Chương 31: 31. Crush
It seemed to Mike that there were three categories that middle schoolers fell into: having a hopeless crush on someone completely unattainable, refusing to have a crush and minding their own business, or getting into a relationship that was terribly unstable and not actually based off genuine feelings.
Dating in middle school had always baffled Mike. To him, the only benefit of a flimsy, predictable "relationship" was a few weeks worth of popularity before the couple either split in an excessively dramatic way or they tried stay strong and everyone quickly forgot about them. All of the ones he had watched crumble were so fake that they almost made him lose his hope in love in general.
The last girl he liked was in third grade. He doesn't even remember her name, just knows that she'd tried to tell the teacher one time that Troy was bullying him and Will on the playground. When that didn't work, she hung out with them for a couple days to keep them safe, before she got bored of their nerdy nature and moved onto another group. He remembers being mesmerized by her, only for her to break his heart when he realized she only associated with them because she had nothing better to do. And after that, he'd just kind of...shut down. He still found girls attractive, but none of them were catching his eye.
Maybe, somehow, his heart knew. Maybe it knew she was out there, that she was getting closer and it carved out her place in his heart before he'd even met her.
It took her running away and coming back to save his life for him to finally admit that he had a crush on her. But that was ridiculous, he'd only known her for a few days, how could he possibly already have feelings for her?
That was a lie. He knew how. He knew from the moment she sweetly bid him good night and the storm of butterflies that rushed through him, that she wasn't an ordinary girl and he didn't have ordinary feelings for her.
Still, saying he had a crush on her had never really clicked, especially after she was torn out of his life, taking his heart with her.
She was more than a label. A label had boundaries, restrictions, things it couldn't be. With El, their relationship and how he felt about her was so ambiguous and vast that it refused to fit within any box he tried to put around it. She was his friend and more than a friend. His crush and his soulmate. There simply was no word that could encompass it all. Except...except...
No, he wasn't there yet. He knew, some part of him knew truly how deep and bottomless what he felt for her was. But the thought scared him in a way, because right now, he doesn't even know if...if he'll ever see her again. And to dedicate his heart and soul to her forever without...without laying eyes on her ever again...
No. He shakes his head as if to fling that thought as far away from him as possible. She's out there. Without a doubt. He can...he can feel her, not in a creepy way but in a way where he just...knows.
It's Day 309 and he's found himself contemplating the juxtaposition between the soulful, passionate feelings he holds for the most amazing girl he'll ever meet and the sheer idiocracy that is middle school "romance".
Because none of them get it. None of the classmates chattering mindlessly around him in their math class truly understand what it means to care for someone so deeply that you would die for them. From the bits and pieces he's picked up, the popular girls to the left of him are convinced they've found their "one true man" and the jocks behind him are subtly trying to figure out how to earn their affections and it's all so petty that Mike can't do anything but roll his eyes and block them out the best he can.
That is, until the kid behind him taps him on his shoulder, jolting him out of his thoughts.
"Wheeler, who do you have a crush on?"
His eyes narrow just the tiniest bit, skeptical of the question, before he replies flatly, "I don't have a crush." Something twists in his gut as he turns back around in an attempt to end the conversation, but it wasn't a lie per say. He didn't technically have one at the moment, his feelings had expanded well beyond that a long time ago.
But there was no way he was going to tell this jock that, it wasn't information he was planning on telling anyone, much less the younger brother of a high school quarterback he didn't care about.
Much to his annoyance, the subject isn't dropped after that. "Come on man, everyone has a crush. Just tell me." Mike all but scoffs at his plea, glancing back over his shoulder to glare at him in frustration. "Leave me alone, Brett." "Hey, I'm just curious," the boy responds. "Just wanna see who you've got your eye on."
Mike chooses not to comment on that, praying that this exchange is over. He goes back to the worksheet they've been handed and mistakenly thanks the heavens that he shut Brett up.
"Is she cute?"
He can't help it. His mind traitorously flashes to El's face, her sparkling eyes looking up at him, all wide and trusting, her soft cheeks accented by a smile gracing her lips, only for him.
She's freaking beautiful.
A soft heat rises to his cheeks and he tries to shove it back down, shove the flurry of butterflies back down into their cage but it's enough.
"Oh ho, you're blushing, you do like someone, I knew it! What's her name?"
Dang it. He hurriedly glances around, making sure none of the popular crowd was drawn to their conversation by his excited outburst, before lowering his voice and replying to him, his tone dark. "You don't know her. She...she doesn't go here."
