Summer Savings [Byler]

Chapter 9

At some point in the night, Will must have succeeded, because the next thing he knew was Mike shaking him, his face a mere few inches away, as morning sunlight filtered through the big bay windows.

"Wake up, Will!" He grinned down at Will, who was struggling to open his eyes, and was clearly holding in a scream due to waking up to such a lack of space between him and Mike.

"Sorry that it's early, but my mom made waffles for breakfast and she told me to bring you some, so we can eat in my room," Mike sat back on his heels, giving Will more space, and indicated two plates piled high with waffles, and a collection of sauces and toppings.

"Oh, wow, thanks," Will grinned, sitting up and reaching for a plate.

Mike smiled, not looking up from his food as he added topping after topping to the waffles. The two began to eat in silence, the only sounds in the room the rustling of bed sheets if one of them moved.

Will tore a chunk off of his final waffle, smearing it in syrup. He hadn't dared to look at Mike once, still slightly embarrassed at the prospect that he had woken up after sharing the same "bed" (if you could call it a bed) as him, even though they barely knew eachother.

When his foggy brain began to clear, another thought occurred to Will, causing him to abandon his plate and jump up from his seat.

"Crap! I have work! Mike, Mike, I have to go," Will made a move to the door but was stopped by Mike's hand clamped around his wrist.

"My clothes," he motioned to Will's body.

"Oh, right, sorry," Will raced to the bathroom to change.

As he ran out of the Wheeler's house, determined to make it back to the B and B in enough time to pick up his uniform without being late to the restraunt, part of him, strangely, couldn't help but feel disappointed with Mike's response. He hadn't told Will 'goodbye', they had barely spoke all morning, and Mike seemed to have very suddenly reverted back to being cold and half-hearted during breakfast and there had been no trace of the boy Will had loved speaking to and having the company of the previous day.

Over the next week, Will found himself constantly doing something. He spent his days helping Robin, and occassionally she'd take him out to lunch somewhere or to see a movie, or at the restraunt where the steady flow of people never seemed to cease. And then he was spending more and more time with Max and El, in the city, at work, at the B and B, at Max's house. He saw almost nothing of Mike, a brief wave here, a nod of the head there, the back of one of his brightly coloured billowing shirts disappearing around a corner. Will almost never thought of him, and the den and the sleepover just faded into the background as he made newer, brighter, more reliable memories with El and Max and Robin.

When Will had got back to the restraunt the day he'd left Mike's, he'd still felt the dull sting of hurt, and had told El about it. She and Max bit down on their "I told you so" 's, and instead comforted him. But now, as he strode confidently to the restraunt, eight days later, tying his servers apron around his waist as he walked, he found it stupid that he'd ever even dwelled on Mike. Mike was a dull memory.

The hot breeze blew Will's hair out of his face, the heat stinging his skin as he rolled up his sleeves. The familiar sound of the bell above the door rang as he stepped inside the building, cool air calming the fire on his exposed arms and face. As always, El and Max had beat him there, and were sipping their smoothies calmly. They'd taken to leaving one out ready for Will, and there it sat, tauntingly, as he walked over to them and collapsed into a stool and placed his head on the bar table.

"Hey, sleepy-head, you are at work, you know? It's not bedtime," Max chuckled at her own remark, patting Will on the back as he sat up, yawning.