"Blue?"
Hawkins Middle School, situated politely in the Roane County School District, seemed like a rather simple place to navigate if you had any semblance of an idea as to where you were going. The halls were covered in polished green paint, floors tiled in colours that didn't clash. The school wasn't even overly large, if anything, it was a bit undersized for the amount of students that attended it. The classrooms were pretty straightforward, and the washrooms were even easier to discover. The only problem Will found, and the most significant problem that he could face in such a situation, was that he was entering the school as though he had never seen it before in his entire life.
"That's what you're gonna call him?"
In reality, the school board hadn't expected Will to return to his studies for at least another week, presuming that he was on bed rest, or not even released from the hospital yet. There had been nobody telling the boy that he had to be at school that morning except himself, something he was sure he would never have done before his accident. He didn't know where else he could preoccupy himself however, that wasn't his home.
He didn't hate being at his house, rather, he hated feeling trapped there. If anything, Will took a bit of comfort in the fact that the things he was surrounded with in his own bedroom were traits, facts and signals of the boy he was before everything turned blank inside his brain. He could look at his race car sheets and know that he found that cool, that the designs had caught him. He could look at his sketchbook and understand that he liked to draw, liked to colour even more than draw. He'd even thrown a sketchbook and several coloured pencils in his bag that morning to keep himself busy at school before he escaped out the front door. Jonathan had been waiting patiently in the driver's seat of their dark green Ford Pinto, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel to the soft hum of music coming from the car's built in radio.
Will found that Jonathan looked strikingly similar to Joyce already in his facial features, but the drowsiness that seemed to swarm over their entire household only enhanced this. They were both tired, both in need of a solid sleep and a load off of their chests. It made them look almost identical, if only briefly in Will's eyes.
Will was handling the pain of everything in a different way, taking it with pursed lips and a firm grip and not letting it destroy him yet. He had hope. Whether it was pointless or not to cling to it, he hadn't decided yet. But he wanted to remember, wanted so desperately to remember that he wouldn't mind if it was the last thing he did. If it would take the pain out of his mother's eyes, he wouldn't mind at all.
"Earth to Will?"
-
Lifting his head from the small Tupperware container in front of him, Will Byers tore his gaze away from the crust of his sandwich that he had hastily been picking apart. He had been spacing, he knew this, and he took a moment to glance around the heavily crowded cafeteria as he regained his sense of where he was. The students hadn't been on lunch break very long, maybe fifteen minutes at best. He'd been so lost in thought about that morning that he had completely zoned out Lucas and Dustin as they sat before him.
"Sorry" Will mumbled in an embarrassed half-apology.
"I mean, I personally don't get it" Dustin spoke up as though he'd been waiting silently to comment, resting an elbow on the table as he watched Will pick at his food. In front of Dustin was a juice pack, open and half empty, but he didn't seem to have anything to snack on. He didn't appear to be too bothered by this. "Then again, I can remember what his name is" Dustin carried on, shooting a distasteful look at Lucas as the boy gave him a solid kick underneath the table.
Will's brows raised only slightly as he observed the two of them, not exactly clueing into the fact that he'd spoken his shabby nickname for the dark hair boy out loud. When he realized this, however, his face flushed a bright pink and he turned his attention back down towards his food. He wasn't going to touch it any longer, but it was better to look at something that wouldn't catch on to his embarrassment.
"It's all I've got" Will pressed, returning to look up at Lucas once he felt like the tone in his cheeks had begun to dissipate. Will slid the cover of his container out from underneath it and snapped it into place over the opening, letting out a long sigh as though he'd been keeping it held in for hours.
"I can't just call him 'the asshole who won't tell me his name', can I?" Will grumbled as he reached up a small hand, snatching his sandwich container off of the table and twisting towards the back of his chair to slide it into his bag. He could have pretended like he was irritated about the whole situation more than he truly was, but he knew that it likely wasn't going to get him anywhere.
If the boy didn't want to tell him who he was, to leave Will to figure it out on his own as if he had perfect control over his own mind, then Blue is who this boy would become. Blue is what he had given him and Blue he would be. As Will zipped up the front of his backpack, he could hear Dustin let out a laugh from behind him.
"It's a little long if you ask me" Dustin spoke, waiting until Will had twisted back around and rested his elbows on the table before continuing his sentence. "He can be a bit of an asshole, though. That's just---" Dustin paused, as though he was trying to figure out where he was going with his sentence. Will caught on to what he was doing immediately, silent frustration nipping at him like unkempt flames.
