°🌟13🌟°

🌟CHAPTER 13🌟~°WILL THE WISE°~

*🌟Third Person's POV🌟*

Hailey stood frozen in front of Will, her hands gripping his shoulders as she desperately tried to shake him awake. But his eyes were moving rapidly beneath his eyelids, a nightmarish flicker that terrified her more than if they had been still.

Lucas found them on the field. Before he could get any closer, the teenage girl's head snapped up, her voice a blade of pure panic. "Lucas, get help!!! Now!!"

He didn't think twice, spinning on his heel and sprinting back toward the school. He didn't have to look far; he nearly collided with Dustin and a frantic Mrs. Byers near the entrance.

"What's going on? Where's Will?" she asked, her voice laced with a mother's primal fear.

"The field!" Lucas panted, already running back the way he came, everyone following in a desperate, fearful pack.

They found Will, Hailey, and Mike huddled together on the field. Will was still locked in his terrifying trance. "Mrs. Byers, I just found him like this! I don't know what's happening!" Hailey said, her voice shaking. The woman placed a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder before taking her place in front of her son.

"I think he's having another episode!" Mike pointed out, seeing how shaken Hailey was by her inability to help.

Mrs. Byers kept talking to her son in a low, soothing voice, pleading with him to come back to her. But there was no response, the silence stretching into something awful.

A sudden, ragged gasp tore from Will's mouth, as if he were drowning on dry air. His eyes snapped open, wide and disoriented. The collective sigh of relief from his friends was almost audible.

The group followed at a respectful distance behind the two Byers, not wanting to crowd the boy. They stopped by the school doors, a silent, worried sentinel group watching until the car disappeared from view.

"Okay, that totally freaked me out. Did that not freak you guys out?" Max questioned, breaking the heavy silence.

The group barely acknowledged her, their concern solely for their friend. Hailey shot a glare so venomous it could have curdled milk. Max wisely took a step back.

"Two episodes in two days," Lucas muttered, his voice grim. "It's getting worse," Mike agreed, his face pale. "You think it's True Sight?" Lucas asked.

Hailey's eyes snapped toward him. "Not here," she hissed, her voice low and dangerous. Lucas immediately cowered, realizing his mistake.

"What's True Sight?" Max asked again, but her question was met with stony silence. The party split up without another word, each carrying the heavy weight of worry home.

*~*🌟*~*

Hailey noticed her brother was acting stranger than usual that evening, quieter and more withdrawn. But, lost in her own thoughts about Will and the draining day, she didn't question him. They ate dinner in relative silence, and she retreated to her room to do homework before finally collapsing into bed, exhausted.

The next morning, she woke to an unusual quiet. A glance at her clock sent a jolt of panic through her-she was late. Dustin had already left without waking her. She cursed him under her breath as she scrambled to get ready, throwing on clothes and grabbing her bag.

Hailey didn't believe in speeding, but that morning she broke every personal rule, flying down the road like a woman possessed. Students in the high school parking lot had to leap out of her way as she screeched to a halt. She ran into the building with her head down, ignoring the glares shot her way.

In the gym, Coach blew his whistle. Steve found himself in another pointless scrimmage against Billy Hargrove. He just wanted to focus on the game, to lose himself in the physicality of it. But he felt lost, broken, and supremely irritated at the world.

"Let's go. Pass it up now. Get open!" Coach yelled from the side-lines.

Billy easily stole the ball from Steve, a cocky laugh echoing in the gym. "All right! All right, all right! King Steve. King Steve, everyone. I like it. Playing tough today," Billy mocked, bouncing the ball tauntingly.

"Jesus! Do you ever stop talking? Come on!" Steve snapped, his annoyance boiling over.

"What?! You afraid the coach is gonna bench you now that I'm here? Huh?" Billy bumped into him hard as he made an easy shot, sending Steve stumbling.

Steve was on the ground when Billy strutted over and held a hand out. He pulled Steve halfway up, his voice a false whisper of advice. "You were moving your feet. Plant them next time, draw a charge." Then, with a vicious smirk, he shoved Steve back to the ground just as the coach's whistle blew.

After the humiliating game, Steve welcomed the sting of the hot water in the showers, hoping it would wash away the frustration and the feel of the court floor beneath his palms. He was glad Hailey hadn't been in the stands to see Billy Hargrove dismantle "King Steve" piece by piece. The persona felt like a cheap costume now, one that didn't fit him anymore, and he didn't know who he was without it.

