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Everything is oddly quiet now. Everyone is oddly quiet.
Holly doesn’t understand it. Not one bit.
They won’t let her go back to school. They say they’re taking a pause. Her mom brings her bowls of ice cream for lunch and lets her sit in front of the TV. She has dessert before dinner, too, and sleeps tucked against her mother’s chest just like when she was a baby.
And she can’t protest that she’s not a baby, because then Mom’s eyes get teary and Holly doesn’t like to make her look that way.
So she pretends that it’s OK even though everyone’s acting like it’s all too OK. And it doesn’t make any sense.
She wants to go back to school. She wants to see her friends and fight with her brother, who’s spending so much time with his friend that she never sees him. And she wants Nancy to pick at her clothes and complain about her glittery lipgloss and she wants to yell back WELL, AT LEAST I’M NOT BORING. She wants her dad to get out of the hospital.
The ice cream on her spoon makes her sick to eat, but she smiles at her mother, and she thinks about dying.
She doesn’t know much about it, not really. It’s just a vague notion in her head that one day she could lie down and not ever have to see that broken look on her mother’s face ever again and it would all stop, and it would be so peaceful. Her gaze unfocuses from the television and she looks out to see her brother pull into the driveway, knocking over a trash can.
The pit in her stomach twists when she thinks about if the car could hit her hard enough to knock her out. Mike would feel terrible. He’d be as bad as Nancy when she got back, even worse when he realizes he can’t save her.
But she’d be dead? Why does she care?
When she hears his keys in the door she bolts up, realizing she stole one of his sweaters, leaving her ice cream on the counter. She slams the bathroom door when she catches sight of him and Will in the living room. They don’t seem to notice her, and she know because they’re standing close in the way they only do when they think she isn’t around.
She hears her Mom’s panicked voice shout “HOLLY?” and even through her angst, she rolls her eyes.
“PEEING, MOM!”
She sits down on the closed toilet lid, holding her head in her hands and staring blankly ahead.
Maybe if she gets her head stuck in the lid, she could drown.
Her chin trembles.
She hates thinking like this.
But she doesn’t know what else to think about.
It’s like her first instinct, like that one kid that likes to snap when he gives people fist bumps- it’s instant, and then it passes, but this isn’t like a cool fistbump. It’s like a creeping sense of dread that makes it’s home in her stomach and she can’t fight it off, and now she’s crying in the goddamn bathroom.
Like a baby.
There’s a knock at the door and she wipes her snot off her face.
“Holly, honey? You alright?”
“Ew, Mom,” she tries to laugh, “I’ve got to poop!”
Her mom does laugh, also a bit forced, and Holly wishes everything could just go back to normal instead of this dumb imitation of how it used to be.
Her mother never used to pay attention.
Mike never used to spend all his time with Will, ignoring her.
Nancy never used to dote on her.
Speaking of, where is Nancy?
A minute later, there’s another knock at the door.
“Holly, honey, I’ve got to do my makeup before work. Night shift, so I won’t see you for a while, OK? But Mike can bring you by if you wanna say hi, that’d be fun.”
Ah. Right. Nancy’s new job. She never wanted Holly around before.
It’s not like she can say they don’t care.
“I’m on the toilet!”
“OK, I don’t have to use the bathroom. See you tonight, sweetie.”
She never called Holly sweetie, either.
When there’s another knock, she shouts, “JESUS, CAN’T YOU PEOPLE LET ME GO TO THE BATHROOM?”
“Sorry, Holly, um.” Will sounds sheepish and she feels almost bad. “I was just wondering if you were alright. Needed anything. You know.”
There’s something about his voice, the way he’s not talking at her, that makes her get up and walk over to the door, opening it.
“I wasn’t going to the bathroom,” she tells him factually.
“Oh. Well. I’m running down to the gas station for snacks, do you…” He puts his hands in his pockets, shifting from foot to foot, “do you want any candy?”
“No. Mom has, like, a whole fridge full of ice cream.”
“Wanna just go for a walk then? Mike says you haven’t been leaving the house a lot.”
She glares at him suspiciously. They keep telling her it’s all over, but what if it’s not? What if Mr. Whatsit- Henry, Venca, whatever- is disguising himself again? Can he do that? Maybe Mom is right. She should stay in the house.
But then again…
“Is Mike coming?”
“No, he’s sulking right now.”
“He’s always sulking. Can we stop by the park? I want to check on my pet rocks. I left them under some bushes.”
“Sure,” he says, grinning slightly. “Do they still have those?”
“...No, but my friends and I painted some faces on some regular rocks with dirt,” she tells him as she gets her shoes on. “Where’d Mom go?”
“Driving Nancy to work since you guys only have one car, I think. That’s why we’re walking.”
“Lazypants drive everywhere.”
“Oh, is that so?” He pulls his jacket on and she does the same, although his is a lot brighter than his. Hers has pink stripes and a smiley face on the tag, which she won’t cut off just because it’s so cute, even if it tickles her. Maybe he’d be happier if he had better jackets.
Well, he doesn’t seem particularly unhappy anymore.
Actually, neither does Mike.
It’s weird. Their fake-fine isn’t directed at him.
She doesn’t know what to do with it.
As Hawkins transitions into winter, the leaves didn’t turn a nice brown this year. They just dropped one night and there was frost on the windows and smatterings of snow over the dead leaves. Holly stuffs her hands in her pockets, mirroring Will, sizing him up. She could run, probably. She’s good at running. She’s been practicing, up and down the stairs when Mom isn’t looking. She could get away, unless he can still do that crazy thing with his hands.
El can fly. Can Will fly?
“Can you fly?”
“What?”
“Like, you know.” She mimes a wooshing noise with her hands, leaping a few steps up.
