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"All I'm saying is, she's the perfect girl Robin. Total dreamboat," Steve sweeps his arm across the cab driving the point home, "Total dreamboat. Like the one that got away Robin. We're like soulmates!" He drones on and on about his ex so much she wonders how far she'll need to drive her pencil through her ear so she won't have to put up with this torture.
Prisoners at San Quentin are treated more humanely. Rolling her eyes she thumps her head against the headrest hoping that if she does it enough times she just might knock herself out and she'll be at school in no time. Dragging her hands over her face she closes her eyes sighing loudly. If he couldn't get more annoying Steve snaps his fingers at her asking, "Were you even listening?! Come on Rob!"
In order to save their friendship she interrupts him, "What do your terrible attempts at getting back with your ex have to do with me? Need I remind you, Vickie has gone absolutely radio silent. Full on court sanctioned gag order on me, total blackout. How in the hell am I supposed to help you with this frankly asinine idea?!"
"Well you see, Robin, if you'd been listening then you'd know that since you're her, you know, best friend you could put in a good word for me." Steve returns both hands to the wheel so they won't careen into a telephone pole. It doesn't last long. Not happy with driving safely he turns his whole body to her with the smuggest look imaginable on his face, "And by helping me you can figure out what's wrong with yours."
If he wasn't her best friend she would have looked him in the eye, told him to shove it up his ass, and be on her way to first period. Those days are far behind them. Maybe she's just nostalgic, but she'd be lying if the thought of switching his conditioner for lotion didn't make her smile. Reluctantly she agrees. Again.
She promised last time that she was done. Told it to his face and everything. Robin has done a lot of crazy things for love, but she crosses the line at expulsion. Just last week he came up to her with a large paper banner with the giant words, 'Steve loves Nancy,' scrawled on it asking if she and Lucas would run it across the football field during half time. Compared to goop monsters she'll take getting eaten alive over that.
"Yes! I knew you'd agree to my genius plan!" Steve claps, his entire everything has stopped driving completely, a passing truck honks at his veering vehicle and all Steve has in response is honking his own horn while yelling at the truck. At least he has one hand on the wheel again. As he starts back on his brilliant plan she tunes him out again for her sanity's sake.
I'm gonna show her that piece by piece, inch by inch I can put her back together again. The song on the radio catches her attention. Steve's taste in music ranges from embarrassing to non-existent. This morning he found a rock station from Cincinnati and they've been playing generic rock ballads the entire ride, but this one... Not only is it catchy but it gives her an idea.
I'll supply the love she lacks, and give her back exactly what she needs.
Never in her life did the sight of Hawkins High bring her such happiness. If she wasn't terrified of being patient zero for a new strain of polio she would have kissed the ground. Another car ride with Steve might just turn her into a devout christian.
The helpful future hasbeens that call Hawkins home push and shove her through the halls until she nearly slams her face into the locker next to Nancy's. Hearing the earth shattering thud of her cranium slamming into a slate of metal an inch thick Nancy looks up. Once she's satisfied that Robin is nursing only a minor concussion she ducks her head back down wrestling with the lock again when she sternly demands, "Give me names. They'll get a five minute head start. No warning."
"Oh, it's nothing Nance. Just the denizens of our lovely school welcoming me back from the weekend." Robin rubs a sore spot on her forehead. She prays to a god that doesn't care for her that she won't have a gnarly bruise tomorrow. Her bangs aren't long enough to cover that monstrosity. Nancy back up at her clearly concerned, "Okay, as long as you're not hurt. I care about-"
She's cut off when the moment she opens her locker an avalanche of cards and notes falls out at once. Robin doesn't know what underclassmen Steve extorted to do this, but it's safe to say they weren't payed enough. Picking one up she reads aloud the terrible pick up line, "What does me plus you equal? Perfection. Eww that one isn't even clever!"
Nancy groans loudly, the tips of her ears are dusted with blush, "I'm going to break all of his fingers and shove it up his ass. Then I'm going to find the idiot who did this and make the devil look like Santa Claus." Robin who's still kneeling on the ground looks up at her the hard edge of her jaw flexes in frustration. It's kind of hot. Kicking herself she soothes, "All for a stupid party. The guy's desperate, Nance."
"I don't even want to go!" Nancy picks up an invitation, "Why can't he get the memo?!" She rips it to shreds scattering the remains over the corpse of at least thirty more invitations. Robin starts collecting them, the janitor doesn't need another reason to quit, she speaks softly to calm Nancy down again, "Because he's a guy. If the answer isn't running topless in front of him he loses all interest."
It works well enough, Nancy pinches the bridge of her nose letting out a frustrated sigh, "So, are you going?" Reluctantly she is Steve's keeper after all. He's a legal adult yet somehow he still has the emotional maturity of a middle-schooler, she shrugs, "Have to. Somebody has to keep Stevie from breaking the world record for the dead man's float."
"But he knows you hate parties. They're too loud." Nancy shakes her head like the mere thought of Robin going anywhere near a frat party is frying her brain. She loves the confused scrunch in between her eyebrows and she imagines a big flashing error sign in her head. Robin waves it off, "Yeah, its fine though. If you love them enough; they're worth it."
"I guess you're right," Nancy thinks for a second, "Alright I'll go." She nods resolutely, but she still looks like a little kid being forced to take caster oil. It would be cute if it didn't hurt Robin to see her sacrifice another part of herself for a stupid boy. Even though she's actively trying to help out said stupid boy.
"You don't have to, Nance." Robin says so genuinely she's almost surprised by how sincere she sounds. It's not like it's coming from a place of dishonesty. She cares for Nancy, a lot actually, and she's seen first hand how frustrating it is to upend all of her weekend plans because her ex is on another, please get back with me, kick. Nancy rubs her shoulder, her touch is like fire, she winks, "Bullshit, if you love them enough; they're worth it."