The water drowned out the world until it didn't.

"Don't sweat it, Harrington. Today's just not your day, man," Billy's voice sliced through the steam from the next stall.

Steve stiffened but said nothing, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Yeah. Not your week," Tommy H. chimed in, his voice dripping with false sympathy. He never knew when to stop. "You and the princess break up for one day, and she's already running off with the freak's brother." The chuckle that followed was grating and mean.

Steve just let the water hit his face. The news shouldn't have surprised him. It was the final, logical proof that everything with Nancy had been a lie. But the confirmation was a cold, sharp stone settling in his gut. Jonathan Byers. Of course. The guy she'd always really seen.

"Oh, shit. You don't know," Tommy continued, feigning shock. "Jonathan and the princess skipped yesterday. Still haven't shown. But that must just be a coincidence, right?" His laughter echoed as he walked away, the sound fading down the tiled room. He'd delivered his blow and was satisfied.

Steve gripped the wall, his knuckles turning white. He was braced for the next hit. He knew it was coming.

"Don't take it too hard, man," Billy said, his voice closer now. Steve heard the squeak of a faucet being turned off. "A pretty boy like you has got nothing to worry about."

Steve could almost hear the smirk in his voice.

"Plenty of bitches in the sea. Am I right?" Billy continued. The word bitches landed like a slap. It was so crude, so reductive. It made Steve's skin crawl. "I'll be sure to leave you some."

And then, the final, deliberate twist of the knife: "Maybe even that feisty little friend of yours. The one with the smart mouth and the killer eyes. Henderson, right? Seems like she could use a real man."

The water turned ice cold against Steve's skin.

Every muscle in his body coiled tight. A white-hot, possessive anger flared in his chest so suddenly it stole his breath. It wasn't just anger; it was a primal, territorial urge to put his fist through Billy's smirking face for even looking at Hailey, for reducing her to a conquest with that filthy word.

But beneath the rage, something else surged up, cold and terrifying: fear.

The fear wasn't of Billy. It was the fear that Billy, with his dangerous charm and brute confidence, might actually succeed. The fear that Hailey, who saw through everyone's bullshit, might not see through his. The fear that Steve had already blown his chance by being too hung up on Nancy to see what was right in front of him.

The confusion was paralyzing. An hour ago, his heart was a bruised, aching thing because of Nancy Wheeler. Now, it was pounding with a ferocity he hadn't felt in months, all because some jackass had mentioned Hailey Henderson's name.

Why? Why did the thought of Billy near her make him feel like this? Hailey was just a friend. The only person who listened. The one who told him he wasn't bullshit. The one who'd jumped in front of his car because she trusted him not to hurt her.

The memory of her in his passenger seat last night, the quiet understanding in her eyes, the way she'd known exactly what he needed... it crashed over him. It felt nothing like the performative, stressful perfection of his relationship with Nancy. It felt real. It felt solid.

And Billy Hargrove wanted to corrupt that. To break it. To turn something pure into something cheap.

The water ran cold. Billy was gone, leaving behind only the echo of his threat and the steam slowly dissipating around an utterly paralyzed Steve Harrington.

He wasn't just angry anymore. He was terrified, confused, and, for the first time, truly aware of a feeling for Hailey that was so much bigger and more complicated than friendship. And he had no idea what to do with it.

Steve was still rattled, the steam from the showers replaced by a confusing fog in his own mind. He barely registered the rest of his morning classes, Billy's words and the phantom image of Hailey's smile playing on a loop in his head.

When the lunch bell rang, he didn't go to his usual table. He found himself hovering near the doorway of the cafeteria, scanning the room until he spotted her. Hailey was sitting alone at a small table in the corner, a book propped up against her lunch bag, completely absorbed.

He took a steadying breath and walked over, the noise of the cafeteria fading into a dull roar behind him. "Hey. Henderson."

She looked up, a flicker of surprise in her eyes that quickly softened into a warm smile. "Hey, Harrington. You survive the rest of gym?"

"Barely," he said, sliding into the seat opposite her. He nodded at her book. "What's that? Something actually educational?"

"Trying to be," she said, dog-earing a page and closing it. The Once and Future King. "It's for English. Way more dragons and wizards than I expected, though. Figured you'd be with... other people." She didn't say Tommy and Carol, but they both heard it.

