Chapter Text
Jonathan easily spotted Mike in the crowd exiting the gate. Mike had shot up like a beanstalk since Jonathan last saw him, with Mike now towering over a crowd. Jonathan quickly scanned the crowd behind Mike, looking for the familiar face of Jonathan’s girlfriend, even though he knew Nancy wasn’t coming. A part of Jonathan actually thought that Nancy would surprise him and be on the flight, but she didn’t. Jonathan pushed down his growing sense of disappointment and foreboding. He was happy Nancy was excelling and thriving back home, even if it was without him. But it was hard when Jonathan felt so lost. He hadn’t taken pictures in months, and it did not help that Jonathan hated California. The weather was always warm and sunny. There was never any variation or change. It was like living the same day over and over again.
The only one who seemed to be doing well in California was his mom. However, Jonathan was just waiting for the inevitable shoe to drop, and he would be forced to pick up things for his family, like he always had to do.
Will and El, like him, wanted to be back in Hawkins, even with all the trauma and horror they experienced there, because they would be with their friends and loved ones. All Jonathan wanted was to have Nancy with him, and admittedly, he thought all they had to do was make it through a year apart, and then the world would be theirs for the taking. Then reality hit. Nancy got early acceptance to Emerson—her dream school—that was even farther away from him, since he would likely be stuck in California for the foreseeable future because his family needed him. Jonathan knew that Nancy would give up her dreams in a moment to be with him, but he was not that type of guy. He would never want her to sacrifice her future or dreams for him. She deserved everything she wanted and more.
While they had initially and, admittedly, naïvely thought that they could handle the distance, the past six months have been the hardest on their relationship, and they survived the Upside Down and all the trauma associated with it. The pit in his stomach continued to grow as his thoughts kept coming back to the same conclusion he reached right before Christmas, the only way he could make sure that Nancy got all she wanted was for him to let her go. However, after all the years of wanting Nancy from afar and then her actually wanting to be with him, he selfishly didn’t have the strength to break up with her. Jonathan knew that out of the two of them, only Nancy would be strong enough to end things.
Just because he knew things needed to end, it didn’t mean he was in any hurry for them to actually end, which is why, as much as it pained him not to see Nancy for Christmas, it was the only way to keep her. It hurt when he heard Nancy’s soft “oh” when Jonathan stuttered out, he could not come, and when he heard her try to play down how hurt she was by him staying in California. The next thing he knew, Nancy started calling less, and when they actually spoke, the calls were shorter and more stilted.
Jonathan had been dreading Nancy coming for Spring Break because he did not know how much longer he could put her off about Emerson and avoid their breakup. When Nancy informed him, she was not coming for Spring Break, an intense sense of relief flooded him, which just made him feel guilty for being happy his girlfriend was not coming. When he told Argyle about everything, Argyle just gave Jonathan some Purple Palm Tree Delight, and it helped . . . for a bit.
Jonathan tuned back into the conversation El, Will, Mike, and Argyle were having, only to catch his only friend in California tell Jonathan’s girlfriend’s little brother, “I heard a lot about your sister.”
Mike shot Jonathan an alarmed look. There were certain categories of things the two of them never discussed nor wanted to discuss, and Argyle’s comment was dangerously encroaching into one of the categories.
Jonathan looked away because he was not high enough for that particular conversation. “Ah . . . Um. . . We should go- ” The words died on his lips as he caught sight of Nancy standing there looking right back at him.
Nancy had been staring at the group for a few moments, hesitant to make her presence known. What was she supposed to say, “Surprise? I’m here.” She should be back in Hawkins, and Jonathan should be the one visiting her since he did not come home for Christmas. Then, three weeks before Spring Break, during one of their ridiculously short calls on a random weeknight, he backed out, mumbling some vague, Jonathan reason why he couldn’t come when she started making plans for them during break. Nancy had not been that surprised when he did it. Since Christmas, Nancy had been feeling Jonathan pulling away from her, not sure if it was the 2,000 miles separating them or the more terrifying thought, Jonathan had met someone else.
