— CHAPTER 28 —
THE SNOW BALL

SATURDAY 15th DECEMBER,
1984

"HONEY, when I'm done with you, you're gonna look like the belle of the ball."

     Cath scoffs self-consciously at Peggy's comment, a blush splashing over her cheeks underneath the powder already applied there. Her aunt has been responsible for doing her hair and make-up, a reliable pair of hands since she previously worked at a hair salon. And the occasion? The Snow Ball — an annual school dance taking place in the winter, but this year is the most exciting one of all, because she has a date...

... Well, kind of. Not really. Technically she and the party are all going as friends, but that's still more of a commitment than all the other years, where Cath would try to have fun but end up alone. It's also a big deal because she gets to wear make-up, something her dad usually says no to until the girls hit a certain age. But tonight is an exception.

"Pucker your lips for me, sweetie, and hold still," says Peggy, and her niece obliges as she applies a generous layer of lip gloss.

"I don't know if I can pull off the made-up look..." Cath sighs, fidgeting in her seat.

"Of course you can! And actually, you're not even wearing that much. You don't need it. I'm just trying to enhance your natural features... alright, you're done. Let's have a look at you."

Peggy spins Cath around on the small stool they've squeezed into the bathroom, so that she's faced with her reflection — she can't help but gasp a little. Her hair has been lightly curled so it cascades in warm blonde waves down her shoulders and back. As for her face, there's a slight blush on her cheeks, a very pale shimmery sheen on her eyelids, and her lips tinted in a subtly pinker shade. Peggy is right; it's not too much, but it's tasteful (and enough to fly under her dad's radar).

"Wow..." Cath blurts out, rather pleased with the result.

"Wow is the right word, yes!" Peggy teases her, squeezing her shoulders. The girl stands up to her full height and takes in the look along with the dress she's wearing — a plaid pattern of deep, warm red, with black tights underneath and her shiniest Mary Janes. Her favourite item is the small golden chain around her neck, a miniature heart locket at her collarbone. It belonged to her mother, and while looking through her stuff, she's now inherited it for herself.

Suddenly Peggy's hand brushes over her stomach, and her niece instinctively whirls around to look at her eagerly. "Is the baby kicking?" she asks.

"For the fifth time, no. Not right now. Honestly..." her aunt shakes her head with a smile. If anyone is the most excited for this baby, it's Cath. When they first broke the news to the girls, she even offered up her bedroom as a nursery — Thomas quickly assured her that would not be necessary.

Now that they're ready, they head downstairs to get ready to go — but not before Cath makes a quick stop to her bedroom. On her bedside table, there is a framed photograph of her mother standing by a sunlit curtain with a gentle smile on her face. She has kept the one of them both, from the day she was born, hidden inside a drawer for safe keeping. But this framed photo is one she always has the heart to look at. Before she goes down, the girl kisses two fingertips and presses them to the glass covering the photograph.

As Cath reaches the bottom steps, she hears Peggy cry out: "Oh, photos! We need to take a photo so your dad can see!" Thomas is otherwise occupied at the Hawk right now, since Saturday is their busiest night; Daphne would usually be right there with him, but it's been trickier because of her arm in the sling. She doesn't have long left resigned to it, hoping for it to be off before Christmas.

After pouring some food for Ringo, Cath rushes into the living room. "Where do you want me to stand?"

"In front of the fire place, here, here... perfect," Peggy grins, squinting as she holds up the camera. "Smile!"

The girl obliges, watching polaroid after polaroid slip out from the camera. In the background, the radio station switches wildly between Band Aid and the new Christmas song by Wham!, both of which battle for the top spot. Cath subconsciously starts humming the one that plays right now, which has been cemented into her brain at this point — "Last Christmas, I gave you my heart, but the very next day, you gave it away..."

"Now some funny poses... Daphne, why don't you come in? Come on, it'll be fun! Smile, you two... do something with your hands, you look like you're sitting for your yearbook photo."

The sisters pull some various poses, until they swear their aunt has used the polaroid camera to death. Peggy makes a passing comment that one of them must be good, and Cath can't help but smile. She's going to be such a good mother. Already she can imagine Peggy's son or daughter in her place, posing awkwardly as their mother snaps endless photos for the school dance.

━━━━━━

"SO Cath, who's your date for the Snow Ball tonight?" Peggy asks cheekily from the driver's seat. The three of them have packed into their aunt's miniature Hillman Imp, the olive green car chugging up the hills. Daphne has snugly taken the front seat, giving Cath more room in the back to at least breathe.

