Chapter Text
“Mike.”
Nancy elbows Mike in the ribs to get his attention.
“I’ve been calling you for like five minutes straight. Come on, they're landing soon, they’re getting off at the next gate.”
Mike perks up at the mention of his friends and allows himself to be dragged by the arm, almost dropping the flowers he got for El. He hasn’t seen or heard from Will or El much since they moved to Lenora. But for the first time, Hawkins has a better job opportunity for Joyce, which means that Will and El are going to finish their freshman year with the rest of the party.
They sit in the seating area closest to their gate. Mike’s leg nervously moves up and down, bouncing the bunch of blue flowers lying on his lap. He hastily throws glances at his watch and busies himself with his fingernail.
The airport is loud and busy, crowded with families rushing to get on their planes on time while also trying their best to deal with their whiny, hungry children and their state of exhaustion.
“Seriously, how long does it take to land a plane?” he scoffs and leans back in his seat.
“It’s like I brought Holly with me, but worse. I should've known you wouldn't be patient.” Nancy rolls her eyes.
Mike scowls and stares at Nancy, "That's not fair. You can’t compare me to a 6-year-old.”
“Oh yeah? Name one thing you’re better at than her.”
Mike stops and actually thinks. Holly is smart for her age and is surprisingly creative. He likes to think he rubbed off on her.
“I am.. responsible.” Mike huffs in a quick reply, feeling a sense of accomplishment.
To Mike's horror, Nancy practically cackles, throwing her head back in amusement.
“Mike, you've never been responsible a day in your life. You never do your homework, and you're basically late to school every day.”
Mike turns his head to send a retort in response when someone yells,
“Nancy! Over here!”
Jonathan calls to Nancy, hands waving as he runs up to the siblings. Nancy quickly stands up and meets him halfway. They embrace and share a quick kiss. Mike discreetly gags in mock disgust before waving 9 Jonathan.
“Hey Mike,” Jonathan nods his head, a sappy smile still tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Will, El, and Joyce follow behind Jonathan.
At the sight of Will, Mike involuntarily stands up, straightening his posture.
He meets them in the middle, flowers loosely hanging at his side. He meets Will first.
In Will's hand is a carefully rolled-up paper, a rubber band wrapped around it. He balances the paper between his fingers, standing there, face unreadable. Mike stops in front of Will, eyes wide and searching. His eyes linger on the rolled-up paper, recalling the letter from El.
A painting? For a girl he likes?
Will clears his throat abruptly, tilting his head slightly.
“Hi Mike?”
All consciousness slams into Mike as he realizes everyone had been staring at him, gazing into Will's eyes for longer than necessary.
“I, uh– hi, Will. It’s great to see you again.”
Mike shifts suddenly, unconscious of the fact that Will’s cheeks are now a slight shade of pink, and turns to El.
He lifts up the flowers that had been forgotten at his side, stems leaning down a touch. His cheeks go warm out of embarrassment, noticing how the flowers looked now. When he meets El’s eyes, he relaxes a bit.
She wears long, wavy hair and her usual kind eyes. She wraps her arms around Mike and smiles into his hair.
“Hi, Mike! I missed you!”
Mike pulls away a beat later.
“Hey. These are for you.” He sheepishly holds the flowers out to her.
El gratefully takes them, looking down at the tag attached to the stem.
“From, Mike.”
It doesn’t take long for Mike to be smushed into a hug by Joyce.
“Hey, Ms. Byers!” He laughs, hugging her back.
“Hi, Mike! We’re so glad to see you both! We all missed you. Will wouldn’t shut up about–“
Will clears his throat and narrows his eyes toward his mom, sending a warning stare. Joyce seems to have got the message as she closes her mouth to rearrange her words.
“We all couldn’t stop talking about coming back to Hawkins!”
She smiles sheepishly, and it is so very familiar that Mike feels a wave of nostalgia crawl into his chest.
They walk together to the car, talking excitedly about their plane ride home.
“Hurry!” Joyce calls over her shoulder, shielding her face from the rain pouring down.
They quickly get into the car in a bundle of elbows and knees, bumping to fit in the cramped seats.
Mike subconsciously squeezes himself into the space between El and Will, allowing himself to slightly lean on his side. Will shuffles his legs against the cold side of the car door, bringing as much distance as he can from Mike.
