[JAY LYCURGO, CIS MAN, HE/HIM] who’s that? oh it’s [WILL BYERS]. i hear they’re [18] and are known as [THE MILK CARTON KID] around [HAWKINS P.D.]. they’re also a [SENIOR] at [HAWKINS HIGH SCHOOL]. they’re known to be [SENSITIVE and CREATIVE] and [RESENTFUL and ISOLATED]. some people say they remind them of [recreating bad dreams on paper, threadbare hand-me-downs patched up with love, resenting his own fragility, and escaping into fantastical worlds].
Will has been here before. Empty, sterile room. LEDs so bright he has to squint until his eyes adjust. All eyes on him. Alert, searching, waiting for him to break. He played his mother's words over in his head: It's just routine questioning, baby. I'm gonna be right outside. Be polite, tell the truth, but don't offer more than they ask for. When Powell and Callahan re-entered the interrogation room, Will swallowed, hard. It was difficult not to feel like he was being studied again, or worse. As hard as he tried, Will was never very good at hiding the cracks in his façade.
MANDATORY PROCEDURAL QUESTIONS:
"Answer clearly and directly ... this is a standard investigative procedure and you are on record. Let's get started."
STATE YOUR FULL LEGAL NAME FOR THE RECORD.
"William Jacob Byers." The straightforward questions were fine. Predictable. Just procedure. But underneath the buzzing lights, Will couldn't help but feel as if he was on display.
WHAT IS YOUR CURRENT ADDRESS?
"The same house, out past Denfield." He was sure they had the address, but Will worried that his non-answer was an affront. He glanced instinctively at the glass, searched for his mother on the other side, but all he saw was an image of himself mirrored back.
WHAT IS YOUR DATE OF BIRTH?
"March 22, 1971."
WHAT IS YOUR PLACE OF EMPLOYMENT AND JOB TITLE?
"Oh... I volunteer at the library. It's not paid, or anything." Did it count as a job? "--You know the art classes for kids? I help out." The kids were nice, and it was easy on Mom to drop him off with El. Plus, it felt... normal. Almost mundane. Exactly what Will was going for.
WHAT IS YOUR RELATIONSHIP TO THE WHEELER FAMILY?
"Mike's my best friend," Will said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. To him, it was. When Callahan waved his pen in the air, prodding for more information, Will clarified, "Since kindergarten."
WERE YOU FORMALLY INVITED TO THE BBQ?
He furrowed his brow, shaking his head once before he stammered, "I don't... I mean, yeah? I was definitely invited." Will couldn't recall a summer that hadn't ended with Mrs. Wheeler's barbecue, and then an endless movie marathon in the basement.
WHAT TIME DID YOU ARRIVE AT THE BBQ?
"Sorry, I don't know exactly. Definitely in the afternoon," Will confessed with a frown.
HOW DID YOU GET TO THE BBQ?
"I caught a ride." He sighed when Powell gave him a look, "With Lucas."
CAN ANYONE VERIFY YOUR LOCATION THROUGHOUT THE BBQ?
"My mom," Will supplied, eyes once again flitting to the mirrored window. "Mike, Mrs. Wheeler, any of my friends."
HOW LONG WERE YOU AT THE WHEELER BBQ, APPROXIMATELY?
"Um, a while. I think we got home around ten."
HOW DID YOU LEAVE THE BBQ? WITH WHOM?
"Mom and El."
ARE YOU CURRENTLY UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF ANY SUBSTANCES THAT MAY AFFECT YOUR MEMORY OR BEHAVIOUR DURING THE COURSE OF THIS WITNESS INTERROGATION?
The bluntness of the question caught Will off guard, but thankfully he didn't have to lie when he said, "No, definitely not."
INVESTIGATION QUESTIONS
HAVE YOU EVER KNOWN MRS. KAREN WHEELER TO LOSE HER TEMPER?
Will had heard Mrs. Wheeler yell more times than he could count. It was never malicious, and rarely angry. It was just sort of... how she and Mike communicated sometimes. A yell up to his bedroom, a yell down to the basement. When he was in elementary, Will suggested Mike give his mom a walkie-talkie, because it would probably be easier than constantly hollering after each other. Now, he's grateful they didn't do that. One, so Mrs. Wheeler couldn't eavesdrop on their communications, and two... the constant hum of noise at the Wheeler house was nice. Reassuring. His own house growing up was tense, to put it lightly. On the days where things did come to yelling, it was explosive, almost superhuman. All the other days were like navigating an intricately trapped evil lair, stepping just so to avoid the triggers. "No," Will said, shooting a questioning glance at Powell. "She's, like, a normal mom. She yells when dinner's ready, that kind of thing." He didn't understand the purpose of the question.
WHOSE KEYS DID WE FIND IN YOUR BACK POCKET?
"El's," he said, again uncertain about the question's merit to the ongoing investigation. Maybe it was a power play, a way for Callahan to remind him that they'd emptied his pockets, they had his belongings in a plastic bag at reception. His wallet. A handful of peppermints. The keyring in question, attached to a silky pink scrunchie and a miniature squirrel figurine that had, admittedly, seen better days. Maybe Will could repaint it for her birthday next year. "We accidentally swapped this morning. It happens. It's just the house key, so it doesn't matter," Will rambled, wondering about the pocket-sized sketch book he'd forfeited. The drawings in there could easily be attributed to a Hellfire campaign or an overactive imagination, but something about his drawings felt vulnerable. Telling, maybe, like all the things locked up deep within his chest were bursting out of containment with every stroke of the pencil. He hoped they weren't poking around in there.
DID YOU FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE OR UNSAFE AT ANY POINT DURING THE BBQ?
