February 14th, 1989 (10:30pm)

"Come on, ladies. Gas is 'a burning. Time is 'a wasting. Stop making out on the porch and get in the damn car – we don't have all night." As if his voice wasn't obnoxious enough, Dustin just hadto pair his yapping with a blaring honk after each sentence. That was the sight that greeted the two girls, as they locked up the Hargrove-Mayfield resident: Dustin Henderson perched over the center console from the back seat, his ass practically attached to Will's disgusted face and his broccoli hair to Lucas', to reach the steering wheel's horn. And of-fucking-course, all four windows were down. Had it not been for El running towards Lucas' Station Wagon, Max would've swiveled right back into her house, promises be damned. "I need to get there beforeall the alc is sucked dry by those filthy leeches."

"Would you pipe the fuck down, Henderson? I do have neighbors, you know? I'm gonna kick your ass if Old Man Shinsky sets his rabid watchdogs on me again." Max threatened as she begrudgingly slid into passenger's seat. Not sparing Lucas even a glance, her seatbelt just barely clicked its lock when she immediately twisted around to hound on Dustin once more: "And who's fucking fault is it that we're gonna be late? How long did it take for you to glue some pubes on your balls this time, huh? I heard Jennifer likes them hairy."

"Almost as long as it took for you to pluck your five o'clock shadow. Jesus Max, your razor is dulling. Maybe we should stop at a 7/11, Lucas." Dustin croaked, the laughter spilling out of his lips cut short as Lucas made a particularly sharp turn.

"I don't have time for either of you wastoids' bullshit." Lucas grumbled, his comment provoking a seething look from Max. The black teen merely rolled his eyes at her childish antics and stepped harder on the gas pedal; trust Max to manipulate a joke for her little vendetta.

"Do we have time to stop by Bradley's Big Buy?" El chimed in sweetly, grabbing Lucas' attention.

"You hungry, El?" Lucas asked, his mind already beginning to calculate the fastest route to Big Buy. She's been without some Eggo's for a while, he surmised. Best to get some while they were all still sober.

"I thought you said you were full, babe?" Max asked, confusion painted in her voice. They had a pizza party earlier, courtesy of her step-father's asshole money. With wings, of course. El said the taste reminds her of squirrel meat; how that is more comforting than triggering, Max will never know.

"I am," El hastily confirmed, not wanting the Party to worry. She felt like a ditz for not remembering earlier, since now they might be even more late to Troy's, but Hopper always said: "but shouldn't we bring something to the party? Maybe chips? You know, to say thank you for having us?"

It was silent for a second, as everyone processed El's words. Had this question been posed years ago, when they all first met, perhaps Dustin might've chortled patronizingly, or Lucas might've tauntingly asked: "Is she serious right now?" But they were all too close for that immature bullshit, these days. And too old.

"Hm," Will started instead, his tone lacking an ounce of mockery as he seriously considered her idea "definitely for another type of party, we should. But not this one, these guys don't expect anyone to bring anything-

"I mean, they're rich as fuck, they should pay me,for even showing up…" El caught Dustin's mutterings.

"-they just want everyone to have a good time." Will finished, his words placating El's worries. She sighed in relief, grateful that she was in such capable hands who knew all the social scenes, despite not actively participating in it; she would've been so upset if she accidentally fucked this up over a bag of chips.

"And trust me, El, this ain't like Mrs. Sinclair's Sunday dinner parties. No one's going to be eating, at all." Max assured her.

"More like drinking away their misery." Dustin hiccuped, making a motion of tipping his head back and downing some imaginative beer.

"Are you sure you don't want food El? We're gonna stay there for at least three hours." Lucas asked again, his brown eyes catching El's matching ones in the rear view mirror. She shook her head in decline, a thankful smile on her pink lips. "I'm good, Lucas. Thank you."

"Speaking of bringing shit!" Dustin hollered, grabbing everyone's attention. "Mama Dustin got you a present, pretty-Elly."

"'Mama Dustin?'" Max repeated, unimpressed, as Dustin made a show of diving to the car floor to grab at a Radioshack bag that laid forgotten by Will's feet.

