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Robin wouldn’t say she was good at bowling.
She wasn’t necessarily bad either, it was just that sometimes she hit the pins, sometimes the ball went directly in the gutter and she turned to see Steve wincing comically.
(Not that it mattered - she’d lose all the games in the world if it meant she got to see Steve smile when she jokingly punched his shoulder in response, the shadows that lurked behind his eyes most days recently temporarily disappearing from view. The sympathetic smile she got from Nancy never hurt either, especially when accompanied by the warmth in Robin’s stomach that it never failed to create.)
After this particular failure (no pins - the ball barely made it halfway down the alley before veering off to the side) Eddie cupped his hands over his mouth and whooped, loud enough to turn heads in the aisle next to them.
Robin flipped him off but couldn’t help a grin from spreading across her cheeks. This felt normal . Like they were four regular teenagers hanging out at a small town bowling alley and there was nothing more to it. Like they weren’t all barely hanging on after the experiences they’d just lived through, like Eddie didn’t wince when he spun around too quickly and the movement tugged at the not yet healed wounds up and down his sides, like this wasn’t one of the first nights since taking down Vecna that they’d decided to hang out away from all of the kids, like Steve didn’t have a walkie talkie tucked into the bag he’d shoved under their bench just in case because the idea of being out of reach in an emergency sent shivers crawling up all of their spines.
They could pretend. Tonight, the red and blue lights were alternating above them and cheesy hits Robin hadn’t heard since she stopped letting Steve control the music they listened to in the car were blasting through the speaker, and they were surrounded by families celebrating birthdays, kids who’d been allowed out unsupervised for the first time in a month, and other people trying their hardest to live life to the fullest even in the face of all the darkness and fear that had held Hawkins in a death grip since spring break. (Thankfully, these past weeks had eased the last of the town’s uneasy public opinion towards Eddie. The government cover story had properly settled and as per usual with small towns like Hawkins, the central focus of community gossip quickly shifted to something more interesting. The people around them tonight were none the wiser about Venca and the Upside Down.)
Eddie shoved Steve up off the bench to go take his turn, and Steve opened his mouth to object but then for some reason … didn’t. Eddie smirked. Steve rolled his eyes, an answering smile playing on his lips that made Robin feel a little like she’d missed a joke. Maybe she had, with how stupidly distracted she’d been by Nancy fucking Wheeler all damn evening.
Eddie gestured towards the still standing pins in a your chariot awaits motion. “We don’t have all night, Harrington.”
They did , actually. None of them had anywhere to be, and Robin was certain they’d all like to spend as much time as possible here together before going back to their separate homes. Since defeating Venca they’d been stuck together like glue (with the addition of Jonathan, who had had to bail last minute tonight to cover a shift at work), spending far more of their free time with each other and the kids than without because it felt ridiculous trying to fit back into life as normal when the way they all saw the world had shifted irreversibly. Besides, it was easier to keep the fear in check with someone there beside you to promise it was all over and that everyone was okay.
(In the past three weeks, she’d gotten used to resting a hand on Steve’s shoulder when his breath caught in his throat at seemingly random moments, to Nancy’s gentle touch against her elbow when she needed the same, and to the way Eddie would tense when they walked past large groups in the street despite most people’s current feelings towards him being remorse.)
When Steve finally took the shot, crossing his legs over as he rolled the ball down the alley in a terrible impersonation of a pro bowler that had Eddie cackling, he took nine pins down. (Because of course he was great at this too .)
Robin missed whatever came next though, because Nancy chose that exact moment to rest her chin on Robin’s shoulder, peering over to the scores. Robin froze. She could feel the warmth of Nancy’s body where it pressed against hers from behind, and it burned.
This wasn’t happening.
It’s not like Robin didn’t know that somewhere between stumbling out of the Upside Down together, covered in sludge and identical bruises from vines that had tried to choke the life out of them, and these past few bizarrely mundane weeks of eating lunch together and swinging past each other’s houses and getting used to a new normal that had each other in it, she had become painfully aware of a rapidly developing crush on Nancy. I mean, could you blame her, it was Nancy freakin’ Wheeler who turned out to be significantly more complex and fascinating than Robin had given her credit for back when she declared Nancy a ‘priss.’
