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Robin. Robin Buckley, the quiet band geek, Steve’s best friend, the one who knew Barb before her… how could she be so brilliant? Nancy Wheeler had to admit, when she’d first seen Robin, she hadn’t thought much of her – she’d looked out of place, a messy haired, freckled girl who was with Steve. She hadn’t known, hadn’t acknowledged, Robin.
At school, she’d never had a chance to meet this Robin. They were, to be perfectly honest, on completely different ends of the social rope – Robin was a band kid, a bit of an outcast. The kind of girl who would never become a cheerleader, that wasn’t “well known.” Not bad looking – somewhat pretty, actually – but not the kind of girl who was always on some jock’s arm. The kind of girl who would loath that kind of person, actually. She was decidedly the opposite of Nancy Wheeler. When Steve had first formally introduced them, she couldn’t have possibly imagined that this Robin, who seemed so… alternative, so different, so sarcastic, could grow to be a person she admired. Robin, who stood by her ex boyfriend, by Steve Harrington, at all times. A girl who she’d sworn at first, was the kind of person who she wouldn’t even want to have coffee with. How could those feelings have changed, so very quickly? Feelings about Robin, about a person who she – oh, it pained her to think it – had perhaps developed a… a… oh, lord… crush on.
But ever since the drama all started again, ever since the whole Demogorgon business returned to kick them all in the butt, she’d been paired up with Robin. At first, she’d turned her nose up at the idea, the idea of having to spend time with this random girl, with this loner. She’d guessed that it would prove to be a chore, a waste of her time. She could work alone, handle things alone, or at least with anyone but this odd new girl, who dressed so strangely, who really didn’t seem normal. And boy oh boy, was she wrong about that one…
Because this oddly dressed alternative girl, was smart. Perhaps, Nancy occasionally thought, smarter than her (and this thought filled her with jealousy, yet simultaneously with a sense of admiration, a sense of interest.) Robin Buckley, who few people at school knew of, was a quick thinker – she cracked codes with ease, nothing had to be explained to her twice. In fact, throughout their mission, Robin had explained things to her multiple times, things that she herself didn’t immediately get. This girl, who she’d thought would be a drag, proved to be of great assistance. For once, she felt as though she may have met her intellectual equal, a fellow woman who liked to understand things and who did understand things. A pretty girl who might stay up with her and discuss Chemistry books, a pretty girl who could teach her things…
Pretty. That was what Robin Buckley was. No, not pretty, more than pretty – gorgeous. Nice, soft looking hair that could grow messy quickly, but even the messiness somehow suited Robin. Pretty blue eyes, a nice, slim nose, such pretty, luscious lips. A voice with some rasp to it that only contributed to the appeal of Robin Buckley. She hated to think of it, hated to think any of these things, tried so, so very hard to repress these thoughts. Women could find other women pretty, but they weren’t supposed to like other girls. No, no, she was supposed to like Jonathan.
But the longer she spent around Robin, searching through the Creel House, the harder and harder it became to even think of Jonathan. He’d changed so much, anyhow – he smoked marijuana (how could he stand to?,) and he’d made new friends, weird new friends… friends that weren’t good-weird, like Robin, but bad-weird. The kind of people who she truly would hate to be around. She’d tried to fight it, tried to fight the fact that with every moment they spent together, the more it was that she liked Robin, that she tried to be a good girl and fight the urge to just turn and kiss Robin… but this urge was growing into active desire, and she didn’t know how much longer she could maintain the façade. She didn’t want Robin to know, couldn’t let her know, not sweet Robin, with her sexy voice and her oddly attractive manner of dressing. She shouldn’t like Robin, she shouldn’t. She shouldn’t like any girl, it wasn’t right. It wasn’t normal. And Nancy Wheeler, Nancy Wheeler had never been wrong, had never been unusual. Loving a woman, if you weren’t a man, was forbidden, was disgusting… or at least it was supposed to be. Loving Robin made her feel guilt, but Nancy knew that this wasn’t Robin’s fault – and in spite of the guilt it made her feel, there was a part of her that didn’t feel bad about it. A part of her that felt it was right to like Robin, that even though she could never tell Robin, that even though she could never tell anyone, that perhaps it wasn’t fair that loving Robin was wrong in the eyes of others. She’d never pined after a woman like this, never pined after anybody like this.
But Robin Buckley, with her tomboyish ways and her unusually high intellect… well, Robin Buckley was making Nancy Wheeler question her way of being. Because Robin Buckley was far too irresistible to not have a crush on – she was truly someone to pine after, more than Steve Harrington, far more than Jonathan. She was odd, she was sarcastic, she was intelligent… and she was all that Nancy Wheeler wanted.