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chapter thirteen the voice of a ghost
Hope.
There were a lot of things that Alex used to hope for when she was little. She got some of those things because her parents could afford them and they didn't know how else to make up missed dance recitals and school plays while they were tucked away in their offices. Of course, Alex knew what they were doing—she was smart, too smart for her own good, they used to say—buying compliance out of her. But Alex was okay with this relationship constructed of bank transactions because then, she had hope. Because at least they cared enough to feel guilty. So maybe, that guilt would manifest until they decided that they could afford to look up from their work and see their life—their bare house and two kids. But that hope had always been fickle.
But this hope is different. This hope is radiant and infectious and tangible because right now, Alex thinks that anything is possible. This is the kind of hope that overpowers the pits of anger that dwell deep inside of Alex, the kind of hope that makes her heart light up with joy. Dustin and Lucas catch her up to speed because seemingly everything, everywhere, all at once has happened between the hours that Will was found dead and this very moment, and Alex isn't there to witness it.
They pile into the AV Room, one after another. Alex is the last one in and Mike slides the bolt into place behind her, and Alex thinks that this might be the start of his acceptance. She's sealed in on the inside rather than sealed out because she half expects Mike to slam the door in her face before she can enter the room. Or maybe, he just doesn't want to deal with the calamity of Alex pounding on the door, because locked doors have never done much to stop Alex.
"Come on," Mike whispers. Eleven follows him through the cramped room with the overhead lamp as their only source of dim lighting. He pulls out the single chair for Eleven to sit down in as the rest crowd around them.
"Now what?" Dustin wonders.
"She'll find him," Mike answers flipping the switches of the Heathkit. He turns back to the girl. "Right, El?"
El looks pale in the dim light with her eyes locked on the radio before her. Alex feels the compulsion to put a hand on her shoulder and squeeze it tight. Eleven glances up at her and Alex only gives her a soft smile. "You got this."
Eleven nods and Alex thinks she sees the ghost of a smile on her face. Radio static fills the room as Eleven places her hands flat against the table. Her eyes close and the same high-pitched ringing fills the air once more. Her eyes seem to be swimming beneath the lids as if searching for something in the landscapes of her imagination. The light above them flickers and dims and the boys look at each other in amazement.
