Archive of Our Own ^beta

Prologue

“What could possibly be so important that you need to be alone for that long?” Mom cries, her face pale.

Jonathan stares back at her. Maybe this isn’t the right time but… he runs his hands along his jeans. He breathes deep, opens his mouth, but the words won’t come out. She crosses her arms, she’s getting impatient he needs to just get it over with already.

“I'm uh… Well I'm um…the thing is…” he stammers, still struggling and she looks away for a moment.

“I'm going out with Nancy” Jonathan yells, breathing hard.

Mom looks at him, or rather through him. Like he's not really there. He swallows hard, crosses his arms and taps his fingers on his elbow. She knits her brows together, bobs her head like she's mentally repeating his words or maybe putting together the puzzle then she purses her lips and glances at the window. In short, it's agony.

Until now, Jonathan didn't realize just how important it is to him that she's ok with this. He didn't imagine that she wouldn't be. But Mom's prolonged silence is speaking volumes. He can practically hear his own rapid heartbeat as he waits with baited breath. He's not sure what he's going to do if she has a meltdown over this. Yell maybe, or cry, possibly beg. He knows what it's like to be with Nancy now, to feel the security of her hand in his, to kiss her just because he can, to come undone from her touch. He can't go back to pretending like he doesn't care. They had promised each other as much.

“Nancy?” she repeats, inquisitive.

“Yea” he whispers.

“Nancy Wheeler?” she clarifies, slowly sounding it out and making his heart flutter.

“Yea, Nancy Wheeler” Jonathan confirms, smiling softly.

Mom mulls it over, keeping him on the edge of his toes. Her face gives none of her feelings away. At least when Karen walked in on them kissing when they were supposed to be studying she seemed giddy. Repeating over and over how she knew it. But mom’s not smiling, she’s not frowning either, it’s just more of the same blank expression that’s taken over her face lately.

“Well have fun” she says at long last.

“Thanks… uh I gotta go, she's waiting for me.” he informs, before he can overthink how she’s taking this.

“Waiting for you?” Mom questions, knitting her brows together.

“Yea uh in my car” he responds.

“Your car?” she repeats, blinking.

“Yea”

“You left her in the car?” she wonders, her voice thin.

“Yea”

“Jonathan” Mom berates, clearly upset with him. “Let her know she can come in next time”

“Right, right yea I will” Jonathan agrees, quickly leaving the house and knowing he’s not about to bring around Nancy when mom clearly can’t handle that yet.

Jonathan's decided his ceiling is boring. When he was a kid, he begged his parents for glow in the dark stars but Lonnie always shut him down. By the time his parents divorced it seemed too childish. Unlike his peers, it never even occurred to him to put posters up there. For one thing, it was gross and for another he might actually die if someone saw. So now his ceiling is boring.

He sighs and rolls to look at his nightstand instead. There's not much to look at really, just his watch, his wallet, a couple rolls of film and a pen that Nancy accidentally left behind the last time she was over.

He should call Nancy. That's what he's supposed to do now. Wake her up in the middle of the night and try to explain that he's not sure what his nightmare was about but it woke him up out of a sound sleep. Except, her sleepy voice always makes him feel worse. And really he's not worth losing sleep over.

Jonathan never remembers his nightmares. Usually, they made him think of El in the kiddie pool. Floating, feeling nothing, searching for something in the darkness only to come up screaming. He shuts his eyes desperately trying to summon sleep but it's no use. He glances at the clock and decides that four-fifteen really isn't that bad of a start to the day.

He slides out of covers, trying not to wince when the chill of the house hits him down to his bones. He picks up a crumpled pair of jeans from the floor and puts them on. Then he grabs at the sweater he abandoned on his chair and pulls it over his head. Really, it doesn't do much. Their house is always cold in the winter.

In a moment of clumsiness he trips over something in the dark and knocks into his dresser jostling his car keys to the floor. As he bends down to pick them up, the idea hits him like lightning. He can always just go for a drive.

Driving is as easy as breathing. He doesn't have to think, he can drum out a beat on the wheel and most importantly he doesn't have to stare at his ceiling and mull over his bad dreams, or his fears, or how he’s going to screw everything up. Because deep down he knows it’s inevitable. No matter how magical the last couple of weeks with Nancy have been, eventually, the other shoe is going to drop.

Jonathan tightens the laces of his well-worn converse. He should have switched to his winter boots by now, but try as he might he can’t bring himself to take them out of the corner of his closet that they’ve been sitting in for the last year. Though as the icy air hits him, he feels stupid for being unsettled by caked on mud from that night in the woods. He quickly makes his way to his car but it doesn’t offer much shelter from the elements. He turns the engine over and attempts to back out of the driveway as quietly as possible.

Hawkins is odd at this hour. Eerily calm with the anticipation something is going to happen. Like a snow globe before it's turned over. Still, he prefers it. There's no one glaring at his car as he passes by, whispering to each other about how sad his family is, or worse cursed. His mom's maiden name means unlucky and up until a year ago he was convinced it was just a weird coincidence.

He should be relieved, relaxed even. He finally told his mom about dating Nancy and it went well. Sure, she didn't really ask any questions or anything but maybe that's normal. It's not like he'd know. He wants to convince himself that it's no big deal, that this is just a new experience for mom too and that by tomorrow she'll be interrogating him for details.

But Jonathan can't believe that, not fully at least. He's worried that this is just the new normal. Lately, whenever he shares exciting news with Mom and she stares blankly before nodding almost like an actor who needs to be fed their lines.

But, it's not like he needs mom's attention, he's not a little kid anymore. He just thought announcing he's dating Nancy Wheeler might get some reaction. After all, Jonathan Byers is dating Nancy Wheeler. It is pretty astounding. Especially for his first real relationship.

… On second thought, maybe Mom's just in shock.

Somehow he finds himself driving to the edge of Dearborn like a homing beacon. It's not the first time he's unintentionally navigated to Nancy's on a late night drive but it takes him by surprise each time. He could turn back now, drive home, preoccupy his time with making cinnamon rolls from scratch and hope mom and Will don’t ask any questions when they wake up.

On the other hand, the warmth and safety of Nancy's bed calls to him like a siren. Cautiously, he makes the turn rationalizing that if her light is on he'll sneak up and if not he'll go home. When he rounds the corner, disappointment crashes into him like a tidal wave.

Of course her light is off. It's four in the morning. It’s not like she was expecting him. Why would she? They had their romantic goodbye hours ago. She asked him to stay and he said no. He's really only got himself to blame. Jonathan sighs, cinnamon rolls it is.

The rest of the weekend passes in a blur and before he knows it, he and Will are back to school on Monday. Their routine is different, sure he still makes breakfast but they're usually out of the house before they can help with mom's key hunt.

Now, Jonathan makes sure to find them before they leave and set them on the table. It's not that he doesn't want to help, but he has to be smart about his time management. Making it across town and back to school on time is no easy feat. Nancy and Mike are waiting on the sidewalk when his car pulls up, already arguing over something though he's not sure what.

“Hey” Nancy greets with a peck when she slides into the car.

“Hey” he returns with a small smile.

“Hey” Mike mimics in the backseat and Will erupts into laughter.

Nancy flips around to scold her little brother as Jonathan peels away from the curb. Between the Wheeler Siblings bickering and Will's excited chatter, mornings are definitely nosier now. But he finds himself minding less and less. Something about the noise is comforting. Their house has been too quiet lately like a mausoleum. The chaos of their new routine makes him feel invigorated. Alive even.

Things are different at school too. Sure, he still captures the ire of his classmates by simply existing but at least he has a lunch buddy now. But other than their blissful dark room lunches, and cautious shared glances in class, nothing much has changed. No matter how much he feels like it has.

Well, there is one other thing. He has to see the school counselor now. Which is well, a complete waste of his time to put it mildly.

He doesn't particularly like Miss Kelly but he doesn't dislike her either. They're neutral at best. Apparently, he’s been on her radar since she caught him staring just a little too long at the Emerson booth at the college fair in September. Miss Kelly doesn’t seem to care that he was only interested because he wanted to recommend the school to Nancy. After all, it’s not like his family can afford private school in another state. Jonathan managed to dodge her, and any collegiate conversations, for two months. But, then Bob died and he missed a week of school.

So now once a week he sits in her office and stares at the tchotchkes and degrees on the wall. And when she asks how he is he says good or fine or alright. All the one-word answers Mom hates.

Because, really, what is he supposed to say?

“Well you see, I slept with the girl of my dreams in a conspiracy theorist musty bunker and then when I went home my brother was possessed by an other-worldly demon and I had to perform an exorcism with my mom and my girlfriend of twenty four hours? Oh, and my mom's boyfriend was brutally ripped apart by monster dogs”

He's not exactly trying to get locked away in Pennhurst.

They're supposed to be talking about Bob. About how tragic his death is, how it affected Jonathan and his family. He had no clue how popular Bob was until he was shaking what felt like the entire population of Hawkins hands at his funeral. It was a lot.

If he was being honest he’d tell her that he was an asshole and now he can't take it back. And all he really has left is a JVC camera that he can’t even look at without feeling such an intense guilt that it threatens to swallow him whole. But he’s not about to tell her any of that. So instead, he's boring a hole into the UCLA degree on the wall that boasts Lisa Kelly's academic achievement.

“Do you wanna go to the west coast for college?” she questions, tracking his line of sight.

“No. I’d miss the snow too much” Jonathan dismisses.

“So an east coast school then?” Miss Kelly probes, making him regret saying anything.

“Yea, yea I guess” he shrugs, unwilling to admit that New York or nowhere has been carved into his desk since he was ten.

When he was six, NYU seemed like the furthest place from Hawkins. Admittedly, it was a random decision, for whatever reason Mom had borrowed a New York City guidebook from the library and he lost himself in the vibrant photos of the Empire State Building, the Statue of Liberty and Greenwich Village. He can still see the tiny font underneath the picture of the Washington Square park describing its history and relation to NYU.

The next page was fully dedicated to the university and he must have worn it out. He could tell any unassuming adult just about everything from the year NYU was founded to the significance of violet as the school color. He had never even seen a skyscraper before but they enticed him and he longed to flee Hawkins and find a new home among them.

Obviously, he knows better now and maybe it's wishful thinking but he can't shake the feeling he belongs in New York. Besides, he can't picture himself or Nancy in California.

“Do you have anywhere in mind?” she presses, with a knowing look.

“I don't know… Roane County probably" he lies for the hundredth time hoping that she'll give up once and for all.

Miss Kelly’s nose wrinkles at the thought of him going to junior college, but he’s really not sure what’s so bad about it. RCC is cheap, it’s close to home, and it gives him a little more time to make sure mom and Will are settled before he leaves to do whatever-

“Well what about your mom?” she asks casually interrupting his train of thought and turning his world on its axis.

“What?” he gapes, trying to ignore the sudden churning in his stomach.

“Where did she want to go to school?” she elaborates.

He truly doesn’t know this time. He swallows hard trying to ignore the shame. Seventeen years and he never thought to ask once about mom’s life before him and Will. Sure, he knows the basics; she grew up in Hawkins, Lonnie only married her to dodge the draft, her dad died when Jonathan was a baby or maybe a toddler? But, the only time they ever talked about college was his future, not her past.

Miss Kelly is patiently waiting for his answer and he knows that if he doesn’t give one soon she will say his name the same way Nancy does when he zones out while driving.

“I don't know” He responds earnestly, “I've never asked and she's worked at Melvalds since it was a diner”

“I didn't know it used to be a diner,” she muses with a smile.

“Yea uh, I learned to read from the menus” he informs, smiling nostalgically.

“What?”

“You know when I was younger she'd seat me on the counter with all my stuff and I started memorizing the menus while she was working. Next thing mom knows I'm the one reading Curious George at bedtime.” he grins fondly.

But Miss Kelly isn’t smiling, if anything she looks concerned like when he mentioned to Nancy that he perfected making box mac and cheese by seven.

“It-it wasn't an all the time thing just when my Aunt Darlene or Mrs Wheeler couldn't watch me” he corrects, hoping that it’s enough to throw her off the trail. His fond childhood memory suddenly feels tainted. Another to add to the traumatic recollections.

“And where was your dad?” she pushes.

He stiffens, somehow resists the urge to run and glances up at the clock watching the seconds tick by. Maybe if he waits long enough she won’t ask again and he can go to class and forget this ever happened.

“Jonathan?” she calls.

“Uh working too I guess” he grumbles, fidgeting in his seat.

“As?” she presses, and he really wishes she’d just drop it.

“A mechanic fixing cars” Jonathan grunts, crossing his arms.

“So he didn't go to college either then?” Miss Kelly asks.

“No definitely not” he answers, sarcastically.

“Did you ever talk about college?” she asks, and he huffs.

“Not with him” he answers through gritted teeth.

Jonathan's really not sure what he expected. Of course, Miss Kelly with her Magna Cum Laude degree can't fathom the idea of having a deadbeat dad.

“With your mom?” she redirects, catching his attention again.

He hesitates, wary to shine a light on any possible dark corners of his memory of being in the kitchen and announcing he was going to NYU in first grade.

“We talked about NYU once when I was little” he confesses softly and slowly like he’s letting her in on his biggest secret.

“That's a great school! I can get some brochures and I think I have a colleague from grad school who went there we can-”

“You don't need to do all that” he shouts suddenly, “Sorry, I mean a pamphlet is fine but I don't need to… I just… I mean… I don't want that”

“What do you want Jonathan?”

To not be asked vague questions, for this to be over, a million dollars. He tried to envision his future but all can picture is Nancy tucked under his arm as they walk around his idea of a college campus.

“To be with Nancy” he mutters.

“Nancy?”

“My girl…my girlfriend” he explains, his face suddenly warm.

“You're young that's understandable but you shouldn't plan your entire future around one person” Miss Kelly advises, like she's watched too many couples chart a course together only to implode.

“No I know but… that's… it's… we’re different” Jonathan defends in disbelief that she's comparing him and Nancy to Tommy H. and Carol.

“How?”

“We just are!” he exclaims. She blinks, quietly taking in his outburst.

“Jonathan, you're seventeen” she cautions with warm, kind eyes.

All at once it's like the rug is pulled out from under him. It takes everything he has not to recount the horrors that he and Nancy have faced together. College would be a cakewalk compared to the upside down. Instead he gives her his version of the silent treatment and doesn't say anything meaningful for the rest of the session.

Afterwards, Nancy doesn't ask how it went, she just slides her hand into his weaving their fingers together. And as long as he ignores the looks from their peers then this is nice, blissful even.

Later, when he's supposed to be focusing on Sherman's March but finding Nancy's ringlets much more interesting she deftly passes him back a note. He's never been passed a note before. Well, not one meant for him. Ok well, not one meant for him that didn't carry some insult.

At the very least, no one's ever written his name with a tiny heart by it like Nancy has. Jonathan clumsily opens the paper just as he's hoping that the noise isn't too loud Nancy coughs to cover it. She really is an expert in this.

‘Movie night at my place? Your pick’

On some level, Jonathan knows that she's attempting to cheer him up without asking exactly what happened. He's really not sure he'd be able to say much if she did ask. All that's running through his head is that Miss Kelly doesn't believe in true love, followed by the thought that he hasn't even told Nancy he loves her so maybe Miss Kelly is right after all.

He temporarily ignores his insecurities and quickly whispers yes in Nancy's ear before she can get the wrong idea. She breathes in sharply and seems to tense. He immediately recoils and spends the rest of class convinced that he's done something wrong and she's going to dump him.

The rest of the day passes by with a sluggish monotony after they part ways. He pays more attention to the way the wind moves through the trees than his photography lesson. Afterwards, in Math he tries his best to focus but no matter what his thoughts keep drifting back to Nancy. That seems to be his own new normal, when they’re together time doesn’t exist but the second she leaves life is in slow motion. After an eternity, the bell finally releases him from his prison sentence and he finds himself taking larger strides in the hallway to meet up with Nancy at his locker. When he spots her, eagerly bouncing on her heels and peering through the crowds, he practically sprints.

“You took forever” she complains as he pries the metal door open.

“I was making sure I copied the formula right,” he confesses, shyly.

Neither of them are exceptionally good at math but at least Nancy doesn’t transpose formulas incorrectly. His last error almost cost him a full letter grade. He had to plead with Mr. Mundy to let him revise.

“Maybe we should have a study date instead?” she suggests earnestly.

“We could, if you want” Jonathan offers, like they’re playing some weird decision ping-pong.

“No, I'm more interested in what you picked for a movie” she admits, eagerly.

“I was thinking Christine” he answers, depositing his history book.

“The one with the possessed car?”

“Grey Gardens?” he mutters, catching Robin’s attention next door.

“No absolutely not” Nancy rejects, as Robin laughs.

“Picnic at Hanging Rock?” Jonathan tries again, trying to wedge Grapes of Wrath into his bag.

“I’ve never even heard of that” she grumbles, taking his book when he can’t find space and tucking it into her trapper keeper.

“Ooh what about Endless Love?” she asks excitedly, before he can tell her she’d really like Picnic at Hanging Rock.

“I thought it was my pick” he complains.

“I'm just suggesting” she claims innocently.

“Ah, is that what you're doing?” he teases with a grin.

“Mhmm”

“Cujo” he says, because there’s no way in hell he’s watching her fawn over Tom Cruise.

“You'll cry when the dog dies” she argues, but there's no bite to it, no sting of an insult, more like an adoration that his compassion extends to fake rabid St.Bernard’s.

“His Girl Friday?” he suggests, knowing Nancy would never turn down one of her favorites.

“Now you’re talking” she agrees, as he shuts his locker closed again.

Cautiously, he slides his hand into hers, a small part of him still anticipating that she’ll pull away. But she zealously laces their fingers together and tenderly squeezes his hand before practically dragging him out of the school. Her giddiness is infectious and he can’t help but laugh as she briefly struggles to open the door before thrusting her body against the push bar.

“So listen I haven’t been completely…” Nancy trails off.

He notices Will and his friends are lingering around the trunk of his car plotting something and Jonathan’s good mood slowly starts sinking. When he first got his license, he loved driving Will and company to the arcade or the movies, it was fun to be in on their jokes and plans. But lately it feels like he’s more and more of a chauffeur and less of a confidant. Not to mention, wherever Will goes he has to follow or risk Mom’s temper... Or worse.

“So much for movie night” he grumbles, pessimistically. His hopes of a relaxing evening being blown to the wind.

“Jonathan! Can Mike, Lucas and Dustin come over to work on our science project?!” Will excitedly shouts as soon as they’re near enough.

“Well…”

“We were going to go to Dustin’s but his mom isn’t home. So um, you’d have to go too. So I thought we could just go to our house” Will informs, rapidly, anxiety evident in his fidgeting hands.

“That’s-”

“Oh uh hi Nancy” Will acknowledges, sharing a look with Mike.

“Hi Will”

“Look buddy I-”

“Please Jonathan” Will interrupts before he can finish. His eyes are the size of dinner plates as he silently pleads.

Jonathan looks at the rest of Will’s friends, then glances at Nancy. He’s not sure how he got caught in this crossfire. On the one hand, choosing Will is probably more than enough reason for Nancy to dump him. He’s been daydreaming about cuddling during movie time for hours, but he’d rather die than disappoint his brother. Will has so little to look forward to these days, and it’s not exactly his fault mom won’t let him out without a chaperone.

“Study date at yours instead?” Nancy suggests, swiftly resolving the problem.

“Yea, uh, yea sure” he nods, astounded by her decisiveness.

Somehow, against all odds, they all cram into his car. He has to shimmy his arm so that Nancy can tuck underneath and Will can fit in the front seat. Even then, the drive home is uncomfortable to say the least. The collective grumble when he doesn’t take Mirkwood seems to rattle the car. But he’s not about to drive past the lab if he doesn’t have to.

When he finally pulls into the driveway, the first thing he notices is that Mom isn’t home. He dismisses his racing pulse as he shuts off the ignition and everyone piles out of the car. But he takes longer, pausing for a deep breath, trying not to alert Will or worse, Nancy.

Maybe mom got tired of waiting for him to change the oil in her car and took it in before getting dropped back off. Maybe she was just visiting Bob’s grave, or maybe she got called into work. There were a hundred logical explanations. He strains trying to remember if her car was at Melvald’s when they passed by as Will keys in.

“Mom we're home” he calls out as they enter the house, knowing that he won't hear an answer.

“Her car isn’t here” Will notes, barely above a whisper as he peels off his jacket.

Briefly, they make eye contact and Jonathan pushes his anxiety down to put on a brave face.

“She’s probably running errands or something” He lies, ruffling Will’s hair but he can feel Nancy’s eyes watching him like a hawk.

Jonathan ignores her, choosing to untie the knots of his shoelaces as new ones form in his stomach. He really thought or maybe hoped that she was past this. When they were younger, and dad was still around, she used to disappear for hours. Leaving him to keep calm for Will, pretend that this was normal for Will, lie for Will. And each time she would come home, tell him she was too overwhelmed, needed to clear her head, give him a candy and then swear it wouldn’t happen again. And each time he believed her.

Until she and dad would get into screaming matches and dad would leave for days, weeks, months. He’d always turn back up, eventually, when the money ran dry or he missed a hot meal, or wherever he was staying kicked him out. And for a brief moment, they’d be a normal family then the cycle would start again. But, she promised him when Lonnie left that she wasn’t going to do this shit anymore.

“It’s the three of us against the world” Mom’s voice echoes in his head.

And like a fool he believed her.

Will and his friends race down the hallway to his bedroom and slam the door shut. Jonathan tries not to spiral internally debating if he should call Hopper or not. Suddenly, Nancy grazes his side with her hand, skyrocketing him back down to earth.

“Hey, sorry-”

“Jonathan, you’re supposed to be setting a good example” She reminds him, gently critical.

Right, he’s supposed to stop apologizing so Will stops apologizing.

“Sor-” he starts, before she cuts him off with just a look.

“Honestly, what am I going to do with you?” Nancy wonders, softly.

But before he can think of an answer she pushes open the door to his bedroom, filling him with a dread he didn’t know existed until this moment. He quickly follows behind, gently closing the door and hiding them away.

Nancy looks around his room like an anthropologist, quietly taking in his habitat. Jonathan’s sure that if she had her diary handy she’d be noting all of her observations. As she silently analyzes a part of him can't help but feel exposed. He’s never given too much thought to his decor before, he isn’t particular to any overall aesthetic instead favoring putting things up simply because he likes them. But now he can feel his stomach tie in knots as she carefully examines his design choices. In the back of his mind, he can hear Lonnie berating him over his Evil Dead poster. He breathes hard, he wants to know exactly what she’s thinking but would be fine if she took it to her grave.

“I like that one” she compliments, gesturing towards the mash up of Rimbaud and Bowie above his nightstand.

“Uh thanks” he breathes out in a whisper.

Nancy worms her lip and looks at him expectantly, like she’s wanting him to say more. But he can’t seem to think of anything worth saying. She turns her attention to his record player setup and he rubs his hands on his pants like that will release his anxiety. She delicately flips through a stack of vinyls, her brows knit together like she’s trying to decide what they might sound like from titles and artwork alone. Before he can muster the courage to ask if she wants to put something on, she pushes the start button on the record player and waits.

Then she frowns, too impatient for the arm to crawl into place and the needle to drop. When it at last does, the sound comes out muffled and she turns to him with a terrified look on her face, panicking that she’s broken something. Jonathan quickly crosses the room, unplugs his headphones from the night before and the sounds of Radio Free Europe flood the space and Nancy lets out a sigh of relief.

For a moment, neither of them say anything, content to listen to the music. He quickly falls into his old habit of watching her. Admiring the wrinkle in her brow as she mulls over the song. Absent-mindedly, he reaches out and tucks a stray curl behind her ear and she gives him a small smile. But his hand lingers, gently cupping her jaw. She tenderly kisses his palm and his heart pounds.

“It's not what I expected” she discloses, pulling away from his touch.

“Yea yea I know it's bad” he laughs, crossing his arms and rocking on his heels.

“No, no just” Nancy pauses, meeting his eyes, “Different” she whispers with a small smile.

She wanders closer to his chair, deposits her backpack near the legs and gently folds her coat over one of the arms.

“Where do you study?” she asks, sliding off her boots to make herself more comfortable.

“Hmm?”

“Your desk is kinda…” she notes, gesturing to the heap of clutter.

“Oh, uh, yea it’s… um my bed, mostly. Or sometimes I …” He trails off, distracted by her sudden recline onto his sheets.

Her eyes flit around, lingering on the details of his space. The crumpled sweater on the edge of his bed, the overdue copy ofThe Woman in Black on his dresser, some empty film canisters on his speaker. When her gaze reaches his nightstand, her eyes go as wide as the moon.

“Jonathan Byers, is that a joint!?” she exclaims, with a giddy delight over catching him breaking the law.

“What? No!” he responds instinctively and she raises a brow “I mean yes”

Nancy’s grin lights up her whole face, and he’s only annoyed at how much joy she’s getting out of him being caught.

“I just have trouble sleeping sometimes” he defends quietly, folding his arms together.

“You do?” she asks softly with a wrinkle of her brow.

“I mean not all the time just-”

“Often enough that there's a joint on your nightstand” Nancy interjects, concern written all over her face.

He really doesn’t want to have this discussion right now. He’d rather read The Grapes or Wrath, or memorize the dates of Civil War battles, or even struggle through math homework than talk about how little sleep he’s getting. To his surprise, Nancy just leans further back in his bed, resting her head on one of his pillows and then pats the empty space next to her. And for all of his faults he can at least follow instructions. He lays down, props himself onto his side so they’re facing each other.

With her free hand, Nancy takes his and twists their fingers together. It’s odd, and it’s definitely not studying but he can’t say that he minds all too much. There’s a strange familiarity to this, like they’re back in the motel and she’s going to ask to see his scar again.

“Who do you buy from?” she questions in an almost childlike curiosity.

“What are you a narc?” he jokes, huffing out a laugh.

Nancy smiles and rolls her eyes.

“It’s just Eddie's so…. Eddie” she informs, wrinkling her nose “And you're so, you” she concludes with a fond smile a wistful gleam in her eye.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jonathan asks, a tightness building in his chest.

“You’re softer” Nancy whispers like a secret.

“Softer?” he repeats, incredulously.

“More gentle” she rephrases, tenderly, rubbing their hands together.

He has to admit, she has a point: gentle isn’t exactly a word he’d use to Eddie Munson.

“Eric from the Hawk” he confesses.

“Hmm that makes sense” she decides with a nod, tucking away the information.

Silence grows between them, and while it’s not uncomfortable he does wish he turned up the volume on his stereo to drown out the low roar coming from Will’s room.

“Is Evil Dead your favorite?” Nancy asks before he can ask if she wants to put on a record.

“I don't know it's uh top three for sure” he answers, mulling it over.

“Hmm so Evil Dead, Bambi, what's the third one?”

“Bambi isn't top three” Jonathan laughs.

“I thought you were a fan of Thumper” She recalls with a grin and he sighs.

Nancy raises a brow, silently encouraging him to continue. He stalls, suddenly incapable of remembering any movie he’s ever seen. He didn’t expect this question to be this difficult. To her credit, she’s uncommonly patient as she waits for his answer. Quietly, watching him as he deliberates in his head.

“Evil Dead, Jaws and Rear Window maybe?” he decides at last.

“Never heard of it” she shrugs and he can’t help but laugh.

“It's an old Hitchcock movie” he explains, in-between breaths.

“So pretentious” Nancy teases in a breathy whisper with bright eyes that send a chill down his spine.

“I saw it the first year I worked at the Hawk” he swallows, trying to regain his senses.

“Do you miss it?” she inquires.

“Hmm?”

“Working at the movies?” she clarifies.

Jonathan considers it, he's not sure miss is the right feeling. More like a disruption of the natural order. He's supposed to go to school, go to work, come home, rinse and repeat. But there’s too much to do at home now. He needs to watch Will, ensure that Mom eats, keep house, make sure the lights stay on. He can go back to work in spring once this spell passes. Once mom gets back on her feet. Besides, being unemployed has its perks, mostly afternoons like these.

“I guess a little… but I get to spend time with you so it's fine” He answers with a soft smile.

Nancy smiles and before he knows it, her soft lips are pressed against his. Any small sense of composure he had gets swept away under the weight of her kiss. She leans her body in, reducing any inch of space until their chests are pressed together and it's all he can do to remember to breathe.

But every time he does his senses are hit with the combination of her strawberry shampoo and the powdery vanilla of her perfume. Which really only eggs him on more. He deepens their kiss and she lets go of his hand and weaves her fingers into his hair. In response, he grips her hip in a way that's somehow become second nature in the month they've been together.

Somehow, she gets him flat on his back and then swings her legs over his lap, pinning him into the mattress and he doesn’t mind one bit. Nancy breaks away and he actually whines at the loss of contact. With a light laugh and some deft movements she peels off her sweater.

‘Breathe Jonathan’ he reminds himself as he's captivated by the pink flush that’s bloomed across her chest. Briefly, he glances down and finds himself hypnotized by the dainty blue bow at the center of her bra. Nancy breathes out another laugh, and he knows he’s been caught staring. He meets her eyes and they’re filled with a burning intensity that he still can’t believe is for him. An ache of want flows through him and he tries to sit up if only to do something other than gawk and pant.

He leans forward and gently kisses the warm, smooth skin of her collar bone, slowly making his way up to the column of her neck as his hand travels up her back.

“Jonathan” Nancy murmurs, and it’s like music to his ears.

At last, he reaches the clasp of her bra and he attempts to pry it off, too eager to see more of her flesh for his own good.

“Ah patience” she clucks, grabbing his hand and pinning it back above his head.

She lingers, clearly trying to decide what to do about his transgression. Suddenly she grinds against him and he groans louder than he should. She smiles wide, then she lets go of his hand and her nimble fingers get to work peeling off his sweater too, but she leaves behind his undershirt for now.

Nancy leans back slightly, almost to admire her ability to reduce him to this mess. The dusty glow of the sun through his window hits her just right and he thinks, not for the first time, that he’ll never see anything as beautiful as Nancy Elizabeth Wheeler.

“You’re gorgeous” tumbles out of his mouth before he can think to stop himself.

“Oh?” she whispers, raising a brow.

Jonathan nods, and even though he's sure he looks like an idiot she gives him a wicked smile and kisses him again. Her hands travel dangerously along the waistband of his jeans. But the shifting light gnaws at the back of his mind. Was it that late already? When is he supposed to take everyone home? Are they staying for dinner?

Shit… Dinner

“Sorry” he gasps, detaching from Nancy’s lips, “Can we uh pause, I-I need to pull out something for dinner”

“Sure baby” she whispers, confusion evident on her face as she moves out of his way.

“Sor-uh, um, thanks” he notes with a reassuring smile. It’s not her fault he has to cook.

“Hurry back” she encourages, pecking his lips and he wordlessly nods again. She doesn’t have to tell him twice.

As he gets up, his socks cause him to slip. He attempts to recover, but it's too little too late he can hear Nancy trying to stifle her laugh behind him. In an awkward panic, he quickly exits his room.

Once he reaches the kitchen, he checks the fridge foolishly hoping that they’ll be something other than the six eggs, cup of milk and assorted condiments. But there’s not anything more than what he left in there this morning. He could make breakfast for dinner but then tomorrow he’ll be facing the same problem, and it’s way too late in the day to defrost the freezer burned chicken thighs.

Jonathan frowns. In a way, this is his own fault. He’s supposed to be in charge of groceries, but instead he used mom canceling The Post like some get out of jail free card. And now the consequences are coming to arrest him anyway. Rather than cataloging what they needed, he spent Sunday crafting the perfect, if not overly sappy, mixtape of seventies singer-songwriters for Nancy. He should’ve just gone to Bradley’s without a list considering how empty their supplies are.

In vain, he shifts his search to the cupboards but finds that they’re equally bare except for a package of dried peas that he doesn’t have the time to turn into soup. As a last ditch effort, he paws around the shelf hoping, against all odds, to find something. But all that's there is Will's leftover Halloween candy collecting dust because no one can bear to eat it or throw it away.

He wonders, not for the first time, how different life might be if he had just done what he was supposed to instead of going to the party. For starters, they'd probably have food in the house. He read in an article once that when tiny changes shift large outcomes it’s called the Butterfly Effect. And now the what ifs keep him up at night. If he had told Eric no. If he tried harder to be there for Will. If he just didn’t go to that party. But then again, who would've driven Nancy home?

Unexpectedly, he feels her arms wrap around him. It catches him off guard, but it's nice. With one small action, she's transported him away from his spiral, her own butterfly effect.

“Hey” Nancy whispers, softly pecking back.

“Hey” he echoes, placing one of his hands on top of hers.

“Everything ok?” she asks with a sweetness he’s not sure he deserves.

“Yea, yea it's fine” he lies, even though he knows he shouldn’t.

On her journey to the kitchen, she found his yellow sweater and he absentmindedly tugs at a loose thread on the sleeve. In the depths of his being, he wishes they could stay like this forever. Sixty Five million years could pass and they could be in this embrace, trapped in amber for eternity.

“Wanna start on math?” Nancy asks, inquisitively.

“Sure, if that's what you want” he shrugs, happy to go along with her plans just to put off his sentencing a little while longer.

Thirty minutes and one chapter review later, he’s decided that after he drops Nancy and the kids off he’ll just pop into the Big Buy and get a box of Mac and Cheese. He can scrounge up some change for Will to have hot lunch tomorrow, hopefully Nancy will let him have some of her pringles and after school he can go shopping. It’s not a perfect plan by any means, but they’ll get by.

Jonathan sighs and wipes away his eraser shavings again, truthfully he hasn’t been paying too much attention to his formulas and keeps having to correct his answers. They’re tiny mistakes, but he feels stupid just the same. Though Nancy isn’t exactly helping in the focus department. She keeps playing with her pencil, squirming in her seat and periodically sighing. But every time he's asked if everything’s alright she simply nodded her head, looked at him expectantly with her big blue eyes and then went back to her work.

"This is too hard," Nancy complains, releasing her hair from her tiny ponytail, running her hand through and shaking out the curls.

He knits his brows together, excluding her fidgeting she really doesn’t look like she’s struggling. At least she hasn’t used her eraser half as much as he has.

"It's not that hard" Jonathan responds gently, trying to boost her confidence.

"Says you, I think it's extremely difficult." Nancy insists with a small pout.

She leans her elbows onto the table, rests her chin on her palms, her hands framing her face so perfectly he almost wants to grab his camera. She lets out another sigh, louder than the others, almost overexaggerating how frustrated she is.

"Oh come on" he laughs in disbelief, she might hate math but she’s smart enough that it shouldn’t merit these dramatics.

"No really I mean it I can't focus” Nancy claims, batting her lashes. “At all" she asserts, her lips shifting to a wicked smile.

She somehow manages to lean in closer, seemingly laser focused on him, he swallows hard, if she weren’t so attractive he’d probably feel intimidated by her intensity. Suddenly, he feels something slowing passing up his leg and Oh, Oh.

"Well uh-”

Nancy rests her foot at a precarious place on his upper thigh and he nearly chokes on his own tongue. She tilts her head, looks at him with doe eyes and he thinks she’s got feigning innocence down to an art. He clears his throat attempting to regain a little composure.

“Do you…do you want to take a break?" he suggests in a low whisper.

"Smart boy" Nancy compliments, which he really shouldn't enjoy as much as he does.

But before he can do much more than think, mom seems to reappear out of nowhere. He jumps out of his skin, knocking Nancy’s foot off. Her brows knit together and she looks him up and down like he’s grown an extra head or something.

"Hey mom" Jonathan greets, definitely too loud to avoid suspicion.

He watches as Nancy reverts her expression back to neutral, placid even, before turning around to face his mom.

"Oh hi Mrs.Byers” she greets, in an almost sickenly sweet voice he doesn’t think he’s ever heard her use before.

Mom looks just as frazzled to see them as he was to see her. Her hair is windswept, a brown paper bag is precariously balancing on her hip and she keeps blinking at them like she’s imagining things. If he didn’t know any better, he’d almost be offended. He’s really not sure what the big deal is about having his girlfriend over.

"Hi Nancy" she responds finally with a small sigh and out of the corner of his eye he watches Nancy’s bright expression almost glitch. But her smile is back just as quickly as it left.

"Jonathan, do you mind?" Mom asks, gently lifting up the grocery bag to signal that there’s more where it came from.

"Yea sure" he nods, swiftly rising from his seat and trying to ignore Nancy’s watchful eyes.

"Do you-" she begins.

“No no it's ok I got it" he insists, cutting her off.

For a moment, he hesitates, wary to leave them alone with each other. Who knows what they’ll even talk about. Or worse, mom could pull out all of his embarrassing baby photos. Nancy’s squeal and subsequent needling when she finally noticed the one in the living room was bad enough, if mom were to pull out the one of him and Will in the bathtub he might actually die.

Behind him, he hears mom rustle through one of the bags and figures he better get a move on before she can ask too many questions. A part of him is surprised, he can’t remember the last time she went grocery shopping alone. In the last three years, she always had him tag along and keep track of what they needed. He feels almost weightless as he ties his shoes, maybe things would be alright after all.

The wind hits him as soon as he opens the front door and he instantly regrets not putting on his coat. But, it’s a good motivator to quickly grab the remaining four bags from the back seat. He tries not to pry into their contents too much. Though a small part of him can’t help but wonder how she managed to go shopping when last week she could barely get out of bed.

Jonathan shakes his head and pushes the thought back down to whatever black hole it came from. None of this is mom’s fault, it’s just the way it is. At least she’s trying, that has to count for something. On the bright side, as long as she stuck to their budget, it’s one less thing for him to worry about.

Briefly, he struggles with the door but when he gets in the house is surprisingly quiet, except for the ruckus coming from Will’s room. Sure enough, when he reaches the kitchen Nancy’s at the table nervously worming her lip as mom wanders about. In all his worrying, he never considered that they wouldn’t talk at all. Nancy notices him first and an unmistakable relief washes over her face.

“Did you buy out the whole store?” he teases, trying his best to lighten the mood.

“Well I had to we're bare bones around here” mom defends, forcefully.

He clears his throat, agrees and then sets the bags down on the table. Is she mad at him? Is that what this is? Is she going to scold him for not helping out? It is his responsibility after all, they have an unspoken understanding about it. But it’s not his fault he just lost track of time and… Nancy springs up, breaking him from his thoughts again. Before he can refuse her help, she’s neatly pulling out packages and organizing them based on where she thinks they should go.

Admittedly, it’s a bit amusing to watch her hem and haw over if the jam should join her pile of refrigerated items or not. Without trying to invade too much of her space, he guides her hand to the pantry pile, she tilts her head in confusion but places the jar down and returns to the bag. Before he can tease her about it, she pulls out a box of Hamburger Helper and he groans.

"What's wrong?" Nancy questions tenderly, turning to look at him with big worried eyes.

"Uh nothing" Jonathan reassures, clearing his throat.

