TECHNICOLOR - stranger things.

xiii. EPILOGUE

xiii. a decision, a watch, and a promise!

when wendy carmichael opened her eyes on july 17, 1985, she groaned. it was her birthday.

it had been nearly two weeks since billy hargrove's death, and wendy still hadn't gotten over her grieving process. she wasn't as upset about billy anymore, but she felt sympathy towards max mayfield and how devastated the young girl must've been.

during the first week, wendy was at the mayfield-hargrove house nearly every day just to check in on max. then, she realized that she was avoiding her own grief.

wendy wasn't up to doing much on her birthday, she had told her family that and they understood. lori carmichael had still baked wendy a birthday cake, the strawberry cake with vanilla frosting that she requested every year.

susie carmichael was the first to come to her sister's defense when their parents would criticize wendy spending most of her day in bed.
"she should be soaking up her last couple of days of summer!" richard objected, laying the newspaper down on the table.

"her ex-boyfriend died, dad. have some sympathy." susie scoffed, eating her bowl of cereal.

"she's right, rich. give her time. i think she's supposed to be spending the day with steve." lori placed the breakfast spread on the kitchen table.

steve harrington had been taking his space and giving wendy hers. some nights, she would call and ask for him to sneak over and sleep next to her—her night terrors were back and she didn't know how to combat them without steve and susie.

one night, they had been lying together, steve's fingers intertwined with hers. he had asked her about her college plans and where she was going to end up.
"i'll tell you on my birthday." she whispered to him.

he had spent days riddled with anxiety, because he knew that he couldn't do a long distance relationship with wendy. yet, he loved her too much to break up with her.

wendy carmichael entered the kitchen, sporting a shirt from nyu and and a pair of gym shorts. she had worn her hair in the same up-do for the past two days.

the carmichaels looked up at the birthday girl—richard and lori shared a glance before lori shook her head, she knew that her husband would say something insensitive.

"happy birthday honey. i can't believe you're already eighteen." lori initiated the birthday wishes, planting a kiss on her daughter's cheek.
"thank you mom." wendy's tone was cold, but she didn't mean for it to be.

wendy carmichael dealt with her trauma in ways that she wish she wouldn't—she was closed off, her words came out cold and edged like a sword. she wanted to hug and smile and be grateful that she was able to even reach eighteen years of age, but she couldn't.

"what time are you and steve hanging out?" susie asked, hoping to get through to her sister.

wendy walked over to the table, plucking a piece of bacon off of the plate in the center of the table. she shrugged her shoulders and glanced over at the clock on the wall.
"i think he said two. he won't tell me what we're doing though." she answered.

lori carmichael's eyes didn't leave her daughter once as she watched the eighteen year old girl eat the strip of bacon, take a short sip of orange juice, and turn to go back upstairs.