Chapter Text
Morning met Nancy sitting on her pillowed windowsill. She’s been shamelessly enjoying a story, turning the pages with a soft smile appearing on her lips as she passed some of the especially well-written parts. The writing was surprisingly appealing with letters dark and clean on the almost worn-out pieces of paper, stuck in between the freshly printed ones.
Reading was a part of her daily routine, the one she secretly kept outside of her schedule. The simple way to ground yourself, a familiar pattern she didn’t mind to follow an hour earlier than her day was supposed to begin.
Her wristwatch ringed, sending a buzzing sensation through her wrist, signaling that the breakfast was half an hour away. Nancy still had her powdery pink pajama-shirt stretched over her knees, which occurred to be unusual. She rarely let herself get carried away by the book, mindfully keeping track of time.
She rose on her feet, slippers meeting the coldness of her floor with a thump, and walked to her closet, eying it thoughtfully for a minute or two. Weather seemed to worsen with Autumn slowly coming around, with its pouring rains and chilly winds. Warm sweater and a pair of boots it is then.
She tied her wavy hair with a ribbon, distantly likening it to the process of wrapping a present, fingers moving in a rush. There was a hesitant brush of a pale lipstick gliding over her lips before she looked herself up and down. Despite the wool of her top being both soft and dense, it felt itchy and thin where it was met with her skin. Nancy tried to shrug the feeling off, but it somehow made it only worse.
Something wasn’t right, but she didn’t have any time left to linger on it. She closed her eyes, her own reflection - conflicted - suddenly replaced with a warm blur. She took a deep breath, with a palm slowly put over her rising chest. ‘It’s fine,’ she told herself, relaxing at the touch, ‘you’re fine.’
Words of reassurance made close to nothing with the way her stomach curled, but it smoothed her face. The second Nancy opened her eyes, she was met with a collected, mostly blank expression. As long as you behave, Luck is on your side.
The doorknob let out a click, loud enough to be heard downstairs, as she pushed the door open, stepping out of the room. She dwelt on it for a moment, trying to remember the outlines of Mike’s recent muttering. Was it about the locks?.. She bites down on her lip, suddenly ashamed. She wasn’t paying attention.
It’s not like she believed everything he said. In fact, her mind always took the opposite side. Nancy was proud to be skeptical, proud of barely letting any exceptions to the rule. What she wasn’t proud of was…
She eyed Mike’s door with a frown. Her brow raised at the “Do Not Disturb” sign scribbled on its surface with a sharpie. That wasn’t here yesterday. Not good.
“Mike,” Nancy called, following it with a knock, “it’s breakfast.”
Silence.
“We don’t have time for this,” she sighed, knocking again. Mike showing his temper this early in the morning screamed “getting in trouble” and she wasn’t in the mood for that. Not today, not ever. The unsettling feeling came back and she gritted her teeth, holding it back.
“I know you can hear me,” she said, her voice remaining calm, “and that you’re upset.”
No response.
“I’ll admit, I might have snapped on you,” Nancy gave in, a sigh followed by. “I didn’t mean that… the things I said yesterday. But I won’t apologize to the door. Open it and then we'll talk.”
She looked at the sign. They were perfectly safe for a few days before any of their parents would notice the damaged piece of wood. Although, that much is true only if Mike shows up at breakfast. Nancy’s wristwatch ringed, the similar sound coming from behind the door. Too far for Mike to be anywhere near.
“Suit yourself,” she decided, turning around and rushing towards the stairs. ‘One minute’ alarm shut with a quick slide of a finger.
***
Nancy stared at her untouched food in distaste. Her mother’s gaze felt hot at the top of her head as she moved the scrambled eggs to the side. She emptied half of the water glass before, blunting the increasing ache, but the sight of it still made her nauseous. It was better than facing any of her parents, so she refused to look away.
“Mike’s feeling dizzy, I suggested he stay in bed,” she said, tired of postponing the inevitable. The sound of forks scraping the plates suddenly came to an end, three pairs of eyes now watching her. Nancy squeezed her hand around the tablecloth under the table, stopping herself from swallowing the uncomfortable knot. She hated lying. “I should probably bring him medicine.”