Everyone then just assumed that Nancy should be the one going to see him even though she was busy single-handedly running the school newspaper, since none of the other students were up to her standards. Yes, Nancy could make it work and visit her boyfriend, but it was the principle of the matter. Maybe she had been a bit petty by refusing to visit him for break, but it hurt that he could not be bothered to visit her. Not that she ever told him that. Nancy knows Jonathan is fiercely protective of his family and takes his family responsibilities seriously. Those are some of the reasons she loves him so much. But coming in second place to his family again and again is hard to accept, because she never came in second place her whole life, only first. She didn’t need to always be Jonathan’s first priority, but at least most of the time, seemed more than reasonable. Nancy hoped it would be different when they are at Emerson together next year, away from old responsibilities.
Last night, Nancy had a lot of time to think about everything with Jonathan, thanks to a returned recurring nightmare of seeing Barb killed. Nancy could feel that something was going on with Jonathan, even though they were thousands of miles apart. She wanted answers. The only way she would be able to get the answers from Jonathan was to pry them out of him in person. On one hand, she wasn’t sure she was ready for what she could learn. There was safety in what they had, even if it was a bit dysfunctional, not that she would admit that to anyone. On the other hand, by not going, she would just be retreating, and Nancy Wheeler does not retreat. So, at 3:43 a.m., she packed her bags for California, called Fred to tell him he was in charge of the paper and that she would disembowel him if he ruined her paper, and braced herself for her father’s comments about her last-minute decision to go.
Nancy had questioned her decision to come to Lenora Hills so many times on their drive to the airport, on the flight, and even as she stood at the airport, watching the stunned look on her boyfriend’s face.
Jonathan believed for a moment that he must have smoked too much weed this morning because he was hallucinating that his girlfriend was standing in front of him. When Jonathan saw Nancy give him an awkward wave, he started to make his way towards her. All he knew was that if this turned out to only be a trip, he was having the best trip ever and would need some more of that Purple Palm Tree delight from Argyle.
They meet each other halfway and stand there for a moment, taking each other in and the differences from the last time they saw each other.
“Hi.” Whispered Nancy.
Jonathan reached out to interlace their fingers. He needed to verify that Nancy was real and not a figment of his mind. Jonathan rested his forehead against Nancy’s and asked, “Are you really here?”
A small smile crossed Nancy’s face as she continued to whisper softly. “Yes.”
“I missed you.” Admitted Jonathan.
In that moment, Nancy knew she was exactly where she should be. It felt like home. All her doubts and fears quieted. “I missed you too.”
Simultaneously, they leaned in for a soft and gentle kiss, but before either of them could deepen it, they were interrupted by a male voice. “This is so rad!”
They pulled away, as Argyle joined them, but Jonathan kept holding tight to Nancy’s left hand, needing to remind himself that she was real.
Nancy looked over to see that the voice was coming from the guy who had been speaking with Jonathan, Will, El, and Mike. The guy reached down to hug her as he said, “Welcome, Jonathan’s lady.” Nancy shot Jonathan a look of “who the hell is this guy?” as the stranger hugged her.
“This is Argyle,” Jonathan explained.
Nancy flipped through her Rolodex of information, recalling that Argyle was Jonathan’s friend-- his only friend in Lenora Hills, from what Nancy could tell from reading between the lines of what Jonathan told her.
“He is giving us a ride because my car broke down last week,” continued Jonathan.
“Hi.” Nancy told Argyle as she plastered on a polite smile, when it hit her that Jonathan had not told her about his car breaking down, which should have been something he should have told her. She knew how much that car meant to him.
Argyle patted Jonathan’s shoulder and proudly informed Nancy, “Don’t worry. My man here has been a good boy despite the many many offers.”
Nancy’s smile faltered at the comment. “Many?” She looked at Jonathan, who avoided her gaze. Her unease returned. Apparently, the general female population in Lenora Hills, California, had better taste than Hawkins, Indiana.
Jonathan did not know what to say to Argyle’s comment. “Um. . . Let’s get your bags,” and Jonathan pulled Nancy towards their siblings.
Behind them, Argyle added, “Yeah, this is super awkward, man.”
- - -
The van ride had been interesting to say the very least for Nancy, and not just because of the odd smell. Argyle did not stop speaking the entire time until he dropped them off at the Byers’ home. Apparently, Jonathan was supposed to work at something called Surfer Boy’s Pizza, a job Nancy did not even know about, but Argyle would cover for him. Nancy could not help but notice that Jonathan looked uncomfortable and kept his window rolled down, shooting glances back at Nancy. Nancy’s journalistic instinct kept screaming at her that if she didn’t know all of this about Jonathan, what else did Jonathan fail to tell her?