"That's just Blue" Dustin finished through a bleak sigh, giving Will an apologetic look before he picked his juice box up from the lunch table, sipping it as though it would keep him from saying anything else. The name sounded just as irregular coming out of Dustin's mouth to Will as the concept of what the boy's real name might be.
"He's taking it out on me" Will said abruptly, running his pointer finger over a small scratch that scarred the table top like an old wound as he felt a twinge of guilt simmer deep down inside the pit of his stomach. "You know, I get it, I guess but..." Will murmured, his sentence trailing off as he sat for a moment to consider. He hated the idea that this was his fault, even if technically, it was entirely of his own doing. If he hadn't ridden his bike home that evening as he'd been told, if he even walked it home instead he might have ended up in a completely different circumstance than the one he was in now: the one where half of him felt like it was missing. He didn't want to be like this. Blue knew that, right? He had to.
From across the table, out of the corner of Will's eyes, he noticed Lucas shifting a bit forward in his seat. "It's not fair, though. He doesn't need to take this out on you. We aren't" Dustin announced in a rather sour tone.
"We aren't him, though" Lucas interrupted suddenly, catching the attention of the two boys as he spoke. Dustin, lips falling closed, went silent in response, like a solid point had just been made, a point that went directly over Will's head. Will eyed the boy sitting across from him curiously, as though what he Lucas said was spoken in confidence, even if it didn't really resonate with him. He couldn't see how Blue was all that different from his other two friends, how his suffering seemed to have more of a hard core to it. By the way that Blue seemed to be taking this, entirely different in comparison to the two boys that sat across from him, Will imagined that they must have been closer than he could remember, which wasn't saying much. It still stung the small boy, however: the way that Blue had looked when Will had admitted that he didn't remember how to play the game the evening before, like a child that was trying to keep from crying after scraping his knees.
He wanted to feel for Blue, somewhere deep down he did. He just didn't know how to feel for someone he didn't know.
Regardless of the fact that Will had been excepting to see all three of the boys at lunchtime, Blue was nowhere to be seen. Will didn't feel like he'd needed to question Lucas or Dustin about it, only knowing that he would feel nosy in doing so. The two boys might not have even known where he was anyways, and yet Will still felt like he had something to do with his absence. A self centered thought, but a thought that plagued his brain nevertheless. He might have dwelled on this forever if the sound of Lucas' voice hadn't snapped him out of it.
"They're going to start decorating for the Snow Ball" Lucas had mumbled to Dustin as the two boys observed what appeared to be one of the schools' janitors making his way through the gentle hustle and bustle of the lunch room with a long, steel ladder tucked under his left arm and a thin, rolled up banner clutched underneath his right. Will turned towards the direction they were staring in, and watched in a curious silence as the older gentleman propped the ladder up against the doorframe of the cafeteria entrance, beginning to unravel the banner. Pale blue, glittery writing revealed itself in careful paint swipes, spelling out half of what Will decided were the words "Snow Ball".
"The Snow Ball?" Will questioned, watching as the janitor seemed to struggle a tad with the large decoration he was unrolling.
"Just a stupid dance they have every December, before break" Lucas spoke from out of Will's sight as he stared outwards towards the scene in front of him. If the idea of a dance would have piqued Will's interest before, it most definitely did not now. He couldn't imagine the idea of wearing anything more fancy than a dress shirt every now and then, and dancing with someone practically gave him the cold sweats just considering it. He let the statement fall flat from Lucas' mouth.
"Sounds dumb" Will muttered in agreement, tearing his eyes away from Lucas as he scanned the walls of the cafeteria, the overbearing hum of conversation surrounding them was almost too distracting as his gaze settled on the wall clock. There were ten minutes left to the student's lunch break, and Will had been floating through the school like a ghost for both of his first periods, unsure of where to go and not planning on attending even if he could recognize the hallways and room numbers like the palm of his hand. He'd gotten several stares when he had arrived that morning, and he was almost positive that his teachers knew he was in the building. Nobody had come looking for him, however. He prayed that it would stay this way.
Before Will could open his mouth to suggest that he should escape the cafeteria before the bell sounded, though, he was interrupted by the slam of a fist against the table top, causing the three boys to jump just slightly in their seats like frightened animals.
"Morning, freaks" a low yet childish voice hissed from behind Will's head, causing him to cringe slightly as he leaned forward in his seat. He didn't have the guts to turn around and look right up into the face of whoever was standing behind him, and as he peered across the table at the two boys sitting with him, he could make a solid assumption that turning around most definitely would not be a good idea. Will could feel his heart beginning to thump in his chest, his fingers pressing a little too hard against the palm of his hand as he listened to the figure behind him clear his throat.