"Oh, uh, not really anyone..." the thirteen year-old in the back blushes. "I'm going with my friends, as a group, we're all gonna meet there."

     "You're not hoping to ask a special someone to the dance floor?"

     "I– I don't think he'd say yes..."

     "Oh, so there is someone!"

     "It's Richard Mills, right?" Daphne asks cheekily, remembering her sister mentioning him a few times. Richard's so nice, or I let Richard copy my homework today, or Rob Lowe has lovely eyes... kind of like Richard. At this exposure, Cath turns even more bright red.

     "I had my first kiss at the Snow Ball," their aunt confesses proudly.

     Cath sits forward in the back seat. "You did?"

     "Snow Ball of 1962. Denny Foster. I was thirteen, just like you," Peggy pretends to recount the event with an ounce of romanticism. "We had been sitting together in Math. He took me behind the bleachers and gave me a big kiss on the mouth. But he was so tall, he practically had to bend at a right angle... but who knows, honey? Maybe you'll meet Mr. Right tonight... or hey, maybe you already have!"

     The very notion makes Cath cough and splutter, having choked on her own spit with shock.

     Now having fun with the idea of nostalgia, Daphne casts her mind back, deciding to choose the same age as Cath is right now. The Snow Ball, 1978 — what a night. The DJ practically blasted the entire soundtrack of 'Grease' half the time. Since Middle School holds most of her worst childhood memories, there are some things Daphne would rather block out. Things like hiding in the bathroom cubicle, knowing she was missing out as 'Sultans of Swing' was muffled through the walls, but she would rather hide from her bullies. Then there are better things, like when she and Amy decided to go wild on the dance floor to Blondie, or when she swore her crush (not yet Felix) looked her way...

     She suddenly realises how far away that will all be soon. Next December, she won't be here to help Cath get ready for a school dance, or to tease her about a crush. Fingers crossed, she should be at college. Still... it's a strange thought.

     The Hillman Imp is next in the flood of parents dropping off their kids, who run excitedly into the gym adorned with winter party decorations. Cath suddenly waves enthusiastically out of the window, and only then does Daphne notices Will Byers standing on the steps. He immediately grins and waves back — he's tidied himself up rather nicely, wearing a small tie underneath the knitted tank top.

     "Alright, so we'll come get you in an hour? Maybe two?" Peggy suggests, and the girl nods. "But you know the Hawk's just around the corner if you get bored. Now, remember... party hard, think later."

     "Peggy!" Cath chuckles nervously, as if she's the type least likely to party hard.

     "Just have fun, alright? And go sweep Richard off his feet!"

     Daphne can't help but snort as she sees her little sister's life flash before her eyes — not that she'd react any different, if her aunt name-dropped her crush to the entire Hawkins Middle population. She's already been down that kind of road before... but Cath recovers quickly, running up the steps to greet Will. They have the sweetest of exchanges, as she bobs her knees in a bashful curtsy, while he returns with a little half-bow. Then they link arms and run inside the gym.

     "Hey Peg, I might stay here and get some fresh air," says Daphne, before the Hillman Imp speeds off again.

     "Sure thing," Peggy replies. "But don't forget your tickets for later!"

     "I won't, I won't..."

     Daphne gets out and watches the Hillman Imp rumble down the road, left only with the stars above and the bustle of younger kids. She remembers when she was that young and wide-eyed about the world — and she still is, in a way. But she has also seen a lot... and so has Cath. Both of them know more about the dangers than they would like. Even if it's over, the lab closed, Tonya and Barb in the ground, and the Shadow Monster long since purged from Will, the marks the whole ordeal left remain.

     But she doesn't want to think about that right now. She wants to watch the scene that unfolds after standing in the car park for a ten minutes, which involves Steve Harrington's familiar BMW and whoever his passenger is. When the dropped-off kid steps out though, Daphne widens her eyes and laughs. Dustin Henderson is sporting the biggest hairdo she's seen, maybe even challenging Steve's, his curls fashioned into a ridiculously tall quiff. He proudly straightens his tie and the grey suit jacket that's a little too big in the shoulders, before jogging up the steps ready to party...

     And then there's Steve. She remembers when all the girls wanted to dance with him at the Snow Ball, whispering and giggling whenever he was in their vicinity. Now the tables have turned — he's the one looking in through the glass, watching the girl he knows he cannot dance with. Daphne connects the dots pretty quickly, from his forlorn face to the view of Nancy chaperoning inside. She and Jonathan have officially started dating now, and thinking of herself as the humble third wheel and wingman, Daphne could not be happier for them.

