𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐡, 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍

𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐡, 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐄
JUNE 30TH, 1985

Mike slumped further into the couch, his face buried in his hands, voice muffled as he whined, "What's wrong with me? Why would she do this to me?"

"Nothing's wrong with you!" Lucas replied quickly, trying to diffuse the situation. His voice carried the weariness of someone who'd had this conversation more than once. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, trying to get through to Mike. "You didn't do anything wrong, man."

Mike wasn't having it. He pulled his hands away from his face, eyes red from hours of sulking. "What did I do wrong? What could I have done wrong?" His voice cracked slightly, filled with frustration and confusion, like he was desperately trying to piece together a puzzle that didn't make sense.

Henry, sitting beside him, barely registered the conversation. His mind was elsewhere—stuck on Scarlette, and how she hadn't answered the phone earlier. He could feel his phone sitting heavy in his pocket, like a weight pulling at him, reminding him of her silence. She never ignored him like that. Had she seen him talking to that girl at the mall? His stomach twisted at the thought. He'd only been asking for advice—something to get Scarlette for her birthday—but now it was all he could think about.

Lucas sighed, exasperated. "Do I have to go through this again?" His patience was wearing thin, but he kept trying to console Mike. "Look, man, it's not you. You didn't do anything wrong."

Mike wasn't letting it go. "I just don't understand what I did to deserve this," he said, his voice catching with emotion. "I was good to her. I—I was always there for her. What did I do?"

"Nothing!" Lucas insisted, louder this time. "Nothing. That's my whole point—you're the victim here." His words were firm, as if repeating them enough would finally make Mike believe it.

But Mike wasn't listening. He stared blankly at the floor, a pained expression on his face. "I know... It's just, why is she treating me like this?" His voice was a fragile whisper, like he was on the verge of breaking.

Henry rolled his eyes slightly, not out of annoyance at Mike, but because his own thoughts were too tangled up to care. He wasn't even sure what Lucas and Mike were arguing about anymore. All he could think about was Scarlette's name lighting up his screen, the unanswered call, the hollow feeling of waiting for her to reach back out.

He replayed the scene from earlier, standing in the mall, talking to that girl. Did Scarlette see us? The possibility gnawed at him. It had been innocent, just a quick conversation to figure out what Scarlette might like as a gift. But still, if she'd seen them, it might've looked like more. His chest tightened as he thought about her, picturing her disappointed face. The way she would get quiet when she was hurt, shutting him out instead of talking things through. What if she thought he didn't care?

STARCOURT MALL

Henry stood awkwardly near the jewelry kiosk, his eyes scanning the display of necklaces and bracelets, none of which seemed like something Scarlette would actually want. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. Why did I think this would be easy? He was about to leave when he spotted a girl around his age standing nearby, admiring a pair of earrings. She seemed approachable enough, so he decided to ask for help.

"Hey, uh... do you mind if I ask you something?" Henry began, stepping closer. The girl looked up from the display, giving him a friendly smile.

"Sure, what's up?"

Henry rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a little ridiculous. "Okay, so it's my girlfriend's birthday coming up, and I have no idea what to get her. I was thinking maybe jewelry, but I don't want to get something she'll hate."

The girl laughed lightly, making Henry feel a little less stupid. "Oh, I get it. The whole 'I don't know what girls like' situation, huh?"

"Pretty much," Henry said with a grin. "I mean, I'm already in dangerous territory just trying to figure out what she'd wear. I don't want to mess this up, or I'll be in boyfriend jail for sure."

The girl chuckled again, shaking her head. "You're not alone. My boyfriend's the same way. He once bought me a necklace that I was allergic to, and we spent our anniversary at the ER." She smiled, clearly amused by the memory.

Henry snorted, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, wow, he really nailed it there, huh?"

"Right?" she said with a grin, her laughter more relaxed now. "But it's the thought that counts, right?"

Henry nodded, feeling more at ease. "Exactly. But I think I'd rather avoid any trips to the ER, so... any ideas on what girls actually like?"

The girl glanced back at the display, tapping her finger on her chin. "Well, it depends on her style. If she's into simple things, maybe something like this..." She pointed to a delicate silver bracelet with a small heart charm. "It's sweet, not too flashy, and thoughtful. Something like that could work."

Henry studied the bracelet and nodded. "Yeah, that's not bad. She'd probably like that." He paused, then grinned, leaning in slightly. "Thanks for the advice. You might've just saved me from a tragic boyfriend fail."

The girl laughed again, shaking her head. "No problem! Just tell her you put a lot of thought into it, even if you didn't. She'll love it."

"Noted," Henry said with a smirk. "I'll definitely make it sound like I went on some epic quest to find the perfect gift."

As they shared one last laugh, Henry felt a sense of relief. It was just a quick conversation, innocent enough, but he couldn't shake the nagging thought that if Scarlette had seen them, she might have gotten the wrong idea. After all, he'd barely explained anything to her before he rushed off. He thanked the girl once more and hurried away, hoping this whole gift thing would pay off.

WHEELER HOUSEHOLD

Henry shifted in his seat, barely catching anything Mike and Lucas were saying. His foot tapped against the floor as he checked his phone again—still nothing from Scarlette. His stomach churned, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

"I think I'm gonna head out," Henry said abruptly, standing up and grabbing his jacket.

Mike, still mid-rant about Eleven, furrowed his brow. "What? Dude, we're just getting to the part where you're supposed to help me figure this out. You can't leave now!"

"Yeah, man, what's up with you?" Lucas added, giving him a curious glance. "You feeling okay?"

Henry forced a weak smile, trying to mask the nervous energy boiling inside him. "Yeah, I just—uh, I'm not feeling great. I think I'm coming down with something." He rubbed his forehead for effect. "Probably better if I just head home early."

Mike groaned dramatically, slumping further into the couch. "You can't leave me to deal with this alone! Come on, Henry."

Lucas joined in, his voice softer but still protesting. "Yeah, you sure? You looked fine a minute ago."

Henry could feel the pressure building in his chest, his pulse racing faster with every second he stood there. He had to get out, had to call Scarlette, had to know why she didn't pick up.

"I'll see you guys later," he muttered, his voice a little too clipped as he headed toward the door. "Promise."

Without waiting for their responses, Henry bolted up the stairs, leaving behind Mike's confused protests and Lucas's concerned glances. His nerves felt like they were on fire, the pit in his stomach only growing as he stepped out into the cool evening air.

a/n
ok maybe we forgive henry