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“I don’t like girls.”
The amount of stuttering that left his smooth, quivering lips finally cleared up at that last line, a pair of hazel eyes locked on mine and keeping me completely still in my seat, tension like a rain cloud over my head.
I don’t like girls.
That one line, such a simple sentence, yet complicated and a difficult one to utter under a certain circumstance, flooded my mind. His voice, his velvet soft voice, ran around in my mind, that line one that would echo in and occupy my brain for many years to come.
“But. . I had this crush on someone. Even though I. . I know they’re not like me and. . .he’s. .”
Stunning hazel eyes, the rings of green circling his pupils only uncovered by golden sunlight, kept me paralyzed in my seat. Like his gaze had two sharp fangs resembling a black mamba’s, the shooting emotion in his honey tinted eyes like venom from those very fangs, biting into me and denying me any control over my body, and now I couldn’t even move under the pressure of his stare.
The painful and yearning emotion swirled in his eyes and carried itself on his honey-soaked, sugar-coated words. Honey-soaked, sugar-coated words that dripped with unrequited love and hesitant acceptance. Honey-soaked, sugar-coated words that were sputtered in utter desperation and defeat, as if he’d just accepted his fate without an intervention of someone else who’s voice mattered in this situation, like he could just give up on something he’d accepted as fact even if he wasn’t sure of it.
“And he’s. . .he’s just my Tammy.”
Will’s voice echoed through the silent room, that last string of words toppling out of his sweet mouth and leaving us all with a bitter taste of confusion and a shared question; who the fuck is Tammy?
No, but seriously. Who the fuck was Tammy?
And as that very confusing line was carried to the many people standing and sitting around the now very cramped resting room of the Squawk, a soft murmur travelled on the stale air circulating the room.
I finally broke the stare Will and I shared and looked down at my bouncing leg, anxiously trying to find and connect the puzzle pieces of information and meaning in my best friend’s desperate words that swam around the pool of incoherent thoughts swirling around in my brain.
‘I had this crush on someone.’
Why did he look at me when saying these things?
And those puzzle pieces, incoherent and unclear by themselves, found each other and connected, clicking into place. Now those unclear, incoherent puzzle pieces were so crystal clear, so loud, I wondered why it took so long for me to place them.
Will Byers, my absolute best friend since kindergarten, my clever cleric, my Will the Wise, my forever favorite person, had a crush on me.
And I had a crush on him back.
Except, it wasn’t even really a crush.
Because I was in love with him, and to me, being in love and just crushing was two different things. Two majorly different things.
But of course, I would never let myself believe it. I couldn’t possibly. I was dating Eleven – the sweetest girl that I’d never dream of hurting but found myself accidentally hurting because I couldn’t figure out my feelings – and how would I explain to her I was in love with someone else? I was in love with someone that wasn’t just someone else, but my very best friend and someone who was like a brother to her.
So I pushed away the thoughts and tried my best to clear my ever-busy mind, trying to focus on the surroundings around me.
Now, Will’d stopped talking and had stood up, caught in the middle of an ever-piling hug. I, shaky and left so utterly confused, limped over to the hug pile consisting of the love of my life, the person who was meant to be the love of my life and my life-long friends, getting pulled into the hug pile by one of my life-long friends in question. It was Lucas, who pulled me into the hug and forced me closer to that hazel-eyed, sunkissed boy and caused me to take a huge whiff of his cinnamon-sugar scent.
After the hug, which lasted typically longer than I’d prefer, I stumbled back over to my seat and sat down, my leg still shaking as I tried to gather my escaping, final coherent thoughts.
I hadn’t really been paying attention to much, only that we were planning something and people were constantly chattering about the fight of our lives like it was going to be something awesome and not something we should be dreading because it was honestly a life or death, very grim, situation we very unfortunately found ourselves in.
Well, I should clarify – they were doing all the planning. And by they, I everyone in the room that included a person who just woke up from a coma – the one, the only, Maxine Mayfield –, my close knit friends I’d known since forever, Will’s mother and older brother, my older sister, and some random adults I’d never been close with. Even a red-haired lady with the most lavender tinted eyelids whom I didn’t know the name of and Murray – the self-proclaimed matchmaker that’d gotten my girlfriend’s father and my best friend’s mother to fate and even my older sister and my best friend’s older brother – were present.