But a crush was one thing. Robin could handle a crush. She’d had plenty of crushes on straight girls that had accumulated to nothing, even on other friends.
But this - the intoxicating smell of Nancy’s perfume, the way Robin’s entire body broke out in goosebumps at their closeness, the relentless thudding of Robin’s heart at the feeling of Nancy’s chin on her shoulder …
Robin always got a little flustered around pretty girls, sure, but she knew, with dread sinking to the pit of her stomach, that this was very clearly, very, very terribly developing into more than a just a crush.
Fuck .
She didn’t manage to connect her brain to her body quick enough to release the tension in her shoulders before Nancy could feel it and pull away.
“Sorry, is this - I know we’re all still bruised - ”
Nancy shifted slightly and Robin reached out, her hand moving of its own accord as she found Nancy’s wrist and curled her fingers around it, feeling Nancy’s pulse racing beneath her fingertips. “It’s okay,” she said quickly, before Nancy could move any further. At that Nancy turned, and Robin suddenly found herself face to face with her, inches away from wide blue eyes and dark eyelashes and soft curls she wanted more than anything to run her fingers through. An apprehensive exhale escaped from Robin’s lips, and she could have sworn Nancy’s gaze flickered down for a split second.
The universe was playing a cruel joke on her. Hadn’t surviving spring break been enough? Karma owed her one, or ten.
Nancy said her name softly.
Robin swallowed down a nervous laugh. Her voice was ever so slightly hoarse. “What?”
One of Nancy’s eyebrows raised teasingly, as if Robin was missing the obvious. “It’s your turn.”
Oh. Right, yeah, bowling. The thing they were here for. Rolling overly heavy balls down slippery alleys and hopefully hitting some pins at the end of it. That thing.
The tips of Robin’s ears burned as she stood up and grabbed a ball from the rack, crossing paths with Steve as he went to sit back down. He gave her a curious look, eyes soft in that familiar should I be worrying about you way.
“You good?” he asked quietly, much too low to be picked up by Nancy or Eddie. Robin felt heat creeping up her neck, and gave Steve a jerky nod.
“‘m fine.”
“Yeah?”
Robin rolled her eyes, grateful that he seemed confused and concerned rather than having pieced together what was really going on, because she really didn’t want to have the maybe I have a crush on your ex-girlfriend conversation with him right now (or preferably ever ). “Yeah.”
“Okay.” He paused, his teasing grin returning. He pointed down the alley. “The pins are over there, ‘kay dingus?”
Robin resisted the urge to elbow him in the ribs, but only barely; of all the people to be born able to bowl perfectly, of course those genes would go to Steve. She tucked her hair behind her ear, and took a step up to the line.
“Hey Robin,” Nancy called, eyes sparkling unfairly. “Try to hit something this time.”
“What is this, gang up on Robin day? Rude , all of you.”
Nancy’s laugh sounded like wind chimes in a gentle summer’s breeze. For God’s sake.
She hit two pins - this failure though she was blaming entirely on Nancy Wheeler and her stupid pretty eyes and pretty hair and ability to consume every single one of the brain cells Robin needed to use for bowling. When she rejoined the others, Nancy gave her a sympathetic smile. “Bad luck.” She paused, then; “you could try to aim a little straighter, you know?”
Ah, yes. Straight. Her speciality.
That was the whole fucking problem.
Eddie snorted with unhelpful laughter.
Save me , she mouthed, but instead he got up to take his own turn leaving Robin at the mercy of Nancy and Steve and their endless bowling tips and tricks. He wasn’t even much better than her, the asshole. She was only losing by 8 points - Eddie was just somehow miraculously giving off the impression that he wasn’t also down the bottom of the score table.
To Steve and Nancy’s credit, when Robin’s next turn rolled around, she managed to take all of the pins down. Her eyebrows crept up to her forehead as the last one wobbled, hesitated on one edge as if deciding whether she was allowed a victory, then fell to the floor with a resounding thud. “Holy shit.”
Steve laughed from behind her, delighted, and when she spun around Eddie was already on his feet, cheering her on from on top of the bench and getting glared at by the bowling alley employees. Steve tugged him down, and Robin had barely blinked before he’d crossed the space between them with the enthusiasm of an excited puppy.