"Nah. Not really my scene anymore." He unpacked his own lunch, a pathetic-looking sandwich. "Their loss."

Hailey's smile widened just a fraction, and Steve felt a weird, sudden victory, like he'd scored a point just by making her smile. They ate in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, a stark contrast to the chaotic mess of his thoughts.

"You okay?" she asked finally, her head tilting. "You seem... quieter than usual. And not just the Nancy-kind of quiet."

He looked at her, really looked at her. The way she noticed things about him, the way she could read his moods when no one else could even be bothered to look. Billy's crude words echoed in his mind-feisty little friend-and they felt so insultingly inadequate to describe her.

"I'm just... thinking," he said, which was the understatement of the century.

"About?" she prompted gently, not pushing, just offering an opening if he wanted to take it.

About how I might be a complete idiot. About how the thought of that Hargrove jerk even talking to you makes me want to break something. About how your smile is the first real thing I've seen all day.

Instead, he said, "Just... stuff. Life. It's stupid."

"It's not stupid if it's bothering you," she said simply, and he believed her. She had a way of making him feel like his feelings weren't bullshit.

The bell rang, startling them both. Lunch was over too soon. As they gathered their things, Steve found himself saying, "I'll walk you."

Hailey raised an eyebrow. "It's just to Chemistry. I think I can manage the treacherous hallways of Hawkins High."

"Humour me," he said, trying for his old, easy charm. It felt a little rusty, but it worked. She shrugged and fell into step beside him.

Walking with her was different. He was hyper-aware of her presence, of the space between them. He could smell the faint scent of her shampoo-something like apples-and he noticed the way she tucked a curl behind her ear when she was thinking. He'd never noticed that before. How had he never noticed that?

They weaved through the crowded hallways, and Steve instinctively moved to walk on the outside, a habit from walking with Nancy. But with Hailey, it didn't feel like a performance. It felt natural, like he just wanted to make sure no one bumped into her.

"So," she said, glancing up at him. "You're sure you're okay? You're being weirdly... chivalrous."

"Can't a guy walk a friend to class without getting the third degree?" he deflected, his voice lighter than he felt.

"Not when the guy is Steve Harrington and the friend is me," she said with a laugh. But it wasn't a bitter laugh. It was genuine, and it made something warm unfold in his chest.

They reached her classroom door too quickly. The hall was still swarming with students, but for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of them in a bubble.

"Well," she said, turning to face him. "Thanks for the escort service. I feel very protected from...", she glanced around, "...locker-related threats."

"Anytime, Henderson," he said, and he meant it. He meant it so much it almost scared him.

She held his gaze for a second longer than necessary, her smile softening. Then she turned to go. Without thinking, spurred by an impulse he didn't fully understand, Steve reached out and gently caught her wrist.

She stopped, looking back at him, a question in her eyes.

The words were on the tip of his tongue. Don't talk to Billy Hargrove. Stay away from him. He's not... he's not what you deserve. But he couldn't say it. He couldn't sound like a controlling jerk. He couldn't claim a right he didn't have.

So, he just squeezed her wrist gently and said the only true thing he could. "See you after school?"

Her expression was unreadable for a heartbeat, then she nodded. "Yeah. See you then, Steve."

She slipped into the classroom, and Steve stood there for a moment, alone in the crowded hallway, his skin still buzzing where his fingers had touched her wrist. He felt more confused than ever, but for the first time all day, the confusion was laced with something that felt an awful lot like hope.

The final bell was a release. Steve had spent the entire last period drumming his fingers on his desk, his focus shot. He was out of his seat before the echo died, his steps quick as he weaved through the throng of students flooding the hallway. He didn't head for the parking lot. Instead, he planted himself by the lockers near the science wing, right where he'd left her.

He leaned against the cool metal, trying to look casual, like he always loitered here. His heart was doing a weird, nervous tap-dance against his ribs. What if she'd already left? What if she thought he was kidding? What if-

The door to her chemistry class opened, and she was one of the first out, shouldering her backpack. She spotted him immediately, a small, surprised smile touching her lips. She made her way over to him.

"You weren't kidding about the escort service, huh?" she said, falling into step beside him as they joined the river of students heading for the exits.

"I'm a man of my word, Henderson," he said, the practiced charm coming a little easier this time. It felt different with her, less like a mask and more like... himself.

