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The cabin looked smaller than Mike remembered.
Maybe it was because he hadn't been there in months. Maybe it was because every time he came here now, he felt like he was walking into a place where he didn't quite belong anymore.
The door creaked open before he could knock.
El stood there wearing an oversized flannel and mismatched socks and her new buzzcut (it made her look like a bo-). "Hi," she said.
"Hey."
An awkward silence settled between them.
Mike shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
Normally he'd hug her.
Normally she'd hug him.
(Normal, what a ridiculous concept)
Instead, they just stared at each other for a second too long.
"Um," Mike said. "Everyone's getting ready for the sleepover."
El nodded.
"Max says Lucas will bring too many snacks."
"Yeah."
"And Dustin says he has something "important" to show us."
"Okay."
Another silence.
Mike laughed nervously.
"This is weird....." "A little."
"Right."
He rubbed the back of his neck.
Something felt off.
Had felt off for weeks, honestly.
The phone calls had become shorter. The letters had become less frequent. Every conversation seemed to end with both of them searching for something to say.
Still, he wasn't worried.
Relationships got weird sometimes.
That was normal.
Wasn't it?
"So..." Mike forced a smile. "Are you coming?"
El looked down at the floor.
Then she looked back up.
"Yes."
Mike nodded.
"Cool."
"But first we need to talk."
The smile froze on his face.
Those five words hit him harder than they should have.
Need to talk.
Nobody ever said that when something good was about to happen.
"Oh."
El stepped aside.
"You can come in."
Mike entered the cabin.
The familiar smell of wood and old coffee filled the room.
Hopper wasn't there.
Just the two of them.
For some reason that made Mike nervous.
They sat across from each other at the small table.
Neither spoke.
The silence stretched.
Mike hated silence.
He always filled silence.
Usually with jokes.
Or rambling.
Or stupid comments.
Anything.
Now he couldn't think of a single thing to say.
El finally broke the quiet.
"You know I care about you."
Mike blinked.
His stomach dropped.
"No," he said immediately. "Wait."
El raised an eyebrow,
"What?"
"Nothing."
His heart was beating too fast.
Because now he definitely knew where this was going.
And somehow he hadn't seen it coming.
Not really.
Not until this moment.
Not until she said those words.
You know I care about you. ( I LoV^!&eE yo-$2*****************)
The beginning of an ending.
"Mike," El said softly.
"I do care about you."
He swallowed.
"Okay."
"But I think we should stop being boyfriend and girlfriend."
The room went completely still.
Mike stared at her.
Waiting for the sentence to make sense.
Waiting for her to laugh.
Waiting for the punchline.
Instead she just looked sad.
And serious.
The kind of serious that couldn't be taken back.
"Oh."
That was all he could think of.
Just one stupid syllable.
Oh. (stupid sTUpiD STUPID)
El folded her hands together.
"I didn't want to hurt you."
"No."
"I really didn't."
"No, yeah."
Mike laughed weakly.
His chest felt tight.
"Of course."
Neither of them spoke.
The silence felt enormous.
"Why?" Mike finally asked.
El took a breath.
"Because I think you need something from me that I cannot give."
Mike frowned.
"What does even that mean?"
She thought carefully before answering. (Entirely ignoring his piercing tone, further proving how much he didn't deserve her)
"I think you want me to be the person who makes you happy."
Mike opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
Because that wasn't completely wrong.
And because hearing it out loud sounded awful.
"I don't know."
"I am not supposed to do that."
"You don't have to."
"But you ask it anyway."
Mike looked away.
The words stung because they felt true.
Not completely.
But enough.
El continued.
"And I need to become myself."
Mike looked back at her.
"What?"
"I need to know who I am."
She sounded more confident now.
Stronger.
"I spent so much of my life being what other people needed."
Mike stayed silent.
"Papa."
Her voice hardened.
"Then Hopper."
A little softer.
"Then you."
The guilt hit immediately. (More than he already carried.) (The guilt in his head, in his closet, in the L^eTTers8*****, left behind in the garage where the rain still pours and crashes)
"El—"
"I don't blame you."
She smiled sadly.
"But I think I need to learn who I am without being someone's girlfriend."
Mike stared at the table.
He didn't know what to say.
Part of him wanted to argue.
Part of him wanted to tell her she was wrong.
Another part knew she wasn't.