“See!!”
He spun her around till she was dizzy, the lights swirling into one, the cheers of people playing other games mixing into the delighted mess too. It was a moment of pure unbridled delight, and despite how badly she’d been bowling all night, she was glad they’d chosen to come here. They’d all badly needed something like this, something simple and ordinary but good .
Steve set her back on her feet, still grinning from ear to ear. So was Eddie.
And Nancy -
Nancy.
Holy shit, Nancy.
She thought this was how Nancy Wheeler should be seen. Admittedly, she’d had the exact same thought the first time she’d seen Nancy with her sawn off shotgun pointed directly at Venca’s burning body, surrounded by a halo of flames as she fired, then reloaded, then fired again. She’d been beautiful, in the flickering light their hastily assembled molotov cocktails had illuminated Venca’s lair with. Radiant.
It was the same here, but different. There was no smoke in the air, no itch in Robin’s lungs. No fear making her skin crawl, no looming end to the world. There was just Nancy, her eyes sparkling under the terrible bowling alley lights, in a soft jumper rather than a battle jacket and with a delighted, proud smile on her face.
If Robin were braver, she would cross the space between them and kiss her.
(Or if they weren’t in Hawkins Indiana, where Robin would almost rather face off Vecna again than the whole town finding out she was gay. Or if Nancy wasn’t straight.)
Instead Robin settled for matching Nancy’s affectionate smile and trying to pretend there weren’t butterflies taking flight in her stomach at the way Nancy’s lips curled around her soft “You did it!”, as though she’d never had any doubt that Robin was capable of anything she ever set her mind to.
She hit down six pins on her final go and came dead last, not that it mattered with the way her heart was still pounding in her chest and her fingers were tingling from where Nancy had squeezed them.
Steve won ( shocking ), and Eddie threw an arm around his shoulders, grinning from ear to ear and knowing Eddie, chatting complete and utter bullshit to Steve but Robin couldn’t hear their conversation over the music, beyond muffled mentions of god, of course you’re great at this too and maybe if I hadn’t almost been eaten alive by hell-bats and mentions of a rematch. She saw Steve lean in, one eyebrow raised, unable to keep that infectious delight from his expression. Robin had been wondering whether Eddie’s snark and teasing towards Steve was starting to border on flirtatious, and she’d been meaning to ask him about it but she couldn’t figure out how.
Whatever that was, it was good seeing them both happy.
Nancy slipped her hand back into Robins and tugged her to her feet, and every thought Robin had ever had vacated her head.
She found herself dragged over to all of the terrible arcade games she'd never had the money to play before, but Nancy produced a handful of coins before anyone could object, loudly announcing that her mom had dug it out of her purse and ordered them all to have a good time. (She couldn't fix anything else, Nancy added, so they should let her fix this. And who could argue with that?)
(Karen Wheeler was starting to grow on Robin a little.)
Knocking down clowns seemed to be something Robin excelled at. They moved on from it quickly though - although no one mentioned it, the eerie circus music was a little more chilling than it should have been today. Steve won at shooting basketballs (again, shocking ), although anyone watching would assume the winner was Eddie given the way he was grinning. Robin bailed on the dancing, and she and Steve ended up watching a heated competition between Eddie and Nancy instead, both of them certain that they would be victorious, both of them giving it everything they had.
Nancy danced like no one was watching.
Robin didn't know why it caught her off guard because in the short time she'd known her Nancy had shown that she poured her heart into everything, and the bowling had already proven her fierce competitive streak - still, she didn't expect the flash in Nancy's eyes when she glanced to the scores halfway through the game and saw Eddie a few points in the lead, or the way she pushed her now slightly unruly hair out of her eyes and continued with renewed vigour. Eddie twirled unnecessarily, still managing to slam his feet down on the correct arrows in time to the beat, and Steve snorted. "Very punk rock, Munson."
It was the second time that evening that Nancy's laugh had completely caught Robin off guard. It was breathless this time, as if Nancy herself wasn't expecting it either, but it still managed to dance in the air like she'd managed to create a breeze herself inside this stuffy building for the notes to drift on.
