The front doors of Hawkins Middle creak open and the cold slips in with the kids.

Mike Wheeler stands near the lockers by the science wing, backpack hanging off one shoulder, eyes flicking toward the doors every few seconds like he’s expecting something—or someone—to appear. He pretends to adjust his jacket zipper for the fifth time.

Dustin Henderson is talking. Loudly. “So technically, if Dart was just a normal pollywog—which he wasn’t—it would still be scientifically impressive that he—”

“Dustin,” Lucas Sinclair cuts in, arms crossed, unimpressed. “You named a monster Dart.”

“It was a placeholder name.”

Max Mayfield leans against the lockers beside Lucas, skateboard tucked under her arm. She smirks. “Sure. Just like ‘temporary tattoos’ are temporary.”

Dustin gasps. “You’re on his side now?”

“I’m on the side of common sense,” Max says. “Which I know is unfamiliar territory for you.”

Lucas hides a grin.

Will Byers sits on the floor nearby, back against the lockers, sketchbook open on his knees. His pencil pauses mid-line. He swallows, a flicker of something uneasy passing through his eyes as the buzzing lights overhead hum just a little too loud. He presses his fingers into the page until the feeling passes.

Mike notices. “You okay?”

Will nods quickly. “Yeah. Just—tired.”

Mike doesn’t look convinced, but before he can say more—

“WHEELER.”

Steve Harrington’s voice echoes down the hall.

Steve strides in wearing his usual confidence like armor, jacket slung over his shoulder. He tosses Dustin a chocolate donut bag.

“Breakfast of champions,” Steve says. “You’re welcome.”

Dustin beams. “I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve mutters. “Don’t make it weird.”

Nancy Wheeler is a few lockers down with Jonathan Byers. Nancy’s flipping through her notes while Jonathan adjusts his camera strap, quiet as ever.

“You didn’t sleep,” Nancy says softly, not looking up.

Jonathan shrugs. “You either.”

They share a look—something unspoken, heavy, and familiar.

Across the hall, Eleven stands slightly apart from the group, Hopper hovering nearby like an anxious guard dog pretending not to hover.

El’s wearing her wig today. It still feels strange on her head. She tugs at the sleeves of her jacket, eyes following Mike without meaning to.

Hopper notices. “You’re good,” he says gruffly. “Just school. Bells, books, no monsters.”

El nods, though her nose scrunches a little like she doesn’t fully believe him.

Mike finally turns and sees her.

His face lights up instantly. “Hey.”

“Hi,” El says, softer—but smiling.

The moment stretches until Dustin loudly clears his throat.

“Okay, wow, emotional reunion, but some of us are starving and deserve attention.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “You literally just ate.”

“Emotionally,” Dustin insists.

From the far end of the hall, Billy Hargrove strolls in late, sunglasses on indoors like he owns the place. He clocks Steve immediately, lips curling.

“Oh, great,” Billy mutters. “Babysitter convention.”

Steve straightens. “Morning to you too, sunshine.”

Max sighs deeply. “Ignore him.”