same story? not quite. sidelined 2: intercepted picks up where it all left off. love, loyalty, and a little bit of chaos. but this time, the game’s bigger. new faces, tougher choices, and a whole new field. Compare the old to the new, and see how far they’ve come. see you this thanksgiving.
When someone has no idea what an AI girlfriend even is, I keep it simple: you design a companion, and then you can talk, call, and share moments with her like she's real. SweetDream makes that whole idea easy to grasp by just doing it well.
The reason the explanation lands is the quality behind it. You see the natural chat, hear the warm voice, look at the beautiful photos, and it clicks. sweetdream.ai is the easiest way to understand the appeal firsthand.
Aw, man! Don’t you just love it when WoC characters get sidelined, assumably, for the same storylines (robby’s depression) to be repeated in yet another season revolving around the white characters! Season 3 about to be a whole lot of fucking NOTHINGBURGER.
Mike and Will used to be inseparable. Best friends. Then Will moved away without warning.
Now he’s back in Hawkins… and he’s different... and everything Mike isn’t: popular, charming, athletic, and adored by everyone.
Mike can’t stand him.
But thanks to a very unfair Mr. Clarke, they’re stuck together on a senior project. One project. Two ex-best friends. And somehow, they’re both about to survive the most complicated semester of their lives.
Or: the forced-proximity, enemies-to-lovers Byler fic no one asked for.
Rating: Mature (eventually will be changed to Explicit)
AO3 - Tumblr
a/n: This chapter was a fun time, ie the memory of writing it is a blur, but I'm happy with the end result. Hope you enjoy :)
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Read Chapter One here.
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Chapter Eight
Wednesday March 22, 1989
Mike sat in the driver’s seat of his car with the engine off, his hands resting loosely on the steering wheel. Through the windshield, the water of Lover’s Lake stretched out past the tree line, the surface shining under the late afternoon sky. The sun had already begun its slow dip down from its peak, angling low enough that the light came in at a soft slant. It stretched across the surface of the lake, catching on the small ripples and turning the water into a shifting sheet of gold and pale silver.
The place was quiet in that empty school is in session kind of way. A light, warm spring breeze moved through the trees overhead, branches rustling softly and sending occasional shadows flickering across the hood of his car. When the wind shifted, it carried the faint smell of damp earth and lake water through the small crack in his window.
Mike shifted slightly in his seat, his sneaker tapping once against the floor of the car before going still again.
The dashboard clock read 3:15 PM. Almost an hour since school let out.
He stared out at the lake, watching the ripples move lazily across the surface, and wondered, not for the first time since pulling into the gravel lot, why the hell he was even there?
His knee bounced nervously as he leaned back in the seat. The dashboard clock ticked forward with quiet little clicks that seemed way louder than they should have been.
Because the truth was, Mike had no idea what he and Will were doing anymore.
They certainly weren’t dating. They weren’t even… friends, not the way they used to be. If Mike had to label it, the most accurate description was probably making out buddies, which sounded stupid the moment he thought it. But that was basically what they’d become.
And Mike had no idea how to act around Will Byers because of it.
Especially not when they hadn’t talked about it. Not really, not at all. The past week had felt like floating on some weird euphoric high where neither of them said anything out loud. They’d existed in this strange quiet orbit around each other, tense stolen glances across the cafeteria, shoulders brushing in the hallway, the occasional touch that lingered just a little longer than it needed to.
Touching had become… allowed. Not a big thing. Just something that had happened. And Mike didn’t hate it. Actually, he liked it way too much.
That was the problem.
Because once you said something out loud, once you put words to it, it stopped being this weird, safe bubble they’d been living in. It became real. Vulnerable. Dangerous.
And Mike had spent the last week deliberately not thinking about that. He’d turned his brain off. Which had been working pretty well.
Until today.
Mike groaned quietly and dragged a hand down his face.
