Chapter Text
“How pretty he is, my zombie boy…”
“Shut up,” Will groans exasperatedly, flicking a pea at the cackling Max. “It’s not that funny.”
“On the contrary, it’s hilarious. And very romantic, of course.”
She throws him an over-exaggerated wink and he ponders a way to punch her in the face and make it look like an accident.
“It’s just a sappy note, it’s not a big deal.”
“It’s not just any sappy note. That’s the most needy, awful love confession I’ve ever read. Your secret admirer is as thick as two short planks.”
“Secret admirer?”
Will internally cringes as he turns to see Mike standing over his shoulder.
Him and Max are seated at the party’s usual corner table in the cafeteria, but Lucas was practicing for a game today and Dustin and El were both out of town with Nancy for the day, her “thank you” gift to them for helping her with a recent project. He had forgotten entirely about Mike, who currently has an extremely strange look on his face as he takes his seat opposite Will.
Max, on the other hand, is grinning wickedly from across the table.
“You didn’t hear? William here has a fan.”
“What? What do you mean, fan?”
“I mean-“ She digs about in her pocket before producing a crumpled, pastel pink piece of paper. “-that someone has a thing for our dear friend here.”
“Hey, I thought I threw that away!”
Will makes a grab for the note but Max is too quick, pulling it just out of reach.
“You did. I got it from the trash, it was too precious to go to waste like that.”
Smirking at the scowling Will, she lightly passes the paper to Mike who carefully unfurls it, nose wrinkling at the hearts doodled in the margins and the light scent of floral perfume that clung to the paper. He mouths the words to himself as he reads, a habit of his that Will had taken note of over the years.
You play with my heart like it is a toy,
How pretty he is, my zombie boy!
So perfect in every and all ways,
With you, my heart always stays
Handsome, smart and oh so kind
How I wish that you were mine!
xox
your secret admirer
“What the fuck.”
Mike looks between Max and Will, mouth agape.
“Tell me this is a joke.”
“I wish it was,” Will mumbles, shaking his head.
“Where did you find it?”
“In lover boy’s locker,” Max snickers, dodging the pea flung her way.
Mike laughs as he shoves the paper back towards Max, though it seems disbelieving, mirthless. “No way.”
“It’s awful,” Will groans, putting his head in his hands. “I mean, who rhymes mine with kind?”
“And the playing with my heart part. Like, that makes it sound like you’re a serious player. Real fuckboy, you are,” Max adds dutifully.
“They could’ve put it in the wrong locker,” Mike suggests, his facial expression slightly off in a way that Will can’t exactly put his finger on.
Max raises an eyebrow, looking at Mike as though she was unsure if he was joking or not.
“Are you kidding me? It says zombie boy. Who else in this school do people call zombie boy? And anyway, it wouldn’t be the first time. William here is popular with the ladies, aren’t you?”
“Shut up,” Will shoots at her. “And don’t call me William.”
“Just stating the facts, William. Mike really needs to get a new pair of eyes apparently, because you’re one of the most attractive guys around here. Even though there isn’t much competition.”
Mike puts his hands up in mock surrender, looking irritable all of a sudden. “Okay, jeez. It was just a thought. And it’s not like he’s Hawkins’ most eligible bachelor or something like that.”
“I dunno, I reckon he could be. You feeling like an eligible bachelor, Will?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Sounds like the kind of thing an eligible bachelor would say. So humble.”
Will shakes his head, though he can’t suppress a snort. Mike however simply rolls his eyes, turning his head to his tray of food and picking at it moodily. Max frowns, squinting at him.
“What’s up with you, Wheeler?”
“What do you mean? Nothing’s up.”
“You’re acting like more of a dick than usual. Are you jealous or something?”
At her statement, Mike and Will both immediately start to splutter simultaneously for what Will is sure are entirely different reasons.
“Max, what the hell?” Will says, partially wanting to try and kick her under the table.
“Yeah, what the hell? Why would I be jealous of him getting stupid sappy love letters?”