"He's buzzed." Will clarified in the same unimpressed tone, as Dustin yanked Will's ankles aside, "Fuckin' move your feet, will you Byers? I'm gonna have to start calling you 'Big Feet, Small Dick Byers,' again."

"Do that and I'll raid your porn magazines and feed them to Tews, again." Will threatened, moving his feet nonetheless.

"Ha! I moved my mags already, that will never happen again." Dustin bragged, his eyes practically shining as he passed the plastic bag to El's lap.

"Really? Want to bet?" Will baited, smirking cheekily.

"Yes, I'll bet you five shots, you'll never find them."

"You're on." Will agreed, instantaneously whipping his body towards the driver seat. "Lucas, where's his stash hidden now?"

Just as instantly, Lucas supplied: "Behind his desk with Yertle's tank."

"Thanks, man-

"What the fuck, Lucas?" Dustin wailed, affronted, his eyes darting around the car in bewilderment: Will, that smug bastard, had an annoying 'I-told-you-so' look that made Dustin want to frog him in his pretty-boy face; El was looking at him in amazement, as if she would've never guessed that spot had it not been for Lucas' blurting; Max, in all her bitchiness, did not even try to hold in her snickers; and Lucas, the fucking ultimate traitor, looked unflinchingly at the road. "How the Hell could you possibly know that? Do you fucking spy on me, you Peepin' Tom?"

"No. And that's such a disturbing accusation. Like I'd take anytime out of my day to watch you romance your right hand."

"Then, how do you know?!" Dustin demanded, ready to leap over the console again.

"Your mom told me-

"My mom?!" Dustin cried, fucking horrified. Max's laughter doubled.

"She found them, like two weeks ago, and she called me to tell me the news." Lucas explained, his tone so casual that one might've thought he was talking about groceries.

"What news? That I'm about to escape to Kentucky because the lady who birthedme knows I yank off to Playboy?!"

"Kentucky? Really, Dustin?" Will interrupted, disapprovingly. "At least head to Ohio. Their chili is so wicked."

"Fine, Ohio. Anywhere but fucking Hawkins."

"Chill out, Dustin." Lucas told him "It's not a big deal, she was so excited when she called. Said she was glad she found 'em 'cause she was starting to worry, since you never brought any girls home." By the end of his explanation, chuckles started to spill out, extorting his casual tone, as the humor of the situation began to sink in. Even El began giggling at Dustin's misfortune.

"Alright first of all," At that, everyone in the car, save El, groaned simultaneously. Dustin only ever used those words when he was 'bout to spiel. "Oh shut up, dickheads, this won't take long. Okay what was I saying? Oh yeah- first of all- ain't nothing wrong with being gay – love you, Will – so that's lame she had a cow about me being into chicks. And second of all, why didn't you cover for me? Or at least tell me, when it happened. I've been walking around my house unaware that I was defamed! Slandered! My good name-

"You're such a little drama queen," Max cut in "as if we all didn't know you're a horn-dog that loves two-dimensional women."

"Hey! I resent that! Simone Eden is more three-dimensional than you'll ever be, Maxine."

"That doesn't even make sense…" Will critiqued, always the technical one. "And you still owe me five shots later, Dustin."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's just drop this before I need us to turn to the nearest Church so I can douse myself in Holy Water. God knows I need the Lord's guidance more than ever, now." Dustin moaned, falling back dramatically to his seat, his misery making El's empathetic heart squeeze painfully.

"Hey, hey," she said, shaking Dustin's arm loosely. At his inquiring glance, she lifted the plastic bag off her lap. "Let's open my present, yeah?"

At that, a smile beamed widely on the boy's face and he quickly up-righted his posture once more, his excitement provoking the seatbelt to pull him back. "Open it, open it-"

She did as he prompted, not knowing what to expect. Reaching something cool and hard, El pulled out: a handle of Honey Jack-Daniels. Almost a quarter empty.

"Oh fuck, you got Daniels?" Max appraised, her excitement indicating to El that this was probably a good present.

