the girl in the woods ... // elmax

chp 9.

The door swings open just as Max stares at the clock. The minute hand is a little over the three. He's slightly late.

Not that it would matter to Eleven.

Mike is standing in the doorway, talking to Eleven. About twenty minutes before, Max had helped her adjust the wig again so she could wear it without being looked at. She had also planned some things for her to do while she was alone.

A while ago, Will had tried to loop them all into drawing, and surprisingly, it worked a bit for Max. She had her mixtape and headphones, so she could draw all she wanted. And the flowers that she needed to take care of, and stuff like that.

She had clipped a walkie onto El, so Max could communicate with her if she needed to, or if she needed to get picked up. Most likely, Mike was going to take her to the movies all day. She had also given some money to her in case for popcorn or whatever.

Max couldn't say that it would make her happy to listening to Kate Bush all day and sketching for hours, but if it made Eleven happy...

Before leaving, Max suddenly grabs Eleven's hand in hers, pale fingers laced with hers. Max's hands were always cold, but somehow El's were the opposite. "Have fun, okay?" Max asks, smiling. Her headphones are already positioned by her neck, so she could start listening as soon as possible.

El smiles back. One step out the door, then two, before turning. "Can Max come?" She asks Mike, and he nods.

"Yeah, sure. The whole party's coming," he agrees, grinning at Max. He seems nicer, his actions more refined. It's almost like he's trying to impress Eleven.

The redhead's eyes widen, but she immediately shakes her head. "No, it's alright, I can stay," she defends, hands rising to her headphones situated at the back of her neck.

Mike narrows his eyes but shrugs, as if he'll take it for an answer. Now that Max glances out the window, she sees the whole party on their bikes, including Will this time. She guesses that he's gotten better.

The brunette tilts her head again and reluctantly leaves, as if unsure. Her eyes stay locked with Max's for a minute, even as she climbs onto the back of Mike's bicycle. 

Max sighs, wondering if she's done the right thing.

~

It's about four by now, and she's made plenty of drawings littering the floor. Eventually, she presses pause on her mixtape and takes her headphones off her neck. It's cool in the house, which shouldn't be surprising. It's mid-November. 

She's tried calling her house's number. She's practically a missing child. She wanted to let them know that she was safe, but a part of her wouldn't come back home if her step-father was still there. And she wanted to take care of Eleven, but some part of her with courage dialed the number, but no one picked up.

The second time she had tried calling, she was worried that Neil would answer the phone, so she stopped halfway and slumped on the couch. She stares at the ceiling for a while, unblinking, before sitting up with a sudden impulse.

She could go. 

Even if Mike was there, she still could go. Even if they saw a dozen movies, it was still better than lying down here. She had explored most of the house and had plenty of time to think.

About Eleven.

About Terry Ives.

She had searched the house and found a few old newspapers, ones about Terry and others saying she was going crazy. She had said that they had took her Jane.

Jane.

That would suit El, wouldn't it?

She was going to tell Eleven about all of this someday.