Mike leans over and opens his mouth to speak, but before he can get anything out, the car abruptly starts forward, causing him to bump fully to the left, knocking him directly into Will. Mike lets out an embarrassing gasp that sounds more like a squeak.
The force of Mike smashing into Will causes the rolled-up paper to fall out of his hand onto the car's ground.
“--Oh, sorry, uh.. the car,” Mike’s face warms as he picks himself up off Will and gestures to Nancy with a scowl on his face. “Can’t trust her to drive safely.”
Will’s face turns a shade darker, and Mike doesn’t know if it’s from the cold or something else.
“C’mon, Mike, she can’t be that bad,” Will says, adjusting himself away from Mike’s crushing body. A small smile creeps on his face, warm but shy.
“Whatever,” Mike says. Will reaches down and picks up the paper, trying to iron out the creases caused by the fall.
“So what’s that?” Mike's curious eyes narrow at the paper in Will’s hand. Maybe he’s imagining it, but he swears that Will’s hands tighten on the object in question.
“Oh, uhm… It’s nothing important. Just something I’ve been working on for a friend.”
Nothing important, my ass…
“Yeah, cool. Like, for who?” Mike tries not to push, but he feels the stubbornness beginning to build up inside him.
“It’s just… for a friend at school. You’ll probably meet her, unless Nance kills us on our drive there.” Will chuckles.
Her? El was right.
Mike tries to shake the idea of Will gifting a drawing to someone else, a girl. He has to think of something else before it starts to show on his face. Instead, he focuses on what Will said before.
“Wait, won’t your mom give you a ride?”
“Well, I mean, it might be easier to hitch a ride with Nance.” Will gestures to Jonathan and Joyce up front, “since we’re staying with you guys anyway, I mean.”
Mike pauses for a second, brows raising slightly.
Oh. I’m gonna be living with Will?
It’s something that would’ve had 12-year-old Mike jumping up and down, getting to live with his best friend. But now he feels... nervous? Excited too, but his stomach begins to stir just thinking about it.
He snaps out of it, before he allows himself a second thought about it. He’s realizing he probably looks stupid right now.
“... Oh, did my mom offer to let you guys stay over or something? I thought you guys were staying at the cabin.” He questions, turning his head slightly to glance at El, then back at Will.
When their eyes meet again, both Mike and Will give each other a small, tentative smile.
Mike forces himself to look out the window behind Will’s head, avoiding his eyes.
He watches the raindrops fall onto the glass, light at first, but they eventually get harder, coming down all at once. They hit the roof harshly, making the sound louder than any of their breaths.
Mike continues to look anywhere but at Will, anything to rid that weird feeling.
He can’t explain the feeling, but frankly, he doesn’t want to unpack it, much less acknowledge it.
“Yeah? Did you not know? I have to stay with Hop.” El says, coaxing Mike out of his sudden awareness.
Mike's eyebrows furrow, straining his memory for anything regarding the Byers staying at his house.
“No? I don’t think so. It’s not the first time people don’t tell me anything.” He dramatically sputters with an indignant huff. He slouches over El’s shoulder as she giggles, encouraging him and his theatrics.
Will's smile falters slightly– something nobody else in the car notices. He schools his face, quickly recovering. “...Yeah, well, we were promised the basement by your mom,” he comments.
The basement… The one special place where the party would hang out and play D&D for hours, before the summer of ‘85. Mike thinks this can be something to look forward to, now that they’re living together.
He wonders why Will hasn’t mentioned the opportunity to play D&D together though, considering Will wanted to play D&D all the time back then.
Did he get too cool for it while he was gone, in Lenora? Were the rest of us supposed to move on from D&D as well?
“You are lucky, I think the basement will be cool. It will be like a sleepover every day.” El pipes excitedly, before a frown appears on her face. “I have to stay in the cabin with Hop, though.”
“It’s okay, El, we’ll go visit you often. You know, I'll miss living in the same house as you.” With Will’s reassurance, El’s smile quickly replaces the expression she had before.
“Hey, El!” Jonathan calls out, “We're here.”
The car stops at an awkward angle, perched on the side of the cabin. Out on the steps stands Hopper with a warm smile and an umbrella. He waves hello to everyone in the car with his free hand.