With so much of Hawkins there, Will was destined to feel on edge. It was silly, definitely, that after everything they'd been through-- every inter-dimensional monster he'd been stalked by-- the Hawkins High class of '89 was his biggest fear to date. Even surrounded by all of his friends and family, a glance from Troy Walsh or Tommy Hagan was enough to quicken Will's pulse, set him on edge. "No," he said, the word sounding much more certain off his lips than it felt internally. "Nothing more than like... high school bullshit," Will attempted a good-natured comment, though his smile more closely resembled a grimace.
mike had always admired will's art. for goodness' sake, he had a whole binder of it filled with drawings and sketches from their years of growing up together. he used to keep it in the basement, but he had moved it up to his bedroom sometime in the last couple of years. it was safe there, away from anyone else potentially finding it and throwing away all of the priceless work within it. "my mom bought all of us crayola too, but we never did anything cool with it. we don't have talents like the great will byers," he grinned, and it sounded like sarcasm but he meant it genuinely. "you'll be a famous artist one day. just don't forget the little people, such as myself, when you're taking the art world by storm."
it was so much easier for him to talk about how well he thought will would do in life than it was to talk about the upcoming schoolyear. as much as he was excited to get it over and done with, he still had to crawl his way through the torturous months ahead. he was looking less forward to that part; to the homework and late nights spent studying and the stressing out about exams and SATs. he tried to focus on the stuff that wasn't intimidating - the fun stuff that he could do when he needed an escape. there had to be something to take the edge off of being a senior at hawkins high.
"i think what i'm about to say is so unbelievably lame, and if you ever repeat it to anyone else then i will deny it until i'm blue in the face, but i think i'd actually like to go to one of the formal dances this year," he said. he'd been to them before, but mostly out of peer pressure. he wanted to do it on his own, this time. "i want to officially ask someone out and bring them a flower and have our pictures taken by my mom, as every bit embarrassing as that will be." he shrugged a bit, trying to play off his words although the blush on his face denied his inner feelings. the thought did excite him.
all too late, once he was done speaking, he realized that he never referred to his date as a she, or as a girl. was he supposed to? did it matter? would will even notice? and if he did, would he care? if there was anyone in the world that he didn't think would judge him for absolutely anything, it was will. after all they had been through together after so many years, he didn't think that something like that could keep them apart. ironically that was sort of the problem here, but he obviously couldn't say that.
"now i'm the one that's sounding stupid. i never thought i'd be excited to hit up a hawkins dance under the influence of my own free will," he said, almost having to laugh at how wild it sounded. house parties, weed, and bad beer were all things he thought he would willingly endure, but a high school formal hadn't ever made the bucket list before. there was a first time for everything, he supposed.
Despite how many times he's heard a similar sentiment from Mike specifically, his best friend's words make Will's ears hot. He can't help the smile that splits onto his face at Mike's praise, even if Will thinks he's maybe, definitely looking at Will's art through rose-colored glasses. He couldn't bear to deny Mike-- about anything really-- but certainly not when he was being so earnest, so Will simply pressed his lips together and shook his head once. "That's... I don't know about that." Will didn't really care that much about being famous or anything, he just wanted to keep making art, whenever and however he could. His next words are quieter, but much more certain, "I'd never forget about you. Impossible."
Mike's explanation made Will sit up straighter, lean in just a little bit closer-- because whatever he was going to confess, it was obviously important. Everything Mike said was important to Will. The idea of Mike willingly attending a dance was... definitely shocking. But Will smiled encouragingly, nodding as Mike elaborated. "I don't think that's lame," he said. "A little... surprising, I guess," Will confessed in turn. He'd never known Mike to be someone who particularly liked spending time in a suit, or having his picture taken, or being around anyone who wasn't part of their already-established friend group. But maybe Mike was changing, embracing senior year.
The idea of a brand-new Mike, a Mike who wanted to take someone to a dance set a bloom of anxiety loose in Will's chest. He immediately felt like he was behind. The voice in the back of his head telling Will that he was different and he was always destined to be was loud, but he muscled through it. Mike didn't deserve for Will's insecurities, the pang of jealousy in his gut, to detract from his plans. "Yeah, that would be-- maybe it'd be fun. It's like, the biggest night of the year or whatever. Plus, your mom would be really happy," Will said, with a breathy laugh. "Do already you have someone in mind?"
He tried to play his question off as casual curiosity, as if Will's entire body wasn't tense, waiting for Mike's answer. Will responded to Mike's downplaying reflexively, putting a hand on his knee and shaking his head, "You're not stupid and it's not embarrassing." He shrugged, "It's like... the most normal thing you could do. And normal is good, right?"
El hesitated before answering. Her eyes flicked down to the headphones in Will’s hands. Something in the quiet of the moment softened her face. The familiar Walkman clutched between them like it held actual magic in it. And maybe it did. It wasn’t always easy, being out in the world, especially not when she still felt like an unfinished sketch of a person half of the time, but with Will, things always got quieter. A calmer storm. It was odd that he had become one of the biggest constants in her life, despite not meeting him when she escaped from the lab.
"Okay," she answered, and took the headphones from him with both hands like it was bound to break if she wasn’t careful enough. "We can wait."
El didn’t really get music the way Will did. Not like how it meant something so deeply to him and Jonathan like it was basically stitched into their bones. But she liked watching him listen to it. Like Will was somewhere better when he listened to it.
She slid the headphones on to wrap around her ears and leaned back against the grass, letting her head tilt just slightly toward his. When the first track crackled through the static, she let the corners of her mouth lift. Not quite a smile, but close enough.
"Thanks," she said after a minute. Then, almost as an afterthought, "they'll find us eventually." At some point, she was sure their music session would be interrupted by someone. Whether it was Mike or Max or Dustin or - well, the list could go on.
There was a lot she didn’t understand - about people, about herself. But she knew how to recognize when her chest didn’t feel quite so heavy. And sometimes that only happened when Will had an extra pair of headphones. She turned her head and looked at him again, serious. "What are we listening to?" She asked. El wasn't quite as in the know about music other than what Will provided her with or what she would let Max play. In fact, if El had to discover music on her own, she didn't even know where she would start. (90s!El you are going to love discovering The Cranberries)
"Okay," he repeated with a gentle smile. As much as Will knew he and El were supposed to, like... 'get out there' and socialize or whatever, this was so much more fun. He wasn't a hermit or anything-- Will genuinely liked people. The problem was that people didn't always seem to like him back, and after everything that had happened, all the life-or-death scenarios, he'd decided that it was okay to spend his time with the people who loved him, who were safe.
