Archive of Our Own

It wasn’t exactly a straight shot to Boston from Northampton. One local bus that zipped down to Springfield where she hopped onto the Greyhound that ferried her into the bustling central ventricle at the heart of downtown; South Station. Robin had made the trek a time or two, recreationally. Not, however, with a duffle bursting at the seams and slung over her shoulder that felt heavier every time she lugged it from one vehicle to the next. Her arms hung limply on the upholstered seats of the Greyhound as she slumped, grateful for the two hours of rest. She also had never done this journey quite so early in the morning, as the near empty bus crawled forward on its way at 7:59 AM as the sun just peeked out above the modest, suburban downtown. Didn’t hurt that central Massachusetts had already begun bleeding red and yellow and orange across its verdant landscape, painting quite a technicolor picture out Robin’s window. In the throes of autumn, every route through New England was the scenic route. 

None of that, however, not the aching muscles nor bleary eyes, was the reason her leg jittered against the vinyl floor as exits whipped past. Setting Robin on edge was that she had never before made this trip to Boston with Nancy Wheeler waiting for her at the end. 

Which was stupid, given their relatively close proximity to each other for over a year now, she figured. They both knew the other was going to college in the same state and yet neither of them made any concrete plans to meet up. Not even a polite we should catch up in passing last winter, and Robin frowned as she worried whose fault that was. Should she have said something? Of course she should have, god damnit. Robin knew how to get to Boston, but why should Nancy have to haul ass out to the woods just to see her? God, what a shitty friend she’d been. That’s what Nancy was likely thinking as she tapped her toe on the floor of the train station. Brow arched, scowl fixed and arms crossed. Careening down the turnpike, the bus took her closer and closer to the inevitable tap, tap, tapping that echoed in Robin’s skull.

And yet, all that she heard once her sneakers stumbled across the smooth granite floors of the main hall, while her neck craned to glimpse the looming, black tickerboard hanging from the ceiling, was the melodic call of, “Robin!” 

Whipping her head around, she spotted Nancy weaving through the morning rush hour crowd towards her. No tapping toes. Arms uncrossed and clutching a sleek Samsonite in typical polished Wheeler style. In place of a scowl, just a wide, dazzling grin. If the sight of her perked Robin right up, doused in the golden sunlight trickling in through the wall of windows, then the warmth of Nancy’s arms flung around her shoulders jolted her wide awake. 

“You made it!” Nancy exclaimed into Robin’s hair, drawing back before Robin could shift the duffle and get at least one arm around her. A stripe of skin tingled where Nancy’s hands grazed her arm and her lungs filled with that fruity shampoo and if the deadweight duffle didn’t make her knees buckle, the enduring pull of Nancy’s gravity sure would do the trick. Giving Robin a once over and coming back up with a creased brow, Nancy assured her, “Don’t worry, I have our tickets and the train is right over there.” 

Robin could only choke out a laugh and stutter, “Great! I–I was worried, actually, so that’s, um, great.”

Suitcase in hand, Nancy smiled amusedly at her and nodded her head towards the doors to the outdoor platforms behind her. Robin was suddenly extremely grateful for her stupid duffle, so she didn’t have to explain why she doddled in Nancy’s wake like she just had the wind knocked out of her. 

She also mentally praised the humble drip coffee for giving her an excuse to slip out from under Nancy’s always curious gaze and scurry off to the dining car as soon as the train dipped into the tunnels below Boston. Doubly so for how it also gave her something to stem the nervous trickle of nonsense from her blabbering gob once she returned. Gently, she set a stout paper cup down in front of Nancy on her opened tray table before settling into her seat with her own. A swift tug of the tab and she took a sip of the near piping hot sugary sludge she’d concocted as Nancy did the same. 

“Mmm, you remembered?” Nancy assessed after a dainty sip, going back in to savor a longer pull. 

Robin shrugged as her ears burned, thankfully hidden beneath the thick curtain of her straw blonde hair. 

“Something stuck after all those late nights and early mornings planning the crawls I guess. And, well it’s just two creams. You’re not that complicated, Wheeler,” Robin teased her matter-of-factly, eyes trained on the amber droplets clinging to the corrugated plastic of the tab. 

“I guess not, compared to all the Eastern philosophy and Russian literature classes you must be taking,” Nancy goaded her. Robin peered over at her, finding her lounging against the window and cradling the paper cup beneath her smirk. 

“Oh but you didn’t need all that academia, of course. Looking like a star reporter already,” came her retort, tumbling out of Robin’s mouth without a second thought. Nancy laughed softly into her lap and Robin leaned her shoulder against the seat back to face her. Her whole body eased back into the familiarity of old habits, like slipping back into the warmest bath. 

“I can look the part, at least,” Nancy sighed, picking at the lapel of the blazer that nearly swallowed her in wool. “While I photocopy receipts and try not to get fired this time.” 

“This time?” Robin queried, wracking her brain to remember Nancy ever deigning to work a part time job in high school. 

Nancy clarified, “Sorry. I worked at the Hawkins Post one summer, just as an intern. The summer that they…that you were…” 

Robin’s eyes widened as she realized what Nancy was trying to delicately refer to, with a nervous wave of her hand trying to fill in the rest. Yes, the summer of her Russian kidnapping and torture beneath a suburban mall. The same one where above ground, she had to help children fight an eldritch horror made of the decomposed guts of her neighbors. Watched it impale the once invincible Billy Hargrove like he was nothing more than an olive on the end of a toothpick. Stood there numb with fear as he bled out on the linoleum, while one little girl screamed and another used psychic powers to rip the flesh monster apart, blood dribbling down  her nose from her surely hemorrhaging brain. Also, the summer she was drugged to the point of admitting her deepest darkest secret to the one person in town she was sure would torment her for it. Although, she supposed that one turned out okay in the end. 

Eventually, the ticking film reel of nightmares morphed back into the rattling wheels of the train down the track. Blinking blearily, she found Nancy watching her. Those wide eyes still so blue and flitting regretfully across Robin’s face and where her fingers drummed around her coffee cup. Robin was reminded that Steve wasn’t the only upside to that dreadful week. 

“The summer that I met you?” she chirped instead, and Nancy’s face brightened in pleasant surprise. “Well, officially at least.” 

“Right, that’s the one,” Nancy confirmed with a slow nod and the corner of her mouth curling upwards. Robin wanted to trace it, flicking her thumb against the sharp edge of the lid in her grip until that urge subsided. Nancy tossed off the softness they’d settled into with a shake of her head and pivoted, “But, um, what about you? How is it going over at Smith? Is it everything you expected it would be?” 

“It’s great! Although, I will say don’t believe everything you hear. Not every girl is a lesbian,” Robin divulged, playfully rolling her eyes.

“I hadn’t heard that,” Nancy said with a chuckle. Slipping into a thought, her eyes narrowed at something over Robin’s shoulder. Head cocked decidedly, she added, “Now that you mention it, an all girls school…yeah I can see that. Disappointed?”

“Anything would have been better after Hawkins, with its population of two point five girls even just remotely interested in other girls in my age bracket, yours truly being one of them,” Robin reasoned, noting how Nancy pursed her lips at that. She carried on anyway, surmising, “So it is an improvement, statistically. But the whole liberal arts component actually makes it hard to tell who is and isn’t. A lot of baggy sweaters and copies of Sylvia Plath under everyone’s arm.” 

Nancy snickered into her coffee, swallowing the mouthful before inquiring, “Wait, Sylvia Plath was a lesbian?” 

Tipping her half empty cup towards Nancy, Robin intoned, “Depends on who you ask, and actually, their answer usually tells me who is.”  

Lips pressed together, Nancy nodded sagely and they both relaxed back into their respective seats. Robin pressed her shoulders flat against the worn leather at her back, stretching the strained muscles that cried out for attention after all that heavy lifting. 

“Am I the point five?” 

Robin turned her head apprehensively to peer at Nancy. This turn in the conversation felt akin to stepping out on a ledge. Choosing her steps wisely, she inched forward. 

“Yeah, I mean you certainly liked…,” Robin began, waving her hands around a nonsensical shape. Nancy blinked. “But you weren’t exactly, you know, available to actually date. So, yeah. Point five.” 

Teetering on the edge of fucking this up again a mere thirty minutes into the five hour train ride, Robin watched Nancy frown down at her coffee cup. Thoughtfully, or so Robin estimated. She didn’t seem agitated, not like Robin remembered, how she would straighten up with clenched fists and narrowed eyes. 

“There are lesbians at Emerson too, you know,” Nancy proclaimed, matter-of-factly. 

“You’ve…seen them around with other girls?” Robin attempted to translate that statement, voice dropping to just above a whisper. It wasn’t an entirely empty train, and even after a year in at the American equivalent of the Island of Lesbos, it was hard to shake the habit. 

“I’ve dated them,” Nancy informed her, as if she’d simply shared the time. 

“You…you’ve…oh! Like with…okay, yeah! That’s great! I’m so…great!” Robin flubbed, feeling the pink rising to her cheeks as if she had been the one who just outed herself. 

“You’re great?” Nancy teased her, a toothy smirk taking root and it only turned up the heat across Robin’s cheeks and splotchy neck. 

“I mean, yes, I am. But so are you! It’s great,” Robin prattled on, hands waving wildly and not making her any more convincing. 

Emitting a breathy laugh, Nancy agreed, “Yeah, it is great, actually.” 

Robin nodded rapidly, far too much, until the shock of it all subsided and her jittering limbs settled. Eying her more closely, Robin wished she could say she saw it now, that Nancy had that comfortable glow about her as she embraced everything she was. But no. Even though she’d swapped pleated skirts for the sharp crease of trousers, Nancy looked just as fully in command of herself as she always had, to Robin at least. 

She had to look away before she crossed the line into gawking and chewed on her lip before she let slip the first thought that came to mind, “So, is that why you dropped out, why you really dropped out?” 

“What? It’s college, everyone is messing around. You think they ran me off campus because I slept with a few girls?” Nancy scoffed, jutting her chin out defensively. 

Robin couldn’t feel the sting of Nancy’s scorn, not while she processed the fact that Nancy hadn’t just dated these girls. She’d slept with them. Slept with more than one girl. Holy shit. Her renewed shock must have been visible on her traitorous face, as Nancy squinted at her and shifted her jaw. 

“No, no, no! Not the whole school, I meant like, you know, maybe one of your paramours did? Lesbain breakups can be really messy, trust me, I know,” Robin sympathized, in a raspy hurry to absolve herself of whatever she’d accidentally insinuated. It wasn’t every day that you learned that your experimental tryst with the hottest girl in school had been good enough to stick. The very thought lodged itself warm and bright in her chest. 

A snort from Nancy interrupted her inner crisis, rolling her eyes as she assured Robin, “No. It wasn’t like that. There was nothing that serious going on with anyone.” 

Robin breathed a weird hybrid between a laugh and a sigh and dredged the last of her coffee to prevent any other sounds coming out. Nancy mirrored her, still scanning her face skeptically and keeping whatever she found to herself with a lick of her lips. 

“So,” Robin tested her voice, finding it cracked but capable of speech again. “After all this time, you’re finally trying Nancy ‘The Slut’ Wheeler on for size, huh?” 

“Robin!” Nancy cried, smacking her arm with the back of her hand. Laughter overtook them both, as blush subsumed Nancy’s pale cheeks. Just how Robin remembered her, pretty in pink, her favorite color on her. With a playful rise of her brow, Nancy teased her, “Not jealous, are you?”

It was Robin’s turn to snicker, shaking her head as she maintained, “Very funny, but no. You don’t have to worry about me, it was a long time ago.” 

Genuinely, Robin meant it, and she hoped Nancy believed her and would do or say whatever it took to ensure that. Throw herself at her feet, if she had to, but that was all a bit intense to say aloud. She stuck to her sincere smile and reassuring tilt of her head against the leather seat. The devilish arch dimmed across Nancy’s face, however, and Robin could have sworn the corner of her mouth twitched into a frown before she threw on an easy smile. 

“Of course,” Nancy agreed, nodding curtly and leaving Robin to figure out what the hell that was. All she could come up with was the incredibly implausible possibility that Nancy wanted her to be jealous. To what end, she couldn’t fathom, but the warm, bright thing in her chest only grew hotter, pressing against her lungs and she so badly wanted to ask why. Itched to call her on it, drag it out into the waning sunlight and remind her that she was still the same Robin. The same girl from the radio station basement and Nancy didn’t have to bullshit her. Nothing had to change, they were still friends, or so Robin had thought. But before she could even compose a clever joke to broach such a question, Nancy stifled a tiny yawn behind her hand. 

With a sigh through her nose, Robin took mercy on her this once and offered, “You can sleep if you want.”

“No! Just had an early start, but I’m–” 

Robin had already bent over to rummage through her backpack and yanked out a butter yellow Walkman with a tangle of headphones dangling from it. 

“It’s fine, really,” she insisted, shaking the cassette player in her hand demonstratively. 

Perking up a bit, Nancy held her hand out expectantly and Robin wouldn’t dare deny her, plopping the player in her palm. She clicked it open, peering inside at the Bowie tape. Before she could say a word, Robin reached down into her bag and pulled out a handful of plastic cases. 

“I’ve also got Tears for Fears, Pixies, and oh, The Stone Roses,” Robin read off the spines of the cassette boxes. “Enough for the whole trip.” 

Nancy’s cheeks broke into a toothy grin, shaking her head as she clicked the player shut. 

“I do miss your music recommendations on the radio,” Nancy told her, flitting her eyes back up to look at her. When Robin nailed her with a pointed stare, Nancy huffed and clarified, “Yes, even the ones not dedicated to me.” 

“Mmhmm,” Robin hummed, knowingly, taking her Walkman back and dropping it in her lap. 

Rolling her eyes, Nancy settled back into her seat, arms crossed and cracking her neck as she threw out casually, “Are you still doing the radio thing? They have to have a college station out there, right?” 

“Nah,” Robin replied, dexterously plucking the Tears for Fears tape from its case and swapping it out for Bowie in her player, all with one hand. “My tastes might have been exciting for small town Indiana, but they pale in comparison to the girls running the Smith station. I’d be laughed out of the booth.” 

With a satisfying pop, the Tears for Fears tape slotted into place onto the spokes, and her thumb snapped the case shut. Lifting her attention back to her seatmate, she found Nancy’s lidded gaze trained on her lap, intently watching the tape swap and Robin’s nimble fingers at work. She swallowed quietly, focusing back down on the buttons and trying not to think of what thought might have sprung to Nancy’s mind. Definitely willing herself to not to blush like a prude at the very idea that Nancy thought about those nights at all. Surely she didn’t, not with the whole of Boston proper at her, well, fingertips. How could Robin compete with the rich girls at BU or the musical geniuses at Berklee, or the broad shoulders of the girls crew team over the river at Harvard that could quite literally sweep her off her feet and carry her bridal style to bed. 

Nancy definitely didn’t stay awake in her dorm bed in the deafening quiet of central Massachusetts remembering soft skin and curves pressing into her hands and puffs of panting breaths against her neck. Clenching a fist at her side and trying to figure out how deeply asleep her roommate was by timing the seconds between her inhales. 

“Well, for what it’s worth, I like your taste,” Nancy declared, as Robin blinked back to reality. Save for the wry smile that lingered, Nancy had now assumed the position to welcome sleep. Her head tilted back, eyes shut, and body gone slack. 

For that, Robin was grateful. Nancy hadn’t meant it that way, certainly not. But god did the implication have her legs clenching and her skin burning the brightest shade of red humanly possible. 

—

The train rolled to a slow, creaky stop in Philly as dusk filled the platform with amber and cranberry hues through the skylights. Together, they lumbered along with the masses and piled into a cab. The car zipped down the narrow streets and deposited them on the sidewalk in front of a wide, brick rowhouse. It loomed over them on the quiet street, sandwiched between several stretching in either direction, fairly uniform but in varying size and brick wash and painted lintel. A quick heave of their luggage up the small front steps and they shouldered the front door open. 

The townhouse wasn’t nearly as big as Robin had remembered it being when she was half her current height. She could graze the upstairs ceilings with her fingers and the halls were narrow and the thick wooden doors bore nicks from a century of use, probably. But it managed to fit three spare bedrooms tucked away in its three floors, and two bathrooms to split between the four of them. Her and Nancy nabbed the biggest one since they were the first to arrive, with Nancy volunteering they share it. 

Fine. Totally makes sense, as they knew each other best out of the four of them and it would be the least weird, Robin reasoned, in her head. Outwardly, she smiled too big and trilled a confirmation in a pitch only meant for dogs. 

It also had her Uncle Jay, as scrawny and slender as she was give or take thirty-ish years. He proudly showed off the fresh towels he’d laid out on each bed like a fancy hotel and scrambled down the stairs to welcome the boys as they rang the bell one after the other. But once they’d all gathered, he darted back to the kitchen where he had a pot of some sort of meaty stew on for all of them and a loaf of frozen garlic bread ready to throw into the oven. 

Robin beamed at his every move, feeling how badly she missed her favorite relative flooding her every nerve. 

Over said dinner, at a sturdy round table that nearly filled the entire dining area, Uncle Jay regaled his guests with the story of the house. The family hadn’t built it, but bought it for cheap some 100 years ago. None of Jay’s siblings had fought him for it when his eldest status dictated that he inherit it, and he hardly blamed them. The house was the sole inheritance, but turned out it was more of a burden than a gift. Grand as it was for city living, it was in need of some modern updates and they were a fairly modestly employed family. 

“Is everyone in your family named after birds?” Jonathan had puzzled, their bellies bloated with beef and potatoes and a near empty bottle of wine at the center of the table. 

“What? No, that’s just a coincidence,” Robin rebuffed him, but her Uncle chuckled. 

“Well, my sister, and your mother’s name is Dove and your grandfather’s name was Wren…” he laid out for her. Robin’s eyes lit up as the realization hit her for the first time.