They pushed through the main doors, the afternoon sun hitting them. The chaos of the parking lot erupted around them-slamming car doors, yelling, engines revving. Steve's eyes instinctively scanned for a specific black Camaro. It was nowhere in sight. The knot of tension in his shoulders loosened a fraction.

He walked her to the driver's side of her car, another old habit that felt new and purposeful.

"So," she said, turning to face him, digging her keys out of her bag. "What's on the agenda for the great Steve Harrington this fine afternoon?"

You. Talking to you. Figuring out why I feel like I'm going to jump out of my skin. "Dunno," he shrugged. "Not much. Avoid my house. My dad's probably doing a post-mortem on my tragic performance at that scrimmage."

Hailey's face softened with sympathy. "He didn't see the part where Billy cheated, then."

"He doesn't see a lot of things," Steve said, and the words came out harsher than he intended. He looked away, embarrassed.

"Hey." Her voice was gentle. She'd picked up on it, of course she had. "You wanna get out of here? We could... I don't know, get a burger? My treat. You look like you could use a win."

The offer was so simple, so kind. It was the exact opposite of the dramatic, stressful dates he was used to. It sounded perfect.

He wanted to say yes. God, he wanted to. But the image of Nancy and Jonathan, skipping school together, flashed in his mind. He'd just gotten out of one messy relationship. The last thing he wanted was for Hailey to be his rebound. She deserved better than that. She deserved someone who was sure.

The thought was so clear, so certain, that it almost shocked him. Since when did he think about what people deserved?

He couldn't. Not yet.

"Nah, you don't have to do that," he said, shaking his head. He forced a grin. "I'll survive. Gotta go... polish my trophy for 'Most Improved in Getting My Ass Kicked' or something."

She studied his face for a moment, and he felt seen, right down to his soul. She knew he was deflecting. But she didn't push. She never pushed.

"Okay," she said softly, unlocking her car door. "Well, the offer stands. If you get bored of admiring your trophies." She opened the door and slid into the driver's seat, rolling the window down. "Thanks for walking me."

"Anytime," he said again, and he meant it more than ever.

He watched her pull out of the parking spot, giving her a small wave as she drove off. He stood there long after her car had turned onto the road, the noise of the parking lot fading around him.

He felt a confusing mix of relief and regret. He'd done the "right" thing, he thought. The noble thing. But the right thing felt incredibly lonely.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, he turned and walked slowly toward his BMW, the weight of the afternoon settling back onto his shoulders. He was no closer to understanding the mess in his head, but one thing was becoming painfully, beautifully clear: Hailey Henderson was his favourite person to be confused with.

Dustin had hoped hitching a ride with his sister would get him home fast. He hadn't counted on her getting detention for nearly mowing down a group of students. He couldn't believe she'd done that, but then he remembered he'd never woken her up like he usually did. A pang of guilt shot through him.

When she finally parked the car outside their house, Dustin bolted inside without a word. Hailey would normally have ignored his odd behaviour, but the memory of the creature from the Upside Down-the one they were still desperately searching for-made her follow him.

"Hey, Dusty-bun!" Mrs. Henderson greeted her son, who blew right past her. "Hi, hey. Hey, Mom," he mumbled, not breaking stride toward his room. "Everything okay?" she asked, noticing his unusual demeanour. "Yeah, everything's fine. Yeah," he called back, disappearing down the hall just as Hailey entered the house.

"Hey, Mom," she greeted, giving her mother a quick kiss on the cheek. "Hey, sweetheart. How was your day?" "Eventful, I guess," Hailey said, her eyes already tracking toward her brother's room. She could hear him talking to someone.

"Dart, I've gotta talk to you, buddy. It's about my friend, Will. I think..." His voice cut off abruptly.

The sudden silence had her pushing his door open. The scene inside made her blood run cold. The turtle cage was shattered. A strange, clear goo was splattered across the desk and floor. Dustin was holding a piece of sloughed-off, translucent skin, staring at it in utter horror.

"What the hell?" Hailey asked, her voice loud in the stunned silence.

Dustin jumped, looking up at his sister with wide, terrified eyes. A low, wet, screeching sound came from behind his couch.

They both turned slowly. A trail of dark blood led behind the furniture. Peering around it, their hearts stopped.

Dart-now three times its original size, with a gaping, flower-like mouth-was busy devouring their cat, Mews. It turned toward the siblings, its face unfurling to release a terrible, piercing screech that promised they were next.

*~🌟~*