Nancy stood up, happy to come up with a decent enough excuse. It took away some of the pressure off her shoulders and, hopefully, gave her a way out. She turned in place and almost took a step when Karen called after her, forcing her to stop.
“Honey, it’ll wait,” so, the lie wasn’t convenient enough to fool her. Noted. “We still have something to discuss, sit down.”
Nancy held back a sigh, returning back to her place. Her mother wore the look of disapproval, but didn’t press the issue before Ted. They’d have to talk it out later then, in private.
“We have a bus today,” she announced, turning to her husband for confirmation. He hummed back with a nod, resuming his breakfast, the newspaper opened in his free hand. Karen ignored the lack of response, a smile quickly forming on her face to hide the frustration. “Harrington’s boy will be at the station, meeting the newcomers,” Nancy can already tell, where this conversation goes. So she doesn’t let her mother finish the sentence.
“I’ll gladly join him on duty,” she forced a smile, tablecloth making its way back into her fist.
“Good thing we’ve already told him you’re coming,” Karen smiled, for real this time, emotions overtaking her usually politely closed expression. “He’ll be there to collect you in a matter of minutes, so you should probably hurry to deliver your brother his medicine,” she winked playfully and Nancy didn’t have it in herself to say anything back. Whatever makes her mother happy.
“And while you are on it,” Ted opened his mouth as Nancy reached for the door, “wash your face, paint isn’t a good look on you.” Nancy bit her lip to keep herself from snapping at the bag of bones.
“Yes, father,” she said, swallowing the pride. Not today. “Will do.”
She then took off, blinking off the sudden wetness of her eyes. Her stomach swirled, making her make a turn to her own room before she had a chance to tell Mike the fake story she came up with to make up for his absence.
***
Nancy brushed her teeth with resentment she thought was long lost in the past; along with the childish fear of making her parents angry. Apparently, that wasn’t the case.
She spat the bubbling paste and watched it spinning down the sink, thoughts running through her head faster than she catches their meaning. She’s being brought back to reality when a doorbell rings, filling their home with an annoying buzz nobody cared about enough to change. She took the last glance of herself in the mirror, fingers unconsciously brushing over the lips. No stickiness to them.
Nancy rushed her way out, written in a hurry note for Mike in her hand. She quickly slided it under his door, whispering short “bus is here” before running down the stairs to open the front door, because a few more seconds of Steve pushing the bell’s button and she wasn’t responsible for her actions.
“Hi, Steve!” She greeted him through the gritted teeth as she opened it wide open. Did she hope it’ll hit him in the process? Maybe.
“Hi, Nance,” he answered awkwardly from where he jumped to avoid being hit by the door. “Are you ready to go?”
“Give me a second,” she said, turning away from him to take the jacket off the hook. She threw it on, closing the door behind them. She didn’t bother with a lock, knowing it’ll soon be the time for Holly to go and play in the yard, but checked for her keys. They were safely put in her pocket.
“How many people this time?” Nancy asked as they left the property, shutting the fence.
“Just one,” Steve shrugged, looking down at his shoes. “At least that’s what I’ve been told.”
“You don’t look particularly enthusiastic,” she noted, taking in his appearance for the first time. Now she felt guilty for the door almost-accident. Great.
Steve scoffed. “You don't either.” Nancy didn’t respond.
They walked in the silence for a while. A few blocks went by before he started talking again. “My parents are coming home. Tomorrow.”
“For how long?” She asked mostly out of politeness. They both knew the answer.
“Don’t know,” he confessed predictably, kicking the rock under his feet. “Can be one day, can be two.” They made it to the corner of the street. “You’re turning twenty one in two months, they’re totally hosting a dinner,” he smiled at that, while Nancy tried not to make a face.
“It’ll be nice,” she lied, missing Steve humming in agreement as they reached the station, just in time for the bus to show up on the horizon. Nancy thanked whoever was accountable for its schedule in her head.
She hurried to the platform, leaving Steve to trail behind.