Chapter Text
Since Max and Lucas hosted Friendsmas, everyone agreed that it was Mike and Will's turn to host for New Year's Eve. Their dorm was the same size as the one Jane shared with Dustin, but the second bedroom was hardly used for sleeping now; when Will had showed Joyce and Hopper for Christmas, the room had been set up for him to paint in, and for Mike to write. When it came time for New Year's Eve, the door remained shut, which made the dorm smaller but somehow cosier.
Jane lingered by the living room wall, and watched the two boys in the kitchen. She watched them whisper back and forth about whether they should stay in the dorms next year or try to find an apartment, and the whole time neither of them could keep their hands to themselves. Will stood at the counter, putting together a tray of foods, while Mike stood behind him with his hands cradling the shorter boy's hips. Will fed him bites of food over his shoulder, and Mike thanked him every time with a kiss to his cheek. Jane didn't know Mike well, and his list was still fairly sparse, but she knew for certain how much he adored her brother. He could see it in Will's smile.
Not far from where Jane stood, Max had secured the single armchair, with Dustin and Lucas fighting for the last remaining spot on the tiny couch, since the other two saved for Will and Mike. Both of them were taking this all too seriously. They gripped each others' wrists, bending their sides this way and that to steer the other away while trying to claim the seat for themselves. If they weren't laughing so much, Jane would have been worried. Eventually, Lucas claimed the seat with a cheer, and collapsed into it.
"Honestly, dude, I don't know what you thought would happen," he said. Dustin huffed dramatically, the tiniest quirk of his lips telling Jane that he wasn't as upset as he let on. He sank to the floor, brought he knees to his chest, and leaned against Lucas' legs.
"Yeah, yeah, pardon me for trying to face off with Mr Athlete."
With perfect timing, Will brought over the trays of food; one of his one creation, and one full of baked goods Jane has spent all day making. He set them on the coffee table in front of the couch, then took his place beside Lucas. Mike immediately sat beside him to fill up the couch, and turned to the wall.
"Hey, Jane! What are you doing standing all the way over there?"
Unable to hide, Jane's smiled turned teasing. "I did not want to get bumped by Dustin or Lucas. The fight for the couch seemed serious."
"Hey!"
She signed a 'J' for all to see, and shuffled over to the others. Lucas had the decency to look sheepish, and handed her an empty to her the second she was in reach.
"We're gonna need help finishing all this food Will put out. Promise I won't fight you over it," he said with a wink, like it was an inside joke just between them.
She looked over the spread, plate in hand. Cheese, crackers, cured meats, with dips and dried fruits all covering every inch of the tray. It all looked incredible, and after a day of baking and forgetting to eat, her stomach grumbled at the promise of food.
"Mike, love, grab Jane a drink? Nothing too strong." Will murmured. Mike bit back a huff at only just sitting down, but kissed Will's cheek and got to his feet, ever obedient.
"Sure. Jane, you thirsty? We still have heaps of that cider from Friendsmas."
Jane blinked, and glanced to the kitchen with a grin. It smelled of apples and vanilla, and sweet spices that stoked warmth in her chest.
"Yes, please."
Mike smiled back, and walked into the kitchen in search of a mug. His absence left a space on the couch next to Will; the idea of taking it turned Jane's stomach with guilt. She knew, realistically, that she could take it. Mike would pout and be upset for a minute, but Will would kiss his cheek and he would stop complaining immediately. Or maybe Will would be upset with her. Even the briefest thought of it made Jane's heart sink. Instead, she stared at the empty couch spot, and questioned where to sit where there were no more seats.
"Jane."
Dustin. He sat on the ground in front of Lucas, his back leaning against his legs. He sent Jane his signature smile, and patted the ground beside him. The moment she began to move over, he stole a cushion from the couch to set down in her spot. She sent him a grateful smile, and took her place on the pillow. Now in front of Will, she gently leaned against his legs. The size of the coffee table coaxed Jane to shuffle a few inches closer to Dustin, both sets of their legs squeezed underneath in an effort to get comfortable. Jane oddly didn't mind how close they were; she hoped Dustin didn't either.
Lucas reached for the remote and turned on the New Year's broadcast; they were far enough away from the city center that they missed out on the chaos, but close enough to see the fireworks through the dorm's small windows. Mike came back with a cup of cider for Jane, which she eagerly took in hand. Max turned the radio louder, and the six of them settled into the celebrations.
"Do you guys have New Year's resolutions?" Will asked, smile earnest and eyes sparkling. Lucas looked up, and raised a hand.
