Chapter Text
It started when Will’s shirt didn’t fit. It was the morning, he was dressing himself to pick up Mike from the airport. It was somewhat pleasing to see the shirt was pulled taut and wrinkled over his bicep, but it was incredibly tight all over and didn’t even pass over his pectorals. He had to pull it back over his head, ruffling his hair. He ran to his brothers room in only Khakis, to which Jonathan made a face, himself only in pajamas. He shifted through his brothers drawers, fishing out the oversized ‘Ziggy Stardust’ shirt. “I’m gonna borrow this, Kay? None of my shirts fit”
“Alright buff-Byers!” Jonathan nodded, yawning and running his hand over his hair to tame the frizz. Will sprinted back to his room and pulled the shirt back over his head. The shirt was still a bit tight over his pectorals and biceps considering it was oversized on Jonathan, but his brother was much more small framed. Will looked in the mirror, discontented with what he saw. He had been working out for an hour and a half each day, eating in calorie deficit, not snacking, doing everything he could to reach his goals but he still saw something in the mirror that disgusted him. Maybe it was the effort, he looked so preened and fussy, meanwhile all his friends kept figure just by their everyday activities.
He looped a belt into his pants, they stayed up just the same, so it was mainly for aesthetics. He almost liked the outfit if it wasn’t for the fit of the clothes, his own thighs tight in the pants. He put on blue Chuck Taylor’s, lacing them up to his ankles. He shifted over his room to find his denim crossbody cargo bag, slinging it over his shoulder and tossing in loose change and small bills alongside a pack of mints. He ran his fingers over his chest to brush pilling off and subconsciously feel his body pulsating beneath his fingertips. He almost easily reached for the painting, before considering any repercussions, he paused, but took it despite the anxiety, stuffing it in the bag. He trudged down the stairs to the kitchen, none of his family were ready yet so he was able to make his breakfast in peace. He placed a piece of toast into the toaster, setting it at the near highest setting because he liked his breakfast crispy and near burnt. He left it in their while he went to the bathroom.
He locked the door and opened the window, fishing his little pink vape out of his pocket and raising it to his lips, Blueberry Watermelon smoke filled the air, it smelled mechanically fruity, the kind of smell he’d never get sick of. Any blueberry flavored vape he’d buy in a rush, excited to have his favorite flavor beneath his fingertips at the expense of no calories. He leaned against the sink counter for a minute, stewing in his own smoke before hearing the toaster sing, signaling the toast’s completion. He dramatically wafted air out of the window, when only a small grayish puff of residue remained he opened the door and left the bathroom.
He opened the door and pulled the toast out of the toaster, plating it on a small white piece of glass. He shifted to the fridge and grabbed a sliced in half avocado, wrapped in Saran Wrap to preserve it from yesterdays breakfast. He grabbed a spoon from the silverware drawer and scooped clumps from the avocado, smearing them over his nearly burnt toast. He heard the patter down the stairs, it was gentle so he could only assume it was El. She met him in the kitchen, staring for just a moment before beginning to speak.
“I’m excited! Are you excited? I dressed and make-up-ed so nice today. You smell good.” El was right about her makeup and outfit looking nice. She had learned the basics from Joyce but had truly expanded upon her style and aesthetics through magazines and TV. She wore a pleated purple skirt with hot pink Dr. Martins and cyan tights, layered with white fishnet stockings. Her shirt was a hot pink off the shoulder shirt that was baggy. She wore purple mascara, cyan eyeshadow and big black eyeliner, there was glitter all over her face, she looked beautiful in a way he didn’t understand. She had a thrifted purple leather Doonie & Burke handbag by her side. She had put in seriously effort getting ready this morning and it payed off. She usually spent an hour getting ready, which wouldn’t seem like such a big deal considering his maintenance to appearance was much longer, but it amazed him.