Jonathan was relieved when Argyle dropped them off. His fear of what might slip out of Argyle’s mouth—specifically the Emerson situation—made the ride feel like the longest in his life. Jonathan wasn’t sure how he could keep Nancy off the topic.
His mom’s car was not in the driveway when they got back, which was odd, since she should be working. As Jonathan opened the door, he yelled out, just in case, “Mom, we're home.” There was no response. Nancy and the rest of the group entered the house behind him. Turning to the group, but more specifically, Nancy, “That’s odd. She must be out.”
El quickly moved around Jonathan, Nancy’s bags, and Nancy, pulling Mike upstairs to see her room. Jonathan caught a look he could not quite place on his brother, as Will sulked up the stairs behind El and Mike.
Nancy took in the house, which was much larger and nicer than she anticipated, especially considering what the Byers’ home was like back in Hawkins. Not that she had much to go on to imagine what the Byers’ new home would be like in Lenora Hills. The only thing Jonathan told her about his new home was that he had his own room.
Nancy and Jonathan stood awkwardly in the entrance way for a moment as they were alone for the first time since Jonathan moved. Neither quite knowing what to say to the other, despite knowing each other better than anyone else, but these months apart made each question how much they knew each other, and how to bridge that chasm that grew.
Jonathan broke the silence. “I’ll just . . . um . . . put your bag in my room?” He asked hesitantly, not sure if she wanted to stay in his room. Maybe it was too presumptuous of him, but before he left, they spent every night together.
Jonathan wasn’t sure what condition he left his room in when they left this morning, but he was pretty sure it was a mess. Jonathan rushed down the stairs to his room, as quickly as he could, carrying Nancy’s heavy bags. It was as much of a disaster as he remembered, and Jonathan needed to get it cleaned up before Nancy saw it. The room still reeked of pot despite his earlier efforts this morning. He quickly dropped Nancy’s bags on the ground and rushed to fully open his window, and returned to his tried-and-true method of airing out his room with a magazine. Only to be distracted by his dirty clothes and random papers on the ground, he dropped the magazine and frantically started picking them up. When he looked up, he spotted Nancy, in her sundress, leaning against the door jam, an amused look on her face as she watched him panic about the state of his room.
“Um. . . . I didn’t know you were coming, or I would have cleaned up.” He threw the pile of clothes and random papers into his closet.
“I see.” Nancy smiled back at him. She hadn’t seen him this nervous about having her in his room since the first time she stepped into his room back in Hawkins.
Jonathan stood there. Frozen in his spot in front of his stereo system, as he watched her walk into his sanctuary.
As Nancy crossed the threshold, she took it all in. It had the same odd smell as Argyle’s van. The room looked familiar but different at the same time. Familiar in the sense that much of the same furniture, bedding, and posters that she knew from Hawkins were the same, but the furniture layout was different and there were new posters, pictures, and items. Nancy moved over to his dresser that was also serving as a side table, taking note of the random items. She picked up the only framed picture, which was of them. She looked over at Jonathan, watching her intently. She tenderly smiled at him and put the frame down. Nancy walked over towards his desk area, her eyes focused on the bulletin board. Her hand traced along the desk edge. Nancy saw little reminders of her everywhere, she loved that.
As Nancy picked up a book lying on Jonathan’s desk, it revealed a bag of weed underneath. While Nancy had never actually seen pot, there was no other possible explanation for what it was, or what that odd smell had been. Nancy frowned. The Jonathan she knew was not a pothead. The only people in Hawkins who smoked weed, as far as she knew, were people like Eddie Munson, from her brother’s hellfire club, who had repeated 12th grade so many times she wasn’t sure anyone knew what year he was actually supposed to have originally graduated in. Jonathan had to keep his grades up and graduate so that Emerson could happen for them. Nancy turned towards Jonathan and held up the bag. “Is this what keeps you busy?”
Jonathan could feel disapproval radiating off her. He approached her, slowly and cautiously. He gently took the bag from her hand and set it back down on his desk.
Nancy raised an eyebrow at him, expecting an answer and explanation.
