Mike booed along with the crowd. Shit, Lucas wasn't doing so well out there, and by the look on Will and Jonathan's face, even they knew it. If Lucas didn't make the last goal, they would never win and, for the first time, Hawkins Rugby team would lose its five month winning streak because of the Wolfhounds.

"What did i miss?" Max asked, popping a piece of popcorn into her mouth, and set the warm container overfilling with buttery corn goodness between her and Mike. Mike ignored the fact that she was literally laser-ing the side of his head with her ocean eyes. The game was more important than his falling apart love life.

"If Lucas doesn't get one last goal, the whole team will suffer and Hawkins won't be able to compete at the Quinton High Rugby tournament next month." Will explained, his wide doe brown eyes fixed on the perplexing game before them. Max didn't seem to understand a lick of what Will had just said, nevertheless she continued watching with mild curiosity.

"But doesn't this happen every weekend?"

"Only four times a year. This is the third. The fourth is in two weeks time." Mike said.

The four watched as the players passed sideways to each other, the ball disappearing from one Hawkins High student to a Quinton. "You do know how Rugby works right?" Mike asked, finally facing Max. She glanced at him before nodding her head briefly, "Yeah, Dad showed me how to play when i was ten."

In possession of the ball was Lucas, his fast form a blur as he darted and quickly threw it backwards towards Troy. Troy caught it, and threw it to Alex, who scored another goal for Hawkins High. 20-20, they were now tied with Quinton High. One more shot, one more win, would determine if Hawkins or Quinton would be able to make it to the tournament.

"YOU CAN DO IT, LUCAS!" Jonathan yelled, pumping a fist furiously into the air along with hundreds of others that supported Hawkins High. "GO LUCAS!" Mike screamed, letting out a roar in the name of sportsmanship. Max pumped a fist into the air as well, but didn't unleash a scream or shout. Their faces were red and shiny with sweat.

Lucas was in possession of the ball again, passing it to Jacob, who threw it to Troy. Troy immediately threw the ball, sending it flying, until it flew clean through and made the final goal that Hawkins needed.

"And Hawkins High wins!" The commenter squeaked into the mic, pumping his thin arm into the air in a show of celebration.

Half the stand stood in celebration, whooping and shouting like never before, their eyes bright with exhilaration. Will roared and hugged his brother tightly before jumping up and down. Mike watched with a bright smile, watching as Lucas shook hands with the president leader of Quinton and looked up at them, beam as bright as a lighthouse.

Of course Lucas had won. He was always precise, careful with his choices. Never throwing caution to the wind. Of course Lucas would win. He always won.

"Should we get down to the pitch to celebrate?" Max asked, nudging her head towards the large green field and Lucas, who was waving at them. Her dark blue eyes were bright and her tan face was flushed. She looked beautiful like that, even when she was sweaty she was still the most mesmerising thing Mike had ever seen. There was no one quite like Max. Maybe El. Damm it Wheeler, you're doing it again.

The crowds were quickly dispersing and it was almost eleven. Looking down at his black watch, Mike groaned. "It's almost eleven, Max."

"So?" She snorted in reply, looking away from him and waving to Lucas. The dark male waved back enthusiastically. Mike's stomach sank and his eyes darkened in jealousy as he watched the short exchange between the two.

"You have a curfew." God, he sounded like Steve. Like a mom.

"Yeah but we can still congratulate Lucas before we leave. It's fine, Mike. Stop being such an ass and relax." Max assured, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing softly before following after Will and Jonathan down the steps.

Leaving Mike behind again, confused and flustered, yet a warm feeling spread throughout his body at her touch. She liked that he looked out for her. Did that mean that she liked him? And he wasn't an ass. He was being safe. Cautious.

No, he was going to put aside his messed up love life and congratulate one of his best friends on a huge win.

Easier said than done.

________

His hands smelled like popcorn and her hair smelled like syrup and sweat. Somehow, they were going to get caught. Somehow, Susan Hargrove would know that they were never at a library studying to begin with.

They were threading on eggshells. They had to be careful.

"There. Right there. Park there and i'll get out and walk back." Mike obeyed and carried out what she demanded. But he wanted so badly to drive her home and make sure that she was safe. But the fear in her eyes, the fear of not only getting caught, but by being punished for enjoying herself late on a Sunday night, hours before Monday stopped Mike from insisting. It was her fear, that Mike Wheeler only obeyed when she told him to stop.

Mike's entire being felt radioactive. He felt like he was glowing a bright green and someone would soon call him out. He could feel the muscles beneath his skin stretched taunt and tense like a rubber band as his eyes swept over the roads beyond. His headlights illuminated another dark and cold road back home. The raven-haired boy tried to ignore the soft feeling of Maxs hand as she squeezed his shoulder as a goodbye. He tried to distract himself from remembering her fear.

Max's fear was something he couldn't put out of his head.

He never wanted Max to be fearful. She looked like a kicked kitten when she was fearful, and it broke his heart. He knew she had a horrible family that she hated and her skateboard was gone, and he wished he could be there for her when she was sad, tired, and just wanted company. He wanted to be there for her. He wanted to hold her hand again and feel her soft freckled hands squeeze his shoulder, he wanted those soft hands in his hair and her warm arms and body wrapped around him like a blanket. She made him feel safe. So safe and sound like a little kid with his teddy.

Max got off and slammed the door shut. She waved at him, her smile as thin as paper and barely there, before making her way down the pavement. Taking a left, Max disappeared for the night, leaving him behind once again.

She always left him behind, always hesitant and cautious, so worried. She always tried to keep everyone satisfied and happy, despite her pessimistic attitude. But when she allowed herself to let go and have fun, she was a thrill to be around with and watch. She was untamed when she was herself, cheeks flushed and hair everywhere, the kind of sight he wanted to wake up to every morning and kiss "sweet dreams" to every night.

What would it be like to see the world through Max Mayfields eyes? To see how the world made itself shine and sully itself through her dark sapphire eyes that pierced his soul.

Stop. Thoughts like this will drive you crazy if you keep thinking about them.

So he locked them away and left the empty street for home. His heart heavier than it was before.

________