— Mike Wheeler

Mike understood Will's fear because it was his own, too. He felt it every time someone walked too close, every time someone else's laughter sounded like mockery, even if it wasn't. They were sitting in the car, parked far from everything, with the lights off and the windows closed, as if the world outside could see them through the metal. Hawkins wasn't dangerous because of the streets, but because of the ideas. Because of what people believed was right. Because of what they called sin, without knowing how to name it any other way.

Mike stared at Will for a long time. There was no reproach in his expression, only weariness. Weariness of hiding his hands, of pretending to tell different stories, of having to love in silence to survive. He knew Will was thinking about school, about his parents, about the rumors that started out of nowhere and ruined lives. Mike was thinking about that too, but he was thinking more about the future, about how much it could hurt to continue like this. He spoke slowly, carefully, as if every word could break something.
"I don't want us to have to hide forever," she said . "I don't want this to be just behind closed doors or when no one can see us."