“Wait, this isn’t the first time you’ve thought of this, is it?” Jonathan teased her, and she dragged her hand down her face at her own ignorance in lieu of answering. That sent the table erupting in laughter at her expense, including the cackling of her Uncle as Steve clapped her on the shoulder. Robin hardly minded, glancing around at the table of ruddy, delighted faces that she’d so sorely missed seeing in one place. The sound of their merriment filling the high ceilings like bobbing waves, buoying Robin as if she were flat on her back as the water lapped at her cheek. And Nancy, shaking her head with eyes glossed over with wine and a lazy grin slapped across her face

True to her Uncle’s word, the house sure did show its age the longer they traversed its halls. The floors creaked with every step and the water took a while to get hot. The latter was something Robin got to inform the group of after shivering, naked and barefoot, on the black and white tile of their designated bathroom given Nancy had been so kind as to let her shower first. The dance of getting ready for bed in their shared room also proved a bit tight, but they managed just fine with a few blushing apologies and no, you first, I insist. As they all collapsed beneath quilts and covers, the city clamoured on outside the thick, eighteenth century walls with the errant siren and distant pops of hopefully a backfiring car. 

But in that room, amidst all the foreign sounds and smells with her head sinking into the too-soft pillow, Robin felt a stillness she couldn’t find even in the dense forests of New England. The monsters may be gone now, impaled or locked away behind a sealed wormhole, but the fear still saturated her bones when the lights went out and the room went quiet. Although it wasn’t the distant symphony of city nightlife or the eternal city glow bleeding through the sheer drapes as useless as gauze. 

Beside her, Nancy slept a respectable distance away. Robin could watch the rise and fall of the curve of her silhouette. Hear her deep exhales and a faint whistle with every other inhale. The whole world shrank to just that room and the lumps of Nancy’s familiar body draped in a navy quilt. It was a feeling so lost to her that she’d forgotten what it felt like. Before she could name it, she slipped into a dreamless sleep. 

– 

One good night’s sleep was hardly enough to make up for the exhaustion that seemed to plague her for the past year, but it was certainly a start. For one, her muscles were unusually soft and loose as she sat up. Gone was the ache that she typically woke up to from crunching in on herself as she slept. Sighing gratefully, Robin happily wiggled her toes over the side of the bed and stretched her arms in either direction. 

The first floor was empty as she padded along groggily through the rooms. She hadn’t checked the time, but it didn’t shock her she was the first one up. Hand ruffling her hair and eyes blinking in the darkened galley kitchen, she found the light switch and cowered at the fluorescent bulb buzzing to life. 

A note stuck to the fridge caught her eye, from her Uncle. 

Got called in for a job for a few days, sorry to jet so soon Robbie. Spare keys on the counter are yours to keep. Coffee machine is prepped, just turn it on. Don’t burn the place down! 

Sure enough, a ring of keys sat dead center on the tiled counter and with the press of the Brew button, the coffee machine gurgled to life. Unable to do much else in her current state, she plopped down into one of the chairs around the breakfast nook and let the rich scent of morning brew waft over to her. 

She figured the tantalizing aroma must have made it upstairs when Steve appeared in the archway of the dining room, wool socks shuffling across the floor with porcupine hair. They both mumbled pleasantries and he collapsed in the remaining chair opposite her. Minutes ticked by as they sat in silence, until the steam and dribble of the machine subsided. Hand held up wordlessly, Steve volunteered to grab two mugs from the rack on the wall and poured them both a generous amount. 

“Nice to see the smell of coffee still raises you from the dead,” Robin noted, after two gulps of the much needed elixir. 

Slurping his own mug, Steve shook his head and corrected her, “This is now my normal wake up time most days.” 

Squinting, Robin searched the room for a clock and her eyes bulged when she read the time. 

“Jesus, it’s 7:30? I was hoping to sleep in,” she lamented, rubbing her forehead. 

“Well, we’re adults now I guess. Getting up at dawn and enjoying a cup of sludge before we punch in,” figured Steve, but Robin scoffed at him. 

“Speak for yourself. My impressionable young mind is still being moulded in the halls of academia,” Robin rebuffed, holding out her mug by its handle in her best impression of a stuffy professor. 

“Halls of academia, huh? Your new look these days is more hippie on the quad passing out flyers to get people to join her commune,” grumbled Steve. 

Robin jabbed a finger at the air and argued, “Excuse me, they’re just a Marxist discussion group…but they do all live in one house, so it might also be a commune.” 

Steve held up his mug with a gloating grin, and Robin shook her head lovingly. The caffeine buzzed in her veins and the chuckle at her best friend’s gentle ribbing eased her spine as she stretched against the back of the chair. 

“It looks good on you, by the way, your new hippie look,” Steve added, sincerely this time. 

“Yeah?” Robin croaked. 

“Yeah. It suits you,” he confirmed, with those round, dopey, earnest eyes that she so sorely missed. 

– 

Nothing much came of the weekend, as none of them had thought much further beyond making it to the house relatively on time. They ventured out into Philly once the other two had woken up. The perfectly crisp fall day and the cobblestones littered with brightly colored leaves felt like the backdrop to one of those classic films as they meandered aimlessly. Well, until they wandered down a neighboring street and then another, and another, until they all revealed they thought Robin knew where they were going. It took them a good forty-five minutes to find their way back. 

They kept to the house after that, lounging around and playing a few rounds of gin with the deck of cards Steve found in his bedroom’s dresser. To no one’s surprise, Nancy was particularly adept at it and may or may not have hustled them all that first round. She wouldn’t own up to it either way and kept insisting that it had been a long time since she’d played. 

Jonathan shocked them all by whipping up dinner with what he scavenged in the fridge and pantry. Chicken Parmesan and a big bowl of salad. Bashful as always, he reminded them all how he did most of the cooking in his house and it wasn’t a big deal. And yet, Robin spotted the small smile when everyone marveled at the plate of freshly breaded cutlets with bubbling cheese on top that he gingerly lowered onto the table. It tasted as divine as it looked, and they washed it down with the remaining bottle of wine in her Uncle’s fridge. 

They talked and laughed through mouthfuls of lettuce and chicken and regaled each other with tales of their exploits and bumbling missteps in their newly adult lives. It was an uneventful weekend, but nice. Almost normal, like they really were old friends catching up with a normal small town bond over a shared after school club or whatever. Robin figured they could call it that in a sense, the after school monster hunting club. Not that she could have put that on her college applications.

And as much as she tried, Robin couldn’t stop herself from finding Nancy in every room, across every table and couch. Mostly, they exchanged looks of exasperation at the boys,  followed by a shared eye roll or a gentle nudge as an unspoken joke passed between them. Although, every so often, her eyes just drift over to find Nancy wherever she was. Watching her cool expression behind her hand of cards, intently rubbing a spot dry on a dish with the towel, or idly playing with the tassels of a pillow, splayed lazily on the couch as they all watched garbage on T.V. She had a whole new way about her now, an easy swing in her limbs and a casual tilt to her usually ramrod straight posture. Everything looked the same, for the most part, and she’d always emanated an arrogance that was fairly earned, but Robin had never seen her move like that, so comfortable and lived in. Like she knew her body for the first time. Or, maybe, had just grown up in a way Robin hadn’t, in a way didn’t recognize when she looked at herself in the mirror. 

Rarely, though, Robin would catch Nancy watching her. Every time, Nancy would revert her attention to whatever she’d been doing. Snapping her head forward or dropping her gaze to pick at her nailbeds. And Robin would gingerly bite the tip of her tongue with her front teeth to keep from smiling. Huh.  

–

An hour into the next monthly train down to Philly, Robin pulled a cassette tape out of her bag and held it out over the armrest to Nancy. 

“I took the liberty of putting together a bunch of songs that I think you’d be into. Consider it a personal, portable Rockin Robin,” she announced proudly. 

Nancy’s entire face lit up as she spotted the gift, mouth falling open in the way Robin knew she was trying to find a polite way to ask something. Robin stupidly hadn’t considered that something until that moment. 

“They’re just songs,” Robin quickly attested to her. Waving the tape like a white flag, she insisted, “No ulterior motives this time, I swear.” 

Snapping her mouth shut, Nancy sighed through her nose into a genial smile. Extending an open palm, she accepted the tape with a gracious nod. 

“I actually do need something to listen to. I’ve burned through the few tapes I took with me to Boston pretty quickly and I haven’t had time to pick up anything new in, god, a year?” she told her. Turning the cassette case over in her hands, she lifted it closer to admire Robin’s scrawl of the track names; all eleven of them crammed onto the little insert as neatly as she could manage.

Gasping, Robin gawked, “Nancy Wheeler not keeping up with trends–” 

“Will you stop using my full name?” Nancy interjected, throwing her hands up but Robin carried on. 

“My, how Boston has changed you!” Robin cried, hand to her chest in feigned shock. 

Swatting at her with the tape, Nancy rolled her eyes. Robin chuckled at her own joke as Nancy ignored her to rummage around in her bag. She pulled out a silver Walkman and tried to untangle the wires from her ensnared ring of keys. 

“That’s not entirely true, though. You have the very trendy Princess Di haircut,” Robin pointed out. 

“What? No I don’t,” she argued, glaring at Robin between attempts at tugging a headphone loose from its wiry nest. 

“Really? You just happened to decide to get the exact same swoopy chop as the most famous woman in the world?” Robin scoffed, resting her chin on her fist as she examined it further. 

“It’s not exactly the same,” Nancy informed her, smartly. Reaching to the loose waves at her neck, she claimed, “Mine’s longer in the back.” 

“Okay, fine. But what did you tell the hairdresser when you sat down?” 

“I just…it’s practical,” Nancy reasoned, weakly. 

“Mmhmm, practically everywhere,” Robin teased her, and Nancy grimaced at the stupidity of her joke but laughed anyway. 

“You’re so annoying,” she grumbled. 

“And you will never escape your title as Hawkins’ Princess Priss,” Robin volleyed. 

Shaking her head as she failed to shake her smile, Nancy bit back, “Yeah, yeah. Well, you should see my humble castle these days.”  

“I’d love to,” Robin fired back. “See how the other half lives.” 

Nancy held her gaze, eyebrows raised as Robin realized she essentially just invited herself over. The sentiment crackled between them like static. 

“I’d love that, too,” Nancy ventured, softer and accompanied by a shy smile that sent her back to her lap to sort out the last of her tangled headphone wires. 

Robin sat still and alert in her seat, feeling every crease in the leather and hearing every plastic clatter of the in ear headphones as she twisted and threaded them through their rubbery cord. Even over the roar of the train chugging around a particularly sharp bend. She knew should offer to set a date, lest she lose her opening. Mentally going through her next few weekends, she found a Saturday or Sunday to spare, definitely. The fifteenth, maybe? But the icy dread gripped her throat that Nancy could just be polite. She hadn’t proposed a date either. They already had plans every month to see each other, and Nancy just said her time was in short supply these days. Robin would rather rip off her own fingernails than impose, knowing far too well what it felt like to be unwanted. She had no desire to ever experience that again. 

In all her mulling, though, the moment indeed passed her by before she could decide. Nancy had pushed her loosened headphones into her ears and loaded up the tape. Robin could only watch her now as she was barely able to catch the faint electronic snares of So Alive by Love and Rockets. And watch her Robin did. Head resting back against her seat, Nancy’s brow gathered as the first verse played. The corners of her lips tugged downward, thoughtfully or distastefully, Robin couldn’t quite tell. Until the song shifted into the chorus and her cheeks burst into a wide grin, bopping her head back and forth to the beat. 

Rolling her head over to hit Robin with that delighted smile, she relayed the verdict, “I really like this!” 

All Robin could do was nod emphatically, beaming back at her until she lost her to the music again. She tugged her own headphones from around her neck to cover her own ears, flooding them with whatever she’d been listening to on the bus. Volume blasting, and yet she could hardly hear it. Her ears buzzed with pride and her knee jostled in place to expel some of the energy vibrating through her. Sure, she’d dabbled in a few recreational organic substances at some parties in the woods that past year, she was no straight-edge. But the high of pleasing Nancy Wheeler was just as potent as it always had been, even after all this time. Even if it was just a stupid song. 

–

Given it was only their second visit to the wonderful city of Philadelphia, no one could fault them for not yet knowing which areas were best avoided after dark. 

Robin’s Uncle left them the house for the weekend, but with nothing in it to drink save a jug of orange juice. After dinner, they figured they wouldn’t have to venture far to hunt down the nearest purveyor of alcohol. The corner store they stumbled upon a few blocks away seemed fine at first, the trim of the blue and yellow striped awning flapping in the evening October breeze. Saddling the boys with as many six packs of beer as they could fit in their arms, they strutted out of the store with their haul. 

Perhaps it was the numerous glass bottles clinking as they rounded the corner down a residential street that drew attention to them. Or that the four of them looked comically out of place to said residents of that street, with even the two city dwellers among them yet to shed their suburban skins. Whatever the reason, Robin regretted leading the charge as she only blinked and suddenly found herself with a glinting switchblade in her face and a gruff demand to hand over her wallet. 

Body doused in ice water, her mouth gaped uselessly like a fish and she tried her best to get her shaking hands into her jacket pocket. A high pitched ring of panic clogged her ears but she faintly registered the much more aggressive clinking of jostling bottles behind her, Steve’s distant voice, and then the metallic click of something right over her shoulder. 

“Drop it.” 

Not Steve. Deep and dangerously serious, but unmistakably Nancy. 

Robin watched her mugger see it first, eyes widening and a string of words sputtering from his mouth that Robin couldn’t parse in her frantic state. Then, the nose of a small, silver handgun inched into view in the corner of her eye, pointing right at him. Her head turned slowly to follow the delicate wrists down the arms of a brown, houndstooth jacket until Nancy’s hardened face came into view. 

“I said drop it,” Nancy hissed, through gritted teeth. Her eyes flashed and she sidestepped Robin to advance further forward. Another snap that Robin knew meant the weapon was cocked at the ready. 

Something clattered at her feet and Robin jumped back, jittery and colliding with a grunting Steve. The mugger took off, turning a sharp right to disappear between two houses and on the sidewalk laid the abandoned knife. 

“Jesus, Nance! You still carry that thing?” Jonathan exclaimed, from somewhere behind Robin. Her eyes stayed glued on Nancy, who shrugged. In a single fluid motion, she flipped something that was probably the safety back on before depositing it into her purse as if it was nothing more than a tube of lipstick. 

“Thank god for that,” Robin croaked. It got Nancy to snap her attention to her, concern warping her features.  

“Are you okay?” she asked, with a tentative step, but just one. Her hands jerked upwards and then back to her sides as she seemed to malfunction while deciding what to do. A far cry from the resolve she displayed during that James Bond situation Robin just witnessed. The contrast brought forth a ripple of amusement that flushed the shock from her bloodstream, and allowed Robin to swallow thickly before nodding. She was, or she would be. She just needed a second to regain feeling in her legs. 

“Yeah, thank god for that!” came Steve’s raucous cheer. Standing there with his hand on his forehead, he looked from Jonathan straining beneath all the packs of beer Steve had foisted onto him to Robin who grimaced at him as best as she could. Hand waving in the air now, he roused, “I mean, come on, that was pretty sick!” 

“How about we get home before I need to do it again?” Nancy urged him, jerking her head down the street. He sprung back into action, taking his share of their spoils back from an agitated Jonathan and hurrying along behind the girls. 

Halfway through her second beer, Nancy finally conceded to their collective pestering and told them the one other time she had to use her pocket pistol. Downplaying it all, of course, but the tale thrilled the boys regardless.

Robin only half-listened, with one leg bent as she took up too much room lounging longways on the living room couch. Rather, she was trying really hard not to think about Nancy’s gun slinging from their walk home, certainly trying not to find it insanely hot. But the way she had gripped it with one hand, firm and sure and her thumb flicking whatever that thing was on the back to cock it, so smoothly. Even now, the way that same hand loosely held the neck of her beer bottle as she slouched in a velvety maroon arm chair. Robin tracked a drop of condensation drip down the green glass and disappear between her fingers. She knew quite well how strong those hands could be, what it felt like to be held by them, firm and sure.

God, she was failing miserably. 

The three beers sloshing around in her veins didn’t help with that when they all agreed to head up to bed. She’d forgotten how normal this was all now supposed to be when Nancy pulled her blouse over her head in their shared room. Getting changed for bed, of course, a normal thing to do. But when Nancy glanced over her shoulder, finding Robin gaping at her with a towel in her hand, she cracked a practically wolfish grin. 

Eyes flicking down her back, she asked for help with the latch on the back of her skirt. A benign request, with an even more innocent lilt in her voice. Those sky blue eyes blinked sweetly, and Robin just wished she was a bit more sober for this. 

Her hands trembled as she hooked her fingers under the waistband of the skirt. The downy skin of Nancy’s lower back brushed against her knuckles only just, but it was enough to unnerve her entirely. She quickly unhooked the latch and rushed off to the shower muttering something about panic sweats. Not exactly calm or cool or normal, and she had no idea how she was supposed to sleep next to Nancy that night and not relieve the ache between her own legs that had been multiplying all night long. 

So she did in the shower, fingers firm and sure as she drew tight circles as fast as she could. Flashes of Nancy’s smirk and hot breath on her ear and god, those fingers gripping her thighs splashed across her mind in the spray of the shower. Her other hand formed a fist for her to bite down on, lest a whimper slipped out and gave away her indulgence. As she pressed her forehead against the shower wall afterwards, the recklessness of what she’d just done sent Robin’s anxious rabbit heart into a frenzy. This was most definitely not a normal thing for friends to do, get off to the mere thought of the other’s hands with just two doorways between them. 

She was just drunk. Drunk enough. Maybe even feeling a little nostalgic. That’s all. 

Just in case, Robin reached for the cold knob and gave it a healthy twist to the left. 

– 

Somewhere in the middle of Connecticut, Nancy chuckled to herself in her seat as the train carried them back up north. It didn’t take much to draw Robin out of the dry, meandering book that she needed to finish in its entirety for class by Monday morning. 

“What’s so funny?” she asked, looking up at Nancy who had nothing but her Walkman in her hands and the blur of the Long Island sound to entertain her out her window. 

Punching the pause button, Nancy peered over at her and asked, “Did you put The Cure on here?” 

“Oh yeah, of course,” Robin confirmed. 

“They’re still your favorite band, huh?” she needled Robin, but to her that was like asking if the sky was still blue. 

