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The thing is, it shouldn’t bother her.
Nancy’s standing in the doorway of Argyle’s living room, where she’s been standing for a solid two minutes now, and it shouldn’t bother her, but it does.
Jonathan, that is. Or, rather, what he’s doing.
He and Argyle are curled up on the couch together, watching some film she doesn’t care to note. That, itself, is not the issue.
The issue is how affectionate Jonathan is with Argyle. They’re pretzeled together, Jonathan’s arms around Argyle’s waist as he sits on his lap. His chin rests in the crook of Argyle’s neck. He looks happy.
It’s not that she’s jealous. Well, not in the way you’d think. She doesn’t miss dating Jonathan, not in the slightest, and she’s really, genuinely, happy that he’s found someone who complements him so well.
It’s just… she’s so achingly lonely these days. She and Jonathan had broken up a year ago, though in reality their relationship had been over long before they’d officially ended it. She’d been relieved, in truth, for it to be over. She’d been so tired of pretending everything was okay.
There was also a time when she thought… Well, she thought that maybe she might have something with… She’d thought maybe she could be happy with Robin. After all, she’d figured out she’s a lesbian, and Robin had come out to her as a lesbian, too, and for a moment it had seemed like there was a chance that they…
Still. Gone now. Robin left Hawkins months back, arm-in-arm with Steve, and she hasn’t looked back since. Neither of them have. Part of her hates them for that; part of her wishes they’d taken her with them.
So now she’s alone, and Jonathan’s all happy and domestic with Argyle, and most of the time she can pretend there isn’t a gaping abyss in her chest, and everything’s fine.
Except tonight, apparently. Because Jonathan’s looking at Argyle with real love in his eyes, laughing a soft, genuine laugh that she hasn’t heard in a long time, and he’s tilting his head to press his lips to Argyle’s neck, and the gesture is so tender that her eyes fill with tears.
She turns tail and rushes upstairs, blinding fumbling for the bathroom door as she tries to blink back tears.
It’s doubtful they’d even notice she’d slipped out. Nobody seems to notice much about her at all, these days.
She stumbles into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her but not bothering to lock it, and sits down heavily on the side of the bath. Her shoulders are heaving before she’s even sitting, sobs choking out of her before she can stop them.
What’s wrong with her? How does she keep getting it so wrong? First Steve, then Jonathan, then Robin. Every time she thinks that she’s finally gotten it right, that she’s finally able to be happy, it all comes crashing down.
The only common denominator is her. She’s the problem. Jonathan’s head over heels for Argyle, Steve’s been happier since they broke up, and Robin didn’t stick around to even try. They’re all happier—better off—without her.
Nancy cries harder, shoving her fist into her mouth in a poor attempt to muffle the pathetic whimpers escaping her. It’s not fair. When she’d figured out she’s a lesbian, she’d thought that maybe that was the answer to everything. That that was why she couldn’t be happy with Steve, or Jonathan, or any guy. She’d thought she’d solved the puzzle.
She’d finally accepted herself. She’d finally come to terms with her sexuality and processed her feelings. She’d finally allowed herself to acknowledge that the way her heart beat faster whenever Robin was close by maybe wasn’t in a platonic way. And then—
And then it was too late. She’d waited too long. Robin and Steve ran off elsewhere with barely a word and left her behind in the dust.
Jonathan had taken pity on her and invited her to come along to stay with Argyle and Eden for a while. She’d assumed Eden to be Argyle’s girlfriend until she’d come across him and Jonathan with their tongues down each other’s throats. She was happy for them, of course, but it had only intensified the wistful ache inside of her.
Nobody wants her, is the thing. She’d always thought she didn’t care—didn’t want to be somebody’s housewife, didn’t want the perfect house with the white picket fence—but she does. She cares so much.
It’s not even just the romance aspect. She can’t keep her friends around, either. Jonathan has Argyle. Steve and Robin have each other. Nancy has a dead best friend and a chasm in her heart.
All of them are somebody’s first choice, but she’s not even second choice. She’s just there. The hole where a choice should be.
Her mouth trembles, a fresh flood of tears crashing over her. Her chest aches so much that it feels like her ribs are cracking. Her throat is thick.
She’s so lonely. She wants so badly to be loved the way Jonathan and Argyle love each other. To have someone gently press their lips to her skin, to smile at her with a soft fondness in their eyes, to wipe away her tears and kiss her nose and tell her they’re here for her.
The door opens unexpectedly, startling her, and she jumps so hard she nearly falls backwards into the bath.
“Oh, shit!” Eden gasps, taking a step back. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think anyone— Hey, are you okay?”
Nancy hastily wipes her face, sniffing. Her mascara’s ran down her cheeks in lines, black smudges that she’s smeared everywhere. It’s obvious she’s crying, but she chokes out, “I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.”
Eden pauses in the doorway. She looks doubtfully at her, dark eyes concerned. “You don’t look fine.”
Nancy doesn’t bother trying to argue. She sniffles.
Eden hesitates, lingering. She’s wearing a pretty black dress with straps forming a five-pointed star, black tights with a design Nancy can’t quite make out through her teary eyes, and she’s wearing dark lipstick and dark eyeshadow.
