𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇 // ᵐⁱᵏᵉ ʷʰᵉᵉˡᵉʳ ¹

06

𝟬𝟲.
𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲

    Elise crossed her arms, sinking deeper into the passenger seat of Steve's car, the leather groaning beneath her as if sharing her annoyance. The engine thrummed under the hood, a steady purr that matched the ticking rhythm of her irritation. The world outside blurred by in streaks of green and gray, the town of Hawkins draped in its usual small-town dullness, but her thoughts were anything but muted.

    "You seen the news yet?" Steve said, breaking the tension with the subtlety of a sledgehammer. "The Byers' kid is missing. I honestly think he just ran away, hiding."

    Elise raised an eyebrow, feeling the sting in his words. "A twelve-year-old hiding for days with no food or water sounds totally reasonable."

    Steve shrugged, oblivious. "Maybe he's just sick of being around all of your asses. Honestly, can't blame him."

    Elise let out a dry chuckle. "Because disappearing off the face of the planet is exactly how I'd avoid you too."

    He smirked at that but didn't let up. "I'm serious. Kid's probably fine. Chief's crawling all over the place like this is some big conspiracy. It's Hawkins, not the X-Files."

    She shot him a sidelong glance. "Right, and the most dangerous thing in Hawkins is probably your hair products."

    Steve ran a hand through his perfectly-coiffed locks, almost as if to check. "Look, I'm just saying you guys are making a bigger deal out of this than it is. It's not like we're in some horror movie."

    Elise sighed and leaned back against the seat. "It's a missing case, Steven." Her voice dripped with annoyance, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes, "Maybe Farrah Fawcett should put a warning sign that says 'brain capacity is affected'."

    He shot her a look, half-annoyed and half-amused. "Oh, c'mon. I'm just trying to keep it real."

    "Yeah, well, if your version of 'real' involves making jokes about a missing kid, maybe keep that 'real' to yourself."

    The conversation lulled after that, Elise glancing out the window as Steve's words lingered. Typical Steve, trying to make light of everything. But she knew better than to let him get under her skin. That didn't mean she wouldn't throw a jab back whenever she could.

    By the time they reached school, Elise could already feel the simmering frustration boiling just beneath the surface. Mike Wheeler had been acting weird ever since they found the girl—Eleven, or whatever her name was—and it grated on her nerves. It wasn't just Mike being secretive, but the way he looked at her, like she was somehow in the way of their little adventure.

    "Elise, you coming or what?" Steve honked the horn to break her out of her thoughts.

    "Yeah, yeah," she muttered, climbing out of the car. "Thanks for the lift, King Steve," she said with a sarcastic bow, only to earn another smirk from her brother.

    "Anytime, peasant," he shot back, still riding the high of his own self-importance.

    She watched him drive away, and part of her wished he'd just keep going, far enough that she wouldn't have to hear another one of his half-baked theories about what happened to Will.