Chapter 41

Hello, baguettes. Y’all are lucky because I am now on break and all my friends have gone home for christmas so i have a ton of time by myself for the next few weeks to give you guys a ton of chapters so get ready :))))

“Maggie. Up. Now.”

Will’s voice cuts through the haze of sleep, each word punctuated by a solid thump as a pillow comes down on Maggie’s face again and again.

She groans, batting the pillow away and rolling onto her back.

“Jesus lord almighty, I’m up,” she mutters, squinting at him, “You know, abuse is a terrible tactic when the person you’re hitting is significantly stronger than you.”

Will just scowls, unfazed, “You promised. It’s movie time.”

He drops the pillow onto the floor dramatically, like he’s made a point and expects applause.

Maggie pushes herself up onto her elbows, hair sticking out in about twelve different directions.

“Yeah, I gathered that,” she says dryly, “Still wish I was with Nancy instead.”

Will stomps his foot like he’s eight again, “Of course you wanna be with your stupid girlfriend. You’re always with her.”

Maggie sits up fully now, pointing a finger at him, “First of all, not my girlfriend yet. Second of all, I am not always with her.”

“That’s a lie and you know it,” Will fires back.

“I am not always with her!” Maggie insists, “She’s just… always with me.”

Will plants his hands on his hips, eyebrows raised, “That’s the same thing. You just used different words.”

She opens her mouth, then closes it, “Okay, rude. But still wrong.”

“Can we go?” Will presses, already halfway to the door, “I don’t wanna be late.”

“Yes, yes,” Maggie sighs as she stands, dragging herself upright, “Calm down, Kujo. Don’t have an aneurysm before we even get there.”

She slips her jacket over her shoulders, fumbles with the zipper, and laces her boots while Will hovers nearby. He’s out the door the second she finishes tying the last knot.

They hop on their bikes and ride toward Starcourt, Will pedaling like he’s afraid the mall might vanish if he doesn’t get there fast enough.

When they roll up, Max and Lucas are already there, standing by the bike rack. No Mike.

“What’s up, nerds?” Maggie calls as she and Will ditch their bikes.

Max crosses her arms, “Waiting for your lazy asses.”

“It was all Maggie’s fault!” Will shouts immediately, pointing at her like a traitor.

Maggie gasps, pressing a hand to her chest, “Wow. How dare you sell me out like that, Sunshine.”

“It’s not my fault you wouldn’t stop napping,” Will shoots back.

“Sleep is important for brain development,” she says solemnly, “You should try it sometime.”

Lucas snorts.

“Where’s Mike?” Maggie asks, glancing around.

“With El,” Max says, rolling her eyes.

Maggie nudges her shoulder lightly, “Ooooh. Someone’s jealous.”

Max scoffs immediately, “I’m not jealous. I was with her earlier today.”

“Uh-huh,” Maggie says, unconvinced, “Sure, Red.”

Max glares at her.

Ten minutes pass before a familiar mop of dark hair finally skids to a stop in front of the group, bike rattling as it hits the rack.

“Michael Wheeler,” Maggie announces, folding her arms and lowering her voice, “you are late.”

Mike barely looks fazed, “Hi to you too.”

“We’re gonna miss the opening,” Will complains, glancing anxiously toward the mall doors as the others nod in agreement.

“Only if you all keep whining about it,” Mike says, “Let’s go!”

“Hold on,” Maggie cuts in, stepping directly into his path, “Let me guess. You were busy.”

Mike squints at her, “Busy doing what?”

Lucas grins immediately, “Busy being emotionally codependent.”

Mike groans, “I was with El. We were literally just talking.”

“Ohhhh,” Maggie says, dragging it out, “Talking. Sure. Was it intense talking? Eye contact? Feelings?”

“Shut up,” Mike mutters, “She’s my best friend.”

“Uh-huh,” Maggie nods, “And I’m the Queen of England.”

Lucas starts making exaggerated ooooh noises anyway, because of course he does.

“Oh El, I value our platonic bond so deeply—”

“Lucas,” Max snaps.

“What?” he says innocently, “I’m just saying what Mike didn’t say.”

Will snickers, “It’s kinda funny.”

Mike throws his hands up, “Why does everyone do this? I’m allowed to hang out with my best friend.”

Maggie grins, “Oh totally. It’s just funny how your ‘best friend’ is always your excuse.”

“Like how you’re always with my sister?” Mike fires back instantly.

Maggie freezes mid-step, slowly turning to face him, “That is wildly different.”

“Is it?” Mike asks smugly, “Because every time I see Nancy, you’re there. Like a weird emotional support shadow.”

Max coughs to hide a laugh.

“First of all,” Maggie says, pointing at him, “Nancy likes my company. Second of all, she would fall apart without me.”