     But, that still leaves Steve. She watches him drive to the car park around the back of the school, and he just sits there. Momentarily, she wonders if it would be best to leave him alone. Eventually Daphne decides against it — she strolls over from the brick walls of the gym, meandering past the other cars to his BMW. With her good hand, she knocks gingerly on his window, and he reacts. Steve instantly reaches out to roll down the window, a half-smile tugging his lips; thankfully his face has healed nicely, perhaps with a couple of scars if you look really closely... maybe the Harringtons really do have thick skulls.

     "You're on chauffeur duty too?" she asks.

     "Yeah," Steve sighs, pretending to be bugged about it. "I don't even remember offering, Dustin just showed up in my car reeking of Farrah Fawcett spray."

     Daphne squeezes her eyes shut and laughs. "Oh God..."

     "You wanna come in? It's cold out there."

     After a moment's thought, she accepts. Steve unlocks the car and she slides into the passenger seat, getting used to the leather seats and the warmth of the BMW. He is right — there is definitely a lingering after-scent of Farrah Fawcett in here. But the question is, who does it really belong to?

     Nevertheless, it's nice to be here with him, alone. They haven't really had that since they talked in the hospital. When they got back to school, it was surprisingly easy to fall back into their old ways — he was the popular guy, she was the uncool hippie. But still, there was a difference now. King Steve had lost his crown, but he still had Daphne cheering him on. So there would be smaller exchanges instead; little smiles in the hallway and at lockers, or quick small talk in the parking lot after school, until the self-awareness they were being watched hurried them back into their cliques.

     But not now. Right here, it's just them, the stars outside, and... Farrah Fawcett. 

     Slipping a hand under the sleeve of his maroon sweater, Steve nods down to the omnipresent sling. "How's the wrist?" he asks.

     "Getting better. One more week and I'm out of the sling," Daphne sighs, forever grateful to retrieve the function of both hands again. "I'm so ready to get back to normal... some kind of normal, anyway."

     "Yeah..." Leaning back in his seat, Steve adds, "I mean, for one thing, just after that fight... I don't think I've looked Billy in the eye since we got back to school. And neither has he. It's pretty awkward actually."

     "You're telling me. His locker's next to mine."

     "Yikes. Well, at least we have Max to protect us, that little firecracker..."

     Daphne chuckles with him, but can't help feeling bittersweet about it. The whole ordeal spoke volumes about the Hargrove-Mayfield household, and none of it was very pleasant. It had been great to see Max stand up to her stepbrother's cruelty, but that obviously didn't make her home life any easier. She doesn't know whether Cath has the whole story, but she must have some sort of inkling. Max has already visited the Delaneys once or twice after school, if nothing else for a less tense dinner. Daphne certainly feels a certain protectiveness over the girl, having seen what she has.

     She opens her mouth to change the subject, but Steve beats her to it: "Hey, have you heard back from that writing competition yet? Weren't they supposed to announce the winners yesterday?"

     Oh yeah... that. Daphne brushes a hand through her hair, pushing the feathered fringes back. Next to her, Steve starts doing a pretend drum-roll on his lap, which makes her giggle. Trying to be as modest as possible, she thins her lips into a disappointed expression, pretending it's bad news. And then...

     "... First place," she murmurs.

     He looks like he just won the lottery, and he didn't even enter. "Holy shit. You're serious? Daphne, that's awesome!"

"I know, I know..." Groaning self-consciously, her face falls into her hands — she can hardly believe it herself. It had definitely been a difficult journey, through which Daphne resorted to typing the whole thing one-handed on the typewriter... and it wasn't just a single draft either. At the cost of late nights and her family's sanity, she got it submitted, and yesterday she got the mind-boggling news that she had won.

     "Aren't you excited?" Steve asks incredulously.

"No, I am, I really am, it's just weird," she confesses. "Like... people are gonna read that across the whole state. Plus, Mr. Hauser wants me to do a little interview for the school newspaper, and he even said the Hawkins Post might talk about it in one of their columns."

"And that's great! You're town-famous."

"I know, and I hate it!"

"Look, there isn't anything wrong with people knowing your name. That's kinda the whole point. And especially if you're talented... unlike some of us," Steve says, gesturing to himself in a self-deprecating way. She shoots him a sympathetic look, which he ignores. "So, now you're filthy rich, what're you doing with the money?"

