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Their friends never could grasp the concept of being too loud.
Bits and pieces of different first-day conversations blended together as he and Will made their way to their lockers between bells. From what he could parse out, Pete and Lori's very public breakup was getting ugly, the football team wasn't going to win a single game, and Mr. Reade was already trying to ruin the lives of his Calculus students.
They all might as well have been buzzing, and Mike could still hear Dustin, Lucas, and Max above it all as he approached, the three of them meeting in a tight semi-circle surrounding his locker.
The lack of El's presence struck him immediately, but before he could overthink it, the group's voices scrambled his thoughts.
"Who's gonna tell him?"
"Not me."
"Well, I'm not doing it. He's going to totally flip his shit."
"Guys, come on. What are the odds he hasn’t heard already?"
Apparently, he was the subject of the conversation – the words “Will” and “flip his shit” didn’t typically belong together; he couldn’t say the same for himself.
But he had heard more things in four periods than he could keep track of. Nothing he recalled remotely caring about, though.
"Why don't you ask him, and he'll tell you?" Mike cut in as he came up behind them, shoving through to get to his combination lock.
Their stares burned on his back as he opened the door, no one saying a word. The sensation made him want to squirm or run or both. After mere seconds, it became too much to take. He whipped around with an expectant shake of his head, "Okay, what is it?"
"Mike! Hey!" Lucas fabricated a grin.
Mike narrowed his eyes, "Hi?"
He scanned the rest of the group as Lucas went on, "Have you…heard anything lately?"
"Like what?” He felt his brain light up as anxiety dug in, “Is El alright?"
"Oh, yeah, totally." Dustin supplied, “Completely, totally fine. One might even say she’s even better than fine.”
“Yeah! It’s just….” Lucas trailed off with a weighted sigh.
Mike groaned, “Can you guys please just tell me what the hell you're talking about?"
"Screw this. I'll do it." Max turned to him sharply, "The entire school is talking about El."
That he hadn't heard, not a single whisper.
His mouth went dry, "What are they saying?"
"Seriously, Mike?" Max arched an eyebrow, "Your girlfriend is new here and really pretty. I know it’s tough for you, but use your brain and connect those dots."
He knew El was gorgeous, of course, he did, but given how awful everyone at her old school was, he considered himself lucky that other people were stupid enough to not notice themselves. Especially guys that were better looking, stronger, and even smarter. The ones who told funnier jokes and weren't strung as tightly as he was.
All of whom could fall in love with her just as quickly as he did.
Suddenly, he was drowning. Dense, cold energy coursed through his veins, making it a little harder to breathe, wasting no time in filling his stomach with some kind of vile poison.
El loved him; there was never a reason to doubt that. In his heart, he knew she would never hurt him, especially not in that way. The deep-seated trust they had built together remained his only source of comfort at the moment.
But none of that meant she could never change her mind about him.
His paralyzing dread centered on knowing there was so much more out there, even in the confines of Hawkins High. How could he ever blame her if she eventually decided she wanted something else – someone that wasn't him?
He almost let the weight of it all bring him right down to the floor, but the party was watching, waiting for a reaction he refused to give them. So, he turned back to his locker with an apathetic shrug, working desperately to keep his voice level, "Okay."
"'Okay?' Okay?" Dustin gawked, "Who the hell are you, and what have you done with Michael Wheeler?"
"I'm fine. Just drop it, alright?" Mike muttered as he slammed the door shut. He focused on Max, "Where is she, anyway? The bell is gonna ring any second."
Max rolled her eyes with an exaggerated groan, "Got picked off by her guidance counselor halfway through class. I'd bet she's being waterboarded by fun facts and icebreakers."
"Happened to me in third," Will shook his head, "It was awful."
"Oh, shit." Dustin's eyes blew wide open as he looked down the hallway, "Mike, four o'clock."
Mike snapped his head to his left. El was approaching, her pink sweater tucked neatly into her jeans. Not even the fluorescent lights could dim her glow. The only thing ruining the view was the talking blond mullet at her side.
Jeremy Jennings.
The one guy in school who was worse than anything Steve had been before Nancy miraculously managed to pull his ginormous head out of his ass.
Naturally.
