BEST OF YOU, stranger things | will byers

𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕖𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥

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THE LAST FEW MONTHS OF SCHOOL WERE HELL FOR MILES MURPHY. Veronica had told the entire school that he was gay and every corner he turned it felt like he could hear someone whispering about how they'd heard all about him, whatever that was supposed to mean. The party all seemed to assume he wasn't gay and told him to ignore them but that was hard to do when you'd come home with a black eye and busted lip every week.

So when summer began, Miles was relieved to say the least. The boy spent nearly every day with Will, whether it was just them or they were with the rest of the party. Though it was hard to get everyone together; two spots seeming to be constantly empty. Mike and Eleven, like Will and Miles, have been inseparable, though they chose to spend all their time away from the rest of the party; Mike insisting they needed to spend more romantic time together. The thought made Miles want to throw up in his mouth.

Of course, Will wasn't always available, he obviously had a life outside of his friends. So, when Will wasn't available, he was at Scoops Ahoy, eating unlimited ice cream with Steve since he got the job in early June just after Dustin left for camp. The older teen worked with a girl around Steve's age; Robin Buckley. Robin was super cool and Miles made friends with the girl quickly.

Miles's dad was the same; a burnt out drunk who never made time to do anything but yell at his son and drink himself into oblivion. The man had heard about what the kids were saying at school, and he didn't even care that he was getting the shit beat out of him at school, only becoming angry at the mere idea of his son being -in his words- a fucking fag. The man told him that if he ever caught him doing any of the actions people said he did he would beat his ass, but what really scared Miles was that he'd said it as if what he'd been proposing was much worse than anything he's ever done. Yet the boy still cared for his father, clearly more than he had ever cared for Miles. The boy was naturally nurturing and had always put others before himself. He always had this nagging at the back of his head that told him if he didn't do all the things he did, they'd all leave him.

He still thought about Bob constantly, feeling such overwhelming guilt every time he did, it felt like it was clawing at him from the inside out. He'd lay awake at night, replaying the scene over and over in his head until he cried himself to sleep, and then he'd get up the next day, plaster on a smile and pretend like everything was okay.

And he'd suppose for the most part he was okay, things could be worse right?

He kept his mind occupied to distract himself from falling into a spiraling mess of emotions he didn't want to feel. So, he slept over at Will's, or went to Scoops with Steve, and on the off days when neither of those were an option he'd find himself with Max Mayfield, their opposing personalities coming together to form a very close friendship from the start.

Max and Lucas were dating but unlike Mike and El, they weren't constantly worrying about swapping spit with the other. On the days that Miles and Max would hang out the girl had been trying to teach Miles how to skateboard. After about two months and numerous injuries that ended with Miles nearly fainting at the sight of his own blood, he was able to roll down the street without falling.

As they'd done so many times before, the party (minus El since she wasn't allowed outside of Hopper's cabin) were at the mall, waiting for Mike so they could go see Day of The Dead. The group stood by the front entrance of the mall while Miles sat with his back propped against the nearest brick wall next to Will, tying and uniting his white converse as he waited, not noticing the boy next to him watching him with an amused and slightly dazed expression.

Their attentions were both drawn up as they heard Lucas' voice, "You're late."

Miles jumped to his feet, grabbing Will's hand as he helped him to to his feet, ignoring the heat that seemed to travel from his hand to his face, painting itself in red across his cheeks.