El turns to Mike and Will.
“Bye, guys, I will see you at school tomorrow.” She steps out of the car with her flowers and backpack, while Jonathan helps take her duffel bag inside.
El hovers and plants a quick kiss against Mike’s mouth. She pulls away after a second.
Mike freezes. He doesn’t kiss back; he just lets it happen until it’s over. El notices this, she often does.
I was just caught off guard.
Mike wants to believe this, he really does.
“Bye, I love you,” El says, already turning away. She closes the door even before getting a response.
Would she even have gotten one if she waited?
“-I uh..” Mike responds to no one in particular.
The car starts up again, pulling out of its muddy spot.
Mike and Will both stay silent for a long minute.
Will clears his throat, “I’m glad you two are going to be able to hang out again.” His smile is hesitant but reassuring.
Mike turns to look at him. “Yeah. And maybe we can hang out more, too.”
He feels his face heat up, aware of his implication. “The party, I mean, just– yeah. We can all hang out, like old times. Maybe play some D&D? ”
He can feel himself rambling, trying to fill the empty silence.
“If you’re still interested, we do have a D&D club at our school. It’s called HellFire, it’s really cool. You should join us one of these days.”
Will looks up, “..Wow, traitor. Joining another party?” He chuckles lightly, but Mike can see the sincerity in his eyes.
“Yeah, but what if you want to join another party? … Not possible.”
The day Will left for California. The memory hits Mike square in the chest, nostalgia and a bittersweet feeling spreading throughout him.
“Oh. We got bored, I guess… The party wasn’t really... together while you were gone. Things changed a lot. It’s not the same without you. We missed you.”
Will turns to face Mike now.
“Really?”
“Yeah, we did. We really did.”
Mike takes notice of Will going silent, and he begins to worry he's said too much, but it’s not long before Will speaks up again.
“I missed you too... All you guys.”
They smile at each other, genuine and fond, a comfortable silence washing over them. For the first time in a year, the other’s presence seems almost enough for both of them.
Will looks like he’s about to say something when the car comes to a halt. Mike notices the familiar curve of the road and realizes they’re home already.
Home.
Maybe not home for Jonathan or Joyce, but the Wheelers’ house has always been somewhere for Will. Of course, Mike’s other friends were welcome, but Will held the title for the friend who spent the most time over. Including the many sleepovers they’d have, just the two.
Everyone begins to shuffle out of the car, carrying bags and suitcases into the house.
Mike grabs a pastel yellow bag and quickly scrambles to get inside before he freezes to death.
“Ow!” Mike yelps, bumping his toe on the door frame of the garage, nearly avoiding a sprinting Holly.
“Will!” Holly calls, almost tackling him with the force of her embrace. She only reaches his hip.
Will chuckles while ruffling her hair with his free hand, careful not to drop his bag.
“Haha… Hey Holly! Careful, don't slip!”
“Come on, let's go inside!” Holly drags him by the hand, pulling him into the house.
Following behind him, Joyce hoists a box onto her hip with one hand. She joins them inside, setting the box down.
Karen meets them at the door, greeting Joyce with a quick side hug. “Hey, welcome back, guys!” She exclaims, giving a soft smile to Jonathan and Will. “So, Will, are you excited to go back to school with your friends? I’m sure Mike will be able to improve in school now that you’re here. You’re a smart boy.”
Mike’s neck snaps to his mom in offense. Will is smart, but Mike isn’t too fond of the idea of needing help. But then again, it’s Will, the only person Mike would actually trust for help.
“Yeah, and while you’re at it, might as well help Jason. His mom has been complaining about his grades a ton lately, looks like he could use all the help he could get.” Joyce contributes.
Will visibly flusters at the casual praise.
Jason? The jock?
Joyce isn't known for having much company. Mike knows this, considering he hasn’t met any of Joyce’s friends or family. For all he knows, they would never come over, not even during the holidays.
He knows from Will that her parents got a divorce when she was young, but that’s about it. He’s noticed that Joyce tends to stick with Hopper and the rest of the party’s parents.
So the idea of her knowing and outwardly speaking to someone new, let alone Jason’s mom, confuses him.
Maybe she’s talking about a different Jason, it’s a pretty common name.
But the moment he begins to open his mouth to ask about it, Mike gets a box full of Will’s art supplies shoved into his arms.
