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Holly Wheeler is three years old when she comes to know that the world is scarier than it looks.
There are a lot of things going on around her that she doesn’t quite understand. Things like why she’s with mom all the time, which isn’t a bad thing at all, but where does everyone else go? Things like why she always has to place mushy things in her mouth when mom lets her older brother and sister eat other things. Things like how Mike and Nancy always look mad at each other, and why they storm off the table even when they’re not done with their food.
Things like why it looks like there’s a monster in the walls, even when there’s actually nothing at all.
She can hear the low growling of the monster she remembers seeing alone at whatever place her mom brought her to before; hears it loudly in her dreams that she can’t sleep properly and ends up screaming in the darkness. It comes down to mom or dad or sometimes both of them to cuddle her through the night.
These are things she doesn’t understand, and it’s scary.
There is one day where mom and dad aren’t home, but Nancy and Mike and two other people are. Holly recognizes one of them, the boy shorter than Mike, Will. The other boy, who’s taller than both Mike and Nancy, is unfamiliar, and Holly whimpers when she sees him.
“It’s just Steve, Holly! He isn’t a scary man, I promise!” Nancy tries to soothe her, a sandwich in hand in a vain attempt to feed her. Steve is in the corner, trying to hide himself away in the darkness. For a moment, Holly thinks that he was the one who made those scary noises in the walls, so she cries even more.
“Bad! Monster!” Holly whines, pointing at Steve. Nancy scrubs her face in her hands. In the background, Mike is doing his best to stifle his laughter, but it quickly ceases when he glances at Will. The other boy is conveniently behind Steve, and so he looks frozen in place, wide-eyed and a bit terrified.
Holly closes her eyes, which feel so tired from all the crying. “Hey, Holly,” she hears a whisper in her ear. When she peaks one eye open, her brother is there, holding a white teddy bear to cover his face. “Hey, Holly!” Mike repeats, this time using a deeper voice. “I’m Mr. Snow Bear, and I’m no monster!” He’s moving the arms of the stuffed toy, and from behind, Holly can see him making funny faces. “I want to play with you, do you want to play with me?”
She giggles, making grabby hands at the bear. Mike lets her get a hold of it, smiles brightly at her for not crying, and ruffles her head. “Guess Holly likes me better,” he says smugly to Nancy, who’s rolling her eyes and dragging Steve-the-scary-man upstairs.
Mike surprisingly brings Holly to the basement, a place in their house she’s not quite familiar with. He holds her as he feeds her while she plays with the teddy bear. After that, Will, who looks less scared than from a while ago, allows her to use his art materials. The three of them spend the rest of the evening surrounded by papers and crayons, filling up the white spaces with so many colors that Holly’s never seen before. The dim basement lights are so cozy and comforting, just like her own bedroom.
Holly doesn’t even realize when she falls asleep, but she wakes up screaming. In an instant, Mike is by her side, cradling and shushing her. She sees Nancy and Steve go down to the basement in alarm, only to be shooed away by Mike. “I can handle this,” he whispers loudly. “You’re safe, Holly. It’s okay.” He brings her to a blanket fort from the other side of the room, then he hugs her, and doesn’t let go. Mike is as warm as mom, and so Holly snuggles up to him as close as possible, focusing on his hand rubbing her back in comfort.
She doesn’t know when she falls asleep again, but she also doesn’t know what time it is when she wakes up again, this time to screaming that isn’t coming from her. No, it’s coming from Will. Holly realizes that she feels cold, that Mike has left her side momentarily to come to Will’s aid, shaking him and hugging him tightly as the other boy sobs.
Eventually the crying subsides, and Holly crawls up to Mike and Will, stuffed toys in tow. Maybe he heard the monsters growl, too, she thinks, as she lets go of the toys and holds out one hand to each of the boys. Mike smiles, understanding what she’s trying to do.
“Holly wants to snuggle,” Mike tells Will. “It helps her with her nightmares. Maybe it’ll help you with yours, too.” Holly sees her brother’s best friend’s cheeks turn faint pink, but eventually he accepts her hand. She tugs them back to the blanket fort where she was sleeping.
The three of them reposition themselves to lie on the floor, arms wrapped around arms, and Holly sandwiched between them. She cups Will’s face in her hands momentarily. “Not scary,” she mumbles, poking the dimple that appears on his face before turning around and facing her brother again.
