"You were never this smart, Byers."
Had anybody else made such a statement towards him, anybody but Lucas, Will might have taken it as an insult. For some reason, however, as the three boys dragged themselves out of their seats and began stuffing the remnants of that day's work and future homework into their knapsacks, Will, at least somewhat, understood what Lucas was trying to say to him. In some way, and he had been able to tell by the dazed look on his professor's face when he'd turned in that session's in-class assignment, Will understood that before everything had happened, he hadn't been all that great when it came to math.
Maybe he hadn't been all that great at school at all, but he was smart and deep down he knew that, too. Will had expected, fully, that going back to school with fuzzy memories rattling around in your brain might be a little bit more than jarring. He hadn't expected that he would be able to focus at all, whether he could remember the remnants of the beginning of the school year and it's teachings or not.
"Hey! I'm not stupid!" Will had cut in quickly, a startled and over exaggerated smile of disbelief flashing across his face as he leaned into Lucas, giving the boy's shoulder a gentle punch. He had been fully prepared to start entirely fresh when it came to school, and though he had needed to do just that like he'd thought, Will found, strangely he might add, that having an entirely fresh canvas of a brain wasn't all that bad when it came to school.
It was like everything clicked more easily now that there was enough space for the puzzle pieces of his classes to fit together, and when he had passed in his assignment that late afternoon, his professor had been surprised to find that Will had almost gotten every single question correct. His only error had been a miscalculation, and even then, he had done the formula entirely spot on besides that minor step.
He had stuffed the papers into his bag without a second thought about it, however, besides a mild pride lingering in his stomach. Will's thoughts were still preoccupied, but he was doing his best to keep his mind drilled into something other than the conversation he and his brother had shared. He was failing miserably at that, but it was the thought that counts.
How do you even approach something like that, he'd asked himself many times through the span of time between when they'd spoken and the few days afterwards, those of which had been plagued with that thought and variations of it. How do you even consider liking somebody? You just know, Jonathan had told him. As if that made any sense at all. As if that didn't just sound like a teasing joke to the younger Byers boy. You just know. Yeah, maybe, he had thought as he packed himself up and teetered off towards the classroom door, trailing just a few steps behind Lucas and Dustin as they discussed dates for their next D&D campaign. Maybe you do just know, Will had thought to himself. But how do you even approach doing something about it once you know?
Will Byers knew. Deep down, he knew. God, he would block it out for as long as he could. That was what he was supposed to do, right?
Right?
"So we're all good for this weekend, right?" Dustin chimed in as the three of them slid out of the classroom door like three bulls in a china shop, impatiently maneuvering so that the three of them could get out practically all at once. "I'm just asking because I don't want to give you any space to flake out on us" Dustin quipped slyly in Lucas' direction, causing the boy to shoot an unimpressed look back at Dustin.
"As if you didn't flake out on us before!" Lucas snapped back, his tone sharp like a razor but harmless, still. Dustin had taken no time to comment something in response but Will found that he drifted back a bit, verbally, hanging halfway out of the conversation as he continued to spin a tight web of thoughts inside of his brain. He was no longer focused on the two boys standing in front of him, playfully bickering about their ditching habits while Will turned inwards. He didn't want to admit to himself that he had been thinking about, well, thinking about what he'd been thinking about. He could barely think about it directly, always skirting around the idea like blocking out the words in his brain might make him forget about it altogether.
