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joyce didn't deny her that it was loud; it was all a bit much, she knew. the sounds, sights, and smells could be overwhelming to even the locals, so she couldn't imagine how strange it was for someone like el, who wasn't used to the annual event. not only was she not used to that, but she wasn't used to being around so many people in general. she could sympathize with her there, but not by much. all she could really do was listen and, if she could, be an encouraging figure in her life. of course, that all went out the window when el asked her that question. would people think she was strange? well, probably. she was a new girl whose first year at hawkins high would be the twelfth grade. it was always strange when someone started school in the very last year. there would be less chance to get to know her over the years, and more chance that she likely wouldn't make any lifelong friends past the ones that she already had. but was it up to joyce to be honest, really? did she need to bombard her with the emotions that came with the the unbridled truth? perhaps not. "yes," she answered, however. she didn't want to give her false hope, especially when she couldn't count on hawkins to be charming enough to not call her bluff. she didn't take well to the other parents and, similarly, didn't care too much for the town's kids. she didn't believe for a second that there wasn't going to be some idiot in the high school who would make it their mission to bother el in her day to day classes, studies, and extracurriculars. that was just part of being a teenager - dealing with bullshit from other teenagers. she reached out to place a comforting hand on el's shoulder, giving her her brightest and best mom smile. "there are going to be people who think you're strange regardless of your age, or where you are in life. even if you had the same upbringing as everyone else around here, there would still be people who think you're weird and different and other. your only goal should be to ignore them; you were put on this earth for a reason and, more importantly, you're ten times cooler than any bully. trust me on that."
At first, the honesty made El's throat tighten, but there was something almost relieving about it too. No pretending. No soft lie that things would be easy because even El knew better than that. She had never been given the easy version of things.
She thought about Hawkins High β the crowded hallways she hadn't walked through yet, the locker combination she would have to remember, the fact that she would be a new face in a sea of people who had grown up together. That meant eyes. Questions. Maybe even whispers. And Joyce wasn't wrong. There were always people who looked at her like she was something other.
But Joyce's hand on her shoulder made her shoulders relax a little. "You think I'm cool?" El asked, an eyebrow arching, unable to hide the amusement that tugged at her mouth. It wasn't often she felt that way about herself. Mostly because she felt like she was trying to catch up. Almost like everyone else got a rulebook for how to be normal and hers was lost somewhere in the mail.
"I can try to ignore them." And she meant it. It wasn't like she hadn't had practice in that department. She had been stared at before. Called names. Laughed at. Hawkins High couldn't possibly be any worse than what she had been through.
Then, she gave Joyce's arm a nudge. "I think you're cool too, for what it's worth." Which, probably wasn't much considering Joyce was an adult and this was coming from her child, but El meant it. But they were all starting something new, so maybe if Joyce helped El's ego a little bit, El could return the favor.
there was once a time where el looking at him like she could see right through him would have made him squirm, or given him cause for concern. but years had passed since the first time she had ever done that and, similarly, years had passed since he'd stopped feeling freaked out by it. he simply waited for her to grasp onto whatever it was she wanted to say, often gaining insight from her that not a lot of other people could give him. ...that sounded nice and all, but they were literally discussing whether or not he smelled bad. so. sometimes it wasn't very insightful at the end of the day. thankfully, the conversation moved on. he watched as she moved to look through the dropped off snacks, feeling a slight pull of irritation on the inside that the can of beans was dented. he was definitely his mother's child, much as he was loathe to admit it. wouldn't any teenage boy hate agreeing to a fact like that? "green beans are good sometimes. my grandma puts sugar in them," he said with a shrug. on the opposite end of the spectrum, green bean casserole was the last dish he reached for when it came time for thanksgiving dinner. he gave her a bit of a smile at her thanks, shaking his head to signify that she really didn't need to thank him for anything. "it's not weird," he replied, though maybe it was a tiny bit weird. her whole vibe was weird, but that wasn't a bad thing. if anything, he felt it should be celebrated. "i know you feel like a fish out of water sometimes, but you don't stick out as much as you think you do." there were far stranger people hanging out around hawkins, and he didn't think that most of the other students were going to care about her presence all that much. no more than they cared about his, or the party's in general. as the topic switched to will, he gave his answer some thought before he spoke again. he couldn't say for sure whether or not will would be alright when it came to attending hawkins high, but he'd be surrounded by his friends. and mike, god knew, wouldn't let anything bad happen to him if he could help it. "i think will is going to be fine," he admitted. he couldn't see the future so he obviously didn't know that to be a one hundred percent fact, but he was hoping that it would be. "i think you're both going to be fine. one more year and then we're all free."
El tilted her head, considering him with that same too long stare as if she was trying to decide if she believed him. Her arms stayed folded, posture relaxed in a way that only ever seemed to happen when she was near people who she felt comfortable enough around.
"Your grandma puts sugar in vegetables?" She asked like it was the strangest revelation of the entire day. El was no stranger to eating sugar and consuming, well, mass amounts of it. Growing up, food was a source of sustenance. Any sugar she ingested were natural, already present in whatever she was eating. The world of processed sugars was one that she had come to love β but even she had endured stomach aches from too much of a good thing and had learned what balance was.
She dropped the can back in the box with a dull thud, dusting her hands together like she had just done a full day of work. It wasn't all that often that someone told her she didnβt stick out. Mostly, she just assumed she did. The simple fact that she didn't grow up like everyone else made her visible and there was almost no way of masking it.