Because of course Will had chosen today to change their dynamic, to throw off the carefully choreographed rhythm they’d fallen into. Practice, Hellfire, arguing over their damn senior project… and then making out in the parking lot by Mike’s car.
Mike thought about the little package of Reese’s Pieces that had sat on the passenger seat just the day before. The memory made his stomach twist.
It was Will’s birthday.
Mike had stood in the gas station, the one his father always told him never to go to because their gas was cheap and most certainly cut with something that would fuck up his car, for almost ten minutes staring at the candy aisle before grabbing them. It had felt stupidly small for a birthday gift, but it had also felt… right. Dumb and casual. Something Mike could give him without making things awkward.
Except the moment he’d handed them over, Mike had started second-guessing himself.
Had it been too small? Too much? Too weird? Too… pointed? Had they been a stupid reminder that Mike used to know Will, but clearly didn’t anymore?
Now he was stuck in a parking spot by Lover’s Lake spiraling about it.
Because why the hell had Will wanted to meet here?
On his birthday, of all days.
Mike shifted in his seat and glanced at the empty road behind him again, like Will’s truck might magically appear if he checked enough times.
Will had given him absolutely zero clues. The memory replayed in Mike’s head again.
“Meet me at Lovers Lake tomorrow after school.”
After Mike had nodded immediately, trying to act casual even though his heart had kicked up.
“Yeah, fine.”
“Good,” Will had said. That alone had made Mike blink.
And before Mike could ask why, or what they’d be doing, Will had already opened the door.
“I’ll see you then, Mike.” he’d added, stepping out of the car.
And that was it.
No explanation.
Will had closed the door, walked across the parking lot, climbed into his truck, and driven away like inviting your sworn nemesis/make-out buddy to Lover’s Lake on your birthday was a completely normal, self-explanatory thing.
Mike huffed under his breath now, staring at the lake again.
The cynical part of his brain kept whispering the worst possibilities. Will was popular now. Not just a little popular, Hawkins High golden boy popular. The star runner. Teachers loved him. Half the school seemed to orbit around him the way people used to orbit around Steve Harrington.
And for the better part of two years after coming back to Hawkins, Will had hated Mike. And Mike had hated Will. Not quietly either.
So yeah, part of Mike’s brain kept suggesting the worst-case scenario…. Maybe this whole thing was some massive prank.
Some elaborate setup where Mike would show up at Lover’s Lake like an idiot and suddenly half the school would appear out of the woods laughing while Will stood there pretending none of it had meant anything.
Humiliate Mike Wheeler in one big spectacular moment. The thought made his stomach twist hard.
But even as the idea formed, Mike knew it didn’t actually make sense.
Will hated bullies.
More than anyone Mike knew. There was no way he’d become one himself. Actually, if anything, the opposite had happened. Since Will had come back to Hawkins, bullying had dropped off a cliff.
Seriously. Gone were the days when Mike and Dustin got cornered in the hallway and interrogated about their supposed involvement in satanic Hellfire Club rituals.
Will and Lucas had shut that kind of thing down fast, usually when it was aimed at Dustin.
Mike had seen it happen first during their junior year, right after the soccer team had brought home their championship banner and the school had been riding that high for weeks. The hallways had been packed with athletes in their jackets, teachers smiling a little too proudly, everyone acting like Hawkins High had just won the Super Bowl instead of a regional title.
Some sophomore from the soccer team had gotten a little too comfortable with the attention.
Mike had been standing by Dustin’s locker when the kid started mouthing off, loud enough for the nearby crowd to hear.
“You guys are still keeping up that freak cult thing? Munson really did a number on you two.” the kid had said with a look of contempt. “I can’t believe the teachers let you two recruit for that devil worship club.”
Dustin had rolled his eyes immediately, already gearing up to argue back, but he hadn’t gotten the chance. Will had been leaning against the lockers a few feet away, still wearing his new track jacket from practice. Mike remembered the way Will straightened slightly when he heard it.