“In my 19 years of life, I haven’t heard anything yet that can dethrone them,” Robin asserted, snidely. 

Nancy’s mouth hung open at that as she eyed Robin curiously. 

“You really haven’t changed a bit,” she determined, wistfully. Pinned beneath that steady, searching gaze, Robin felt like Nancy might scoop her up and tuck her in her pocket to take home. If it got her to look at Robin like that, she was beginning to think her comparative arrested development might have its upsides.

“Yeah, well, this is their new stuff,” Robin rasped, fighting the prickling blush that threatened to crawl further up her neck. “And you’re the one who recognized them without looking.” 

At the forward tilt of Robin’s head, Nancy pursed her lips for as long as she could before a reluctant smile overtook them. But she didn’t object. She did, however, hold up the Walkman as she narrowed her eyes at Robin and made a show of pushing the play button. Robin laughed through her nose and cracked her book back open. 

Not a moment later, Nancy piped up, “What’s it called?” 

The name popped easily into Robin’s head, but she paused to gulp before she answered. Add this one to the long list of things she didn’t fully think through.

Sheepishly, she pretended to read the same sentence over again and supplied, “Lovesong.” 

She heard Nancy hum and dared to peek over at her. To no surprise, she was positively smug. 

“Is that so?” she goaded her, clearly getting quite a kick out of poking Robin just a bit more. 

Rolling her eyes, Robin deflected, “They named it, not me.” 

Another glance over at Nancy, and her gratified half-smile was hardly dented. She just leaned back in the corner where the seat met the wall and studied Robin as the song played, like she didn’t believe her in the slightest. The headphones blared loud enough that Robin could pinpoint where she was in the song. Although muffled by the rattling carriage, Robin knew the lyrics well enough from memory to follow along. 

However far away, I will always love you. However long I stay, I will always love you. 

Burying her nose back in her book, Robin couldn’t blame her for that. Shit. 

Thankfully, Nancy didn’t bring it up again and they fell into a silent truce for the remainder of the trip. At some point, though, Nancy did run out of tape. Aided by the dim lights of the evening train, she nodded off and her shoulders slipped down the seat until her head landed on Robin’s shoulder. Her breath caught in her throat, but Nancy remained unmoved and slumped against her, with a swoopy tuft of hair dangling over her face. There was that familiar tang of shampoo again, but mingled with something new. A little powdery, perhaps it was a mousse she started using to style her new cut? That kind of effort went too far beyond Robin’s minimal beauty regiment.

Overwhelming as it all was on her senses, Robin stayed exactly where she was and didn’t turn a single page until they arrived in Boston. 

–

Their little meetups had gotten off to a great start the first two months, but the holidays threw a few wrenches into their good intentions. They’d hoped to piggyback on a return to Hawkins for Thanksgiving for their next visit, but Nancy decided to stay in Boston for a deadline. Christmas proved to be eventful for some, and a short stint back home for others. However, Steve was determined to find some time to gather the four of them in one place. Somehow, they managed to scrounge up one evening where they all could get away, for which Steve invited them over to his parents house. Insisted was more like it, but he emphasized that the location was for old time’s sake. 

He certainly delivered on that promise. Once again, the house sat vacant like Robin remembered it. The echoes of their voices collecting up in the vaulted ceilings and the only sound bouncing back were the languorous groans of the beams expanding and shrinking in the changing seasons. This time, his parents had jetted off to Colorado to ski, leaving the four of them to happily sprawl out in the empty den, the wood paneling and leftover Christmas trimmings cocooning them all in a cozy, festive glow as snow blanketed the woods outside. Truncated and minimally boozy as it was, with even Steve foregoing a second beer due to his early morning flight to join his parents, it was just as effective. The tension of everyday life that had built up in her spine and her shoulders softened and dissolved with every chortle and well timed zinger about Jonathan’s ever developing script about…capitalism? Colonialism? Whatever. 

In their near suffocating, prolonged goodbye hug, she made sure to thank Steve for his aggressive insistence. He lit up like a Christmas tree at her affection, returning the sentiment with how grateful he was to have Robin in his life still. Gulping down a knot in her throat, Robin shoved him in the shoulder before he got too mushy about it all. 

The Wheeler’s station wagon jostled her and Nancy quite a bit as it backed out of the gravel drive way, evening out once it hit the glossy tar of the road. 

“By the way, if you’re not busy, would you want to sleep over?” Nancy propositioned, shrugging as she kept her eyes trained on the dark, forested road. “Like Steve said, for old time’s sake?” 

Reeling back against the headrest, Robin tried not to mistake that to mean more than what it did. That Nancy’s room was anything other than four periwinkle walls and a plush carpeted floor. Where they’d be doing anything more than sharing a bed they’d outgrown, just like they had been doing for months now. If there was any suggestion in Nancy’s voice, she’d imagined it, nothing more than the ghost of Christmas past bleeding history into the now. With a wet gulp, Robin dammed the deluge of memories before they could surface.  

“Tempting but, I really do have to get home,” Robin declined, forlornly. 

“Right, of course. I don’t want to get you in trouble,” Nancy said, glancing at her with a flash of worry and only then did Robin realize how that sounded. 

“No, no! It’s totally not like that. These days, they’re actually happy to see me when I come home, proud even,” Robin told her with a shaky laugh. The very idea still felt surreal, nevermind the reality of walking through her front door and being embraced warmly by her mother. She might not ever get used to that. 

“Really? That’s great, Robin,” Nancy gushed. A longer glance this time, lingering earnestly and Robin deferred bashfully. 

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder, I suppose,” she mused, fingers drumming on the door armrest. 

“Mmm, yeah that is what they say,” Nancy mused right back and something magnetic drew their eyes together across the front seat. Nancy searched her like a dare, blue flashing bright in the passing streetlights. Robin’s brow rose as her breath choked to a slow trickle of oxygen. The veil between past and present thin as it was in their hometown, there was no mistaking the way Nancy held a knife to it, asking permission to tear. 

Clearing her throat, Robin dug around in her coat pocket, determined to not let this moment slip through her fingers. Fishing out a cassette, she waved it in the air. 

“I made you another one, by the way,” Robin said, voice thick with anticipation. “I didn’t want to give it to you in front of the boys because I didn’t want them to get jealous.” 

Nancy grimaced and realized, “Oh god, Steve would have been so jealous. He would have made that hound dog face, you know the one.” 

“I definitely do. He’d make a whole stink about how I’ve never sent him a mix tape in all the years I’ve known him,” Robin groused, with a scoff.  

“You haven’t?” Nancy wondered. 

“Nope, just you,” Robin informed her, throwing on a winning smile. 

Nancy quickly turned her head to really look at Robin this time, jaw hanging loosely as her attention jumped to the winding road and back again to the passenger seat. 

“I–well, put it in, then. I can’t wait to hear it,” she urged her. 

Robin’s ribs inflated proudly with the effect she seemed to have on Nancy, and quite tickled that her bluntness still could catch her off guard. Pulling the tape from its case, she obliged and fed it into the tape deck. 

Sanguine electric guitar filled the car as they approached the center of town. Pine garland had been from the lampposts lining main street, iced with snow from yesterday’s flurries and lit by a copper gleam from the vintage street lamps above. Not a soul around, the car cushioned by the holiday hush and roadside hills of snow bathed in blue by the cloudless night sky. Almost romantic, Robin thought, enough to make an impulsive decision with an old friend at least. She figured she could call her parents from Nancy’s house, she was here for two weeks after all. What was one night away. 

An indignant huff from Nancy cracked her nearly crystallized plan, and she whipped around to a face scowling with suspicion. 

“I see what this is, Buckley,” Nancy contended, throwing daggers at Robin out of the corner of her eye. “I give you a ride home to the other side of town and you’re trying to tell me you think I’m a shitty driver?” 

“What? What are you talking about?” Robin choked out, incredulously. 

“This song you just put on? There you go, way too fast. Don't slow down, you're gonna crash?” Nancy recited, rolling to a slow halt at a stop sign. With no one for miles, she kept her foot on the break and crossed her arms, turning expectantly towards Robin. 

Positively bewildered, Robin volleyed between the offending tape deck that kept playing the next verse and Nancy’s tight pout before blurting out a breathy laugh. She had to be joking. 

“You’re laughing at me, too?” Nancy sneered, apparently not. The prickle of regret began at the base of Robin’s neck.

“Yes! Come on, I told you they were just songs. Just cool songs I thought you might like,” Robin pleaded with her, another nervous laugh bubbling to the surface. 

“Oh, so now they’re just cool songs. Very convenient,” Nancy fired back, eyes narrowing as she nodded sarcastically. 

“I swear, I didn’t remember what the first song was when I put it on in your car. But, come on, you have to admit that’s kind of a funny coincidence,” Robin implored her, gesturing wildly at the stereo. 

“Coincidence?” Nancy parroted, less than convinced but Robin spotted it. Nancy’s tongue poke the inside of her cheek, quelling a smile that agreed with Robin. She had her now, more charmed than she was annoyed, and Robin would take it gladly. Putting her hands back on the wheel, Nancy sighed, “You’re an idiot, Robin Buckley.”  

“Sometimes!” Robin concurred with a chuckle, flopping back in her seat and plastering a clammy hand over her forehead. “But you are so paranoid.” 

With a guffaw, Nancy exclaimed, “I’m paranoid?” 

“Yeah, Nancy Wheeler, you can be a little paranoid. Has nobody ever told you that?” Robin doubled down. She crossed her own arms now defiantly, mimicking Nancy’s stance and giggling in amusement at herself. 

Nancy, on the other hand, fixed her cheeks with an aghast grin and got that dangerous glint in her eye. 

“Maybe I will crash this car, how about that?” she threatened. The engine audibly revved as they sped towards another bend into the encroaching woods and for a second, Robin wasn’t entirely sure she was joking. 

“Nancy! Jesus, okay, okay!” Robin cried out through a frisson of momentary fear. 

As Robin reached for the wheel, Nancy blindly pushed her face away with an open palm and scolded her for being so reckless when she had obviously been teasing her. The engine quieted to a safe purr along with the adrenaline that had been coursing through their veins from tempting fate, which left them both in hysterical stitches. Robin never heard what else she’d put on that tape to back up her claim. The cacophony of their infectious laughter and toothless bickering drowned out the speakers the rest of the drive to Robin’s house. 

– 

Between the whirlwind that was spring semester starting up and a particularly pivotal date with a girl Steve insisted was ‘the one’ yet again, the next time they didn’t manage to convene in Philadelphia until the middle of February. 

Brutal cold pummeled the train platform in Boston, keeping both Robin and Nancy zipped into their winter coats on the train, even fifteen minutes out from Boston. Robin’s arms floundered to reach her backpack as the down padding restricted her movements, but eventually she wrapped her half-frozen hand around the plastic case she sought. 

“Volume three of songs to keep Nancy up to date with the world, as promised,” Robin trumpeted, handing over the tape to a ruefully smiling Nancy. 

She wasted no time gathering her Walkman to fire up the tape, and the blown out drumkit of the first song blasted from her headphones. Robin had just begun to extract herself from her bulky puffer jacket when her newly freed arm got a light smack. 

“She Drives Me Crazy? Of course I know this song,” Nancy chided her. “I’m busy, not living under a rock.” 

“Okay, but you like it, don’t you? I’ve got your personal taste nailed down," Robin verbally patted herself on the back, wriggling out of the rest of her coat. Several graceless shoves and intricate folds later, she managed to get it stuffed and secured on the suitcase rack above.  

By the time Robin flopped back into her seat, Nancy already had her nose buried in a newspaper crossword and had ignored Robin’s question completely. Her face was drawn in focused thought and her frosted pink cheeks poked out from the top of her jacket as her head bopped along to the song. Cute. So goddamn cute. 

She really had intended it to be just a song when she burned it to the tape. Not every song could be about Nancy, of course. And yet, as Robin dug her two front teeth into her lip to compel herself to tear her eyes away from the plump curve of Nancy’s frown, she was quite certain that another weekend sleeping next to her might actually drive her crazy.

– 

The frigid cold front battering the east coast whittled their group activity options down to one; the movies. With two options, they left it up to a group vote. 

Steve and Robin cast theirs for the 8 o’clock showing of Hard to Kill over at a multiplex a short cab ride away. Their pitch was simply Kelly LeBrock, enough said. Jonathan did his best to sell them on the arthouse theater downtown that was playing Cinema Paradiso. He even tried to pique Robin’s interest with the nugget of information that Ennio Morricone did the score, which was tempting. 

“Who’s Ennio Macaroni?” Steve muttered in Robin’s ear as they stood over the movie listings in the local paper. 

“Those cowboy movies,” Robin muttered back. 

Steve smiled wide and crowed, “Hey! I liked those!” 

Robin gripped his somehow still solid bicep and growled, “Steve, focus. Kelly LeBrock? The black dress? Very, very short black dress?” 

Wonder took over Steve’s face, and he nodded resolutely. 

Two for Hard to Kill, only one for Cinema Paradiso. Nancy joined the multiplex vote and thankfully prevented a tiebreaker. With a shrug at Jonathan’s gutted groan, she claimed the prospect of subtitles for two hours swung her towards Hard to Kill. Although, Robin could have sworn she saw Nancy lick her lips as she described that dress to Steve. Never would she have pegged Kelly LeBrock as Nancy’s type, until she was struck with the memory of Mike and the boys renting Weird Science so many times she had to make up some bullshit lie that the system maxes out on a certain number times for each movie. It would have only taken one viewing, one scene in passing, really, for Kelly LeBrock to become anyone’s type. 

Jonathan’s sulking finally let up after they plied him with his second beer and got him talking about that movie he was working on. Weird as it was on paper, some of the scenes he described actually sounded pretty cool, funny even. Surprising that Jonathan Byers would become a comedy director of all things, and they sure ragged on him about that. Still, it was nice to see the perpetually dour member of their group light up like that and devote his hard earned time to doing something that made him so happy, so fulfilled. 

Nancy too, as much as her nose was to the grindstone at her new job. And Steve, with his influx of glowing praise from parents and another shot at the Indiana State Little League Championship in a few months. 

Robin balked when they got to her. She was far happier than she’d ever been in Hawkins, that was certain, but her dreams hadn’t come true like it had for her friends. Her penchant for languages sent her into a linguistics major, although it was becoming increasingly unclear what she would do with a degree like that. She wasn’t even sure what her dream was quite yet, and felt the tips of her ears burn at how she always managed to play the part of the late bloomer in every collection of people she found herself in. 

“I didn’t know you spoke so many languages,” Nancy said, a curious ring to her voice as they got changed for bed. Each facing the opposite wall, respectfully. Robin glimpsed over her shoulder at Nancy’s remark and managed to catch the hem of her oversized shirt catch on her hip, right before it slipped down mid-thigh. She righted her attention to her own shirt just in time for Nancy to turn and face her. 

“Uh, yeah, you know, learned a few in high school,” Robin yammered on, fiddling with the top button of her henley that was already buttoned. Strolling over to her suitcase at the foot of the bed to deposit her clothes. And also trying to expel the clear picture of Nancy’s lace-trimmed maroon underwear she now had in her head. Clenching her eyes shut, she listed, “French first, then Spanish and Italian. A little bit of Russian from, well, you know. And I’m doing German and Japanese in college. So, I don’t know, five and a quarter?” 

Opening one eye, she watched Nancy patter over to join her and plop down on the end of the bed. 

Face bright with amazement, Nancy lauded, “Wow. That’s really impressive.” 

Straightening up from bending over her suitcase, Robin decided with a pondering frown, “Yeah, I guess it is. Although, romance languages are easy to learn, once you know one of them.” 

“Romance languages?” Nancy queried, raising a brow. 

Robin flipped her suitcase shut and landed on the bed too, bare knees gently knocking Nancy’s as she bounced on the mattress. 

“The Latin ones. Spanish, French, and Italian are the ones I know,” Robin explained, holding Nancy completely rapt from her perch. Lifting both hands up, Robin answered the question she already knew was brewing, “Romance comes from the Latin word for speaking in Roman dialects. Not, like, you know, romantic.” 

Head falling back with understanding, Nancy said, “Ah, I see.” 

“But I guess people do think things sound more romantic in romance languages. I haven’t found that to be true myself, though, in practice,” Robin rambled on. Nancy’s head cocked at that. 

“In practice? Like, on girls?” she emphasized her, a smile already forming on her lips. 

“No! Not, like, I don’t know, in person. A poem, maybe–”

“A poem? My god, Robin, the girls at Smith must be falling at your feet!” Nancy exclaimed, gleefully. 

“Har har, very funny,” Robin deadpanned. She poignantly swung her feet around to leave this conversation, but felt strong hands encircle her wrists and yank her back in place. 

“I”m serious!” Nancy entreated, and the sincerity on her face was enough to keep Robin still. “Try me, then. I want to hear one.” 

Robin’s face twisted in disbelief, and she deflected, “I don’t have them memorized, Nance.” 

“Then say anything! Come on, I don’t remember much French,” Nancy pleaded, shaking Robin’s arms until her hands loosely rested in Nancy’s palms. Ducking her head in an attempt to entice her, Nancy cajoled her sweetly, “You could tell me anything and I’ll have no idea what you’re saying.” 

Robin rolled her eyes and hated how well that worked on her. 

“Fine,” she relented, and studied the fraying edge of the carpet as she strung together something, anything. The first thing that came to mind. She readjusted herself the best she could with Nancy still keeping her hands hostage, so that she faced forward, and cleared her throat. Putting on her best impression of a dashing French gentleman, Robin professed, “Bonsoir, ma belle. Que fais-tu ici toute seule? Tu es peut-être la plus belle femme que j'aie jamais vue.”

Her accent could still use some work, that much she could hear clearly. But Nancy emitted an incredulous laugh, eyes wrinkling as she did her best to parse the words she could remember. 

“Something about me being beautiful?” Nancy tried, and Robin worried her bottom lip. 

“More or less,” she confirmed, with a bashful shrug. 

“Yeah, my French never sounded quite like…that,” Nancy told her, shaking her head slowly and giving her a once over that made Robin shiver. Squeezing her hands encouragingly, Nancy egged her on, “Do another language.” 