She shrugs, clearly amused. “I don’t know. When was the last time you had a secret admirer, Wheeler?”
“Fuck off.”
They fall into a lapse of silence, Mike staring resolutely at his lunch. Max catches Will’s eye, furrowing her brow as if to say ‘that was weird’. Will only shrugs in response, casting a glance at the scowling boy beside him.
Luckily, the bell saves them from any more awkward silence. As they move to scrape uneaten food into the leftover’s bin, flaming red hair tickles Will’s ear as Max leans over his shoulder to whisper in a hushed tone.
“My house, after school. We’ll talk then.”
Though he feels his stomach drop slightly at her words, he gives a small nod of confirmation. She smiles briefly before turning and striding out of the cafeteria into the halls.
Will has a strangest feeling of being watched as he follows behind her.
-
The rest of the day is relatively normal. Him and Mike had very few classes together that day and he and Max didn’t do much except chat idly when there was no work to be done.
At the end of the day, Max was picked up by her mom in her car. Will lagged behind to talk with his art teacher about their next assignment before hopping on his bike, only half-noting that Mike’s bike had also already disappeared.
Her house wasn’t too far and it only took a matter of minutes for him to arrive. She was waiting for him by the front door and barely gave him time to prop up his bike against the wall before grabbing his wrist, dragging him into the house.
Will and Max weren’t two people who you expected to be friends. Will was shyer and more reclusive while Max was hot headed and even somewhat abrasive, and many wondered how they had managed to bridge that wide gap of their differences to form such a bond.
It was very simple, really. Will had been feeling dejected after his friends were yet again too busy to hang out or continue their campaign and his mother encouraged him to go on a walk, swearing fresh air would help him feel better.
When he was walking round the park, he spotted the flaming red hair of Max Mayfield as she was practicing skateboarding. Fascinated, he remembers working up the courage to ask if she could teach him, to which she happily agreed. While they both practiced, Will told her about how he had been feeling left out lately. She sympathised with him, having had similar experiences, so she invited him to hang out with her at the arcade.
That was how it started. Arcade visits, skateboarding lessons, movie nights and so forth. Will had even tried to teach her how to paint one time, to disastrous results.
As it turns out, they balanced each other nicely. Will was less impulsive and more logical, while Max would stand up for him or defend him when needed. When she talked, he listened, and when he talked, she listened.
And, just like that, Will and Max became best friends (Well, Mike was Will’s best best friend, but Max came in a close second). So Will felt completely at home as Max sprawled unceremoniously over her bed, sitting criss-cross beside her. In the corner of his eye, he sees the infamous note resting on the top of her dresser.
“That was an interesting day.”
“I’m not sure if interesting is the right word for it.”
“What is the right word for it, then?”
“Embarrassing.”
She rolls her eyes, punching him lightly on the arm as she straightens, propping herself up against a pillow.
“I was kidding, with all that stuff. I mean yeah, it’s funny, but it’s not a big deal. Would’ve thought it would be less obvious though.”
“Huh? Obvious?”
“The Secret Admirer’s identity.”
“You know who it is?”
“Yep. Gina Emmerson. It smells like her perfume and there is nobody else in this school who dots their i’s with hearts like that.”
Will’s mind flashes to the girl who he’s partnered with in biology. He groans, rubbing his eyes.
“This is gonna make that project a whole lot more awkward.”
“You have it better than me. I’m with that asshole Richie.” She says ruefully, pulls a face.
“At least he doesn’t have a thing for you. I don’t know how I’m gonna look her in the eyes.”
“You aren’t gonna confront her?”
“Are you kidding me? No fucking way. That would be even worse.”
“True, that.”
She scratches her nose thoughtfully before grinning at him. “She never had any sort of chance, though. There are much worse reasons to be rejected.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
It had never been explicitly said, but of course she knew. They had both cooed over various attractive male actors at times while Max had melted over pretty woman in fashion magazines at others, Will trying to understand but not really ever seeing what she was so obsessed with. So she knew girls weren’t for him, just as he knew that she didn’t limit herself to just one of them. It had never been expressed in words, no awkward talks or coming-outs, they just both knew and were fine with leaving it like that.