Then Will looked at the kid. It wasn’t an angry look. If anything, it was almost too calm. His expression had gone still, his eyes steady in a way that made the hallway feel a little quieter all at once. Mostly, he just looked… disappointed.
“I’ve played DnD, Todd,” Will had said evenly. “It’s not satanic. It’s a fantasy game.”
That was it. Todd had flushed red almost immediately under the attention, muttered something under his breath, and backed off without another word.
So, maybe Will humiliating him in public didn’t track. Not really.
That didn’t mean everything between them had magically become civil.
Mike snorted softly.
If anything, the two of them had probably been the least civil people in Hawkins for a while there. They couldn’t even be in the same room without snapping at each other. It had mostly been words, though. Dirty looks. Passive-aggressive bullshit. Never anything physical or actually harmful. Which made what had happened this past week feel even stranger.
Mike’s fingers tightened slightly around the steering wheel as the awareness pushed its way back into his head. The first time Will had kissed him hadn’t been planned. It definitely hadn’t been discussed. No conversation. No awkward follow-up.
A week later they were… this. Make out buddies, with Mike sitting alone in his car at Lover’s Lake, waiting for Will like it was the most normal thing in the world.
He exhaled slowly and leaned his head back against the seat.
At best, Mike figured tonight might lead to something more. Why else would Will invite him to Lover’s Lake?
People didn’t exactly come out here for casual conversation. And Will was definitely skipping a track meet to be here. Mike knew that for a fact, and Will never missed them. Which meant whatever this was probably wasn’t about hanging out with Mike because of Mike’s sparkling personality.
Maybe Will had heard the rumors that Mike had a big dick.
Mike huffed out a quiet laugh at that and rubbed the back of his neck, staring back out over the water.
His thoughts drifted somewhere he’d been trying very hard not to let them go.
Because it wouldn’t be his first time fooling around.
The thought settled in his chest in a strange, grounding way. If this really was what Mike thought it might be, if Will had brought him all the way out here for that, then at least Mike wouldn’t completely embarrass himself. He wouldn’t be clueless. He wouldn’t freeze up like some awkward idiot who had no idea what he was doing, like he had his first time.
Mike shifted in his seat again, the leather creaking softly under his weight.
His elbow bumped lightly against the center console, and his eyes flicked toward it for half a second. The small compartment was still closed, but he knew exactly what was inside. He’d checked before leaving the house, just in case.
The condoms he’d bought at the gas station, and that stupid little tub of Vaseline.
Just in case.
Mike quickly looked back out at the lake, rubbing the back of his neck as a faint warmth crept up the back of it. The whole thing felt ridiculous now that he was actually sitting here, waiting.
But then another thought pushed its way in.
The one he’d been trying to avoid entirely.
The one that had been lurking in the back of his brain every time he let himself think about what might happen tonight.
What about Will?
Mike frowned slightly, staring at the treeline across the lake.
Had Will done this before?
Mike could only assume he had.
He wasn’t stupid. Will was popular enough to score just about anyone he wanted. The guy was basically Hawkins High’s most eligible bachelor. Girls liked him. Guys too, probably.
There was no way Will Byers was a virgin.
Will was hot in that effortless way that didn’t seem fair. Tall, athletic from track, messy hair that somehow always looked good no matter what he did with it.
And his smile… Mike swallowed slightly. Will had a smile and lips that made a guy want to drop everything, grab his face, and kiss him stupid.
Mike knew that from experience.
Which meant there was no way Mike was the only one who had ever thought about it. No way he was the only one who had actually gotten the chance to… act on it.
But the thought of Will with someone else, some other guy, either here in Hawkins or back in Lenora, made something hot and unpleasant twist in Mike’s chest.
It pissed him off.
The irritation crept up fast, familiar and sharp.
Mike stared harder at the lake as the idea built in his head: Will laughing with some random guy, leaning against him the same way he sometimes leaned against Mike now. Maybe sneaking off somewhere quiet.
Maybe kissing them.
Maybe more.
