Chapter Text
🛵 ᯓ⋆.ೃ 🌀
1991, March 17th
Mike sits in the hard wooden chair at the library’s desk, holding his breath as he watches the screen load. The little wheel taunts him for a moment, his eyes flicking over to where Holly sat in the chair next to him. She was here for the books— obviously. After reading A Wrinkle in Time over and over again, she decided to embark on a journey through the rest of the author’s bibliography. It was a lofty goal, yes, but Holly defeated Vecna. What’s a few books? She was also here for moral support— to congratulate him or comfort him, depending on the outcome.
College applications. Horrible, horrid, college applications. In the last two years, Mike has spent endless time figuring out what on earth he would do with his life. He’s tried many, many things—from painting and drawing like Will, making music, baking, and photography like Jonathan, to writing news articles like Nancy. And at every one of them, he sucked. He sucked so hard. Eventually, he ended up right back where he started. Dungeons and Dragons. He looked through his books again in a downward spiral— when he realized possibly the best idea he’s had in years. Be a storyteller.
So, here he was, two years later, one and a half books deep, applying for colleges to gain a creative writing degree. And finally, after what felt like a million years, the screen loaded. Mike shut his eyes tight, reaching for the mouse.
“Holly, is it on the screen?” Mike asked, scrolling aimlessly.
“No, no, not yet,” She murmured, leaning over his shoulder. Mike felt her hand over his, taking the mouse. He heard her click away for a moment.
“You can open your eyes,” Holly hummed. He obliged, eyes scanning over the letter they’d automated with his name in place. His eyes locked on a particular sentence, “Based on your application, we do not believe you will be a good match for our program.”
Mike felt like there was a frog in his throat. How, how on earth did he get rejected from a safety school? Instantly, all of his hopes melted from his brain. He frantically searched for the following letter, waiting for each screen to load one by one. Denied. Denied. Denied. Waitlisted. And… accepted?
Wait, he got accepted.
Mike turned to Holly, who seemed to read it at the same time as he did. They cheered, hugged, then cheered some more. In his panicked blur, he hadn’t even checked which college it was. So, with a broad smile, he looked up to the top of the letter. His smile slowly faded, gaze stuttering back to Holly. Her face was confused for a split second, smile fading with Mike’s.
Hartland College.
“It’s, uh… It’s nothing, Holly, I’m still excited, it’s just that… um, it’s Will’s college,” Mike uttered, mustering up a small, awkward smile.
He hadn’t uttered his name in so long, but now… he couldn’t stop thinking it.