Because he's not about to regale her with his hatred of Hamburger Helper. Especially not in front of Mom. Nancy pulls out another box and he convinces himself that it was probably just an honest mistake. A third and fourth box appear and he rationalizes that there must have been a sale or a coupon or something. There’s no way she purposely bought this much of his least favorite meal. He collects Nancy's pantry pile and sets out to put everything away. Maybe he can get away with hiding that stupid glove mascot box in the back of the cupboard with Will’s candy and mom won’t notice.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Nancy stall out in front of the fridge. Without thinking, he crosses the kitchen and hovers behind her. Somehow, in all the chaos of last month a demodog, as Dustin called it, got into their fridge and Nancy had the misfortune of finding it first.

“It’s ok, you don’t need to knock” he jokes, just barely above a whisper.

Nancy laughs, rolls her eyes and gently pushes his side. He reaches around her to open the fridge, and sure enough it’s as empty as when he checked a couple hours ago. She laughs again and then neatly finds permanent homes for the cheese, butter and eggs. When she finishes, he closes the door for her and she lightly hip checks him. He feigns offense and she smiles in the way that he loves, when it lights up her whole face and her nose scrunches up.

"Jonathan!” Will shouts, and he quickly turns around expecting the worst “Tell Dustin that the story about Phil Collins and the drowning kid isn’t a real thing" He begs, clearly irritated by whatever spat they're having.

"It’s totally a real thing," Dustin insists, smugly.

And all four boys look at him like he’s their own personal library of Alexandria.

"Uh” he blanks, taken aback by their sudden demands and still mostly thinking about Nancy’s smile “I don't… know” he clears his throat “I've never heard it so" Jonathan admits, nervously swinging his arms a little.

"What the rumor?" Lucas questions, with a raised brow.

"No… the song" he admits with a shrug and Nancy’s brows shoot up to her forehead.

"Told you" Mike gloats, bitingly.

"How have you never heard of it?" Nancy asks in disbelief.

"This may shock you but I don't listen to Phil Collins" Jonathan teases with a grin.

"It's in Risky Business" Nancy taunts, closing in on the limited space between them.

"Yea, well, I don't like Tom Cruise as much as you do" he counters, smirking down at her.

Nancy grins widely, mischief painted on her lips. For a moment everyone else fades away, the whole world is just them, and he really doesn’t care about Risky Business or Phil Collins or the boys' petty squabbles.

“Who cares about Tom Cruise!” Dustin shouts, putting the world back in motion, “Is it about calling the guy out or not!?”

"Jeez" Mom mumbles, and it’s like all the air has been sucked from the room.

Will meets his eyes and they silently agree that his friends are going to have to leave sooner than later. And Jonathan hates that.

“No, no I don't think so” Nancy answers Dustin politely.

“Then why does he say he can feel it coming and that he’s been waiting all his life” Dustin grills, loudly.

"Are those the actual lyrics?" Jonathan asks, grinning at Nancy.

"More or less. You should really see it in Risky Business" she suggests, with her wicked smile again.

“Where'd you even hear that anyway?” Lucas questions,

"Steve" Dustin shrugs and Nancy winces.

They don’t talk about Steve. He’s still not entirely sure what happened between the two of them. And he isn’t exactly going to ask if she doesn’t offer. Still, a small part of him feels bad for the guy. Sure, he’s got Dustin tagging along everywhere but at school he just seems adrift, friendless even. It’s honestly kinda sad.

“How many times do I have to tell you Steve isn't a reliable source” Mike berates, clearly over Dustin’s new role model.

"Alright, who's staying for dinner?" Mom loudly asks, before Dustin can take another swipe at Mike.

Jonathan turns to Nancy, gently nudging her side to catch her attention.

"Do you want to?" he asks, quietly.

"Yea, but it's just we're supposed to be having a family movie night thing" Nancy whispers, chewing her lip a little.

Right, Wheeler family movie night. That explains why she wanted him to come over. Mrs. Wheeler keeps pressuring Nancy to invite him for dinner and this must have been their compromise. He tries to ignore his stomach doing flips, even with mom home he doubts he can go over. He’ll just have to make it up to her later.

"Oh uh right well then I can take you home" he informs resolutely.

"Thanks" Nancy smiles, gently.

"Yea thanks Jonathan" Mike mocks, exchanging a look with Will who peels into giddy laughter.

Nancy glowers at their younger brothers, but he doubts that’s going to do anything to discourage their teasing. It’s their new favorite game, who can be the most dramatic imitation or who can be more theatrical about being grossed out. For the most part, Lucas and Dustin don’t engage in the puppet show, as Nancy calls it, it’s a game for Mike and Will alone. And honestly? He doesn’t mind one bit. If it makes Will laugh, it’s worth it.

The party scampers back to Will’s room to collect their things, and Nancy collects her stuff as well while he and mom wait in the living room. He’s sad to see them go, it’s most lively the old house has been in weeks. Well that and he’s not sure he’s ready to say goodnight to Nancy yet. But that doesn’t stop everyone from joining them in the living room in various stages of ready to go.

“Will, where are you going?” Mom asks from the couch as Will pulls his coat on.

“With Jonathan” he says, cautiously twisting his hands around and looking at him for back up.

“You all won’t fit in the car” she argues, and Jonathan mentally braces himself for a meltdown.

“Mom please” Will pleads, a watery sheen in his eyes.

“It’s fine we can squish” Dustin smiles brightly, throwing an arm over Lucas who plays along.

“He’ll fit in the front seat” Jonathan declares, as Nancy wanders in from his room.

He can feel mom’s eyes practically burning a hole in his skull. He’s sure that she thinks it’s too dangerous somehow. Everything is too dangerous now. And he gets it, he knows that there have been too many close calls. But when he had to sneak Will out of the house to go sledding over Thanksgiving break he drew the line. Besides, how exactly does she think they all got here?

“There are five of you” she retaliates, and he can feel his jaw tighten.

“I can sit in the middle Mrs. Byers” Nancy proposes, and while he appreciates her effort he’s equally sure there’s no placating mom at this moment.

“That’s an awful tight squeeze” mom counters, and he swears he hears Will sniffle.

“It’s fine really I don’t mind” Nancy asserts, and then looks at him fondly.

“I’m sure she doesn’t” Mike snarks at Will, who gives a feeble snicker. Too concerned with his fate to play games.

Nancy rolls her eyes at her brother and he sneers back.

“Mom” Jonathan questions, trying to get back on track.

She stalls and examines him before turning to do the same to Will. Often, he wonders what she really sees when she looks at them because he doubts it’s two teenagers. Does she even realize Will is going to be in high school next year?

“Fine but no pit stops” she concedes, to his shock.

Will is elated by this win, his face instantly lighting and Mike throws an arm over his shoulder in celebration.

“Oh before I forget” Jonathan remembers, crossing the space to pop into his bedroom. He quickly grabs a tape from the pile on his speaker.

“This is for you” he declares quietly, gently placing the tape into her hands. She briefly inspects it, smiles and then opens her mouth to say something.

“Oh great another mixtape” Mike teases, with a roll of his eyes and Will snickers.

In a flash, Mike steals the tape out of Nancy’s hands and sprints out the door, with Will trailing behind. Once the shock wears off, Nancy sets off running and screaming at Mike to give it back. Lucas and Dustin are just quick to exit so they can watch the Wheelers duke it out on the lawn.

“Uh bye mom” Jonathan quickly bids as he departs to diffuse the tension.

When he gets out front Will and Mike are playing monkey in the middle with Nancy, while Lucas and Dustin watch in amazement.

“You were supposed to stop stealing my things Mike” Nancy shouts, as the tape somehow soars over her head.

“Knock it off Mike” Jonathan commands, sneaking up behind the boy.

Almost immediately, Mike hands the tape to Jonathan and heads for the car. In a way, it’s nice to know that he still has some respect among the boys. They pile into his car, and Nancy takes advantage of her middle seat squeezing into him as he drives them back across town. When they drop off Dustin, Will switches to the backseat excitedly chatting away with Lucas and Mike. But Nancy doesn’t move from her spot, which he really doesn’t mind but it’s distracting a little. Especially since she’s carefully caressing the edge of her mixtape like it’s the most precious thing in the world. Somehow, he safely navigates to the Sinclairs and the boys exchange goodbyes.

When they arrive at the Wheelers, Mike quickly exits the car, dragging Will with him to show him a comic or something. The door slams and they run across the yard before Jonathan can protest. He hesitates but decides to turn the engine off. Nancy takes this as a sign to lean her head on his shoulder. He does his best to accommodate by wrapping his arm around her so she can scoot in.

Against his better judgement, he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and imagines they're at the drive-in instead of her driveway. And even though he knows that it's a test of her patience, it's a peaceful thought. Maybe when life calms down and he can be away from home longer than the school day, they can go to the one in Marion. He just wishes he knew when exactly that's going to be. Hawkins has always felt like a prison, but now mom is the warden.

"So what's up with the hamburger helper?” Nancy questions her hot breath waltzing along his neck, bringing him back down to earth.

"Hmm” he says, trying to linger in outer space just a little longer.

"Earlier, you seemed” she stalls. He peaks his eyes open to see her, brow furrowed, trying to decide the right word. She’s big on picking the exact right word lately.

“Unsatisfied” she decides, and he almost congratulates her for correctly assessing the situation.

"I just don't like it, that's all” Jonathan responds with a sigh.

She makes what can only be described as a displeased hmph and if he didn’t know it meant she wanted a better answer he’d think it was adorable.

Where to begin with his personal hatred of that boxed dinner? Maybe 1974? That was the year mom made Tuna Helper practically every other night because they were so poor it was all they could afford. If he thinks too much about the smell it’ll make him gag. He’s pretty sure that the only reason she stopped making it was because Lonnie threw a plate at the wall behind Will’s highchair. At least he thinks that was the reason but the memory is muddle, blurring together with a lifetime of unsatisfying dinners and always at the center is stupid, fucking Hamburger Helper.

It was what she made when he skinned his knee during tee ball and Lonnie called him a pussy for the first time, it was what she made when he misspelled mnemonic and lost the spelling bee in fifth grade, it was what she made the night Lonnie left for the last time. It haunts their kitchen like an unsavory poltergeist, conveniently showing up when he’s at his lowest.

"I hate the Italian flavor.” He begins, and she perks up, no doubt excited to hear him elaborate for once “It tastes like-like cardboard and tomato paste and-and unseasoned ground beef and she never drains all the fat all the way even though I’ve told her just to put a paper towel in the colander like your mom does. But she doesn’t listen, so then the sauce won’t, like, blend and it doesn’t matter because It’s somehow always undercooked or-or soupy every time.”

“Wow!” she exhales “Didn’t know you felt that strongly”

“I just really don’t like it” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose and then running a hand through his hair.

“Noted”

Quiet grows again, and he can sense her unease. He shouldn’t have shared so much. It’s weird. He’s weird.

“What's your favorite food?” she suddenly asks before he can apologize.

Jonathan pauses thinking it over. He’s not sure anyone’s asked him that since Will. Even then it was more him telling Will how much he liked broccoli so he’d eat it too.

“I like breakfast foods… bacon,eggs, pancakes, French toast.” he lists off.

“But are they your favorite?” Nancy pleads, “Like if you're having your last meal ever, is it breakfast?” she wonders.

“No, maybe, I don’t know” he answers, he’s never really thought about it.

“I’d have chicken parmesan, mom’s snickerdoodles and a cherry coke” she informs, clearly she has thought about it.

He huffs out a laugh thinking of just how many cherry cokes he made when she visited him at the hawk last summer. She swore up and down that no one else mixed them right. It didn’t matter if he was on tickets, or in the projection room, or sweeping the lobby. She found him each time she took the boys to see Ghostbusters and bat her lashes until he agreed.

“If I were on death row you know” Nancy elaborates, justifying her choices.

“Do you anticipate being on death row?” Jonathan snarks, laughing at the thought of her in an orange jumpsuit.

“Well, if I am at least I’m prepared” she defends, proudly.

“Meatloaf I guess” he decides.

“Just meatloaf?” Nancy questions, wrinkling her nose again.

“No, I'm not that weird. Mashed potatoes too, maybe some broccoli” he suggests.

“Broccoli?”

“What? Do you want me to have a favorite vegetable?” he questions and she laughs.

“I have one” she admits, doodling shapes on his knee.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously, tomatoes they're versatile…or carrots.” Nancy informs, and he laughs.

“Potatoes” he decides.

“Potatoes?”

“Yea, they’re versatile” Jonathan teases, tilting his head down to look at her.

“You’re so-”

But he doesn’t find out what he is because Mrs. Wheeler conveniently picks that moment to flick the front porch light on, conveniently catching both of their attentions.

“I should go before she invites you in” she resigns with a small pout.

Nancy detaches herself, glances at his mouth and then looks up at him expectantly. He can’t help but smile, as if he would ever forget to kiss her goodnight. Jonathan raises his hand, gently cups her jaw and leans in. He can feel her smile against lips and a warmth fills his chest. She winds her hands behind his neck and it takes every ounce of willpower he has not to get lost in her kiss. He breaks away before they take things too far and Mrs. Wheeler comes knocking on the window. Nancy sighs and he mimics the sound to make her laugh.

“Well if you’ll excuse me, I have a hot date with Cary Grant” She jokes and he breathes out a laugh.

“I wish I did too” he laments, and she raises a brow. “Or uh that you didn’t or-”

“We could stick to our plans?” she suggests, surmising his thoughts.

“Yea”

“Yea”

Nancy frowns, then affectionately caresses his cheek. He takes a deep breath, leans into her touch and swears he feels his heart skip a beat. He’s not sure what he did to deserve her sweetness, her light, but he’s grateful to bask in her warmth even if only for a moment.

At least until Will opens the passenger door.

“Sorry” he mutters “But mom…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence but Jonathan, and Nancy, understand the sentiment. If they aren’t home soon she’ll call or worse show up. Nancy whispers a final goodbye, collects her things, shimmies her way out of the car and all of a sudden everything feels colder. Will trades places, but Nancy keeps a hold on the door.

“You should try counting sheep” she recommends.

“What?”

“Tonight, if you can’t sleep” she explains, with a smile.

“Ok” he agrees, furrowing his brow and her smile grows, lighting up her whole face in the way that makes him miss her already. Will looks from him to Nancy and back again raising a brow. Jonathan swears he hears him mumble ‘so weird’.

“Call me when you get home” Nancy requests, still stalling the end of their day.

“I will” he nods with a small smile.

Nancy nods and finally lets go of her hold on the door and Will quickly slams it shut. Jonathan turns back on the car but waits for her to get into the house, desperately wishing he could follow her.

“What do you even like about her?” Will asks, harsher than normal, as they drive down Maple.

“Who?”

“Nancy” Will responds like it’s obvious.

“I mean she’s smart, kind, she likes New Order and she’s cool you know ” he summarizes, trying to keep his list short.

“No she isn’t” Will argues, turning up the music before Jonathan can defend himself.

Later that night, Jonathan’s staring at his ceiling again, he’s supposed to be counting sheep. He promised Nancy he’d try to count sheep. She’s worried about him not sleeping and he’s worried about her worrying. What a match. He shuts his eyes trying to imagine a sheep, but it appears distorted; a sheep’s body with the head of a demogorgon. He flings his eyes back open just as he hears some rustling outside. Maybe he's imagining things or maybe the Demogorgon is back to actually kill him this time.

He rolls over trying to convince himself it's just a deer even though it's the dead of winter. He swears he hears a twig snap. Maybe he’s just hearing things, maybe the gate didn’t fully close and this is it. He breathes deep, trying to calm himself down but something clacks against the glass.

Seventeen years of life and only a handful of decent photos to show for it. He wonders what they’ll say at his funeral. ‘Here lies Jonathan D. Byers, he lived and died in a one horse town and never did anything important with his life’

“Shit” his assailant exclaims from the other side of his window.

Except, his would-be murderer sounds an awful lot like his girlfriend. But that’s silly, Nancy’s home… in bed...asleep…like a normal person. He sits up, clicks on his nightstand lamp and the sounds from outside still. Ok so, maybe he's just afraid of the dark now and doesn't want to admit it. He sighs just as there's another rap on the window. Maybe there’s a perfectly normal non-nyctophobia explanation for all of this.

Cautiously, he slips out of bed to investigate. Maybe he’s just imagining Nancy being there as some weird psychological comfort thing before he dies. Not that he really wants to die, he really wants to finish Bright Lights, Big City. The window rattles and a part of him wishes he still had the nail bat. Holding his breath, he gingerly pushes aside his makeshift curtains.

Revealing Nancy on the other side of the frosted glass looking startled. He opens his window trying not to shiver too hard when the cold comes in.

“What are you doing?” he hisses, his breath turning to puffs in the frigid air.

“Sleepover” Nancy shrugs, before dropping something and attempting to vault herself through.

But even on her tiptoes the ledge is just a little too tall. Awkwardly, Jonathan helps pull her through the window before quickly shutting the window again. By the time he turns back around, she’s laying her winter coat on his chair and untying her boots. His mind starts racing, he doesn’t want her to leave but sleeping over seems like a really dumb idea. But then Nancy pulls off her jeans and any intelligent thoughts he had fly away.

“Do you have a shirt I can borrow?” she asks nonchalantly, like she’s looking for an extra pencil.

“Drawer” he murmurs, barely remembering the word.

She riffles through the drawer while he tries to remember how to think. Unexpectedly, she turns around, a slightly empty bottle of vodka in her hand.

“What’s this doing in here?” she questions, feigning a dramatic scandal.

“I figured it was better than driving around with it open” he answers with a shrug.

Over break, they snuck out to the woods partly to stargaze with his secondhand telescope and partly to try and convince themselves there’s nothing to be afraid of. It was her idea to pull out the vodka for their late night picnic. When he finally got home, all his tipsy brain could rationalize was that it was better to hide it away where no one could find it rather than run the risk of Hopper searching his car. He’s not sure why he thought Hopper would search his car, but the bottle found a home in his dresser anyway.

“You know, I’m starting to think you’re a bad influence” Nancy jokes with a bright smile, she hands him the bottle and turns back to the drawer.

As she rummages through his dresser, he takes a seat on the edge of the bed and tries to stash the vodka underneath without taking his eyes off of her. It’s like she has him in a trance, like he has to watch her only to convince himself he isn’t dreaming. Finally, she pulls out his white thermal and starts lifting up her top. Suddenly, he averts his gaze, focusing on his evil dead poster, heat floods his face as he realizes how rude it was to ogle in the first place.

“It's ok to look, you know” Nancy teases.

“Um, yeah right ok” he responds, shaky.

He turns his head back, but she's already fully changed. His shirt is practically a nightgown on her and she's so cute he can't stand it. She's almost bouncing as she closes the miniscule distance between them. Boldly, she straddles his lap and wraps her arms around his neck. Jonathan breathes hard, maybe he really is going to die.

“Sooooo who do you have a crush on?” Nancy teases, squirming in his lap.

“Very funny” he snarks, taking hold of her hips to steady her.

“C’mon Jonathan this is standard sleepover stuff” she insists with a bright smile.

He opens his mouth but just as he does her shirt, his shirt, falls just below her collarbone and all he can think is how much he’d like to kiss her there. He can feel her watching him with the same intensity he’s using to take in the rise and fall of her chest. With his lips still parted and his mouth bone dry, he cautiously leans forward, laser focused on his target.

All of a sudden, from the wall behind him he hears loud muttering or snoring or bumping or something that makes him jump out of his skin. The weight of his choices come crashing back onto him.This is a bad idea, such a very bad idea, but he can’t let her go.

“Look, Jonathan I can go I just thought…” Nancy offers in a whisper, worming her lip.

“What? No...No It’s freezing out” Jonathan protests.

“Are you sure?”

‘I want you to stay’ is on the tip of his tongue but for whatever reason it won’t come out. Before she can get the wrong idea he frantically nods his head.

“Well then what's the matter?” she worries softly.

“It’s just …my mom’s gonna freak if she finds out” he explains, nervously rubbing circles against her hip.

“Please your mom loves me” she argues, inching closer.

“Yea but… I mean… “ Jonathan pauses, taking a breath “It’s just… it’s not like I’ve ever you know”

“Had a girl over?” Nancy smirks, with the slightest smugness over potentially being the first.

“I’ve never had anybody over” he confesses low.

An odd expression that he can't quite translate crosses Nancy's face. Then she kisses him like it’s her entire reason for living. And all at once he allows himself to forget everything except the

feeling of her lips on his.

In the dawn, his room seems quieter. The crisp air hasn’t found its way into the cocoon of blankets yet, their syncopated breathing is the only sound, even Nancy feels still underneath his arm. In a hazy realization he snaps his eyes open, to find hers fondly gazing back. An amused smile lines her lips, silently teasing him for sleeping in longer than her. Though, it can’t be too late or at least he hopes it isn’t, he doesn’t want to face the responsibilities of daylight yet. Despite the lack of space between them, Jonathan cautiously pulls her in even closer, melting their bodies into one. Careful not to disrupt their serenity, Nancy lifts her hand out from under the covers to face and tenderly traces the fine lines under his eyes with her thumb. He leans into her touch, if he could, he'd bottle this moment up so he could live in it forever.

He loves her. He wonders if she knows already in that way that she always seems to know before he does, if she’s just waiting on him again. Even if she does, he doubts she knows how much. It’s unpredictable and terrifying and wonderful all at once. He’s sure that if he lets it out, neither of them will recover from the weight of it. But he might as well, after all they went down this road together without knowing where they would end up.

“Nancy” he murmurs softly, like a prayer.

“Hmm?” she acknowledges, with bright wide eyes.

‘I love you’ is on the tip of his tongue but before he can get the words out, there’s a loud thud from Will’s room. In a panic, he quickly untangles himself, practically leaping out of bed to go check on his brother. Halfway through throwing on his sweater, he realizes he’s left Nancy hanging.

“Uh.. sorry I..” he stalls, pulling on boxers.

“It’s fine, go make sure he’s ok” she insists, watching him.

“Are you-”

“Jonathan”

“Right.. Yea.. uh,um I’ll be back” he promises, setting off.

But deep down he knows that the interruption has ruined the early morning magic. The hallway is even colder than he thought, he yawns and blinks trying to shake off any remnants of sleep. Before he can make it to Will’s room, Mom’s door flies open, startling him. But his shock doesn’t even seem to register for her and he wonders if she realizes he’s here at all.

“Will? Baby?” Mom calls out as she pushes the door open.

Jonathan stands behind her peering into the room to get a glimpse. Will is tangled in his blankets on the floor, his hair a haphazard mess, shirt collar in disarray and he’s barely aware he’s awake. Gently, he grabs for mom’s elbow as if to warn her he’s about to speak.

“You alright buddy?” Jonathan asks quietly.

“I fell” he acknowledges, his voice thick with sleep.

“I can see that”

“Are you hurt? Do you need help?” Mom frets, inching into the room.

“No” Will yawns “No go back to bed”

Jonathan takes that as his cue to leave but mom lingers in the doorframe, watching with baited breath.

“You can go back to sleep, I’ll watch out for him” he whispers, grabbing the door knob and slowly shutting the door

“Are you sure?” she asks, like he hasn’t been doing it since he was four.

“Yea it’s fine” he shrugs, doing his best impression on a nonchalant person and not someone who’s panicking she’lll somehow figure out he’s hiding Nancy in his room.

Briefly, their eyes meet and it’s as though, instinctively, she knows he’s hiding something but her mind can’t process the information. Like they’re speaking the same language but she’s mistranslating. There was a time, when he was very young, that he could breathe wrong and she would know what was on his mind. It was easier then. Now with every passing year the space between them only seems to grow. How much longer until she’s completely forgotten his language completely? He darts his eyes away, too uncomfortable with the pain to look any longer.

“Ok Sweetie” she resigns at last and he breathes easier, “Thank you” she tacks on as an after thought.

“Yea, yea of course” he nods, waiting for her to retreat.

As soon as the lock clicks, he practically sprints back to his own room holding out some hope that Nancy is still snug in his bed. But when he opens the door, she’s sitting on the edge of his bed pulling her boots back on. He sighs, their slumber party is over and it’s time to go back to the real world.

“Everything ok?” Nancy questions earnestly as she ties her laces.

“Yea, yea he fell” he recounts with a light laugh.

“Ah”

She rises and his heart sinks. Maybe he can convince her to stay for coffee, they could lie and say she came over for breakfast. But it’ll probably just make more problems if she’s not at her own table. Nancy encroaches into his space and wraps her arms around his neck. Jonathan kisses her forehead almost reflexively. Is this what their life would be like five, ten, fifteen years from now? Or are they just on borrowed time outrunning the chaos of life? How much longer until it catches up with them?

“Drive me home?” she asks, sweetly like she can sense his nervousness and knows he needs a distraction.

“Yea” Jonathan nods, even though, despite his worry, he doesn’t want to let go.

A couple days later, when the snow is finally sticking instead of withering away into mush, he's back in Miss Kelly's office staring at a photo of her and who he's guessing are her siblings in front of what he recognizes as the Epcot Center from the commercials. It must have been sunny when they went because the lighting is shit, if he were nicer, more invested in their relationship he'd tell her that you get better photos on overcast days. But he's not, so he doesn't.

Jonathan strums his fingers on his knees and looks around for something new to stare at for the next half hour. The hanging plant in the window that looks like it won’t survive the winter catches his attention. He almost feels bad for it, the leaves half wilted in various shades of yellow and brown, clearly unsuited for the climate of Hawkins. ‘It’s a fucking plant’ Lonnie criticizes in his mind and he frowns. He shakes his head, trying to push his voice back down.

“Something wrong?” Miss Kelly asks, clicking her pen.

“No uh no” he insists, because ‘aren’t you supposed to know’ feels a little too mean.

He stares back at the plant and somehow it looks even more depressing. Is she even taking care of it at all?

“Jonathan?” Miss Kelly calls, the same way mom, Will and Nancy do when he’s in his own head.

“Mmm” he responds, apathetically.

“How are you, really?”

“I’m fine… I-I miss working. But other than that, I’m fine, really” Jonathan offers, trying not to give her too much.

It's not exactly a lie, ever since Nancy asked he really hasn't been able to get the thought out of his head. It's not like he missed the burnt popcorn or sticky floors, just the small cushion that his income gave them.

Lately, he feels like he's been counting every nickel and dime to make sure they scrape by. Even then, he's seriously considering going around to some of the more elderly Hawkins residents and offering to shovel their driveways for five bucks. Otherwise, he has no idea how they're going to afford a Christmas tree, let alone the Star Wars game Will’s been asking for since July.

As much as he'd rather spend his free time with Nancy, he'll have to go back to work in the spring. He's run the numbers over and over and there's simply no other way around it. Especially not with the way Will's been eating lately. He's sure that a growth spurt is just around the corner.

“You worked at the Hawk but quit to help around the house right?” she recalls.

“Yea”

“When did you start working?” Ms. Kelly asks calmly, and he stares at the ceiling wondering what that has to do with anything.

“I dunno” Jonathan answers.

She gazes across the desk expectantly, waiting for him to reach into the recesses of his mind for the first time he offered to mow someone’s lawn.

“Will was six maybe” he sighs.

“So you were” she elongates, trying to do the math herself.

“Nine” he blurts and her eyes go wide, "Or ten” he corrects like that will miraculously make his child labor better.

“That’s pretty young” she remarks, trying to sound like she isn't once again mortified by his upbringing.

“I guess” Jonathan shrugs, but there’s a stiffness growing in his shoulders.

“You didn't feel young?” she questions, calmly.

He glares at her, he doesn’t mean to but really how the fuck does he answer that? Of course he felt young. He felt young when he had to wake up at the crack of dawn for his paper route. He felt young every time he scraped his hands doing yard work. He felt young when he was bumming rides off of his coworkers at the Hawk and hanging around parties he had no business attending. But none of that changes anything.

“I don't know” he lies instead of losing his cool.

“Why'd you start?”

“Hmm”

“Working?” Miss Kelly clarifies.

Was she serious? She knows about his family. How little they could afford even when Lonnie was around. Although, thinking back, he’s pretty sure that was the year Lonnie left around Halloween and didn’t show back up until New Year’s. What he really remembers is spending his free time with Will at the Wheeler’s and that he …

“I wanted a lego castle” he says softly, admitting it to himself more than her.

Miss Kelly silently encourages him to continue. But it’s hard, like there’s a fuzzy edge around the memories.

“For me and Will, you know?... We loved that stuff and my parents… they couldn't afford it… it had like eight hundred pieces so I figured I could do some odd jobs…. and just get it myself” he recounts, his breath shaky like a weight is pressing on his chest.

“Did you ask?” she questions, placidly.

“What?” he gapes.

“Your parents. Did you ask them for the lego set?” she elaborates.

“No” Jonathan laughs nervously, his throat suddenly feels incredibly dry “I mean it's like I said they couldn't afford it” he jokes, wetting his lips.

“So why bother asking,” Miss Kelly surmises.

“Exactly!” He exclaims.

“Mmm”

But he’s learned that ‘Mmm’ is never a good thing with her. She’s not agreeing, she’s thinking, taking in all the information she pried out of him and making her own judgements. He braces himself for impact, honing in his focus on the plant in the window. He wonders if he should remind her to take it home before break or if it’s too late for the little guy.

“Jonathan” She demands his attention, “Was that the first time you didn’t ask for something you really wanted?”

He takes a deep breath, trying to dig through his memories to find a source. The root of his denial of his own desires. But it all blurs together. They can only afford two tickets to Star Wars so of course mom and Will should go. Nancy Wheeler has a beautifully illustrated world atlas that he doesn’t dare ask to borrow. He doesn't have any spare change for a brownie at the bake sale and Byers don't beg. His old jeans are fine even though everyone at school has new corduroys. He really doesn't like the way his shampoo smells but it's the cheapest. Steve Harrington’s mom picks up her son from school and he's filled with a jealousy so hot that it keeps him warm the entire walk home.

“No” he mutters, willing himself to push back down his discomfort.

“When was the last time you let yourself want something?” she inquires.

Suddenly, his worst moments are swept away by Nancy looking at him with shiny incredulous eyes and her lips parted just so.

“When I kissed Nancy” he mumbles at the floor.

Except unlike Nancy or mom, Ms. Kelly is exceptionally good at picking up his whispering. Seriously, someone should test her for super hearing.

“Why do you think that was?” she presses.

Jonathan glances back up wondering exactly how he's supposed to answer that. Maybe it was the imminent threat of the end of the world, maybe it was every stranger they met prying into their personal lives, maybe he’s just a stupid, horny seventeen year old.

“I don't know, I just… really wanted to kiss her” he answers before pausing. “I think… I knew that if I didn't then..I was never going to… So I had to, at least once.” he pieces together, ignoring the rolling in his stomach.

“You didn’t want to let the moment pass you by and regret it” she nods, succinctly.

“Yea”

“Do you regret not asking for the other things you wanted?” she poses.

Jonathan hesitates trying to imagine a world where he unwrapped the LEGO castle on Christmas, or his mom chaperoned his fifth grade field trip, or he kissed Nancy a year ago. But it all seems so pointless, Miss Kelly just doesn't get that his life has limitations and there’s no point ruminating over what's been done.

“Even if I do, it doesn't change anything” he argues, his voice cracking.

Judging by her dropping shoulders, thin mouth and watery eyes he determines that was the wrong answer. Jonathan opens his mouth to try and explain it better. To make her see that it's ok. Really. But before he can get the words out the egg timer on her desk buzzes bringing their session to a screeching halt.

They go through the motions of booking another appointment and he takes one final look at her sad plant before he rejoins the hustle and bustle of Hawkins High.

When Nancy’s eyes meet his, she worms her lip, and he wonders when she got so good at reading him. Still, she doesn’t pry, even though a small part of him wants her to. Somehow knowing that she’s worried and curious but not questioning is worse than if she had a full blown investigation into his sessions. He imagines her breaking into the school in the dead of night to read his file and it’s almost funny enough to push down his guilt over not letting her in.

“Where do you wanna have lunch?” Jonathan asks once they reach his locker.

“I have to interview Chrissy about the toy drive for the paper” she laments with a frown.

“Oh” he exhales, barely able to hide his disappointment.

Chrissy, alone, is fine. She’s sweet even and Nancy has equally soft and sore spot for their past friendship. But Chrissy at lunch means the cafeteria, and as much as he loves Nancy he’s not about to sit at a table full of cheerleaders or Jason and the rest of the basketball team or even worse, Billy.

“Yea I know, but I’ll see you in history” she promises with a bright smile, like they’ll be alone and not reviewing the fall of the confederacy.

“I’ll see you in history” he agrees, shutting his locker.

He's not sure what comes over him but he kisses her as a temporary goodbye. It's not nearly as long as he'd like but it's not entirely insignificant either. When he pulls away, Nancy is clearly taken aback. They swore up and down they weren't going to be one of those couples but now he's keenly aware of Robin judging them. Judging her.

“Have a good lunch” Nancy bids, clearly still flustered.

Jonathan watches her walk away and he can’t help but feel like he should join her in the cafeteria and beg for forgiveness for his indiscretion. Suddenly, she turns around, disrupting hallway traffic and catching his attention.

“Oh and we have Yearbook today don’t forget” she reminds with a smile and a nod.

He nods back, captivated by her shape until she rounds a corner. He shakes it off, like it’ll stop the staring. He spends lunch in the quiet of the library where all friendless students go. There’s almost something nostalgic about it. Although, it’s lonelier than before. He actually knows what he’s missing now. And where once the stacks were cozy and inviting there’s a chill in the aisles now. But he does his best to ignore it.

For the rest of the day, it feels like all eyes are on him as he moves through the school. Who knew one kiss would cause this much fuss? Nancy, for all his worrying, doesn’t seem too mad that he got them into this mess. She arrives to History early to animatedly recall her lunch, she holds his hand during the passing period until they have to part for electives and she even volunteers to help him in the dark room during Yearbook.

Though Nancy’s idea of helping is sitting on the counter, making quips and singing whatever song is stuck in her head until she forgets the lyrics and starts over again. Though he’s starting to wonder if there actually is another verse in Like a Virgin. She always seems to lose her place after ‘you’re so fine and you’re mine’. If it were anyone else he’d be annoyed but since it’s Nancy he finds himself unusually happy with her antics.

It helps that for the most part, he actually enjoys Yearbook. In the grand scheme of after school activities it's pretty tame. He really doesn't even do too much, once a week Mrs. Hernandez hands him a list of events to photograph, he shoots a couple pictures, develops and turns them in for someone else to work into a layout. If it weren't for Nancy insisting she needs to tag along it'd be a pretty solitary activity.

For some reason, back in September, she cornered him after English class and demanded he join. While he was hesitant at first, it only took her three days to finally wear him down. What finally sold him was the promise that it would look great on his college application.

Though now, he's pretty sure that any college isn't really going to care that he took photos of marching band competitions in his spare time but it's a good portrait experience nevertheless. Plus, it's one less thing for Miss Kelly to needle him over.

Jonathan's positive that if she found out about his after school activities, or lack thereof she'd get to work finding some awful club for him to join. Or worse a team sport.

It's not that he didn't try to join clubs. In freshman year he played the drums in Band, poorly. And up until last fall he ran cross country, less poorly. But whatever social camaraderie, team bonding or overall new skills seemed to elude him.

And there were more important things like work. He has a sneaking suspicion that Miss Kelly really would have a field day with that thought. Ever since their session this morning it’s like she’s in his head putting his life experience on trial, forcing him to play the part of a second rate defense attorney.

“Why did you quit drums Jonathan?”

‘Because a set costs as much as our mortgage payment’

“And cross country?”

‘Because meets were on Saturdays and those are the busiest days at the Hawk’

He did like cross country, even if he wasn’t the best runner, there was something freeing about his feet lifting off the ground and the way the wind hit his exposed skin. Maybe he can pick it back up in college, when he has time.

“Careful you might start a fire thinking that hard” Nancy teases, from her makeshift seat on the table.

“Haha very funny”

He’s saved by the egg timer and carefully moves his print from the developer to the stop bath. From her perch, Nancy makes a displeased huff as he moves the print along, undoubtedly upset at how long the process is taking. While he relishes in each methodical step, Nancy has admitted more than once she doesn’t have the patience. He twists the timer, more for her benefit than his, he’s long since memorized when to take photos out of the fixer but she likes the visual reminder.

The first time she followed him into the dark room, she seemed to ask every single question she could think of. He’s since learned that’s just her inquisitive nature. Sometimes, spending time with her is more like playing Jeopardy, except only she knows the categories and if he answers wrong he runs the risk of losing a lot more than a couple hundred dollars.

“Penny for your thoughts” she finally requests softly. Gently trying to coax into playing her game.

“Just stuff with Miss Kelly” he answers with a shrug.

Jonathan doesn’t even have to look at her to tell she’s not satisfied. He can practically hear her lips parting before she’s cut off by the timer. He quickly moves to avoid her under the guise of rinsing and drying the prints. The second she looks at him all his words will come stumbling out no matter how stupid they are. Still, he can feel her watching him and he’s compelled to turn around and look at her.

As he gazes on, he can't help but think about what an interesting picture she’d make. On the edge of her seat, swinging her legs, her cream oversized sweater washed with red light, bobbing her head to some music only she can hear.

“Didn’t know how lost I was-”

“I don’t know… she, uh , she thinks I work too hard or something” he rambles out to avoid her rendition of Madonna.

“Hmmm” she buzzes, lifting her brows.

“You agree?”

“I didn't say that” she dismisses, avoiding his eyes.

“Yea but you do” he asserts.

Nancy opens her mouth, but must rethink how she wants to phrase whatever she’s about to say. Jonathan rocks on his heels and wonders if she knows she has him held captive. He’s never been one to really care what other people think of him but this matters. She matters.

“I think… you had a lawn mowing empire at thirteen” Nancy teases softly. She smiles and the knots unwind in his stomach.

“It wasn't an empire” he defends in a grumbly huff.

“No, no, just entire neighborhoods soliciting your business” Nancy jokes with a smirk.

“Your mom started that actually” He informs, crossing his arms.

“Really?” she questions, tilting her head. But there’s something off about her expression like it’s not entirely sincere.

“Yea I think she was pregnant and your dad was out of town so she paid me like four dollars” he recalls quietly.

“Wow”

“I know” he laughs, running a hand through his hair.

“Who knew mowing lawns was so lucrative?” Nancy muses with a grin.

“What? No, no my prices were way lower.” He insists, almost offended, that she thinks he’d charge that much “I'm pretty sure I undercut the McNally twins by like fifty cents” Jonathan explains with a handwave.

“Ah so you were a shrewd businessman” She teases, nodding like she’s saving the information for later. She’d never lose at Jeopardy.

“They were committing highway robbery” he asserts with a grin and her laugh echoes through the dark room.