“I’m excited too” He brushed off the comment of smelling good, it was just his vape and he didn’t want to encourage that. He felt meager in comparison, just boyish and awkward. Jonathan eventually stumbled downstairs, clad in jeans and a flannel that were both baggy on him. Will misses when his clothes used to fit like that. He now felt everything around himself tighten dramatically. He had finished breakfast quickly, grabbing a white monster from the refrigerator for the road. He shifted through the fridge until he reached his own whole wheat bread, taking two slices and reeling in the cool jar of pesto. He propped the ingredients on the countertop, smearing in pesto between the pores of the bread and scooping out an extra scoop to combat hunger. He returned the jar and grabbed his tomato, a third of the way cut and sealed in Saran Wrap, he sliced three slices and lay it out along the bread. He rewrapped the tomato and sliced grilled chicken along the bread, it having been prepped as he always made his chicken. He sealed the sandwich together and firmly wrapped it in Saran Wrap, stuffing it in his bag. El and Jonathan were halfway done with their breakfast of heated up Eggos. Will looked at the breakfast and could only subconsciously add up the calories, it was a miracle El stayed so thin considering she ate that everyday. She ate 270 calories in just the waffles, 30 in the whipped cream, 100 in chocolate syrup, and 200 in chocolate milk. The numbers whirled around his head, he never was a math guy but it seemed like numbers were all he thought of these days. She ate a 500 calorie breakfast, whereas he ate 300 calories, he hadn’t even gotten to the rest of his breakfast, his daily matcha. She ate so much food, but so little fiber, whereas that was what Will focused most on, if he didn’t burn the calories he’d at-least shit them out.
They were all ready, and just as they had got up the Surfer Boy Pizza skirted into their driveway. El and Will had to cram themselves into the back seats whereas Jonathan could sit up front. They were squished back there, Will felt El’s thigh rubbing against him and almost felt disgust. He had to remind himself she was a thin girl. Whenever Will is upset he thinks he’d be happier if he was El, more confident, less conscious of weight, but he subconsciously scrutinized even her, and he knows it’d be tenfold if he had to live like that. It makes him feel horrible to think. He is wider, he knows that, but it is confined muscle whereas she was soft, feminine.
Argyle smelled of weed, which made him wrinkle his nose a bit, but overall he held his judgement inside because he was just as much a sinner. His vape suddenly felt heavy in his pocket. He bit on his tongue, he didn’t have a vape nor food to stimulate his sudden need for mouth contact. He was waiting anxiously like a dog for when they got to the airport so he could vape in the bathroom.
The entire bumpy ride flipped his stomach every which way, he could hardly talk because he was focused on keeping his breakfast down. He didn’t know what he’d do if he’d throw up, eating again felt taboo and he hadn’t eaten more than his daily diet did in four months, not a calorie more. The van pulled into the Starbucks drive through, and they all placed their order.
“I’ll have a tall matcha” Will ordered.
“I’ll have a Venti hot chocolate” El ordered
“I’ll have a black coffee” Jonathan ordered, shifting through his pocket before reaching over Argyle to tap his card to the payment reader.
Will logged El’s calories again, only subconsciously, but the numbers danced above him. 450 in just hot chocolate seemed ridiculous to him. She had already consumed 950 calories before noon, Will hadn’t even made a third of that. She was an anomaly, and an angering one at that, that she was still 40 pounds lighter than him. Once the matcha reached his clammy hands the numbers were quiet. He rested it in his left hand, the Monster in his right. He hardly even felt the need to vape anymore, he had liquid. El mindlessly enjoyed her hot chocolate. Will wished he was her.
Once they made it to the airport they all sat, Will left his drinks on a table besides their bench and nearly ran to the bathroom, locking the door and releasing.
He vaped. The cloud swirled around his head and he felt calmer, the pent up energy and numbers swirling in the smoke and leaving him. He must’ve been in their for five minutes before a rushed rhythmic knocking interrupted his trance.
He rushed out of the bathroom, the next guy coughed upon entrance but Will was currently almost sprinting back to the bench where he left his things. He weaved the rolled up parchment of his painting between his fingers, reaching in his other hand for the Monster. The white can on his lips was enough to quell the nerves he held within him. El was tapping her fingers along her knee, a nervous tick, her lips tightened into a frown. Meanwhile, Will felt an infectious grin embrace his lips and cheeks at the thought of Mike once more. He hadn’t seen Mike since his thirteenth summer, and now he was turning fourteen. He checked his calendar to refresh his mind on the countdown only to be met with facts staring back at him, his birthday was today. He looked around, passed his family (and Argyles) faces to see if a scheme was hidden beneath it. They all looked positively blank.
It was his birthday, and his family forgot. He didn’t know how to process that. His birthday had never been a big fuss, his other friends getting big party’s and many presents, but he’s just get a present from his mom and a cake. He knew it wasn’t out of a lack of care, it was because they were poor, but with Hoppers income, the had to be ‘not poor’ enough that he could have something for his birthday. He was relieved at the lack of cake, he didn’t know how he’d grapple cake into his diet. Maybe if he skipped dinner and worked out for an extra 30 minutes he’d make it work. But he didn’t have to. Everyone forgot.
