𝐔𝐍𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃. ˢᵗᵉᵛᵉ ʰᵃʳʳⁱⁿᵍᵗᵒⁿ ²

011

▬ 011. 𝑖 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒.

    "𝐒𝐎, 𝐀𝐌 𝐈 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐀𝐂𝐓 like a real university student?" Robin exhaled, as she paced on the eggshell carpet of Nancy's bedroom. "I mean, like, a full-blown, deeply intellectual university student? Are we going all out here?"

    Lori watched as she paced, eyes traveling back and forth with the pattern of her legs, as she, herself, sat atop the bed. It was early in the morning, evident in the soft morning sun rays slipping through Nancy's baby-pink curtains, and the house was quiet. The others had been asleep, or at least waking up when the two girls migrated upstairs to flesh out the plan, and Lori had been third to join. Originally, she thought she'd hang out in the basement, wait for Dustin to wake up, but she hadn't anticipated how stuffy it would get all alone, with four sleeping bodies below her on the ground once Nancy and Robin left. She also hadn't foreseen the absolute fight or flight reaction she got, the second Steve shuffled under his sleeping bag. So, she fled the basement without alerting anybody else that she was going upstairs.

     It was better in Nancy's room, anyways. She'd never been in Nancy's bedroom before, let alone any teenage girl's bedroom other than Helena. But Helena and Nancy Wheeler had very, very contrasting styles. And so did Lori. She already knew what a girl like Nancy Wheeler would have as a bedroom, but nevertheless she couldn't help but revelate in a smidge of awe when she stepped in. Partly because she'd been so used to the band posters, hapharzard drawers, shoes on the ground, rugs and records of her own room— that pink pastels, endless frills, cute wallpaper and little lamps sort of shocked her. A little bit. But it was nice, it was cozy, and it certainly wasn't the basement. She had a jewelry box sitting atop the dresser, and Lori just knew it had one of those spinning ballerinas with one of those god awful jewelry box tunes. But she smiled at the thought of Nancy's little earrings and necklaces.

    Because of that, Lori now sat on the edge of the made bed, twirling the diamond ring around her finger. She was staring down at it, lost in thought. Thank God Steve hadn't noticed the ring on her finger last night.

Steve.

Last night.

After he'd gone back in, Lori sat alone on the back step for a while, trying to register what the fuck had just happened. She sat with the blanket around her shoulders and stared up at the stars for longer than she probably should have, letting the wind and minutes pass her by. She thought about Steve. It was hard not to, as she sat in the scent of his cologne that should've faded long ago. She repeated his words over and over, the sound of his voice, the familiarity of their conversation... it was almost monumental. She hadn't seen him since December, but even then things had been off. They hadn't even kissed. And right after that visit, he stopped calling. She hadn't seen him since that weird family dinner, and she hadn't spoken to him at all since New Years.

But last night, they sat together outside, in the dark, just like they used to. And it all felt so natural. If it weren't for the paralyzing ache in her chest and the thumping sadness of her heart, she could've guessed that nothing went wrong between them. That their conversation was just another one of their late-night talks— that, just maybe, they were back in Autumn of 1984, curious and confused in the midst of interdimesional havoc. But at the same time, she didn't know what was going on between them anyway, so what good was it to pretend like the rift didn't exist? The question burned at her throat and begged to scratch free. She'd almost asked him last night, why he stopped calling, but the mood in the air was already thick enough from her return and she didn't really feel like arguing under that starry sky. She was also so, so tired. She'd fallen asleep the second her head hit that lumpy pillow.