"Does less time on the bench count? Because that."
"That counts," Mike said. "I was just gonna say 'pass my subjects'."
"Okay, that barely counts," Max argued. "That's just a basic goal, not a resolution."
"Fine, what's yours then?"
"Not miss any physical therapy."
Mike opened his mouth, then closed it; Jane thought he looked like the photo of a fish Hopper caught that Joyce had shown her.
"Good one," Mike relented. "And it's not midnight yet, cut me some slack."
Every minute to midnight approached faster than the last. The cup of cider Mike gave her was warm, smelled divine (a new word she loved thanks to their D&D sessions), and made her head feel fuzzy. It felt nice, but a little disarming. She was trying so hard to think of a good New Year's resolution, but thinking grew more difficult with every sip. She set down the cup when her head began to spin a little too much and closed her eyes. The couples were wrapped in each other, in the way only two minutes to midnight on New Year's Eve could encourage.
"You alright?"
Dustin had noticed. He always seemed to notice her.
Jane nodded, but the motion made her head spin. She frowned, and managed the tiniest shake of her head.
"Dizzy," she mumbled, and leaned into his side. She couldn't see his face now, but somehow she knew that his brows would be furrowed. He raised his arm, and gently draped it over Jane's back.
"Are you okay?" he asked. It was practically the same question, but the care in his tone seemed different. The concern ran a little deeper, the softness a little more obvious. She didn't know what it meant, and right now didn't have the motivation to figure it out. Instead, she into his shoulder and shifted even closer.
"Cold."
He didn't respond at first. Instead, his arm moved slowly and pulled Jane against his side. He was warm, and his arm was the perfect sort of heavy, like a thick blanket keeping the monsters in the dark at bay. He smelled like clean laundry and something woodsy; Jane took a deep breath in.
"This okay?" he asked quietly. "I can get your coat instead if you like."
She shook her head. "This is nice."
"Nice" didn't quite feel like enough, but her head was spinning too much to find a better one. Jane was always extra aware of her body when she was close to someone else. She overthought were her arms should go when she hugged Will, and where to put her hands on the table during their D&D games. But here, she didn't need to think. Her arms rested in her lap, and her body lay flush against Dustin's side. Her frame was loose, like a coil finally unwound after years of tension, and a better-fitting word popped into the place of "nice". Safe.
"What's your resolution?" she asked, words blending together.
"For New Year's?"
She nodded into his shoulder, the fabric of his sweater brushing against her cheek. "I can't think of a good one."
"Five!"
Jane opened her eyes as the Party counted down to the New Year.
"Four!"
She looked up at Dustin, their faces close together.
"Three!"
Their eyes met, hazel and blue locked together.
"Two!"
Jane swore that Dustin's eyes flicked down to her mouth then back up.
"One!"
They moved closer.
"Happy New Year!" Lucas cheered at the top of his lungs. Max rolled her eyes and dragged him down for a kiss, and on the couch Mike and Will's mouths met in the same way.
From their places on the floor, Dustin met Jane's eyes, and he smiled.
"Happy New Year," he mumbled. He pulled their bodies flush together, and tucked his chin over her shoulder. One of his arms gently supported her back, while the other was looped around her waist. Something in the way he held her made Jane's breath catch. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders to return the hug, and let the smell of him filled her nose. Warmth bloomed behind her ribcage.
"You're good at this," she whispered. "And you smell really nice."
Dustin's laughter brushed her ear. Jane shivered, but he immediately pulled her closer and rubbed circles on her back to warm her.
"You do, too," he said.
"Hey, off the floor!" Lucas said. "You've been there since—"
Max covered his mouth before he could finish the joke. Laughing, the remaining Party members hoisted Jane and Dustin from the ground, and all wrapped each other in a giggly and clumsy group hug. After what was possibly the world's worst rendition of "Auld Lang Syne," they all flocked to the kitchen to reheat the leftover bakery treats Jane had blessed them with. Huddled in the too-small room, shoulder to shoulder with her brother and friends, Jane wasn't cold anymore.
She completely forgot to ask Dustin about his resolution again.
ೃ⁀➷
College schedules had made spending time together much more difficult to plan than Jane expected. On the days Max was free, Jane worked at the cafe, and when things were reversed Max had appointments that she couldn't miss. Dustin had caught her texting a few nights prior, and commented on how wide her smile was.
"Good things are worth the wait," he'd said, and nodded towards his bedroom door. "I'll make myself scarce that night, but you know where to find me if you run out of snacks or something."
