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You can hear it in the silence
You can feel it on the way home
You are in love
True love
The Snow Ball is named for the time of year in which it takes place, the winter. El did not experience winter, growing up. She learned about snow in the days she spent stumbling through the woods, with numb fingers stained blue by frost.
Now, her eyelids are painted pink. She wears less than she did during those weeks she was hiding, this dress thinner and unaccompanied by a flannel shirt or tube socks, but she thinks she’s warmer than she’s ever been.
El’s heart is full of something called love, of a boy called Mike who she notices as soon as she walks in, sitting at a table with a frown on his solemn face.
Mike catches her eye, and his melancholy disappears. He rises and walks towards her, looking tender and bright.
“You look beautiful,” he gushes, stumbling on the first syllable.
She smiles and ducks her head, overwhelmed.
Mike glances at the dance floor, then back at his date. “Do you want to dance?”
“I… don’t know how,” El admits, following his gaze to the dancing students.
“I don’t either,” Mike assures her. “Do you want to figure it out?”
It is everything she has wanted for an odd three hundred and fifty days. Mike offers his hand, which is soft and pale and bigger than her own. El likes the way he brushes his thumb over the back of her hand as he guides her through the crowd.
On the floor, he drapes her fingers over his shoulders. His jacket is corduroy, brown like the dirt outside her bedroom window, adorned in sprouting daisies.
“Like that,” Mike advises, then curls his fingers around her waist.
El soon forgets to be worried, distracted by Mike’s warm eyes on hers. She smiles at him fiercely and begins to sway in time with him.
Dancing, she soon finds, is an intrinsic affair. She listens to the music and follows her instincts when moving her arms and her feet. It becomes a distant consideration when she focuses on Mike; his smile is the widest she has ever seen it.
It stays on his face all night – except for one selfish moment, when Lucas and Dustin pull El out of his arms, stealing her for a dance. El is laughing as Dustin serenades her, as Lucas takes her by the hand and twirls her around, so Mike does his best not to scowl. He feels better when El reaches for him again, not even halfway through the song.
After that, El doesn’t let go of him again. Not when they’re getting punch and she has to use her left hand to hold her cup, not when they’re standing and talking with the Party, not when they’re waiting in line to have their photo taken by Jonathan.
They both drag their feet about leaving. The gym is almost empty, Party members scattered throughout, a handful of kids waiting for their parents outside. Music continues to play idly, but it seems obvious that the playlist is nearing its end. In a way, El wishes it never would.
“Almost over,” she says. She looks over Mike’s shoulder, where more children are wandering outside, rubbing at their eyes and tugging at their shawls.
“It looks like it,” Mike replies, but he doesn’t stop dancing.
He turns her under his arm and pulls her back in, making El giggle. She softens when she sees his triumphant grin, thinking about how much he has grown since the night when he vowed to take her to a school dance.
“You kept your promise,” El whispers.
“I guess I did,” Mike says with a sad chuckle. “I’m sorry it took so long.”
“Not your fault,” El says.
It might take a while for Mike to understand this – to forgive himself for things he couldn’t control – but El doesn’t mind. She knows the rewards of patience.
Such as tonight: this winter wonderland, the school gym made magical by blue streamers and silver ribbons, by star-shaped lights twinkling on the ceiling. Against all odds, after waiting forever, Mike and El made it to the Snow Ball. They made it back to one another.
He spins her in another circle, pulling her in for the final chorus.
Sometimes, the kitchen radio taunts El. It will play a song she heard at the Snow Ball and make her feel wistful about her brief freedom, desperate to see Mike again.
One day, Every Breath You Take begins playing in Mike’s presence. El is leaning on the counter, watching Mike make them hot chocolates. They recognise the song at the same time, and turn to one another with giddy excitement.
“The first Snow Ball song!” El exclaims.
“Yeah,” Mike agrees, his smile sweet. “It’s a good one.”
“I think of the Snow Ball every time I hear it.”
“Me too.”
“Will we ever dance again?” El asks, the question out before she knows it. “Like we did at the Snow Ball?”
Mike looks charmed. “You want to dance again?”
“Yes. It was fun.”