By the time they all tumbled into the car it was later than any of them had realised, and the bowling alley would soon be closing. Robin called shotgun so she could fiddle around with the music, which Eddie whinged and whined about until Steve rolled his eyes and told him he already had a role - the distraction the driver had to ignore. Eddie grinned wickedly and Steve rolled his eyes, shoving him into the back of the car and closing the door on him. “You’re worse than the kids.” Once again though, his eyes were sparkling enough that the insult fell entirely on deaf ears.
They were still laughing when Nancy made her way up her driveway, and when they dropped Eddie off afterwards. Robin liked the easy, carefree version of Steve she saw around Nancy, Eddie, and Jonathan these days - he felt more comfortable in his skin to her everyday, and it was nice to see him with people other than her who he was willing to be himself with. Eddie, in particular, made Steve laugh more than even she could ever hope for. It was good that he had Eddie.
Especially if -
Robin swallowed, wishing the thought she’d spent the last couple of weeks trying to banish from her mind hadn't made a sudden reappearance. Not right now. Not when it had been such a good night, and she wanted it to stay that way without the reminder that if she didn't manage to sort her head - sort this stupid crush - out, she wouldn't get many more of these because her friendships would crumble and Nancy would be disgusted by her and Eddie would have a sympathetic, knowing look and Steve would be horrified and betrayed and -
Robin only snapped out of the spiral by the flash of headlights as a car sped past them. Knowing Steve would notice if she started fidgeting anxiously with her rings, she sank her teeth into her lower lip instead, only to be reminded of the way Nancy had subconsciously done the same earlier from across the air hockey table, her eyebrows slightly furrowed with the same level of concentration as she'd given to cleaning and loading her shotgun.
For fuck's sake.
Why did it have to be Nancy? Why couldn't she still be crushing on Vickie again, or literally anyone else - she’d take any boring straight girl in Hawkins at this point over her best friend's ex-girlfriend. Both Steve and Nancy had recounted to Robin on separate occasions their conversation that decided pursuing a relationship again wasn’t a good idea, so Robin knew that Steve didn't love Nancy romantically anymore, sure. But he still loved her. He thought the absolute world of her.
And it wasn't even like this was a crush that could go anywhere so it was a complete waste of Robin’s time anyway and it was going to end so badly and it felt as though there was a ticking time bomb in her hands every time it came up and it hadn't even come up right now but she was freaking out about it anyway and -
"Robin," Steve said carefully, hints of a warm sparkle that terrified her in his eyes.
Robin glanced over to him. He'd fiddled with the radio somewhere between Eddie's place and now so something unfamiliar was playing quietly through the car speakers. The car was illuminated faintly by the red light they were stopped at, and Steve tapped his fingers against the steering wheel.
“Mm hm?” Robin said to avoid giving away her unease.
"Can I ask you something?"
She felt her throat closing up.
Steve's gaze was fully on her now, gentle in all the ways she already missed for when he finally realised she'd crossed a line she couldn't come back from. She said nothing.
"Maybe I'm reading into things," he said, quiet and hesitant. "And I don't want to assume - and if you say no to me I swear I won't ever bring this up again. But - the way you were around Nance tonight - " starry eyes and affectionate touches and a completely stupid lack of subtlety, nice one Buckley " - it made me wonder if, maybe - "
Fuck.
" - you like her?"
Panic clawed at her chest.
Instinctively, her brain screamed no. The instincts of 18 years spent in Hawkins, where having a crush on the wrong girl was as good as a death sentence because this town really got fired up about shit when they wanted to (case in point: Eddie) and look, Nancy Wheeler was definitely the wrong girl .
But not because she was straight, or because she was Nancy Wheeler - straight A’s and loved by the whole damn town and so deliberate and careful and brave and everything Robin wasn’t - or because she was one of the first real, proper, close friends Robin had ever had and falling head over heels for her was just a bad idea. Because honestly, Robin didn’t even care about any of that, she was too far gone anyway.
Nancy was the wrong girl because she was Steve’s fucking ex.
The more time she spent around Nancy, the more impossible this truth became to avoid, because Nancy was - well, Nancy . She was breathtaking in every sense of the word, whether she was diving headfirst into a lake in the dead of night without a moment’s thought to rescue a friend or curling her hand around Robin’s to ease the chill creeping through their bones or standing in her kitchen lit by the early morning sunlight humming to herself as she made a cup of tea, oblivious that anyone was watching her, while she waited for the kids sleeping on the couches in the basement to wake up.