Instinctively, he checks on his prints, gently pulling them down from the line and tucking them into the manilla folder. He’s not sure how they managed to finish early, maybe Nancy’s more helpful than he gave her credit for. He quickly tidies up the workspace, hoping to use the most of their extra time before remembering it’s pointless considering they have to wait for the boys to finish AV Club.

“So what did you do with it?” Nancy questions as he’s washing his hands.

“Hmmm?”

He scans around for towels, but can’t find any so he dries his hands on his jeans. Out of the corner of his eye he catches her staring and holds her gaze for longer than he should. She fidgets around, attempting to straighten up but rocking on the table more than anything. He swallows, trying to remember what the hell they were talking about.

“Your vast fortune?” she asks, attentively watching as he moves to stand across from her.

“Oh uh-” he wrinkles his brow

What had he done with it? All the money he’d earned since he was nine. It had to go somewhere. He strains to remember, surely some went to Will for comic books and ice creams. Lonnie definitely stole beer money a couple times, he remembers having to find new hiding places before giving up and carrying this money on him constantly. Occasionally, there were things he bought for himself, his turntable, mixtapes, posters and film.

But the rest… the rest snuck its way into couch cushions, or the glove box, the bottom of the laundry hamper. Places mom could pocket the money from and wouldn't question who's extra cash it was.

Then when he turned fourteen and got his job at the Hawk, mom took him down to the Old National Bank and they opened his account. She ruffled his hair and told him he’d be able to save up for college faster this way. She was so proud, like she honestly believed a kid like him had a shot of making it to NYU. Like he could make that dream a reality. Like he wouldn’t have to help out with bills, or repairs for his car, or field trip money for Will. Now, at the rate things are going he’ll be lucky if he can afford night classes at Roane County Community.

“Saved it for a rainy day” he lies to not upset her.

“Has it rained?” she asks, with an almost childlike innocence. It hits him like a ton of bricks that she doesn’t think about these things. That she has an allowance, a credit card for emergencies, any leftover change goes into the piggy bank on her dresser.

“No I guess not” he shrugs, trying to swallow his envy back down. Nancy frowns, unsatisfied with that answer.

Jonathan straightens up, inching towards her, closing the distance between them. When he’s directly in front of her, she reaches out to wrap her arms around his neck like she’s trying to tug him in, like she wants something.

“But you know when it does I'll take you out for a nice dinner” he promises with a grin, softly placing his hand on her waist. She looks away from his eyes to stare at his mouth longingly and he almost laughs. Even though he knows he’s not supposed to notice when she does that.

“I'd like that” she whispers, at last pulling him down for a kiss.

Her lips are unbelievably soft against his own, and he thinks for as many times as they do this he’lll never quite get over that. Heat burns through his veins as she deepens their kiss. His legs feel like jello and he grips his right hand onto her hip for some sense of stability. But his hand slips on her sweater and falls onto the table. He practically crashes into her from the momentum but it only spurs her on more. There’s a tightness building in his jeans and on some level he knows what they’re doing is stupid. But he can’t find the brain cells to care.

Nancy breaks away to catch her breath and Jonathan trails his lips down her jaw to the spot on her neck that makes her squirm. Not that he’s supposed to know that either. He kisses her gently, trying not to leave a mark this time.

“Jonathan” she whimpers, and he slides his hand under her sweater.

“Jonathan” she calls, clearer this time, tapping at his shoulder.

He takes the hint and detaches like he’s coming up for air. His jeans are almost painfully tight now, and he tries to adjust without her noticing. But he realizes it’s useless when she darts her eyes down and then back up.

“We should get out of here” she suggests, breathlessly.

Only he's so distracted by her swollen lips it doesn't quite register what she's saying. Why would they leave?

“The boys aren't done with AV club for another like half hour” he reminds her, barely above a whisper.

“So we have half an hour” she proposes, like she can’t believe how much he’s struggling to keep up.

“You wanna go to my car?” he offers, they could take a drive, park down by the woods, pray nobody notices the fogged up windows.

“Yea, yea” she laughs “I think it might be for the best”

It's an awkward sort of half-race to the parking lot, they’re equally eager to continue where they left off and cautious not to get caught. By the time he’s opening the car door, he almost feels like he’s getting away with something. Nancy shudders when she slides in and quickly turns over the ignition so he can turn on the heater.

Only it doesn’t turn over. It sputters. He tries again but the sputtering rattle persists.

“Damn it”

“What? What’s wrong?” She asks, peering over and examining the steering column.

“Nothing just uh, wait here” he advises, quickly exiting the car to shelter her from the wind.

Jonathan does his best to try and ignore the chill as he makes his way to the front of the car. Through the windshield Nancy watches him, her eyebrows pinched together and lips pursed. He sighs, deftly opening the hood partly to figure out the problem and partly so he doesn’t have to see her face. Their plans are ruined and it’s his fault. All because of his stupid ancient car. He leans down, staring into the machinery like whatever’s broken will reveal itself without any effort on his part. Another gust of wind hits and transports him back to that rainy day in Indianapolis, desperately searching the trunk of the car.

‘When you’re older, we’ll get you a real classic, fix her up just you and me, kid’ Lonnie echoes in his head. He scoffs, how many times was he told that lie? It was so easy to believe him back then. He pushes the sunlight days in the shop back to whatever dark nostalgic corner they crawled out of.

He catches Nancy’s attention and motions for her to turn over the ignition. When she does, the engine shakes and there’s a persistent tapping. He signals for her to stop and then he pauses. He swallows, he knows this, it’s basic. Something he learned when he was small. He can see the memory clearly, his dad using a wrench to point out car parts. ‘C’mon Jonathan focus for God’s sake’ Dad shouts and the memory warps to a night at the kitchen table where he’s begging for help with math.

His heartbeat pounds in his and heat warms his face. He gulps down a sharp breath, hoping that the icy air will help somehow. ‘You know what's wrong’ Dad sneers over a beer while the Pacers play on TV. The tapping, the tapping. ‘You really can't do anything for yourself’ Dad explodes when he misses the nail. Jonathan’s breath, rattles like the engine. ‘Just like your mother’ Dad criticizes, halfway out the door for a hunting trip. ‘Weak’ Dad whispers in his ear. His hand on the trigger, tears in his eyes, Little April Shower playing on loop in his head. ‘Worthless piece of shit’

Worthless. Worthless. Worthless. Worthless. Worthless. Worthless. Worthless. Worthless. Worthless. Worthless. Worthless. Worthless. Worthless. Worthless. Worthless. Worthless.

Snow crunches nearby, catching his attention. Mom’s standing next to the driver's side door looking just as lost as ever. He straightens up, tries to readjust his breathing, hoping she didn’t see whatever that was, for her own sake. She doesn’t need to worry about him on top of everything else.

"Oh hey mom” Jonathan greets, clearing his throat “What are you doing here?"

"Picking up Will” she explains. He blinks, he’s supposed to pick up Will on Wednesdays, he really thought she was getting better at letting him go.

“What are you doing?" She asks, like it’s not obvious.

"Uh.. trying to start my car" he huffs with a small awkward laugh.

“Ah” she nods.

Mom moves in closer, examining the parts herself. Although he’s not sure what good that’ll do, unless she conveniently has replacement spark plugs… spark plugs, of course, the answer seems obvious in hindsight, he can't believe it took him this long.

“Yea you don’t have to…” he starts, and she raises a brow “I just- I mean I can do it myself, it’s no big-”

"Hi Mrs. Byers" Nancy greets, startling them both. He had almost forgotten she was here.

"Oh hi Nancy" she acknowledges, and he tries to ignore that she sounds upset.

"I told you to wait in the car, it's too cold" Jonathan frets, he swears the temperature’s dropped another five degrees since they got out here.

“It's fine" Nancy insists with a playful smile.

She sneaks in close and he wonders if she knows about his momentary panic and is trying to comfort him or just wants to be close together. Either way, as long as he doesn’t have to explain, he doesn’t mind. Her presence is soothing like a light at the end of a tunnel. An incredibly dark fucked up tunnel.

"Did you figure out what's wrong? She asks softly, with wide curious eyes. .

Jonathan smiles in spite of himself. Category is auto mechanics.

“Could be the spark plugs” he answers, with a sigh.

“Right and what do they do?” She questions, leaning in closer, practically resting her head on his arm. The wind picks up her shampoo, and the rest of the world fades away.

“It creates a spark” he deadpans and Nancy rolls her eyes.

“Right sorry” he apologizes “Uh basically it ignites the fuel which makes the car-”

“Move” Nancy concludes with a nod, beaming at him.

"I thought you said you didn't know anything about cars" he teases, in a voice that doesn’t quite sound like his own.

A dusty pink creeps into her cheeks and she parts her lips but closes them again. Undoubtedly trying to come up with a clever comeback.

Jonathan can't help feeling mesmerized by her at this moment. With her dark hair, fair skin and pink lips she looks like belongs in a storybook. He's not going to tell her that, he doubts she'd appreciate it much but she's charmed him all the same. A sigh unexpectedly escapes from him and he silently wishes they never left the dark room in the first place.

She catches him staring and smirks, her blue eyes radiating with mirth.

“Well I'm a fast learner" she retorts at last, barely above a whisper.

“Oh yea?” He contends, leaning in closer.

“Have you gone that long without replacing them?” Mom questions and he practically jumps out of his skin. Truthfully, he was so engrossed with Nancy he had forgotten she was even here. He clears his throat and shakes his head slightly, as if trying to break free from her spell.

“Um no” he laughs, nervously running his hand through his hair, “So it might just be because it's cold as shit.” he shrugs.

“It's not that bad” Nancy soothes gently.

“Says you, I could use warming up” Jonathan maintains, in a low whisper, glancing at her lips. Nancy's eyes go wide with scandal.

She looks at him through her lashes and parts her lips to retort but before she can get the words out, the clatter of the gym door brings him back to his senses, he wets his lips, clears his throat, and tries to ignore that mom had to witness whatever that was. It’s the second time he’s broken their no PDA rule in one day, they’re not supposed to be one of those couples. Or at the very least, they’re not supposed to flirt in front of his mom. Not after all the shit he gave her for having Bob over for movie nights and dinners. He gets it now, the thrill of being with someone, the way it consumes you… He should’ve been nicer.

“I guess we’ll leave the car here and we can come back.” Mom decides suddenly, as Will and Mike stomp towards them, laughing about whatever middle school boys find funny these days.

“I don’t want to leave it overnight.” Jonathan argues, the last thing he needs is for someone to vandalize the ‘freak’s’ car. Or worse, half-abandon fixing it like it’s one of her sewing projects.

“Well then, we’ll go to the store and come back. It's fine.” she asserts, exasperated.

Jonathan sighs and rubs his eyes, too tired to fight this time. When he opens his eyes again, Nancy’s looking at him sympathetically, a silent “so much for getting out of here” written all over her face and he wonders how many more times he can wreck their plans before she doesn’t want to make them anymore.

“Hi Mrs. Byers” Mike greets

“Hi Mike, sweetheart” Mom responds, out of the corner of his eye he notices Nancy flinch, reigniting his anxiety.

“Where’s you mom?” She asks, scanning the parking lot like Mrs. Wheeler’s station wagon will appear out of nowhere.

“Oh uh…” Mike stalls and then looks at his sister.

Suddenly, the frigid air is filled with the tension of the four of them having a strange quasi stand off with each other. Will’s eyes flit between him and Nancy, clearly waiting for one of them to let mom know she’s made a mistake. He takes a deep breath and it’s like he can feel all the stress in his shoulders. He’s reminded of a summer afternoon ages ago when Mrs. Wheeler excitedly offered to take them all to The Empire Strikes Back for the first time and none of them had the heart to tell her they had managed to sneak in the day before. By comparison this is a lot simpler explanation, it’s a simple misunderstanding, but somehow he feels like it’ll hurt mom more. Nancy glances at him, worms her lip and then turns her attention to mom.

“I was going to take Mike and Nancy home” Jonathan answers swiftly, clear and direct just in time to cut her off.

“Oh well, I can drop them off” Mom resolves with a small shrug of her shoulders.

“Are you sure?” Nancy questions softly.

“Yes, let's just get in the car” she sighs, clearly annoyed and he can’t help but wonder why she’s bothering at all.

“Shotgun” Will shouts quickly, and Mike groans in response.

Jonathan huffs, trying his best to ignore them as he closes the hood of his car. The three of them march back to mom’s car and Mike and Will’s arguing fills the lot with noise that he’s tuning out. Nancy lingers behind and rubs his arm with a reassuring look, he gives her a small smile for her efforts, if only so he doesn’t give her any more reason to worry. He pulls his bag from the front seat and wonders what her flinching was about as they walk to the pinto. Maybe she’s just uncomfortable being around his mom or something.

“I’ll lend you my copy of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles” he overhears Mike swear as they approach the car.

“Nuh uh, it’s your turn” Will insists, surprising Jonathan. Normally, he’s not quite so insistent about seating arrangements.

“Ugh fine” Mike caves, clearly unhappy about having to sit with them but making his way to the other side of the car.

He’s not sure how Will expects the three of them to fit in the back but he tilts the passenger seat forward anyway. Nancy hands him her bag before crawling in, he ducks his head low and squeezes in, placing both of their bags by his feet, nearly as soon as he’s sat down Will slams the seat back into position, knocking into his knees in the process.

“Hey buddy, can you scoot up?” Jonathan pleads, desperate for even a little extra room.

Maybe he’ll just walk home. He might freeze to death by the time he gets there but-

“Nancy move your butt” Mike screeches, knocking Nancy into Jonathan so he can buckle.

“Seriously Mike?” Nancy retaliates way too loud for the confined space, but she’s jostled again and winds up elbowing him in the side.

“Sorry honey” she whispers frantically, as she fastens her seatbelt.

“It’s fine” he wheezes out, trying not to graze her thigh as he clicks his own belt into place.

Jonathan tries not to focus on the scent of Nancy’s perfume as he awkwardly adjusts in his seat, attempting to find some extra room that simply isn’t there. Mom looks like she’s about to lose it in the front seat and he’s seriously about to offer to stay behind. But then Nancy lifts his arms over her shoulders and presses into his side, her leg practically on top of his. He gets the sense that if she could get away with sitting in his lap she would. While this arrangement gives Mike some extra room, she’s so close he can feel her breathing.

“Everyone buckled?” Mom asks.

They each answer affirmatively and she finally pulls out of the parking lot. With his free hand, he cracks open the window to get some air that isn’t Vanilla scented and Mike glares at him like he’s killed someone. In response, Nancy taps her brother’s arm and a silent outrage crosses his face. Nancy scowls back but Jonathan glowers at both of them before they can start another screaming match. Mike huffs and crosses his arms, Nancy rolls her eyes and leans back into Jonathan and he watches Hawkins go by.

As they pass by the arcade and Will explains the complexity of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, he tries to do the mental math of how much new spark plugs are going to eat into their monthly budget, if he goes to NAPA it’ll cost more but he won’t have to see Ralph so it might be worth it. Underneath the cacophony of comic talk, he hears Nancy sigh and catches her pouting out of the corner of his eye.

Without thinking, he starts rubbing small circles just above her collar bone, like a silent promise that this discomfort will all be over soon enough. Nancy perks up, smiles and he buzzes with the excitement of having done the right thing. Maybe he’s getting the hang of this boyfriend thing afterall.

Then, she nonchalantly places her hand on his thigh and looks at him like she’s an innocent little lamb and not trying to make him lose his mind for fun. She’s playing a dangerous game, one wrong move and this car ride is going to get even more awkward than it already is.

“Jonathan?” Mom calls, trying to catch his attention

“Hmm?” he tones, like he isn’t imagining the last time he was in a backseat with Nancy.

“You never said what you were doing at school this late” Mom questions, in an urgent tone.

“Yearbook” he grunts, as Nancy leans into him when they round the turn.

Her hand, conveniently slipping across his leg. Jonathan clears his throat and Nancy smirks, she’s really going to kill him, for fun. She makes no effort to straighten up, and he tries his best to focus on the chilly air floating in. This is fine, he just needs to calm down and not accidentally traumatize Mike.

‘Think of something boring’ He wills himself… State capitals, those are dull. Montgomery… Nancy reaches up and weaves her free hand with his, flooding the nerve endings with warmth. Juneau…his mind wanders imagining her warm hands clinging to his neck. Phoenix… her warm breath dancing on his skin. Little Rock… Her warm lips kissing the sensitive spot under his jaw.

“Since when are you in the yearbook?” she questions, and something about the judgement in her voice and the absurdity of the questions snaps him out of it.

“Since September?” he reminds her, exasperated. He told her, he knows he told her.

“Yea, Jonathan and I decided to join together at the start of the year. All the other clubs were filling up and I figured he takes such nice photos and I write pretty well and do layout stuff. We thought it’d look good for college, you know?” Nancy elaborates in a nervous rapid-fire.

Mom sighs clearly annoyed, Nancy worms her lip and he feels an overwhelming need to defend his girlfriend. Even though he knows she’s fully capable of defending herself.

“I’ve told you.” he insists, a little harsher than he means to.

“Right, right of course I must’ve just forgotten” she agrees softly nodding and his stomach churns with guilt almost immediately.

What the hell is he thinking? Mom has a lot more to concern herself with than his stupid extracurriculars.

“Mom?” Will asks, breaking the tension.

“Yea”

“What’s for dinner?” He follows up, as Jonathan focuses on a patch of upholstery on the headrest that’s wearing down.

“I’m thinking Hamburger Helper does that sound good?” she responds, just as Nancy grabs his hand so he doesn't make a bigger hole in the fabric.

Too late, he registers what’s been said and an unintentional groan escapes from him. Nancy and Mike both stare at him wide eyed and he almost laughs.

“Jonathan?”

“Yea uh yea that’s fine mom.” he acquiesces, maybe if he moves enough food around she won’t notice if he doesn’t eat dinner.

Quietly, Nancy lowers their hands but doesn’t let go, it’s an awkward handhold more of a covering really. But there’s something undeniably cozy about the warmth of her hand over his, like being tucked into a pillowfort and reading The Hobbit to Will on a winter night ages ago.

Suddenly, mom blasts the radio and he almost jumps from the noise. She hates having music on in the car, says it’s too distracting, they had a fight about it a few years ago it seemed monumental at the time. If only he had known then.

Next to him, Nancy happily hums along to Angel of the Morning and Mike looks at her equal parts annoyed and exhausted.

“Just touch my cheek before you leave me baby” she sings softly practically into his chest and Jonathan huffs out a laugh.

“What?” Nancy questions, all smiles.

“Nothing” he answers in a low whisper.

“I like this song” she defends.

“Of course you do” he teases. The cheesy lyrics and poppy melodies are right up her alley.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks.

“Nothing” he insists with a little laugh.

“Oh come on just tell me” she whines, rubbing his hand.

Mike lets out a loud groan just as they reach the Wheeler’s. He flings his seatbelt off and catapults himself out of the car before Mom really finishes coming to a stop.

“See you Will” he bids, leaving Nancy and Jonathan in the dust.

“Yea see ya later” Will responds.

“So I’ll call you later?” Nancy reminds, inching onto the middle seat but not getting out just yet.

“Yea” Jonathan nods.

“Ok”

“Ok… bye” he hesitates, glancing at her mouth. She’ll just have to make due without a goodbye kiss.

“Bye”

“Nancy come on” Mike hollers, waiting for his sister on the lawn.

Nancy rolls her eyes, squeezes his hand one last time and slowly makes her way out of the car. She stands in the doorframe, giving him a once over. Then she bites her lip, like she’s holding something back. But whatever it is she drops it.

“Bye” she whispers, tenderly gazing at him.

“Bye” Jonathan repeats, just as soft.

A few hours later, he’s standing in the aisle of Ralph’s auto parts much to his chagrin. Mom insisted on not wasting the extra money at NAPA and now here he is staring at the boxes of spark plugs like he doesn’t know exactly which ones to buy. He really should hurry up, mom’s waiting in the car and it’s supposed to snow again tonight. He sighs, tells himself to stop being stupid and grabs the box.

“How’d you know which ones to pick?” Will asks, with genuine curiosity as he hovers by his elbow.

“Uh I’ve fixed it before” he explains, quickly moving towards checkout.

Will practically bounces next to him, blissfully unaware of his stress or maybe just happy to be out past six-thirty. As they enter the checkout Will swipes a bag of skittles and he almost tells him to put them back before remembering that this is his and Will’s compromise candy, a weird not quite in-between Twizzlers and Reese’s Pieces. Will looks at him with big puppy dog eyes and he briefly wonders if he and Nancy have been taking lessons before he nods.

Will places his purchase on the counter with a wide smile and Jonathan ruffles his hair out of habit. For the briefest second, when some teen he vaguely recognizes is telling him his total he thinks he’s gotten away with it scott free.

“Johnny boy, I thought that was you!”

All of his gears stop, and a metallic taste fills his mouth. No one’s called him that since he was nine. Foolishly ignoring his instinct to run, he turns around and sure enough, Ralph Esposito is looking back at him with a shit eating grin. He tries to remember the last time they saw Ralph, if Will would even recognize him, but his memories are as transparent as muddy water.

“Hi Mr.Esposito” Jonathan chokes out through, trying to remember his manners and greet Lonnie’s oldest friend.

“What brings you in here?” Ralph questions, looking from him to Will and then back again.

Jonathan’s empty stomach churns. He knows that look, it’s the same one Lonnie used to have when Will would do something as innocent as draw. He doubts that Ralph is going to call his little brother a fag in the middle of the store but his jaw clentches all the same.

“Spark plugs” he answers, short and succinct. He puts a hand on Will’s shoulder in an attempt to steer him out of the story to the safety of mom’s car.

“Giving you trouble? You know I could-”

“No. No it’s fine I got it” He insists, harsh and definite, he has no desire to let Ralph gain an in.

“Of course. Will’s gonna help right? He has steady hands?” Ralph laughs, casually cruel the same way it sounded when his dad was calling him a pussy for crying over that rabbit.

Then, Ralph pauses, waiting for Jonathan to join in on the fun. Like he’d insult his own brother to earn brownie points with Lonnie’s drinking buddy. For the briefest second, Ralph sneers at Will, and Jonathan swallows hard, fighting the impulse that caused him to punch Steve last fall. Will breathes shaky, unambiguously aware of exactly what Ralph is implying. Jonathan tightens his grip on his shoulder, wordlessly nods and turns them towards the exit.

“Hey, how’s your old man?” Ralph questions before they can get out, and Jonathan wonders if he’s looking for a fight.

“Wouldn’t know” he spits out, and he can feel Will shrink, somehow blaming himself for Lonnie being a deadbeat.

“Well that’s a damn shame” he sighs, shaking his head.

“Look, Ralph I’m sorry but we gotta go, Will has a test in the morning, I gotta fix my car” Jonathan excuses, more than ready to leave.

“Our mom is waiting” Will elaborates, innocently.

“Well” Ralph sneers and shrugs his shoulders, “Give her my best, Jon”

“Yea, sure” he lies, trying to mask a scowl.

“I thought you didn’t like when people called you that” Will asks earnestly, not loud enough for Ralph to hear, but not low enough to really be a whisper.

“I don’t” he grumbles, rushing Will out of the store, content to leave the past behind them. When they reach the car, mom looks at them wide-eyed as they pile in.

“What took so long?” she questions as he buckles his seatbelt

“Uh nothing they had to get it from the back is all” he lies, catching Will’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

She nods, driving away, he gets lost looking at the warm, deceptive, winter glow of Hawkins. In the back of his mind, Lonnie informs him he’s the man of the house. He can’t even place when or why Lonnie would tell him that but he knows it’s a real memory. He nearly scoffs, he can barely keep Will safe from the local bigots, let alone the actual monsters in this town. A chill runs down his spine and subconsciously he dials the heater up.

“I told you to put on another sweater” Mom chides affectionately, like he’s still five and refusing to wear a toboggan to school.

“Yea sorry” he mutters, but he notices her smiling wistfully out of the corner of his eye.

Will gingerly taps on his shoulder, he turns and is met with Will extending the bag of skittles to him with a cautious smile.

“Thanks buddy” Jonathan smiles back.

One particularly frosty morning, he wakes up exceptionally early, intent on paying the electricity bill before going to school. Despite his best efforts, his morning shower does little to nothing to take the chill out of his bones. It’s his own fault really, he should’ve wrapped the pipes last night. He reaches for the shampoo bottle only to find it empty. He sighs and shuts off the water, no sense in wasting more than he already has.

He quickly shuffles back to his room, barely waiting to dry before pulling on layers for protection. From his open closet, his boots taunt him, but he still can’t bring himself to put them on, opting for double socks instead. He’ll probably end up slipping on ice and breaking his leg, but that’d be better than having a breakdown over his shoes. He tosses on one of his few clean and unstolen sweaters, plucks his winter coat from his chair, then makes his way to the kitchen. To his surprise, Will is in the living room, wrapped in an ancient, massive quilt and watching cartoons.

“Oh hey, I made oatmeal” Will announces in a soft murmur and he wonders when he figured out how to do that.

“Thanks” Jonathan nods, continuing his trek into the kitchen.

Sure enough, there’s a leftover pot on the stove. He grabs a bowl down and takes a spoonful which lands with a heavy plop. He has a sinking feeling that Will doesn’t actually know how to make oatmeal. But he has to appreciate the effort. He takes out the milk and a little sugar, hoping that with some doctoring it won’t be too bad. Jonathan flops onto the couch, cautiously he takes a bite. It goes down like lead.

“How is it?” Will asks, hopeful.

“It’s good” he lies, trying his best to swallow it down. He really should've grabbed juice.

“I need to go to town hall, you want me to wake up mom for you” he questions in between chewing, he’s grateful Will’s attention is on the TV.

“No, I can do it” he snides in a clear deep voice.

Jonathan shakes his head, then racks his brain for some reason why Will might be so irritated this early, an upcoming test maybe? But no, usually those make him anxious and stressful, not anger inducing. Maybe he didn’t sleep at all, Jonathan angles around, trying to catch a glimpse of Will’s face under his blanket, but it’s no use.

“Ok, well your lunch is in the fridge” Jonathan reminds gently.

“I know” he huffs, squeezing the remote tightly.

He finishes the rest of his breakfast in silence, desperately looking for some shift that will tell him exactly what Will’s thinking. It was easier before… well before now. Jonathan’s not sure if it’s the trauma or just some inevitable factor that comes with teenagehood. He takes a shaky breath, unsure if the oatmeal or his own guilt causing his stomach to churn. He’s trying really, at least that’s what he tells himself. But he can’t shake the feeling that the more time he spends with Nancy, the more he feels Will slipping away.

Jonathan sighs, checks his watch and gets up to put their bowls in the sink. When he finishes washing up, he bids a quick goodbye which gets a grunt in response. Then he grabs his bag, checkbook and keys from his room already mentally preparing himself for the cold.

“Do I really have to go to school today?” Will questions loudly as his hand is on the lock. He turns to face him and Will has sprung, shedding his blanket cocoon. Standing up straighter than usual.

“Are you sick?” he asks, giving him a once over, he doesn’t look any paler than usual.

“Well no but…” Will hesitates, lowering his eyes to a nasty stain on the carpet from last fall. “They’re starting to sell tickets” he mumbles at the ground, wringing his hands together.

“Tickets?” Jonathan frets, he swallows hard. If this is related to the zombieboy thing…

“For the dance” Will clarifies shyly, a flush in his cheeks.

“The snowball?” Jonathan says in disbelief.

But it comes out meaner than he means it to and Will looks up like he’s about to cry. Shit. Jonathan quickly rushes into the living room, scooping his brother into a hug.

“Look Will, I’m sorry I didn’t-”

“Everyone’s going” He laments, but there’s an edge to his voice. Anger. “And it’s stupid, but it’s all they want to talk about and I can’t go”

“Why not?” Jonathan asks, as Will lets go of his hold.

“Curfew” he grumbles.

“Right uh…” Jonathan pauses, he's not sure what he can say. It’s not like mechanics, there’s not an easy replacement, or something that’s missing that needs to be refueled. He doesn’t know how to fix this. He can’t just go out and buy new spark plugs that make it so mom isn’t overprotective.

“It’s so stupid, I mean I’m thirteen! And you know Lucas gets to stay out until ten now!” Will continues, louder, without a care in the world if he wakes her up or not.

Jonathan sighs, Will rubs his eyes and sniffles. Then he takes a deep breath and lets his arm hang low, slumping his shoulders. Shrinking. Suddenly, it’s Jonathan’s turn to be mad. He bites his cheek as it burns through him, Will’s right it’s not fair. He survived that thing, and now he doesn’t even get to live. He doesn’t understand the appeal of a school dance, but if it’s what Will wants then…Besides, it’s the least he can do for not being around when Will needed him.

“Do you really wanna go?” Jonathan asks, and Will immediately perk up.

“Everyone else is” he shrugs.

“Then” He breathes out, trying his best to release his anger “We’ll figure something out”

“Like what?” Will questions, skeptically.

“I don’t know yet” He admits and Will frowns, “But if you really want to drink fruit punch and crappy music all night then-”

“I wanna hang out with my friends” he responds with certainty and there’s a sharp ache in Jonathan’s chest.

“Then we’ll make it happen” he decides with a nod, “I promise”

“Thanks Jonathan” he appreciates, happily bouncing his way back to the couch.

Jonathan checks his watch again, he’s running late now, well later than he meant to. He hustles back towards the front door, if he hurries, he should still be able to make it to school on time. The cold air hits like a knife on his way out, but he quickly finds shelter in his car. He runs the heater until the layer of frost on the windshield falls away, quietly grateful he doesn’t have to pick up Nancy on top of everything else.

Before he knows it, he’s parking in front of Town Hall, not entirely sure how he got there. Force of habit, he supposes as he double checks for the check book. He grabs it from its place in his book bag and quickly exits the car, bracing for the cold.

He nearly slips on the walk in, but somehow manages to just keep his balance.Once he enters the building he excessively wipes his shoes before making his way to the utilities counter. Thankfully, there’s no line and he’s able to walk right up to the counter.

“Hi Jonathan” Claudia greets with a bright smile.

“Hey, Mrs. Henderson” he nods politely, unsure how anyone is that energetic this early.

“Here to pay the electric bill?” she asks, as he pulls out the checkbook.

“Yea”

“You’re such a good son, helping your mom out” she praises. Jonathan gives her a fake smile, Mrs. Henderson doesn’t need to know that mom hasn’t checked the mail in weeks, let alone remembered to pay any of the bills. Quietly, he opens the envelope to double-check the amount before making out the check. $22.17 stares back at him in bright red.

He wrinkles his brow, that can’t be right. He swore it was $17.22, even then that’d be high. But it’d make sense between losing daylight and the nights getting colder.

“Something wrong?” Claudia asks, uncharacteristically quiet.

“Uh no it’s just uh it’s more than usual” he whispers back, suddenly hyperaware of the clerk next to Claudia and the small line that’s formed in the queue.

“I can check the record” she offers, practically jumping from her chair.

“No uh no it’s fine uh, I’m in a hurry so...” Jonathan rambles, he takes a shaky breath trying to ignore how hot and stuffy it’s gotten.

“Right, well you can always pay a little now to keep it on and put the rest on next month” she suggests with a warm smile like that won’t screw them over in the long run.

“No I can, I just wasn’t expecting it is all” he insists, he doesn’t need the entire town to think… well they already know he’s poor but he doesn’t need any extra pity or judgement.

“Tell me about it, winter comes and well paying for the heat sneaks up on all of us” Claudia jokes, clearly trying to calm him down.

He nods, even though he knows no one in his house has touched the thermostat in years… Unless mom… without him knowing… he tries to think if the house has really been warmer than usual, but it’s hard to say the house has been drafty for as long as he can remember. But maybe she would turn it on, some way to combat the paranoia of another monster getting Will. Even though she knows the gate is closed, even though they watched it leave his body.

“Jonathan?” Mrs. Henderson calls, catching his attention before he can think about that night too much.

“Oh uh right sorry” he apologizes, scrawls the inflated number onto the check, signs his name and slides it over.

“Alrighty, we’re all set. Tell your mom I say hi” Claudia smiles, like they’re old friends and not just linked through their sons.

In the back of his mind, he wonders if this incident will turn into some idle lunchtime gossip with the rest of the clerks. But then he rationalizes that she couldn’t possibly be that mean or Dustin would be too.

“Thanks Mrs. Henderson and I will” he responds, knowing it’s a lie.

He collects himself before heading off, as he makes his way back to the car he realizes he really will have to start shoveling driveways to keep afloat. That or beg for his job back at the Hawk. He’s not sure which is more embarrassing; The drain of lawn maintenance for little payoff or watching all the kids he goes to school have a fun night out while he cleans up after them.

He’s sure Mr. Nelson would hire him again, but can’t stand the idea of spending Saturday nights working concessions while Nancy looks at him like he's a sad wet puppy. If she doesn’t dump him for not being able to even take her out on a date.

Besides, what is he supposed to do about Mom and Will if he gets a real job again? One grocery trip and thick oatmeal don't make for household management. He's not even sure Will knows how to do laundry and Mom would let them live in darkness if he doesn't intervene.

He's just going to have to shovel lawns and driveways. He needs flexibility. Though, he can't deny he misses the feeling of cashing a paycheck and buying a record before giving the rest to Mom…He's sure Ms. Kelly will have a field day with that one later.

He sighs, fishing his keys from his pocket, he’ll have to speed if he wants to make it to Homeroom on time and-

“You’re ticketing my car? Seriously?” Jonathan shouts at Officer Callaghan.

“Yep, You’re parked in town employee only” he informs, nonchalantly.

“Since when?” he barks, snatching the ticket from the windshield.

“Listen, you have a problem, you take it up with the chief,” he shrugs and Jonathan resists the temptation to punch him in the jaw.

“Twenty bucks? You can't be serious!” he exclaims, reading the ticket thoroughly.

“Oh yes I can, you're double parked in a prohibited zone” he argues, and Jonathan stares at him in disbelief. What bullshit.

“I can’t afford this” he grumbles and Callahan shrugs again, making it crystal clear this isn’t his problem.

The clock tower tolls and there goes making it to homeroom.

“Hey! Where are you going?” Callaghan questions as he gets in the car.

“Taking it up with the chief” he shouts back, filled with a fury he didn't know he had.

He’s never believed in seeing red, but he can hardly focus on anything other than giving Hopper a piece of his mind as he speeds down the block, ignoring the sound of Callaghan trailing him. Doesn't that asshole have anything better to do. He stalls his car in front of the station, slamming the door and then storming into the building.

“Young man, can I help you?” an older woman questions

“I need to speak to Hopper” he demands, catching the attention of several officers.

“He's busy at the moment” She objects.

“With what?” He grills “Is someone missing a lawn ornament? Or did Mister Robintussin lose his trash cans again? Did a bunch of teens get wasted in a corn field? Cause he's certainly not supervising this asshole”

“Hey!” Callaghan whinges.

“Mr. Byers, calm down”

“Calm down seriously? You want me to calm down?” he questions, and he knows he’s freaking her out but he can’t stop. At lunch they’ll all gossip and laugh about Joyce Byers’ son coming in raving mad.

“Let me-”

“No you know what I don't need this I can find his office thanks” He asserts, pushing past the small gate that leads into the station.

Anger white hot now, he ignores her protests and practically breaks down the door marked sheriff. Hopper jumps in his seat, briefly he feels bad but then he sees Callaghan out of the corner of his eye and his guilt dissolves.

“Chief, you want me to arrest him for trespassing??” He questions, and Jonathan can hear him loosening the handcuffs.

“Jonathan?” Hopper pauses, darting his eyes to the still open doorframe “Is everything alright?”

“No, no everything's not alright” he scoffs.

Hopper’s eyes go as wide as dinner plates, for a brief second Jonathan realizes that Hopper’s concern is about other worlds or the government, not real actual problems. But it’s too late for Jonathan to course correct, the flood gates are already open and he frankly doesn’t care enough to apologize.

“You stupid deputy just ticketed me while I was trying to pay the electric bill which was seven bucks more than last time for no reason. I'm missing school because somebody decided a twenty dollar fine is more important than my education. So now my grades are going to slip and I'm gonna be stuck here forever scooping popcorn at the movie theater instead of going to college like a normal person” he rants, his hands flying wildly.

“Yeesh Byers, no one told you to come storming in here” Callaghan taunts, and Jonathan glares him, shaking in anger.

“Enough!” Hopper bellows, snapping Jonathan out of his blind rage.

“Callaghan out” He directs as Joanthan breathes hard.

“What?”

“You heard me, out” he orders, and Callaghan complies this time slinking off and mumbling.

“Jonathan take a seat” Hopper demands, but he stands there arms folded

“Now!” he barks and Jonathan slams into the chair across from his desk.

“Shut the door” he instructs, quieter but still gruff. Jonathan slams it closed and the sound reverberates through the office.

“Parking ticket?” Hopper questions, looking him in the eye “That true?”

Jonathan reaches into his pocket and slams the crumpled piece of paper onto the desk. Then crosses his arms and leans back in the chair, ready to ignore whatever lecture he's about to receive. He can't bring himself to care, he really doesn't think with all the problems in the world he doesn't think calling Callaghan an asshole breaks the top ten.

Except, Hopper doesn't chew him out, he crumples the ticket back up and tosses it like a basketball to the trash on the other side of the room. Then leans back, folds his hands and looks at him.

It's almost uncomfortable, something in his misty blue eyes just looks, well, sad. Not pitiful like Mrs. Henderson or concerned like Miss Kelly but sad with him. Like he understands, like he was in Jonathan's shoes. Or at least knew someone who was.

“How are you holding up kid?” Hopper asks, breaking the silence.

He’s not sure what compels him to tell the truth. Maybe it’s that they’ve always been honest with each other or maybe he’s just too exhausted to be defensive.

“I’m tired” Jonathan confesses, his voice cracking “and just…”

“Overwhelmed? Need to clear your head” he offers.

“Yea”

“Been there” he huffs.

And for whatever reason Jonathan actually believes him. Hopper leans his head back and gazes at the ceiling. When he turns his attention back to Jonathan, he's got a wistful look in his eye and he wonders if he's about to get some lecture about not wasting his youth.

“You ever get in that car of yours and just drive?” Hopper questions, fidgeting with the keys of his typewriter.

Ok, so not what he was expecting at all.

“No…I mean… gas is expensive” he stammers, taking a sharp breath.

Hopper shifts around in his chair and pulls his wallet out. Oh no not this, he's not some charity case.

“It's on me” he insists, passing a crumpled fifty to Jonathan.

His eyes go wide, he could pay the electric bill three times over with that much money.

“You or Owens?” he snarks, he’s not sure what the going salary is for the chief of police but he’s sure it’s not enough to just be handing out cash like this.

“Well he least the government owes you is a ditch day” Hopper shoots back, with a wry grin.

“Thanks I appreciate it but, I've just got exams coming up and I fell asleep reading the Grapes of Wrath and I’m so behind I really can't afford to just go for a drive” he explains, running a hand through his hair like that’ll make him look less frazzled.

