Chapter Text
A ruler rapped against Mike’s desk, jolting him from his trance.
“Wheeler, you with us?” The teacher snapped.
He mumbled a reply and nodded, pointing his gaze at the board. Satisfied, the teacher returned to her lecture at the front of the room. Mike soon zoned out again, his mind swirling with unwanted thoughts and memories, flashing images and words he wasn't sure were his. He wished Will were there to pass notes with and keep his mind off… everything.
He just wished Will were there.
***
Mike trudged through the rest of the school day, dodging the bullies and cliques in the lunchroom and scraping by with a D on his most recent math test. He sighed and shoved it into his backpack, barely glancing over it. His parents were undoubtedly going to yell at him over it, but Mike had given up trying to please them.
Karen was always busy, irritated, or half-drunk, slumped into her kitchen chair without a care in the world about her son.
Ted was rarely mentally present, and when he was, he was always either spewing hate or criticizing Mike, whether it be his hair, his clothes, his grades, or his friends; his father always found something to attack him about.
With Nancy off at college, there was nothing he could to about it short of snapping and telling him to fuck off, and Mike didn’t feel like pushing it any further than he already was.
***
He ran into Dustin while grabbing his bike to go home and plastered a smile on his face to try and avoid any suspicion.
Dustin gave a small wave. “Hey man, you wanna come over? Me and Lucas were gonna watch a movie-”
“Nah, I’m- uh- really tired.” Mike yawned exaggeratedly for emphasis.
Dustin frowned and looked like he was about to call out his bullshit, so Mike continued. “A-Also, my mom asked me to come right home and do a bunch of chores.” He shrugged. “Maybe next time.”
“Alright,” Dustin said warily, but Mike was already jumping on his bike and pedaling away.
***
After he left the schoolgrounds, his breathing caught as he held back tears. Why? Why did he push away his friends? Why didn’t he ask for help? Why could he barely stand to think about anything without immediately hating himself? Why couldn’t he tell the truth?
Friends don’t lie.
The voice bubbled up from the back of his mind. He barely told the truth at all anymore; how could he call himself a friend to anyone? He was just a worthless idiot, a liar, a selfish fucking freak.
How dare he feel bad for himself? How dare he, when so many others had suffered so much? He hadn’t been experimented on as a child. He hadn’t watched as his sibling was brutally murdered. Sure his parents were absent, but at least they weren’t physically abusive like Will’s father.
Mike seized the thought of Will and dragged himself out of the depths of his mind. It was Friday, so he could finally talk to Will on the phone again. He was glad Ms. Byers had found a job and that they were settling in, but damn it for keeping him from Will.
And El. Of course. He loved his girlfriend, even if she was across the country. He loved her.
He kept repeating it under his breath as he biked, as if it would make it true.