After a while, I got increasingly confused and decided I’d take a walk outside or something and got up to do exactly that. My mind was so crowded and loud that I just had to get out of here. I had to go somewhere else. Anywhere but here.
Nancy had spotted me trying to make an escape from the very crowded room and stopped me in my tracks, investigating where I was going. “Mike,” she said in a soft but firm voice that reminded me of my mother’s, “where are you going?”
My breath and words caught in my throat and I sputtered like an idiot like I had no idea what my intentions were, even though I’d just planned exactly what I wanted to do in my mind before even getting up. “I, um, I-I’m just. . .just gotta. . .gotta. . get air. I’m going outside, you know… to get air.” I must’ve repeated that last line for good measure, as if she hadn’t already heard me the first time.
I mentally cursed myself for stuttering so badly and felt my face heat up with embarrassment as everyone turned around to look at me – including a pair of my favorite honey-hazel eyes.
“. . Okay. .” she sighed out and I continued off to my mission of getting air, stopping just short of the door as I heard my sister excuse herself from the end-of-the-world-battle planning and followed me out.
Opening the door to the back of the Squawk and holding it open for my sister, I sat on the cold concrete in front of the garage’s drive-in. Nancy came over and sat next to me, patiently staring at the radio tower while waiting for me to talk.
I didn’t say anything, unsure of what I was even thinking about at the moment.
“Is there a reason why you needed to get some air?” She asked, her voice soft and inviting. Her soft tone of voice quickly calmed me.
The silence between us caused me to utter the pathetic words on the tip of my tongue. “I. . .just needed air.”
“Was it about Will?” she sighed and I knew she could see right through my lies.
A pressure in my throat built up and it was like all the unsaid words I wished I would’ve said were piling up and trying to squeeze their way out. I just nodded, the pile of words keeping me from saying anything.
“. . .Do you want to talk about it?”
I shrugged, obviously wasting my sister’s time and my only chance to get off of my chest what I’d needed to shed these whole five years. “Yeah. . .” was all I could get out.
She nodded next to me, her hair hitting my shoulder. “Okay.”
“I think. . . I think Will has a crush on me.” I finally stated, reciting the obvious.
“I think that was what he meant, Mike.”
“I know.”
“Well, how does that make you feel?”
I racked my brain for any kind of something I could say. “. . I don’t know. Confused, I guess?”
“Well, confused about what?”
“Confused because. . .why would he have a crush on me? And why didn’t I notice sooner? And why would he say that in front of everyone?”
She took in a deep inhale and shrugged. “I don’t know. You know. . .these are questions for Will. You should talk to him.”
“I don’t–. . . I can’t.”
“Well, why not?”
“I just can’t.”
“Why not?” I could tell her patient demeanor was starting to wear off and she was getting slowly agitated. Just like it always went when she tried to talk me into something.
“I can’t just talk to him,” At that, I stood up and took in a deep breath, crossing my arms over my chest and trying to calm myself down. I felt a rising annoyance and desperation bubble up in my body and just couldn’t stay there anymore. The annoyance showed in my voice and I knew I’d pissed her off, though she was only trying to help me. I started to walk off, unsure of where I even wanted to go.
“Where are you going? Mike? Seriously, I don’t know why you’re making things so difficult!” She started after me, trying to get me to stop walking away. I honestly had no idea where I was going, only that I needed to go somewhere. Anywhere. “Why don’t you just talk to him?”
I stopped in my tracks and all that pent up anger, all those desperate words toppled out of my mouth and I couldn’t stop them. With tears pricking my eyes like a sharp sewing needle to my skin, I cried out, “that’s because I’m in love with him, Nancy!”
She stopped, her lips parting just slightly, left speechless.
The words felt like they’d been forcefully torn out of my throat, rolling off the tip of my tongue like hot lava.
