Teenage romance is already difficult enough to navigate.
But when the one you love doesn't love you back? That's the worst pain of all.
STRANGER THINGS | NANCY WHEELER
seasons 1-2
┌─────── •✧• ───────┐ CHAPTER TWELVE the writing on the wall └─────── •✧• ───────┘
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( the monster, pt. iii )
+ content warning:racial slurs, homophobia
• °:.☆ . ₊°• ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
LAURA IS SURPRISED to see Nancy and Jonathan waiting for her when she clocks out of her shift. She almost misses them standing out front, leaning against the wall between the diner and the Payless ShoeSource next door. Expecting to find her dad's car parked in its usual spot, she frowns when she finds it empty.
"Laur!" Nancy calls, directing her attention to them.
Laura tugs her dad's trucker jacket closer to her. Her exposed legs make the wind feel like ice. "Oh, hey. What're you guys doing here?"
"Monster hunting."
Jonathan holds up several paper bags from the local hardware store instead of an explanation. He allows her to peer inside one of them, where she sees a collection of mallet-type hammers, animal traps, and lighter fluid. She can't even guess what the others contain from the jumbled mess inside this one.
She shivers, bouncing up and down in an attempt to ward off the chill that's making her feel more ice cube than human being. "Are you asking me to come along? Because I only have one uniform, and I'm not getting it covered in monster sludge."
Nancy eyes the goosebumps prevalent on Laura's bare legs and nods in understanding. "We can head back to your place first so you can change."
Laura gives her a grateful smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes, half because the frigid air is already making her cheeks feel numb, and partially because of how shitty her shift had been. Maybe whacking the shit out of a freakishly tall monster is exactly what she needs right now. Especially if she imagines that it wears Carol's face.
She'd feel better if she had her dad's rifle, but it's still in the Wheeler's garage, covered in muck. She has to remember to clean it and put the case back before he notices it's missing. Plus, it's not like Nancy and Jonathan aren't well-prepared; they'd clearly bought enough supplies for the apocalypse.
A car drives by, its horn blaring as it passes them. A boy calls out from the window, "Hey, Nance! Can't wait to see your movie!"
He cackles and speeds off. The trio watches it in confusion as it disappears around a corner, his words still lingering in the air, prickling the backs of their necks like phantoms.
"What the hell was that?" Jonathan asks.
"I don't know," Nancy replies, her brows pinched as she stares in the direction the car had come from. Her eyes search for a few moments before her face falls slack in realization.
