The Third Wheel Command .

The Weight of the Pencil

I looked out the art room window The Hawkins sky was a taunting clear blue I sighed and tried to focus on the sketch of the woods I was working on but the charcoal felt heavy Every time Carlton leaned in to point out a shadow or suggest a highlight I could practically hear Mike's teeth grinding from through the drywall Then the door didn't just open it was conquered Mike marched in his oversized jacket flapping like a cape He didn't look at the art He didn't look at the teacher He looked at Carlton's hand which was currently resting on the back of my chair

We're leaving Mike announced No 'hello,' no 'how's the painting Just a command disguised as an observation I'm not finished Mike I said keeping my voice steady even though my heart was starting that familiar panicked rhythm The road to the Quarry is going to be packed if we don't get ahead of the high schoolers Mike said stepping into my personal space He smelled like the Wheeler basement and cheap cologne he'd clearly borrowed from Nancy to try and compete with Carlton's woodsy scent It was overwhelming

Carlton finally spoke up tilting his head Hey Mike We were actually in the middle of a critique It's kind of important for the portfolio Mike's eyes snapped to Carlton I saw his hands clench into fists inside his pockets Yeah well the Party is 'kind of important' for life And Will is the Cleric We can't have a session if the Cleric is busy critiquing' shades of gray It's charcoal Mike I muttered Whatever Mike snapped his voice cracking just a little a sure sign he was losing his grip on his "cool" facade Are you coming or not Or are you too busy with this He waved a hand dismissively at Carlton but he was looking at me with those big hurt eyes that always made me feel like I was the one doing something wrong It was a trap It was always a trap with Mike Wheeler He didn't want to go to the Quarry He just wanted me to stop looking at someone else

I looked at Carlton's disappointed smile then back at Mike's desperate angry face Five minutes Mike I said defeated Wait by the bikes Mike didn't say thank you He just shot Carlton one last lingering glare the kind that promised a very long very quiet bike ride home and stormed back out He's obsessed with you Carlton said softly once the door clicked shut He's just my best friend I lied The charcoal snapped in my hand