This hurts. It hurts to have to craft a story for her, to make her sound all...normal. His El is anything but. She deserves to write her own story.
"Aw c'mon man, not even a name? Who knows, I know a lot of people! C'mon, what's it start with? A? B? C? D?"
Oh no. Not this. No, he doesn't want to do this, please not now. He feels the ache in his chest growing, faster and uglier and he clenches his teeth, willing himself to tune the airhead beside him out as he turns back to face the front of the classroom, but each letter pierces his mind and he braces himself for the inevitable.
"I? J?"
He misses her. He wants her. He needs her.
"K?"
He sucks in a breath, clenching his fist tightly around his pencil. Here it comes.
"L?"
He swallows, hard, the lump in his throat rushing up too fast for him to catch it, his heart torn between anger and despair. How dare he speak the name Mike had given her. It sounds absolutely terrible coming from him and he has the dangerous urge to slap the boy.
This doesn't go unnoticed. "Oh, it starts with an L?"
He can't take this. Visibly shaking with emotion, he throws down his pencil and hurries for the door, ignoring the looks from his classmates and his teacher. He'll deal with them later, but the grief of losing her is pouring forth without ceasing, scraping his heart in the process and he can't breathe and none of them get it.
He locks himself in a bathroom stall and weeps for the girl who he misses beyond words, her comforting eyes scorched into his mind's eye and he knows he would give anything just to see her looking at him like that again.
"Please. Mike." "I know kid, I know. I'll take you back to him."
She's fighting with everything she has to stay awake. Sleep is beckoning her with a gentle hand and she wants so badly to give in, to slip into delicious nothingness, but she needs to see him. Her soul is crying out for him, to look into his eyes again, be held in his arms to make it real that she was no longer separated from him and that he wasn't going anywhere.
The whole car ride back to the Byers house is blurry, her vision growing fuzzy as her mind slowly begins to shut down but no, no, no, Mike.
She whimpers out his name, tears running swiftly down her cheeks as she watches the road, urging Hopper to go faster and he takes on hand off the steering wheel to place it on her shoulder, strong and steady. "Stay awake, El. He'll be waiting for you, just stay awake."
The sight of the Byers house coming into view sends a rush of relief through her and she gathers what little strength she has left to lift her head as the cruiser pulls into the driveway. When the door to the house opens, she can't help the sob that's ripped from her throat as Mike comes running out and jumps off the porch. Ignoring her physical capabilities right now, she fumbles for the door handle, unlocking it frantically, her hands shaking as she stumbles from the car.
"El!" He cries, his voice cracking and desperate. She can see him and only him as he rushes towards her and she forces her feet forward, needing him more than she ever has. Her steps are unstable but nothing right now could keep her from him. Her arms reach for him, and she barely hears her own voice calling his name before he's suddenly there and he's hugging her fiercely, one arm around her shoulders, one around her back and she just melts against him. His cheek rests against her hair, cocooning her in his arms and she just feels so safe and absolutely loved. Her arms wrap tightly around him, feeling his heartbeat, feeling each and every breath and he's alive, he's alive and she never, ever wants to let him go.
He holds her in a strong, tender embrace as everything comes rushing to the surface and she sobs, hands fisting in his shirt. She presses her face against his shoulder, sobbing for the time they'd lost, for the overwhelming feelings she holds for this boy, for the wound she had just closed, for the story that was ending and the story that was just beginning.
She hears Mike's breath hitch and suddenly he's crying too, which only causes her tears to multiply. Nothing spoken out loud could possibly measure up to the weight and intimacy of this moment, so not a word is said as hands continue to cling desperately to one another, hearts pouring out a year's worth of unspoken emotions without a shred of shame between them.
After an eternity, her tears slowly subside and she slowly raises her head to look into the eyes of the one she cares for the most. And for the first time in 353 days, she gets to truly see him.
He's a mess, but she's never been so overjoyed to see anyone in her entire life. Their tear-soaked eyes lock and she's suddenly breathless, words she's dying to say getting trapped in her throat as her heart begins to race faster and faster. A watery smile tugs at the corner of her lips, matching the dopey grin that's lighting up his face, tears still dripping down his cheeks.
"You're here," he whispers gently, reverently. She lets out a breathless chuckle, squeezing him tighter. "I'm here," she replies, reassuring both him and herself. "I...I missed you, Mike. So, so much." Her throat constricts, her words choked as she falls farther and farther into the eyes she's been so desperately longing to see. Her body is screaming at her to rest, but she shoves it down as deep as she can, because the only thing that matters right now is Mike.
