The sun was relentless, beating down over the hilltop like it had a personal grudge. Sweat clung to your neck, your shirt stuck to your back, and the aluminum of the radio tower glinted hot enough to sear skin.

“I swear to god, if I die of heatstroke on a hill in Indiana waiting for your nerdy long-distance girlfriend to answer, I’m haunting you forever,” you muttered, swiping your wrist across your forehead.

Dustin didn’t even flinch.

He was too busy fiddling with Cerebro—the DIY radio tower he’d built with the kind of focus that made you think this might be more than just a science project. A mission. Something big.

“You’re the one who said you’d stay,” he said, not even looking up.

“Yeah, well,” you sighed, “I thought we’d be here for twenty minutes. Not—” you checked your watch, “—two hours.”

He gave you a look. “She’s out there. She has to be. The signal just needs to bounce off the right—thingy.”

“Reflector?”

“Exactly!”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t move from your spot in the dusty grass beside him. Everyone else had left at this point. Mike, Lucas, Max, Will, even El—they’d gotten bored or hungry or just flat-out didn’t believe Suzie was real. You weren’t totally sure either, to be honest, but you did believe in Dustin. And that was enough.

“I still can’t believe El and Mike bailed,” Dustin grumbled, twisting the dial sharply. “Mike’s supposed to be my best friend. But nooo, he has to go stare longingly into El’s eyes for the thousandth time this week.”

“I mean,” you shrugged, “he is very committed to being a lovesick dumbass.”

That got a smirk from him.

“I liked it better when El was just learning what waffles were,” he muttered. “Now she and Mike are like… like a walking, talking rom-com.”

“An annoying one,” you agreed. “With zero comedic value.”

He chuckled softly, then sighed. The wind kicked up a bit, rustling the pages of his notebook and the thin wires stretching from his makeshift antenna. “You think they’re right?” he asked. “That Suzie isn’t real?”