"Fish out of water," the echo came out soft. "That's... more than accurate, I think," El's lips quirked upwards, though it wasn't much of a smile. More like an acknowledgment. She didn't always know how to tell him, or anyone for that matter, that she needed to hear those words. Gentle reminders that she could exist in their world.
Her gaze flicked toward the passing students, the swell of voices in the hall beyond the booth before returning her attention to Mike. She wanted to believe in the finish line, in the idea that life would just magically settle once they crossed it. She thought that's what would happen going to a real school, but she had been alive long enough now to know things rarely tied themselves up that neatly. Still, she nodded. "I hope youβre right."
A small pause lingered before she added, almost like she couldnβt help it: "Will trusts you more than anyone. If you think he'll be okay, then... he will be." El leaned forward, elbows back on the table, and let the corner of her mouth pull up again. "But donβt think I'm letting you sugar beans for me. That's where I draw the line. I mean, that's just gross."
πππ: El Hopper and @nancydrewheeler πππππ: the (crime scene???) wheeler house ππππ: the wheeler's front door
The last place El expected to be on a random Tuesday evening was the front door of the Wheeler house. The streets were quiet now in that uncanny way Hawkins always seemed to manage after something terrible happened. Even the trees didnβt creak. Curfew had the whole town like it was frozen in time.
El stood, arms crossed tight against her ribs, hands clutched around a box of brownie mix. Her knock was too soft the first time. She knocked again. It had been days since Karen Wheeler was named as a suspect, maybe a week since El had been interrogated herself.
Shitty. That was the word people used when things that didn't make sense sucked. Shitty was the word people used whenever they didn't check on their friends when their mothers were suspected of murder. She didn't know exactly what she was going to say, but she didn't want anyone to be alone in all that silence. With the news reporters and the police tape, and the way Hawkins suddenly made Karen seem like she was a stranger instead of someone who made pasta salad for barbecues and lemonade when the kids were thirsty.
When the door creaked open, she wasn't all that surprised to see Nancy, but there was still a semblance of shock in her voice as she wavered out, "Nancy?" Her voice was soft. "Hi," she greeted, holding out the box of brownie mix. "I don't know how to bake," she admitted, eyes almost bugged out. She could follow instructions, but after almost blowing up the microwave after forgetting to remove the flavor packet from her ramen, unsupervised cooking did not seem like something to attempt.
"Can I... Can I come in?" El couldn't help solve the investigation. At least, not in the way she could use to her advantage before, but everyone needed someone in their corner. That was something, wasn't it?
"Okay," he repeated with a gentle smile. As much as Will knew he and El were supposed to, like... 'get out there' and socialize or whatever, this was so much more fun. He wasn't a hermit or anything-- Will genuinely liked people. The problem was that people didn't always seem to like him back, and after everything that had happened, all the life-or-death scenarios, he'd decided that it was okay to spend his time with the people who loved him, who were safe.
Will looped the headphones over his ears and waited for El to do the same before he hit play on the tape. The first track started out slow, almost melancholy as the solo guitar plucked dreamily through the airwaves. He tilted his head towards his sister's, letting the ends of her hair tickle his cheek. Nothing else really mattered right now.
"They always do," he hummed. Will half-expected Mike to come bursting through the crowd right then, barreling down on them in a mixture of excitement and panic. Neither of them could go too long without the other, and Will breathed a sign of relief that they weren't hundreds of miles away in California after all.
At El's question, Will's eyes lit up, "You know Pink Floyd? That band Jonathan likes?" He hummed a couple of bars from "Wish You Were Here" for good measure. Will took El's wide-eyed gaze as encouragement and barreled ahead, "So the front man of Pink Floyd, Roger Waters, released this in '84. It's like a long narrative album, all about him basically having a midlife crisis. The last track is my favorite-- 'The Moment of Clarity.' It's him, like, waking up from his dream and realizing he didn't actually want to wish his life away."
For someone relatively quiet and soft-spoken, Will could easily go on for longer than El ever wanted about The Pros And Cons of Hitch Hiking. He could tell her that, when he bought it on vinyl last year, he'd painted over the cover because he didn't want to wake up and see that everyday. "Uh-- sorry," he blushed, thankful for the loud swell of track two to pull him back from telling El all about how Steve O'Rourke wanted Pros to be a Pink Floyd album, not a solo work.
He cleared his throat, tilting his head to the side and looking at his sister. "Do you ever feel like that-- like you need to move somewhere far away and, like, start over?" Will asked, tiptoeing towards something real.
El let the music settle between them like fog on a field, curling into the quiet parts of her chest that still felt a little bruised and private. She let her body lay flat, arms looped around her stomach loosely as she listened, but her gaze stayed on the horizon, not on Will. There was something soft and sharp about the guitar. It reminded her of being in Hopper's cabin alone, humming to herself to fill the silence.
And she nodded when Will asked her about Pink Floyd and listened as he continued on and on about the album and members of the band. She didn't really care, nor did she retain much of the information that Will rambled on about, but she liked seeing Will this way. Passionate about something. Interested in something. And that was enough for her to put on a smile and nod along.
When Will asked that question, her breath caught for a second. Not because it surprised her, but because it felt like he had yanked a thought straight from her head. Like maybe she wasn't quite as alone in those feelings as she thought.
"I used to," El said finally, just loud enough to be heard over the track. "When I first came here. After the lab. After... everything." Her voice stayed calm, almost detached, like she was reading it off a memory card instead of reliving it.
She glanced at him then. "I thought maybe if I moved somewhere new, with new people, I could be someone else. Someone normal. Someone who didnβt flinch when the lights buzzed too loud."
