It was confusing, hearing Bob's laughter and smelling Hopper's scent. They were in constant conflict, except for of course, both of them being dead.
Two potential futures that Joyce could have had. She saw them both so clearly. Growing old with Bob on the couch, watching TV dinners. Going on adventures with Hopper, getting into trouble. But instead she was here, in California, which had never been her plan, grasping at straws to try to keep herself together while trying to fill the space for three kids now.
El wasn't the problem. Joyce had always been fond of El, and it took no time for Joyce to love her like her own. She had just given her the family haircut. She even looked like a Byers. But Joyce knew she would never be Hopper, and that El would miss him forever and that there was nothing Joyce could do to fix it. She had never planned on having another kid, especially not one who was so complex, but Joyce would do her best to help her in any way she could.
She was so grateful for Jonathan. He seemed to be the only person who made El come out of her shell. El was a particularly moody child, which wasn’t anything new for Joyce, but she refused to open up. Joyce could tell El still had trouble seeing her as a mom, which Joyce understood. But she had hoped that El would know she was a safe person to talk to.
For Will, El rarely talked to him. Joyce didn't understand why. She had hoped that since they were the same age, they would be the best of friends. Will had certainly tried, but El was like a brick wall. But with Jonathan, it seemed easier for her. Perhaps it was how proudly Jonathan wore the “freak” label that Joyce told him to knock off that made El feel more at ease. Joyce didn't think either of them should say that about themselves, though she knew why they felt that way.
She didn't look forward to the week without Jonathan at home though, that was for sure. With Will’s detachment from reality and El’s temper, it was sure to be a hell of a week.
Jonathan braced himself as he walked towards the lobby of the Indianapolis Airport. It was noon, perfect timing for Nancy to pick him up during her school lunch break. Plus, she had a spare afterward, so they could get a little time together alone.
Now close to Hawkins, Jonathan felt his nerves catching up to him. He had about twenty to thirty more minutes until they breached the town and Jonathan didn’t know if he was ready yet. The place that had been hell on earth for him before any portals to other dimensions had ripped his world apart. Jonathan felt his breathing change involuntarily, like a voice in the back of his head was telling him to turn back. He wondered if he could get back on the plane and-
“Jonathan!” Nancy's voice rang through the lobby. She waved at him. He relaxed, but only a little. She looked beautiful. She was wearing a blue and pink skirt and a pastel purple cardigan, and her hair had been curled. It was a bit longer now than the last time he'd seen her. Her style had changed a lot in the last few years. She looked a lot more like herself. So, she looked beautiful. His face broke into a smile, as he walked up to hug her.
“I missed you,” Jonathan said, honestly.
“Well, don't worry! You're going to see me everyday once it's August,” Nancy said, kissing him. “Has your letter arrived yet?”
Jonathan flinched. He hoped Nancy hadn't noticed. “No, not yet. But mom will call as soon as we get it.”
Nancy nodded, slowly. “They're really waiting til the last minute to send it out. They’re keeping you on your toes, I guess. I was hoping we could show our acceptance letters off today at the Tigers game.”
“Tigers game?” Jonathan asked, not bothering to mask his distaste.
“Yes, didn't I tell you? I have to write the story for it tonight. It's for work,” Nancy said. She picked up on his uneasiness. “Is that…going to be a problem?”
Yes. “No, no problem.” Jonathan hated sports almost as much as he hated just about everyone at Hawkins High other than Nancy. It was the last place he wanted to be. The nauseous feeling was coming back.
“Are you sure?” Nancy asked, slowly.
“Yeah, yeah. I mean, I hate sports, but it’s just one day, right?” Jonathan said. He wasn’t convincing anyone, especially not Nancy. She paused.
“Well, okay. Let's head out. We can grab lunch on the way, maybe? You can tell me all about your photography class in Lenora,” Nancy said, trying to make peace. Jonathan smiled.
“Only if you tell me everything about your newspaper job,” Jonathan said as they headed towards the exit. They weren't even in Hawkins yet and Jonathan felt like he had eyes on him.
Will had been zoning out in class. The My Hero project with the visual medium had been a breeze for him. He could have done the project in his sleep. He had just finished presenting his project on Alan Turing a moment ago and now he was content to not listen for the next half hour. He still knew he’d get an easy B+, maybe an A-. He had created the poster board with Argyle the night before, after cramming to help El finish her diorama. Painting D&D figurines for the last eight years had paid off.
“Let’s see who’s going to have to follow that,” Will’s history teacher said. He was finding it harder and harder to remember names. “Jane!”
Will took a deep breath. He knew she was nervous. He smiled at her and gave her a thumbs up as El made her way up to the front of the class. She was breathless already. It looked like she had got replaced by Mike for a moment given how fidgety she was.
Will nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a foot rubbing against his pant leg. He turned his head to see Brittany, a girl he shared an unfortunate number of classes with, giving him a shy smile. Will quickly pulled his leg away and avoided eye contact. He felt bad. She had no idea that he couldn’t like her. But he wasn’t going to tell her that. He couldn’t.
“For my hero, I chose my dad,” El started. She was so anxious. Will felt his heart sink as he heard snickering around the room. He gave her a patient smile to let her go on. El didn’t make eye contact with him, pointedly.
Will had wanted to tell her to choose someone else for her My Hero project, but he didn’t want to give her a reason to be pissed at him. Ever since moving there, El had been standoffish with Will. It was like she wanted nothing to do with him. He had tried everything. Movie nights, painting together - he had even tried to teach her to play D&D, but nothing worked. He just wanted to make this place less awful for her than it already was.
He suppressed a groan when Angela raised a manicured hand. What did she want now? To say more antagonizing shit to see if she could make El crack?
Angela was a bitch. Will hated her. For whatever reason, she had latched onto El and seemed to make it her life's mission to embarrass her. She was the worst kind of bully. At least with boys they would just punch you and call you a slur, but Angela seemed to inherently know all of El’s deepest insecurities and would pick them out one by one. Will had offered to talk to their teachers about it, but El had shut him down.
“I just don’t think that that’s what the assignment meant by historical,” Angela said. Will dug his heels into the floor. “I think it was talking about famous people.”
“Well, yes, by the assignment's guidelines, you’d be correct,” Their teacher said.
“My dad is famous,” El started, her voice small. Will bit the inside of his lip. “He was in the newspaper. And he saved a lot of people in a mallfire. He was a hero, and he was my hero too.” It looked like she was tearing up.
“That’s not what I meant at all,” Angela said. Will hated the smug expression on her face. He was too scared to say anything to her himself, but he wished he could. Will was an easy target, though. He knew that about himself. If he said something, it would all be over for him, too.
El finished her presentation, and shakily went to sit down. Will tried to smile at her, but she ignored him. Will didn’t pay attention to any of the following presentations. His mind wouldn’t stay focused. When the bell rang, he immediately ran to catch up with her before she could disappear down the hall.
“El! El, listen, it wasn’t that bad, I promise-” Will tried.
“Friends don’t lie,” El insisted, tears streaming down her face.
“It’s not a lie! Come on, El, it’s going to be okay. You did a good job. I liked your diorama,” Will said. El gave him a dirty look.
“Just leave me alone.”
The halls of Hawkins High School were bustling and busy, laughter and noise permeating the air, but Max kept herself flush to the wall, content to be unnoticed and unseen by her peers. The only noise she needed was the music coursing through her veins courtesy of the Walkman, truly her best friend these days now that El and Will were physically three thousand miles away and Lucas, Dustin, and Mike were metaphorically so.
"Max!"
At least, she'd hoped.
After three months of panicking that she was starting to feel the pain of nothingness every time Lucas kissed her or held her hand, Max had made the decision to break it off for good over Thanksgiving Break. The last few times she'd let him go, it was almost a dare to see if Lucas could win her back, with an advantage- she was always gonna be his. This time, though, it had a more serious air. They talked like grown ups, and she doesn't know about Lucas, but Max knows it was the first time she cried after one of their breakups.
"Max, wait up!"
Lucas got the hint. Eventually. But he still lit up whenever Max passed in the hall, still talked to her and pulled her into conversations with the Party even though she already told them she wasn't interested in A/V anymore or Mike's stupid D&D club.
Eventually, he veered in front of her, stopping her where she stood.
"Hey." Max said stiffly. After a second, she pulled her Walkman off of her ears, to be polite.
"Um, I was wondering if you wanted to come to my game tonight," Lucas said, handing her a ticket. "You can sit with Erica and the guys."
Max frowned down at the ticket. "Yeah…a bunch of loud, sweaty people yelling and the risk of getting a face full of rubber leather? I'll pass."
"W-wait."
Lucas held out a hand to stop Max as she attempted to walk around him.
"C'mon. Talk to me." Lucas asked, pleading in his eyes.
"There's nothing to talk about," Max sniped. "And even if there was, I don't exactly feel the need to go telling my ex-boyfriend all of my business."
