Chapter Text
"So you came back..."
I looked up at Will. He nodded. Honestly, I thought he'd be more concerned. But his reaction wasn't what I'd imagined.
"Is that all you wanted?"
"What did you expect? That I'd start begging for help?"
"Well, at least you were surprised."
Will looked out the window. It was getting dark outside. It must have been around nine or ten, which is already dark, even though it was still summer.
"Right now, my biggest concern is whether the asylum has an extra room." He clearly enjoyed watching the change in my expression. "Although we might need another one if they can't determine which of us is crazy."
I had a wild urge to scream and hit the "dreamer" sitting in front of me, who didn't understand where games ended and harsh reality began. But instead, I continued, or at least tried to sound as calm as possible.
"You know this isn't a joke, right?"
That question hit the nail on the head.
"I know..."
Will rubbed his arm, his gaze darting around the room he'd known since birth, trying not to look me in the eye.
"I know."
There was no point in arguing with him. I just pinched the bridge of my nose.
"And what are you planning to do with your new 'friend'?" The question was caustic. "I doubt you'll be able to negotiate for him to leave you alone."
Byers looked at me.
"I haven't thought about that yet..."
"Can you stay here with me a little longer?"
"What...?"
Maybe I misheard.
Will's cheeks flushed.
"Couldn't you stay...?"
An empty apartment flashed through my mind. Maybe Ted would be home early, and I doubt he'd even notice I was gone. He'd order KFC and watch TV. To be honest, I wasn't particularly keen on being there. It was better to sit with Will for an extra three or four hours than try to sleep or focus on writing a book while listening to TV shows blaring from the TV box.
I nodded.
"Thank you."
After a while, Will sat on the bed, which creaked with every movement, while I rummaged through his closet for clean clothes. I couldn't understand why I was doing this and not him, since this was his home. Surprisingly, there were very few clothes. I'd thought there would be far more, given the size of the closet. Perhaps half of them were missing because they were scattered all over the apartment, or maybe because whoever wore them never left the house. The closet smelled of cheap laundry detergent, the kind you could buy at the local store across the street, and there was also the scent of varnish and antique wood.
Finally, I found what I was looking for. I tossed it to Will and left the room so as not to embarrass him while he changed. My head was racing with plans for what to do next, but they were all too naive and stupid. My second thought was: How did Will end up with two personalities? Was he schizophrenic? I hope not...
Will pulled me out of my thoughts. He chuckled loudly. I turned toward the doorway.
"What again?"
"Nothing. I just thought too much was happening in one day."
"Of course," I frowned. "And let me remember, because of whom?"
Why was I so angry at him? We're friends, best friends. Everyone thinks so.
Right...?
In truth... It wasn't quite like that... Or is it just me?
Three or four years ago
A gray sky blanketed Hawkins. If I waited a few minutes, it might rain, maybe even pour. I was walking through the park, completely unwilling to go home. So I wandered around Hawkins on the last day of summer. The textbooks I'd packed for the first school year lay on my desk at home. Maybe I should have gone out with my peers at Ives's party; she'd invited me, too. But today... I didn't feel like doing anything or going anywhere with a purpose.
My gaze caught the children on the playground. The mothers were animatedly gossiping about something, perhaps even about the attractive neighbor and his wife, who, in their opinion, was "unworthy of such a handsome man," completely forgetting about their own husbands. Noticing the clouds, they shouted to their children to wrap things up. The playground instantly emptied. Maybe if Ted and Mom hadn't fought so often and it hadn't led to divorce, I'd be here walking with Holly, telling her interesting facts about dinosaurs and such.
I picked up a pebble and watched it fly across the pavement until it hit someone's foot, approaching at breakneck speed.
Then, at that very moment, something my own size slammed into me. We fell to the ground. A boy my age was pressed against my chest. I could feel his breath hitched from running and his sobs twitching.
"Um..." I began hesitantly; I wasn't used to talking to someone who cried and attacked strangers. "What happened...?"
A sob.
"Did someone hurt you?"
Silence.
When "someone" finally pulled himself together and lifted his face, I recognized him. It was my classmate. I think his name was Will. He liked to draw. And I liked him...
I knew it wasn't normal. But love and sympathy begin before you even realize you care about someone.
Something in my chest tightened; I couldn't bear to watch Will get hurt.
"Will...?"
No answer.
"Hey, hey...! Will!" I cried out. "You're Will... Right?" Less confidently, "I haven't made a mistake...?"
He nodded. That already made the process easier. He pulled away a little. And I could finally stretch my numb arms.
I could never stay angry with him.
Now
I heard Will slide down and sit on the floor, leaning against the wood. Maybe it wasn't, but there was no way to know—he was on the other side of the door.
"I don't even know."
It took me a moment to remember where we'd left off.
"You don't have to pretend," I said, slightly irritated. "I know—you know who's to blame for this."
"Maybe…" His voice sounded cheerful, as if nothing had happened. "Or maybe not…"
"Stop playing around, this is serious stuff." I said sternly, but still smiled. "You understand perfectly well that you're the most precious person in the world to me. And I can't lose you."
I said this before I thought. I thanked God that Will couldn't see my face. It was as red as a tomato.
"Really...?" Will was genuinely surprised; he was probably checking it out right now, whether it was a lie or not. But I wasn't joking, and I wasn't lying to him.
The door opened. And Will sat down next to me. He pulled his knees up to his chin.
"You're not lying?"
My face changed color. "I hope he didn't notice," I thought panicked; I didn't want to question our "friendship." Of course he noticed. He smiled.
"Of course not!"
He was about to say something else, but a knock on the front door interrupted him.
We exchanged glances. Who could it be?
"Maybe Mom and Bob, or Jonathan, are back?" Byers suggested. "Although no, I doubt it. They went somewhere."
"And you weren't taken?"
"They offered, but I refused."
"I see."
I'd completely forgotten that Will wasn't the only one living in this apartment.
Walking up to the door, I peered through the peephole.
Two people stood on the threshold. I barely recognized them. They were Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley. They were older than Will and me. What were they doing here? Steve knocked on the wood again, urging me to open the door.
"That's Harrington and Buckley..."
Will nodded, indicating that I should do so.
"What are you doing near my house?" Will asked.
"Do you seriously think I can leave my 'child' alone in this mess?"
Byers' face changed.
"I'm not a CHILD!" he cried. "I'm already fifteen!"
"Okay, okay, Kid," Steve replied, but he still continued to smile.
I intervened.
"What did you bring?"
Robin raised her hand. It held a yellow plastic bag. Something was inside.
"You must be hungry."