The headphones crackled slightly, like the song agreed with her. El pulled one headphone back slightly, letting the music bleed into the open air. "It's not the place that makes things better," she said. "Itβs the people. You and Joyce. Jonathan. Mike. Max."
She let her head tilt toward Willβs again, more on purpose this time. "I don't know where I'd go if I left," she admitted. "But if I did... I think I'd want someone to come with me. Someone who gets it.β Her eyes found his, clear and earnest as she nudged at him. "You ever dream of somewhere far, far away? Like, Tatooine?"
El was different. Anyone who was close to her knew that. It had nothing to do with where she came from, the darkness she'd endured, or the fact that she once possessed power beyond belief. Max liked that El was honest, supportive, her outlook was one of a kind. It helped that she had pretty eyes too. Max wished the world worked the way El saw it. Happy to hold hands now, she nodded, breathing a little easier to learn her best friend hadn't been hurt, or had her time ruined by anything Max had done. That was new. Typically, she tended to feel at fault for things...everything. "Okay," She continued nodding, faster now, "Good. I just wanted to make sure we were all good, you know." Even more so, Max was relieved to hear the boundary of a serious relationship had been clearly and El was fine with that. There was less pressure and tension with El, than there was with a certain ex boyfriend of hers. Gratefully, she squeezed the other's hand. There was no effort to conceal the smile spreading across her face as El described her feelings. It seeped somewhere deep within Max. Without a doubt, she understood El, even in so few words. Max swung their arms a little, agreeing, "Yeah, I feel normal with you, too. Like, not stressed." She let out a breath, knowing that sentiment weighed a lot more coming from El than it did from her. But still, she hoped it meant something to the other girl. "It a Hawkins thing." Max insisted, digits entwined steady with Eleven's even as she turned to walk backwards. "People here just see things and assume the worst. Whoever started the stereotype about midwesterners being nice were liars. Sure, they'll help you in the grocery store, but they'll talk about you around there $400 grill when you aren't there to defend yourself---" Max paused mid-ranting and raving, reminding herself to return the point, "I don't agree with it, but that's just how they are." Max couldn't help but point out, "It would be totally different if we were in California. Or like, some parts."
El wasnβt sure when it started, the part of her that noticed Max before Max noticed her, but she knew it had nothing to do with boys. Or Hawkins. Or being normal.
She held on, her fingers still curled around Max's like they were meant to fit that way. The back of her knuckles were warm, thumb rubbing slow over Max's, like she was memorizing the shape of it. Not romantic, necessarily. Just something tethering her there. Maybe even something sacred.
"I know what you mean," she said finally, voice low. El was a lot of things β naive, odd, but never stupid or unobservant. "About Hawkins. About people." She didn't care to talk about Hawkins like it was home; it was the people in it that were home. But, she understood what it meant to be stared at. To be turned into something to fear. To entertain. To pity. A weapon or a miracle. Rarely ever just a girl. Something Max always let her be.
She leaned her shoulder into Max's as they walked. Max was right, people would stare no matter what they did. And it wasn't like El needed to prove anything. She just liked that Max didnβt need her to be anything but herself or that she never asked El to explain why her feelings didnβt always line up with the words people used to describe them. Max just got it. Like she always did.
"And if it was different somewhere else," El added, "would we still be just friends?" She didnβt ask it in a way that needed a direct answer. It came out like curiosity more than some kind of deep confession. And if anything, it was nice to dream. Of a place that was more understanding of the way El felt when she was around girls.
She looked sideways at Max, a flicker of a grin curling the corner of her mouth. "Because if California means we could hold hands and no one says anything, maybe we should go," then a brief pause with the faintest hint of El telling a joke, "don't think we'd get very far on that skateboard of yours, though."
It wasn't El's first time at the police station and she had hoped this would be the last. Every time she was in the place, she just wanted to crawl into her own skin. And as she plopped into the chair, her first thought was Hop. These were his coworkers, at some point. His place of employment. As soon as she felt her fingernails dig into the tops of her thighs, she knew she was in for a long afternoon.
"is that what i sound like to you?" mike asked, but it wasn't directed toward el. it wasn't really directed toward anyone, more of a muttering beneath his breath type of deal. he always wondered how others perceived him...and as soon as he got onto that line of thinking, he nipped it in the bud real fast. he didn't want to know what others thought of him. he didn't want to be perceived at all, but he kind of let that feeling fall to the wayside when it came to her. she was a literal pair of fresh eyes to the world, unmarred by any bias that the rest of the town probably had for him. not that he thought he was somebody to the rest of hawkins; he definitely wasn't. when prompted, he scooted over so that she could sit down next to him. there was plenty of room but he didn't mind sharing his space. they'd shared space many times in the past, and he didn't think anything of allowing her to sit by him now. "we're donation collecting," he confirmed, letting her take over as she'd offered, though he didn't leave. he wasn't worried about her messing anything up because there was absolutely nothing to mess up. the information that needed to be written down would all be written down by the people who signed up. they were just there to make sure the cans didn't get squished, or so he liked to tell himself. "it's an easy gig. it's the best booth to run every year because there's nothing to it. that's why all of the slots to man it get taken up so quickly," he explained as if she cared in the slightest. "not that i was all excited to get here, or whatever. i'd rather be anywhere else, but at least now i have some company right?" he said, looking over at el and offering her a small smile. that was more than most people got when it came to him, but she was a special case. he sat back in his chair, positive that she had things covered. she certainly didn't need him there to instruct her on the oh so difficult task of how to hand over a clipboard, and he was about to go back to attempting his nap when he recalled something she'd said. "what do you mean by you think i look like a wet sock? am i sweating that badly?"
