wipe out

. ✧ ・゜. +・o ✧

After two and a half hours of skating—give or take thirty minutes spent kissing in the bathroom—Gabe began to grow hungry. This was no surprise—he hadn't eaten since breakfast this morning, back at El Rodeo (El had been right: burritos for breakfast were surprisingly good)—but the fact that Mike and El agreed to take a break and sit down with them was. Gabe had thought it would've been just himself and Will, but instead, the four of them ended up skating up to the concession stand. But, while they had to wait in a long line of other hungry skaters and pay way more than they should for a basket of fries and four milkshakes, the actual meal itself—greasy as it was—was sublime. Gabe couldn't even find it in himself to be mad at Mike as he sat across from him, joking and laughing and recalling old times.

Obviously, there was going to have to be a conversation. But that could be later, when it didn't matter if the mood was ruined. For now, though, all Gabe wanted was this current peace. He hadn't been this content since his friends had moved away, and he was determined to savour this feeling for as long as possible.

He was dipping fries into his milkshake—strawberry, a flavour he'd only recently grown obsessed with—when Will slid his own cup over. He'd gotten vanilla, plain and simple (something that Alina would've probably called him basic for), and had already finished almost half of it. His upper lip was coated in a froth of white, and Gabe had to resist the urge to lean forward and wipe it off.

"You want to trade?" he asked. "I don't care what Alina says; vanilla is really good."

"If it's so good, then why do you want to trade?" Gabe teased. "I think I'll stick with my strawberry."

"Plus, you don't know whether or not he's got his spit all over the straw," Mike added. Which was ironic, considering the fact that he was just about to share with El. Both Gabe and Will forced a smile, and Will pulled his drink back to his chest.

"Fine. Your loss, Gabe."

Gabe reached out and popped off the milkshake's lid. Before Will could react, he'd already seized a fry and ducked it in the vanilla ice cream mixture. He popped it into his mouth and chewed with a genuine smile.

Will chuckled. "Hey!"

"Consider that my taste test."

"Vanilla is good," Mike insisted. "But I guess I should see if chocolate's worth the hype, too. Right, El?"

El giggled and nodded. Mike grabbed her cup and took a long slurp through the straw. "Mm-hmm, mm-hmm, mm-hmm. Yup, mine's better."

"No, it isn't," El argued.

"Milkshakes? Yum."

Without prompting, an unfamiliar voice injected itself into the conversation. Gabe lifted his head, only to find a blonde girl with a partial updo, dangling earrings, and a plethora of bracelets on her wrists skating up to them. She was trailed by a girl with dark hair, a boy with spiky ginger hair, and another boy with sunglasses perched upon his head. Gabe didn't know any of them, but they all looked to be around his own age.

The blonde girl leaned on the table, leering at Mike. "Where, oh where have you been hiding this handsome thing?"

Mike and El exchanged a look. "Uh," El started, "Angela, thi... this is Mike, my boyfriend."

Gabe sucked in a breath. This was Angela? This was the girl both Alina and Will had warned him about? What the hell was she doing here? What did she want with El?

Angela stuck out her hand for Mike to shake. "Angela. Pleasure."

"Heard a lot about you," he greeted. "It's really cool to finally meet some of El—Jane's friends."

"Friends?" Angela repeated. The teens behind her exchanged amused looks, and she herself chuckled a little. "Yeah. Super cool." Then she pursed her lips. "But I see we're missing someone. Where's Alina? You know, my other super friend?"

"She's in Hawkins," Gabe said. As he spoke, he searched Angela's face. There was no sign of a bruise from Alina's hit yesterday. She must have really been exaggerating if she'd tried to get Alina expelled for it. "You know, visiting her own boyfriend. Oh, sorry, where are my manners? I'm Gabriel Burton. I'm good friends with Jane, Will and Alina, and I've heard a lot about you, too. Will told me how helpful you were to Jane during her presentation yesterday. I'm sure your smashing advice really helped her crush the rest of it."

Will met Gabe's eyes and shook his head almost imperceptibly. But Gabe, always the motormouth, kept going.

"So, what are your plans for spring break? Visiting family? Going to the beach? God, you're so lucky to have beaches in California. We don't have any back in Hawkins. I've always wanted to go, though. If only the rest of our friends were here. We could have a beach day! You'd be invited, too, since you're such a great friend to Jane and Alina, right?"

Angela's lips twitched. She appeared as if it was a Herculean effort for her to not roll her eyes. "That's so cool," she said, in a tone that implied that it was far from it. "Anyway, you wouldn't mind if I steal Jane away for a minute, right? Come on, friend. Let's go skating."

She extended her hand. El stared at it as if it was a poisonous snake.

"I wanted to finish—"

"I'll hold onto that," the sunglasses boy said, snatching the milkshake right out of her hands. Then, before El could come up with any other excuses, Angela pulled her to her feet.

"Come on."

The group skated off, El trapped within Angela's hold. Immediately, Will got to his feet, staring after them with horror. Gabe joined him.

"Um. What do we do?"

"I don't know," he responded. "She's definitely planning something. We just have to figure out—" he cut himself off, his eyes locking onto the spiky-haired boy. Gabe followed his gaze, only for his heart to sink. The kid—who reminded him a lot of Daniel Tree, now that he thought about it—was holding a video camera. "Oh no."

"What?" Mike asked, standing up as well. Will swallowed heavily.

"El, she hasn't been telling you everything," he blurted.

"What are you talking about?"

"She's lying to you, Mike."

"Bullshit."