Will looped the headphones over his ears and waited for El to do the same before he hit play on the tape. The first track started out slow, almost melancholy as the solo guitar plucked dreamily through the airwaves. He tilted his head towards his sister's, letting the ends of her hair tickle his cheek. Nothing else really mattered right now.
"They always do," he hummed. Will half-expected Mike to come bursting through the crowd right then, barreling down on them in a mixture of excitement and panic. Neither of them could go too long without the other, and Will breathed a sign of relief that they weren't hundreds of miles away in California after all.
At El's question, Will's eyes lit up, "You know Pink Floyd? That band Jonathan likes?" He hummed a couple of bars from "Wish You Were Here" for good measure. Will took El's wide-eyed gaze as encouragement and barreled ahead, "So the front man of Pink Floyd, Roger Waters, released this in '84. It's like a long narrative album, all about him basically having a midlife crisis. The last track is my favorite-- 'The Moment of Clarity.' It's him, like, waking up from his dream and realizing he didn't actually want to wish his life away."
For someone relatively quiet and soft-spoken, Will could easily go on for longer than El ever wanted about The Pros And Cons of Hitch Hiking. He could tell her that, when he bought it on vinyl last year, he'd painted over the cover because he didn't want to wake up and see that everyday. "Uh-- sorry," he blushed, thankful for the loud swell of track two to pull him back from telling El all about how Steve O'Rourke wanted Pros to be a Pink Floyd album, not a solo work.
He cleared his throat, tilting his head to the side and looking at his sister. "Do you ever feel like that-- like you need to move somewhere far away and, like, start over?" Will asked, tiptoeing towards something real.
For a moment, she just laid there beside him. She could feel the uneven patch of grass poking into the back of her arm. "Like, seahorses," she plainly answered.
"I don’t think you’re lame," she said at last, like it was a serious correction. "You’re just… Will." She turned her head to glance at him, eyebrows scrunched slightly, like maybe he should’ve understood what that meant already. "That’s different."
"Hubert asked if I knew what Dungeons and Dragons was. Then tried to explain it to me for fifteen minutes. He spit when he talked," a pause, "a lot. Maybe I should ask him to join Mike's little club that he's always talking about. That's what I meant." El definitely wasn't good at playing, nor did she think she really enjoyed it. She liked it because Will and Mike liked it. That was where it ended.
Before he could mention anything else about her pointed lameness, she tilted her head toward the bustle of the drive. The parents laughing too loudly, pop music coming from a speaker, someone arguing over the last drawstring bag at a booth, and added, "I don’t think I’m good at mentoring. Or at... this."
Her tone was flat, but not without feeling. Frustrated, maybe. A little vulnerable. "And I haven't seen Max yet," she shook her head. And maybe that was part of her problem. Nobody was together or around, and El hated being alone in a big space. Too suffocating. Especially when she couldn't find someone who was such a constant in her life like Max. "How am I supposed to find anyone here?" Then, a quirked look. "Have you seen Mike?"
"Right," Will said, confusion lingering in his tone. He didn't really get how seahorses connected to cafeteria food, but he didn't feel like he had to. Sometimes it was easier to just accept El's conclusions-- not because he didn't care to correct her (or at least not always), but because it had to make her feel weird to constantly be a riddle.
He flashed a smile at his sister, laughing softly. "Okay... it's different," he leaned over and bumped his shoulder against hers, an unspoken promise that he wasn't offended. "Different doesn't mean lame," he reiterated, echoing the sentiment Jonathan passed down to him all those years ago, before Will really even knew what different could entail.
Will's nose wrinkled up in disgust as he shook his head at the image of Hubert's spit flying, "Ew, gross." He wondered for a moment if Mike would, like, kill him for discouraging a potential new member, but Will couldn't stop himself from saying, "Or maybe not. Imagine playing a whole campaign without a spit guard. No thanks." He felt a little mean for what was most definitely punching down, but Will was genuinely grossed out at the thought.
He nodded sympathetically, pushing himself up on forearms to rummage through his backpack. "Me, either. Guess I didn't realize how many people would be here," Will frowned, pushing past assorted school supplies and an old, incredibly worn Dungeons and Dragons manual to no avail.
"Not yet," he admitted in response. Will wasn't sure what her look meant-- maybe El didn't want to see Mike, or something-- but he decided to sidestep it. "She'll come by eventually," Will reassured his sister, pulling his Walkman out of the bag. He grinned, rigging his splitter with a pair of headphones for him and a pair of headphones for El. "Wanna wait for them to find us?" he lifted the headphones in offering.
mike knew he didn't have to do that. he didn't have to stick around and help will out with what was, ultimately, a one person job. a dog could handle this booth, truth be told, and will was super smart and capable so he knew he could leave and have his own fun for a little while. the only thing was, he didn't want to. he likely wouldn't have that much fun with anyone else, and he would almost certainly just annoy his other friends by moping and whining about how much he hated sunlight and the heat and not being at home like the vampire he was.
so, he figured, why not spare everyone and stay right where he was? "i don't have to, but i want to. besides, someone has to be here to lay down the law. i know you, and you'll be far too nice when this is serious business!" he insisted, playfully jabbing right back at will for the teasing he'd given him. tit for tat, and all that jazz.
"it's nice that you're thinking of it in that way, though. i'm not sure i would have considered it, but yeah, maybe they'll be able to pick out some things on their own," he said. only if they had enough supplies, and only if they didn't get too many more signups, he figured. it was moments like these that he remembered that will had been on the signup sheet in the past more often than not, and he was so happy for him that this year he wouldn't have to deal with that.
he'd never seen will, jonathan, or even joyce as needy people. he didn't view the signups as needy people either. life just sucked like that sometimes, and there wasn't much that anybody could do about it. they had to get their supplies somehow, and he thought of it as the one fairly decent thing that the middle and high schools did for the students.
he shook his head at the question, bringing his mind back to the present. "it isn't stupid. nothing you say is stupid," he said nonchalantly, but he meant it. will could say almost anything and mike probably still would've said that, able to make sense of whatever came out of his mouth. that was a special skill reserved for best friends only, if he had to guess. "i think it's weird, too. all of a sudden we're seniors, adults, finishing high school. it's so crazy to think of it as being all that important, but everyone seems to think it is. maybe we won't know why until after we've graduated, or something."