The time drones by in an instant and soon the 10:15 flight from the Indianapolis Airport was arriving. The subtle droopy smile on his face broke into a full grin when he saw neon yellow against the gray interior walls of the airport. He rose to his feet instinctively when the boy turned around, raven curly hair that shined under the overhead lights framed a perfectly symmetrical moon pale and thin carved face. Mike nearly sprinted clumsily to them. He was about six inches taller and so very lanky, looking like a coat rack. Will had seen pictures that El took over Christmas break, but he hadn’t seen that face in a tangible way for nine months.
Mike looked positively gorgeous. He also looked incredibly stupid. He had ill-fitting blue shirt and gray basketball shorts on that just highlighted his incredible height of 6’1 and his thinness. He had a neon yellow over-shirt with a palm tree stitched on the pocket, it must’ve been made for an obese man since it literally swallowed him whole. He had a gray corduroy backpack slung over his shoulder, making him slump a little. His feet made dramatic noises as the flip-flops hit cool tile, he had sunglasses slung around his neck. He had a visor with a random psychedelic design printed on it. Mike looked seriously silly, but the fit of the clothes just hanging off him, loose and long, made Wills heart race. Mikes face changed, it got more wide, his nose arched forward, his jawline was more defined, all his features were prominent, nothing about his face was subtle or hiding. No baby fat clung to him anywhere, unlike Will who still had chipmunk cheeks his prayed everyday would define out. Mike looked like a god, Will still prayed. He had an ugly arrangement of flowers in his hands, daisies, purple coneflowers, daffodils, and a myriad of other unrecognizable purple and yellow flowers. They did not look cohesive, in fact it looked as horrible as a bouquet could. He had no chance in being a florist.
Mike made it to El and embraced her, their thin frames interlocked like they were made for each other, his height lending to his ability to simply rest his head on hers. It was sickeningly sweet, so much so he wanted to gag.
Then Mike face him, and Will felt his heart beating once more, like it had stopped for nine months without him knowing, his face was hot and soon his hands clicked into Mikes lower bag, hugging him so tight he lifted him into the air. If it wasn’t for his height Will could easily suspend Mike over the ground indefinitely, considering he was only about ten pounds more than El. Mikes forearms rested on Wills shoulders and his face split into the same stupid grin he’s missed.
“Hardly recognized ‘ya. You are absolutely ripped Will. I mean, I’d say I miss the tiny guy I used to carry, but this is pretty cool. El’s been saying you get a bit of attention from girls now, I can see why” Mike complimented him. Will felt his face warm up until it almost felt hot to the touch. He felt his stomach jump in his body. A few weeks past a beautiful girl had asked him out, he felt cool as a cucumber turning her down. Mike, on the other hand, made him a stumbling fool. Will knew he was hotter now, but he still looked in the mirror and saw something he knew wasn’t real, but also knew he didn’t like.
“Thank you” Will sputtered. Despite everything his personality never changed, he was still timid and naive, even if he looked like a bodybuilder. Mike was beaming at him, his hand groping firmly his bicep with an open mouth, like it was foreign for a man to have such firm muscle.
“Seriously, I leave you alone for nine months and you become jacked and hot and shit. Normally when you leave someone alone for nine months they just like have a kid.” Mike jokes, his hands drifting towards Wills deltoids in utter awe.
“Well, Mom and Hop are sure trying. I think we might have another Byers-Hopper kid running round pretty soon” Will joked. His mother and Hopper did want a kid, considering their age they probably wouldn’t yield any fruit, but they didn’t take precaution against it, just accepting what would be would be. Will had always wanted a little brother or sister, but now that he had El he was pretty contented with siblings.
Mike cackled, pulled Jonathan into a side hug. He paused for a moment when he saw Argyle, but Argyle hugged him and Mike awkwardly reciprocated, his face being squished into Argyles chest. They left the airport.
On his way out, Will chucked his empty matcha, his hunger still forming a large chasm in his gut, but he ignored it in trade for a long swig on his can of Monster. Mike silently clocked his energy drink, shaking his head dismissively.
Since Mike was here, the two boys would stuff themselves in the trunk like they used to in Nancy’s car. Will never got why he had to be in the trunk, he was always the one leading them to answers. Will’s knees were pressed against Mikes. Mike had his backpack placed in his lap like it was precious cargo. Will copied the motion with his bag, trying not to bend the contents. They looked at each other. Will missed his eyes and voice most of all, over his body, over his hair, even over his smile.
Mike had to clutch Wills calves as they hit bumpy roads to stable himself, Will crushed his finished can and littered it on the ground in the back of the truck. Mike was digging the pads of his fingertips into the meat and muscle of Wills calf, noticing the tug of muscle he made a sharp wolf-whistle. “Damn, even your legs are toned.
