Chapter Text
In February, she can't take it anymore, and she writes to Robin.
It's sleeting heavily by the time Robin's car pulls into the visitor lot, and Nancy pretends she hasn't spent the last hour fighting the urge to freeze to death in the parking lot just to watch her arrive.
She's reminded of winter break as she takes Robin’s duffel bag and bustles them both into the warmth of her dorm building, speaking directions in hushed whispers that echo off the white painted-brick halls. As they're climbing the stairs, Robin mutters something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like this place looks like that jizz building, and Nancy presses her lips together and hurries them towards her room.
They speak more freely now than they did at the Wheelers’. It feels strange, talking about everything in a place that isn’t Hawkins. A place that doesn’t know.
It’s like being caught between worlds, Nancy thinks, and nearly laughs at the absurdity of it. No, she amends, this isn’t quite like that. She knows what that’s really like, now.
They talk about their classes, people they’ve met, professors they hate. Nancy thinks she’s doing a damn good job at hiding the thoughts that have been plaguing her for months, until Robin frowns at her in a lull in conversation and says: “What’s going on with you?’
She blinks. “What?”
Robin squints, trying to figure out just what it is, as if it’s written on Nancy’s forehead. In reality, it’s on the tip of her tongue. It’s in the back of her mind whenever she wakes up and she’s still in this tiny dorm room. It’s in her breath, which catches any time her eyes find the swarm of dust motes by the window and think it’s—
“You don’t want to be here, do you?”
Only Robin could say something like that in a way that just feels…curious.
“Um…like, in general, or like…?”
Robin’s eyes widen. “Oh! No, no, I didn’t mean—that’s not it, right?” She leans closer to where Nancy’s perched on her bed, nearly toppling the desk chair. “Please tell me it’s not like that. I meant…here. Physically. In Boston. In college. Doing…” she gestured vaguely. “Doing all this.”
Nancy clasps her hands tightly and leans forward over her crossed legs. Well, guess she might as well just admit it.
“Um. Yeah. I'm dropping out of school.”
Robin pauses, shocked despite her correct guess. “Wait, you are?” Her brow furrows. “But you…you're…”
Nancy's brain fills in the unsaid words. You're Nancy Wheeler. Her heart sinks. She’s not sure why she was expecting Robin of all people to understand her, but the confirmation still fills her with disappointment.
“I know, It’s just…” Nancy sighs, staring up at the blank ceiling. “I like it here, I really do. My classes are great, I’ve made a bunch of friends, I love being in Boston, but…” She’s never vocalized this to anyone, and as she speaks she realizes she’s struggling to even admit it to herself, not just her friend.
“...you’re bored, aren’t you?”
Nancy blinks and glances over. “What?”
Robin shrugs, the hint of a smile on her face, like it’s perfectly obvious. “You’re bored.”
“Wha—no, no. I'm not bored! I'm halfway across the country from home, I've got school, a job, a-a normal life—”
Her voice cracks on the last word.
“Exactly.”
Robin's eyes are wide as she leans even closer to the bed, voice dropping to a teasing murmur. “You’re bored because you don't have anything to shoot at anymore.”
Nancy follows Robin's gaze down to Nancy's hands in her lap. Her fingers are fidgeting absentmindedly with the thin strap of the watch on her wrist. Silence falls.
Then:
“What am I supposed to do, Rob?”
“Easy.” She shoots Nancy a grin and plants her arms on the bed, on either side of Nancy's legs. Nancy hadn't noticed when they'd gotten that close to each other. “You just need to find something that excites you.”
Alarm bells blare in Nancy's head.
“Like what?” She breathes, pulse racing. But Robin's already pulling back, an innocent smile on her face.
“I dunno,” she says. “Guess that's up to you. I'm bored all the time, and I always find something eventually.”
She turns and starts rifling through Nancy's dismally small VHS collection. “It would probably help if you had good taste in movies, for starters. It's gonna be a long weekend if this is all we've got to work with.”
Oh, yes, Nancy thinks. A very, very long weekend it will be.