Elβs nose crinkled at the question, and for a second, she just looked at him. That blank, borderline too long of a stare that made people nervous if they didnβt know her well, but Mike did. Eventually, her face pulled into a small smile as she folded her arms across the tabletop as if she were settling in for a stakeout.
"Itβs not the sweat," she pointed out. "Itβs more... your posture. And the look on your face," she explained as her eyes flicked over him, forehead creased in mock-concern. The truth was, she didnβt think he looked bad. He just looked Mike β perpetually out of place, a little over it, trying not to care. It was almost comforting, how some things didnβt change. She hoped he never would.
El tapped her fingers against the edge of the donation box as she watched him lean back and seemingly attempt to vanish into his chair. She could almost see the thoughts turning in his head, and for once, she didnβt push to know what they were.
"I get why you signed up," her voice was a little softer when she said it. Not only did it seem pretty easy to El, which meant that probably any shmuck could do it and it just seemed safe. Minimal amount of socialization, there wasn't anyone keeping an eye on whether or not they were doing a good job, and it's not like they were held all that accountable for what people put in the box.
She leaned in slightly to him. "Plus, you get to judge everyoneβs snack choices," she reached into the donation box and held up a dented can of green beans she was sure someone had dropped off earlier and raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "Healthy, but who likes this crap?"
Then, like the thought just occurred to her. "Thanks for not making it weird," she pointed out. "Me being here." She wasnβt just talking about the booth. She was talking about being back in Hawkins High, in public, in her skin. There were moments she still felt like a science project walking around.
And sometimes she still felt like a burden. As soon as she wasn't saving the world anymore, there was always the thought that maybe it was fleeting. Like her friendships were bound to all go away at any moment.
"Do you think Will'll be okay?" El asked, out of her own curiosity. She had no idea what life had for her at school. She had never made friends outside of the party and she had certainly never sat in a desk before, but Will had. And maybe, just maybe, she wanted to reassurance from someone else that Will would be fine.
"Right," Will said, confusion lingering in his tone. He didn't really get how seahorses connected to cafeteria food, but he didn't feel like he had to. Sometimes it was easier to just accept El's conclusions-- not because he didn't care to correct her (or at least not always), but because it had to make her feel weird to constantly be a riddle.
He flashed a smile at his sister, laughing softly. "Okay... it's different," he leaned over and bumped his shoulder against hers, an unspoken promise that he wasn't offended. "Different doesn't mean lame," he reiterated, echoing the sentiment Jonathan passed down to him all those years ago, before Will really even knew what different could entail.
Will's nose wrinkled up in disgust as he shook his head at the image of Hubert's spit flying, "Ew, gross." He wondered for a moment if Mike would, like, kill him for discouraging a potential new member, but Will couldn't stop himself from saying, "Or maybe not. Imagine playing a whole campaign without a spit guard. No thanks." He felt a little mean for what was most definitely punching down, but Will was genuinely grossed out at the thought.
He nodded sympathetically, pushing himself up on forearms to rummage through his backpack. "Me, either. Guess I didn't realize how many people would be here," Will frowned, pushing past assorted school supplies and an old, incredibly worn Dungeons and Dragons manual to no avail.
"Not yet," he admitted in response. Will wasn't sure what her look meant-- maybe El didn't want to see Mike, or something-- but he decided to sidestep it. "She'll come by eventually," Will reassured his sister, pulling his Walkman out of the bag. He grinned, rigging his splitter with a pair of headphones for him and a pair of headphones for El. "Wanna wait for them to find us?" he lifted the headphones in offering.
El hesitated before answering. Her eyes flicked down to the headphones in Willβs hands. Something in the quiet of the moment softened her face. The familiar Walkman clutched between them like it held actual magic in it. And maybe it did. It wasnβt always easy, being out in the world, especially not when she still felt like an unfinished sketch of a person half of the time, but with Will, things always got quieter. A calmer storm. It was odd that he had become one of the biggest constants in her life, despite not meeting him when she escaped from the lab.
"Okay," she answered, and took the headphones from him with both hands like it was bound to break if she wasnβt careful enough. "We can wait."
El didnβt really get music the way Will did. Not like how it meant something so deeply to him and Jonathan like it was basically stitched into their bones. But she liked watching him listen to it. Like Will was somewhere better when he listened to it.
She slid the headphones on to wrap around her ears and leaned back against the grass, letting her head tilt just slightly toward his. When the first track crackled through the static, she let the corners of her mouth lift. Not quite a smile, but close enough.
"Thanks," she said after a minute. Then, almost as an afterthought, "they'll find us eventually." At some point, she was sure their music session would be interrupted by someone. Whether it was Mike or Max or Dustin or - well, the list could go on.