Will grinned, the affirmation almost made him want to eat, but more than that it made him want to avoid food, because that work got him here, to where Mike though he was hot. If only he was a size less wide maybe Mike would love him first, or maybe Will would love himself first.
They curved into the parking lot of the Rink-O-Mania, the hatch of the truck cracking open and Will jumping out, pulling his bag back over his shoulder. Mike follow en suite and hopped out of the trunk, offering a gentle and steady arm for El to climb out of her seat, they all managed well to stride into the rink.
They all gravitated towards the countertop where the skates were sold, Will leaning over on it because he felt incredibly weak. He fished a rolled up five dollar bill and exchanged it for a pair of roller skates, taking a moment to look down at the size scribed into the heel, they were a size 13. Will was often called a ‘clown foot’ when he was thirteen and little, but not he never was anymore, that meant he was bigger, which was disgusting. He laced the shoes around his feet, steadying himself to balance on his tread.
Mike had tied the shoes around his feet as well as El, he retrieved his wallet from the pocket in his low hanging shorts, flourishing it in the air before grinning his stupid grin. “Milkshakes on me, what flavor do you two want?” He offered, trying to be chivalrous. He plopped his bag on a seat in the booth, using extra care. Will saw him click a couple things on his phone before returning to the conversation.
“I don’t want any, you can save your cash” Will pardoned, in all truth a milkshake was an immense commitment to calories that would ruin his day, and didn’t seem to appetizing, he was just waiting for lunch.
“Strawberry please!” El squeaked. Oh great, another 800 to her tally without even a pound of gain. She would have then consumed 1750 calories before reaching lunchtime, that was 340 more than he ate in a day, and she was still so much intensely lighter than he was. It was truly unfair, but must’ve been because he was a boy. Will would have it much easier being a girl. He would be lighter, less insecure, and less scared of his attraction to a man.
“Alrighty, coming right up.” Mike ordered both the strawberry milkshake and his own double chocolate milkshake. They drank a bit, eating so easily, before hitting the rink. Will figured it would be a fine workout, so he turned on the timer on his watch and began to skate laps as fast as he could. Mike and El took a more romantic pace, their arms barely touching. Will rushed by so quick he couldn’t spot the subtle disdain hidden on their faces. Maybe if he was thinner they’d remember his birthday, less loud too. He made it all the way around the rink ten times before he noticed El and Mike were gone. Will kept skating.
They ditched him, it was cool. It might have been his birthday, but they hadn’t seen each other in a while. They were probably making out in the bathroom, probably eating their food and not giving a damn about weight, probably doing anything but hanging with him. It was fair, he ditched them too for working out. He would’ve been third wheeling, but he’s sure it would’ve made a difference. Maybe they wouldn’t have left. Maybe they wouldn’t have left if he wasn’t so loud and babbling in the airport, they were probably relieved to not hear his chatter for a moment. Maybe they wouldn’t have left if he was thinner.
Will’s next five laps were quicker, his lungs felt inflamed and burning and his heart was palpitating. He felt tears prickling between his nose and eyes, trying to combat them only left his throat tight and heavy. He was near bawling and coughing until he lost his voice when he felt a cool tap on his shoulder. He pivoted to see Mikes face wearing its proudest dumb smirk, Will ceased in his tread, only gently drifting along the track.
“I couldn’t catch ‘ya, I’m a total clutz on these things and your like Usain Bolt! We’ve got a little surprise for you. Did you seriously think I’d forget your birthday?” Mikes words left Wills jaw absolutely slammed to his chest in slack. It was amazing. It was indulgent. His heart stopped for a moment and his face heated enough you could cook an egg on it, meanwhile Mike was cool as a cucumber. Mike took his hand and,-
Holy fucking shit.
Mike took his hand.
Will genuinely felt too indulgent in the moment, letting himself be dragged to their table he cursed the moment for being fleeting. He wished Mikes spindly fingers would wrap around his forever, he tried to memorize every groove quickly before Mike released his hand like a claw machine and took Will firmly by the shoulders, spinning his like a princess before sliding him into the booth like a coin in a slot machine.
Will felt manhandled in the best way, he felt like the subject of a romance novel. El stared at the exchange like it was normal, and Wills eyes met a cheesecake laying between the two with ‘Happy birthday Will’ piped in yellow loopy cursive. Wills heart pounded, he couldn’t even eat cake on his diet, but it looked gorgeous. It was piped with white whipped cream, powdered sugar dunked over the surface and blueberries and lemon zest decorated it. It might have been the most perfect cake. Will involuntarily cheesed, his crooked teeth poking between his big lips. It smelled great. Mike switched sides of the booth to sit besides Will, handing him a yellow candle.