It, of course, being the fact that Will Byers liked boys. He physically shook his head, as though that might shake the words out of his brain. It was weird to him, particularly unsettling because if Lucas or Dustin, if Jonathan or anyone else, even boys he didn't know, liked boys, Will couldn't really see a problem in that. It was a problem, though, in him. Will could see the way that people looked at boys who smiled and laughed a little too whole-heartedly with each other, the way other students liked to call stupid or pathetic things names that didn't belong in such a sentence. He didn't know why, but he felt like it was an issue. As if he wasn't already stared at during school hours. As though he wasn't already beat on enough. He could keep it a secret though, couldn't he? His throat practically felt like it was closing over, and inside of his pockets, Will's fingertips pressed into his clammy palms. I like boys, he thought. I like boys. I like a boy and I don't know why but I know it's not right and I know I can't say anything, but have you seen him? Jesus, it's not just me, it can't just be me, it can't just be me, I can't be the only one in love with my best fr—
Will almost stopped in his tracks in the dead centre of the bustling hallway. The word had passed over his thoughts before he could even process it. Choking up even when he wasn't speaking, Will could feel his face lighting up with a faint crimson.
Love. He'd said love. He'd thought it, but it was loud enough as it echoed through his brain that he thought he might have accidentally spoken out loud.
No, he couldn't be in love. Love didn't work that way, right? Will Byers was not in love. It was a crush, a tiny little thing that would go away the moment he met the right girl.
Just like love, this suggestion made his throat catch too. Only this time, it felt horrible.
Will Byers isn't in love, he thought. Will Byers isn't gay. W—
"Will?"
While he had been a little too preoccupied with his thoughts, Will hadn't realized that he'd been completely ignoring Dustin's questioning. Through Will's silence, Dustin had actually twisted around once they had gotten out into the hall to assess Will's response. Truth was, he wasn't exactly sure what he was responding to, but he gave a quiet nod anyways, watching as Dustin's face lit up and he suckered Lucas in the arm, causing the boy to yelp and clutch his arm in protest. "I told you! Bard is an equally important role, and you know it!" Dustin chided as he turned forward once more, sliding his hands deep into the pockets of his khaki pants.
Lucas glanced back at Will, and though he'd expected a sharp look of disapproval headed his way, Lucas instead gave him a sympathetic smile, as though he understood his choice.
"Mr. Paladin will probably agree with me too" Dustin added finally, but before Lucas could twist back around and respond, Will nearly slammed into Dustin's back as the boy stopped abruptly in front of him. Instinctively reaching out and grabbing onto Dustin's shoulder, Will stepped out of the boy's way.
"What?—" he had begun to say, but as he peered in front of Dustin, Will found the need to ask had grown null.
In front of them was a thick wall of students, all crowded around some sort of sight that the three boys couldn't exactly see. There were at least 20 or 30 kids all pressed tightly into a ring, blocking the hallway and turned away from the boys. Lucas had opened his mouth to begin excusing himself through the sea of kids, but he was silenced by the sound of a tussle on the other side of the students. Several of the kids seemed to start cheering on the ruckus that was happening just outside of Will's view, and he would have suggested that the three of them turn around and promptly go the other way if he hadn't heard a familiar voice cry out from the other side of the wall.
"Say it again, freak! I dare you! Is that pipsqueak worth a week of aches and pains?"
Will's blood ran cold. He recognized the voice immediately.
"Guys—" Will began, his voice wavering, but this time, another voice chimed in.
"I—I said," the voice began, stammering but not fearful, "— I said fuck you, Troy!"
Will recognized this voice even better than Troy's. He'd heard that voice almost every single day for the past 3 weeks.
It was Blue.
As though he was the one in the confrontation, Will's fight or flight kicked itself into overdrive. Stepping past Dustin before he could even dart into the crowd himself, Will rushed into the wall of students, shimmying between them and pushing whenever he needed to. He was practically suffocating from the buzz of quips and cheers coming from several of the students, as well as the tight space he was locked into.
He felt a hand slap onto his shoulder, and, whipping around, Will made brief eye contact with Lucas, who had trailed after Will without hesitation. He gave the boy a brief nod of approval, and with that Will twisted back around and continued his way through the sea of bystanders. He had nearly broken the internal surface of the crowd when, almost like a flash of lightening, Troy and his buddy came bursting through the other side at the exact same time, nearly knocking Will and Lucas over as they tore past them. Lucas had instinctively grabbed onto Will's shoulders to keep him from toppling back into him, and when Will had shot a look back at the two boys, Troy had done the exact same, catching wind of Will's cheeks, still faintly bruised and tender.