Lucas' shoulders slumped. "But- but I'm still your friend, right? Could you at least talk to me that way?"
"It has nothing to do with you," Max said. "I just don't want to. That should be enough."
She shoved the ticket back into his hands.
"I mean, it is, I just-" Lucas stammered. "Look, we miss having you around, all right? All of us. The Party's not the same without you."
Max rolled her eyes. "Yeah, it's not the same without El or Will either, I don't see why I make that much of a difference."
"That's just it! We need each other even more now that they're gone." Lucas insisted.
"Look, people drift apart. They change," Max said. "I've changed. You should too. Good luck at your game."
Max walked away, brushing Lucas' shoulder as she passed. He watched her go, mouth agape.
As she turned the corner, stifling a sniffle, Max was alerted to the world around her when a figure came barreling out of Ms. Kelley's counseling office in a pleated green and yellow skirt, bellowing with tears.
Max cocked an eyebrow. Chrissy Cunningham had just left the guidance counselor. Crying, no less.
Oh, well. None of her business. Max certainly wouldn't want people knowing what she talked to Ms. Kelley about.
The familiar smell of teenage sweat and processed lunch meat permeated the halls of Hawkins High. Jonathan avoided the urge to openly gag. At least at Lenora Hills High the floors got bleached once a week. Jonathan wasn't convinced they had done that since he was a freshman.
Jonathan did not want to go to this pep rally. It was already a hard sell to go to the Tigers game; he didn't see why he had to do this, too. He would have been happy to sit in the Wheeler basement reading his Agatha Christie for English, or even to sit in Nancy's car and listen to The Cure for the millionth time, but apparently not. For whatever reason, Nancy needed him there for her story.
Unlike at the airport where it had just been a feeling, here he knew there were eyes on him. Students were openly gawking at them. Jonathan scowled at them. If Nancy noticed, she didn't say anything.
They headed towards the gym.
“Is that Pervy Byers?” A shrill voice asked. Jonathan gritted his teeth. Hadn't Carol graduated already? “I thought we finally got rid of you.”
Jonathan said nothing. Carol was chewing gum with an amused look on her face.
“Jonathan, come on,” Nancy said, tugging on his arm to keep moving.
“It is! And Princess Wheeler, too. You two are still going at it, huh?” Tommy asked, joining Carol at her side. Jonathan had been positive he should have graduated.
“Guess little Nancy has a stalker kink,” Carol mused. She pushed out her chest and imitated moans. “Oh Jonathan, make sure the rope and blindfolds are on tight. I want this to scar.”
Tommy laughed. Jonathan felt his fists beginning to clench. Nancy crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.
“Oh, shut up, Carol,” Nancy said, dismissively.
“Oh Nancy, let me take more photos of you. We could make a movie,” Tommy moaned. He made a lewd gesture.
“Oh Jonathan, let's fuck in the graveyard! No one understands us,” Carol moaned. They were being too loud. Everyone was staring. Jonathan's heart rate had picked up. Nancy tried to pull him forward.
“Oh Nancy, come help me bury my brother in the woods,” Tommy moaned. Nancy gawked.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Nancy asked.
“Just saying what everyone's thinking,” Tommy smirked. Jonathan wanted to fucking kill him. He wanted to push Tommy's face into the locker grate. He took a deep breath so he wouldn’t start hyperventilating.
But he was right. Everyone in Hawkins did think that about Jonathan.
Jonathan pushed past them, making his way towards the exit.
“Jonathan, wait!” Nancy called.
“Oh, did we hurt Jonny's wittle feewings?” Carol pouted.
Nancy sighed. The pep rally was about to begin. She needed to get in there. It was her job.
She ran after Jonathan.
The boys locker room was a lot more chilled out than it normally was during a regular practice, as the team was simply changing into their sweats for the pep rally- no showers, no towel-pulling, just a bunch of loud teenage boys in an echoey space to bother each other with.
Lucas trudged in, tossing his duffel down on a bench and running a hand down his face.
"Oh- I know that look."
A hand slapped down on Lucas' back. Breathing out a laugh, he turned to see the team captain, Jason, giving him a funny smile.
"Lemme guess," Jason started. "Trouble with your girl again?"
"Well- yeah," Lucas shrugged. "The trouble is that she's not my girl, I guess."
"Dude, don't even worry about it," Jason quipped. "As soon as we win that championship game, she'll be right back in your arms."
Lucas scoffed. "I can guarantee you that she doesn't care in the slightest if we win the game."
"Then why are you bothering?" another one of their teammates, a meathead named Andy chimed in.
"Because she cares about a lot more than whether or not I can win a sports game," Lucas said in defense. "She cared before I was even on the team."
"But it seems like she doesn't care now," Andy continued. "And now you're on the team, single, and a fine-ass piece of freshman meat!"
Lucas rolled his eyes as the boys woofed and hollered.
"Seriously! You could bang your way down the line of the cheer squad with street cred like that-" another boy, Chance, said. He paused when he saw Jason’s dead glare. "Except for Christian Christine, of course."
Jason sauntered over to Chance, who looked down at the floor. Jason slung his arm around his teammate tightly and gestured to Lucas and all the others listening.
"Of course, man." Jason said tensely. "...Of course, Lucas could go around screwing any girl who throws herself at him. What's the worst that could happen? Chlamydia outbreak? Oh, but you already got that one covered a few years back, didn't you, Chance?"
"Shut the fuck up, man." Chance shoved Jason out of the way with a breath of laughter.
Jason shook his head and looked at Lucas, lowering his voice. "Wasn't kidding. Sophomore year. You can ask Nurse Collins."
“…Ew.”
Grimacing, Lucas walked past Jason and to his locker.
"Seriously, if you want this girl, and this girl only, then get her," the captain continued. "Let the power of the letterman do its thing, bro."
Lucas laughed as he pulled his trainers from his locker and started to put them on. He felt someone sit next to him, looking up to see Patrick, another teammate of his.
"You should really listen to Jason, man." Patrick said in a mocking tone. "He's been with Chrissy since the eighth grade, too."
"Really?" Lucas asked.
"For sure, and they've only broken up-" Patrick counted on his fingers. "Twenty-three times since then. Lot less than you and Max, right?"
Lucas tried to pay no mind to the fact that Patrick might be his only teammate that knew Max's name, and more so on the number he just provided. "Twenty-three? Are you serious?"
"I am not even exaggerating a little bit."
Lucas and Patrick laughed, looking over to see the rest of the boys dicking around with each other.
"And- Chance?"
"Oh, yeah…he was telling the truth about that."
Avoiding the urge to gag, Lucas shoved his feet into the sneakers and sat up, now taking notice of the shiny glint of purple on Patrick's face.
"Dude, what happened to you?" he asked, inspecting the wound.
Patrick slapped a hand over his face. He shook his head. "Nothing. Bad fall. Oh, but if any of the girls ask, I fought off a mugger or something cool like that."
"Sure, dude. Fine."
"Alright, Tigers!"
Their attention was brought to the front of the room, where Jason was now standing on a bench and addressing the team as loudly as he could.
"We are gonna go out there as a team, alright? You know the drill," Jason explained. "All you guys gotta do is sit there and look pretty while I do the talking. Got it?"
A few lackluster whoops rang up from the group. Jason fumed, stomping his feet.
"I said, got it?"
The locker room erupted with hoops and hollers, people swinging towels over their heads and chest bumping and doing whatever other things were considered "manly" celebratory actions.
"Then let's get out there, Tigers!"
When they made their way out onto the gym floor to an adequate amount of applause, Lucas scoured the crowd for his friends. Immediately, he honed in on a few rows back, where Mike, Dustin, and Max all sat next to each other. Mike and Dustin were whispering to each other, but Max was in another world completely, staring off in the distance and seemingly trying to look anywhere but at Lucas.
Lucas tried his luck anyway, waving to her, beaming in delight as she offered a small wave back. Patrick nudged him on the shoulder.
Principal Higgins was barely done talking when Jason pulled the microphone from his grip, strutting out to address the crowd with that peacock-like golden boy charm that didn't come nearly as natural to him as it did his predecessor, Steve. His speech was rousing, sure, but Lucas couldn't help but freeze up when Billy and Heather were name-dropped, right before Jason mentioned Hopper and had the freshman staring at his feet in front of the whole school.
When Lucas looked up, his friends were gone.
Specifically, he saw Max storming out the door, Mike and Dustin trying to scoot around the cheering high school students to follow her.
"We embarrassed those candy-asses in their own house!"
The eruption of cheers from the stands drew Lucas back to the task at hand, clapping along with the others as they relished in the applause of their classmates.
Just not the classmates Lucas wanted cheering for him.
"Hey, you okay?"
Max turned to see Mike and Dustin catching up to her in the empty hallway.
She scoffed. "Jesus, can't any of you guys take a hint?!"