“We didn’t have fourteen, how ‘bout one?” Mike giggled, Will took it and seized the lighter from his pocket without even thinking. His face turned beet red at the reminder of his possession of the lighter, Mike gave him a small accusatory look from the corner of his eye before dropping the matter, Will ceremoniously stuck the candle in the cake and lit it, Mike and El tried their hardest to harmonize, managing to carry the tune very shakily. Will felt special and loved. It was again fleeting as Will wished upon the candle to be thinner.
Will remembered wishing upon thirteen candles to be thinner.
The flame extinguished and he was still the same size. Mikes hand snaked around his thigh, Will didn’t know what he was missing that made the other boy so incredibly handsy. Maybe it was the increased muscle, Mike seemed rather fixated on Wills athletic prowess and build. Will felt guilt and bile rise along his throat as he had to confess. “This looks amazing, it really does, but I can’t eat it. I’m on a diet, sorry?”
Mikes face looked like a kicked puppy “I- come on, you don’t need to worry at all, you look phenomenal, one slice of cake wouldn’t hurt you” Mike pleaded. He had no idea how much it would hurt him, but in order to spare his feelings, Will took a thin slice, no wider than an inch, leaving plenty of allowance for the two who enjoyed eating. Will plated it on the paper plates Mike so courteously provided, thrusting a plastic fork into the slice of cake. El and Mike helped themselves to large slice of cheesecake. Will just realized it was blueberry on the inside, a subtle attention to detail that made him feel extra appreciated. Without thinking Will tallied another 400 calories to the total, now making 2150 her daily total. Will felt awe and disgust trample his appetite. He cautiously moved around the bites, taking one small bite.
It was like ambrosia. A divine food. The blueberries and creamy cheesecake filling felt like an explosion on his tongue and immediately produce drool to prick up his tongue and coat the food. Without thinking he ate rapidly, stuffing the slice down his throat in a ravenous manner like he hadn’t eaten in months. He hadn’t truly eaten like this in months. Before he could discern why this was bad his plate was cleared and stomach felt heavy. Mikes hand patted his back in some sort of congratulations. “So he eats!” He hurrahed, unaware of the nausea spiking his friends gut.
“Mr birthday boy, we’ve got presents. For you and El I suppose. Max told me since El doesn’t have a birthday and y’all are practically twins that it’s her birthday too, I didn’t wanna take away from your special day, but we got her some little things.” El’s face lit up like it was Christmas morning, turning into a tiny child. Will remembered when they first met, she looked the same but happier. Mike unzipped his backpack and presented a Lisa Frank folder with the two aliens riding in a car, drawn in technicolor. El’s eyes perked up and she pulsated her hands to gesture ‘gimme’, Mike handed it to her lightly, she held it like it was Pirate treasure. “From Max, with love”
Mike reached through the bag, sifting between clothes, deodorant, a phone charger, and other gifts, he reeled in a small sketch book with heavyweight watercolor paper and held it in his open palms for Will. Will beamed, he had been obsessed with watercolor, this was absolutely perfection for the new projects he was planing on. “From Dustin.” Mike narrated.
He grabbed a lightweight t-shirt, holding it by the sleeves. It was tiny. The shoulders would not fit, nor the chest, and to Wills dismay, not even the abdomen. Mike chortled a little bit. It had Star Wars characters printed on it in beautiful colors. “This is from Lucas and Max, though I doubt it’ll fit considering how you’ve gotten shredded.”
Will clutched It between fingers, marking it in his head as a goal shirt. He folded it in his lap, smiling thankfully despite how it would fit him nearly. Mike retrieved a small vat of pink and purple glittery slime from the bag, sliding it across the table for El, grinning with his extremely straight teeth, he crossed his arms and announced “From yours truly!” El’s face was a firework display of adoration.
Mike returned to his bag, fingers more delicate around this one. He unsheathed a black disc the size of his hand, handing it to Will, his hands now retreating until his knuckles touched Wills palms and the disc was firm in his grip. Will inspected it, undoing a latch over the front to reveal a set of fresh dry pans of watercolor. There was every color he’d need a a thin brush with a compartment for holding water. It was the perfect gift considering his middle school water colors were getting dingy, muddled, and used dry. Will didn’t know what to say, his mouth agape, he took it to his chest and just nodded dearly, smiling so wide his cheeks were sore and split. Mike took his between his arms and hugged him until his back went numb. It was the best birthday he’s had.