And the worst part was the timing of it.
Because if Will had been doing that… it meant he’d been doing it during the time when Mike had been losing his mind wondering what the hell had happened between them.
Wondering why he hadn’t gotten a letter.
Wondering why he hadn’t gotten a call.
Mike’s jaw tightened.
That time had been miserable. And the idea that Will might’ve been off somewhere getting cozy with some random dude while Mike was stuck in Hawkins replaying every stupid conversation they’d ever had—
Yeah.
That didn’t sit right.
Mike shifted again, his hand tightening around the steering wheel as the irritation started building enough that he briefly considered just starting the car and leaving.
Before the thought could fully settle…
Knock-knock.
The sudden sound on the glass made Mike jump. He turned his head sharply.
Will stood outside the passenger side window, one hand resting lightly against the roof of the car. The late afternoon sun hung low behind him, outlining his hair in a faint gold glow.
Will was watching him through the glass, and there was the faintest tug at the corner of his lips, half smile, half confusion. He looked like he’d been standing there long enough to catch whatever ridiculous, overthinking expression Mike had just been making.
Mike’s chest thudded, and he realized he’d been holding his breath.
He unlocked the car.
Will swung the door open and slid into the passenger seat. His hair was slightly damp, sticking just a little at the nape of his neck, and his jacket shifted as he settled in, the faint scent of soap and shampoo drifting toward Mike.
As if reading Mike’s expression, Will said, “I had to go to the home meet today. Coach wouldn’t let me skip it.” He gave a small shrug, like that explained everything. “but I managed to sneak out early, most of my races are usually in the first hour anyway. That’s why I’m late. Sorry.”
Mike glanced at the dashboard. Four o’clock. Almost two hours late.
“You waited?” Will said, raising an eyebrow, a playful note in his tone.
Mike shrugged, trying to act like it hadn’t mattered. “I… lost track of time.”
Will snorted. “Yeah, I noticed.” The teasing was soft, not harsh. It made Mike bite back a grin.
“So… what were you thinking about?” Will asked, tilting his head slightly. His eyes were sharp, curious, and that look made Mike’s stomach knot again.
Mike’s gaze flicked briefly to the center console, where the condoms and small jar of Vaseline were still tucked away. He swallowed. “Nothing important.”
Will hummed, clearly unconvinced, but didn’t press further.
Mike cleared his throat. “So… what’s the plan?”
Will leaned back, stretching his arms over the back of the seat. “You’ll see,” he said, a hint of mischief in his voice. “Come on. Follow me.”
Mike got out of the car, and Will led the way across the gravel lot to his truck. He moved with that effortless ease Mike had noticed he had since moving back from California: shoulders straight, hands relaxed, the faint sway in his step that made everything about him seem natural and confident.
Mike bit his lip as he followed. He couldn’t help it, Will looked good. Really good. That clean, freshly showered look combined with the low afternoon sun made him… dangerous to Mike’s sense of self-control.
“Hop in,” Will said, and Mike climbed into the passenger seat.
The cab smelled distinctly of Will. The familiar faint scent, soap, detergent, a trace of something musky from him, hit Mike like a wave. It reminded him of Will’s old bedroom, the way it had smelled growing up, safe and familiar. That memory tugged hard at Mike’s chest, a bittersweet mix of nostalgia and longing. He brushed it aside, chalking it up to his brain clinging to childhood memories.
Will started the truck. “I know a spot near the lake,” he said, “but it’s on the other side. It’s a bit of a drive, a few dirt roads. You can pick a cassette.”
Mike reached over, rifling through the small stack of tapes in the console, and grabbed one labeled Oldies.
Will’s grin widened. “Oh, you won’t like that one.”
Mike frowned. “Why not?”
Will laughed, the sound light. “It’s a tape I made a while ago. Full of old country songs my mom loves. She used to play them around the house whenever she cleaned.”
Mike raised an eyebrow. “You like country?”