Jonathan looked down at his Vans, before explaining, “It helps with . . . things.” ‘Things’ being his anger. He has so much pent-up anger that he feels like he could explode at any second. Anger at his mom for moving them when he had a life, and more importantly, Nancy, back in Hawkins. Anger at his mom for not being able to pull her shit together for years. Anger that he had to step up and be the man of the house at such a young age. Anger at being poor. Anger at his parents for all the bullshit they put him through. Anger at his mother for not protecting him from his father. Anger at his father for all the fucked-up things he did to his family. Anger that he lost his childhood and teen years to parent his brother and mother. Anger at what happened to Will. Anger at always having to put his family first. Anger that his mother could pull her crap together for his brother but not for Jonathan. Anger at his mom for never putting his needs and wants first, but her being able to do it for Will and even El, who is not even her child. Anger that he was going to lose the girl he loved. Anger at having to start his life all over during his Senior year, when he should be enjoying it with Nancy. Anger that he was going to have to stay in Lenora Hills, when all he wanted to do was leave. Anger at not being able to voice how he feels without hurting those he loves. Anger at Nancy for telling him about their plans for the future without asking him what he wants. Anger at the bitterness and resentment he feels for those he loves. Anger at pretending that everything is okay. Anger at the helplessness of his situation.
It terrifies Jonathan, but each day he feels like he is turning more into his father. Jonathan is trying his best to hold his shit together and not become that monster, but it is getting harder each day. The weed helps Jonathan forget everything in his life and tempers down his anger for a while.
Nancy’s face softens at Jonathan’s confession, thinking, Jonathan was having nightmares too. “I sleep in your shirt. . . to keep the nightmares away,” admitted Nancy.
Jonathan glanced up, “Does it work?”
“Not so much, but my grades and extracurriculars have never been so good.” Nancy tried to make her answer sound flippant, but it falls flat.
Jonathan reached up and cupped Nancy’s face with his hands. He took a moment to really look at her. Jonathan could see her deep, dark circles, hidden under Nancy’s make-up, and her haunted eyes, which reminded him of what Nancy was like after Barb died, when she tried to pretend everything was fine. He thought that Nancy had been doing so well in Hawkins while he was stuck in California, but it was written across her face that she was not. Jonathan hated that he was so far away from Nancy, guilt gnawing at him, “I am so sorry I am not there.”
“It will be different next year.” Whispered Nancy.
Guilt flooded Jonathan because it was not going to be different next year. “Right” is the only answer he can give, and Jonathan provides it automatically. He gently released Nancy’s face and stepped back from her, trying to put some physical distance between them. He needed to get her off this dangerous line of discussion. Jonathan tucked his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his feet. “So, what do you want to do?”
Nancy cocked her head to the side, and her eyes darted to the bed. Jonathan’s eyes followed Nancy’s line of sight. She coyly smiled up at him; mischief reflected in her big blue eyes. Nancy leaned up on her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him close to her. Nancy mumbled against his lips. “There is something I have really missed.”
Jonathan grinned against Nancy’s lips, wrapped his hands around her waist, and pulled her as close as possible against him and into a searing kiss, losing himself in her.
- - -
The warm breeze fluttered through the large window in El’s room as she proudly showed Mike around her room.
Will was frustrated that El was hogging Mike and that Mike, his best friend, would rather focus on El than hang out with him, when they started hearing sounds. At first, the sounds were low and more spaced out, but they started getting louder and closer in time.
Will and Mike shot each other alarmed looks as it dawned on them who was making the sounds and what those particular sounds meant.
Mike interrupted El’s tour with, “We need to leave. Now.” He needed to get as far away from those sounds as possible before he was even more scarred.
“But I still have more to show you,” replied El. She was not even half-way through her detailed tour.
“We can go to Rink-O-Mania,” suggested Will as he tried to entice an oblivious El to leave. It wasn’t too much of a walk from their house. Will did not want to stay in the house and hear the sounds from his brother and his girlfriend.
El perked up at the mention of the roller rink.
They grabbed their things and made their way down the stairs. The closer they got to the source of the noise, the louder it got, and the words were suddenly clear.
“Is that Nancy . . . and Jonathan?” Asked El, as if she were trying to solve a puzzle.
“Let’s go.” Mike tried to motion El towards the door and out of the house, which was going to cause him severe emotional trauma.
El paused at the base of the stairs and looked at the guys. She asked, “Is that what Max meant about good screams?”
