Her Mixtape (Extended Version), Stranger Things

𝖝𝖛𝖎𝖎𝖎. Dig Dug

"Man, I have so many tapes," Bob laughs, "You'll be sick of me by the end of it."

"I can never get sick of you, Dad."

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　　At times, Joyce Byers can seem like an overbearing mother. Her vigilant eyes on both her sons at all times can feel drowning. Will has complained about it before; whenever he sprawls himself on Rue's bed, counting the stick-on-stars on her roof while she sits on her desk, trying something new with her hair. He'd groan and toss around before Rue finally turned to him, asking what was wrong.

It was almost always the same answer; "Mom won't let me do this or that." And it wasn't as if Will had been asking for things that were insane either. He's a thirteen-year-old boy, of course, he wants to do stupid things with his stupid friends like egging houses at night, biking the long way home and sneaking off to the trailer park to throw rocks at mailboxes until they woke the dogs up.

Sometimes Rue felt bad for him. Whenever he sat around in the corner of her house while she giggled next to Kimberly and Lilah as they talked about boys and music. Rue always invited him to join them, and the girls loved his company, but deep down, Rue knew he'd rather be somewhere else doing other stupid stuff.

So, when Bob stops his mint green car before the Byers' small old home, Rue isn't surprised when Joyce rushes out the door before they can even get out of the car.

The autumn air is brisk, a soft breeze blows against Rue's cheeks as her old Converse shoes step onto the gravel road. She tugs on the sleeves of her jacket to cover her hands as she walks around the car to stand next to her dad.

Bob grins wildly when he spots Joyce, raising an arm enthusiastically in the air. "Surprise!" He almost giggles, and it makes Rue smile as they walk up the steps of the porch. "I would've called, but you said not to clog up the line."

Joyce, who holds a blanket around her shoulders, melts at Bob's endearment. A tender smile breaks on her face before she shakes her head as if she's shaking off her affection for a moment. Joyce straightens up, "I know-- I..." Her eyes trail over to Rue before she drops her gaze to the ground, "We're fine we don't need anything."

Stubborn, Bob shakes his head. "When I was a kid," he starts, "and I got sick a lot as a kid..." he chuckles as if recalling a fond memory, "nothing made me feel better than focusing on these brain teasers!"

Rue snorts, kicking a small stone on the ground. "You're such a nerd." She teases.

"You love 'em." Bob nudges her side playfully.

Joyce laughs softly before clearing her throat, "Those are great... gosh..." She makes a weird sound as if she's trying to make a decision.

"I could teach him how to play," Bob offers. "There's a lot of puzzles. They're easy for me now but--"

"He's sleeping," Joyce lets out.

"Okay..." Bob nods, leans closer to Joyce and whispers, "Could I wait with you?"

"Gross." Rue huffs.

The woman lets out a breathy laugh again, before placing her hand on Bob's chest, right above his heart. Bob notices, letting Joyce push him away as he holds her hand with his own.

Joyce smiles at this and says, "Listen, it's just not a good time."

Bob takes this lightly. "I tried."