He merely smiled, a prideful smile as though he was reminiscent of his own handiwork, before disappearing into the crowd of onlookers.
To Will's fear, as he pushed through the rest of the students in front of him, he was sure Troy was smiling at the idea of what he might have done to Blue.
Busting through the last of the kids, Will stopped so hard that Lucas nearly walked straight into him. Blue was on his hands and knees, his head down as though he was trying to catch his breath. Will had opened his mouth to speak but found that nothing came out, and as Blue attempted to bring himself up to his feet, he wobbled weakly, shooting a hand out and grabbing at the floor once more. Lucas squeezed past Will, who seemed to be nothing more than a concrete statue in that moment, and grabbed a hold of Blue's arm, guiding the boy to his feet in steady patience. Blue accepted only as much help as he needed to, as once he regained enough balance to stand straight (or at least semi-straight) he tore his arm out of Lucas' grasp, keeping his gaze locked down onto the ground.
"Y-yeah.... Show's over" Blue hissed at the crowd around him, voice breaking only slightly as he appeared to flinch from the sound of it. A few students began to trickle back which in turn, after several seconds, kicked crowd mentality into gear as the rest of the students scurried away down the hall, shooting nervous or amused glances back at the boy. The knees of his dark pants were coated in a thin layer of dust from the floor, and his left palm was clutching at his nose, twisting away from the boys as he attempted to dodge them.
"Whoa, hey. Dude, just wait" Dustin began, stepping up next to Lucas and Will but receiving nothing more than an irate, dismissive wave. Blue turned his back to them, stepping away and beginning a walk down the hallway as though he had no need to acknowledge them. To Will, watching Blue walk away, in some odd, impatient way, felt like watching the boy slip out of his life for the rest of time. Kicked out of his stupor by this thought, his hand jolted out, grabbing onto Blue's sweater sleeve in a feeble attempt to slow him down.
"Wait" he had begun, tightening his grip on the fabric. "Just let me h—"
"No! I don't need your help, Will! Jesus!" Blue yelped in frustration, whipping his arm away from Will violently as though he'd been zapped. Though he'd succeeded in getting Blue to slow to a stop, Will sensed that he was about to get an earful instead of the calm conversation he'd hoped they could have. Will could feel a subtle dampness against the tips of his fingers, and as he tore his gaze away from Blue and looked down into his open hand, a wave of anxiety washed over him as he spotted the crimson culprit on his skin. Turning his stare back upwards at Blue, Will understood where the blood had come from. The boy's nose was bleeding heavily, trickling down his chin onto his orange and black striped jumper. He must have taken to wiping it away with his sleeve, as Will could spot a matching stain forming on the arm of his sweater.
"I'm sorry, I just—" Will began, physically shying away as he was cut off quickly again.
"Sorry? Sorry for what?" Blue urged in a thin tone, his eyes desperately searching Will's face for some sort of explanation, though the unimpressed look in his gaze might suggest he didn't care what Will might have to say anyways. Will could practically feel himself turning in, but as he opened his mouth to object, Blue piped up once more.
"Do you even know what you're apologizing for? Or are you just saying sorry because you think it's what you're supposed to do?" Blue demanded, his voice just as ripe with upset as it was with irritation. Will could sense that the anger wasn't entirely directed to, or because of him, but there was something in Blue's voice that suggested he wasn't only angry about his injuries. He placed his sleeve frantically to his nose for a moment, tipping his head back, his eyes gazing up at the ceiling as if he might find an explanation there.
"Or are you apologizing because you think maybe it'll make all this okay?" Blue asked, but this time, there was a corrosive aspect in his words that made Will tense up. That, Will knew almost immediately, had nothing to do with the situation they were currently in.