“Yeah, it was,” Mike says, taking a sip from his mug. “We can definitely dance again. There are other school dances we can go to, like homecoming and prom. They’re more or less the same as the Snow Ball, there’s a dance floor and music and lots of kids, but they won’t have the same winter theme.”
“More Snow Balls?” El asks, excited.
Mike nods. “You can go to them when you’re at school. But there’ll be other chances to dance – people dance at parties, I think.”
“And drink alcohol?” She recognises the scenario Mike is describing from TV.
“Right,” Mike chuckles. “But, you know… You don’t have to wait for the next school dance, or for a party. You can dance whenever you want, in the cabin.”
El’s brow furrows.
“You can put on the radio, or a mixtape, and just kind of go for it,” Mike tries to explain. “Like we did at the Snow Ball.”
He demonstrates by moving his shoulders in time to the song on the radio, a bit red-faced. El grins and tries to copy him, waving her arms and bouncing on her feet.
“Just like that!” Mike encourages. “Try not to think about it too much. There’s no right way to do it, it’s just for fun. I don’t know, I don’t really dance much.”
El is reminded of what Mike said to her after she told him that she didn’t know how to dance – that he didn’t know, either. He’s made good on the suggestion that they figure it out together.
“Do you want to dance?” El asks him. Her fear of being seen as strange is quiet when she knows, deep in her bones, that Mike would never judge her. What’s more, there is the phrase Hopper taught her, ‘wrapped around your finger’, which means that Mike would do almost anything she wanted.
“Sure,” Mike says, looking both embarrassed and pleased. “If you want to.”
Feeling eager, El flings her arms around Mike’s neck, pulling him down with such force that their noses collide.
“Whoa!” Mike exclaims, startled. El can tell he isn’t upset when he takes the opportunity to close the small space between them and kiss her.
They get into position – his hands on her waist, hers on his shoulders – and begin their loose waltz. They weave around the furniture in the kitchen and the living room, laughing as they go. At one point, when El is least expecting it, Mike dips her, rather gracelessly, and leans down to kiss her cheek. The cabin tilts upside down and El feels delirious with happiness.
At his first high school party, Mike finds himself sequestered in the corner with his friends. Treading elsewhere seems treacherous, when the house is alive with pumping music and rumbling teenagers.
Dustin takes a sip from his cup and grimaces at the taste.
“Abort mission?” he suggests, turning to his friends.
“No way I’m leaving El here by herself,” Mike says.
Unlike the boys, El and Max are in on the action, dancing in the crowd. El stands out, looking beautiful in her lacy white dress, with her honey hair swaying around her.
“She’ll have Max,” Will grumbles. He was the least willing to attend the party.
“Maybe we should join in,” Lucas says, staring at Max.
“And risk looking like total morons?” Mike scoffs. “Slow dancing is one thing, this is something else.”
“This is Wham,” Will points out, as a new song starts. “You don’t have to be cool for Wham.”
Horror settles on Dustin’s face. “Oh, God. This song traumatised me and Steve… We followed who we thought was a criminal to a Jazzercise class.”
“What are you talking about?” Mike asks, exasperated.
“Jazzercise could be considered a criminal offence,” Lucas offers.
El and Max seem to have a different opinion on the song. Mike watches the girls grasp at one another’s hands with fresh enthusiasm.
“Jitterbug!” they exclaim in unison, jumping up and down.
“Look at them,” Dustin says, awed. “Not a care in the world.”
“If we were that pretty, we probably wouldn’t care either,” Lucas says.
Mike knows El to be blind to her own beauty, which means it’s more bravery than confidence that has her dancing in public. He smiles and leans against the wall, settling in to watch her. What he doesn’t expect is for El to stare back at him with an imploring look on her face.
“Oh no,” Mike mumbles, as El starts waving him towards her.
“Come on, Mike!” Max calls. “Surely you’re not scared of a little dancing!”
“Mike!” El echoes, narrowing her eyes at him.
“Do you think she would drag you over telekinetically?” Lucas asks Mike.
“No,” Mike sighs. “She knows she doesn’t have to. You wanna come?”
“Next song,” Lucas says, grinning. “I want to watch you embarrass yourself, first.”