“I’m in love with him. I’m in love with him and I have been for years and I just– I just, I don’t know how to tell him that and now finding out he likes me back but it’s only just a crush and I’ve been in love with him forever and I can’t tell him because maybe it’ll ruin our friendship and yeah he ‘likes’ me back, but what if he’s over me? Because I’m his ‘Tammy’, whatever that fucking means!” Tears fell down my cheeks, hot and burning my cold skin.
Breathless and sobbing, I continued, my voice shaky. “And I searched for him, day and night, looking for him when no one else cared to. I lost him for a whole week, not knowing if my best friend since kindergarten was dead or not. I lost him for a week, Nancy, and I went insane. I lost him for a whole year just two years ago when he moved to California. And I . . .I-I can’t lose him again! Because if I tell him how I feel, he might think differently of me and I might lose him again. And yeah, he won't be dead and I’ll know he’s safe, but losing this friendship over stupid feelings is such a fucking dumb way to lose him again. Knowing it was all my fault. So yeah, if I lost Will again even though he’s alive, don’t you know that’s even worse?” I hiccuped through my sobs, my fists tight at my side, my nails digging into my palms.
With a last shaky breath, tears wetting my lips, I whispered, “That’s even worse, because. . .because it would’ve been all my fault. And it’s been all my fault everytime. . .I could’ve. . I could’ve done something – anything – that night to keep Will from going missing. But I didn’t. And now he’s in danger and it's all my fault. It's all my fault, Nancy.”
“Oh.” Her lips quivered as she stared at me.
Oh.
And now everything that I’d tried so hard to deny, everything I tried so hard to pretend didn’t exist, was let out into the world and it was true now. I tried so hard to get myself to forget how I felt for Will, to deny that I felt anything more than a platonic love for my best friend. To deny that I could love him.
I tried so hard. I tried so, so hard. I tried my best, I really did. But my best was never good enough. I tried so hard to convince myself that I didn’t love Will. I didn’t want to believe I could love him.
William Byers. My best friend. A boy, who wasn’t just only a boy. Because he was the one person, the one puzzle piece, I’d had my whole life yet yearned so badly for.
When I met him on that swing set in kindergarten, I felt like my life began. And that day in the quarry, seeing his lifeless body on that stretcher and being carried out of the water, I felt my heart stop. But I never said any of that. Just more unsaid words that I never found the courage to say to him, but should’ve. Maybe if I said what I really needed to, maybe everything would’ve been different now.
But, Eleven was my girlfriend. Eleven was the person I was meant to be in love with. Except. . .I didn’t feel that way, not for her. No, never for her. But for him. For Will.
It was always Will.
A loud sound came from the sky and looking up, I realized the bright-blue sky had turned into an ugly mix of gray clouds and dark sky. A storm was going to be starting.
“We. . .we should go inside.” Nancy muttered and grabbed my arm, basically dragging me alongside her as she pulled us both into the Squawk. I just let her drag me, only half aware, desperate to gather and calm my fleeting thoughts.
I’m in love with Will.
I don’t want to be.
I love him so much. I’ve loved him forever.
I wish I didn’t feel this way.
But then, there was a chance.
Will had a crush on me. He said so himself.
Maybe if I just tried to talk to him.
But what if he didn’t feel the same?
There was a chance, though. A light – small and dim, but most certainly there – shone at the end of the very dark tunnel. And possibly, there was a chance. Small, barely visible, but there.
There were so many words left unsaid. There was so much on my mind. That was because I’d been scared my entire life. I was always too scared to say anything that could possibly backfire on me. That was the problem – I was just always too scared.
But if I took a chance. . .
I blinked back hot, stinging tears and took in a deep breath.
“I’m going to talk to him,” I said to Nancy, my eyes not quite meeting hers yet.
She affectionately squeezed my arm gently and nodded. “What are you waiting for, then?” I finally met her gaze to see the small smile on her lips and smiled back.
I nodded. “Okay.” I wiped my tears, now a few small ashamed giggles leaving my lips. I felt so silly for crying.
Dragging myself through the dark hallway, I made my way to the still crowded resting room of the building and searched for Will in the crowd of people.
“Well, would you look at who’s back,” Hopper said as I walked into the room.
