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After their fumbling first dance, Eleven thanked Mike with a gracious kiss on the cheek. She said she had other dates to show off to with her skill, the flourish of her misguided hands almost hitting Mike in the nose. They shared a moment of close laughter, Mike happy that he was able to make a terrifying evening for Eleven a pleasant outing with friends. She touched his hair, tucking it behind his ear and telling him that it was curler than she had seen it– and that she liked it. And she was sure others would too. She was being a kind and gentle faux date, complimenting and flattering Mike. Her words were sincere but benign. But that’s not how Will saw it; halfway across the gym, all he saw was his two friends laughing, touching, and chastely kissing.

The admission of feelings coiling in Will’s throat swelled with a quick gasp of air. Suddenly, he felt lifeless, gutted and empty in the center of the shining streamers. He turned and ran out of the gym, feet stomping just under the blaring music. He slipped past his classmates unnoticed and skirted around Mr. Clarke at the door and outside into the freezing air.

There was a dusting of snow on the asphalt and small flakes falling down on Will. He folded his arms and marched out of the school and into the vast darkness stretching out in front of him. Maybe the black would swallow him up. He just wanted to tell Mike he wanted to dance. He just wanted to say that one damn sentence. Instead, Will was on his way to ruining Mike’s whole evening with Eleven– he didn’t even know they had gone together as dates. He thought they were friends. Will felt humiliated by his own thoughts.

“Will? Will what are you doing?” Mike was behind Will, holding the door open as he called out to him.

“Nothing.” Will lied, pretending to be plotting stars in the sky.

“You’re going to freeze death. Get back in here!” Mike said. “The dance isn’t over yet. Come on.”

“I’m fine. My mom’s coming early.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. There was a payphone around back of the school, Will just hadn’t made the call home yet.

“Why? Is something wrong?” Mike stepped out into the snow and let the door slam behind him. “Did someone say something to you?” Besides the only person asking Will to dance being a girl that called him “Zombie Boy”? No. Nothing.

“I just want to go home, Mike. I’m okay.” Will shrugged and looked down at the entrance to the parking lot, like his mother would appear just by sheer force of will.

“No, you’re not. I can tell.” Mike argued, walking up beside him. “Something’s bothering you.” He placed a hand on Will’s back and he could feel the words dislodge from his throat. They weren’t ready to come out. They sank into his stomach like an airless diving canister; Will’s only hope now was that he could hold his breath long enough to survive the interaction.

“Go back in there and be with your date.” Will said quietly. “Don’t let me interrupt.” He didn’t want to be that person in Mike’s life; the one that came in when everything was good, and wrecked it with his gushy and uncontrollable feelings.

“What?” Mike laughed, leaning down to try and see Will’s face more clearly. “My date? I drove with Nancy. She’s not my date, Will.”

“I’m talking about El.” Will sighed. Why was Mike making him say it? Wasn’t the truth embarrassing enough?

“El? What about her?” Mike leaned further forward, his furrowed expression entering Will’s field of vision. He let himself look at Mike. “She’s off dancing with Max right now. She’s fine.” Will’s shoulders sagged, Mike just not getting the point and the truth sinking its teeth deeper into Will. He was gasping for breath by then.

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