A few blinks as she switched mental gears, and the Italian flowed from her lips like a Tuscan red. 

“Ti penso continuamente. Ti sogno tutte le notti. Mi chiedo se anche tu pensi a me.”

Robin watched Nancy’s smile fall open as her attentive blue eyes grew wider. The grip on her hands tightened, but Robin remained pliant, letting Nancy do whatever she pleased to them.

“Another?” Nancy asked, her voice a strangled whisper that barely reached Robin’s ears. She was closer now than when they’d started, canted forward and lips parted.  

Spanish was the only one left that she knew. Biting down on the tip of her tongue, she practically purred the words into the dwindling space between them. 

“Intenté seguir adelante, pero no puedo. Creo que siempre estaré enamorada…”

She noticed it now, the way Nancy was trained on her mouth as she spoke. Followed every roll of her tongue and gather of her lips. And when Robin trailed off, Nancy looked up at her, gaze brimming with hunger. Robin suddenly had a lot of spit to swallow. 

Gulping it down, choking a little, Robin finally muttered, “...de ti.”

Robin caught the tiniest twitch of the corner of Nancy’s mouth. 

“Sounds romantic to me,” Nancy uttered, and all Robin could do was watch the way her lips wrapped around each word. She understood the appeal, now. Somewhere, her body had the wherewithal to nod, but still Nancy called to her with a gentle whisper, “Robin?” 

Jumping back up to her glittering blue eyes, Robin only inhaled once before Nancy’s breath filled her lungs. She was kissing her back before her brain caught up with her mouth. The feel of Nancy’s lips, the taste of her twinged with traces of starchy beer, sent a rush of relief through every muscle in her body. She couldn’t get enough of her, sloppy and way too eager, tucking her fingers beneath the curls matted against the back of her neck. Closer, she had to feel her, clamoring onto her knees to urge Nancy back onto the bed with a firm press of her hand against her sternum.  

And Nancy fell back willingly, fisting the front of Robin’s shirt as soon as her head hit the comforter and taking her down too. Mouth falling open when Robin leaned down to kiss her, legs following suit so Robin’s hips settled between them. She’d nearly forgotten what this felt like, Nancy’s back arching up in search of more friction. What it sounded like, Nancy’s needy moans hitting the back of her throat. Determined fingers combing wildly through the strawberry blonde curtain of Robin’s hair. 

And yet, somewhere on her hand’s way up Nancy’s sleep shirt, the realization of where they were twisted her gut quite unpleasantly. 

“Wh-wait, Nance,” Robin panted, resting the bridge of her nose in the crook of Nancy’s shoulder. 

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” came Nancy’s nervous reply, and Robin extricated herself to sit up and alleviate the panic in her voice. 

“I’m fine. I just, um, don’t think we should do this right now,” she managed to get out between chasing oxygen. Nancy lifted herself onto crooked elbows with confusion written on her face. Robin elaborated, “The boys are like, you know, right across the hall. I just don’t love the idea of, well, them hearing… everything.” 

Not that Nancy made her hesitation any easier to stomach. Laying there with mussed hair and lips kissed a deep, glossy pink, that stupid shirt still half hiked up to her stomach. It almost made her throw caution to the wind and dive back in. Thankfully, Nancy rose up to level with Robin, nodding and expertly shaking the tangles from her hair with a steady hand. 

“No, you’re right. I just got carried away, I’m sorry–”

“Don’t apologize,” Robin cut her off, emphatically. “I…I really–”

“Me too,” Nancy finished for her, just barely catching her breath. 

With nothing else to do but wring their shirts in idle hands, Nancy moved to climb under the covers and Robin crawled up to turn off the lamp on her side in the bed. The darkness came as a welcome cover for whatever mix of shock and exhilaration still lingered on Robin’s face, empty fists curled into her chest. They both seemed to feel the same urge to lay impossibly stiff as they bid each other one last overly casual, chipper goodnight. 

–

As it so happened, Robin and Nancy arrived at the train station in Philly to find their train number on the tickerboard emblazoned with ‘DELAYED.’ A nasty nor’easter dropped a foot more snow than anticipated along the coast of New England. Their estimated arrival time was well after the last bus due west to Springfield, effectively stranding Robin in Boston for the night. 

Nancy offered her couch up, like it was obvious. Like it wasn’t setting Robin up for the biggest minefield of an evening after what happened last night. Everything had gone back to normal between them that morning, convivial over breakfast and casually quiet in the cab to the station. So pleasant and mature and Robin hated it. She needed something to go off of. Nancy nervously avoiding her or making conspiratorial eyes across the kitchen or shit, even a pissy Nancy would have been preferable. Robin had no idea where they stood with this happy smile sitting next to her for four hours. 

At least in Boston, she had Nancy’s apartment to obsess over, and that she did. Dropping her duffle in the doorway, she wandered around with her jaw open and hands grazing everything she could touch. It was a shoebox, really, on the second floor of three. Robin walked her fingers along the chipped enamel of the stove in the modest kitchen that filled in the left side. Two windowsills along the one wall of looming windows were glossed with decades of paint, rough against her hand as she leaned against them to look down at the narrow street below. The bathroom jutting out in the middle of the apartment thankfully created a nook in the far left corner where Nancy had stuffed her bed, her palm sinking into the plush comforter. Not pink anymore, Robin noted, but a rich maroon with thin navy stripes. More Nancy than Mrs. Wheeler for once. 

Spinning on her heel, Robin found Nancy lounging on the couch. A little too big for the space, and deep enough to fold her legs beneath herself comfortably while she observed the show of Robin familiarizing herself. 

“Is it to your liking?” Nancy asked, enjoying the way Robin straightened up once she realized she was being watched. 

“The couch is really nice. Nicer than a dorm mattress, that’s for sure,” Robin noticed, collapsing on it and bouncing in her seat to test it out. 

Fingers massaging her brow, Nancy said, “It was a move-in gift from my father. The couch is the most important piece of furniture in the house, he said, and spared no expense.” 

Snorting, Robin rolled her eyes and added, “Of course he did. But, since it is my bed tonight, I can’t disagree.” 

Nancy chuckled at that, and suggested they pop down to grab a pie before the local pizza place closed for the night. They made it just in time, and scarfed down three slices on the living room floor as they mocked the antics of the boys that weekend and laughed as cheese drooped down Nancy’s chin. Only after Nancy lifted the lid of the box to grab another slice did they realize they’d polished off the whole thing. At her host’s insistence, they followed it up with a beverage. The kitchen filled with rattling glass and shuffling cans as Nancy fished around in her cabinets for a bottle of anything. Right as Robin was about to go in after her, she returned to the living room victorious, hoisting a bottle of wine. 

“It’s kind of shitty, I think. It was a gift for my promotion since it didn’t come with a pay raise,” Nancy told her as the corkscrew squeaked with each spin of the bottle opener. Until it popped, and Nancy took a contemplative swig. Swallowing, she measured, “Tastes good enough for me.” 

Pizza box abandoned on the floor, Nancy chose to elevate them to the couch. Gulping down another mouthful of wine, she handed the bottle towards where Robin situated herself on the other end. 

“No wine glasses? You’re not as cosmopolitan as you would like people to believe, huh,” Robin teased her, but took the bottle and let the tepid wine fill her mouth. 

Laughing demurely, Nancy shrugged and offered, “I just thought it might be fun, you know, for old time’s sake?” 

The bottle suddenly felt heavy in her hand with recognition of a similar night all those years ago, as Nancy arched a brow at her. 

“That and I don’t actually own any,” Nancy admitted with a scrunch of her face. 

Robin chuckled as she passed the bottle back to her, shaking her head. She took in the gallery of photos hung up on the far wall, ending with a bookcase jammed with paperbacks. Behind the couch, a brick wall ran the length of the apartment and really augmented the amber glow of the sole floor lamp that lit the room. 

“Ted didn’t spring for a T.V. too?” Robin queried. 

“He told me to let him know if I wanted one, but I honestly am not home enough to watch T.V.,” Nancy replied, searching around the cramped room for where a set would even go. “We have one on at work pretty much all day in the newsroom, so honestly it’s nice to come home to a quiet house.” 

“Quiet? I see that boom box over there,” Robin called out, nodding at a modest black tape player atop the bookshelf. 

“Everyone listens to music,” Nancy informed her, coolly. Pursing her lips as a thought struck her, she strolled over to her where her jacket hung on a hook by the door and returned with this month’s mixtape. Robin made a pathetic whine of desperation, hand rising to cover her eyes as Nancy popped it in. Too late. She fiddled with the volume dial until waves of dreamy electric guitar floated from the twin speakers on either side. Quite pleased with herself, Nancy returned to her seat on the couch, arm lazily propped up against the back cushions. 

“Nancyyyy, this is for you to listen to…alone,” Robin groaned, and Nancy giggled around a mouthful of wine. 

“You’ve already heard it, so what’s the harm?” Nancy provoked her, with a saccharine smile. “What is this by the way?” 

Robin snatched the bottle from Nancy’s lap before answering with a sigh, “Heaven or Las Vegas by Cocteau Twins. The Cocteau Twins? I forget which one it is.” 

With a hum of acknowledgement, Nancy turned her head towards the stereo to catch the lyrics as they began. It only took a few lines for her to furrow her brow, and blink blankly at Robin, who had taken two healthy gulps of the wine in succession. 

“What are they saying?” Nancy asked her. 

Leaning forward, head bowed, Robin muttered, “I honestly don’t think anyone knows.” 

They fell into a spell of laughter at that, Nancy leaning her head on her propped up hand and staring across the couch at Robin. Hand tightening around the neck of the bottle, Robin lifted it to her lips as Nancy inhaled. 

“It’s nice living alone, but I didn’t realize how lonely it can be. When our train got delayed, I was secretly hoping you’d have to stay the night,” Nancy ruminated, punishing her bottom lip between her teeth at her admission. 

Robin held the bottle out, brow raised as she wondered aloud, “Really?” 

Nancy nodded, breathing a nervous laugh at her own honesty before taking a swig. 

“Yeah. I miss our sleepovers, like the ones back in Hawkins,” Nancy confessed, words landing softly atop the music. Pink dusted her cheeks too, spurred on by the flush of booze no doubt but Robin knew what this was. She’d done this dance before, still remembered all the steps. 

“I do too, especially your Mom’s breakfast in the morning,” Robin recalled, pulling another breathy laugh from Nancy. 

Fingers tracing the seam of the pillow, Nancy contemplated, “You know, I always lived in such a full house, so I thought I’d love this. But I just learned how much I hate being truly alone. Strange, isn’t it?” 

“I still have a roommate, so the idea of being truly alone sounds like a distant dream. It’s a downgrade for me, being an only child with my own room my whole life,” Robin told her. With a cock of her head, she held out her hand for a handshake and offered, “I’ll trade you?”

Nancy snickered, and smacked the cool glass of the bottle into her outstretched palm instead. Lifting it up to toast her, Robin let just a trickle of wine past her lips. 

“Well, it’s just us now, no roommates or Steve or Jonathan, if you wanted to, you know, pick up where we left off?” Nancy proposed, crooked smile taking root.

Yes, the steps were familiar to Robin, but something about her dance partner had definitely changed. Nancy had always been self assured, no doubt about that. And yet, there was that arched lean of her body against the couch cushions again, shoulders slanted comfortably, draped over the couch so easily and watching Robin intently. With the way her papery tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, Robin figured this was what they meant by a dry white wine. 

“Yeah,” Robin chirped, and gripped the neck of the bottle tightly in her hand to keep from wincing at her own eagerness. “I mean, if you want to.” 

Nancy’s eyes wandered now, down to where the bottle was strangled in Robin’s hold. 

Attention trained on it, she remarked, “I want to see if you learned any new moves from all the girls at Smith.” 

A strangled laugh forced its way up Robin’s throat, and brought with it a bit of much needed bravado. 

“You’re the one who probably has new moves, from all those broken hearts you left at Emerson,” Robin challenged, pointing the bottle at her. 

Lips pressed together, Nancy didn’t deny it. She did, however, extract the bottle from Robin’s grasp and lean forward to set it down on the coffee table where it landed with a soft plunk. There, arched forward over the middle of the couch, she appraised Robin from beneath her lashes, dragging her eyes from her bent knees up to her nose, and licked her lips at what she saw. If Robin still held the bottle, she surely would have shattered it in her fist. 

“Let’s find out, then,” Nancy suggested, well, decided more like it. With a beckon of her curled finger, Robin obeyed. 

In a mess of smacking lips and tongue and limbs, Robin tumbled forward atop Nancy on the couch. Desperate as they were, there was no rush to the stroke of Robin’s thumb across her cheek or the way Nancy sucked Robin’s bottom lip into her mouth. Hands scraping leisurely up the hot skin beneath Nancy’s sweater to meet the lace of her bra and Robin found the fabric delightfully thin. Nancy slid her own hands into Robin’s back pockets and Robin yielded as she pulled her hips flush, the tiniest bit of friction jolting up her spine even through the layer of denim. The cold metal of Nancy’s slim belt buckle branded Robin’s stomach where her shirt had ridden up and she sighed into Nancy’s neck at the not entirely unpleasant sensation. Like a chain reaction, it only made her kiss Nancy harder, press her deeper into the cushions. There would be trains to catch to work and buses to board tomorrow morning but that night, Robin had Nancy all to herself and nowhere else to be. 

She couldn’t remember if Nancy had murmured it or Robin had simply read her mind, but they eventually made the ten foot stumble over to Nancy’s bed. A trail of pants and sweaters piled up in their wake across the living room rug and Robin gained a bruise where her elbow whacked the side of the bookcase. But feeling the featherweight of Nancy’s body land atop her own stole all the air from her chest. Leg slotted between hers, bent and digging into the mattress to rock up against Robin and pull a moan out of her. Breath hot and heaving against Nancy’s skin as she rolled her hips to chase firm muscle. When Nancy slipped her hand between, employing her thigh as additional leverage to push deeper, dear god she had forgotten how long Nancy’s fingers were. Robin was probably the first person since the turn of the century to ever see stars in downtown Boston. 

Robin wouldn’t say either of them had displayed anything all that groundbreaking gleaned from their college escapades, despite how few other girls Robin herself had under her belt to compare it with. But the way Nancy moved, bucked her hips to a steady rhythm and threw her shoulders back to push her chest up into Robin’s palm. Like in the two years since, she had instead learned her own body, knew how it curved and bowed. Knew where to guide Robin’s hands or hold them in place, rewarding her with tightening legs around her waist and mewls poured into her mouth. The arrogant smile she wore told her Nancy also knew how it looked from where Robin hovered above it, lean muscle across her ribs undulating as she stretched around Robin’s fingers. Robin picked up the pace until she wiped that look off Nancy’s face, until her jaw hung loose as an obscene whine of Robin’s name bounced off the brick. 

There was no question about it, despite what the stereo had crooned earlier that night; Robin was definitely in heaven. 

–

A hoarse whisper in Robin’s ear drew her back to the waking world the following morning but she didn’t quite catch it. By the time her eyes cracked open in the lavender early winter light, she heard the front door shut. Her arms stretched with an ache that instantly recalled the night before, and Robin grinned at the lumpy plaster ceiling. 

With the place to herself, Robin wiggled into some pajamas and milled about. The aged planks of the wooden floors squeaked beneath her feet with every other step and the honking and shouting hustle of Boston’s North End had just begun to bustle outside the windows. She dragged her fingers across the spines of Nancy’s books crammed into the bookshelf. Mostly non-fiction but Robin snickered when she spotted a Grisham novel sandwiched between a Bobby Kennedy biography and Silence of the Lambs. Rifled through her kitchen cabinets to find nothing but granola bars, bags of chips, and peanut butter. A loaf of bread on the refrigerator shelf but no sign of jelly, which confounded Robin a bit. 

A few recognizable pastel tops from high school were shoved in the far corner of the one closet. Beneath the bed, Robin found a familiar shoebox laying dormant but just within easy reach. Other than that, all other remnants of 18 year old Nancy Wheeler were gone and yet, it felt inexplicably and unmistakably like Nance. A real, flesh and blood version of her perhaps, finally emerged from a floral wallpapered chrysalis in earth tones and two feet firmly on the ground. She considered the mismatched throw pillows on the couch and imagined Nancy with a new paycheck in the home goods section of Filene’s, proudly carrying those two over to the register. Her chest ached fondly at the thought as she laughed to herself. 

She hadn’t expected to hear keys jingling against the lock a mere twenty minutes later. Nancy kicked the snow off her boots and grinned widely at Robin standing in her living room. 

“Sorry I took so long. I had to go all the way to Modern to get the good stuff. Mike’s is such a tourist trap, don’t even bother. But they don’t shovel the sidewalks down here that well so I almost slipped twice,” Nancy informed her, a bit winded while unraveling her scarf from around her neck. Coat shed and coaxing Robin to join her in the kitchen, she gingerly set down a white box tied with a red and white striped string in a tidy bow. “I got us lobster tails, though. Made fresh this morning.” 

Robin pulled a face as she told her, “That’s nice of you but I don’t really eat shellfish.” 

Nancy lifted her head and hit Robin with a positively tickled stare. 

Plucking the string untied, Nancy lifted the cardboard lid and told her, “That’s fine because Modern is a pastry shop.” 

Robin peered over the edge of the box to see a bounty of technicolor confections piled up within. Realization hit her, and she chuckled along with Nancy at the absurdity that she had thought Nancy would get them seafood for breakfast. Nancy set a particularly large pastry in her hand, a triangle of rippling flaky layers all dusted with powdered sugar and cream bulging from one end. 

Hunger roared in her stomach, so Robin sank her teeth through the delicate layers. Everything melted into a buttery, creamy blend on her tongue and she hummed in sublime delight, eyes falling shut. Nancy nodded at her, mouth full of pastry and emitting a hum equally as euphoric. 

After gulping down her bite, she dropped a powdery peck on Robin’s cheek, professing in her ear, “Did I mention how much I missed you?” 

Robin looked the picture of flustered as Nancy darted off to dig some napkins out of the plastic bag. Cheek singed from Nancy’s lips, Robin was certain her entire face had turned as red as the damn crustacean itself. 