She loves Steve, really, she does, but it doesn't matter if someone is his best friend or his worst enemy. If he lets them take a sip of his mystery alcohol on a Friday night they will wake up Sunday afternoon forty miles from the Mexican border next to some train tracks wearing only one ill fitting boot and an eyepatch sitting atop a donkey that only responds to the word, cabrito.
Robin Buckley is many things, but a self destructive bozo has to be her finest quality. She is like ninety-two percent sure she has a crippling crush on Nancy, and if her experience with trying to woo Vickie is any indication she's better off launching her feelings into the sun and flee the country.
Steve is sitting in the driver seat fixing his hair and spraying himself with an ungodly amount of cologne. He runs through the plan for the millionth time this week. All she needs to do is make him look like a total catch which is pretty easy since by comparison she looks like the dried out corpse kept in Regan's closet next to the walking depiction of Apollo.
He pops open his door releasing the toxic gas to terrorize the unassuming population. The cold Indiana winter hits her like a bag of bricks. She smiles as the biting cold wraps around her. Honestly that makes this total nightmare a bit more bearable. It reminds her of home. Steve calls out to her as he gets out, "Let's get the girl!"
Like that wasn't creepy enough he pulls out a bottle of Malört from his jacket like it was his wallet and downs at least half in one go. Sighing to herself she preps for a very, very long night and follows. Steve walks through the front door like he owned the place strutting in like a pigeon as he dances to the music.
Various hapless victims watch on in abject horror as he attempts to flirt with any woman within a twenty foot radius. This is her best friend. She bolted herself to this guy. Fully ride or die. Here he is killing the party in broad daylight, with plenty of witnesses, dropping his social security card, and writing down the make and model of his car like it was cool.
A few years ago watching King Steve fall off the wagon this hard would have been hilarious, it still is honestly, except now he's dragging her down with him. In for a penny and all that shit. Once his spectacle starts wearing off people turn to her instead expecting her to be just as bad if not worse. All those eyes on her. She feels her face flair up as the music starts bleeding into her ears louder and louder.
Someone lays their hand on her bicep dragging her away from the foyer into a small adjacent room. Distantly she hears Nancy talking to her calmly. She asks her to breathe with her. The steady grip on her bicep tightens and loosens with each breath so Robin can anchor herself with it.
Her vision manages to drag itself from the tunnel and she sees an angel dressed too smartly for a girl that king dipshit could be into. She's wearing a long dark reddish brown skirt with a matching petticoat even though it's pretty hard to see in this light Robin can tell she's wearing a sensible cream colored blouse underneath.
"Welcome back," Nancy greets recognizing the lucidity in Robin's eyes, "Thought you might like these. The lady at the shop said they're super comfortable and I- um, yeah." She stops herself from rambling by huffing out a breath. In her hands she holds out a small box of earplugs. Nancy smiles bashfully up at her before falling into a rambling apology, "I'm sorry this was completely overstepping my bounds and I shouldn't have done-"
"Nance, it's okay, thanks for uh- for everything. Tonight," Robin fumbles through her words as she fights with the box. After a hard won battle she pops it open. Ha, suck that you geometrical asswipe. They're surprisingly soft, don't hurt ears immediately, she can still hear really well while dulling the loud music. Bonus, nobody can tell she's wearing them.
"They're perfect! You're the best! Thank you so much!" Robin scoops Nancy up in a hug before she can think better of herself, but Nancy holds her back just as if not tighter. She thinks she hears her respond with, I'd do anything for you, it's definitely wishful thinking and it's totally all in her head. A third hand scoots its way onto her back.
Flinging herself off of Nancy she sees Steve's godawful face, he winks at Nancy, "Nance! I've been looking all over for you!" Robin has a front row view of Steve's incredibly fruitless adventure in love fail. The smile on Nancy's face melts into something more fake as the crinkle around her eyes disappears.
"Me too," Nancy says tightly like she has to grind out each syllable. Steve wraps his arm around her muttering more than whispering that they can be together for as long as they want. Robin gags to herself. As he drags them away from the room he turns back to Robin with a goofy grin giving a thumbs up and pointing at her.
Does this night really need to end with her sober?
Not really but Steve would kill her if she slipped, fell, and broke her neck on the stairs before he could get to first base. Also Nancy would ritualistically sacrifice her if she found out that Robin drank without supervision. That means she's dumping some apple juice in a cup and hopes everybody is drunk enough to think it's beer.
Finding a bare wall she leans against it trying to look more cool than awkwardly alone. She's probably shifting too much so people probably think she's uncomfortably crossfaded. Fun.
Robin hates parties. It was better when she wasn't invited because she could live in blissful deniability thinking that her invitation got lost and that people were just dying to be in her company. She knows it's delusional and a bit self centered, but if it makes the stinging loneliness a little less painful then sign her up.
A sick traitor in her head likes to tell her that Steve only keeps her around because she managed to get past Nancy's walls. Sure she might have scaled it halfway after falling like twenty times and Nancy had to throw her a rope for the second half, but it's further than Steve ever got. Maybe their trip to the center of the earth did mean nothing. He has like a billion more years of experience than her.
Honestly, what does Nancy see in her? She's a walking, talking disaster. A big old clingy mess that would rather throw her happiness into the dumpster, light it on fire, and stomp on the ashes. Besides out of anybody here Nancy has an actual future. For the past seventeen years she's been riding off the whole James Dean loner thing, but there's no real future in that.
Walk the world a couple of times and then what? Just another dead end retail job that leaves her more hollow than happy. There's no money to be made and she'll probably sleep on a mattress for the rest of her life. Like Nancy deserves that. At least Steve has a bunch of money and, with a big obvious flashing light, he's a man.
