Chapter Text
Michelle Wheeler had always been the object of Willow Byers’ affection.
It had been this way since she was a little kid. When the two first met on the first day of kindergarten, Michelle had been the one who came up to Willow first, sitting next to her on the squeaky little swing-set in the far back of the playground. She looked over at Willow, her smile looking like a keyboard with the missing teeth. Her freckles splattered all over her face like someone took an airbrush machine and went crazy with it. She smiled and asked if Willow wanted to be her friend. Michelle’s curly pigtails shook with delight as Willow silently nodded yes.
It was the best thing that she’d done in her entire life.
Ever since then, the two had been inseparable. Not in a classic best-friends-since-childhood way - no, they were capital-I inseparable. And Willow loved it.
Fast forward to elementary school where they were spending almost every waking moment together. Biking over to each other’s house on the weekends, sitting on the couch pressed together reading comics, Willow drawing out little scenes while Michelle narrated her new DnD campaign ideas.
Willow never thought anything more of these things, and she was pretty sure Michelle didn’t either.
Sure, while there were some people who got a bit skeptical of their constant together-ness as they got older, the two of them brushed it off as over-bearing adults or pre-pubescent playground bullies.
As far as Willow was concerned, these were normal things that friends did. No, that best friends did. And Michelle and Willow were best friends. They had been since the day they met and had stayed the closest in their friendship when Daisy and Lucy joined.
Willow didn’t know what it was that drew her to Michelle so much. In her eyes, Michelle was probably the most beautiful person she’d ever laid eyes on. With her baggy cargo short and oversized t-shirts with terrible puns on them (like “Why do Paladins prefer chain armor? Because it’s hole-y armor!” ) Her choppy black hair never grew past the tips of her ears and it gave her this boy-ish charm that Willow thought was the reason she was so drawn to her. Obviously, you weren’t supposed to think about your best friend like that, especially if you were both girls.
Willow had lived with her step-dad Lonnie just long enough for him to ingrain this idea in her head.
When Lonnie turned on the radio on early Sunday mornings before breakfast he would always complain when the reporter started talking about the drag bars that were starting to pop up.
“Men don’t wear dresses and put on make-up,” he’d slur around his mug filled with vodka-laced coffee, “parading around like fucking pussies in this God-loving town!”
Every time he’d do this Willow would worriedly look up at him on the couch, scared it would turn into one of his regular tangents about the proper place of everyone in the world. How women were meant to be seen and not heard; their only purpose being to get pregnant and provide for their family.
Willow hated it when he said that. He didn’t think making art was a career ‘fit for a woman’. Hell, he didn’t even think making art was a career in the first place.
When he left them, Willow felt like something had released its grip on her neck and gave her voice back.
After a while, the two girls got older–as people usually do–and Michelle started changing. And Willow, much to her dismay, started noticing.
Michelle traded her faded band tees and the nerdy little glasses that made her look like one of Willow’s favorite musicians for baggy jeans and tight-fitting tops. In middle school Michelle had always been the tallest in the room and never seemed to be very confident in her body, like she didn’t quite know how to operate the thing yet. Her pale, lanky, freckled arms hung limply at her sides while she stood in front of the class for presentations or waited in line at the cafeteria. But now that the Party was in high school, Michelle seemed to figure herself out.
It terrified Willow.
She’d always justify what she’d grown to call a crush on Michelle because she looked like a boy with her pixie cut and ill-fitting clothes, but now that she’d let her hair grow out past her shoulders and started wearing earrings again.
She started becoming feminine.
Willow had been having sleepovers with Michelle almost every month, and this one wasn’t any different. Michelle suggested that they try to do each other’s make up as a joke. Michelle had never really been into that stuff even after starting high school, but Willow had taken an interest in graphic liner and sparkly eyeshadow. It was her way of putting her art into the world without actually putting it out there.
“Mich, I didn’t bring any of my make up over,” Willow said as she tried to ignore the pressing weight of Michelle’s knee resting on top of hers where they were sitting on Michelle’s bed.
“No, no, that’s okay.” Michelle smiled. “We can sneak down to my mom’s room.” She was already untangling herself from the mess they’d made on her bed while they were trying to craft the accessories for their Halloween costumes. “Or, better yet, we could steal Nancy’s!”
Willow furrowed her brow at the curly-haired girl standing in front of her. It was already past midnight, but Nancy probably wouldn’t be home from her date with Steve for another hour or so. Still, Willow didn’t want to get in her bad books, the people-pleaser that she is.
Michelle grabbed Willow’s wrist when she saw that she still hadn’t moved from her spot. “Come on, Wils,” She whined, dragging out the ‘on’, “She won’t even notice. It’ll be quick, I promise.”
Yeah right, nothing was ever as simple as that with Michelle Lilith Wheeler. Even so, Willow rolled her eyes and relented to her best friend’s pleading face. The sight of her toothy smile as she got up only set a slight flurry of butterflies off in her stomach.
Willow was not going to make it through the night.