❦ Madwheeler trilogy ❦ [untitled]

002. "It doesn't have anything to do with you."

March 18, 1985
Hawkins, Indiana

"Max, open this door! Now!" Max's step-father, Neil, shouted through the thin walls of their house. It was nearly 5:30 in the morning, and Max quickly became aggravated at her step-father's intrusive yelling.

Her eyes were puffy and her cheeks were stained from the night before. She sat up on her small mattress, and swiftly brought her hand up to her head. The amount of crying she had done last night caused an overnight headache, and it hurt like no other.

The tired girl tip-toed around her room, avoiding her pile of shoes, a stack of clothes, and her skateboard repair tools.

"Max, get your ass out of bed! If you're late for school, there'll be consequences," Neil shouted at her again. Moments later, she could hear him fussing at Billy as well.

Small slits of sunlight shone through the window in her bedroom, illuminating the space. Max threw on whatever she grabbed out of her dresser drawers and hoped it matched. She couldn't be bothered to put any effort into her outfit. She didn't care anymore.

Unlocking her door, Max stepped out into the hallway with her skateboard in hand, and left for school. It was a fair ride to the middle school; she had to leave by 7:30 to get to class on time.

It was now 6:45. Max had almost an entire hour before she had to start skating towards her school. However, Max had a different place in mind to visit. The redhead needed someone she could confide in, someone who she trusted with her life: Will Byers.

[setting jump; now at the Byers' residence]

Max knocked on the wooden door vigorously, almost sounding like a wood pecker on a tree.

The door swung open, revealing Joyce, Will's constantly-frantic mother.

"Oh Max, what a pleasant surprise! Here, come in, come in. What can I do for you?" The sweet woman gushed. Max always saw Joyce as her mother-figure, especially since Joyce fiercely protected all of the kids during the incidents involving Will and the Mind Flayer.

Max simply smiled before replying, "Can I speak to Will? It's urgent."

"Oh, yeah, of course! Let me make sure he's up," she quickly turned on her heel and reached Will's bedroom door, knocking loudly.

"Will, honey, get up! Max is here to see you, and she says it's important!"

Max could hear him rustling around, knocking over crayon boxes and loose stacks of paper in his frenzy to meet the redheaded girl in his living room.

His bedroom door opened, and quickly closed again after Will exited the room. His eyes were droopy, and he looked like he could fall asleep at any moment. But still, it was urgent that Max talked to him. Now.

"What's up?" Will asked while rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Not much, I just needed to talk to you about something important."

Will nodded his head, but didn't give an audible reply.

"Right... Okay, so first I need your opinion on something."

"And what would that be?"

"Do you think Mike and Eleven are together too much? Like they're always with each other. Don't you think they should calm down with the gross, sappy bullshit?" Max questioned the small boy.

Will was silent. He gave no indication of even hearing what Max had said. After a short pause, Will drew in a long breath.

"Honestly, Max, it's not my place to say that they spend too much time together. Their relationship is their business. Why are you so upset about this anyway? It doesn't have anything to do with you," Will said with a calm demeanor. He never got angry over stuff like this. Sometimes it was frustrating how calm Will could be.