Nancy doesn't like girls like Robin does. They're friends and that's about as far as they'll reasonably get. Anything past study sessions and sleepovers is a fantasy. Besides that's out of Robin's selfish need to be around her twenty-four seven. If Nancy really knew about her she'd gift Robin with either a shotgun and a five minute head start or a friendly neighborhood visit by Jason and his crew of freak hunters.
For her own safety. That's a disgusting way of putting it. Protecting herself rather than protecting Nancy. A lesbian leper praying on an unsuspecting church mouse sounds a bit more truthful. Nancy doesn't even see it. She looks at Robin with a soft storm in her eyes full of happiness and genuine care. Like Robin's actually worth it. Worth the headache of loving her.
As she listens to the twisting chorus of I Need Your Love by Shanghai she wants this night to be over. From the corner of her eye she sees Steve winding around into the hall. It's obvious by the sway in each step that he is wasted. Surprisingly, Nancy is holding onto him needing support to even stand. Great. Both of her best friends aren't going to remember any of this in the morning.
"Robbie!" Steve says all too loudly, "I wanna play pong!" He drops a heavy hand on her shoulder twisting her around and dragging her into the living room. It looks like another group has just wrapped up their game both of them looking about one Kahlua shot away from dying of alcohol poisoning.
She knows the basics of beer pong and as long as Steve doesn't throw a weird curveball she has a decent shot at winning. Except there's a problem; she's here to make Steve look good. That's going to be their first road block. Look, the guy might have been the Tigers' star point guard, but there's a reason why their first winning season came after he graduated.
Their second is that Robin is a pretty good shot. Her foot to eye coordination might be shot, but what she lacks in her ability to climb stairs she can easily match up with like big time football players. Steve's hair still has nightmares of her flinging ice cream at it with laser precision.
Third, if she's going to lose beer pong that means she needs to be sober, and she can't be sober if she loses beer pong. Because if she's not sober she runs two pretty big risks: telling Nancy about her incredibly embarrassing feelings, and forgetting to actually lose means bye bye Steve's manhood or something.
"Hey, Stevie, why don't you pour the cups and I'll grab a drink," Robin scurries away before he can protest. She can feel Nancy's eyes on her back the entire time even as she runs into the thankfully abandoned kitchen. Grabbing a beer bottle she sends a thousand apologies to the drunken frat gods and dumps the bottle into the sink. Filling it halfway with the last of the apple juice.
She returns with a big convincing gulp just to sell it. Most of them are too far gone to really know what's happening but they're enjoying the show to say the least. Her eyes scan the crowd, her heart pounding in her chest, Nancy's eyes catches her in an instant. The well of fascination flows from her intoxicated gaze.
She'd deny it if she thought I knew, Robin recognizes the song immediately, But she could never hide from me. That song. The same one playing in Steve's car as he decided this winter was his Valley Girl moment. Where he proves himself good enough for the girl and wins her back. This song convinced her to break her own heart, and she'll do it a thousand times over if it means Nancy can be happy.
Anyone would think there's nothing wrong, she looks so satisfied, Robin would do anything for Nancy. She's been through so much shit in her pretty short life. Too many people have either left or died on her. All that trauma sits on her shoulders. Guilt rests on her head like the heaviest crown. Her sad eyes hold a thousand stories. But I've known about her much too long she can't conceal what she feels inside.
She deserves to be loved.
"You got this Robin!" Nancy cheers slurring her speech do heavily she can't tell where one word ends and the other ends. Sending her a lopsided smile Robin gives a final thumbs up. Time to sign her dignity's death certificate.
Steve goes first, missing his shot by a mile, he doesn't even hit the dining table. She sank arguably the hardest one in the back on her first try. The frustrated wrinkle in between his eyes after he downs his cup convinces her that she should probably miss the rest of her shots. He sends one. Miss. She throws. Miss. He returns it. Miss. She bounces. Miss.
On his next shot she gently nudges a cup with her left wrist. From where she places her hands, holding the edges of the narrow table, it looks like she's just stretching. He gets it in easy. Now for the fun part. She takes the plastic cup and pitches it back. The bitter alcohol sits on her tongue like a rubber shoe jammed down her throat.
She slams it rim down on the side of the table. Miming like she swallowed she shakes her head like it was about as brutal as it feels. Next she brings the beer bottle to her lips tipping it back. As she brings it back down she spits out the beer into the bottle so nobody can see her trick. To everyone else she looks like a hardass, but on the inside she's sweating bullets hoping nobody notices.
The fact that it takes him another two shots to get it into the front one is in of itself kind of sad, but the crowd not getting bored is the real miracle tonight. Maybe it's because she's used her chest as a back board so he could sink the middle cup. Either way the pervs are still interested at least. A victory for women across the world.
With a few more cup nudgings and some narrowly missed party fouls Steve finally has her down to one cup. She's taken four off of him so it doesn't look like a total blowout. Her dignity can handle a lot, she's a gay band nerd in the other, other hub of the KKK. She needs thick skin, but it wouldn't last a moment if the guy who can't score a slam dunk beat her that badly.
It would take an act of god for him to actually make it so as he lines up his ball he's aiming too low. This has been his exact shot for every single try. She really doesn't want to sit out another round, but she can't do much. Thankfully the drunken frat gods smile down upon her because as he takes the shot Nancy slams her whole body into him causing his aim to pitch to the side.
The sound of the thin plastic hitting a pool of lukewarm beer is probably more pathetic than watching it happen in real time. Nevertheless the crowd erupts in very loud and very chaotic cheers. Half drunk cups of alcohol are dumped onto his shoulders
He's carried off by his drunken accolades cheering him like he just won state. By the time they're dunking him in the pool in the backyard she's on the front porch dumping out the bottle in some bushes. From behind she hears someone speak, their voice is warm and clear, "That's a waste of good beer."