"Okay, well, cool," Will agreed easily. It's not that he wanted Mike to leave, but Will felt the need to be clear that it was okay if he wanted to hang out with their other friends. Or Mike's other friends. Since kindergarten, Will has been distinctly aware of his unique claim on Mike-- how their friendship had always been just a little bit different-- and while it was, most days, a point of pride for Will... sometimes he felt guilty about it. Like his neediness or the never-ending drama of his life had stunted Mike in some way. He knew that wasn't true, and that this guilt was misplaced, but he just had to check sometimes.
He laughed, shaking his head at the idea of laying down the law at the school supplies drive. "Mike," he groaned, rolling his eyes even while a fond smile played at his lips. "Serious business to who? Are we going to get audited?" he teased, though his best friend definitely had a point. If it was up to Will, he'd let people take whatever they wanted-- whatever they needed-- and then they'd be left with nothing for the unfortunate few who didn't get here early.
"It was always a big deal to me. Like, it just felt different to pick something out instead of some random high schooler giving you a bag full of generic stuff," Will said with a shrug. He didn't want to belabor the point, but he hoped his influence would make the whole process a little bit nicer for at least a couple of kids. He wasn't trying to, like, save the world or anything. He'd leave that to El. "I always hated these colored pencils, they broke so easily," he mused, picking up a box of the off-brand pencils. Thankfully, Mom cared enough to buy him the real deal-- the Crayola 150 pack that he still had somewhere.
Nothing you say is stupid. Mike threw it out so easily, like it was a given, but Will's face flushed with heat at the sentiment. It meant more coming from Mike, who didn't exactly shy away from telling it like it is. "Yeah, it's like... they want us to be adults or whatever, and make these huge decisions, but they're still treating us like kids." Will was maybe talking about the way people treated him, but he thought it had some merit for the broader population of 17-and-18-year-old Hawkins seniors. He shrugged, looking to Mike with a curious smile, "What's one thing you absolutely have to do this year?"
Nancy remembered when she had been assigned a freshman to take around the school; it was when Mike and his friends had been in the very grade of student she'd had to mentor. It was strange, now, to see them on the other side, to think that they might have some sort of advice or direction to give someone else when Nancy still saw them as the preteens in her basement.
Will had always been a shy kid, even before the supernatural had gotten ahold of him. Still, Nancy felt her lips curl into a frown, saddened by the thought that he somehow knew less about the high school experience than the rest of his friends just because his looked different. "Of course you do. Your classwork wasn't any different, right? And, you've been to the high school enough times to know your way around. I think that counts," she pointed out, encouraging.
Still, Nancy knew it wasn't the traditional high school path the rest of his close friends had taken, and even if he'd had El by his side, it wasn't the same. "If you ever need anything, though, you can always ask. Not that, um, I mean--I'm sure Jonathan would also happily help you. But, still." It was the acknowledgement that she was there for him, if he ever needed her, even if they didn't see each other as often nowadays.
"I guess not," Will conceded to her point. He didn't disagree-- he had taken all of the same classes as his friends, probably even read more of the textbooks under his mom's watchful eye than everybody else did. Still, it was hard not to feel inexperienced with the whole high school thing-- socially, at least.
But he was sure Nancy knew what he meant and was just doing her best to be encouraging. Sometimes she acted like his mom in that way, attentive, eager to help, even protective sometimes. Will knew Mike had missed her when she was in college, even if he refused to say it-- and Will had too, in his way. The Wheeler house was weirdly empty without all three siblings in it; To Will, Nancy's absence was felt much more than Mr. Wheeler's.
"Thanks Nancy, yeah-- I know," Will said with a soft smile. The hot prick of guilt tugged at his chest when she mentioned Jonathan, and he pressed his lips together to contain a 'sorry' she would certainly reject as unnecessary. "Do you... how are you settling in? Is it weird, being back here?"
"Green." Max answered instantly, then after some thought, added, "Or black. Whatever you have really." She didn't want to make too much of a stink about it, as long as she didn't end up with some flashy Mead Critter Sitter folder, she'd be fine. "Thanks again." For hooking her up with the supplies, and for storing them. If she were to carry them around the block party, they'd inevitably get smacked out of her hands like they did to nerds in some corny teen romcom.
She had to make a concerted effort not to allow her jaw to drop at the revelation. Joyce got a job at Hawkins High? Sure, it made sense or whatever. However Max anticipated it being a problem for her. Other staff, she could write off, but Joyce catching her ditching? That seemed almost impossible to wriggle out of. She stayed nonchalant, propping a hand on the table and asking, "Oh really? What's she doing?" She cast Will another look, one that privately asked And how do we feel about that?
"Give yourself more credit than that, Will." Surely, he knew there was more than the stupid Hellfire Club. Maybe not? "Orrr, take a look at one of your brother's yearbooks. You'll be fine. You're friendly and get good grades, that's probably why they picked you." She assured sincerely. Max rarely felt lucky, more the opposite if anything. But in this instance, yeah, she was. She shrugged in agreement.
Max had hoped maybe Will's excitement would rub off on her, but no luck. She wasn't going to dunk on him for it though, "Yeah. It'll be nice to have you and El at lunch and stuff. I don't know if I can take another six months of Dustin groaning about student council by myself." Still, she was unconvinced. It seemed everyone was excited about senior year, except her. "Hey, speaking of, are you gonna join any clubs? Other than Hellfire."
Will made a mental note and lifted his fingers in a half-salute. He narrowly resisted saying roger that, which he knew would earn him an eyeroll or some well-meaning lecture about how he couldn't let Mike and Dustin reform him into a total nerd. As far as Will was concerned, he liked being a nerd-- for the most part. He figured it was better to be picked on for getting good grades and liking comics and Dungeons and Dragons than something else.
He wrinkled his nose, trying to remember what his mom had said her new job entailed. It would help, maybe, if Will had even half a clue as to what it took to run a school behind the scenes. "It's some kind of like... administration?" he offered, "Like, front desk I'm pretty sure. She said something about attendance, too..." It dawned on Will, then, that this wasn't exactly good news for Max. But maybe... it could also be helpful, to have someone on the school side who knew her, knew what she'd been through in a way no one else did-- someone who could advocate for her. Not that Max needed it. Or wanted it.