"College. Definitely." Daphne falls back in her seat, mulling that thought over. She really is one step closer to getting out of this place. 1985 is going to be her year. Her head lulls to face Steve's side as she asks, "Speaking of which, how's your application going? I've... been meaning to ask."

Steve hisses through gritted teeth, like the thought pains him slightly. "It's... going. I sent it off the other day. I guess it's very 'me', but I'm still not sure whether that's a good thing or not."

"It is a good thing. I'm proud of you."

He flinched then, shooting her a slightly startled look. It's almost as if he as never been told those words before — I'm proud of you. But she means them. Still, it creates an awkward silence between them, so Daphne tries to steer the subject to something else. "So, um..." she starts out, "are you waiting here for Dustin all night?"

"That wasn't the plan, but... I don't know what else I'm gonna do," Steve shrugs. "What about you?"

"I was gonna go catch a movie."

A beat passes. She squints at him.

"Have you seen 'Beverly Hills Cop' yet?" When he shakes his head, she smiles hopefully. "I think you'd like it. And, I mean, you can't go wrong with Eddie Murphy. I've already seen it twice."

"... What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, it starts in about fifteen minutes and, you know, if we went now we could kill some time before the Snow Ball is over."

"Alright, sure, but you can't just magic some tickets up out of nowhere—"

Slowly, Daphne reveals a pair of tickets for 'Beverly Hills Cop' from her jacket pocket, holding them up a little shyly. "Uh, they were originally for my dad and his sister, but they're busy tonight, so..." she trails off and shrugs, secretly crossing her fingers for a yes. In truth, she had immediately thought of him when seeing the movie, and took the plunge in buying him a ticket. Just in case. Steve observes the tickets curiously, glances at her, then shakes his head with a smile as he plucks one from her hand.

After he locks his car, the two slowly start strolling along. The December air nips at their skin, leaving them rosy and rubbing their hands for warmth — it helps that they need to get moving if it starts in fifteen minutes, especially if it's a Saturday night. When they're about halfway there, Steve suddenly pipes up, "I'm not sure I made the best impression on your folks at the Hawk... you know, with the whole graffiti thing..."

"Oh, that's water under the bridge," Daphne dismisses him with a wave. "They appreciated that you owned up to it... no, I think they might remember you more for something else. Or at least I do."

"What?" he asks curiously, shoving his hands into his pockets.

She pauses. Then she bites back a grin at the memory, her breath misting before her. "We must've been in Kindergarten. 'Charlotte's Web' was playing. You were a few rows in front of me, and I remember your mom had to drag you out halfway through the movie, because you just started bawling. Like, sobbing so hard that no one else could hear a thing."

"I... well..." Steve rubs the nape of his neck, embarrassed. "I mean, give me a break, I was what? Six? And, you know, it– it's a sad movie. I think it's normal to cry at that part—"

"Charlotte hadn't even died yet!"

Giving up on excuses, Steve bursts into contagious laughter. The rest of the way to the Hawk, they dip between chatter and comfortable silence, even as they have to queue out in the cold and run to their seats after salvaging some popcorn. Some money well-spent, Daphne thinks, feeling the shape of the movie tickets in her pocket...

━━━━━━

THE gym has been decorated with paper snowflakes, shiny streamers and balloons of silver and blue. All the tables are at round the rim of the room, while the middle is an explosion of Middle Schoolers dancing wildly together. At one table sits the party, Cath's seat tucked between Max and Will. Between sharing cheese and pineapple sticks, she listens to Lucas's tales of his annoying little sister, pays attention as Max describes various skateboarding tricks, and chats to Will about everything in-between. It's easy to talk about anything with him. Only two empty seats remain at the table.

There is no place Cath would rather be right now.

While she is in the middle of humming Olivia Newton-John's 'Twist of Fate' the DJ is blasting, a vision of ridiculously tall hair moves towards their table. The crowds part to reveal Dustin Henderson, doing a dramatic little twirl to show off his new look. He is rather proud, but the rest of the kids are baffled and incredulous. Everyone stands up from their seats to get a better view.

"Holy shit, what happened to you?" Mike exclaims first.

"What d'you mean, what happened?" Dustin questions innocently.

"What?!"

"Dude!" Lucas scoffs.

"Your hair," Max laughs, squinting at in disbelief.

Reaching to massage the hair-sprayed sculpture, Lucas teases, "Is there a bird nesting in there—"

"No, what do you– there's nothing wrong with my hair, and there's no bird nesting in here," Dustin huffs defiantly, before patting the sides of his hair gingerly. "I worked hard..."

