like i can \/ nancy wheeler

vi. sweet dreams

"some of them want to abuse you."
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

IT WAS PRETTY LATE WHEN THE TEENS ARRIVED AT A MOTEL. It was the closest one that they could find, however Colby still didn't like the look of it. There were people muttering and hanging around outside of it, smoking bright cigarettes and staring at the car that had approached them.

"Let's go," sighed Jonathan as he got out of the car. Colby followed him, pulling the straps of his backpack tighter around his shoulders. He didn't know why he was carrying it around with him— neither Nancy nor Jonathan had extra clothes with them.

When Colby began gawking at the smokers standing in front of the building, Nancy pulled on his hand so he'd follow them inside. He sent her an apologetic look, grimacing.

"You know, it's not that weird to smoke, right?" she mumbled, furrowing her brows together.

"It's not," he agreed, pushing the door open for them, "but it's not healthy, either."

The woman at the front desk was occupied, doing a crossword puzzle. She was smoking a cigarette, too, and Colby fought the urge to hold his breath. Ever since he'd heard about Laurie-

Nancy tapped the bell awkwardly, but the woman still didn't turn towards them. Finally, the girl spoke, "We'd like a... uh, a room, please."

Finally, the woman acknowledged them. "We got those. You want a single," she turned towards the trio, eyeing the two boys beside her, "or a double?"

Colby's eyes widened at Jonathan and Nancy, although Jonathan was quick to speak up, "A double."

The woman began drinking out of a large soda before reaching under the desk and handing them a key in the driest manner humanly possible. Colby took it, trying to get to the room before the other two. While he definitely wasn't sharing a bed with Nancy, the idea of sharing a bed with Jonathan Byers was just as strange and made his face heat up a little.

"Slow down!" called out Jonathan, smiling a little. "We're not racing here!"

"I need to brush my teeth!" returned Colby, turning around and walking backwards with a small grin. "Hygiene!"

He opened the door to the room, looking around. It was just as small as he'd expected it to be, and the floor looked genuinely cleaner than the beds. Colby had slept on floors before— Jayson's floor when Laurie had locked him out of his own bedroom. It was like living in an apartment, and she was the abusive landlord with all the power in the world. Often times, when she'd lock him out of the house, he'd climb up to his bedroom window and sit, looking up at the moon. It intrigued him very much, and when he was thirteen, he'd squint and try to find the man hiding in it that his step-mother had told him about. Bedtime stories. He missed them.