Chapter Text
Fall of 1987
A month into the school year.
A new student walked into the classroom. The chatter died instantly as everyone looked up, the room falling into a sudden, awkward silence.
“Oh—and you must be… William Byers!”
“Uhm— yeah, it is.” He replied.
“Alright then. You can sit over there, next to Michael Wheeler. Michael, raise your hand, please.”
A black-haired boy raised his hand, curls falling messily across his forehead. His dark brown eyes locked onto the new kid.
Will paused, staring back at him for a moment before making his way to the empty seat and sitting down beside him.
Mike stole a glance at him, caught off guard by how— distracting he was. The chestnut-brown hair, mostly straight, looked soft in a way that annoyed him. And his eyes—hazel, ordinary at first glance, yet somehow warm.
Too warm.
Will noticed.
He met Mike’s gaze, clearly confused, and stared back for a second too long before speaking. “Uh, why are you looking at me like that?” His brows furrowed, half confused, half amused. “Is there something wrong, or—?”
Mike blinked, snapping out of it. “I wasn’t—” He stopped himself, realizing he had no excuse, and only made it worse by continuing to stare.
Will leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing. “Yeah, right. You definitely weren’t staring. Why don’t you go stare at someone else—or maybe actually pay attention to the class?”
Annoyance flared hot in Mike’s chest. At himself, mostly. He’d had one chance to say something normal, and he already screwed it up.
That irritation only deepened further when he realized how drawn he’d been in the first place. William Byers was acting like a complete fucking dick, and Mike had no idea why that made him more frustratingly interested.
Fine then— if this is how William Byers wanted to act, Mike could play along.
He turned slightly in his chair, angling his body just enough to face forward again, but not before letting his knee bump Will’s under the desk. It wasn’t hard. Barely even intentional.
Will stiffened immediately.
Mike noticed.
“Problem?” Mike asked under his breath, eyes still trained on the board like he was the picture of innocence.
Will shot him a look, glaring at him. “God— just fuck off.”
Mike’s mouth twitched. “Aw— but you started this.”
“I literally didn’t,” Will snapped, lowering his voice when the teacher glanced their way. “You were the one staring like a creep.”
Mike leaned back in his chair, expression smug. “Maybe I just like observing.”
“Observing what?” Will hissed.
Mike’s eyes flicked over him—quick, deliberate—before meeting his gaze again. “You.”
Will felt heat creep up his neck, immediate and unwelcome. “Great to know I’m going to be sitting with a weird guy that can’t keep his eyes off me for one second—“
“And yet,” Mike cut him off, talking quietly and tilting his head. “you keep talking to me.”
“That’s because you won’t leave me alone.”
“Same difference.”
Will clenched his jaw, fingers curling around his pen until his knuckles went pale. He turned back to the board, determined to ignore him this time. Actually, ignore him.
Mike watched him anyway.
The teacher’s voice droned on, filling the room, but Mike barely heard it. Will’s leg bounced beneath the desk—fast, restless—like he was wound too tight. Mike noticed the way he kept tugging at the sleeve of his shirt, the way his shoulders stayed tense like he was bracing for something.
Mike noticed the way Will’s jaw stayed clenched, like he was holding himself together by sheer force of will. It was— interesting. Infuriatingly so.
He shifted in his seat, just slightly, the movement subtle enough to look accidental as his knee brushed Will’s under the desk.
Will stiffened immediately.
He didn’t look over. Didn’t react at first. His leg stopped bouncing, frozen mid-motion, like his body had short-circuited before his brain could catch up.
Mike waited.
A second passed, then another.
Slowly, Will dragged his legs away, pressing his knees together as if that alone could put an end to it. His shoulders lifted with a quiet breath, sharp and controlled.
Mike smiled to himself, glancing at Will.
“God, you’re distracting.” Will muttered suddenly, still staring straight at the board.
Mike leaned closer, resting his elbow on the desk. “Funny, I was thinking the same thing.”
Will turned his head, eyes flashing. “Jesus– it’s my first day here, give me a break–”
Mike raised his hands in mock surrender, grin still firmly in place. “Relax, I’ll behave now.”
Will didn’t believe him for a second.
Neither of them did.
-
After what felt like an eternity—or really only twenty minutes—the bell rang, and the classroom erupted into movement. Students crowded the halls, muttering about their next class.
Mike grabbed his things slowly, letting his eyes glance over at Will’s. He didn't exactly like him so far, but there was something about him that felt different. He just didn’t know what– besides the fact that William Byers is one of the most irritating people he's met at Hawkins High.
He shoved his notebook into his bag, slinging the strap over his shoulder as he stood. The chair legs scraped loudly against the floor as he pushed it back, the sound blending into the general chaos of the classroom emptying out.
Mike told himself he was done thinking about William Byers for now.
That he didn’t care whether Will looked back at him or not.
He glanced over anyway.
Will was already up, moving fast, his bag clutched tight against his side like he was trying to outrun the room itself. His shoulders were stiff, jaw set, eyes fixed straight ahead—like if he didn’t look back, none of this would follow him.
Mike frowned.
He was trying to tell himself that Will was just going to find his second period. That he didn’t want to be late.
Mike turned around, heading towards his locker only to find Dustin and Lucas already waiting for him. They seemed to be having an argument about something—most likely stupid.
“No! I already told you how stupid that would be!”
“Clearly your brain hasn’t developed much since seventh grade.”
“Wow, such an immature comeback, Dustin.”
“No— my comeback was much more mature than anything you could've come up with.”
“Whatever. Hey— Mike, you good? You look disappointed– or something like that.”
