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“But there is a story that he can never tell. The real story.”
Mike jolts awake, panting, in the dark stillness of his parents’ basement. He rolls over, the scratchy surface of the old couch rubbing uncomfortably against the exposed skin of his legs where his pants rode up during his restless sleep. Images from the dream that startled him out of his slumber flash before his eyes. Bare skin on bare skin, soft fingers tracing up his side, a hand gently carding through his hair, full lips pressed against his neck, green eyes boring into his, two pendants on black cord dangling in his face. He squeezes his eyes shut as tightly as he can, trying to push them away, but he can’t escape it. He tosses and turns for a while before he finally gives up. He reaches over to grab his watch, discarded on the coffee table the night before. 4:42 AM. Shit.
~~~
It's two days after graduation and Mike can't get Will out of his head. And he's a complete idiot about it.
AKA: The "real story" Mike couldn't tell in the epilogue.