"El, I missed you too. More than I can explain, I...I don't think I can be away from you for very long ever again," he tells her, biting his lip and she knows, she just knows he's trying to keep his tears at bay. She shakes her head in agreement, knowing in her heart that the need to be by his side isn't going to go away now that they're back together. "I can't either, Mike," she replies quietly, relieved that he feels the same way. Unspoken sentiments pass between them as they share one more smile before he pulls her back into his arms and she goes willingly.
Of course, that's the exact moment her strength decides to give out and she's vaguely aware that she's falling before her vision tunnels dangerously and the world goes dark.
Everything hurts.
As her conscious swims to the surface, the one thing she becomes aware of is how much her body aches. Her head pounds in time to her heartbeat, the dull throbbing painful enough to make her immediately try to fall back asleep. Keeping her eyes shut, she attempts to make herself more comfortable by rolling onto her side, but her body protests, her muscles twinging and she groans, curling up in a ball, wincing as she does so.
"El?"
She freezes, the voice not one she was expecting, but the familiarity of it causes her to gasp, her eyes flying open as she remembered where she was and what had happened.
The first person she sees is Dustin, crouching by her bed with a big grin on his face and for a moment, she just stares at him blankly, trying to process what she was seeing. For almost a year she'd woken up to the same confining walls of the cabin, but now she's lying in a bed at the Byers' house with one of her best friends at her bedside. And wow, is it good to see him.
"Do you remember what happened?" He's asking her quietly, still unable to keep the friendly smile of his face and she nods noncommittally, giving him a tiny smile of her own as she struggles to keep her eyes open. "I'm happy to see you," she mumbles, still not quite piecing together what him being here means. "Yeah, we're all happy to see you too, we've missed our superhero," he tells her warmly.
We're happy. We. That includes...
A jolt of energy rushes through her and she's suddenly wide awake, her lungs straining as she gasps and Dustin's eyes go wide. "El, what's wrong?" he says hurriedly and she looks straight at him.
"Mike," she pleads, suddenly desperate for the ebony-haired boy she cares for so, so much. "Please, where's-" she starts to ask, struggling to push herself up, determined to go find him herself, but Dustin quickly puts a hand on her arm, gently pushing her back down. "Shhh, no, you need to rest. Mike's down the hall making sure Will's okay. He spent the whole night in here with you, so trust me, Prince Charming's eager to see you too."
His words send a spark of affection down her spine, her heart bursting at the thought of Mike not wanting to leave her side all night and she can feel a smile begin to light up her face.
But something else Dustin said catches her attention. "Prince...Charming?" she asks timidly, inquisitively, wondering who that was and what it had to do with Mike. Dustin chuckles before replying easily. "Yeah, it's what you call the dashing hero in a fairy tale that always falls in love with the princess and she falls in love with him. And Mike may not be a dashing hero, but considering the way he looks at you and the major crush you seem to have on him..." he trails off, shrugging his shoulders and she somehow manages to grasp what he's implying, despite one unfamiliar word jumping out at her.
"Crush?" she asks him, almost in a whisper. Dustin's eyebrows raise and she shrinks back, afraid she asked about something she should already know, but he eventually laughs softly, shaking his head. "I think you'd rather have Mike explain that one, but I can try anyway. A crush is when...when you like someone so much that you just want to be by their side always and...and see them smile and make them laugh and hug them and spend time with them. Does that make sense?"
Someone that you...someone that you...like.
A friend?
No, not a friend. Someone like a...someone like a...
Oh.
Like a crush.
Like someone that you...
She knows the word. The big one that people on the television always seemed to either shy away from or declare boldly. It's one she's mulled over in her head during many restless nights, missing the only person she was convinced she could ever feel that for, but she's too worn out to continue that contemplation now. Besides, she finally can be with that person again and she's beginning to worry that she might just die if she doesn't see him soon.
"Sorry, I know that must be a lot to take in," Dustin says, interrupting her thoughts. "We can talk more about it later, but I'm guessing there's someone you really want to see." He grins when she nods frantically and she watches as he pushes himself to his feet. "Good to see you, El!" he throws over his shoulder before he opens the door and disappears down the hallway, headed to Will's room.
