Chapter Text
The first day back at Hawkins High always felt colder than it should.
Will Byers stood at the edge of the parking lot, fingers hooked into the straps of his backpack, staring at the brick building like it might rearrange itself if he waited long enough. The paint was still chipped beneath the tall windows. The front steps still sloped slightly to the left. The flag still caught on the same corner when the wind blew too hard.
Nothing changed in Hawkins.
Except people did.
Laughter burst from somewhere behind him—loud, sharp, familiar. Will didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.
Mike Wheeler’s voice carried above the rest, animated and confident. Dustin’s laugh followed, bright and obnoxious. Lucas said something lower and sarcastic. Max snorted. Erica added something cutting. Even Holly—who had once clung shyly to Mike’s leg at middle school pickup—was tall now, ponytail swinging as she walked with them. Derek and Tina trailed at the edge of the group like satellites trying to stay in orbit.
Will told himself not to look.
He looked anyway.
They were all taller. Broader. Louder. Hawkins High had stretched them into something sharp-edged and self-assured. They moved like they owned the place.
Mike caught sight of him first.
There was a flicker—just a second—where something unreadable crossed his face. Then his mouth curled into a grin.
“Well, if it isn’t Zombie Boy,” Mike called.
Will’s stomach tightened. Same nickname. Same tone. Nothing changed.
Dustin squinted dramatically. “Dude, I thought sunlight turned you to dust.”
“Only if he sparkles,” Max shot back.
Erica folded her arms. “Please. Vampires are cooler than whatever he is.”
Will felt the heat crawl up his neck. He focused on breathing in, breathing out. The asphalt shimmered faintly in the late-summer sun.
“Nice haircut,” Tina added sweetly. “Did your mom use a bowl again?”
A few nearby freshmen laughed nervously, glancing between the groups like they were watching a tennis match.
Will’s hair hadn’t changed in years. He liked it that way. It was safe. Predictable. But under their stares it suddenly felt like a neon sign flashing *different*.
Mike stepped closer. Close enough that Will could see the faint freckle near his collarbone above his T-shirt. Close enough that he could smell laundry detergent and mint gum.
“You excited for senior year, Byers?” Mike asked lightly. “Or are you gonna spend it drawing in the library again?”
Lucas smirked. “He’d have to leave the Upside Down first.”
Holly giggled. Derek echoed it louder than necessary.
Will swallowed. “I don’t bother you.”
There. Quiet. Simple. True.
Mike tilted his head. “You don’t have to.”
Something in his tone made Will’s chest ache in a way the teasing never quite managed. It wasn’t just cruelty. It was distance.
Max nudged Mike’s shoulder. “Come on, Wheeler. We’re gonna be late.”
But Mike didn’t move right away.
His eyes lingered on Will—searching, almost—before he scoffed and stepped back. “Try not to get possessed this year, okay?”
Dustin laughed again, clapping Mike on the back. The group drifted past Will in a cloud of noise and perfume and cologne and familiarity.
Erica paused as she walked by. She looked Will up and down.
“High school eats people alive,” she said matter-of-factly. “You might want to grow a spine.”
Then she was gone too.
Will stood alone in the wake of them.
The bell rang, shrill and echoing across the lot. Students began funneling toward the doors.
He forced his legs to move.
—
The hallways were worse.
Lockers slammed. Shoes squeaked against tile. Someone shouted about football practice. Posters for homecoming were already taped crookedly to the walls.
Will kept his head down, weaving through bodies.
He felt it before he saw it—the way conversation dipped when he passed certain groups. The way eyes tracked him.
It wasn’t always loud. Sometimes it was just whispers.
“Isn’t that—”
“Yeah, the kid who—”
“Freak.”
He reached his locker and twisted the combination with steady fingers. He’d memorized it years ago.
The metal door squealed open.
Inside, taped to the back panel, was a drawing he’d left there at the end of junior year: a small knight standing against a dark, looming shadow. The knight’s sword glowed faintly. The shadow didn’t.
He stared at it for a moment.
“You still draw that nerd stuff?”
Will flinched.
Mike leaned against the locker beside his, arms crossed.
Will hadn’t heard him approach.
“I—” Will shut his locker gently. “It’s not—”
“Not what?” Mike pressed.
The hallway noise seemed to dull around them. Like they were standing in a bubble.
“Nothing,” Will finished.
Mike studied him. His expression wasn’t openly mocking now. It was sharper. Quieter.
“You ever think about just… being normal?” Mike asked.
The words landed heavier than any nickname.
Will felt something crack open behind his ribs. “You used to like my drawings.”
It slipped out before he could stop it.
Mike’s jaw tightened.
“That was middle school,” he said. “People grow up.”
The statement hung there—accusation and defense wrapped together.
Down the hall, Dustin called, “Wheeler! AP Calc!”
Mike didn’t look away from Will immediately.
For a heartbeat—just one—there was something uncertain in his eyes. Something almost regretful.
Then he stepped back.
“See you around, Byers.”
And he was gone.
Will stood there long after the hallway swallowed him up.
*People grow up.*
Maybe that was the problem.
Maybe Will hadn’t.
Or maybe he had—and Hawkins just didn’t know what to do with it.
He slid his backpack higher on his shoulders and headed toward homeroom.
Outside the tall hallway windows, the sky stretched wide and blue over the town. Quiet. Deceptively peaceful.
Hawkins never looked like the kind of place where monsters lived.
Will had learned better.
And as he took his seat at the back of the classroom, feeling the weight of stares and silence and everything unsaid pressing in, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this year—
Senior year—
Was going to change something.
He just didn’t know yet if it would break him first.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
By the second day, Hawkins High had already decided its hierarchy.
And Mike Wheeler sat comfortably near the top.