Nervously, I looked up and felt everyone staring at me. I wondered if anyone could tell I’d been crying. “Um, hey,” I said a little too quietly under the pressure of everyone’s gaze.
El seemed to pipe up as I stepped into the room. “Mike!”
She ran over to me like I hadn’t been here the whole time. “Hi, El,” I said softly.
She led me over to the couch and we sat down, watching Robin and Steve come up with a plan for whatever the hell we were doing. We sat in silence, El’s hand too close to mine. She eventually took it in hers and I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t keep pretending, especially when she stared into my eyes, hers gorgeous and shiny, a dark shade of chocolate brown. Standing up and gripping her hand in mine loosely, I led her over to a spare room in the building.
It was the room Will had slept in when he passed out. It was a small room, now very dimly lit from the sky outside being all grey and black. I shut the door behind me and sat on the bed, Eleven coming over to sit next to me. I could see the confusion in her furrowed brows, the way her eyes squinted just slightly. “Mike. . .?” She muttered after a while as we sat in a tense silence.
I was staring down at my hand in hers, swallowing hard and subconsciously chewing the inside of my cheek. “Can we talk? For just a moment?”
She nodded, looking increasingly worried with every moment. “Okay. . . About what?” Her coffee brown eyes searched mine, looking for any kind of answer I could offer in only my facial expressions.
“Um. .” I searched my brain for any kind of explanation, any kind of easy way to say what I needed to. “I. . . I think we should. . .spend some time apart. It’s not that I don’t. . .love–” my throat caught on the word, “ –you, it’s just. . .”
“Is it about Will?” The words echoed in my brain, a line I’d heard one too many times before from my sister or mother, and occasionally Eleven herself.
I nodded. “Yeah. . I. .”
“You love him, right?” Her tone and expression was expectant, like she already knew the answer that was about to roll off of my tongue. Not waiting for me to answer, she continued with, “I knew that. I was waiting for you to say something.”
“Oh.” I now searched her expression, looking for any kind of emotion in her face that could help me figure out what she was thinking or feeling. “I. . I’m sorry for not saying anything. . .sooner. .”
El stared at me for a moment before pulling me into a loose hug, her arms just barely around me. I tried to fix it and hugged her tighter, but it wasn’t anything close to a hug with Will. Will’s hugs were the best, and I would never get anything closer to his.
And there go the thoughts of Will again. I couldn’t get him off my mind. . .
“Thanks for understanding, El.”
She nodded. “I was thinking the same before you said anything. I felt you kind of . . . pushing away from me. And I see the way you and Will act and. . .”
I nodded back and held her in my arms tighter. She finally reciprocated and hugged me back.Thinking back to the painting he’d made me, I decided to say another thing I’d neglected to say. “And, thanks for the painting, too.”
I felt her stiffen in my arms at this and she pulled away from the hug, her eyebrows furrowing in major confusion. For a split second, I thought I’d said something wrong or something she just didn’t understand.
“What. . .What painting?”
I laughed nervously. “What do you. . .The painting Will made, the one you commissioned?”
El shook her head again, more frantic and confused with every moment. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I never commissioned a painting?”
What?
“You’re. . .sure?”
“Mike, I’m very sure. What does ‘commission’ even mean?”
This comment paralyzed me in my seat, like Will’s heavy gaze had earlier during his speech. I stilled in my seat, staring at El and nervously laughing. “I. .”
I couldn’t find anything to say. Standing up in an urgent matter and reaching the door in a few strides, I let out a quick, “I have to go,” which earned a valid reaction from my former girlfriend, who just called out for me to come back, definitely confused.
‘What painting?’
What does she mean? Will told me she had commissioned the painting and told him what to draw. . .but unless. . .
But why? Why would he lie like that?
Another puzzle piece clicked into place, and something in my mind just clicked.
Reciting a line from El’s letter she sent me when they were in California, I realized something.
‘Will has been painting a lot. I think it is for a girl he likes.’
I remember feeling such a mix of curiosity and raging jealousy, thinking of Will liking someone else. Someone that wasn’t me.
Eleven had no idea what I was talking about, because she hadn’t even known about the painting herself.
