Will Byers didn't know when exactly it started.
If someone asked, he'd probably say the arcade. That felt easy. Safe. A place you could point to.
But if he was being honest — and Will often was, at least with himself — it had started earlier than that. In the classroom. In the hallway. In the parking lot after school, watching Nova Elsher skate, carefree circles while her brother waited nearby, board tipped on its side.
It was the way she moved.
Not fast.
Not flashy.
Just… free.
Like there was nothing in the world more important than skating.
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It was monday morning
Hawkins Middle School hummed with the sound of lockers and voices and shoes squeaking against linoleum.
Class hasn't started yet. Will sat at his usual desk, sketchbook half-hidden under his science notebook. He wasn't drawing — not yet — just tracing the edge of the paper with his thumb, eyes drifting towards behind him.
Nova sat two rows behind him, close to the window as usual. Her skates were gone today, replaced by worn sneakers. Her posture was relaxed, but Will noticed how her foot bounced slightly, heel tapping against the floor like she was counting something.
Knox sat beside her, head tilted, listening to something Will couldn't hear.
Dustin leaned behind him. "Okay, I'm just saying, she totally could've gone pro at Pacman."
Mike didn't look up from his notes. "That's not a thing."
"It could be a thing," Dustin insisted. "If the government cared."
Lucas snorted. "You just don't like that she beat your high score."
"She didn't just beat it," Dustin said. "She erased me, both of them did from the top 5 and maybe the whole leaderboard soon enough."
Will smiled faintly, eyes still on Nova.
She glanced back — just for a second — and caught him looking.
Will froze.
Not like panic-freeze. More like… caught mid-thought. Nova didn't smile. Didn't smirk. She just nodded once, small and subtle, like a quiet acknowledgment.
Then she turned back to Knox who was saying something to her.
Will's ears burned.
Mike noticed. Of course he did.
He looks to his side. "Dude."
Will snapped his sketchbook shut. "What?"
Mike raised an eyebrow. "You're staring again."
"I am not."
Lucas leaned in. "You totally are."
Dustin grinned. "Should we be offended you ditched us at the arcade?"
"I didn't ditch—" Will started, then stopped. He sighed. "I just… talked to her."
Mike's voice softened. "Yeah. We saw."
That made Will pause.
"You did?"
"Yeah," Dustin said. "And honestly? Kind of impressed."
Lucas nodded. "Honestly, I didn't think you had it in you."
Will shrugged. "She didn't make it weird."
Mike studied him for a moment. "You.... like her."
Will opened his mouth — then closed it.
"I don't know," he said quietly.
Which was true.
He didn't know what it was yet. Just that when Nova was nearby, the noise in his head quieted. Like static fading between radio stations.
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After School
Will lingered by the bike racks longer than usual.
He told himself he was waiting for Mike.
He wasn't.
Nova stood near the edge of the parking lot, kneeling to tighten her skate wheels. Knox paced nearby, board under his arm, eyes flicking up every time a car passed.
Will approached slowly, hands shoved into his jacket pockets.
"Hey," he said.
Nova looked up. "Hey."
That was it. No awkward pause. No pressure.
Knox glanced at Will. "Arcade guy."
Will smiled nervously. "Uh… yeah."
Knox nodded. "You're cool."
Then, without explanation, he rolled away across the parking lot.
Will blinked. "Did he just—?"
Nova smirked faintly. "He does that."
She stood, and tested her wheels. "You walking home?"
"Yeah," Will said. "I mean— biking. But, uh… same direction."
Nova nodded. "Oh cool, we were just waiting for our mom."
Nova just skated in the parking lot just close by Will sometimes even circling him and boy was Will aware of her presence in every sense. The sound of her skates rolling softly over pavement. The way she looked ahead, not at him, like she wasn't demanding conversation.
Will liked that.
"You draw," she said suddenly still circling him.
He startled. "What?"
"I've seen your sketchbook," Nova said. "In class."
"Oh," Will said, embarrassed. "It's just… stuff."
"I like stuff."
That made him laugh — a real one, surprised and light.
They heard a honk of a car and Knox already making his way to it.
"I'll see you tomorrow?" Will asked, before he could overthink it.
Nova nodded. "Yeah."
She hesitated — just a fraction — then added, "I'm glad you talked to me at the arcade."
Will swallowed. "Me too."
She rolled away, pushing off smoothly, hair catching the late-afternoon light.
Will stood there long after she was gone.
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At the Byers House — that evening
The house smelled like tomato sauce and old wood.
Joyce hummed quietly in the kitchen, stirring a pot while the radio played softly. Will sat at the table, sketchbook open now, pencil moving on its own.
He didn't mean to draw her.
He just… did.
The curve of motion. The way her hair flew while she skated. The skates weren't perfect — he'd probably redo them later — but the feeling was there.
Joyce glanced over. "Whatcha working on, honey?"
Will tensed. "Nothing."
Joyce smiled knowingly. "That's usually something."
She walked over, wiping her hands on a towel, and peered down.
She froze.
The drawing wasn't inappropriate. It wasn't dramatic.
It was just surprising.
A girl skating. Wind in her hair. Focused. Free.
Joyce's voice softened. "Is that… one of your new friends?"
Will nodded slowly. "Nova."
Joyce studied the page. "She looks… kind?."
Will shrugged, suddenly shy. "She is."
Joyce placed a hand on his shoulder. "I like the way you draw her."
He looked up. "You do?"
"Yeah," Joyce said. "You draw people the way you see them. That matters."
She squeezed his shoulder once, then returned to the stove, humming again.
Will stared at the drawing, heart pounding.
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That Night in Will's Room
The rain started after midnight.
Will lay awake, staring at the ceiling, listening to the sound of it against the roof. He imagined Nova hearing it too — wondered if she liked the sound, or if it made her uneasy.
He didn't know why he wondered that.
He just did.
Outside, thunder rolled faintly.
Somewhere a little far from town, Nova woke suddenly, sitting upright in bed.
Not scared.
Just… aware.
She pressed a hand to her chest, feeling something unfamiliar — not a thought, not a voice. More like a tug.
Like someone was thinking of her.
She smiled faintly, then lay back down, letting the rain lull her back to sleep.
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THE NEXT DAY
At school, Will found a folded piece of paper in his locker.
Inside was a small sketch.
A boy on a bike.
Hair whipping back. Focused forward. Determined.
It wasn't perfect.
But it was him.
At the bottom, in careful handwriting, one word:
— Nova
Will grinned so hard his cheeks hurt.