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At the start of senior year, if anyone had asked Robin Buckley if she expected herself to be seated in the passenger seat of Nancy Wheelers station wagon, sipping Slurpees in the 7/11 parking lot, she would have said no without hesitation. Sure, Robin definitely caught herself daydreaming about it; once or twice. But could anyone blame her? In the past she'd written her off as a prissy privileged popular kid, but Nancy Wheeler was far more than that. Far more complicated and far less shallow.
Yet here she was, the night consisted of Robin taking part in her final performance as a member of Hawkins High Band. The end of an era, so to speak, that encompassed her entire high school career. And of course Nancy insisted they celebrate.
It wasn't a celebration of the end, more so the celebration of something else. The celebration of a feeling over the celebration of a point in time.Robin wasn't sure if Nancy intended for it to be a romantic gesture, but it definitely felt like it could be categorized as such. There was a warm fuzzy glow that settled in Robin's stomach, or maybe that was all the sugar. The latter was a bold faced lie, Robin knew what this feeling was.
"Have you ever been in love?" Robin spoke, breaking the mutual silence that had settled in the car since they'd gotten their iced beverages. Which had been a stark contrast to Robin regaling Nancy with funny moments that happened in band throughout the school year, during their car ride there. Robin wasn't sure why she asked the question. It wasn't like she expecting Nancy to admit that she was in love with her.
Robin wasn't even sure herself if she was allowed to be in love with Nancy. Did a few months of knowing someone, truly knowing them, warrant love? Was it about the time spent or the depth of the connection when it came down to it? Robin didn't know. She didn't have the answer. Maybe there was a book or movie she'd missed that could have told her this.
What Robin did know is that there had been crushes before; girls she couldn't stop thinking about, girls she pictured herself with. But none of them ever made her feel like Nancy Wheeler did; none of them looked at her the way Nancy Wheeler did, none of them had gone through what she had gone through with Nancy Wheeler. This feeling, it wasn't a fleeting crush or some high school fling, that was also something Robin knew. Something she understood.
But did she have the right to tell Nancy this?
"Love..." Nancy mumbled the word, it sounded vaguely like a question, like she were mulling it over. Turning it over and holding it up at various angles in the metaphorical light bulb in her head.
"I think I have been in love." Nancy paused, nibbling at the inside of her cheek, perhaps contemplating how much she wanted to say, "maybe I didn't know it at the time, but now...you know when something seems so obvious after the fact? Complete and utterly fucking obvious," She let out a sardonic laugh, "I definitely was in love once." Nancy's voice sounded far away, as if she were physically going back in time to said moment.
This moment that sounded like it hurt; hurt her to know what she knew now, hurt her to not realize sooner.
Robin swallowed, each breath feeling heavy as she tapped her finger against the paper cup, "Jonathan?" She asked, uttering that name seeming to kick her heart beat into overdrive, wrapping her hands around the cold cup to keep them from sweating.
Nancy made a small sound in the back of her throat, "I guess it would make sense to assume it was Jonathan." She offered Robin a crooked smile, "But no. It was before that... before him. I love Jonathan, don't get me wrong, and I care about him so much, but loving someone and being in love with them aren't the same. I realize that now."
She shrugged, "there's a lot I realize now." her words soft enough that Robin wasn't sure if Nancy was actually talking to her.
Steve, of course it was him, Robin nodded to herself. Hawkins' golden boy, or whatever ridiculous title pretty white jocks got in high school. Robin lifted her cup to her lips, just to give herself something to do, nibbling softly on the tip of the straw.
"That's it?" Nancy shifted in her seat, leaning forward a bit so her face was fully lit by the street lamps outside.
"What's it?" Robin asked around her straw.
"You seemed so interested before...you don't have another guess?" Nancy's eyes were serious, but there was something behind them that Robin couldn't quite place, which felt odd; Robin was sure she had seen the full arsenal of Nancy Wheeler's expressive eyes.
Robin scrunched her brows, puffing out one cheek, because it felt so obvious. "It's Steve isn't it? Nance he told me the same thing when I asked him...so I just figured..." She trailed off, lowering her cup back to her lap.
"You asked him if he loved me?" Nancy looked confused, possibly even a little offended, "Rob, Why would you ask him that? When would you ask him that?"
"No. Nancy, no! This wasn't some kind of weird way of me trying to meddle with whatever happened between the two of you, we hadn't even met each other yet... and truthfully that was none of my business. It was just..." Robin took a deep breath, "he and I were like...coming down from this high from some Russian truth serum."
Nancy still looked perplexed, but there was a small amused smile on her face as she watched Robin explain herself, "Well...no it's not Steve." Nancy's voice was hush, almost like she wasn't sure she was ready to admit it. Not to herself at least.
"Barb" Robin whispered, her mouth feeling like a sponge soaked up all it's moisture.
Nancy didn't confirm, but she did lean back against the car door, her face no longer lit by the light. Shroud in the shadowy darkness of the night sky and the dark car.
The car was silent; moments passed with nothing said.
Robin wasn't sure what to say. Wasn't even sure she could, the way her tongue felt like it was sticking to the roof of her mouth. She didn't want to move, didn't want to drink from her straw, fearful that the wrong move would disturb whatever air had settled between them.
"That shut you up," Nancy finally spoke, her words weren't malicious, more so a half hearted attempt at a joke as she reminisced her lost friend. Her lost love.
Robin looked up from her lap, looking in Nancy's direction. Her mouth opened before closing again. 'You never talk about her', was what Robin wanted to say. But she didn't. She couldn't.
Because what was Nancy supposed to say to that? What was anyone supposed to say. How was someone supposed to bring up someone who was taken away from them prematurely. Especially when it was so clear that a part of them carried the blame. Wounds like that never really healed, they just scabbed over until they were knocked on something and started the bleeding process all over again. It didn't always hurt the same each time. Some moments were more painful than others. But it was always there.
Instead Robin said "I'm sure she sees you everyday Nance," She sucked in a breath, reaching her hand over to take Nancy's in her own, "and I know she's proud of you...I'm proud of you. She wouldn't blame you, not for any of it."