"Uh- well, it was weird cause he mentioned- you- you know," Dustin started. "And you left kind of dramatically, so we just wanted to make sure, you know-"
"I'm fine," Max insisted. "It's just like you said. What he said was weird, yeah. But did you guys even notice how once he said it, everybody started looking at me? Hm? So yeah, I didn't wanna be around it anymore. Shocking, isn't it?"
Mike shook his head. "No, no, not at all, and it was- it was weird for us too, y'know. I don't like loud places. And you seemed upset, so…"
"You guys should go back," Max nodded. "You're Lucas' friends, he'll be upset that you're gone."
"Yeah, but you're our friend too, and you're upset right now, so-" Mike started.
"I told you I'm fine, Wheeler," Max insisted. "So blow off. Have fun at the game tonight."
She turned and started to walk off down the hallway. Mike and Dustin met eyes.
"Tonight?" Mike asked. "They just had a game last night."
"How is that even possible?" Dustin followed.
"It's called a tournament, dinguses," they heard Max calling from down the hall, still not looking at them. "You play game after game until there's only one team left. That's why they'd be the champions?"
She disappeared around the corner.
"But we have a game tonight, too." Dustin said sadly.
"Max! I didn't know-"
The two boys turned to see Lucas appearing as the pep rally let out and students began to pour into the hallways. He was still in his basketball getup, not even bothering to change before chasing after them.
"She's still…" Dustin shrugged. "That."
Lucas frowned. "What are we gonna do?"
"What are we gonna do?" Mike asked. "What are you gonna do? What do you mean the championship is tonight?"
"I thought that would be a given, seeing as we won the game last night." Lucas said in confusion.
"Yeah, but our game is tonight," Dustin said. "Hellfire?"
"I know, I know, but-" Lucas looked around. "Can't you just postpone it?"
"What?" Dustin asked. "It's the end of the campaign. Why don't you just ask your coach to postpone your game, huh?"
Lucas groaned. "It's not the same. You guys know that. Look, I'd really, really like to have you there tonight."
Mike stuttered. "I-I guess we could postpone, but you know what the upperclassmen in the club are like. They came to get away from the popular crowd, how do you think they're gonna feel when I push back the game so we can join them?"
"It's not just the popular crowd, it's my crowd," Lucas said. "I know some of the guys can be jerks sometimes, but some of them are really cool. I really like being on the team. I like not getting bullied for once. It's the safest place for me to be right now."
Mike and Dustin paused as students milled around them. They shared a look. It was true, however much they didn't like facing the reality of it.
"Okay, fine," Mike said. "I'll tell the guys at lunch."
"Thank you." Lucas smiled.
“Hey, Will, check it out, it’s Will the Wise,” Argyle said, holding up a tiny chiseled wood carving. He tossed it over to where Will was sitting in the art room. Will barely had a chance to catch it. He grinned.
“Aren’t you supposed to be making a bird house right now? It’s due in half an hour,” Will teased. Argyle shrugged.
“Seemed like a better use of my time,” Argyle said. “Besides, I’m almost done. I just have to paint the entrance. Should I make it a pot leaf?”
Will rolled his eyes. “You’ll get an F if you do that.”
“Yeah, but it’d be funny,” Argyle grinned. He went to sit down next to Will. “Besides, I have been getting straight A’s in art class. What’s one carving gonna do?”
“It’s twenty percent of your grade,” Will countered.
“Meh, worth it,” Argyle shrugged. Will laughed. “Remind me of the plan for tomorrow again.”
“We’re heading to the airport for 11:30 to pick up Dustin, then we’re heading to Rink-O-Mania for the party,” Will said. Argyle nodded. The door to the art room burst open dramatically. A loud sigh echoed through the room. Will waved at Vickie, one of his other best friends from Lenora Hills. She was already pacing before she even put her bag down.
“They moved the start time of my retreat!” Vickie complained. “They moved it from 4 o’clock to 12 o’clock, meaning I’m not going to be able to make it to the party. This is ridiculous! They just called my mom like, an hour ago to tell her of the new plans, and now I have to replan my whole day, and worst of all, it means that I’m not even going to be at Rink-O-Mania and meet Will’s cool friend from Hawkins and gossip about Jane’s boyfriend with Argyle!”
Will giggled. “It’s fine, Vic. I know you’d be there if you could.”
“But I should have been able to! I’ve been looking forward to your birthday for weeks!” Vickie exclaimed, sitting down in the other chair at the table.
“But hey, more time for the ladies, right?” Argyle teased. “A whole four extra hours. Bow chica-wow-” Vickie lightly hit his arm, rolling her eyes.
Vickie was going to an all-girls conference for climate change. It was for the entirety of March break, and was overnight. Argyle had been teasing her relentlessly about it for weeks.
“It’s not going to be like that,” Vickie said. Will raised an eyebrow.
“It’s going to be a bunch of flowery hippie chicks talking about peace and love, dude. You know who digs that shit? Girls who like other girls,” Argyle said.
“And yet it would still take a miracle to find a girlfriend.” Vickie lamented.
Vickie and Argyle were two of the only gay people Will had ever met. They weren’t out to a lot of people, but they were out and proud within the confines of the art club. It was like Will had entered a parallel universe when he got to Lenora Hills, one where everything was better. He had found people just like him - artsy, nerdy, and, well…
Will wasn’t out yet to anyone in the art club, though he wasn’t exactly trying to hide it, either. He was waiting for the right moment to tell Argyle and Vickie. Vickie had been convinced that he had a boyfriend back home named Max after seeing him writing letters to her in his notebook. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that Max was a girl, and therefore not his type. He was hoping he would have birthday courage the next day. Though now knowing it would just be Argyle, Will already felt himself chickening out.
“Who’s this little guy?” Vickie asked, grabbing the wood figure out of Will’s hands.
“It’s Will the Wise. He’s my D&D character. Argyle made him for me,” Will said.
“Aw, that’s so cute! Argyle, since when do you play D&D?” Vickie asked, gently thumbing the figure.
“I don’t,” Argyle shrugged. “I saw Will sketching it the other day in class. Asked him about it. Call it artistic inspiration.”
Vickie smirked. “Are you saying that Will is your muse?”
Will felt his cheeks tinge. Argyle laughed. “With a face like that? Why wouldn’t he be?”
Will rolled his eyes and pushed against Argyle’s shoulder, bashfully. He hated it when they teased him like that. He wasn’t anyone’s muse. He had accepted that a long time ago.
“So why are we going to Rink-o-Mania anyway, man?” Argyle asked. “That doesn’t seem like your scene.”
“Yeah, I was surprised when I got the invite. Especially since there’s a new display opening at the art gallery this weekend,” Vickie said. Will sighed.
“Jane likes it. I thought it might cheer her up,” Will shrugged. It was still weird to call El ‘Jane.’ He had gotten more used to it, but he didn’t think she had. She flinched whenever she heard it.
“Yeah, but it isn’t Jane’s birthday,” Argyle said.
“She’s been so down lately. I just want to make her feel better,” Will said. “Besides, I don’t hate roller skating.”
“You sure about that?” Vickie laughed. She had gone with Will and El to the Rink-O-Mania one time, and had sat with him at one of the booths for half the trip while he complained about his feet hurting. He knew he wasn’t fooling anyone.
“It’s gonna be fine. Dustin will be there. Jane will be happy. That’s all I want for my birthday,” Will said. “Really.”
“Whatever you say, man,” Argyle shrugged. Vickie reached over and teased Will’s hair.
“Are you getting a haircut for your birthday, too?” She joked. “If you keep it up like this, your hair is gonna be as long as Argyle’s.”
“But not quite as luscious,” Argyle said, flipping his hair for effect. Will laughed. He had let his hair grow to an inch above his shoulders while living in California. It came with the lifestyle. “Anyway, want to smoke a joint before the bell?”
“God yes,” Vickie said. Will nodded, and grabbed his stuff to go.
Max grasped the bathroom sink. If she clenched it hard enough, maybe she could will her headache to go away. She didn't know if it was something about the weather causing them or what, but she was getting real sick of dealing with them everyday. She grabbed the bottle of Advil out of her bag and took three.
She heard dry heaving from one of the stalls. Max paused. It sounded like some girl was sick. Normally Max would mind her business, but this gave her pause. Her gut told her something was off. Max took a step towards the door.
“Hey, are you okay?” Max called.
“Just-just go away,” The girl called. She sounded as miserable as Max felt. She recognized the voice, too. It was Chrissy Cunningham.
“Are you sure? Can I get you some water, or-or a tampon or-”
“Just leave me alone!”
Right. Max grabbed her things and headed for the exit. She didn't know how a tampon would help her with throwing up, anyway. Max hesitated again at the door, but ultimately left. Though as she walked down the hall, she swore she could hear the faint sound of screaming coming from the bathroom.
It was probably just in her head. She put on her headphones.
The clatter of Mike's tray against the lunch table felt like it reverberated throughout the room, but he knew it was likely just his head. The fluorescent lights sent a sting of pain behind his eyes earning him odd looks as he sat down.