When Saturday night finally arrived, Max arrived with a backpack full of snacks, a takeaway pizza menu, and more colours of nail polish than Jane knew existed. She immediately decided that she liked sleepovers. They sat on the floor of Jane's bedroom, the surface covered with a thrifted checkerboard rug she had found the week earlier. A green sticky note sat on her desk read "knock if you need anything", but there were no boys in sight.
"I can't believe you've never done this before," Max said, tipping out a small bag filled to the brim with brightly coloured nail polish.
"I did not had the chance until now," Jane admitted. The vulnerability threatened to choke her; it would have been so easy for Max to press, to ask what kind of messed up life she had where she'd never had her nails painted.
"Good thing I'm here then," she said instead. Max went quiet for a moment, eyes on Jane's nails. "My mom used to do mine sometimes. I pretended to hate it."
Jane bit her bottom lip, thinking. "Is that what mothers and daughters do?"
"Depends. But, I think Mrs Byers would be cool with it. You should ask when we go back for the summer."
She stared down at her hands while Max worked; purple, yellow, pink and green, all on alternating nails; she wondered if it would bring Joyce the same joy that it gave her.
"I bet I can totally do some fancier stuff on here," Max said. "Can I try?"
Jane tilted her head. "Fancy what?"
"Y'know, like dots, or stars, and stuff. Like little patterns you doodle on notebooks."
She looked at the nails, and grinned at the idea of shapes on her already colourful nails. "Yes, please."
Max's grin got wider, and her tongue poked out in focus as she carefully painted the patterns on each of the nails. She painted a star on one, dots on some, another star, and some spirals, all in contrasting colours. No two nails were the same, and Jane loved it.
"Do you think Joyce would like these?" she asked quietly. Max kept her eyes on her work, vigilant in making sure Jane didn't smudge her hard work away.
"Who cares really? Most important thing is if you like them."
"I do," Jane insisted.
"So, why does it matter if your mom likes them, or not?"
Her next sentence caught in her throat. Jane bit down on her bottom lip, willing the words to come so she could explain, but they were nowhere to be found.
"Sorry." Max was quieter than normal, watching Jane's nails instead of her face. "Will kinda mentioned that you still call her Joyce. Should've just said that instead of… well, y'know."
Jane wanted to tell her that it was okay, but could only manage a few short nods. The air between them grew still and quiet. Pale hands stopped their painting, and carefully sat down the still open bottle of nail polish. Max's hands gently pressed to Jane's palms, her freckled skin soft and cool.
"You don't have to talk about it," she started. "But, sometimes you can do that at sleepovers. Tell each other things that you say you don't want to talk about, but it's really just that you don't know who to say it to."
Hazel eyes looked up from their hands, and found Max watching her like she was a wild animal in the woods. Her eyes went softer, and her lips quirked up at the corners.
"Like… I'm kind of terrified whenever I get into a car. And, I don't think it'll ever go away."
Jane's brows furrowed. "Why?"
Max cocked her head towards her bright red crutches in the corner. "That's how I got those. Car got side swiped, my side got hit. Got left with an incomplete spinal injury, and whole lot of hospital bills."
Jane was summoned all the carefulness she could to gently squeeze Max's hands, determined not to ruin her nails. "I'm sorry."
"Not your fault, J," she said, her hands squeezing back. "I'm way better than I used to be, and I'm getting better. The car thing just fucking sucks."
The room fell quiet after that, the sound of the radio in the corner filling the still January air. Max gave Jane's hand one little squeeze, before letting go and reaching for the clear top coat and inverting the bottle carefully. Jane focused on keeping her hands still, her teeth digging into her bottom lip.
"I don't know how to let her be my mom," she whispered. She watched Max's hands grip the polish bottle a little tighter to keep from dropping it. She opened it slowly, then carefully dragged the clear liquid over the colour of Jane's nails, and spoke just as quietly.
"Tell me about it?"
Goosebumps began to creep up the back of Jane's neck. In her mind, she saw the too bright rainbow painted on a stark white wall, under harsh, cool lighting. She remembered nights in bed with no mother, or brothers; only a too quiet room. She shivered, and tried to ignore the pit in her stomach.
"Where I was before was not nice," Jane confessed. "We were looked after but… as we got older, we were still treated like kids. They said it was better to keep things simple."
Jane felt rather than saw Max's brow furrow. "How'd you get out?"
She frowned, trying to sift through the foggy memory. The harsh lighting flickered, and men with guns stormed the halls. Children and teenagers brought out of the white walled rooms, and out into the sunlight; she remembered sunlight dancing across her skin for the first time. Jane choked on her breath.
