Chapter Text
“Another day,” Chrissy sighed, peeking at the scones and sliding them back into the oven for another few minutes, “another dollar.”
“I hate that saying,” Robin said passionately, her much-beloved pastry chef’s hat already askew, and smatters of flour spattered across her apron. “It’s just as bad as that Ben Franklin quote.”
Chrissy smiled, too tired to summon up her hazy understanding of founding father quotes. “Which one was that?”
“You know what he says,” Robin said sagely, nodding her head at Chrissy over the loud whir of the mixer.
“What does he say?” Chrissy leaned back against the counter, quirking a curious eyebrow at her friend.
“Death and taxes.” Robin said this firmly, as if this decided the entire matter. She reached for one of the spatulas, eyeing it carefully before she licked some of the frosting.
“What about death and taxes?” Chrissy leaned over, swiping a glob of the frosting herself. She wrinkled her nose. “Needs a little more butter, I think.”
“Those are the only things that are certain.” Robin sighed heavily, carelessly tossing another few sticks of butter into the industrial-sized mixer. They watched in silent solidarity, listening to the hum of the ovens and the whir of the mixers as dawn started to peek through the storefront.
Chrissy yawned, stretching leisurely. The morning coffee and pastry visitors would be arriving any minute, so she rushed over to the front door and turned on the neon sign, bright pink letters flickering to life as the streets began to come to life. Students from the university would be arriving soon, dark circles underneath their eyes from the all-nighters so common around midterms, so Chrissy started up the espresso machine. Robin was still valiantly fighting one of the mixers that had gone rogue, so Chrissy started counting out the drawer up front, just to make sure. Joyce never minded much if they were a few dollars short. In fact Joyce should probably mind more, but she was too soft-hearted to punish two broke college students.
Joyce chose that moment to bustle in from the stairwell, her usual harried expression on her face. She waved at Chrissy, bursting through the doors to the kitchen. Will wandered in after her, offering a shy wave to Chrissy, his backpack slung over one shoulder. They lived in a tiny apartment above the bakery, and Chrissy often wondered how they could even sleep when the smell of frying donuts started wafting upstairs at four in the morning. Granted, Joyce never seemed to sleep.
“Good morning,” Chrissy said kindly, smiling at the younger boy and offering him his favorite coffee. “Do you have midterms coming up?”
Will shrugged, sighing in contemplation as he leaned up against the counter, his coffee warming his hands. “A few, but I’m not too worried about them. I’m getting the guys together to study tonight, and Mom’s going to order pizza for us.” He grinned at her. “We’ll probably just end up playing Dungeons and Dragons and Mom will keep shoveling pizza at us.”
Chrissy glanced over her shoulder to where Joyce and Robin were good-naturedly arguing about something. “That’s nice of her.” She propped herself up against the counter, swinging her legs back and forth. “You have a good mom.”
Will chuckled, taking a slow sip of his coffee. “So you’ve told me, like, I don’t know, a hundred times?”
“I’m only saying it because it’s true,” she replied stubbornly. “She loves you.”
“Yeah,” he said fondly, “that’s true.” He took another sip of his coffee, squinting out as college students flocked by, some on bicycles, some waiting in line for the next bus. “What about you? Do you have midterms coming up?”
Chrissy wrinkled her nose in response. “Unfortunately.”
“You could come study with us.” He grinned as he said it, the usual response he’d given her since she’d been in college and met him, and he was an awkward freshman who’d decided he wanted to adopt Chrissy Cunningham as his honorary older sister.
“Right,” Chrissy said dryly, nodding her head. “I’m sure that would go over well with your friends. Didn’t they have a fit about Max?”
“It’s not as bad anymore,” Will replied, looking chastised. “We’re trying not to be sexist.”
“Much as I appreciate the invitation,” Chrissy replied, shaking her head at him, “I don’t think you want a lame college student crashing your party.”
“You’re not lame!” Joyce said, bustling out of the kitchen with even more frantic energy. “Come on, Will, we need to get you to school.” She shook her head despairingly at Chrissy. “Boys, am I right?”
“So true, Ms. Byers,” Robin said knowingly.
“Boys aren’t that bad,” Will said, grinning back at Robin.