"And you're not drunk," Robin says plainly. Turning around sees Nancy leaning against the door sill. Her crossed arms sit low on her hips. She's smiling so at least she's not in trouble. Nancy walks over to her sitting delicately on the railing, she lowers her voice, "Neither are you."
They digest the silent truth together in the frigid night. The sound of, Shot Through the Heart by Surgin' filters out through the crevices of the house. She spots Nancy shivering in the corner of her eye. Shrugging off her heavy coat Robin drapes it over her shoulders. She's given a soft thanks.
"You lost on purpose," Nancy says matter of factly, "I've seen you launch an empty soda can at Carver's head from the back of the visiting band section and knock him out." Her dark blue eyes trace the soft edges of Robin's face with an even darker fascination. Curiosity and suspicion are a hell of a cocktail. She asks, "Why?"
"Because my best friend is head over heels for a girl completely out of his league," Robin answers instantly. She's had to use this same argument for herself a number of times and it still feels like acid on her tongue every time her traitorous mouth decides to open. Looking up at Nancy she gives a defeated smile but tries masking it like it was more cocky than desperate.
"And besides, he's done the same for me. Might as well throw in everything except the kitchen sink." Robin holds back a sniffle as she clarifies. Early snow is starting to fall. It's best to collect Steve before he decides he wants to be a living snowman when he grows up. She says as much excusing herself, but Nancy catches her hand, asking, "So the kitchen sink? Would that be your happiness?"
A few days later she's at work marking a bunch of old silver age movies for clearance as Steve details his next big idea. It's about as stupid as loading a bunch of bats into a box and at the bottom, after all of them have flown out, is a note describing that he feels the same rush for her. Idiotic, not really thought through, and definitely not going to win Nancy back. Dustin is eating it up though.
"Oh! I've got it!" Dustin bounces on the counter, "You sing her a love song! Romeo and Juliet style. What's more romantic than a lonely madrigal and his forbidden lover high above in a tower?" With every word she can almost feel Steve getting sold. Sure enough as soon as she looks up his face is stretched with the biggest smile she's ever seen.
Say what she will. This entire adventure might suck for her but seeing him so happy and excited to try something new makes it worth it. He's her best friend. If she can't make a breakthrough in love then maybe, just maybe, if he can then that's all she needs.
The second he opens his mouth those warm fuzzy feelings are gone, "Yeah, I can be like that magician dude and win Nancy back. It's genius! But what would I sing though? It has to be super romantic. Not too romantic. I don't want her to think I'm a loser," Steve snaps pointing to her, "Layla! Its a classic."
"Sorry to break it to you dingus, but your boat doesn't have a sail," Robin drops the price gun with a clack, "Need I remind you none of us can play guitar." She gives him a pointed look just daring him to fight back. Dustin can't hold a tune if his life depended on it, she can't play anything with strings, and Steve is only good for late night karaoke when everybody else is half past wasted.
"What about Eddie? He's a rock god!" Steve says after a long moment of thought. At this point they might as well break into her house and set up a romantic dinner, and have them in bed before the cops arrive to drag both her and Dustin out in handcuffs. She eases him back to earth, "Steve, I don't think your ex is going to be super thrilled about you getting back with your other ex."
"That's true," Dustin argees looking over his shoulder for anybody that could be listening, "He'll probably sabotage it before we can even start." She gestures to him in a way to say, I told you so, and, thank you. Steve chews on his lip looking defeated for just a moment before he lights up again and turns to her. Well she's not going to like this. He points to her, "You can choose the song! Your brain is just one big music encyclopedia!"
God is a clown, a loser, and a pain in her ass. If she ever meets that big douchebag she might have to punch them in their big stupid face. They're really limited to only playing what she can on her trumpet so there goes anything outside of soul and funk. She might be a fool for love, but she's not pushing a baby grand through the streets of Hawkins so no piano. That means soul it is.
Some of her earliest memories were found in the cold twilight of Gary, Indiana. Her mother's shifts always ran late so after school Robin would take a detour through the alleys behind clubs so she could listen in on bands warming up for their concert. That's probably where she found out that she can recreate any tune by listening to it once or twice.
She remembers one band that she listened to for an entire week before they appeared in Detroit later that month. When she got her first trumpet she practiced it over and over until it was near perfect. Robin snaps looking up at him with a smile on her lips, "The O'Jays, Darlin' Darlin' Baby. I can teach Dustin the hand drum, and I'll handle procussion on my trumpet."
Look, it has a light Spanish guitar in the background, but they can get rid of it, easy. They're working with three people, not an entire band. Besides, she's kind of on the spot here. If it looks like she's not worrying about it then they won't.
Steve, by the smile on his face he's sold, looks to Dustin to see if he's on board. He thinks it over his face scrunching his face a few times doing his nerd calculations. She tells him a hand drum is like a very simple computer. The way his eyes light up she's got him, he nods, "That can work."
By the end of the night she's worked Steve through the lyrics enough to drive her insane. He still needs help with ad libbing throughout the entire thing. She made the drumline simple enough for Dustin. Three simple repetitive movements on the counter it will be a bit more difficult when she pilfers the drum from the band room. It's nothing they won't be able to fix.
Soon enough Steve is locking the door at the end of the night making everybody agree to meet here tomorrow and practice more. Robin promises to bring in her tape. A pair of headlights spray the front of the store with day at the dead of night. Blocking the light with her hand Robin turns to see Nancy's station wagon.