Nancy was kind, and true, and badass, and so much more - but Robin didn’t need to tell Steve that, did she? Because he knew . Because Nancy was his long before Robin had ever known her and every look she’d ever seen them exchange held years of history and she wasn’t a part of that, she couldn’t be a part of that, and she’d rather suffocate the feelings swirling inside of her forever than lose Steve because he was the first person who’d ever wholeheartedly loved her for her , so even though she'd never lied to him about something like this and had never intended to, she couldn't stop herself.
“No,” she said out loud, finally, sounding a little strangled and far away to her own ears.
Her heart pounded in her chest faster than it had back in the bowling alley as Steve gave her a long, thoughtful look. Her stomach twisted and turned and she dug her fingernails into her palm as hard as possible. He knew. She could see it, he fucking knew and he wasn't saying anything and she wanted to open the car door and run into the night but that would be more of an admission than anything, so she sat there silently instead until Steve gave her a small nod.
"Okay," he said quietly.
Nothing followed.
The light had been green for a while, not that there were any other cars around to notice. Steve's eyes lingered on her for a moment and Robin shifted uncomfortably but he kept quiet and eventually looked away to continue the drive home, leaving her with a vice around her chest that felt tighter than the vines she still had the faintest marks from. Her eyes that were burning with unshed tears. (The only relief, thankfully, was that it was too dark for Steve to see them.)
Steve talked a little and hummed along to the radio, and it should have been a relief that when he promised to let it go, he’d meant it. Except the longer the drive went on, the more the lie that hung in the air between them seemed to fester. It curled into the space between their seats and Robin wondered if it was just her or if the car was starting to get smaller, an acrid taste in her mouth. She’d never been good at being still and collected but right now, oddly enough, it was as though her entire body had frozen. Which wasn’t exactly helpful when they pulled up outside her house.
She couldn’t meet his eyes.
“Steve?”
He must have heard the way her voice sounded small, just as hushed and desperate as it had been back on that cold, grimy bathroom floor almost a year ago (the first time she thought she was telling him something that would push him away) because his answering “Yeah?” was just as quiet.
Robin exhaled shakily.
Ask me again, she wanted to beg, frustrated tears building behind her closed eyelids. She'd tell him the truth this time. She couldn't lie, not when he already knew, not when she now wanted this out in the open between them because Steve's silence was almost worse than any revulsion could be. But Steve - the stupid, kind, honourable person he was - stayed silent just as he'd promised he would, not bringing Nancy's name back into the conversation because he was a better friend than she'd ever deserved. That was entirely in her hands now.
“Could we go somewhere?”
It was tentative and there was no way Steve missed that, but once again he didn’t call her out on it.
“Anywhere?” he asked softly.
“Anywhere,” echoed Robin, fiercely avoiding his eyes. He nodded, backing out from her driveway and back onto the road. He drove them down winding, dimly lit roads, all the way out to the small viewpoint that they’d visited a few times before that looked out over Hawkins, which wasn’t much more than a collection of muted lights from this far away. “C’mon,” he said quietly after turning off the ignition, pocketing the keys, and getting out of the car. Robin followed.
The heat of the day had faded now that the sun had set, and Steve reached into the backseat and tossed a sweater at Robin as she shivered. “Nancy’s,” he said in response to her questioning look, because the universe apparently wasn’t done making her life difficult tonight. “She left it in my car last week and hasn’t taken it back yet. It should fit you.” He hauled himself onto the hood of the car, helping Robin up and waiting as she pulled the sweater over her head.
It was soft in the way she was learning most of Nancy’s casual clothes were, far from the itchy, uncomfortable work clothes she’d forced Robin into. It made her wonder about the differences between the Nancy the world got to see and the Nancy that existed behind closed doors, when no one was watching and there was nobody around to impress. The sweater smelt like Nancy’s jasmine and water lily perfume.
This was so … unfair, which to Robin just sounded petulant and childish, unlike the world-ending, life shattering enormity it felt like it was. If she just … wasn’t like this she’d be able to keep Steve and Nancy both as friends and that would be fine. She wouldn’t be stood at the tip of a precipice from which the only way was down.
