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Will and Mike are always on the same page.
Best Star Wars movie? Empire.
Favorite horror writer? Lovecraft over King, always.
What kind of pizza should the party order? Hawaiian.
(The rest of the party always vetoes that decision though).
Mike and Will just get each other. They always have.
It starts when 5-year-old Mike takes a seat on the swing next to Will, right after asking him to be his friend. Will tells him that swings are his favorite, and then blushes. What if swings are for preschoolers and not grown-up kindergartners? But Mike says they’re his favorite too, and he tells Will how he can’t do the monkey bars, and Will says he can’t either, and then they’re talking about how much they hate tetherball and dodgeball and without speaking they’ve agreed to meet on the swings every recess from then on.
When Will’s dad leaves, he’s reminded again that Mike always understands just what to do. Will bikes over to Mike’s house the morning after his dad left, even though he’s not allowed to go that far without Mom or Jonathan or Dad—no, not Dad, not anymore.
(Not that Lonnie would ever “waste his time” following Will while he bikes somewhere).
Will knocks on the door and doesn’t realize he’s crying until Mike pulls him into a hug and he feels a sob escape his chest as he chokes out, “My dad left. For good this time.” When Mike pulls back from the hug a minute later, Will thinks he made a mistake. He should’ve stayed at Castle Byers; he doesn’t want to talk about his dad right now. But Mike doesn’t ask him about his dad; he asks if Will wants to watch cartoons and eat Reese’s Pieces.
When Mike tells Will they’d go crazy together, Will knows he should’ve told Mike about what’s happening to him earlier. But he thought losing your mind wasn’t like admitting you’re afraid of the dark or that you can never remember how to spell maintenance. Those things were weird, but they were the kind of weird people could understand. But Will should’ve known that even if Mike couldn’t really understand, he was still there, always.
When Mike says asking Will to be his friend was the best thing he’s ever done, Will screams in his head, yes, becoming your friend was the bestbestbestbestbest thing I’ve ever done too. Will swears that if he survives, if he becomes himself again, he’ll tell Mike he feels the same way.
(He doesn’t.)
When Mike sees Will kissing a boy outside the gym one day during junior year, Will feels like the floor has fallen away from him. He might as well be pulled into the Upside Down at that moment because there’s no escaping the fact that this will ruin his life forever. The boy pushes Will away and starts yelling. Will thinks he even calls him a few slurs. Will is so embarrassed that the boy he thought was going to be his boyfriend is saying those things, but he’s not really listening because all he can think about is Mike and how he is about to lose his best friend. But after the boy storms off, Mike just says, “Sorry but that guy seems like a dick. You deserve a better boyfriend than that.”
When Will walks into Mike’s room holding his art school acceptance—Cooper Union in New York City—he worries about Mike being far away. He’s not ready to lose his best friend. Mike hadn’t told Will where he wanted to go to school. When Will shows him the letter, Mike smiles and congratulates him. Then, he pulls out an envelope from a mess of papers on his desk and tosses it at Will who drops it spectacularly. Will picks it up off the floor. It’s a Columbia acceptance. Mike says, “Looks like we’re going to New York together.”
(Will doesn’t see the other acceptances on Mike’s desk: Northwestern, close to the School of the Art Institute of Chicago; UCLA, near CalArts; Brown, right next to Rhode Island School of Design.)
The realization that Mike’s friendship is unconditional hits Will at the strangest time: while leaving dirty dishes in the sink. The two of them had promised to wash their dishes the same day they use them—it’s kind of a requirement when you only own two plates and one pot, but Will is running late for his midterm and he throws his dishes in the sink and says to himself, Mike will understand. He stops abruptly at the doorway, thinking about how Mike always understands. Not just about dumb stuff like dishes, but stuff like still wanting his father’s approval or the panic that lodges itself in his throat during a power outage. All the things that make him feel crazy, all the things he thinks no one will understand, Mike always gets it. Will can still hear him saying, “We’ll go crazy together,” so clearly in his head. Will promises that he’ll thank Mike for being the best best friend he could ask for when he gets home.
(But he meets a cute boy and they go out for drinks and Will doesn’t make it home until the next day when Mike has already done his dishes for him.)
When the boy breaks his heart a couple weeks later, Will heads straight for the research lab where Mike interns. Will knows Mike won’t be mad when Will asks him to leave work early and get ice cream with him. Mike doesn’t say they weren’t together long enough for Will to be this upset. He does make fun of the way the boy said “orange.” He doesn’t bug Will for being quieter for the next week or so.
(The fear of losing Mike doesn’t return until spring turns to summer, turns to fall, turns to winter.)
Will and Mike are walking through Central Park on the first Saturday of the year, spotty patches of snow covering the grass. They wander aimlessly drinking hot chocolate (Will) and a triple shot americano (Mike). They toss their empty cups into a trashcan before realizing the bottom has split open somehow and the trash is spilling out. Mike makes a dumb pun (“I guess it’s a trash can’t!”) and without realizing what he’s doing Will pulls Mike down to kiss him. Mike just looks so cute, smiling at his own stupid joke, with his hair stuffed under a beanie and the same kind of dorky sweater he’s been wearing since they were kids. Will’s milliseconds away from reaching Mike’s lips when he asks himself what are you doing?!?! That’s your best friend! That’s Mike! It’s too late now though, so Will barely presses his lips against Mike’s and then pulls back, embarrassed.
(He’s not sure when he fell in love with his best friend, but he thinks maybe a part of him has always loved Mike.)
Will knows this is what will finally ruin their friendship. Mike will finally say “I can put up with interdimensional demonic possession and you being gay and you always biting your nails, but I can’t be your best friend if you’re in love with me.”
(Of course, Will doesn’t need to worry though.)
Mike presses his hand to Will’s cheek and smiles at him before leaning down to give him a real kiss. When Mike pulls back he says, “It’s about time we did that.”
Will has to agree, they’re on the same page there.