angelirish19
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“Woah,” Will whispers to himself incredulously, laughing a little under his breath as he shuffles through the pages of the letter again. He can’t help but admire the smooth, off-white stationery, its pleasant weight in his hands. A serious-looking “MJW” watermark adorns the top of each page, totally at odds with the entertaining missive and its author’s garbled cursive. Will laughs quietly to himself again. What sixteen-year-old boy on earth has monogrammed stationery?
Michael J. Wheeler, apparently. Where did Max find this guy?
Mike Wheeler is insecure, even by normal teenage standards. So when his friend, Max, connects him with her old friend from California, he's surprised by how easily they get along. But as the weeks wear on, their letters grow increasingly personal, and they make plans to embark on a week-long trip, Mike can't let go of one inconvenient, anxiety-inducing thought: What if he wants to be more than friends?
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Bookmarked by angelirish19
28 Mar 2026
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After Will moves to Montauk, Sunday night calls become the only thing holding the distance between them. But the dream won’t leave Mike alone.
He returns to the same beach night after night, a place he’s visited too many times before. This time, instead of running, he crosses the water.
Will is waiting. Close enough to touch. Close enough to kiss. And when Mike wakes, the feeling doesn’t fade.
The next morning, alone in an empty house for three weeks, Mike tries to convince himself it was only a dream.
Then a pale yellow envelope arrives in the mail.
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‘And I know that’s silly, because we call on Sunday nights. But it’s not the same. It’s never just you and me anymore. I mean, obviously I like talking to Dustin and Lucas, but they don’t get me. Not like you do.’It’s almost frightening how closely their thoughts mirror each other. Every Sunday he wishes, quietly, that the calls could just be them. No interruptions. No overlapping jokes. Just Will’s voice and the space between them.
He’s never said it out loud.
And now here it is, written plainly in ink, resting between his fingers.
‘I can’t say things to them that I would easily say to you. No one knows me like you do, Mike,'
Bookmarked by angelirish19
21 Feb 2026