She shook her head, chin tucked down into her chest and eyes squeezed shut.
"Hey, it's okay," Max hushed, the hand holding Jane's squeezing gently. "It's okay. You don't have to tell me that part. Tell me more about the Joyce stuff?"
Jane took a long breath, in and out. At the bottom of the breath, she squeezed Max's hand, opening her eyes when she squeezed back. She couldn't look at Max, not yet; she felt too exposed, laid bare with a secret she had kept so close to her chest. So, she kept her eyes on the nails, and traced the patterns of the spiral and the star with her eyes.
"I think I am still a little girl in her head," she murmured after a long beat of silence. "Because I was away from her for so long. But, it makes me feel…" She trailed off, her words escaping her.
"Like you're back where you were before?" Max supplied. Jane nodded. Max went quiet for a while, and dragged the final swipe of clear polish across her pinkie fingernail.
"You should tell her."
"What?"
"From how I've seen her with Will, that's kind of her normal with her kids," Max reasoned. She screwed the lid of the polish bottle tightly on (somehow managing it with one hand), and set it off to the side. "But, if it makes you feel not good, you gotta tell her. I bet she'll be more careful about it with you."
Jane bit back a comeback, her nose wrinkling.
"Do you think so?"
"Totally." Max gently took her hands again, careful not touch the nails, her eyes glinting at the rewards of her hard work. "Worth a shot, at least. And, if it goes to shit, at least you have cool nails."
Laughter bubbled in Jane's throat, and she gently squeezed Max's hands.
"Thank you."
Max grinned, and once again squeezed back. It felt like a promise, a secret ritual that only the two of them knew.
"It's what friends are for," she said, eyes glinting like they had traded much lighter secrets. "And sleepovers, obviously. But, I think we're due to the pizza part of the night."
Jane knocked on Dustin's door only once that night; she gestured to her and Max's pajamas, and asked if he would go downstairs to retrieve their pizza once it arrived. He'd said "yes" and only rolled his eyes once.
The girls feasted on cheese and deep dish pizzas and argued about which kind was better. Max was insistent that they had to try a pizza place back home in Hawkins, to which Jane readily agreed. The radio started to play a song about paper rings; when Jane began to sing along, Max turned up the volume. With the soft hum of the music, Max talking and laughing beside her, and her stomach full from too many slices, she was lulled to sleep faster than any night that came before.
ೃ⁀➷
The campus cafe was a much-needed shelter from the biting Chicago winds. Dustin braved the breeze, tucked his chin to his chest to shield his face from the worst of it, and pushed open the door. He was immediately met with the warmth of the cafe's indoors, and Jane's smile.
She stood at the counter, an apron over her patterned long sleeve shirt, and thin tendrils of hair falling into her face. There was a smear of flour on the apple of her cheek; Dustin shoved the hand not holding his bag into his coat pocket, and squeezed his thumb to keep it busy. Otherwise, he wasn't sure if he'd try to wipe it away.
She waved at him, hazel eyes twinkling in the warm cafe lighting. He couldn't help but smile back, and walked up to the counter.
"Hey," he said, strangely out of breath. He tried not to think about it, or the thumping of his heart in his chest.
"Hello." If Jane noticed his breathlessness, she didn't mention it. "What can I get you?"
Right. He was in a cafe; he looked into the glass cabinet at the rows of baked goods, looking for anything familiar.
"Which ones are yours?" he asked, voice low as if he were sharing a secret. He had a few tucked away by now. Jane smiled at him, none the wiser, and lowered her voice to match.
"The cinnamon rolls are always mine," she admitted, a small hint of pride in her smile. "The brownies are mine today, too."
Dustin opened his bag and rustled around for his wallet. He took the leather in hand, and dug around for a few bills with numb fingers.
"One of each sounds great. And a coffee, with—"
"One sugar, not too much foam, and chocolate powder," Jane finished.
He stood rooted in place, and felt the ice melt from his frame.
"You remembered."
Jane's smile twitched a little higher, the faintest dimple appearing in her cheek the same way it did every time she smiled this wide.
"Practiced."
Dustin knew if he let himself think about that fact too long, he wouldn't get a single piece of study done. Instead, he let himself grin, and took out a few too many notes to hand over to Jane.
"Keep the change."
Her hand reached out to take it, their fingers brushing together before she took the money from his grasp.
"Are you sure?" Her eyes, wide and gold trimmed hazel, searched his; Dustin faintly felt his face grow warmer. Clearing his throat, he tried his best to muster his usual smile for her.