All thoughts of midterms flew out of Chrissy’s mind as the morning crowd swept into the little bakery. She could barely keep the coffee orders straight, the machines steaming and beeping as she and Robin fell into their usual morning ritual, shoving bags of pastries into eager hands and churning out espressos by the dozen. By the time the morning commute had ended, Robin had flung herself facedown across one of the tiny tables in the café, groaning wordlessly. Chrissy tiredly mopped up a coffee that someone had spilled.
“Am I dead yet?” Robin asked hopefully. “Because if someone ever asks me for that many lattes in an order again, I may just snap and kill a man.”
Chrissy reached behind the sliding glass, pulling out a donut hole and tossing it easily over to where Robin was draped across the table. It bounced off her head and plopped sadly into one of the chairs.
“Your love and support is much appreciated,” Robin’s muffled voice called.
Chrissy bit into a donut hole of her own, tilting her head back and savoring the sweetness of the powdered sugar. Joyce told both of them to take whatever they needed, so she didn’t feel bad about it, but it still felt slightly rebellious to eat something and not plan to purge it later. It felt good to let herself enjoy a quiet moment, to allow herself to be rewarded. She licked the powdered sugar off her thumb, humming quietly.
“Why were you talking about money this morning?”
Chrissy glanced up, meeting Robin’s curious gaze.
“Oh.” Chrissy shifted, grabbing the mop again and churning it around in the gray mop water. “No reason, really.”
“Uh-huh,” Robin replied, clearly not believing it. “Spit it out, Chrissy. Did your parents cut you off again?”
She sighed, frowning slightly as she pushed the mop bucket back into the closet, trying to formulate an answer as she watched the water pour down the drain. “Not exactly,” she said evasively. “It’s just… my roommate told me she’s dropping out.”
“Oh.” Robin blinked at that, her brows furrowing. “Like… at the end of the semester? Or dropping out now?”
Chrissy winced in response and Robin groaned.
“Now?! It’s midterms!”
“I know.” Chrissy sighed, idly wiping off the counter free from the many coffee stains and globs of frosting that decorated it. “I wasn’t expecting it either. But she’s running away with her,” she coughed slightly, “boyfriend.”
Robin wrinkled her nose in disapproval. “Isn’t she dating your ex?”
“Jason? Yeah.”
“My condolences to her, then. She might be back before the semester is over.”
“That doesn’t change my situation.” Chrissy wrung out the rag, pouring all of her anxiety into the motion. “I have to find a new roommate or move out by the end of midterms. My landlord is…pretty strict, apparently. There’s no way I can cover rent on my own. Not unless Joyce hires me full-time and I just… drop out of school, too.”
“No, not allowed.” Robin shook her head firmly. “You want this degree.” She twisted her lips in contemplation. “You could come crash at mine for a bit. My roommates… probably wouldn’t mind.” She looked hesitant as she said this, and Chrissy’s anxiety only surged again.
“I’m not taking advantage of anyone’s charity,” Chrissy said, shaking her head. “I’ll pay my own way.”
“You’re sure your parents wouldn’t help?”
“I think my mom would rather I be the one running away with Jason.” She sighed, grabbing up the window cleaner and spraying the windows perhaps a little more aggressively than was strictly necessary. Robin held her hands up in surrender.
“Sorry I asked. I just… surely they’re not that bad.”
“My mom’s charity is never something I want to accept.” Chrissy sighed, briskly wiping down the windowpanes. “You always owe something to her later, something that’s outrageous compared to what she did for you.”
Robin nodded. “Sounds about right for her, I guess.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Maybe you could get a new roommate?” Robin sprung to her feet, pacing back and forth as she often did when she was trying to solve a problem. “I mean, there’s probably got to be someone out there who’s lost a roommate, or who will lose a roommate who flunks out at midterms. We have to look at options here.” She chewed on her thumbnail, eyes wide as she mulled over the possibilities.
“Or I find a cheaper apartment,” Chrissy suggested gently.
“Absolutely not. You know how expensive rent is around here. The only thing cheaper than that dump you’ve got is a cardboard box,” Robin argued. “And that’s not allowed. I will literally put you up in my bathtub before that happens.”
“Thanks?”
“You’re welcome. Anyway,” Robin clapped her hands together decisively. “I know what we’ll do. We’ll put an ad on Craigslist.”
“Oh no,” Chrissy said apprehensively. “That’s how you get creeps.”
