Hopper
"And that's it on News Center this morning. Thanks for joining us. Let's hand off now to Liz at the news desk."

"All right, thank you, Donna. Turning now to local news, we're getting reports of surges and power outages all across the county. Last night, hundreds of homes in East Hawkins were affected, leaving many residences in the dark. The cause of the outage is still unknown. We reached out to Roane County Water and Electric, and a spokesperson says that they are confident power will be restored to all remaining homes within the next several hours."

I groan and check my watch for the time. I go outside on the porch, smoking a cigarette, and then go back in to take a shower. I brush my teeth and take my meds {not sure if they're legit or not but oh well}, taking one last sip of beer and blowing out one last puff of smoke before getting dressed into my sheriff uniform, grabbing my keys, and heading out the door to work.

Joyce
"Where the hell are they! Jonathan!"

"Check the couch!" he suggests.

"I did!" I feel around the couch more and find the keys hiding under the cushions. "Found them!" I gather the rest of my stuff. "Okay, sweetie, I will see you tonight."

"Yeah, see you later," he says, continuing work on breakfast.

"Where's Will?" I ask, realizing something's wrong.

"Oh, I didn't get him up yet," Jonathan says. "He's probably still sleeping."

I sigh. "Jonathan, you have to make sure he's up!"

"Mom, I'm making breakfast!"

"I told you this a thousand times!" I rush down the hallway to Will's room.

"Will, come on, honey! It's time to get up!" I open his door further and he's . . . not there.

I walk back to Jonathan. "He came home last night, right?"

"He's not in his room?" Jonathan asks.

"Did he come home or not?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"No. I got home late. I was working late," he stammers.

"You were working?"

"Eric asked if I could cover; I said yeah. I just thought we could use the extra cash."

"Jonathan, we've talked about this!"

"I know, I know!"

"You can't take shifts when I'm working!"

"Mom, it's not a big deal! Look, he was that the Wheelers' all day—"

"I can't believe you!"

"I'm sure he just stayed over!"

"I can't believe you sometimes." I grab the phone and call the Wheelers.

Karen answers, "Hello?"

"Hi, Karen, it's Joyce."

"Oh, Joyce, hi."

I hear voices in the background and Karen tells them to be quiet. "Sorry, it's just one of those mornings."

"Was that Will I heard back there?" I ask.

"Will? No, no, no, it's just Mike," she says.

"Will didn't spend the night?"

"No, he left here a little after eight. Why, he's not home?"

"Um, you know what? I think he just left early . . . for school," I make up an excuse. "Thank you so much." We say goodbye and hang up and I'm lost for ideas.

"Maybe he saw we weren't home and decided to spend the night at (Y/N)'s?" Jonathan says.

It's not a significant probability, but I'm desperate and worried at this point, so I dial the (Last/N)s' number.

(Y/N)
"(Y/N), can you get the phone?" Mom calls down to me from upstairs.

"Yeah, sure." I pick up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey, (Y/N), sweetie, it's Joyce. I was just wondering if Will spent the night with you?"

My cheeks heat at the thought of spending the night with Will. Oh, I wish.

"No, he dropped me off and rode home, as usual. . . . Why? Is he not there? Is he okay?" If something happened to Will . . .

"Yeah, I just . . . Actually, I think he just left early for school. Never mind. Bye."

"Bye. . . ." I hang up the phone, pure confusion washing over me. If she knew he left for school, why would she call me? Also, why would he leave for school? He knows I like to meet up with him and walk down with him, and he's not already waiting for me. . . .

Oh God, I think something's up.

.^.^.^.^.

I'm left to walk to school by myself, meeting up with the guys once there.

"Where is he?" Mike asks. Great. They haven't seen him, either?

"I don't know," I say.

"That's weird," he says.

"I'm telling you; his mom's right," Lucas says. "He probably just went to class early again."

"But he usually waits for me," I say. "And, hold on, his mom told you guys he came to school early, too?"

"Yeah, she called us, asking if Will stayed the night," Mike says. "My mom told her he didn't and she said he probably went to school early."

"Same happened to me. She must've called me after she did you or before but either way she was lying about thinking Will went to school early," I say. I bite my lip.

"Step right up, ladies and gentlemen," someone says from behind us, who I instantly—and unfortunately—recognize as Troy Harrington, followed by James. Awesome. My morning is getting better and better. "Step right up and get your tickets to the freak show. Who do you think would make more money in a freak show?" he asks James. "Midnight, Frogface, Toothless, or Pussywillow?" He punches each one of us, being his usual racist, sexist, and overall jerky bully-of-a-self.

James looks like he's carefully evaluating each one of us, and then says, "I'd go with Toothless," mimicking Dustin's voice. Hey, you know something? I actually think his teeth are cool. {I mean I have two big gaps where teeth were pulled back in January that haven't (fully) grown back yet, so I guess I'm pretty toothless, too (I used to be able to whistle out of one of the gaps lol)}.

"I told you a million times—my teeth are coming in!" Dustin says. "It's called cleidocranial dysplasia."