"It'll be good for her, I think. Something new," Will rattled off, pausing to think about how he felt, which he knew Max's raised eyebrow was asking. "I don't know if I'm, like... glad she'll be close by, or--" Will sighed, feeling guilty for even having reservations about it, "Jonathan keeps saying I should do normal stuff. Like go to parties or whatever. Which I-- which, one, I don't know if I even want to do. And two..." he trailed off, sure that Max knew what he was thinking. How was he supposed to have a 'normal' senior year with his mom in the other room?
Stealing a glance at Jonathan's yearbooks wasn't a bad idea, and Will nodded. "Yeah, I guess I can be lame and give him study tips," he laughed, scratching at the back of his neck. Will's lips twisted up into a fond smile at the mention of lunch all together. That was truly what he was excited about, doing all the normal, so-mundane-you-don't-think-about-them things with his friends. Lunch, passing period, calculus. "He's been talking about the opening assembly for a month already," Will revealed with a groan. He loved Dustin, but when he got fixated on something... well, it was very unstoppable force. Will flashed Max a teasing smile, "Are there even other clubs?" Still, he shrugged. "I haven't thought much about it yet. Are you?"
although joyce was quick to fix him with a look, one that said he knew better than to be self deprecating around her, she didn't go into the spiel that she always had prepared and at the ready. he didn't need to hear that he was popular in her heart, or that she thought he was cool. if her own mom had said that to her at eighteen, she would have had a coronary. she felt lucky that he would even be seen with her at the booth at all.
"i know every parent says that, every good one anyway, but we say that because it's the truth. i also know that you've got a freshman you feel like you'll have to give advice to, and the desire to be popular is inherent in most people. kids especially," she said instead. her love for him ran deep, deeper than any ocean on earth, and he could likely feel that love in her gaze. she didn't need to bore him to tears by saying it for the tenth time that day. "besides. being popular in this town takes some sacrifices, believe me."
hawkins wasn't a town that anyone should strive for popularity in. it was rife with bullies, know-it-alls, and bigots. such was the life in a small midwestern town, she supposed, but she was glad that neither of her boys (nor her girl) had ever given in to such awful peer pressure. they were wonderfully weird and she was endlessly proud of all of them.
she released him from her careful grip and stepped away, hands up as if to say 'hey, i know i'm being uncool myself, right now'. she had never thought she would turn out to be such a mom, but there were a lot of things that had happened in the last few years that she had never thought would happen either. "on the other hand, you could tell them all what's hip right now. what it takes to be totally rad at hawkins high. that's still a thing you all say, right?"
Will raised his hands in surrender at his mom's look. He wasn't looking to get into it with her today or any other day, especially because she was maybe the only person in the world more stubborn than one Mike Wheeler. He'd thought about it a lot-- the similarities his best friend had to his mom, the fierceness they both had about him-- and had come to the conclusion that it was something bigger than all of them. Magnetic, maybe, like how certain people just found each other.
"Well, trust me, I'm not interested. I just feel bad for my freshman," Will murmured. He wasn't sure that because it's the truth constituted a solid argument, but Will figured moms always talked like they had access to some divine sort of intuition. In the case of his mom... well, maybe it was a little true. "Even Lucas doesn't like it that much," Will said, his way of agreeing with Mom's sentiment... though he wasn't sure what, exactly, Lucas had sacrificed to be popular save for a couple of campaigns in the name of his new obligations.
Will was less than eager to relay to his mom the myriad benefits of Lucas' popularity, as told by Mike and Dustin: namely that Troy and his cronies kept a wider berth than they'd ever bothered to in middle school. He was pretty sure their respective growth spurts had something to do with it, too-- though just because he was inching towards 6'0" didn't mean he knew the first thing about self defense. From high school bullies, at least.
He groaned, immediately shaking his head at Mom's attempt at lingo, "Oh, God, Mom!" He winced, firm when he promised her, "No, it's totally not. Please don't ever say that to anyone else, please." Will was desperate for something-- anything-- to get her off this topic, and he'd been wondering for a while anyway... "Is it going to be weird for you? Being back at Hawkins High?"
at first, he didn't know how he hadn't realized it was will to begin with. it must have been the sun in his eyes, blinding him momentarily before he could actually see who stood before him. the gentle touch to his arm snapped him back to reality, and his smile morphed from one that was forced into one that was more than genuine. "oh," he said a bit dumbly, though he was happy that he wasn't having to deal with a stranger. "my bad."
his tone had shifted from one of annoyance into a more happy one, always pleased to see his best friend. he loved all of his friends (most of them, anyway), but will would always have that special spot right at the top. he was his oldest and closest, so it was no trouble at all for him to scoot his chair over to the side a little bit so that will could sit down next to him.
"i am bored. what are you, some sort of mind reader?" he asked with a grin, reaching out to take the water bottle. he probably did need to stay hydrated beyond soda, so he finished off what was left in the can and vowed to stick to water for the rest of the day. he picked the clipboard back up and handed it over to will. "we can tag team the rest of my shift. and maybe i'll stick around to help out with yours, too," he said.
it's not as though he hadn't planned on spending the rest of the day with him anyway. if he could get out of exploring the rest of the party while also getting to hang out with will? that was a win-win in his books. "it's going alright so far. we've got less signups this year than usual, i think, which is good. that means the donations can be spread more thickly, and nobody will feel left out. that's a plus."
"It's okay," Will reassured him, gentle smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. When they were together, sometimes Will felt like there was a protective bubble around the two of them; like an invisible force field or something, a rippling undercurrent of safety. Mike had always been that for Will. Other than his family, he was Will's home away from home.
Will would be lying if he said he didn't notice how Mike talked to him versus... everyone else, really. The harsh edge of his voice was missing, the furrowing of his brow gone. It was a testament to their years of friendship, to the time and effort they'd each put into knowing each other better than their own selves, sometimes.
