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The bitter November air stings his cheeks as his bike makes the turn into Hawkins Middle, and Will still has no idea that this was the Friday before the day his life changed forever. Maybe he’s supposed to know by the raised hairs on the back of his neck or the cold chill that runs down his spine as the suspicion of something watching washes over him, but as he spots the rest of the Party gathered at the bike racks, the feeling evaporates, leaving Will to think nothing of it as he enters the school gates.
A chorus of “Byers!” erupts from the group as Will makes his way over and he’s quickly engulfed by friendly pats on the back as if the last time he saw his friends wasn’t literally yesterday. Their overlapping chatter makes Will feel at ease, despite the usual dread of a school morning with the weekend just out of reach. The past school week has been pretty brutal, in Will’s opinion; now that they weren’t in 6th grade anymore, the ratio of schoolwork to relaxation had fallen entirely out of balance, even if high school was still, like, two years away. It makes him even more excited for the oncoming weekend, where Mike has been hinting about leaving Sunday free for future Party-related activities.
As he walks down the beige hallway towards the lockers, the imaginary spotlight that follows him around the school leads to judgemental eyes sticking to his slumped frame and Jonathan’s old backpack as though there’s toilet paper permanently stuck to the bottom of his shoe. Whispered rumors about his crazy mom, his creepy brother or his deadbeat dad hover around him like one of those sentient cartoon rain clouds. Despite living in Hawkins for his entire life, it never really seems to be a place that Will belongs (and everyone else can tell). It’s as though some huge invisible wall has been erected around the town, leaving Will, his family, and friends firmly on the outside of it. Maybe it was the way that his clothes never really fit right or the music he and Jonathan listen to, or maybe they found out that he still sleeps with stuffed animals every night (and still sneaks under his mom’s covers when he has nightmares). Mike always says that they don’t understand how cool being a nerd could be, but Will still stands outside the invisible Hawkins wall, looking for cracks and holes and wondering if anyone would notice if he ever snuck in.
He knows that it could never happen, that he will always have the word ‘different' branded on his forehead, hidden under his dorky bangs. That’s why he’s grateful for his friends, who weren’t the only people in Hawkins who were different, making it so that the spotlight dimmed, trying to accommodate them all, and making Will feel like he was part of a protective shield. Each of them stopped the others from being taken down by the ‘oppressive Hawkins social order’, as Jonathan calls it.
As they near the lockers, the buzz emanating from his friends grows contagious, forcing Will to pull his head from his thoughts and start paying attention to what his friends are saying: Mike has something exciting to announce at lunch, was all that Will can gather, before having to rush off to his first lesson.
-
English with Mrs. Grabowski was the only lesson that enforces a strong seating plan, meaning that Will can’t sit with the Party and follow Jonathan’s advice of staying away from people who looked mean and dumb. The meaner and dumber they look, the more you need to avoid them at all costs. Luckily for Will, he was put next to Jennifer Hayes, who’s very nice albeit very talkative. He appreciates it when she always notices and compliments him whenever he gets a new haircut (even if it always looks the same) or when she lets him borrow her scissors, but he never knows quite how to respond. It’s likely to do with the fact that she's a girl.
“Good morning, Will!” She says cheerily, already sat down at their table in the far left corner of the classroom. Will manages to mumble a quiet, but polite good morning back, just as the lesson starts. Despite their somewhat frequent conversations, Will never really knows what to say. Girls didn't know who Gandalf is, or how to get a high score on Robotron 2084 and Will didn't even want to consider being friends with someone who doesn’t know the difference between Orcs and Ewoks. The obsession with girls has just begun to infiltrate the minds of the boys in his grade, and Will once again feels like he is purposefully kept out of the loop. Who cares whether Jessica has started wearing training bras, or that Mei wore strawberry lip gloss when she kissed Jacob in the math classroom after school last week? He feels that he was supposed to feel some kind of excitement when he heard the newest 7th-grade dating gossip, but all Will felt was a cold detachment as everyone moved on without him. The Party would always stay strong and stay together, Will hopes.
He spends the rest of the lesson staring mournfully at the blackboard, wondering about how he is going to get through the lesson in one piece without Mike’s sarcastic comments and Dustin and Lucas’ constant bickering, tuning out whatever book Mrs. Grabowski is dithering on about.
