Tell Me Something Good

017

Mikes POV

1:09 pm the next day, I  ride with Nancy and Jonathan in the car. Low music plays throughout the entire car. Eleven went with my mother, she said they were going shopping; which I don't get because she just got out of the hospital. Nancy turns the music down even lower from the passenger seat.

"Mike, you heard Corinne," she turns around to face me in the back seat. "Try to help Eleven when she has mood swings and stuff like that." I suddenly become defensive.

"I always help her I don't know what you're talking about." Nancy rolled her eyes.

"I know Mike, but don't belittle her or be confused. Bottom line just do what she asks." I simply nod my head and stare out the window. Pine trees move in green, blurry hues; like a water color painting. I focus on where we are: a dead, dry field with no crops for miles. Winter has killed the plants down to their roots. Indiana is filled with random fields and planes like these, but most of these farms are abandoned. Silos empty with holes all around, and wooden barns rotted, and infested with termites. We pass my school and that's when I know we are back in Hawkins. School. We go back to school in 3 days. How is El going to do? Will he have a tantrum in class? I suddenly become worried and my stomach drops. I fidget with my fingers and gulp loudly. This will be a...fun experience.

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Eleven sits at the kitchen table with crayons in her clammy hands. She's drawing a picture of what seems to be a flower. She seems happy, or at least she's acting it. I just want to cherish her   happiness before she lashes out for a split second; if that even happens, anyway.

I bring a glass of water over to where she sits. She doesn't look up from her picture, she just keeps coloring with a faint smile.

"What's that there?" I say trying to make conversation, clearly knowing it's a flower. She looks up and gives me a dirty look.

"It's a flower, mouthbreather, what does it look like?" Oh wow. Ok, mood swing number one. Eleven: 1 Mike: 0. My eyes go wide and I remember what Nancy said.

"It looks really good!" I say, sorta faking a smile. She looks up at me and her eyes are gentle.

"Really? You can have it." She looks like she's going to cry. She gets up and hands the paper to me.

"I'll hang it in my room, next to everything else" I think she's ok now. She gets an idea and takes the paper back into her own hands. She places it on the table and scribbles a few words on it. She hands it back to me, and at the bottom of the page it says,

Mike is a cool boy and I love him — El.

The only thing I could do was laugh. She looks at me with hurt in her eyes.

"You don't like it?" Her voice shakes.

"No, El I love it. It's cute." I put a hand around her arm and pull her in for a hug. She hugs me tight and we sway a little. Behind her back I hold up the picture in front of me. It actually was a pretty good drawing of a flower. I'm interrupted by her voice.

"Mike?"

"Yea El?"

"I think I need to cry."

"...oh uh, do you want to be alone?"

"No. Cry with me?" I look at her in confusion.

"I don't need to cry, I'm not sad." She shakes her head.

"You don't need to be sad to cry."

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She lays on her back on the cold concrete floor of my basement. Her tears soak her face and the ground beneath her. She might as well have drowned Hawkins by now. I keep asking her if she's ok, and she keeps responding with yes, love you Mike. She would have told me if something was wrong, so I guess she really does just want to cry. No rhyme or reason, she just has to get it out. I mean, most people would take a bath, or read a book....but this is El, not "most people." She sits up and wipes her face with a sigh.

"I think I'm done." She immediately makes her way over to me on the couch. She looks up at me through her lashes and I kiss her forehead. She shakes her head once.

"Not there." She whispers. She taps her lips twos times and smirks innocently. I touch her face and pull her closer to me. Our lips connect and I feel like I haven't kissed her in forever. Her lips are oddly cold, but I enjoy it all the same. They were warm by the time our friction had ended.

I feel her draw tiny lines across my hand with the pen. She insisted on drawing on me, but I didn't really have an issue with it in the first place. She dramatically clicks the pen closed and smiles widely at me.

"Done!" She exclaims with a clap. I bring my hand to my face to she what she had scribbled on me; a flower. This one was more like a sunflower. I liked it right there, but only because she drew it.

"El, I really like this." She smiles proudly. "I'm just sad it will wash away." I say under my breath. All of a sudden I get an idea. I grab El and sprint up the stairs to my room. I dig through one of my draws of miscellaneous items and find my Polaroid camera. I check the film: 2 pictures left. I take a picture of my hand, and the last picture of me and Eleven kissing. I hang both of them on my wall of special things. We both stare at my wall for a while in silence.

"I like it." She says gently. I grab her hand and squeeze it for a second.

"I like it too."