There was a lot she didnβt understand - about people, about herself. But she knew how to recognize when her chest didnβt feel quite so heavy. And sometimes that only happened when Will had an extra pair of headphones. She turned her head and looked at him again, serious. "What are we listening to?" She asked. El wasn't quite as in the know about music other than what Will provided her with or what she would let Max play. In fact, if El had to discover music on her own, she didn't even know where she would start. (90s!El you are going to love discovering The Cranberries)
joyce startled, not expecting to hear el's voice behind her. she didn't mind that she was there, of course, just the contrary in fact. she was so happy to see her out and about in the town, here at the block party, being relatively normal. she was sure that she didn't feel all that normal, but that would hopefully come in time. "you can absolutely have a pencil, honey. you can have anything on this table, actually," she said, though she figured she had already heard her little spiel. if she only wanted a pencil, so be it. she didn't know if she cared too much about having fans, however. she was trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible for her children's sake, but it was nice to know that people were finally looking up to her for a change. she had always wanted to be that kind of suburban mom who had her life put together, and finally, finally that might be coming true for her. "i don't think i can have interns, no," she said with a small sigh, if only for the sophomore's sake. "but i do think i can have unpaid assistants? maybe they will give them credits for helping out in the head office," she said, a small shrug following her statements. "oh, el, perhaps you would like to do that? get some extra credit in while taking a bit of the load off of me." sure, she might have only been saying that in order to offer el a way to stay close to her, and sure, that might have been more for her peace of mind than for el's...but maybe she would still take her up on the offer? she knew will wouldn't dream of helping her in the office, and he had his own extracurriculars to worry about anyway. "if i am a big deal, it's only to the people who matter most to me. you, will, jonathan. you're the only ones i feel like i need to impress," she said, smiling up at el. "how are you enjoying the block party so far? i've seen you walking around a bit, and i'm very proud of how brave you're being by attending!"
El didnβt take the seat behind the booth. Instead, she just stood beside Joyce, close enough that their shoulders nearly touched as she turned the green and gold pencil over in her hands. It was cheap. Plastic that would probably snap if she pressed too hard, but it felt like something. A little token of belonging.
She watched Joyce like she might catch her saying something different with her hands or the corners of her smile. It was still strange sometimes. Being wanted. Not as a weapon or an experiment or a burden, but as someone Joyce actually hoped would stay close. El had never really gotten used to that feeling.
The offer to help in the office made her lift her eyes again. "You want me to be your assistant?" She asked, a little surprised, a little amused. "Do I get a badge?" That was her own try at making a joke.
Maybe it was just Joyceβs way of keeping her nearby. El was naive, but she wasn't stupid. She could tell when someone was worrying behind their smile. But she didnβt mind. She liked knowing someone wanted her in their orbit. And if it meant being close to Joyce, learning a little about how this new life worked. She could totally do paperwork or run errands.
"I think I would like that," she nodded. And this time she didn't agree just out of politeness. "It would be way better than P.E." Her eyes flicked up when Joyce called her brave, and that made her blink a few times. Brave. It wasnβt the first time someone had said that. She had saved her friends lives and the world, what? A handful of times? But it always felt different coming from Joyce. It was real and it was normal.
"Itβs loud," El admitted, glancing toward the crowd. "Too many people. Too many smells." Her nose scrunched a little. "But, it's good. I like seeing everyone. I like watching." That was easier than talking sometimes. She still hadnβt figured out how to start conversations that didnβt involve talking to people that she already knew.
Her hand moved toward one of the lanyards, tracing the plastic strap absently. "We do... think you're a big deal," she finally added. She imagined that Joyce had more of an obligation to Will and Jonathan. They were her sons and El figured there was some kind of maternal nature in that, but when it came to herself? Joyce welcomed El in as her own. It wasn't something she had to do.
"Do you think people will think I'm strange when school starts?" She asked. El was used to being looked at - whether it was when people couldn't tell whether she was a boy or a girl or the lack of words she spoke. Now, she would be the homeschooled freak.
πππ: max mayfield & @m0uthbreather πππππ: whatever street you take from mainstreet to mike's house ππππ: el is the founding force of the hawkins pride parade
Eleven was her best friend. Figures her first girl best friend would be some formerly powered, strange girl from a lab. The world might've been new to El in more ways than most people could understand, but she always got what Max was feeling. Or trying to say. She was pretty sure they called that emotional intelligence, and El certainly made up where she was lacking. She was a one of kind person, the best humanity had to offer amongst all it's bleakness. They had moved through monsters and loss together, spent weekend after weekend in each other's bedrooms, if there was something Max wanted to share, El would be the first to know. Sure the nature of their relationship had changed, but none of those things had. Just because Max was helping El, like, explore and learn more about herself, didn't make them not friends. Max did worry sometimes if she was letting lines between curiosity and pleasure blur. She liked kissing El in those secret late night moments, or cuddling during a movie, or whatever. She'd talked with El over and over about self-discovery and exploration, so surely it'd registered with her. Or at least Max hoped it had. So today, when Eleven grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together and all, in the middle of the block party, Max kind of panicked. While she'd never kissed a girl before El, it wasn't all that hard for her to quietly accept that she liked engaging physically with guys and girls like that. Emotional engagement was another story. Max held it for a while, like it was just some friend thing they did, and made a mental note to bring it up later. It was later. "Hey? El?" Max broke the silence of the darkening street, extending her hand between them. She waited for the other to take it. "I'm sorry about earlier, when...you know." Last thing she ever wanted was to make El feel bad. Max had long worked through issues with her identity, coming to accept who she was with a badge of honor. But she wasn't ignorant, or naive, she knew the world they lived in. "It's just like, there are some assholes out in the world who don't like girls and girls together. Or guys and guys. Especially in Hawkins." Max lamented, "I wish it wasn't like that, but it is. So I guess I just got worried that it wasn't safe." Max's grip on El's hand tightened. Vulnerability and honesty didn't come easily to her, not in the slightest, but Eleven deserved that from her, so she would do her best to give it. Despite her discomfort, she clarified, "We're not like....a couple or anything, right?"