“Hey, Mike, take this downstairs to the basement, would you?” Nancy quickly speaks to him as she works on moving more of the Byers’ belongings inside.
He scowls, beginning to complain. “Why me? I already brought in like, two boxes–”
He’s cut off by Nancy’s irritated tone as she grunts, picking up another box. “Go. Please, and thank you.”
Mike groans but does as he’s told. He thumps down the steps to the basement and places the heavy box on the table, the same one the party would play D&D on.
The box was full and had colorful stains on the outside. Sticking out of the corner of the box was a brown, thin paintbrush. He pulls it out and twirls it between his fingers.
"Nothing important."
The words bounce around his head, trying to grasp the neutral way Will simply said it. He used to tell Mike everything.
Did things really change?
Mike tries to think of a reason why Will wouldn’t just tell him. Why did he have to learn about his best friend second-hand, from El?
“Oh.. El.” Mike whispers to the empty basement.
He puts the paintbrush into the box and closes it.
He searches for a walkie-talkie that he knows he had left downstairs in the basement earlier that morning, and quickly finds it.
He clears his throat as he switches to the right channel and pushes the button to speak.
“.. Hey, El? Are you there? Over.”
There’s radio silence for a few seconds, and Mike starts to think that maybe she has fallen asleep already.
Just as he is going to put the walkie-talkie down, he hears a noise from it, and then the comfort of El’s voice. “Yes, I am here. Over.”
“Oh,” Mike chuckles a little. “I thought you were sleeping for a second.”
He can hear her smile through the device. “No, I am putting up all of the drawings that Will made me while we were in California on my wall. Hop is helping me…”
Will’s drawings. Is he making things for everyone but me? Why didn’t I get anything?
Mike hears mumbling on the other end of the walkie for a moment until El’s voice comes back. “... I told Hop to say hi, but he did not want to, so I will say it for him. Hi.”
Mike realizes he probably shouldn’t be overthinking about his friendship with his best friend over a stupid reason while his girlfriend is talking to him.
Maybe he just hasn’t made me one because I already have tons of his drawings that I kept.
“Hey,” He responds, “So, you excited for tomorrow?”
He tries to make the sudden topic change sound casual, and it works in his favor as El continues to talk.
“Yes, I am. I am excited to see our friends. Writing letters and seeing them is not the same, so I am happy.”
“Yeah, we all tried sending letters when we had time.”
“I have many from our friends. Max and Dustin sent me a lot.”
Mike, unfortunately, remembers how close Max and El are, especially how annoying they were during the summer of 85’. He didn’t recall Dustin and El being super close; in fact, he had no idea that the two were close enough to be sending each other a bunch of letters now. The whole party was friends, sure, but he never saw that duo as commonly.
“Yeah, that’s nice, so did you like my letters?” Mike doesn’t know why he asked that. Of course, El liked his letters, he’s her boyfriend.
El takes a second to respond, choosing her words carefully.
“Yes, I did. We both did.”
We?
It takes Mike a moment to shrug off the confusion. When he finally opens his mouth to talk, El cuts him off.
“Will and I loved the letters, he never showed me his, though. He seemed very happy with them and he was always laughing.”
A silence washes over them.
“Wait, I never sent Will any letters.”
Who was sending Will letters? Who was making him laugh?
“Oh. I wonder who they were from then. I think he kept them.”
“Yeah, I wonder too.” Mike’s jaw clenches– concentrated in a distant memory.
El breaks the silence once more, “Well, I am sure Will would have liked letters from you.”
Mike grimaces. He doesn’t know what to say, but suddenly he feels guilty.
“I uh, I did call. But looks like he didn’t wanna talk anyways.. didn’t answer.”
Mike muttered the last words, almost incoherent, but El caught them.
“What? You called him?” El asks with surprise.
Mike scoffs, “I mean, yeah, I tried to, but he never answered. No one did.”
“The phone is always busy. Joyce had a new job. She says she needs the phone all the time.”
Mike's brows furrow hearing El’s response.
Did Will not answer because he didn’t want to or because he couldn’t?
“Oh, so the line was busy the entire time?”
“Yes,” El says, a little amused to hear Mike's mood brighten slightly.
“I thought he didn’t want to talk or something. I just thought– never mind.”
