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It felt way too tight around his chest.
It made him feel as if he had been ambushed by a kraken that was now tightening its grip, slowly suffocating him to death.
Will couldn’t shake a feeling that his intestines were gonna get squished any second now.
"How’re you feeling? It looks great on you! Maybe you should see yourself in the mirror?" Joyce was beaming at Will apologetically, looking so miserably that he forgot at once how mad he got at her ten minutes earlier, after she walked in to the room he shares with Joanne without knocking and brought a box of hand-me-down to try it on, even though she promised him to take him to the local mall to buy a brand new shirt for the inauguration of the school year later this week.
"Willie, honey, I know. I promised you a new shirt, but the bonus I got promised by my boss, I didn’t get it this time either. But I’m giving you my word that with the next bonus I’ll get, I’m gonna buy you all the clothes you want, deal." Joyce looked at him anxiously, waiting for his reaction.
And Will really didn’t want to disappoint his mom any more than he already had, so he cracked a smile instead.
"Mom, that’s okay. Don’t worry about it."
"I’m sure you’re gonna find something you’ll like, yeah?"
"Mom, it’s fine. You sure that Jon doesn’t want it anymore?"
"Yeah, that’s fine with me. If you want it, it’s yours now." Will didn’t even notice when Joanne appeared by the door, still wearing her uniform from working in the hardware store on the other side of the town. Her hair looked a little disheveled, and she still had those dark circles after she stayed late to help him with his summer math homework yesterday, which he forgot to hand in last week.
"Oh. Thanks." He tried his best to come across as grateful, even though the same shirt kept trying to choke him with every passing second. He is not sure how he is he gonna survive wearing it next week in public.
Joanne smiled at him, knitting her brows. Will was sure she had already been fatigued because of the sleep shortage she had because of him.
"Sure thing. Mom, spaghetti’s ready? I’m hungry."
In an instant, Joyce stood up and headed for the kitchen. "I-completely-forgot-to-put-on-water-for-the-pasta. Dinners in 15, girls," she shouted before she was gone.
"I can turn down the lights if you want?" Will offered sheepishly when Joanne sat on her bed, rubbing her eyes repetitively.
"What? No. You, okay?"
"Yeah. I guess," Will shrugged since it wasn’t him who sacrificed his sleep routine to make up after his younger sibling’s summer laziness.
"You really don’t have to take it; you know that, right?" Joanne seemed concerned, so maybe she wanted to keep her shirt after all.
"I know. I want it."
"No pressure."
Oh.
So, she probably noticed the look on his face when he kept trying to avoid his reflection in the mirror a minute earlier, when their mom was too preoccupied with that pasta water.
"I know," Will doubled down on his thought-pattern to abandon it a second later. Some things just had to be addressed aloud. "Just don’t want to worry mom, you know."
Joanne nodded since they both understood well enough the hidden message peeking behind from those simple words put together: neither of them could afford to complain about the current state of things as of today.
"Talking about clothes. I got something for you." Joanne grabbed her backpack, and a second later, Will was holding a familiar-looking article of clothing.
"That’s the shirt."
He remembered well the last time he got to Joanne’s work after she called home, as she had forgotten her keys. Since Will had a dentist appointment later that day, no one would be home around the time she’d be back. He promised her to drop them off on his way to the dentist’s office.
The shop was one of those places that opened earlier this year, so it still smelled brand new.
Waiting for his sister to come from the backroom of the store while she was having a lunch break, he was browsing through working clothes hanging on display, and one thing in particular grabbed his attention: the flannel shirt, which resembled the one he saw Kurt Cobain wearing in one of the MVs running on MTV earlier this year. He’s been trying to put his hands on that exact piece for the last few months in vain, since any of the thrift shops he visited this year seemed to have one.
"You liked it, right? It was on sale anyway, and my boss let me take it for an extra hour of work in exchange."
Will felt his eyes well up with tears, skimming over the material; it seemed soft to the touch, which was unlikely when you buy secondhand flannel shirts.
"That’s like way too expensive. I can’t take it. You save up for the car, that’s why Mom let you take a job in the first place. Not to buy me unnecessarily expensive stuff." Will put down the shirt with a heavy heart. He is gonna thrift a similar one soon, he hopes.
"I told you it was on sale anyway, and I wanted to stay anyway. I told you about that new guy who just started last week. He got his shift right after me, so I finally got a chance to introduce myself and-"
Will didn’t remember anything of the sort. But usually, he doesn’t pay much attention when people start to talk about that stuff.
"Just take it, okay?"
"You absolutely sure-sure?"
"Pretty positive, yes."
"It’s great. Like really great."
"Gonna look good with that band t-shirt we thrifted last week, right? You’ll rock that grunge style in no time. Like a mini-Kurt Cobain."
"Thanks. Really."
"Don’t mention it. Anyway, I’m gonna tell mom I changed my mind and want that shirt back, okay? There’s that shirt Aunt Marie sent Mom last week somewhere in the box, though; apparently, George has grown over the summer extensionally, and all those clothes she bought him before summer break are way too small for him now, that’s what I heard when they were talking over the phone at least; you should check it out."
"Thanks."
After Jon had gone to grab that first serving of spaghetti, Will tentatively approached the box Joyce left on his bed.
It was brimming with the mix of Joanne’s old clothes and some of his Mom’s old clothes she kept saying Will could take if he wanted. Having put his hand further, he encountered the small package Jon had mentioned earlier. She was right, and there it was, among other things, a male white shirt still with a tag price attached to it.
He took off Jon’s old shirt and put it on; it didn’t restrict his movements the same way the former shirt did, and at the same time, it seems to be fitting enough that Mom is not gonna complain that it looks too loose on him.
He smiled. He’s gonna take it as a win.