Will shrugged, cheeks pinking slightly. “Just play it. It’s not that bad, you’ll see.”
Mike smirked and popped the tape into the player, pressing play. He started fast-forwarding, trying to find the songs he recognized.
Hey Good Lookin’ by Hank Williams. Make the World Go Away by Mickey Gilley. Mike knew a few of these, they were old, slow, sentimental or cheesy in the way country always was, but a few, he didn’t recognize at all.
He fast forwarded again, stopping at the start of a song, Crazy by Willie Nelson, and Will suddenly stopped him.
“That one’s mom’s favorite,” Will said quickly, a soft grin forming. “She used to sing it all the time.”
Before Mike could respond, Will began singing along, a little over-the-top, dramatic.
I’m crazy, crazy for feeling so lonely.
I’m crazy, crazy for feeling so blue…
I knew, you’d love me as long as you wanted, and then someday…
Mike gave him a look, not exactly impressed, but he found himself smiling anyway. The absurdity of it. The voice, the ridiculousness of Will singing, the easy laughter that came from his performance.
It made the air between them feel light. Before Will could sing the next line, Mike skipped to the next track, one he didn’t recognize either.
It was upbeat, and the lyrics played:
You held me up, held me down
Made me crazy then you brought me around
Were my darkness and my light
You were my blindness and my sight
Were my shelter, and my storm
Made me cold then you made me warm
You were my fever and my cure
Made me doubt and you made me sure
One step forward and two steps back
This kind of dance can never last…
Mike leaned back in the seat as the song played, the lyrics curling around him in a slow, familiar rhythm. Will had stopped laughing halfway through, and now they just sat there, the truck quiet except for the soft hum of the cassette, the sounds coming from the old truck as it drove on the uneven road, and the occasional chirp of birds near the lake.
Mike glanced at Will, who was staring out the window for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Is this another one of your mom’s favorites?” he asked.
Will shook his head lightly. “No, actually… this one came out a couple years ago. ’87. Desert Rose Band. I like it.”
Mike snorted and pulled the cassette out. “Yeah… not sold. Guess I’m just not a country type of guy.”
Will raised an eyebrow, leaning back with that little teasing grin again. “Oh yeah? Then what are you into?”
Mike thought about it, and the memories of his own playlists, the music that had felt like his before high school swallowed him up, came back in a rush. The Clash. The Who. Billy Idol. Toto. Not that he’d really listened to much for himself. Mostly, he’d just listened to whatever Will had liked because, well… Will had liked it, and Mike had liked Will.
And then Eddie happened. He’d met Eddie freshman year, and suddenly there was a whole new world of music shoved at him: metal, hard rock, Metallica, Guns N’ Roses, Danzig. Loud, fast, messy.
Mike shrugged and glanced at Will. “Actually… I just got this album by a band called Living Colour. They’re a rockband. The first song is really good. Cult of Personality. Got the album after I heard that track.”
Will nodded, his eyebrows rising with interest. “Yeah?”
Mike hesitated for a moment, letting the thought hang. He didn’t tell Will the real reason he’d bought the album. The real hook had been the cover of Should I Stay or Should I Go… a track he knew Will would actually like. He hadn’t bought it for Cult of Personality, no, he’d bought it to hear that track. But, no way he was admitting that to Will, even if it meant lying by omission.
Instead, he let a small, casual smile spread across his face.
“You should listen to it. I can let you borrow it.”
Will’s grin widened ever so slightly, just enough to make Mike’s chest tighten a little.
The silence that followed was comfortable in a way that made Mike’s stomach flutter. He tried not to read too much into it, though, and instead focused on the road ahead as they pulled up to a little cabin tucked away at the end of a winding dirt road.
Mike jumped out of the passenger side, closing the truck door behind him, and his eyes swept over the surroundings. It was actually a nice spot. A wooden porch ran along the front of the cabin, with a barbecue and a table set up as if someone had been expecting company. A rope swing hung from a sturdy tree branch, swaying gently in the breeze, perfect for a running leap into the lake just beyond the treeline during the summer. And there was a small dock, a boat tethered neatly beside it. Mike found himself smiling.