"Ha!" Always one to keen for validation and positive reinforcement, Dustin puffed his cheeks out proudly. Damn right, he got Daniels. "I told you I had a present-

"I mean technically I got the present." Will corrected, if only to steal Dustin's thunder.

Dustin groaned at that. Fucking Byers and his fucking technicalities, it will be the death of Dustin one day, no doubt.

"Are you kidding me? This shit was my idea. I thought it up like almost 24 hours ago. That's dibs man, read the handbook."

"Yeah, but the Daniels' from Jonathan. Which I paid for, with my money."

"Jesus Christ, Will. Tomato, tomato. You're just never on my side, these days. Fine, be like that, Jonathan got it and Will paid for it, so it's Will's present." Dustin relented, a frown coating his lips. He had a bad habit of always trying to assume the role of El's Hero or whatever, so it was always 'I picked up some Eggos and M&M for you El,' or 'I got you a present, baby girl,' or 'Tell Hop and Joyce I can take you home today.' "Still, you can't deny I thought up Daniels. And Honey Daniels, at that."

"Thank you, Dustin." El smiled brightly, prompting another grin from the boy. She'd never had alcohol before, never seeing a reason to do so, but finally, this was the moment.

"Yeah, I'm impressed, Dustin." Lucas commended from the front. "I expected some Rosé from your mother's wine cabinet, again."

"Me too," Max agreed, marking the first words of amicability within 24 hours between the two. "That shit is starting to taste like water, what with how often we drink it."

"Beggars can't be choosers, shitheads. Also, my mom totally caught me last time or something, 'cause she changed the lock. Now it's not the key type, but a fucking four-digit code one, how mental is that?" Dustin grumbled; until he figured out what the code was, it seemed the Party had to cough up money to indulge in their rebellious, adolescent activities.

"Alright, sounds like a problem for another time, let's drink up. Will, did you grab the cups we left at your house last time?" Max asked, eyeing the bottle excitedly. The pizza should be long digested by now, she needed at least five shots to call this a successful pre-game. And they only had – she did a quick glance at the road before her to check their landmarks – roughly ten more minutes to reach the outskirts of Loch Nora. Perfect. Plenty of time to get half sloshed.

"'Course I did, I'm not an airhead who's going to make their friends drink straight." Will affirmed, looking pointedly at Lucas.

"Alright motherfucker that was one time, nobody got mono so pipe your germophobic ass down." Lucas refuted, his response provoking Dustin's ugly cackle.

"That's rich coming from you," Will sassed, mirth emanating from his smirk. "I see the way you use two straws when you share milkshakes with Max even though you guys are saliva buddies."

"I don't see no problems with that, sharing straws is potentially a health hazard. It's in the Bible, check that shit."

"Of course you don't, you hypocrite. And your parents are atheists."

"Doesn't mean I can't read a Bible."

"Alright, shut the fuck up both of you." Max interrupted, annoyed that the topic of her and Lucas was brought up when they were in a fight. "Let's just drink," she said, reaching for the bottle from El.

Just as her freckled hand touched the tip of the cap, Dustin smacked her greedy hand away. "Slow down, Zoomer. El's got first sip,"

"Fuck, okay." She retreated her hand. "Go for it, El."

"Okay," El said, almost hesitatingly. "Do I need a cup, then?"

"Nah, just for you, you can drink it straight." Will offered, presenting her with an encouraging smile. He pointedly ignored the yells of 'Nepotism' and 'Favoritism' from Lucas up front.

"Do we have chase?" Max asked, as El twisted the cap off.

"Chase is for bitches, Mayfield." Dustin chided, his face a mix of disappointment and judgment directed at the Red-head.

"Not for me, you barf bag." Max deadpanned. "For El!"

"Oh shit," Will groaned "I forgot that."

"I got some water in the back seat." Lucas mentioned, flicking his thumb up to motion in the general area. "One of you is probably sitting on it. Give that to El,"

It took a few fumbles but eventually a plastic, half-empty water bottle was thrust into El's dainty hands. And the image of her, in her cute dress, hair done up, with a whiskey handle almost the size of her frame in one hand and a crinkled water bottle in the other, and her face utterly confused yet anticipatory, was truly a sight to see. Without hesitation, she lifted the whiskey to her lips and drank.