"Yeah. Definitely. Is it okay if I study here? It's freezing outside, and I don't want to walk back to the dorm yet."
"Yes, that's okay." She ran the order through the till, and placed down the docket by the coffee machine. "I can bring everything over to you?"
"I— yeah, that'd be great." Dustin felt his hand cramping in his pocket, his knuckles aching from how tight his fist had been clenched. He watched Jane smile at him, then deftly grab a mug to set under the coffee machine. Her brows pulled together, just enough to wrinkle, and her lips pursed as she walked through the first few steps of making coffee. He stared at the flour on her cheek for longer than he should have.
He withdrew his hand from his pocket, mussing it through his curls and busied himself in finding a seat. For the sake of his study, the further away from the counter it was, the better. He settled on one of the corner seats, a half booth by the cafe window but away from the door. The steady presence of people passing by was enough to keep him motivated, but it was secluded enough that it was unlikely would actually talk to him. Anyone but Jane, hopefully.
Sitting down with a huff, Dustin took a moment to unclench his hand and let the blood flow back into it. When he could feel it again, he dug through his bag and pulled out a few well-worn textbooks at set them on the table beside them. He needed something else to think about.
The astrophysics program was punishing, but in a way that Dustin liked. It challenged him on what he already knew, and pushed his brain to the limits of what he could learn, and how many other concepts it could apply to. Yes, Lucas made astronaut jokes at every possible opportunity, and Dustin corrected him every single time. But, compared to a tiny town like Hawkins where he was surrounded by mouth breathers, this major never once shamed him for being smart. It celebrated it, and encouraged it.
He liked to think that each of the Party's majors fit them perfectly. Jane was still exploring her options, but she'd talked at length with the group about their choices in the limbo between their D&D sessions finishing and everyone going home.
Mike, the forever DM, of course had opted for creative writing. He'd taken a few communications subjects, ones he called his "safety net" for if his writing didn't work out, but Dustin had a feeling he wouldn't need those. Mike was a harsh enough critic on himself, what he needed now was encouragement.
He found his encouragement in Will. Everyone knew that Will was going to study art, but Dustin would never have predicted how much being surrounded by artists would make him flourish. He'd finally escaped his chrysalis, and could create the art he'd always been capable of, and a suitable mess on nearly every pair of jeans he wore around paint.
Lucas trying basketball was something out of left field, but he grew a love for it. In that love, and his love for Max, he'd found exercise science. Dustin got to retaliate every astronaut joke with the fact Lucas literally studied exercise. But, like Lucas, it was resourceful. It helped athletes, it helped those in pain, and most importantly it helped Max.
Max kept her major secret through the entire application process. If she could have kept it forever, it was likely she would have tried, but eventually the cat was let out of the bag; social work. After thought, it made sense. Max was rough around the edges, but the world had made her that way. All of her stubbornness directed at a target was a force to be reckoned with, and her longing for her situation being different as a kid steered the movement. Dustin half remembered that they weren't kids anymore.
"Here you go."
He looked up, and saw Jane standing there with a tray. When forcing himself to take a breath, he inhaled chocolate, coffee, and cinnamon, and felt it warm him from the inside out.
"You are amazing, Jane. Thank you," he said earnestly. He quickly moved some of his textbooks out of the way, letting Jane lower the mug and plates down to the table. Her hands were steady and sure, a great improvement from even the few weeks she'd been here.
"It's alright. Hopefully they will help you with your study."
He laughed quietly, and smiled up at her.
"I'll report back tonight. I'm not sure how long I'm gonna be here, so do you wanna grab takeout for dinner?"
Jane grinned, and nodded immediately. "Whatever you had the other night smelled really good. Can we get that?"
Dustin immediately recognised it as the Mexican place he had ordered after class; he'd spent half the day helping Mike study, and bribed himself with food to get his own homework done. There was a crumpled green sticky note in the bottom of his bag reminding him to ask Jane how she felt about Mexican food he'd written immediately after trying it.
"Absolutely. I'll order when we're both home."
Jane's smile made her nose crinkle and her eyes sparkle. "Yes, please. I should probably get back."
Dustin gave her a playful salute, and crossed his eyes after a second's silence. It earned him a laugh, the loud, unguarded kind that made Jane have to close her eyes completely, and stop in her tracks on the way back to the counter. She reached her destination eventually, but on the few occasions she looked over, she seemed to laugh to herself all over again.
Even if they weren't kids anymore, that same spark of joy that reminded Dustin of his blissful early days reared its head now and then. He tried not to question if it should appear when Jane smiled at him.