“Save it for a rainy day” He insists, practically wafting it under Jonathan’s nose “Get yourself a couple records, take that kid brother of yours to the arcade. I don’t care! Just… spend it on something other than bills”

“I really-”

“Look son, what’s the saying, you can’t pour from an empty cup?” He recites.

Jonathan nods.

“From where I’m sitting your cup looks pretty empty” Hopper observes, gently.

Carefully, and despite the echo of Lonnie berating him in his head, he takes the bill from him and shoves it deep in his pocket. And nothing changes, the ground doesn't open up and swallow him whole, Hopper doesn't contort into his father ready to smack him for taking a handout. The stillness of the room remains like the exchange never happened.

But it makes him uneasy. Or maybe unsettled. If he had any sense, he'd just thank you and move on with it. Instead, he awkwardly squirms in his seat while Hopper waits for him to say something. It's giving him deja vu honestly.

“I gotta go to school” Jonathan informs.

“You want me to call your mom? See if she can call them and-”

“No! Uh no!” he protests as Hopper slowly puts the phone back on the receiver.

“She’s probably already on her way to work” he explains

“Look I have meeting with Miss Kelly so I really-”

“Kelly?” Hopper questions, curiosity peaked.

“The guidance counselor” he explains, revealing too much.

“Well, don't let me keep you” he notes.

“Right um thanks” Jonathan nods, getting up from the chair and making his way

“And Jonathan?” Hopper calls, as he’s halfway in the hallway.

“Mmm?”

“She's tough, remember” He imparts.

“Yea” Jonathan nods, not sure if he believes that anymore.

By the time he gets to school he doesn’t even bother stopping in at the office. He’s so beyond tardy it doesn’t even matter. Plus, it’s not like he has an actual excuse. He resigns that he’ll probably end up in detention over it but can’t find the energy to actually care.

“Jonathan, so nice of you to finally join us” Mrs. Duvall proclaims, as he enters the classroom and his face burns with embarrassment.

Amongst the snickering of his peers, Nancy perks up and grins. But quick as it came, her smile fades and her brows knit together. He awkwardly shuffles to his seat and figures she must be pissed at him for causing a fuss. She whispers a quiet ‘hey’ but he doesn’t respond, too afraid it’d come out squeaky and small. He can feel the rest of the class watching as he retrieves his notebooks and copy of Grapes of Wrath. Mrs. Duvall is waiting for him to settle in and he really wishes she weren’t.

“We were just discussing what event in chapter thirteen might foreshadow the events of the book” she informs, just as he finishes.

“Chapter thirteen” he stammers, quickly flipping through his worn library copy. They were supposed to read chapters thirteen through fifteen, but he stopped on chapter eleven and he’s been behind since. It’s all of three pages but something about the narrator going on about the land puts him straight to sleep.

“Yes, any thoughts?” she questions, and the class laughs again or maybe he’s just imaging it.

“Uh um” he stalls, swallowing hard. He rapidly skims the pages as though the answer will magically appear underlined or in bold.

“I'm afraid um won't cut it for your final exam, best to spend your time studying instead of sleeping in” she advises, and the class is definitely laughing now or jeering. He slumps low in his seat and takes a breath, he’s not going to cry over this. He doesn't care about them, he knows he's not stupid he had the top grade in the class before… well before.

From behind, Nancy softly traces a heart on his shoulder blade sending an electric charge through his skin. It takes all he has not to jump up and drag her out of here. He'd kill to go somewhere far far away and hide in their bubble.

Maybe it's the fifty burning a hole in his pocket, maybe it's the humiliation, maybe he just wants to spend time with his girlfriend away from everyone else but it suddenly occurs to him that Hopper was right. He can just ditch. Go for a drive and see where they end up.

The remainder of class goes by painfully slow. Like he can feel each agonizing second tick away as he tries to brainstorm how to ask Nancy to leave. It's not like there's some big mission this time. No one to blackmail, no conspiracy theorist to find, just an overwhelming need to break free.

At last the bell rings and he quickly shoves his supplies into his bag and beelines out of the classroom. It's one of their weird unspoken rules: He leaves first, she catches up to him in the hallway and he doesn't ask any weird questions about why it has to be that way.

“Are you ok?” Nancy questions, gently touching his arm once she reaches him.

“Yea, yea of course” Jonathan fibs, she doesn't need to be told how awful his morning was. It's over now anyway.

“It's just you said you had an errand but then I didn't see you in homeroom and I got worried…. is everything alright?” she asks again, more urgent this time.

It clicks that she doesn't mean him. She's really asking if there's something wrong with Will, if there's another monster, another end of the world.

“Fine, everything's fine” he promises with a soft smile as they slowly but surely reach her locker.

She must believe him because she sighs and starts pulling her books out to deposit them. He panics, realizing that he's got to ask her now or never.

“Do you wanna skip?” tumbles out of his mouth

“Like class?” she wonders with a small smile.

“Like school” he clarifies.

“Oh”

“I just don't wanna be here right now” he explains.

Nancy bites her lip, likely mulling over something to say to convince him to stay. On some level, he knows that he should stick it out, the end of the semester is just around the corner and he needs all the help he can get. But he can’t ignore the itch.

“Look it's fine you don't have to come if you don't want to I'll just-”

“Ditch me?” she teases, playfully jabbing him.

“I-”

“You know what, why not” she decides, slamming her locker shut.

“Really?” he grins, feeling lighter already.

“Yea, what's the worst thing that could happen?” Nancy jokes.

“Knowing me and you?” he snarks.

“Yea well I go where you go” she smiles, weaving their fingers together.

A kind of uninhibited glee fills him as they zoom past the leaving Hawkins sign. The joy of knowing they can go anywhere they want. Or at least anywhere that his car will allow.

“Where are we going?” Nancy exclaims from the passenger seat, clearly taken aback by their departure.

“I have no idea” Jonathan admits with a nervous laugh.

He wants to go anywhere, everywhere with her. Just far enough to be far away and close enough to have her safely back home by dinner. Somewhere where the rest of the world can fall away and it’s just them.

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches her staring. Studying really,brows knit together like he’s a math problem she hasn’t cracked quite yet. Suddenly, it occurs to him that maybe leaving town wasn’t what she signed up for when she agreed to skip.

“Look I can take you back I just-”

“And leave me to suffer through history without you? Fat chance” She reassures, taking his hand from the wheel and lacing their fingers together.

“Muncie” he offers, but she scrunches her nose in protest.

“Indianapolis” she suggests enthusiastically, eager to play the game until they settle on somewhere.

Jonathan flinches. His stomach drops, a train yard, the rain and the trunk of the car flash in his mind.

“Absolutely not” he retorts, a little too aggressively.

The joy of their banter is quickly replaced with a stiff, awkward silence. Nancy clears her throat and his chest feels tight. He’s sullied the mood, he might as well turn around now. But he doesn’t want that either. He opens his mouth to explain, but closes it again. Where does he even start with his dad? How could she possibly understand that an entire city is off limits because of one occupant?

“It’s fine Jonathan” she assures, softly.

But it’s not fine. If he can’t be honest with her, she might as well dump him now. His stomach does another flip, he really doesn’t think he can handle losing her again.

“Sorry… I just… Lonnie… my dad lives there” he explains, barely above a whisper like he’s confessing to some heinous sin.

“Mmm so definitely not” Nancy agrees, simply.

Relief washes over him. He was stupid for thinking she wouldn’t get it. Of course she does, that’s why he loves her.

“You can tell me anything. You know that right?” she implores, gently raising his hand and kissing his knuckle.

“I know” he acknowledges, but it comes out squeaky, unsure and embarrassing.

Jonathan wants to believe it’s true, that he could tell Nancy that the rabbit story is the tip of the iceberg, that there’s plenty more where that came from, that in the back of his mind his dad is there criticizing every choice he’s ever made. But the memory of her calling Lonnie an asshole holds him back. She already thinks he’s poor Jonathan Byers with the asshole dad and if she knew the depth of it? She’d be shocked, freaked or just plain horrified. Worst of all, he can stand the idea of the inevitable pity in her eyes. He doesn’t think he could recover from that. Nancy makes a sound between a sigh and a deep breath, and clicks the radio on.

“Ugh no” he objects as the synthetic sounds of Last Christmas fill the car.

“I like this song!” she protests, turning up the volume.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously”

“I can't believe my girlfriend likes Wham” he complains.

“Yea but you like me more than you hate wham right?” she questions.

“Ehhh” he teases, barely able to disguise his grin.

Nancy gently pushes his side, he catches her hand when she moves it away and gives it a tender squeeze.

“Oh! We should go Christmas shopping in Fort Wayne” Nancy suggests, as if hit by a bolt of lightning.

“We should?” he counters, envisioning the vibrant cacophony of the mall.

“It was just a thought” she murmurs, her excitement dissipated.

“You know what? Yea, yea why not?” he agrees, because if she’s happy what the hell does it matter where they go.

“Yea?”

“I go where you go, right?” he questions, and she softly kisses his hand.

Several irritating Christmas tunes and one interesting duet to Carol of the Bells later he parks in his best approximation of downtown. The last time he was in Fort Wayne had to be nine years ago… Maybe? On a trip with mom and Will to the zoo? Or maybe the art museum? All he really remembers are tulips in a park. So he relied mostly on highway exits to direct them, because as much as he loves her, Nancy is a terrible navigator. It’s not the bright lights of the mall but it’ll have to do.

If Nancy’s upset, it doesn’t show. She’s practically buzzing as they exit the car and quickly links their hands together as they set off to explore. The buildings seem to loom over them, but he doesn’t mind. The expanse puts him at ease, like somehow there's more space to breathe. No one knows him here. No one knows his brother went missing, or thinks his mom is crazy, or that his family is cursed. No one is going to call him a freak for having the audacity to hold Nancy’s hand. It’s nice, liberating.

“Oh wait, can we stop in here?” Jonathan asks as they pass by a brick building with plants overtaking the windows.

“You want to go to a gardening store?” Nancy questions, equal parts skeptical and curious.

“Miss Kelly she's got this hanging thing and it's practically dead and I read that you can get a special kind of lamp that mimics the sun” He explains, tugging the door open and stepping into the humid faux jungle.

“You read that?” she asks in a whisper like she’s about to jot his answer down in his file.

“I couldn't sleep” he shrugs, not entirely a lie, but not the whole truth either. He had purposely checked out an introductory guide to indoor plants to try and salvage what he learned is a pothos.

He finds a section dedicated to accessories and plucks the grow lamp like he knows what he’s doing. As they’re walking to the register, he’s hit with a memory of mom in the backyard from when he was younger, much younger, before Will was born. In a dreamy haze, she’s doting on him while they check on a tomato plant. A warmth blooms in his chest, but there’s something else too, something he can’t quite name. He swallows hard and shakes his head to reorient himself, but the lump in his throat doesn’t go away. Nancy squeezes his hand, bringing him back to earth. And he awkwardly places the light on the counter, avoiding eye contact with the cashier.

Jonathan hands over the bill from his wallet, out of the corner of his eye he notices Nancy’s eyes going wide. He should’ve stopped at the bank and gotten smaller bills, he does his best nonchalant polite smile at the cashier hoping that it’s convincing and he doesn't end up arrested miles from home. To his shock, the guy smiles back and the transaction proceeds as normal.

“Dig the jacket by the way” the twentysomething clerk compliments as Joanthan collects his change.

“Uh thanks man” he nods, figuring he must be freaking the guy out because there’s nothing particularly special about his old black jacket.

As punishment for acting weird, Nancy drags him into so many stores that he loses count. He’s not sure if she’s trying to shop for her entire extended family or just wants his opinions. But somewhere between the wonders kitchen appliance store and the monotony of the golf outlet he defaults to ‘It’s nice’ for every object she shows off.

He’s about to ask if he can wait in the car, but he doesn’t love the idea of leaving her on her own. Sure, she can track down a Demogorgon but he can’t help but feel protective. She must sense he's fading because she conveniently pops into a book store.

Nancy winds them through aisles, passing by neat colorful displays of recommended reads. Once they reach the fiction section of the store, she pulls books at random, attentively reading their synopsis and tucking them back away. She puts I Capture The Castle back and he wonders if there’s a method to her madness, or if it genuinely didn’t interest her or whoever she’s buying for. Carefully, she tugs out a copy of The Death of the Heart and turns it over, knitting her brows together and scanning the passage before turning it back over.

“Wait, you'll actually like that one it's about this orphan named Portia who has to live with her half-brother and-”

“Hey!” Nancy exclaims, stopping his summarizing,

“You're not supposed to tell the plot of books you've read but I haven't remember?” she reprimands.

“Right, right sorry” he nods softly.

“Not everyone can be a star reader like you, you know” she teases, like their third grade teacher is still going to put a celebratory sticker by his name for finishing Charlotte's Web before anyone else.

“It’s good that’s all” Jonathan shrugs, sliding his hands into his pockets.

“Knowing you it’s probably pretentious” she teases, but she holds onto the tome as she picks another up from a nearby table.

“You should get this one!” she exclaims, holding up a light brown book with a portrait of a melancholy woman on the cover.

“Why is it pretentious?” he jokes, with a small smile.

“What? No. It's good! I’m surprised you haven’t read it before” she notes, handing the book to him.

“I’m not a big Austen fan” Jonathan reveals quietly, after giving it a once over.

“Really?” she questions.

“I mean I’ve read Pride and Prejudice and Emma but no not really” he answers, slowly sliding Persuasion back into place.

“Hmm”

Suddenly, Nancy’s shoulders slump, her joy dissipating all at once. A pensive fog clouds her bright eyes like she’s somewhere else entirely. Haunted by a ghost that he can’t see. She presses her lips together, a wrinkle in brow and he waits for her lead with baited breath.

“Barb and I had an Austen summer once” she whispers, not quite meeting his eyes.

“What did that look like?” Jonathan asks, unable to imagine himself.

“Well, we read all her books while tanning in front of my lawn and we’d talk about which ones were our favorite, what heroine we’d be, which guy we’d marry” Nancy elaborates, painting the picture for him.

“So book club?” he teases.

“Yea, basically just with more sun-in” she laughs, and he looks at her confused. “It’s this spray that gives you highlights, it doesn't matter” she informs, once she realizes.

Jonathan stalls, trying to picture her with blonde hair. Then his brain short-circuts a little and he shakes his head trying to bring himself back down to earth. Nancy looks at him like he’s completely lost it, but then sadness crosses her face.

“Bingley?” he guesses, trying to bring her back to the moment.

“No… Mr. Knightley, obviously” she answers with a sly smile.

“If I loved you any less I might be able to talk about it more” he quotes.

Nancy’s eyes go wide and her face turns about as red as her scarf.

“Uh I’m gonna go check out the SciFi section for Will” he quickly rattles, barely able to breathe. What the hell is he thinking?

“Yea uh yea” she nods.

He can feel her watching him as he darts away, attempting to subtly outrun his embarrassment. Of all the things to say… Temporarily, he gets distracted by the travel section and a sightseeing guide to Rome but eventually he finds his way to SciFi searching the shelves for something Will might like or at the very least hiding from his latest flub. Eventually, he settles on the newest Dune novel for Will and the new Hitchhiker's Guide for him. Then he finds Nancy, they checkout their purchases, and he drives them to a nearby park for lunch.

At one of the concrete tables, Nancy carefully unpacks her matching tupperwares from her neatly organized lunch box. Jonathan takes a sharp breath trying to ignore the tight squeeze in his chest as he reaches into the brown paper bag holding his sad peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She pops open a lid and extends a container of carrots to him, silently offering to share.

“Oh uh no thanks, I'm allergic” he informs before taking a bite of his sandwich.

“Really?” She questions, quickly snapping the lid back on and tucking the carrots back in her lunch box.

“I didn't know that” she muses, before he can finish chewing and respond to her.

“Now you do” he notes with a shrug.

Nancy’s face lights up with a smile, he’s not sure why his allergy brings her such delight. If anything it’s inconvenient. When he turned seven, Aunt Darlene went through the trouble of making him a cake from scratch without realizing, he spent his birthday in the Hawkins Memorial emergency room, Will cried the whole time and Lonnie was nowhere to be found. They didn’t see Aunt Darlene much after that.

“When I was seven I lied to my grandma about being allergic to peas” she enlightens with a small grin, taking a bite of her orange slice.

“What?”

“I thought they were gross” she explains with a light laugh that makes his heart skip a beat.

“So you figured you'd fake getting hives?” he asks incredulously.

“Yes and I would've gotten away with it-”

“If it weren't for the meddling kids” He jokes, she laughs and catalogs the sound in his mind.

“Kid. Mike just kept yelling ‘Nanny's lying Nana’” she recalls with an overexaggerated imitation.

“Wow, I forgot he used to call you Nanny” Jonathan huffs, suddenly remembering how Mike used to shout for his sister when he and Karen would pick her up from school.

“He struggled with his c’s” she says softly, more to herself than to him.

Nancy’s smile fades and she looks down at her remaining apple slices, a glassy haze over her eyes as though she’s trapped in the past and silently stewing over everything she could’ve done differently. All at once, all he can think about is mom sitting at the kitchen table, chain-smoking cigarettes after dad left. Quickly, Jonathan slides his hand over Nancy’s, desperately trying to pull her back before she goes too far. At the very least maybe it would be enough to sit in her sadness together.

“Will used to slip on the a” he offers.

“Hmmm?”

“In the middle he'd say Jonthan when he was really little” he elaborates, with a fond smile

“What about Holly?” he asks, before she can fall back down the rabbit hole.

“What about her?” she questions back, not following his train of thought.

“Does she slip on the c?” he clarifies, as she offers her last few slices.

“No of course not, her diction is incredible” Nancy grins.

“Where do you wanna go to college?” Jonathan questions, unsure what compels him to ask other than sheer curiosity.

Nancy furrows her brows and presses her lips together to form a thin line. Maybe she doesn’t have an answer or maybe he shouldn’t have asked.

“Somewhere far far away from here” she responds wryly.

Her eyes drift away, almost looking through him or maybe beyond. Suddenly, she feels lightyears away and he’s desperate to pull her back down to earth. If only so he’s not alone.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously” she sighs “I don't know, Barb and I used to talk about backpacking through Europe after graduation and then I don’t know, we talked about Barnard but it wasn’t really…”

“Real” he finishes.

“Yea” she nods.

“I’ve been thinking about Emerson lately” she confesses, barely above a whisper, like speaking about it will take it away.

“Emerson?”

“Yeah, they were at the college fair last fall. You don’t remember?” she asks, softly like she’s upset he doesn’t.

But of course he remembers it, it was the first cool day, she had just cut her hair, was wearing a blue pastel striped sweater, animatedly buzzing around the booths and he was desperately reminding himself that she had a boyfriend.

“You suggested it” she notes, but he remembers that too.

“Yea uh I just didn't know you took it seriously” he admits, at the time she seemed only half interested in the booth. Like it was a fool’s errand.

“I take all of your recommendations seriously” she asserts, high and proud.

“Except for Vonnegut” He grumbles, and she scrunches her nose at him and he’s so in love it hurts to look at her.

“Where do you want to go?” Nancy asks, and he feels his shoulders stiffen.

“I don't know” he pauses, staring down at the table “Bob went to Notre Dame” he imparts, recalling one dinner where Bob insisted that he and Jonathan could go on a tour over Christmas Break. He pushes his guilt away, weaving their fingers together.

“Steve's going to IU” Nancy informs, and he wonders if she’s saying it as an option or a place to avoid.

“I don’t.. I don’t really wanna stay in Indiana” he confesses quietly.

“Really?” she questions, he looks up and raises a brow. “Sorry I mean, I just figured everything with your mom and Will”

“I know but I…I can’t-”

“Stay in Hawkins forever?” she finishes.

“Yea”

“You could come” Nancy says as soft as a church mouse, briefly glancing up and then shying away again.

“Hmm?”

“To Boston” she hesitates, worming her lip.

“What would I do in Boston?” he scoffs, his imagination failing him again.

“We can throw tea in the harbor” she suggests, earning a laugh.

“Get really into the Red Sox” he jokes and she grins.

“We could go to Emerson together” Nancy options, barley above a whisper.

The wind blows just right that it seems to travel up his sleeve, chilling him to the bone. He shivers

“Here” she insists, unraveling her scarf and offering it.

“I don’t need-”

“To get sick” she interjects, tying the scarf around his neck and giving him a peck on the lips.

Jonathan runs his fingers on the edge of the fabric, then looks back up at her, trying to find something to say to her suggestion.

“We should get going… if we wanna be back by three” she decides before he can say anything.

“Yea uh yea” he agrees, the moment is gone he’s waited too long.

“Can I drive?” she asks, pouting.

“No”

“Oh come on! How am I ever going to learn” she pleads, as he packs up their shared lunch.

“From an instructor” he teases, as they wander back to the car.

“Please?” she requests, grabbing the back of his jacket.

“No” he insists, pulling his keys out of his pocket.

“Please?” Nancy asks, grabbing for the keys as he opens the door.

“No” he answers, twisting around to dodge her and ending up with his back to the door.

“Pleaseee” she begs, pressing herself into him.

Jonathan stalls, mind racing again, Nancy tiptoes up her lips inches away from his own.

“Please Jonathan?” she murmurs against his mouth.

“You’re impossible to say no to, you know that?” he grumbles just as she kisses him.

Jonathan must fall asleep on the way home, because the next thing he knows they’re racing through Marion. Nancy is dangerously close to the wheel, hands perfectly at ten and two, singing along to some pop hit he doesn't completely hate.

There's something intimate about her serious attention to the road contrasted with her light singing that makes him nostalgic for this moment even though he's still in it.

Nancy insisted that he teach her, swearing something special just between them. Nancy Wheeler thinks he's worth something this special, thinks he's special. And that thought overwhelms him so much he starts tapping along to the melody just to get his nervous energy out.

“You know this song!?” Nancy exclaims, excitedly.

“I am alive in the year 1984” Jonathan snarks, sleep still at the edges of his voice.

Nancy beams, clearly elated at him knowing top forty.

“Plus you sing it all the time in the darkroom” he notes, softly and Nancy’s eyes go wide.

“What?” he asks, panicking that he’s said something wrong.

“Nothing I… I didn't think you noticed I guess” she answers, shaking her head.

“I always notice you” He murmurs, catching her attention.

Except, Nancy looks at him too long and the car drifts towards the snowbank. It's chaos, he grabs the wheel to steer away from the ice, she slams on the brakes, and when all is said and done they sit there for a solid minute in shock. Then they both burst into laughter.

In-between dropping Nancy off at home and picking up Will from school, Jonathan stops into the library. He keeps his head low, mindful of the other patrons staring at him. He carefully shuffles through the card catalogue until he finds something at least a little interesting and then makes his way to the corresponding shelves. He finds what he's looking for and debates following through for a moment before deciding that worst case scenario at least he'll have something to lull him to sleep. He makes his way back to the circulation desk, gently placing the book on the counter.

“Planning a trip?” the librarian asks, raising a brow as she lends him Boston, A Social History.

“Uh school project” he lies, quickly taking the book and hightailing it out of there before anyone else notices what he's done.

A couple nights later, when the chill is so frigid that no amount of sweaters or meager fires can ward it off the phone rings. Jonathan snaps his book shut and springs up to answer before someone else can, figuring it must be Nancy.

“Byers residence this is Jonathan” he greets, on the off chance it's not her.

“Hey kid, Ralph said-”

His heart plummets, his throat feels tight. Some variation of what the fuck do you want is on the tip of his tongue. But the next thing he knows, he slams the phone against the receiver so hard it rings. He should've known better. Things have been going just a little too well with Nancy lately. He should've expected this. The other shoe always drops.

He tries to breathe, but it's like the whole room is spinning. The phone rings again and he slams it so hard the time it trills. In a panic, he picks back up the phone. Lonnie can't call if it's off the hook right? In an irrational stroke of genius, he pulls the cord out of the wall. Then frantically plugs it back in. He's pretty sure if he misses a call from Nancy he'll end up in hot water.

He paces, incapable of making a sound decision. What the hell would Lonnie even want? No one's birthday is coming up. They haven't won the lottery. There's no real reason to call. He doubts that anyone would even buy into any empty promises this time. Things are just too different.

Jonathan unplugs the phone again, he'd rather try to explain to Nancy than listen to Lonnie’s bullshit. Or worse have mom or Will answer. Things are just too fragile to have Lonnie come around and ruin them, especially for mom. He wants to believe that she wouldn’t let him back in. Wouldn’t fall for his bullshit again… but he can’t get the memory of them drinking on the couch out of his mind. In her temporary grief, she let him take over their lives so easily. Now that Bob’s gone, who knows what she’ll do. How she’d handle this. Not well if he has to guess. Really, it’s for the best if keeps this to himself.

That night, he doesn't sleep a wink. At one in the morning, he leans halfway out the window hoping the weed will help him drift off. An hour later, Will catches him eating cheese out of the refrigerator. Close to the witching hour, he finishes The Grapes of Wrath and throws the book at the wall. Somewhere around four in the morning, he gives in, picks up his keys and drives. Tracing the familiar paths of Hawkins until he loops back around and parks at the shores of Lake Jordan.

He grabs his camera from the passenger seats and embraces the bitter cold as he exits the car. If he ignores the way the frost makes him feel like his fingers are going to fall off it’s nice, pretty even. He crouches, snapping a photo of a frosted leaf that reminds him of the sugared fruits Mrs. Wheeler has at her Christmas parties. He sighs and his breath lingers in the air, he does his best to ignore it and the numbness slowly builds in his face.

Jonathan turns his attention to the lake, taking in how the dawn hits the water. Briefly, he wonders if the light hits the water differently on the bay of Boston or the rivers of New York. But realistically, at this rate is he ever going to know?

Just because Will can make oatmeal doesn't mean he knows how to pay bills. He's pretty sure he doesn't even know how to write a check. And Mom… well Mom can't even find her keys most mornings.

Would life really be that different in a year?

Try as he might, he can’t picture a morning that breaks from their routine. Imaginary Will is accidentally spilling orange juice on his Common Application, Imaginary mom is standing over a smoking toaster and the imaginary Lonnie won’t stop ringing the phone off the hook.

Who’s he kidding? He’ll be lucky if they can even afford his application. And what’s he even supposed to put on it? Teen Monster Hunter 1983-1984? Sure, it’ll set him apart from the other applicants but he doubts it’ll get him in anywhere. It’s a hopeless pursuit.

He snaps a couple more photos if only to distract himself before packing it up and retreating from the cold. When he gets home, he uses too much hot water for his shower but he can’t bring himself to care. Stepping out of the tub, he wraps himself in a towel trying to ignore the chill. He wipes the mirror with his hand and tugs open the medicine cabinet only to find the razors completely gone. He sighs, rubs his eyes and wonders if this is just going to be how his day goes before heading back to his room to change.

At breakfast, he’s so frazzled he almost burns Will’s eggs. But Jonathan can’t tell them, besides what is there to tell? It's not like he was brave enough to pick up the call. Will pushes the well done eggs around his plate as he nibbles on toast and tries his heavily doctored cup of coffee. He's sure that all the milk and sugar in the world wouldn't stop the acidic taste in his mouth.

Mom flies around the kitchen, her threadbare scarf like a cape, none the wiser to his misfortunes. After successfully finding her keys amongst a stack of unread mail, she ruffles Will's hair and bids them both farewell.

But half-way through her ritual she pauses, turns around and gives him a once over. He straightens up, hoping that somehow she won't notice the extra bags under his eyes.

“Jonathan, honey, are you alright? You look a little…”

Honey… he must look rough. He swallows hard, she looks so small in the doorframe, so fragile, he doesn’t need to burden her with his shit.

“Yea, yea, fine” he nods, trying his best to come off bright-eyed.

“Are you sure? If you need to stay home I can…”

“I can’t” he cuts her off and she frowns, “Uh just finals coming up and… math” he explains quietly, looking down at the crumbs on his small plate.

Briefly, he glances up to see if she’s buying what he’s trying to sell. Her brows are drawn together, her lips are pursed together and her arms are crossed. Just as he thinks he’s going to have to come clean about dad, and Miss Kelly, and ditching school and the … pressure, she sighs, drops her arm and gives up.

Jonathan looks up at mom, but all he can see is her in the garden sunhat fluttering in the breeze. How did they get so far away from that? It’s his fault, he knows it. He shut her out a long time ago, and it’s too late to let her back in. He should just be honest with her, just this once. But he can’t bring himself to do it, it’s bad enough he made her worry about him. She doesn’t need to worry about Lonnie trying to interrupt their lives again.

“Hey uh could you pick up razors please?” He requests before she leaves again, if only to give her something. Some task that will make up for the fact that he’s impossible to mother.

“Sure honey” Mom smiles, and he ignores the numbness in his chest.

Somehow, Jonathan successfully drives them all to school without killing anyone. But the rest of the morning is a struggle, he barely nods his head during homeroom, yawns through English, and floats through the halls barely aware of his surroundings. If it weren’t for Nancy guiding him to Miss Kelly’s office, he’s sure he would’ve forgotten he was supposed to go. Still, he almost misses the door and the only thing that stops him is Nancy anchored to spot.

“Honey…Did you sleep at all last night?” she worries and he has an odd deja vu.

He should tell her, she would probably get it. If anything it would take a weight off his chest. But he stalls, their moments alone together have been like basking in the warmth of the sun and Lonnie is like some dark cloud threatening to steal all of that away. He can’t bring himself to let their paths cross.

“Well I... No uh not really, it was just cold and I couldn't get warm so you know tossing, turning” He explains and she frowns “But I’m fine, don’t worry” he swears. Her face grows tense, she raises her brow, and instantly he knows she knows he’s lying.

“Why didn't you just stay home?” she presses, somewhere between worried and annoyed.

“I didn't want my mom to worry and I wouldn’t get to see you so…” he shrugs, with a nervous smile. Nancy looks away, and then returns his smile.

“Plus you know I don't think it'd be great if I ditched her twice” he grumbles, nodding his head towards the door.

“Probably not” she agrees, then sighs “Darkroom for lunch?”

“Yea, yea I’ll see you then” he nods, she gives his hand a final squeeze, lets go and he twists the knob on the door.

The door ominously slams behind him and he swallows hard as Miss Kelly perks up from behind her desk. She doesn’t look completely disappointed in him, but not exactly happy to see him either. A heavy guilt fills him as he takes a seat

“I missed you at our last session” she greets, and he wonders if she's trying to make him feel worse.

“Yea uh I wasn’t feeling well” he explains, it's not entirely a lie.

“Mmm”

“Uh I got you this” Jonathan announces, sliding the lamp across her desk.

“Thank you” she says, looking it over and tucking it away.

“Are you feeling better?” Miss Kelly asks, looking him over.

“What? Oh uh yea, I was just up late reading” he excuses, clearing his throat.

“Reading what?”

“The Grapes of Wrath it's for class” he shrugs, folding his arms together.

“Ah, how'd you like the ending?” She asks with a small smile.

He's not sure why but he found himself incredibly hopeful for the Joabs. Turning page after page

with baited breath, waiting on a windfall. Anticipating that they'd actually find the proverbial

promised land in California. The ending left him disappointed to say the least.

“It was awful” Jonathan condemns, his jaw tight.

“Oh? What makes you say that?” Miss Kelly asks, pen at the ready to overanalyze his answer.

“They went through all that pain and suffering and-and I'm supposed to be satisfied because they were still kind? Where's the reward in that?” He criticizes, heat flooding through his body.

“You think people who suffer should be rewarded?” she questions slowly, irritatingly calm.

“Well no, but they shouldn't have to suffer. I mean they lose their house and their dog” his voice

cracks and he pauses trying to regain composure.

“And Grandma and the baby dies and it's all supposed to be ok but…” Jonathan fumes, his body shaking.

“But?”

“Who's looking out for them? Who's taking care of them?” He seethes, his voice thin.

Miss Kelly pauses, looking him over, he briefly glances up and recognizes her expression as pure sadness. He hunches over, elbows on his knees, curling into himself and wonders if she's decided he, like the Joabs and her stupid plant, is a lost cause. Kids like him don’t go to college, they’re lucky if they make it to the other side of the tracks.

“Why do you think you got me this?” She asks, holding up the light.

“Because your plant needs sunlight or it's going to die” Jonathan answers bluntly, nerves too raw for niceties.

“So you still have hope it can live?” Miss Kelly options, he straightens up looking her in the eye again, but he hesitates to answer. “It can recover?” she rephrases.

Jonathan rubs his hands and sighs.

“I…” he begins, but his own voice echoes back that the world isn’t going to end. “I guess so yea” he nods, cautiously optimistic.

At lunch, when he’s attempting to take his mind off the Joabs and simultaneously trying not to obsess over where the hem of Nancy’s skirt falls on her legs, he distracts himself by brainstorming ways to get Will to the dance. The easiest option would be a sleepover at the Wheelers, but Mom’s kinda sorta banned those. Maybe he can attend the sleepover?... He could join them and then once the boys fall asleep maybe he could… He glances again at Nancy’s tight-covered legs wondering, not for the first time today, what the fabric would feel like against his fingers. He swallows hard and shakes his head. Focus… focus.

She leans over offering him some of her pringles, he takes a couple chips and expresses a quiet thank you. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices her skirt ride up a little when she adjusts and he nearly chokes on pringle. In a panic, Nancy gives him a couple gentle pats on the back and he quickly drains his Fanta, wanting to be washed away with the chip crumbs stuck in his throat.

“Are you alright?” she asks, sweetly. Sweeter than he deserves at least.

“Yea, yea I’m fine” he answers, with a soft smile, hoping that she doesn’t catch him in this lie too and call him out for definitely checking out her thighs.

Ok, so him sleeping over is out of the question, but maybe he can distract mom by taking her to a movie at the same time as the Snowball? Sure, they haven’t seen a movie together since he Escape to Witch Mountain and she’ll probably wonder why Will isn’t coming but it could work… Maybe if he recruits Hopper... Nancy inches closer and he’s got the sudden urge to ask her if she wants to come over and study later.

“What is going on in that head of yours?” she questions, gently tugging on his jacket.

He tilts towards her and studies her expression, the arch of her brows, the way her eyes are somehow luminous in the dim light of the darkroom, the sly smile on her lips. Simply put, she’s breathtaking and inquisitive, ready to solve a mystery... Oh duh. If he weren’t so distracted by her, he probably would’ve thought about letting her in on his plans sooner.

“I need your help with something” Jonathan responds, and she perks up at the opportunity.

“Anything” Nancy offers, smiling brightly, almost too bright really, like the sun on a winter’s day.

“It’s Will…” he starts, and he watches the color leave her face “No, uh no, sorry, nothing like that..” he quickly rattles off.

She takes a deep breath and guilt burns through him when he notices her trembling chin. He should have just led with the dance instead of freaking her out.

“He wants to go to the snowball but lately my mom she’s been extra….” he stalls, overprotective is what it is, but that seems too harsh to name aloud.

“Watchful” Nancy offers, and he can't help but smile. She really is getting good at choosing the exact right words.

“Yea, so I have to help him convince her” Jonathan informs.

“Hmm and that’s where I come in?” she infers, with a small nod and a sense of pride.

He nods and she mulls it over. He observes as she contemplates options. Taking note of the way her brows cinch, the tilt of her head and how her eyes glaze over like she’s been swept away in a fantasy. Without thinking, he leans in, kisses her forehead and she hums happily.

“Well, we could go” she suggests when he scoots back.

“To the snowball?” he responds, as she holds onto his jacket as if to make sure he doesn’t wander too far away.

“They’re looking for volunteers” Nancy mentions, watching him nervously twist his hands together.

“Just how I want to spend a Saturday night” he huffs as she finally lets go and puts space between them again.

“Hey it’s fun or at least cute” she argues, frowning as he pulls his sandwich out of his bag.

“I wouldn’t know I didn’t go” Jonathan admits nonchalantly, like pretending not to care about the lingering sting of being excluded will make it go away.

“What?”

“I didn’t-”

“Yes you did” she interjects, smiling a wide, almost playful grin.

“No” He counters, peeling off the crusts of his sandwich to try to hide his annoyance.

“Yes!” Nancy insists, sterner this time. “You wore an avocado green sweater and you sat on the bleachers like all night” she recalls then takes a long drink from her Tab, as he tries to remember even owning something like that.

“Are you sure?” he questions, doubtfully, maybe Nancy just mistook him for some other kid. That seems more likely.

“Yes!”

“How?”

“I just am, why else would I remember your sweater” she asserts, her head held high, confidently, or maybe stubbornly. Either way, he can feel his heart racing.

“Ok but-”

“You wore it with a like black collared shirt and brown pants and Tommy H. said you looked like a turd and then-” she pauses, suddenly self-conscious of her rambling and wildly flying hands. She swallows hard, dimming her passion and he frowns. “He got sent to like Snowball detention or something” she finishes, just above a whisper then looks away.

“Snowball detention?” he chuckles, as she busies herself with her lunchbox.

“You seriously don’t remember?” she asks softly, her lips pressed together, her eyes filled with a strange sadness that makes him a little uncomfortable.

Jonathan strains, truthfully, he doesn’t remember much from seventh grade except that was when Lonnie finally left for good. That and he spent most of the late fall learning how to write with his left hand after his wrist broke. He remembers being in that cast for ages, it had to be close to Will’s birthday by the time he finally got it removed. He really can’t see himself going to a school dance with the damn thing. Still, he doesn’t want to fight over something so stupid, especially when Nancy is this sure.

“I guess not” he shrugs, taking one of her apple slices and popping it into his mouth.

“Well, you’ll just have to trust me” Nancy resolves, with a nod.

“With my life” tumbles out of his mouth before he can even think about it and Nancy coughs.

She stares at him wide-eyed and he’s sure the dark room has never been this quiet or this warm.

“Speaking of sweaters” he says, loudly, awkwardly changing the subject. “Do you still have my yellow one?” Jonathan questions, high and squeaky.

“No” she elongates.

“Nancy” he mimics.

“You have my scarf so we’re even” Nancy counters with a wide smile.

“Oh is that how this works?” he teases, leaning in closer.

“Yes” she whispers, inches away.

Their lips meet and everything else washes away as their chemistry floods in. Nancy crawls her hands underneath the waist of his sweater, grasping at his undershirt as he deepens his kiss. But just as he’s thinking that they can hide out in here instead of going to class the bell rings.

“Do you wanna do something tonight?” Jonathan asks in a whisper when she pulls away.

“Like what?” she whispers back, pressing her forehead to his.

“I dunno go to the movies or something” he suggests, taking a deep breath and memorizing this moment.

“Since when do we go to movies?” Nancy jokes, pulling away before he’s ready to let go.

“I just thought it’d be fun… I heard Nightmare on Elm Street is pretty good” he offers with a shrug, as she packs away her things.

“From who? Will?” she teases, as he slides down from the counter.

“What? No” he responds, holding out a hand to help her down.

“You're serious aren't you?” Nancy questions, bracing herself against him as she comes back to the ground.

