chapter 002 ,
take those old records off the shelf
halloween night
LUCY TOOK A LONG LOOK AT HERSELF IN THE MIRROR and tried not to vomit in embarrassment. Her costume had been thrown together last-minute, and it was incredibly obvious—an oversized button-up from her dad's closet, a pair of cheap sunglasses, and long white socks: Tom Cruise in Risky Business. A stupid costume for an even stupider party. The only reason she was even thinking about attending was because Jonathan told her he would be there, and Jonathan was practically her only friend, and Leo was out with his friends dressed as Ghostbusters, so Lucy had absolutely no other plans.
"I'm out, Mom," she called, standing in the doorway, her keys hanging off her finger. She waited for a reply. When none came, she yelled again, "MOM!"
"What, baby?" came her mom's voice, probably from the kitchen where she had a large glass of wine in one hand and a cigarette in the other.
"I'm leaving!"
"Have fun!" Heather called back. "Don't get pregnant!"
"Yeah, whatever," Lucy muttered. She paused for a moment of thought, then reached out and flicked the light switch for the porch lights off. Pretty safe to say Heather wouldn't be answering the door for any trick-or-treaters. Lucy scoffed, then shut the door behind her and left for the party.
It wasn't hard to find where the event was being held; when she pulled to a stop at the end of the street, she could hear the music blasting from six houses down. She had to will herself not to get back in her car and drive home when the front door opened to a couple making out in the middle of the entryway. Somewhere, some stereo was blasting Girls On Film, but Lucy thought playing music was pointless if everyone was either talking over it or too drunk to keep their eyes open.
She stood by the door for a second, holding her arm self-consciously. Her gaze danced around the room furtively. There was much to see, much to hear, and much to drink. She'd barely made it a step into the living room before the straw to a keg was shoved in her face, along with an empty cup. Against her better judgement, she took it, holding it in front of herself as the keg-holder spewed beer into it.
"Lucy!" Jonathan's voice exclaimed. She turned to see him behind her, clad in a plain green jacket and jeans. Her eyes narrowed. He looked down at his outfit, then stammered, "I—uh, I didn't.. know what to wear."
"Jonathan Byers, you asshole," she said, shoving his shoulder. "You told me to dress up!"
"And you look great!" he said, gesturing to her costume. "I mean, Tom Cruise is a good look on you."
"Yeah, thanks. You could've given me a heads-up that you weren't dressing up, though. I only wore this because you told me to."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry," he said. His eyes lingered on the cup in her hand for a moment, then trailed off to gaze around the party. "Um, you know, Nancy's dressed as Lana, so you could go talk to her.. Break the ice a bit. It's just weird if you and her are awkward."
"Why is it weird?" Lucy asked nonchalantly, taking another sip of beer.
"Because our siblings are all friends," Jonathan said, his tone that of obviousness. "And if you guys can't be cool with each other, that'll make, like... birthday parties and stuff really awkward. Besides, she's.. really drunk right now."
Lucy's tongue pushed against her cheek thoughtfully. As much as she hated it, he had a point—and she couldn't hold a grudge for her ex finding a new girlfriend. It also was nothing like Lucy Andrews's nature to particularly dislike someone. Well, someone other than Steve Harrington.
She rolled her eyes, exhaling a heavy, put-out sigh. "Fine. I'll be right back."
He smiled at her. "She's in the kitchen. Good luck."
She raised her eyebrows curiously, starting off backwards towards the kitchen. "Why would I need luck?"
Jonathan shook his head, trying to hide his smile. "You're definitely gonna need luck."
When Lucy found her, she realized Jonathan had been wise to stay behind and not engage with a drunken Nancy Wheeler. True to his word, Nancy was dressed as Lana, complete with the black bow tied around her neck. There was a red ring above her lips from the punch she'd clearly had too much of. She was stumbling around, grounding herself by gripping the counter as she reached for another drink.
"Hey," Lucy said, testing the waters. She offered a kind smile. "Hi, Nancy."
"Lucy," she said, the word slurring past her tongue. Her face contorted like Lucy's name tasted weird in her mouth. Then she seemed to realize what the blonde's costume exactly was, and her lips spread into a wide, amused smile. "Joel! You're Joel! Holy shit, we could be a couple!"
She laughed at her own statement, using her free hand to cover her mouth and stifle her giggles.
Lucy managed a smile. "So, uh, Jonathan told me you just—"
Nancy interrupted her, clearly not having heard a single word she'd just said. "You know, Steve's dressed as Joel, too. You guys are twins!"
"Is that right?" Lucy puffed up her cheeks and rolled onto the balls of her feet. It was stupid of her to think she could have a sophisticated conversation with Nancy when she was that many drinks in. "Um, I'll... I have to go. I'll see you later, Nancy."
