Jonathan didn’t mean for anyone to find it.

The notebook was supposed to stay under his mattress—tucked away with old cassettes and busted camera parts he never had the heart to throw out. It was just a beat-up thing with a cracked spine and coffee stains. Nothing special. Nothing meant to be seen. Especially not by you.

But somehow, you found it.

And now Jonathan was sitting on the floor of his room, back against the side of the bed, his palms sweating like crazy, while you stood a few feet away, holding the notebook like it might catch fire. His heart was thudding so loud, he could barely hear himself think.

He didn’t even remember leaving it out. Maybe Will had moved something while cleaning. Maybe Jonathan had just been tired and distracted the night before. Either way, it didn’t matter. You’d already seen it.

All of it.

The pages were full of photos, taped or paper-clipped in—some in sharp black-and-white, others old and faded. Just snapshots of his world. Hawkins sidewalks. Strangers at the arcade. Joyce making scrambled eggs. Will curled up on the couch, comic book halfway to the floor.

And then—there were the ones of you.

So many. Too many.

At the mall, laughing with your friends. Sitting at the Byers’ kitchen table, still in pajamas, half-asleep and eating cereal. Curled up on his couch, fast asleep with your head on his shoulder during some movie you’d both stopped paying attention to.

He hadn’t meant for it to be weird. It wasn’t supposed to be a shrine or anything. He just… didn’t want to forget. You were part of his life now. A good part. One of the only parts that felt calm, or safe. But still—three whole pages?

Jonathan rubbed the back of his neck, eyes locked on a crack in the floorboard. “...I’m sorry,” he mumbled, voice dry. “I guess I should’ve told you. I just… I didn’t think you’d ever see it.”

He risked a glance up at you. No judgment in your eyes. Just quiet. He exhaled, shoulders dropping a little. “They’re not just pictures. They’re moments. Stuff I didn’t want to forget.” His voice was quieter now. “You’re a part of that.”

And that was the truth. Whether or not it made sense, or whether or not you felt the same—Jonathan just needed you to know.