"What do you want, Troy?" Lucas
"Where's frog face today?" Troy chided from behind Will, virtually ignoring Lucas as his thin hand laid flat on the table. Will imagined he was surveying the three of them like a predator eyeing it's prey. "Did he bump his noggin too?" he continued, a giddy and overly enthusiastic laugh escaping his mouth as though he thought his crude joke was the funniest thing he'd heard in a while. Will found himself almost involuntarily turning inwards, his eyes averted to the face of the table as Troy continued to poke fun at them. He couldn't pin point the familiar sound of the boy's voice, but the feeling that his words were giving him wasn't too distant of a memory: the self deprecating sting of his teasing caught Will easily. It took the boy a moment to understand what Troy was suggesting, but when he did, he felt a slow burn of irritation building in his throat, almost suffocating him in a way that he didn't expect. The words slipped out of the Will's mouth before he could think to stop himself, immediately knowing that he was going to regret it in some shape or form.
Troy was talking about Blue.
"Why don't you shut up?" Will snapped suddenly, twisting back towards where Troy was standing, but not before catching the look of absolute fear that had dawned on Lucas' face. This told him enough, before anything else, that he was about to pay the price for what he'd said. Will could feel his heart thudding hard inside his chest as he looked upwards at Troy, taking note of the fact that nothing physical about the boy was overtly intimidating. Dark haired with deeply set, dark eyes to match, Troy stared down at Will with a look which seemed to be a mix of surprise and anger, like Will had just given him a good, solid punch to the nose.
"What did you just say?" Troy hissed in a low tone, as though his only intention was for Will to hear him. Will felt as though his throat was ready to slam shut, staring into the eye of a boy who looked like he wouldn't mind getting detention for busting open Will's face. He didn't know why he spoke, why he decided that he needed to say something. He could have stayed silent, let it pass like his friends. Something inside of him had felt like he'd been jabbed a little too hard when Troy had spoken about Blue, however. For whatever reason, he couldn't ignore it. He'd gotten himself into this situation, and if he was going to put his head into the lion's jaws, he may as well yank a tooth while he was in there.
"I said----"
Will didn't have any time to reiterate himself before Troy reached out and snatched the collar of Will's jacket at what felt like lightning speed, yanking the boy towards him. Will's hand shot out and grabbed onto the edge of the table before he could feel his chair tip over, his eyes growing wide as though he thought he was about to go face first into the floor. Pressing closer to Will's face, Troy's expression held a vicious sneer that practically spoke for itself: say it again, Will, it said. Say it again and I'll cut your tongue out.
It was here that Will understood why Lucas had looked at him like he was looking at a dead man. Troy wasn't scary because he was bigger: he was scary because he didn't care if he had to hurt someone to prove himself.
Troy's gaze tore away from Will after only a moment of confrontation, taking in the sight of the janitor who had stopped what he was doing and was peering over towards the boys' table. Troy's brows furrowed, as though he had been greeted by some rude interruption, and he released Will's jacket from his grasp, watching in disdain as the small boy slid back into his seat. Will stared at Troy only briefly before averting his eyes like a kicked dog. Mere moments before he was mentally preparing himself to get a good hook to the side of his face, and now he was cowering in front of his two best friends like the courage had been zapped right out of him.
"You three better watch it. Especially you" Troy growled from behind Will's back, giving the boy one last ignorant shove into the edge of the table before he rounded the corner and made his way back towards the cafeteria's exit. The gentle sound of footsteps drifting away from the boys' seats was a much needed relief for Will, and he let out a short exhale, turning his gaze upwards at Lucas and Dustin. From the way they were looking at him, Will would have sworn they'd just watched him grow another head and breathe fire. For several moments that felt like hours, Will thought they were going to sit in silence forever.
"That was awesome" Dustin whispered abruptly, turning his gaze from Will to Lucas. The two boys stared at each other for only a moment before crumbling into a fit of laughter, their voices nearly drowned out by the sound of conversation echoing through the room. Will stared at the two, unable to contain himself as he erupted into giggles as well, the pure adrenaline of the situation beginning to die down. He was petrified, scared that he was going to have to explain to his mother under what circumstance he was granted fresh bruises on his face. But Dustin was right.
It was awesome.
-
The old Will Byers liked to draw. But the new Will Byers loved to draw.
