Chapter Text
Will groans as his alarm blares again.
He’s already turned it off a few times, sleepily smacking it till the annoying beeping stopped. He opens his eyes, squinting groggily at the time, the numbers blurred. 7:30
Fuck.
Class starts in 5 minutes. If he rushes, maybe he can make it before the front entrance is closed. He jumps out of bed, throwing on the first clothes he could find, an old t-shirt from the floor and torn-up jeans. He only takes a second to make sure they aren’t stained, then throws on his letterman jacket.
Slamming the door open, Will rushes through the house and into the kitchen. Grabbing his backpack and shrugging it on, he pauses.
FUCK.
No one can drive him to school. He knows Chance and Andy have already left, probably honking for a solid 5 minutes before assuming he was skipping, the buses are long gone, and mom and Jonathan haven’t been back all night.
He glances towards the garage, hoping that maybe his mom or hopper would be back, but sees nothing except his old bike. He sighs, pulls it out from where it had been rusting and hops on.
He still remembers when riding this thing was the best thing in the world. Laughing down forest roads with Mi—
No. He doesn’t think about them anymore. Shrugging it off, Will can finally see school in the distance. He pedals faster, and almost throws himself off his bike to stop as he finally reaches the entrance.
Carelessly shoving his bike into the rack, he bolts inside, running towards his first period. Shockingly, first period is a class he doesn’t want to miss.
Even after taking up weight-lifting and joining the basketball team, Will still loves art. Sure, he might be taking art class for a requirement, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel excited when Mrs. Harris praises his work. She always says he has so much potential.
He doesn’t know if he believes her, but it’s still a nice feeling.
As he slams the door of the art room open, it hits the wall with a loud thud, breaking the gentle silence of the room. Mrs. Harris’s head jolts up from where she was counting canvases.
“Will Byers.” She frowns, walking towards him. “Late again? This is the third time this month.”
“I know Mrs. Harris, I didn’t mean to, I swear!” He pleads, knowing that she could technically send him to detention for this. “I just slept through my alarm, it won’t happen again, I promise!”
Her face softens as Will presses his hands together in an almost prayer. He cannot miss practice tonight, Andy would never let him live it down.
“Just don’t let it happen again Mr. Byers, now get to work” She finally shoos him away to his seat, and Will scrambles towards it eagerly, not wanting to push his luck.
There’s a blank canvas and a few acrylic paints by his station, with the last few classes being dedicated to planning out what they would paint. He sets his backpack down and pulls out his art folder.
Frowning as he glances at the few ideas he’d scribbled down. Guess he’s gonna have to wing it. Whatever, as long as he has some sort of an idea, he can claim it’s abstract if it’s shit.
Shoving his papers back into his bag, he spots his walkman. Huh. Maybe?
Digging through his bag, he finally pulls out his favorite cassette. Will is officially a genius. David Bowie, only the best artist of all time, and Aladdin Sane, the perfect inspiration.
He sets the cassette down, grabbing his pencil and beginning to sketch the outline, when he shudders.
Feeling eyes on him, Will tries to subtly set the canvas down and glance around.
Turns out he didn’t have to be subtle, as when he makes eye contact with the girl blatantly staring at him, she doesn’t look away.
Well neither does Will. Jane Hopper is the worst. Always staring, never speaking, always hanging out with his mom and Jonathan when he isn’t even invited.
Stealing everything of his—no, he doesn’t care. Will doesn’t care about any of that anymore.
Giving one last glare and turning back around, he decides to take the high road.
He only manages to get the basic outline done by the time the bell rings, but Mrs. Harris still praises his work before he leaves, and Will smiles as he heads to second period.
As he walks down the hallway, he finally manages to spot Andy and Chance leaning against some guy's locker. While Andy is leering down at the dude, Chance notices Will approaching.
“What’s up dude!” Chance jogs up to him, grinning. “We didn’t see you this morning, I thought you were gonna skip today.”
“I just slept through my alarm again.” Will says sheepishly. “Had to beg that art teacher to not give me detention, I knew Andy would never let me live it down.”
BANG!
He whips his head towards the noise, and sees Andy slamming some poor guy against the lockers. Will frowns, and glances at Chance, who's also frowning at the scene.
“C’mon dude.” Will starts to head towards Andy, and Chance only takes a second before following after him. “I wonder what’s crawled up his ass today.”
“There’s always something!” He laughs as they approach.
As Will gets close enough to see what poor guy Andy decided deserved a beating today, he sees him.
Fuck, he thinks, it just had to be Dustin.
He barely has a second to process the state his old friend is in before Andy starts tearing Dustin’s shirt, ignoring his yells of protest.
Will can’t take it and looks away, disregarding the concerned look from Chance he gets at he turns his head.
He barely gets a second to think before a shout erupts from down the hall.
“Hey!” Lucas spits at Andy, completely ignoring him and Chance.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.