Again, a bitter urge to snap just say it at Steve washed over her, but he sat quietly by her side looking out at the lights instead, listening to the faint chirp of crickets from the grass nearby.
“It’s weird to think most people down there have no idea what’s been going on,” he said absentmindedly, and Robin pulled her knees up to her chest. He exhaled, then caught his lower lip between his teeth. “You know,” he said, with those warm, kind, heartbreaking eyes fixed on her, “there’s nothing you could say to me that I wouldn’t be okay with.”
Except this .
She’d found the one thing - probably the only thing - that would be too far.
Robin ducked her head down to rest against her knees, curling her arms around herself. The words you were right got stuck in her throat, and I like her made her chest catch even worse, and they were out in the open air right now, the stars and the few, hovering clouds so endlessly far above them that it shouldn’t have been possible to feel suffocated by the sky above her but she did and the burning sensation behind her eyes had returned even worse than before and all it took was Steve’s hand gently brushing against her shoulder before she cracked, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I’m sorry - god, Steve, I’m so sorry - ”
“Hey, stop. Why are you sorry? You have nothing to apologise for -”
“But I do .” She looked up, more tears spilling over, making his face - gentle and concerned and so fucking loving - blur in front of her. “And I wish I could just turn it off or something, because it’s not fair and it’s not like it’s even something that could go anywhere so I’m messing up my friendships for nothing and she’s yours - ”
She stopped, the sharp inhale that hissed against her teeth catching in the back of her throat. Steve didn’t react, even though she’d dropped the confirmation he’d been waiting for right into his lap.
He nudged her ankle lightly with his knee, that trademark Steve Harrington kindness in his eyes. “Y’know,” he said, “if she heard you saying she belonged to anybody, you know she’d have things to say.”
At that Robin managed a smile, quickly matched by Steve who seemed relieved to see it. She thought about Nancy’s hand in his, the gentle touches that passed between them in quiet moments, the way they looked at each other like people with history. “But she’s your Nancy, Steve.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper, cracking on Nancy’s name.
It hovered in the air between them, as if the smallest gust of wind could smash this secret to pieces.
Steve carefully turned so he could face her, then leaned closer so he could rest his arms over Robin’s knees, his weight warm and reassuring and keeping her from being able to run away from the sincerity in his expression. “Yeah,” he agreed. He tilted his head slightly, then brushed a tear from her cheek, offering her another careful smile. “So I get more than anyone how easy she is to fall for.”
A strangled noise escaped from her throat, followed by a soft “It’s okay” from Steve, and Robin let her forehead drop to rest against his head because that terrible, choking fear that Steve would be gone the second she said it out loud was curbed by his being warm and sturdy under her and more importantly, he was there . “I promised you Buckley,” he murmured as though he’d heard her thoughts. “Not going anywhere.” It made her head pound and she didn’t quite know what to do with it because she - foolishly, she was quickly realising - hadn’t at any point stopped to consider a version of events where Steve hung around. Didn’t care. Didn’t think it was a betrayal. Didn’t abandon her. Which was unfair on him, really, but most people didn’t tend to respond to I have a crush on your ex-girlfriend, who is still one of your closest friends and means the absolute world to you with ‘sure, of course, who doesn’t?’
It was then that it suddenly occurred to Robin that Steve and Jonathan were friends. Good friends. Got high together and gave stern talks to the kids and had identical expressions of amusement on their faces when Nancy did something simultaneously impressive and terrifying.
Jonathan, who had fallen in love with Steve’s ex-girlfriend, and who Steve hadn’t hated for it even for a second. Not really.
Well, fucking great , she was a part of a club now apparently. The Nancy Wheeler charmed the hell out of us and has us wrapped around her little finger club.
Maybe there was a badge she could pin to her Family Video vest, Robin thought sardonically.
She took several more shaky breaths, and Steve nudged her so that she lifted her head, giving him the room to slip his fingers into her hair comfortingly and ease her head back down to his shoulder this time.
“Hey,” he said suddenly, as though the thought had crept up on him, “you know there’s nothing going on between us, right? I love her, but - not like that. We talked about it, and we’re not what each other needs, we’re better off as friends. I told you that, right?”