They're caught. Trapped like rats. Dead end. End of the road. Toast. If she takes off now she can get to the edge of the forest. Nobody would be able to follow her there. Yeah. Great. Perfect. She'll live in the woods until- "Hey, Nancy! How's it going?"
Nevermind she's going to kill Steve first. He walks up to the driver side window with the world's cockiest strut like he wasn't caught planning his next scheme. Leaning on her car with his forearm stretched over the door he tilts his head and smiles. His breath billows on the frigid air, "What brings you to this neck of the woods, huh? Looking for someone? Somebody tall, dark, and handsome?"
Well, Steve murder might have just been relegated to Nancy. Even in the pitch black darkness Robin sees her eyebrows retreat to her hairline. Her jaw drops open at his audacity. Steve might be a dead man walking, but Robin has to appreciate the blatant disregard for his own safety. It's kind of impressive.
"Actually I'm here to pick up Robin." Nancy says on recovery. Scratch that if Robin bolts now, no bike, she can make it to the police station by the time Nancy can get her clunker of a car into reverse. She can beg one of those dinguses to arrest her so she'll be safe from Little Ms. Scorched Earth. Three pairs of eyes turn to her.
Tell my mother, she was a bitch, Robin breathes in, "Thanks Nance. You didn't have to. I've the greatest innovation of the nineteenth century right her." She pats her bike a few times acting like she's not about to combust at any moment. Her beet red face could be mistaken for the temperature, but the dancing fog on her breath from her erratic breathing is one hell of a snitch.
"Not in this weather! Hop in," Nancy directs Steve to load her bicycle into the back. Leaning over she pops open the door and pats the seat for good measure. She's just daring Robin to run at this point. Robin takes life in prison over the electric chair and gets in Nancy's car.
The moment Steve slams the trunk closed all the comfort of the cold air is zapped away leaving her in a hot stuffy box with Nancy. She doesn't say a word as Nancy drives away from the safety of the Family Video. Instead of heading towards her end of the Hawkins slums she's heading towards the quarry.
Welp she had a good run. She's gonna vanish, woosh, gone. One way ticket to nowhere. Maybe in a few decades when somebody dregs the water they'll find her body. Should she start begging for her life now or wait until Nancy brings out a hacksaw.
As they turn onto the old company road she wedges herself against the door. She doesn't take her eyes off the road. The rumble of tired on loose rocks buckle underneath the rubber. On the radio, turned down low, is Tycoon's Can't Take That Away From Me. Her radio has been shot for ages and the harmony wobbles strangely on the busted speakers.
At the edge of the road she stops in the large clearing around the quarry itself. The inky darkness seems to ooze from the gaping jaw of the cavern. All around her shattered rocks and stiff trees watch with rapt attention. Not a single star shines in the night sky. For the first time ever she feels lonely even with Nancy by her side.
She kills the engine but keeps the radio on. The moon illuminates the cab. They sit there with the cold air seeping in through the cracks not saying a single word. Robin sneaks a glance over to her and finds a picture of conflict. Nancy's eyebrows are pulled together and her jaw grinds with heavy concentration. Her voice is like glass shattering on concrete, "Sixteen."
"What?" Robin reels her head back like Nancy just socked her in the face. She adjusts her posture abandoning her seatbelt and turns to Nancy tucking her leg against her chest. Nancy mirrors her but lays her own down flat on the old cracking leather. Biting the inner seam of her lip Nancy goes again, "It's been sixteen days since we've been together. You and me."
"What are you talking about? We hung out at the party like three days ago." Robin squirms in her seat feeling a thousand degrees hotter despite the cold clinging to the door. Opposite of her Nancy runs her hand through her hair trying and failing at not looking frustrated. Her voice is hard, "You know what I mean Robin."
A heavy weight drops deep in her stomach and suddenly she's the coldest she has ever felt. There's no comfort in this cold just jagged exposure. She closes her eyes hoping to drown out the world with the sound of a warbling radio and a thin hope that she's not losing everything.
Of course Nancy would be frustrated with her. She's a bumbling idiot who can't hold onto the good things in her life. Any friend she's managed to make run from the sight of her and the ones who don't are only there because of pity or obligation. Maybe that obligation had worn off with Nancy.
Finally she's seeing through to Robin's clinginess. Her incessant rambling isn't cute anymore it's just annoying. That sarcasm that always brought a smile to her face has slowly bled into a lingering mean that has shaken Nancy. All of that nasty vitriol distilled into one person. Who could possibly love a girl who could never love herself?
A gentle hand reaches out running over her arm. Nancy softly asks her to open her eyes. Like a child she screws up her face and shakes her head. Curling deeper into herself Robin tries to make her body as small as possible. If her mother could see her now she'd really be a disgrace to the bloodline. A poor excuse for a daughter, a poorer excuse for a friend, and a sad disgrace.
"Robin? It's okay, you're not in trouble," Nancy's voice bleeds in through the chaos of her spiraling mind. It's so soft and gentle she feels unworthy of such care. If she knew all of this would be gone in a flash, but the tender swipe of Nancy's thumb over her arm gives her the courage to look up.
"Hey there pretty girl," Nancy smiles, cutting through her insecurities easily, "I'm not mad. You're not a burden. I want to talk. Is that okay?" She starts to lean on her seat more as her other leg curls up onto the seat. Her knee brushes against the steering wheel. The hand on her arm flips over offering to hold Robin's. Somehow Robin manages to squeak out, "Yeah."
She nods to herself gaining more and more confidence and putting back the pieces a bit easier now that she has Nancy's hand to anchor her. Nancy has always made her feel safe why would her brain invade and twist it so horribly? Taking a large deep breath she gives Nancy the go ahead with a self assured, "Hit me Wheeler."