“Guy can't take his girl to the movies?” Jonathan mutters, dejected. But Nancy doesn’t let go of his hand.

“Well when you put it like that” Nancy responds sweetly.

“I can pick you up after dinner” he insists, his mood rising again.

“It’s a date” she smiles, sealing her promise with a kiss.

After school, Will conspires with Mike in the back seat about something in hushed tones and no sooner is Nancy out of the car than he wants her back in. He makes Will move to the front seat partly to not feel like a chauffeur and partly to explain the snowball plan. He cautiously accepts it, not entirely happy with their compromise no matter how much Jonathan has to swear that he won’t even notice they’re there.

Once they get home, he distracts himself by helping Will with his homework. Closely monitoring the telephone, just in case. Somewhere between, Will stammering through the preamble and

He notices that mom is late and begrudgingly pulls ground beef out of the fridge for Hamburger Helper thinking the sooner they get through it, the better. He puts on a mixtape to keep himself awake more than anything, casually humming along as he cooks and trying to drown out the voice in the back of his head saying to call Melvald’s.

Jonathan learned a long time ago not to bother mom at work, just because he has a date tonight that doesn’t suddenly change. Although, he really does hope she’ll be back sooner rather than later. He has a feeling she’ll panic if she comes home to an empty house, and the thought of her storming into The Hawk is, well, mortifying.

“What does that mean? Not sure if you're a boy or a girl” Wills asks as Jonathan buzzes about the kitchen.

“It means that gender is a social construct” He answers, draining a can of green beans over the sink.

“Then how come you don't let Nancy drive?” he questions, critically. They had played cat and mouse with the keys this afternoon which greatly upset the boys. Mike must have said they were disgusting at least twenty times.

“Because… she'd kill us” he huffs, remembering her cute panicked face.

“Bull”

“No I swear” he laughs “Last week she almost drove over ice and then said I was distracting her” he elaborates, taking the green beans from the microwave and placing it on the counter.

“Well, were you?” Will questions, and he wonders when he got so nosy.

“Finish setting the table” Jonathan changes the subject, because he doubts Will really wants to know this much about his relationship.

Out of the corner of his eye he notices Mom and questions how long she’s been lingering around the house. But he drops his suspicions, focusing on transferring the stupid cheesy shells from the pan to a bowl.

“Oh hey mom, you’re just in time for dinner” Will greets, cheerfully and pulls another plate from the cupboard.

“Where have you been?” Jonathan questions but it comes out rough, judgemental. He clenches his jaw, he didn’t realize how much her absence really bothered him until now. He can’t shake how unfair it is, the two of them basically on house arrest, not being able to leave without a good enough reason. But she can come and go as she pleases.

“Working” she defends, clearly agitated.

“You could’ve called” he grumbles, his resentment crawling its way out.

"Julie had an emergency with the baby, it was a last minute thing” she explains,

“Would’ve been nice to know” he complains, he watches her shudder and it hits like a gut punch that he sounds just like Lonnie. With shaky hands, he gathers the bowl and walks to the table knowing he needs to reign back in his anger but unsure how.

“What’s for dinner? I’m starving” Mom asks as she sits down.

“Hamburger Helper” he responds, disdain on full display.

Mom stares at him as he takes his seat and he motions for her to do the same. She shakes her head, smiles at Will and Jonathan lets out a breath trying to dispel his anger.

“Did you get a chance to pick up razors?” he questions, already knowing she’s forgotten about him again.

“What?” she asks, as she serves Will first.

“I asked if you could get them this morning” he reminds, concentrating on the condensation on his glass so he doesn’t feel disappointed.

“Oh sweetie, I’m sorry I completely spaced” she apologizes, but it sounds fake like his request never really took hold.

“It’s fine," he says, resigned that he missed his window of opportunity this morning and he’s only got himself to blame.

Jonathan pushes food around his plate as Mom asks Will about school. What little attention she has is entirely focused on his tale of dissecting owl scat with Mike. It’s like they’re in a play and he’s the audience member. He finds himself longing for the days when Bob at least tried to engage with him and he wasn’t so ignored. So invisible. Who’s he kidding? Even if Bob were here to ask about his day or his music or Nancy he would’ve ignored him. Or given some half-assed answer. He feels hot under the chandelier and the low hum from the stereo is too loud. Maybe he should cancel his date. Suddenly, his fork feels too heavy and he nearly drops food on himself like Will when he was a toddler.

“Where’d you get that scarf?” Mom questions and it takes him a beat to realize she’s asking him.

“Oh uh Nancy gave it to me” he answers in a whisper, fearful that the mere mention of his girlfriend will send mom into another grief spiral.

“You two have been spending an awful lot of time together lately” she muses, with a small smile.

“Uh yea well you know” he shrugs, clearing his throat.

Will scoffs, rolls his eyes and Jonathan glares at him.

“It’s nice” Mom says simply.

“Hmm?”

“That you’re teaching her how to drive it’s nice of you” She elaborates with another gentle smile.

“More like trying to” he jokes, his troubles melting away at the thought of Nancy at the wheel.

Briefly, Mom’s smile falters and reminds himself not to look too lovesick. It’s not fair to her. Bob should be here, she should be happy and in love too.

“Can you teach me how to drive too?” Will beseeches gleefully.

“Yea”

“Yea?” Will questions, his whole face lighting up with delight.

“Yea totally” Jonathan confirms with a wide grin. He doubts that Will could reach the pedals, but maybe if he grows by summer.

“Maybe in three years” Mom reprimands, putting a damper on their fun.

He’s really not sure what the big deal is, he knew how to drive at fourteen. Although the only reason he learned that early was “for emergencies”. But it’s not like there’s any harm in practicing out on Denfield where no one will notice. Will would probably be a better driver than Nancy at this point. Or at least easier to teach.

“Oh Mom?”

“Hmmm”

“Can you teach me to dance?” Will asks earnestly, mouthful of noodles.

“What?”

“For the Snowball” he explains nervously.

Jonathan gains a renewed interest in the plates they’ve had since he was seven. He has a sinking suspicion this isn’t going to go over well. Personally, he wouldn’t have brought it up so soon but maybe Will is just excited?

“You're going to the Snowball?” Mom asks in disbelief, glancing from Jonathan back to Will.

“Yea”

“I don’t...”

“But Jonathan's going too, right Jonathan?” Will shouts, and he straightens up.

“Right” Jonathan confirms, nodding along.

“What?”

“He's volunteering with Nancy so it’s ok if I go right?” Will informs more than asks, his head high.

“Well uh-”

“Speaking of, is it ok if I see a movie with Nancy tonight?” Jonathan requests before she can turn Will down. Because he figures they might as well go all out.

She pauses for a moment, looking at him like he’s an alien. Maybe it’s an unfair ask on his part? He’s really not sure how this whole asking to go out on dates thing works. He’s not sure what he’ll do if she says no, call Nancy and apologize? Sneak out the window? He really should’ve figured out his strategy earlier instead of sitting here with baited breath.

“Fine, as long as you're home by ten” she resigns, confused.

“Ten thirty?” he pleads, no doubt pushing his luck.

She stares at him wide eyed and he already knows the answer is no. Sure, his motivations for wanting to be out later aren’t exactly wholesome but it could at least be a discussion. She could at least try to treat him like an adult.

“Ten, I don't need a call from Karen about you keeping her up all night” she maintains.

But something about the way she phrases it makes him gag on his soda and Will is barely able to contain his laughter.

“Are you alright?” Mom panics, raising her hand to pat his back.

“Yea fine, fine” he dismisses, pushing her hand away and panicking that somehow she knows about their sleepover. God he does not want to have ‘The Talk’ with her… again. It was awkward enough the first time.

“Does that mean I can stay at the arcade longer?” Will questions barely above a whisper.

“The arcade?”

“Well it’s just…Jonathan… Jonathan said I could go if I finished my work and everyone is going and-”

Mom’s lips are pressed together tight, and Will looks like he's about to cry

“I can pick him up, it's fine.” Jonathan appeals.

“No, it’s no" she brushes him off and sighs loudly. "I’ll pick you up at nine” she informs Will, firmer than normal.

“That’s not fair!” he protests.

“Will, sweetie we talked about this”

Except, Will’s had enough talking. With a bravery Jonathan didn’t know he had, he rises from his chair, grabs his coat and makes his way to the door, slamming it for good measure. He sits there stunned, wondering what would happen if he pulled a stunt like that. Mom puts her head in her hands and they sit in silence.

He knows the circumstances aren’t normal, but the part of him that would’ve given anything to have the kind friends Will has at his age. Surely she has to remember what that felt like? Surely, she must have had friends? She sighs and it almost sounds like crying.

“He just wants to be like the rest of his friends you know” Jonathan breaks the silence, gathering their plates from the table.

She sniffles as he dumps most of his dinner in a container and misses Chester deeply.

“I know but-”

“He's almost fourteen. I was out way later when I was his age” Jonathan says, but there’s hardly any bite to it. It’s just a fact. In his head Miss Kelly asks again if he felt young but he shrugs it off.

“That's not the-”

“And you know Mike wouldn't let anything happen” Jonathan reassures, because while Mike may be obnoxious about his sister’s love life he’s also a loyal friend.

“I know but-”

“Mom, he hasn't had an episode since.” he claims, resolutely looking her straight in the eye.

Neither of them have the strength to take Will back to the lab but Hopper wouldn’t lie about that. And other than the occasional nightmare, Will’s the most normal he’s been in a year. He doubts that an extra hour with his pals is going to change that. She takes a deep breath and he knows that somehow he’s managed to break through her funk.

“Tell him if Karen picks them up at nine he can stay at Mike's until you drop off Nancy but if not-”

“He calls you got it” he finishes, eager to head out before she changes her mind.

Jonathan pulls on his own jacket, checks for his keys and then grabs Will’s from the counter. He looks at her once more before he leaves and something about her hollow expression just looks well sad. He stops in his tracks, guilt stabs him like a knife she shouldn’t be alone. She should be going out with Bob, or at least watching Cheers with him or something.

“Maybe you should call Hopper” he suggests, even though he knows she won’t

“Excuse me?” she sputters, blinking at him in confusion.

“Just so you know you aren’t all alone tonight.” he rationalizes, quietly trying to disguise his pity.

“I'm sure he's got other plans.” she dismisses, shaking her head nervously.

“Yea right, see you later” he concludes, he’s not sure what compels him, maybe it’s the guilt, or the sympathy he feels for her watching her children leave but he kisses her on the head as a goodbye.

About half an hour later, he’s confidently showing Nancy the best seats in auditorium two feeling almost lightheaded from how happy he is to be back with her. She trusts his recommendation and passes him her cherry coke before sitting down. Once she’s situated, he takes the seat next to her and places the drink into the cup holder.

Cautiously, he wraps his arm around her shoulders and Nancy leans into his shoulder. But he suddenly tenses and his stomach flips, what if she thinks he’s trying to hook up in here? Quickly, he retracts his arms and wrings his hands together in his lap.

“You ok?” she whispers, tilting her head.

“Fine” he whispers back.

Nancy nods, and in the glow of the projector he swears he sees a mischievous gleam in her eye. He swallows hard, trying to brush it off. Then she lifts his hand and cocoons herself underneath his arm, and really how is he supposed to argue with that. Weariness pulls at his eyes as the previews start but he blinks it away trying to stay in the moment.

“Jonathan?” Nancy calls, muddled.

“Mhhm” he responds, but it doesn’t quite sound right.

“Jonathan, honey, wake up” she implores sweetly, and he can feel her padding his knee.

Slowly but surely he opens his eyes to a near empty theater. Nancy’s leaning over, almost too close and he clears his throat.

“I fell asleep?” he asks, groggy.

“Yea, pretty early honestly” she smiles softly.

“Shit uh sorry, um how was the movie?” he asks, trying to stretch his neck.

“Amusing” she decides, lips slightly parted and intently watching him.

She has the faintest glow in her cheeks. Suddenly he’s aware of her hand in his hair, how close she is and how fucking bright it is.

“Um, should we go?” he suggests, wetting his lips.

“Before they kick us out yea” she agrees, eyes laser focused on his mouth.

Jonathan doesn’t remember driving back to her house, but admittedly it’s hard to concentrate on anything that isn’t the way Nancy sighs as he kisses her neck and the silky feeling of her tights covering her thighs underneath his palm. He detaches his mouth and she whines, sending a lighting bolt through him. He crashes his lips back into hers, breathing hard and inching his hand up higher.

She tugs at the back of his neck, trying to pull him in impossibly closer as she deepens the kiss. He strokes her upper thigh and she breaks away, panting and gasping. But it only turns him on more and he finds his way back to her weak spot on her neck. Reveling in the feeling of her warm skin against his lips. Nancy moans and his hand climbs finding the waistband of her tights, but he pulls away waiting for the go ahead before making any assumptions.

“Baby” she barely gets out between breaths.

She looks a complete mess, disheveled frizzy curls, swollen wet lips, violent crimson blush in her cheeks and a purple mark blooming underneath her pulled down collar. His breath hitches and he aches for her. He cups both of his hands around her face and kisses her again.

“Jonathan” she murmurs against his lips.

“Hmm?”

“I need to go”

Reality comes crashing in, he pulls away and frowns. Nancy gives him a once over, eyes lowering to his midsection and he looks away embarrassed.

“You need to take Will home” she insists, swallowing hard like she’s trying to convince herself more than him.

He groans but scoots back trying to give her space to readjust while he thinks of something boring like his old paper route.

“I know” she soothes, as she adjusts her hiked up skirt “But I don’t want your mom thinking I’m keeping you up all night”

Jonathan huffs out a laugh, leaning his head back.

“What’s so funny?” Nancy asks, attempting to smooth down her hair.

“Nothing” he answers, taking her hand, gazing at her and wondering how the hell he got so lucky.

“They’re probably watching” she complains, twisting their hands.

“I don’t think they can see anything” he reassures, inching closer again

“I’m pretty sure Lucas left his binoculars” she huffs.

“No uh the windows” he points behind her to the fogged up glass and placing his hand on her hip.

“Oh”

“Yea”

“I hadn’t noticed” she jokes, with a wry smile.

“Neither did I” he huffs, before kissing her again. Temporarily, she loses herself and the fire sparks under his skin.

“I really have to go” Nancy chastises, pulling away before the fire can catch.

It takes everything in him not to whine at the loss of her lips on his. Jonathan takes a deep breath, trying to come back down to earth. He wonders if the Wheelers will notice if he sneaks up to her room later just to spend a few more minutes with her. Probably not, they didn’t exactly realize when he slept over last time, or when he brought her home on Halloween, so he doubts they’d notice now.

He clears his throat, finally regains enough sense to notice that she’s biting her lip, she wants to ask him something and selfishly he hopes that it’s to stay the night. It would be so easy to crawl into her bed, hold her tight and let every single one of his problems slip away. But then again who’d take Will to school? Or find mom’s keys? As much as he wants to stay, to linger in their happy glow it seems just out of reach.

Nancy darts her eyes away and gently removes his hand from its resting place on her hip to weave their fingers together. Jonathan swallows hard, suddenly filled with an immense dread that she’s about to tell him something horrible. This is it, the other shoe is finally dropping.

“My mom wants to know if you’ll come to dinner?” she blurts, voice riddled with anxiety.

She scans his face for some reaction, her brows scrunched together. It’s almost amusing, Nancy Wheeler unafraid of interdimensional monsters, terrified of asking her boyfriend to dinner. He smiles in spite of himself.

“Dinner?” he questions, with just a hint of sass.

“Yea she’s making a big deal out of us dating and wants you to come to dinner” she rambles, still nervously squeezing his hand.

“I think I can manage that” he resolves with a confidence that is almost entirely foreign to him.

“You sure?” she worries.

“Well it depends” he exaggerates “Is Mike gonna be there?” he grins.

Nancy rolls her eyes, huffs, and gives him a playful shove.

“If it's important to you, I'll be there” he promises in a soft whisper.

Nancy takes a sharp breath, in the dim light her eyes sparkle and then she kisses him fiercely, like she’s staking her claim. And just like that he’s burning up again, his hands seem to instinctively find her hair, her tendrils wrapping around his fingers. Nancy grabs at his waist, almost as if to steady herself, but ends up pulling him towards her in the process.

Suddenly, she pulls away and he watches the rise and fall of her chest as she takes in heavy breaths. For a moment, they breathe in sync both releasing small exhales into the muggy air.

“So umm when do you wanna come over?” she questions.

Now he thinks. Now would be a great time to come over

“For dinner?” she clarifies when he doesn’t answer

“Right uh” he shakes his head, trying to get the image of her bed out, “I think my mom’s off in a couple days so”

“Okay”

“Okay”

“Okay, um, I really need to go. I l…” she pauses, glances downward and then meets his gaze again “I’ll see you tomorrow” she finishes with a slight nod.

“Tomorrow” he confirms, trying not to sound disappointed.

A couple days and a couple ignored calls later, they come home to a dark house and what little high spirits he had go tumbling down.

Because it's clear from the half folded laundry, the cleaned but not put away dishes and the TV still playing in the living room that something has set mom spiraling again.

It has to be Lonnie, he finally called when he wasn't home to screen and said some bullshit to Mom that made her hole up in her room again.

He shuts off the TV and ruffles Will's hair, trying not to let his worry show. But a sigh escapes from him, of all the nights to shut down it has to be the one when he has plans.

He can't cancel on Nancy, as much as she denies it, he knows she's looking forward to tonight, that she's trying to make it special for him. Why else would she tell him that Mrs Wheeler is making his favorite strawberry pretzel tart that she usually only brings out for the holidays.

But more than that, it's important to him. He doesn't just wanna be the guy at the bottom of their driveway making out with their daughter to the Wheelers. He needs them to know he's serious about her, about their relationship, about their future together. Whatever meltdown Mom's having he's just going to have to solve it later.

Quickly, he finishes up his homework, pops in the shower and then goes over his options. Nancy said not to worry about clothes but…he pulls his white button down from his closet; it's tighter over his shoulders than he remembers but still wearable. He pulls on his nicest pair of jeans, still a little stiff, not quite worn in.

He tries his best to style his hair or at least make sure it dries flat. Then he goes to the kitchen to supervise as Will makes grilled cheese and tomato soup. He figures he can start him with the basics and they'll go from there. The first one comes out burnt to crisp and Jonathan uses it as a teaching moment to explain why you start on medium.

They work together to finish up dinner and he pulls on his jacket and makes his way towards the back of the house. Jonathan knows that she's probably just in bed, under the covers hiding from the world but he can't shake the fear of the unknown. Or the way it makes him feel like a child again, begging for her attention.

“Mom” he calls, softly rapping at the door.

He can hear her shifting around but he can't hear her walking up.

“I made soup and grilled cheese, Do you want some?” he offers, checking his watch and crossing his arms.

He rocks on his heels, taking some comfort in the motion and counting. One one thousand. If she doesn’t show he’ll just leave, it’s not like Will’s alone. Two one thousand. What would she do? If Will was asking instead? Three one thousand. Appear undoubtedly. Get her shit together. Four one thousand. His chest aches with something all too familiar. Five one thousand. But he’s not jealous of Will. Is he?

Suddenly, the door opens, startling him. Mom stands there staring at him almost catatonic, wrapped in a blanket like a funeral shroud and looking small. Well, smaller than normal, like the weight of her depression has physically shrunk her. This can’t be the same woman that went toe to toe with the feds to get Will back.

"It's uh in the kitchen" he informs, turning away to ignore the sadness of looking at her.

Jonathan guides her through the house, not bothering to look back. He can hear her following him but she doesn’t say anything. Inside, his nerves compound into a jangled twisted mess. How long would this spell last? Another day? A week? A month? A year? He exhales heavily, trying to release some of his knots.

"Ok, uh, sandwiches and soup and uh there's an extra one on the stove if you guys wanna split that" Jonathan explains, dropping her off at the kitchen table.

"You're not eating!?" Mom exclaims, looking frantic.

"No, uh, I’m-I'm going to the Wheelers for dinner" he informs the ground more than her.

"Oh"

He glances up, carefully examining her face for some reaction. But it’s blank as ever, if it weren’t for her blinking he’d think she short-circuited.

"Yea" he nods, the corners of his mouth turning upwards slowly but surely at the thought of Nancy.

"You're not going to the Wheelers too?" Mom questions, looking at Will and all at once his smile fades.

"Can I???" Will asks, grinning impishly like he’s already plotting exactly how he and Mike will embarrass him.

"No!" Jonathan orders, attempting to put a stop to his brother's idea of fun.

"Jonathan!" Mom reprimands, glaring at him. His jaw drops, he can’t believe she’s taking Will’s side in this.

"Mom, seriously?" He pleads, his voice low.

"What I'm sure Karen-"

"Can't I just" Jonathan interjects and then pauses, formulating some way to hold his ground but still make it fair. He sighs, "I can bring Will next time I promise but tonight I'd like to go alone if that's ok"

His eyes bounce between the stove, the fridge, the wallpaper and back down to the ground. Time passes like molasses as she deliberates. His stomach is in knots and he wonders if she can even relate. If she ever anxiously paced around her room hemming and hawing over which dress to wear to meet Lonnie’s family. He doubts it seriously, he can't imagine a time when his parents conformed to something so traditional. A part of him can't believe he's conforming to something so traditional.

When she brought Bob home they sat at the dining room table for the first time since Easter and Jonathan was an asshole the whole night. Ignoring Bob's questions, loudly pushing his food around his plate and just generally sulking. But Bob filled every brief silence with a funny anecdote or corny joke. And if mom was nervous it didn't show, she seemed at ease. Maybe dating is easier when you've already divorced. The worst case scenario has already happened. You have less to lose.

"Ok honey" she yields at last.

Jonathan smiles and nods, ruffling Will’s hair and kissing her on the cheek as he leaves the kitchen.

"Jonathan" Mom calls before he gets too far.

"Yea" he replies, stopping in his tracks as his stomach twists.

"Why don't you put your black sweater over your shirt. It matches better" she recommends.

"Right uh thanks mom" he appreciates.

Jonathan takes her advice and rushes to his room to find his sweater amongst the clutter. He really should clean up around here at some point. Once he pulls his sweater on, he dashes out the door. The night air is brisk, but he reaches the shelter of his car quickly enough. With less fuss than normal, the engine roars to life and he peels out of the driveway.

Even the lively noise of Talking Heads can't drown out the silence permeating through Hawkins tonight. Or maybe Burning Down The House just wasn't the best choice for a soundtrack on his journey. Jonathan swears the drive to the Wheeler's house has never taken this long.

During the month he ran cross country freshman year he was able to run there in seven minutes. It really should only be a three minute drive max. But somehow it's taking forever. Maybe his car is finally dying, maybe it's the snow or maybe it's the mere prospect of walking straight into the lion's den.

Jonathan grips the wheel harder and takes a deep breath. It's really not that serious. He's known the Wheeler's since first grade after all. He practically lived at their house when his parents were getting divorced.

Finally, he reaches the end of Cornwallis and makes a quick turn onto Dearborn before swinging onto Maple. The whole neighborhood seems to glow from Christmas lights and he feels a pang of envy realizing that none of these people are worried about the extra charge. He swallows it down as he parks across the Cul de Sac from the Wheelers, trying not to take up too much space. Out of the corner of his eye, he swears he sees Mrs. Humphrey peering from her picture window but the curtains are shut by the time he looks again. He shakes it off, picking up the bouquet he bought on the way over from the passenger seat.

Nancy must have been waiting for him, because she’s sneaking out the front door by the time he’s at the curb. He hustles up the walkway, as she wraps her arms around herself and shivers. He’s almost annoyed she didn’t just wait inside, but he wonders if maybe she’s just as nervous as he is. Then she motions for him to hurry up and he realizes that’s not the case.

“Hey you didn’t have to-”

“Hey, come here” she demands and he complies, inching in closer to her.

Out of one of her pockets she pulls out a chunky black piece of fabric and he has flashbacks to all his failed attempts.

“Oh please no” he begs, as she lifts the collar of his shirt.

“Just trust me” Nancy persuades with a smile.

Jonathan can hear his heart throb in his ears but he can’t figure out if it’s because she’s so close or that he’s terrified of either of her parents opening the door right this second.

“Are you ok?” she questions, as she wraps the tie around his neck.

“Yea, I'm just…”

Nancy looks at him with her big inquisitive eyes and for a second he thinks about confessing all of his worries: Lonnie wants something, he’s going to fail Algebra Two, Mom’s possibly losing her mind, he can’t find his left glove, he’s going to disappoint her, he’s already disappointing her, he’s a shitty boyfriend, whatever they have between them isn’t strong enough to withstand all his faults.

“Nervous?” she finishes, deftly looping the fabric through an opening.

“Yea”

“Well don't be it's going to be fine” She promises, intensely concentrated on her knot work.

“Then why are you putting me in a tie?” he questions, tilting his head away.

“Because I thought you’d look handsome” she answers, cinching the knot upward.

“Too tight” he wheezes.

“Sorry” she apologizes, grimacing.

Nancy loosens the knot, but not enough for his liking. Then she tucks the tie underneath his sweater and pats his chest.

“I was right” she decides, gazing at him like he’s a rare treasure. Like something she cherishes, like something she loves…His breath hitches at the thought, a small puff in the night air. Nancy tiptoes up and tenderly kisses his mouth.

“Now let's go in, it's freezing out here” she instructs, taking his free hand and he willingly follows her to his doom.

As they step inside, there’s music playing in the other room that he vaguely recognizes as Vivaldi. Nancy gently peels his jacket off and he’s grateful for it because her house feels like a furnace. Out of habit, he moves to head up the stairs. The handful of times he's been over in the last few weeks have been spent hidden away in her room getting lost in each other. Which he’d much rather be doing if he’s honest and the extra perfume Nancy’s wearing isn’t exactly helping.

“Ted I said the good China” Mrs. Wheeler shouts, breaking his patterns.

“What’s the difference?” Mr. Wheeler deadpans.

“You seriously don’t know by now?” she criticizes.

“Oh honestly Karen, it’s the Byers boy not the Queen of England” Ted dismisses, agitated just as they step into the dining room.

“Mom, Dad, Jonathan’s here” Nancy announces, glaring at her father.

Her parents break from their bickering to greet him. Mrs. Wheeler gives him a warm, kind smile and Mr. Wheeler looks at him like he’s nobody important. He swallows hard and smiles back like he’s not thinking about sneaking into Nancy’s bed after dinner.

“Uh these are for you” Jonathan offers, passing his meager bouquet of pink carnations to Mrs. Wheeler and trying to ignore the vibrant red poinsettia at the center of the dining table.

“Oh thank you Jonathan, so sweet” Karen compliments like he’s twelve and offering to help take lemonade out to the kids.

“Why don’t you take a seat, Ted’s just finishing setting the table” she suggests, glaring at her husband for good measure.

“Nance, can you grab Holly?” Mrs. Wheeler instructs, walking back into the kitchen before Nancy can answer.

She loosens her grip on his hand, frowning as she wanders off to find her baby sister. Suddenly, Jonathan feels very alone as Mr. Wheeler picks up the plates that really are nicer than anything Jonathan’s ever eaten off of.

“Good luck” Mike taunts, appearing at his side out of nowhere.

Fifteen minutes later, Mrs.Wheeler is placing a heaping slice of meatloaf on his plate. Before Jonathan can protest, she scoops a mound of mashed potatoes and settles them beside the slice. Even in a normal circumstance, it’d be way too much food but with his stomach in knots it seems almost impossible.

“Thanks” he murmurs, mindful of his manners even though he’s sure Mr. Wheeler thinks he doesn’t have any.

Karen smiles in response, then fills her cup nearly to the brim with white wine. Nancy clears her throat and Ted grumbles. A devilish grin builds on Mike’s face, and Jonathan swears he hears him mumble ‘showtime’.

“Do you want a glass Jonathan?” Karen asks, holding up the bottle of chardonnay.

“Uhh” he stalls watching Holly drop potatoes on her highchair.

“Normally, I wouldn’t but it’s a special occasion” she insists, inching the bottle closer.

“Yea, sure I guess” he agrees, swallowing hard, uncomfortable with the idea of presence being special enough to warrant underage drinking. That should be saved for Christmas, or shitty parties, or blackmailing the government.

“Mom, Jonathan’s driving” Nancy reminds, through gritted teeth.

“It’ll be fine Nancy you worry too much” she chides, he nods a thank you and has a drink out of obligation.

Instantly, he regrets it. It’s just as bad as vodka but in a different way, more like swallowing acid. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Nancy stare at him in disbelief. If this was some test, he’s clearly failed.

“Here you can have some too” Karen insists, filling Nancy’s glass.

“So what? Nancy gets to break the rules just because Jonathan put on a tie?” Mike contends stabbing his broccoli and startling Holly.

“Michael” Karen hisses, gently patting Holly’s arm to comfort her.

He takes a bite of meatloaf and wonders if dinner is always like this or they’re going above and beyond in their dramatics for his part.

“Karen, I think he’s got a point. It's not like we let her drink last Sunday” Ted states, and Jonathan can’t tell if he’s annoyed at his wife or that he’s agreeing with his son.

“What happened last Sunday?” he asks, trying to change the subject. Next to him, Nancy straightens and takes a drink, steeling herself.

“We had a couple of friends over to talk with Nancy about IU” Karen informs casually, looking at her eldest wistfully.

“IU?”

“It’s just my backup school” Nancy whispers, like it’s something scandalous.

“Indiana University, best four years of my life. College is really where a boy becomes a man” Ted imparts, as Karen refills her glass.

Jonathan quietly nods because he’s pretty sure his tenth birthday anecdote isn’t polite conversation and he'd rather die than spend four years in Bloomington. For a moment, the table is quiet except for the patter of forks on plates and sounds of chewing.

“What about you Jonathan?” Karen questions, just as he’s starting to think he might make it through this.

“Hmm”

“Where do you want to go to school?” Karen elaborates, cheerfully, blissfully unaware that it’s been keeping him up at night.

“Oh uh, well I’d like to go to NYU” Jonathan informs, holding his head high.

“Or Emerson” Nancy interjects.

“Right or Emerson and study photography” he continues, smiling. Nancy places her hand on top of his and he mentally congratulates himself for answering correctly even if they haven’t discussed since Fort Wayne.

“Art School?” Ted barks, judgementally scowling at him.

“Preferably” he responds, biting the inside of cheek.

“That’s wonderful Jonathan” Karen commends, taking another drink.

“You know not that many people make it in the big city” Ted harps, dismissively.

“I-”

“You should see his photos, they're really special” Nancy retorts and he drinks to drown out Steve’s voice calling him a perv.

Mike snickers, laughing at some joke he doesn’t want to tell the rest of them.

“About one in four, it’s rather ambitious don’t you think?” Ted questions undeterred.

“Well-”

“Jonathan’s grades are really good Daddy” Nancy remarks and he takes another sip of wine to hide his irritation, silently wondering if she’s going to let him speak for himself at all. He doesn’t need her to defend him just because he doesn’t have as concrete of a plan as she does.

“I mean with working all the time do you even have any extracurriculars?” He grills.

“I’m in-”

“We’re in yearbook together” she interrupts and he twitches.

“Weren’t you arrested last year?” Ted asks nonchalantly, delivering a death blow.

“Ted!” Karen shrieks, and Holly fusses.

“It’s just a question” Ted defends himself.

“I…” he hesitates, trying to figure out where to even begin to explain that.

“That was a misunderstanding.” Nancy resolves, and his chest feels tight. Does she just not trust him at all?

He shoves mashed potatoes into his mouth trying to keep his temper at bay, but sputters from the dryness. Mike howls with laughter until Nancy kicks him under the table. Jonathan gulps down wine to fix the problem but it burns. Why the hell would Karen willingly drink this shit?

“I know” Ted snaps his fingers oblivious to his children’s screaming match, “You should join the armed forces, heck they’ll pay for college”

“Yea, if they don’t kill me.” he scoffs, and Nancy stops threatening to kill her brother long enough to stare at him mouth agape. Horrified.

“Well, forgive me but I just don’t think art school is very sensible, especially for a man in your situation” Ted criticizes with a huff.

Jonathan’s jaw tightens. His situation?

“But getting blown up for this country is?” he grumbles, incapable of letting it go like Chester and his prized chew toy.

“It’s an honor to give your life for this country” Ted rebuttals and Jonathan can’t believe he’s serious.

“Yea sure, rounding up all the poor misfortunate kids and letting em die in the jungle and then calling-calling us heroes without ever really giving a fuck. What an honor!” he explodes, his whole body burning.

“Jonathan!” Nancy shouts, reeling him back in.

“Excuse me” he says, more to the stupid good China than to her family.

He rushes away from them, keeping his head low so he can’t see Nancy’s disappointment.

“Ted I can’t believe you” he overhears Karen scold when he reaches the kitchen.

“What? I’m being realistic” Ted counters, as he shuts the bathroom door.

Jonathan catches a glimpse of his scowl in the mirror and even he can’t deny the resemblance to his father. His stomach lurches at the thought, he barely makes it to the toilet in time to expel his dinner. He breathes heavily, ragged, tired. New York City. Who the fuck does he think he’s fooling?

There’s a knock at the door and he’s sure it’s Nancy coming to kick him out. Tell him she never wants to see him again. He ignores her, weakly lifting his arm to flush. Somehow, he has enough strength to get himself off the floor and to the sink. He leans on the basin as he washes his hands, and rinses his mouth out, carefully avoiding looking at his reflection.

There’s the knock again and he ignores it again. He knows he can’t hide in here forever but he can try. Then the knob rattles and the door swings open revealing Mrs. Wheeler, bobby pin in one hand, glass of water in the other. He stares at her, wondering where she learned to pick a lock and when she learned to knock on a door.

“Uh” he stalls, staring at his shoes, buying time to think of an appropriate apology.

“The first time Ted took me home I spilled red wine all over the table cloth after saying we were fucking idiots for entering into Vietnam” she recalls sentimentally, handing him the water and two aspirin.

He takes them both without protest.

“I wanted to join the peace corps. Change the world” she laughs but her smile fades and her eyes dull.

He’s not sure what to say, so he just doesn’t. He knows how her story ends. The same ways it ends for so many in Hawkins.

“Don’t get stuck Jonathan” Karen advises, her voice cracking. He nods and sniffles.

Dessert is an awkwardly quiet affair, even Mike is subdued. He regrets not leaving when he had the chance. His beloved strawberry pie is almost sickeningly sweet and his body aches. Once everyone finishes, he helps Karen wash the dishes, figuring it’s the least he can do. He apologizes to the Wheelers again as part of his goodbyes. Nancy insists on escorting him to his impending doom, but she makes him grab his own coat, her lips pressed tight, eyes steely.

The walk to his car is deadly quiet, truthfully Jonathan probably wouldn’t even notice if she stopped following him. He knows she only came out here to chastise him in private, berate him for not behaving better. For causing a fuss instead of playing nice but he wishes she’d just get it over with.

Not sensible.

Not sensible

Not sensible.

What is he even doing? Dating her? Having Dinner with her parents? Pretending like there’s a space for him here? Like he can acclimate to their picture perfect life at the end of the cul de sac. An awful sickness threatens to rise from his stomach again, did Nancy want to change him? To fit him into this mold no matter how misshapen it might be. After all, she wrangled him into this stupid tie, provided his answers to Mr. Wheeler’s endless questions, and insisted on the dinner in the first place.

Or worse, maybe he is just part of her teenage rebellion.

He steps off the curb, reaching for his keys in his pocket but suddenly turns around in a rush. Obviously, taking her by surprise.

“I don't want to be normal” Jonathan claims, brashly.

“Well yea, I mean that train has definitely left the station” Nancy snarks from the elevated curb framed perfectly by her imposing house.

“I'm serious! I'm not going to spend my life behind some desk crunching numbers and-and worrying about stocks or-or mergers or acquisitions” he rants, with an anger that he thought he had safely bottled away, “I know everyone wants me to have some sensible foresight and get serious about my future but I’m not gonna be some-some office drone. That’s not me”

Nancy’s brows knit together and her mouth moves like she’s trying to find the perfect thing to say. But he doesn’t want to give her the chance.

“And I’m not going to-”

“I know” she says sternly, resolutely.

Then before he can think to get another word in she wraps her arms around him pulling him near and rests her forehead on his. The sudden intimacy is almost too much and he fights every instinct he has to break free from her hold. He breathes in the night air and slowly but surely, the ice around his heart begins to melt but he's not sure he likes the feeling. She's almost too close like this, he feels almost too seen like there's nowhere to hide, like he's overexposed.

“I know” she repeats, softer this time like anything louder than a whisper will pop the bubble she's wrapped him in.

From the dim corners of his mind, a bright memory emerges of her swearing off a dull life in the suburbs as she aimed at rusty tin cans. And he had doubted her, and called her average, and acted like he was sixty years older instead of six months. All because being misunderstood by her somehow hurt him just as badly as having to kill that poor rabbit on that crisp autumn day.

“Promise me we'll never fight over China patterns?” Jonathan requests, his voice cracking.

“I promise we will never fight over China patterns” Nancy swears with a laugh, and in spite of all his cynicism he believes.

She lets him go slowly, almost fearfully, like she’s all that’s keeping him in place. She releases him with a sigh and he crosses his arms around himself. She’s ethereal in the warm glow of the streetlamp, snowflakes gently falling into her hair like some strange angel of winter.

“You should go inside” he suggests quietly.

“And listen to them argue some more? No thank you” she laughs, glancing behind her shoulder to check if anyone’s watching.

“It’s just late and I gotta get home” he explains, the last thing he needs is his mom calling the Wheelers.

“I could go with you sneak in your window again” she offers, enthusiastically.

Jonathan considers it, something about the way her blue eyes sparkle almost makes him say yes. But it’s selfish, to take more of her kindness than he already has, and the call of isolation is too strong for him to ignore. He needs to lick his own wounds.

“I kinda wanna be alone if that's ok” he admits, and she frowns.

“Oh um ok, well call me if you change your mind, or if you just wanna talk or just listen to me breathe.” she rambles.

“Yea I will” he nods, and she smiles leaning down to give him a kiss he doesn’t deserve.

Jonathan takes the long way home, he knows he shouldn't. Knows that Mom is undoubtedly waiting up for him, anxious to make sure he's still in one piece, but he can't help himself. There's something cathartic about the well worn road, he doesn't have to think about the stops or the turns or the cracks.

Against his better judgement, he drives through downtown, in the window of the Radio Shack bright red letters want for a store manager. A lump forms in his throat but before he can think too much about it, he instinctively crawls to a stop in front of the Hawk.

In another life, he might’ve snuck Will and co into Dune tonight, in another yet one where Will never came home he might’ve skipped town by now ditched the tiny theater for the bright lights of some exotic far flung city shaking the dust from his feet. But no, he couldn't just leave mom. Could he?

His foot hits the gas harder, as if to outrun his shame.