“True.” Robin whirled around, pacing through the puddle of mop water. “We could just… put up a vague sign here in the shop saying ‘Roommate Wanted – No Creeps Allowed’ or something like that.”
“Something like that.” Chrissy sighed again, slumping down into one of the chairs. “I don’t know. I’m sure I’ll figure it out eventually.”
“We just have to keep your options open,” Robin said. “And we’ll find the right person. There’s got to be a perfect roommate out there somewhere.” She peered out the freshly cleaned window as if the right person might pop up at any moment. “Nancy was looking for a new roommate, but instead she went with some stupid jock. He gets on my nerves.” She scoffed loudly.
“Hm,” Chrissy said noncommittally.
Robin patted her shoulder awkwardly. “Don’t worry, Chris. We’ll find someone.”
“Keep telling me that,” Chrissy said wearily, “or else I may be forced to move back home.”
The morning dragged by, both of them taking turns studying or running the register, although traffic consisted only of a few late risers dragging themselves in for the strongest coffee they could order. A few of their classmates commiserated about the horrors of midterms, but nobody knew of anyone looking for a roommate. By the time Joyce had arrived, Robin was nearly frantic and Chrissy had decided on throwing herself into the pit of despair.
“Anyone want to tell me why Chrissy is crying?” Joyce asked carefully, reaching over to wrap her arm around her, giving her a comforting squeeze.
“If she doesn’t find a roommate, she’ll have to move home and drop out of college,” Robin said, gripping the counter tightly. “And then I’ll lose my one of my only two friends on campus, and I’ll go insane. And also Chrissy will be miserable, because she hates being home.”
Joyce made a sound of sympathy, rubbing her arm up and down Chrissy’s shoulder. “You can always come and stay with us, Chrissy. We’ll make room. Will’s got a hammock we could hang up in the living room.”
Chrissy sobbed a little, wiping a stray tear from her face. “Thanks, Ms. Byers. But I don’t want to intrude on anyone.”
Joyce rolled her eyes at this. “I just invited you. Of course you can come stay. As long as you need to.”
“It might help for the rest of this semester, but, I need something over the summer and for next year.” Chrissy sighed quietly, tilting her head over and resting it on Joyce’s shoulder. “I just don’t know what to do.”
“And don’t ask about the parent situation,” Robin warned as Joyce opened her mouth. “Imagine the worst it could be, and then add an extra layer of ‘it sucks’ on it.”
Chrissy laughed slightly at that, but her crying session was cut short when the doorbell jingled. The three women glanced up as a man strode elegantly into the café, his tall and imposing form towering over them as he stared contemplatively up at the menu. For a moment his gaze flickered over to where Chrissy sat sniffling into Joyce’s shoulder, and one perfectly manicured eyebrow arched upwards in disinterest. Chrissy tilted her head, trying to place where she recognized him from.
“May I help you?” Robin jogged over to the register.
“Yes,” he said, his voice smooth and distinguished. He smiled at Robin, the sort of smile that looked entirely perfect and entirely fake. “I think I will take an iced chai latte, please.” He slid a crisp bill across the counter towards her, glancing out the window as if the rest of the transaction utterly bored him.
“Will do,” Robin replied, putting on her best customer service voice that Chrissy knew meant something like “I hate this guy and his whole vibe.”
“Can I ask for a name?” Robin continued in the same overly bright, cheery tone.
“You don’t know my name?” He smirked, as if this amused him.
“Uh, can’t say that I do.”
“Creel.” He waved his hand, looking annoyed that she’d even asked. “Henry Creel. I’m surprised you didn’t recognize me.”
“Should I… recognize you?” Robin asked as she scrawled out the name on the cup. Chrissy’s heart sunk at the name, and she slunk a little lower in her chair, hoping he had no idea what one of his tenants looked like.
He smiled benevolently. “My name and face are only all over the city, my dear.”
“Oh,” Joyce said, rising to her feet with that familiar glint in her eye. “You’re that slum lord, aren’t you?”
Robin wheezed and fell into a coughing fit, barely managing to hide her laughter. Chrissy chewed on a fingernail, unsure how to communicate that the man who was apparently her landlord had just walked into the building. He was just as pretentious as she’d imagined he’d be, if not more.
Creel, however, was pursing his lips in disapproval towards Joyce. “Some might call me that,” he said crisply, looking like he wanted her to burst into flames on the spot. “I think of myself as an investor.”
