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Friday. After the D&D session.
"Nancy isn't going to California with you?"
"No, she's too busy with, like, college stuff. Anyway, Dustin- are you going to take the ticket or not?" Mike stands there impatiently, holding a plane ticket.
"Well, what about Lucas?” Dustin asks. “And Max?"
"I already asked both of them. Lucas doesn't want to go unless Max comes too, and Max said her mom won't let her. So."
Dustin thinks about seeing Will and El and smiles to himself. "Okay," he accepts. Mike slaps the ticket into Dustin's open palm.
Saturday morning. On the plane.
"I still can't believe you're wearing that," Dustin groans. The plane has just landed and they're waiting to claim their luggage from the overhead compartments.
“We're in California," Mike states, "Max said everyone wears flip flops in California."
"You look terrible in yellow."
"El likes yellow." Mike stands up, ready to exit the plane.
"That doesn't mean you have to wear it for her," Dustin rolls his eyes and follows Mike down the aisle. "You already have a bouquet of flowers for her. El and Will are both going to laugh at you."
"Whatever," Mike lowers his sunglasses over his eyes, puts his visor on, and grabs his luggage. Dustin follows him off the plane and they emerge into the receiving area, where Will, El, Jonathan, and Jonathan's friend are all waiting expectantly.
El waves, grinning with excitement. Her hair has gotten long. Dustin notices her pink lip gloss and wonders if it's flavored, like the kind Suzie wears. Before he can linger on the thought, El runs up to give Mike a kiss.
Dustin makes a bee line for Will and gives him a hug. "It's so good to see you," Will enthuses.
"You too," Dustin grins. Then to the elder Byers brother, "Hi, Jonathan. Sorry that Nancy couldn't be here," he says sheepishly.
Jonathan shrugs. "Not your fault. Glad to see you, Dustin."
Dustin steps aside to let Mike greet Will.
"Hey, how you doing?" Mike stands there awkwardly. "What's that?" he asks, gesturing to the paper tube that Dustin now notices that Will is holding.
"Oh, it's-" Will glances down at it and then back up, smile fading. "Nothing, just a painting I've been working on."
"Ooh, can we see it?" Dustin asks.
"Uh..." Will glances at Mike. "Maybe later."
Dustin looks at El for an explanation, but her gaze is fixed unhappily on her flowers. Jonathan and Will look at each other silently. After an awkward interaction between Mike and Argyle, the group starts walking to leave the airport.
El suggests burritos for breakfast, and Dustin could kiss her for that brilliant idea.
After breakfast, Jonathan and Argyle drop them off at Rink-O-Mania.
Saturday afternoon at Rink-O-Mania.
After they get their skates from the rental counter, the kids sit down to switch out their shoes. Dustin remembers that Mike doesn’t have socks on; he smacks Mike’s arm to stop him from putting his bare feet in rental skates.
“Oh, I forgot- you need socks-” El says, just before Will interrupts- “They sell them at the counter.”
Mike gets up and walks back to the counter, leaving the other three sitting there.
“I told him not to wear the flip flops,” Dustin sighs melodramatically. He looks to El and Will, hoping to see them laugh. To Dustin’s disappointment, Will seems to be rolling his eyes, while El is looking down at her skates as she ties the laces.
“He never listens,” Dustin adds flatly.
Mike returns with “vomit green” socks- Dustin can’t help but laugh: At least Mike is in a good mood now.
After they take their shoes back to the counter, the kids make their way into the rink— Mike and Dustin balancing on their skates a little more precariously than the wonder twins, who have been skating semi-regularly since Christmas.
Once they’re on the other side of the wall that separates the rink from the concessions, Mike and El hold hands as they skate ahead. Dustin silently contemplates how he and Will have both been snubbed. Dustin thought that Mike and El would’ve grown out of this behavior by now.
Not just the incident last summer, but the incident at the airport this morning hasn’t left Dustin’s mind. After a few moments of silence, he finally asks Will, “So what’s up with you and Mike?”
Will takes a moment to respond, and when he does, he is characteristically quiet. “I don’t know.”
Dustin thinks about how Lucas and Max aren’t here. He thinks about how Lucas is on the basketball team and how Max is barely even around. “He missed you,” Dustin says matter-of-factly, before adding more nostalgically, “We’ve all really missed you. You know that, right?”
Will responds with a nod. “...Thank you, Dustin. I’ve missed you guys, too.”
