sparks | henry creel

019

Sunday I went out to breakfast with everyone- and I mean everyone. Lucas and Chrissy had come home from the basketball tournament, and they actually won, which is a good representation of Hawkins High.

It was actually supposed to be a celebration of them winning, but once everyone found out about last night, I became the topic of conversation. Henry had came along, and since no one knows he has powers, which sounds childish once I say it out loud, but it's the truth. He can move things with his mind, he can kill people with his mind. I wish eleven was here, she'd know what to say. Maybe. Her vocabulary is limited, just like Henry's vocabulary.

Everyone bombarded me with questions, just like the cops did last night. Except my friends aren't the ones accusing me of killing someone.

"Do you know who killed him?"

"Is the Mind Flayer back?"

"Is Billy back?"

"Are you serious? Max is literally right there!"

I didn't say anything the police didn't already let out to the public. They did protect my name, though, so no one at the school besides my friends are going to know that it was me who witnessed everything happen.

I feel bad not telling the full truth to my friends, especially since I know they would know what to do. The one person I'd even consider telling is Mike, only because I know he knows the most about this, because he's been around someone the most who has the same abilities as Henry.

It's not like Henry is telling me not to tell them. He's actually been really quiet this morning, a little too quiet, actually. Although I'm sure everyone thinks that's because he doesn't know enough about the whole upside down world to have a opinion.

I'm lying to my friends because I am protecting him, because I feel obligated too. He killed someone for me. He risked years of trauma, a drain of energy if he's like El, and the chance of someone being in the wrong spot at the wrong time and seeing him.

I shouldn't feel that I should feel obligated to protect him because I didn't ask him to protect me.

Most of breakfast goes by fast. Henry and I spent most of Sunday hanging out in the living room until Granny came home and we transferred into my bedroom.

I can't stop thinking about the kiss. Does he find me attractive like I find him attractive? Surely he doesn't. I mean, I have a reason to find him attractive. He has nice skin, he has great hair, and he has a great body. Me? I almost have nothing.

Maybe that's just my self confidence talking, and maybe he thinks the same way I do, and he doesn't believe I'd find him attractive, and he's having this same dilemma.

So, as were sitting in the silence and he's reading one of Dustin's comics he let him borrow and I'm listening to my walkman, I realize maybe I just don't see myself enough to find myself attractive. I mean, I don't believe anyone who isn't conceited can find themselves attractive. And I don't think I'm conceited.

Maybe he just wanted to find a way to shut me up. That him kissing me didn't mean anything. Although, if that was true, it was a really shitty thing to do, cause I wanted my first kiss to be special.

Jesus, I need to stop over thinking!

I guess if he wanted to shut me up he could've easily covered my mouth with his hand like any normal person. Which, leads me to believe maybe he wanted that kiss. And don't forget he didn't pull away when you kissed him yourself.

I see him looking at me. I look over to him and he mouths something. Since I have music blasting in my ear, specifically The Ramones, I pretend I don't hear him. I'm too confused right now to talk to him right now. So I just turn over in my bed.

I wake up the next morning, still extremely tired. I guess screwing over my sleep schedule on Saturday wasn't the greatest idea. I sigh, walking over to Henry, who was sleeping calmly on the floor. I shake him awake and he looks up at me as if he's never seen me before. Then his eyes soften whenever he realizes who I am. "Hi sleepyhead. It's seven, we have to catch the bus in thirty minutes." I walk over to my dresser, grabbing another flannel shirt, with ripped jeans. "Sleeping here isn't the greatest idea, it's ruined my sleep schedule." He sighs, sitting up. "That makes the both of us," I turn around, smiling at him. "No, really. I used to wake up at five, and it's seven now." He sighs, now standing up. "You can change in here, I'm going to go to the bathroom." I leave the drawer open for him to scan through.

I walk over to my bathroom, shutting the door behind me.

After I'm dressed and fresh, totally didn't mean that to rhyme, I walk back into my bedroom and he's sitting on the bed, ready.

Dressed in my clothes.

"Hey, those are my clothes!" I whisper yell, not wanting to wake Granny.  "They smell nice." Is his only defense, and of course it's a strange sounding one. "Ugh, whatever. It's too late now." I open the window, climbing out. "I'll be waiting at the bus stop, meet me down there when you're ready."

He nods, sort of jogging into the bathroom.