Rushing into the resting room with such urgency, I found Will and Dustin excitedly talking about something on the couch. Will was smiling, his smile bright and radiant, brightening up his honey tinted eyes. A rosy pink tint powdered his cheeks and the laughter leaving his lips caused my heart to flutter.
I cleared my throat, the chattering in the room stopping and causing everyone to look at me. “Um, Will?” I mumbled softly, approaching him.
He looked up slowly and back at Lucas and Dustin, then me. “Hi, Mike,” He said shyly, my face growing more and more pink at how adorable he looked with yellow glow from the overhead light making him look angelic.
“Can we. . . can we talk?” I tried to keep my voice low, not wanting to draw unwanted attention – though, with the entire room staring at us and probably knowing what was going on, I bet I’d failed the moment I called his name.
Will looked at Dustin and I really wished he’d stopped doing that before he nodded slightly. “Um, yeah. ‘Course.”
“Okay, yeah.” I mumbled nervously and led him towards the garage of the Squawk, trying to disguise this as some sort of him helping me with something.
He followed me out of the Squawk and to the garage, helping me push open the heavy garage door. When the door finally opened, I searched around the room for something in the room to help me with my improvised plan. Spotting my backpack in the corner that held a few things that were important to me. I dropped to my knees and grabbed the small, grey pouch in the small pocket of my bag. It was the pouch I kept all of my Dungeons and Dragons figurines.
I went over to a counter and dumped them on the surface, Will watching my every movement with cautious, confused eyes. I looked at him and met his gaze, softly smiling and then turning away when he smiled back, feeling my nerves return.
I cleared my throat nervously, searching through the pile of D&D figures and looking for my Mike the Brave and Will the Wise.
Will smiled brightly at his figure and took it softly in his hand, gazing down at it. “Will the Wise! I didn’t know you still had these!” The excitement showed in his voice and I thought it was adorable. His amber eyes seemed to brighten to a honey colored tint, his unfairly thick eyelashes framing them perfectly.
I grabbed my figure and smiled down at it. “Y-yeah. . Why wouldn’t I?”
“I dunno. .Thought you thought we were too old for this now or something,” He stated, and I swore he had undertones of sass in his voice.
“Too old? For Dungeons and Dragons?”
He let out a laugh that was in the middle of a really breathy laugh and a scoff. “Yeah. You and Lucas, like, flamed me about it in eighth.”
I looked at him, his sad hazel eyes in this blue lighting of the blue-gray lighting outside reminding me of that exact day. The day Eleven’d broke up with me and Lucas and I spent the day moping around with Will trying to cheer us up with D&D. “Dude, that was eighth grade,” I sighed out, wondering if that day and the fight we had really had impacted him. In a desperate attempt to lighten up the mood and especially brighten the sparkle in his eyes, I added in, “plus, I’m like. . . a huge D&D nerd. Seriously, weren’t you just teasing me about it back in the field?"
“Guess so,” he mumbled, staring back down at his Will the Wise figure. “It still kinda hurt me though, I guess. I mean, I just wanted to play with you guys, but this was like two years ago so what am I even talking about right now?” The way he sputtered and blurted out a fast sentence reminded me of Robin and I felt the slightest bit of jealousy at the fact he’d been spending most of his time with her this week.
I glanced at Will and found him staring at me already. I looked away in surprise and then looked back at him in an attempt to play off the fact I’d just gotten flustered at him just looking at me. “Um. . Sorry. I really didn’t mean it, I was being such a dick.”
Will shrugged in agreement. “Yeah, you really were.”
It felt like a punch to the stomach to hear him agree with me, yet somehow I cracked a smile and he did too. “I know. Seriously, though, can I be honest?”
He nodded softly, gazing at me with innocent hazel eyes in a way that said, ‘go ahead.’
I kind of paused before saying anything, my breath catching in my throat as I stared at him. Navy blue light trickled in from the open steel garage door, painting the room and Will in that grayish-blue light. The wind was howling outside and rain pitter-pattered on the top of the roof, creating a soft and quiet moment. It gave me major flashbacks to that day in the rain when Will and I fought and I felt my heart crack at the thought of us fighting.