For the most part, Will actually enjoys school. Sure he has to worry about the bullies, who always stick their noses where they didn’t belong, constantly teasing Will and his friends over stuff that he didn’t fully understand yet, and yes, the middle school curriculum wasn’t always great, but Will found that learning things is fun. The worksheets are always pretty straightforward and it means that when he gets home he could always tell his mom and Jonathan a new fun fact about whatever Mr. Clarke had told them that day, plus the routine meant that Will always knew what to expect. At least he knows ahead of time if his day was going to be shitty so he could mentally prepare. His friends are the best part, however, and whilst he doesn’t have as many friends as Stacey or Chris, he at least has some, which is always better than nothing. Will doesn’t know what he'd do without the party, which is why lessons like English are so unbearable.
-
Lunch finally arrives and Mike’s mystery announcement is all Will can think about. The first half of the day was unremarkable for the most part (apart from when Mr. Clarke had let them use the chromatography paper- that had been cool), leaving lunch the only part of his day that he had to actively look forward to. After Dustin gets his lunch from Phyllis the lunch lady, they all finally sit down in their corner of the cafeteria.
“So Mike,” Lucas starts, “what’s the deal with your ‘big announcement’?” The eager anticipation in the air is palpable.
“Well, Sir Lucas, I’m glad you asked,” Mike says, pausing for dramatic effect, “I am very excited to announce that my best campaign yet is ready, and I expect you all at my house on Sunday at 10 am! Sharp.”
Dustin gasps, “Holy shit, dude, do you mean the campaign? The big one? I thought that it wouldn't be ready until next week!”
“Yeah, well I managed to bribe Nancy to help me finish some of my homework early. I caught her on the phone with her douchebag boyfriend when she was supposed to be studying and was able to work overtime to complete the campaign once I didn’t have to worry about Mr. Kowalski’s assignment anymore.” Mike has a smug grin on his face. Although Mike is always proud of his campaigns due to all of the hard work he puts in, Will knows that his smugness comes more from being able to annoy Nancy. The topic of Steve Harrington has managed to butt itself into every third conversation the Party has with Mike, due to the fact that Steve’s mere presence meant that Nancy no longer hangs out with Mike and that she has started to become way too emotional over someone who has more hair than brains.
“That’s blackmail, Mike, not bribery,” Lucas deadpans, sick of Mike’s endless talk of his one-sided rivalry.
Will pipes up, “True, but it means that this Sunday is going to be insane.” Mike’s campaigns are the best. Some of Will’s favorite memories were spent in the Wheeler’s basement, perilously casting spells, breath hitched as his fate was decided by a roll of the dice, completely sucked into an alternate fantastical dimension guided only by Mike’s incredible storytelling. Will thinks he could spend forever there, never looking forward to going home.
“Hey Mike,” Dustin inquires, scraping the bottom of his yogurt pot, “you wouldn't be able to give us any hints about what our Party may encounter on our journey?” Before Mike can answer, Dustin is quickly slapped upside the back of the head by Lucas.
“What do you think, idiot? That would be cheating!” Lucas sounds exasperated.
“I don’t know, man, I’m pretty sure you’ll change your tune once we’re kissing distance from some huge scary monster” retorts Dustin, waving his hands in annoyance.
“Yeah, and we’ll figure our way out of it. We don’t need to cheat,” Lucas' voice rising.
Dustin narrows his eyes, “It’s not cheating, it's advance preparation."
“‘Advance preparation’,” Lucas repeats in a high-pitched voice, flapping his hands mockingly, “is the literal textbook definition of cheating!”
“Guys, guys, calm down,” all heads turn to Will as he interjects. “Look, Mike’s not the only one who’s been working on some crazy DnD updates, if we run into a crazy monster, there will be no advance preparation needed, trust me.” Will catches Mike’s neighboring grin across the table, as Dustin and Lucas settle down and begin badgering Will about the updates to his character.
-
Once lunch ends and the Party heads off to gym class, Mike taps Will’s shoulder, letting Dustin and Lucas walk ahead in front of them, who are both fervently discussing whether or not Indiana Jones could realistically defeat Boba Fett in a fight (without weapons involved).
