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It isn't easy at first.
But if she tells the truth, none of it is easy at all.
It's really hard.
Everything changed. Before she even processed it, she was in California in a new house for the second time in a few months with a mom and brothers, and while she's thankful that Joyce cares for her and does the best she can to make it feel like home, it never works.
She knows she isn't alone in that. She can see how sad Will feels about it all; she learned quickly that his eyes tell a lot about him.
Jonathan is more difficult to figure out. Sometimes she catches him smiling and letting it fall the second he thinks no one is watching anymore. She's not sure what that means, but she can't remember the last time the phone rang with Nancy being on the other end; she thinks that has a lot to do with it.
Then, there was school. They join almost two months after it starts. Will tells her that a lot of their classmates had probably already found their cliques. "No, it's different. C-l-i-q-u-e-s. People use it like we use 'party.' It's the same thing, really," he had explained with a gentle smile. Secretly, she hopes he's wrong. They're in a new place. She might miss Mike and her friends so much, but there's a chance to start fresh, and some new faces might be nice.
Turns out Will wasn't wrong.
There are a lot of Troys in California. Girl Troys, too. She doesn't know why they pick her, and sometimes Will, but they reach a new level of mean every day. A lot of the time, she wishes Max was there with her. Max would know what to say to get them to shut up. She always knew what to say.
Even so, the hardest part about it all is lying to Mike.
It wasn't always like that.
The first time he called her on the phone, she cried. Half because his voice coming through the receiver made her feel warm inside in a way she hadn't felt since she left him, half because it just hurt. It reminded her that he was so far away when the only thing she wanted to do was to tuck herself into him and pretend everything was better.
Both things tightened her chest in different ways. Kind of like they wanted to split her apart.
When he asks about her new life, she's honest when she says that it's a little too hot sometimes, and even though Joyce is treating her so good, she can't help but miss Hopper. Then, after a moment's hesitation, she decides to tell him about the girls she had heard whispering about her clothes on her first day of school and how it didn't stop in the days after that.
"Yeah? Well, don't listen to them." Mike spat over the line, "They're just jealous because you're the prettiest girl in school now."
She let out a light laugh as she twirled the cord around her fingers, "You don't know that."
"Yes, I do." Always so stubborn, he went on, "You're the prettiest girl in the world, so you have to be the prettiest at Lenora Hills. It's logic."
"If you say so."
His tone grew deeper as he released a deep breath, "I'm sorry that there are jerks there, too, but if any of them give you a real problem, you just tell me, and I'll be out there. I mean it."
"Would you fly?"
"El, I'd run if I had to."
He spends the rest of the call trying to make her feel better, telling her funny stories about the rest of the party. Yet, even as he tries to joke, a darker presence lurks in the undercurrent of voice. If she hadn't spent so long memorizing it, she might not have noticed the difference, but something was going on with him, too.
She tries getting him to talk about it.
"Oh, it's nothing really, but I'll tell you about it in my letter, okay? My mom's going to kill me if I'm on the phone for another minute."
"Do you promise?"
"I promise," Mike heaved a heavy sigh, "but I really gotta go. I'm sorry. Same time next week?"
Her throat got a little smaller at the thought of goodbye, "Yes."
"Okay, cool. And El?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you. Don't forget that, alright?"
"I love you, too, Mike." It was when she hung the phone back up that she couldn't do anything to stop the tears from filling her eyes.
Five days pass before Joyce hands her a letter with a wink. El's eyes light up when she recognizes Mike's messy handwriting on the envelope. She clutches it to her chest and all but runs to her room.
She wastes no time tearing the letter open.
Dear El,
It's day 18. Which I don't get because it feels like it's been forever since you left, and I miss you like it's been that long, too. The only good thing is that the bigger the number gets, the sooner we see each other again. I seriously can't wait.
High school still sucks pretty hard, but I know you know that, too. And if you're wondering, no, the swim coach hasn't stopped bugging me to join the team. I don't know. At this point, I kind of respect how hard he's trying. My mom thinks it's a good idea, but she also married my dad, so I don't really trust her judgment. Plus, I think she just wants me out of the house.
I haven't said this because I didn't want you to worry, but you know me better than anyone. And I know you know something is off and it's probably easier to write down than say out loud in any case, but home has gotten weird. I never thought the person I'd be spending the most time with would be Holly, but it's okay. I have fun with her, anyway. Nancy has been in her own world lately. I think I have, too. I would talk to her, but I'm not really sure where to start. It's just kind of hard not to feel alone here, especially when one person you talk to only wants to have tea parties and play princesses and the other just nags you over your grades all the time. I'm okay, though. Like seriously, I'll get over it.
As for the latest about the party, we're still trying our best to keep things normal, but we all miss you guys a lot. Lucas is thinking about trying out for basketball in the winter. Which sure is...something. I already told you about that stupid club Dustin wants us to join in my last letter, but he hasn't shut up about it since. I don't know what I want to do. The guys in it seem like they're the type that try to be outcasts because that's their idea of cool or whatever. We'll see what happens. I guess Dustin's right when he says it's not like I have anything better to do.
And before I forget, I don't know if you've talked to Max lately, but I'm a little worried about her. I'm worried about the party, in general, actually. I have a really bad feeling that with you and Will in California, all of us are gonna go in different directions here. I hope that's all in my head or something. Anyway, I think you should talk to Max when you get the chance. I tried asking myself, but she almost bit my head off. I hope she doesn't expect me to do that shit again because I'm not.
This is a really long letter. Sorry about that. I guess it all just comes down to how much I wish you were here. I think things would be a lot different if you were. So anyway, that's all that's going on with me, just like I promised. I hope school's gotten better for you by time you get this. Fat chance but maybe those girls will have grown some brains. I miss you more than you can imagine, and I can't wait to hear your voice again.
Always yours.
Love,
Mike
If he was there, Hop would say that she and Mike were in the same boat. Mike had just as much going on as she did, but he spent most of the time trying to make sure she was okay. The least she could do was try to not seem as sad as she was. He didn't need any more to worry about.
In the times that followed, she started to leave bits out. She didn't tell him that the whispers had turned into words hurled at her face or how the kids in class would snicker at her when she was called to read out loud. And it seemed like it was working because Mike would tell her how glad he was that she seemed to be adjusting, and he seemed to be a little happier all around, too.
It's not the only benefit, either. There's also a release she feels when she makes it seem like everything is okay. For a few minutes, she convinces herself that it's not as bad as it seems, that things are getting better. Of course, it doesn't last long because she gets up the next day and is swiftly brought back to reality, but it's worth something.
So, she tries not to sound too disappointed when he calls to tell her Karen grounded him for Thanksgiving because he let his history grade slip. Or when she has to call and say that Joyce can't afford to send her and Will out for Christmas.
She cries when she hangs up the phone those times, too.
Months later, she thinks about all those moments as she sits down at her desk to write him a letter. Her week was probably the worst it ever was. She can still hear the laughter of her bullies echo if she closes her eyes. She's saved the world, and somehow they make her feel small. The pain pairs with the one caused by missing Hop and Mike. That's not to mention the fear that strikes her when the nightmares of Papa make their nasty return, keeping her awake well into the night.
Still, she knows she has to put her brave face on.
There's not much to leave out when it's all bad, and she feels she shouldn't say as much when she puts her pen to the page. For the first time, she resorts to fully lying. Mostly because she doesn't want to worry Mike, but there's also a part of her hoping if she writes that things are good on paper one more time, and maybe a few times after that, she can stop pretending and start living.
She's beginning to give up on hope, though.
Dear Mike,
Today is day 185. I think I have finally adapted…