"No," he laughed, pulling out his own water bottle and taking a swig. "It's not like you leave much up to the imagination, Mike," Will teased, leaning back in the chair and pretending to snore with his head bobbing. Mike sufficiently mocked, Will took the clipboard and skimmed the list. He felt a little bad about his selfish relief for not being on the list this year.
"Yeah?" Will asked, tone betraying his hope, "But you don't have to do that." He knew hanging out here all day wasn't exactly Mike's idea of fun. Was it anyone's? Nodding along, Will flipped the sheet on the clipboard over to see the end of the list, "That's really good. Maybe kids can even pick some of their own stuff this year, you know?" He always felt bad about the one-size-fits-all nature of charity like this-- half the fun of going back to school was getting to pick out your supplies and all, like when he was going into the sixth grade and all he wanted was a mustard yellow pencil pouch, but the only color they had at the supply drive was this greyish burgundy.
He glanced up at Mike with a wistful smile, "I still can't believe we're seniors. My mom keeps, like, saying it-- but it is weird. Is that stupid?"
every year, for whatever reason, mike seemed to go through something like selective amnesia. the winter months would roll through hawkins at a snail's pace, keeping him bundled up in striped sweaters and thick leather boots. there was always hot chocolate on hand in the wheeler household, so he typically had that instead of coffee every morning before school. what he failed to remember on those short, dreary days where the temperature dipped far below fifty degrees fahrenheit, was that the winter months didn't last. they eventually ended, as all things did, and summer would blast its way into indiana like a goddamn freight train when he least expected it.
cue him at the build-a-backpack booth at noon with a black cardigan tied around his waist. the sun was up high in the sky and there didn't appear to be a single cloud in sight. the best thing he had for shade was the simple canopy up above the booth, though it didn't do much for the sweat heating up the back of his neck. he held a clipboard in one hand and an ice-cold can of coke in the other. the good stuff, not that new drivel the execs tried to push on everyone a while back (talk about a bad idea).
it hadn't been his idea to sign up for the booth. matter of fact, he could have gone the whole drive not helping in the slightest. there was an air-conditioned bedroom at home with his name on it, a fresh vhs rented out from family video, and a back to school campaign that he desperately needed to finish putting together for hellfire before school opened back up. however, the maternal unit had absolutely insisted that he not only show his face at the drive, but that he also had to help in some form or fashion. his decision to sign up for the noon to two p.m. slot wasn't even his own; it just so happened to be the only one left. exhilarating.
not ten seconds after he leaned back to close his eyes in a poor attempt to catch a nap - the booth wasn't very busy with all of the other things going on - he felt a shadow land in front of him. he sighed and sat back up, blinking his eyes open to the unyielding brightness of the day. "if you're here to donate, leave your items in the box to my left. don't just throw them in there, it could damage the cans and boxes and i'll be extra annoyed. if you're in need of a donation, i humbly offer you this clipboard and my pen with which you can fill out your information," he announced, setting the clipboard down onto the table in front of him and offering the best smile he could muster up on such short notice.
for: whoever
from: mike
where: back to hell school block party !
The '88-'89 school year was monumental for several reasons. One, Will and El were actually going to be enrolled, not just sort-of-students who got to do an extracurricular or two. Two, because according to the rumor Mom heard, the cafeteria had switched distribution companies to get fresher food-- something about a federal focus on healthy students. And three, because Will was at the back-to-school drive to volunteer, not to pick up supplies for himself. Part of the reason he'd signed up was in celebration for his newfound status as a 'normal kid.'
The other part was obviously because Mrs. Wheeler always made Mike sign up, too. It was fate that Mike's shift overlapped with Will's, and it was all the motivation Will needed to to get to the booth early. As he approached the bright white canopy, Will hit pause on his Genesis tape and slid his headphones down around his neck. There Mike was, lounging in his chair like he was suntanning or something. He didn't usually look comfortable like this, and Will smiled at him for a second before he got close enough to cast a shadow over the table, effectively announcing his presence.
Mike, though, seemed to be on autopilot. He launched into the spiel while he attempted to blink the sunlight out of his eyes. Will snickered, reaching over and touching his arm, "Mike. It's me." He returned Mike's smile, sliding the backpack off his shoulder and depositing it behind the booth. Will took a seat in the folding chair next to his best friend, unzipping his bag and handing over a water bottle that was already slick with condensation. "I thought you'd be bored, and my shift is next, so," Will shrugged, shifting his chair closer to Mike's to get out of the sun. "How's it going so far?"
it had been years since joyce had properly worked at melvald's. if she hadn't quit, she likely would have been fired when she became branded as the town's resident loon (although those accusations had finally mostly died down). if that hadn't been enough to seal her fate, then the advances she had asked for and her constant missed-shifts near the end of her tenure there would've done it. all that to say that she was still hanging around the booth as if she had any reason to be. she didn't, and there was a whole block party to go off and enjoy, but frankly she was using it as a thinly veiled excuse to be near her youngest son.
whoever the customer was, if they had even planned on buying anything to begin with, scurried off at the question. they must have deemed it too weird to answer, and she knew good and well that hawkins was a town full of people too afraid to confront their own feelings and emotions. so be it, she thought. if they wouldn't answer, she would butt in and answer it herself.
"i know you weren't talking to me, but listen to your ol' mom for a second," she said, gripping him loosely by the shoulder as she sidled up next to him. he was getting so tall now and he was certainly taller than she was, but she wished he was smaller still. he'd always be little in her mind, but those were words he'd heard a hundred times already. she instead focused on answering the question. "if there was anything i wish i knew starting out in high school, it would be to not worry about cliques. don't focus on popularity, just do your schoolwork, get good grades, and get out when the time comes," she said.
she knew that was likely rich, coming from her. she herself had been rather popular in high school, but she felt that that popularity had come at a cost. who would she have been if she'd remained true to herself instead of pushing down her weirdness? she might not have ever become a cheerleader, but she would've been joyce either way. that was something she wished she could have gone back and told herself. hindsight was twenty/twenty. "too lame?" she asked, glancing over at will when she was done reminiscing.
Will watched as the stranger walked off. He didn't think his question was so strange, but he supposed some people just didn't like to talk. When she gripped his shoulder, Will turned to Mom with a weary smile. If this was going to be one of her big Joyce Byers pep talks about people rejecting themselves when they reject you or something, he was primed to promise her it wasn't that big of a deal.
