Byler one shots

35

There were so many better things Will could have been doing other than sitting on his family’s couch, pouting his entire day away. Will had been staying at home, going between his room, the kitchen, and the living room for longer than he was willing to admit. He had nowhere else to be. No one else to see. Summer before going to high school and he was spending the best weather on his couch, arms crossed and staring at the same few comic books; he didn’t have it in him to bike to the comic book store. He didn’t want to run into anyone.

“Will.” Jonathan also happened to be home more often since he had started working freelance with a local newspaper, which Will wished wasn’t the case. “You can’t sit on the couch again today.”

“Watch me.”

“What? You’re just going to spend your entire summer vacation in our house?” Jonathan laughed, coming in from the kitchen with, strangely enough, a mug of hot tea. Will moved away from the steam, it already making him sweat. “What about the guys? I haven’t seen them in a while! And… what’s her name? Mel? Max! I haven’t seen her and El in ages either!”

“I don’t feel like hanging out today.” Will muttered.

“You say that every day.” Jonathan reasoned, sipping from his mug. “I’m beginning to think you guys had a huge fight.” He laughed into his mug, but Will pursed his lips, trying to keep his story to himself. Jonathan waited for Will to laugh too, to deny the joke, but his silence made Jonathan take a long, awkward sip of his tea. “Oh.”

“I don’t really want to see them right now.” Will said, sighing. “I’m mad at Mike.”

“Mike? What happened there?” Jonathan asked, quickly leaning forward to put his mug on the coffee table. “I thought you guys were going really well!”

“I thought so too.” Will said softly, picking at his shirt hem.

“What happened? Talk to me.” Jonathan said, placing a hand on Will’s shoulder. “Did he say something to you?”

“No.” Will grumbled.

“Will.” Jonathan said again, nudging his side. “What’s going on?”

Will didn’t want to articulate it to anyone except his reflected grimace over the bathroom sink. He and Mike had all but a screaming match in his basement the other day. Will had experienced a sudden traumatic episode, all of it a hallucination but all of it feeling real all over again. Will had gone to Mike’s house to try and take his mind off the nightmares loitering in his bathroom sink and crawling up to his hands, only to find Mike trying to pick a fight. Mike was short with him, telling him to keep his voice down when he was speaking barely above a whisper. Will hadn’t told Mike why he had come over by the time he started yelling, asking Mike if he was quiet enough for him. It was childish, foolish, and embarrassing. Will didn’t know who he was more upset with, Mike or himself, so he chose punishing himself on the couch in the time it took him to make up his mind.

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” Will said under his breath.

“When’s the last time you talked to Mike?” Jonathan asked, as if trying to suggest that time had healed the wound already.

“Uh…” Will had to think about it. It was August. Last time he spoke to Mike was within the weeks following the last bell he’d hear in Hawkin Middle. “June?”