Mike grabbed El’s hand and pulled her out the front door, with Will on their heels.
- - -
Nancy blinked awake to the afternoon sunlight streaming in the open window. It was odd waking up to the light, not in a cold sweat due to a nightmare. She hadn’t had nightmare-free sleep in months. Nancy could feel Jonathan's fingers tracing up and down her bare back and his steady raising and lowering of his chest under her head. Their legs were tangled together. She missed being this close to him. Both of their defenses always seemed to be down when they were like this, making hard conversations easier, like after they got together in the bunker. As reluctant as Nancy was, it was time to start prying answers from Jonathan and breach the distance between them. She steeled herself and went first. Nancy confessed against Jonathan’s chest. “I’ve been jealous.”
“What?” Jonathan’s fingers stopped tracing up and down Nancy’s back. Of all the things Nancy could have admitted to Jonathan, he would never have anticipated that statement. He repeated her words aloud, like he was trying to comprehend the words in relation to Nancy. “You were jealous?” He could not compute Nancy being jealous. He felt Nancy nod her head ‘yes’ against his chest. “Jealous of what?” Jonathan probed.
Nancy mumbled out, “I thought that you met someone . . . since you know things have been . . . different.” Nancy felt Jonathan stiffen under her.
“Oh.” And then Jonathan said nothing for the longest time.
That was not the answer she expected from Jonathan. Nancy could not help but think that there was a tone to his “Oh”, something along the lines of disappointment, or was it guilt? She hated feeling this insecure and vulnerable.
Jonathan racked his brain trying to think of what he could have done that made Nancy think that. He hated how his dad treated his mom, with the other women, and he never wanted to make Nancy believe that he would cheat on her. He cautiously and deliberately asked, “Did I do something that made you think that I would or I -”
“No!” Nancy quickly cut Jonathan off when she realized he was blaming himself for her own insecurities. She turned to look up at him, making eye contact. “No. I...” Nancy paused, trying to put into words what she was feeling, but she could not find the words without admitting she needed Jonathan too much. Nancy had been having a sinking suspicion that her greatest fear was losing Jonathan, and it terrified her. She just couldn’t voice it.
Jonathan let out a deep sigh. “Nancy, it’s always been you for me, unlike-” he bit back his next words, wanting to avoid a fight that they have had more than once before.
“Unlike what?” She demanded in a steely voice.
Jonathan shot Nancy an exasperated look when Nancy should have known exactly what he left unsaid. “Come on Nancy, Steve?”
Nancy pursed her lips in confusion, “What does Steve have to do with this?”
Jonathan rolled his eyes and looked away, refusing to meet Nancy’s eyes. Even after all this time, Steve was a sensitive subject for Jonathan. Some wounds ran deep and took a long time to heal. It had hurt him a lot when Nancy ran back to Steve after everything that had happened between her and him when they were searching for Will and Barb. Jonathan really had thought that something was going to happen with Nancy and him after everything was stable with his brother, but in less than a month after what they went through, Nancy returned to King Steve, as if nothing had happened. He knows in the end that she chose him, Jonathan Byers. However, it's hard when nearly all of Hawkins seems to still believe that Nancy is going to return to Steve and that he, Jonathan, is just something for her to get out of her system before she settles down with the ‘right guy’, a.k.a. Steve Harrington. While everyone is right that Nancy deserves better than him, he just wished “better” wasn’t Steve, the guy he had to hear Nancy tell “I love you” to for months and pretend that he did not care.
It was Nancy’s turn to let out an exasperated sigh. Nancy was sick of Steve being continuously brought into their relationship. Steve and her ended things so long ago. Nancy had picked Jonathan, and, yes, she wished she had made the decision earlier, but Nancy didn’t know there was an option for her. She placed her left hand on Jonathan’s right cheek to gently turn his face so that they were face-to-face again. Looking straight into Jonathan’s eyes, she matter-of-factly told him, “If you had just said something, I would have chosen you.” Nancy could still see uncertainty in Jonathan’s eyes and pressed on. “I will always choose you. No matter what.”
Nancy leaned forward to place a tender kiss on Jonathan’s lips that quickly turned into something more passionate.