Will saw him before Mike saw him—leaning against the lockers like he owned the hallway, one foot braced against the metal, laughing at something Dustin was saying. Suzie stood tucked against Dustin’s side. Lucas had his arm hooked loosely around Max’s shoulder. Erica and Tina walked close, fingers intertwined. Holly leaned into Derek while he talked animatedly about basketball tryouts.
They looked solid.
Untouchable.
Will adjusted his backpack and kept walking.
“Byers.”
The word wasn’t loud.
It didn’t have to be.
Will stopped.
Mike didn’t move from his spot against the locker. He just looked at him—slowly, deliberately.
“Didn’t see you at lunch yesterday,” Mike said casually.
“I was there.”
Mike tilted his head. “Really? Huh. Must’ve missed you.”
Dustin snorted.
Lucas didn’t laugh.
Will kept his voice even. “You weren’t looking.”
A faint flicker crossed Mike’s face at that. Gone in a second.
He pushed off the locker and stepped closer—not invading, not touching. Just enough to shift the balance.
“You still carrying that sketchbook around?” Mike asked.
“Yes.”
“You ever think about trying something new?”
“I like drawing.”
Mike hummed. “Yeah. I know.”
It wasn’t soft.
It wasn’t nostalgic.
It was observational. Like he was stating a fact about an old habit.
Max crossed her arms. “We’re gonna be late.”
“In a minute,” Mike said without looking at her.
His attention stayed on Will.
“You’ve got English third, right?” Mike asked.
Will hesitated. “Yeah.”
“They switched the reading list.”
Will blinked. “What?”
Mike shrugged. “Guess you’ll find out.”
A small smirk tugged at his mouth.
“You could’ve just said that,” Will muttered.
“I did.”
“You were being—”
“What?” Mike challenged lightly. “Mean?”
The word hung there.
The hallway felt like it was listening.
Will didn’t answer.
Mike leaned in slightly—not enough to look intimate. Enough to lower his voice.
“You take everything so personally,” he said.
There it was.
Not shouted.
Not laughed.
Just placed carefully.
Dustin shifted awkwardly. “Okay, vibe check—”
“We’re fine,” Mike cut in.
Erica raised an eyebrow. “Define fine.”
Mike ignored her.
He looked at Will again, eyes sharper now.
“You know,” he said casually, “high school’s easier if you stop acting like you’re still twelve.”
The words landed clean.
Will felt it—but he didn’t flinch.
“Maybe,” Will said quietly, “you’re the one acting twelve.”
Lucas inhaled sharply.
Max’s lips pressed together to hide a reaction.
For a fraction of a second, something sparked in Mike’s eyes.
Surprise.
Then interest.
Then it was gone—smothered under arrogance.
He smiled slowly.
“Careful,” he said. “You’re not built for fights.”
There it was.
Cruel enough to sting.
Playful enough to deny.
The bell rang.
Dustin clapped loudly. “Government waits for no man!”
The group started moving.
Mike stepped back with them, but not before adding—
“Don’t be late to English,” he said. “Wouldn’t want you falling behind.”
It sounded like mockery.
It could be read as mockery.
He didn’t wait for a response.
He walked away first.
And everyone followed.
—
Lunch was louder than yesterday.
Will took his seat near the windows again.
He didn’t look at their table.
He didn’t need to.
He could feel it.
Halfway through his sandwich, a tray dropped onto the seat across from him.
Will didn’t look up immediately.
“Relax,” Mike said. “I’m not proposing.”
Will’s head snapped up.
Mike sat back lazily, stretching his arms across the back of the bench like this was amusing.
Across the cafeteria, Dustin was staring openly.
“Dude,” Dustin called. “Pick a table.”
“I did,” Mike replied.
He didn’t look at them.
He looked at Will.
“Why are you here?” Will asked quietly.
Mike shrugged. “You looked lonely.”
The words were blunt.
Embarrassing.
Delivered like a joke.
Will’s face burned. “I’m fine.”
“Sure.”
Mike’s eyes flicked to the sketchbook sticking out of Will’s bag.
“You still drawing that knight thing?”
“Yes.”
“Obsessed much?”
Will slid it out anyway. “Why do you care?”
“I don’t.”
Mike reached for it before Will fully handed it over.
He flipped through the pages casually—too casually.
The knight stood against the shadow again.
Mike stared at it a beat longer than necessary.
His jaw shifted.
“That shadow looks familiar,” he said lightly.
Will’s throat tightened. “Does it?”
“Yeah.” Mike handed the sketchbook back. “It’s dramatic.”
He leaned forward slightly.
“You always did like making me the villain.”
It was said with a smirk.
Like a joke.
Like something harmless.
But it wasn’t entirely.
Across the cafeteria, Erica said something to Tina. Max was watching carefully now. Lucas looked tense.
Mike noticed.
He leaned back again, arrogance sliding firmly back into place.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he added. “You’re the one who started it.”
The fight.
They never said what it was about.
They never needed to.
Will swallowed. “You know that’s not true.”
Mike’s expression hardened—just slightly.
Then he stood up.
“Believe what you want,” he said lightly, grabbing his tray.
He hesitated for half a second.
Barely visible.
Then:
“Try not to skip meals,” he muttered.
It was quiet.
Almost annoyed.
Like he didn’t want to be saying it.
Then louder, with a smirk:
“See you in English, Byers.”
And he walked back to his table.
The group absorbed him instantly. Dustin demanded answers. Max nudged him. Erica looked suspicious.
Mike brushed them off with a lazy grin.
Like it meant nothing.
Like sitting there had been entertainment.
Like Will was just something to poke at between classes.
But from across the cafeteria—
Mike’s gaze drifted back once.
Only once.
And when Will looked up—
Mike was already pretending he hadn’t.