Before he turns into the driveway, he stalls on the road for at least ten minutes. Ted Wheeler's voice berates him on loop. He's insensible, irresponsible and lackluster. One in four people make it big in New York City and he's the other three. Even Emerson seems out of reach now. Nancy's going to traipse across Boston holding someone else's hand.

All of his dreams are dead in the water and he's going to drown with them in the whirlpool that is Hawkins. This is the Maldonado curse and it's going to swallow him whole. He stifles his tears and takes a deep breath. Gradually, he crawls up the driveway before the snow piles up much more.

“Hey, you didn’t have to wait up” he says, putting up his jacket as he enters the house.

“Oh no I didn’t just there was a good episode on” mom explains, waving the remote.

“Right” he huff, playing along with her lies.

Jonathan stalls, rocking his heels. He notices the notches of his and Will’s heights and digs his fingers against them, practically leaning on the doorframe. His marks stop at thirteen, even though he’s grown at least five inches since then. His eyes wander back to mom, Karen’s advice on loop. Surely, this isn’t where she saw her life going. The white hot shame of never asking burns through him.

“What is it?” she questions, like she’s having a moment of clarity.

“Did you…” He pauses, trying to think of a better way to phrase his question, less accusatory, less bitter. “Did you ever want to leave?”

“Hmmm?”

“Hawkins” He spits out like the town is a dirty word.

Mom stalls, blinking but he doesn’t look away. Her lip wavers, and he fears he’s asked too much. That her own story is still too painful. She clears her throat and he straightens up giving her his full attention.

“I…” she hesitates, and he holds his breath, “My mother beat me to it” she sighs gravely.

But he perks up, he’s never heard her mention her parents. Cautiously, he crosses into the living room, and sits on the chair leaning in like she’s about to tell him about a nice little monkey and not a Maldonado tragedy.

“She was a nurse and she left to go help in Vietnam and then she just… never came back and your grandpa… he was sick so...” she elaborates, barely above a whisper, hands trembling like she’s scared.

“So you never left” he finishes.

“He needed me” she notes, desperation in her voice and he wonders which one of them she’s trying to convince.

Then, he remembers Will, small and frail in his hospital bed and how he watched Nancy walk away without saying anything because he just couldn't. For the briefest second, he catches the recognition in her eyes and their similarity frightens him.

“How was dinner?” She questions, breaking the connection.

“Fine, fine” he lies, “It was good uh Karen made meatloaf. Mr. Wheeler just talked a lot about IU, and law, and um how art school isn’t sensible” he chuckles nervously and mom frowns.

“Yea… yea I’m pretty sure he hates me” he sighs looking up at the ceiling so she won’t notice the tears in his eyes.

Mom scoffs, and he lowers his head, focusing on her again.

“If he thinks art school isn’t sensible, I’d hate to tell him about the Upside Down” she jokes.

“Yea” Jonathan laughs, almost in disbelief. He thinks it’s the first time she’s joked since before Halloween.

But his chest feels tight, his tired eyes find the stain on the carpet where he and Nancy made their pact. He fixates on it intensely, willing himself to believe his circumstances are different than hers. That what he has with Nancy is different than her and Lonnie. That he’s different.

“Hey look at me” she demands, and he obeys.

“Whatever you want to do I’ll support you, you know that right?” she promises, sharp-eyed and sure.

“Yea, yea I know” he sniffles, allowing himself to believe her just for a little while longer.

Mom looks at him fiercely, and he takes a shaky breath. Were his insecurities finally enough to peel back the layers of her grief? If he tells her everything: Emerson, Miss Kelly, Lonnie… how much he still needs her. Would it wake her up fully? Would she walk out of the cave reborn?

“Even if it’s law school” she jokes, and he actually laughs this time. But her confidence wanes and she’s shrouded again.

“Well, I think I’ll head to bed, don’t stay up too late” she announces, fleeing the room without so much as patting him on the head.

On a snowy, mundane, Wednesday morning, their expose is printed above the fold of the Chicago Sun-Times. Nancy makes him read the whole thing four times, carefully mulling over each word as he utters them. Allowing them to sink into the fabric of her being, but never once reading them herself. Her lip trembles once, but she doesn’t cry. During English, she swaps her seat for one by the window, leaving him uneasy when he can’t feel her presence for the first time all year.

At passing period, all eyes are on her: sad, sympathetic, pitiful, grateful too. That’s the worst look, when you know the other person is thinking that at least it’s not happening to them. Their life hasn’t been upended, it’s not their best friend who’s dead. Nancy navigates through, head held high with a kind of grace he didn’t know she had.

She drops him at Miss Kelly’s office like it’s just another day. Jonathan opens his mouth to say something meaningful but the words don’t come out. She squeezes his hand twice, keeping her dim eyes locked on his, he squeezes back and she nods wordlessly giving him a small smile before she lets go.

He watches her walk away until she’s left the hallway. Behind him the door clicks open and Chrissy exits sniffling, politely smiling as she passes. He can’t help but wonder if she’s off to find Nancy to grieve with her as an act of Kindergarten fealty. Some semblance of care remains between the girls in spite of everything. He pushes the old pang of jealousy and enters into the office, quietly taking a seat as Miss Kelly greets him.

“Chilly today huh?” she notes.

“Yea” he responds, zoned in on some motivational poster.

“Did you know Barbra well?” Miss Kelly asks, gently.

He thinks back to her sitting by the pool forlornly. He had taken her last photo because in that moment he did know her. Or at least, he recognized her. An outcast, shunned by her peers, left behind, abandoned.

“No, not really” he lies, “She and Nancy were friends”

“How’s she doing?”

“Well, I think? Or relieved… that things are… resolved” he guesses, conjuring her face in his mind.

He trails his eyes towards the window, following a cord to the corner where his lightbulb shines on the pothos. There’s no remarkable change, no sudden growth, but Jonathan has to believe that it’s helping, even if it doesn’t look like it. The alternative is just way too sad.

He turns his attention back to Miss Kelly, desperately searching her neutral face for some hint that she understands him that this isn’t all just a waste of his time. Her expression softens, and something about it makes him realize that you don’t make a career out of calming down scared kids unless you actually give a shit.

“Lonnie… My Da-dad, he keeps calling. An-and my mom… she uh doesn’t know. Or at least I don’t think she does” He confesses, barely able to keep himself from shaking.

“That's a pretty big secret to be keeping” she offers, gently.

“I don't know I guess” he sniffles, and she extends her crocheted box of tissues. He takes one even though his tears aren’t falling.

“Why do you think you feel like it's your responsibility to keep it?” She questions, folding her hands together.

“I can't just... my mom she's dealing with a lot… and it would upset her and I…” he excuses, ripping his tissue to shreds.

“And what about you?” she asks, and he looks up at her stunned. What about him?

“What?”

“It's upsetting you” she states, matter of fact.

“I can handle it” Jonathan answers, clenching his jaw.

“So you're prioritizing her comfort over yours?” she contends.

“No that's not… I just- I just don't see the point in telling her something that's not- that’s not exactly going to make her happy.” he explains, feeling like an idiot for believing she’d get it.

“Even at the expense of your own happiness?”

“I’m happy… you know when I’m with Nancy I’m..” he hesitates, every insecurity rearing its ugly head. “I’m happy”

“Does Nancy know about-”

“No” he cuts her off, acid rising in his throat at the idea of Lonnie and Nancy in the same room.

“Why not?”

He hesitates, unsure how to explain without sounding like a possessive weirdo. But the problem is he is possessive, Nancy is his. Or their relationship, at least, the way he loves her it's all something uniquely his own unspoiled by Lonnie. He'd have just as much trouble sharing his photographs with him.

And there's a fear that if Nancy were to truly and fully understand Lonnie she'd be disgusted that he comes from that.

“You're just a little screw-up like your father” Steve echoes in his mind and he breathes out hard.

“What her and I have ...that's just not a part of my life that I want her to worry about” Jonathan informs, slowly.

“Why?”

“Because it would... change things and I don't want that” he elaborates, shaky.

“Even if it brings you closer?” she asks and he scoffs.

She lets him distract himself with knick-knacks again and he braces himself for whatever fucked up leading question she’s preparing.

“Do you think you're afraid of change?” she asks like it’s an observation and not a question.

“Isn't everyone?” he jokes, wheezing a little. But she doesn’t laugh or even smile.

“Mmm”

Jonathan exhales heavily, tucking the tissue pulp into his pocket and focusing on his shoes again. He takes stock of his fortunes, Will is healthy, safe. Mom is slowly coming back to her senses… maybe And he’s got a girlfriend. How could he want more? He remembers the lego castle and he knows he does; He wants Will to be able to ride his bike again, for mom to not be so bogged down, to spend the night at Nancy’s without having to worry about consequences. Then he doubts again, things really could be worse.

“It's just…what if this is as good as it gets?” he admits, sniffling.

“So you’re afraid?” she decides.

He’s reminded of El in her makeshift bathtub reaching out into the unknown. Of Will somehow surviving in that dark cold place. And he's sure he couldn't do either of those things. There's too much uncertainty in the next hour let alone alternate dimensions.

He nods his head slowly, too embarrassed to speak.

“What if it’s not? Is that fear enough reason to not want more?” she questions.

Rather than wait for an answer, she pulls out a glossy pamphlet from a drawer and slides it towards. Rich, vibrant purple surrounds a photo of the Washington Arch centered below crisp white letters that read New York University.

“Something to think about” she offers gently.

‘You’ll be my little Violet’ mom responds in his faded kitchen memory, the details sharpening in his mind. Will had gotten an ear infection, his little forehead burning up while mom was working and dad ignored them to clean his guns. He remembers calling 911 on the old rotary phone, the ride in the ambulance, that was the first time she kicked Lonnie out. They made M&M cookies to celebrate, he swore he was going to go to NYU and she swore that things were going to be different, that it’d be the three of them together from now on.

Jonathan takes a deep breath, running his thumb along the scar on his left hand.

“Emerson, Nan…I'm thinking about Emerson too” he whispers, unable to take his eyes off the faint line across his palm.

“I'll see what I can do” Miss Kelly nods, making a note in his file.

After their session, he hides in the bathroom to wash his face and calm down. Convinces himself that just thinking about Boston isn’t a betrayal to mom and Will. Jonathan squares his shoulders, takes a deep, resolute breath in. He can’t shut down when Nancy needs him. Once he decides he’s stable enough, he leaves and walks the long hallway to meet her at her locker.

The rest of the day follows in a blur. He frantically scribbles down last minute lectures, annotates his books, and does his best to ignore the staring. At lunch, Nancy wraps the pay phone cord in knots as she’s talking to Mrs. Holland and her mom. When she hangs up, she wraps her arms around his middle, asks in a whisper if she can come over after school as if he could say no to her.

After school it takes zero effort to convince Will to go over to the Wheelers. He knows he’ll get shit for it later, but he also knows that Nancy’s vision of coming over doesn’t include all of their little brother’s friends either. He puts on Christmas music for the car ride over in the hopes of cheering her up, but she doesn’t even seem to notice. She’s too preoccupied with watching the snow flurries.

Once they get to his house they make a mad dash to the front door, Nancy uses her bookbag for cover and he nearly slips on the gravel but they safely reach the front porch. Jonathan fumbles through his keys as Nancy shivers but inside doesn’t offer much warmth either. It doesn’t escape his notice that she keeps her coat on. To his surprise, she makes her way into the living room instead of beelining for his bedroom like last time.

“Should I start a fire?” he offers as she investigates her surroundings.

Jonathan’s more embarrassed than he should be, he knows she’s seen it worse but the room isn’t exactly tidy. Stray jackets are strewn about the furniture, rogue empty cups dot the tables and there’s not a Christmas decoration in sight. Compared to her house, his looks, well, sad.

“If you want” she shrugs, taking interest in the cluttered decor “So cute” she coos, pointing to his baby photo above the radio.

He burns with so much embarrassment that a fire doesn’t seem necessary anymore. But, he goes through the motions diligently stacking kindling in the fireplace all the while keenly aware of her moseying about. When he’s satisfied with his pile, he rises to grab the matches from the kitchen.

“Can I put something on?” she asks, holding up a record as he passes by.

“Uh those are Mom's not mine” He informs, sneaking next to her.

“Does she like musicals” Nancy questions as he rifles through the junk drawer.

“What?” he shouts back.

“She’s got Fiddler on the Roof, Cabaret, Funny Girl you never noticed?” Nancy responds.

“No uh, usually she only plays Bob Dylan so…” he answers, shame eating at him as he finally finds the matches.

“Ooh the Fantasticks!” Nancy exclaims, scrunching her nose at him as he wanders back into the living room.

“Nancy I don't think we-”

“You worry too much” she teases, sliding the record out of the album and turning on the player.

“Wait, how do you know the Fantasticks?” he wonders, as music fills the room.

“I'm very cultured” Nancy insists with a wide grin.

“Oh yea?” he teases, crossing his arms and smiling at her.

“Yea, worldly even” she boasts.

Then to his surprise she starts humming along to the melody. Nancy seems in her own world as she peruses the collection.

“Oh I love this one” she comments more to herself than him.

It's strange to think he's known her forever and there's still so much he doesn't know. They still have so much to learn about each other. But he wants to know it all, and the next phase of life too. If love is a journey, then he wants to take the wheel and guide them to their next stop.

“Nancy?” He says softly, because he can’t just say ‘I love you’, he needs to know she’s paying attention.

“Yea?” she responds, tilting her head.

But the phone cuts him off like a death toll. He freezes. He doesn’t need to run. Dad’s not actually here.

“Are you going to get that?” she asks as it trills.

“I uh…no I’m-”

“What if it's your mom?” she questions, inching towards the phone.

“Nancy no wait!” he demands, snatching the phone before she can pick it up.

“How many times do I have to tell you? Stop. Calling” Jonathan growls into the receiver before Lonnie can do anything more than breathe.

Nancy stares at him wide eyed but before he can even try to explain Mom comes rushing into the room.

“Are you ok?” “Do you wanna go for a drive?” he and Nancy ask each other at the same time.

“Yea sure, can I have the keys?” Nancy pleads, fluttering her lashes.

“Yea if I wanted us to crash into a snowbank maybe” he snarks, a slow smile building.

“I’m a very responsible driver” she maintains, softly and he can’t help but feel lost in her eyes.

“You don’t even have your learners permit” he rebuttals with a smirk.

“Jonathan, who was that on the phone?” Mom questions, reminding him of her presence.

“No one important” he grumbles, looking away from Nancy.

“Wha-”

“We’re going out, do you need anything?” he questions.

“No but-”

“Ok, don’t wait up” he bids.

Quickly, he gently grabs Nancy’s wrist guiding her out of the house before mom can ask any more questions. He picks up Nancy’s book bag for her and throws the front door open, hastily making their way to his car. It’s colder now and the flurries have become proper snowflakes. She looks at him like he’s a madman as they get in but he ignores it too concerned with making his escape.

Jonathan turns the key before he’s even sure she’s got her seatbelt on. Then, he turns up the heater and the radio before peeling out of the driveway. As they pass by the entrance to the lab, he takes her hand again, more to ground himself than comfort her. This isn’t how he pictured their evening going, he’s supposed to be comforting her, supporting her. Instead he’s taking too much and giving nothing back again. When they reach Lover’s Lake, he parks, lets go of her hand and leans his forehead on the steering wheel.

“Jeez take a girl to dinner first” Nancy laughs nervously, but he doesn’t look up.

With every passing second, his guilt grows; he’s a shitty boyfriend, a shitty son, probably a shitty brother too if he’s being honest with himself. The worst part is the smallest part of him, the selfish part, hopes Lonnie called after they left. Just so mom can deal with him. Banish him away, protect him and Will from whatever bullshit he wants this time.

“Do you…” Nancy starts, breaking the silence “Do you have a problem with me being around your mom? Does she not-”

“What?” he exclaims, suddenly looking up and startling her.

“It’s just you rushed us out of there” she explains, not looking him in the eye, “And if you just wanted to be alone that’s fine” she claims, not entirely convincingly, “But I guess I’m just… confused” she finishes her rant, worming her lip.

God, he really is a shitty boyfriend.

“That’s not… It’s… look you have nothing to worry about ok?” Jonathan promises, trying his best to sound reassuring.

“Then what is bothering you?” she questions softly, her brows wrinkled together.

“Nothing” he lies, determined not to let Lonnie cut into their relationship any more than he already has.

“Jonathan, just tell me” she pleads, distress written all over her lovely face.

But he can’t, as much as he knows it’s going to disappoint her. His problem with Lonnie is his to face, he won’t drag her into it. Nancy opens her mouth to say something but the sound of sirens cut her off before she can. Instantly, he straightens up, Nancy moves in her seat, looking straight ahead.

There’s a knock on the glass and Jonathan rolls his window down revealing Hopper. He shines a flashlight into the car, looks between the two of them and Jonathan watches the gears turning in his head. An amused grin forms on the Chief's face and Jonathan’s sure his mom is going to hear about this later.

“Jonathan, what are you two doing out here?” Hopper asks, a knowing glint in his eye.

“Going for a drive” he grumbles, through gritted teeth, glaring at him.

“Yea well, you might wanna get home before the roads close” Hopper advises, as the wind blows.

“What?”

“Snow's really coming down and Ernie’s got the night off for his kid's recital.” He explains, rolling his eyes.

Jonathan looks at Nancy but she doesn’t look back. She ignores him entirely, rubbing her hands in front of the vent, clearly irritated. More at him than Hopper if he has to guess.

“What you didn't notice?” Hopper jokes, with a laugh that honestly makes Jonathan uncomfortable. He’s not stupid he knows what Hopper is implying.

“No”

“Get home. Before your mom calls the station” He bellows, stomping off as Jonathan rolls the window up.

The drive to the Wheelers is practically silent apart from the sounds of the windshield wipers. He brainstorms what to say the whole way. A long-winded, complicated ramble on the tip of his tongue as the drive down Cornwallis. By the time they hit Maple it's as simple as ‘it's my dad’. But he still can't bring himself to do it, convinced that he's brought too much baggage into their relationship already. Instead, he stalls the car at the curb, looks straight ahead and waits.

And Waits.

And Waits.

“Do you wanna come in?... My mom's making chicken parmesan” Nancy offers, tugging on his jacket to get his attention.

“I need to get Will home” he lies, and she sighs deep. He hates to disappoint her but he really doesn’t deserve to bask in her glow right now.

“Well call me after dinner ok?” Nancy requests, leaning over and kissing his cheek with her warm lips.

“Yea, yea of course” he lies again, watching her leave out of the corner of his eye.

He doesn't call her after dinner. He doesn't do much of anything except stare at his ceiling berating himself for making Nancy worry about his stupid problems. And wondering if he really loves her if he can’t even tell her the truth.

The next day, his curiosity gets the better of him and he makes a pilgrimage to the library. He scans the stacks until he finds what he’s looking for. He pulls the yearbook from the shelf, sits down in the aisle and tries to ignore the mildewy smell when he cracks it open.

Jonathan flips through the dusty pages until he lands on the spread for the drama department and there mom is, front and center, starry-eyed in the motion on stage. He’s not sure he’s ever seen her so young. So alive. Her passion radiates off the worn down paper.

Joyce Maldonado, class of 1959, directs Oklahoma

Is this what he has to look forward to? Years from now, will his own son skim through photos for some undeniable proof that he used to have a shine before the realities of life wore it down?

“There you are” Nancy greets, he turns his head and sure enough she’s standing at the end of the aisle, his yellow sweater practically swallowing her hole.

“Here I am” Jonathan responds, apprehensively. Surely, she won’t dump him while wearing his clothes. That’s just cruel.

“You've been avoiding me” she accuses, more hurt than mad.

“No I just… need to focus on my exams that's all” he claims because what’s another lie at this point.

“I can help you” she offers, kind as ever.

“No” he asserts.

She frowns and then crouches down to sit next to him. She's abnormally quiet and for a minute the rest of the library falls away as he listens to her breathing. The syncopation is strangely calming. Slowly, she leans on his shoulder and without really thinking he kisses the top of her head.

She points out her own mother, rolls her eyes, and makes a half laughing sound. Jonathan wonders if she knows about the peace corps, if Karen actually talks about the past with her children. Nancy doesn't look up from the page, boring into it as if something about it haunts her too.

“Barb’s funeral is on Saturday” she whispers like it'll kill her a second time.

Jonathan takes her hand, if only to let her know he's listening.

“My parents are going but Mike… Mike said he could hang out with Will for a couple hours so you’d be free and-”

“I'll be there” he promises, it's the least he can do after yesterday's fuck up. Despite everything, he still wants to be someone she can depend on. If Nancy will still have him, he still wants to be a good boyfriend.

“Thank you” she says softly.

He nods, unsure what to say. He thrums at a worn down spot in his jeans, debating confessing to asking Miss Kelly for information about Emerson. But he doesn't want to promise anything he can't really give. As much as he wants to.

“I signed us up for SAT prep in the spring” she announces, before he takes the chance.

“Ok”

“I don't care where you go for college but I am not letting you join the army” Nancy swears, wrinkling her nose at the thought.

“Letting me?” he huffs, raising a brow.

“That's what I said” she reaffirms, placing her hand over his own.

“Ok” he agrees, doubtful.

“Ok” she repeats, confidently.

The day of Barbara Holland's funeral, Jonathan wakes up late after having dozed off around four am. Quickly, he twists out of bed and riffles through his closet for his raggedy suit jacket and thin dress pants. With hesitation, he pulls his boots down from the shelf, reminding himself that mud can't hurt him.

He showers so fast that the water doesn't even have time to heat up, then he uses his last dull razor to carefully shave. By the time he finishes getting dressed, Mike is already in the living room, chit chatting with Will over cereal.

“You're gonna be late” he taunts, mouthful of knockoff Captain Crunch.

Jonathan ignores him, fastening his belt and grabbing his wallet from the coffee table.

“When are you going to be home?” Will asks, cautiously like Mom will hear him from Melvalds

“Uh there's a service and then lunch so two maybe three it depends on how long Nancy needs me” Jonathan answers.

Mike rolls his eyes and Will laughs.

“There's uh leftovers in the fridge if you get hungry and-”

“Call Mom if I need anything I know” Will assures.

“Right well, I'll see you later” he bids, grabbing his coat on the way out.

“Later” they chorus just as he turns the door handle.

The day, while crisp, is almost too clear and bright for December. He takes the long way down Denfield and the sunlight almost makes the dilapidated Creel House look inviting. It’s eerie. He swallows hard convincing himself he’s too old to believe in haunted houses as he passes the turn off for Hopper’s cabin.

The Wheelers’ station wagon is already in the church parking lot by the time he gets there and Nancy is waiting at the edge of the graveyard. Quickly, he parks his car, accidentally over the line but he doesn’t bother with correcting it.

“Hey, sorry my-”

Nancy cuts him off by practically collapsing into him, her arms wrap around her neck, and she nearly lifts off the ground. She leans all her weight into him and Jonathan holds her tighter, as if she’ll float away without his supportive hand on the small of her back.

He's mindful not to let go until she releases him, coming back down to earth and pulling away. She tenderly pats his arm and straightens his collar before taking his hand and guiding him to the gravesite.

Attendance is scant, a brunette couple that must be the Hollands stand near the Wheelers but other than that there’s some teachers, a quartet of cousins, and Steve Harrington of all people. Nancy stops them in front of her parents and Ted watches him like a hawk as Pastor Charles uses a sermon that sounds a little too similar to the one used at Will’s funeral last fall.

At the wake, he watches Nancy push baked ziti around her plate and Steve nurses a can of coke across from him. Neither of them speak or even look at each other, and he wonders if Nancy even knew he was coming. When lunch ends, she quietly tugs on his jacket and asks if he’ll come over and he nods because the idea of her alone in her bedroom breaks his heart.

Nancy gives one last hug to Mrs. Holland as they leave and Jonathan politely shakes Mr. Holland’s hand. Then they descend back down to his car with Steve trailing behind them. He must want something, but Jonathan’s not sure why he’d pick today of all days.

All at once, the world moves in slow motion as Nancy slips on dead leaves toppling them over. Instinctively, he twists to try and take most of the fall but when the dust settles they’re both on the ground in a daze. Jonathan sits up and Nancy takes a shaky breath.

“Oh jeez! You alright Nance” Steve asks, helping her up.

“Thanks, I knew I shouldn't have... oh honey are you ok?” She questions gently, as if noticing for the time that he went down with her.

“Fine” he nods, ignoring the pain in his side where her elbow jabbed him.

Steve extends his arm and Jonathan pulls himself up. No sooner is he on his feet, then Nancy’s delicately brushing the dirt off his coat.

“Thanks man” he acknowledges with a small smile.

“No problem” Steve replies, awkwardly as Nancy plucks a leaf out of his hair.

“Hey, don’t worry about me” Jonathan whispers, pulling her hand away, after noticing the hole in her tights and scrapes on her knees.

“Right uh I'm gonna go um clean up, are you sure you're alright?” she asks, and it takes everything in him not to kiss her wrinkled brow.

“Yea, yea fine” he reassures, she nods, letting go of his hand and walking back towards the church hall.

“She seems happier” Steve says out of nowhere once Nancy is out of earshot.

Jonathan blinks, slowly realizing that Steve is in fact talking to him.

“I mean not today but in general, you know when I see the two of you around, all in love, she seems happier” Steve rambles filling the uncomfortable silence.

“Thanks” he responds, because what the hell is he supposed to say to that.

Steve Harrington thinks they’re in love. He’s not even sure when Steve would’ve been around to notice them. Then again, the ground could probably open up and he wouldn’t notice if Nancy were smiling at him.

“She is right?” Steve questions, possibly doubting his observations.

“Yes, uh yea I think so”

“You would know if she wasn't trust me” he grimaces, but it sounds like he’s trying to play it off like a joke.

Jonathan huffs out a laugh out of obligation. Steve starts whistling birdcalls to fill the silence as they wait. Jonathan clenches his jaw, debating whether or not to tell Steve to knock it off but a cardinal flies overhead distracting them both. Finally, Nancy returns to release him from this bizzaro interaction.

“Better?” he asks, taking her hand.

“Yea” she answers, trying to figure out why Steve hasn’t left.

When they reach his car, Steve lingers like he still has something left to say. It occurs to him that as strange as it sounds, he might be lonely.

“Well see ya man… Nance” Steve stalls, then shakes his head thinking better of it.

“Bye” she whispers, raising her hand to wave him away.

Steve jogs off towards his car, looking back once and that’s all it takes for Jonathan’s suspicions to be confirmed in his mind. Maybe next semester, the three of them can try to have lunch together or something.

“What was that about?” Nancy asks, as she buckles her seatbelt.

“I dunno,” he answers, turning the car over.

An hour and a tense tea time later, he’s trying his best not to watch as Nancy peels off her damaged tights. He distracts himself by unlacing his boots, fighting the desire not to glance up when she sighs.

“Jonathan” she calls, as he peels off his shoes.

“Mhmm”

“Can you unzip me?”

Jonathan quickly looks up and she's got both hands behind her back, struggling to reach. He crosses the room meeting her by the desk, swallows hard and gently shimmies the zipper down her back. He softly kisses her exposed shoulder and the gesture makes him feel older in a way that doesn't scare him for once.

Nancy gives his arm a squeeze as she passes by heading to her closet. He takes off his suit jacket and drapes it on the back of her chair. She swaps her dress for his sweater from that night in the woods and a pair of sweatpants. Then Nancy curls into her bed, before she has to even ask Jonathan follows her, climbing into bed and gently wrapping his arms around waist. And here in the quiet intimacy of this moment she finally cries.

“It was one stupid fight you know?” she sniffles, trying to wipe her tears. “I thought she’d just pick me up for school in the morning and we’d make up like we always did” she continues, her voice cracking.

Jonathan can't think of anything to say that will make any of this okay. So he pulls Nancy in closer and her body shudders with her sobs.

“It’s ok, I’ve got you” he soothes.

“I spent my whole life with her. I don't know how I’m supposed to spend the rest of it without her” Nancy admits, through heaving breaths, her voice cracking.

His chest tightens, a chill running down his spine as the opening bars of Atmosphere play in his mind.

“We were supposed to graduate and move to the city and go backpacking through Europe together and now we can’t and it’s all-”

“I’ll go with you” he offers, desperate to ease her sadness.

“What?” she responds, twisting onto her back, looking at him with misty, confused eyes.

“We can go backpacking through Europe” he proposes, surer this time, intent on fulfilling his promise no matter how impossibly far away Europe seems from her bedroom in Hawkins.

“Jonathan”

“I’m serious” he swears, “We’ll sleep on park benches... and eat croissants …see Big Ben or-or a castle or something” he declares, making it up as he goes.

“The Basilica in Barcelona” she murmurs, gently, almost affectionately tugging at his shirt and gazing at him tenderly.

“Yea sure... I’ve always wanted to go to Paris” he confesses, deadly quiet, like expressing what he wants will guarantee he doesn’t get it.

“Paris?” she wonders aloud, and he can’t help but affectionately kiss her forehead.

“It’s kinda where they invented photography” he quietly explains.

“Tell me about it” she requests, tucking herself under his chin.

So Jonathan tells her everything he knows about camera obscura, Nicéphore Niépce and Daguerreotypes until her breathing slows to a crawl. He knows in his bones that he needs to get up and go home. But his eyes feel so heavy, the tension in his neck has melted against the pillow and the warmth of Nancy’s bedroom and her embrace is so inviting that he can’t help but linger in it…

When he wakes up, the room is pitch black and panic instantly sets in. Without thinking twice, he jostles around twisting his wrist to check his watch. Shit. Shit. Shit. With a jump, he gets out of stumbling towards the bench to throw on his shoes.

“Jonathan?” Nancy whimpers, groggily.

“Go back to sleep” he urges, tugging on his boots.

“What are you doing?” she questions, clicking on the lamp on her nightstand.

“I have to go” Jonathan stammers, as his fingers catch on the laces.

“Now?” Nancy objects, slowly getting out of bed.

“Yes” he hisses, pulling on his jacket.

“It's the middle of the night!” she argues, reaching for his arm.

“I know!” he grumbles, pulling away from her touch and heading back towards the window.

But she catches him just as reaches the bench. He really doesn't have time for this, for all he knows Hopper is out looking for him. He can't believe he was this stupid.

“Jonathan can you please just stay for once?” Nancy questions, with an exasperated sigh.

Jonathan stops in his tracks, curtains half-drawn, feeling like the rug has been pulled out from under him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he snaps, turning on his heels.

“You know what I mean” She asserts, harshly. Dropping his arm and wrapping her arms around herself.

“No, I don’t think I do” he seethes, his heartbeat pounding.

“You never stay” Nancy claims, and he rolls his eyes. “And I know you want to. But you don’t and you hesitate and you clearly don’t trust me” she accuses.

“I trust you” he retorts, feeling lightheaded.

“Yea to save you from a Demogorgon not with anything real” she hurls back, her voice breaking.

“What?”

“You-you just shut down” she accuses, it’s like he’s the tin can and she’s the gun.

“Shutdown?” Jonathan repeats, glaring at her with tired eyes.

“You never tell me the full truth” Nancy criticizes, and he has to wonder how long she’s been keeping this to herself.

“I do” he defends, instead of calling her a hypocrite.

“Bullshit, you’re lying right now and you think I don’t know.” Nancy scolds with hardened eyes.

“I've answered every stupid question you've asked me” he reminds, like all his jeopardy responses count for something.

“Yea well I wouldn't have to ask you stupid questions if you just let me in” she rages, throwing up her hands.

They sound like his parents. Is this really what all relationships boil down to? Arguing in the dead of night?

“I can’t do this …they need me” Jonathan insists, sternly.

“I need you too” Nancy pleads, tears running down her face.

“You think I don’t know that? But I can’t-”

“Can’t or won’t” she challenges, sniffling.

“If you're asking me to choose-”

“I'm asking you to include me! To-to notice me” Nancy urges, her voice cracking, “I mean sometimes it feels like you don't want to be with me at all. You promised me that we were going to be together no matter what. That this is what you wanted but you act like a scared child” she accuses, barely able to get the words out.

“I am not scared” he claims through gritted teeth.

“Then why won’t you just let me all the way in?” Nancy demands.

“Because you’ll leave” Jonathan yells, his limited control snapping.

“Says the guy with one foot out the door!” Nancy counters, in a shout.

Somewhere in the distance he hears the click of a light and the thud of feet on the floor. He has a sinking suspicion that any minute now either Mr. or Mrs. Wheeler is going to tell him to get the hell out, no matter how much Nancy wants him to stay.

“I should go your parents-”

“Do not blame this on my parents, you’re leaving because that’s what you do the great Byers disappearing act” Nancy taunts, accusatory.

Her bloodshot eyes are filled with utter disdain, if she ever was in love with him she's not now that's clear. Her words reverberate in his mind, bouncing around and finding a home next to the memory of his mom kicking Lonnie out. He's let Nancy down the same way his father did to mom, over and over and over. He's Lonnie Byers son, there's no escaping that.

The silence is deafening, he's sure they're over, before they even really started. He takes a shaking breath convincing himself it's better this way. He can't give her one night, let alone Paris. Somehow it's right that they end here in her room where he never really belonged in the first place. What the hell was he even thinking? Nancy Wheeler in love with him, Jonathan Byers? What a complete joke.

“Jonathan, I didn’t mean…”

“I think we both know what you meant Nancy” he cuts her off, burning.

“Jonathan wait”

Except he doesn't, he slides out the window into the cold night. Carefully crawling down the roof. By the time he hits the curb, he can hear the front door unlocking. He doesn't turn back, too angry and too disappointed to hear her out.

Jonathan can barely breathe as he turns the engine over. The further he drives away, the more his heart sinks. But Dad's voice in his head keeps him from crying. By the time he gets home he's practically shaking.

The house is completely dark, briefly he entertains the idea that he's overreacted. That maybe Mom and Will don't need him as much as he thinks. Maybe he's the one refusing to let go. Maybe Nancy's right and he does hesitate or maybe Miss Kelly's is right and he's afraid of change.

He quietly sneaks in, feeling misunderstood, worn down, and just plain stuck. Maybe it's just too late for him.

“Where the hell have you been?” Mom hisses, starling him.

“Jesus mom” he exclaims, trying to bring his heartrate back down.

“It’s after midnight Jonathan, where were you?” she grills once she meets him in the hallway.

“I…” he stalls, Nancy's wet angry eyes flash in mind and he feels weak.

“And do not say working because I already called the Hawk and they said you don’t work there anymore?” she continues, crossing her arms and scowling up at him.

He's taken aback, she can't possibly be this out of touch. Can she?

“What on earth could have possibly been so important, Jonathan?” She fumes, and he attempts to steady himself.

“I-I'm sorry. I was with Nancy” he takes a deep shaky breath trying to erase her eyes from his mind “And I-I lost track of time it won’t-” he stammers out.

“Nancy? You went out with Nancy? And you didn't even leave a note?” she snaps before he can finish.

“I didn't think-”

“What? That I'd care about where you were? I mean I almost called Hopper.” She shrieks hysterically. Guilt weaves through his veins, he can’t believe he made her worry about him.

“I'm-”

“And you left Will alone. What if something happened to him? Did you think about that?” she harps furiously.

Jonathan nearly stumbles, her words making him weak in the knees. Does she really think he doesn’t think about the choice he made everyday? Like he doesn’t know that everything that happened to Will, that happened to this family is all his fault. He was supposed to look out for his brother. To protect him. And he failed… twice.

“I need you to be more responsible.” she condemns.

His guilt morphs into a white hot anger. His jaw clenches, his nerves steel and he understands all of Miss Kelly’s looks during their talks. He wants to scream at her that he’s spent his entire life being responsible. Ask her what exactly he has to show for it. No friends, the town’s judgement, and a half-broken car?

Is this really what he sacrificed his relationship with Nancy for? To be told that he's irresponsible?

He swallows hard, trying to push down the anger, send it back from where it came before it gets him in even more trouble. But it's no use, a lifetime of bottled up resentment has uncorked.

“You left me alone with him when I was his age” he snarls, low and clear in a way that makes him almost uncomfortable.

“That was different” she argues.

“Yea that's for sure” he snarks, thinking of everything he already knew at Will's age: How to patch a hole in the wall, what soap to use for tough stains, which houses paid extra if raked leaves or shoveled snow, where to get hit so the bruises wouldn't show, how to dodge questions, when to make himself smaller, less noticeable.

“Excuse me?” she retaliates, eyes wide.

He remembers everything he missed out on: Playing drums, running cross country, photography contests at the fair, hanging out in basements, spending nights at the arcade and living life.

He's not going to let that happen to Will.

“You're so-you're so paranoid you've practically got him living in a bubble!” he accuses, his whole body shaking.

“I do not”

“Yes you do! You're isolating him from his friends and only…”

“I am keeping him safe” she claims, rising to her full height

“Keeping him hostage here is more like it” he retorts, even though he knows he should stop. That she's already angry enough.

“He is safe here” she contends, condescendingly.

“Right ok yea. God forbid anyone go out and live their lives.” he yells, projecting his own frustrations.

Mom's face contorts like she doesn't even know who he is anymore.

“Live your life, is that what this is? You can't just shirk work, or…or your responsibilities for some latent teenage rebellion Jonathan” She scolds like she’s caught him drinking or smoking or doing something fucking fun for once.

He knows it’s been rough, that she’s grieving, that she’s depressed but who the hell does she think has been doing everything around here?

“Teenage-Teenage rebellion?” he stammers in disbelief, “Seriously? Is that what you think?”

“What am I supposed to think I mean I hardly know what's going on with you anymore and you're hiding things from me and then finding things in your room-”

“You went into my room?!” he rages, for all their faults she's always let him have his privacy.

“Yes and I'm glad I did.” she announces smugly.

“What?”

“What are you doing with a bottle of vodka?” Mom shouts ferociously.

Jonathan's heart plummets, he knows he left that under the bed. So she didn't just go into his room, she searched his room. She was looking for a reason to justify her distrust and she found one.

“That's what this is about?” he asks skeptically, somehow holding onto a sliver of hope that there's another explanation. That he’s done something else wrong, something more worthy of this.

“It depends, were you out drinking tonight?” she grills, and he's reminded of every time she asked Lonnie the same thing.

Somewhere between the shock, betrayal, and heartache he realizes no matter what he says she won't believe him.

“Let me see if I've got this right, you think I'm irresponsible. And-and rebelling. But you have no idea where I was or where I am.. even though I've been telling you. You just-you just aren't listening to me and-and all of that makes it ok to go into my room without asking. I mean why would… why would you do that?!?” he asks, his voice cracking.

“Because I'm your mother!” she spits out like fire, burning him.

“Yea, right ok” he shudders, hot tears spilling over.

Jonathan can't stop crying. And as bad as it is, a small part of him still wants to collapse into her. To be soothed like a child even though he knows he's too old for that kind of comfort.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Will cautiously peering out of his room. Shame dries his tears almost instantly and he wonders how much he heard.

“What's going on?” Will questions softly, anxiously looking between them.

