It's hot the day that Will Byers first realizes that he might be different. He will remember this more vividly than anything else once he becomes a man. Sweat tickles the nape of his neck and pools into the bends of his knees as he gently rocks back and forth, back and forth, on the child-sized swings. His palms are wet as he grips the metal chains on either side of him. Everybody is small, but he's still smaller, his feet barely touching the ground, even though he's on the lowest swing. The tips of his toes drag on the loose gravel of the playground, dirtying his shoes. He likes watching them turn from white to dusty gray.
Will wants to play with other kids, but he's afraid, because he doesn't know anybody. He didn't go to Pre-School and he hasn't been to a daycare since Jonathan turned eight. So, he sits here, and hopes that some group will need another person for a game and come and get him. Or maybe somebody will want to swing too and want to swing with him and then he'll have his own friend.
And that's exactly what happens, in it's own way.
One minute Will's looking out at the sprawling playground, wishing more than anything to be a part of it, and the next, he's got company. A boy, taller than him, dressed in a brand new shirt, and tan pants, hair blacker than the night sky and cut kind of crooked—as if he couldn't hold still long enough for the hairdresser to do it properly. He doesn't introduce himself, but what he does say is better.
"Do you wanna be my friend?"
Will smiles—smiles so big and so hard his cheeks hurt, because, yes, this is what he wants more than anything in the world!
"Yeah," Will says with a laugh, and his new friend smiles too, just as big, all teeth and freckled skin and baby cheeks.
That's when Will feels it, a pull, just behind his heart, flowing all the way down to his stomach. Like he swallowed butterflies made of fire and sunshine.
"I'm Mike," his friend says, holding his hand out, oh so official.
"Will," he gets in return. When they shake, both of their hands are sweaty, but Will doesn't mind. He just asks, "Do you want to swing with me?"
And Mike does! Because they're friends now, and like friends do, they talk about everything; how Will's brother is a year older than Mike's sister, their favorite toys, their favorite comics, though Will's collection's bigger, because he can actually read more than just the strips. Eventually, they have to go inside, and they sit next to each other there too, during story time,and art time, and playtime. And somewhere between Mike telling Will that he likes his drawing of a rocket ship and Willbeing amazed that Mike doesn't need use his fingers to count, William Byers decides that he's going to marry Michael Wheeler.
It's perfect in his five-year-old mind. He and Mike would live in the castle he's always drawing at home. And they'd have a great big TV, an actual color TV, and there would be a blanket fort, and no bedtime ever and they'd be together, just him and Mike, always. Just him, and Mike, and all the butterflies in his tummy.
When he shares his idea, Mike wholeheartedly agrees; and they spend the rest of class planning a wedding in space, with five different kinds of cake, mashed potatoes, and Mike's mom's lasagna. It'll be on Halloween and everyone will wear costumes and eat candy before dinner. Everybody that shows up gets a puppy. It's perfect.
"It's perfect," he squeals at Jonathan, after nearly fifteen solid minutes of chatter about his day; starting with the swings and ending with marrying Mike in space and moving to Castle Byers. Jonathan had picked him up at the front doors and is slowly walking him home. Slowly, because every time Will gets excited, he needs Jonathan to look at him, to watch him bounce up and down and emphasize by flailing his arms this way and that. Jonathan does this with a bemused smile, because even if he's ten, and way too cool to be hanging around his little brother, he really does care about him. He isn't smiling now though, not after this story, and with the bluntness that only a child can possess, Jonathan says,
"You can't marry a boy, Will."
Will stops, a little hurt, but mostly just confused. That doesn't make sense. People marry boys all the time. Even his mom married a boy. So, why can't he?
"Why?"
"You just can't."
Jonathan puts a hand between Will's shoulder blades and guides him forwards so that they're walking again.
"But why?" Will persists.
"You just can't, Will!"
Jonathan wants his little brother to be quiet. There are other kids walking—grown-ups, too. Someone might hear. Will stomps a foot and lets out a high pitched sound of frustration, and though he count the number of tantrums his brother's thrown on one hand, Jonathan can feel this one coming a mile away.
"Okay, okay, wait." He turns Will to face him, kneeling on the ground so that their eye to eye. "Look, boys aren't supposed to like other boys. Boys are supposed to like girls."
"What?! But I like MIKE!" Will practically wails, tears welling up in his huge eyes. Will hadn't even talked to any girls today. Why would he want to marry one when he had a friend that was so much better? Plus, Mike liked comics!
"I know you like Mike," Jonathan soothes. "You can be friends with Mike. Nobody's saying you can't. You just can't marry Mike, Will. It's against the law."
"That's stupid! The law's stupid! Who says...W-Who says..." Will's hiccuping now, working himself up into a fit, tears starting to stream down his cheeks, and Jonathan prays, actually prays, even though he only goes to church once a year, that his brother is just confused, because Will's known this kid Mike for all of four hours, and has no idea about the birds and the bees or life and Jonathan is NOT about to teach him.
"Hey, hey, now," he strokes Will's hair like their Mom does when her boys are sick, "it's okay, Will, I promise. Hey, listen," he holds his brother's face in his hands. "you can like Mike all you want, okay? But you know why you can't get married?"
"Why?" Will sniffles.
"Because you're five. The law says you're too little. Gotta wait 'til you're a bit older, okay?" And Jonathan smiles his big brother smile, hoping that it gets rid of the hurt.
"Oh."
Will sticks his lower lip out in a stupid pout and Jonathan can't help but laugh, because he looks ridiculous, cheeks mushed between his hands, eyes watery, skin blotchy red.
"Well, how long do I have to wait?" Will asks.
"Mmm," Jonathan hums, squinting his face up, "until you're about eighteen."
Will groans dramatically and Jonathan ruffles his hair, playful this time, hoping that the worst has passed. That this is just a phase, a misunderstanding.
"So, do I get to see that rocket ship you made?" Jonathan asks, changing the subject as quickly as possible.
"No, I gave it to Mike."
"Of course you did."
"He said it was the BEST ship he'd ever seen! He's gonna put it on his wall and everything!"
At the end of the day, William Byers still wants to marry Michael Wheeler, but the saying boys aren't supposed to like other boys lingers for a long time.