If he clenched his jaw any tighter, it might have cracked clean off his skull.
"God, not Jeremy Jennings." Max scoffed on par with the bell resounding through the halls; their classmates scattered like mice around them.
"For real. People with alliterative names are the worst." Lucas quipped in what Mike guessed was an attempt to make him feel better.
Max crossed her arms against her chest, "I have an alliterative name."
"Way to prove his point," Dustin teased before Lucas could stutter a correction. He moved towards the direction of the lunchroom, "Let's go. I'm not getting canned on the first day for being late to lunch."
The rest of the group followed, Max and Lucas' bickering fading with every step they took until they were no longer in sight, but Mike stayed rooted in place.
El stopped short when she reached him. In one smooth motion, Jeremy spun on his heels.
He winked as he walked backward, "All right. Catch you on the flip side, Jane." Then, turning his attention to Mike, he nodded curtly, "Wheeler."
With a smirk and a mock salute, he disappeared around a corner.
Catch you on the flip side, Jane.
He could have rolled his eyes right out the back of his head.
"Hi," El tugged gently on his hand, forcing him to turn towards her.
"Hey," he managed a smile before El was up on her toes, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.
The fleeting warmth was enough for him to clear some of the fog in his head, but El still pulled back with concern, "What’s wrong?"
“Nothing,” he shook his head, holding out his arm for hers to thread through. El interlocked their hands, pressing into his side as they began to walk, "How's your day been?"
“I know you're not telling the truth,” he felt her side-eyed glance on his face, “but it's been good."
He avoided acknowledging she was right, "Your guidance counselor didn't bore you to death?"
"No, she was sweet." She hummed, "I like her."
"What did Jeremy say to you?" He blurted out before he knew the words were coming out of his mouth.
“Who?"
"That-that guy you were just talking to."
"Oh – don't know. Something about a party?" He felt her shrug against him, "I wasn't really listening."
The answer would have made him feel a whole lot better if he never shoved the lunchroom door open.
In a small school, being late to lunch came with a unique set of consequences. Whether it was one minute or twenty, every single pair of eyes in the room would zero in on whoever dared step through the door last.
Which meant the entire cafeteria was treated to a first-class view of the pretty, new girl holding hands with resident dweeb Mike Wheeler.
The whispers started almost instantly.
"What’s their problem?" El murmured as Mike ducked his head, leading them to the table their friends had secured.
It was going to be a long fucking day.
For someone who usually blended into the background of the social scene, he was sure he had never been looked at more in his entire life. By the end of the day, he'd spat more than a few choice words at some of his classmates.
There was no doubt that everyone was trying to figure out what the hell Jane Hopper saw in him.
He should have told them to join the club.
Mike trudged into his house with El in tow, passing his mom in the kitchen, heading directly down the basement stairs. He half-heartedly shrugged his backpack off, throwing himself face down on the couch with all his weight.
He didn't realize she hadn't been right behind him until he heard her laugh echo from upstairs.
There was no doubt she was trapped in a Karen Wheeler hostage situation, but he couldn't find the strength to pick himself up to save her.
"What are you doing?" El asked through a laugh as she bounded down the stairs a few minutes later, her backpack hitting the floor with a resounding thud.
His voice was muffled by the fabric, "Wallowing."
"Okay, that's it." He heard her take a few steps closer. Then, before he knew it, a pair of hands were tucked under his chest, pushing upwards to flip him over, "You've been acting weird since lunch. No more hiding."
With a huff, he turned onto his back, shoving himself as close to the back cushions to give El room to sit. She perched herself on the edge of the sofa, "What's going on?"
The way he saw it, he had two options.
He could make something up on the spot, a shitty teacher or something, hold onto all the tension until it pent up, and he ended up on the news as the boy who died of spontaneous combustion, or he could bite the bullet and get it over with.
Either way, there was a chance he could lose her, and it was probably best not to lie.
He brought both of his hands to his face, letting out a prolonged groan, "Everyone was looking at us today.”
“I know.” El tilted her head, “Is that what’s bothering you?”
“I mean, not completely, but sort of. It’s more why they were doing it.”
“Mike,” she met his eyes with a soft gaze, “just let it out.”