Will and Dustin become painfully aware that everyone around them is skating past them. “Do you want to, like, get cotton candy or something?” Dustin asks.
Will shrugs. “Sure, why not?”
The boys skate off the rink into the area with booths and concessions. They buy drinks and multi-colored cotton candy to share, and sit down at a booth.
A few minutes later, Mike and El skate up to the wall. “How’s the cotton candy?” El asks.
“Honestly,” Dustin says with a tilt of his head, “not that good. I think it’s stale.”
El giggles, then turns to Mike, “Do you want a milkshake?”
“Sure, I could have a milkshake.”
So El and Mike join Will and Dustin at their booth. Dustin is glad that he could come to Lenora with Mike; he’s imagining the scenario where he isn’t here, where it’s just Will third-wheeling Mike and El. Dustin shudders to think about how boring that would have been for Will.
Dustin silently observes Mike and El sitting across from him, trying each others’ milkshakes; Mike claims that his is way better. Dustin hasn’t had a milkshake in months.
“Here, can I try?” Dustin asks, passing the cotton candy back to Will.
“Sure,” Mike says, handing his shake across the table to Dustin.
Dustin takes a sip. “Mint chocolate chip? Not bad,” he hums, then offers the shake to Will for him to try. “What about yours, El?”
El hands her cup to Dustin, who finds himself suddenly aware that sipping from the same straw is like an indirect kiss. He takes a sip. “Chocolate,” he smiles. “Good choice.”
El tilts her head at Mike. “See? Mine is better.”
Will hands the remaining cotton candy to Dustin so that he can try the chocolate shake too, and he nods in agreement as he hands it back to El.
Dustin is finishing the cotton candy when suddenly, from behind him, he hears a voice ask: “Where, oh where, have you been hiding this handsome thing?”
Startled, El looks up. “Uh, Angela,” she blinks. “This is my friend, Dustin, and Mike, my boyfriend.”
Angela, a blonde girl with nice legs, stands over their table like she owns the place. She barely acknowledges Dustin. Standing behind her are another girl- with equally nice legs- and two guys, one of whom has sunglasses perched on top of his head.
“Heard a lot about you,” Mike says, “It’s really cool to finally meet some of Jane’s friends.”
Angela’s overly-cheerful response gives Dustin the impression that she isn’t really El’s friend. Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. Dustin glances at Will, whose uneasy look is enough to confirm his suspicion. Before Dustin can say anything, though, Angela grabs El's hand to lead her away from the booth, and the guy with the sunglasses grabs El’s milkshake, following the girls onto the rink.
Will stands up and watches them go, his breathing unsteady.
"Those aren’t El's friends, are they," Dustin asks, slowly standing up.
"What?" Mike scoffs.
"They’re not," Will breathes, looking with wide eyes at where El stands in the rink. He glances at Dustin, then at Mike. "El hasn't been telling you everything."
Mike pushes himself out of the booth and stands at full attention. "What are you talking about?"
"She's lying to you, Mike. She's been lying right to your face this whole time…"
Dustin ignores them. He needs to get to El, who’s standing bewildered in the middle of the rink. The music changes and Dustin sees just how many people are in on this scheme. He isn’t sure how to put a stop to it, but he sees the guy in the orange shirt with his stupid sunglasses. Dustin glares at the milkshake- El’s milkshake- in this guy’s hand. It doesn’t take much to put two and two together: no food or drinks on the rink.
Dustin skates toward the guy who stole El’s milkshake. He isn’t sure yet whether to take it for El to finish, or to dump it on the guy’s head. The lights dance across the floor, and Dustin squints as the spotlight shifts onto him. For all the time he’s spent in Drama Club, the literal spotlight has never been on him. He notices that one of the bullies is filming, and- in a fit of boldness- turns to face the camera, prepared to recite something witty.
Unfortunately, before he can say anything, Dustin trips. In that same moment, the guy in the orange shirt decides it’s time to throw the milkshake.
Dustin lands on his stomach and, after the initial pain of falling, feels dampness on the seat of his pants. Son of a bitch. Of course the chocolate milkshake lands there, of all places. The thump beside him jolts him out of self-pity; he twists his body to see El flat on her back.
Dustin winces; he hasn’t seen El look this miserable since she found Barbara Holland’s corpse in the Upside Down. He sits up and grimaces at the feeling of cold wetness. He hopes that Mrs. Byers can get this stain out.