El slowly drags out her words. “It is okay, Mike. Talk to him now that he is with you.”
Suddenly, “Mike!”
Mike is pulled out of his daze and perks up at his name.
“I’ll talk to you later, El. I have to go.”
“Okay, bye. I l– I will see you tomorrow.” El’s lips make a straight line as she turns off her walkie, not waiting for Mike to say bye.
“Michael!” Karen yells for the third time from above the stairs.
“Coming! I said I’m coming! Jesus…” Mike powers off his walkie, tossing it on the couch.
He passes the box of art supplies- disregarded on the old D&D table. He lingers for a few seconds before ripping his eyes away and making his way up the stairs.
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩
Mike slumps down on the couch, a bead of sweat slips from his forehead.
“Maybe if you joined a sport instead of that demon cult, you wouldn’t be winded after bringing in a couple of boxes.”
Ted Wheeler sits on his lounging sofa, looking over his newspaper at Mike. Ted is more irritable than usual- not too fond of the idea of the Byers crashing at his place.
“Like you can talk. You’re always on your ass. Plus, it’s called Hellfire.”
“Michael!” Karen scolds her son from across the room.
Mike shrugs and walks over to the kitchen.
“Nice one, Karen, way to discipline your son. See how he treats me, and I still keep a roof over his head, and apparently another family now too.” Ted mutters uninterested, never taking his eyes off the page.
Karen rolls her eyes and puts her hands on her hips.
“Ignore him, Joyce. We are very happy to have you guys here.” She gives her a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
Joyce sends a smile in return, brows slightly knitted at Ted’s words.
The silence in the room is broken by the sound of Jonathan's voice.
“Thanks anyway, Mrs. Wheeler. Why don’t I make dinner for us all? I figured I'd help with the food in return for you guys letting us stay over. I learned how to make really good pasta during the first week that we arrived at Lenora.”
“Aw, isn’t that nice! Thank you, that sounds wonderful. I mean, if you’re not too tired, of course. It’s been a long day for you guys,” Karen responded.
“Not at all! I’m sure you guys will like it, it’s called ‘Pasta primavera’.”
Karen smiles, a hint of surprise on her face. “Oh! I’ve actually made that before, let me see if we have what we need.”
She walks into the kitchen, scouring for the ingredients– Jonathan at her heel. Mike watches them, lazily sucking on a red ice pop. Out of his peripheral vision, he spots Will drawing at the kitchen table, looking mostly absorbed in his notebook, but there’s something else. Something Mike can’t decipher.
He brushes it off, realizing the ice pop has just been sitting in his mouth for at least ten seconds.
Jonathan lets out a sigh before turning to his brother. “Hey, Will, could you go to the store real quick and pick up some pasta? They don’t have any.”
Will looks up from the kitchen table, pencil pausing on his paper.
“Uh, sure. I can go to Melvald’s, they have the packaged pasta there, I think.”
“That would be great, Will, but I don’t want you going alone in the rain! You know what, Mike? Why don’t you go with Will? Keep him company, yeah?” Karen looks at him with pleading eyes.
Mike turns to his mom, feeling worried.
What if being alone gets awkward?
“Uh– Yeah, sure. I’ll get my jacket.”
Leaving his leftover ice pop on the counter, Mike walks over to the door and lifts his jacket off its hook.
“Seriously, Mike?! Are you just going to leave your trash here? Only you eat a popsicle in this weather.” Nancy scowls and walks over to clean up after her brother.
Mike rolls his eyes, “I was going to throw it away right now.” A drop of red juice slides along his chin before he wipes it with his sleeve.
“Stop lying, you know you weren’t–” Nancy retorts.
“Stop fighting, you two, please. Now, Mike, go to the store with Will and bring back the pasta for dinner. Be quick.” Karen interrupts her.
“Whatever,” Mike mutters as he opens the door and glances toward Will. He stands up and joins Mike by the door, awkwardly waving goodbye to everyone before stepping out.
The weather in Hawkins is unforgiving this time of the year, the rain never stopping for more than a few hours. Mike grabs an umbrella before closing the house door behind him. He joins Will on the sidewalk, matching his stride. Will wears a sweatshirt with a tiger on it. It’s one of the Hawkins High basketball team sweatshirts.
Is Will going to join basketball?