“I’m more interested in whatever the fuck was going on with King Wheeler. What the hell was he playing at?” She scoffs. Will shakes his head, as much in the dark as she is.
“No clue. But it didn’t seem like something to be worried about.”
She lets out a ‘hmph’, screwing up her face. It’s something she does when she’s thinking.
“I do think he was jealous.”
Now it’s Will’s turn to scoff.
“Jealous? Of me? Not likely.”
“I never said of you, genius.”
He blinks in confusion, his expression slowly growing more incredulous as he processes her words.
“You can’t be serious.”
She raises an eyebrow. “Why not?”
“You’re suggesting that Mike Wheeler is jealous that someone is sending me love letters because he doesn’t like the idea of me being hit on by someone who is not him.”
To his surprise, she nods casually. “Yeah, that’s about it.”
“Did you hit your head?”
She huffs. “Come on, Will. You can’t run away from it forever. What other reason could there be?”
“There are many other reasons!”
“Such as?”
Will opens and closes his mouth, trying to search for something to say. Max looks at him with raised eyebrows, a ‘gotcha’ expression on her face.
This was also something that had never been directly acknowledged. Will knew that Max was observant and there was no way she hadn’t caught his lingering stares or nervous swallows that usually accompanied his and Mike’s interactions.
She’d never said anything about it, except for the times when she’d suddenly have “important business” to attend to when the three of them were together, leaving the two alone, or the times when they all went swimming together in the lake near the outskirts of the woods and she would make sly comments about how good Mike looked in his swimsuit, making Will flush.
Unfortunately, it seemed confrontation had to happen at some point. If only it wasn’t today.
“Will, we need to at least test the theory before we dismiss it. Trust me here.”
He groans, pinching his brows. “Trusting you usually ends badly.”
“Not this time, I promise. I have a plan.”
He raises an eyebrow. “A plan?”
Max grins deviously. “A plan.”
-
The plan was simple.
Mike and Will have adjacent lockers. These lockers are opposite the science room, which has a door with a small glass window.
Max would write a simple note on a post-it and stick it to Will’s locker. They would arrive at school early, before Mike, and Will would hide his bike around the side of the school so that it looked like he hadn’t arrived yet. They would both then sneak into the science room and wait, watching through the window to see Mike’s reaction.
Now it’s all in place. A cheesy note that simply read:
I’ve always wondered what it would be like to kiss a zombie boy. Hopefully one day I’ll find out
xox your secret admirer
had been securely stuck to the front of Will’s locker and the two teens were now both staring through the window from the science room, simply waiting.
“This is stupid,” Will mutters for the hundredth time that morning. It all feels so ridiculous, like they’re in elementary school trying to figure out who had left a heart candy on his desk.
“Sshh, I see him coming!”
Rolling his eyes, he fixes his gaze on the mop of black hair as Mike weaves through the crowd.
At first, it seems he doesn’t notice it, dumping his bag into the locker save for a few necessary textbooks and making to close it and leave for homeroom. But Will can see how he seems to freeze as his head turns towards the adjacent locker, how he instantly tenses. Beside him, he hears Max release a breath of anticipation.
Eventually, he clicks his own locker shut and reaches out, grabbing the note. His back is turned so Will can’t see his face, but he imagines how he would be mouthing the words to himself as he reads it.
A minute passes. Mike stands still, looking at the note.
It was two sentences, he can’t still be reading. No, he’s just staring.
It’s very abrupt, how suddenly he seems to break out of his stupor. Looking about almost furtively as though to check if he was being watched, he crumples the note in his hand and tosses it a little too aggressively at the nearest trash can, turning about and allowing Will to catch a glimpse of his expression.
He looks bitter, resentful. Will swallows subconsciously.
And then he’s gone, striding off down the hallway, and the science room is completely silent.
After what could be hours, he hears Max whisper:
“Theory proven.”