El props herself up on her elbows but doesn’t make it far before Angela skates over and says something antagonizing.
Dustin wants to stand up and shove this bully to the floor, but standing up would be nearly impossible for him without the risk of falling again, so Dustin starts to pull off his skates. El, on the other hand, has more practice. She gets up and skates away crying.
Dustin, in his best socks, carries his skates to the edge of the rink. He joins Mike and Will, who look just as upset as Dustin feels.
Dustin suddenly becomes aware that the music stopped. “All you guys could do was turn off the music?” He huffs and rolls his eyes. “Sorry- just.” Dustin sighs. “Did you see where El went?”
“No, we didn’t.” Mike says icily, and continues to Will, “You should’ve told me she was having trouble.”
Will blinks. “Well, I didn’t know they were gonna be here, Mike.”
“Yeah, but you knew that she was having trouble for like a year and you didn’t tell me.”
“I didn’t know that she was lying to you.”
“Hey-” Dustin interjects, as Mike responds, “Maybe she was embarrassed- of all people, we know what it’s like to be bullied. But if you had called me-”
"Woah," Dustin puts a hand up. "Calm down, both of you. Seriously? I look like I shit myself, El is crying alone somewhere, and,” he sighs before deadpanning, “you two are upset about not calling each other." He rolls his eyes. “I’m gonna go find El.”
As it turns out, Dustin can’t find El.
Damn it, Dustin thinks to himself, how hard is it to find a girl wearing a flannel shirt under a multicolored dress? He wonders if maybe she went outside, so he peeks out the door for a minute. Not outside. Okay.
He doesn’t think she would be in the bathroom, because that’s where girls seem to flock in large groups. El probably wants to be alone right now. Dustin is almost certain that she locked herself in a supply room, and he notices a door marked “EMPLOYEES ONLY”.
He approaches and knocks softly at the door. “...El?” At the response of silence, he tries the knob, and the door- to Dustin’s surprise- creaks on its hinges as he pushes it open. “El?”
She’s curled up under a table when she looks up at him sadly.
“Hey,” Dustin murmurs softly, closing the door behind him. He kneels beside her, cringing at the dampness of his pants. El doesn’t speak, and he remembers back to when they first met and he thought she was deaf and mute. Now he knows it’s a trauma response.
“I’m pretty sure they were all laughing at me for the stain on my pants, so don’t worry about being embarrassed.”
It’s dark in the room, but Dustin thinks she’s blinking away tears. Man, he hates to see her so upset. Clearly this bullying has been going on for months.
“How,” Dustin stammers, “how long has she been treating you like this?” When El just frowns, he asks, “Does Mrs. Byers know about it?”
El shakes her head no.
“Mike wishes you had told him,” Dustin says. “I get why you didn’t though. But-” he shifts his weight a little- “we’ve all been bullied, El. You’ve seen it. Hell,” he scoffs, “you’ve protected us from it.”
“But I don’t have my powers!” she wails. “I can’t fight back. Not anymore,” she whispers tearfully.
It’s Dustin’s turn to sit in silence. He didn’t realize that’s how she feels. Of course, Dustin thinks, since she doesn’t have her powers anymore. Of course she feels helpless. Dustin doesn’t know any differently- this is just his life. But El? El has always been able to spy on people, make things fly, break bones, even kill people- all with just her mind. Now she can’t. Dustin can only imagine how powerless she must feel.
“I think you can fight back, just- by being yourself, even when people like Angela hate you.” Dustin tells her. “You don’t need your powers, El. They don’t define you.”
El looks at him. Then she tilts her head in thought. “I... don’t need my powers,” El says in realization. “I could use something else,” she continues, eyes shining a little brighter.
“You, could use something else, yes, or you could- you know, you could-”
El is standing up now, confidently wiping the tears from her eyes. Dustin stands up with her, and she turns to him. “Thank you, Dustin. You are a big help.”
“Yeah-” his voice cracks, realizing that he’s powerless to stop her from whatever punishment she’s about to inflict on her bully. “Yeah, no problem, El.”
Dustin holds the door open for her and closes it behind him. He looks around to find the guys. Mike and Will are sitting at a table; they’re leaned in toward each other as if deep in conversation. Dustin wonders if they even care about what’s going on with El.
He turns back to El and… and El is charging toward Angela. Shit.
He’s at odds between whether he should stop her or let her take revenge, but before he can decide, El’s already done what she intended to do.