Mike peels his eyes off of Will and moves closer. He busies himself with unfolding the umbrella and puts it over his head.
“Uhm.. Do you want to..” He gestures to the umbrella and back to Will.
“Oh– Yeah, thanks.” Will squeezes himself into the small space. The proximity allows the body heat to warm them up slightly, but that also leads to…
“Sorry,” Will says suddenly, pulling his elbow away from where it met Mike's.
“That’s okay.” Mike looks for something else to add, but nothing comes to mind.
Sorry? Since they were kids, neither of them had issues with physical touch. In fact, they were often very clingy– hugging and holding hands were regular. This even continued after the recess when Will came crying to Mike after a bad fight with his dad. Lonnie never liked Mike much, more specifically when he was with Will. That day was the first time Mike ever heard the word…
“Faggot. He called me a faggot. Why does everyone call me that?” Young Will said to him through tears.
This memory would never leave Mike, the pain on Will’s face forever burned into his young brain.
He remembers feeling so angry at Lonnie, he never understood why he would visit Will to just make things worse for him. Never understood why the other boys at school would call Will those nasty names, especially why his own father did the same.
Never understood why Lonnie was still even considered Will’s father.
Lucas and Dustin would often help Mike defend Will when he was picked on. They were all bullied, but Will would be targeted most by kids who believed he was queer.
It bothered Mike most that Troy and his friend had mocked Will after his disappearance, claiming that the reason he’d been killed was that he was “gay”.
That was the first time he had actually fought back. Mike pushed Troy. He didn’t understand why he did it; it happened so fast, and the only thing he could focus on was the anger he felt.
How could someone hate Will? They don’t even know him.
But then again, maybe Mike doesn’t really know him much anymore either.
The last time he felt like he truly knew him was back when El had disappeared, after Will was saved from the upside down.
Maybe Will just grew up… boys at their age aren’t so touchy anyway, they say it’s gross. Maybe it’s Mike’s turn to grow up. He has to stop thinking about this, he needs to talk about something else.
But the only thing his head is providing is the painting. That’s the only other thing he’s been able to think about since Will got here.
Who was it for? Is it for the girl he likes? Why did he brush it off when I asked about it in the car?
He looks straight ahead, avoiding eye contact, not different from Will, who has been looking down ever since their elbows bumped.
Mike is the first to break the silence.
“So, now that you’re back, are you looking to join any clubs.. or sports?” He suddenly asks.
Still staring at the ground, Will responds with a tone of confusion at the unexpected question. “Uhh, I don’t really know–”
“I mean, you could always join Hellfire. It would be cool having you there, playing D&D with us like we used to.”
“I don’t know, maybe. I was actually thinking of joining the art club, but I'm sure I can do two clubs at once.” Will looks at somewhere above Mike’s head, as if he’s purposefully avoiding looking him in the eye.
“Art club sounds nice. You can finally show off your drawings… or your paintings.” Mike suggests.
Will just nods his head, focused on crossing the street.
“...So I saw your box of brushes. Did you paint a lot over in Lenora?” Mike asks, breaking the silence once more.
“Yeah, I did.”
“El mentioned that you were working on one for a while.” Mike knows he shouldn’t push, but he can’t help himself. The answer is so close.
“Mhm. I made one for my friend. I missed her birthday while in Lenora, so I thought I’d gift her something.”
“This friend... What’s her name?” Mike is beyond caring how weird he sounds, how desperate he is to solve the unanswered questions lingering in his head.
“Her name’s Chrissy.”
Chrissy? I don’t remember a Chrissy.
“Are you guys--”
“We should probably head inside…” Will suddenly interrupts as he speeds up, leaving Mike alone under the umbrella. He goes up to the entrance of Melvalds and holds open the door for an elderly woman who is trying to enter. Mike tries to cover his disappointment and folds the umbrella, walking in while Will holds the door for him.
Melvalds has that familiar scent of newspaper and old cigarettes. They quickly locate the pasta and walk around for anything else they might need. Will picks up a lollipop for Holly, and they get in line to pay.
“That’ll be a dollar and twenty-five cents, please.” The cashier sighs tiredly.
Will nods and goes to grab his wallet.
“Here.” Mike passes the exact change over the counter and receives an unimpressed look from the cashier.