–

By March, Robin was nearly drowning in schoolwork, due to a fatal combination of taking German level 2 and environmental philosophy the same semester. German she was prepared to claw her way through but she’d thought the philosophy class would be reading Leaves of Grass or Walden and cleaning up parks. She was not prepared to debate whether the inherent value of all life was enough to justify humanity’s disproportionate consumption of natural resources or if the species needed to be culled to match the consumption of other sentient animal populations. On the side of the sentient animal populations, as was her luck of the draw. The argument hit a little too close to home, given her encounter with a psychic demon who also favored culling humanity in a not so philosophical sense. But she doubted that would fly with her professor as a reason to sit this one out. 

So sleep deprived, she slept through her alarm on Friday and had to book it across campus to the shuttle. The intermittent potholes along the turnpike knocked her awake every fifteen minutes or so, and her duffle had never felt heavier as she trudged across South Station. Even Nancy noticed her drained demeanor and offered up the window seat, which Robin sank into gladly. 

They’d barely emerged from beneath the tunnels of Boston before Robin’s eyelids began to droop. She couldn’t help it, with the rocking train car and the promise of six hours of stillness. Beside her, Between Something and Nothing by The Ocean Blue emanated softly from Nancy’s headphones off of Robin’s newest mixtape like a lullaby. Just before she drifted off, she swore she felt the gentle pull of her wool duffle coat. She cracked one eye and might have caught Nancy fiddling mindlessly with one of the wooden toggles between her fingers while she scribbled in a notebook, or maybe she just dreamt it. Either way, the reminder of Nancy’s presence soothed her into a dreamless sleep. 

And thank god she did, as around 2 AM later that night, or morning she supposed, the four of them somehow ended up out on the terrace. They’d built up enough of a drunken flush to stave off the chill, but still shifted from one foot to the other to keep warm without their jackets. She was halfway through a gulp of Heineken when the conversation turned from shriveled dicks in the cold to Steve making the connection that Nancy had all of them naked.  

“Is that weird for you? That you’ve seen all of us naked,” Steve lobbed her way, with a lame grin. “Well, except for Robin, of course.” 

The icy beer forced down her throat had nothing on the chill that ran down her spine as Nancy caught her out of the corner of her eye. Face cast in shadow, Robin couldn’t read a damn thing on it, but as Nancy’s mouth fell open, Robin held her breath. 

“Yeah, it is a little weird that I have seen all of you naked,” she answered, drawing a wobbly line in the air between the three of them with her bottle as she giggled at her own joke. 

Like dominoes, Steve swung around to stare at Robin, then Jonathan, wearing matching squints of confusion.

“Well, shit, Rob,” Steve uttered, hand pulling at the skin of his cheek as he dragged it down. 

Robin’s body had locked up entirely, but her eyes snapped over to Nancy for some guidance on how to proceed here. In unison, they followed her line of sight. Nancy’s smirk wrapped around the mouth of her beer as she tilted the rest of it into her mouth, and the boys’ disbelief erupted into questions of how and when and for how long. To which Nancy provided torturously vague answers satisfying neither of them. 

Happy to let her field all the questions, Robin leaned back until her shoulder dug into the iron railing that shed flakes of black paint. With every flail of a drunken arm and liquor-bold filthy joke, Nancy’s aloof smile remained. Shrugging off the demand that she rank the three of them, from an only half-serious Steve who got a scolding shoulder punch from Jonathan. She hardly even blushed, wearing no more than a dusting of pink as the cold nipped at the apples of her cheeks. The idea of being anything more than Nancy’s willing bedfellow had seemed so unfathomable to Robin, she had never considered how a conversation like this would go. She certainly never expected Nancy to be so blithe about it all, caving after much pestering and divulging proudly to the boys that yes, it was more than once. 

Amidst the ensuing hooting and hollering sure to wake up the neighbors, Nancy shot Robin a sly smile across the patio. Robin matched her, adding a wink and holding up her bottle for a silent toast. Only then did Nancy avert her eyes as splotches of bright berry red colored her cheeks. 

–

With Spring Break kicking off the day they returned to Boston, Robin decided she would take Nancy up on that offer to hang around, intentionally this time. 

Come Monday morning, Nancy had to rush off to work, of course, and the spring frost clouding the windowsill didn’t exactly tempt her to venture outside. Robin was more than happy to lounge around the toasty apartment all day, limbs spilling across Nancy’s couch and thumbing through Nancy’s books. 

She also took the time to thoroughly wash the train and travel sweat off of her body, vigorously scrubbing her nooks and crannies just in case. Not that she was expecting anything. They had merely collapsed into an exhausted heap the night before, and one night in Nancy’s bed did not a relationship make. And yet, the two of them had a pattern and well, Robin just wanted to put her best foot forward. Or hand, well, mouth potentially. She rinsed with mouthwash twice, just in case. 

A day of solitude and zero responsibility amounted to what was probably the first true vacation Robin had taken in a long while. Her bones weighed baked and heavy where the scald of the shower seeped in and she let relaxation overtake her completely. So much so that the bang of the front door closing startled her awake and her sudden jostle sent the open book on her chest tumbling onto the carpet. Windows gone dark and Nancy brandishing a grin alongside a bag of Chinese takeout, Robin must have napped well into the evening. Although, the lean muscles that eased into her yawning stretch were grateful for it. 

It wasn’t until later in the evening, as Nancy dug around in the takeout carton with chopsticks for the remaining kung pao chicken pieces, that her nerves finally perked up. 

“So, what kind of girls do you like?” Nancy had asked, nonchalant and with half a piece of chicken in her mouth. 

Robin paused her wrestle with a single noodle of lo mein between her own chopsticks.

“Wh-what?” 

Nancy looked up at the ceiling as she thought aloud, “I remember Vickie, a little, and I know what I look like. But what kind of girls do you go for, usually?” 

Robin blinked, masticating the sole noodle in her mouth until it was a paste before stuttering, “You know, pretty….girls.”  

Nancy deflated, chewing her chicken quite unamused. Robin snorted. 

“Alright, alright, let's see,” she played along, setting her utensil down so she could concentrate. “I mean I don’t know if I am actively choosing anyone. One day I’ll see a girl and it hits me just like bam, she’s all I think about. I have no control over it and it sure would be easier if I did.” 

Waving her chopsticks from side to side, Nancy instructed, “Okay, well name one of the girls to hit you like that.” 

Robin scrunched up her face, rifling through all the pretty faces that sprang to mind. 

“Michelle Pheiffer in Scarface, for sure,” she attempted to divert, but sheepishly bowed her head at Nancy’s chastising eyeroll. 

“That’s an obvious one, come on” Nancy dismissed her, jamming her chopsticks into whatever was left in the carton. Before she could protest, Nancy plucked Robin’s carton from her grip as well, setting both on the coffee table and out of reach. Legs folded, she turned to face Robin squarely and dictated, “How about this; for every real person you tell me, I’ll kiss you.” 

Robin licked her lips. 

“Fine,” she agreed. “Um, okay, do you remember Clarissa MacNamara?” 

Nancy squinted at her for a beat, before recalling, “That blonde girl on the swim team? I think so, yeah.” 

“Definitely her. She was on my bus route freshman year,” Robin recounted. “I’d never seen her before and one day she walked on the bus and bam. I couldn’t breathe around her for three weeks.” 

“For the best probably, since she likely reeked of chlorine,” Nancy said snidely. 

Robin snickered and tucked her legs underneath her, beckoned Nancy forward with a curled finger. A woman of her word, Nancy obliged, shuffling over and craning her neck to press a kiss to Robin’s lips. 

“I like this game,” Robin approved. Nancy just motioned for her to continue. “Okay, also a big one Junior year was Tammy Thompson.” 

“Tammy Thompson?” Nancy blurted out in disbelief. 

“Why does everyone always react like that?” Robin grumbled, throwing her hands up in frustration. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Nancy chuckled, hand coming over her mouth to quell the ridicule. “She was just so…” 

“Cute? Sweet? Nice?” Robin supplied, but Nancy grimaced. 

“Tacky.” 

“What? She was not!” exclaimed Robin, smacking her palm on her knee indignantly. 

Nancy dropped her chin, eyes narrowed at Robin as she asserted, “She wore those shiny jackets all the time, with the fringe? Robin, come on.”  

“She wanted to be a country singer, Nance,” Robin reasoned, and the ridiculousness of that statement delivered with such sincerity sent them both into a snickering fit. Robin clutched Nancy’s shoulder as her head fell forward atop it, feeling it shake against her brow with laughter. 

Coming back up for air, Nancy told her with split cheeks and that glint in her eye, “You’re so much cooler than Tammy Thompson.” 

“Apparently that’s not a high bar to clear,” Robin huffed, but let her eyes fall shut as Nancy leaned forward. 

Her parted mouth closed down on Robin’s bottom lip, opening once more to steal a second kiss this time. The room had gone so quiet, she only heard the wet smack of Nancy pulling back. At some point, her hand drifted to just beneath Nancy’s jaw, the distance restored between them sending it back into her own lap.

Fluffing her untidy chestnut waves, Nancy cleared her throat and egged her on, “Is that all?” 

Lips pressed together, Robin hesitated with this one. There was no way she could end the night with just two kisses, though, so she exhaled and got on with it. 

“There was a girl in my French Lit class, last year at Smith,” Robin began. Already, Nancy straightened her spine. “She wore this leather jacket every day, and I wanted to ask her for a pen or something so badly but I couldn’t work up the courage. She was so, so hot, and I wasn’t the only one staring at her.” 

“Last year, huh?” Nancy did her best to gossip, but Robin caught the corner of her mouth twitching. Jealous, transparently so. She considered ending the story there, accepting her prize, but the way those baby blues darkened made Robin’s stomach clench in a way she had to see through. 

“Yeah. It only lasted a month, though. One day, she asked to see my notes after class, brought me back to her dorm and everything. Although, I never got around to taking out my notebook. But after that, she never came back for round two, and I saw her out one night with this other girl Suki a week later. So that was the end of that,” Robin reported, tacking on a shrug at the end. 

Nancy swallowed thickly, but held her gaze steady and focused on Robin. 

“So…blondes,” she stated, resolutely.

Robin blinked and coughed, “What?” 

“The girls you go for. You’re into blondes,” Nancy spelled out for her. And when Robin opened her mouth to refute her, Nancy pointed a finger at her. “What color was that college girl’s hair?” 

Jaw snapping shut, Robin chuckled to herself at Nancy’s spot on deduction and muttered, “Like a strawberry…blonde.” 

Nancy pretended to be shocked. 

“What was her name?” Nancy ventured to ask, each word tight and strangled in her throat. A frisson jumped up the back of Robin’s neck and Robin fisted the fabric of her shorts. 

“Samantha.” 

Nancy pursed her lips, otherwise sitting still and poised like a loaded gun. It only took Robin cocking her head to the side with a knowing, closed mouth grin to spur her into motion. 

Hands latched onto the back of her neck as Nancy’s mouth pressed firm and hot against Robin’s lips. The second she parted her lips to suck in a breath, Nancy’s tongue slipped inside. Curling against the roof of her mouth as possessive nails dug into her skin. Kissing her hard and fast and blindly crawling into Robin’s lap, while Robin’s hands slid up the knitted hem of her sweater to land on her bare waist. The couch at her back steadied them both, thank god, because Robin’s head was spinning.

Gasping, Robin pulled back just enough to mumble against Nancy’s hanging jaw, “Jesus Nance, should I tell you about the barista on campus too?” 

A kiss to shut her up and teeth bit down punishingly on her bottom lip. The whine she emitted was downright embarrassing, but she felt Nancy’s mouth curve into a grin.  

“Bed,” she ordered. 

Nancy laid out beneath her, shirt long gone and Robin got to work leaving a smattering of open mouthed kisses across her collarbone and ribs. Butter soft skin against her lips and cheeks. She rose back up to kiss her again and Nancy held her in place where she hovered just above, hand cradling Robin’s jaw. 

“All of the girls I hooked up with had light brown hair, almost blonde, just like this,” Nancy imparted, twirling a lock of Robin’s curtain of dusty brown hair around her finger. Dark blue eyes in the darkened corner of the apartment looked up at her, pleading with her to understand. 

Still, Robin needed to hear it, so she murmured, “What is that supposed to mean?” 

Mirth flickered across Nancy’s features, but it was quickly displaced by something else, something starved. 

“I mean that I think you ruined me, Robin,” Nancy uttered. 

Breathing a laugh, Robin leaned into the hand on her cheek and rebuffed, “That’s a little dramatic.” 

Tilting her head to the side, Nancy purred, “What if I want you to?”  

Robin’s entire mouth went dry, taking in the words and the sight beneath her. Nancy waiting for her, chest heaving breathlessly and chin tilted up towards her, begging her closer. She only managed a nod before she dropped her hips, pressing her deep into the mattress and planting a groaning, messy kiss on her lips. 

Like a woman possessed, Robin was true to her word. Her arms coiled around Nancy’s waist, she pulled her in, sent her hips chasing Robin’s as her hands roamed freely all over her, everywhere but where Nancy wanted her most. Teeth pulling lavished skin between them, leaving blushing red stamps down her neck and pulling hissing moans from Nancy’s throat. Two fingers slipped easily inside of her and she moved them agonizingly slowly, Nancy sending her blunt nails raking down Robin’s back. Robin’s crooked, half-dazed grin marveled at the lipstick smeared across Nancy’s mouth and every whine for more, faster, now, that flowed out of it. Eventually, she heeded them. 

Shuffling down Nancy’s body, she hooked a hand under Nancy’s hips and took her in her mouth, more. Quick and sharp, she buried her fingers inside of her, over and over, faster. Nancy’s own eyes hooded and neck straining to look down her own cresting body, Robin held her gaze, burning, demanding, now.

Holding Robin between her legs with fistfulls of hair, Nancy choked out her name before she nearly screamed. 

Thank god for those brick walls.  

–

Tuesday swirled into view with the brush of Nancy’s lips on her cheek before she felt the mattress sink to her right. She was gone again before Robin fully joined the waking world. Work, of course, and Robin tried not to sulk about it. 

At dusk, they grabbed piping hot pizza for dinner, pepperoni for Nancy and veggie for Robin. She earned a scowl of distaste from Nancy as she chowed down on her slice laden with broccoli and mushroom and pepper. Hardly bothered, Robin informed Nancy that one of them was going to get gout by age thirty if they didn’t eat more vegetables and it sure wasn’t going to be her. Nancy just made sure to hum blissfully as she took a bite where her pizza drooped under the weight of the meat. 

Their wandering took them along the harbor where the skyline darkened against a sky of rosy pink and burning amber. They spent far too long with hands pressed to the cold glass of the tank outside the aquarium until one of the seals slapped it with a fin, laughing far too much for the grown adults they purported to be. And when the breeze ruffled Nancy’s choppy curls, the bones in Robin’s fingers locked up by the cold itched to guide her chin up for a kiss. 

But they still hadn’t talked about it, not said a single word about last night, so Robin dug her fist into her jacket pocket. 

Later that night, however, Robin stretched her legs over Nancy’s lap on the couch, occupying herself with a creased paperback while her host annotated a packet of something or other. A creeping hand slid higher and higher up the inseam of Robin’s jeans until she found herself with a plaster wall at her back and one bare leg hooked over Nancy’s shoulder. How she managed to stay upright was a miracle, and she damn near fainted when Nancy pulled back for air, on her knees and smirking up at her with a glossy chin.    

She supposed talking could wait until tomorrow, when Nancy’s mouth wasn’t otherwise occupied. 

–

A deck of cards entertained them on Wednesday night, stiff with neglect and underuse. Although it ended with Robin wrestling Nancy’s hand from her grip, who insisted she didn’t have any three’s and Robin should go fucking fish. She never did find out if Nancy lied or not, as the strewn cards were forgotten once Robin had straddled Nancy and pinned her wrists to the carpet. 

Brow arched, Nancy dug her front teeth into her bottom lip as Robin dragged her wrists together above her head. Nancy’s pulse raced against her palm and she could feel every fiber of the woolen carpet where it scraped against her knuckles. Dainty as they felt in her grip, she remembered how those curling, slender fingers could take out a field full of soldiers with one round of bullets. And yet, here they were, easily held down by only one of Robin’s hands, yielding to Robin’s hands. Her stomach clenched and pushed out a shuddering breath.  

“Don’t let go,” Nancy panted against her lips. 

Robin nodded, and kissed her furiously before she lost her nerve.  

–

The whole week carried on as if Robin had stumbled down another wormhole that sent her back to the summer of ‘87. Well, not exactly like that summer, but it certainly gave her a bout of deja vu. Whatever it was going on between them, it loitered on the edges, stayed swept in the corners and skulked in the shadows beneath the couch. But then again, they weren’t mired in despair and infidelity like they were that summer. Every day with just the two of them that spring break was light and airy and sweeter than the last. They were friends, by all accounts, with a friendly gap between them as they strolled along the sidewalk and exchanged friendly banter. But at night, once again Nancy was hers. Like clockwork, every evening ended with Robin tangled up in Nancy’s limbs and buried in her hair, her neck, and between her legs.  

Never was the pendulum swing quite as dizzying as her final night, when Nancy burst through the door a little earlier than usual and told Robin to put on her nice sweater. She treated Robin to a real dinner this time, at her favorite Italian place a few blocks down. After fielding Nancy’s unoriginal innuendos, linguini with clams became Robin’s new favorite food on the planet; the brine and lemon lighting up her tongue. Well, perhaps tying only with the tiramisu they agreed to split for dessert, dueling spoons clinking in the dish over who got the last bite. 

With all its pressed white table cloths and plush velvet seats, how could the evening not verge on romantic? Maybe when the stout, ruddy faced owner insisted they tell their mother that she raised two very polite sisters. But other than that, all Robin wanted to do all night was reach across the table and kiss Nancy, sweet and tender in the warm glow of the single, tealight on their table. Even as she hummed delightedly around a forkfull of pasta, smiling afterwards with parsley in her teeth. She especially wanted to kiss her then. 