"No, listen to me. She's having problems here."

"Problems. Okay, what kind of problems?"

"Bullying problems," Gabe said. "Mike, this Angela girl is bad news. Alina told me in her letters that she's been... well, a mouthbreather to her and El all year. Will said that she ruined her diorama of Hopper yesterday!"

"What?" Mike sputtered. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah," Will said. "Dead serious."

Unfortunately, before Mike could press them further—and perhaps make his way over to Angela to give her a piece of his mind—the music that had been steadily playing in the background drew to a halt. The speakers turned on with a screech of feedback, and the DJ's voice crackled through.

"All right, everyone. This next song is dedicated to Jane, the local snitch."

In the rink, a spotlight lit up over El, illuminating her for the crowd. El looked up, squinting in the sudden light, right before a new song came on. Wipe Out by The Surfaris.

This couldn't be good.

As the song began to play, a group of various girls began to roll their way over to El. The first threw her arm out and shouted, "Freak! Go home!" The second sneered, "Loser!" A third shrieked mockingly, then a fourth, approaching until they'd all circled around a bewildered El. The ginger kid laughed, training his camera on her, and Gabe, Mike, and Will all exchanged a panicked look.

"She's a little baby!" The bullies mocked, linking hands. El was completely surrounded, now, unable to escape the ring. "Baby! Get off the rink!"

Mike glanced over to the DJ, his face tightening in anger when he did nothing but dance. Before Gabe could offer to head over there—El definitely needed him, right now—he was already leaving.

"Shit," he muttered. "Wait here, Will."

"Gabe—" Will sputtered. But Gabe had already started wobbling over to the rink, and he wasn't coming back, now.

Inside the ring, El had moved her hands to cover her ears, her face screwed up with tears. Anger surged through Gabe. How dare they do this to her? El didn't deserve it, not after the life she'd had. Not after all of the shit she'd gone through.

This was the kind of thing Gabe had dealt with back in Chicago. It shouldn't have ever been El.

"Hey!" he shouted, making his way toward his friend. To his dismay, not a single person was moving to defend El—instead, they were all laughing at her. "Hey! What the fuck are you doing?"

Angela—who had joined hands with the other girls, of course—gave him a sickeningly sweet grin. "Sorry, what was that?"

"Stop it, you pieces of shit!"

And they did. The music stopped, and the circle dissolved. Gabe was just about to let out a sigh of relief—at least they'd listened to him—when the speakers crackled again. The DJ's voice came, gleefully, through. "Wipeout!"

The boy with the sunglasses proceeded to throw El's milkshake over her. It splashed her in the face and on her dress, and the unexpected pressure caused her to slide backwards. She landed hard on her back, letting out a cry of pain, and the skaters burst into gleeful laughter.

Angela made her way over to El, leaning forward. "Didn't you see the sign, dummy? 'No food or drinks on the rink'." Then she laughed and skated away, turning back only to call out, "Say hi to your sister for me!"

El's eyes filled with tears as the spotlight clicked off. While Mike began to make his way over, screaming El's name, Gabe knelt in front of her as best he could with his skates. "Hey," he said, soft enough so only she could hear him. "Don't listen to those assholes, okay? You're amazing."

He held out his hand to help her up, and, to his surprise, she actually took it. Trembling, sobbing, she got up, only for her bullies to begin to crowd around her again. Gabe kept a firm grip on her hand and pulled her along, attempting to navigate the maze the roller rink had become.

When a pair of girls tried to knock right into him, he reached out and shove their chests. "Stay away, dickbags," he hissed. "Goddamn asswipes."

He'd never even been that close to El—she seemed to cling to Mike, Max and Alina over everyone else—but right now, a fierce sense of protectiveness had settled over him. No one was allowed to hurt his friends like this. Not a flock of Demogorgons, not the Mind Flayer, and certainly not some random girl. There was no way he was going to let that slide.

"Just ignore them," he told El, shouldering his way through the laughing crowd. Jesus, did people have anything better to do than make fun of an innocent girl. "Just focus on my voice. Come on, El. Just ignore them."

Someone elbowed him in the neck, and he very nearly fell right on his ass. It was only El's surprisingly strong grip that kept him upwards. He whirled around to glare at whoever that had been.

"Prick!"

It seemed like an eternity before the two of them finally made it out of the rink. There were a few people on the sidelines laughing, so Gabe steered El away, heading towards the arcade. "Hey," he said. "So, um. I'm not going to bother asking if you're okay. I mean, I did that when your leg... you know, and I swear I'm not going to make that mistake again. So, um. All I can say is that I know how much that must have hurt—I've been there, too. This is the kind of shit people in Chicago would pull. They thought it was really funny to make me look like a fool in front of everyone. I can't tell you the number of times I was pantsed... but this isn't about me. God, all I can say is that I'm really sorry, El. We're totally going to leave, now. You can go home, take a shower, and change clothes, and we can discuss how we're going to get Angela back. Because we're totally not letting her get away with this. Man, if only Alina was here..."

El let go of his hand and wiped her eyes. "I'm going to the bathroom," she blurted. "I just—I just want to—"

She didn't finish. Instead, she skated off, her head down.

Gabe didn't go after her. Instead, he stood, fuming from head to toe, angrier than he had been in a long time. His fists twitched at his sides, his eyes narrowed into slits, and his cheeks burned hot as an inferno. And perhaps he wasn't very menacing—Max had once told him he was about as intimidating as a puppy—but it didn't matter.

How dare they.

. ✧ ・゜. +・o ✧