Chapter Text
Robin
Robin Buckley had gotten very good at pretending.
She pretended she didn’t notice the way Nancy Wheeler tucked her hair behind her ear when she was concentrating. Pretended she didn’t catalog every one of Nancy’s smiles like they were rare vinyl records. Pretended she didn’t feel something twist painfully in her chest every time Jonathan Byers wrapped an arm around Nancy’s shoulders.
It was exhausting, honestly.
Hawkins Public Library was unusually quiet that afternoon, sunlight slanting through the tall windows in dusty gold beams. Their whole little group had spread out across one of the long tables, textbooks and notebooks open, though actual studying was debatable.
Robin leaned back in her chair, balancing on two legs, chewing thoughtfully on the end of her pen. Across from her, Nancy was hunched over her notebook, brows furrowed in intense focus. Jonathan sat beside her, flipping through a history book, occasionally nudging Nancy gently when he found something relevant.
Robin tried not to stare.
She failed miserably.
“Robin.” Steve Harrington muttered from her left, not even looking up from his worksheet. “You’re doing the thing.”
Robin blinked. “What thing?”
“The staring-into-space-like-you’re-in-a-coming-of-age-movie thing.”
Robin scoffed quietly and leaned forward again, dropping her chair legs back to the floor. “I do not stare into space. I thoughtfully observe the universe.”
Steve finally glanced at her, one eyebrow raised.
She sighed. “Okay, fine. I was staring. But in my defense, the universe is very compelling.”
Steve followed her gaze, immediately understanding. He didn’t say anything, just gave her a look that was gentle in a way Robin hated because it made her feel seen.
Great.
Nancy laughed softly at something Jonathan said, and Robin felt it like a punch she’d learned to expect. Nancy always laughed with her whole face. It wasn’t polite laughter or forced social laughter. It was real. The kind that made her eyes crinkle and her shoulders shake just a little.
Robin swallowed and forced herself to look back down at her own notes.
She had known from the start this was a bad idea. She’d known the moment she realized she liked girls. Known even more clearly when she realized she liked this girl.
Nancy Wheeler was kind and brave and terrifyingly smart. She charged into danger like it personally offended her. She cared deeply, even when it cost her something. And she listened when Robin talked, even when Robin went off on one of her rambling tangents about music or languages or whatever strange thought had taken over her brain that day.
Nancy made Robin feel steady.
Nancy also had a boyfriend.
Jonathan Byers was quiet, thoughtful, and genuinely good to her. He brought Nancy coffee when she stayed up too late researching monsters. He held her hand during movie nights. He looked at her like she was the most important person in the room.
Robin had no right to want anything more. So she pretended. She pretended she was fine being the funny one. The sarcastic one. She pretended that sitting across from Nancy every week didn’t slowly unravel her.
“Okay.” Nancy said finally, stretching her arms over her head. “My brain is officially fried.”
Jonathan smiled at her. “Same.”
Steve closed his book with a dramatic thump. “Thank God. I was two seconds away from eating this highlighter out of boredom.”
Robin snorted despite herself.
Nancy glanced over at her. “Robin, did you finish the worksheet?”
Robin froze.
Nancy was looking at her. Actually looking at her.
“Oh. Uh. Totally!” Robin said, immediately flipping her paper over even though it was only halfway done. “Finished. Completed. Mastered. Academically conquered.”
Nancy smiled. Not the big laugh one. Just a soft, warm smile.
Robin’s heart did something deeply unhelpful.
"Can I see?” Nancy asked, already standing and walking around the table.
Robin’s pulse spiked. She scrambled to rearrange her papers, attempting to hide the blank sections.
Nancy leaned over her shoulder to look, close enough that Robin could smell her shampoo. Something floral and clean. Robin went completely still, afraid that if she moved even an inch, she’d somehow give herself away.
Nancy pointed at one of Robin’s answers. “This part’s wrong.”
Robin tilted her head. “Wow. Rude.”
Nancy laughed quietly and picked up Robin’s pen. “You forgot the date here.”
She wrote it in neat handwriting, her arm brushing Robin’s.
Robin swallowed hard.
Jonathan watched them from across the table, smiling fondly. There was no jealousy in his expression, no suspicion. Just trust.
That made it worse.
Nancy handed the pen back. “There. Fixed.”