With a roller skate in hand, El stands over the fallen figure of her former bully.
Honestly, Dustin's initial reaction is awe and admiration. El is a force to reckon with, even without superpowers. Dustin watches the blood drip down Angela's face and the gravity of the situation hits him: El is going to get into a lot of trouble. Justified or not, legally it's still physical assault.
Dustin rushes up to El and instinctively takes her hand. She looks at him, her tear-stained cheeks glowing under the fluorescent lights. She is just incredible, he thinks to himself.
She drops the roller skate and collapses into Dustin’s arms.
After the paramedics have arrived for Angela, Jonathan and Argyle pick up Will, Mike, El, and Dustin from the roller rink. Dustin furrows his brow as he attempts to identify the odor permeating the Surfer Boy Pizza van; it reminds him a little bit of Eddie.
Back at the Byers’ house, Murray “Bald Eagle” Bauman is there, for some reason.
Dustin changes into clean clothes, and when he goes out to the dining room, El is wearing a shirt that used to be Mike's.
There's hardly enough room at the dining room table, and it feels like there would be if Murray weren't there. But Dustin can't help but feel grateful for his presence, since he did in fact make the risotto.
"She didn't look fine," Mike snarks.
Dustin glares. "Mike, what the hell."
El gets up from the table and storms off silently.
Dustin watches her go, then stands up to follow her when she's turned the corner toward her bedroom. No one stops him or follows him.
El's door is ajar. "El?" he calls gently through the door. When she doesn't answer, he opens it a little more to see her lying on her bed, curled up like she's been crying.
"Do you want me to sit with you?" Dustin asks, hovering in the doorway. When she doesn't respond, he continues, "Or would you rather be alone?"
El tucks her arms in a little more. "Your food will get cold," she says, slightly muffled by the pillow.
Dustin wonders how that matters. "So will yours."
He sits on the end of the bed and props his feet on the bed frame.
El raises her head silently.
“I’m glad you hit her with the skate,” Dustin tells her. “She deserved it. Plus, it was a pretty badass way to get back at her.”
El sits herself up and props her feet on the bed frame. She hunches her back and hugs herself.
"Suzie is lucky," she says.
Dustin blinks.
What Dustin hasn't told anyone is that he and Suzie aren’t actually dating anymore. The topic hasn't come up. Over breakfast, Will asked him about Suzie, but Dustin didn't get the chance to answer. "We actually broke up after Christmas," he admits. "We still talk, and she's sent me a couple postcards since then, but- we're just friends now."
“Oh.”
Dustin picks at a loose string on his pants leg. “Yeah…”
“I think…” El says hesitantly. “I think maybe Mike and I— we should be ‘just friends’ too.” She looks at Dustin for his reaction.
Dustin’s heart skips a beat. “Yeah?”
“He doesn’t…” she trails off. Her face contorts into a sad, frustrated expression. “He doesn’t love me anymore.”
Dustin raises his eyebrows. “No way. You?” He scoffs out a laugh. “C’mon, El. Of course he loves you. You’re you.”
“Maybe.” El’s mouth twitches into a small smile. “But he doesn’t tell me.” She frowns again.
“He can be a real piece of shit sometimes,” Dustin admits. “But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you. I mean, he woke up before sunrise this morning to see you. That’s dedication.”
El squints in confusion. “But… So did you?”
“Well yeah— I love you, too,” Dustin laughs. “Uh-” he stammers, “because you’re my friend,” he clarifies. “And Will, too,” he adds.
El smiles. “Yeah. Friend.” Her eyes twinkle in amusement.
Dustin is lucky the room is so dim. His cheeks are turning bright red.
He glances down at his friend’s lips. Her lip gloss is worn off, and he contemplates how dry they look. Instinctively, he wets his own lips.
El looks down, suddenly conscious of her emotional infidelity to Mike. “I want to be just friends with him. I… I need to dump his ass.”
Dustin nods, understanding now. He closes his eyes, silently reprimanding himself for his thoughts of kissing her. Mike deserves a better friend than him. “I’m sure he’ll understand,” he murmurs.
“I will tell him tomorrow,” El decides.
She taps Dustin’s forearm and gestures to the doorway. “Right now, we should go finish our dinner.”
Dustin grins. “I thought we said it was probably cold by now.”
“Doesn’t matter. We can heat it up in the microwave.”
“Fair enough."
This is shaping up to be an interesting Spring Break.