"I told you a million times," James says, still mimicking Dustin's medical problem, which is just plain disgusting. Which, so is James, so I guess it makes sense.

"Do the arm thing," Troy says.

"Do it, freak!" James pushes.

Dustin slips off his jacket and crosses his arms, popping them in an abnormal, yet awesome way. I don't understand how you could make fun of that. Being double-jointed would be so freaking cool.

The two boors act disgusted, and Troy says, "God, it gets me every time," before they both shove through us.

"Assholes," Lucas says plainly.

"I think it's kinda cool," Mike says to Dustin. "It's like you have superpowers or something."

"Yeah, my dude, I'd kill to be double-jointed," I say. "Well, not necessarily kill, but you get the idea."

"Maybe you could kill Troy and James and you would be," Dustin says. Now, them I might be willing to kill.

I let out a single laugh. "Yeah. And, Mike, I think your frog-like face is cute." His face turns a shade of pink. Oh God. I didn't mean it like that.

Did I?

Nancy
I walk into school and Barb meets up with me. "So, did he call?" she asks.

"Keep your voice down!" I shush her.

"Did he?" she asks again.

"I told you it's not like that," I say. "Okay, I mean, yes, he likes me, but not like that." We reach my locker. "We just . . . made out a couple times."

"'We just . . . made out a couple times,'" she mocks, and I can't help but smile. "Nance, seriously. You're gonna be so cool now, it's ridiculous."

"No, I'm not," I say, the smile not willing to leave my face.

"You better still hang out with me," she says. "That's all I'm saying. If you become friends with Tommy H. or Carol—"

"Oh, that's gross," I say, swinging my locker door open. "Okay, I'm telling you, it was a one-time . . ." She raises an eyebrow. "Two-time thing." As I look in my locker, I find a note from Steve.

Meet me. Bathroom
–Steve

"You were saying?" Barb asks.

That nasty smile returns to my face.

.^.^.^.^.

Steve pushes me against the wall, our lips connecting and disconnecting repeatedly and harshly. He kisses me down my neck.

"Steve . . . I have to go," I say.

"In a minute," he urges. I hear the bell ring and he pushes his lips against mine once more.

"Steve, I really, like . . . I really have to go."

He finally pulls away from me. "Wait, wait, wait, wait. Come on. Let's do something tonight, yeah?"

"Uh, no, I can't. I have to study for Kaminsky's test."

"Oh, come on. What's your GPA again? Three-point-nine-nine-nine . . ."

"Kaminsky's tests are impossible."

"Well, then, just let me help."

"You failed chem."

"C-minus."

"Well, in that case . . ."

"So, I'll be over around, say, like, eight?"

"Are you crazy? My mom would not—"

"I'll climb through your window. She won't even know I'm there. I'm stealthy. Like a ninja."

"You are crazy." I start to walk out but he stops me.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. Just . . . Okay, forget about that. We can just . . . We can just, like, chill in my car. We can find a nice, quiet place in the park."

"Steve, I have to study. I'm not kidding."

"Well, why do you think I want it to be nice and quiet?"

A smile creeps onto my face. "You're an idiot, Steve Harrington." I walk out but turn around to say, "Meet me at Dearborn and Maple at eight. To study."

Hopper
I pull into the police station, ready to start another long day.

"Good of you to show," my secretary says as I walk into the building.

"Oh, hey, mornin', Flo. Mornin', everybody," I slur. {Okay, but when he calls her "Flo" all I can think of is the damselfish from Finding Nemo.}

"Hey, Chief," Callahan says.

"Damn, you look like hell, Chief," Powell says.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I look better than your wife when I left her this morning." {Hopper's a fricking savage honestly.}

Powell laughs and Flo approaches me. "While you were drinking or sleeping, or whatever it is you deemed so necessary on Monday morning, Phil Larson called. Said some kids are stealing gnomes out of his garden again."

"Oh, those garden gnomes again," I mumble. "Well, I tell you what, I'm gonna get right on that." I stuff a bagel into my mouth.

"On a more pressing matter," Flo continues, "Joyce Byers can't find her son this morning." {I swear; Finding Nemo all over the place.}

"Mm, okay, I'm gonna get on that," I say, my voice muffled by the bagel, and I take a bite out of it. "Just give me a minute."

"Joyce is very upset," Flo says.

"Well, Flo, Flo, we discussed this," I cut her off, heading to my office. "Mornings are for coffee and contemplation."

"Chief, she's in your—"

"Coffee and contemplation, Flo!" I walk into my office to find Joyce Byers beat me to it.

So . . . I finally made it :) I hopes you likes it . . . s. . . . Yeah :)
So, I present to you a very complicated love triangle between you, Will, and Mike, and because I can't not, Eleven. So, I guess it's more of a love square or . . . quadrangle . . . so . . . I should probably stop saying "so" sometime soon. Anyway, I will be working on this a lot, prolly. But hopefully it won't interfere with my other fic. . . .
But I'm essited, regardless.
Welp, until next time :)