“Hey Will, I was wondering if you’d wanna come round mine on Monday, after school? There are some characters I need you to give life to with your magic artist skills.” Mike is standing somewhat awkwardly, with his hands clasped in front of him, fidgeting. Although hangouts with just Will and Mike are a little less common, they aren’t unheard of. Will secretly enjoys having Mike all to himself, just like he did in Kindergarten (not that he’s going to tell Dustin or Lucas of course, they are still his best friends, but his friendship with Mike has always been a little different).
Will stops to stare at Mike, confused. “I thought you said you finished the campaign?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t get to fit all of my brilliant ideas into this one.” Mike shrugs nonchalantly. It seems like Mike never runs out of campaign ideas.
“Mike, it’s not even Sunday and you’re seriously already planning another campaign?”
“Duh,” Mike insists, “and I was thinking that it could even be a sleepover.” His eyes light up and he slings an arm around Will’s shoulders as both of them continue over to the locker rooms.
Will rolls his eyes. “You know that’s never going to happen in a million years, right? Monday’s a school night.”
“Sure, but I bet I can get my mom to cave,” Mike says, sounding a bit too overconfident, “My room is kinda gross right now, so if I cleaned it, I bet my mom would be too happy to even notice that you’re here, and if that doesn’t work, I can be super annoying until she finally gives in.” Mike is right, he can be super annoying if he wants to, not that Will really minds. He often hears Mike’s mom talk to his mom over the phone about what she’s supposed to do with all of Mike’s ‘boundless energy’.
Giggling at Mike’s antics, Will replies, “Sure, Mike. We’ll see.”
“Yeah, and all that’ll be left is for you to convince your mom and then we get a sleepover on Monday! Easy!” Mike throws his hands up in a mini celebration, not quite convincing Will that this dream will come to fruition (no matter how much Will really does want to have the sleepover).
-
If Will has to picture his own personal hell, he’s pretty sure that gym class would make up a hefty part of it, especially on a Friday afternoon. The weekend (and the Sunday campaign) feels millimeters away from his grasp, but his timetable forces him to trudge into the locker rooms. After initially wrinkling his nose due to the smell, Will finds the smallest, most invisible corner of the room, which he has since managed to claim as his own. His body curls in on itself as he gets into his gym clothes as fast as humanly possible, always making sure that he’s wearing at least one item of clothing at all times so that he’ll never be too exposed. After letting the raucous laughter and endless ribbing fade into the background, Will finishes getting changed and sprints out of the locker rooms like a guilty man fleeing his crime scene, eyes glued to the floor. He never really talks to the party while getting changed, he just focuses on getting out of there ASAP.
" -Dodgeball!" Was all Will catches once he exits the locker rooms, but that’s all that is needed for him to immediately fill with insurmountable dread, his face drops, and his pulse quickens. It seems like Will really is in his personalized hell, as his gym teacher ignores the Party's horrified expressions in favor of the loud cheering that comes from none other than James and Troy's mouths. Oh shit.
Will doesn’t know if they are going to make it out alive.
Unfortunately for the Party, two of Will’s classmates are the ones picking the teams. Hot shame bubbles up in Will’s stomach as the group of boys sitting around him diminishes slowly until it is just Will, Mike, Lucas, Dustin, and the two other losers in the class. Dustin once told Will that Lucas and Mike always got picked before them in these kinds of things (even though both Will and Dustin had way better aim than Mike) because their moms were all a part of the same book club, but Will thinks that it could be a bit more than that, as Dustin has his cleidocranial dysplasia and Will is just generally the smallest and weakest of the Party, which is never super ideal for team sports.
Will is pulled out of his thoughts when he hears “I guess I'll take Byers then,” coming out the mouth of his already disgruntled future teammate. He clumsily stands up and stumbles over to his team, pleased to find that he’s joined by both Lucas and Dustin, before sadly looking over and seeing Mike on the other team, accompanied by both Troy and James. Unlucky.