The hollering and cheers of the Party engulfed the Station Wagon.

Like a true badass, she drank. If anyone had expected the tiny angel to take a small sip and be done with it, they needed to eat their words, because El Hopper gulped. She gulped until the burn became slightly more bearable and when she was finished, there was a noticeable gap from her intake as the handle was returned back to Dustin down almost a quarter of what it previously was. Calmly, not reacting to Max's proud claps, she eased the burn in her throat with a few sips of water.

"Now thatwas bitchin'." The description 'proud dad' could not match the pride that exuded off Dustin Henderson, at that point. He was impressed beyond belief, but completely unsurprised that his El swigged her first drink like that.

"You good, babe?" Max laughed, as El huffed a short puff once she capped the water bottle.

"Just peachy," El answered, repeating the phrase Joyce likes to use when she's in a good mood. She dazzled them with a lazy smile, the rush that accompanied the burn already warming her tiny body. El snuggled into the leather seats, her frame gingerly curling into Will's side.

Patting El's flop of curls, Will passed the cups to Dustin, who began filling a generous amount for each party member.

"Here, Red." Dustin passed a cup over the console to Max. "Make yourself fun."

Just as the exchange occurred, the Station Wagon hit a bump in the road, making the car jerk upwards slightly. Such actions triggered a chain reaction, in that the cup exchanged fumbled slightly, making the whiskey in it slosh dangerously. Though not a drop was spilt, as Max quickly pulled the cup close to her chest to negate any more chances of spills, Lucas was on them – or rather, Max – instantaneously.

"Could you be a little more careful, Max? You know this isn't my car." He berated her, pissed by the would-be situation. It was already risky enough borrowing his mother's car, let alone drink in it, but his usual Toyota MR2 was at the shop and he was set on being DD tonight. "My parents will fucking scalp me, if you spill on the seats."

"You need to take a chill pill," Max told him, taking a big chug of her Daniels. Based on the way her blood was beginning to boil with every word Lucas reproachingly threw her way, Max was gearing herself up for a fight. With alcohol. (She really could not deal with him sober, tonight, she realized half-way through the car ride.) "Maybe if you didn't drive like a maniac, we wouldn't have hit that bump. And nothing even spilled, dipshit."

"Yeah, I know nothing spilled but I'm saying it as a contingency. And do you want to get to the party quickly or not?"

"Contingency? Don't use big, fancy words when I'm drinking." Max complained, her sentiments prompting an 'Amen' from Dustin in the backseat, who was also slurping down his drink as if it was water. Max took another chug, finishing off the cup.

"There. No alcohol, no drops. You happy?" She mocked, rolling her eyes. Without waiting for his answer, she twisted around to face the backseat once more, thrusting the cup into Dustin's face. "Refill, Henderson."

"Fuck off, I'm drinking." Dustin said, waving her cup to Will's direction.

Will, looking unaffected by the tensions brewing, was occupying his time with stroking El's hair comfortingly, as the girl gazed outside the window, and nursing his own whiskey cup. Seeing her empty cup, he nodded and, retracting his arm from El, they silently exchanged cups so that he could pour more into Max's.

"No, I'm not fucking happy when you're picking a fight with me." Lucas growled, feeling a migraine approach as Max just scoffed at his response and started nursing her second cup. And he hadn't even had a lick of alcohol yet.

"That's really not my problem."

"Like how it's not your problem if I get toasted for yourspills?"

"Oh my God, I didn't even spill shit! Just drive slower, there's totally no need to go 80 on a local, and maybe you'll actually see the potholes you're supposed to be avoiding."

"Stop fucking tell me how to drive-

"Then learn how to drive!"

"I'm so tempted to turn this shit around-

"Do it-

"Oh my God!" Dustin shouted, his groan halting their argument. "Can you guys stop your lover's quarrel, please?" He practically begged, eyes glossy and mouth already beginning to reek of Honey Daniels. It was also another bad habit of him to drink without chase or pause. "You guys are murdering my sorry excuse of a buzz.