“Oh. Kind of. I’m not very good at it.”
He doesn’t say anything else after that, and she narrows her eyes at him again.
He laughs.
“What?”
“Aren’t you gonna ask if I’m OK?”
He blinks. “Do you want to tell me if you’re OK?”
“No.”
“Then I won’t ask,” he shrugs. “I just thought a walk would be nice.”
It is, but she won’t admit that to him. It’s not fair, how they all trick her and trap her all the time, and then they it was all Henry. If they would’ve just talked to her-”
She stops abruptly as a car honks as it speeds through a stop sign. She was already two steps into the street, and the wind almost knocked her backwards.
“Woah,” Will says, grabbing her by the sleeve of her coat. “Careful.”
“Whatever,” she shrugs him off.
In the gas station, she grabs three bags of chips and makes herself a cup of hot chocolate. It’s never as good at home, but when Will isn’t looking, she sneaks a bit of the coffee into her cup. It’s the only way she can handle the bitter stuff, and she’s adamant to be just as much of an adult as the teenagers around her.
Will, on the other hand, just makes himself a straight hot chocolate, no additions, and helps her carry everything to the counter. She insists on carrying one of the plastic bags to the park most of the way home.
“Won’t Mike wonder where you are?” She sucks in her cheeks like she’s sucking on a lemon, trying to make a sour face.
“I’m with Mike all the time,” he assures her, “he’ll be fine.” He sets their bags down and sits on one of the swings, blowing on his hot chocolate. She sets hers down and starts to swing back and forth. “He doesn’t really understand, though. You know?”
“Understand what?”
“The Upside Down,” he shrugs. “What it was like to be there. In Vecna’s clutches. But I was your age when I disappeared.”
“I don’t remember.”
“Yeah. You were 3, I think. I don’t remember a lot from when I was 3,” he shrugs again. “But I was 12 when I went in there.”
“Well, I’m not 12,” she says, dragging her feet in the wood chips. It’s going to get her white shoes all dirty. “So how can you get it?”
“Well, it was a nightmare for me. And I still feel like I’m there in actual nightmares. I was cold, I was always running, I had to defend myself with a big old shotgun. And at some point…” he shakes his head. “Well, nobody can fight like that forever. Not against those things. You remember.”
She glares. “People don’t talk about that.”
“Well, don’t you want to?”
“No,” she stresses, “because when we talk about it, then I have to hear about how cool and great things are now. And they’re not. I almost drowned, there was so much blood, everywhere, and- and- everything was broken.” She clenches her jaw. “And it was different.”
He doesn’t argue with her, and that just makes her vision even more red.
“How was it different.”
“Henry was nice,” she stresses. “I thought- he was protecting me. He was my friend. And he was the only one who listened. Did he listen to you? Or Max?”
He shakes his head. “No. But me and Max-”
“Get it, I know.” She bites the inside of her cheek. “But I thought he was good. It was supposed to be good.”
Will gets out of his swing and sets down his hot chocolate. Walks over to her. He’s so tall, but he’s always got such a warm expression on his face. How is she supposed to trust him, too? Just because he’s friendly? Everyone’s friendly until they’re not, and it’s always the people who seem terrible that are by your side at the end of the day.
“Why are they all so evil? No one is good,” her voice cracks. “None of them actually- actually care about me.”
The tears start coming down her face just when he pulls her into a big hug. His arms barely reach her and her face is smushed into his coat and she tries to wrap her arms around him, sniffling. He’s warm and her face has been so cold in the wind.
“Why can’t you be my Mom,” she tries to laugh.
“Because that’d be weird,” he laughs back, and doesn’t make her let him go.
“Sometimes I wish I had just died,” she whispers. “You know, where no one could find my body and I’d just be missing and I wouldn’t have to lie and see how bad it would be for you guys. But I think I missed my chance and that makes it worse.” She tightens her fists in his jacket and he doesn’t push her away or anything. She feels worse just for having admitted it.
“Yeah,” he says, quietly. “It’s like that. For a while. Escaping can be worse than just… giving up.”
“Does it ever go away?”
He hesitates.
“Don’t lie to me,” she says like a threat.
“Not really. I mean. Yeah. But only if you do it.”
“And everyone else?” She pushes off of him, back onto the swing, and he lets her go.
“You’d be surprised, I think.”
“My brother’s changed, right?”
He bites his lip like he’s trying not to smile, and Holly knows that look. It was the look that Nancy used to get with Johnathan, back when everything was new and exciting.
“Yeah. Well. Not in a bad way. But it’s kind of a secret.”
“I’m good with secrets!”
He hesitates. “You know Robin?”
“No.”
“Um…” He rubs the back of his neck. “Well, it’s kinda hard to explain.”
“What? You’re going out? People do that all the time.”
“Not boys, usually.”
She shrugs, mirroring him, and he laughs.
“Yeah. But your parents can’t know. And this isn’t me telling you not to talk to them, or to be honest, it’s just that you don’t get to make that decision for other people, you know? Because Mike doesn’t want to tell them. And I don’t want to tell them. And, well, that is to say, you know, you can talk to us. And if they’re not listening to you, you can talk to me. OK?”
She nods, as seriously as she can be.
“But you can be mean to your brother about it.
She grins. “OK.”
He leaves out his fist and she bumps hers against him, making the whooshing noise.
“Ready to get back to the TV?”
“Ugh. Yeah. Parks are no fun without kids.” She pauses. “No offense.”
“None taken.”
She skips back home, the bags hitting the sides of her legs.
The world didn’t end and she didn’t have to sit down and talk about her feelings, and he listened. He really, really listened.
Maybe ice cream with Mom wouldn’t be so bad later.