The eclectic gaggle of upperclassmen that Mike and Dustin sat with at lunch were in no way unaware of their strange outward appearance. All it had taken at the beginning of the year was for them to talk just a little too loudly about the base HP of a vampire for Hellfire to find them. After their last DM had "vanished under mysterious circumstances" (he'd either transferred schools or moved to Wyoming or died, and no one could seem to give the freshmen a solid answer), they quickly offered Mike the spot, as none of them could be bothered to write new campaigns themselves.
But Mike was by no means in charge of the club. No, he could pretend all he wanted that he had power, but all year he had abided strictly by the whims of the players in his party, specifically the older ones with seniority who could change their minds and toss him in a dumpster any day now.
Which is why it took so long after sitting down at the lunch table for Dustin to nudge him as if to tell him to get on with it.
"Um, so, guys," Mike started, addressing the group. They take a second to quiet down and actually turn their attention to Mike. "Guys!"
Heads turned. Mike's breath turned shallow.
"So, the- um, basically, I have to postpone the game tonight," Mike started. "Until after Spring Break."
The table was silent for a little bit.
And then they burst into laughter.
"That's funny, Mike," one of the guys cackled. "Tell another one!"
"I'm not kidding," Mike says, firmer in his words. "We're pushing the game back to the fifth of April. Two weeks from today."
"Are you serious?" another member of the club asked.
Mike nodded. A ring of groans rang out around the table.
"Seriously?!"
"C'mon, man, why?"
Mike grimaced. He looked over at Dustin, who shrugged.
"If you must know," Mike explained. "The basketball team made it to the championships. So Lucas has to play tonight."
There was a solid 0.2 seconds of silence before the table erupted at Mike, who wanted to bury his head in his runny mashed potatoes and never be seen again.
Out in the woods, Jonathan finally felt like he could breathe.
After the pep rally had ended, Nancy had left for her final class of the day and Jonathan had an hour by himself. So much for Nancy’s spare. Yes, he was technically hiding, but he’d rather feel cowardly than like he was under attack. Seeing Tommy and Carol had set off every big bad feeling that he had tried to push down for Nancy’s sake. But suddenly every bad thing he had ever heard about himself was flashing through his mind like a train going off the rails.
Freak. Perv. He probably killed his brother. Nancy’s only dating him because she’s a masochist. He’s just like his dad. Future school shooter.
All he wanted to do was run as far away as he could. Why did he think coming back was the answer? Why did he think it would fix any of his problems? Even if he was alone in Lenora, at least he could hide. Jonathan just wanted to scream.
As if on cue, a scream rang out through the woods.
His feet moved faster than his brain.
He found a girl in a cheerleader uniform - Lizzy or Chrissy or something - standing in front of a tree. She was staring intently at it. Her whole body was trembling. He could hear her muttering under her breath. He took a cautious step forward.
“Hey,” Jonathan said, gently. His voice must have spooked her. She began backing up, all the way into Jonathan. She jumped, turning around and putting a hand over her chest.
“Oh my gosh!” She exclaimed, sucking in a deep breath. “You scared me!”
“Sorry,” Jonathan said, sheepishly. “You kind of scared me, too. I heard you. I just wanted to check and make sure you were okay.”
The girl stared at him, recognition dawning on her face. “Oh jeez, I probably looked just like your mother.” Her eyes widened and she slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh my god, did I just say that? I am so, so sorry! That was really mean!”
Jonathan grimaced. “I mean, yeah, you looked like her a little bit.”
“I really didn’t mean anything by it. I like your mom, she’s nice. She used to give me discounts on chocolate bars, back when…” The girl trailed off, a guilty expression painting her face.
“It’s fine. I’ve heard people say way worse things about her. You barely cracked the top one hundred,” Jonathan shrugged. She gave him another apologetic look.
“Well, at least your mom had a solid reason for screaming in the middle of the day. I, um, saw you guys fight that one time, and, um, anyway- what I mean to say is, she was right. Your little brother came home. She wasn't just…crazy,” The cheerleader said, with a nervous laugh.
“No, she wasn't,” Jonathan agreed. “She was right the whole time. She never gave up on him. Without her, we never would have found Will and brought him home.”
“She sounds awesome,” She said. She had a funny expression on her face that Jonathan couldn’t quite read.
“I doubt you’re crazy either, though. There's a lot of things in this town that can make you feel that way. Sorry, what's your name?”
“Oh! It's Chrissy,” She said. Oh yes, Chrissy Cunningham, Queen of Hawkins High. She was famous in town. One of the preps. Someone Jonathan knew to steer clear of, if the cheerleader uniform didn’t already give that away. “And you're Jonathan Byers.”
“That's me. I promise I'm not here to, uh, kill you or whatever the people say.”
Chrissy looked taken aback. “I didn’t think that. I’ve never believed those rumours, you know.” Jonathan raised his eyebrows. He didn’t expect that. “I mean, you tried so hard to look for Will, too. You put up all those posters for him at school. He’s a sweet kid, by the way. I asked him to dance at the Snowball that one year when I saw him sitting alone. I hope that he’s doing okay.”
Jonathan smiled. He felt his shoulders relax. “Yeah, he’s doing great. He’s found a new group of friends, he loves his art class - it’s been better.”
“Has it been better for you? Being out of this town?” Chrissy asked.
Jonathan shrugged. “Fine, I guess.”
“Well, it’s got to be better than here!” Chrissy said, with a nervous laugh.
“What? Chrissy Cunningham, Queen of Hawkins High thinks there’s somewhere better than Hawkins High?” Jonathan asked, light-heartedly. Chrissy stiffened. “Oh, I mean, I don’t know.”
“No, it’s just…this place can be a lot,” Chrissy sighed. “The people here…”
“Yeah,” Jonathan agreed. Chrissy was quiet for a moment, like she was deciding something. She took a look at Jonathan before speaking again.
“Does this place ever make you feel like you’re losing your mind?” Chrissy asked.
“Is that even a question?” Jonathan asked, laughing nervously. “Yeah, absolutely. This place can get under your skin. Not to mention the people. They’re horrible.”
Chrissy laughed. “Yeah, most of them.”
“For you, too?” Jonathan asked, his eyebrows furrowing. He never thought that, looking at Chrissy. She had a big group of friends. She was popular.
“Well, some people are nice. I like the girls on the squad. But, I don’t know. People will just decide something about you and suddenly…”
“They’ve fit you into a box.”
“Exactly!”
“So this town makes you feel like you’re from Mars, too?”
“Every day,” Chrissy said, nodding her head. “But I think I’m just actually crazy. Not like your mom, who was right when people told her she was wrong, but…I just…”
“Keep seeing things?”
Chrissy looked up, in shock. Jonathan swallowed.
“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you. You’re not any crazier than I am, anyway,” Jonathan said. He took a deep breath. “Can you tell me about them? What you’ve been seeing?”
“Oh, I dunno,” Chrissy said, kicking the ground. “It’s sweet, what you said, but if I actually told you…” She trailed off.
“Try me. You really think I’ll call you a freak? Or spread some rumors? What have you got to lose?” Jonathan asked, lightly. He sat down at the picnic table. Chrissy sat down across from him. She looked down at her hands, wringing them nervously before she began. Jonathan gave her an encouraging look.
“I dunno…” Chrissy said, shrugging her shoulders.
“You don’t have to, but even if I think you’re completely off your rocker, I’m not gonna make you feel bad,” Jonathan promised. Chrissy looked up at him. She chewed on her lip. He braced himself for the worst.
“I keep having these…visions. These really scary nightmares, but it’s happening in the daytime. Like…I keep seeing this stupid grandfather clock, and this monster, or maybe a man…and I think he wants to kill me,” Chrissy said, whispering the last part. Her eyes grew misty. “And I’m so scared, because Mrs. Kelley tells me that it’s all in my head, but I can see it so clearly, like he’s actually there, and…and…I just want it to stop.” She choked back a sob.
Jonathan felt like he crashed into a brick wall. It was happening again. He didn’t know how or why, but it was back. Just like with Will, it wormed its way into this girl's head and was hurting her, like it hurt him. Jonathan leaned across the table.
“I believe you,” He said. “And I think I know a way that I can help.”
“Help? How?”
“You know how Will went missing? Well, my mom saw a monster, and it's what took Will. I saw it, too. Nancy and I fought it, and we won. If this monster is giving you nightmares, then there might be a way to stop it. And before you start thinking I'm crazy, I have proof.”
Chrissy looked up at him in shock. “You're serious?”
“I wish I wasn't. I know the bell is about to ring, so why don't we meet up tonight after the game? I'll come find you after school and we'll get in contact with someone who can help.”
Chrissy stared at him for a moment before her face broke out into a smile. She let out a relieved laugh. “Thank you, Jonathan.”
“It’s no problem.”
