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If someone were to ask Michelle, she would say that she didn't have *one* best friend - everyone in the Party was her best friend. That's what she had told Daisy that day when they were riding their bikes, and it was mostly true.
Lucinda, despite all of the bickering they had gotten in over stupid things, was probably her go-to person. They lived on the same street, so it was easy to go to each other's houses, and it sometimes felt like they had a special understanding of each other. But recently, Lucy had spent less and less time with them, because she was trying to be 'popular' and had integrated the cheerleading team. She understood why Lucy was doing this - being a black woman in their trash rural town was a shitty situation - and Michelle was in no place to judge someone for not being their authentic self - God knows she wasn't - but she had always thought that they would be the nerdy outcasts together. Seeing Lucy hang out with the people that had bullied them for years felt like a punch to the gut and a betrayal.
Max was also a good friend - but she would rather die than to admit this to his face. When he had first moved here in October of 84, Lucy and Daisy had immediately developed crushes on him, but Michelle had been reluctant to let him join their party. For the longest time, it had been just the four girls, until James appeared then disappeared, and letting someone else in their circle seemed unnecessary. Michelle had been fuming when she'd found out that Lucy had told him about the Upside Down without the authorization of the Party, but Max had managed to prove himself when he got them to the pumpkin field to distract the Demodogs.
Daisy, even though she would sometimes start rapidly explaining some science that even Michelle had trouble understanding, was someone that she would die for - *had* almost died for. Highschool had only brought them closer together. They shared the same timetable, sat together at lunch and went to Hellfire together. Sometimes, it felt like Daisy was the only actual friend she had left, since Lucinda was too busy with practice, Max was pulling away and -
James and Willow were on the other side of the country, in sunny California, with a bunch of friends and probably super well liked by everyone they met. At least, James was.
He would send her letters every week, retelling the seven days since their last correspondence. The classes he took, the parties he went to, the things he saw. He had made friends - Jake, Chad, Stacey and Angela - and they hung out everyday after school. He was currently working on a project for one of his classes, about a hero he looked up too. He had chosen Hopper, who had died the previous year while closing the gate at Starcourt. His death had really messed up James, and Michelle knew that honouring his father meant a lot to her boyfriend.
Every once in a while he would mention Willow in a letter. She'd started going to their school's art club and had a few friends. She had gotten a part-time job at an art gallery. Her days were always full - so full that she didn't have any time to write to or call Michelle.
Every news she got, she got them from James, never from Willow. And don't get her wrong, it was a good thing that Willow was enjoying herself in California, but with everyday that passed without any word from her *best friend*, a feeling deep inside of Michelle's gut grew.
Because if someone were to ask Michelle to be honest, then she would say that Willow was her best friend. They had known each other since kindergarten and for the longest time, it'd been just the two of them. Michelle and Willow. Willow and Michelle. She'd stuck by Willow's side every day since she had agreed to be her friend, and they had seen each other through their worst.
And if someone were to ask Michelle to be brave, then she would say that Willow was her favorite person in the whole world. She would say that she loved her more than all of her other friends, more than her family, more than life itself.
There wasn't a world Michelle could imagine in which she didn't love Willow - no matter how *sick* and *twisted* and *wrong* her love might be.
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