Feeling the whispers of sleep trying to beckon her back under, she gingerly pushes herself up, scooting back to rest against the headboard, her shoulder against the wooden frame so she can face the door. She wants to be able to greet him properly, because he deserves nothing less.
Her heart leaps when she hears padded feet rushing down the hallway and she sits up just a little bit straighter, the anticipation flowing through her veins.
When he suddenly appears in the doorway, relief floods her system, the anxious knot in her stomach disappearing instantly. She smiles at him tenderly as he makes his way over to her, her hands reaching for him without a conscious thought. He grasps them in his own and kneels beside her bedside, his eyes deep and rich with emotion, his thumbs already rubbing small circles over the backs of her hands.
"Hi," she whispers, scooting just a little closer to him, basking in the glow of his presence, hoping she'll never, ever get tired of seeing him. "Hi," he whispers back with a chuckle, a soft grin turning up the corners of his mouth. "How're you feeling?" he asks, his brow creasing with worry, his eyes darting over her face to check for anything abnormal, sending a tingle up her spine.
She shrugs as much as she can. "Tired and sore," she replies. "But I'm glad to see you." Squeezing his hands earnestly, she watches as he bows his head, his smile growing and his eyes are gleaming when he looks back up. "I'm so glad to see you too. I...I have so much I want to tell you, El. And so much I want to hear from you." "We have time," she tells him quietly, because they do. They have all the time in the world to be together and she honestly couldn't ask for anything more. "Yeah, we do now," he agrees, almost in a whisper.
"But first, can you stand? You should probably eat something, you've been out for a while. And...I can help you get cleaned up if you want?" A blush rises to his cheeks when he add that last part and her stomach flips in adoration, because of course his first concern is her well being. She nods, suddenly becoming aware of how gross she feels and he steps back to let her move her aching body out from under the covers.
After a few tedious minutes of Mike helping her get out of bed, they make their way down to the bathroom, with El explaining with a few short words that she wanted to get cleaned up first. She waves at Hopper when she catches his eye from where he's standing in the living room and he waves back, looking tired as heck, nodding to Mike as a greeting. He nods back and El breathes a sigh of relief, happy Hopper was letting them have this time alone together, something they both desperately need.
She heaves her tired body up on the counter when they get to the bathroom and watches as Mike closes the door behind him, leaving only a sliver between them and the rest of the house. She smiles at his thoughtfulness, before speaking up quietly. "You can close it," she tells him and he glances back at her. "You sure?" She nods, reaching for his hand, which he clasps without hesitation. "I'm with you," she tells him simply and he grins bashfully, before shutting the door all the way.
Without letting go of her hand, he bends down and opens the cabinet beside her feet, digging around until he finds a washcloth. When he has to release her in order to wet it under the sink, she takes the opportunity to glance at herself in the mirror behind her...
And almost gasps at what she sees. She looks horrible. Dried blood is caked to the lower half of her face, muddy red and flaking, trailing from her nose, around the corners of her lips and down her chin, staining her skin, which is the palest she's ever seen it. The shadows around her eyes reflect the exhaustion she feels all the way to her bones, not to mention the makeup that's now smeared down to her cheekbones, making her look...haunted. The gel in her hair is still stubbornly trying to keep it slicked back, but after sleeping on it for a night, it's now starting to curl back up, the flyaways sticking up in all different directions.
She's a disaster.
"El?" He meets her gaze in the mirror and she turns back to look at him. His brow is furrowed as he searches her eyes with concern and she bows her head, intentionally glancing at the washcloth in his hand, suddenly self-conscious.
His free hand comes to cup her cheek and she looks back up at him, a question on the tip of her tongue but he beats her to it.
"Still pretty," he whispers softly, sending a wave of warmth through her and she fights to swallow the lump that forms in her throat.
Oh, how she'd been longing to hear those words again.
She knows the gratitude and affection is shining brilliantly on her face when the worry melts from his eyes and he smiles back at her. "Is it okay if I clean off your face?" he asks her sincerely, wringing out the cloth over the sink. "Yes," she whispers and sits up straighter, anticipation humming through her veins. Raising the wet cloth to her forehead, he begins to wipe away the sweat and grime using smooth, gentle strokes and with it, every fear and anxiety that had made a home in her mind over the past few days.