“Hey, Will, you're gonna want to see this, dude,” Argyle said, staring out the window of the art classroom. The two of them had been dicking around for their last block of the day after asking for hall passes. But they were both doing fine in Spanish, so they didn’t care.
Will had hardly registered that it was the end of the day yet. Students were congregated outside the school, and a circle was forming near the parking lot. Will felt his stomach lurch when he saw who was in the middle of it.
El and Angela were having some sort of stand off. It looked like she had tripped El, and broke her diorama. Fuck. Will dropped what he was doing and ran towards the front entrance, quickly followed by Argyle.
“What's going on?” Vickie asked, approaching them from the end of the hall. She had been planning on meeting up with them after school so they could get high and paint.
“It's Jane,” Argyle explained. “Angela's being a shit again.” Vickie grimaced.
Just as Will burst through the door, El shouted Angela's name and struck out her hand. Will tensed up, waiting for an impact that never came, because El didn't have her powers anymore.
Will couldn’t watch.
The crowd was silent, before a sickening laughter started to erupt in the crowd. Angela stomped on El's diorama before laughing at her, too. She said something snide that Will couldn't hear.
He ran towards them, while Vickie and Argyle hung back, trying to get the crowd to calm down, to little success. No one listened to the stoners.
“What is going on here? Jane, are you okay?” El's math teacher asked.
“I tripped,” El lied. The teacher looked between El and Angela. She sighed.
“Angela, come with me,” The teacher said.
“What? But why? I didn't do anything wrong! You heard her! We were just talking! Jane, say something!” Angela's annoying voice complained as the teacher led her away. She glared daggers at El. El just stared down at her broken diorama. Her eyes were glossy.
“El, what happened?” Will asked, finally reaching her. He kneeled down beside her. El didn't say anything as she limply tried to pick up pieces of her broken diorama. Will moved to grab the tiny Hopper figurine. El gave him a dirty look.
“I'm fine.”
“We'll fix it together, I promise,” Will tried to reassure her.
“I said I'm fine,” El said, raising her voice. She picked up the rest of the pieces and quickly scuttled away. Will watched her go, feeling useless. Vickie and Argyle appeared at his side.
“Is she okay?” Vickie asked.
“I…don't know,” Will sighed.
“Dang, what a drag,” Argyle said. Will nodded. “I'm still giving her a ride home, right?”
"So, there's no way for them to get only one point?" Mike asked as he, Dustin, Erica, and Steve tried to creep past the students in the bleachers who were much more excited about the game than they were.
"Well, you can during the free throws," Steve tried explaining yet again. "But field goals are worth two, and if they're behind the three-point line then…well, they're three."
"When do they do free throws?" Dustin asked.
"After someone gets a foul."
"…What's a foul?"
Steve rolled his eyes and instructed the kids to sit. He head-counted again on instinct, satisfied when he had the same three in tow that he started with.
Mike shifted uncomfortably in his seat. People were yelling already and the teams hadn't even emerged. He was shoulder to shoulder with Dustin and Erica, both seemingly perfectly fine with the chaos that surrounded them.
On the other side of the gym, Nancy entered with Jonathan and her co-writer Fred in tow, prepared to report on the game and try to make it seem even remotely exciting.
"What are you thinking, Jonathan?" Nancy asked, making her first effort in a minute to include him in the conversation. "Win or lose?"
Jonathan shrugged, looking around at his loud, bright surroundings and feeling entirely out of place. "I dunno, is the team any good this year? They've gotta be if they made it this far."
"See, I think that's the right attitude to have," Nancy said softly. "Fred and I have a bet. If the Tigers win, I get to do my story about patient conditions at the State Sanatorium next week."
Jonathan nodded. "That's cool. And if they lose?"
"Correlations in car models used in film sorted by genre," Fred chimed in. "Only because Nancy wouldn't go for my other prize idea."
Nancy scoffed. "I'm not gonna prostitute my friend out like that!"
"Ew, don't make it weird!" Fred retorted. "I was just wondering if you'd introduce us, y'know, like normal people-"
"If it's that normal, you can man up and talk to her yourself!" Nancy pointed across the room. "Look, she's right over there. "
"Who?" Jonathan asked.
"Robin," Nancy clarified. "Did you know that she plays the trumpet?"
Jonathan followed where Nancy was pointing, and sure enough, the girl he'd slung bombs with the year before was a full band geek, playing her trumpet for dear life.
"…Cool."
He was starting to settle into panic. There was too much noise and not enough of literally anything solid for Jonathan to focus his brain on.
"Nancy, it's-" Jonathan's head whipped around at every slight instance of air against his face. "It's really loud, I just- I don't think I- I can stay very long."
"That's okay!" Nancy called back, still having to raise her voice over the crowd. "Just don't be gone too long, alright?"
Jonathan nodded, stifling the response that he wanted to give, which was that he wasn't going to want to come back in at all.
He didn't get the chance to say so, because the teams were making their way out onto the court to thunderous applause.
Lucas scoured the crowd, finding his friends and sister and giving them a big wave, only for the smile to fall just a little bit when he realized Max wasn't with them. He knew it was a rare chance for her to actually show up, but Lucas was never one to give up on what little hope he found himself capable of having. He took his seat on the bench and watched the upperclassmen take to the court, all of a sudden very aware that a large number of his friends were there to potentially watch him sit on the bench for the whole game.
The first quarter was rather uneventful, with Jason landing most of the goals simply due to the fact that he was a ball hog, but the team tried to be enthusiastic about their chances as collaborators anyway.
"That was a good shot," Lucas said to Patrick as he sat down to take a swig of his water. "Sorry about that rebound."
Patrick shrugged, shaking his head. "No skin off my back. Maybe if I get another one you'll actually get swapped in for once."
"Nah, man," Lucas said. "It hasn't happened all season, it's definitely not gonna be tonight."
Lucas looked across the gym at where Nancy and Fred were standing and taking notes. Nancy gave him a thumbs up. Lucas returned the favor. He could've sworn Jonathan was behind her when the game started. When he turned to look at his friends for the first time, he saw that Mike had disappeared from the group as well.
Oh, well. It's not like either of them were missing much anyways.
The hallways, with their dim light against the night sky pouring through the windows, made Hawkins High School even more uncanny than it had felt to Jonathan before, as an outsider in a place he'd once spent so much time. The walls were the same, but the bulletin board boasted new information, the posters on the wall had changed, and he was discovering new things like what he remembered as Mrs. Ramirez' room now being Mr. Stockton's and the trophy case rearranged with its new accolades.
The atmosphere was almost as choking as the gym, but Jonathan couldn't bring himself to try going back in there, not with how many eyes he felt were upon him at any given moment. The events of that day played through his head like a busted VHS, skipping around to the darkest, most upsetting parts.
He'd seen Chrissy in the gym, cheering like nothing was the matter. She was focused on the game and Jason, completely unaware of what Jonathan suspected was really going on.
It was foolish, really. To think that anything could be the matter, that she was having anything more than just nightmares. This town had had enough bad in the past three years to make up a lifetime of nightmares for any one resident. But still, the fear, the what if that told Jonathan he needed to protect those less aware of the danger that lurked right underneath Hawkins' nose was enough to make him paranoid, turning at each and every noise, every thought, every instance that might imply something was out of the ordinary.
Squeak!
Jonathan swallowed air, pausing as he heard shuffling footsteps not far behind him. Luckily, his mind slowed just as soon as it had begun racing when he realized just who his pursuer was.
"Sorry," Jonathan huffed. "Didn't realize I had a shadow."
Mike stood in the hallway, arms wrapped around himself. It occurred to Jonathan just how much the kid had grown in only a few short months.
"It's okay. You, um, you left and I thought it was a good chance to step out," Mike explained himself. "I was kind of suffocating in there."
"Yeah, me too," Jonathan agreed. "The first and probably last basketball game I'll ever go to."
"I get why some people find it fun. You know, people who don't start breathing weird when there's too many other people in the same room, or there's too much light." Mike said.
Jonathan gestured to Mike with his hands still stuck deep in his jacket pockets. "That what happens to you?"
Mike nodded.
Jonathan blinked up at the overhead lighting and frowned. "I was gonna go sit outside for a little bit. Escape."
He motioned as if to invite Mike along, and the two made their great escape down the hallways of Hawkins High until they hit the parking lot. The cracked pavement was packed with cars, Nancy's somewhere in the mix, but neither of the teenagers were particularly interested in finding it. Instead, they took up a bench next to a fancy new vending machine the school had installed with the money that was meant for the theater department's new costumes.
It was quiet. Jonathan was sure he didn't have to worry about paranoia here. Good. He didn't want to worry Mike. He'd seen it all too, the last thing he needed was to be on the same mental ledge Jonathan had been perched upon since his conversation with the cheerleader in the woods, convincing him that he was about to dive into the deep end of the misfortune that was almost to be expected in his life at this point.