“So you’re the one who runs all the apartments around here?” Robin asked doggedly, having defeated her sudden coughing fit. Her gaze flickered meaningfully to Chrissy. Chrissy shook her head frantically.
“Yes,” Creel replied, nodding with a smooth smile on his face. “I try to do my best by our cozy little college town. It could certainly use… updates.” He glanced around the café, a hungry look in his eyes that had nothing to do with the smell of baking scones. “I am always keeping an eye open for new investment opportunities.” He smiled brightly at Joyce.
“Well,” Joyce slapped the counter loudly, “this little baby isn’t for sale. Sorry.”
“Hm,” Creel replied, his eyes narrowing just slightly as he met Joyce’s gaze, “unfortunate. I had hoped you might be open to talk about this.”
“Well,” Joyce said, a wide smile on her face, “guess you hoped wrong!”
Robin, who was taking far too long to make an iced chai, said in her best casual voice: “So, if you’re the landlord around here, what’s your policy if someone’s roommate moves out and the other person can’t make the rent?”
Chrissy caught Robin’s gaze, shaking her head frantically again. Robin shrugged her shoulder in apology.
“Oh,” he said, his voice dripping with sympathy, “well, unfortunately they would need to move out or find a new roommate. It’s sad, but it happens.”
“I don’t suppose you have anyone looking for new roommates, do you?” Robin stirred the chai aggressively. Joyce was practically vibrating by the counter, shooting daggers with her eyes towards Creel.
“I don’t concern myself with those matters,” Creel laughed, so pleasantly it was unpleasant. Chrissy felt a chill run up her spine. “Are you done with my chai yet?” He leaned across the counter, teeth glittering as he watched Robin.
“Yep!” Robin slammed it down on the counters, little droplets of the tea flying through the air and splashing against his pristinely pressed shirt. “All done!”
Creel cleared his throat, glancing around at the three women. “Well,” he said dryly, “I can tell when I’m not wanted.”
“Oh, you can?” Joyce arched an eyebrow. “I was beginning to think you hadn’t noticed.”
He stepped closer to the short woman, easily towering over her as his face split into a wide smile, his white teeth flashing in the sunlight. “You may want to be more careful about who you insult, Joyce Byers,” he said, smiling wider. “I have more power in this town than you may think.”
“You also have chai on your shirt,” Robin said, dabbing at it with a napkin.
Creel huffed, yanking the napkin from her grip. “Enough,” he snarled, “I was simply trying to come and make acquaintances with other business owners in the town, but I am to be treated as a laughingstock, I will take my business elsewhere.”
“Your loss will be sincerely felt,” Joyce snapped as the door slammed shut behind him.
“What a creep,” Robin breathed, her eyes bugging out as she shook her head at Chrissy. “Is that guy your landlord?”
“Unfortunately.” Chrissy shrugged. “Now you see why I’m so desperate to find someone.”
“That man,” Joyce wagged her finger out the window as the tall man skulked away, “is buying up every property he can get his fingers on.” She shook her head fiercely. “Well, he’s not getting this place, I can tell you that much.”
“You didn’t need to try to defend me like that,” Chrissy said weakly. “I don’t want him knowing about me or my situation. If I can figure it out before the end of the week, then I’ll be set. I just need to find a roommate.”
“And you will,” Joyce said firmly. “And then we’ll tear down his real estate empire with our bare hands.”
“Okay, Ms. Byers,” Robin said, holding up her hands, “let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“What a day,” Chrissy sighed, turning the lights off in the kitchen as they did their final sweep before closing for the day. “I just want to go home and take a long bath. Except my apartment doesn’t have a bathtub.”
Robin shook her head. “You have got to get out of that dump, I am telling you. Especially with that blonde weirdo and his cheekbones skulking around the place. You’d be better off without it. You could spend the days at my place and the nights at Joyce’s place. In a hammock.”
“Tempting,” Chrissy said, scrunching her nose up at her friend. “I’ll definitely think about it.”
The door jangled again, this time Will bounding into the place with his usual group of friends surrounding him, laughing and discussing some new D&D book that had recently been published. Chrissy waved, gesturing to the remaining pastries from the day as the group descended upon them. Will high-fived her, as did Dustin and Lucas. Max, a fiery redhead who enjoyed teasing Chrissy, was hanging in the back giggling with El, a quiet girl who was practically joined at the hip with either Will or Max at all times. They lined up in front of the counter, falling into their usual routine as Chrissy blessed them all with a leftover pastry.