"Not yet, no, but you've been distant as of late. It feels like you've been replacing me with Steve. Did I do something?" Nancy sounds so vulnerable. Like she's opening up her chest cracking every single rib just so she can pull her heart out and place it in Robin's hands. Her eyes, those enchanting eyes, plead with her begging to not lose someone else.
That single look. She's seen it a thousand times in her own eyes. When her mind tells her she's not enough or screams at her to be normal. It doesn't belong in Nancy's eyes because she's too special to be weighed down by an enemy in her own mind.
"No!" Robin interjected, "No, no, no. You don't get to be mean to yourself. It's not you. Never you. It's all completely a hundred percent-ly me. I want to tell you. I really, really, do but I can't." She squeezes Nancy's hand hoping it can convey everything she can't say. Nancy shakes her head, "Why not? Please, Robin, you're sitting right next me yet you've never felt so far away."
"Why do you care?" Robin spits more at herself than Nancy. It's a knee jerk reaction cultivated by her mother. By the stubborn look on her face she doesn't take offense. A billion thoughts must be racing through her mind as her eyes dart across Robin's face. Her voice stalls in her throat, "Because I- I miss you."
The words she says don't feel like they're the ones on her heart. They're spoken by her mind, but the words ring true nonetheless. Nancy says it so tightly like she wanted to say more. For a split moment Nancy opened herself up with so much trust that it scared her. As it slammed shut and her heart hid away the solitary words, I miss you, slipped out.
Nancy doesn't let 'just anybody' in. She's careful. She has to be in a world like this. Barb dying violently and alone while Nancy chose a boy in blind lust. Everyone in her small world abandoned her when that same boy left the words, Nancy 'The Slut' Wheeler. Even a boyfriend that made her feel more like a nuisance than a partner. The same boyfriend who photographed her at her most vulnerable.
So many people took advantage of her, and the one person who hasn't is drifting away. In her eyes Robin, someone worth that hurt, has found a reason to flee and it has a foundation in Nancy. Her greatest fear was always looking into the mirror and finding a monster. Maybe she sees that monster reflecting in Robin's eyes.
Nothing hurts her more than watching Nancy hate herself more and more while she can't do anything about it. She surprises herself by launching across the car and pulling Nancy into a tight embrace. Nancy's strong arms bracket her body in a tight earth shattering hug. Robin weaves her fingers through that godawful perm that Nancy insists on keeping.
"I missed you too," Robin mutters into her shoulder, "So fucking much." She feels the fabric of her shirt growing damp where Nancy has lodged her head up against Robin's heart. Wow, she is a dirtbag, she made Nancy Wheeler cry. Somebody should mug her, drag her through the streets, flog her, tar and feather the whole nine yards.
Her voice is hoarse, "I'm so, so sorry. I never want you to feel like that, Nance, ever again. You're everything to me. I promise once this has all blown over with Steve it will just be me and you again," Robin pulls away her motormouth gaining steam, "And- and you can hold me to it too. Throw me into the quarry or burn the witch whatever you want! Eggs? I got eggs-"
"Robin, Robin!" Nancy runs her hands over Robin's shoulders, "It's okay, I'm not going to build a guillotine because Steve needs his best friend. I just wanted to know I haven't lost you yet." The way her voice bends and breaks on such a simple sentence takes Robin's heart shattering it on the ground. Brushing away a stray hair Robin promises, "Unless you tell me. I will never leave you."
The drive home is a slow peaceful one. With Nancy's hand held firmly in her's. Even though her turns are wider and more delayed without the help of her other hand Nancy keeps them linked tightly. She takes the anchor and burrows into the seat. On the radio a song drags through the soundwaves, Anyone would think there's nothing wrong, she seems like she's complete.
But it's obvious it's been too long since she believed what she needs is me, Robin smiles through the familiar chorus. A song about loving an impossible girl and showing her she deserves all the love in the world. Giving her their all just so she knows that she isn't broken, that she isn't loveless. That someone somewhere loves her more than anything in the world.
Nancy arrives at Robin's home at nearly midnight. Chances are her mother is passed out on the couch still in her work uniform. Somewhere in the morning she'll blame Robin for not having a spare for her next shift, but that's a future problem for future Robin. For now she lets go of Nancy's hand as she gets out.
As her hand grips the door to close it Nancy leans forward. She looks up at Robin like she's something incredible. Her mind spiraling for thought. For courage. Nancy looks down to gather herself, but when she looks up it's like that steam dissipates, "Robin, I-" Nancy's voice hitches, "I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Bright and early, Wheeler," Robin smiles with a salute.
It's a few nights later. Robin decides this is the dumbest thing she ever has and will do in her entire pathetic life. She's crammed in the backseat of Steve's stupid, stupidly expensive Beemer. Dustin is talking about his phone date with Suzy last night. All the while Steve laments about Nancy. This is actual torture.
Vickie, the whole reason why she threw herself into this stupid adventure decided today was a really good day to break her heart. Sure she could have busted out the old classic stating that they're both girls and it's just not right. No, she's found out that actually Nancy and Steve are totally wrong and that she's an annoying, scatterbrained, weirdo with no life.
She didn't say those words exactly, but the sentiment was there. Either way she took off like some dork and ditched school. Steve found her hiding out behind work later freaking out and terrified that she'd been kidnapped by the Upside Down. He still doesn't know what fully happened and she'd rather keep it that way.
They turn onto Nancy's street. The lights in every house the car passes are off. Well this might get them arrested. At least the Wheelers aren't home. Apparently the dead of winter is the perfect time to patch up their failing marriage. It's kind of poetic. Steve pulls up to her house announcing, "Look alive people. It's showtime!"