Had Max not been triggered into such a foul mood, by her boyfriend-not-boyfriend no less, she would've taken her own advice and copped a chill pill. Sure, she could be petty, but she hated arguing in front of others, even if they were her best friends. It was an ingrained rule in her household to keep shit like this, private. But she was gulping down alcohol in waves and her anger was still fresh as white snow fall, so she couldn't help but bite out: "Tell him to stop being an overreacting assand maybe, I'll consider getting over it!"

If that sounded fucking childish, then so be it. And if she slurred her last four words, then that was that, too.

Sober and impulsive, though one would expect a person like him to think more before speaking, Lucas snapped: "Jesus fucking Christ, Max, you're so fucking immature-

"I'mimmature?!" She screeched, the shrillness making the three in the back wince. Lucas just grinded his teeth, eyes still set on the road. Max kept on raving, "You can fucking eat my shorts-

"Speaking of lover's quarrel-" Dustin loudly interrupted, his voice purposefully overpowering Max's to garner both of their attention. There was an embarrassing crack in his voice, but he brushed that off; voice cracks be damned, anything to get the pseudo-parents of the group to shut up. "Willy boy, how's Ricky?" Dustin asked, turning to Will.

At that name, Will immediately flushed, his body stiffening as if a dragon from "Icewind Dale" had breathed its icy breath onto his person.

Will Byer's fourth period was dedicated to TA-ing an 11thgrade English class: Ms. Franklin's American-literature class. There was a boy in there – whose name wasnotrelated to 'Ricky' in the slightest – that Will Byers perhaps, maybe, quite certainly was into. But like most queer, homosexual love-stories, his crush's probability of being a heterosexual male, was unfortunately high.

That didn't stop Will Byers from fawning over him, the cute boy with brunette curls and a deep, reverberating laugh and who always managed to greet him with a polite "Hey Will," every time he passed by Will's TA table by the corner of the classroom. And that definitely didn't stop Will Byers from adopting an alias for his crush, a way to reserve the incognito aspect of his unrequited love, coined from his mother's Spanish soap operas that Will catches her indulging in, thrice every week. And like most secrets in the Party, his crush on 'Ricky' didn't stay secretive for long, hence Dustin's tendency to bring him up every so often.

"He's uh…fine, I guess." Will finally said, once his blush quieted and receded to the tips of his pale neck. He gently swatted El's hand away as she attempted to chase the blush with her index finger. "I don't know…I haven't talked to him since Wednesday." Not that he was keeping count. Of course not.

"Oh that's right, we saw him at Benny's huh? With Mike," Dustin recalled, remembering the brief moment of excitement that engulfed him when he finally got a clear look of this 'Ricky' boy. Not to brag, but Dustin was pretty bad at spying on people. The kid had no idea he was being surveilled by the AV President at all. Dustin was sneaky like that. Also, 'Ricky' was way too focused on his burger to even notice a watching eye, though Dustin had to give him props for the way he devoured Benny's Deluxe special like that. Not even a drop of ketchup was wasted.

At the sound of Mike's name, El roused up from Will's side. She'd been so caught up with what was happening in the car ride over to Loch Nora that she'd almost forgotten about Mike Wheeler. And just like that, a flutter of excitement, nerves, and butterflies flooded her. Her body felt warm at just the thought of him, like how it felt when she downed the whiskey. She wondered if this was how Max felt every time she thought about Lucas. Or Will, to this 'Ricky' boy.

"Yeah, uh, exactly." Will sputtered embarrassingly, his hand reaching up to smoothen his hair habitually. Another social tell that he needed to break, fuck. God forbid he saw him tonight and did that in front of him.

It was after that fated Wednesday lunch that Will caught 'Ricky' right after school, a feat that was so pleasantly surprising that it was a wonder how Will didn't break out in sweats. Ricky actually approached him in the parking lot, as Will waited for Jonathan to come pick him up – thank God his brother was late that afternoon.