"Well," says Cath mid-laugh, "I think it looks great."

With an abrupt record scratch, the music suddenly switches from 'Twist of Fate' to Cyndi Lauper's 'Time After Time' in a whiplash of atmosphere. A slow song. And with it, the kids on the dance floor adjust themselves accordingly, grabbing a partner and starting to sway slowly to the music. Cath's brain grows fuzzy with the idea of it, as the crowd parts a little to reveal Richard talking to some girl.

Lucas is the first to make a move. He glances over at Max, puffing out his chest slightly as he plucks up the courage to ask her to dance. Cath can't help but smile — she knows how much he has grown to like her, and perhaps unbeknownst to him, how much Max likes him too. A little while ago, Lucas dragged her out into the hallway to practice with 'an actual girl' how he should ask his crush to the dance floor. Not that she is an expert in any way, but Cath simply went with how she'd want to be asked.

"Max," he starts off, his breath hitching when she whirls around to face him. "Hey, um... it's nice, right? The lights, the—"

"Are you trying to ask me to dance, stalker?" Max interrupts him.

"No... of course not!" Lucas plays it cool, Cath sighing next to him, "Unless– unless you want to..."

"Wow, so smooth."

Still, he seems to have won her over. Max immediately grabs his hand and pulls him eagerly onto the dance floor. Under the shifting lights, their faces light up as they wrap their arms around each other, gently swaying into a comfortable rhythm. Oh, they definitely like each other, Cath thinks fondly. The next turn of events comes as a complete surprise:

     "Hey, Zombie Boy!"

     A girl walks over to their group, and the name at first makes Cath go on the defensive. She starts taking a small step forward, prepared to protect Will from a potential bully, when the plot twist comes — the girl's face softens and she asks, "Do you wanna dance?"

     Cath's jaw drops a little, absolutely delighted for him. Will, however, isn't so sure. He starts stammering on the spot: "I don't... I– I'm not..." he says, while Mike nudges him incredulously, and so does Cath. Eventually he caves in and replies, "I– I mean yeah... yeah, sure." So he follows the mystery girl onto the dance floor, their postures a little more wooden as they slow dance next to Lucas and Max.

     Through a gap in the crowd, Cath suddenly notices Richard by the punch table... and alone? Really? She finds it hard to believe no girl has asked him to dance yet, but surely enough, there is is by himself during a slow dance song. Adrenaline starts pumping through her body at a dizzying speed. Her mind has an immediate back-and-forth: Now is your chance. No, there's no way I'm making a fool of myself. How do you know if you don't try? I know because of common sense—

     "Hey, look Cath, Richard's alone..." Dustin eggs her on, mimicking kissing noises.

     "I know, I know," she blurts out, suddenly feeling a little sick at that thought.

     "Well I'm going in," he announces with a wink and finger guns. "Good luck, you guys."

     Dustin disappears with a flourish, and for a moment Cath is distracted by who he's picked for his dance — Stacy Albright of all people. Stacy? He's just setting himself up for disappointment, she fears. Sadly, she is right. When Dustin offers her a hand to dance, she sees Stacy wrinkle her nose and reply "Ew, no thanks," before she and her friend group leave the scene. Among the group is Pamela, of all people, and for an unwanted moment Cath catches her gaze; she throws it away the first chance she gets. Some of the popular kids in school just think they can rule the world.

     But then there's Richard...

     "Look, are you going over, or not?" Mike asks, having seen her stand like a statue for the last thirty seconds.

     "I am... am not, or I'm– ugh, screw it," Cath eventually caves in.

     Sucking in a deep breath, she just decides to take the plunge. Every step she takes closer, moving past the couples dancing together, only makes her even more anxious — especially when she realises he is still alone the moment she gets there. Richard is striking up a conversation with one of the teacher chaperones. Oh God, he's so perfect, Cath thinks, before shaking her head. Come on, focus...

     "Richard," she says at first, but he can't hear her little murmur over the music. Coughing, she says it again: "Richard!"

     This time he notices. Whirling around to find who said his name, she suddenly finds herself staring into his eyes for a few seconds too long. "Oh, hey Cath!" Richard smiles at her, and she swears she melts a little. "You look nice tonight."

     "I do? I– I mean thanks," Cath blushes beetroot red. "And so do you... I, um... I like your tie."

     At the mention of it, Richard holds out the Christmas tie fastened smartly at his collar — it is emblazoned with dozens of tiny little Santas and his reindeer. "It's kinda cool, isn't it?" he chuckles.