Jonathan poured everything into their kiss that he could not voice. It turned desperate quickly. Nancy’s words just reinforced what Jonathan already knew: that Nancy would choose him all the way to a crap school. He couldn’t let her do that. She deserved everything she wants and more. Jonathan wrapped his arms around her and rolled her under him. He was going to have to store up memories like this to replay in his head when she is no longer his.
- - -
Nancy and Jonathan did not emerge from his room until it was dark out. After six months apart, coming together for the first time was hot, fast, and focused on a single, mutual goal: release. The second time, they took their time reacquainting themselves with each other’s bodies, savoring being together again. Their hands were still intertwined as they climbed up the stairs to the kitchen. They were so lost in each other; they were unaware of their surroundings.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the lovebirds!” Comes from the direction of the kitchen.
Jonathan and Nancy dropped each other’s hand when they heard a voice they were not expecting. They looked back at the source of the voice, then to each other, and then back to the voice, before Jonathan and Nancy, in unison, said, “Murray?”
Nancy opened her mouth to ask what the conspiracy theorist was doing there when Joyce Byers entered the kitchen.
Joyce immediately rushed over to Nancy and pulled her into a warm hug. “Nancy. Welcome! I am so glad that you came after all.”
“Hi, Ms. Byers. I am sorry for the last-minute change of plans.”
“Don’t you worry about that.” Joyce motioned to Jonathan and lowered her voice slightly, “You have made this one’s year by coming. He has been so mopey without you.”
Jonathan reddened.
Nancy just smiled. It's nice knowing others could tell that he missed her. “Can I use your phone? I need to let my mom know we got here safely.”
“Sure, there is one just around the corner,” directed Joyce.
Jonathan watched his girlfriend leave before he returned his gaze to Murray, who had made himself comfortable in their kitchen and was even wearing an apron that Jonathan didn’t know they even had. Jonathan couldn’t decide if Murray in an apron or his mother acting like it was the most normal thing in the world was the weirdest thing. Before Jonathan could ask what was happening. His mother asked, “Where are Mike and your siblings?”
Confused, Jonathan answered before he thought it through. “They're not here?”
Joyce’s eyes narrowed. “No... Don’t you know where they are?”
Jonathan felt suddenly transported back to his sophomore year when Will went missing. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but he was saved when the three entered the house, looking like someone had just killed a puppy in front of them.
Joyce took one look at the group and El’s stained dress before, she asked kindly, “El, hon, what happened?” Before El broke into tears and ran upstairs.
- - -
Nancy quickly dialed her home number. After three rings, she looked down at her watch. It would only be a little after 9:00 p.m. Someone should be home. Finally, a familiar, but breathless, voice came on the line. “Hello?”
“Mom?” Asked Nancy.
“Nancy? Is that you?” Nancy could hear water running in the background on her mother’s line. Her mom must be getting ready for bed.
“Yeah.” Nancy quickly replied.
“I was worried. I’ve been waiting for you to call.” Karen Wheeler gently reprimanded her daughter.
“Sorry, we’ve been busy.” Nancy knew she was supposed to call when they arrived, but she got . . . distracted.
“How was the flight?” Karen poured herself another glass of wine after the day she had, while she tried to extract details about her teen daughter’s day.
“The flight was fine.” Nancy played with the tangled phone cord.
“So, what have you all been doing?” Nancy thought her mother’s speech had a bit of a slur in it. “Just taking in the sights.” Jonathan’s room was technically a sight.
Karen took another sip of wine. “Well, I am so glad that you and Mike are there after what happened here.”
Nancy’s stomach dropped at her mother’s words, and fear flooded her body. “What happened in Hawkins?”
Her mom lowered her voice like she didn’t want someone at home to hear her, likely Holly. “A girl from Hawkins High was murdered.”
“What? Who... who is it?” The school was small enough that Nancy would know the girl.
“They haven’t released a name yet, or how she was killed.” Karen sadly told Nancy.
The line went silent. Nancy was running through the names of the girls in the school that she knew, wondering which one it was.
Karen took another sip of wine and turned off the water to her bath. “Sweetie, are you okay? I know this may bring up some memories for you.”
Nancy could hear the concern in her mother's voice. “No. I’m fine.” Nancy was not fine. She needed to know what caused the girl’s death. Nancy kept trying to tell herself that it couldn’t be connected with the lab, since her and Jonathan got the lab closed down. It didn’t help that the girl's death would be the biggest story of the year, and Nancy is stuck in California, all because she needed to see her boyfriend. Nancy just needed to figure out a way to crack the story from 2,000 miles away. What she needs are boots on the ground. “I have to go Mom. Dinner.”