After a moment of staring at him, I finally found an ounce of courage to say something. “If I’m being honest. . .do you remember our fight at the Rink-O-Mania? You were mad at me for not reaching out. . .” Will nodded softly, urging me to go on with an intense curiosity in his eyes, “I. . I was scared, I think, to reach out. I tried. .so, so many times. But your mom’s line was always busy, and Eleven said you were so busy with your painting and I. . I wondered if maybe I was going to annoy you by trying so hard to reach you and I just stopped trying. And yeah, saying this now means nothing, I know. But. . I needed you to know.”
He nodded, trying to find the significance of this confession. “It’s okay. I know I should’ve tried to reach you, too. Maybe I was scared too, you know? I don’t even know.”
A small silence enveloped us as we tried to find more things to say.
After a moment, he softly whispered, “can I be honest, too?”
“I think that’s fair, yeah,” I cracked a smile, causing him to, too.
“I was terrified today. Terrified of saying what I needed to say. Terrified of saying how I felt. I . . .” He looked down at his fidgeting hands and his lips quivered, giving me a heavy desire to steady them.
“I think you were so brave for that, though. Like, really brave. I think sometimes it's hard to say how you really feel." I especially resonated with that, because I had so many things left unsaid. "And especially when you're different. But I-I don't think of you any differently now, Will. Not at all. If anyi, I think of you as just so much braver after that, really. I. . I couldn't. . . I could never say something like that in front of a huge crowd. So. . ."
Will tell silent, looking at me with those gorgeous hazel eyes. I got nervous and looked away, clearing my throat.
In an attempt to get him to stop looking like the next person I'd kiss like he was the only oxygen in space, I changed the topic. "It’s my turn for a confession. . . Um, I still have no idea who the fuck Tammy is and what the hell you were even talking about at that point in your speech, by the way,” I let out a small chuckle.
Will shrugged. “It’s an. . inside joke. With Robin. . . Okay, my turn. I, uh. . ." He stared down at his lap and looked like he got lost in his thoughts for a moment. "Yeah, I have nothing. Do you mind going again while I think of a good one?” He cracked another smile that caused my heart to flutter and face to redden just slightly.
“Sure. I. . I know it’s stupid now, but. . I thought you were in love with Robin at the start.”
He parted his lips and dropped his mouth open in surprise. “Seriously? She’s like, so much older than me though?”
I laughed. “Yeah, I know. I don’t know – you and her seemed so close in just the span of a week and . . .yeah. It's dumb, I know.”
He giggled, bringing his hand to his mouth and laughing into it. I, subconsciously, grabbed his hand and pulled it down gently to reveal his wide smile. I found his mouth-covering-while-laughing thing adorable, however it was a great annoyance when I wanted to see his smile. Will flushed pink and I pulled my hand away quickly, flustered. “S-sorry,” I laughed shyly and looked down at my lap.
Another silence fell over us, a tension thick above our heads. It was now an awkward tension, not as comfortable as the one we had earlier. We usually had comfortable silences where we could just be calm and do stuff while sitting close, like reading a book or watching something, but this kind of tension wasn’t the same. Usually our silences were shared and not awkward, unlike this new one.
My heart sped up and I nervously messed with my nails, now trying to bite at them as a distraction.
“. . .I lied about the painting.”
Silence.
Stunned, paralyzing silence.
“Eleven never commissioned it. It was all me.”
Will didn’t look up at me when he said that. He sat with his Will the Wise figurine in his palm, staring down at it and so tense as he uttered the simple sentence.
“I know,” I said softly.
Silence.
Rain pattered and came down harder on the roof, sounding like someone was continuously dropping or throwing small pebbles on the roof. The wind howled louder now.
“How did. . .How did you know?”
“I thanked her for the painting and she asked me ‘what painting’?”
“Oh.”
“I just. . .I just don’t know why you lied, Will. You shouldn’t have lied. Friends don’t lie, you know.” I cringed myself out a little on that last line.
Will let out a sarcastic, breathy laugh. “Please don’t start with that ‘friends don’t lie’ shit.”
I looked at him dead in the eyes now, his honey tinted eyes seeming to darken to amber. “Why did you lie, though? You know you can always talk to me.”