The conversation was such a blur, meshed up of inquiries about Benny's and Ms. Franklin's recent assignment, that Will could barely remember anything concrete from it. Only that his palms felt clammy by the end of it and when Jonathan paused for him to get in, Will hesitated as he clutched the metal handle of his brother's Ford LTD, so tempted beyond belief to give 'Ricky,' who stood waiting for him to drive off, a hug or at least a fucking high-five. Any physical contact, really. But he didn't. He just got into the car, as per usual. And as Jonathan pulled out of the lot, Will resisted the urge to look back, to check if 'Ricky' was still there.

Will still wasn't sure if he regretted that moment, even after so many days later. Why did that feel akin to a lost opportunity?

"Well, if he runs in Mike's circle, he'll probably be there tonight." Lucas surmised, his voice snatching Will out of his musings. Their Station Wagon was turning onto the street, Will knew intuitively, that Troy Wich lived on. "I'll give you a head's up, if I see him."

"Thanks Lucas," Will said, feeling relieved for some reason.

"Me too," Dustin added, sounding excited at the prospect. Will was starting to think Dustin might've been a romantic at heart, that or he was deprived in his own love life, so he was keen to live vicariously through Will's. "That way, you can hunt him down properly, maybe accost him in a bathroom, and drop to your knees. Give him the ol' razzle dazzle – no teeth, okay? – and get to the boinking, afterwards. That sounds fucking rad. You hella need to get laid, Byers. Your drawings won't help you nut, trust me."

Then again, Will grimaced at Dustin's vulgarity, maybe not so much of a romantic. Just a skeez.

At El's curious eyes, she couldn't have picked up on all of Dustin's vague phrasings, Will merely waved her off, telling her silently that it wasn't anything important her to know, just Dustin being Dustin. As usual, El understood him perfectly.

As disgusted as Will was for Dustin's words – he never thought of 'Ricky' that, he swears! – Max, however, was having the time of her fucking life, her drink once again threatening to spill – it seems like Lucas' side glares were preventing gravity from intervening – as she bellowed out in peals of laughter. "I'll drink to that!" She shouted, happily.

Will couldn't help but smile at the comment, "You guys are both shitheads."

What a night this was turning out to be, and Lucas hadn't even found street parking yet.

As Dustin, Lucas, and Max started arguing about which street to park on – "I do notwant to park in front of his house, that's where all the drunk posers are going to yack!" – and El curled herself once again to Will's side, Will gave a short prayer to whatever God that was out there, that they would keep these good vibes all throughout the night.

Welcome to Troy Wich's Valentine's Day Banger.

Hello Everyone!

It's been sosososososo long, it feels tremendously good to be back. First of all, I'd like to offer my apology and my gratitude for every reader that has graced this story. I'm really sorry I lagged this long to upload - most of you probably thought I ditched it forever, and to an extent, that had been true. I remember I was so excited writing this story but when I got to chapter four, I struggled so hard with getting the dialect and scene perfectly. I restarted it maybe six times and it still wasn't coming out how I envisioned it. So I let it sit for a little bit, hoping the words would flow naturally. But it never did, and my academics eventually made me so busy. I studied abroad for a bit and then I switched uni's and I was so overwhelmed with my life that I just lost the inspiration to write this story. Which is very sad because I had a whole notebook of ideas collecting dust in my home. But yes, I'm terribly sorry for all of those readers I've left in the dark - I know how it feels like, opening your notifications every day, hoping that that one story has finally updated and getting met with disappointment when it did not. I want everyone to know that I read every message, sentiment, review sent my way and I really really really treasure them. I'm so grateful that I still have fans encouraging me in 2019, even though my last update was 2017!, to continue this story.

You are all actually the reason why I picked up on it again. I was going through all my messages and I felt the inspiration burst within me. And I started writing nonstop from 8pm-1am. I have no notes, I have no betas, no editing - this is the roughest draft there is but I couldn't wait to publish this. I'm going to try my best to start publishing my regularly but please don't expect much, I don't want to let anyone down and I don't want to string anyone along.

It feels so good to be writing again, it truly does. I have nothing more to say other than I hope the fans that I had when I started this piece will somehow come upon this story again, because I dedicate this chapter to all of you! Thank you for everyone's support!

p.s. I'm so fucking excited for season three