They were silent for a while, thankful peaceful silence. Will felt himself overcome with joy, that was until dread embodied itself in the approaching whir of skates on resin coated wooden planks. Wills head spun around to see Angela and her posse approaching with wicked sneers and laughter painted on their faces. Angela firmly planted her hand on the edge of the table, grinning with malicious intent. “So, are the little fag-twins having a great time skating? It looks just peachy. And who’s this fine twink?”
Angela took her fingers gently around Mikes chin as if examining him, Mike jerked away and slapped her hand off, tightening his lips. Angela scoffed, her friend Mandy skated forward, looking at him gently before asking. “So, is he dating the whale or the anorexic?” She asked with venom in his throat, her tone between spitting and hissing. She spun on the heels of her skate in a turning motion to stimulate herself. Will felt punched in the gut. He had been trying so hard, but to be called a whale felt like vomit turning in his gut, his head turning red and heavy, the cake within him feeling like poison or a hand squeezing his stomach. He gripped on his bony wrist, squeezing it until it almost felt dislocated, his hand bright pink and irritated.
Their friend Ross, a guy with a vague boyish shape to his body and a handsome face scowled before responding. “Probably the anorexic. The twig doesn’t look straight.” It hit him that he was ‘the anorexic’, it almost prided him the his hard work showed in his body, but he didn’t want to be particularly outed. It also hit El, who obviously thought she was perceived as the ‘the anorexic’ instead she was the whale. It wasn’t true, he wanted to tell her, but he could only choke out weakly.
“I- I’m not anorexic!” He sputtered, trying to defend himself. Mike stared at him with a silent look, El was also staring. Will felt everyone’s eyes peer into him. “And Jane’s not a whale! Shut up go away!” He defended, he wasn’t brave enough at all to defend himself, but they hit the sore spot with his weight. He subconsciously crossed his arms over his stomach despite his previous denial of his disordered eating.
“Oh please-“ Angela teased, her voice had no grit, smooth as honey down his throat. “Todd heard ‘ya gagging and crying and upchucking in the boys bathroom, everyone hears it. At least it works, Ana, Mikayla is all over your bulimia, I’m sure she’d even lick up your vomit. Your hot! It’s just pathetic. But at least you look better than your sister” She grinned. Mike’s mouth was opening and closing like a fish blowing bubbles.
“Listen, I don’t know who you are, I don’t know your dumb social pyramid, but you can’t talk to my girlfriend and best friend like that.” Mike swept his leg across her calf from beneath the table, knocking her off her footing. She face-planted into the ground, her nose making a loud smacking noise into the floor. She rose to her feet furiously. Slapping him across the face.
“I’m surprised a twig like you is sticking up for that pig! Well Mrs. Piggie, I’m sure you want more cake!” Angela gripped her hand around the small crook between her neck and head, shoving her face first into the cake. El’s face jolted up from the cake and she shimmied the skate off her foot and throwing it as hard as she could straight into the girls forehead. Angela fell back on her skates, her forehead split into a nasty gash, Wills jaw went absolutely slack at this. His perfect birthday ending in a violent attack was unexpected.
Angela cursed and foamed at the mouth like a dog, maybe it was the blood gushing between her eyebrows, or instead her comments on his weight and eating habits, but whatever it was he leaned over the trashcan and hurled until his throat was sore. He must’ve heaved his entire meal for the day and more, which he considered would atone just fine for his caloric defeat in the cheesecake. His stomach was sore and felt like a bagpipe in the way it shrunk dramatically. Even his pants felt looser, if he weren’t in public he knew he’d be knuckle deep in his own throat right now.
El ran out of the roller rink as fast as she could, Mike chased after her and so Will followed, catching her within a matter of minutes. Will gripped her shoulders, taking her into his arms in a tight hug. “We’ll find Jonathan and Argyle and take you home, don’t worry El.” Will reassured, wrapping her in embrace. El cried into his shoulders and Mike caught up, wrapping his arms around the exterior in his best awkward support. They walked toward the golf course where Jonathan and Argyle said they’d be at to drive home.
Jonathan and Argyle reeked of Marijuana and cheap Pizza, they were putting balls that went over the fence every single putt. They turned and giggled in synchronization. “Woah, five already my dudes. Time does fly when your having fun.” Argyle said, packing his single club into the trunk of the van, Jonathan did the exact same. They were high out of their minds.
The drive was silent and bumpy, occasionally Jonathan and Argyle would chatter their high thoughts to each other, ultimately in agreement about everything under the sun. Will felt his stomach agitate with the bumps on the road and looked at his lunch laying in the bottom of his bag, realizing now he forgot to eat it, he split the sandwich in half, pushing the bread to his lips and managing to choke down the first half, when he finished he chose to pawn off the other half, loosing his appetite. “Do any of you want the rest of my sandwich?” He broke the silence, El shook her head, but Mike eagerly nodded, so he handed it to him.
