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CHAPTER THREE.Trick or Treat, Freak OCTOBER 31. 1984
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JONATHAN BYERS WASN'T exactly happy to be at the party. He came for Nancy, because of course he did. He looked around, his eyes floating through every person, hoping to see the girl that he totally had a crush on. Don't worry, he'd never admit it out loud.
"Nice costume." Jonathan turned around, his eyes landing on Indigo Henderson.
There wasn't much history between the two of them. Knew each other through their brothers, one time Indigo and Dustin got stuck at the Byers house during a really bad storm, Indigo had to sleep on the couch, and Jonathan offered most of his blankets. It wasn't anything good or bad. They just knew each other.
The older Byers straightened his posture as he realized who she was. "Thanks," Jonathan said, "I'm going as the guy who hates parties." Indigo hummed, nodding slowly.
"I'm going as the girl who everyone thinks is too good for a party." She added. Jonathan chuckled, knowing exactly what she meant. On his was to the door, he heard two girls gossiping about why rich-famous-cool-too-good-Indigo would be at the party. To brag about how famous she was? It was annoying and stupid.
"Looks like we had similar ideas," Jonathan said.
Indigo smiled kindly, looking at the unopened drink in her hand, "Soda?" She asked. Jonathan nodded, taking it. Indigo leaned back, drinking her opened one.
Jonathan looked toward her. "No beers for you?"
Indigo looked down, shaking her head. "On that sobriety kick, ya know?" She informed. Jonathan hummed in acknowledgment and then nodded in understanding. "I came because Nancy invited me."
"Me, too," Jonathan muttered. The two of them looked around, their eyes floating around until they found Nancy dancing away in the crowd. "She's drunk."
"Hasn't stopped since she got here," Indigo added, shaking her head. "I don't get it, since when does goody-two-shoes Nancy Wheeler start drinking?" She questioned as she looked in his direction. Jonathan had no words. He had a few ideas of what could've sparked the change, of course. Including but not limited to; dead best friends, monsters, alternate dimensions, death, destruction, trauma, and even Steve Harrington.
Nancy Wheeler made her way back to the punchbowl. Steve was close behind. She was wasted. Way too wasted. She stumbled to the bowl, dipping her cup in. "No, no, no." Steve said softly.
"Get off,"
"No, you've had enough, okay?" Steve said, moving to tug her along. Maybe it was time she went home, he thought.