El has interpreted Mike’s delay as a refusal, but she has not resorted to using her powers. She breaks out of the crowd and seizes him by the wrist. It’s fantasy material, such a pretty girl seeking him out, wanting to include him in the fun.
“Please, Mike – you’re not scared of dancing, are you?” she asks, echoing Max.
“I was going to come by myself!” Mike insists, flustered. “But I don’t know why you want me to dance, you know firsthand how terrible I am!”
“It doesn’t matter if you’re good, it matters that you try,” El says. She’s playful, reciting one of the phrases he so often uses to encourage her to try new things.
Mike grins, enamoured by what he can only describe as her coolness. There aren’t any monsters for her to tear apart, anymore, but she’s no less of a badass. It just shows in different ways, like her ability to focus on fun over what other people might be thinking. She’ll always be his superhero.
As charmed as he is by her indifference, it never seems to rub off on him. Glancing around the crowd, Mike feels anxious.
“El, I seriously have no idea what I’m doing,” he says quietly.
A strange role reversal, in a way. Mike gets worried nearly as often as El does, and El talks him through his worries all the time, but this conversation about dancing once took place in reverse.
“Don’t think so much about it!” El tells him.
She lifts up their joined hands so she can whirl beneath his arm. She keeps her hold on his hand while she bops around, meets his eyes as she sings along to the song. Mike wonders where she learned the lyrics, how it’s possible that she wants to sing to him, that she wants to dance with him.
The thought emboldens him. Mike has never been good at switching off his anxious mind, but for El, he’ll try. He follows her lead, swaying his shoulders and grinning down at her. It feels more natural the more he touches her, running his hands up her arms, letting them settle on her waist. Almost like they’re slow dancing.
At the end of the song, Max puts a hand on Mike’s elbow. He’s worried about her mocking him, but her smile is warm.
“You’re not too bad, Wheeler!” she exclaims.
Mike squints in shock. “How much have you had to drink?”
Max rolls her eyes. “At least you’re actually dancing.”
She throws a withering look at Luck, which is as peaceful an invitation as he could probably expect after sitting out so many dances. The glare spurs a bustle among the three boys on the sidelines; Dustin and Will thrust Lucas into the crowd with such ebullience that he goes flying, almost tripping over the rug.
Observing her friends, El feels slightly smug. She’s pleased that Mike would ignore his own embarrassment to dance with her.
El stands on her tiptoes and kisses Mike’s cheek. “Thanks for joining in.”
Mike smiles at her tenderly. “Thanks for asking me.”
“Fun?”
“Yeah. Heaps of fun.”
The invitation to the wedding takes Mike by surprise. It has been some time since he last saw Mr Clarke, his favourite teacher from middle school. Though he has never particularly enjoyed attending weddings, he is honoured that Mr Clarke would think to invite him.
“He’s getting married?” El asks, intrigued.
Mike nods. “He started dating his fiancé the same year we met. Isn’t that weird?”
She looks back at the card, at the pretty cursive joining their names above a date.
“I’ve never been to a wedding.”
“I know you haven’t,” Mike says sadly. “I’m sure Mr Clarke would’ve invited you if he ever taught you.”
“I don’t know. I think you were special to him.”
“You would’ve been too, if you were with us.”
“I’m not a great student,” El points out.
“That’s bullshit, you’re an awesome student,” Mike huffs. “I’ll ask Mr Clarke if I can bring a date.”
“Wait,” El says, catching his elbow as he strides towards the phone. “Hop and Joyce are getting married next year. I can wait. Mr Clarke is a nice man, I don’t want to intrude.”
Mike looks amused, leaning over to kiss her forehead. “You’re right, he’s a nice man. He won’t mind.”
On the day of the wedding, El looks like a princess in her ruffled lavender dress, with her hair pinned out of her face and falling down her back. Mike is certain that she’s the most beautiful girl in existence, and he feels proud to walk around this grown-up event while holding her hand. He is annoyed when so many curious gazes follow her; he glares at more than one boy that day.
El is oblivious to the attention. At the reception, she cranes in her chair to catch a glimpse of the happy couple, who have arrived on the scene amidst applause.
“Look at those big cheesy grins!” Dustin exclaims.
