Will laid in his bed, eyes on the ceiling, the light from his window shining on his face. He had no idea what time it was; he guessed some time before noon since his mom had announced breakfast was ready a few minutes ago. When he'd awoken, he couldn't seem to get himself up and out of bed. The night before, all he could think about was the mixtape. That damn mixtape. He couldn't get it out of his head, and when he woke up, the thoughts invaded his mind yet again like a parasite. He felt ill. All he could imagine was Mike's face when he listened to his recording. What would Mike think? How would Mike feel? Happy? Annoyed? Creeped out? Disgusted? His stomach ached at the thought.
"Will, do you copy? It's Mike."
His heart jumped into his throat. Will's head whipped around his room, peering around for his Supercom as Mike continued to talk. "Do you copy, Will? This is important." Oh shit, oh shit. He grasped underneath his bed and pulled out his Supercom, his hands trembling. "Will, I need to talk to you."
"Yeah, I – I copy. What-" He sucked in a breath, trying to keep himself and his voice steady. "What is it? Over."
"Will, we need to talk. Over."
His heart pounded in his ears. He pressed the button on the Supercom, opened his mouth, but then he paused, his stomach flipping. What if Mike rejected him? What if he hated him? What if he never wanted to see him ever again and this would be the last time they ever talked? What if he hadn't even listened to the tape? Oh, this was all too much for him. He let go of the button, turned off his Supercom, and shoved it back beneath his bed.
He made his way to the kitchen to get his mind off of Mike and stopped in his tracks when he saw El sitting at the table. Hopper and his mom were talking by the counter, cups of coffee in their hands. He approached the table, pulling out a chair and seating himself across from El. She smiled at him, and he asked, "What are you doing over?"
"Your mom invited us. She said we can play board games and watch movies."
Board games and movies? He glanced at his mom who was talking to Hopper before looking back to El. "Want to listen to some music in my room?"
She nodded, and they both left the kitchen. In his room, he put one of Jonathan's mixtapes into his boombox and plopped down on his bed with a sketchbook in hand. El sat beside him, listening intently to the music. With his box of crayons, he began sketching the girl he'd been spending so much time with lately, who felt almost like a sister to him now. He drew her red hair, waves of it flowing down her shoulders, her array of freckles like specks of brown paint splattered over her skin, and her skateboard, the thing that made her Mad Max. El leaned against Will's shoulder, watching the drawing progress, a smile spreading over her face. "Pretty," she murmured.
Will glanced up at her. "You think so?"
"Can you draw me some day, too?" she asked.
"Oh." Seeing her eager eyes, he gave her a small smile. "Okay, sure. Let me finish this one first." He took a red crayon and wrote the words Mad Max in the empty space beside the drawing. He tore it out of the sketchbook, handed it to El, and began drawing her. This was good, he figured. He was getting his mind off Mike. El being here was the perfect distraction. When he finished the drawing, he tore it out of the sketchbook and held it up to her. "What do you think?"
"I love it." She took it in her hands, tracing her fingertips over the lines. "How do you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Make it so... pretty?"
"I just..." He looked down at his hands, his cheeks growing hot. He never knew how to answer questions like that. "I draw all the time, so I guess it just comes naturally at this point."
"Can you draw Mike?"
"What?"
"Mike. Can you draw him?"
"Oh, um..." Drawing Mike was a bad idea. He knew it. He was trying to get Mike off his mind, not think about the way his freckles painted his cheeks and his dark hair fell over his eyebrows. But one look at El's face, the way she smiled so blissfully at him, he couldn't say no. Lifting his shoulder in a shrug, he pressed his crayon down on the next page. He started with his nose, what he considered the most prominent feature on Mike's face, before moving on to the rest of his face and decorated it with tiny freckles. His hand seemed to be moving by itself, so used to drawing Mike's features that it was almost ingrained in him. He finished faster than he had the other two drawings and handed it to El.
She stared at it for awhile, her eyes studying it. Will set his sketchbook on his desk. "Can I keep these?" El asked.
"Yeah, sure." Will put on another one of Jonathan's mixtapes while El kept looking at his drawings.
"Phone, Will!" Jonathan called from the hall.
Will excused himself, went out into the hall, and took the phone from Jonathan. "Hello?"
"Hey, Will," Mike said.