There are many things Holly has yet to understand about the world. But there is one thing she thinks she knows now, as she presses her cheek to the crook of her brother’s neck and feels the huff of Will’s breath from the back of her neck. The world is less scary when you’re not alone.
At four years old, Holly begins to learn more about the behavior of the people around her.
It’s been almost a year since she saw the monster in the walls, and her nightmares about that eventually subsided. The world, for the most part, moves on. Mom still brings her everywhere she goes. She still has her snuggles with everyone in the family (Mike and Nancy included), even sometimes alone with dad when he’s home in the afternoons. Everything feels okay.
But Holly knows better.
She hears Nancy crying at night, the occasional “Barb!” “Jonathan!” “Steve!” coming from her throat. Mom told her that Nancy had lost her best friend the way Holly lost her first tooth, painful and by surprise. At first, Holly doesn’t quite understand the analogy, because the doctor and dad told her that the tooth would return eventually, so why is Nancy so upset? She just needs to wait patiently, and Barb will come back, right?
It’s Mike who tells her the truth, as terrifying as it is.
“She’s dead, Holly,” he tells her grumpily. “Dead means that you’re not breathing. Dead means you’re gone forever.”
Mom gets upset at Mike for telling her. Holly’s noticed that mom has been upset with Mike a lot lately. She sees her older brother having a lot of his toys taken away from him and getting grounded almost every other month.
Holly’s also seen a change in Mike, too. She sees him holding his Walkie Talkie in disappointment every other day, sees how he’s been picking fights with Nancy more often than usual. She pictures a dark gray cloud above his head like the pictures she sees in her story books.
The only times Holly sees Mike look relatively happy are during the rare occasions she snuggles with him, and when Will is over at their house. Which, she observes, happens more often than usual.
Holly thinks that she likes Will the best from all his friends. Lucas and Dustin are kind, but there’s something about Will that makes Holly feel happier. Maybe it’s because he lets her borrow whatever toys or crayons he’s brought to their house. Maybe it’s because he absent-mindedly plays with her hair when she’s close to him, and it feels nice.
Maybe it’s because Mike smiles the most when Will is around.
There’s a change in Will, too, that Holly’s noticed. Because while he was still nice to her and acted in the same polite manner to the family, she’s seen how he visibly slumps when he thinks no one’s looking. She’s noticed the darkened eye bags under more-dead eyes, how more ghostly he appears against bright white lights. She thinks she should be scared of him because of it, but she wasn’t.
Will was still Will, her brother’s best friend.
Holly passes by them on the night of Halloween. She was dressed like a princess and mom was a queen, with matching tiaras on their heads and pretty, poofy dresses. They were busy giving out candy to trick-or-treaters, until Mike came home with Will in tow, barely greeting them and heading towards the basement. Holly feels like there’s something wrong, and so as soon as all the candy is given away, she pads down to the basement, stopping just in time to see them hugging.
That’s another thing Holly’s noticed. Mike hugs Will longer than he hugs anyone else. Holly included. There’s something about the way Will hides in the crook of her brother’s neck, the way she does when she needs comfort. And there’s something so gentle about the way Mike holds him close, resembling how he holds her.
“Mike?” She interrupts them, because she’s scared that something’s wrong. They turn around, surprised to see her standing there.
“Holly!” Mike grumbles. “What are you doing here?” Will nudges him, and Mike visibly softens.
“Do you want some of our candy?” Will asks as he gestures to all the fallen candy on the basement floor.
Holly smiles toothily, running to sit in between them, her poofy dress taking up most of the space on the couch. She picks between the M&Ms and Reese’s Pieces, and the three of them eat together, Mike’s hushed promise of not telling their parents on his lips. She watches as Mike and Will try to toss the candy in each others’ mouths and laughs at every failed attempt. She matches Mike’s level of sadness when Will’s brother picks them up.
It’s one of the best nights Holly’s had with her older brother, and she had hoped it would continue.
But then the next day comes and Mike doesn’t even return home from school. Neither does Nancy. Holly’s left to stay with her parents, which isn’t a bad thing because she loves mom and dad, but she can tell something is wrong. She feels the utter wrongness in the silence that washes over them at the dinner table, her loud chewing and mom’s cooing the only thing that’s heard.
It’s only after two more days of being lonely at home that both her siblings return. Mom is fussing over them, and Holly all but runs to them and hugs their legs tightly. Where have you been? Why didn’t you take me? are the questions she ponders in her head. Can I come next time?
