The late bell had rung exactly seventeen minutes ago, but the crush of bodies trying to escape Hawkins High was a beast you had yet to conquer. Then, Mrs. O’Malley, your English teacher who seemed to genuinely enjoy discussing existential themes right as the dismissal bell went off, had cornered you about The Odyssey.

You finally broke free of the main hallway traffic, the artificial yellow light of the school suddenly replaced by the crisp, golden slant of late afternoon sun. Your backpack straps dug into your shoulders as you rounded the corner, feeling the familiar prickle of guilt for being tardy.

And there he was.

Mike Wheeler was leaning against the cool brick wall of the school, looking exactly like the brooding lead singer of a band that didn't yet exist. He was dressed in his usual uniform of a slightly rumpled graphic tee—probably some obscure sci-fi reference—underneath a dark flannel shirt, his dark brown hair falling just past his collar. He looked restless, shifting his weight slightly, clearly waiting.

As you stepped onto the paved walkway, he straightened up, sensing your presence. His brown eyes, usually bright with fierce energy, swept over the emptying parking lot before settling immediately on you.

He pushed himself off the wall, his lanky frame moving with a familiar, endearing awkwardness.

"Took you long enough, Henderson," he said, his voice a low rumble as he walked towards you. It wasn’t a scolding tone, more a playful tease, the kind that always made your stomach flutter.

You offered a sheepish grin, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Sorry, Mike. Library emergency. Very serious textbook-related business."

He chuckled, a sound that always felt like sunshine breaking through clouds. As he reached you, he didn’t hesitate, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you into a tight hug. You buried your face in his chest, breathing in the faint scent of his deodorant and something uniquely him.

"It’s okay," he murmured, his voice muffled against your hair. He pulled back just enough to look you in the eye. His brown eyes, usually so full of a fierce, determined light, were soft now, filled with a gentle affection that made you feel like the only person in the world. "I was starting to think you'd been taken by a horde of Orcs."