Perhaps she actually could have, what with the way she’d been catching Nancy eying her. From over the rim of her wine glass across the table or out of the corner of her eye as she playfully bumped shoulders along the sidewalk. Soft and starry eyed, and even when caught, Nancy didn’t look away. It was Robin who balked first every time and feigned interest in the first thing she spotted just to sever the tension. 

What did she expect would happen? As dreamy of a week as it had been, she also got to see first hand that Nancy had a whole life here. Long hours and coworkers and bills, while Robin wasn’t even halfway done with a degree in nothing. She remembered how this went, the role she was cast to play here. 

 Or so she’d thought as she hugged Nancy in the grand train hall the next morning, patting her back with one arm. 

“See you next month!” she’d thrown out, with a salute. 

A smile crept up Nancy’s face as she stuttered, “Wh-what?” 

“The trip to Philly next month,” Robin clarified. Waving around them, she added, “Same time and place, pretty much, right?” 

Nancy’s smile slipped, and Robin’s own grin followed it down in confusion. 

“Oh, yeah. Right,” Nancy agreed, breathing a dry laugh. Her gaze slipped as well, and Robin knew that look. Off to the side in search of a way out of the conversation. 

“Nance–” 

Robin made to reach for her hand, but Nancy took a step back and out of reach. Hackles rising like a kicked dog. 

“Great! See you then!” she called out, picking up her pace as she walked backwards and pointed at Robin. Nancy never pointed. But before Robin could get another word across the crowd to her, she’d spun around and darted towards the doors. There she stood, dumbfounded as Nancy’s camel jacket mingled with the sea of peacoats and trenchcoats until she was merely watching a mass of blurry faces rushing past. 

She hadn’t the slightest idea how she had fucked up, but was absolutely certain that she had. Luckily, she had a two hour bus ride ahead of her to replay every second until it drove her certifiably insane. 

–

With a start, Robin shot upright. Her entire body went rigid, save for her hands scrambling around the blankets at her waist and eyes bulging, scanning the pitch black room for anything recognizable. A mattress creaked beneath her, in her uncle’s house. Philadelphia. Something had woken her, but she couldn’t remember what. 

A sharp gasp to her right. Nancy. 

Sure enough, the source of her startling wake up call was also sitting upright. She heard it before her eyes adjusted enough to see it; Nancy gulping down air. 

“Nance?” she croaked. 

“Sorry, I just…” Nancy whispered, cut off by a shaky inhale. “I’m okay. Just a bad dream.” 

“You don’t sound okay,” Robin deduced. Patting the covers, she eventually found Nancy’s hand smothering the fabric in her fist. 

Robin pushed through the stiff protest of her muscles to reach over the bedside table and switch on the lamp. Squinting until the buttery glow no longer felt like staring into the sun, Robin shuffled back over to her bedfellow and laid a palm atop Nancy’s iron grip. They both stared down at the contact, Robin’s thumb taking up a gentle, rhythmic brush against the back of Nancy’s hand. 

“Wanna tell me what happened?” Robin intoned, the lingering layer of sleep cracking her voice. 

Nancy’s breathing had calmed down a bit, but it hitched at that question. Her fingers pushed against the weight of Robin’s hand as they unfurled just a little bit. Eyes anchored on the motion and yet a thousand feet deep inside her own head. 

“We were back at the Creel house,” Nancy began, hesitant as if the words themselves would strangle her on their way up her throat. “You were there, Steve too. In the Upside Down, you remember.”

Pad of her thumb gliding easily across Nancy’s soft skin, Robin affirmed, “Can’t forget it no matter how hard I try.”  

Barely cracking a smile, Nancy swallowed and went on, “The vines had us on the walls, and you were…I couldn’t look away. He wouldn’t let me. I had to watch you…until he…” 

Nancy’s voice now reaching a frantic pitch, Robin butted in, “Hey, hey, it’s just a dream!”

She leaned closer as Nancy nodded rapidly, shaking a few tears loose but couldn’t get Nancy to look at her, pull her out of her head. All she could do was turn Nancy’s loose fist over and burrow into her fist until she had her hand splayed beneath her, palm to palm with Robin’s fingertips hanging over where she outgrew Nancy’s. 

“I get nightmares still, too,” Robin admitted. 

“Really?” Nancy piped up, warily eying Robin. She rewarded her attention with a nod and threaded their fingers together in a loose clasp.

“But we're not in the Creel House. And I’m here. I’m okay, see?” Robin assured her, splashing a warm grin across her face, very much alive. She let Nancy scan her and watched the anguish drain. One more squeeze of her hand for good measure. 

“Can…can I…” Nancy meekly asked, inching forward barely enough to notice. But Robin noticed. 

Rolling her eyes, she beckoned with open arms, “Get over here, Wheeler.” 

Robin corralled her into her arms and Nancy settled in the crook of her neck. A cautious hold at first, with Nancy curled into herself until Robin felt those arms unfurl to slither up her back and hook onto the top of her shoulders. 

Cheek resting on the crown of Nancy’s head, Robin mumbled, “Sometimes my nightmares are about you, too.” 

A nuzzle of Nancy’s nose against her sternum urged her to continue. 

“Most of the time they’re about the end of it all, when I stupidly suggested someone play bait and you of course jumped at the chance,” Robin recounted. “Sometimes it swallows you whole, other times we find your body in that ravine afterwards, sometimes you’re not even dead yet and I have to watch you…” 

The catch in her throat choked the end of her memory, and it stirred Nancy from her place against Robin’s chest. A deep frown was the only thing keeping the tears at bay, and it was clear how pathetic she looked given the pitiful look Nancy gave her. Almost nose to nose now since Robin wouldn’t loosen her hold on her. She needed to feel the grounding proof of Nancy’s flesh and blood just as much, as it turned out. 

Nancy’s mouth fell open, head tilted with soothing words on her tongue but Robin cut her off, insisting with eyes clenched shut, “I know it turned out okay, I know that. You’re here and I’m here and we’re fine! But it’s always the guilt, you know? I shouldn’t have said that, or I should have stopped you.” 

A sad smile parted Nancy’s cloudy expression and she said, “You actually think you can stop me from doing anything?” 

With a hollow snicker, Robin conceded, “Then I should have gone with you.” 

“I was the one with the machine gun,” Nancy pointed out, with pursed lips. “What would you have done?” 

Robin replied without thinking twice, “Stood between you and him. It. Whatever. Let him eat me first so you could have gotten away.” 

The mirth of the moment dimmed at the darkness of such a suggestion, Nancy’s smile faltering. 

“Robin…”

“I know, I know, sorry,” Robin muttered, with a shake of her head. She bemoaned through a wince, “I’m not good at this. I never know the right thing to say.” 

Nancy rolled her lips, not disagreeing. But she didn’t withdraw herself, either. They sat like that for a stretch of time that could have been a minute or an hour. The silence of a dormant city filled the dead air and Nancy’s thumb ran back and forth over the hem of Robin’s shirt, where it dangled over her lap. Eventually, a distant clatter shattered their pity party. 

It came from downstairs, there was no mistaking it. Hissing voices followed and Robin and Nancy only had to exchange a curious look before they both set off towards the stairs. They rounded the corner of the kitchen to catch Steve and Jonathan with their hands in a bag of chips. 

Come to find out, the boys had been plagued by nightmares too. Nothing some late night munchies can’t fix, Steve had joked, but Robin saw his rattling hand shake out his wild hair. Nancy must have noticed too, remembering it was one of Steve’s nervous tells, because she stepped forward and snatched the bag out of Jonathan’s hand. Before they could argue, she shared her own nightmare. Her voice wavered, but she scowled away any tears and in the stunned silence, dug her hand into the bag and shoved a handful of chips into her mouth. 

In the wee hours of the morning, they shared shaky accounts of their worst night terrors, long after they’d dredged the last of the chip bag. How they’d gotten more scarce as the years passed, but were never fully free of them. Always the threat of one waiting for them on the back of their eyelids.There in the dingy, dated kitchen, they could all laugh them off at least, send them scurrying into the shadows under the fridge and the kitchen sink. A comfort in knowing they were all fractured in the same way. And as much as Robin hated to admit it, a belly full of salty, greasy potato chips really did help just the bit more.

–

As the afternoon Sunday sun sank over the coastal towns of the eastern seaboard, Robin caught her for the fifth time that day. Nancy, staring at her from her train seat with fondness radiating off of her, enough to prickle Robin’s skin. 

“What?” Robin asked, accompanied by an incredulous laugh. 

Nancy did what she had done the other four times, shrugged but otherwise maintained her stare. A smirk curled gleefully like she knew just how infuriating it was. Robin rolled her eyes and returned to her book, once again. 

This time, however, she felt a set of fingers slide across her palm where it laid slack alongside her leg. They slotted in place and Robin’s fingers curled around Nancy’s hand instinctively, like it was second nature. One glance down just to make sure wasn’t imagining it, and there they were, clasped hands underneath the shared armrest. 

Nancy had gotten preoccupied by the window, allowing Robin to gaze unabashedly at her profile, tracing the outline of her fussy side bang and down the jut of her nose. All the while, she could hear A Little Respect by Erasure pumping out of those headphones, off of her newest mixtape. Andy Bell’s haunting voice taunted her with lyrics she knew by heart anyway. 

Oh baby, refrain from breaking my heart. I'm so in love with you, I’ll be forever blue… 

– 

With little pushback from her parents, Robin accepted a job in the admissions office at Smith for the summer. It paid like shit, but came with free room and board by way of allowing her to stay in her current dorm. Her sophomore roommate was long gone, so it amounted to a free studio apartment in the end, with every paltry dollar she didn’t spend on basic essentials going right into her pocket. 

Well, not for long. Nearly every weekend, she drained those pockets with trips to Boston at the behest of one Nancy Wheeler. Not that Robin put up much of a fight. 

For one, Smith College in summertime was lush and peaceful and picturesque of course, but also a ghost town. Boston in summertime, on the other hand, was at its peak. The flood of college students around every corner calmed to a manageable stream, opening up sidewalks and grassy areas on the Common. Nancy was dead set on taking full advantage of the reprieve and would whisk Robin off as soon as she dropped her duffle.

One afternoon took them across the river to the shady, verdant lawns of Harvard Yard, where Nancy put her doe eyes to work on the steps of the Harvard library. She managed to swindle her second target, a summer semester student who barely got a sentence out under Nancy’s attention, into taking them inside to see the Gutenberg Bible on display.

Another weekend, they loitered in the Sargent gallery of the Boston Public Library. Necks bent with the stone railing propping them up at their backs, they marveled at the soft features of the faces painted across each frieze and the shining, gilded halos of the angels. Robin took a particular liking to Astarte, the goddess of sensuality, and all the women cloaked beneath her azure veil. 

“I’m sticking with the pagans,” she asserted to Nancy, who snorted and spun around to point up at one of the lunettes marching along the top of the wall. Within it, a bright teal monster devoured piles of men in its toothy maw. 

“That’s supposed to be Hell, where they say you’ll go if you stick with the pagans,” Nancy warned her, voice laden with faux concern.  Robin squinted up at the beast, all muscular arms and humanoid body twisting around the hoards of doomed men. 

Frowning back at Nancy, she decided, “Vecna’s giant tree monster was way scarier than him, and I lived. So I’ll take my chances in Hell.” 

Nancy peered up at it herself and nodded slowly in agreement.

But for the most part, Robin whiled her summer weekends away doing not much of anything at all. Sure, she had taken to learning how to cook a few things in Nancy’s kitchen, making the most of both of their tight budgets. French toast could transform bread, milk, and eggs into a breakfast feast on those lazy mornings when they couldn’t be bothered to get dressed. A box of spaghetti and a can of tomatoes were a dollar at the corner store, and by the end of June, she’d managed to turn them into a decent sauce with some tips from Ernesto, the pizza guy downstairs. Toss in half an onion and two sprigs of basil and don’t chop either of them, he’d sternly instructed her, but take them out before you add the pasta. 

And she certainly picked up a few things between Nancy’s sheets as well. How much she liked rolling over in the dark and slotting her body against Nancy’s from behind, a spike of heat beneath the covers and softer than her sateen sheets. The way she’d snap Nancy’s hips back into her, feeling every sinew of her back writhe against her chest as she reached around to feel up her chest and slowly, painfully, inch further down. Also, how she quite enjoyed it when a drag of Nancy’s fingertips against her lips turned into fingers plunging into her slackened mouth. How much Nancy liked to do it while her other hand was held captive between Robin’s legs, and how instinctually Robin closed her lips around those fingers and sucked without Nancy saying a word. Most enlightening, however, was how much Nancy liked, or rather, demanded to look at her as she dangled on the edge of letting go. She’d redirect Robin’s gaze with a hand beneath her chin, hold her steady with a fistfull of hair, or even ask for it, beg for it. Needing Robin’s eyes to find hers. 

Robin’s lungs would always stall and she felt like she was floating somewhere above Nancy’s bed. Adrift in the starry, blue nebulas around the rims of Nancy’s blackened, blown out irises, Nancy’s hold her only tether back to earth. She tried not to think too hard about all that, whatever it meant. 

But her favorite days were spent flat on her back atop the warped wooden planks of the esplanade, feet dangling above the Charles River below and squinting up at the clouds. Nancy’s bare arm brushing across her own, now smattered with summer freckles, to point out one that looked like Steve, pompadour of bouncy hair and all. 

By mid-July, she’d forgotten what her life had been like before. Every weekend spent playing house with Nancy, basking in the freedoms of faux adulthood with none of the shackles. The haze of summer had left a glossy, gossamer sheen over everything and Robin naively hoped that if she didn’t touch it, maybe it would last forever. 

–

On a sweaty, Sunday night in August, Nancy casually dropped that her Mom was coming to Boston to visit her. Robin munched quite happily on a burrito from where she sat on Nancy’s rug, and swallowed a wad of tortilla before she spoke. 

“That’s cool. Are you excited to see her?” Robin asked, taking a sip from her Coke to wash it down. 

“Yeah, I think so. She’s very supportive of me leaving school,” Nancy replied, picking at a piece of tin foil hanging off of her burrito and not looking up as she spoke. Robin froze with her jaw nearly unhinged in preparation for another bite. Something was up. 

“So… that’s good, right?” Robin tested the waters before diving back into her carne asada. 

Nancy perked up, a tight lipped smile sent Robin’s way. 

“Yeah! Of course,” she agreed, unusually chipper. Peeling off a single strip of foil and tossing it onto the coffee table, Nancy added offhandedly, “She wants to grab dinner with us, by the way.” 

Robin frowned as best as she could around a mouthful of burrito. 

Before Robin could speak with her mouthful, Nancy quickly elaborated, “She said she wants to meet you.” 

That sent Robin recoiling even more, gulping down her bite and squinting at Nancy, crosslegged against the couch. Suddenly, she found her burrito very delicious, so it seemed, and she busied herself with chewing a hefty bite. 

“Meet me? I’ve definitely met your Mom before, haven’t I?” Robin queried, rifling through her memories for that meeting that definitely happened at some point. She’d thrown her a wave on her way down the stairs, accepted a plate of mouth watering breakfast from her before joining everyone at the table. That had to count, right? Etiquette was never Robin’s strong suit. 

Nancy just eyed Robin warily and brought her Coke can to her lips for a bubbly slurp. 

“Okay, well when is this dinner?” Robin asked. 

“Next Saturday, or Sunday if that works better for you,” Nancy proposed, licking the syrupy soda off her lips. “You’re here every weekend so I figured it wouldn’t be a huge deal.” 

Robin nodded slowly, as it really wasn’t a big deal. She had nowhere else to be, and Nancy knew that. 

“Okay,” Robin acquiesced. 

Nancy blinked for a beat before her cheeks split with a grin. 

“Okay?” she repeated, in disbelief. 

Robin chortled and reiterated, “Yeah, why not? I won’t turn down a free meal. I mean, I don’t know what we’re going to talk about.” 

Nancy snapped her mouth shut and returned to her half-eaten burrito, plucking off an errant flap of tortilla and popping it into her mouth. Robin lifted her own to her mouth for a small bite, eyes cataloging each of Nancy’s oddly distracted mannerisms. 

Humming around the bit of food in her mouth, Nancy swallowed and posited, “I don’t know, just catch up I guess?” 

Catch up. With the woman Robin had apparently never formally met. 

“Right,” Robin said, but figured whatever the hell was going on, she would find out on Saturday.

–

The nicest thing Robin owned was a slightly oversized, white button-down oxford, but that made her look kind of like a kid in her Dad’s clothes. Her sweaters were all too hot and itchy for the height of summer, and graphic tees felt a bit too casual. She did have a sweater vest, though, with the v-neck appropriately high up by her collarbone. Perhaps she could wear it over a plain white t-shirt, just to play it safe. 

Giving herself a once over in her dorm closet mirror, she tugged on the black belt holding her slim jeans and smoothed out the cotton knit. If she wasn’t mistaken, she actually looked pretty good. 

Nancy confirmed that when Robin walked out into the living area, looking up from her watch to stare agog at her. Robin snickered and did a girlish twirl on her way across the rug. Nancy’s eyes raked ever so slowly from her shoes up to her toothy grin, and Robin felt it ripple up her skin as if it were Nancy’s hands themselves. Cheeks peachy pink, Robin knew Nancy wished they were, but unfortunately they had a reservation to catch. 

“I was as shocked as you are that I cleaned up so nice,” Robin joked, grabbing her wallet from the catchall on the kitchen counter and slipping it into her back pocket. Brushing past Nancy, where she stood frozen and tracking Robin’s every move, Robin paused at the door and put on that suggestive, raspy voice Nancy liked so much to ask, “You coming?” 

Eyes bulging and positively tongue-tied, Nancy expelled a shaky laugh. She mumbled something about her Mom waiting for them before rushing out the door, not bothering to check if Robin was behind her. Thankfully, Robin had her own set of keys to lock the door Nancy had forgotten in her flight. She twisted the lock shut with a shake of her head. 

Nancy had clearly sprung for a more upscale joint that night, both to impress her mother and treat her and Robin to a nice meal on Ted’s dime, Robin figured. She let Nancy take the lead on ordering the food, which came in seemingly endless waves of bowls of bountiful salads and platters of thinly sliced meats and various balls swimming in sauces and coiled mountains of pastas snowcapped with cheese. All to stuff her face with while Karen politely, patiently, and intently grilled Robin on every aspect of her life. 