Mike shrugs, “Sounds familiar.”

“Wow,” Maggie scoffs, “I defend you for years and this is how you repay me?”

Lucas snorts, “He’s not wrong.”

“Traitors. All of you,” Maggie mutters as she starts toward the doors.

Max lingers for half a second, glancing back toward where El should be, then shakes it off and follows.

“Can we go now?” Will asks desperately.

“Yes,” Maggie sighs, “Before Mike says something else that makes me question why I protect him.”

Mike smirks, “Love you too.”

“Debatable,” Maggie calls over her shoulder.

They head to Scoops Ahoy, bickering the whole way.

When they reach the ice cream shop, the air inside is all sugar and cold. Mike immediately breaks from the group and beelines for the counter like he’s on a mission, slamming his palm down on the bell.

Ding ding ding.

“Michael,” Maggie says mildly, “if you break that, I’m telling your mom.”

He ignores her and taps it again, faster this time.

“Oh, dingus,” the girl at the counter calls toward the back, not even looking up from where she’s wiping the glass, “Your children are here.”

“Again?” Steve groans, “Seriously?”

The window slides open, and there he is. His soul visibly leaves his body as he takes in the gaggle of kids plus Maggie, clogging up his workplace.

“Hey, Steve,” Maggie says brightly, leaning an elbow on the counter, “Miss us?”

Steve squints at her, “I saw you, like, two days ago.”

“And yet,” she replies, “here I am. Thriving.”

He sighs, “I hate it here.”

The girl at the counter finally looks up, eyes flicking over the group before landing on Maggie.

“Okay,” the girl says slowly, “who’s this?”

Maggie straightens like she’s been summoned, “Hi. Maggie. Resident delight.”

Steve groans louder, “Don’t encourage her.”

The girl snorts, “I’m Robin.”

Maggie’s face lights up instantly.

“Robin,” she repeats, “Cute. Suits you.”

Robin pauses, “Uh. Thanks?”

Steve shoots Maggie a warning look, “Be normal.”

“I am normal,” Maggie says, offended.

She turns back to Robin, “He’s just mad because I keep his life interesting.”

“That is not what’s happening,” Steve says.

Robin tilts her head, clearly entertained now, “You friends or…?”

“Friends,” Steve says quickly.

“Painfully,” Maggie adds, flashing Robin a grin, “But he has good hair and occasionally buys me fries, so I keep him.”

Robin laughs and Maggie clocks it immediately.

“Oh wow,” Maggie says, “You laugh pretty, too. That feels unfair.”

Steve drags a hand down his face, “I’m calling HR.”

“We are HR,” Robin reminds him.

“Then I’m quitting.”

Mike clears his throat loudly, “Can we get to the movie now?”

Robin glances down at the impatient cluster of kids, “Oh. Right. The army.”

“They bite,” Maggie warns helpfully.

Robin grins at her, “You always like this?”

“Only on days that end in Y.”

Steve shakes his head, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Robin says, “This is the most interesting thing that’s happened all shift.”

Maggie beams, “See? I bring joy.”

Steve mutters, “You bring nightmares.”

“Uh, Maggie? Movie now!” Lucas pipes up.

The girl rolls her eyes, as Steve leads the group to the back.

“I’ll catch you later, Robin,” Maggie winks and follows the kids.

The five walk down the long hallway as Steve holds the door for them.

He calls, “I swear if anyone hears about this–”

“We’re dead!” The kids chorus.

“Bye, Stevie, try not to miss me too much!” Maggie yells.

She barely hears the boy mutter, “As if that could be remotely possible,” as the group disappears into the movie theatre.

They slide into their seats just as the lights dim, Lucas grumbling under his breath as he collapses into his chair.

“We missed the previews,” he complains like it’s a personal betrayal.

“Previews are lies,” Maggie murmurs, stretching her legs out, “They show you all the good parts so you feel manipulated into staying.”

Will digs into his backpack, the soft crinkle of wrappers loud in the sudden hush, and starts passing candy and drinks down the row. Maggie accepts a box of candy with a quiet thanks, popping one into her mouth as the studio logo flashes onto the screen.

Day of the Dead sputters to life, colors washing over their faces. The theater settles and someone a few rows down shushes aggressively.

And then not even two minutes in, the projector cuts. The screen snaps to black. The theater fills with a collective groan, voices overlapping in irritation.

“Seriously?” someone calls out.

“Did we pay for this?” another voice complains.

Maggie straightens in her seat, candy forgotten in her hand. The darkness feels heavier than it should, like it’s pressing inward. The chatter around them fades. A few long minutes pass before the projector whirs back to life, light flooding the room again. Cheers break out and the movie resumes like nothing ever happened.

But Maggie doesn’t look back at the screen.