“Thanks.” Robin said, her voice steadier than she felt.
Nancy hesitated for a moment, then squeezed Robin’s shoulder before heading back to Jonathan.
Steve saw all of it.
Later, outside in the parking lot, Steve walked beside Robin while Nancy and Jonathan drifted ahead, talking quietly to each other.
Robin kicked at a pebble on the pavement.
Steve cleared his throat. “You okay?”
Robin didn’t answer right away. “I’m fine,” she said eventually. It was automatic. Reflexive.
Steve hummed. “You don’t sound fine.”
Robin glanced at him. “I don’t get what I’m supposed to do, Steve.”
He waited.
“She’s amazing,” Robin said softly. “And she’s happy. And I don’t want to be the person who messes that up just because I have feelings I didn’t ask for.”
Steve nodded slowly.
“So I just...stay quiet.” Robin continued. “I make jokes. I be the supportive friend. I pretend it doesn’t hurt.”
Steve stopped walking.
Robin took a few steps before realizing, then turned back.
Steve looked at her with that same gentle seriousness. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”
Robin’s throat tightened. “I know,” she said. “That’s kind of the problem.”
Steve stepped forward and pulled her into a quick, one-armed hug. Robin let herself lean into it, just for a second. Then, she straightened up before anyone else could notice.
Across the lot, Nancy turned back to check on them, waving when she caught Robin’s eye.
Robin waved back, smiling.
Because that’s what she did. She loved quietly. She waited patiently. She stood in the space between what she wanted and what was right.
And for now, that would have to be enough.
Robin walked home from the library that evening, the sky turning darker. The air smelled like damp grass and early spring rain, and for some reason it made her heart ache with all the small, quiet things she wanted to say and couldn’t.
Steve had walked her halfway before heading off to check on Dustin, who probably had invented a new “emergency science experiment” at Mike’s house. Steve had given her that look again. The one that said, I know, and it’s okay. Robin had smiled, waved, and then let the silence follow her the rest of the way.
She wasn’t the type to cry over someone she couldn’t have. She was smart enough to know the difference between wanting someone and having them. But wanting Nancy Wheeler like she did? That was a slow, persistent kind of ache. Like swallowing soda too fast and having it fizz in your chest.
Robin slid her key into her door, kicked her shoes off, and flopped onto the couch. The small space felt empty without anyone around, since her parents were usually gone on business trips. Her phone buzzed. And she smiled at the name.
Will: Wanna hang out?
Gosh, she loved that kid. He reminded her a lot of herself in many ways, not just the fact that they were both queer.
She typed back immediately.
Rockin' Robin: Always.
Will was sitting cross-legged on his bed when she arrived, headphones around his neck and a notebook full of sketches and notes spread across his desk. “Hey, Robin.” He said softly, smiling.
“Hey, you.” Robin said, leaning against the doorframe. “You working on something?”
Will waved vaguely at his drawings. “Just doodling. You?”
Robin shrugged. “Avoiding homework, mostly. And...people.” She let the last word hang.
Will tilted his head, catching the meaning immediately. “Ah,” he said. “The complicated people situation.”
Robin flopped onto his bed beside him. “Yeah. You know, the one where someone’s already taken, and you’re supposed to just...keep quiet.”
Will nodded. “I get it. Mike’s been complicated for me too.” His cheeks colored faintly. “You know, crush-wise.”
Robin turned to look at him. “Really? I thought you were all best friend, keeping it that way when it came to him.”
He laughed softly. “Yeah, well, being queer in Hawkins means we don’t exactly get front-row seats to normal. I like Mike. He doesn’t know, and I’m figuring out how to deal with it.”
Robin smiled, something soft and understanding in her eyes. “Same. Sort of. I like someone too. And they don’t know. And they probably never will.”
Will’s gaze softened. “Who?”
Robin turned her head to the wall, suddenly very interested in a crack in the paint. “Nancy Wheeler,” she admitted quietly. “I know she's with your brother. And their happy together. Friendship is enough. Some days, I even believe it.”
Will’s hand found hers briefly, a small comfort. “I get it,” he said. “I really do.”
Robin exhaled. “Sometimes I think Steve’s the only one who knows the whole story. Everyone else...it’s just me pretending.”
