••••• "Don't don't you want me? / You know I can't believe it when you say that you don't need me" •••••
"This might be the stupidest thing I've ever gotten myself involved in, but I'm in."
In which Steve Harrington and Kimberly Henderson go from be...
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Robin ungracefully stumbled out of the car, tripping in her heels. "I can't breathe in this thing and I'm itchy. I'm itching all over," she complained.
"It's not all about comfort, okay?" Nancy said in an annoyed tone.
"We're academics," Kim reminded her, straightening her blazer.
"Who are evidently coming straight from Easter brunch," Robin continued to grumble. "Also, this bra that you gave me is really pinching my boobs."
Nancy was getting so sick of this. "Okay, could you just let me do the talking? If that's even possible?"
"It's not only possible, it's inevitable," Robin groaned, pulling at her collar. "Because shortly, I'll be dead from strangulation."
After being led to the director's office and making introductions, he took a look at their fake transcripts.
"3.9 gpas. Both of you," Dr. Hatch nodded approvingly. "Impressive."
Nancy politely smiled. "And this is a recommendation from Professor Brantley," she handed him another piece of forged paper.
"Yeah, I know Larry. Quite well, actually. Eh, you know what they say: 'those who can't do, teach.'"
The girls laughed politely, hoping he wouldn't ask them any questions about their professor.
Nancy thought quickly. "Uh, yes. Yes, that's actually why we're here. I mean, we can only learn so much in a classroom."
"Mmmh," he nodded. "And I'm sympathetic to your struggle, truly. But there is a protocol to visiting a patient like Victor. You have to put in a request and then you have to undergo a screening process, at which point the board will make a decision." He pushed the files back towards them. "I can see you're disappointed. But I'm more than happy to give you a tour of our facilities. Perhaps you can even speak to some patients in our low-security wing."
"And we'd love that," Nancy smiled sweetly, but she looked at Kimmy for help.
"It's just that, um, our thesis is due next month," Kim lied, attempting to look sheepish
"And you're out of time. Whose fault is that?" he asked harshly.
"Ours," Nancy said, apologetically. "Absolutely. And I do apologize–"
"Don't apologize, Ruth," Robin interrupted. Kim and Nancy shared a panicked look. "Screw that. The fact of the matter is, we did put in a request months ago and were denied. And then we reapplied and were denied again. And coming here was our last-ditch effort to save our thesis. And I really, I can't breathe in this thing!" she said, continuing to pull at her collar.
"Uh, well, Rose, maybe you'd like to go outside and get some air," Kim said pointedly.
"Maybe I should, Rebecca," Robin said, dramatically standing up. "Because I'm starting to think this whole thing is a colossal mistake. I'm breaking out in a rash. My boobs hurt. And I'll tell you the truth, Anthony," she turned back to the director. "Can I call you Anthony? These aren't actually my clothes. I borrowed them because I wanted you to take us seriously. Because nobody takes girls seriously in this field. They just don't. We don't look the part or whatever. But can I tell you a story? 1978, I was at summer camp. And my counselor Drew told me and everyone in Cabin C the true story of the Victor Creel Massacre. And little Petey McHew – you know Petery, right?" she asked Nancy and Kim.
