Sn. 4

                                    

                                          

MIKE SPENT THE next while just thinking.
His mind raced around Will's confession, if you could even call it that. Was Will gay?
Honestly, Mike wouldn't be surprised if the answer was yes. Will had never shown a remote interest in girls, and it just.... he didn't know. He only knew that it made sense to him. Will had spent years being called a variety of hateful words, and now that he thought about it Mike realized most of them were... well, gay slurs.
Finally, Mike had to admit it: as much as he tried to, his mind just kept coming back there.
If Will was actually gay, did that mean he- he- 
did that mean he had a chance?
Did that mean he wanted one?
Okay, this was getting ridiculous. Yes, yes he did. Why was it so hard to admit? why couldn't he just admit that he liked cute, kind, smart Will Byers? he shouldn't care that he was a boy. If it didn't matter to him, he didn't care what anyone else would think.
The more he thought about it the more confidant he got. Yes. He liked Will. He didn't care what anyone else says: he wanted Will. His subconscious had apparently known before him: all those stomach turns, the dream.... He really liked Will.
His stomach was bursting with butterflies. Did he have the guts to do it? could he really ask Will out? What if he actually said yes?
He was spiraling now, and he knew it. Just a minute ago he couldn't even admit to liking Will, now he was basically planning their anniversary date.
Calm down, he reminded himself, First, he actually has to agree to go out with you.
 Lucky for him, he had just the way to ask him.
                                                                                             ✴ ⁕ ✴ ⁕ ✴
"Hey Will?" Mike asked as he stepped back into Click's classroom. Will was sitting on a table crossed legged, drawing. He was completely gone in whatever he was drawing, and didn't seem to hear Mike's call.
"Hey," Mike said once he was closer. Will looked up, startled, and hurried to close the sketchpad.
"Oh, sorry- hi," Will responded. He looked much better, his skin less pale and his eyes less sad.
Mike was glad to see the bandage was clean of blood, happy to see he had stopped Will's blood loss.
"So... hungry?" Mike asked. 
Will looked kind of confused as he stared at the darkening sky outside.
"Wow, it's already night?" He said.
"Not really- it's like 4 pm, but you know how the sun is during winter," Mike shrugged. He was getting more and more nervous. Was his plan really going to work?
"Oh. Well, sure, I could eat." Will smiled his small smile, "Did you have something in particular in mind?" 
Mike swallowed hard. "Actually, yeah. Follow me."
Will arose from his chair, and followed Mike obediently out the class door. He looked even more confused, and Mike hoped with all his heart it would go well. Otherwise, it would be too embarrassing for words.
The boys entered into the cafeteria.
"Wow," Will said, stopping. 
"You like it?" Mike asked, nervous,
"Ye-yeah, of course I do!" Will called, looking around in shock.
Mike had pushed all the cafeteria tables to the side, all except one in the middle. He had thrown one of the scarves on it as an impromptu map, with two lunch-trays waiting, one on each side. In the middle of the table was another plate, covered with the other scarf. The room was completely dark except for the light coming from the door, and the Disc-man was playing The Beatles in a really soft volume. It was cozy, simple and, Mike hoped, a little romantic?
He didn't know. He was always bad in these kind of things.
"Umm- sit down!" Mike laughed a nervous laugh, rushing to the table and gesturing at one of the sides. Will followed, still looking confused, and his cheeks a little flushed. He sat down, and crossed his arms on his chest self-consciously.
"So, what's on the menu?" Will asked, kind of avoiding Mike's eyes.
"Our house specialty!" Mike called a little too loud, and got up from his seat. He knelt by the table and after a moment the trashcan he had placed by the table blazed up in a cozy orange fire, adding some light to the dark room. Just like Mike had planned.
Then, he sat back in his seat and uncovered the plate in the middle.
"Slightly stale bread, with every pack of strawberry jam I could find!" 
Will laughed.
"Fancy," He said.
"merci, merci!" Mike called as he handed Will one of the pieces of bread on a pencil-skewer. He laughed.
After the laughter died, they toasted their bread in silence. Mike was speculating his next move, all the while looking at Will and trying to figure out if he was making the right choice. 
They didn't talk even when they started eating. Maybe it was just Mike's stress, but the air seemed loaded. The only sound is the soft singing from the discman and the slight crunching of the toasted bread in their mouths.
"So..." Will said when he finished his bread, "thanks. this was really good." He smiled at Mike, and Mike saw a little spot of strawberry red jam on the side of his mouth. 
"Will I- uh- well, I have something to tell you." Mike said, looking straight into the beautiful hazel eyes.
"What's up?" Will asked, his tone lighthearted. Mike took a deep breath.
"Well, I think I- and it's okay if you don't, I just really need to tell you that I- I- I like you, Will."