El didnβt let go of Maxβs hand when she finally took it. She looked down at it for a moment, like the shape of their fingers laced together might somehow explain what she was supposed to say. Maybe it was stupid to have done it in public, but was El ever known for thinking? She couldn't recall ever seeing girls hold hands like that. It was always a boy and a girl, and as Max laid it out for her, she began to realize that.
But, just because she realized it didn't mean she understood it.
When El finally spoke, it came out meek - quiet. Almost like if she spoke too loud, somebody would hear them. "You donβt have to be sorry," and she meant it. Max was rarely wrong, in El's experience. The world was full of people who didnβt understand. People who looked at difference like it was something dangerous. El had spent most of her whole life being called strange. Being told to hide. And maybe that was the comfortability in Max - she never made El feel like she had to.
"I wasnβt upset," she added after a beat. "Just... confused, I guess," and that wasn't even just from the looks of people on main or because Max had pulled away. It was because it was still hard sometimes to tell the difference between what she felt or what she was expected to feel. What people called love, or friendship, or something in between. There were so many rules and regulations to something that she didn't think had to have much thought.
She thought about Mike. About how they used to hold hands all the time and kiss because that's what boyfriends and girlfriends did. About how she thought she loved him. And she did love Mike, but as time unfolded, she realized that it was less than romantic. So, maybe her way of looking at relationships were a little skewed. And, El didn't know if she wanted Max to be her girlfriend. If she was, would that make her like Mike? El didn't want Max to be like Mike.
She looked at Max again then, her red hair catching in the streetlight like copper wire. El offered her a small smile. "Weβre not a couple," she said with a tentative nod. "I know that."
Honesty was something that made El feel like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, but she still added, "but I like being close to you. You make me feel... normal." El didnβt know if that was friendship or something else, but she didnβt need it to be more than what it was. Max had always seen her clearly, even before El could see it herself.
"I just don't get it. Don't friends hold hands? It doesn't have to be strange," El tried to explain, squeezing Max's hand. Not to make Max stay, or change anything, just to let her know she was still there despite it. "Why would people think it's so strange? Even if we were..." she let her words trail off, knowing Max could fill in that blank.
her voice caught him off guard more than her surprise presence did. he looked up, eyes adjusting to the light as he glanced up at her face. "no, i guess you're not," he said, a soft laugh falling from his mouth as he straightened up his posture. he didn't want this to be awkward, but something about talking to her made him want to sit up straight and look mildly presentable. his old feelings for her had died down, but the desire to ensure she didn't think he was a loser had not. "i might pass out," he admitted, the day's heat getting to him more than he would like to say. what had happened to that younger version of himself that could run around in the sun all summer and never give a damn if he was sweaty and gross? dead and buried with the passage of time, if he had to guess. he looked at the chips in her extended hand, noting that it was halfway empty before reaching out to take it. a half-full bag of chips was better than no bag of chips at all, which is what he currently had. he stuck his hand in and plucked one out, popping it into his mouth as he gestured up at el. "you don't have to give 'good gesture' gifts when you beat people at board games, by the way. or any kind of games for that matter," he told her. it was only a game, and if he was that upset by it then he really would be a dweeb. "that doesn't mean you shouldn't randomly walk up to me and give me chips, though. i will always accept food if you're willing to share," he grinned.
El practically lingered by as she stared down at Mike from behind the curtain of her bangs. "I know," she replied. "But... still." Honestly, winning the game had made El feel more normal, so to speak. She didnβt always win things. She didnβt always understand the rules of board games. In fact, she couldn't imagine anyone who grew up with them would understand them, either. It had made her weirdly happy that maybe all of the weird Operation: Make El Normal lessons had paid off.
"I liked that game night," El said after a quiet pause. "Even if you lost," her voice was slightly hesitant, almost like she was unsure if she was allowed to say that part completely out loud. Then, because sincerity made her itchy at times, she was quick to add in a, βyou still look like a wet sock.β
El let her gaze trail over the folding table, then the line of melting backpacks behind it, before pointing her chin toward his chair. "You want me to cover for you?" She asked. "I can pretend to be you. Say things like⦠'Please do not crush the cans. If you crush the cans, I will be deeply annoyed,'" her voice dipped into a lower register, doing her very best tortured Mike Wheeler impression.
She stepped behind the booth, with or without his permission - or invitation, really. Maybe it was just El recognizing a familiar face in the sea of people, or some type of exposure therapy she needed, but she quickly found herself a chair and slid it over. "Scooch your booch," a term she had picked up on from someone, somewhere. Once settled next to him, her gaze flicked over to his. "So, we're donation collecting?"
"Sea monsters?" Will repeated, incredulous as he turned to look at El. Sometimes Max would make jokes that went over El's head and she'd mistranslate them-- like that one time Max said Mr. Finkle's "bad eye" was actually a camera used by the government to spy on them. El had come home convinced there were Russians in Hawkins, and Will had to pull out Mom's encyclopedia to explain what a prosthetic was. "What does that mean?"
He welcomed a break from talking to customers, and Will crouched down into a seated position next to El. He patted her knee, glancing around the crowd in hopes he'd spot one of their friends. "Yeah," he admitted. It was mostly adults this early in the day, and he guessed Mike was running late or something.
The back to school bash was the kind of thing everybody ended up coming to-- not because there was a ton to do here, but because it shut down most other businesses in Hawkins-- so it ended up being a sweaty mass of people milling around the same one-mile stretch of main. It was way more fun when they were kids, and ducking between booths unsupervised was, like, the epitome of summer freedom. "Did you see Max already?" he prodded, reserving a comment about how much time they were spending together lately. Not like he had any space to judge, even if he wanted to.