Robin groans. Maybe somebody has an industrial wood chipper laying around. The light in Nancy's room is on. She's probably up working on some essay that won't be due until next week. Robin can't help but smile at the image of Nancy glaring at a blank piece of paper with the fury of a thousand suns.
In a few short minutes she'll be on the other end of that glare. If Nancy had those freaky mind powers Robin has money on them being combustion based. Getting blown to smithereens by the hard gaze of her best friend sounds like a dream compared to being crammed underneath the roof ledge with her back pressed tight against the garage.
As if this night couldn't get better a pale van decides to creep by, loud heavy metal pouring from it's seems, yep god hates her. Simple. The van parks behind Steve's BMW and the music gets louder before it shuts off entirely. Eddie appears like a horseman of the apocalypse in denim and leather. He smiles at them, "If it isn't the Three Stooges."
"Hey! I think Three Musketeers suits us better," Dustin argues back like he just won a one sided argument. She loves the kid like he's her little brother. He's incredibly smart, really, but sometimes he says things that make her wonder if he huffed, licked, and bathed in lead paint as a baby.
"What do you want, Munson?" Robin asks internally shaking her head. Is she the only one here who cares about remaining quiet? With Eddie here they've managed to go from fork in a blender to a marching band in a forest fire. Speaking of, Eddie shrugs looking up at Nancy's room, "Oh nothing. I was in the neighborhood saw you guys setting up, and I thought it would be funny to see Wheeler chunk a chair at Stevie's head."
"Well you can either join in or leave," Robin hisses, "It's only a matter of time before the cops show up." Her eyes scan the street. A few lights have already flicked on because of Eddie's graceful entrance. He looks them over a few times shrugging again, "Why not? This is probably twenty times the fun I'll have with my hand tonight."
Robin tries her best to ignore that last part, asking, "Have you heard of the O'Jays?" Eddie lights up in an instant. He bounces on his feet clapping his hands as quietly as possible. Like an overgrown kid Eddie rambles, "Like hell I have! Wayne has all their albums! We even have a signed copy of Back Stabbers they gifted him after their bus-"
"Hold on," Eddie cuts himself off, "Lover boy here is trying to win back Wheeler, huh? Oh this is gonna be fun. I'm in." He gestures to Steve rocking his hand back and forth in front of his crotch and pointing back between Steve and Nancy's window. Steve pushes him, his face burning red, Robin steps in and saves him, "Grab a guitar you're on strings."
Plastered against the wall with a guy who smells like lingering weed and sweat and a teenager who hasn't discovered deodorant yet is a new kind of hell that she's oh so lucky to experience first; however, the opening notes go off without a hitch. Eddie follows her lead with the larksong trills after her trumpets call. Steve holds himself well through the opening verse.
"I'll give all that I can give," Steve's in the lead up to the chorus when she hears the window open, "I'll give you plenty love, because you deserve the best!" Eddie starts following him singing softly along just like the singers on the record. On her other side Dustin follows Eddie's lead. Maybe they could start a jazz band once all of this blows over.
As she leads them through the song the only way she can gauge Nancy's reaction is through Steve's face. The way his eyes light up at the sight of her, how soft he sounds when she probably smiles at him, or the manic gestures he moves through as a response to her's.
"You deserve to have it all! And I'm gonna do my best to give it to you," Steve pitches his head down smiling like a dork at her he gives her a thumbs up. He rocks side to side with the music. She mirrors him by nodding along using the movement to push more air out for a more dynamic sound. It definitely doesn't make a difference, but she likes to live in denial.
"You're everything I ever hoped for in a woman, and as long as we may live," Though Steve still has trouble with the lower notes he didn't screw up the lyrics this time. Sure this sounds like an elementary school recital with Dustin losing the beat every few measures, and her and Eddie taking on a whole band with just themselves it sounds pretty lacking.
Yet the smile on Steve's face is worth the humility. Somehow they make it to the outro. Dustin has all but given up on the tempo change, but that's fine she's dealt with worse from drummers. She looks over to Eddie who returns her look with a cocky smile and a wink.
When he looks back at Steve there's a sheen of longing that glasses over his eyes. His smile drops from cocky to nostalgic. It hits her with how long it's been, or rather short. Only a few months ago he was doing these same cheesy gestures for Steve. With that same acoustic guitar he looked into those big puppy dog eyes letting his two greatest loves collide.
He must have felt her eyes still on him because he looks back to her. Something catches in his eyes and his smile lifts into something softer. Tilting his head quickly up towards Nancy's window she nods. Maybe for the first time ever they understand each other and he lays his head on her shoulder. They're breaking their own hearts and all they have is each other.
"Hey! What are you punks doing?!" An angry voice calls out from one of the dark homes, "Get out of here or I'll call the police." Well that's the only head start she needs. Steve stops singing and throws a look over his shoulder. He scurries off with Eddie and Dustin on his tail. Despite her awkward running she makes it to the car first and dives in.
From her spot layed out in Steve's backseat she sees Nancy leaning halfway out of her window hiding her laugh behind her hand. She takes a chance and waves at her hoping that it's Robin that she's endeared with. Her heart skips a beat when Nancy waves back.
The next morning at school she lets the hand drum she illegally acquired fall from her bag on the back steps. Nobody's around to see it, but soon hopefully a teacher picks it up and returns it or a student takes it and it becomes their problem. Either way Robin's hands are clean and she is golden.
Aside from the brain dead losers that walk the halls, the Hawkins education system has the grace of a drunk man with ataxia on a tightrope. Classes range from so boring that they're relearning half the stuff she's known since elementary school to reciting the entire Iliad from memory backwards in front of a packed stadium.
She's in the former for her third period. Lit shouldn't be boring, but somehow Mr. Hurst's voice makes it agonizing. The guy has the personality of a can of lukewarm tomato soup. In true Robin Buckley fashion the class is about half over before she feels something cold and sticky splash against her back.
