The Long Game, Lucas Sinclair

003. NVM HE'S DEAD

CHAPTER THREE.
1x03: Holly, Jolly

The next day, Sam "left for school" early to "study." This directly translated to: I'm going to Mike Wheeler's house so we can find Will Byers with the help of Eleven—this bald girl with superpowers!

Lying was becoming more normal than Sam wanted to admit.

There wasn't time to dwell upon it now. Sam, Lucas, Mike, and Dustin were gathered around their D&D table, Eleven sat on the basement's couch. She was once again playing with Mike's walkie-talkie. She really seemed to like it.

"We just tell our people we have AV Club after school," Mike said, trying to finalize their plan. "That will give us at least a few hours for Operation Mirkwood."

Sam nodded in understanding, as did Dustin. Lucas eyed Eleven on the couch.

"You seriously think that the weirdo knows where Will is?" he asked.

"Just trust me on this, okay?" Mike said, causing Lucas to begrudgingly nod. "Did you get the supplies?"

"Yeah," Lucas responded, now rummaging in his backpack. He listed his items as he pulled them out: "Binoculars... from 'Nam. Army knife... also from 'Nam. Hammer, camouflage bandana... and the wrist rocket."

"You're gonna take out the Demogorgon with a slingshot?" Dustin asked, unamused.

"First of all," Lucas said, offended, "it's a wrist rocket. And second of all, the Demogorgon's not real. It's made up. But if there is something out there, I'm gonna shoot it in the eye," he stretched the elastic of the wrist rocket toward Dustin, "and blind it."

Sighing, Mike nodded to Sam. "Sam, did you get anything?"

Upon being addressed, Sam lit up.

"Okay, so," she started, unzipping a separate bag she brought, pulling clothes out and addressing Eleven. "I've been thinking about it all night, and I just know you'd rock the grunge look." She tossed Eleven all the clothes, to which Eleven did not catch. "I brought you a green flannel, which will complement the black tee, and a pair of jeans. But if I'm being honest, the sweatpants you're wearing would work too. Plus, they're comfier. Oh! This part is my favorite," she commented, holding up a pair of black combat boots. "I don't really know your shoe size, but—"

"Sam," Mike interrupted, sounding annoyed.

Sam stopped in her tracks. She stared at the boys obliviously. They all looked the same.