🚲Behind That Fake Smile💔ZodiacTheSpringer

Twenty

Will's POV

I was completely convinced I was in a dream the whole ride home. There was no chance that Michael Wheeler would ever kiss me. Only in my imagination!
But there I was: riding home in the dark with the cold air washing over my skin; the faint soft feeling of Mike's lips tingling on mine from only twenty minutes ago.

I was still stunned from the moment. My whole body was stiff as I rode back home to my house. My hands gripped on the handlebars so tightly that they were starting to burn.

I reached my house. I parked my bike against our porch and climbed up the stairs slowly.
I was still deep in thought as I reached the door of the house. So when I found that my Mom was standing there; I almost jumped out of my skin.

"Arghh!" I screamed which would've probably been loud enough to wake neighbours if we had any.

"Where have you been?!" She shouted at me. She had blocked my path into the warm comfort of my home that I could've escaped into to get away from her question. But instead I had to give her my excuse for coming home whilst it was dark outside.

I still remember how she had completely banned me from setting foot outside past dark.

"For a ride." I gave her my dumb lie I had thought up of in only three seconds.

"Where were you really?" She asked me. She still looked furious at me but there was a gentle tone in her voice as she spoke the final word.

I fiddled with my fingers, looking to the ground beside me. I bit down onto my bottom lip, avoiding the question even though I knew she would just ask me again.

"Well?" She said.

"I- uh.." I murmured, giving her a quick glance before I looked back down to the grass. "I was at Mike's house."

"What were you doing there?! Something could've happened and you could've hurt him again!" She was past furious.

"Something did happen." I heard the sudden sound of Jonathan speaking behind me.

I turned to look up at him with my back slouched in fear of him standing behind me.
He instead looked over to Mom with his hands placed on his hips.

Joyce stood in the doorway with a similar pose before she moved away for us to enter.
"Get inside. Go to the lounge. I'll meet you two in there."

***

We had been sitting in the living room for a while.

Jonathan was giving me quick side glances with his hands folded on his lap. I was crouched in my sitting position awaiting my lecture to happen. I could tell Mom was going to burst any second. She hadn't heard from Jonathan yet but she was pacing rapidly with her hand placed on her chin in thought.

I gulped as she stopped to look at me. I fiddled with my fingers once more and avoided her eye contact.

"What happened?" She finally asked Jonathan.

Jonathan went through the whole thing. How Mike had asked about his coma and how I had come out to him as well. He explained it in extremely high detail to the point that I thought he was in my body when it happened.
He then went on to tell Mom how I had suddenly been Vecna'd in the middle of a question that Mike had asked. He told her how I had lifted into the air and how Mike had saved me with my favourite song.

Joyce starred at me the whole time until my brother got to the part that had been replaying in my mind throughout the whole story. The Kiss.

Mom looked to Jonathan; uncertain of what he was saying was actually true or not. Her eyes were wide open as though she had just awoken from a nightmare.

Jonathan stopped the story at that point and Mom sent me to my room without another word; completely expressionless.

I dragged my feet there, disappointed in myself for letting myself leave the house in the first place. It had been a long time since Mom had been mad at me.
Ever since I had gone missing she had gone easy for me; letting the bad stuff slide and supporting me whenever something even slightly had gone wrong that would possibly make me upset.

Now I sat in my room with the possibility of being grounded for disobeying a rule that had been set.
Why did Jonathan need to spy on me. That creep!

I was mad at him! If it wasn't for him: Mom probably would've let things slide like she always did. I scrunched my hands up to make them in fists that I then flung at my wall to make a large bang.

If only. If only. I repeated to myself.

I sat down on my bed with my head tucked close to my knees to look down on my blanket. I really tried to hold back my tears but one managed to roll down my cheek.

What are you doing, Will? I asked myself. Your crying for no reason. You'll end up crying yourself to sleep like every other night. Tonight was meant to be the night you stopped. There's nothing left on your chest that you want to share to anyone.

I pulled back from my knees and rested my head up against the wall where I looked up at the ceiling, trying to prevent anymore tears to leave my face.

I looked towards the large black bag that was poking out of my closet, half unzipped.

I thought about it for a moment. There's always something in that bag that has something entertaining to do.

I lifted myself off of my bed and trotted towards the bag on the tip of my toes.

I unzipped it the rest of the way and begin to flick through all the stuff inside of the bag.

Books. Lenses. Loose paper. Pencils. Games. Balls.

I shuffled it all around, trying to actually find something that would make up my time before I fell asleep.

I finally got to the end of all the items. I was completely convinced there was nothing that would be enjoyable enough to keep me occupied when my sketchbook fell onto of my hand.

It scratched the back of my hand, leaving a spit of blood to start to form inside of the scratch.

I ignored it though and picked up my sketchbook with both of my hands.

Yeah, this could be useful.