Will nodded. “Yeah. Same here. But Steve's good at letting us have our feelings without making a big deal. I think that’s why he’s...Daddy Steve. Or whatever.”
They both laughed. Robin leaned back against the pillow and let herself breathe. She could be honest here. With Will, she could share the ache without it feeling dangerous.
Robin sat cross-legged on her bedroom floor, a stack of CDs and notebook papers spread around her like some kind of chaotic battlefield. She had been compiling this mixtape for Nancy for days. Trying to make it look casual.
It was no where near casual.
The songs weren’t subtle. Not really. Every track was chosen for a reason. The lyrics saying what Robin would never say out loud, melodies that hit her chest just right, the kind of music that made her feel alive and like maybe, if Nancy listened close enough, she’d understand.
But the goal was camouflage. She’d told herself over and over; it’s just a gift. Friendly. Harmless. Normal.
Steve, of course, was hovering in her doorway, arms crossed, wearing that expression that said he knew exactly what she was doing. “You’re making a mixtape for Nance?” he asked, eyebrows raised.
“Duh,” Robin said, not looking up. “Friendly, I promise. Totally platonic.”
Steve leaned against the doorframe. “Uh-huh. Because every song you picked so far screams I like you in an aggressively obvious way.”
Robin gave him a look. “Steve, I have standards. I am discreet.”
Steve snorted. “Discreet. Uh-huh.”
“Shut up,” she muttered, rolling her eyes but smiling anyway.
By the next evening, the mixtape was finished. She’d packaged it in a neat little paper sleeve with “for your listening pleasure” scrawled in her handwriting. Her chest tightened as she slipped it into her bag.
Movie night at the Wheeler's place. The gang was already there when she arrived. Max and El sprawled on the floor with a bag of chips, Lucas and Dustin arguing over the rules of some ridiculous board game, Will quietly sketching on the couch, Mike watching over his shoulder, and Steve perched near Robin like a guardian angel. Nancy and Jonathan were in the kitchen, laughing over something that had nothing to do with her.
Robin dropped onto the couch next to Steve, careful to keep her bag under her leg. She handed him a grin.
“Ready?” Steve asked, leaning back.
Robin nodded, but her attention kept drifting. Nancy had that laugh again. That laugh. Every time, it hit Robin right here, in her chest, and she clenched her hands in her lap.
As the night wore on, Robin found her moment. Nancy had wandered to refill her drink, leaving the couch empty. Robin slid the mixtape into her hands.
“Oh, hey, what’s this?” Nancy asked, turning it over in her hands.
Robin shrugged, casual. “Just something I put together. You know, songs I thought you might like.”
Nancy tilted her head. “Cool! Thanks.” She smiled warmly, oblivious, and set it on the coffee table. “I’ll check it out later!”
Robin nodded, forcing herself to look casual. Later. She’d almost died a little inside when she realized “later” could mean weeks.
“Hey!” Steve suddenly barked, spinning in his seat like a toddler who’d been ignored. “Where’s mine?”
Robin blinked. “What?”
“My mixtape!” Steve leaned over the couch dramatically. “I demand music too, Robin. Don’t even think about leaving me out of your musical masterpieces.”
Dustin, who had been busy arguing with Lucas, piped up. “Yeah! Gimme! If Robin’s doing them, I want one too!”
“Seriously?” Robin said, laughing, trying to mask how relieved she was the attention had shifted away from her carefully crafted feelings. “Fine, fine, I’ll make one for everyone.”
Nancy wandered back with her drink just in time to see Robin’s triumphant victory over Steve. “What are you all talking about?” She asked, genuinely curious.
“Oh, nothing.” Robin said quickly, hiding the blush in her cheeks. “Just music stuff. Friend stuff.”
Nancy smiled and plopped down beside Jonathan, completely unaware of the subtle storm Robin had tried to hide in a little paper sleeve.
Robin leaned back, exhaling. Steve nudged her with his elbow, whispering, “Smooth. Master of subtle.”
Robin glared at him playfully. “You promised you wouldn’t say anything.”
“Yeah, but it’s obvious.” Steve said, grinning. “Totally obvious.”
Robin rolled her eyes, but inside, her heart felt a little lighter. She’d done it. She’d shown a piece of herself. Quietly. Safely. And for now, Nancy would just think it was a nice gesture from a friend.
But maybe, for now, that was a good thing.