Say Something, Anything // Ronance

5 + 1

one

Nancy Wheeler did not know through what dark magic Robin Buckley had convinced her to go shopping with her. Perhaps it was those big puppy dog eyes, begging for a companion, or the promise of a pretzel at the mall food court. Perhaps it was that rambling, raspy voice of hers that Nancy could listen to all day, telling her they'd have a great time. Yeah, that was probably it.

It was a relatively recent development for Nancy, realizing Robin's voice made her heart speed up, made her breath hitch. It was embarrassing, really, to be so enthralled by Robin Buckley of all people, but the timber she spoke with was tough to ignore, especially as the two spent the afternoon together.

"Or, I don't know, what do you think about cerulean?" Robin asked, holding up two similarly colored blue button up shirts. She waggled one and then the other, earnest concentration on her features.

"You're telling me cerulean is different from cobalt?" Nancy wondered absently, thumbing through a rack of skirts.

"Oh, they're very different, actually. Which one do you think gives off a 'dependable' aura? Because color theory is honestly inconclusive about this," Robin started, and Nancy knew she was in for a patented Robin ramble.

After a short lecture on hues, Nancy turned from her rack of skirts, taking the button ups off of Robin's hands. She held one up, saying, "this one matches your eyes. Get it."

"So practical," Robin replied with a grin, voice low.

Nancy just hummed, spinning back to the skirts to hide her heated cheeks. Caught up in trying to ignore Robin, she missed the taller girl coming up behind her, observing how she methodically browsed the garments. Nancy thumbed through aimlessly, mind elsewhere, when Robin's arm circled around her, picking up a navy number.

"Slow down, Nance, we've got all day." Nancy inhaled sharply as Robin gently turned her around and held the skirt up to her, hands lightly gripping Nancy's hips. "I like this one."

"Yeah?" Nancy breathed, eyes hooded and jaw slightly clenched.

"Yeah," Robin nodded, voice so painfully low. "Matches my shirt."

She had to be doing this on purpose, Nancy thought. As Robin stepped back, she laughed lightly, but Nancy stayed glued in place. She was in big time trouble.

__

two

Nancy Wheeler was not having a good day. Her hair was not cooperating, she burned her Eggos beyond recognition this morning, and Mike took so long styling his hair that the two were late for school. Again. This had occurred so many times that Nancy accrued enough tardies for detention that afternoon. Just what she needed.

She had recounted all of this to Robin at lunch; for once she was the one rambling. Robin listened intently, nodding along to Nancy's rant, silently sliding half of her orange over.

As the bell rang, Robin stood with a wink. "I'll see you later."

"See me later?" Nancy repeated, though Robin was already lost in the bustling throng of students. "We don't have history today..."

It wasn't until hours later when she understood Robin's meaning. She sat in the depressive, desolate classroom housing detention that day, content to serve her time in glum silence, when a voice from the desk behind her made her jump.

"Hey," sounded that low voice, scratchy and genuine as ever.

Nancy turned in disbelief. "Robin Buckley, what are you doing here?"

"Couldn't let you sit in the clink alone."

Rolling her eyes, Nancy rested her elbow on Robin's desk, chin atop her fist. "It's not prison, just detention."