Chapter Text
Stacey might have the biggest fattest crush she ever had for the past seventeen years of her life. The problem is that nobody can know about it. Nobody can know, because her crush might as well be nerdy dorky-but in the cutest way-Dustin Henderson.
She can’t pinpoint exactly when it started. She remembers her younger self making fun of him and his friends and always getting side-eyed by that weird girl, Jane, if she remembers correctly. Gave her the chills every time.
He had caught her eyes once or twice during their freshman year. It was impossible not to, as he had surrounded himself with the likes of what you would typically call social pariahs. The cafeteria was big, but not big enough that you couldn’t hear that Munson kid scaring people off with his satanic persona. Cult-leader her ass. Stacey knew what it took to be a leader, she wanted to get into politics since she was 10 years old, after she saw a speech that Reagan gave about foreign policy. Of course she never was really into his ideas and saw right through his game of demonizing communism and the soviets. Sometimes she thanks god, or whatever bigger than their brains to understand power was there, that her mother was a buddhist and her dad a forced-to-conform hippie. At least she was free of any speech about the corruption of the body, the diabolic music and such other prudist matters.
And as Munson performed his usual anti- agenda, she could hear his abnormal laugh, with a mix of hiccups, from ten tables away. It reminded her of one of the seals they had seen with her folks at their trip to the zoo in California.
During spring-time, attending a party her friend Lisa made them sneak to, she half-expected him to show up after seeing his friend Lucas. The black skinned boy had actually started making a name for himself after picking up basketball, but it seemed like that decision wasn’t something appreciated for the up until now tight-knight party.
After what it seemed like the end of the world, her parents dragged her and her little brothers to volunteer. His brown messy curls were peeking through Steve Harriginton’s arms as hugged him tightly. Had she stayed a little longer, she would have noticed him shaking against Steve’s body.
Sophomore year was tough for everyone. Quarantined in their own small town, no out-town communication, the consistent feeling of being trapped, watched, monitored. For him though, for him it was hell.
She had noticed the quiet shift in him, and the way it took over him fully. His appearance had changed, his hair now passing his shoulders. She would take him in more than usual every time he entered class. His clothing pattern repeated more than the healthy amount for the clothes to be considered clean. And then came the insults, the bruises, the fights and the shouting, blood. She sat down and wrote everything she could remember, before presenting to her mother, who was a psychologist.
Signs of depression, repressed emotions, she had said.
One Friday morning Stacey stood awkwardly beside his locker waiting for him to finish packing his books. He hadn’t noticed her nearing him and once he closed the small metallic blue door, his left eyebrow raised in suspicion.
“What do you want Stacey?” he asked, his voice deeper than she remembered.
And she just stood there, unable to open her mouth and answer his question. Really, what was the reason that motivated her to come up to him, to wait for him and what, confront him? Ask what’s wrong, tell him it’s going to be okay? She had no right to.
Stacey turned on her heel embarrassed and walked away. She decided to avoid him for the rest of the year.
By the time the Christmas holiday rolled in, the military had left the small town of Hawkins Indiana in its peace.
After that, physics class during the third period was really quiet without him answering Mr Kiminski’s problem sets.
But Stacey had already acquired the nosy hobby of noticing. And so she did.
She noticed how the former zombie boy and that redheaded girl, Max (she remembered later on) had not only returned to the school but were also visiting Mrs Kelly office frequently, which made sense to a point, as both of them had suffered traumatic experiences. She noticed how Lucas stayed after practice to the gymnasium, how he seemed to be clinging off from Max’s arm all the time. She noticed that Wheeler had shut completely down, always somewhere lost into his head.
And Dustin, well, Dustin was still sad. But it was different this time, like he had accepted the fact that he would never see his friend again. He wasn’t dragging himself into that hole anymore, and for some reason, she felt relieved by that.
So, maybe it’s safe to say that Stacey tied herself to him emotionally throughout that period of time. Junior year made everything so much worse.
Because in 1988, sadness was an emotion that Dustin could finally control and with the rest of his friend group finally somewhat back to normal, he suddenly appeared everywhere.
And now his hair was shorter, his figure a little less chunky and more shaped. He carried himself in such an attractive way, gone was the little boy, his place taken by a confident man.
(And damn her, but the way his waist seemed to be dipping while wearing those golf pants had her feeling hot and bothered.)
Or maybe what made it worse is the fact that he started acknowledging her presence. Like the time where they both happen to run into each other at the super market.
She was on the fourth aisle, trying to figure out which clothes degreaser her dad had bought last time he was running late for work. From the corner of her eye, she saw him nearing her while carrying a little red shopping basket, filled with veggies. Her stomach made a nervous turn as he stopped one foot far from where she was standing.
A few minutes passed, yet she didn’t dare to take her eyes off from the variety of tags each bottle carried.
And then he decided to speak.
“How is the degreaser search going Stacey?”, his tone casual.
“Can’t say anything is looking positive for now.” she said, feeling her cheeks getting red. It was that obvious she was avoiding him, wasn’t it?
Stacey finally looked up, only to be met with two soft brown orbs.
“Sorry for that, I just, I don't know. I hate being awkward.”
“Nah, you being awkward? No way, you are good at communicating with people. I’ve seen you at debate, always ready to answer back.” he smiled warmly and she almost melted.
He picked up two bottles, a green degreaser and a vanilla softener and started walking towards the cashier, but not before pointing to a purple bottle two selves up from where she was looking. “I would go with lavender.”
At night she was laying in her newly washed sheets, wrapped around the smell of lavender, feeling more silly than ever.
And then there were the small gestures like shaking his hand in a greeting way whenever he saw her, nodding her way. Even when he was with his friends, a small smile would be there waiting for her to see.
During summer time, they even run to each other at some parties and wild fires near the lovers lake.
Yes, Stacey was crushing hard on Dustin Henderson and she couldn’t take it anymore. And as the hot breeze of August slowly started to get stronger as Autumn came by, she decided to take matters into her own hands.
“Henderson, I’d like for you to be my tutor.”