"Oh, Hubert's your--" Will started, jaw dropping in fake offense at El's conclusion. "You haven't even started high school and you already think I'm lame?" he joked, tucking a hand behind his head and stretching out in the grass next to his sister. "What makes Hubert so lame?"
For a moment, she just laid there beside him. She could feel the uneven patch of grass poking into the back of her arm. "Like, seahorses," she plainly answered.
"I donβt think youβre lame," she said at last, like it was a serious correction. "Youβre justβ¦ Will." She turned her head to glance at him, eyebrows scrunched slightly, like maybe he shouldβve understood what that meant already. "Thatβs different."
"Hubert asked if I knew what Dungeons and Dragons was. Then tried to explain it to me for fifteen minutes. He spit when he talked," a pause, "a lot. Maybe I should ask him to join Mike's little club that he's always talking about. That's what I meant." El definitely wasn't good at playing, nor did she think she really enjoyed it. She liked it because Will and Mike liked it. That was where it ended.
Before he could mention anything else about her pointed lameness, she tilted her head toward the bustle of the drive. The parents laughing too loudly, pop music coming from a speaker, someone arguing over the last drawstring bag at a booth, and added, "I donβt think Iβm good at mentoring. Or at... this."
Her tone was flat, but not without feeling. Frustrated, maybe. A little vulnerable. "And I haven't seen Max yet," she shook her head. And maybe that was part of her problem. Nobody was together or around, and El hated being alone in a big space. Too suffocating. Especially when she couldn't find someone who was such a constant in her life like Max. "How am I supposed to find anyone here?" Then, a quirked look. "Have you seen Mike?"
there was something rather strange about the changing of the seasons. late summer would turn into early fall, but joyce wasn't really thinking of that at the moment. the calendar had turned over from july to august and with that, the new school year was about to start up. that signified a lot of things for her, whether she liked it or not. for one thing, her youngest son and her daughter would be entering their final year of school. it was a bit weird not having to do the homeschooling thing again this year, but she was glad that el would get to experience at least one normal year of schooling with will. additionally, her own life was shifting from something old to something new. it was her first year of administrative duty at hawkins high. if someone had told her twenty-six years ago, at her own high school graduation, that she would be working at the high school in her mid forties? yeah, she never would have believed that for a second. she was going to go places, do big things, and come back home one day rich beyond her wildest dreams! except, of course, that hadn't happened. the school drive was something that she didn't typically look forward to every year. she would usually have to drag her sons to sign up for the donated supplies, her meager wages at melvald's general store not always able to cover everything that they needed. but not this year. this year, her kids had each and every item on the back to school list. for once she could attend the event with her head held high, proud of who she was and what she was doing. her job at the drive was to sit behind a table at a booth sporting the green and gold school colors, handing out school calendars that entailed all of the events planned out so far for the upcoming school year. there was a small, battery operated fan blowing in her direction, the generated wind twisting her curls this way and that. so far, she was having a swell time. it was hot but it was nothing she wasn't used to, having lived in hawkins for forty-four years. "can i interest you in a calendar?" she asked to the next person who happened to wander by. "this booth is also the best place to get lanyards for your school id, hawkins high pennants, and special water bottles with 'class of '89' printed on them if you're a senior. we've also got some fun green and gold number two pencils and pens. take your pick!"
for: whoever from: joyce where: school drive block party !
El didnβt mean to sneak up, but it just kind of happened. She wasnβt exactly a booth person. Too many people. Too many questions. Even now, years after the mall and the monsters and the whole town almost falling into the Upside Down, she still felt like people looked at her a little too long. Whispered a little too often. It's not like anyone really knew anything, but even people who didn't know, could sense something was weird about her. And there would probably always be something weird about her.
But, El was really trying to blend in! To look like a real, teen girl. She had been for the last few years, but even then, the cons of being homeschooled and having only a few friends had definitely caught up with her.
She hovered for a second at the edge of Joyceβs booth. Long enough to hear her give the full pitch about school calendars, lanyards, water bottles, even the cheesy green and gold pencils with tiny cartoon hawks stamped into the sides. Elβs lips twitched into this sort of tight lipped smile that she only regarded for things that made her chest feel warm inside. It was nice seeing Joyce like this.
"Hi," she spoke, her voice just loud enough to catch Joyce's attention. "I am taking this," she added, without any real bite behind it as she reached for one of the pencils on the table. She couldβve asked. Of course she couldβve asked. But, it was up for grabs, wasn't it?
"You know you have fans?" El asked, a playful glint in her eyes. "That sophomore just asked you can have interns. Interns." She emphasized. It was kind of cool. El didn't know what it meant or felt like to be cool, but something about her psuedomom being seen as cool felt... cool? Maybe it was bound to save her ass this coming school year.