     "Very... festive."

     "I got it for Christmas last year from my great aunt. I'm still not sure whether I like it or not."

     Both of them laugh this time, and Cath has to scream internally. CODE RED: You are talking and laughing with Richard Mills. And no, you have not died and gone to heaven. This is actually happening. A little silence peters out between them, but he still hasn't walked off somewhere else, continuing to be engaged in the conversation. She can't lose him now. This is her chance. Come on, you can do this...

     "Richard?"

     "Yeah?"

     "Do you wanna—"

     "Hey Richard," says another girl suddenly, butting in with another cup of punch. "Are we gonna dance or what?"

     Oh no...

     "Yep, I'm ready," he chirps back, placing his cup down. "Have a good night, Cath. Oh, and merry Christmas!"

     Oh NO...

     "Yeah... you too..." Cath trails off, barely even able to hear her own voice. Stranded at the side-lines, she watches Richard and the girl meander onto the middle of the dance floor. 'Time After Time' continues to play sweetly over the speakers, like salt rubbed in the wound.

     She loves this song, and the only thing that could have beaten having it played, would've been if she and Richard were dancing to it right now. She almost had him... or did she? Had he already agreed to dance with the other girl, and she was wasting her breath? Cath does the walk of shame back to the table, her head bowed low to hide her embarrassment. Mike is still sat there as she slumps into the chair next to him.

"So... how'd it go?" he asks, wringing his hands together.

"How do you think it went?" Cath sighs, stabbing a pineapple cube and eating it in frustration. "He already had someone to dance with. I'm pretty sure I blacked out. I just wasted so much time standing there, and then... I think I complimented his tie?"

"If you're lost, you can look, and you will find me time after time..."

The gentle Cyndi Lauper song sweeps through the gym, making the couples on the dance floor sway like reeds by a river. Lucas and Max get lost in each other, Richard makes the girl he's dancing with laugh, and Will tries bobbing his head to the music with his partner... and, naturally, Cath is an observer. Tonight is not her night. But at least, so far, it doesn't seem to be Mike's either — the question of whether El will show is up in the air. There had been discussions of letting her out one night for the Snow Ball, however Cath isn't sure whether an actual conclusion was reached. For now, he's stuck with her at the sidelines.

Of course, not all those on the dance floor are couples. A trio of faces Cath recognises as some of Andrea's new friends — well, not new, she already hung out with them a little before. But she had asked them earlier on whether she was coming to the Snow Ball, since she had a late fourteenth birthday gift for her. However, her friends answered that Andrea was supposed to come, but they think something came up last minute. They did agree to pass the gift on, which Cath appreciated.

Still... she misses her friend. If all tensions were gone, she could imagine Andrea busting her moves on the dance floor, and there was every guarantee she would have dragged all of the Party with her. That girl knew how to have fun.

"Watchin' through windows, you're wondering if I'm okay..."

"What's up?" asks Mike.

"I was just... thinking about Andrea, I guess."

"I'm sure she'll come around."

"It's all my fault," Cath sighs, fiddling with an empty plastic cup. "I should've realised how she was feeling and done something."

"Hey, this is no one's fault, alright? Don't be so hard on yourself..." Mike pulls his chair closer to her, so they aren't a ridiculous distance apart. It's like their own little corner separated from the swooning couples in the middle. "Besides," he says, "you're not alone. You have us."

"That's true," she hums, glancing fondly at him.

"You still have your Supercom, right?"

"Of course."

"That's a start. And maybe... if we entered the Science Fair this year, you could join us."

"Somewhere in Vermont, Sandy Brooks is fuming at that idea," Cath deadpans. But then she can't help break a smile, and Mike also chuckles at the image. It was only a year ago, but her life with that friendship feels like an eternity ago.

"Then we could teach you how to play D&D," Mike suggests. "I'd probably pick a Cleric for you myself, but we already have Will. We have been thinking we could use a Druid on our team though."

"What's a Druid?"

A spark of excitement lights up Mike's eyes, the kind that appears when he has an opportunity to nerd out about something. He turns his chair to face her more, the legs squeaking against the floor slightly, and Cath giggles at his eagerness. That's something she has learned from being his friend — have no shame in whatever your quirky interests are, because they are part of who you are. She understands nothing about Dungeons & Dragons, but she tries her best to listen as he explains in great detail:

"Alright, so in D&D you have these character classes. For example, I'm our Paladin, Will's our Cleric, Dustin's our Bard and so on. Now, Druids are healers — kind of like Clerics — but they're also spell casters, more like protectors of nature. They're all about preserving the balance in nature and making sure people live in harmony with it. Oh, and if you wanted to, you could even shape-shift into different animals, depending on the battle, which is super cool..."

