Halley's comet | Steve Harrington

x. mike's a persuasive shit

"𝑺𝒉𝒊𝒕, 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒉, 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒆. 𝑰'𝒎 𝒐𝒏 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒂𝒚."

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

Jonathan had left about an hour ago. He had gone to look around the town again, searching through the forests around the area— it took him forever to convince Joyce to let him go.

Halley, on the other hand, was in her room, ferociously snipping at magazines her mother had given her about a week ago. Her notebook sat open to a half completed collage of a girl. Her face was taken from ripped portions of articles, fresh white letters mixing with those old and yellowing, and her hair was depicted with the myriad of flowers from an extensive home gardening section of Hawkin's newspaper.

Her plan for the night included exactly what she was doing, and maybe ice cream, if there was any in the freezer. She was pissed off at Lonnie, still scared shitless about what was going on with Will, and the memory of the girl from the woods, Eleven, kept popping up in her head.

Gently, she brought her hand up to her right cheek, prodding lightly, and cringing when her finger made contact. She had looked in the mirror and seen the angry red mark shining bright across her face when she and Jonathan had gotten back. Had it been any other time, Joyce would not have believed Halley's half-assed story of getting in a fight with someone at school.

Speaking of her mother, Joyce had been sitting at the couch for what Halley assumed was all day. The phone had supposedly rung once, but paired with the phone call, was, again, supposedly, something trying to get out of the walls. Halley hadn't heard of sleep deprivation affecting a person so quickly before, but there was no other explanation.

A ring came from the living room, jolting Halley out of the false sense of security coming from her magazines. She was up in seconds, making a beeline to the phone, but Joyce had gotten there first.

"Will?" her voice cracked desperately. The teen could pinpoint the exact moment the caller identified themselves as anyone other than her brother. It killed her to see her mother deflate so quickly. "Uh-huh, sure, just give me a second." she held the speaker against her hand, and turned to Halley, "it's for you." she handed over the phone, and proceeded to sit right back down on the couch, the same spot she had been when Halley had gotten home.

Halley held the phone up to her ear, leaning against the wall. "Hello?" she asked, she wasn't expecting anyone, and it was way too late for any telemarketer.

"Halley!" Mike's voice rang out, crackling slightly from the shitty connection the Byers's house had. "I really need your help on—" someone cut him off on the other end, and she couldn't make out the obvious argument. "Jesus, okay," he finally said, "I- We need some help— on homework. Can you come over?"

"You called me at," she looked at the clock above her mother, "ten thirty to ask for homework help, can't you ask your mom, maybe Nancy?" she looked over her shoulder and shrugged at the questioning look Joyce was giving her.