Chapter Text
“But, Mr. Schauer, I specifically requested tomorrow off. See, it’s my birthday-”
“And I feel badly, Mike,” his manager shrugged, hardly stopping to give him a sympathetic look. He slipped past the swinging door and into the customer service office. Mike met him at the counter. “But there’s no one to cover your shift.”
“I requested off months ago-”
“And so did everyone else. They must have beaten you to the punch. I’m sorry.”
Mike let out a heavy breath. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then, Mr. Schauer.”
He left for the coat room to trade his apron for his blue jacket and, by the time he emerged, Mr. Schauer was already preoccupied with a customer in a frenzy, wondering why she was being charged ten dollars for a gallon of milk and a carton of eggs.
“I’m sure it’s just a mix-up,” he assured her, smiling widely and reaching for her receipt as Mike left the store, the headache of high-pitched item scanners and trolling customers, behind him.
“Lucas, it’s Mike. Do you copy? Over,” he spoke, balancing the walkie-talkie between the handlebars of his bike. He was pedaling fast toward home.
“Yeah, I copy. Over,” Lucas’ voice rang out like static in the crisp November air, which bit Mike’s lips, chapped them. He licked them in an attempt to keep them moisturized.
“I’m scheduled tomorrow. Can you and Will come over tonight instead? Over.”
“Mike, we would, but it’s Saturday night. We’re meeting Dustin and Stace at the arcade. Hey, why don’t you come with us? Over.”
“No, that’s okay. O-”
“No, Mike- come with us. In twelve hours, you’re going to be bagging old ladies’ groceries. On your birthday. So- just- have some fun until then. Okay? Meet us there at eight. Over and out.”
“Lucas- damn it.”
He kicked harder at the pedals until he made it home, dropping his bike on the front lawn and tripping over his long legs, twisting them like pretzels. His stubborn key took a minute to unlock the door, but then he was stumbling inside and slamming it shut.
“Mom, Dad, I’m home,” he hollered, pounding up the stairs to his bedroom. There was a muffled acknowledgement from his mom in the kitchen when he settled into his bed, shuffling the covers around with his shins.
Two hours. He was supposed to meet the boys in two hours. He could get a good nap in in two hours, right?
Apparently not. Because two and a half hours later, Lucas was calling his name through the walkie-talkie, telling him to stop being a loser and get his ass over here.
“Sorry, Lucas, I fell asleep,” he muttered, sitting up and rubbing his eyes with his left fist. “I’ll meet you there in ten. Over and out.”
He stayed out until twelve, which he would come to regret in the morning, but- his friends were worth it. They bought him a cupcake from the bakery on High Street and Dustin won him a dumb stuffed animal. He named it Eleven, and, under his comforter, hugged it into the next morning.
He was finally sixteen, finally old enough to be able to drive himself around, and he was celebrating by stacking bread on top of eggs, and stuff the chips in there if you can. Frozen items go in a paper bag. Oh, and don’t forget to thank the customer on their way out , Schauer’s voice repeated itself like a mantra between Mike’s two ears.
He loaded a final paper bag into some lady’s cart. “Thank you for shopping with us,” he tried to grin.
“Thank you for your service,” she smiled, thin-lipped but kind. She nodded her head and went on her way.
“Mike!” Schauer hollered. Mike looked over. There were customers at his elbows, begging for attention, and he pointed to a girl at the exit. “Help me out, here. Girl is trying to steal-” he started, but Mike was already taking long strides toward her.
“Hey,” he tried as the sliding doors shut behind her. They opened up again for him. “Hey!”
She turned around. Her hair met her shoulders, was just longer than Dustin’s. She was so pale, and her eyebrows were kind of wild. He brought his own together.
“You- you have to- you have to pay for those.”
He was hallucinating. He was going to faint. His eyes smeared and, when he started to sway, she steadied him with a single word.
“Mike?”
It felt too real to be a dream. His eyes were too wet and the yellow of the box of frozen waffles too bright, his skin too sticky with sweat and uniform heavy on his shoulders. But it seemed too surreal to be, well, real. The concept was- bizarre, that Eleven could be there, right there, in front of him. Standing and staring.
“El?”
She nodded her head, sniffed real loud. “I’m at Hopper’s.”
“What? I- give me two minutes, I gotta clock out. I’ll tell Schauer it’s a family emergency- which, well, it kind of is. Just- wait for me, okay? I’ll be right-”
“Go, Mike. I’ll wait.”
He slammed a dollar on the customer service counter, apologized profusely to Schauer, and ran. Ran like he wasn’t sure she’d still be there.
She was.
She looked at him with wide eyes, crossed one Converse-clad foot over the other, and shook a little bit.
“Mike,” she said again, lip quivering. The sight broke his heart, just cracked and shattered it. Split it open. He reached for her and she, stiffly, let him hug her.
“You’re tall,” she laughed despite her tears when he let her go.
“Your hair is long,” he said. She nodded.
“Can we go somewhere?”
“Anywhere.”
She nodded again, and wiped her eyes on her arm. When she was ready, he offered her his hand, and they walked all the way to his house and into his basement.
“Damn it, El,” his voice broke. He slammed the door behind them. “I missed you-”
She reached for his striped tee, bunched it up with her palm, and pressed him up against the door.
“I watched a movie,” she breathed, and he felt it on his chin. “At Hopper’s. Grease. This was how they-” she struggled to find the word she was looking for. His eyes darted, not sure whether to settle on her lips, which were sounding out words, or her eyes on his.
He met her eyes and she, sure she had his attention, tackled his mouth with her lips, kissing him just as quickly as he had her in the cafeteria. Harder, though. And for longer. They moved together for close to a minute, until they ran out of shared breath between them.
Taking a step back and drawing a sharp breath, she tried again. “That was how they-”
“Kissed,” he said.
“Kissed.”