“I’ve never seen Mr Clarke looking that happy,” Lucas says.
“She looks beautiful,” El says, smiling softly.
“She does. So do you,” Mike says, squeezing her hand. It’s the umpteenth time he’s complimented her today, but he thinks it bears repeating.
“And you. You’re the most beautiful,” El says, smiling brightly.
Mike shakes his head, amused. Max sighs loudly.
“We get to dance soon, right?” El asks, looking at the empty dance floor.
“Yeah, after the first dance,” Mike explains. “Mr Clarke and Jen have to dance first, it’s a thing. The rest of us join after that.”
At first, El is impatient, but she enjoys the first dance. It is special to see the couple waltzing, gazing at one another with adoration.
“I’m so happy for him,” Mike says.
“I miss him,” Dustin says, looking downright teary. “He really is the best teacher we ever had.”
“Not that he has much competition,” Lucas says. “Mr Matthews has to check half of what he says in the textbook.”
“Our bio teacher is definitely an alcoholic,” Max adds.
“Chem classes are okay, but Davis isn’t that passionate,” Mike says.
“Mr Clarke is definitely passionate,” Will says wryly, as Mr Clarke dips his bride and draws her into a lengthy kiss. Dustin wolf whistles.
When they resurface, Mr Clarke throws out his arms and calls for his guests to join the floor. Hand in hand, El and Mike walk to the edge of the crowd.
Mike likes dancing with El in every way possible, but he thinks slow dancing will always be his favourite. He loves holding her waist while she holds his shoulders, looking in her eyes while they sway gently on the spot.
The music is a very dramatic love song, but Mike thinks it’s appropriate on such a romantic day. These devotions can be real – Mike would know.
Mike expects to feel a sense of finality on the eve of senior prom, but he’s been attending school dances since freshman year, and the routine is well established.
Dustin goes to Steve and Will goes to Jonathan, which leaves Mike and Lucas to get ready together. It works out well, because once they’ve combed their hair and put on their tuxes, they can go to pick up El and Max from the Hopper-Byers house, where they always get ready together.
The mood is consistent, a buzz of excitement and wonder. The cast remains the same, as well; Will with his awkward wave, Jonathan with his camera, Joyce with her happy smile, and Hopper with his exasperated face.
“Jonathan is going to take some photos here, by the mantelpiece, and some in the garden. I’m glad you came early, we’ve still got some daylight…” Joyce is saying, when Max walks in, wearing a silk blue dress.
“Mad Max!” Lucas exclaims, his eyes wide. “You look beautiful!”
“Thanks, Stalker,” Max says, blushing. “You clean up well.”
They’ve been a bit shyer lately, getting older and better at being vulnerable with one another, admitting that what they have is real. Feeling impatient, Mike decides against watching the sweet display, and slips past Dustin and Will in pursuit of El’s bedroom. He turns down the hall just as she is pushing her door open.
Mike notices El’s beauty on every mundane day, and he has never been anything less than awed, seeing her in a new dress for the first time. But somehow, he cannot recall being this struck by her since the Snow Ball.
El wears a pale pink dress of flowing chiffon, with a silk ribbon tied around her waist. Her hair is in an elegant chignon, with stray strands framing her face. Her makeup is rosy and her jewellery is minimal, only a ruby ring on her finger.
“Pretty,” Mike blurts. As he did six years ago, seeing the same girl in a different pink dress. But nostalgia does not justify such an understatement. “Sorry, that’s not enough – ”
“I like pretty,” El says, walking to him with a gracious smile.
Mike can see in her eyes that she is thinking about her first makeover as well. She reaches for his hands and squeezes them.
“You’re the prettiest girl in the world,” Mike says.
“You say that no matter how I look.”
“Yeah, because it’s true no matter how dressed up you are. You’re always beautiful.”
“Thank you,” El whispers. “I think you are, too.”
“Right,” Mike says, rolling his eyes. “So, are you ready for prom?”
“Yes,” El says. “But I’m not sure if I’m ready for it all to be over.”
She slings her arms around his neck and begins rocking him on the spot. Mike follows without question, cupping her silken waist.