“O-kay?” The cashier says, passing over their purchase.
Will looks over to Mike as they walk out,
“You really didn’t have to pay, you know.”
“It’s fine, it’s my house anyway.” Mike lets the umbrella hang loosely at his side, no longer needing it as the rain falters.
They walk home in silence, the energy from the previous conversation dies out with the cessation of the rain.
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩
Mike shrugs off his jacket at the entrance of the house, immediately kicking off his muddy Converse.
Will follows shortly behind, carrying the small bag containing the pasta and the lollipop.
“Holly! I have something for you.” Will shouts up the stairs.
Holly comes down, skipping two steps in her rush. She reaches Will and bounces in her childish excitement.
“Here you go, I got you a lollipop.” He takes out the lollipop from the bag.
“What do you say, Holly?” Mrs. Wheeler prompts with a smile.
“Thank you!” Holly squeals as she skips off.
“Thank you so much, Will.” Mrs. Wheeler says as she crosses the room, taking the bag into her hands.
“I helped too, you know.” Mike is already halfway up the stairs.
“That’s a shocker.” Mr. Wheeler sits in the same chair as before, watching a game show.
Will smiles warmly and walks into the kitchen to help out his Mom on setting up the table as Jonathan and Mrs. Wheeler prepare dinner together.
As Mike walks upstairs, he passes Nancy.
“What’s with your face?”
“Huh? Nothing is wrong with my face.” He grits out.
“Okay, yeah, sure. Nothing whatsoever.” Nancy rolls her eyes and heads downstairs.
Mike sighs and enters the bathroom. He locks the door behind him, leaning against the sink’s counter. He looks up into the mirror.
Jesus. Nancy’s right.
His face is tense, eyebrows pinched, and jaw tight. Mike lets out a groan and turns the sink's knobs, letting the cool water soothe his clammy hands. The water comes as a shock when it makes contact with his face, the chilling sensation washing away his nerves.
Grabbing a towel, he slowly dries his face and shakes his head for good measure. Slowly, he exits the bathroom and heads to his room.
Why does it matter to me so much? It shouldn’t. It doesn’t mean anything.
He needs a distraction. Sighing as he enters his room, he collapses onto his bed, exhausted.
For the first time in his life, Mike lies down and thinks.
Why won’t he tell me anything? I’m supposed to be his best friend.
He tosses and turns, trying to find comfort as his mind fills with unnecessary thoughts. Will seems so collected compared to Mike. He hasn’t found the reason he’s feeling like this. It's like he's trying to solve a puzzle with a missing piece.
He puts his palms over his eyes and rubs harshly, hoping this would somehow give him clarity. Instead, it makes him even more tired. He turns onto his side and closes his eyes, not bothering to take off his jeans.
Five minutes later, there's a knock at the door.
“Hello? Mike?” Will pokes his head in and observes the boy in front of him.
Mike’s face, slightly disheveled by sleep, perks up.
“Huh? What?” Through his sleepy eyes, Mike can see Will standing at the door, body twisted so he’s not completely in the room.
“Dinner’s ready, your mom told me to come get you.”
When we were younger, you never had to be told.
“I– okay. I'll be down in a bit.”
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩
Mike makes his fashionably late appearance at the dinner table, hair a mess and clothes rumpled. He sits down next to Nancy, avoiding her clear judgment. But most of all, he avoids Will’s questioning eyes because if he doesn’t, he risks speaking all his thoughts into existence.
They have small conversations about California and their plans for the upcoming weeks. Mike quietly picks at his food, never really eating it but pushing it around his plate.
“Do you not like it, Mike?” Jonathan asks from a seat to the left.
Nancy kicks Mike under the table.
“Uh, no, it's good. It's really good, I’m just.. not too hungry.”
Jonathan looks somewhat satisfied with this answer, the topic easily shifting.
Mike sighs and looks up, and accidentally meets Will’s eyes that are already staring back. Will’s brows are knitted softly together; his gentle green eyes have a thousand questions, almost enough for Mike to say everything. Instead, he quickly looks away, missing the deepening frown on Will’s face.
I need to get out.
Mike quickly finishes his dinner and excuses himself, reasoning that he is tired.
He retreats into his room again, not looking at anyone as he leaves. He doesn’t sleep, his head full of questions about a painting.