Mom doesn't say anything, just stands there almost dumbstruck.

“Hey buddy, I'm sorry you should-you should go back to bed” Jonathan recommends, hoarsely.

“Is everything ok?” Will asks, concerned.

“Yea it's fine” Jonathan lies.

“Mom?”

“Go back to sleep, baby.” she coos, as if coming back down to earth.

“Oh…ok” he responds, uncertain.

Will glances at them once more, undoubtedly brainstorming a way to solve their problems. Then he sneaks back into his room shutting the door tight. Jonathan deflates with a shaky breath, shrinking back into his sadness. Mom crosses her arms, pinches her lips and waits. But whatever fight he had in him has dissipated so he crosses the hallway towards his bedroom, ready to put on an album and drown the world out.

“You're grounded" she snarls, just as his hand touches the doorknob.

“For how long?” he questions, as if it even matters.

“I don't know you just are.” she concludes.

“Fine.” he hisses, pushing his door open.

He pauses in the doorframe replaying their fight, his day, his last month, like a film reel and the smoldering embers of his anger ignite again.

“By the way, I had to quit work a month ago to take care of both of you, sorry for being so irresponsible.” he informs, slamming the door in her face.

Jonathan’s heart pounds in his ears. Maybe Mr. Wheeler is right, maybe he’s only good enough for the small confines of Hawkins. Even then… he’s a screw up. Him, his father, his whole family. In twenty years from now is he going to be working at Ralph’s auto reminiscing on his glory days? Sitting across from Nancy’s son telling him to enjoy his youth with a forlorn expression? Will he be alone and miserable with his only solace to be found at the bottom of a bottle?

The thought is almost too much to bear and he steadies himself on the edge of the dresser. He can’t do this… this can’t be his fate. He exhales, a long shaky sigh, then breathes in again like that’s enough to hold back his tears. The light from the night sky beams through his makeshift curtains and suddenly his body seems to move on autopilot.

Jonathan cautiously lifts up the window, looks over his shoulder like mom has already noticed he’s gone. When he realizes she hasn’t he carefully slips into the dark night. It’s a quick half-run to his car, the frigid air trying to persuade him to go back inside. To settle for this life. He takes a risk turning the engine over instead of pushing the car out of the driveway but he figures if she hears he can leave quick enough. He takes one last look at the sad house he no longer inhabits, peels out onto Mirkwood and does his best to ignore the pain in chest when his headlights illuminate Chester’s grave.

He zooms past the desolate lab, flipping it off for good measure. A chill runs down his spine as the lab gives way to the dead woods, an eerie fog looming within them. He swallows down the pain in his throat when he passes the turn off for Sattler’s Quarry. These places can’t hurt him anymore, he’s getting out of here while he still can.

He breezes by the Fair Mart and he’s more and more convinced he can cut clear. He’ll drive up to Chicago, find a cheap motel. He can live in his car for a while, get a job at a record store, take his G.E.D. Leave it all behind.

Until that damn sign stops him in his tracks. Leaving Hawkins - Come Again Soon. When would he come back? Would he come back? Faintly, he hears a train whistle blow all at once he’s ten years old again, plotting his great escape in the woods.

He leans his head back on the rest, it occurs to him how disappointed Miss Kelly would be. And for some reason he cares about that. What would Will think? When he can’t find him making breakfast in a couple hours? It’s sunday, he’s supposed to make french toast. He always does. Out of habit, he glances towards the passenger seat. He huffs a laugh when he thinks about how odd that instinct would've been two months ago.

Then, he cries. Tears warm his face as they roll down. If he really, truly, honestly believed he could leave he would’ve done it a long time ago. Before Nancy crept her way into his heart. They’re bound together now, connected by something deeper than their shared trauma.

“It was one stupid fight” she echoes in his mind. He can't leave it like this. He loves her, he's sure of it and she deserves to know.

Jonathan wipes his tears, straightens up and takes the wheel. He makes a U-turn, almost too quickly, and drives through Hawkins even faster. Past the theater alley where she saw him at his worst, past the radio shack where Bob mistook her for his girlfriend, past the hunting store where the whole world was just them. He races down Cherry until it turns into Maple and intersects with Dearborn.

He parks the car and runs the rest of the way, his too tight boots slipping on the pavement. The air burns through his lungs, but it only pushes him forward. His second-hand wool coat only adds to the fire, he could melt through the dirty piles of snow narrowing the street. If Lucas were to look out his window right now he’s sure he’d think he was crazy. Maybe he has lost it, maybe all of this is moot, but he has to try. No, he wants to try.

When he gets to the end of the drive, he takes a minute to catch his breath. He must be the luckiest boy in the world, because Nancy Wheeler’s light is still on. With reckless abandon he hops onto the AC unit, pulls himself up onto the roof underneath her window. With the kind of courage that only comes with being young, dumb and in love he raps on the window. Minutes go by like eternity and he knocks again, more desperate than brave this time.

There’s rusting from beyond the curtain and his heart leaps. Jonathan grips onto the ledge, convinced he’ll float away otherwise. Above him, Nancy slowly opens the curtains, like Juliet stepping out onto her balcony.

Her eyes laser focus on him, but she hesitates, chewing her lip the way he's so fond of. Jonathan meets her eyes, a fresh redness in them, she’s been crying too. Maybe it really is all over, before they even really started. Just when he’s about to lose all hope, she slides the window up and pulls him into her room.

He swings his body onto the bench, shifting around to try and sit. Briefly, she looms over him, arms on either side of him as she slams the window shut without a care in the world who might hear. Then she backs away until she reaches the edge of her bed and sits. He rubs his palms on his dress pants, trying not to think of the distance she's built between them. When he glances back up at her, she gives him a look he understands to mean ‘Well’?

“I love you” Jonathan rapidly proclaims, and her eyes go as wide as the moon.

“I'm in love with you” he continues, like an overflowing champagne bottle, “I-I have been for weeks…months. Maybe since I pulled you out of that tree.” He pauses, to catch his breath. Nancy's lips part but he has to get the rest of this out.

“And I notice! I notice everything you do”

“Like what?” she challenges, barely above a whisper.

“Like how your favorite subject is English because you like to read and stare at the back of my head when you think I’m not looking. And-And your favorite movie is His Girl Friday but you tell people it’s Endless Love because it’s Tom Cruise’s first film. Your favorite artist is Blondie, but your favorite song right now is Time After Time. You like tomatoes because they’re versatile, pink is your favorite color but you tell people it’s purple because you-you want them to take you seriously! Even though you swear you don’t care what anyone thinks. You want to be a journalist, you’re a hell of a shot and I trust you more than anyone else.” he rambles like a madman, but she doesn't stop him.

“But it’s hard because I worry-I worry that … that if I let you in all the way and you see all those parts of me you’ll realize I’m not worth it” he continues, barely above a whisper.

“Worth what?” she asks, more gently than he deserves.

“Us, this, you” Jonathan admits, voice thin.

Nancy looks like she might cry again, and he really can’t have that. But his words get caught in his throat. Jonathan finally registers the wetness of his eyes and the steady stream of tears crawling down his face. He lowers his head to hide the unavoidable. He tries to take a deep breath but it comes out as a sniffle. This is pathetic, he’s pathetic.

“Sorry” he mumbles out, too ashamed to look at her.

He can hear her scoot off the bed. No doubt coming to push him out the window. Her pink gingham nightgown invades his blurred vision. With a gentleness he doesn't deserve, she cups his face in her hands and tilts his head up.

Their eyes meet and it's like Nancy can see right through him. Down to the depths of his soul. He's been naked in front of her but he's never felt this exposed.

But there's a strange synchronicity to whatever this is. Because as clear as she can see him, he can see her like a mirror. Their entire lives are present in this gaze. Running in a close parallel until crashing together last fall.

They're entangled now. Well beyond the present are clear visions of their future. Arm in arm on a snowy campus, laughing over dinner at a worn down kitchen table, seeing their daughter off to the first day of school…Jonathan swallows hard, too frightened by the future to let himself hope for it.

“Jonathan I love you, you know that. I think you’ve known for a while. And letting me in isn’t going to change that…But shutting me out-”

“I know, I’m sorry I-I don’t.. I don’t want to do that anymore” he promises.

“Then don’t” she advises, sternly.

“Ok” Jonathan nods, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Ok” Nancy repeats, tenderly rubbing his cheekbones with her thumb before gliding her hands down and lacing them together around his neck.

For a moment, she just stands there, crystal blue eyes examining his own. Searching, no, memorizing the lines of his face and he wonders what in the world she sees that warrants the adoration in her eyes. Before he can ask, she slides into his lap and he holds his breath as she settles. Carefully, as if she’ll disappear otherwise, he wraps his arms around the small of her back. Then, she leans her forehead against his, closes her eyes and breathes so deep that he can feel her body move.

“I love you Jonathan Byers” Nancy entrusts, with fierce conviction like she’s telling him she wants to kill a monster.

“I love you Nancy Wheeler” Jonathan confides, steady and sure like he’s convincing her the world won’t end.

Then, she kisses him, her lips are soft, secure, safe. The rest of his life might be falling apart but here in the embrace of his first love he’s protected from all of that, at least for a little while.

Afterwards, when they’re lying in her bed and she’s leaving marks along his neck while murmuring mine against his skin, reality starts to settle back in. Jonathan fidgets, or squirms and Nancy pulls away frowning. He opens his mouth to try and explain, but she settles back down on his chest before he can. He wraps his fingers in her curls, and she entwines her left hand with his right.

“What made you come back?” Nancy questions, her voice muffled against him

“I remembered that thing you said about you and Barb and…” Jonathan stalls, shivering at the memory of mom’s fury.

“And?” she elongates, briefly letting go to pull up the covers.

“Uh I got in a fight with my mom an-”

“What?” she gasps, jolting up and looking at him like he’s confessed to murder.

“Yea” he affirms, “I’m grounded” he elaborates, watching as she slips out of bed.

“You know the first rule of being grounded is you can’t leave” Nancy informs, digging through her dresser.

“No, I-I’ve never been grounded before” Jonathan stammers, his eyes drifting towards her as she changes.

“So you wanted to talk?” she questions as she pulls on his green shirt. He’s going to have to do inventory of what she's stolen from him soon.

“No I was running away obviously” he jokes, as she tosses his yellow sweater at him. That’s one thing back, at least.

“Without me?” Nancy pouts, crawling back into bed and nestling into his side.

“Yea, well I didn't get very far did I?” he teases, kissing the top of her head.

Nancy settles, he taps his fingers at her side not feeling the least bit tired. But, she makes a sound somewhere between a hum and a yawn and he breathes shaky.

“That thing you said earlier about me disappearing-”

“I didn't mean that” Nancy apologizes in a whisper, tilting her head up to look him in the eye.

“I know but… I think it's just hardwired in” he frets, his voice cracking.

“What do you mean?” she asks gently.

“My dad… Lonnie… he used to disappear all the time for weeks, months…and I prayed every night he wouldn't come back” he recalls, bitterly. Tears pricking his eyes. “But he always did…so I figured that I'd have to leave first”

“What about your mom and Will?” she questions, sitting up to wipe his tears.

“I don’t guess I was more selfish back then” he responds, sniffling.

“I don't believe that” Nancy soothes.

“No it's true” he claims, “They had each other you know? They still do.”

“What changed?” she wonders, squeezing his hand in her own.

“He tried to go after Will once when he was…. wasted and the Pacers lost and I realized that the only thing standing in his way was me.” Jonathan reveals, trembling. Nancy pulls tissues from her nightstand, and tenderly dabs at his eyes.

“He hit you?” Nancy questions softly.

He takes a deep breath and nods.

“And you never told anyone?” she asks like she already knows the answer.

“What was I supposed to say?” he questions back, she bites her lip and glances down and then meets his eyes again, slowly realizing that no one would’ve believed him.

“What about your mom?”

“I think she suspected but she didn't really know until …”

“Until?” Nancy coaxes.

“He shoved me on my thirteenth birthday and I fell off the porch and broke my wrist. Mostly I just remember her tearing him a new one at the hospital and that was it…” Jonathan recounts, letting the secret go.

Nancy anchors her eyes to his, focused on him with the same look as when they got that thing out of his brother. Sadness, empathy, hurt. She shudders a breath and he panics that he’s shared too much.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I can leave” Jonathan frets, sitting up.

“No no no” she insists, pushing him back down “You aren't going anywhere”

His head hits her pillow and she seems to loom over him.

“And no one is hurting you again. Not while I'm around” she assures, her blue eyes steely.

“Aren't boyfriends supposed to be the protective ones?” he huffs.

“Well, then we'll just have to look out for each other” Nancy resolves, not one to be deterred.

“Always” Jonathan promises as she leans down for a kiss.

Jonathan spends the next few hours telling her almost everything he’s been too afraid to say. In hushed tones they discuss their fanciful childhood dreams, the time she had a disastrous first date with some guy from choir freshman year, the time he got lost in a Sears, how it felt holding Holly for the first time, how hard he cried when Will broke his finger. And they plot practical plans about what their future looks like. Which finals they need to study, actually study, for, how to get him on the paper for extra photography experience, when she’ll get her license over break, what internships to look for next summer.

When the first rays of dawn come through her window, Nancy reluctantly pushes him out of her bed and the only reason he really complies is because there’s no sense in her getting grounded too. Once he’s collected himself, they tiptoe, giggle and kiss all the way down the stairs until she has to force herself to push him out the front door into the cold.

By the time he gets home, he can hear the water running in the shower as he sneaks back into his room. He turns on Combat Rock if only to kill the silence. He paces around the room wearing a path into the carpet. When the water shuts off, he waits, half-convinced Mom's going to burst in any second now and yell at him again. But she doesn’t, a part of him is disappointed she didn't knock, but he's not exactly surprised. He wonders how long they can realistically get away with avoiding each other. A day, a week, the rest of the month? He doesn't exactly want to spend his holidays fighting with her. He peers out of his door just as she’s leaving, but he can’t think of anything to say to make her stay.

Jonathan spends most of the day cleaning: his room, his car, the bathroom, the kitchen, the living room. Nothing is spared from decluttering, tidying, washing, or scrubbing. His too small shirts find a home in Will’s closet, he reorganizes the pantry, and he chops enough wood to heat the house until New Years. It’s not until he nearly tosses Will’s history project, and he storms off in a huff that Jonathan stops long enough to sit with his nerves.

What even is going to happen when mom gets home? Her distrust is already out there, elephant in the room. He doesn’t know how to win it back. If he explained the vodka would that work? How does he even begin to explain that? That while Will was fighting for his life he and Nancy were… The phone rings and his heart drops. Not now, he really can’t do this now. He swallows hard, steeling his nerves and picks it up.

“Hello” he grumbles, thinking about asking Hopper about a restraining order.

“Hey, how's my favorite jailbird?” Nancy greets, and his cares melt away at the sound of her voice.

“Oh, it's you” Jonathan responds, softly.

“Who else would it be?” she jokes with a light laugh.

He sucks in a breath, he has to tell her. He promised as much.

“My dad he's been… calling” he confesses, nervously tapping the wall.

“For how long?” she questions, and it’s like he can hear her journalist instinct taking over.

“A couple weeks” he mutters, staring at the ceiling and wondering if he should dust the corners for cobwebs.

“Does anyone else know?” she asks.

“Uh Miss Kelly” he answers with an exhale, leaning against the wall and sliding down.

“But not your mom?” she continues, and a part of him wonders if she's taking notes.

“No, not my mom” he confirms quietly.

Nancy pauses her interrogation and he pictures her sitting on her bed, worming her lip, gears turning in her mind. It’s a nice thought, soothing, like he’s still there with her instead of waiting for mom’s next move.

“You're not going to tell her are you?” she realizes.

“Nancy's she's…” Jonathan sighs, sniffling.

“She's what?” she wheedles.

“She's so mad at me already the way she looked at me last night I don't think she trusts me anymore” He admits, ignoring the pain in his chest. Nancy pauses, processing his fears.

“How are you, really?” she entreats, tenderly.

“Ok, I dunno… I'm just...tired I guess”

“Am I adding to that?” Nancy worries, and his heart breaks at the idea of her thinking she’s a burden.

“No no that’s not it, being with you is kinda the only time I feel-”

“Normal?” she offers in a teasing tone.

“I was going to say like me but yea I guess” he huffs, remembering when she told him he was weirder than a bear trap.

“But everything else?” Nancy requests.

“It’s … I don’t know, it's just complicated.” he admits, sadness laced in his voice.

“I can do complicated” Nancy assures, tenderly.

“I’m…I’m tired of cleaning and getting the mail, and paying the bills, and having to know where Will is every minute of the day, and then there’s school. And I’m so tired of the stupid Hamburger Helper” he rants, like he’s Pandora releasing the evils out into the world. “I can’t-I can’t stand it and she bought my least favorite flavor and-and she knows that. She knows that…I’m sorry, this is a lot you didn’t-”

“Jonathan, stop apologizing. I asked, I'm worried about you.”

“Right sorry”

“Jonathan!”

“Sor-…anyways it just… it just feels like she doesn’t care at all anymore” he sniffles, his voice cracking.

He feels sick saying it, but he also knows that it rings true. Whatever concern mom has for him has been swept away by grief or just plain apathy.

“Oh Honey, I'm sure that's not true. Your mom loves you she's just-”

But he doesn’t hear what Nancy thinks mom is, because he drops the receiver when he hears Will greeting her. In a rush, he picks the phone back up.

“Hey sorry, I gotta go” He announces rapidly.

“Oh, ok, I love you” She bids, and his heart races.

“Love you too” he whispers, quickly hanging up the phone and picking himself up off the floor to greet mom.

Jonathan gets there just as mom’s door is shutting. When he asks Will what happened he just shrugs. He goes through the motions of making dinner. At first, he sends Will to fetch mom but when he comes back without her, he heads down the hallway himself. He stands at her door begging for at least half an hour until his anger reignites and he decides two can play this game.

The next few days pass in a blur of tests, papers and presentations. He and Mom’s cold war makes home practically unbearable. He almost feels bad for Will, but he can’t stop himself from blasting music, slamming doors, and generally avoiding her. He knows it’s unhealthy, but if she’s going to accuse him of being an irresponsible teenager he’s going to act like one.

“Are we still going to the tree lighting?” Nancy asks on Wednesday at lunch while Jonathan's plotting to make pork chops for dinner because he knows Mom hates them.

“Pretty sure I’m still grounded” he grumbles, brushing some crumbs off his shirt.

“But you can drive?” she questions, offering him a spritz cookie.

“Yea, well it’s unclear” he mutters, grabbing a chocolate dipped tree.

“Well…” she elongates, scooting closer “What if I talk to her? Explain things” she offers, tenderly pecking his shoulder.

“You don’t need to do that” he rejects, rubbing his hands on his jeans.

Nancy frowns, then reaches up to the back of his hair and runs her fingers through it. Jonathan closes his eyes and leans into her touch, trying to come up with some excuse to sneak into her bed on a school night.

“My mom’s picking me up today” she reminds gently, perching her chin on his arm.

“What? Why?”

“We're getting our nails done and I need to go to Melvald’s… and besides you’re grounded” she teases, as he leans his head on her shoulder.

“Nancy really, you don’t need to talk to-”

“Well, no. But I need pantyhose” she defends.

“Seriously?”

“Yes, mine ripped in case you forgot” Nancy replies, taking her hand out of his hair and he grouses in protest.

“I know but I mean do you really need them? Right now?” he argues, not entirely unconvinced she doesn't have something else up her sleeve.

“Yes” She answers, decisively. “Nana will get all weird about me not having them at the Christmas party and I’d rather avoid that”

“Right the Christmas party” Jonathan falters, his stomach tying in knots at the thought of Ted making snide remarks all night.

“You're coming right?” she asks sweetly, like he can withstand a rematch at the colosseum.

“I don't think your dad wants me there” he grumbles.

“Well, I want you there” she whispers, pulling him into a kiss.

The bell once again ruins his fun and he actually groans this time. Then Nancy laughs at him and his outburst almost seems worth it.

“Can’t we just lie about having some last minute yearbook assignment and we can make out while we wait to get them from AV club?” he suggests, sliding off the counter.

“We'll have all break together” she grins as he helps her down.

“Promise?” Jonathan requests, reluctant to let go of her hand.

“Yes, we can hide away in my room, really freak out my parents” Nancy whispers, tiptoes.

“Sounds nice” he murmurs against her mouth before kissing her again.

After school, Miss Kelly finds him in the parking lot, casually hands him an Emerson pamphlet and makes him promise to stop by on Friday. He spends the better part of an hour rereading the tuition prices and wondering if the full college experience can possibly be worth that much.

He reads over Dawn Mitchell's, Communication Studies, testimonial again and really tries to imagine himself finding friends in dorms and crowded lecture halls, attending parties with Nancy, and joining clubs.

But it morphs into his old New York fantasies, late nights at a crowded cafe, weekends at the met, reading on the subway. Except Nancy's managed to sneak her way into every scene. He sighs and swaps the pamphlet for his math practice test and a pencil.

A condition of their new and improved plans was him agreeing not to put the cart before the horse, not get so anxious over the future that he forgets about the here and now. But it’s hard not to spiral,especially when he knows how one bad choice can affect things. If he forgets probability formulas, then he fails his final, then he’s stuck in summer school, then he doesn’t have time for an internship and it’s goodbye college with or without Nancy.

He shaves away his mistakes against the steering wheel and accidentally hits the horn just as Mr. Wheeler’s car pulls into the line in front of him. He sinks in his seat like that will make him unnoticeable. Either Mr.Wheeler is tired or the universe is taking pity on him for once because he doesn’t chew Jonathan out over honking.The doors to Hawkins Middle fly open and he turns the car on as Will and Mike part with some elaborate goodbye ritual they’ve had since they were six.

Jonathan tries to cram his practice test in with the rest of his things but nothing fits back quite right. He’s trying to rearrange The Odyssey, The Brothers Karamazov, East of Eden and Another Country as Will opens the passenger door and sends his papers flying.

“Where’s Emerson?” Will asks, catching the brochure and handing it back to him.

“Uh Boston” he mutters, shoving the pamphlet into his art textbook.

“Oh”

Will buckles into his seat and takes Another Country and East of Eden off his hands while pestering him about having too many books. When he argues that he needs them for winter break Will rolls his eyes like he knows something Jonathan doesn’t. He ignores his brother’s antics, pulling out of the parking lot and driving them home.

“Mike and I are going to London” Will announces as they pass the arcade.

“What?”

“For College” he explains, turning the volume down.

“I don’t-”

“I know it’s gonna be hard and I’ll miss you and mom but it’ll be fun to see new things” he imparts, clearly. His head held high.

“Like what?” he questions, entertaining his ideas.

“The castles and stuff. Sometimes they have dorms in castles” Will informs, like he and Mike have genuinely thought about their college plans beyond the decision to go together.

“Well, what if it doesn’t work out?” Jonathan worries, he doesn’t want to crush Will’s dreams but a little realism wouldn’t hurt.

“Then I’ll come live in New York with you or Boston or wherever” Will shrugs simply.

“Right” Jonathan exhales, silently wishing he was just as sure.

“Jonathan?” Will calls as they pass over the train tracks.

“Yea buddy?”

“Are you really in love with Nancy?” he asks, equal parts curious and judgemental.

“Well I um I-”

“Ugh you are aren’t you? I can’t believe it.” Will denounces, dramatic as ever.

“Yea, but you're happy for me right?” Jonathan wonders aloud, because starting to worry that Will might actually have a problem with him dating Nancy.

“I mean at least you have somebody to hang out with” Will answers.

It stings, unintentionally in the way that his quips so often are. But Jonathan can’t deny that it does. Maybe over break the four of them can go bowling or something. Give Will a chance to see how great Nancy is.

“And I guess it's cool that you don't have to explain you know” He shrugs, trying to soothe the burn.

“I thought she wasn't cool” Jonathan recalls.

“She's not! In second grade she made us go knocking door to door with her save the whales petition” Will recounts loudly and he smiles at the memory of tiny Nancy Wheeler in her whale sweater.

“So she's passionate!” He protests.

“Jeez, Mike's right you’ve got it bad” he mocks, quickly leaving the car before Jonathan can defend himself.

He trails behind, carrying his mountain of books and trying not to trip up the steps of the porch. Will takes ages unlocking the door, trying Jonathan’s patience. He’s just about to hand Will his books and do it himself when he hears the latch click.

“Mom we’re home” Will greets, rushing in and pulling off his coat.

Jonathan hangs back, meticulously locking up to avoid mom. Then he takes off his own jacket and scarf adding them to his pile and slowly making his way inside. Mom has suddenly realized it’s almost Christmas and every decoration they own has thrown up in the living room.

“I was thinking we could even get a tree this weekend” Mom offers, tenderly ruffling Will’s hair.

“Will has the Snowball this weekend” Jonathan reminds harshly, the gesture setting off his jealousy again.

“Well, during the day” she argues, looking at him for the first time in days.

“You work during the day” he maintains, unsure why he won’t let up, why he won’t just let her get a stupid Christmas tree.

“Well Friday we could.” she tries, slightly raising her brows. Her face seems so open but he can’t read it for the life of him.

“Yea I guess” he shrugs, frustrated with his inability.

“Is there a different day? We could do Sunday or tomorrow or tonight even” she persists, not registering his discomfort.

“It's fine, I don't care, I'm grounded anyways.” he grumbles, trudging off to his room.

“Jonathan-”

He shuts the door harder than he means too, drops everything on his mattress, turns on Unknown Pleasures and sits on the edge of his bed. He flops over, lying on his back and staring at his boring ceiling again. Deep down he knows the decorations and the tree are her olive branch. She rarely actually says she’s sorry, usually apologies come in the form of favorite meals or reduced chores, occasionally if she really thinks she messed up she’ll buy him something small like film or mixtapes or in this case a Christmas tree.

Jonathan sighs, on the one hand if he apologizes he can probably go to the tree lighting with Nancy. Granted, he doesn’t give a shit about town events but her smiling face would be worth the trouble. He sits up, resigned to surrender the fight just as there’s a knock on the door.

“Can I come in?” Mom asks, her voice thin.

“What’s stopping you?” He snarks, not quite ready to forgive her for invading his privacy.

The knob turns and he watches her quickly enter and shut the door behind her. He almost wants to tell her it’s useless, that surely Will is already on his way to overhear what she has to say. Mom glances around at his dresser, his desk and his chair and it’s then that he notices how much older she looks. She quietly sits down but she doesn’t say anything. He catches both of their reflections in the mirror, noticing the same tiredness etched into their faces and he sniffles. Slowly he reaches down and places the bottle of vodka in her lap. But she remains mute, he’s going to have to go first.

“It was a gift from…” Jonathan pauses, how the hell does he even explain Murray Bauman without getting into more trouble “You know what it doesn’t even matter, you’re right I shouldn’t have it and I’m-I’m sorry” he apologizes and she nods.

“And the other night?” she questions, slowly like she’s worried he’ll lash out again.

“I'm sorry about that too” he murmurs, because he’s not entirely sorry for supporting Nancy but he does feel bad about keeping her up.

"You can't scare me like that Jonathan" she laments, her voice cracking as she tenderly pats his arm.

It takes everything in him not to fall apart when he realizes just how worried she genuinely was.

"I didn't mean to" he whispers, "It's just... it was Barbara's funeral…Nancy needed me" he explains, a tightness in his chest.

Mom mulls his words over and takes a deep breath. He sniffles wishing he could tell her the whole ugly truth about that day. How he almost left them behind, how he and Nancy had their first fight, how he hasn’t been able to get the sound of Mrs.Holland’s wailing out of his head for days. But it all feels moot, like his opportunity to share has passed.

"Just … call next time" she resolves.

“It won't happen again I promise.” Jonathan swears.

“Ok sweetie” she smiles gently, eyes crinkling like he’s holding up a tomato for her to check.

Jonathan pulls into a hug like it’s enough to make up for the mistakes he’s made since then. She squeezes back and for a moment it really is just the two of them against the world. At least until he hears Will pacing in the hallway.

“You know, we could go get a tree now” he offers, pulling away.

“I don’t know, Will might be busy” she jokes and he smiles.

“I’m not” Will shouts from the other side of the door.

Jonathan and Will stomp around the tree lot debating the merits of trees in search of a perfect specimen. Once they reach a consensus, they wrap up their Douglas Fir and somehow Jonathan attaches it to Mom's car. On the way home, Will decides to name the tree Logan for whatever reason and he or Mom just go with it.

The rest of the evening passes in a nostalgic glow, they reminisce over old handmade ornaments, sing-along to cheesy carols and lift mom up to place the ancient star on top of the tree. Mom even offers to make them her famous hot chocolate. But something must happen while she's away because when she comes back all of the joy is gone from her face, dragging their spirits down. After they go to bed, he makes a late night call to Nancy and just hearing her voice feels like coming up for air.

By Thursday afternoon, he decides that hell or high water he's going to the stupid tree lighting. After they drop Nancy and Mike off, he and Will pop into the thrift store and pick out a new green dress shirt for him and a sweater vest for Will. Will begs for a blue and pink striped tie too and even though he thinks it's a useless and stupid piece of fabric he can't deny his brother this simple joy.

When they get home, Jonathan pops in the shower to try to take the chill out of his bones. With great disappointment, he realizes he should've picked up razors while he was out. Not that he really minds much, but Nancy did call him a scruffy-looking nerf herder at lunch. And he never got a straight answer if that was good or bad.

By the time he finishes his shower and gets changed, Mom’s just slid something in the oven and he quietly hopes it’s not something terrible.

“Do you need some help?” Jonathan offers, pulling his yellow sweater over his head.

Mom looks at him confused as he straightens out his sweater.

“With dinner?” he follows up with a small smile, figuring she’s just having a flighty moment.

“Oh yea, yea” she nods, and then shakes her head “Could you put the water on for the potatoes?” she asks, giving him a once-over.

“Sure” he nods.

Jonathan’s hyperaware of her watching his movements but convinces himself to ignore it. Until, out of the corner of his eye, he catches her staring as he fills the water. Then she clumsily grabs a knife and gets to work peeling potatoes at the table.

“What?” he laughs nervously, placing the pot on the stove.

“Nothing, just how are you?” she asks, and he pauses taking another look at her. She’s looking at her potatoes but it’s like she’s focused on something else entirely.

“Fine? How are you mom?” he questions, trying to get to the bottom of her odd behavior.

“Good”

“Good”

“How's school?” she asks, nonchalantly but with a knowing look. Briefly, he wonders if Nancy mentioned how freaked he is over Algebra Two.

“Good” he answers again, figuring there’s no sense in worrying now that finals are over.

Jonathan catches her biting her cheek as he gets to work on some of the dishes in the sink. He hates washing dishes but he figures more brownie points can’t exactly hurt his case.

“Have you thought about any colleges yet?” she pries, just as he thinks he’s shaken her off.

“No, we're just focused on tests mostly,” he responds, trying to settle his own nerves.

“Oh?”

“Yea uh I think Nance said the ACT test in February” he elaborates, opening the cabinet.

There’s a small clatter at the table but he doesn’t think too much of it as he explores the spice rack.

“Have you seen the salt?” he questions, knowing she probably has even less of an idea where it is.

“Well then it’s a good thing you quit work” Mom chuckles.

Jonathan wheels around, knitting his brows together and looks at her. She doesn’t look pale, in fact, she looks more alert than she has in days like she’s waiting for something.

“Are you-”

“So you can study and it's on the counter next to the sink.” She points it out with the knife.

“Yea uh we're thinking about looking for internships next summer anyways” he informs, mentally congratulating himself for letting her in on their plans.

“Hmmm but no schools specifically?” she prods, and he inhales sharply.

Just beyond the cynical question of if she actually gives a shit, is Nancy’s voice telling him she wouldn’t ask if she didn’t care. Maybe the same is true for mom, at any rate she can’t care if she doesn’t know. If anything, it’s about time he stops leaving her in the dark.

“No I mean… I don't know there's this one called Emerson…. but it's expensive and in Boston so” he stalls, nervous how she’ll respond to the idea of him possibly not going to NYU.

“Look at me” she commands sternly, and he peels his eyes away from the kitchen timer and towards her face. “If it's really what you want we'll make it work” she insists, and for the tiniest moment he believes her.

“I uh…I just…I'm focusing on the tests right now.” he blabbers, warm from embarrassment.

“Ok honey” she nods.

She gets up and dumps the peeled potatoes into the pot as he finishes drying up dishes.

“What was the name of the movie you saw by the way?” she questions, out of nowhere.

“Hmm?”

“The other night? With Nancy?”

“Oh uh Nightmare on Elm Street” he answers, focusing on spot drying a dish and hoping she doesn’t ask any follow up questions.

“Really?” she asks, and he wonders why it matters all of a sudden.

“Yea it wasn't half bad” he lies, crossing his arms.

“Mmmm, I didn't realize Nancy likes scary movies.” she replies, looking at him skeptically.

“Yea uh she thinks they're funny” he huffs, then smiles when thinking of the glow on her face when he woke up. He pauses debating if he should ask her about going out now or if talking any more about his love life will send her back over the edge.

“Honey, could you light a fire? It’s cold in here” Mom asks, before he can make a decision.

“Yea sure mom” he complies, and wanders back into the living room.

About an hour later, he’s pushing peas around his plate and trying to ignore how quiet dinner is. He’s almost ready to offer to put on one of her old records because even Bob Dylan has to be better than this.

“Can I go out tonight? Or am I still grounded?” Jonathan asks, before the chance passes him by again.

“Where?” she asks.

“Nancy just wanted to do something, that's all” he responds, taking a sip of his coke.

He holds his breath, impatiently waiting for her to decide.

“Ok but I want you home early. It's a school night” she orders.

“We're not even doing anything tomorrow” he huffs, she can’t seriously be giving him a curfew after all this time.

“Nine-thirty. I don't want you to be late to school. You can stay out until eleven over break” she promises like that makes his curfew better.

“Fine” he concedes, before getting up to clear his plate.

Jonathan barely finds parking by the time they get downtown but Nancy looks so excited he can't really be mad. As soon as he steps out of the car, his ears are assaulted by the Hawkins High Marching Band’s rendition of Sleigh Ride and the noise is so bad he wants to flee but then Nancy slides their fingers together and he's calm again.

It turns out, the town tree lighting is more or less an excuse for Hawkins residents to drink eggnog and buy random shit. But even he isn't immune to the sweet draw of kettle corn. He hates to admit it, but it's nice to get out of the house. And he loves watching Nancy in her element as she questions Chrissy and The Hawkins Quilting Bee and even Mayor Kline about the event. It may be a puff piece for the weekly streak, but it's her puff piece.

When the lights flicker during the main event she grabs for his hand and squeezes tight. He squeezes back, trying to provide comfort in her brief panic. Once the tree is fully lit, her nerves are washed away in the warm glow.

Towards the end of the night, she somehow drags him onto the Ferris Wheel despite all of his protesting. For a while he does fine, more focused on just how close she's snuggled in next to him. But when the ride stalls at the top and they sway he loses his courage.

“I hate this” Jonathan announces, breathing hard.

“Oh c'mon it's not that bad” she argues, adjusting his jacket around herself.

“You're kidding right?” He questions, a chill running down his spine. “We fall from here and we're toast” Jonathan claims, his voice thin with worry.

“We're not going to fall” she insists, barely able to keep her laughter in.

“That's what everyone says” he dismisses, shutting his eyes as the cart sways in the wind.

“I can’t believe I used to think you were cool” Nancy teases.

“You thought I was cool?” Jonathan counters, he’s been called a lot of things cool isn’t one of them.

“Yea well, we were thirteen so” she justifies, scrunching her nose.

“You know that doesn't really help your case” he maintains in a low whisper.

She pauses, looking out to the town below.

“I don’t know you were just aloof and mysterious and oh shut up!” Nancy shrieks as he starts to grin at the thought. She gently pushes his side.

“I didn’t say anything” Jonathan claims, clinging onto the safety bar for dear life.

“You were different” she says, affectionately once he finishes having a slight panic attack

“Can’t argue with that” he shrugs.

Nancy places her hand over his hand on the bar and even through their gloves, he can feel her warmth.

“Doesn't it all seem so small from here?” she notes with a smile.

Jonathan looks up from their hands and glances out into the night. The edge of town is easy to find, faint lights fading into inky black night. An endless expanse just beyond the limits waiting for them to explore it together.

“Yea” he agrees with a shaky breath as the wheel starts again.

Once they're safely on the ground, they drag their feet back to his car. Neither of them are very thrilled about his shortened curfew but neither of them stupid enough to test his mom's kindness either. When he opens her door, she unexpectedly pushes him against it, tiptoes up and kisses him.

Her mouth is salty and sweet from the kettle corn and she plants her hands on his waist holding him tightly in place.

“Can I come home with you?” Nancy murmurs against his lips.

“My mom will kill me” he argues, pulling away for air, his breath coming out in cloudy puffs.

“Only if she finds out” she claims, resuming their kiss, harder this time, like it’s part of her strategy to convince him.

“You're trying to get me grounded again” he huffs, titling his head back trying to dodge her.

“No, I'm trying to make sure you get a good night sleep” she asserts, pressing her weight into him and he tries not to think about the layers separating them.

“You're such a bad liar” he taunts in her ear, because he can play her little game too. Not well, but he can play it.

“No I'm not!” she protests, pouncing at the slight opening he leaves when he pulls away.

Her lips land on his jaw and travel until they find his again. Softly licking at the corners until he allows her entrance. She dips her tongue in and her hands grasp at his sides as she moves them up underneath his sweater. The small part of his brain that still has blood flowing to it knows that they’re in the middle of the street where anyone can see. But the rest of his body surrendering to her touch doesn’t give a shit. Suddenly Nancy detaches and he moans. He heaves in air as her swollen lips form into a smirk.

“What about your parents?” He questions, still breathing hard.

“I paid Mike five bucks to cover for me” Nancy shrugs.

“You were swindled” he mutters.

“Look if you don't want me to come over that's fine” she taunts, sly grin on her face.

“You're impossible to say no to, you know that?” he grumbles as she leans in.

“I love you too” she whispers against his mouth, capturing it in another kiss.

No sooner is Jonathan in his room than Nancy's trying to pry the window open. He meets her there and shimmies the pane up. But Nancy doesn't quite stick her landing this time, sliding into his room because of the fresh snow. He catches her and ‘careful baby’ tumbles out of his mouth before he can think twice about it. She perks up, slams the window shut. The next thing he knows she's got him flat on his back, they’ve both lost their tops and she’s kissing the weak spot near his jaw like her life depends on it.

“Nancy” he whines, tilting his head to catch her lips.

She whimpers when their mouths meet again. Then slowly creeps her hand down toward the waist of his jeans and there's rustling from the other room and shit. Nancy, sharp as ever, immediately pulls away and covers his mouth with her hand. He breathes hard against her palm, she bites her lip to control herself. But he watches the lightbulb go off in her mind. He pleads in a muffled, desperate, whisper but she grinds down against him with a mischievous grin. And just as he's thinking this is so hot he might die, there's shuffling in the hallway outside his door.