“Oh, sweet maiden of the golden croissants,” Dustin groaned, jamming as many chocolate croissants into his backpack as physically possible. “However can I thank thee for thy bountiful gifts?”
“You can thank me by leaving a tip, dingus,” Robin snarked, grabbing the box back. “I didn’t hear any of you say please or thank you.”
“Thank you,” the crowd said through muffled mouthfuls.
“Midterm studying tonight?” Chrissy asked, folding her arms on top of the counter, having to tilt her head back to look up at some of them, and wishing she wasn’t quite so short.
“Not if I can help it,” Max said confidently. “El and I will be watching movies while they do whatever loser game they’ll probably play.”
“It’s not a loser game,” Mike argued.
“I thought you all were going to actually study,” Chrissy said sweetly. She frowned down at the pastry box, pretending to consider it. “I worked very hard over these pastries. You should put them to good use.”
“We are putting them to good use,” Lucas said, his hand sneaking out to grab another one. “We’re using them to defeat an evil lich.”
“An evil lich called studying?” Chrissy arched an eyebrow at him.
“Uh, sure?” Lucas replied.
“Just promise me you all will spend at least an hour before you start playing D&D,” Chrissy begged, laughing as she slid the box towards them, the last few remnants disappearing quickly.
Dustin saluted. “Yes, ma’am. Besides, we’re starting a new campaign tonight.”
“Oh?” She grinned up at him. “What’s it about?”
“We don’t know much, but there’s a new guy at that Hellfire Club game store that we go to,” Mike said eagerly. “He’s supposed to be insanely good at it, but apparently all of his campaigns are super, mega hard. Like, nobody gets through one of his campaigns without at least half the party dying.”
“Sounds… like fun?” Chrissy asked tentatively.
“It’s going to be great,” Will chimed in, bouncing on his heels. “We’re just making characters tonight, but I can’t wait.”
She smiled at Will. “That sounds nice. I hope you all have fun.”
“I hope you all die a fiery death,” Robin said sweetly. “I hope the lich sucks your blood.”
“Can those happen at the same time?” Dustin asked, frowning.
“It might with this guy,” Mike said, almost reverently. “Who knows how we might die in one of his campaigns.”
Chrissy wrinkled her nose. “That sounds a little unpleasant. Is he mean?”
“I sincerely doubt it,” Robin muttered under her breath. “He’s a nerd, surely.”
“Oh, he is mean,” Dustin continued. “He’s terrifying, really. I mean, I’ve never met him, but everyone else who has campaigns at the Hellfire Club says he’s the scariest DM they’ve ever met. Nobody cancels on his meetings. Nobody dares to be late.”
“And speaking of late,” Max said, gesturing towards the stairwell up to the Byers’ apartment. “Aren’t we supposed to be studying tonight?”
“She’s got a point,” Chrissy chimed in. “Get yourselves up there. Ms. Byers is ordering you pizza.”
This seemed to motivate the group more than anything else, and she and Robin watched as the group crammed themselves into the tiny stairwell, arguing and laughing loudly amongst themselves as they ascended.
“Crazy kids,” Robin muttered, shaking her head. “I don’t know how Joyce does it.”
“They’re sweet,” Chrissy said defensively. She shook her head, biting her lip. “I hope this new guy at their D&D store isn’t too mean. I want them to have a good time.”
Robin cackled, poking Chrissy’s arm. “What if it’s that Creel guy? Can you imagine? Him staring down his nose at a bunch of rowdy teenagers?”
Chrissy giggled at that. “Imagine how he’d talk to them. ‘My dears, you simply must pay taxes before we begin the game or else I’ll destroy you all.’”
Robin puffed herself up in imitation of their earlier visitor. “’Children, if you do not turn in your safety deposit then I will kick you from the store.’”
Chrissy giggled again, shaking her head. “Whoever this guy is, he sounds pretty unpleasant.”
“Eh, they’ll be okay.” Robin waved her hand dismissively. “They squabble amongst themselves all the time. They can handle some grumpy nerd.”
“He’s probably mean and scary,” Chrissy whispered, widening her eyes.
“As mean and scary as death and taxes?”
“Meaner and scarier.” Chrissy shook her head.