That was deeper.
"Say what you have to say, then!" Will blurted suddenly, catching Blue off guard as his eyes darted back down to the boy. Something, Will had sworn, flashed across them; something like a look of sheer upset, or pain. It was gone the instant he'd seen it, however, and was immediately replaced by irritation.
"I'm not doing this right now" Blue muttered under his breath, but as he had twisted around to walk away once more, Will grabbed a hold of him again.
"You are, actually!" Will snapped, his voice nearly breaking underneath the pressure he felt in his chest. "You are doing this right now, so tell me!" Will urged, loosening his grip as Blue had tensed underneath it. Several students passed by them but none really gave them any more attention than a bewildered look. As little as it was, it gave Will passing relief.
Blue turned back to face him, a fiery pain radiating from him.
"Really? Okay, then" Blue began, whipping his arm out of Will's grasp and stepping towards him.
"Tell me, are you even trying anymore?" he asked.
Will froze in place, frustration that had been seeping into his words cut short as he felt like the air was sucked from his chest. From behind him, Will heard Lucas pipe up, but he couldn't tear his eyes off of Blue's face.
"Hey, come on, man..." Lucas cut in sharply, his voice almost pleading as if he knew where the conversation was headed.
"What?" Will exhaled with force, a half-assed scoff as he stared up at Blue. Any other words that might have felt right to come out fell flat in the back of his throat. It made him angry, it did, but anger had a way of changing inside of Will. It hurt more than he thought it would. It hurt a lot, in fact.
"I can't even tell if you are, if you do.... If you do care at all at this point" Blue continued, wiping his nose once more as blood partially stained his lips, staring into Will's face like he was looking for something, still. It was then that Will got a good solid look at Blue's face; not nearly as bad as his own had been, but enough that he would turn heads. Tiny bruises dotted the end of his right eyebrow, and what appears to be a thin purple bruise was slowly forming underneath his eye. Will cringed at the sight of it, wanting to look away but knowing that he ought not to.
"Maybe you're just letting me—letting Lucas, Dustin and I just throw stories and stuff at you like there's any chance that you'll remember" Blue mused, throwing a hand up and letting it flop lifelessly back to his side, eyeing Will like the boy should be reacting to any of this. He was reacting, of course: but it was more of a growing sting, a chokehold around his throat that increased in pressure with every single statement that Blue made. He opened his mouth to speak again, but only a small choked noise came out, as Blue cut in.
"'Cause you know what? Honestly, you probably won't ever remember who I am, you know that?" Blue said through an exasperated tone, like the anger was slowly draining from his voice as he appeared to be coming to this realization. Will stared into Blue's face, like he was trying to crack the code behind his words even if they weren't all that cryptic. Maybe he just hoped that Blue didn't mean what he was saying. Will hadn't noticed that he had tears in his eyes until his vision had started to blur. He was almost too quick to look away, even if it was only briefly, biting down hard on his tongue as though that might keep his lips from trembling. The tension had begun to disappear from Blue's posture, and now the boy seemed like he was practically holding himself up with every last ounce of strength in his body. His eyes were shot down at the floor.
"So why can't you just stop trying? Just let it sink in? Why can't you just give up trying to remember if you know... if we all know it won't happen?" Blue muttered, more in a truly questioning way rather than a sharp jab. Regardless of the intention, every single one of Blue's words had struck Will in the stomach like a precision dart. The two boys behind him had gone dead silent, not even the shifting of their feet audible as Will's ears seemed to take on the sensation of a hollow tunnel for a moment. All of his senses seemed to dull. Blue shook his head, raising his gaze as he spoke.
"Why can't I just give up?" Blue demanded of himself, his voice dropping to a whisper and his posture tensing once more as he looked up at Will for the first time since he'd begun his tirade.
