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Will closed the door to his bedroom, staring at the ceiling. Studying the lines and the imperfections, looking closely for a pattern to arise in the ocean of tan paint. But he came up empty. It was quite boring (a shocking fact) and soon Will rolled over, looking at his bedside table before closing his eyes.
“Me and El are thinking about going out for dinner tonight.”
Will replayed what he had been told by Mike before deciding to isolate himself from the outside world. The cold, empty space outside his bedroom door.
“You guys went out last night too,” Will looked up from his book. “And the night before that, and five times last week. You’re going to run out of money.”
Mike pursed his lips, looking away from Will.
“Why do you want to go out all the time anyway?”
“Go out? Go out on what? Dates?”
Will could immediately tell he had been a little bit too sassy in his previous remarks.
He gripped the bedsheets, trying to ground himself. Everything was okay between him and Mike. Everything was fine.
“Yes, dates? What else would I be referring to?” He rolled his eyes, now setting his book down.
Mike tried to keep a straight face. He was doing a pretty good job at it, but Will could tell how he really felt. He could see between the cracks, that he was hurting him.
“Because she’s my girlfriend Will.” Mike looked him in the eyes, sending a chill down Will’s spine. “And that’s what couples are supposed to do. They are supposed to go on dates and kiss and love each other.”
“You don’t love her,” he muttered the words before he could stop himself. The inside of his body was collapsing, burning. All he could do is desperately hope that Mike did not hear what he had just said.
Will tried to relax himself, to get comfortable—to fall asleep. But the previous conversation just kept playing on repeat in his head. The damage had been done. There was no use in trying to repair it. After all, Will stood with everything he said. It just hurt that he had to say them.
“What?” Mike said, eyes widened. “What the fuck are you even talking about?”
Will remained silent, looking down at the table, not having the strength to move his eyes upwards. The slanted angle of his head caused his tears to automatically fall from his eyes.
“Don’t be fucking selfish. She loves me and I feel the same way. Not everything is about you, Will.”
“Yeah, you’re right. It never is. It’s all about what you want.” Will went on, “I don’t even matter anymore. It’s just like the Rink-O-Mania again. It’s all about your fun and enjoyment.”
He stood up, looking at Mike.
“I think you’re wrong. You said ‘we’re friends.’ You’re friends with me. And I do not ‘feel the same way.’” Will took a breath, mind moving at one hundred miles a minute. “You need to grow up, Mike, okay? This isn’t you. I can feel it. You can try to convince yourself all you want but this isn’t you. I love you Mike, but you’re hurting me. If we’re still friends you should at least treat me like one.”
There was no way Will was going to be able to sleep after that. Or later that evening, or ever. He just felt an overwhelming sinking feeling in his chest, like he was about to throw up. He wanted to fall asleep and never wake up again. Everything that he had ever wanted had gone to shit. His relationship with his best friend, and crush for that matter, had been destroyed because Will had been impulsive. Because he had chosen to fight the battle at an inappropriate time. It was all his fault.
He couldn’t just go and apologize. Will had been told as a child multiple times by his mother to not apologize for his feelings, but Will felt he needed to say ‘I’m sorry’ to Mike. I’m sorry for being so aggressive earlier , I’m sorry, that was the wrong time to bring all of that up . Worst of all— I’m sorry that things turned out this way.
The minutes slipped away from Will, he spent his time being half asleep, crying, or both. He felt so burnt out. Like Mike had so easily crumpled his heart right in front of him like it was nothing more than a piece of paper. Like he was slowly wasting away. The overly optimistic part of himself wanted him to be proud for expressing his feelings, but Will knew that was the wrong emotion to feel. The overly pessimistic part of himself had convinced him that his relationship with Mike Wheeler was over, there was no use in it anymore.
We were friends for eight years, Will tried to comfort himself. It can’t just end like that. It can’t just stop.
But in his heart he knew that things had been shifted between them. Only time will tell if it was permanent or not. He wanted to vomit out his soul. He wanted to rip himself to shreds.
A knock on his door. “Will?”
It was Mike.
“What do you want,” he said more tiredly than angry. He considered himself lucky for facing the opposite wall from the door.
The door knob slowly turned, the metal pieces of the door slowly sliding out from each other to let there be no barriers between Mike and Will.
“Will I’m—”
He rolled onto his stomach, fully sobbing in front of Mike. He couldn’t think of a scenario where he could be more embarrassed. “I’m sorry Mike. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He screamed into the sheets. “I fucked everything up. I’m so sorry. This is my fault. I shouldn’t have opened my mouth. And now everything is going to be different between us and we’ll never be able to get past it. I’m so sorry for what I said. I was so mean, Mike.”
“I…” he was still standing in the door frame, looking over at his broken friend. “Will, I’m sorry.”
Will didn’t move.
“You shouldn’t be sorry for anything. I’ve treated you like shit. I’ve lied to you and to myself and all my friends. But the worst part is that I hurt you.”
A beat. Will couldn’t hear anything anymore.
“I love you Will. I love you I love you. And I’ve tried to hide it for so long. I keep telling myself that it isn’t love but it is. And not in a platonic way or whatever. And trying to hide it has just damaged you and made you hate me. I just… I wanted you to know before you decide to not talk with me anymore.”
Will looked over to see Mike silently crying as well. “Mike…”
He got up, hearing the soft folding of the blankets and sheets underneath him. It was hard to see through his teary eyes, but he made it over to Mike, who at this point couldn’t find it in himself to speak at all. All Will could do was go up to him, try to fix it. But what he wanted to say was beyond words. It was a purplish emotion, that’s all Will could think of to describe it—not blue, but not nearly saturated enough to be red or orange. It’s wasn’t not blue. But it wasn’t exactly blue either.
Will wrapped his arms around Mike, trying to communicate what he was feeling. He wanted to say that it was okay, that he understands and forgives him. That he was still hurt but he knew why Mike was acting so strange. That he just wanted to hold and be held until they both forgot this ever happened.
Mike, stunned for a moment, walked back a bit. But, almost immediately he bounced back, tightly wrapping his arms around Will. Not wanting to ever let go. I love you , was all he could think. He hugged back with so much force Will had to step back a bit, but Mike noticed he never broke off. All that existed was Will and Mike.
Will, feeling strong enough to lift his head, whispered. “I love you too.”
Mike squeezed him.
“It’s alright. Everything is okay.”