Mikes teeth sunk into the soft bread, letting the fibers melt into his tongue until mushy. “Thank you so much. I was starving, this is delicious” Will awkwardly nodded. He hated when people said they were starving. It irked him, they weren’t starving, he was. But he quieted these thoughts and listened to Mike smack his gums like eating was easy.
They arrived home quickly, Will found Joyce over the stove stirring a pot of what looked like French Onion soup. He knew he couldn’t eat it, he’d have to stick with the meal he already prepared, but it still stung how lovely it smelt. Mike kicked his shoes off, they were always a shoes on household, but Mike couldn’t live with that. They all sat on the same side of the table, silent and awkward.
Will got up and retrieved his prepared chicken, rice, and broccoli for the the day from the fridge, tossing it in the microwave. He saw Mike whisper something to El at this, to which she nodded. Hopper sat down on his end of the table, directly across from Joyce. Jonathan and Argyle sat on their side, and El and Mike on the other side. Will scooted his chair with his leg to sit alongside El. He felt the speculation burn a hole in his gut. By the time his food was heated up, everyone had their soup poured, looking indulgently, feasting his eyes as they gained no calories.
Will poked at his bland dinner. His appetite didn’t completely evaporate into the air, but right now the plain white dinner felt horrible, the soup was the thing he was truly craving. Wills felt misery shake his intestines as everyone slurped down in their bowls. His mother spoke up, pausing the ritualistic eating. “I have to tell you something,” she seemed displeased by both Mike’s and Argyles presence, but despite that, continued speaking. “After trying for- what’s felt like forever, but has really only been less than a year, me and Hopper have conceived. We are having a baby.”
Will was stopped dead in his tracks. The thing he just joked about so suddenly real and tangible, a little sibling, a family of six. They’d just be the American dream, California coasts and a tight-knit family. Will felt pressure, maybe in his mind he knew he was going to tell them about his eating disorder and addiction sometime soon, but now he couldn’t. He couldn’t say it until the baby was at-least one, although that would still surely make chaos ensue. He would have to tuck this away and learn to cope his best until then, although he didn’t particularly desire change, he knew it was right to be a proper older brother. He realized in his silent spiral beneath curtains he had made this about him, he pivoted his head to see how everyone was taking in.
Argyle, surprisingly so, was the first to break the silence, his hand beating into his palm in a steady clap “Congratulations, great news!” He cheered.
Will quietly piped up “Congrats mom and dad” he knew he’d be tossing all of his food.
Everyone follow en suite. They asked gentle questions but were majorly quite. From what they’ve gathered Joyce is seven weeks along, she is what is considered a geriatric pregnancy, she will be taking off work when she starts the third trimester to trade for a job as a telemarketer. She was very excited, the baby’s nursery would be in the guest room. Will scraped him entire dinner into the trashcan, hoping nobody would notice, his brother gave a knowing stare.
Mike pulled his backpack around his shoulder and walked up to Wills room with him, nudging shoulders up the stairs. Will pulled out the air mattress and placed it by his closet “You can have the bed Mike” Will coughed out, his chest was burning. He figured it was just a cold. Mike nodded, placing his backpack on the foot of the bed, right besides the bed there was a digital scale, Mikes eyebrow quirked and he hopped on it.
“145” he announced to Will, not particularly interested in the number. He was just stimulating himself with any motion possible, he motion for Will to follow the action in repetition. Will felt his chest pulsate, he stepped on the scale and saw the number stare back at him. It was a glaring ‘168.28’, Will took his fingers to the notepad besides his bed and scribed the date and the number down besides it, noticing how he’s lost two pounds since last week, he seemed proud.
Mike sat down on the bed, patting the sheets besides him and ruffling them to signal for Will to sit besides him. Will followed and sat besides him. Mike took a big breath, his chest filling. Mikes face was uncharacteristically red and nervous, he pinched his elbow before starting. “Listen, I don’t want to say anything your uncomfortable with. If you don’t wanna talk about this that’s totally cool but I’m just a little worried about you. Uhmm, shit this sounds so dumb, but are you anorexic?” Mike asked.
Everything rushed at him, he felt the wave of sudden nausea hit him. He dug his fingers into the expanse of his thigh and he felt his face heat up with guilt, he immediately stuttered between shaky breathes “No! Of course not! God no!” Will denied unconvincingly, he knew Mike probably sat right through it but right now he was trying to prove as much as he could that he wasn’t.