     Mike pauses, checking that he hasn't lost Cath along the way. She is trying to listen and understand, but the level of detail and dedication that goes into D&D sounds daunting to her, and she isn't entirely sure she would be fun to play with. Still, the boy sighs and tries to take a different angle.

     "Anyway, Druids... they're really important," he explains, softening his tone a little bit. "We'll help you figure it out, don't worry about it."

     "I'll take your word for it," Cath smiles. "Druid it is."

     "If you're lost, you can look, and you will find me time after time..."

     Mike nods, looking out to the crowd; his face suddenly contorts into one of distaste. "Is Dustin dancing with my sister?"

     Indeed, he is right — to save him the tragedy of being partnerless at the school dance, Nancy has stepped in to take Dustin to the dance floor. The boy cannot hide his elation as he gets to dance with Mike's sister, while Stacy and all the other girls who rejected him earlier seem jealous. Who's missing out now? Cath grins from ear to ear, as Mike groans.

     "Oh, come on, it's sweet!" she nudges him gently. "And Nancy's cool. One day you'll agree with me."

     But then Cath notices something else. She spots Will alone by the bleachers, his dance partner also nowhere to be found. What happened? She asks this exact question to Mike: "Hey, where did Will's partner go? I swear they were here a minute ago."

     "I don't know. I don't see her anywhere."

     "I'm gonna go check on Will, just to make sure..." Cath stands up, taking a few steps in his direction. Then she suddenly stops, pivoting on her heel to face Mike sitting alone. "Wait, are you sure you'll be okay?"

     "What do you mean?"

     "Alone, I mean. I don't want you to think I'm ditching you."

     With an endeared shake of his head, Mike waves her off. "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Go have fun. Go on, go!"

     "If you fall, I will catch you, I will be waiting time after time..."

     Cath takes his instructions with a little smile, before disappearing into the crowd of couples again. She weaves through the labyrinth of Middle Schoolers until she reaches Will on the other side, who is just watching everyone dance from afar. "Hey there," Cath says at a normal volume, which somehow still startles him. But once he realises it's her, he lights up.

     "Oh, hey," he greets her back.

     "Where did your partner go?"

     "I kind of... left her," Will admits sheepishly, before going on to explain. "Well, to be honest, she looked a little bored so I just said I was going to the bathroom, and when I came out she was gone."

     "I'm sorry," Cath frowns.

     But he actually seems kind of relieved. "I'm actually kind of glad I got out of there. It wasn't her fault or anything. I mean, she's nice and all, but her arms were so stiff, and I was just sweating, and neither of us were talking... I was dying a little on the inside."

     Both of them giggle at the image. When the Phil Collins song fades out, Cath is half-expecting a more upbeat one to come on, but the second ballad in a row comes on — 'Every Breath You Take' by The Police — and at this point, she suspects the DJ is just trying to rub in her failure to dance with Richard.

     "How many back-to-back slow songs does this DJ have?" Will asks incredulously, thinking the same thing.

     "I know, right?" Cath says. "I love a good ballad, but come on..."

     "Maybe he's feeling loved-up tonight."

     "If he is, it's a shame your dance partner didn't stick around, right?"

     "Yeah, I guess," Will suddenly chuckles nervously, before coughing it out into his fist. Huh. Weird. The two of them stare out at the couples for a few moments, Cath wistfully watching Richard Mills dance with another girl. She can't imagine anyone who would have picked her as their first choice to dance tonight.

     But then, as if by a miracle, she hears the timid voice next to her say:

     "Well, you're the only girl I wanna dance with tonight."

     It takes Cath a second to realise Will is talking to her. She whirls around to face him, as if to say, Really? Me? He just nods, swallowing thickly and giving her a small smile. Before she knows it, he is shyly extending his hand out to her, like an open invitation. "... Do you wanna dance?" he asks with a shrug.

     She can barely hide her glee as she slips her hand into his. "I'd love to," she replies.

     For another time tonight, Cath returns to the dance floor, but this time with a partner. Will leads her right to the middle of the dance floor, streamers and balloons obscuring the ceiling above them. Their hands hover for a moment, unsure of what to do, until Will places his hands on her waist and she wraps her arms around his shoulders — a slightly awkward position at first, since she is a little taller than him, but she figures it out. The pair then begin to sway gently with the music.