The air was thick with tension and sweat as the game persisted, the teams both catching their breath before returning to the court after an impromptu time out had been called. The older boys left Lucas on his spot on the bench as they grouped up for the next play.
Lucas turned back. He waved to Dustin, Erica, and Steve. Dustin and Erica waved back. Steve gave him a big thumbs up.
When the game started back up again, Lucas watched the other team's offense skirt around the middle of the court and get mixed up in the Tigers. He cocked his head, curious about which specific play was happening here, as he'd read the entire playbook back to front and honestly couldn't parse what they were doing. The green blended with the red in an all out brawl for the ball, in a display so chaotic that it had Lucas, his fellow bench warmers, and even their coach standing and straining their necks in an attempt to see.
The shuffling of legs and hands couldn't have shielded from what Lucas saw. As the crowd focused on Jason and the rival team's captain shuffling for the ball, Lucas was focused on the outward events unfolding as Chance tripped over another guy's foot, sending him into the group stumbling for the ball like dominoes. Shouts rang out as in the scuffling of the players the ball went skyward and directly into Patrick's hand.
Lucas wished he could say he watched with the rest as his friend took off, making a beeline for the basket. Instead, he watched the group recovering from the collision, specifically as one of the figures in red and white stood and "tripped" yet again, using the guise of regaining his stability to stomp, with a firm, flat foot, directly onto Chance's ankle.
Patrick didn't even try to make the shot once he heard the deafening cry that rang out.
The crowd was unsure how to react, or even what was going on, at least until Coach Hurder joined the small circle that had formed on the court floor.
Fred quickly jotted down notes while Nancy simply stood there. "Oh my God, d'you think he's-"
She turned, but Jonathan was still gone.
The crowd offered applause of support as a muttering, cursing Chance was carried off of the court. The trio there for Lucas saw the team chattering, regrouping, and then finally saw Jason turn his attention to Lucas.
"Sinclair!"
Lucas snapped out of his stare. Jason was now in front of him.
"You're up."
After a moment of confusion, Lucas rose to his feet. He heard cheers behind him, turning to see Dustin, Erica, and Steve smiling wide in their support. No Mike, still. Oh, well. Steve was hollering loud enough for half an arena's worth, anyway.
As Lucas found his opening position, he caught Patrick's attention and lowered his voice. "Dude, I saw all of that. They totally hurt him on purpose."
"Well, be on the lookout," Patrick replied, scanning the room. "And if they play dirty again, we'll throw it right back at 'em."
Lucas closed his eyes and steadied his breath, avoiding the urge to glance over at his sister and friends on the bleachers. His first time off the bench all season, and it was the state championship against a dirty team.
What better luck could there have been?
A whistle rang out.
Play ball.
Joyce had just finished making dinner when the door flung open. It reverberated against the wall. Joyce nearly jumped out of her skin. Joyce dropped what she was doing to check in. She watched as El ran through the living room to get to the staircase.
“El!” Joyce called, before hearing her bedroom door slam shut. Will walked in sheepishly after her. Joyce threw down her oven mitts. “Will, what's going on?”
Will walked into the kitchen, checking over his shoulder just in case. “Angela broke El's diorama. She was being…” Will stopped himself from using a bad word. “Meaner than usual today. She said some stuff about Hopper, I think.”
Joyce nodded, taking it in. “Well, did you stand up for her?” Will's shoulders slumped. “William.”
“Look, if I did that El would be pissed at him. Besides, Angela scares me,” Will said.
“Well which is it? Are you scared of El or Angela?” Joyce asked, crossing her arms.
“El, to be honest.”
“Will, she's going through something neither of us can understand fully. We need to try to support her. This whole life, high school, bullies, is all fresh for her. You've dealt with those shitheads your whole life. I'm not saying it's your responsibility to take care of her, but if you see something, you should say something,” Joyce said, gently. Will sighed.
“I want to, but she, like, hates me or something,” Will said, rolling his head back.
“She doesn't hate you. She's just grieving. I know it's hard. Grief is hard! Do you want me to talk to her?” Joyce asked. Will shook his head.
“I just want to see if I can cheer her up tomorrow at Rink-O-Mania,” Will said, scratching the back of his neck. “I think she'll start feeling better when Dustin gets here.”
Joyce looked like she wanted to say something but held back. “Okay, but when she starts feeling bad again…”
“...We'll talk to her,” Will finished. Joyce smiled.
“Exactly.”
Joyce reached over and played with a lock of Will’s hair. “You need a haircut, you know.”
Will shook his head. “I like it this long.”
“You look like the cover of a Fleetwood Mac album.”
“Thank you.”
In El's room, she had already changed into her pajamas and had crawled under her blankets. She wanted the day to be over. Maybe she could end it prematurely. She pulled Hopper’s letter out from under her pillow.
She had every word memorized. If she had to, she could probably recite it verbatim. But that didn’t stop her from reading it. If she let her mind slip away it was like he was talking to her. Though it was starting to get hard to remember what his voice sounded like. How did that happen so quickly?
But lately, I guess I've been feeling distant from you. Like you're pulling away from me or something.
El stopped reading. She slipped the letter back under her pillow and covered her head with her blankets. She choked back a sob.
From outside in the parking lot, laughter reverberated down the rain-stained pavement.
"I'm serious," Jonathan snickered, brandishing the beat up reader's script he'd clutched tight to his chest all day. "His only job is to look suspicious."
"But then it can't be him," Mike insisted. "It's too obvious!"
"Correct."
Mike sat up. "Then who is it?!"
"I can't tell you that!" Jonathan replied in exasperation. "There's, like, an actual code of secrecy. You're not supposed to talk about who the murderer is."
"That's ridiculous, lemme-" Mike grabbed for the script, but Jonathan held it out of his reach. "Can I please look and see?"
"Nah, this- this is full of notes and junk, it's barely legible." Jonathan said.
"Okay, fine. So, is this what you and your enclave of hippie friends up in California are doing?" Mike asked.
"What friends? I think Will's the only one who has those." Jonathan joked.
Mike's eyebrows raised. "Really? Not El?"
"El's still adjusting. She's friendly, though, so she'll find her people. Probably." Jonathan supposed, taking a sip of his drink.
"And you're not?"
"What?"
"Friendly."
Jonathan laughed. "No way. I think I scare people, actually. It's fine. I've never been the type of guy who needed friends."
"Yeah, me neither." Mike said.
Jonathan paused, confused. "C'mon, man, you've still got some folks left in that band of weirdos, right?"
"Yeah, but…" Mike trailed, struggling to find his words. "Lucas has all these friends on the team, and Max doesn't really talk to any of us anymore, and Dustin gets along with Robin and all her band geeks. And I…have Hellfire. And to be honest, I don't think those guys actually like me very much."
"And why is that?" Jonathan inquired.
"Because they don't talk to me unless we're planning games at lunch or playing said games," Mike explained. "Like, I have Creative Writing fifth period with Gareth, every day, and he's never talked to me in there. And after meets they always shrug off me and Dustin to go get stoned in the cemetery and stuff."
"Pfft. Hey, there are worse places to get stoned." Jonathan offered.
"And how would you know? Hm?" Mike asked in a funny voice.
"I wouldn't, necessarily," Jonathan said, less than innocent. "My brother would know a lot more about that than me."
Mike's jaw dropped. "Will?"
"Yeah, I know, right?" Jonathan exclaimed. "He and his friends will just, like, pile up in this shitty pizza van and go on these random 'night drives'. And every time they come back I'm shocked Mom doesn't figure it out."
Mike's shoulders slumped. He knew they would all have new things to experience in California, but he suddenly felt very sad that Will and El seemed to be changing so much and he wasn't there for any of it. He missed his friends. And he wondered if he missed the way everything had been the summer before, before everything went down at the mall. He'd been dating El, which Mike was certain he didn't want to do again. But at least they were all together as friends.
"So, uh, your mom has kind of loosened the reins a little bit, huh?" Mike eventually asked.
"Oh, God no," Jonathan said. "Will has to call once an hour to check-in. I had to talk her down from making it thirty minutes."
Jonathan lowered his voice and mumbled under his breath, but Mike still heard what he said next.
"Wonder if she even realizes I left this morning."
“Does it ever get easier?” Mike asked. “Being invisible?”
Jonathan shrugged. “Not sure yet.”
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Go away, Will."
"Not Will."
El sat up, her hand instinctively shoving the letter under her pillow. She wiped away her tears and croaked for Joyce to come in.
Gently, the door opened, and Joyce sat on the edge of El's bed. "I take it today didn't go so good?"
El shook her head.
"Do you wanna talk about it?"
El shook her head.
Joyce nodded. "That's okay. Do you want me to go?"
El shook her head.
"Okay," Joyce looked around, eyeing the smashed diorama on the desk. "You know, it really is very accurate. He would've loved it."
"You think so?" El murmured.
"Of course," Joyce insisted. "He was proud of everything you did."