It was all he needed to hear; like a valve releasing its pressure, he went off, “A girl like you isn't supposed to be with a guy like me. That sounds so lame, but it's true. Everyone in the whole school knows it. You're beautiful, smart, and the best, and you’re with this major loser. There's already a ton of guys that are just waiting for me to screw up, and it was only the first day. Really, you should have seen how they were sizing me up.”
El's eyes were patient as she looked at him, exactly like she knew he had more to say. He went on, "Look, I don't want you to think I'm making this about me. I'm not, but I-I don't want you to feel like you have to stay with me just because we've been together for a while. That wouldn’t be fair to you."
He sighed, swallowing a lump in his throat. The words were pure acid on his tongue, "And don't worry about losing me, either. You'll always have me, even if you want to date Jeremy Jennings or whatever. I just…I want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy, even if it's not with me."
Even if that very thing could destroy him.
He left that part out.
He looked up at El, wearing a close-lipped smile as she placed a gentle hand on his knee, "Are you done?"
He nodded.
"Do you feel better now?"
"Kind of."
"Good." Her smile fully formed, "You're cute."
His mouth dropped open, "That's what you got from that?"
"No," she shook her head. "I also remembered that for a smart boy, you can be so stupid."
"Wait, wait. How does that make me stupid? I’m trying to be considerate here."
"Because." El shrugged, "Do you want to know what I think?"
"What?"
"I think," she slid closer so she could rake her fingers through his hair, "all of that dumb stuff should stay in the movies. It doesn’t belong with us."
“Maybe that’s true. But you did hear what I was saying, right?"
"I heard you."
"And you –"
"Mike, stop. You’re making yourself crazy.” With a slight grin, she covered his mouth, “I don’t care what anyone else is saying, and you shouldn’t either."
He raised an eyebrow as she removed her hand from his face, "Yeah?"
"Yes. They can say anything they want, but if I shaved all of my hair off tomorrow, they would forget about me or make fun of me, but you would still love me. That's the only thing that counts." She placed her hand on his cheek, "You and me."
There was a sureness in her tone that settled deep in his chest, making him feel like the idiot he was for even going to that desolate place, to begin with. Something warm and bright spread quickly from his head to his feet.
He felt his cheeks heat up with it, but he grinned back, "Yeah, well, I'll always love you. No matter what."
"I know." She smirked before scrunching her face up, "That's why I don't want to date Jeremy. I already have Mike Wheeler."
"Thank God," Mike let out a sigh of relief, "because I was totally lying about being okay with that."
El giggled, "I know that, too."
“I’m sorry I got carried away.” With a light laugh, Mike held his arms open, gesturing for her to come closer. El beamed as she shifted to situate her weight on top of his, resting her head on his chest.
"It’s okay. I like it when you tell me how you feel.” She craned her head up towards him, “And thank you for thinking about what I want, but what you said goes the same for you. I want you to be happy, too."
He wrapped his arms around her, "El, you make me the happiest guy in this universe and the next, like, eight thousand universes, at least. You’ll never have to worry about that."
She playfully smacked him on the chest, "See how easy it was for you to say that?"
"Hey!" He gasped, "Did you just set me up?"
"That's how easy it is for me, too. Understand?"
Mike nodded with a chuckle, "Okay, I got it."
"I have to tell you something, though." She pulled her head back to look at him, "You’re not going to like it."
He furrowed his eyebrows, "What is it?"
“You're really gonna hate it.”
“Well, now I have to know.”
“I love you,” she tried to subdue a smile, "but if Ralph Macchio ever comes for me, I'm going with him."
Mike scoffed, "Seriously? The Karate Kid? How am I supposed to compete with that?"
"You're not. That's why I said I was going with him."
"Now that's just cold."
"Warned you."
“Remind me to never publicly list our address, then. I mean, I’ll go down swinging if it comes to that; it just won’t be pretty.”
El let out a laugh, “Okay. Deal.”
As the billion tons lifted from his shoulders, they nestled into their homemade solace, homework be damned. And the following day, when they walk through the halls, his arm wrapped around El's shoulders, Mike makes sure to give the wide-eyed Jeremy his favorite salute.
The middle-fingered one.