Chapter Text
"I can't believe you're working here."
Mike Wheeler, in his blue, red, and white sailor outfit and a ridiculous hat, used the scooper to slide through the chocolate batter and form a ball. With questionable mastery, he placed the ice cream onto the crunchy Scoops Ahoy cone.
"That’ll be $1.25, El." He extended his arm "elegantly" to his ex-girlfriend with the ice cream. "But since you caught my eye, it's on the house!"
Jane grit her teeth, parting her lips to let out a low huff. Rolling her eyes aggressively, she reached into the pocket of her colorful outfit to grab some money.
"I don't need your $1.25, Michael." She handed him the coins and snatched the cone from Mike's hand. "I’m not in need of charity."
Technically, Mike was the one in need, he thought sadly.
"No... That’s not what I meant?" The statement came out more like a question. "I was trying to... flirt?"
The words came out more confused than ever, Mike stumbling over his speech.
"Don't ever do that again."
"What? Why?" Mike gestured with his hands, disappointed. "I want things to go back to the way they were!"
"You never flirted like that with me. Just be yourself and maybe I’ll consider it," Jane commented nonchalantly, licking the chocolate scoop.
That seemed to spark an idea in Mike’s head. His eyes brightened with hope, and a smile broke across the lips of the boy in the ridiculous hat.
"So, can we hang out this weekend?" he asked, leaning suggestively over the counter. "I'm off this Sunday."
Jane gave a lopsided smile, appearing to like the proposal. Mike smiled back, expecting only the best.
But the best never came:
"I'm busy, Mike. Maybe on the 31st of this month," El said, referring to the month of June on the summer calendar.
"The 31st?" He pondered for a few seconds. "Deal! What time?"
"You choose." And she walked away, letting her short wavy hair bounce with her calm but firm steps. Mike’s expression shifted into a confused scowl, his nose wrinkling excessively.
"El? El!" he called, but the girl had already vanished from his sight.
Once he had a moment alone inside that stupid ice cream parlor, he managed to form a coherent thought: June. 31 days...?
Hmm.
June only has 30 days. If it were July, fine. Did Jane get confused? Yeah, damn it... she must have been confused. He rubbed his sensitive eyes painfully with his wrists and let out a frustrated little scream.
"Argh!"
"And another bites the dust" a familiar voice said from behind him. Mike turned slowly toward the mocking girl who continued: "You are oh-for-six, Popeye!"
Max Mayfield, with her vibrant red hair contrasting with her work uniform, was using a whiteboard to keep track of an idiot scoreboard that Mike had never agreed to—not that his lack of contribution mattered to his friend’s choice. The redhead seemed to be having the time of her life at the expense of the irritable boy with cheeks burning with rage.
Mike had essentially learned that for Max to smile, he had to suffer.
"Yeah, yeah, I can count," he snapped, referring to the side labeled "You suck" which had 6 tally marks, while the other side, "You actually thought!", remained empty.
"You know? That means you suck, loser." Max reinforced, unbothered by Mike’s acidic tone.
"Yep! I can read too," he said, leaning his hands on the counter and pursing his lips.
"Since when?"
The hands that were just on his eyes were now buried aggressively in his hair before he gestured wildly once more at his best friend. Max just laughed at his face, letting out a little snort.
"It’s this stupid hat!" He pointed at the hideous accessory. "I’m telling you, this thing kills my best quality!"
"I don't think so. It does a huge favor by hiding that square bowl cut of yours." She shrugged as Mike opened his mouth in disbelief. "But yeah, company policy is a real drag. Uhm. And hey... It’s a crazy idea, but have you considered about stopping lying to your girlfriend? She’s way too pretty to have to deal with two things: you and your dumb lies."
"She was actually attracted to my haircut!"
Max fell silent, staring at him with a downward-tilted smirk. She shrugged again.
"Oh, and in this case, you mean the truth I’d have to tell is that I can only enroll in a technical course if my douchebag dad pays for it because I'm only good at writing essays? And he is trying to teach me a lesson?", deep down, he knew that wasn't the only thing he was lying about, but he continued: "I make three dollars an hour and I have no future? That truth?"
Before Max could respond with a "not just that," the bell caught their attention, signaling a group of people entering Scoops Ahoy.
"Hey, twelve o' clock." Max pointed with her head toward a group of boys arriving and hid back behind the "window" with her board.
"Oh, for God's sake! For God's sake!" he grumbled under his breath, his voice rasping with anger. "I'll handle it, okay? Thanks for nothing."
His eyes watched the boys approach the counter, their faces impossible to describe. With smug expressions, Mike felt his ears burn with shame as he remembered the ridiculous hat on his head. He had to do something to avoid another four years of bullying in college—if he even made it into Hawkins University.
"And you know what?" Mike leaned against the window, grabbed the company hat, and tossed it back and away out of reach. "Screw the company policy"
"Oh my God, you're a whole new man." Max said in her sarcastic tone, a tone she was a true professional in when it came to mocking Mike.
"Right? Uuh." Despite knowing it was a taunt, Mike agreed. "Ahoy, gentlemans! Didn't see you there!"
He ran a hand through his hair, trying to fix the rebellious strands messed up by the constant friction of the hat. He tried not to trip over his words while facing the boy in front of the others, who was relatively cute. He had curly hair, somewhat long, and wore a leather jacket. Pretty sharp, right?