Will swung the cabin door open, brushing a few specks of dust off the handle. “Come on in.”
The cabin was cozy, if a little musty. It smelled faintly of pine and old wood, with a kitchen tucked into one corner, a living area with matched furniture, and two small bedrooms at the back. It reminded Mike of the vacation homes his mom had been pestering his dad about, places that promised escape from the town.
“Cool place,” Mike said, his voice low. He was about to ask why they were here, exactly, when Will’s grin widened mischievously.
Then Will leaned in and kissed him.
Mike froze for a heartbeat… and then didn’t.
There was a sharp thrill, a quick jolt through him that left his heart racing. When Will pulled away, the corner of his mouth still curved up in that infuriatingly charming way, Mike found himself grinning too.
“I’m throwing a party here on Friday, and you’re going to help me.”
Mike blinked.
That was… unexpected, but at the same time… entirely expected. The contrast between them was glaring. Since his return, Will had grown into his newfound popularity, the kind of guy who could throw a party and have everyone show up without blinking. Mike felt a pang of inadequacy; maybe he’d been hoping for something quieter, more intimate with Will.
Before he could spiral into self-doubt, Will’s grin softened, and he added, “But tonight, I just invited the group over. They’ll be here around six. Dustin, Lucas, Max… you, me, it’ll be like the old days.”
Mike felt a little relief seep in, though it didn’t entirely erase the disappointment of not having Will to himself.
“Alright… what do you need me to do?”
For the better part of the next hour, they cleaned.
They scrubbed the kitchen counters, wiped away dust and spiderwebs, and aired out the two bedrooms in the back until the place started to feel less like an abandoned cabin and more like somewhere people actually lived. Will had brought half the supplies for the weekend in the bed of his truck: a keg, a few cases of beer, bags of chips, and a stack of board games Mike suspected were mostly meant for tonight.
They moved around each other in a steady rhythm: quiet and efficient. Busy enough that they didn’t have to talk much, but close enough that Mike kept getting distracted by Will being right there. Once or twice, when they passed each other in the narrow kitchen or near the hallway, Mike leaned in and stole a quick kiss. Will always smiled into it, quick and easy, before nudging him back to work.
It left Mike’s stomach in knots the whole time.
The last thing Will insisted they deal with was outside.
Just off the front porch, facing the lake, was a jacuzzi Mike hadn’t even noticed when they first arrived. It had been hidden beneath a wooden cover that blended almost perfectly with the porch flooring, like it was part of the deck itself.
Will had pried it open with a grunt and announced, very matter-of-factly, that they needed to prep it.
“For tonight and for Friday,” he’d said.
So Mike helped clean it out while Will hooked up the hose and checked the heater. By the time they finished, the jacuzzi was filling and hopefully warming up, the water faintly rippling beneath the soft glow of the string lights hanging overhead. The lights stretched from the porch railing to the nearby trees, casting warm reflections across the surface of the water.
Mike set a stack of towels nearby and folded a couple of blankets over the back of one of the porch chairs.
When they were done, he stepped back into the living room and looked around at everything they’d set up: the snacks on the table, the games stacked neatly, the cabin finally feeling alive.
It actually looked good.
Like a place people would want to stay.
Mike crossed his arms, quietly proud of the work they’d done.
The door creaked behind him.
“Jacuzzi’s ready,” Will said, stepping back inside. “Heater’s working. Shouldn’t be too cold if you feel like jumping in tonight.”
Mike nodded. “Cool… hey, I should probably get my car. Can you give me a ride back to bring it here?”
Will raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? The road’s kinda rough. Your tires…”
Mike waved it off. “Doesn’t matter.”
They climbed back into the truck, and this time, instead of playing one of Will’s tapes, Mike turned on the radio, tuning into the classic rock station Robin and Steve had been hosting since Mike’s junior year.