"Whether it was good or not?" El asked.
"No, no, no," Joyce said. "Not that at all. I think he- he would've loved this, though. It's perfect, you put a lot of work into it."
"Do you like it?"
Joyce laughed. "Yes, yes, I like it."
There was a small bout of silence, and then El's shoulders slumped.
"I don't know why those kids are so mean to me." El wondered.
Joyce scoffed. "Because they find it easier to pick on you for the things they don't like about themselves."
"Really?"
"Usually," Joyce shrugged. "But even if it's not, even if they're just being bitches, it doesn't matter. You gotta stick to what makes you you no matter what."
"Okay." El said with a laugh.
"Attagirl," Joyce smiled. "Hey, how's about we go to the fabric store sometime? Something to match those designs you've been drawing. I'll teach you how to use the old sewing machine."
El's eyes lit up. "Really?"
"Really really."
"Okay, El nodded. "But we will wait until next week. I want to focus on making Will have a great birthday first."
"Of course."
Lucas wasn’t going to let this chance go to waste. He stood on the basketball court, ready. The weeks he had spent practicing with Patrick after school were finally going to be put to the test.
Lucas covered Jason who had the ball, making sure to stand defensively against the blood thirsty meatheads. He knew they wouldn’t hesitate to stage an incident with him as well if it meant winning their game. Jason moved with the ball halfway across the gym, getting ready to shoot.
There were ten seconds on the clock.
Jason shot. The crowd went silent. It missed. The crowd let out a collective sigh.
But Lucas was ready, standing at exactly the right spot to catch the ball. He didn’t panic, or start overthinking. Instead, he took a deep breath. Five seconds left. It felt like sharks were swarming him. It wasn’t lost on him that he was one of the smallest guys on the court.
Lucas stood under the basket, and with all his strength he jumped. He threw the ball.
For a terrifying second, he thought the ball would ricochet off the basket, but it didn’t. It went in.
He just won them the championship game.
The crowd went ballistic as the buzzer rang. Lucas felt elated as the boys on his team started hooting and hollering. They swarmed him like he was king of the world. Chance and Andy lifted him up onto their shoulders and carried him around like a trophy. Lucas grinned and laughed with them while his teammates cheered. He smirked when he saw the opposing team looking glum. Served them right for playing dirty.
Lucas’ eyes hovered over the stands. Steve was jumping up and down and screaming his lungs out. He had grabbed Dustin and was shaking him while pointing to Lucas. Dustin was grinning, too, raising his hands to clap in Lucas’ direction. Lucas even caught sight of Erica cheering, though as soon as they made eye contact she stopped. Nancy had put down her notebook to clap. She waved at him when his teammates paraded him closer to the doors. Robin waved at him, too, from the other side of the gym, while trying to not drop her recorder. The cheerleaders were already in formation to do their winning routine. All for him. He couldn’t believe it.
Outside the gym, completely unaware, Jonathan and Mike were tossing pebbles across the parking lot, getting lost in the bliss of the night. States away, Joyce had pulled El into her arms and had suggested that the two of them share a sweet treat before bed. Across the street at the park, Will, Argyle and Vickie were sharing a point and toasting to Will's birthday. In the Hawkins Trailer park, Max turned off her radio after hearing the news of the game, and took another Advil.
The parking lot became flush with noise and movement as the basketball game let out, catching Jonathan and Mike off guard. The team was rallied around Lucas, cheering and talking and essentially commanding all of his attention.
"That ruled, guys!" Jason cheered, trying to hide his meager jealousy about not getting the final shot. "Benny's, tonight. It's about to be the celebration of the season, Tigers!"
A rousing chorus of hoops and hollers rang out. Lucas started to walk with the group to their gaggle of cars, but hung back and watched the crowd as it dispersed.
"She never show?"
Lucas turned, seeing Patrick standing before him.
"Uh, no, no, she didn't."
"That's too bad, bro. She doesn't know what she's missing." Patrick gave Lucas a pat on the back.
"Thanks," Lucas replied. "I'll be there in a sec, I just need to talk to my sister."
"Sure thing, man."
As Patrick caught up with the rest of the team, Lucas turned and waited until he saw Erica, Steve, and Nancy burst from the crowd of game attendees and made for Lucas.
"Nice shot, Lucas!" Nancy complimented. "Didn't think you'd be making front page of the Streak, but here we are."
"Killed that shit, man," Steve said, giving Lucas a quick hug.
Erica shrugged. "It was alright, I guess."
"Thanks, fart face." Lucas said.
"Dustin said congrats, too, but he had to split," Steve added. "Romeo's got an early flight."
Right. Dustin had to get up at the ass crack of dawn and still came to the game. Lucas looked around. "Where's Mike?"
"I'm wondering the same thing," Nancy said, tossing and catching her car keys. "I guess I better go find out. Congrats again."
The remaining three rang out in a scattered chorus of good-nights to Nancy.
"I gotta go," Lucas explained. "The guys are waiting up for me, so…"
Erica scoffed. "So you want me to bike home alone in the dark?"
"I didn't say that," Lucas insisted. "I just…didn't think about it."
Steve shook his head. "I can give you a ride. Sorry, though, I don't have a rear-facing car seat."
Erica folded her arms. "I find your humor juvenile and exhausting."
"…Okay, fine, whatever."
The two split off as Lucas headed for his teammates' cars, Steve murmuring about offering his help and what he gets in return.
Nancy's search led her to the far end of the building where there were few lights, fewer cars, and even fewer people. Sure enough, she spotted Jonathan and Mike just as they were standing up to rejoin society.
"Hey, Nancy," Mike called. "Is the game over already? We just-"
"Ditched?" Nancy interrupted. "You've been gone for hours."
Jonathan looked down. "Sorry, we lost track of time, I guess-"
"Lucas made the winning shot," Nancy said to Mike. "And the first thing he asked when we met up afterwards was where you were."
"Oh, shit," Mike whispered. He started to walk past his sister. "Is he still-?"
"He's already gone," Nancy called. She turned her attention to Jonathan. "And I suppose you have a good reason for ditching, too?"
"Nance, it was crazy loud in there," Jonathan tried to explain. "People have already been giving me shit all day, and I was overwhelmed. You know I don't do well in places like that."
"You think I like it in there either?" Nancy asked. "Full of sweat and testosterone? I really would've liked to have had you to lean back on, but I kept looking behind me and you never came back."
"I was panicking, you want me to go somewhere that makes me panic?" Jonathan persisted.
"I just want you to tell me where you are, Jonathan!" Nancy exclaimed.
The air whipped around them, angry and persistent.
"We get each other for five days, and this is something I really wanted us to do together, go to the game, have fun, and you can't even stick it out long enough for that. It's like you don't even want to be around me."
Jonathan stuttered. "I- I didn't know what was what you wanted to-"
"Yeah, you never do," Nancy pressed. "That really seems to be the problem these days, Jonathan."
Mike placed his hands over his ears. The yelling was starting to sound a little too familiar for his liking. He felt the familiar pang of a headache creeping up behind his right eye.
"What does?" Jonathan asked.
Nancy's feet shuffled as tears began to well in her eyes.
"That you don't know anything about me anymore."
"I don't know anything about-" Jonathan rolled his eyes. "I know a lot, Nancy, but I can't read your mind."
"I told you not to be gone the whole game-" Nancy tried again.
"And I wasn't comfortable going back in," Jonathan repeated. "If you knew me, you'd know that I can't handle that kind of environment."
Nancy scoffed. "Don't turn this back around on me!"
Jonathan gave pause. His fingers caressed the fluttering paper held behind his back. "…What script am I studying?"
"What?" Nancy asked.
"No, I mean it," Jonathan continued. "My screenplay project, the one I've been doing all year, what script is it adapted from?"
"How am I supposed to-"
Jonathan wordlessly presented the beaten up Mousetrap script. "Seven months, now, that I've had this thing on me."
Looking at the script, Nancy frowned as her eyes averted Jonathan's now.
"So maybe it's not that I don't know anything about you," Jonathan continued, his break shuddering. "Maybe it's just that we don't know anything about each other anymore."
Mike was still against the wall, hands plastered over his head to avoid having to listen to any of this. He'd walk away if Nancy wasn't his ride. He turned to the school to see the last of the cheerleaders leaving the gym, the rest of them heading towards the cars while one stayed behind and lingered in front of the school doors.
Jonathan saw this, too, and stuck a hand in his pocket.
"I have to go," Jonathan murmured. "I promised someone I'd help them."
"Excuse me?!" Nancy cried. "Are you seriously walking away from me right now?"
Continuing his pursuit, Jonathan brushed past the siblings and started to head for the gym doors. "Yeah, I am. This is important. Trust me."
"How can I trust you when you're walking away from this to go talk to…" Nancy watched as she realized just who was standing in front of the gym. "Chrissy Cunningham? What could you possibly need to help her with?"