“It’s our last prom,” Mike reflects. “It’s kind of a big deal.”
This is their last ever school dance. Their final excuse for dancing, outside of parties and weddings.
“It’s our last prom, and our last year at school, and our last year in Hawkins…” El sighs. “It’s good, we get to start our future soon. But it’s scary too.”
“I know,” Mike assures her. “But it’s okay. We’ll be together the whole time.”
She nods fervently, then pulls him down to kiss him with faint desperation, longer than might be normal for them outside of bedrooms. Mike gives as much comfort as he gets; it’s all coming to an end, but he knows certain things will stay the same.
El pulls away with wet eyes. “When are we going to dance, when we leave school?”
Mike laughs. “I’m sure we’ll come up with some ideas.”
“Promise me?”
“I promise – ”
The moment is interrupted by Max clearing her throat. She stands at the end of the hallway with her arms crossed, Lucas by her side, laughing into his fist.
“Are you done with your ‘promise’ routine?” Max asks, eyebrows raised.
“Nearly!” Mike grumbles.
“Can it wait? We’ve got to take photos!”
“We’re coming, jeez,” El says. As she walks towards her friends, she keeps a tight hold on Mike’s hand, determined to keep him close for the rest of the night – for the rest of her life.
They consider having the ceremony in November, to celebrate their first meeting, but they soon settle on spring. El wants flowers and sunshine for her wedding. Mike goes out of his way to make sure she gets them, determined to give her the ceremony of her dreams.
“I just can’t believe that you’re going for yellow bridesmaids dresses,” Max complains. “I’m the maid of honour, don’t I get some say in this?!”
“Hey, I’m keen to see you in yellow,” Lucas protests.
“I just can’t believe that you’re getting married so young,” Will says. “You’re barely adults. Technically, you’re still teenagers.”
“I’m not surprised by that, at all,” Max snorts. “El has been talking about getting married to Mike since we were thirteen.”
“Yeah, if you remember, I called it,” Lucas says, for what must be the hundredth time that week. When Mike and El announced their engagement, Lucas had been the first to react, jumping on the spot and reminding them of the day in November 1983, when he had mimicked Mike proposing to El.
Anybody paying attention could tell that this was how it would end for them.
The months before the wedding are busy and blissful. There’s a lot to plan, a lot of money to spend, but Joyce and Hopper have slowly adjusted to the idea, and their support makes a big difference. The wedding will be small, less than one hundred people, mostly Mike’s family. They will be wed in the botanical gardens.
El falls asleep some nights on the couch, turning through the pages of her wedding planner, unable to believe how perfectly things are coming together.
“It’s just how I imagined it,” El tells Mike when she gets home from wedding dress shopping. “Not just the dress – the whole thing. The flowers, the invitations, everything. It’s better than I imagined.”
Mike feels a burst of tenderness. “You imagined the invitations?”
El smiles sheepishly. “I used to write them up.”
“I mean, I found the El Wheeler drawings, but I didn’t know about that.”
“That was kind of like getting engaged, when you found my pictures.”
“I did tell you that we would get married, one day,” Mike says, his grin wide. They had been fourteen at the time, and he felt as certain then as he does now.
The day finally arrives, and the sun is on their side. Sunbeams shower the garden as the ceremony starts, as Hopper walks El down the aisle.
Mike knows he will never forget this moment for as long as he lives. He thinks about his flashlight on her face, the three hundred and fifty three days he called out to her, the moment she stepped into the Snow Ball. So much has led to this moment.
After they have made their vows, before they take their photos, they spend what is perhaps a disproportionate amount of time entwined, overwhelmed.
By the time they are preparing for their first dance, they are both fighting tears.
“I don’t want to cry,” Mike says, as he draws El into a waltz.
“I don’t know if I want everyone looking at us,” El says, casting a look around the circle of people, relaxing when she sees the smiling faces of their friends.
“I do,” Mike decides. This is his wedding to El. She is his wife. Her name is now Jane Wheeler, El Wheeler. They’re going to be together forever, and everybody knows it, their friends, their family members, everybody who matters.
“So you said,” El says, beaming at him.
She puts her hands on his shoulders, and he puts his hands on her waist.
Mike and El begin their dance.