A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she leaned forward a little. "I think you might be a big deal."
every year, for whatever reason, mike seemed to go through something like selective amnesia. the winter months would roll through hawkins at a snail's pace, keeping him bundled up in striped sweaters and thick leather boots. there was always hot chocolate on hand in the wheeler household, so he typically had that instead of coffee every morning before school. what he failed to remember on those short, dreary days where the temperature dipped far below fifty degrees fahrenheit, was that the winter months didn't last. they eventually ended, as all things did, and summer would blast its way into indiana like a goddamn freight train when he least expected it. cue him at the build-a-backpack booth at noon with a black cardigan tied around his waist. the sun was up high in the sky and there didn't appear to be a single cloud in sight. the best thing he had for shade was the simple canopy up above the booth, though it didn't do much for the sweat heating up the back of his neck. he held a clipboard in one hand and an ice-cold can of coke in the other. the good stuff, not that new drivel the execs tried to push on everyone a while back (talk about a bad idea). it hadn't been his idea to sign up for the booth. matter of fact, he could have gone the whole drive not helping in the slightest. there was an air-conditioned bedroom at home with his name on it, a fresh vhs rented out from family video, and a back to school campaign that he desperately needed to finish putting together for hellfire before school opened back up. however, the maternal unit had absolutely insisted that he not only show his face at the drive, but that he also had to help in some form or fashion. his decision to sign up for the noon to two p.m. slot wasn't even his own; it just so happened to be the only one left. exhilarating. not ten seconds after he leaned back to close his eyes in a poor attempt to catch a nap - the booth wasn't very busy with all of the other things going on - he felt a shadow land in front of him. he sighed and sat back up, blinking his eyes open to the unyielding brightness of the day. "if you're here to donate, leave your items in the box to my left. don't just throw them in there, it could damage the cans and boxes and i'll be extra annoyed. if you're in need of a donation, i humbly offer you this clipboard and my pen with which you can fill out your information," he announced, setting the clipboard down onto the table in front of him and offering the best smile he could muster up on such short notice.
for: whoever from: mike where: back to hell school block party !
El had been watching Mike from a few booths down for the last minute or two with squinted eyes. He looked like he was melting through the summer heat. He even had a dramatic slump to his shoulders that said this might be the worst thing thatβs ever happened to me - which, for Mike Wheeler, meant apparently being in the sun for thirty minutes without a fan.
Eventually, she walked over. No rush. Just appeared in front of him like a very unimpressed summer ghost. Her arms were crossed, holding a half-empty iced tea sheβd gotten from the vending machine near the gym, the condensation dripping onto her wrist. It was probably watered down by now, but it was cold and that counted for something.
When Mike did his little speech, she just stared at him for a beat longer than was socially normal. Then she raised one brow and said, "Iβm not here for a donation." Although, when she did start to look around, she thought about taking the clipboard. As grateful as she often was for Joyce, there was always that nagging feeling in the back of her head that always said she was eating too much out of the fridge or getting too many clothes.
A pause. Then she added, "you look like you might pass out." With a hand, she dug into the bag that was slung over her shoulder and pulled out a half-eaten bag of chips sheβd been saving for later. "It's like a good gesture. For beating you at Monopoly last week."
who: will byers & open! where: back to school block party!
There were a lot of things to be worried about heading into senior year. For one, Will was already bracing himself for the same kind of torment he got in middle school. Sure, Lucas was popular now and Will at least had the Hellfire Club to fall back on in the friend category, but that didn't change his status as homeschooled-zombie-boy-freak. On top of that, Mom had just gotten an administration job at Hawkins High, which she swears is just a good opportunity-- but bring-your-mom-to-school day wasn't likely to score him any cool points, either. Not that Will particularly cared about being cool-- he mostly just wanted to be left alone.
Then they sent the letter home about Freshman Focus day, and assigned Will a freshman to mentor. He was more than a little panicked about this-- what the hell could he possibly tell an incoming freshman that would have any merit? Don't bike home at night? If you start seeing visions, tell someone because you might be possessed? Will sighed, hoisting a box of school supplies onto the folding chair behind the Melvald's booth and beginning to sort the notebooks according to color. Jonathan had stepped away for a smoke break, and Will didn't think any of his friends were here yet, so he didn't mind finishing the setup.
When a potential customer looked his way, Will offered a gentle smile, dropping his hand onto the table and smoothing out the forest green tablecloth. "Hi!" he greeted, watching them for a moment before asking, "Can I ask you sort of a weird question?" Will decided to go for it, desperate for any piece of wisdom he could dispense to his mentee on Saturday. "What's something you wish you knew as a freshman?"
El had been hovering near the school supply booth for a minute too long, pretending to study a rack of neon pink folders that hurt her eyes. She wasnβt sure if she wanted college-ruled or wide-ruled notebooks. Did she even care? Did it matter? Mostly, she was stalling. The party was louder than sheβd expected, and when she realized just how many people she didn't recognize, she hadnβt worked up the nerve to say hi yet. How was she going to make friends at school if she couldn't even say hi?
Then she heard him. Will. It was gentle, familiar, and maybe it was a little embarrassing to cling to the people she did know, especially lived with. He was talking to someone, but that had never stopped El before. She hesitated as she crossed over to the booth.
"Max said to avoid the cafeteria fish sticks," she announced, a little too abruptly. "That they are made of sea monsters," she deadpanned. Not that she actually believed they were sea monsters, she wasn't quite so gullible. And the sea monsters comment was enough to make whoever Will was talking to walk away.
El plopped down on the curb beside him and laid her back onto what little patch of grass was behind them. "This sucks," she groaned, draping her forearm across her eyes. If El hated the crowds and being around classmates, she had a hunch that Will felt the same. She didn't want to complain much. This was the freedom El craved and wanted. She couldn't go back on her word now. "And Hubert does not like me," she said. The mentee she had been assigned was some crater-faced bug of a boy.
"You might like him. He's..." she trailed off, trying to find the proper words that both made sense and wouldn't offend Will. "...Lame?"
courtney via misha212