Jonathan paused, turning to address Nancy directly. "I will tell you as soon as I know. But I need you to trust me that this is much bigger than whatever fight we're having right now."
"How am I supposed to trust that?" Nancy asked.
Jonathan kept walking.
Stomping her foot on the pavement, Nancy stewed as the first tear broke free. "If you walk away from me right now…we are over, Jonathan. We're through!"
"Can I be completely honest, Nancy?" Jonathan asked. "I think we have been for a while!"
Nancy's arms fell limply to her sides as Jonathan continued to storm away from her, as he breath started to shudder and her chest heaved.
"Nancy?"
Mike gently approached his sister. He placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Nancy, are you okay?"
Wracked with sobs, Nancy accepted a rare hug from Mike, who watched Jonathan go with a mix of concern, anxiety, and disdain as Nancy cried into his shoulder. The basket case in him that stayed outside and had connected with Jonathan just moments before battled with the part of him that was Nancy's brother, determined to see brought to justice anyone who made her upset.
Meanwhile, Jonathan had to fight blubbering tears as he approached Chrissy. She was waiting, leaned up against the brick wall, and caught sight of him as he wiped a tear from his face.
"Hey," she breathed. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah," Jonathan muttered. He turned, but Nancy and Mike were already walking back to the car. "Um, uh…Nancy just broke up with me.”
In the car, Mike slid into the passenger seat and rubbed his eye as the headache rang through his head. “Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”
“I’ll be fine.” Nancy sniped. “Let’s just go home.”
“Are you doing okay?” Chrissy asked as she and Jonathan trekked through the woods towards Weathertop. “I’m really sorry about what happened with you and Nancy. You two seemed really sweet together. All things considered, it’s really kind of you to still help me.”
Jonathan took a deep breath. “Yeah, of course.” He would rather just focus on Chrissy than think about his heartbreak. He didn’t want to feel that until he was on a plane out of there and crying into his mom’s arms.
“Breaking up with your partner can be so hard. Jason and I have broken up, gosh, countless times,” Chrissy said. Jonathan said nothing, but gave her a look that said she could keep going if she wanted. He’d rather focus on her than himself. “It’s just, you know, high school stuff, I guess. Jason is my first boyfriend, and only boyfriend, really. I guess he was just the safest option, you know? My mom really liked him. She doesn’t like lots of the stuff I do, so dating Jason felt like I got a gold star or something. And…now I’ve made it all about myself. I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s fine. I like listening,” Jonathan said, with a patient smile. Chrissy smiled sheepishly at him.
“Was Nancy your first girlfriend?” Chrissy asked. Jonathan nodded. “What was that like for you? If you don’t mind me asking. Gosh, you don’t have to. I don’t know why I asked.”
“It was nice,” Jonathan said. “Nancy is the smartest person I know. She sees the world totally different from me, which is cool. Interesting. She was one of the first people who never wanted me to change who I was. I could just, I don’t know, breathe around her? I guess she’s my best friend. Or was.”
“Wow,” Chrissy said, stopping in her tracks.
“What?”
“That’s so romantic,” Chrissy said. “That sounds really nice. I’m sorry you broke up.”
“Does Jason not make you feel like that?” Jonathan asked. “Sorry, that was rude.”
“No! No, it’s fine,” Chrissy said. “But no. It’s weird. He loves cheery Chrissy, peppy Chrissy. If he knew I was going to the guidance counselor for anxiety attacks, I don’t know how he’d respond. But, probably not good.”
“Well, fuck that,” Jonathan said. Chrissy smiled.
“Yeah…fuck that,” She repeated, and then giggled like she had never cursed before. Jonathan smiled. “Are you wearing a Smiths shirt?”
“Yeah, you know them?”
“I love the Smiths!” Chrissy admitted, with a hop in her step.
“Really?” Jonathan asked, grinning.
“Yes! That’s so cool!” Chrissy said.
“Chrissy Cunningham, full of surprises,” Jonathan said. Chrissy smiled and curtsied. He would have never seen that coming. So few people liked the same bands as he did. He was used to being the only person with his specific interests. He had the urge to ask her what her favourite song by them was, or her favourite album, but he kept moving. Jonathan had never been good at making friends.
“I’m sorry we never hung out when you lived here. I think we would have been friends,” Chrissy said.
“It’s fine. Not your fault. I don’t think I would have approached you either,” Jonathan said. “I don’t make a habit of talking to popular people.”
“What? You didn’t think we can be nice?” Chrissy teased. Jonathan shrugged, with an embarrassed nod of his head. “Where are you staying, by the way? If you’re not going to be at Nancy’s?”
“Dunno. I’ll probably crash at the Sinclair’s house for the night and then try to get a flight back home tomorrow,” Jonathan said. “There’s no reason to stay here, now.”
“Well,” Chrissy said, drawing out the word. “If you decide to stay, we should hang out! I don’t have any big plans for Spring Break. I could use a friend.”
Jonathan paused. “I’ll keep that in mind. I could probably use a friend, too.”
They reached Cerebro on Weathertop. Jonathan moved to uncover the radio. His plan was to contact one of his family members and explain Chrissy’s situation. Any of them were more equipped to handle the situation than he was. His mom’s intuition was unmatched, and Will and El’s connection to the Upside Down might give them some insight on how to help Chrissy. Jonathan flipped out the radio, grabbing the speaker.
“Mom, Will, this is Jonathan, do you copy?” Jonathan asked softly into the speaker. “El, do you copy?”
Static. He looked back at Chrissy and shrugged. She smiled.
“Mom, do you copy? This is Jonathan, over,” Jonathan repeated.
“Hey sweetie, this is mom, over,” Joyce’s voice repeated over the radio. Jonathan grinned.
“Hey mom, I want you to keep a new friend of mine. This is Chrissy. She needs our help. Is El or Will home? Over.”
“They’re both getting ready for bed, but let me check on them. What’s going on? Over,” Joyce said. “Hi, Chrissy!”
Jonathan started to slowly explain what was going on, getting to the point where Chrissy mentioned the monster in her nightmares before he noticed that she hadn’t said anything in awhile. When Jonathan turned to look at Chrissy, he felt his heart stop for a second. Chrissy stood frozen in place, her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Her whole posture looked unnatural. She was muttering to herself incomprehensibly.
“Chrissy?” Jonathan asked. She didn’t respond. “Chrissy!”
“Jonathan, are you still there?” Joyce asked over the radio.
“Give me a second, mom,” Jonathan said, putting down the speaker. He went to stand in front of Chrissy, waving a hand in front of her face. “Chrissy?” He asked again. No change. He gently grabbed her arm. Nothing. He tugged on her. “Chrissy! Chrissy, wake up!”
“Jonathan, what’s going on?” Joyce’s voice crackled over the radio.
“Chrissy! Come on, Chrissy, talk to me!” Jonathan said, panic rising in his chest. He put both hands on her shoulders and shook her. “Chrissy!”
“Jonathan?” Joyce called again.
Jonathan let go of Chrissy and stumbled back towards Cerebro. “Something’s wrong, mom, I don’t know what’s going on. She-she’s frozen. I need you to wake up El right now. Over.”
All of a sudden, Chrissy started to float. Jonathan threw down Cerebro, forgetting to turn his speaker off, and ran towards her. He tried to grab her hands before she was floating too high for him to reach.
“Chrissy!” Jonathan shouted. He jumped, trying to grab at one of her feet, but she was too high up. She floated over top of the hill, high over Hawkins now. Jonathan screamed, trying to jump again. What the fuck was happening? What the fuck was happening?
“Chrissy!” He screamed again. It was futile and he knew it, but he didn’t know what else to do. He repeated her name over and over again. God, he felt so useless. He tried jumping again but it wasn’t working. He couldn’t reach her.
Then it happened. He heard a sickening Pop!. Her arm snapped. Then a leg. Then her other two limbs. Her jaw came off its hinges, falling limply before her eyeballs got sucked inside her skull. It was like someone had pulled them from within her head.
Jonathan let out an agonized scream. How the fuck did this happen? He fell backwards as he watched, helplessly. She was dead. Her body smacked down on the edge of Weathertop before it began to tumble down the hill. Jonathan scrambled to the edge and watched it anguish as it got further and further away. She faded into the darkness.
“Chrissy!” He screamed again. Tears streamed down his face. He was supposed to have saved her. He promised her. “No, no, no, no, no!”
He told her he could help. He assured her it was going to be okay. They were supposed to hang out for Spring Break. They were going to be friends.
God, if he had just been smarter. If he had made a better plan. If he had had Joyce’s intuition, or El’s powers, or Will’s sensitivity he might have been able to do something. But he had none of those things. He was the least special member of his family, and now a girl was dead because of him.
Suddenly, he couldn’t be there anymore. He felt culpable, somehow, like it was his own failure that had killed her. Instead, Jonathan got to his feet and ran down the opposite side of the hill towards the woods. He didn’t know where he was going, and he didn’t care.