Of course, it was likely that he had adored it the entire time and the almost cathartic experience he was having was just something regular. After the bell had rung signaling that it was time for everyone to head back to their classes, Lucas and Dustin had drifted out of the cafeteria with the rest of the crowd, sparing waves as they disappeared into the massive shuffle of students and leaving Will to try and figure out where he should go next. Class still seemed like a desperate reach to him, and not knowing which classes he even needed to be in, Will had wandered the hallways until he came across a universally familiar sight: the school library. He'd entered, head down as though he knew this was not the place for him to be, but found gratitude in the fact that, though the librarian had clearly noticed him coming in by himself, she didn't say a word to him about it.
Will had made his way into the first isle that he saw, not really checking to see what genre he was browsing as his soft hazel eyes scanned the rows upon rows of books that sat in front of him. Lifting a hand as he came across what he was looking for, Will's fingers ran along the spine of a thick but well worn encyclopedia. He imagined that the pages between the two covers must have been yellowed with time at that point, bent and dog tagged from years of use. He didn't exactly mind this, and even thought that such a fact gave the book more character. He tugged it off of the shelf, bracing a hand underneath as the sheer weight of the book thudded into his palm.
He didn't really care what the book looked like on the inside, anyways: he wasn't going to be reading it.
Tucking the weighted book underneath his right arm, Will shot a look back over towards the librarian's desk to ensure that she was preoccupied before he slunk through the isle and out towards the back corner of the library, hidden between the abundance of bookshelves. It wasn't that he didn't find the idea of sitting at the tables favourable: rather, he knew he was already pushing his buttons by skipping out on class. He didn't need for the librarian to have another reason to want to boot him out of there, especially if he wasn't there to work.
Will draped his jacket carefully against the slightly dusty tile flooring and eased himself down onto the floor, crossing his legs in front of him and inching back a bit so that he was tucked right into the corner. He liked this angle: nothing could surprise him, and he could hear anyone coming in advance if he had to pretend like he was doing some research. Pulling the large encyclopedia up onto his lap, Will rested a hand on top of the aging cover as he dug his other hand into his backpack. Pulling out his sketchpad first, Will set it gently on top of the book and proceeded to dig out his coloured pencils.
He'd decided that morning that he loved the drawings that were encased in his sketchbook, subtle hints at who he was and what he liked to draw. Will had considered that thoroughly, and, as he had ripped the pieces out carefully by their glued seam, he had decided he would keep them as a reminder of who Will Byers was. They felt like inked clues to him, a delicate piece of his history that he needed to keep around. History wasn't meant to be repeated, though, was it?
So he had ripped them out.
Will stared down at the blank, stark white piece of paper that was turned up in front of him. Clutching one of his coloured pencils between his fingers, Will gazed at the paper and willed it to give him an idea. He wanted to draw something that was important to him, but this was the problem. The dividing line between important and unimportant was fuzzy now, and he had a hard time differentiating what he had claimed as either. Everything was both, and neither at the same time.
Staring down at the sheet, Will glanced over to his colours as he attempted to rack his brain for something, anything to inspire him. Rainbow hues graced his vision, granting him almost nothing to go on. Pressing his tongue against the roof of his mouth in frustration, Will returned his stare to the page in front of him and poised the pencil he'd snatched from the bunch. If anything, he needed to have his name on the paper. He readied his hand and began tracing out the letters of his name at the top right corner in blue coloured pencil.
His hand froze.
Will hadn't had much to go on in the first place, and turning to the idea of his friends almost seemed worse than nothing. He hardly knew the three boys anymore, hardly knew Dustin and Lucas let alone the boy who wouldn't tell him his name. Blue.
What did Will see him as? A stranger, or somebody he could imagine being friends with at one point? Being best friends with? The idea that this boy wanted to keep himself so hidden made Will nauseous, confused and conflicted and unable to understand why the boy wouldn't want him to know who he was, who he had been. Will paused.
Maybe that was why he hadn't told him: because he wanted him to figure it out. However unfair, however impossible it felt to Will, the concept itself sat.
Blue didn't want Will to not know him. He likely wanted the opposite.
Will began to draw, considering every fine line that he made as he stared down at the paper before him. He wanted to know Blue, to know who he was not by the colour that he had worn or the freckles that dotted his cheeks or the stupid grin he got on his face whenever he spoke to Lucas and Dustin, the same grin they probably had once shared. Will wanted to know Blue for who he was without such a stupid nickname, such a stupid colour. Blue lines crisscrossed on the page in front of him, tracing out features and identifiable traits that Will could draw from memory, as poor as his was.
He drew Blue.
I will remember, Will thought. I will remember if it's the last thing I do.