Mike blinked, snapping out of it. “What? No. I’m fine.”
Lucas raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You’ve been staring into space since the bell rang.”
“Yeah,” Dustin added, squinting at him. “That’s your I’m annoyed but pretending I’m not face.”
Mike scoffed, shifting his bag higher on his shoulder. “I’m just tired, first period sucked.”
“There’s this new kid,” Mike said, the words coming out sharper than he meant to. “William Byers or whatever. He’s—” he cut himself off, jaw tightening. “He’s annoying.”
“Oh— speaking of new kids,” Dustin butted in. “There’s this new girl in my first period.”
Mike barely reacted at first, still half stuck on Will’s rigid shoulders disappearing into the hallway. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Dustin continued, warming up immediately. “She’s quiet. Like, really quiet. Barely talked at all. The teacher said her name was Jane.”
Lucas looked at him, a bit confused. “Jane?”
“Yeah– Jane Hopper-Byers, I think,” Dustin continued. “Has the same last name as your little problem over there.”
Mike’s head snapped up. “What?”
“Pretty sure they’re siblings, or step-siblings at least.” Dustin added. “That’s what I heard. They look alike, kinda hard to miss.”
As if on cue, Lucas shifted his weight and nodded toward the far end of the hall. “Wait– Dustin, is that her?” He grabbed Dustin’s arm, turning him around
Mike turned.
Will had slowed near the lockers, a girl walking beside him now. Her hair was chestnut brown like his, but longer and more wavy, pulled back messily. She stayed a bit close to him, hands tucked into the sleeves of an oversized jacket, eyes flicking around the hallway like she wasn’t used to being seen.
Will leaned down slightly, saying something Mike couldn’t hear.
Jane smiled. Small– careful.
Something in Mike’s chest tightened.
“Huh, she seems nice.” Dustin spoke, looking right at her.
“Yeah,” Lucas agreed. “Not exactly threatening.”
Mike swallowed. “Yeah– unlike her shitty brother—”
“Dude— you’re still mad?” Lucas shot him a look, brows furrowing at him.
“I’m not mad,” Mike automatically said, clearly at least a bit pissed.
Dustin snorted, glancing at Mike. “You’re definitely mad.”
“I’m just saying,” Mike continued, ignoring him, “he acts like everyone’s out to get him.”
From down the hall, Jane glanced back– just briefly—and her eyes met Mike’s.
She didn’t look annoyed.
She looked curious.
Mike looked away first.
“Well,” Dustin said, clapping his hands together, “this is going to be an interesting school year.”
Mike adjusted the strap of his bag, jaw tightening as Will guided his sister forward again, one hand briefly pressing against her shoulder like a silent reassurance.
He told himself it didn’t matter.
That William Byers was just a dumb, irritating asshole.
He kept telling himself that, like everything will be okay.
-
By the time Mike got home, the house was dead silent.
His parents were gone, and so was Nancy—and normally that would be a relief, but today? Today, it just made everything louder.
He kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling like it had personally wronged him. Nothing answered back—just silence.
Mike exhaled sharply through his nose and covered his eyes with an arm, as if that could block out his thoughts. It didn’t. If anything, the quiet made them louder.
William Byers.
The name alone made his jaw tighten.
“Such a dick,” he muttered. “God.”
He replayed the day whether he wanted to or not. The way Will had snapped at him—saying he was staring at him. (Which—he was not! What the hell?) And worse, the way Mike had actually enjoyed it. The whole thing.
That part pissed him off the most.
He sat up abruptly, tugging at his curls, flipping the remote through channels without watching. Every commercial was too loud. Every show was irritating.
He hated this. Or thought he did. He hated how easily Will got under his skin. A new kid at Hawkins High, and yet– he couldn’t stop thinking about him.
Everything was supposed to be normal. Senior year. Graduate. Leave this shithole called Hawkins, Indiana. So why couldn’t he focus now? Why couldn’t he act normal at this moment?
Mike flung the remote onto the floor. His hand gripped his hair, tugging slightly.
“Fuck this! Fucking hell…”
He heard footsteps behind him, looking up to see who it was.
“Uh— are you, like, okay?” Nancy’s voice was cautious, half confused, half weirded out as she looked at him.
Mike let out an irritated noise, stood, and stormed off to his room.
“Weirdo,” she muttered, watching him go.
-
He shut his bedroom door harder than necessary, the click of the latch echoing too loud in the quiet house. Mike leaned back against it for a second, breathing through his nose like that might steady him.
It didn’t.
He dragged a hand down his face and crossed the room, falling onto his bed and laying down on it. The posters on his walls felt stupid suddenly, familiar in a way that made his chest itch. Everything in this room screamed before—before senior year, before graduation, before William Byers showed up and wrecked his ability to think straight.
He stared up at his ceiling– exhausted, irritated, annoyed— a bunch of confusing things mixed up in his head.
Mike twisted over in bed, pulling the blanket over his head, trying to shut out the memory of Will. The way he would smirk, the way he would talk, the way he looked– Why did he have to be so– frustrating? The thought made him groan. He hated thinking about him. He really did.
He hated everything about Will Byers, he thought.
Mike rolled onto his side, blanket tangled around his legs, staring at the glow of the streetlight bleeding through his curtains. His thoughts wouldn’t slow down, and more often than not, his little ‘interaction’ with Will replayed uninvited.
God damnit, Will Byers. Fine— he’ll continue this little game, continue whatever this was.
And if Will’s stupid smirk made his stomach twist in a way he refused to examine—
Well.
That didn’t mean anything.
Not at all.