She notices more changes after that. Her older sister is sparkling, like the fairy princesses she reads in her stories, especially since Will’s brother started coming over more often (Holly admits that Jonathan scares her more than Steve ever did, but he makes Nancy happy, so she stops trying to shy away from him). Mike is visibly happier too, especially since Will started looking better, more handsome, even.
The night of Mike’s Snow Ball, he dances with Holly in the living room while mom and Nancy take pictures (he warns all of them to never speak of him dancing in his usual whiny tone). He looks like Prince Charming and she tells him as much (he’s as red as a tomato afterwards, but he’s smiling brightly). Will and Jonathan come over to pick them up, and Holly’s never been more excited for her siblings.
She hopes Mike and Will dance together. She feels like the mice Jacques and Gus from Cinderella, bouncing up and down and twirling around as they wait for their princess to come home from the ball.
Mike comes home past her bedtime, cheeks flushed and eyes bright, and Holly’s never felt cheerier for her brother. She goes to sleep that night, thinking of slow dances and magic, and how she hopes that someday, she'd have someone who would make her smile the way Will makes Mike smile.
She wishes—no, she knows she’d find the Will to her Mike one day.
Life gets more confusing as you grow older. That’s what Holly comes to understand around the time she turns five years old.
There’s many things going on within her family. First, mom has been dropping her off at summer daycare way more often. Not that Holly doesn’t like playing with kids her age, she does. But what happened to the mom that took her everywhere she goes? And why does she talk to dad even less nowadays? Holly misses her mom even though she’s just there.
(The upside of that is that Holly’s spending more time with dad, which is surprisingly not that bad. Dad lets her eat more sweets than what mom would normally allow, and spoils her with new toys.)
Second, Nancy was also too busy now, with her new job and new boyfriend. Holly admires how pretty her sister still looked despite seemingly never having time anymore for their makeovers.
And then there was Mike.
She feels disappointed upon learning that her brother did not in fact dance with Will during the Snow Ball, but with his new girlfriend, Jane. There’s a polaroid picture of Mike and Jane that sits in the basement, and Holly doesn’t know why, but it feels out of place. Nonetheless, she knows Jane makes Mike happy, and Holly loves anyone who makes her brother happy.
The thing that confuses her is why Mike and Will begin to drift apart. Especially in the summer. For all the time Holly’s spent on this planet, she’s always seen Will at her house everyday for three months every year. Now though, Will comes by maybe three times a week at most.
If Mike is not with Will or even the rest of his friends (which, for reasons that are unexplained, is more often now), he’s out to visit Jane in her house. If he’s at home with no visitors, he’s on the phone or the Walkie Talkie, talking to Jane. Holly’s always hearing about El (Jane’s nickname) from his mouth, even during meals.
Holly misses the Mike he was before he became Jane’s boyfriend. She misses her brother who was with Will.
If that’s how growing up is like, then I don’t want it, she pouts in her seat.
She goes to the Fourth of July celebration at the funfair with both her parents. She’s wondering where her older siblings are, because she wanted them to win her toys at the games like they did last year. She wanted to eat cotton candy with Mike and laugh at Nancy when she inevitably throws up after going on the merry-go-round. Nonetheless, mom lets her go on all the rides she’s allowed to go on, and dad wins her three measly keychains from the water balloon game, so she’s happy.
The Ferris wheel makes her feel like she’s at the top of the world, and Holly marvels over how everything looked like ants below her feet. But then she notices the trees moving too much as if there was a hurricane, which is odd because the wind can’t even blow her ponytails away. She tries to tell mom about it, but in return she’s told to look at the fireworks instead.
It’s a welcome distraction. Holly doesn’t like loud noises, per say, but the colors are so bright and magical and mesmerizing that she focuses on nothing else instead.
The summer eventually comes to an end, and there are more changes in Holly’s life. For one thing, she started kindergarten, which wasn’t all that bad. Her teacher and classmates are nice, and the lessons are fun . But one thing that confuses her is why the girls in her class scrunch their noses at the Millenium Falcon toy she stole from Mike’s bedroom, telling her to stick to playing with her Barbie dolls. “Why can’t I play with both?” she whines. It comes to a point where Holly tugs angrily at her classmate Patricia’s hair when she keeps complaining about her toys. Her teacher calls up mom, which frustrates Holly even further, because why did she have to do that?