 How are you liking school? What is your major? Do you plan on minoring in anything? What do you plan on doing with it? Are you part of any clubs? Sports? Do you still play the French horn? Do you have a part time job? Do you still work at the radio? Have you always lived in Hawkins? What do your parents do? Do you have any siblings? Cousins? Are you close with your Uncle in Philly? What side of the family is he on? How’s Steve and do you both keep in touch? How often do you make it back to Hawkins? Would you like the last piece of garlic bread before Nancy eats it all? 

Taking the opportunity, Robin snatched a slice of bread off the offered plate and took an unwieldy chunk out of it with her teeth. She had fielded each one in stride, with Karen finding her answers genuinely interesting and her snappy jokes charming. But my god, she was starting to feel faint, having hardly had time to take a bite of the food. Karen rightly deduced that she’d be chewing for a while, and redirected her inquisition at her daughter. 

“Will you be staying here for Thanksgiving again, Nancy?” she asked, collecting a few leaves of lettuce onto her fork. 

Shrugging, Nancy chewed on half an arancini before responding, “I’m not sure yet. It’s hard to tell this far in advance if there will be a lot of work or not.” 

“Well, that’s alright, sweetheart,” Karen placated her. “I was looking at going on a family cruise before the winter sets in. Well just Holly. Michael insisted on going backpacking in Iceland of all places for his Thanksgiving break, with that redhead girl. What was her name? Lucas’ girlfriend. Mary? Maddie?” 

“Max,” Nancy supplied, sinking her fork into the tender meat. “That sounds great, Mom, and don’t worry about me. You and Dad deserve a vacation.” 

Robin caught Karen’s hand faltering for just a second, the tomato slipping from her fork and rolling onto her plate. 

“Actually, your father isn’t coming either, um,” Karen said, clearing her throat despite her fork still full of salad. “I was thinking of inviting Joyce.” 

Robin’s jaw creaked to a halt, globs of garlic and butter sticking to her teeth. Nancy carried on helping herself to a piece of veal scallopini and Robin had half a mind to kick her beneath the table. 

“Sounds great, Mom. Say hello to Joyce for me,” Nancy tossed out, blithely. 

Blissfully ignorant as Nancy was, it seemed to be the reaction Karen was looking for. Swinging her attention back to Robin, she bore a pleased smile. 

“Sorry for all the questions. I suppose Ted is supposed to do this kind of thing, but you’re a girl so I just thought…” Karen rambled, catching herself. With a hand landing on Robin’s, she tried again, “Whenever you’re back in Hawkins, feel free to stop by and say hello. Consider yourself part of the family, now.” 

Robin just nodded instinctually, staring blankly back at Karen’s kind eyes and vaguely registering a light pat of her hand before it retreated. The sentiment took a minute to sink into Robin’s cheese addled brain. But when it did, she stared straight across the table at Nancy. All she got in return was a meek smile over the rim of her water glass, and Robin picked up where Nancy had left off, keeping her mouth as stuffed with pasta as she could until Karen called for the check. 

– 

Robin managed to keep up a chipper facade until the click of the apartment door lock, which was an all time record on her part. Questions and demands and indignations swirled around in her mind as they kicked off their shoes, but Nancy punctured the silence first. 

“So, that went really well, right?” Nancy piped up.

Robin slowly spun her body around, socks sliding across the hardwood, lips pressed together. She wasn’t even sure what to ask yet, and Nancy’s hands happily clasped beneath her chin sure didn’t clear anything up. Her brow bent in confusion and she sucked in a breath through her nose. 

“Exaclty what went well, Nance? I think I’m missing something here,” Robin prompted her, a nervous laugh rattling her lungs. 

Nancy took a step forward. 

“You know, my Mom meeting you, officially, and liking you…during the whole five course dinner we just sat through?” Nancy elaborated, hands gesturing towards what was apparently obvious. 

“Yeah, so just remind me again why she asked to meet me, all of a sudden? I’ve been your friend for, like four years now and have slept in your house and eaten pancakes at her table,” Robin expounded, growing a bit more frantic than she wanted to. Nancy took another step. 

“I just talk about you a lot these days, I guess,” she offered up as a hesitant answer. Both of them were beating around the bush and it was making Robin quite dizzy. 

“Nancy, she thinks there’s something going on between us, like I’m your girlfriend or something,” Robin finally said plainly, gripping the damn bush by its trunk and ripping it up out of the ground.   

And Nancy just stared at her, blinking slowly as she scanned Robin’s face for something. Eyes narrowing with every passing second that she didn’t find it. 

Arms flopping uselessly to her sides, Robin carried on confronting her, “Is there? Am I? Because that would be news to me.” 

Nancy spat out a dry, thorny laugh and the tall, pre-war ceiling echoed it back.

“Are you serious right now?” she snapped. “What the fuck do you think we’ve been doing for the past few months?” 

“We’ve been doing the same shit we did last time!” Robin cried, gesturing wildly to the bed and the couch. “Clearly things haven't changed for you, but they have changed for me. I was doing great, you know. I was trying to date other girls and figure out what I was going to do with my future. I was building a good life for myself, kind of a healthy one for once. I can’t play this game with you again, okay? I can’t get dragged backwards.” 

Nancy recoiled, arms crossing in front of her and she took a step back. 

“Well, sorry that butted into your perfect life,” Nancy spat. “I had no idea how happy you were without me.”

“Oh, come on, Nancy,” Robin sighed, dragging a hand down the front of her face and pressing hard against the tip of her nose.

“You come on!” Nancy hollered. 

Robin wanted to take another swipe at her but the hurt turning her features to stone was not an act. Before she could say anything, Nancy had another mouthful for her. 

“It was shitty the way I treated you, I know that, of course I do,” Nancy denounced, somberly. “That's why I’ve been waiting for you to say something. Not that stupid thing I told you to say all those years ago, but just, I don’t know, anything about what you wanted from me. I was trying to be patient with you, I figured it was only fair. My mistake.” 

Robin felt like she’d been kicked in the ribs, lungs seizing. Nancy’s fury only roared like a fanned flame. 

“Because of course, you have that whole school full of all those girls, girls like you. I’m just the small town girl you hooked up with in High School, right? An ego boost for you before you fuck half of the lesbians in Massechusetts,” Nancy bitterly reasoned, advancing on Robin like she dared her to prove her wrong. Blue hardened to grey steel as it drilled into her, glassy and flinching as her embarrassment seeped through the cracks, but ruthless all the same. 

Swallowing the sawdust coating her mouth, Robin attempted to say, “Nance, that’s not what I meant–”

“Isn’t it? Don’t worry, I get it. I’m part of your past but not your future,” Nancy concluded, with a frown. “Maybe you should go, then, before I drag you any further backwards.” 

“Nancy!” Robin called out, but she’d already cast her gaze off to the side towards the kitchen. 

“You can still catch the last bus out of Boston,” she mumbled, crushing Robin’s chest like the blow of a hammer. “It leaves in an hour.” 

She didn’t have a choice, really. Nancy stood in the kitchen, silent and bent inward in a way Robin knew to be impenetrable. There her bag was by the front door still, only just arrived hours ago. Her boots crept across the floor, every soft footfall another intrusion where she was no longer welcome. Once her feet hit the concrete, every step she took and every bump along the turnpike and every beat of every song that played through her headphones echoed the same thought. 

Shit, shit, shit. 

– 

Given the grace of two months without having to see Robin’s face, she was hoping Nancy had cooled off a bit. Staggering through the doors of South Station, she spotted Nancy dead center, foot tapping on the marble floor and waving Robin over. Not once did Nancy strike up conversation, ask her how her bus ride was, how the new semester is going. They piled into the train car along with the other passengers in silence. Robin did garner a thank you and no, that’s fine from her when she lifted Nancy’s bag up on the rack and offered the aisle seat. Another when Robin returned to their seat with coffees as usual. Polite smiles and cordial niceties, but nothing more. She would have preferred Nancy screamed at her if it meant that Nancy would at least talk to her. Forget cooled off, Nancy was downright cold. 

In one last attempt to chip away at the wall of ice, Robin fished another tape out of her jacket pocket. She tapped Nancy’s shoulder with it, and for a split second felt her heart flutter with a shred of hope that it would come off as a peace offering of sorts. That her set jaw would melt into a reluctant smile, that she had not yet grown immune to Robin’s charms. One glance down at the plastic case, and what she got instead was Nancy’s face sharpened into a glare. 

She took the tape. Only to shove it into her bag, alarmingly rough, but she did take it. That had to count for half a point. 

She didn’t listen to it, though, and Robin was certain of that. Without anyone to talk to, Robin had more time than usual to kill, what with the additional leg of their journey this time where they had to switch trains in New York to head out east. Jonathan had pestered his Mom who pestered Hopper, knowing that the Chief always had a soft spot for his mother. Swearing to Hopper that they would stay sober enough to not burn it down, he managed to finagle a beach house for the weekend. Well, beach-adjacent. Hop was still a small town Indiana cop, after all. Robin quickly burned through the one tape she brought and couldn’t manage to summon any words in the English language to mind as she stared at her the pages of her of crossword puzzle book. So, naturally, she surreptitiously watched Nancy out of the corner of her eye for five hours. 

The grit of the salt air hit Robin as soon as she stepped onto the platform. What little platform there was, as it was the end of the line and the LIRR decided it warranted nothing more than a slab of concrete between the tracks. She welcomed the breeze, the autumn chill waking her up after the sedentary journey as she plodded along the sidewalk behind Nancy towards an enthusiastically waving Steve. Hardly necessary, as they were two out of a handful of passengers who disembarked, and his was the only car in the parking lot. 

Elbow draped out of the passenger window of Steve’s aging Beamer, Robin let the coastal town wash over her, let the brine fill her lungs and the wind rustling the brittle leaves muffle Steve and Nancy’s conversation. The Montauk sky blushed pink and periwinkle as the sun sank behind them and the road ahead curved and cut through pine bushes and bramble. Flat and endless like everything else as far as Robin could see, like someone had smoothed over the landscape with a level palm, and they’d simply drive off the edge of the world if they didn’t stop. Something to test out if this weekend all went to shit, at least.

Jonathan wasn’t kidding when he’d said it wasn’t much. Crunching gravel under the tires announcing their arrival, they pulled into a short drive carved down an unadorned, grassy patch of a lawn. The house couldn’t have been much bigger than the cabin in Indiana Hopper had left behind, save for a slim upper level only half the size of the floor below it. The patchy gray cedar shingles were a nice coastal touch, though, as was an asymmetrical roof that sloped down one side in such an angle that gave it the shape of a tipped over slice of cake. Complete with sugar white icing trim around all the doors and windows. 

“It’ll be a tight squeeze compared to Robin’s uncle’s place, but we can make it work,” Steve considered, hands on his hips as he noticed Robin gawking at the place. Pointing a finger down the road, he added, “And the beach is literally right there.” 

Sure enough, the asphalt actually did drop off the edge of the earth. Robin could just glimpse a strip of churning navy blue beyond the dunes. Out of habit, she instantly turned to grin at Nancy. A habit Nancy clearly shared as she did the same, smiling excitedly at her. At least until she cleared her throat and hurried off inside, calling dibs on the bathroom. 

Left alone on the driveway in the fading daylight, Steve tossed her a quizzical look. She sent him one right back that made it clear she was not in the mood, and he snapped his mouth shut with an obedient nod. 

 – 

The mouth watering aroma of a home cooked meal lured them all to the table for another one of Jonathan’s increasingly impressive dinners. Greek chicken on skewers that he delegated Steve to cook on the grill called souvlaki, according to the Greek girl from Queens he went on two dates with before she slept with his roommate. Painful as it was for the guy, they all got to enjoy the spoils of charred, herby chicken and oven warmed pita and cucumber and tomato salad mixed with cubes of salty feta. The round wooden table could barely hold the spread, bracketed on one side by a built-in breakfast nook and crowded with rickety, mismatched chairs around the rest. They polished it off at a startling rate anyway, leaving nothing but a stack of plates scraped clean in the center. 

The post-feast lethargy scattered them around the house for the evening. Jonathan savored a blunt outside, Steve got to work on the dishes, and Robin trudged upstairs to change out of her stifling travel clothes. Robin and Nancy had been generously gifted with the larger of the only two bedrooms, also the one with a large bed since they were so used to sharing. Something to be dealt with later when both of them were too tired to make a big deal out of it hopefully. The other room had a pair of twin beds up against either wall, with pastel pink furniture and seafoam green paint splashed across the wood paneled walls. Robin snorted at the idea of the boys settling in for bed beneath the pair of matching girlish plaid bedspreads. Their room was clearly Hopper’s, brutish in all its dark wood and hunter green rug and sparsely populated surfaces. Only a single postcard tucked into the mirror, a jolly Wish You Were Here stamped across the lush, rocky terrain of Iceland oddly enough. 

Jumping the last two steps, Robin landed back downstairs and only had to crane her neck around the corner into the den to be one head short for the deck of cards in her hand. Gut clenching, she knew it was crazy to think Nancy had simply bailed. After all, she’d just spotted her bag in the corner of their room and she bothered to travel all the way out here. The evening had been civil so far, from what Robin could ascertain, but she couldn’t always trust her own memory of that sort of thing. She couldn’t still be that pissed off, right? Unable to stomach the night sleeping beside Robin?  

“Hey uh, where’s Nance?” Robin squeaked, to just Steve at the sink. 

He flipped the towel over his shoulder and stacked the dry dish inside the cabinet as he recalled, “Said she was going down to the beach. I can go grab her if you want to start playing.” 

The beach, of course, duh. She blinked back the surge of panic and let the deep sigh of relief puff out her cheeks on its way out. Steve carried on with a large bowl, the sponge squeaking against the glass as he attacked a stubborn spot.  

“Nah, that’s okay. I got it,” Robin assured him. She snagged his sweatshirt from where he’d left it draped over the back of a chair and tugged it over her head as the screen door snapped back in place behind her. The panic might have vacated her mind, but with each drag of her sneakers along the empty road, regret gladly moved in. She knew well and good that she was the last person Nancy wanted to fetch her from a clear attempt at some alone time, and yet she was nearing the end of the tar, feet marching ever forward on her suicide mission. Maybe she’d just call her name down the beach, a quick wave in the dark and head back once Nancy stood up, maintaining the distance she so desired. 

With the rubber toes of her Converse bending over the lip of the pavement’s end, Nancy was easy to spot. There was no one else, but also the strip of sand between the dunes and the sea was thinner than Robin expected. Narrow enough that she could spot the cord of Nancy’s headphones against her white t-shirt, dyed blue in the half-moon light. So much for keeping her distance. 

A brisk sea breeze caught her as soon as she stepped out from the shelter of the dunes, reminding her why it was considered the off-season in these parts. She lumbered along to try and buy her scrambled mind a bit of time to think of what to do, not that the unsteady sand would have allowed her to rush if she’d wanted to. A tap on the back felt like it risked spooking Nancy, and shouting felt rude. A few paces away, Nancy slowly looked over her shoulder, unsurprised by her presence and Robin felt quite stupid. As if she could sneak up on Nancy fucking Wheeler of all people, under the cover of breaking waves or not. 

Robin halted and waited for instruction. However, Nancy gave her nothing of the sort, didn’t offer an opening, take out her headphones, or even linger on her for long. Her chest pushed a sigh through her nose before she returned her attention to the sea. Nothing left to do but take the last few steps over to Nancy’s left side, like walking the plank. It wasn’t until her ass hit the sand that she heard the clashing synths of The Promise by When In Rome over the crashing waves. From her tape. 

Nancy spied the shock on Robin’s face and rolled her lips into a thin line, pulling one headphone out of her left ear. 

“This is a good one,” Nancy said, genuine, melodic, human again. “The lyrics are… specific.” 

Robin emitted a jittery laugh, and ran a hand through her tousled hair before admitting, “Yeah, that one is pretty on the nose I guess.” 

Nancy hummed, and Robin dug the toe of her sneaker into the sand. Apology forming behind her teeth, she turned to unleash it. 

“It’s okay,” Nancy placated her. She worried her lip before musing bitterly, “Clearly everything from this summer meant more to me than it did to you. You moved on from how you felt back in Hawkins and it’s fine. Only fair I get a taste of my own medicine.” 

“You’re wrong about that, like, dead wrong,” Robin rebuked with a chuckle at the absurdity that she could ever move on from her, that anyone could. Her own best friend still chased the ghost of Nancy in every woman in Indiana. 

“You don’t have to be nice, Robin, I’m a big girl. It’s just a song, I know that,” Nancy stated, clipped and diplomatic. 

“Jesus, Nancy, it was never just a song, not a single one of them,” Robin snapped, head thrown back as the agony of honesty made her muscles seize up. Or maybe it was the cold setting in and Steve’s sweatshirt was not nearly warm enough. With a gruff sigh, Robin swung her head back around to look Nancy squarely in the eye and confess, “You were right about that, okay? Every damn time, even when I didn’t realize it. You didn’t imagine it. They were all for you, and you know it.” 

The corner of Nancy’s mouth curled upwards just a bit, enough to know Robin had given her the best gift. Conceding that Nancy was right. Robin shook her head and smiled to herself, running her tongue between her gums and bottom lip. 

“Yeah, I do,” Nancy granted her, hitting the pause button of her Walkman finally. Nothing but the white noise of the surf and the breeze whipping the seagrass behind them. They watched the foamy tide gently roll towards them, clear and gentle only to retreat back out into the tumbling current, over and over, stuck in its eternal, primordial loop. Fitting, Robin thought.  

“You’re not a small town girl,” Robin said sternly, pinning Nancy with her attention to make sure it stuck. The moonlight caught on that flash of blue as always. “Never were. Hawkins could barely contain you. It ripped apart at the seams trying to keep you in.” 

“I’m pretty sure that was the demon from an alternate dimension that did that,” Nancy corrected her. 

“Ehh, I’m not so sure,” Robin maintained, with a cheeky half-cocked grin. It pulled a quiet laugh out of Nancy, one that petered out into a pensive hum as she fiddled idly with the buttons of her Walkman.