“Okay, sorry but you know your just acting weird so I wanted to check. I’m sorry for assuming, god I sound stupid. How bout the baby” he pivoted “I mean you told me they were trying but I didn’t know it’d be day one!” Will felt a weight off his chest like he had just picked the dumbbell up. Will got up from the bed and picked up his two dumbbells at the thought of that, he lifted as he kept the conversation with Mike, knowing he still had an hour of working out left.
“Yeah. I wasn’t expecting it either. It’s just… insane that I’m gonna be a big brother” Will lifted the weights up in his arms, his timer begun and he already felt burning like he wanted it to stop.
Mike shifted on the bed into a laying position, grabbing what looked like a thing of mints from his pocket and popping one in his mouth, exhaling.
“What kinda mints are those? Are they good?” Will asked casually, engaging small talk with him. Will saw Mikes face drop and turn beet red. Mike immediately shoved the plastic container deep in his pocket and guiltily waved her arms.
“Nothing! That is nothing” Will stared at him incriminatingly, knowing what he saw but not being able to decipher what the meaning behind the action was.
“Don’t play dumb. Just tell me what that was.” Will scolded him like an angry mother, not yet dropping his weights as he knew with Mike defeat was right around a corner.
“Uhmmm… it was a Zyn, you do know what that is? It’s a bad habit but I needed one to calm down a bit, y’know” Will nodded, silently taking in the information.
He felt seen that his best friend of years and love of his life was struggling with addiction just like him, he knew it was bad but it genuinely brought him joy to be so represented by his friend, he smiled, unsheathing the vape from his pocket in a small moment of solidarity, he showed it to Mike. Never before did he think he’d being telling someone about his addiction so easily, but it felt natural and smooth. He shook it, showing it off like a prize. The muscles in his face all felt sore and vulnerable, gently contorting into a grin. Mike shared the moment of peace between everything that although they were bad, they were the same. It felt like a weight lifted from his stomach and spat back out on his feet.
Will took the vape to his lips and took a hit, letting smoke curl and wither around him until it fogged his lungs and dazed his eyes. Everyone had their vice except El, who seemed, as far as he knew, innocent of any impurities. The blueberry smoke weighed down in his lungs, the one kind of heaviness that he felt comfortable with, letting himself dwell in the moment. Mike coughed, hacking on the smoke. “God that’s fucking foul! How do you like that, it smells like shit!” Mike joked.
Will shrugged, inhaling the last of the linger tainted air. His lungs felt itchy and irritated and his chest burned. Will wafted the rest of the residue out of the window, nodding at Mike. They chittered for the rest of the hour about home, about school, about addiction. They opened up. Mikes school sounded fun, they had a D&D club, there was an older boy, Eddie, who took them under his wing. Mike wasn’t too addicted to the Zyns, they were a vice, but vaping was Wills crutch. Will lied about the vape to seemed a bit more on par and normal to Mike.
When Will’s timer went off he dropped the weights to the floor, crashing into his air mattress. He touched his chest which felt sore, touched his stomach which felt tight and hollow, and touched his arms which were burning, like calories were melting straight off them steeply. His body was thoroughly sore to the touch. Will flipped off the light switch, letting darkness swallow the two of them under her velvet curtain.
Once Mike had fell asleep Will blindly stumbled to the bathroom, dragging his feet into the carpet as if trying to burn a hole in his sock. He didn’t even turn on the lights before dropping to his bruised knee, the sharp pain reverberating in his kneecaps, he pressed his stomach into the porcelain edge of the toilet, but before his fingers could even leave his side something more sinister took his breath away. Will was consumed with a coughing fit, his dry throat wheezing until the scratchy sides were touching and bumping, inflamed. He kept honking out coughs, the sound choked and grotesque. Blood spattered in the bowl, looking like period spotting, but coming from his lips. Will drank a cup of water, regret and liquid pooling in the bottom of his stomach as he gurgled down.
When the coughing fit faded Will by instinct took his fingers to his throat and shoved. The first push past his tonsils was the hardest, but once his fingers slid down he was able to easily move them around. He pressed down on his tongue until it kept down. He wriggled his harsh fingers around, the skin felt sharp. He felt bile rise up his throat and unhinged his jaw, pressing his tongue down before jolting his fingers away from his mouth to keep his sleeves clean. Will felt everything he kept down that day come up, his stomach being scraped clean with a kitchen fork. The emptiness and displeasure of his growling stomach felt good. Will wiped his mouth and flushed the vomit, trudging back to his place in bed.
He let sleep take him in honesty this time.