Mom is disappointed with Holly, but doesn’t really punish her. After hearing the story at the dinner table, both Mike and Nancy smile happily at her, so Holly takes it as a good sign. Mike gives her a high-five as he passes the dishes afterward. “Good job, Holls!” he whispers in her ear as he ruffles her hair before heading upstairs.
It makes Holly happy, because it was the first time in a long time her brother talked to her. It was the first time in a long time Mike smiled at her, even.
That was yet another change in Holly’s life. Mike was more quiet and distant ever since Will and Jane moved away, for reasons Holly couldn’t quite understand. What was wrong with Hawkins? She wonders to herself. Why move away when everyone is right here?
(Mike spent the rest of summer after the funfair in the basement, refusing to talk to anyone, instead playing with his Nintendo and watching the same movies. Holly notices him barely eating at the dinner table, notices him hovering over the phone as if waiting for someone to call.
“He’s sad, mama,” Holly remembers telling mom one night when she’s tucked into bed. It makes her sadder when mom sighs, like she knew exactly who Holly was referring to.
“I know, sweetheart,” was all that mom replied as she kissed her forehead. Holly knows mom’s tried talking to him, too, with little to no success.)
The days go by. Holly continues attending kindergarten and quickly becomes Patricia’s enemy (not that it was a bad thing, more of their classmates preferred spending time with Holly rather than Patricia). Mom helps her with homework and dad rewards her good grades with that new Lite Brite, which reminds her of the huge box of crayons Will used to bring over. She watches cartoons and movies with Nancy and even Mike, who’s begun to come out of hiding more often. For a while, Holly’s happy with the routine. It makes everything less confusing.
A snowy night in December is when she’s caught off guard.
It’s when she and Mike were watching Back To The Future in the basement alone, because Nancy was busy with something for school. Holly was settled beside her brother, sharing a bowl of buttery popcorn. She couldn’t quite understand what the movie was about, but the old scientist man looked and talked funny, so she didn’t really mind.
Halfway through the movie, her brother suddenly bursts into tears.
“Mike?” Holly asks softly, feeling tears well up in her own eyes. It was so rare to see Mike that way, much less in front of her. The only other time she remembers seeing him cry was when he arrived home late that one night, and mom took him into her arms. She tugs on his arm, and he initially pulls away. She watches him instead of the movie playing, the TV light illuminating his red face.
“I-I’m sorry, Holls,” Mike says after a few minutes. “I just…I remembered watching this with Will and I miss him so much and I don’t…I don’t know why I can’t talk to him properly when everyone else does…and with El it’s so easy but I don’t miss her like I miss Will…and he’s not reaching out to me either and I think…I think he hates me… and mom won’t even let me see him…no, see them over Christmas…” he covers his face with his hands.
This is the most Holly’s heard from her brother in months. She doesn’t quite understand most of his rambling, nor does she understand why he’s even saying this to her, but something deep inside of her aches for his brother.
There are two things she knows. The first, that he misses Will. The second, that he’s hurting.
And if Mike is hurt, so is Holly.
She scoots closer to him until she’s in his lap, and then she gives him the biggest hug she could muster. It’s clear that Mike is startled by the action, but eventually he loosens up and hugs her back tightly. Holly feels the tears on her head as if they were raindrops, so she looks up at him and wipes his tears with her buttery fingers.
“I miss Will, too,” she whispers to him. Mike is wide-eyed, as if only realizing he’s slipped up, but then Holly just stares back at him. “But Will wouldn’t want you to cry. So please don’t cry, Mike.”
Her brother’s lips wobble as Holly continues wiping his face, although no more tears leak out. She doesn’t say anything else, but traces over his face from his eyebrows to his freckles to his nose, just like mom did to get her to fall asleep. “You look like Rudolph,” she giggles as she pinches his nose.
Despite the obvious strain, Mike laughs. “Don’t be mean, Holly.” He brushes his fingers on the sides of her torso in retaliation, knowing full well it would tickle. Holly squeals, pinching his face again, and suddenly they’re in a play-fight on the couch. It happens for the next two minutes or so until Mike surrenders, laying on his back.
“Okay, okay, you win!” He cries as Holly continues to pinch him like a little crab. His face is blotchy, but his smile is wide as he looks up at her. Satisfied, Holly moves away until she’s sitting on a cushion again. It’s quiet as Mike rearranges himself to sit up properly, the smile dimming once more as he looks at the dim shadows of the artworks on the wall. Holly knows they belong to Will, because they look far better than what anyone else could draw.