"Mom--" he started, but fell quiet when she continued to speak. He an eyebrow as she studied him, resisting the childlike urge to wiggle out of her grip in case someone saw him and--what? Figured out he had a mother? Instead, he offered her an amused smile, nodding along as she dispensed the most mom advice ever.
"Are you just saying that because you know I won't be popular?" he laughed, hoping he could undercut her 'teachable moment' with a thread of humor. "Because it's really okay, I don't think I want to be." Jonathan had helped him figure out as much, way back in elementary school. Bowie wouldn't be popular if he lived in Hawkins, Indiana.
"It's not lame-- it's just... like, every parent says that," Will told her, although he was acutely aware that his mom was far from 'every parent.' He'd seen her do things he would never be capable of doing himself, recognized the fire behind her eyes of someone who was fed up with being pushed around. If Will was being really honest, he admired her almost as much as he did Jonathan.
El had been hovering near the school supply booth for a minute too long, pretending to study a rack of neon pink folders that hurt her eyes. She wasn’t sure if she wanted college-ruled or wide-ruled notebooks. Did she even care? Did it matter? Mostly, she was stalling. The party was louder than she’d expected, and when she realized just how many people she didn't recognize, she hadn’t worked up the nerve to say hi yet. How was she going to make friends at school if she couldn't even say hi?
Then she heard him. Will. It was gentle, familiar, and maybe it was a little embarrassing to cling to the people she did know, especially lived with. He was talking to someone, but that had never stopped El before. She hesitated as she crossed over to the booth.
"Max said to avoid the cafeteria fish sticks," she announced, a little too abruptly. "That they are made of sea monsters," she deadpanned. Not that she actually believed they were sea monsters, she wasn't quite so gullible. And the sea monsters comment was enough to make whoever Will was talking to walk away.
El plopped down on the curb beside him and laid her back onto what little patch of grass was behind them. "This sucks," she groaned, draping her forearm across her eyes. If El hated the crowds and being around classmates, she had a hunch that Will felt the same. She didn't want to complain much. This was the freedom El craved and wanted. She couldn't go back on her word now. "And Hubert does not like me," she said. The mentee she had been assigned was some crater-faced bug of a boy.
"You might like him. He's..." she trailed off, trying to find the proper words that both made sense and wouldn't offend Will. "...Lame?"
"Sea monsters?" Will repeated, incredulous as he turned to look at El. Sometimes Max would make jokes that went over El's head and she'd mistranslate them-- like that one time Max said Mr. Finkle's "bad eye" was actually a camera used by the government to spy on them. El had come home convinced there were Russians in Hawkins, and Will had to pull out Mom's encyclopedia to explain what a prosthetic was. "What does that mean?"
He welcomed a break from talking to customers, and Will crouched down into a seated position next to El. He patted her knee, glancing around the crowd in hopes he'd spot one of their friends. "Yeah," he admitted. It was mostly adults this early in the day, and he guessed Mike was running late or something.
The back to school bash was the kind of thing everybody ended up coming to-- not because there was a ton to do here, but because it shut down most other businesses in Hawkins-- so it ended up being a sweaty mass of people milling around the same one-mile stretch of main. It was way more fun when they were kids, and ducking between booths unsupervised was, like, the epitome of summer freedom. "Did you see Max already?" he prodded, reserving a comment about how much time they were spending together lately. Not like he had any space to judge, even if he wanted to.
"Oh, Hubert's your--" Will started, jaw dropping in fake offense at El's conclusion. "You haven't even started high school and you already think I'm lame?" he joked, tucking a hand behind his head and stretching out in the grass next to his sister. "What makes Hubert so lame?"
Max dug into her pocket, eventually producing a quarter and a dime and sliding it across the table to Will, "Can you set aside a notebook and two folders for me? I didn't bring a bad or anything." Odds Max would see Will again before the day came to an end, outside of the block party? Likely.
"If I told you, it wouldn't really be secret." Max pointed out, and offering in the same breathe, "But if you're ever having a bad day, let me know and I'll show you." It had taken three years of trial and error, but Max had found her perfect spot, and just in time for senior year, too. She had no problem sharing it with Will, but she'd have to make him vow to never tell Mike. The thought alone of Mike Wheeler showing up to her ditching sanctuary made her skin itch. No risks.
She burst into laughter as Will revealed he got partnered up with a freshmen for their focus day, "Wait, seriously? You've never even been to high school." It wasn't a dig, just truly astonishing. "I don't think I got paired with anyone. Either they think I'm a bad influence, or I didn't get the memo." Max was unaffected by either possibility.
It wasn't lost on her Will mentioned his nerves and she didn't want to fuss, or outright ask him how he was feeling. But Max still wanted to know, so instead she began by taking a positive route, "What are you most looking forward to?"
"Yeah, definitely," Will nodded, tucking the coins into the money bag he'd ben left in charge of. He already knew he was going to slip her some of the nice gel pens too, and if she asked, he'd say his mom insisted. "Uh.. any color preference?" Will asked, glancing at the notebooks. It didn't seem like the kind of thing Max would particularly care about, but sometimes her and Mike's opinionated streaks reared in the places Will least expected. Better to be safe than sorry!
"I guess that's fair," Will compromised, gleam in his eye at this distinctly Max version of tenderness. He doubted the offer extended to the rest of the party except El. Maybe Lucas, if they weren't fighting. "You know my mom's working there now? At school?" Will asked. "I hope your spot's really good."
That was the other thing about Max-- as quick as she was to poke fun at everybody else, he'd never once felt like she was making fun of him, not even now. Will threw his hands out in a shrug, "I know. I don't know what I'm supposed to tell this poor kid-- join a club? What clubs? I don't know any clubs other than Hellfire." He huffed, half-laughing, and shook his head in agreement with Max, "You're lucky."
Will turned his attention back to the table, sorting pens this time as he considered Max's question. They had a sort of unspoken mutual agreement not to pry-- Will had seen how the Hawkins moms descend on Max like a wild horde, desperate to help that poor girl-- and Max had likely seen the same with him. "I guess just seeing everyone every day. And like... getting all the jokes. Not having to be told stuff after the fact, you know?"