As they drove, Mike couldn’t resist asking, “How did you even find out about this place? How’d you get the key? Don’t tell me we just broke in.”
Will laughed, the sound easy and warm. “No, we’re not breaking and entering…” He paused, then went quiet for a moment before continuing. “Actually… it used to belong to my grandfather.”
Mike blinked, confused. “Your mom’s dad?” He knew about the estrangement between Joyce and Lonnie’s family. Growing up, Will was really only ever close to Joyce’s side of the family.
“No,” Will corrected gently. “Lonnie’s father. The house we live in now was his too. He passed three years ago and left everything to Jonathan and me. That’s why we moved back to Hawkins.”
Will broke the silence after a short pause. “Mom thought it’d be better to move out of my grandma’s and into a place of our own… or, Jonathan’s now, I guess. The cabin’s mine, technically.”
Mike digested this in silence. He hadn’t known Joyce, Will, and Jonathan had moved to California to live with her parents. He hadn’t known Lonnie’s dad had died. How much else had he missed while they weren’t talking?
Mike opened his mouth to ask something else, but they were pulling into the parking area before he could. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a familiar looking jeep approaching from the road. Lucas and Max were waving the truck down, shouting something indistinct, laughing.
Will rolled down his window, and Lucas yelled, “Will, I forgot the way! Need directions again!”
“Just follow me,” Will called back as Mike stepped out.
Max leaned over, smirking. “Can’t believe you’re actually here, Wheeler! Finally decided to pull that stick out of your ass and beg Will for forgiveness?”
Mike felt his jaw tighten the way it always did when Max spoke to him. He tolerated Max on the best of days. She had this way of calling him out for things she didn’t understand… like she had the whole situation figured out when she’d only ever seen pieces of it. Max loved to poke at people, loved acting like she could read everyone perfectly, and Mike was usually the one she decided needed knocking down a peg.
Dustin and Lucas thought it was funny.
Mike didn’t.
Max had no idea what had actually happened between him and Will. No idea how messy things had gotten, how long he’d spent replaying every conversation in his head. But she still tossed comments like that out like it was all simple. Like it was all Mike’s fault.
Mike flipped her off without even looking back and walked toward his car. Just as he reached it, the roar of another engine rolled up the road behind them. A second later the unmistakable sound of Metallica blasted through the trees, distorted guitar echoing across the lake.
Mike grinned immediately. He knew that car.
Dustin pulled up behind Lucas’s Jeep in his Mustang, easing it onto the gravel with a proud little rev of the engine. The car gleamed under the late afternoon light, the paint catching the sun in deep flashes of purple like a cheap gemstone.
Orchid Haze. Dustin had insisted on the name for weeks after the paint job.
He’d bought the Mustang for five hundred bucks off a guy who swore the engine was completely shot. According to the seller, the thing needed to be rebuilt from the ground up and wasn’t worth the trouble. Dustin had shown up at Mike’s house that day practically vibrating with excitement, announcing he’d gotten the deal of the century.
Turned out the guy had been right about the engine.
But that hadn’t stopped Dustin.
Dustin, Mike, Steven, and Eddie had spent the entire summer before senior year rebuilding it piece by piece. The three of them practically lived in Eddie’s garage. Grease-stained hands, tools scattered everywhere, classic rock blasting while Dustin shouted explanations about carburetors and pistons like he was already a professional mechanic.
By August the engine roared like it had just rolled off the factory line.
Then Dustin had spent another week painting the body that deep, ridiculous purple.
Dustin leaned out the driver’s side, wild curls already escaping from under his hat, a huge grin plastered across his face.
“Thank God I ran into you guys!” he shouted over the music. “I got lost!”
To Mike’s surprise, El leaned forward across the passenger seat, peering past the windshield the moment she spotted him.
“Mike!” she exclaimed excitedly, her whole face lighting up the instant their eyes met. Mike couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at his mouth. There was something unmistakable about the way El said his name, like it carried relief with it.