Turning around she sees the douchebag behind her and his buddy over his shoulder laughing. In each of their hands are two bare empty ink pen tubes with the remnants dripping down the end of the tube. The rest is all over her back, and everybody in class has their share of laughing at her. She takes her stuff, flips them off, and storms out of class not giving two shits over Mr. Hurst demanding she sit down.
Robin rushes to the school's most abandoned bathroom in the older section of the school. The one next to the bomb shelter. She's tearing off her shirt by the time the door closes behind her. Her shirt is totally ruined, like incinerate and forget about it, so she throws it to the floor. With her back to the mirror Robin looks over her shoulder to check the damage.
The space between her shoulder blades is dyed a faint blue. Cool, great, how many showers will that take to get rid of? She sighs, I hate it here. There's only one silver lining when it comes to dealing with the Hawkins monster, and even she hates having to live here. Okay, but her stuff is a bit more valid than Robin who's biggest foe is getting to her next class without a black eye and a dent in someone's locker.
Luckily she has an extra work shirt stuffed in her bag that's probably stolen from Steve. At this point she's not sure which shirts in her closet are her's or his. Even he agrees during their late night girl talks over the phone. It's a little big on her, but who gives a shit she's more debating on whether or not it's worth it to ditch school today.
From behind the door crashes open and a small five foot four shadow rushes into the room slamming when she's in safely. Robin watches completely frozen as Nancy jams the door and pounds open every stall being thorough that nobody else is in there. She offers a stunned noise that sounds less like hello and more like a squawk.
Once she's sure the coast is clear she grabs Robin by the shoulders, her eyes catch the stained shirt, muttering that she's going to murder whoever did that. Robin stands bolt straight terrified of a girl a whole head shorter than her. Look Nancy might be tiny but she could snap her like a toothpick, no question.
Her hands are like fire on the fine bones along her collar. Robin asks her if anything is wrong, but all she gets is a determined head shake, her voice is like glass on the verge of shattering, "I've chickened out one too many times and I'm done running."
"What?" Robin can't get the words out correctly, "'Chickened out?' Nance, what do you mean?" Not even a minute ago she was alone at the edge of the world wondering which thrift store had maroon polos on sale, but flash forward to a couple of seconds later she has the wonderful, badass, Nancy Wheeler in front of her on the verge of a panic attack.
"This," Nancy answers flatly, "I've been running from what's important, and- and so have you and- shit. Get it together Nancy. I- I love you Robin. So, so much. Okay? And I know you feel something too don't you? That's why you're helping Steve right?"
"Well, yeah, but I never thought you'd notice," Robin tries carefully counting her words. Her heart bounds in her chest leaping up into her throat hearing that Nancy wants to be with her. This day has been so wildly bipolar. It gets more so when Nancy nods, "Of course I notice, Robin, ever since I met you haven't been able to stop. I never want to stop noticing you."
"Everything good and happy in my life I see you," Nancy continues, "Even with Steve's backwards attempts at getting back with me all I see is you. Everything. From that first night when you helped him spray paint that idiotic 'Will you marry me?' message on the bridge I thought about how brave you were to overcome your clumsiness."
Nancy looks up at her with so much in her eyes, "Then last night. Steve was singing to me, but all I could hear was you. Only you could have chosen that song, only you could take on an entire jazz section, and only you could make me melt. The whole reason why I haven't set fire to Steve's car is because I know that you're there too."
"You're so good to me Robin. I feel like I'm pretty, like I don't have all this bullshit on my shoulders, like I'm not broken. Nobody has made me feel the way you do. I can be normal and-" Nancy's voice breaks and the tears start falling, "I can fall in love again."
Robin folds her into her arms. Nancy holds onto the front of probably Steve's shirt burying her face into Robin's chest. Her hands grip the shirt like it's the last thing keeping her from falling apart completely. Even in a mess of tears she's so devastating. She takes her vulnerability and confesses into that godawful perm, "You make me feel wanted."
"When you smile at me or laugh at my jokes I'm not some klutzy loser. None of this unfair crock of shit matters if I have you." Robin doesn't think she has the resolve to keep going, but she hopes that Nancy like so many times before understands. She feels her nod against her heart, whispering, "You do. You do have me Robin. All of me."
"Can I kiss you?" Robin asks, hope filling her voice. Nancy pulls back with a look of pure astonishment in the glassy expanse of her dark blue eyes. She smiles so large it dares to split her face in two. The hands on her shirt tighten as Nancy leans up on her toes. Her lips press gently against Robin's.
With her arms wrapped tight around Nancy's waist she deepens the kiss. She moves one of her hands to cup the back of her head and leans Nancy into a deep lunge. It's easily the most romantic thing this bathroom has seen. Honestly this is more romantic than Robin ever dreamed of, and she wouldn't have it any other way.
Nancy breaks the kiss with a gasp, "Friday night? Pick you up?" She leans in again holding Robin's face like it was the most precious thing her hands have ever touched. The kiss is deeper and Nancy pours all her passion into it. If Robin makes her feel pretty she feels beautiful when Nancy holds her like this.
As perfect as Vickie was in her mind's eye she hurt Robin stabbing her in her heart where all her insecurities lay. Those same insecurities are the qualities that Nancy praises. She's everything Robin dreamed of, and she would go through this entire month of heartbreak if she ends up right here over and over.
This time Robin breaks the kiss, she can't stop smiling, "Sounds perfect," Nancy leans in for another bubbling over with pure unconditional love. Robin follows her lead, but her mind screams at her to remember something. Before their lips connect she warns, "Also, I'm pretty sure Steve is in the parking lot right now filling your car with heart balloons."