“God, I’m glad we haven’t got Byers on our team,” Troy sneers, openly staring at Will. “He always throws like a girl,” he adds before throwing one of the rubber balls with a limp-wristed throw and an ‘eugh’ sound effect. Will watches the ball fall pathetically, bouncing a couple of inches away from his feet; he blinks hard, willing the pools of tears that gather in his eyes to go away. Troy pulls this shit almost every day, and yet it still cut Will open as if this part of him shouldn’t have scabbed over already. Lucas and Dustin shoot concerned glances at Will whilst Mike glares daggers at Troy, but none of them dare to move.
Dodgeball at Hawkins Middle can only be described as a bloodbath. The moment the whistle blows, a stampede of 12-year-olds wrestle for the 15 rubber balls lined up between the two teams, all of them elbowing, cursing, and pushing, leaving Will, Dustin, and Lucas to stand awkwardly at the back of the gym. Balls are being shot like missiles, meaning that Will has to keep an eye out for the strays and try not to get caught out in the first two minutes of the game. The same can’t be said for Mike, however, who’s hit square in the face, causing his feet to do an awkward shuffle just to keep him upright. The rest of the Party wince in sympathy. Ouch.
“Oh shit, Wheeler just got smacked in his frog face!” Troy cackles, despite being on the same team as Mike. Even though you’re only out in dodgeball if you get hit below the shoulders, Mike sits down quietly on his team’s bench, likely relieved that he has an excuse to sit out the rest of the game.
The rest of the game isn’t much better. At one point, a ball rolled near Will, so he picked it up, only for George McCorkle to forcefully snatch it out of his hands, as though he was horrified by the idea that Will would actually throw the ball (which he wasn’t planning on doing anyway). The hands of the clock mock him further by going slower and slower as each excruciatingly long second passes, the whistle to end the game can’t come soon enough.
“I say that we just walk to the front, get hit, and get this game over and done with. Mike’s already out and we can go join him,” Dustin admits, his body slumped in defeat, “This isn’t a campaign, there’s no point going forward.”
Lucas quickly shoots back, “No way dude, show a little backbone. Everyone in this gym already thinks that we’re pussies.” His eyebrows are scrunched as his eyes dart side to side, not allowing himself to get caught out by any balls coming their way.
“Yeah, and one dodgeball game isn’t going to change that.” Dustin places his hands on his hips and steps forward a little aggressively. Their usual playful bickering has become a little heated and Will isn’t quite sure what exactly he should do.
“Will, what do you think?” Both Dustin and Lucas turn to look at him in sync. Creepy.
“Uh, well I guess it would be nice not to be the first ones out for once,” Will replies, voice shaking just a little. The game hasn't even been going on for five minutes. Dustin was right, Will doesn’t think that anything that he did, no matter how heroic, would ever change the minds of his classmates who thought he was just a weak-willed sissy, but at least he could say that he tried.
"Whatever, man," Dustin says, just as a ball whizzes past Will and hits Dustin hard on the shoulder, "guess I'm out anyway." He makes his way over to Mike, not caring that he’s sitting on the wrong bench, and leaving Lucas and Will, who are still standing at the back of the gym.
"Guess it's just us now, Will." Lucas bends his knees and raises his arms, hands spread, ready to catch any balls coming his way and Will does his best to replicate Lucas' movements. Yeah, guess so.
It doesn't take long for them to both be caught out anyway, but as a part of the final five on his team, Will can at least say that he made some attempt.
-
The following Saturday evening, Will’s sitting in his living room, enjoying whatever crap comes on the TV after a long day of catching up on homework and reading comics, which had only been briefly interrupted by Mike radioing Will to tell him that cleaning his room hadn’t worked and now ‘Plan B’ was in operation. The radio connection from Mike’s house to Will’s is always a little spotty as Will lives on the outskirts of Hawkins where there is an abundant population of signal-stopping trees. It always takes him a little bit longer to cycle over to one of his friend’s houses, enforcing the feeling that Will does not belong.
"So Will," Jonathan says, who had flopped down on the couch and put his feet up on the cushion next to Will, "did you finish listening to that mixtape I made for you?"
Will's eyes light up as he turns to face Jonathan, always eager to talk music with him. "Yeah! I finished when I got home after school the other day. There were some names I didn't recognize but they were all really awesome." Each new mixtape Jonathan gives him is always better than the previous one, always introducing insane artists Will has never heard of, as well as songs from old favorites. Will makes sure to safely keep all of his mixtapes in a box under his bed, one tape in the stereo at all times.