Panic struck him like a lightning bolt. He slammed the phone back onto the receiver, ending the call, his mind was whirling. He jumped when the phone rang in front of him. All he could do was stare at it.
Jonathan came back into the hall, frowning when he saw Will standing like a statue in front of the ringing phone. "What are doing? Aren't you going to answer it?"
Will shook his head stiffly. "No. It's just... um... Lucas's sister. She keeps prank-calling."
"I thought Mike was just on the phone with you?"
He shook his head again. "No, he wasn't. That was Lucas's sister."
Jonathan gave him a funny look. "Are you alright, Will?"
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" He stuffed his hands in his pockets and rushed back into his room where El raised her eyebrows at him. He shut the door and flopped onto the bed.
🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁
Max waited, her stomach twisted in a knot, as the phone rang. Once. Twice. Three times. On the fifth ring, Lucas's voice answered. "Hello?"
"Hey, it's Max."
"Oh, hi, Max," he said enthusiastically. "What's up?"
"Not much." She leaned her forehead against the wall, closing her eyes. "Can you come over? I wanted to talk to you about something."
"Yeah, alright. I'll be there in ten."
She hung up and wandered over to her bed, throwing herself face-down onto the mattress. Her head ached like someone was pounding a hammer into it. She rubbed her temples, squeezing her eyes shut in an attempt to ease her mind. It didn't work.
When Lucas arrived, Max led him to her room, closed the door, and sat down on the bed. She patted the space beside her. He sat down and gave her a smile while she folded her hands in her lap. "So, Mad Max, what did you want to talk about?"
"I-" She sucked in a breath, looking at her hands. "See, the thing is, I've been thinking a lot about it and... I don't think we're a good match."
"Are you breaking up with me again?"
Max nodded.
"Why? What'd I do?"
"No, no, it wasn't you. You didn't do anything." She shook her head. This wasn't like the other times they'd broken up. No, this was serious, and she knew it. "This time it's me. I'm the problem."
"What happened?"
"I..." She swallowed, trying to find the words to explain without telling him everything. She had no idea how he would react, and it was absolutely killing her.
"Max, what is it?"
She sighed, looking up at the ceiling. "I have feelings for someone else."
"Oh." He glanced to the floor, furrowed his eyebrows, and looked back at her. "Wait, who?"
"I can't really-"
"It's not Will, is it?"
"Huh? Will? No, no, not-"
"'Cause Mike mentioned you and Will were hanging out a lot while I was on vacation, so I wondered if..."
"No, Lucas, it's not Will."
"Oh, okay. I mean, it would be totally fine if it was, but I don't know if you're really Will's type."
"I know I'm not his type, and he's not mine. It's not him I have feelings for, Lucas." She held back a laugh. Never in a million years did she think someone would suspect her and Will having feelings for each other. Somehow, that never occurred to her.
"Alright, then who is it?"
"It's-" She bit her lip. Should she say it? Could she trust him?
"Is it Dustin?"
"No, Lucas."
"Mike?"
Max guffawed. "No way!"
Lucas shrugged. "Yeah, I didn't think so, but who is it then? Did you meet some other guy in our class?"
"No."
"Then... who is it?" He didn't sound malicious, Max noted. Just curious.
"It's not..." Her stomach twisted tighter. "It's – it's not a guy."
Lucas blinked, going quiet. His eyebrows drew together. "... Eleven?"
"Yeah."
He sat, tilting his head to the side as he stared at the ground. "How long have you liked her?"
"Well... since this past summer, I think." She reached out and took Lucas's hand gently. "I'm sorry, Lucas."
"There's no need to be sorry, Max." He looked up into her eyes. "Really. Feelings change, people grow. I understand."
"You're not angry?"
He shook his head. "Of course not. I'm actually glad you told me." He nudged her, grinning. "Now I can be your wingman."
"Wingman for what?"
"You know, telling El how you feel about her. If you're planning on doing that, that is."
Max let out a breathless laugh. "Oh, man, I really should, but I don't know how I'm going to get around Mike. Doesn't that seem like a shitty thing to do?"
"What? Tell her how you feel?"
"Yes. She's dating Mike, and they're our friends. It just doesn't feel right."
Lucas shrugged. "I guess so, but if you're doing it only to tell her, and not to be with her, isn't that a bit different? Telling her how much she means to you without forcing her to feel it back."
"Telling her just to tell her?"
"Exactly."