She leaned a little farther out the window.
And just as Mike expected, she asked, “Can I go with you? Dustin drives like a lunatic.”
“I do not!” Dustin shot back immediately from the driver’s seat, offended. He slapped the steering wheel like the accusation itself had personally insulted him. “I’m the best driver here.”
“Last week you almost hit a mailbox,” El said flatly.
“That mailbox was too close to the road,” Dustin defended.
Mike laughed under his breath, shaking his head as he reached for his car door.
“Yeah, El,” he called back, gesturing toward his car. “Come on.”
Mike was just pulling his car door open when he heard the passenger door of Dustin’s Mustang swing wide.
The music dipped for a second as the door opened, Metallica’s guitar riff spilling out louder into the open air. A moment later it slammed shut again with a solid thunk.
Gravel crunched quickly behind him.
Mike didn’t even have to turn around to know she was running. The rhythm of her footsteps was light but fast.
“Wait!”
He glanced over his shoulder just in time to see her jog the last few steps toward him, ponytail bouncing slightly behind her as she crossed the parking lot. She slowed when she reached him, a little breathless but smiling like she’d just escaped something.
Behind her, Dustin leaned halfway out his window, arguing with Lucas and Max.
“I am not a bad driver!” he shouted, gesturing wildly with one hand while the other stayed on the wheel. “You guys are just overly sensitive to speed!”
Lucas laughed. Max said something Mike couldn’t quite hear, but it made Dustin groan loudly in protest.
El ignored all of it.
She came to a stop beside Mike’s car and looked up at him, clearly pleased with herself for making the switch.
Mike shook his head with a quiet laugh and moved to pull the passenger door open for her.
“C’mon,” he said. “Before Dustin decides to prove his point.”
El smiled at him, the kind that crinkled her eyes a little, and before climbing in she leaned forward and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
It was quick. Casual. Familiar. Still, Mike blinked in surprise for half a second.
Then she slid into the passenger seat, pulling her legs inside as she settled in.
Mike pushed the door closed for her and walked around the front of the car toward the driver’s side. Gravel crunched under his shoes as he circled the hood.
When he glanced up, he caught sight of Will in the driver’s seat of his truck.
Will was looking straight at him. Not laughing with Dustin, Lucas, and Max. Not saying anything. Just watching. His expression was unreadable again, somewhere between neutral and distant, like Mike had caught him mid-thought.
Mike frowned faintly, but the moment passed quickly. Dustin started revving his engine again behind Lucas’s Jeep, and Lucas leaned halfway out the window to shout something back at him.
Mike decided that he wouldn’t think too much about it.
He opened the driver’s side door and slid into his seat, starting the car as the engines around them rumbled to life.
A/N: cut it short here because, well, I ended up realizing that I was over 5000 words in, and was getting tired lol. I work on a computer all day and staring at a screen all day suuuuuuucks ngl.
That being said, I will definitely try to have the rest of this day, ie the next chapter, up before Will's birthday :) hehehe
THANK YOU to everyone who’s sent love via comments and kudos/like and reposts! Ya'll are the reason I write.
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Read newest chapters first on AO3 (subscribe, comment, and kudos!! Pls, it inspires me so much!!!)
Someone, please forgive me, I've been heading for the plate. But if I cannot take the stands then I do not deserve the stage, and I don't want to be forgotten if my luck cannot avail me. If I come out of the shadows, will my legacy prevail? Or am I just another wash-up? Am I damned to go out swinging? I can’t hear you from the dugout, is there anyone else singing for me?
"YOU CAN LEAD A TEAM TO WATER, BUT YOU CAN'T CONTROL A STRIKE - YOU'RE ON THE SIDELINES, BUT YOU'RE NOT SIDELINED. CAN WE EMBRACE A BRAND NEW ERA WHILE REMEMBERING THE RIDE? YOU'RE ON THE SIDELINES... WE ALL GET SIDELINED."