“I want Will here,” Holly sighs as she holds Mike’s hand. “I know he takes your pain away.”
Mike squeezes back, and though he’s not crying, his voice sounds bittersweet. “Me too, Holls. Me, too.”
There are a lot of things that confuse Holly. But one thing she’s sure of is that Mike needs Will back. So after the movie, she pads up to her room and brings out her matching glittery pen and paper, writing down a wish list for Santa.
One of her wishes? That Will comes back, so Mike can be happy again.
(It’s the second wish on her list, though. She wishes first for that cool car she saw in Back To The Future, the one that flies, so she can feel on top of the world again.)
It’s when Holly turns six years old that she begins to learn how unkind the world can be.
The world is scary and confusing, but Holly has her family to help her see the good. She knows she’s been living a nice life, unlike other people.
Unlike Mike’s friend Max, whose smile is the same as her brother’s: trying so hard to look happy, but glaringly obvious that it’s miserable. It’s why she lent her the crayons willingly, because colors made her happy and so she thinks it would make the redheaded girl happy, too.
Unlike the people who “d-i-e-d” (as her mom likes to spell out, as if Holly doesn’t know what that spells out and what the word means) recently, as young as they are. She doesn’t know what caused them to die, but she does know that they did not deserve death at all.
Unlike Mike, who Holly understands now doesn’t get the same treatment that she does. No, she’s seen the way mom and dad talk to him, how mean they sometimes get. She sees the way his face falls when dad calls him a “drop out” and a “deadbeat.” She doesn’t know what those mean, but it’s probably bad.
The world is scary and confusing and unkind, and Holly thinks that because of that fact, many things have to happen, like a punishment. An earthquake happens, and Holly’s never been more terrified in her life. She screams herself hoarse while mom circles her arms around her in protection.
Then Mike returns with Will (and Jane, but Holly favors Will more), and Holly’s glad. The world is scary and confusing and unkind, but Mike is there, smiling with his best friend as he hugs mom tightly. Will and the rest of his family stay at their house while the town deals with the aftermath of the earthquake, and Holly thinks that things should get better now that Will returned.
But it doesn’t.
Holly sees how Will avoids Mike whenever he can, opting to spend his time in the basement while Mike stays cooped up in his room. She notices how her brother hovers over the stairs that lead to the basement, as if deciding if he should go there or not. He has the same expression on his face from the past six months or so, and Holly hates it.
“Can we go play with Will today?” She tries to ask every so often, but Mike shuts every attempt down. “Maybe not now, Holly. He’s tired.” “I wanna sleep, Holls.” “No.” She even tries to go to Will himself once or twice, but he gives her similar answers.
It’s a random Friday afternoon when things get worse.
The “snow” continues to fall just as it has for the past few days, but this time, the sky is too dark from the clouds. The weatherman on the TV claims that there is a possible thunderstorm coming. Holly’s glad that school has been canceled, because she doesn’t want to be in class when the weather makes her sleepy.
She’s eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the kitchen when she sees her older brother walking to the garage. “Mike?” She calls out, but he doesn’t hear her. Where is he going? It’s gonna rain, he can’t leave, he’s gonna get sick!
Holly runs after Mike and feels the crumbs of the sandwich on her lips. She sees Mike almost leave. “Mike! Don’t go, it will rain!” He’s not listening, and it frustrates her, so she blocks him.
What she sees before her is something that will no doubt haunt her dreams for the next few weeks, the same way she remembers a monster in her walls at three years old.
Her brother’s eyes are cloudy white, resembling one of those undead people she’s seen in movie posters. “MIKE!” She yells, shaking him. Why isn’t he responding? “Can you hear me, Mike? It’s…it’s Holly!” He doesn’t give a response, and Holly feels her cheeks get wet. She screams over and over for him, clutching his hands tightly, too afraid to let go.
The rest of the moment passes by her in a blur, but she can remember some details. Like how Nancy and mom forcibly pulled her away, mom hugging onto her tightly while they both sob in fear. Like how her sister’s face was streaked with dark tears from her mascara as she put headphones on Mike’s ears. Like how Will was immediately there, front and center, gripping onto his shoulders, screaming Mike’s name hoarse, holding his legs when Mike was lifted into the air.
