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– Never thought I’d end up in the rain with you again! – the brunette shouts between laughs, his voice competing with the downpour.
– Haven’t you heard? They say whoever you get caught in the rain with, you’ll stay with forever – the dark-haired boy laughs loudly, splashing through puddles and trying to shield himself from the raging weather with his already soaked-through sweatshirt.
Will thanks all the gods for the thunderous rain, which prevents his friend from hearing the sudden, loudly thudding drop of his heart. – Oh god! A whole lifetime with you, unbearable! How do I even put up with you… – he smiles, watching Mike throw his head back and laugh at his absurd joke.
– Oh yes, I’ll bore you with my stories and tales, and then you’ll become my illustrator and we’ll have a little bookshop somewhere not far from downtown New York. For instance… in the West Village, on Charles Street! What do you think of that plan? – he turns and flashes that very smile that sends Byers into a stupor, emptying his head and leaving him with nothing but a foolish grin.
– Going to exploit my labor for your own gain? But I don’t mind – the brunette smirks shyly, fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie. He seems to be in heaven right now, because he’s never felt such angelic sensations, or in hell, because he knows that this moment will inevitably end soon. And all he’ll have left is to blissfully remember this Mike Wheeler – Mike drowning under the downpour in the bright rays of the sun, Mike laughing loudly, Mike dreaming of their shared future, his Mike. Will shakes his head, chasing away the silly thoughts, and echoes his friend’s laughter, not forgetting to nudge him with his shoulder before overtaking him. And Mike just laughs even louder and catches up, grabbing him by the shoulders. But, miscalculating his strength, he sends them both tumbling onto the asphalt of a bright, sun-dappled Hawkins – there haven’t been days like this here in a long time. They laugh, competing, it feels, to see who can be louder.
– Got you – Wheeler, like a serpent tempter, just wraps his arms around the younger boy’s shoulders and whispers conspiratorially into his ear. For what feels like the umpteenth time that day, Byers freezes, as if he’s looked into the eyes of Medusa herself. He swallows loudly and turns to face his friend, stopping mere inches from that longed-for face. The silence becomes deafeningly loud, and the sound of the rain fades into the background.
Their eyes wander over each other’s faces as if seeing them for the first time, even though they’ve been friends since kindergarten.
They sometimes linger on the opposite pair of lips, but immediately avert their gazes, as if afraid of their own most secret desires. Wheeler still holds his friend’s shoulders – softly, caringly, afraid of causing harm to the closest and dearest person in his universe. No one had ever understood him better than Will; he could leave when he sensed the older boy needed space, or stay, completely ignoring protests, fearing for the brunette as if he were the brightest part of his own life, a light about to go out, yet rekindling every time.
Mike gently moves his hands from his friend’s shoulders to his neck and further – cupping the brunette’s face. He exhales loudly and leans forward, pressing his forehead against Will’s, closes his eyes, and breathes slowly.
– Promise me that everything I just planned will really come true – a lump forms in the older boy’s throat and his heart aches, breathing becomes harder. And Byers just exhales quietly and hugs him softly, ever so softly – I promise – and then, it seems, even the sun began to shine brighter, and the rain subsided, as if nature itself was guiding their conversation, showing them the way.
– We should go… – Wheeler slowly gets up from the asphalt, offering his friend a hand and, not letting it go, leads them both towards his house.
– Thank you for your purchase, have a nice day! – the brunette hears as he turns onto the neighboring street. An invisible force stops him with a powerful punch to the gut. It’s been too long since he heard that voice, too long since he saw those brown eyes and dark brown curls. There’s a bustle inside the small, at first glance, shop; Mike is at the checkout, trying to ring up all the books as quickly as possible, flitting around the register. Byers stands outside the window and remembers only that sunny July day. He made a promise but didn’t keep it; more than 10 years have passed, and now, he’s completely changed – no longer that foolish teenager. They have different lives and interests, they haven’t spoken in ages, and it seems they’ve remained strangers who know everything about each other.
He slowly enters the shop and approaches the nearest shelf, lightly runs his fingers over the book spines, and inhales the scent of bustle and new pages. He picks up the first book he sees and wanders with it to the checkout.
– Hello, good afternoon, just the one book? – the voice is so familiar, it cuts through his heart like a knife, unsparing. And it hurts even more because Wheeler is looking right at Will and doesn’t recognize him; he gives a casual smile and hands over the chosen book – something about psychology, it seems. He was never interested in that.
– Yes, um, thank you – Byers has already regretted his idea ten times over and decided he’s completely lost his mind if he thought Mike would recognize him, or even if he did, would want to talk to him. Stupid.
The awkwardness of the situation grew, so the brunette made a decision to quickly shove the money over, grab the book, and leave this little shop as soon as possible.
– Have a good… – the dark-haired boy doesn’t get to finish, as the somehow overly familiar customer disappears and the next one is already at the register – …day.
And Will tries to get away from this cursed Charles Street as fast as possible, completely missing that the name of the shop holds familiar words: “Sorcerer and Paladin.”
And Mike, for his part, doesn’t realize he just served his long-lost friend, whose letters he still rereads before bed, regretting only one thing: that once, on that very hot day, he didn’t kiss him.