[Months ago, when the weather was cold but their house was still full and warm and loud, Mike had decided he was done with secrets. They'd decided it together, really, him and Will, trading nervous words over text: there was nothing to hide, nothing they wanted to hide, and they were ready to let their friends see this wonderful thing they'd built. Even then, Mike had hardly given thought to what it meant. It's one thing to proudly announce your happy relationship, then brush past the implication like it's nothing. It's another to look someone in the eye and tell them the truth.
Normally, he wouldn't think twice about lying, and especially not to Nancy. It's almost second nature, an instinct more than a habit. He could tell her she's crazy, stomp his way upstairs, and then- what? Go on dropping Will's hand every time they enter a room? Watch Nancy squint at him, infuriating and knowing, now that she's picked up the track? It's already all over his face, in the growing silence before his answer.]
Why do you think I don't want to go home?
[He scrunches even farther down in his chair, trying to make himself small. Even his voice, usually too loud for every situation, is uncharacteristically timid. This isn't the kid who fights monsters, or risks his life for his friends - it's the one who came home sobbing the night a body got pulled out of the quarry. It's the one who sat alone in a blanket fort every night for a year, lonely and paralyzed.]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2021-06-20 04:11 am (UTC)Normally, he wouldn't think twice about lying, and especially not to Nancy. It's almost second nature, an instinct more than a habit. He could tell her she's crazy, stomp his way upstairs, and then- what? Go on dropping Will's hand every time they enter a room? Watch Nancy squint at him, infuriating and knowing, now that she's picked up the track? It's already all over his face, in the growing silence before his answer.]
Why do you think I don't want to go home?
[He scrunches even farther down in his chair, trying to make himself small. Even his voice, usually too loud for every situation, is uncharacteristically timid. This isn't the kid who fights monsters, or risks his life for his friends - it's the one who came home sobbing the night a body got pulled out of the quarry. It's the one who sat alone in a blanket fort every night for a year, lonely and paralyzed.]
Mom and Dad'll hate me.