     "Every bond you break, every step you take, I'll be watching you..."

     "Sorry if this old-fashioned," Will apologises as they dance. "I practised with my mom, and she says this is the way to do it."

    "We're just swaying side-to-side, I think this is pretty standard," Cath replies, relaxing into the hold now. "But I do like old-fashioned..."

     She casts a glance around the dance floor, getting a good look at all the couples here. Through the crowd, she spots Mike meandering into the centre with... hang on... Eleven! She has put little clips into her brown curls, with some light make-up and a pretty blue and pink dress. Across the dance floor, El and Cath clock each other, managing a small wave as they sway with their partners.

     "I should probably thank her," Will sighs when she turns back. "She's done so much for me, like you guys, and I've never even–"

     "She wanted to do it. We all did."

     Will bows his head to the floor, lost in thought for a moment. Cath tilts hers down a little too, trying to search him for any signs of sadness or dejection. "Are you happy?" she suddenly asks him. And she doesn't mean now, but after everything. These days, she finds him worrying about him constantly at the slightest sign of ailment or being down.

     "Every smile you fake, every claim you stake, I'll be watching you..."

     He looks up, smiles quickly, and nods his head. "Yeah, I am. Are you happy?"

     "... I'm starting to be," Cath replies.

     The chorus of 'Every Breath You Take' kicks into action, the musical build-up releasing a splash of courage on the dance floor. Just as Cath steals a glance at Lucas and Max, she catches a moment that sucks a gasp out of her — Max quickly leans in and plants a kiss on his lips. His lips. Lucas seems stunned, eyes popping open wide, but he smiles once he sees how happy the girl in his arms is. She pulls him close into an embrace, his face dazed and triumphant over her shoulder. He got the girl. Cath looks elsewhere, and catches Mike and El mid-kiss too. When they break away, they shyly touch foreheads and continue swaying. It's all like a chain reaction.

     What is happening right now?

     Then she remembers Peggy's words about her first kiss at the Snow Ball. Wait...

     Gulping awkwardly, Cath looks back at Will, who suddenly looks a little pale. She glances at his lips reluctantly, as if to ask, Are we supposed to do that too?

     He gives his answer in the most creative way possible. Out of nowhere, Will throws her out from his body, holding onto her hand as he twirls her around a couple of times. Then after a blur of blue and silver, Cath finds herself pulled back into his body again with a soft thump. Her jaw goes completely slack as she searches his stunned hazel eyes for an explanation.

     "... It's what's happening!" Will finally blurts out.

Cath just throws her head back with a laugh. Grinning, she pulls him in for a hug, and they continue swaying. It's safe to say she does not see Will that way, and neither does he. What a relief. And actually, in this moment, she is glad she is dancing with him more than anyone. Even over Richard, she thinks she might pick Will Byers. They start having fun with the rest of the song — bobbing their heads a little too hard for a slow dance, eventually free-styling in slow motion while everyone else sways around him. Cath could live in this moment forever.

Everything is fine, she thinks.

And Cath realises, for the first time in while, that she believes herself.

━━━━━━

A/N;

so... that's it?! HUH?? honestly the end of this story has come rather suddenly, i haven't quite processed it yet, but at the same time i'm glad to have finished it now. i've had a lot of free time where there's just been nothing on my agenda, and i was feeling inspired, so i told myself "screw it. try and write as much as you can!" and now here we are. AHHHHH–

side note, the snow ball is one of my favourite sequences from the whole show, so i was so excited to write this! hope it didn't come across too cheesy. loved throwing in as many 80s references as i could though, from music to movies, hehehe... although my apologies to any D&D experts if my descriptions were wrong, i'm clueless about the and google made me none the wiser 😭 (also cath is so much braver than me, i never even considered asking my crush to dance, it was just out of the question! was way too shy for that). either way, will and cath dancing as the besties they are made me very happy 🥰 i love their friendship so much.

i'm definitely in the mood to move onto season three now, as much as i've loved writing this book. i'm ready to write a new time of year, some new POVs and build on some of the relationships and characters i've fleshed out over the first two fics.

thank you for reading this book and the support along the way! it means the whole world. i hope you guys enjoyed reading whistleblower as much as i enjoyed writing it! (p.s. i noticed this book has just hit 4K reads?! talk about great timing! thank you so much once again ❤️❤️❤️)

— Imogen

[ Published: January 8th, 2023 ]