"Any new favorites?"
"I liked the Ramones," Will replies, grinning. He loved their blistering drums, growling guitar, and simple melodies.
“Yeah, they’re one of my favorite bands too, pretty cool aren’t they?” Jonathan smiles, always happy to introduce Will to more music, but Will pauses, whilst the bands like the Ramones and The Clash always made him feel cool, no one else seemed to think the same way. He’s never heard anyone listen to them or gush about them the same way he and Jonathan do.
“Are they, though? Everyone at school, including Mike, Lucas, and Dustin, have never even heard of them and all think that they’re weird,” Will blurts. He never tries to think about what everyone else thinks, usually letting his enthusiasm for his music brush away any concerns.
“So? Just because it seems like everyone else thinks the same thing, doesn’t mean that they’re right. Don’t listen to them, listen to the music you like,” Jonathan says, sitting up and moving next to Will. His concerned, but open, face encourages Will to continue.
“Yeah, but what if they’re right,” he sighs, though Jonathan does have a point.
“Look, Will, pretty much everyone in Hawkins is a close-minded moron that you should never listen to.” He says, bluntly.
Will’s eyes widen in shock at his brutal honesty, “Jonathan!”
“It’s true! They don’t know what good music is, they ban all the good literature from every library, and wouldn’t know art if it hit them in the face,” which Will does have to agree to, “but most importantly, they don’t know good people .” Now Jonathan places his hand on Will’s shoulder, as they hold eye contact. “They’ll try to change who you are to fit who they are and squish you into a little box to stop you from growing and realizing what idiots they all are. You can’t let them do that, okay?” Will nods, this time determined to sear Jonathan’s words into his brain so he can never forget them.
“You know, this is why I'm going to move to NYC when I'm older,” Jonathan adds wistfully, “They allow people who are different to actually exist, you know? And you should come with me.” Will grins, excited for a future that isn’t in Hawkins. He thinks about all the amazing new people he could meet. New York is a big city, one known for its diverse character and endless opportunities. It scares him a little, Hawkins was all he’s ever really known, apart from the brief visits to Indianapolis, which were made mostly on school trips, but knowing that he’d have Jonathan by his side makes him feel a little more comfortable and safe with the idea. This isn’t the first time Jonathan has mentioned New York, its university, or even the idea of Will joining him, but it is the first time that his dream seems so concrete that Will can almost taste it. Maybe Will doesn’t need to worry about fitting into Hawkins and slipping past that wall.
However, there is one last thing that Will is worried about.
“Jonathan, when you- uh get a girlfriend , make sure you don’t leave me behind, okay?” Will says in a small voice, partially influenced by the horror stories Mike has told about how Nancy had been transformed after she started dating Steve. Will tries to imagine what it would be like if Jonathan was the one who never wanted to hang out with him anymore, easily moody and never paying attention, but Will doesn’t even let the thoughts run their course, too terrified that he might somehow will them into reality.
Jonathan scoffs, “Hey, Will, I would never let that happen, you know that, right? And who said anything about a girlfriend anyway, You’ll always be my best friend and that’s all I need,” He insists, voice softened and eyes searching as his hands continue to rest on Will’s shoulder.
Will looks away and shrugs. “I don’t know, it’s just the stuff that Mike’s been saying about Nancy, I mean, you getting a girlfriend is going to happen eventually, right?”
“And if it does, then we can still move to New York together and still be neighbors.” Jonathan’s mouth then moves into a teasing grin, “Besides, you might be dating someone too, you know.”
“Gross.” Will rolls his eyes, turning his face away from Jonathan so that he can’t see the warm feeling that sparked in Will’s chest when Jonathan says the phrase ‘dating someone’ . Usually, the mention of a girlfriend was the quickest way to make Will feel a shiver of disgust roll through his body. Weird.
-
Later that evening, hours past sunset, Will and Jonathan hear the usual rumble of their mom’s car heading up the driveway, turning their heads to see the glow of the headlights shining through the window. As the slam of a car door and the twist of a key in a lock echo through the house, Will and Jonathan get up to greet their mom at the door.