Nancy doesn’t know her that well—they’ve only really orbited each other around Jonathan and Argyle—but from the little time they’ve spent together, she seems cool. Far too cool to witness her crying in a bathroom. God, she’s embarrassing. She almost chokes on another sob.
“Do you want me to leave?” Eden asks gently. One of her hands rests on the door handle.
She should say yes. Eden doesn’t know her. Eden doesn’t owe her anything.
But… she’s so lonely, and Eden is here.
“No,” she admits, sniffling.
Eden nods. She walks further into the bathroom, closing the door behind her and locking it. For a moment, she seems to hesitate again, looking unsure, but then she picks up a roll of toilet paper and crouches in front of her, carefully wadding some up and passing it to her.
“Thanks,” Nancy mumbles. She blows her nose, horribly loud in the quiet, and feels her cheeks burn with embarrassment.
Eden wads up more toilet paper. “Can I—” She gestures at Nancy’s face. She’s worrying at her bottom lip with her teeth, black lipstick lightly tainting them.
Nancy just nods. Tears are still leaking from her eyes, but she’s too tired to fight them anymore.
Eden leans in, lightly dabbing at the tear tracks on her face. One of her hands cups her face to hold her still and it takes everything in Nancy’s power not to lean into her touch.
Her movements are gentle, careful as she dries her face. When she’s done, she sits back on her haunces, taking the tissue from Nancy’s hand and dropping the wads into the toilet.
“There,” she says, her voice surprisingly gentle, too. “Want to talk about it?”
Nancy shakes her head. Then she pauses, nodding sadly. She does want to talk about it. She wants to be listened to. She wants to be heard.
“I’m…” Her voice cracks as she speaks. She takes a shaky breath, gathering herself, and tries again. “I’m so lonely.”
Her words come out sad and pathetic, even to her own ears, and she winces.
Eden, though, doesn’t look at her any particular way. “Tell me about it?”
She does. She talks about the loneliness she feels, how she’d thought breaking up with Jonathan would be the answer, and then that figuring out her lesbianism would be, and how neither were. She tells her about having friends again for the first time since her best friend died, and how they’d skipped town together and left her behind. She tells her about how every time she feels like happiness and love are in her grasp, they slip through her fingers like smoke.
Eden listens patiently, eyes never once leaving her face. Briefly, she wonders whether it’s a good idea to mention her attraction to women, before remembering that Eden lives with Argyle and knows about him and Jonathan and figures it’s safe enough.
“It’s me,” Nancy says miserably, concluding her speech. “I can’t have anything like that. I can’t have love. I keep trying and I keep getting it wrong. I’m unlovable.”
Tears spring to her eyes again. This time, she scrubs at them furiously.
“I don’t think you’re unlovable,” Eden says, her tone light. “In fact, I think you’re a right catch. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”
Nancy snorts in disbelief, wiping under her eyes with her thumb. She must look a right sight.
“It’s true!” Eden places her hand on Nancy’s knee. “You’re wasted on these people.”
“You don’t have to be nice to me just because I’m crying,” Nancy says thickly, though a small smile tugs at her face.
“I’m never ‘just nice’ for any reason,” Eden says firmly. She straightens up, cupping Nancy’s face in both of her hands. Her fingernails are painted black, matching her lipstick.
“I mean everything I ever say,” Eden continues, tilting Nancy’s chin up so they’re looking each other in the eyes. Her eyes are dark and intense, something in there she can’t quite make out, and a shiver goes down her spine.
The air around them seems to still. Nancy’s eyes flick down to Eden’s lips, just briefly, before making eye contact again, and she has a moment of thinking that Eden’s one of the prettiest girls she’s ever seen before Eden leans in towards her.
Eden kisses her softly, her lips warm against hers. Even though she’d seen her leaning in, it still catches her by surprise, a sharp huff of breath escaping her throat, before she’s kissing her, too.
She tastes sweet and salty all at once, the sweetness of her lipstick mingling with the salt of Nancy’s tears, and the bathroom is cramped with both of them squeezed in but she doesn’t care. Eden strokes a thumb over her cheek, and Nancy leans into the touch this time, chasing the warmth of her palm.
When they pull away, somehow only seconds later but also hours and days and days and still far too soon for her liking, Nancy’s short of breath. Eden looks up at her, eyes sparkling, her lipstick slightly smudged.
“See?” Eden says lightly, tapping her cheek. “Still got it, Wheeler.”
She kisses her cheek and straightens up, grinning at her, and then she’s gone, leaving her in the bathroom.
Nancy stares after her, awestruck, gingerly touching her fingers to the spot Eden had kissed. She finally turns her head, catching sight of herself in the mirror, and sees that there’s a black lipstick print on her cheek, dark smudges around her kissed lips. Her eyes are blown wide.
Her fingertips are still resting against the lip print. It hasn’t magically fixed the ache of loneliness inside of her, but that’s okay. She hadn’t expected it to.
It’s helped, though. A reminder that she’s not alone, even if she’s lonely.
For today, that can be enough.