Waving Goodbye
Tea_For_One_Please
Sunday, August 13th, 1989
“Do you have to go?” Mike complained. Will was sat cross-legged on his bedroom floor, writing ‘kitchen’ in Sharpie on a large cardboard box. Will paused, apparently considering his question.
“Do I have to go to college..?” He tapped the Sharpie on his lip thoughtfully. Mike threw one of his pillows at him, missing entirely and knocking a pot of pencils off his desk.
“You know what I mean, asshole.”
“I actually don’t, and it’s always nice when we use pet names, sweetie.” Will set aside the box and started writing ‘art stuff’ on another. Mike, feeling guilty, got up off the bed and righted the pot and its pencils.
“I mean, why do you have to go so soon? Your course doesn’t start for another three weeks.” His task complete, he sat down next to his boyfriend. “What’s this box for?”
“Clothes. And I don’t have to go now, but I want to. I want to settle in and make friends before I start. I’m…” he paused, apparently hesitant. Mike frowned.
“What, Will?” He took the opportunity to take Will’s hand in his own. Will sighed.
“I’m terrified, Mike. I’ve never been away from home for this long, I’ve only ever lived in Hawkins, and… I’m really worried everyone is… is going to be better than me.”
“Bullshit. No one’s better than you.” Mike said promptly, and Will smiled fondly.
“Now who’s talking bullshit? But seriously though, Mike, I know you think I’m good but everyone else is too. And besides, I bet everyone else can actually afford to go,” he added with a twinge of bitterness in his voice. Mike squirmed uncomfortably inside; he hated that his family was so much richer than Will’s.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said firmly, in spite of his misgivings. “A scholarship is worth just as much as a set of fees. If anything it’s worth more – it shows you’ve actually earned your place there, right?” Will squeezed his hand and smiled, genuinely this time.
“I guess. Come on, maybe you could actually help me pack instead of taking the stuff out of the boxes.” Mike opened his mouth to protest but Will cut him off. “Don’t deny it, mister, I saw you. Put it all back, and in the right boxes if you know what’s good for you.”
“Yes sir,” said Mike, saluting, as Will picked up the pillow and hit him with it.
Packing took up most of the week, and different members of the Party visited to help Will out between their work shifts. On Monday morning, while Mike, Will and El were still in their pyjamas, Joyce opened the door at nine on the dot to find Max standing there with numerous extra boxes she had “found”, in her words. On Tuesday morning Lucas and Dustin arrived together with a backpack full of various snacks to sustain them, although Will, Mike and Lucas found that their progress was considerably faster after Dustin left for his afternoon shift at the Radio Shack. On Wednesday it was just Will and El at home, and the two made short work of packing up Will’s extensive art supplies into one box, to Joyce’s astonishment. On Thursday Max arrived again; she went through Will’s desk drawers with a plastic trash bag and ruthlessly threw in it everything that she decided Will no longer needed – old notes and bad sketches, broken toys and movie tickets, oblivious to the more sentimental Mike’s protests. Jonathan had Friday off work, so joined Will and Mike in trying to compact his entire wardrobe into the last two boxes, until Joyce returned from work, tutted at their combined incompetence and showed them how to do it. On Saturday, Mike, Lucas, El and Hopper pitched in to help Will load up his car, squeezing everything except Will’s backpack into the rear seats and trunk, until with a peculiar finality, Will closed the trunk and locked it.
