Chapter Text
May 5th, 1978
It was a nice, sunny day, much like most of the days had been recently in Hawkins, Indiana. Nonetheless, it was very enjoyable for eight year olds Will Byers and Mike Wheeler.
They were in first grade, and it was their favorite time of day: recess. Well, Mike's favorite at least. Will preferred the quiet time that they had once they went back inside.
Mike was an energetic kid, and if his parents had cared enough, he probably would've been diagnosed with ADHD. But they didn't, not really, so he was just 'disruptive' and 'loud'. Both of these things were true about him, but it would've been nice to at least have an excuse.
Mike didn't care about any of this, though. For the time being, he was sitting in the grass, watching all of the other kids play. He would've loved to join them, he longed to, actually. He would love to run over and join the group game of tag, or pretend to be pirates. But none of the other kids were as fun as his best friend anyway, and he'd rather sit here if it meant being with Will.
Will was the polar opposite to Mike, a shy little boy who really didn't talk at all, except to his mom, his brother Jonathan, and of course, Mike.
Ms. Byers cared quite a lot, and he had been diagnosed with Autism a while ago, but not before the two of them had become friends. That was too long ago for either of them to remember.
When they had playdates at Will's house, Will would be himself, would talk, and laugh, and play pretend. But in front of teachers or peers, or even Mike's parents, he talked little to none. Mike never understood how he did it; he couldn't even go ten full minutes without saying something.
The two of them were side by side in the grass like they always were: Mike sitting criss-cross, pulling weeds (he thought they were flowers) from the dirt, until the ground had a bald spot. Will was next to him, to the right (because that was his favorite side), laying on his stomach with his feet in the air, drawing in his sketchbook.
That was another thing that always blew Mike away: how good Will had always been at drawing. Mike's walls were filled with Will's drawings, and they always will be. Mike finished in his head.
Mike wanted to know what Will was drawing, but his head was tilted down and slightly to the right, away from Mike, so he couldn't see the page.
Will's hair was a little bit longer than most boys were, and it was straight and shiny, and Mike thought that it was really pretty. He smiled softly at the grass as he pulled it up.
He scooped up all of the "flowers" that he had picked into one hand, and tapped Will on the shoulder.
Will turned his head at the touch, confused. Mike usually talked to him while he drew, and Will listened. He would always listen to Mike. He could be very loud sometimes, but he noticed when he accidentally made Will jump, and would immediately lower his voice. That's why Will loved that he was his best friend.
When Will saw the weeds (he also thought they were flowers) in Mike's hand, his eyes lit up. Mike felt his chest swell with admiration when Will smiled at him.
"I picked these for you" he said, holding them out to Will. He glanced over Will's shoulder. "What'cha drawing?"
Will took them gratefully, and picked up his sketchbook, still holding his flowers in one hand, squashing them a tiny bit against the cover of it.
"You" he answered simply.
On the page was, in fact, a drawing of Mike.
"Wow" he breathed.
It was, in Mike's opinion, his best one yet. The drawing wasn't colored in, but Mike could tell that he was wearing his blue shirt - his favorite one. Of course Will knew what his favorite shirt was. His curly hair was spilling into his eyes, partially covering them, just like it was now as he was gawking over the drawing.
"Woah, Will, this is so good!" He exclaimed, brushing his fingers over the pencil lines, trying to be gentle.
Will was still smiling as he pulled the book back and flipped the page. "I was drawing you, but now I'm drawing that kid over there." He paused, pointing over to the playground. "It's easy, 'cuz he's just standing there."
Mike felt something like a pang of jealousy. Why would Will be drawing some random kid? He knew that it was incredibly selfish, but he couldn't help it. Will didn't like any other kids their age besides Mike, so it was just... weird when his attention wasn't on him.
"Which kid?" Mike asked, as the point had been vague, and there were lots of kids on the play structure. Everyone was running around, and he felt himself start to fidget. This happened every recess.
Will didn't look up. He just added a few more lines, then turned the book back towards Mike. "This one."
Although Will was fantastic at drawing, it wasn't super detailed. But apparently, it was enough, because Mike spotted the boy from the drawing pretty much right away.
"I've never seen him before" Mike observed.
Little did he know, but that's why Will was drawing him in the first place. Will smiled a little to himself, back to working. Mike could be so oblivious, but Will didn't mind, because he loved his best friend.