“Ok, love-” Karen started to say, but before she could say ‘you,’ the line went dead.
Nancy held down the receiver and started dialing the number of her Managing Editor, Fred Benson.
- - -
Nancy took another bite of Risotto as she was trying to figure out what her next step should be for the investigation back in Hawkins. She had given Fred explicit and detailed instructions on what to do and to report back to her tomorrow morning. Fred, of course, had made snide comments about how he put the paper before his personal relationships, even though it was Fred who had encouraged her to see her boyfriend. Nancy hated having to rely on Fred, but there was nothing she could do unless she flew back early to Hawkins, and she knew her parents wouldn’t allow it. It was bad enough she decided to fly to California at the last minute, but going home early... that was not an option.
“What did you get up to this afternoon?” Joyce asked Jonathan and Nancy.
Mike chimed in, adding annoyingly in only a way a younger brother can, “Yah, what did you guys do?”
Jonathan and Nancy gave each other looks, trying to silently communicate with each other.
“We-” started Jonathan.
Nancy plastered on a polite smile and answered for the two of them. “We looked at Jonathan’s photos.”
Will, who had been sulking in his chair, perked up and happily asked Jonathan, “You’re taking photos again?”
“Again?” Nancy glanced over at Jonathan, who appeared focused too intently on his plate, avoiding her gaze. Will’s comment could only mean, one thing that Jonathan had stopped taking photos, but that did not make any sense to Nancy. Jonathan loved photography. He was going to be majoring in it at Emerson. Nancy kept her smile on her face, but it slipped for a moment as she was again confronted by the fact that she didn’t know what was going on in her boyfriend’s life. A sense of unease filled her.
“Um. Yeah.” Mumbles Jonathan.
Murray chimed in with, “Long distance is hard. I hear from your mom that you both are going to Emerson.”
It was Nancy who perked up this time, thinking that must be what Jonathan was hiding, he wanted to surprise her with the news that he got into Emerson. She turned to Jonathan smiling widely, “Did you get your letter yet?”
“Um. Not yet.” Jonathan again refused to look at Nancy. Instead, he focused on shoveling food into his mouth so he could not talk.
Nancy’s smile faltered. She could feel waves of discomfort rolling off Jonathan.
Joyce, sensing the tension, tried to lighten the mood, “The mailman said they always come at the end of the week. . . That reminds me. I almost forgot about my business trip.”
“Business trip?” Exclaimed Will.
Jonathan looked up from his plate as his mom started explaining that she is leaving tomorrow for Alaska because Encyclopedia Britannica is based in Alaska. Her explanation was not believable in the slightest. The teens shoot each other looks of skepticism. Jonathan looked between his mom and Murray, who seemed to be supporting the cock-and-bull story his mother was telling. Jonathan thought back to his mom’s and Murray’s earlier exchange about how sweet each of them was and how Murray was a keeper, when a deeply unpleasant thought occurred to Jonathan. The moment Murray and Jonathan’s mom went to grab dessert, Jonathan leaned over the table and voiced it to the group. “Do you think that Mom and Murray are together?
“Ew . . . no.” Will quickly responded.
“Well. . .” Nancy looked into the kitchen and saw Ms. Byers and Murray interacting animatedly. They have been acting odd. “Maybe?”
“I mean, it's not the weirdest thing to happen.” Chimed in Mike.
“No. . . no.” Will shook his head. “And Alaska is a romantic getaway?”
“It’s Murray,” Jonathan added, as if that explained everything.
“Who knows if they are actually even going there.” Added Nancy, who was well seasoned at lying about her whereabouts. “It could just be a cover-story for whatever couplely thing they actually have planned.”
“Should we ask them?” Asked a hesitant El.
“Do we really want to know the truth?” Jonathan pointedly questioned. His mother really had the worst taste in men, and the less he knew the better.
Murray returned to the table and proudly laid down his Bubbie’s apple strudel on the dining table. However, he quickly observed that none of the teens would make eye contact with him. “Ok, I . . . uh, I sense tension. Is it the risotto? Everyone hates the risotto.”