Not that he was embarrassed. Never! It was just hard to deny the other boy's attractive looks.
"How about we roll the dice and let luck decide the juiciest flavor? Allow me to introduce myself: I am The Paladin, Mike Wheeler."
The boys laughed in unison. Mike could already see his future filled with stupid nicknames while trying to shove his books into his school locker.
"That would be a nice little joke..." the curly-haired one began, as Mike started to get nervous. "...but unfortunately, I’m not a weird nerd like you."
Mike closed his eyes for a few extra seconds, regretting all his past, present, and future decisions. He pushed through:
"Can I get you guys a little taste of the Cherries Jubilee" He scooped a red ball of ice cream, showing it to the boys. They looked at each other. "No? Anybody? Banana Boat? Four boys, four spoons."
Max Mayfield, in the back room, listened to everything with deep disappointment stuck in her chest. It was painful, almost physically hurting, to hear those weird, cringey words coming out of Mike's mouth without being able to do anything.
Actually, she could do something. She just didn't want to. It was hilarious to see the boy embarrassing himself! Don't blame her. With that, she uncapped the pen she had abandoned earlier and let the ink flow on the "You suck" side, marking the seventh point on the board. She shook her head, pitying him.
"Share it in the booth" Mike asked the boys, and the response was a cringeworthy silence. "Anybody? It’s hot out there."
Now it was a silence filled with judgmental faces.
Mike sighed. Max lamented for him, though she couldn't help laughing one last time.
"Have a nice day." With a tired voice and face, Mayfield extended both arms to hand the ice cream cone to her customers.
She couldn't stand another second of dealing with shallow, annoying people all day, especially inside a mall. She was already an insufferable teenager; why was she subjecting herself to enduring other even more insufferable teenagers? Plus the combo of Mike Wheeler as her coworker! Lord help her.
But well...
Max would never admit it, but Mike held a tiny piece of her heart. Very small. Almost nonexistent. The size of a molecule! But it existed. He—to her misfortune—was her first best friend in Hawkins, and they hadn't been apart since.
Mike had been a total failure last summer and now needed a job so he wouldn't have to rely on his douchebag father. Looking for work, he took advantage of the new Starcourt Mall opening in the dump that was Hawkins and asked his best friend to work with him.
The problem was that Hawkins was small, with a population of about 30,000. Because of that, everyone who lived there was, in some way, inside Starcourt. Max sweated just imagining running into unwanted people there.
But God didn't seem to hear her prayers; her ex appeared right behind the couple she was serving.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
The only thing that relieved the terrible situation was the presence of Will and Dustin, who still had silly smiles on their faces—the curly-haired one with teeth decorated with braces.
"Hi, Max! I didn't know you were working here," Will spoke first, waving.
"Hi, Will." She gave a friendly smile, tilting her head. Of all Mike’s friends, Will was the sweetest.
Dustin waved too, and she waved back.
"Uhm, hi." Lucas, who had a playful smile a few seconds ago, widened his eyes nervously.
"Hey," she replied simply. She wasn't going to stress out.
Max leaned on the counter, waiting for the other distressed boy to continue.
"So..." Lucas tried to start, but the silence stretched on for too long.
Dustin intervened, saving his friend: "Is he here?"
"Are you referring to..."
THUD. A door was shoved open aggressively and frantically, almost like a jump scare from an inanimate object. Out of the door came an extremely smiling Mike, exuding pure energy from every pore. With his arms raised like he was in some sort of celebration, he exclaimed:
"Henderson! Sinclair!"
The boys began to laugh loudly in public, caring little about the people sitting at the tables in Scoops Ahoy judging them and whispering about the weird, sudden noise.
"And Will...!" He smiled bashfully when his eyes met his best friend's green eyes. The other boy waved shyly.
Max raised an eyebrow, and the other two seemed to ignore it, as if Mike’s idiot face was just the norm. And it was! The usual was Mike having that idiot face. The redhead couldn't say why, all of a sudden, it seemed weird.
"You're back!" Mike started jumping around to hide the sudden embarrassment—which he definitely didn't know where it was coming from—and let the door close on its own. The three of them were still smiling. "They're back!"
Now the boy glanced quickly at the redhead, alerting her of their arrival. Max, who was confused, just "accepted" the situation sadly, shaking her head.
"We're back!" Lucas, Dustin, and Will exclaimed in unison, and Mike stepped closer, still jumping like a frog.
"You got a job!" Dustin pointed to a random corner, referring to the ice cream parlor.
"I got a job!" He made a saxophone gesture with his fingers and a weird "turududuturu" sound as if he were actually playing an instrument. "YEAH!!!"
Max watched the strange movement in complete silence, though she didn't fail to express her opinion with a scowling, disappointed look. She bared her teeth in a disgusted face as she realized what they were starting to do:
The four of them, in frightening synchronicity, began a secret handshake of fist bumps, claps, and other gestures. In a programmed rhythm, their handshake was very well done and very well thought out. In the end, appearing to represent a bloody battle, Dustin and Lucas finished their attacks with a sword stab to Mike's stomach, and Will stood behind, as if being defended by two warriors.
Mike started to fake-choke, making unrecognizable sounds as if he were losing his breath.
Max shook her head.
"Why am I friends with all four of you?" she asked, sadly.
The four of them shrugged.