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"And she plays the flute, right? And I swear to god that she's staring at her nails and not the actual notes on the instrument because it sounds like a dying bird seventy percent of the time," Robin waved her hands about, the fluidity of someone who was raised around people who spoke with their hands just as much as their mouths evident in her gangly limbs.
She'd been going on for quite a while, sitting in the orange lawn chair Steve had unearthed from his basement for the sole purpose of waiting in the highschool parking waiting on the kids.
"I don't know how Mrs. Tuppens handles teaching kids like that, like, why take band at all if you're not going to learn the instrument?" The redhead finally slumped back into the chair with a breath of frustration, arms crossing over her chest, "I wish she could kick students out of the class."
"Wait, for my visual," Steve gestured, because he never used to wave his limbs about as much before Starcourt and now he does it with as much confidence as Robin does, "Who're we talking about?"
She made a face, "Uhh," she tipped her head, nose scrunching, "How do I describe her..." she trailed off, snapping her fingers in thought, "Like... flowers?"
"Oh!" Steve nodded, catching on to her train of thought in an instant. He'd never seen her before, but the image came to mind like he'd walked out of school with her every day for a year, "Blonde girl? Different coloured eyes? She takes that tacky pink wrapped chevy home?"
"Yes!" Robin straightened out, "Oh my gosh, I hate that thing! It's so ugly! The wrapping is done so poorly, have you seen the way it's peeling up in the corners? Dude, I think I hate her more than I ever hated you."
Steve's laugh echoes across the near empty parking lot, shadowed by the sound of the school doors opening and seven kids spilling out from beyond them.
...
Robin, Eddie, and Steve had become prone to spending the night all in the empty Harrington home more often than not. The previous king of Hawkins had turned what used to be a picture perfect home, always looking on the verge of being nothing more than a showroom for purchasing, into a family one filled with noise and movement.
Today, that noise and movement was the three of them rushing to get ready. Eddie had snoozed their alarm before it could wake either Robin or Steve up, and they were already late to arriving at the kids' houses to pick them up, let alone leaving to drive there.
"Comin' through!" Eddie hollered, swerving around a Robin who was running from the kitchen with a reheated leftover waffle hanging from her mouth and a hairbrush in her hair, "Buckley, you better have left some for me!"
"Why would I deprive our great Eddie Munson of his breakfast?" She called back around the food in her mouth, "If you hog that fucking bathroom I swear--"
Steve, down the hall in the ensuite bathroom because it was his house and that meant he called dibs first-- and he got out of bed before anybody else, and shut the door in their faces-- let his lips quirk into a soft, fond smile at the distant sound of bickering and stampeding footsteps.
His hair care routine was rushed, but it looked good enough, and his teeth were brushed, medication taken, outfit that probably consisted more of Robin and Eddie's clothes than his own because they've all gotten mixed up in his closet pulled on, and aside from grabbing something to eat and his keys he was ready.
That meant he stood by the front door, eating a protein bar, waiting for the two of them. Eddie swung around the corner a few minutes post his arrival, vest only half on and hair looking like it hadn't seen a brush in years and not just one night.
Then, it was Robin, with toothpaste on her cheek and another waffle in hand. "Everybody ready?" He prompted, already opening the front door. Eddie squeezed out past him, but when Robin went to walk out she paused at the door.
She turned to him, and squinted, "What am I forgetting?" she asked, as if he knew the answer to whatever small thing she was about to leave behind. He did, in fact. He always knew, because it was always her sunglasses.
He'd opened his mouth to say just that, when her eyes sparked with recognition, and she flew back into the house, calling, "Right, sunglasses! Thank you!" behind her.
Eddie sent him a flabbergasted look at the interaction.
...
Nancy and Steve didn't hang out much, but when they did it was in quiet, companionable silence. Quiet days spent doing their own tasks in the same room as one another, little to no conversation held between them. They were rocks in each others storms, despite the tension in their relationship.
She showed up at his house once every few weeks, and he didn't bring it up. That was just how it'd become, and they were both content with it. Her doing homework and college prep at his kitchen island while he prepared dinner for him and Robin.
Speaking of Robin, Nancy lifted her head with pinched brows, "Where's Robin?" she asked, looking around as if the redhead would appear from thin air upon being mentioned.
Steve, for once, actually wasn't sure. She'd biked to work that morning, though her shift would've ended an hour or two ago, and she should've been back by now. Normally, that would send a surge of panic down his spine.
Instead, he shrugged, "At the park by the Byers' house," he said, because there was a deep rooted certainty that that's exactly where she was. Peacefully taking a stroll in the afternoon sun.
(Bonus:
"Hey, Nance," Robin greeted, kicking off her shoes at the door.
"Robin," Nancy nodded shallowly, "Where've you been?"
"Work. Then the park, have you been to the one by Joyce's place? It's actually really nice, I've only ever been to the one around here, but--")
...
Jonathan, Argyle, Nancy, Eddie, Steve, and Robin hung out by the lake with surprising frequency. They weren't the average group of kids, but they were doing what the average groups of kids tended to do, which was smoke and drink while sprawled out on the grass.
Robin and Steve sat closest to the lake, the other four spread out loosely behind them. Eddie was providing the blunts, while Steve had brought the beer, and Jonathan and Argyle were smoking whatever specific blend of weed Argyle preferred.
Nancy had declined to smoke anything with any strength, one of her mothers cigarettes sitting comfortably between her lips instead, a beer can set down in the grass beside her. Robin and Steve were passing a blunt between the two of them, watching the sun set.
Steve's hand was on her chest before she'd even shifted to sit up, "If you do it I am not letting you in my car, Buckley," he said, not even turning to look at her. She slumped back into the grass while he took another drag, "Choose wisely."
The four behind them didn't say a thing, but exasperated, confused glances danced between them.