"Déjà vu," he says suddenly and she looks at him with confusion. "Dè...Déjà vu?" "Yeah, it's when you're doing or saying something that you've done before. You get a weird feeling, like you've gone back in time and you're living the same moment again." She smiles softly as he explains this to her, catching onto why he was bringing this up. "We've done this before," she says, echoing his words, remembering how he'd cleaned her up in his bathroom after that encounter with the mouthbreathers. He nods, looking her in the eye as he works and she's starting to believe that she could survive purely off of his gaze if she had to.
"I...I thought about that day a lot," he almost whispers, his face darkening marginally. "I should've protected you more than I did. I'm so sorry for what happened." She frowns, dumbfounded as to where this was coming from. If anything, she's the one that should be apologizing, but he barrels ahead anyway, his voice painfully somber. "I always wished...I dunno, I guess I'd always wished I'd done things differently." Her heart sinks even farther at his words and a flicker of heavy understanding passes between them, because she does too. With all of her heart, she wishes she would've realized what he meant to her sooner, expressed to him how much she needed and adored him earlier. Even though they couldn't have possibly foreseen what was to come...the regrets she carried still hurt and it saddens her to know he feels the same.
Her curiosity soon gets the better of her. "What would you have done differently?" she asks quietly, her stomach flipping when he gently presses his hand to the back of her neck, stabilizing her as he begins wiping away the dried blood off her chin. He's silent for a moment, evidently pondering her question before he blows out a breath and she scoots the tiniest bit closer to him, wanting him to know that she's here to listen and she won't judge what he has to say.
"I would've spent every possible moment by your side," he finally murmurs. "And...I would've kissed you earlier."
His face flushes a bright red and something inside her positively glows at his words. The air around them begins to hum with giddy affection as he sends her a bashful smile and she feels like she's about to combust from just how strongly she adores him. Her next words slip out of her without a second thought, fueled by her overwhelming affections, because he needs to know.
"I have a crush on you."
Time halts, and the unspoken weight behind her sentence slams into the both of them, breaking the wall they both hid their true feelings behind. The moment is breathless, suspended, as they fall deeper and deeper in the other's gaze, hearts pounding wildly, but she's never felt more at peace.
That is, until his eyes start welling up.
Alarm spikes in her when the first tear falls and she quickly raises her hands to cup his cheeks, worried that she had said the wrong thing or that...or that he doesn't feel the same way about her.
"Mike?" Her voice is timid, afraid and it seems to shake him out of he stupor he was in. "Sorry, I just..." he starts, before he pauses, sniffing and shaking his head, the tiniest smile inching onto his lips. "I have a crush on you too, El," he confesses, his heart in his gaze and her own heart leaps for joy, ecstatic that she had earned his affections in return. "Maybe it's something more, I don't know," he continues. "But I spent so long worrying that you didn't feel the same..." His voice trails off, cracking in the most heartbreaking way and she can't ignore her need to hold him any longer, so she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him into an embrace and he wraps his own arms around her waist, burying his face against her shoulder.
She wants so badly to give him a reason never to doubt her feelings for him again. It's a daunting task, but she's more than willing to accept the challenge. For now, she whispers, "Please don't worry, Mike," and when she feels him smile, she knows it was enough.
"I've wanted to tell you that for a long, long time," he admits after a few moments have passed. She squeezes him, letting his statement sink into her and warm her heart before she whispers, "I have too," meaning it wholeheartedly. He lifts his head at that, his grin goofy and blissful and she knows right then and there that this? This is forever. Her and him. Him and her. Mike and El.
Her breath hitches when she recognizes the intensity in his gaze and just like that, the world around them disappears as he slowly, hesitantly begins to lean in, his eyes flickering to her lips. Her pulse begins to race deliciously, and she boldly lets her eyes slip shut as he gets closer and closer and she can feel his stuttered breath against her skin and—
Their lips meet and she could've sworn her heart exploded that very moment. She's been dreaming of this for 353 days and now...now her world has righted itself and she's never felt more complete in her whole life.
When he pulls back, his cheeks are flushed, but his eyes sparkle with bliss and she can't help but smile wider than she has since she reunited with him the previous night, the elation within her buzzing happily under her skin.
She breaks the silence first. "Déjà vu," she quips playfully, knowingly and he chuckles, his grin growing even more. "Yeah, déjà vu," he agrees. "Only this time, we don't have to run for our lives." "Good," she whispers, one hand idly playing with the ends of his hair. "This time, I'm staying." "Good."
"El?" "Yes?" "I have a crush on you." "I have a crush on you, too, Mike."
But that's not the entire truth, is it?
Because El loves Mike.
And she can't wait for the day that she tells him.
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