"No, no, wait!" Nancy grabbed Lucy's wrist and pulled her back. "Steve's gonna lose his shit. He'll think this is hilarious. You have to show him. Look, here he comes—"
"Oh, no, Nancy, it's fine—"
"Nance, I think you've had enough," Steve was saying as he came over to the counter. He didn't take notice of Lucy. His sunglasses were tucked on the neckline of his shirt, his hair hanging loosely around his eyes. He reached for the cup to take it from his girlfriend. "Come on."
"No, no, no," she slurred, clutching her cup and holding it close to her chest. She gestured lazily to Lucy. "Steve, look, she's—you guys are.. you're matching!"
Steve's eyes finally landed on Lucy for the first time. His brow creased in confusion, eyes blinking in confusion and surprise. "L—Lucy? I didn't.. I didn't know you were coming ton—"
Her lips pressed together in a tight, reluctant smile. "Yep. Hey."
"You're dressed as.." His gaze traveled down her body, then back up to meet her eyes in a guarded emotion that Lucy couldn't decipher. His lip curled up in a half-smile and he let out an almost-chuckle. "Risky Business."
She looked down at her own costume, all of a sudden feeling incredibly embarrassed. She crossed her arms over her chest. "I—I should go—"
She went to brush past him, but he stepped in front of her and held out a hand to stop her. "No, wait, Luce—Lucy, I haven't talked to you in—"
"A year," she finished, not meeting his eyes. "Best year of my life, actually."
He scoffed a laugh. "You.. you look great. How have you been? Are you doing well?"
"Well enough," she said, burying her face in the rim of her solo cup and taking a long swig from the bitter beer inside. "Really, I should—Leo's probably waiting for me at home—"
"No, wait, hang on," Steve said, his brow creasing. "I just want to talk to you. To catch up."
"There's nothing to catch up on, Harrington." Her words were firm. She would not give in, no matter how much her mind was begging to break into a smile and laugh off the past year.
The bitter drink splashed around in her cup as she made to move past him. Steve called after her and reached for her hand, grabbing hold of the one not holding her cup and pulling her to a stop. She stumbled into him. Her beer sloshed over the rim of the cup and splashed onto her torso, staining her white button-up and seeping into her bare skin. She groaned, holding up her arms, looking down at the stain with contempt. She lifted her gaze to see Steve staring at the mess he made with wide eyes. He began to stammer out an apology, but Lucy cut him off sharply.
"God," she gasped, "what is wrong with you?"
His lips moved, searching for something to say to fix this. "Lucy, I'm so sorry—"
"Just leave me alone." Her voice was thick with the lump of humiliated tears stuck in her throat. Everyone's eyes were on the pair, waiting for what she was going to do in anxious anticipation. Lucy glanced around the room. Her gaze landed on Jonathan, standing in the corner and watching in frozen shock. Turning her attention back to Steve, she drew in a deep breath, then walked past him, making sure to bump hard into his side on her way.
His voice called after her as she shoved her way through the crowd. "Lucy, hang on a sec—"
She found an empty bathroom and pushed the door open, spilling into the threshold, slamming her now-empty cup on the counter and picking up the nearest washcloth to begin dabbing at her shirt. The door flew open and in burst—take a guess—Steve fucking Harrington. Lucy moaned, her head rolling back in annoyance.
"God, Steve, how many times do I have to tell you to—"
"Just let me help you dry off," he said, reaching for the rag from her hand.
Suddenly aware that her white shirt was now wet and very see-through, she crossed her arms tightly over her chest and shook her head, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Just leave me the hell alone."
He held up his hands in surrender, eyes searching her face sadly. "Lucy, I just want—I don't like not having you in my life. This has been a shitty year without you, okay?"
Her face contorted in incredulity. "A shitty year? Gee, Steve, you could've fooled me. How long have you been dating Wheeler out there? What, eleven months? Compared to the twelve months since we broke up—"
"Jesus, you've changed," Steve said, dropping his hands to his side. "The Lucy I know would never—"
"Would never what, Steve?" she demanded, her chest heaving. "Would never go to a party? Would never stand up for herself? Would never break up with you? It seems to me like you maybe—just maybe—don't know me at all. I've been completely fine without you. You've been back in my life for five minutes and already spilled beer on me, embarrassed me in front of everyone here, and ruined my entire night. And you won't listen when I tell you to just leave me the hell alone!"
Steve took a step back, eyes shiny and dull. "Look, I just... I just miss you, is all."
Lucy drew in a deep breath, cheeks burning, scowling at him. "Yeah, well, you'll just have to keep missing me, because I never want to see you again." She pushed past him, opening the door to the bathroom and taking a step out. "And I mean it."
She shut the door on him before he could follow.