Nancy didn't like to think that she was avoiding the Melvald's booth, but rather, that she was waiting until the right time to stop by. With a certain member of the Byers family's whereabouts unknown, she'd found herself at the top and bottom of Main Street more times than she'd like to admit while she waited. When she was sure and certain it was only the youngest Byers brother at the booth, Nancy finally sucked in a breath and decided to approach.
"Hey, Will," she greeted, about to ask if his mom was around, or if he was excited for the start of senior year, before Will had a question of his own for her.
The Nancy Wheeler that existed back in freshman year of high school was unrecognizable from the one that stood in front of him now. Eight years ago, she'd never dreamt of leaving Hawkins, nor would she believe half of the things both she and Will had seen. Her old self probably would've placed her bets on not even making it this far; the belief in herself only a consequence of the things they'd survived along the way.
"Something I wish I knew as a freshman," she echoed. Nancy could deliver a whole laundry list if she thought hard enough, but there was just one that she truly believed every teenager should hear, one she was certain would resonate with Will, too. "Expect the unexpected. I hope you don't need me to elaborate on that one," Nancy added with a knowing smile. "Gathering all your best advice before you have to give it?"
"Hey, Nancy," he smiled, lips pulled tight by the hint of guilt he still couldn't help but feel. Breakups were hard enough, he assumed, without having to see your ex's little brother in your own house all the time. Despite Mike's assurance that it was fine, Will had been doing his best to stay out of Nancy's path-- besides, it's not like Mike was exactly known to everyone else for his sensitivity.
Will was relieved that Nancy seemed to be taking his question seriously. He supposed, out of everyone else he knew, she was the classic mentor figure. Straight A's, college scholarship, studying abroad-- maybe Will could connect his freshman to Nancy instead; She might be more useful.
Her answer, unexpected but undeniably true, prompted an airy laugh. "Yeah... that's a good one." Though he hoped none of the freshmen would learn that the hard way. Will sighed, twisting his lips into a half-frown at the idea of sitting across from a thirteen-year-old and acting like he had any advice about high school. "They're making us do this... mentorship thing. For the freshmen," Will explained, pressing his hands flat on the tabletop. "And it's not like... I don't have a problem with doing it. I just... don't know anything about high school."
As much as she didn't want to take care of it, Max needed new school supplies. A couple of folders and a notebook should do the trick for the first few weeks, so off to Will and the Melvald's booth she went. She drummed her fingers against the table of the booth as she watched Will shuffle the products around according to...color? "How much is everything going for?" She asked, now folding her arms. It was a sore point, all the scrimping and saving she'd become accustomed to, but Max knew that Will of all people wouldn't make fun of her if she ended up fifty cents short or something.
The following question caught Max off-guard, brows twisting downward in consideration. If she could go back to the Fall of '85 and tell her Freshman self anything it would probably be to expect the worst out of the school staff? Maybe she'd tell fourteen year old Max to take the GED and save herself the growing pains of high school. But none of that seemed like advice to share with Will, who had his first week of high school looming. "I wish I knew that they always check under the bleachers first when you're not in class. I could've saved myself detention, for sure." Though Max doubted Will Byers had big plans of ditching.
She occupied her hands by picking up a stack of folders and tapping them into the tabletop, "Why are you asking? Nervous?" Max didn't want to presume anything, but if she were in Will's situation? Yeah, she'd be a nervous wreck.
Will pointed to the paper-bound notebooks and rattled off the prices, "A quarter, the leather ones are like two bucks." -- Which he knew was a waste of money, even if Will wanted something nicer to draw in. "They're doing a utensils package for fifty cents and folders are five cents a piece."
Someone else might've pointed out that the school supply drive was starting tomorrow, but Will hesitated. Growing up, there was nothing more embarrassing than going to those things and getting the same black-and-white notebooks that everyone knew came from the drive. It was such a stupid thing for kids to care about, but Troy and his friends never hesitated to point it out. Will used to scrounge up loose coins off the arcade floor to buy new stuff just to avoid their teasing.
His mouth quirked upwards at Max's answer. It was so... Max. "Okay, noted," Will said, though he doubted he'd be passing off that little tidbit to his mentee. He didn't want to be a square or anything, but it's not like he wanted to encourage skipping either, especially not with his mom at the front desk. Ugh. "So do you have a secret hiding spot?" Will asked, more out of curiosity than a desire to join her.
"Oh-- no," Will started, then corrected himself, "Well, kind of. But I guess we're doing this... Freshman Focus day?" He sucked on his teeth, hoping the whole thing wouldn't be as painful as it felt. "I think they're pairing seniors with freshmen to give tips or whatever. Did you get one?"
who: will byers & open!
where: back to school block party!
There were a lot of things to be worried about heading into senior year. For one, Will was already bracing himself for the same kind of torment he got in middle school. Sure, Lucas was popular now and Will at least had the Hellfire Club to fall back on in the friend category, but that didn't change his status as homeschooled-zombie-boy-freak. On top of that, Mom had just gotten an administration job at Hawkins High, which she swears is just a good opportunity-- but bring-your-mom-to-school day wasn't likely to score him any cool points, either. Not that Will particularly cared about being cool-- he mostly just wanted to be left alone.
Then they sent the letter home about Freshman Focus day, and assigned Will a freshman to mentor. He was more than a little panicked about this-- what the hell could he possibly tell an incoming freshman that would have any merit? Don't bike home at night? If you start seeing visions, tell someone because you might be possessed? Will sighed, hoisting a box of school supplies onto the folding chair behind the Melvald's booth and beginning to sort the notebooks according to color. Jonathan had stepped away for a smoke break, and Will didn't think any of his friends were here yet, so he didn't mind finishing the setup.
When a potential customer looked his way, Will offered a gentle smile, dropping his hand onto the table and smoothing out the forest green tablecloth. "Hi!" he greeted, watching them for a moment before asking, "Can I ask you sort of a weird question?" Will decided to go for it, desperate for any piece of wisdom he could dispense to his mentee on Saturday. "What's something you wish you knew as a freshman?"
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