The worst part knew she'd been thinking about this for a long time.
Long enough to have reasons.
Long enough to have certainty.
Long enough to leave.
"Is this because of California?" he asked quietly.
"No."
"Because of the letters?"
"No."
"Then what?"
El hesitated.
Then she said the thing he had been avoiding for months.
"You cannot tell me you love me."
Mike froze.
Every muscle in his body locked.
The air disappeared from the room.
He felt twelve years old again.
Standing in front of a classroom.
Waiting to be laughed at.
Waiting to get something wrong.
Waiting to fail. Waiting to fall. (jUmP&88********)
"I—"
His throat closed.
El watched him carefully.
Not angry.
Not accusing.
Just accepting.
"You see?" ( You see what happens miC^He#aL**********)
Mike looked away immediately.
Heat flooded his face.
Shame.
Instant and overwhelming.
He hated this.
Hated this conversation.
Hated himself.
Because she was right.
She was completely right.
He couldn't say it.
No matter how many chances he'd had.
No matter how badly she wanted to hear it.
No matter how much he wished he could just force the words out.
"I don't know what's wrong with me," he muttered.
The words escaped before he could stop them.
El frowned.
"There is nothing wrong with you."
Mike laughed bitterly.
"Sure."
"Mike."
"Seriously, El."
His voice cracked.
"You've literally been waiting for me to say three words for months."
He looked down at his hands.
"I can't even do that."
His vision blurred.
He blinked hard.
Not here.
Not now.
Not in front of her.
But the tears kept coming anyway.
Because underneath everything else was a truth he couldn't explain.
Something broken inside him.
Something twisted.
Something that made every conversation about love feel like he was pretending.
Like he was reading lines from a script everyone else understood.
Everyone except him.
He hated himself for it.
Every day.
Every damned day.
"You deserve someone better."
The words slipped out.
El immediately shook her head.
"No."
"Yes."
"No."
Mike laughed through tears.
"Come on."
"I am serious."
"So am I."
He wiped at his eyes.
His hands were shaking.
"I can't even be normal."
The second he said it, he regretted it.
Because El's expression changed.
Not hurt.
Concerned.
Deep concern.
"Mike."
He looked away.
Ashamed.
"I don't know why I'm like this."
The confession felt dangerous.
Too close to something he wasn't ready to name.
Something he barely let himself think about.
Something buried beneath layers of fear and denial and self-hatred.
El was quiet for a long moment.
Then she said softly:
"You do not have to know right now."
Mike stared at her.
"What?"
"You do not have to know everything about yourself right now."
For some reason, that made him cry harder.
Because she said it so simply.
As if uncertainty wasn't a crime.
As if confusion wasn't a failure.
As if he wasn't secretly defective.
El reached across the table and put a hand over his.
Not romantic.
Not possessive.
Just kind.
"You are my best friend."
Mike laughed weakly.
"I think Will might argue with that."
A small smile appeared on her face.
"Then one of my best friends."
He smiled despite himself.
The tears kept falling.
But it felt easier to breathe now.
"I didn't think this was happening," he admitted.
"I know."
"I thought we would be okay."
"I know."
Mike nodded slowly.
The hurt was still there.
But it was dissapating
and strangely, beneath it, there was relief.
Not relief that they'd broken up.
Relief that the thing hanging between them was finally spoken out loud.
No more pretending.
No more forcing something neither of them fully understood anymore.
El squeezed his hand.
"I want us to be friends."
Mike looked at her.
Really looked at her.
And realized she meant it.
This wasn't goodbye.
Just different.
A different shape.
A different future.
One where neither of them had to keep trying to be something they weren't.
After a moment, Mike nodded.
"Yeah."
His voice was rough.
"Okay."
El smiled.
A real smile this time.
And somehow that hurt less than he expected.
Outside, he could hear distant voices.
Their friends.
Waiting for them.
Life continuing.
The world refusing to end.
Mike stood.
El stood too.
For a second neither knew what to do.
Then they hugged.
It was brief.
A little weird.
But warm.
When they pulled apart, El smiled again.
"Ready for the sleepover?"
Mike wiped his eyes.
"Give me like five minutes."
She laughed.
"Okay."
As she headed for the door, Mike watched her go.
His heart hurt.
But his chest felt...full.
And for the first time in months, he wasn't pretending.
And that felt like the beginning.