“I should have been more clear about, you know, everything,” Nancy extended, softly.

“You couldn’t have been more clear,” Robin snickered. “On the couch… in the shower…” 

Giggling as she pursed her lips, Nancy scolded her, “I’m trying to give you an apology, here.” 

“Keep it,” Robin waved her off, staring out into the endless sea bleeding into the indigo horizon, no longer able to make out the line where one ends and the other begins. God, since when did she see metaphors for her and Nancy everywhere? One too many poetry classes at a liberal arts school, perhaps. Kicking at some of the sand instead, she postulated, “We never seem to figure out the right words to say anyway. I think that’s why I give you all this music all the time.” 

“Is that so? And I thought you were just being romantic,” Nancy teased her, knocking her bent knee against Robin’s.   

Robin hung her head pitifully, feeling the panic climb up her throat again as she said, “That was part of it. But I don’t really see myself getting better at the words part, if I’m being honest. Are you sure you want that?”

Nancy’s smile broadened, her gaze unwavering. 

“We’ll probably also keep fighting like this, and I don’t think I’ll get better about being a stubborn hot head,” Nancy informed her, tilting her head like a challenge. “Are you sure you want that?” 

With a considering frown, Robin remarked, “I think your temper is kind of hot, when it’s not directed at me, of course.” 

Twinkling laughter burst from Nancy’s lips and she lightly smacked Robin’s shoulder with the back of her hand. 

“Well, maybe it’s a little hot when it’s directed at me,” Robin admitted, and Nancy’s brow shot up. 

“Oh yeah?” she chortled. 

Robin just shrugged, but Nancy grabbed her by the collar. By the time she pulled Robin in, her eyes were already closed. Plush lips against hers and diving into Nancy’s warm mouth, she hardly minded when Nancy’s hands combed through hair and got tangled up in one of her sword earrings. One taste and she couldn’t think of anything else, want for anything else but her tongue in Nancy’s mouth and her lip sucked between Robin’s teeth. Nancy’s fist stretched the collar of the sweatshirt, and Robin was one second from throwing her leg over Nancy’s hip just to get closer, feel her, all of her. Had Nancy not drawn back for air, Robin probably would have drowned. 

Breath landing hot and sticky across Robin’s nose, Nancy huffed, “Okay, then.” 

Robin nuzzled the tip of her nose against Nancy’s and felt her cheek blush beneath her palm. 

“Okay, then,” Robin repeated, with a wet, toothy grin. 

They dropped hands once they reached the threshold of the front porch, moths fluttering around the lamplight on the post. Still, Steve eyed the two of them suspiciously until Nancy darted up the stairs to change. Robin pulled the deck of cards from her pocket and shook them, as if her hair wasn’t a tangled mess and her cheeks pinched pink. 

“Suits you,” Steve stated, a fond smile on his sentimental mug. 

“I know, you already told me that. My hair hasn’t changed in months,” Robin scoffed. 

Steve shook his head and reiterated, “No, Nancy suits you.” 

Robin froze, waiting for the grimace on his face at the betrayal, but it never came. Just his hands on his hips and realization dawning on his face. Robin just wheezed a bashful laugh before pulling at the dishtowel still slung over Steve’s shoulder. 

“Shut up,” she mumbled, whacking his arm with it as she lovingly shoved past him towards the kitchen table. 

–

Some time the following afternoon, the boys went out parasailing or paddleboarding or whatever. Which left Robin alone with Nancy, who just wanted to read on the lumpy couch. In silence. Robin only lasted about twenty minutes before she resorted to entertaining herself. Plucking one of the few books off of Hopper’s shelf, she plopped down on the opposite end of the couch from Nancy. Back against the armrest, just like Nancy. Knees bent to support the book, also just like Nancy. She had no idea what was on the pages opened in her lap, vaguely recalled a duck being on the cover maybe. Her eyes were instead surveying Nancy so that with every page turn, Robin followed suit. Cleared her throat, tucked a non-existent curl behind her ear. It wasn’t particularly bothersome, silent for the most part, as Nancy requested, but got under her skin regardless. Just like Robin knew it would. 

“What are you doing?” Nancy accused her, sharply, not quite looking up from her book. 

“Reading,” Robin answered, nonchalantly. 

Birds chirped outside the window they’d cracked to welcome a breeze. An old, clattering car lumbered by. The papery flutter of a page turned in Nancy’s lap, followed immediately by the sound echoed in Robin’s. 

“Robin.” 

“Nancy.” 

“Will you stop?” Nancy ordered with an exasperated chuckle. 

“Stop what?” Robin puzzled, taunting her now more than feigning innocence. 

The revelry in Nancy’s eyes shifted to a glare and she held it as she flipped her book shut. Robin did the same, smiling sweetly. Slammed her book into the couch beside her, as did Robin. 

Abruptly shifting upright onto her knees, Nancy hissed, “Robin, I swear to God…” 

Mirroring her, nose to nose now, Robin husked, “You’ll what?” 

Robin watched the skin pulled taught as Nancy’s jaw set, her berry stained lips gathered and her shoulders sloped as she leaned her elbow against the back of the couch. And her eyes, oh god, they were narrowed and pointed and the sharpest blue. Robin licked her lips before she could stop herself, and Nancy’s attention darted down like a hawk. 

Scanning her face on the way back up, Nancy was stricken with newfound amazement, murmuring, “You were serious, huh?” 

No use in denying it now, as Robin felt the heat prickling the back of her neck and her nails digging into the fraying tweed of the couch cushions. Nevermind her thighs clenching where they pressed together. All she could do was shrug a shoulder, not wanting to risk the certain crack in her voice that would harpoon the moment. It was enough for Nancy, though, eyes alight as she swung her legs over the side of the sofa. 

“Come on, we probably have less than an hour until they come back,” Nancy said, stepping around the couch and pausing in the archway between the living room and the hall. She beckoned to Robin impatiently, snapping, “Hello? Do you need me to spell it out for you?”

In a flurry, Robin scrambled to her feet and over to where Nancy stood. Cheeks split in a grin, tongue pressed against a canine, Nancy gave her a once over and Robin exhaled the last of her oxygen. 

Hand around Robin’s wrist, and they were no sooner up the stairs and all over each other. Robin made every effort to bait her, and Nancy didn’t hold back. Unbuttoning her own shirt diabolically slow as Nancy laid on the bed watching, only to nip up at her You’re going to regret this. Her hand making a beeline down Nancy’s bare chest and skimming over her belly button, cutting a sharp right over to her thigh at the last minute, only to hear through gritted teeth I’m going to kill you if you don’t touch me. Dodging her lips and sending her to Robin’s cheek and neck if only for Nancy to growl If you do that one more time…if only to feel Nancy’s teeth close punishingly around the flesh of her neck, just hard enough to leave a mark, to make her keen. 

Nancy clenched and fluttered around Robin’s three fingers with every movement, every slow slip in and out. So wound up, Robin knew that for a fact. By now, she knew that it felt like this, sounded like this as Nancy’s breath came in crackling whines. Robin practically drooled over the sight, dipping her head down to put something in her mouth to satiate it when a firm hand gripped her chin. 

Holding Robin with her thumb and forefinger digging into her jaw, Nancy gritted, “Don’t you dare look away now.” 

Robin squeaked out something so pathetic, she would be embarrassed if her restless hips didn’t bear down on Nancy’s thigh. The contact jolted both of them, making Nancy’s eyes go wide. Within seconds and the push of her fingers back inside her, she watched Nancy’s brow gather and her chest heave out a gasp and a tremble overtake her as she fell apart, limbs spilling out over the sheets and choked moans painting the whitewashed walls. That, along with Nancy’s hold on her chin still firm, sent Robin and her rolling hips into sweet oblivion shortly after. 

Collapsed beside her, Robin’s jellied bones laid useless as she flopped her head to the side to see if Nancy felt the same. She found her equally spent, but her flushed face stricken with astonishment from what they’d just done, what she’d just enjoyed. Nothing quite that scandalous or bold, but definitely new for Nancy. A grin grew across her face, and a chuckle snuck past her lips. Evolving into a wild, messy fit of laughter that infected Robin too until they were both writhing in hysterics, clutching each other until every muscle ached and all she could do was cradle Nancy’s fist in her limp hand.

–

Late spring brought them all back to Hawkins again. The pitched roof pavilion at Franke Park was bedecked with every fresh bloom of the season, sheltering long tables anchored by vases of pink tulips. Green vines wrapped around the poles, bearing plump roses and white dahlias and sprigs of Queen Anne’s lace. Fit for a wedding, or the closest thing Indiana would allow. 

Nevertheless, Karen Wheeler and Joyce Byers were still the picture of marital bliss on a makeshift platform. Karen in an immaculately cut white suit with gold buttons and Joyce in a white shirt dress made of silk that danced around her ankles in the evening breeze. The commitment ceremony was brief, lacking in pomp and circumstance, but the two were effusive with love for each other and gratitude for everyone in attendance. Robin was lucky to be seated in the front row, next to a beaming Nancy on one side while Mike sat on the other and used up all the tissues in her pocket. Although, at some point, it hit her that she’d never seen two women get married before, and only when Nancy squeezed her hand did she realize her cheeks were wet. Damnit, Mike. 

Thankfully, they wrapped it up before the real waterworks began and moved straight into food and festivities. An endless potluck spread with Mrs. Henderson’s scalloped potatoes and the biggest roast chicken Mrs. Sinclair had ever made, according to her husband. He himself provided a large casserole dish of something called Cranberry Delight, the only thing his wife ever lets him make. Robin could see why, as that was the first dessert to be cleaned out, nary a graham cracker crumb to spare. Pies and chili and garlic bread, all from women named Susan and Mary and Donna, Karen’s book club no doubt. No chance that anyone at this event would go hungry. 

Nudging a mop of shoulder length red hair in front of the desserts, whose plate was piled high with three of every option on the table, Robin teased, “Try eating some vegetables once and a while, Max. They won’t kill you!”

The girl jerked back abruptly and spun to face Robin, with blinking brown eyes and a mouthful of cookie. Not Max. 

“Oh, I-I’m sorry, I thought…” Robin began, but that face was so familiar. Smiling at her, curiously and with eyebrows raised expectantly beneath copper bangs. But before Robin could push through the fog of recognition, the real Max appeared at her side, gripping the girl’s wrist urgently. 

“Come on! We got seats over here!” she exclaimed, flashing wide eyes at Robin like a warning. Warning for what? Robin’s dazed gaze followed the two girls as they skipped over to the end of a table and just beyond it, spotted Nancy. At the corner of the pavilion, she stood alone with arms wrapped around herself. 

“Needed some air?” Robin piped up, coming to join Nancy on the edge of the concrete. 

“We’re in a park,” Nancy deadpanned, and they both chortled. 

Nancy didn’t budge other than that, staring out at the pond at the bottom of the hill, a dark splat on the grassy lawn. Hand to her mouth, thumbnail gnawed between her teeth. And then a sniffle. 

“Nance–” 

“I’m sorry, I’m fine,” Nancy insisted, but the sob she stumbled over betrayed her. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Robin cooed, bringing a hand up to her back. Nancy curled into her neck, sniffling through a few more cries before a shaky exhale. Holding up her plate, Robin offered, “Brownie for your sorrows?” 

Nancy choked on a drowned laugh and wiped furiously at her eyes. Another perfect moment for Robin to have tissues in her suit pocket, damnit Mike. 

“I really am fine. I’m just so happy for my Mom, you know? And Joyce?” Nancy explained, voice wobbling but gaining ground as Robin’s hand moved back and forth. 

“Of course,” Robin affirmed. 

“I just kept thinking about me and…and you,” Nancy went on, wringing her hands. “It never felt like this with anyone else until you. And I just kept thinking about how I wasted so much time. I’m so sorry…” 

“Hey, stop that,” Robin chastised her, sweetly. Her free hand moved up to cup Nancy’s cheek and swipe away a lingering teardrop. “We’re not as old as them, okay? We’re not old at all! And all that other stuff, I mean who cares. We’re here now.” 

Nancy nodded, eyes glassy where they stood on the edge of the light, where it blurred into the night. Her hand tilting Nancy’s cheek upwards, she guided her forward into a tender kiss. 

“I am not old!” 

Ripping apart, they squinted into the dark to find the effervescent glow of Joyce’s wedding dress trudging up the hill on her way back from the bathrooms, no doubt. A tight smile on her face, she shook her head as she brushed right past them and back into the pavilion. 

Robin could feel her face turn as red as the tulips on the table, spouting apologies at her back. Nancy was no help at all, cheeks split as she reveled in Robin’s embarrassment. A fine price to pay to see the sorrow wiped from that face. But when Nancy reached for a brownie off of her plate, Robin held it out of reach. Made her chase her for it, back through the dance floor where Robin passed it off to Will who promptly shoved the whole chocolatey square into his mouth. 

As if one little brother hadn’t been torture enough, Nancy bemoaned. 

– 

 Setting down the picture frame gently, Robin bunched up the dust rag in her hand and stepped back to admire her work. A sparkling clean mantle, packed with gleaming picture frames and flanked by two dust-free bookshelves jammed with paper spines and stacks of magazines. 

Four years wasn’t all that long, but it brought a junior archivist job for Robin at City Hall. Along with another promotion at work for Nancy, deputy editor now, which Nancy insisted was fancier than it sounded and hardly a pay jump. Still, it was enough to scrape together a downpayment on a two bedroom in the suburbs of Boston, one of those Cape Cod style cottages with dormers and an honest-to-god white picket fence. And a mantle, over a real fireplace.

Not all that dissimilar from where she started, if she thought about it. Which she never really had before until she stood alone in her living room, looking out the window and over the unruly bushes at the occupants of their sleepy street. The nosey neighbors she knew were peeking through their curtains two doors down. The zip of kids flying by on bikes. One trailing behind, a gangly girl with chopped strawberry blonde hair and a navy striped shirt. 

The cold grip of regret wrapped around her throat for a moment. That she’d fallen into the same ditch. Another insidious town had trapped her and she would be slowly smothered by the very place she swore to escape. Hawkins had been leeching the life out of her long before a little girl let a monster out of a hell gate. 

But then Nancy came bounding through the front door, breathless as she slowed to a stop right before sullying the rug with her sneakers. Bright eyed and wearing Robin’s dark green plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up. 

“Just had to pick up a few things,” she announced, holding up a brown paper bag bulging with groceries. Shoulders going slack, Robin was overcome with the swell of warmth she always felt whenever Nancy walked into a room. 

Every sleepy suburb in America might be exactly the same, but Robin was promptly reminded how it was her that had changed. Bloomed, wings spread and husk shed. Her hair was longer, posture prouder, disposition sunnier than the sixteen year old girl in the polyester sailor suit. The kind of person that could be happy in a place like this. How could she not be, with Nancy smiling excitedly at her like that on the threshold of their living room. 

“You okay?” Nancy asked, that smile faltering as Robin stood there with a faraway look in her eye. 

“Yeah! Yes, sorry, just thinking,” Robin told her, tossing the rag between her hands. “Thinking that Steve and Lucy are showing up tomorrow morning and we have to figure out how this pull-out couch works.” 

“Oh right, I totally forgot about the couch,” Nancy said, shifting the weight of the bag on her hip. “Be right back.” 

With Nancy as the muscle, she pulled up on the designated loop while Robin pushed down on the part that was supposed to pop up. Not nearly as easy as the salesman in the store had demonstrated, but with enough grunting and colorful curses, they managed to get it in the shape of a bed. 

Wiping at the sweat coating her brow, Robin caught her breath and wondered aloud, “What did you get from the store?” 

“Just some stuff to make cookies,” Nancy answered, collapsing onto the bare mattress and creating a symphony of creaking springs and squeaky hinges. “Holly always liked that kind of thing when she was younger, so I figured Lucy would too.” 

Robin joined her, head bouncing against the mattress as she noticed, “You’re weirdly good with kids, you know that?” 

Humming, Nancy agreed, “Never on purpose, but yeah. Mike’s friends always wanted me to hang out with them.” 

That tendril of regret slithered up her spine again, plucking out the memory of her own mother. A woman who should have never had a kid, Robin was proof of that. 

Her throat constricted as she ventured to ask, “We still don’t want kids, though, right?”  

“God, no!” Nancy exclaimed, followed by a bark of a laugh. 

Robin looked at her, cheek grazing against the rough fabric as she stipulated, “Promise me?” 

Nancy’s head lolled to meet her, placid and earnest as she vowed, “I promise you I don’t want kids. Never have and never will. Lucy is great but I very much enjoy sending her back home with Steve every time.”  

Robin groaned and remarked, “God, I really do love her but how is it that she takes after me of all people?”

“Some sort of karmic punishment for Steve, I guess,” Nancy decided, and they enjoyed a giggle at his expense. Until Nancy licked her lips and added, “You know, my favorite thing about us is that we can’t have kids.” 

Robin knew that look, knew the intention of Nancy’s hand sliding across the mattress to collect Robin’s shirt in her grip. 

“Yeah?” she played along, watching Nancy adopt a wicked grin. 

“Mmhmm, because then I don’t have to hold back,” she explained in that raspy whisper, pulling Robin into an open-mouthed kiss. Heady and escalating quickly, Nancy unbuttoning her shirt as she panted in Robin’s mouth. 

“Wait, wait, not here,” Robin breathed, untangling herself from Nancy while she still could. 

Surveying the surface they laid on as if seeing it for the first time, Nancy begrudgingly pushed herself to stand up and off the future bed of their friend and his child. 

“You’re right,” she huffed, and held her hand out to heave Robin up onto her feet. Brushing a sweaty tuft of Robin’s bangs aside, she declared, “You need a shower, though. And so do I.” 

Eyebrow raised, Robin let Nancy lead her up the stairs. They’d spend far too long in the shower, nearly using up all the hot water, but worth it to hear every sound Nancy made amplified by the tiled walls. Dinner would be a simple bowl of pasta with a mountain of white, tangy cheese, and full of starch and sauce they would retire to the couch. They would get a head start on the box of Oreos, flipping through the channels until they landed on something they both could agree on. Nancy’s hair falling through her combing fingers in the dancing blue glow of the T.V. 

Just another Friday night.