Will hadn't realized he was crying until he felt a cool tear drip down onto his t-shirt. Did it hurt so much to consider that Blue was likely right about everything he was saying? Will hadn't stopped thinking about it, about his memories, since he'd gotten home that first day, wracking his brain for answers when nothing seemed to live there anymore. Will didn't need to consider Blue's words, because he had been terrified to admit they were likely true the entire time he'd been trying to heal. To remember.
So why couldn't he give up, if Blue so desperately wanted to? Clearing his throat, as though that might keep his voice from wavering, Will looked up at Blue and gave the boy a downtrodden smile. He couldn't find it in him to ache even more as he noticed the absolute sense of horror in Blue's face, like he'd just realized what he'd said. Truth be told, he wasn't sure he could ache any more in that moment. The words had already struck him. They were something he couldn't forget.
"You can" Will said simply, his voice trembling ever still.
"Will—" Dustin had began from behind him, but the boy had already twisted around and escaped between the two of his friends, yanking his arm away violently when one of them had reached out to try and stop him. He continued down the hall, picking up his pace as his vision grew blurrier by the moment. He couldn't bring himself to slow down, even while his friends frantic calls drifted down the corridor after him.
By the time he was jogging down the nearly entirely empty hallway, tears were falling freely down Will's face, uncontrolled gasps escaping his lips as he approached the side doors of the school and slammed his open palms into the push bar, shoving the door open and escaping into the frigid late November air.
He had no clue where he was going, but home seemed like the very best option. In retrospect, he imagined that he was being incredibly careless and should have just stayed in school, gone to the library for god's sakes. Something logical. But in the wake of his dizzying gasps, sharp sobs rippling upwards through his chest as he truly clued in to the situation he seemed to be in, to the words that he couldn't block out of his head, Will Byers started walking with the intention of never stopping.
He walked for a good long while, taking in his surroundings as he desperately tried to calm the hammering of his heart against the inside of his chest. He'd rushed himself down through downtown and through what he thought he remembered to be the long stretch of road that eventually led home, and carried on through there, walking for well over an hour. His mind was absolutely swimming with thoughts clouded by his anger and hurt, bitter thoughts passing through as he couldn't seem to block what Blue had said out of his mind.
God, Will had thought to himself as he stared down the absolutely landmark-less stretch of road he was on, lined by a thick wall of trees on either side. God, how can I like somebody like that?
As he carried on walking, the answer came to him rather simply. Because Blue wasn't like that. He wasn't, was he? Will knew deep down that Blue was hurting, and some part of him, even through his own pain, understood. It hurt, still. Nonetheless.
Another thought passed Will as he carried on down the road, one that settled deep into the pit of his stomach: he had no idea where he really was.
When he had left town, he was sure he had taken the proper road, and he was still almost entirely positive that he was close to home, having observed the route that Jonathan took to get him to school several times if only half-heartedly, but nothing stuck out to him that might indicate that he was going the right way. Instead of the sense of panic he had held that day in the woods behind Blue's house, however, Will almost felt calm in this realization. That for once, nobody knew exactly where he was in that moment. He was lost, missing for all anyone knew, and he couldn't even pinpoint exactly where he was. Freeing and terrifying, both at the exact same time.
Will caught a sense of where he was, however, when he carried on a bit down the street, taking note of a wide open path that seemed to dive right into the woods to the right of him. He slid his backpack straps tighter over his shoulders, planning on walking right past it before something caught his eye.
If he had kept walking, he likely wouldn't have though twice to look at the broken pieces of underbrush that seemed to have been torn up, like something had gone tumbling through them. If he hadn't seen the thin slivers of what appeared to be shattered red headlight plastic, barely visible under the thin layer of half melted snow, he would have continued on as well.
But what really stopped him, what really made him pause and realize where he had taken himself, was the sight of the overturned bicycle with it's front wheel bent inwards as an ugly angle, thin red stripes painted along the slowly rusting metal with a faint 'W.B' scratched into the metal pole beneath the bike seat.