It takes forever for Mike to come back to earth, landing on top of Will as he does so. Holly notices the lights in the garage flicker, and a part of her believes it’s weird, but she chooses to ignore it in favor of holding onto her brother tightly, slightly pushing Will away.
“Mike,” she whispers into his neck as she clings onto him like a koala. He lets her and hugs her back hard. Mom doesn’t try and pry them apart.
He carries her up to his room and asks everyone else to leave him alone. Holly isn’t sure why he’d do that, because something scary happened and she learned from Mike himself that scary things are better faced when you’re not alone. But he isn’t pushing her away, and she wants to stay with him, so there’s that.
It’s silent in his room. They’re laying side by side on his bed, and Holly traces his face again. “Holly…” he looks at her, eyes glistening. “I-I’m sorry for scaring you. Y-you shouldn’t have seen that.” Holly says nothing and instead tries to stretch his lips into a smile.
It’s a few moments of silence before Holly speaks. “Why don’t you and Will talk anymore?” It’s obvious she takes her brother by surprise, with the way he stiffens.
“We do talk, Holls. I-It’s just hard, because I’ve hurt him a lot,” Mike sniffs.
“But he hurt you, too,” Holly says, reminding herself of all the times she’s seen Mike be sad over him. Mike shrugs and looks down on his big hands. “So do you hate him now?”
That grabs her brother’s attention, because he looks up at her in alarm. “No way! I could…I could never hate Will.”
“So you like him?”
Mike looks at her in a curious way. He tilts his head as he considers her, and Holly can tell he’s scared by the way he bites his lip. “I like him,” he confirms. “I like him a lot.” There’s something in the air with that admission that Holly can’t quite place, but she figures it doesn’t matter.
“Talk to him, Mike,” Holly pleads. “I want you to be happy. And Will makes you the happiest.”
Mike raises an eyebrow at her. “How do you know he makes me the happiest?”
She doesn’t even hesitate. “Because you’re Mike and he’s Will.” It’s a plain, simple, and maybe confusing answer, but the way Mike smiles slightly tells Holly that he gets it. That what she said was, for some reason, exactly what he needed to hear.
“Thank you, Holly,” he whispers. “For believing in us."
And for the time being, that reassurance was enough. For both of them.
There are many things you learn as a child. At seven years old, Holly thinks she’s learned many lessons, like how the world is scary, confusing, and unkind, and it can be cruel to people who may not deserve it. Like how there are actually so many more lessons you have to learn as you grow older. Like how love makes you go crazy, how powerful it is.
You’d think she learned that last bit from the Disney movies she’s watched and the fairy tales she’s read. But no. She learned love from Mike and Will.
She’s grown up with them. She’s seen the way they look at each other—the same way Prince Charming looks at Cinderella. She knows how strong their connection is by how deeply they’re affected by one another’s actions. Holly learns that love is like how Mike and Will are: strong, dependable, and the greatest source of happiness that can be.
It’s been a long year since she saw her older brother float in the air for a few moments; the event that she still considers the scariest moment of her life. It’s also been one long year of knowing that Mike and Will were…together. Like how Nancy was together with Jonathan. They’re keeping it a secret, though, and Holly doesn’t really get why, but like many times before, she decides it doesn’t matter. She’ll figure everything out eventually.
“I’m off to see Will today!” Mike chirps one Saturday evening in the living room while Holly and mom are watching TV. “Bye, mom! Bye, Holly!” He kisses mom’s forehead and ruffles Holly’s head on the way out.
“One day that boy is going to be sick of Will,” mom jokes. “I wonder why they keep seeing each other more often…more often than before.”
There are many things Holly Wheeler knows. She knows that the world is scary, confusing, and unkind. She knows that Mike and Nancy have fought monsters from other dimensions; monsters that resemble the creatures Holly’s seen in Mike’s D&D manual.
She knows that the reason why Mike keeps seeing Will is because he loves him. That Will Byers, her older brother’s best friend, is in love with her brother. That they love each other, so, so much.
There are many things Holly Wheeler knows, and there are many things she wants to say out loud, too. But sometimes, knowing too much may not always be the best thing.
“All I know is that Mike is happier now,” she says with a toothy smile, and it’s just enough for mom to know.
All I know is that one day, I’ll find someone who’s gonna be the Will to my Mike. Someone who makes the world less scary, less confusing, and a little more kind, everyday.