If mom barges in he's screwed, he can barely think straight to even come up with a bad lie. Let alone a good one. Time seems to slow as they wait for the inevitable, he gets distracted by the rise and fall of Nancy's chest. Hell-bent on revenge or maybe just stupid with want, he reaches up and cups her breast, stroking gently. Nancy keeps her mouth sealed, but he can hear the whimper caught in her throat. She breathes hard, screws her eyes shut. Then, the footsteps retreat, Nancy moves her hand and he lets out a sigh of relief.

“That was close” he whispers, and glares at him before rocking again.

“Ssh” she murmurs, leaning down to kiss him.

Jonathan drives Nancy home so early the sun is barely up. After exchanging ‘I love you's’ he watches her sneak back in through the basement wishing he could stay with her just a little longer. When he gets home, he busies himself by making pancakes.

Maybe it's the start of winter break or Mom's renewed interest in his life or just being in love but he feels lighter than he has in ages. He hums to himself as Mom pours coffee, lost in his own world.

"What happy times together we've been spending " he softly croons as he flips a pancake.

Normally, he hates The Beach Boys but he’s had Wouldn’t It Be Nice stuck in his head since Monday when Nancy sang it while he was doing last minute developments for his art portfolio.

“Pancakes!?!” Will exclaims, as he joins them.

“Yea, I figured we could celebrate getting out early” Jonathan smiles as Will grabs the orange juice from the fridge.

“What?” Mom asks, looking from Will to Jonathan and back again.

“The semester is over, we have a short day” he answers, flipping another pancake. He could've sworn he wrote it on the family calendar. Then again, he's not sure the last time she looked at the family calendar.

“A short day?” she repeats like it's a completely foreign concept.

“Yea, school’s out early” Will explains, grabbing pancakes from the stack.

“You forgot?” Jonathan questions

“No” she denies, “No I just work late tonight so you two are on your own for dinner is all” she informs, and instantly he's thinking of inviting Nancy over.

“Well then can I spend the night at Mike's instead?” Will begs, in-between bites of pancakes.

“Uh I don't know sweetie you've got the Snowball tomorrow” Mom stalls as he turns off the stove.

“Yea but Jonathan can pick me up, right Jonathan?” Will asks as he sits down.

“Uh yea, that's not a problem with me” Jonathan answers, trying to hide his excitement at the possibility of an empty house as he grabs the syrup.

“I don't…” she hesitates, making eye contact with Jonathan.

“Oh c'mon Mom please” Will pleads, throwing his hands together for dramatic effect and Jonathan chuckles.

“Alright, fine, fine.”

“You’re the best” Will admonishes, happily bouncing in his seat as he grabs more pancakes.

“You’ll be alright on your own?” Mom asks with a concerned look.

“Yea, of course” he reassures, nonchalantly. Knowing damn well he won't be alone at all.

Nancy's over the moon when Jonathan tells her the plan and he can't help but join in her excitement. True to his word, he pops into Miss Kelly’s office for one last chat. His heart sinks when he notices the pothos cut to shreds in the window.

“What happened!?” He panics, believing that somehow it's his fault for getting that stupid lamp.

“Oh, I repotted yesterday so I pruned a little” she explains, but he and Miss Kelly have a very different idea of what ‘a little’ means.

“It’s fine Jonathan, it’ll be better in the long run you’ll see” she soothes as he takes a seat and watches snow flurries hit the window.

“I-”

“I have something for you actually” she announces, handing him a mason jar filled with water and a clipping.

“Uh thanks… but … I don’t know the first thing about plants. I'd probably kill it” he laughs nervously, placing the jar back on her desk.

“I don’t think that’s true” Miss Kelly smiles gently.

Jonathan shifts his gaze from her to the stems in the glass. The green leaves look more vivid up close but fragile too. He’s hit with a sudden instinct to care for the little plant despite his initial concerns.

“I mean, I guess I’ll try” he mutters, cautiously picking up the glass.

“It’ll probably be a slow growth since it’s winter but-”

“It’ll grow” he concludes, looking at the leaves with a strange certainty

“With time and care and sunlight of course” she half-jokes with a cheerful smile.

“Right yea” he huffs, then glances at the clock.

There was so much he actually wanted to talk about: His fight with mom, his fight with Nancy, NYU versus Emerson. But he’s running out of time and he really doesn’t even know where to start. He taps his foot, a part of him in disbelief that, after all of his complaining, he wants more time.

“Are we meeting next semester?” he asks, worried she’ll say no.

“Are we?” she questions, and he's almost annoyed at her putting the ball back in his court.

“Yea uh, yea I think it’ll be good to help plan for college and just you know… talk” Jonathan informs, confident in his decision for once.

“I think so too” Miss Kelly nods and his chest expands.

Later, when Coach Miller decides that Frosty The Snowman is sufficient educational content, he notices that Chrissy also has a pothos cutting on the edge of her desk. She ties a small green ribbon around the rim with a small smile and he can’t help but remember Barb sitting by the pool. At this moment he knows Chrissy Cunningham and that's a strange feeling indeed. Sure he doesn’t have the slightest clue about cheerleading or her exact problems but he knows that they’re each doing their best to try and be better, to change. She catches him staring, he points at his own plant, she smiles a wide toothy grin and he smiles back at her. Then, as quick as it came, the moment is over and he spends the rest of class trying to memorize the feeling.

The rest of the school day passes by swiftly after that, somehow Mr. Mundy has already graded their finals and somehow, against all odds, he didn’t fail. He’s so happy that when he meets Nancy at her locker he kisses her without a care in the world who sees. He praises her flashcards all the way to the car and only really stops because she turns up the music to drown him out. When they arrive at the Wheelers to drop off Mike and Will, Mrs. Wheeler invites them in for lunch and against his better judgement he accepts.

Mrs. Wheeler makes way too many sandwiches but doesn’t ask too many questions. She regales them with a story about how she knew Nancy and Jonathan would be together when he gave her his antlers after hers broke during their Christmas pageant in first grade. And although he doesn’t quite remember that, he smiles, laughs and holds Nancy’s hand as her mom animatedly recounts the story. When the boys rush down to the basement, Nancy takes it as their opportunity to leave, she convinces him to let her drive in-between kisses as they put back on coats, hats and gloves away from Karen’s watchful, prying eyes.

Despite the snow coming down, Nancy navigates the way home with ease. As long as she watches her speeding, Jonathan has no doubt that she’ll pass her test with flying colors. Her parking could also use a little work, but he’ll blame it on the snow. On the way inside, she smacks him in the back of the head with a snowball and by the time he wheels around she’s launching another. Jonathan spends most of their fight dodging, sliding and missing until Nancy finally calls a truce and they build a snowgirl together as a peace agreement. Jonathan contributes a carrot nose and a decade old scarf, Nancy sacrifices her pink pom-pom hat and they christen their creation Clara-Simone because they can’t agree on a name.

After a cup of hot chocolate and a rousing game of scrabble, they nestle into the couch and she leans her head on his shoulder. Wind rustles through the house, but he can’t bring himself to get up and make a fire, too content to move. More than content, happy. If he had known a year ago how much joy, how much fun, he’d have when they’re together.. Except, on some level, he did know he just didn't let himself have it for whatever stupid reason.

“Nancy?”

“Yea?”

“I’m sorry for making you wait” Jonathan apologizes, earnestly.

She lifts her head up, quiet as a church mouse as they gaze at each other. Just as he's starting to think he's said something completely off putting, she leans in closer and parts her perfect pink lips

“It was worth it” Nancy whispers, “You're worth it”

Warmth floods his veins and Jonathan kisses her fiercely, desperately like it’s the only thing in the world that actually matters. Nancy responds with a humming noise, grabbing at his chest until she travels her hand to the back of his neck. He brings his up to cradle her head, smiling as she pulls away for air. Nancy presses their lips together again, but quickly breaks away. He tries to lean in but she shifts around straddling one leg and then the other. When she's securely in his lap, she kisses him again, hard. Nancy deepens their kiss, exploring every inch of his mouth. Jonathan moves his hands to her waist, partially just to steady himself. She softly bites his bottom lip, and he can feel his jeans restricting.

Nancy smiles against his mouth, travels her hand down, loosens his belt and then runs her hand against his jaw. Jonathan pauses to pant and look at her flushed face then lifts up to kiss her again. He crawls his hand under her fuzzy pink sweater, hiking it up and guiding his hand until he’s cupping her breast just as the lights flick on.

Suddenly, Nancy pulls away her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath.

“Oh my God" Nancy shrieks.

But he's so captivated by her swollen lips that he doesn't even think to ask what's wrong. Jonathan leans back in but she places her hand on his chest and pushes him away. And that's when he notices Mom turned around in the doorway.

"Shit"

"I'm not looking" mom swears.

“Kill me” Jonathan mumbles as Nancy quickly detaches herself desperately trying to straighten out her sweater.

He frantically fastens his belt, trying to ignore his discomfort as he adjusts. Then he stares at his hands, at first he places them on his jeans but that feels wrong. He glances at Nancy, takes her lead and sits on his hands. Figuring then no one has to look at them .

“Mom you can uh turn around” he announces hesitantly, holding his breath.

She faces them, white as a ghost. She gives them a once over, examining them. He tries to straighten up, even though he wishes he could sink into the ground. She can't quite look him in the eye, and he can't either, instead focusing on the faded wallpaper surrounding her.

“Well” she clears her throat “This is uh unexpected but I'm happy for you both really but-”

“You didn't tell her" Nancy accuses, her hand flying wildly as she glares at him.

“What no! I did I swear!” Jonathan defends, his voice thin.

"Jonathan-" she starts to scold him for lying, he really should know better.

"Mom, I told you after Thanksgiving, remember?" he interrupts, trying to jog her memory.

She pauses, mulling it over and he crosses his arms nervously tapping his fingers along his elbows.

“You said you were going out with Nancy” she recounts, brows knitted together.

“See” Jonathan hisses at Nancy, who rolls her eyes at him.

“So this whole time you've been…” Mom says, slowly like it’s all coming together.

“Going out” he offers, with a small smile.

“With Nancy” she nods.

“Right”

“What did you think I meant?” he asks, unsure how their signals could’ve gotten this crossed.

“That you were going out like out. Like out of the house or…”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Nancy worm her lips fighting a laugh. She smiles at Jonathan and he sighs.

“We're together” he explains, lacing their fingers together for emphasis.

“Mmmm I can see that” Mom snarks, shaking her head and he’s almost offended.

“Sorry about the confusion and the other thing” Nancy murmurs softly,

“I need… I need to take a drive.” she imparts.

“What!?” They chorus.

“Mom, wait” he shouts, but he’s too slow getting up and she’s already out the door.

Jonathan hears her peel off and stands there stunned. Nancy gets up from the couch and gently grips his shoulder.

“Jonathan? Honey? Should we go after her?” she asks.

“No, uh no” he decides, rubbing his eyes “She just does this sometimes when she's overwhelmed” he explains,

“I mean I get that” Nancy responds with a nod.

“What?”

“Just this whole time she's had no idea we were together-”

“Which I don't get. I was just talking about you last night! About our plans” Jonathan informs, replaying the conversation in his mind.

“Maybe-”

“I told her Nancy, I told her” he swears.

“Yea, she just misunderstood I'm sure” she offers, but she seems unconvinced.

Defeated, Jonathan wanders into the kitchen. Nancy trails behind taking a seat at the table. He can feel her eyes following him as he pulls out leftovers to reheat for a late dinner. He reminds himself that this isn't normal. He's sure that Karen never runs out when she gets anxious. In fact, he's pretty sure Karen doesn't get anxious. He does his best to calm Nancy's nerves but they both end up pushing their food around plates. Nancy takes it upon herself to wash the dishes and he doesn't argue.

Jonathan taps on the table, deep down this is his fault and he knows it. He's spent the better part of a month shutting mom out and now she's run off to God knows where. If he's really honest with himself, he's held back talking about Nancy because being so happy, so in love, makes him feel like he's gloating. He's undoubtedly sent her into another grief spiral.

But what if… What if this is just the way things are now? What if she never stops grieving? Can he really manage her depression forever? Jonathan already knows he can't, he's tried to outrun the responsibility. If it weren't for Will and Nancy, he'd be in Chicago right now.

Swiftly, he gets up and starts pacing around the kitchen. Mom wouldn't… Would she? Sure, he's probably made her feel like a complete failure as a mother but she'd come back? For Will's sake?

“Maybe I should call Hopper” he frets, wondering what he’ll tell his brother tomorrow if she still isn't home tomorrow.

“Jonathan, I really don’t think-”

“No, you’re right I’ll just go out and look myself” he nods, hanging back up the phone.

“Honey, I’m not so sure-”

“No, no it’s fine you stay here in case she comes back and I’ll go” he maintains, checking his pockets for his keys. He comes up empty, they must be in his coat. He moves to leave the kitchen, but Nancy catches his arm.

“Would you listen to me?” Nancy asserts, and he turns to look at her.

“Sorry it’s just I don’t… I don’t know what to do.” he worries, his panic making his voice hoarse.

“Which is why we should both stay here” Nancy insists, rubbing his arm “You’re worrying too much to think straight” Nancy expresses, affectionately. She gives him a quick kiss, as if to soothe him or calm him down. But Mom’s stunned face flashes in his mind.

“She literally saw me groping you” Jonathan grumbles with a sigh.

“Yea, not our finest hour but I’m sure she’ll be back I mean she said…”

Nancy pauses, worming her lip and looking away at the dishes drying next to the song. She glances back at him, her eyes dull.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, shrinking down so their eyes are level.

“Nothing just…” she stalls “She said she’s happy for us but.”

“What?”

“She said but” Nancy recalls, frowning and Jonathan’s heart sinks.

“I’m sure it’s just because she was, you know, shocked” he whispers, trying to comfort her.

But he can tell that she isn’t convinced.

“What if she doesn’t like me?” Nancy worries, and he gets the feeling that this insecurity isn’t exactly new.

“Nancy c’mon she likes you” Jonathan reassures with a smile.

“Yea as Mike’s older sister not as your girlfriend” Nancy dismays.

“Why wouldn’t she like you?” he counters, sure they haven’t exactly gotten time to talk but if Mom can’t see how wonderful Nancy is then she needs her vision checked.

“I stabbed your brother.” she grouses.

“I thought we talked about that.” he reminds, as far as he’s concerned her quick thinking saved Will and Mom. He’s not sure what he would’ve done if she wasn’t there to come to their rescue. He told her as much, weeks ago when she showed up with a casserole and a new phone.

“Yea. But your mom and I haven’t” Nancy laments, stress in her wrinkled brow “And-And she doesn’t call me sweetheart anymore” she blabs, looking at him with frantic eyes.

“What?” he questions. He’s trying to take her seriously, but his smile threatens to break through.

“You know, growing up it was always Nancy, sweetheart and now it’s just Nancy” she rambles, and he catches himself grinning at her antics “And don’t look at me like that”

“Sorry, look I'm sure it's fine she's just a little surprised you know but she'll come around” he swears.

Nancy worms her lip again.

“Besides, I like you” he whispers, tenderly.

“Not the point” she grumbles.

“I can call you sweetheart if you really want” he suggests, catching her attention again

“Jonathan”

“Yes sweetheart?” he flirts, shamelessly.

A pink glow floods her cheeks, she glances at his mouth and then back up gazing into his eyes. He smiles softly at her, feeling grateful to be able to call her sweetheart. From the entryway to the kitchen he hears a quiet ‘ahem’ and he and Nancy both jump out of their skins.

“Mom” Jonathan acknowledges, turning around to face her.

“Hi” she greets softly, her voice hoarse.

“How was your drive?” he asks, shakily. He instantly regrets asking, Her eyes are puffy and red, clearly she's been crying. Nancy appears next to him, sliding her hand into his for moral support.

“Fine, tiring. I’m going to bed, make sure to get Nancy home soon.” Mom nods, eyes fixated on their joined hands.

“Uh yea, yea I will” he agrees, sharing a look with Nancy that he understands to mean she's not ready to leave just yet.

“Goodnight sweetie” Mom smiles, like any of this is normal behavior.

“Good-goodnight” Jonathan falters, somehow more confused than when she left.

He unintentionally follows her down the hallway, staring at the back of her head until her door slams shut sealing her away. He reminds himself that she’s just in shock, he reacted worse when she announced she was seeing Bob. So really, he has no room to judge. At least she’s not blasting Love Will Tear Us Apart. In retrospect he was harsh, to put it mildly. But he really thinks she’s overreacting; it's not like Nancy’s a complete stranger.

“Jonathan I think we should-”

“Right, right” he nods, opening the door to his room.

Nancy follows him in taking a seat on the edge of his bed. He grabs his old green shirt from his dresser and offers it to her. She takes it, worming her lip and knitting her brows together.

“Don’t worry, she'll come around. She just needs to sleep on it that's all” He reassures, peeling off his flannel.

“Jonathan” Nancy begins, shirt still in her hands.

“Oh sorry, do you want something with sleeves?” He asks, pulling his white thermal out and handing it to her.

“Maybe we should stop seeing each other” Nancy suggests suddenly, and it's like all the air leaves the room.

It’s so quiet that he can hear the wind blowing outside, mom tossing and turning through the wall and his own breathing. Nancy sniffles, unable to look at him and his heart aches. A couple hours ago he was worth the wait, did mom’s reaction really change her mind?

“Why?” he whispers, crossing his arms as if to protect himself from rejection.

“Just until things calm down with your mom and…”

Jonathan tunes her out, he doesn’t mean to but all he can think of is their snowball fight. The wide grin across her face, her eyes bright and mischievous, snowflakes caught in the bow in her hair and the way she laughed light and happy without a care in the world. He looks around his room, taking in the pile of books on the nightstand, pothos on the desk next to his camera, and Nancy, his beloved partner in crime. Her head’s bowed and she's nervously wringing his shirt in her hands.

“I don't want to go back” he realizes.

Nancy perks up, looking at him with sad watery eyes.

“To how it was how we were, it was- I was lonely and I can't…” Jonathan pauses, taking a deep breath “I don't want to go back to eating lunch alone or doing homework by myself or dropping Will off at the arcade and-and hiding away in here thinking about what I would do if we were together instead of doing it” he explains, clearly, louder than he should.

Nancy bits her lip again, still hesitant. He sits down next to her and tenderly cups her jaw.

“I love you” he says, voice heavy with conviction “And I can't just … let that linger to make things easier for my mom.”

“But Jonathan-”

“I know it's difficult and messy and hard” Jonathan rambles, and Nancy sniffles again. He moves his hand to cover hers, gently unfurling her fingers from his shirt and turning her palm over. He runs his thumb along her scar and smiles softly.

“But I also know that there's nothing you and I can't do together. I mean, grand scheme this is a lot easier than the world ending.” he jokes with a huffy laugh. But Nancy doesn't return it.

“I love you too but I can't let you pick me over your family” she argues, and his chest hurts.

“It's not that- you…you're part of my life, part of me. Just as much as they are. We’re.…connected I think… I think we always will be” Jonathan confesses, softly.

Nancy lets his words hang in the air. Mulling them over when he really wishes she'd say something. Even if it's that she never wants to see him again. Slowly, she curls her fingers around his own.

“You really love me that much?” Nancy questions in disbelief.

“Well yea, I don’t plan my future with just anybody you know?” Jonathan teases with a playful grin. She smiles back, laughing softly before giving him a tender kiss.

In the early hours of dawn, he swears he hears the door open, but before he can open his eyes and lift his head it shuts again. The next time he stirs, Nancy's gazing at him lovingly. A violent crimson floods her cheeks when she realizes she's been caught and he can't help but laugh.

They're slow to get up, taking their time with cuddles and kissing and I love you’s. Eventually, they drag themselves out of their cocoon and out of the house. When they get to the Wheelers, Jonathan reluctantly lets her go, watching her walk through the front door and wondering what the hell she told her parents to get away with their sleepover. He should ask for tips. Though somehow he doubts that Mom would be as accepting or gullible as Karen.

Will seems to exit the house as soon as Nancy enters. He looks half asleep with his messy hair and his coat buttoned lopsided. He lets out a heavy yawn when he gets in the car and Jonathan gets the sense that he was up all night playing video games with Mike.

Once they get home Will heads straight to bed, confirming Jonathan's suspicions. He sits on the couch and turns on the tv to try and focus on anything other than the clock counting down to Mom’s arrival. What’s she going to say? What’s he going to say? Is this going to become the latest thing they sweep under the rug and just don’t talk about?

He jumps up, does a circuit around the living room and decides that the best course of action is to write down his thoughts so he doesn't miss anything. He spends the next couple of hours writing, crossing out and rewriting a weird psuedo-apology to mom. Trying to find the exact right way to say he's sorry she had to find out the way she did but she's just going to have to accept that Nancy's part of their lives now.

He distills his thoughts into a list: He loves Nancy, Nancy loves him, he’s sorry she had to find out about that, he’ll try to talk about it more, and most importantly he’s happy really, really happy. When he’s satisfied with it, he rouses Will from his nap for a late lunch or early dinner. Will fidgets the whole time, anxiously checking the clock every three minutes. Jonathan finally turns him loose, simply so he won’t make himself sick with worry.

As soon as Will’s out of the shower, he swaps places letting the wash over him and take away his troubled thoughts. It almost works, at least until Will starts pounding on the door screaming for him. Panicked, he rushes to turn the shower off and quickly throws a towel on before opening the door.

“Are you ok?” Jonathan asks in a rush.

“I can’t find my new shirt” Will frets.

He blinks and then breathes, attempting to slow his heartrate back down.

“Help Me” Will pleads

“You’re going to give someone a heart attack” Joanthan grumbles, shuffling to his room to at least get some clothes on.

They search the house top to bottom, his room, Will’s room. Will gets more and more distressed as they go along. They’re digging through piles of laundry in the living room when mom arrives. He doesn’t even notice at first, too into the task at hand but Will shoots up.

“Mom, thank God, Jonathan can’t find my shirt” Will complains, and he frowns.

“You need to keep better track of your things” Jonathan argues, still separating clothes.

“It’s on the chair in my room I fixed the button the other night” Mom informs. At this, Jonathan stops his search, slowly turning around to look at her.

“Thanks mom” Will appreciates as he breezes by out of the room.

Mom looks but doesn’t say anything. All at once, he forgets his words, cursing himself for leaving the paper in his room. She reaches into her bag and hands him shaving cream and razors. Her olive branch that he doesn’t deserve.

“Thanks” he mutters with a nod, before returning to the bathroom.

He looks in the mirror and tries to tidy his hair or at least push it to one side. He realizes he’s fighting a losing battle and focuses on shaving instead. He uncaps the lid and no sooner is the foam on his face and the razor in his hand than the phone rings. Shit.

Jonathan races out the bathroom, determined to pick up before mom does. But he’s too slow, mom’s already there, a scowl on her face. They make eye contact as he catches his breath and her glare dissipates but his nerves remain.

“How long has your dad been calling?” she asks, softly.

He glances down, tracking the grooves of the worndown floor with his eyes. He swallows hard, he’s in deep shit. He should’ve told her already.

“I don't… probably a month or so” he begins, so much has happened that he can barely keep it straight in his head, “it got worse after … after the news about Barb” he whispers.

“The news?” Mom questions, catching her attention. She doesn’t know…Of course she doesn’t she cancelled the paper and he never told her so…

“Yea” he nods, “She was exposed to toxic chemicals from the lab” he elaborates, using air quotes.

“Hmm and your dad heard that and-”

“Probably figured he could get money or something” Jonathan assumes, clearing his throat.

“Were you going to tell me?” Mom asks, hollow-eyed.

Disappointed in him if he has to guess. He shakes his head no, she sighs and he wishes he could just disappear so he didn’t have to deal with the discomfort.

“It's not your job to protect me from him you know” she informs, tenderly like he’s still crying over scraped knees.

“You and Will have been through enough” he argues, straightening up.

“Yea” she agrees “But so have you” she laments.

“I’m fine” Jonathan dismisses.

Mom gives him a once-over, a small smile tugging at her lips. Then she takes a deep breath, and a haze of nostalgia clouds her eyes. But there’s something else he can’t quite put a name too but reminds him of when she taught him how to ride a bike for some reason.

“I think… maybe you should let me worry about things.” she counters.

“Mom” he protests, exasperated.

“What with clubs and college and your girlfriend. Your plate seems pretty full already” she teases, smiling again.

“I can-”

“I know you can.” she acknowledges, “But I want you to worry about being seventeen” she requests, clearly.

Initially, all he can think is what a stupid ask that is; to concern himself with frivolous things like dates, and grades and photography when they have real problems. Then, he remembers her bright glow captured in that photo and he wonders if anyone ever told her she only needed to worry about being seventeen. Except, he already knows the answer, it’s standing right in front of him. Pleading with him not to worry too much. To slow down, and breathe and not let life pass him by. And really, isn't that what he's wanted this whole time?

“Ok” he agrees, with a nod.

“Ok” she echoes, with a smile. He moves in to give her a hug, figuring she needs it more than him.

“Mom, you still need to teach me how to dance” Will reminds, rushing into the room before he can reach her.

“Let me get the camera” Jonathan says, with a wide smile.

He pops into his room, changing as quickly as he can. He scoops up his camera, but then the JVC catches his eye. Jonathan picks it up carefully, like it'll break under his touch. He steadies his grip on the camcorder but instead his usual gnawing guilt he finds himself strangely grateful. For all his bullshit, Bob never gave up on trying to connect with him. To know him. Understand him. If he ends up half as gracious as Bob Newby he'll be a better person for it. Jonathan exhales, slowly but surely forgiving himself.

Then, he rejoins Mom and Will. She clicks on the radio, trying her best to teach Will as he circles around them. To Jonathan's surprise, Will's a worse dancer than he is but at least he's giving it an honest effort. Shortly after he fibs about Mom's dancing still being popular, Will declares that he's peeing and then they're leaving and it takes everything in him to keep his laugh in as he exchanges a look with Mom. He places the camera down, gently on the coffee table. Last Christmas wails through the speakers and he huffs out a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” she wonders.

“Nothing, Nancy just likes this song that’s all” he answers, smiling at the thought of her singing along as she gets ready.

“She likes New Order too, right?” Mom asks.

“Yea” he answers, wondering how she knows that when she only figured out they were together yesterday.

“But uh not as much as Cyndi Lauper or Blondie” he informs.

“Ah”

Jonathan softly hums along to distract himself from the feeling that Mom didn't really want to know.

“Where’s your tie?” Mom questions, glancing at his open collar.

“I’m not wearing one” he responds, gruffly.

“Oh c'mon, don't you want to look nice?” she persuades.

“I look plenty nice” he argues, crossing his arms.

“Jonathan”

“Mom c’mon it’s just a middle school dance” he groans.

“For Nancy?” she suggests. And he hates that it almost works.

“Mom seriously I don’t-”

“If I have to wear one, so do you” Will interjects.

“I don’t…” Jonathan pauses. God this is so embarrassing. “I don’t know how to-”

“Just go grab your tie” Mom orders.

Jonathan begrudgingly complies, quickly retrieving his black tie from his room and handing it over when he returns. Mom lifts the collar of his shirt looping the tie underneath, concentrating intensely.

Up close, he can't help but notice the fine lines around her eyes seem more prevalent, the smattering of silver strands in her hair, and just how small she is.

“Ok so the skinny end goes up here” she mutters, glancing up to make sure he's paying attention.

Jonathan checks back in, tracking her movements with his eyes.

“Then it crosses to make an x” she continues, and he has the weirdest feeling that they've done this before.

“Then the bunny goes through the hole” she rattles, flipping the tie through.

They have done this before, ages ago. When she seemed as tall as the world is wide.

“I thought that was for shoelaces” he recalls, with a grin.

“It works here too” mom nods, “Now pay attention, you'll need to know this for the Wheeler’s party next week” she notes and he takes a sharp breath at the thought.

“So then we go to the side, bunny goes behind the hole and over the shoulder, back into the hole, across again but you want to put your finger in the knot” Mom instructs with ease like it's second-nature.

“How do you know this?” Jonathan murmurs, amazed.

“I did costuming for the drama department in high school” she smiles.

“Really?”

“Yes, now pay attention!” she repeats, growing frustrated with his diversions.

“Bunny goes out of the hole and you flip to show the face, then the big end under your finger and then pull, pull, slide pull. Tighten and-”

“Ow” he hisses as she cinches the knot to an uncomfortable, restrictive, degree.

“It should be a little too tight” she notes, soothingly.

“Why? What if I suffocate” Jonathan protests with a frown.

“You won’t suffocate” she reassures.

“There you go, look so handsome” Mom dotes, patting the knot gently.

“Mom” he groans.

“I mean, I don’t think you’ve gone to a school dance since your own Snowball” she jokes.

He blinks and the memories flood in: His scuffed too tight shoes on the gym floor, the peels of laughter when Tommy H. made fun of him and Nancy Wheeler, sweet, kind, stubborn, Nancy Wheeler in her pink dress and matching bow offering him a cup of punch after.

Mom's still looking at him expectantly, waiting for his reasoning for going to dance. He could blame it on Will, but a part of him knows that's not entirely true.

“Well you know what they say” he offers with a shrug.

Mom raises a brow, not quite following.

“Love makes you crazy” he huffs

“You love her?” Mom asks, sad but almost awestruck too.

“Yea I do” Jonathan confirms, certain and sure..

“Can you repeat that into the camera?” Will teases.

Suddenly Jonathan's so embarrassed that he's seriously thinking about destroying the tape. Then Mom laughs so hard that her whole face lights up. It catches him off guard at first but something in his chest blooms and for the first time in a long time he feels light. Hopeful even.

Will throws a fit about going with him to get Nancy and begs Mom to take him instead. He and Mom agree if only because it seems like the better option. He really doesn't think too much of it until Nancy tells him that Mike carpooled with Lucas. She rolls her eyes over their dramatics and he chalks it up to them being thirteen because they really haven't been that affectionate around the kids.

Jonathan spends most of the dance corralling kids for photos, tuning out the shitty pop music and sneaking glances at Nancy. He doesn't get too distracted until Time After Time plays and she scoops Dustin up for a dance. He takes a couple shots of her as they sway and she imparts some wisdom before returning to his post. Later, when the kids start filing out of the gym he abandons his post and joins her at the punch bowl.

“Hey, can you believe they're playing this for middle schoolers?” Nancy asks, offering him a cup of punch.

“I requested it, actually” Jonathan softly informs. Placing his cup on the table.

“Why?” she questions, raising a brow.

“Because I owe you a dance” he explains, holding his hand out. Nancy smiles and eagerly takes his hand.

He guides them out the dancefloor, she wraps her arms around his neck and he pulls her in close as they glide across the floor. He places one hand on her back, brings her hand down from his neck and takes it with his other hand so they’re posed just like Mom taught him all those years ago.

“Why’d you offer me the punch anyway?” he asks, tilting his head down to look at her.

“I thought you were thirsty” she answers, confused.

“I meant back then” Jonathan elaborates, barely above a whisper.

“Oh, because I had a crush on you” Nancy clarifies, beaming up at him.

“You had a crush on me?” he questions.

“You didn't know?” she retorts, laughter building.

“Not a clue” Jonathan laughs, and Nancy returns the sentiment.

Jonathan spins her out and pulls her in closer when she returns. Then he dips her and he can barely hear the music over the sound of their light and breezy laughs. Nancy’s eyes sparkle, overflowing with love for him of all people. He’s the luckiest guy in the world. The music ends, bringing their long overdue dance to an end. He kisses her hand before letting her, smiling as her face blooms with a pink glow.

They spend the next hour clearing up their respective stations, taking down decorations and cleaning up the punch bowl. Mr. Clarke, of all people, is incredibly suspicious why it takes both of them to do the last task but he lets it go and Jonathan’s grateful for it. Nancy somehow persuades him into another sleepover and he grumbles about how she can’t just keep springing it on him and that they need to both plan beforehand but he doesn’t exactly say no either.

Once they finish their duties, they take the long way home. He navigates the familiar, old, roads as Nancy sings along to the radio and marvels at the snow covering the landscapes. When they get to his house, she gives him a quick kiss before setting out for his bedroom window. He continues through the front door, pulling off his coat and loosening his tie before noticing the glow of the TV in the living room.

“Oh hey what are you still doing up?” he greets, in a whisper. Leaning in the doorframe.

Mom raises her brow, gestures to him and warmth floods his face.

“Right sorry we-”

“You don’t need to apologize” she interrupts with a soft smile.

“I don’t?” he questions, skeptical.

“No” she answers with a huffy laugh.

“Ok” he nods “Well uh good night mom” he bids, eager to join Nancy before she freezes to death.

“Sweetie?”

“Yea” he notes, turning around to face her again.

Mom pauses and looks at him, really looks at him. Almost like she’s trying to capture all the details of who he is at this moment. His slumped shoulders, open collar and tired eyes. She’s trying to commit; Jonathan Byers, age 17, After the Snowball to her own personal yearbook.

“I'm sorry” she says finally, absolutely flooring him.

He turns the apology over in his mind, knitting his brows together and trying to figure out why she’s the one apologizing. Cautiously, he enters the living room slowly taking a seat next to her on the couch and waiting.

“I've been… I’ve been checked out lately and I'm…I'm sorry about that” she elaborates, making eye contact that he quickly avoids.

“It's fine” he insists, nervously twisting his hands around each other.

“It is not fine! I didn't even know you had a girlfriend,” Mom laments, her voice cracking.

“Neither did I at first if it makes you feel better.” Jonathan laughs, and she sniffles.

“You can talk more about her, you know” Mom encourages, affectionately patting his arm to stop his fidgeting.

“I really don't think I can” he admits, “I mean I don’t even… she's just so… and her eyes… and she's brilliant…and when she smiles…and…” he struggles, trying to come up with the perfect way to describe his girl.

“Aww my baby's in love” she coos, and he blushes so hard he can feel it in his ears.

“Goodnight mom” he grouses, rushing up from the sofa.

“Goodnight” she returns.

“Jonathan, one last thing” she calls, before he can fully leave the room.

“Yea?”

“No more sleepovers on school nights” she enforces, a firm but tender look on her face.

Shit. They probably kept her up but they’d been so careful…and Nancy’s waiting for him…maybe she’s just guessing..

“How?” he stalls, trying not to give away all his cards.

“I'm your mother, I know everything” she insists, with a wide smile.

“Yea right” he huffs, grinning.

Jonathan wishes her goodnight one last time, quickly leaving before she can figure out he’s lying.

“Technically it’s not a school night” Nancy whispers, as soon as he enters his room.

She’s already changed out of her dress and it looks like she’s trying to pull pins out of her hair in the dim light. He switches on the lights and sure enough she’s in his white thermal letting the rest of her hair down.

“You got us in trouble” he grumbles, unbuttoning his dress shirt.

“I don't see how this is my fault” she argues, shaking out her curls

“Of course you don't” he counters, clearing his throat.

Nancy inches closer and wraps her arms around him, pulling him down into a gentle kiss.

“We'll just have to be quieter” she informs and he rolls his eyes, “You can do that right?” she teases, with a mischievous grin.

She kisses him again, but he pulls away before they can get carried away.

“Wait” Jonathan requests, moving her hands down and holding them in his own “Can I tell you something and you won't be mad?” he asks, his nerves building.

“Honey, why would I get mad?” Nancy questions, giving him a sweet smile.

“Um because it's about us kinda” he confesses, unable to look her in the eye.

“Ok well, now you're kinda freaking me out” she admits.

“I know-I know you have your heart set on Emerson but I…I…” he hesitates, taking a deep breath.

“Jonathan?” Nancy calls sweetly, shrinking down so he’s looking at her face and not the floor.

He takes another breath, straightens up and squeezes her hand in his own. She squeezes back, just as steady as the night they burned that thing out of Will. He looks into her curious, bright eyes and he knows that no matter how he phrases it, he’ll have her support.

“I still wanna try for NYU” Jonathan informs as clear and direct as the day he told Mom.

“Is that all?” Nancy smiles.

“Yea”

Nancy pulls him into a hug, wrapping her arms around him and burying her head in his chest. He rests his chin on the top of her head and gives her a kiss. He’s not sure he’s ever felt as safe as he does in her arms.

“You in New York, I like it” she decides, readjusting so she can look at him.

“Yea?”

“Yea I mean, it's close enough to Boston” she informs, her chin digging into his chest.

“We can barely live across town, you really think we can do close enough” he doubts, nervously tapping at the small of her back.

“No, but you said there's nothing we can't do and grand scheme it'll be a lot easier than the end of the world” Nancy promises and Jonathan sweeps her into a kiss.

Epilogue

Jonathan’s trying to pay attention to the broadcast, but there’s simply too much going on. Why the hell Mom volunteered their house for the New Year’s party is beyond him. The boys are arguing over something, Hopper is awkwardly trying to help mom with snack distribution, and Nancy’s curled up next to him, weaving her hand in the back of his hair without a care in the world. He’s about to ask if she wants to hide in his room, but mom wanders in from the kitchen and places two cokes on the table.

“Thanks Mrs. Byers” Nancy appreciates with a smile.

“Of course Sweetheart” Mom responds, winking at Jonathan while Nancy’s distracted.

He does his best to hide his embarrassment as she wanders back into the kitchen. Though he has to admit she’s really been taking him having a girlfriend in stride now that she’s finally figured it out. She even insisted that Nancy come over for Christmas Eve dinner last week, which went significantly better than his first dinner at the Wheelers.

Nancy reaches for her drink but before she can Mike whizzes past them, stealing it. To his shock, she doesn’t chase him down.

“I'm trying to be nicer” Nancy informs, noticing his surprise.

“That's admirable” Jonathan notes, entirely sincere.

“Thanks” she says, scrunching her nose “It's my New Years resolution”

Just then Mike burps loudly and Nancy looks like she wants to call him disgusting but shows restraint.

“We'll see how long it lasts” she admits, scooching into his side again, somehow even closer than she was.

Jonathan kisses the top of her head because he’s learned that’s really what she wants when she moves in like this. Nancy smiles, nuzzling his chest, and kissing the fabric of his sweater. He laughs but it gets muffled by Will’s own laughter echoing from the dining room.

“What about you Mr. Byers any New Years resolutions?” Nancy asks, like she wants to know how much he’s wagering on final jeopardy.

“Uh do well on the SATs” he answers, it’s not entirely a lie but he hasn’t really thought too hard about his goals for next year.

The party bursts into the room, falling into various makeshift seats while chattering away. Will trails behind, recording everything on the JVC, he swings around to showcase them on the loveseat and they each wave at the camera. Mom and Hopper laugh hard over something in the kitchen.

“Accept the change” Jonathan announces, and Nancy makes a hmm noise “And I don't know be ok with it I guess” he decides, looking at his small pothos in the corner.

“Well, that's very admirable” Nancy compliments, leaning up to give him a kiss.