The chill crawls down her spine. She swallows and turns her head just enough to look at Will.

His eyes are wide and unfocused. One hand is clenched tight around the back of his neck.

They lock eyes. The don’t need to exchange words, just a look of awful, shared understanding.

Maggie’s stomach drops.

“Hey,” Mike whispers from the other side, leaning forward, “You okay?”

Will nods quickly.

“Yeah,” he says, “I’m fine.”

Maggie knows that’s a lie.

She shifts closer, her knee brushing Will’s, and she reaches out. Her hand settles over his arm, warm and steady. She focuses on him, on the familiar buzz of fear under his skin, and gently pulls.

The fear doesn’t disappear, but it eases, sliding off Will and settling into her instead.

Will exhales. Maggie keeps her eyes on the screen now, jaw tight, pretending to watch the movie while something cold coils in her chest.

When the movie finally ends, the Byers siblings don’t linger. There’s no arguing about favorite scenes, no post-movie chaos. Will’s already on his feet before the credits finish rolling, Maggie not far behind him, both of them visibly eager to put walls and familiar creaks between themselves and whatever had brushed too close in the dark.

The bike ride home is quiet at first. Maggie breaks the silence eventually. She always does.

“So,” she says lightly, “you felt that too, huh?”

Will’s shoulders tense just a bit. He nods, eyes fixed on the road ahead.

“Yeah,” he says, “The Mind Flayer isn’t gone.”

Maggie exhales slowly.

“Yeah,” she mutters, “That’s what I was afraid of.”

They ride for another moment before she glances over at him, softening.

“Hey,” she says, gentler now, “Don’t worry, Sunshine. We’ve beaten it before. We can do it again.”

Will offers a small, sideways smile.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “We can do it.”

The house feels like a relief when they finally get there. Joyce greets them with her usual worried warmth, fussing just enough to be comforting instead of suffocating. Maggie responds on autopilot, shrugging off her jacket and mumbling a promise to get sleep before immediately making a beeline for her bedroom.

She pushes the door open, already half-prepared to drop her bag, face-plant onto the mattress, and mentally disappear for a few blessed hours.

Instead, she freezes.

Nancy Wheeler is sitting on the edge of her bed like she’s been there awhile. Legs crossed, posture careful, shoes lined up neatly by the door as if she’s subconsciously trying to prove she belongs. The lamplight catches the side of her face when she looks up, worry plainly stretched across her features.

“Is everything okay?” Nancy asks softly, “You look tired.”

Something in Maggie loosens immediately. Her shoulders drop and the tight coil in her chest unwinds.

“Hey,” she says, “I was gonna ask you the same thing.”

Nancy’s eyes flick over her face, lingering a second too long. She’s always been observant, but tonight there’s something sharper in it, like she’s reading between the lines Maggie didn’t mean to write.

“Something happened,” Nancy says.

Maggie exhales through her nose, a tired half-smile tugging at her mouth.

“Something always happens,” she replies, “But I’m okay. Promise.”

She reaches out before she can second-guess herself, fingers brushing Nancy’s wrist and curling there, tugging her closer.

Nancy hesitates for half a heartbeat. Then she steps in, hands settling at Maggie’s waist like they’ve done it a hundred times already, thumbs warm through fabric.

“You don’t have to pretend with me,” Nancy says softly.

Maggie swallows, “I know.”

They stand there, close enough that space becomes irrelevant. Maggie can feel Nancy’s breath when she exhales, the subtle hitch when their foreheads brush together by accident. Neither of them moves away.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Maggie murmurs.

Nancy smiles, “I’ll always be here.”

That smile does something dangerous to Maggie’s resolve. Her grin softens, losing its usual edge.

“Good.”

She leans in slowly, deliberately, giving Nancy every possible second to pull away. Nancy doesn’t. Their lips meet in a kiss that’s unhurried, familiar, but heavier and charged, as if every word they haven’t said is being pressed between them. Maggie can feel the subtle catch in Nancy’s breath, the way her body leans in almost instinctively.

When they part, just slightly, Nancy rests her forehead against Maggie’s collarbone, fingers curling tightly in the fabric of her shirt, grounding herself yet refusing to let go. Maggie’s hands slide up Nancy’s back, warm, steady, protective, and a flicker of heat lingers in the contact.

“Come sit,” Nancy murmurs, voice low and almost breathless.

Maggie kicks the door shut with her heel, the soft click echoing in the quiet room. She lets Nancy guide her back, the bed dipping beneath them as Maggie climbs carefully onto the girl, hands slipping under her shirt.

Maggie glances down at Nancy, heart hammering, pulse quickening. Nancy looks back up, eyes dark. The world outside the room blurs into insignificance. Some battles can wait for the morning.