“It didn’t seem like it.”
“What do you mean?” Now a new tone showed up in my voice – a mix of confusion and offense.
“What. . .Mike. You know exactly what I mean.”
I stared down at him, a rising pressure in my throat as I realized this would only end up as another fight. “No, I seriously don’t get it.”
“That’s the problem! You never get it, Mike.” Will stood in front of me, his body facing me and a hurt look on his face. His hands were out in a shrugging kind of motion.
I shook my head, words trying to force their way out of my mouth without even being able to sort themselves into a coherent sentence.
Rain pattered on the roof harder now. Much harder, sounding like hale.
Silence. Heavy, heavy silence as we stared into each other’s eyes, both not seeing the other’s side of the story. Both of us, staring into one another's eyes, staring yet not truly seeing the other.
I was the first one to break the silence. “Why did you lie?”
“You know why.”
I was so confused. I was so fucking confused. Confusion – and the annoyance that came with it – bubbled up and reached my tone and words, thoughts swirling around my mind, leaving me all the more confused. “I really don’t, Will.”
“You couldn’t even hug me at the airport last year, Mike. So what should I think? You want to know what I thought? I thought my own best friend thought I was a monster, a disgusting monster, for being different. And I know I’m different, I always was. I am wrong, Mike. I was born wrong. Don’t you think I know that? You don’t have to keep pretending you don’t think of me differently.” The shakiness in his tone, the cracking of his voice as tears welled up in his eyes, tinted navy blue from the loud, thumping rain and the way his shouting cut through the howling of the wind.
A pressure built up in my throat, like barbed wire wrapped around it.
Will, lips quivering, body shaking and his knees giving out on him as he fought to stand his ground and keep from falling to the ground. His hair messy, amber eyes glossed over, tears dripping down his face, all while painted in that blue light making him look absolutely ethereal. He looked ethereal. Too good for this world, too perfect to be human. The hues of the blue and gray sky painted him in such an angelic lighting, really bringing out the shininess of his eyes and tears.
In a swift movement, he turned on his heels and I imagined him with angel wings, huge and white and fluffy, swinging around and swiveling on his back as he turned so smoothly. He didn’t even look back, just walked to the exit in three big powerful strides.
It was raining heavily, the ground in front of the garage door already damp from the rain. Will walked out of the garage, into the pouring rain. He immediately got soaked, shivering from the freezing cold wind and water reaching him.
And, surprising the both of us, I reached out and grabbed his wrist.
He turned to look at me, water dampening his hair and making it stick to his scalp. The rain did the same to me, instantly soaking me in sharp, stinging rain drops. It stung, badly, yet I would not move.
“I wanted the painting to be from you and only you. I wanted it to be from you so, so badly, Will!” I tightened my grip on Will’s wrist, not so hard it hurt, and pulled him into me. One hand remains gripping his wrist, the other coming to cup his face. And it was like a magnetic pull, pulling my lips to his.
I screwed my eyes shut, crashing my lips into his with such a force, our noses kind of hit each other’s. I didn’t care and continued to frantically bring our lips together, needing his kiss so badly.
Will was tense under my hold, but quickly melted into me and it was the best feeling – feeling him melt into my touch, into our kiss. His arms came up and wrapped around my neck, pulling me closer like we weren’t as close as we could get. His body pushed up against mine and I pushed closer, like we could fuse as one if we got close enough.
Rain dripped and soaked us in freezing cold water, the cold wind hitting the water and making us even colder. The hand on his wrist slipped down and my fingers entwined with his, heat from his hand seeping into mine.
Frantically, he pulled away from me, hands braced on my chest. “No– Mike,” He panted, honey eyes widened and frantically blinking back tears that couldn’t be stopped. “What about El? You– she’s–”
“We talked about it, Will! We’re not dating anymore!” I cried out, desperate for what I’d been needing forever.
“. . .why didn’t you just say that before?” He cracked a smile and connected our lips again, tears and raindrops soaking through our clothes.
After we pulled away, gasping and panting, I finally did it.
I finally said every single thing I should’ve all that time before.
“I love you, Will Byers.”
“I love you, Mike Wheeler.”