“Oh look, it’s my favorite boys,” Will’s mom says, gathering her sons in a tight hug. Will is tucked close to her chest, the smell of cigarettes and the Byers family soap comforting him. Joyce is still wearing her Melvald’s uniform, dark eye bags beneath her warm eyes. “Tell me all about your days before bedtime,” she says, smiling. Will makes sure to go on and fill his mom in on all the details regarding the campaign the next day, his top ten predictions, hopes, and fears, who he thinks he’ll face on the campaign, how Will the Wise’s new updates will likely fare as well as the highly anticipated arrival of the Heathkit Ham Shack on Monday, whereas Jonathan tells her about the jobs he was able to get done around the house.
Will knows that if he were stranded on a desert island and could only take one person with him, he would take his mom. Although it somewhat made sense from a practical standpoint, his mom is one of the strongest people he knows, she knows what she wants and never lets anyone tell her different. And sure, maybe Dustin would technically be better for knowing how to locate streams and make fire, and Jonathan would be a better cook with all the tropical fish, but Joyce was the one Will knew would never give up on getting them out of there. The one who would tenderly kiss every grazed knee and then go and fight off a bear. Will also knows that by now, he was supposed to have outgrown his mom and keep her at arm's length since he was almost thirteen. Almost a man. But Will doesn’t know how he would cope. Maybe it does make him a baby and maybe he won’t need his mom someday, but in the meantime, he will continue to sink into her hugs and hold her hand, unafraid of his unwavering love.
-
Bedtime soon comes and Joyce ushers her sons to bed (even though it’s the weekend), citing that Will needs to wake up early if he’s going to make it to the Wheeler’s by 10 am. As Will goes through the motions of brushing his teeth and getting into his pajamas, he notices a menacing red glow coming from inside the shed, the start of a fire, maybe? But before he can call out, the glow dies, like an ember floating in the wind, making Will question if he’d ever seen it at all. He lets his excitement for Sunday overtake his thoughts instead, as he clambers under the covers of his bed and then lets his mind journey to the possibility that he and Mike will be able to have a sleepover on a school night. Whilst his mom has always tried to be conscious of whether Will is getting enough sleep for school, as he’s ‘ a growing boy’ , he knows that it’s Mike’s mom who is the big obstacle here. With their joint effort, maybe sleepovers on school nights can be Will’s new reality.
Will’s dreams that night are nothing short of confusing. A melting pot of hot flushes, cold chills, and the eerie feeling of claw-like fingers climbing up his neck, he spends the night plagued by images of glowing sheds, flower petal faces hidden in the woods, and red, melted skin on a humanoid figure. Despite spending most of the night tossing and turning, Will manages to fight his way into an uneasy sleep in the early hours of the morning. Once he’s woken up, startled awake by his alarm on the morning of Sunday the 6th, his troubling dreams have once again faded like the early morning frost. He spends the morning somewhat jumpy before settling into his old routine, determined to ignore whatever had gone on in his dreams last night. After feeding Chester and saying goodbye, Will speeds off on his bike, only a little early for Mike’s house. Despite the journey to Mike’s not actually being that long, the Wheeler house was still on the other side of Hawkins up on Maple Street. As he pedals, Will can feel the bump of the tires over the old gravel road transition smoothly onto the somewhat newly paved road, the bright morning sun decaying the frostbitten path.
It’s only when he reaches the intersection where Cornwallis and Kerley meet, Mirkwood, that Will once again experiences that mind-numbing feeling of cold dread. Hit with déjà vu, he vaguely remembers this apprehension appearing on his bike ride to school on Friday, in his shed on Saturday, and in his dreams just last night. Goosebumps make his arm hair stand upright as Will forces his bike to stop, throwing his head over his shoulder and darting his eyes side to side, scanning for the origin of whatever he felt was watching him and the almost-face from his dreams.
All he can see are the gnarled, old trees staring down at him instead, and a stray ginger cat, fishing through an abandoned trash bag.
And so Will begins to pedal once again, hoping that it was all in his head, thinking that he’d never see it again, but not knowing that he’d get to realize exactly what it was, later that night.