“I know,” said Robin. “She uh … she told me that too. It’s not about that.”
She pulled her head away from his shoulder and wiped her cheeks with the cuff of Nancy’s sweater. “I mean, it would be if you guys were - if it was an issue. But -” She shrugged helplessly, picking at the loose skin down the side of one of her fingernails. “She’s becoming my best friend, Steve. Not like - not you . Obviously.”
He nudged her again with his knee, making the ghost of a smile appear. She probably looked a fucking state with her red-rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks and messy hair, in a sweater of the girl she was swooning over to a pathetic degree, but Steve didn’t comment on it.
“I know you’re okay with who I am,” she said slowly. “But Nancy’s not you. She’s cool ‘n all but … I mean, Steve - the Wheelers are a very particular type of Hawkins family. Hell, that’s what I thought about you and you know I probably never would’ve told you if we hadn’t -” The been drugged died in her throat but Steve just squeezed her knee knowingly. Robin took a deep breath. “Look, I … I can’t guarantee it. Her being cool about me being … me , and I don’t want her to hate me. And I don’t know, if she hates me for this then what’s to stop you from changing your mind too? Because you reacting so well never made any sense to me and I keep wondering whether you just … haven’t fully processed that deep down, it’s not something you’re actually cool with and the other shoe’s just waiting to drop, y’know? And then, screw her not hating me, I want her to like me, not be weirded out, and of all the people I could have fallen for it had to be her , didn’t it? It couldn’t have been anyone else, someone who you could tease me about like you did with Tammy and Vickie and not someone who’s … who’s Nancy freakin’ Wheeler.” She ran her hands through her hair. “I wish that just once, it could be easy.”
She’d gone back to avoiding his gaze, watching herself fiddle with the end of her shoelace to occupy her restless fingers instead. The chaotic doodles on the whites of her shoes were blurrily incoherent from the tears still in her eyes until Steve caught two fingers gently under her chin and tilted it up so she had no choice but to pull her eyes away from the faded scribbles to meet his gaze.
“Liking Nancy Wheeler will always be complicated,” he promised wryly but still so soft, so gentle. “She’s like that. But you can’t control who you fall for, and there’s nothing wrong with you for liking her. Just like there’s nothing wrong with you for liking girls at all." There was a sudden fierceness in his eyes as he took in the expression on her face, the kind of determination she wasn't used to seeing on him outside of life-or-death situations. "I honestly don't know why it was so easy for me to accept but I need you to understand Rob - I'm not gonna change my mind. I'm not, not ever. You're my best friend and I love the hell outta you, okay? For exactly who you are, especially for how much you annoy the shit out of me. You don't have to hide from me. Not about who you are or who you like. You hear me?"
God, Steve had a way of instantly making her want to burst into tears in moments like these. She nodded mutely, and Steve gently squeezed her knee. “Say it.”
She swallowed. “I like Nancy,” she managed quietly. Steve smiled, and Robin took another breath. “And that’s … okay.”
“Yeah, it is.” Steve pulled her into a hug, and she sank willingly into his arms. “I can’t believe you thought I’d hate you, dingus.”
“Shut up.”
Steve’s grip on her tightened, and she felt a kiss against her hair. She curled into him, away from the cold, and exhaled the last of the tension.
You're falling for Nancy Wheeler, she repeated to herself, and that's okay.
“Not that it matters,” she said when they were back in the car on the road to Robin’s place an hour and a half and a late night McDonalds drive-thru from the next town over later, “Nancy’s straight.” She sighed dramatically, tipping her head back against the headrest and taking a long sip of Coke. “She has no idea what she’s doing to me.”
Steve snorted with laughter, but then sent her a glance she almost missed. The warm glow of the street lights flickered over him, his grip on the wheel shifted, fingers tightening ever so slightly for a millisecond or two, and for once Robin couldn’t read his expression. He seemed to weigh up multiple answers, before shooting her another grin.
“It’s not the worst problem to have,” he teased.
Robin shivered. Yeah - if given the choice, she’d take a hopeless head over heels crush on Nancy Wheeler over Venca and Demo-bats and the Upside Down any day.