The year was 1985. And more specifically, it was Christmas, 1985. Apparently the "Most wonderful time of the year." But when you and your friends were fighting for your lives against unknown creatures, you cherished every moment you could.
Christmas time in Hawkins meant the annual Snowball. A cheesy Christmas dance for middle schoolers to attend at the end of the semester. You weren't too keen on middle school dances, or any dances at all, because you were probably the most shy person in the world.
You struggled to raise your hand in class when you were confident in your answer, you hated asking for extra ketchup at restaurants, and you don't even think about batting an eye when they get your order wrong. You'd rather eat it than speak up.
And although you had a pretty tight bond with your group of friends, talking to them individually was not your strong suit. You preferred to stay in the background, just going along with whatever they say, not suggesting otherwise in case an argument started, and heaven forbid you were the reason for that argument.
But when your mom was dead set on you attending the dance, all you did was argue with her. You plead and begged for her not to make you go, but her word was final, of course, as a mother's usually is.
So, an hour before the dance you found yourself in your mother's bathroom with uncomfortably tight curls in your hair, blue eyeshadow, it wouldn't be the 80s if you didn't have blue eyeshadow, and pink lipstick. You thought you looked like a clown but your mom insisted you looked beautiful.
She made you wear her old prom dress from the late late 60s which was wedding gown white with puffy sleeves and the length was to your ankles. You sighed as she fussed over your outfit, shoving heals into your hands and demanding you put them on.
"Mom, cmon, it's not that big of a deal! It's just a middle school dance, not my wedding." You reminded her and she waved you off with a huff. "Well, one day it WILL be your wedding, and besides, there's no reason to not go all out." She shot back and you shook your head. "Let me remind you I don't even know how to walk in heels, so if I break my neck you're responsible."
She rolled her eyes and ignored your comment, watching you slip on the death traps anyway. She glanced at the clock and sucked in a breath. "Y/n we are going to be late, let's go!" Your mom grabbed your arm and drug you to the car all the while you tried not to fall and break both of your ankles.
Sometimes you wondered if your mom was just living her life through you. She had you right out of high school, forced to marry your father because he happened to be rich, so she missed out on college and a good career to take care of you. And sometimes you let her because you always felt bad about being born.
You sat in the car and stared out the window, thinking about all the things your mother could've been if she hadn't of had you. She told you she wanted to be a Doctor and work in the emergency room, saving lives one after another. But that would never happen with you here.
Once the two of you arrived at the school, you turned to her. "Pick me up in an hour okay? I don't want to stay that long and there's a horror movie marathon I don't want to miss!" You insisted, sure it was December, but Halloween had your heart all year round.
She nodded her head, "Okay, okay! I'll be here I promise." She shooed you out of the car and you stumbled onto the pavement, making your way to the gym that the dance was being held in. Upon entering you immediately found sanctuary at the bleachers with the rest of the introverted kids who were probably forced to come by their parents.
Tapping your toes to the beat of the song playing over the speakers, you glanced around the gym at all the dancing couples. Your eyes landed on a certain Dustin Henderson, the nerdiest kid from your little friend group. You didn't talk to him much because you really only hung out with Lucas, but saving Hawkins with him inevitably brought you closer.
You watched while he walked up to a group of girls you recognized to be the bitchy popular girls, presumably asking for a dance, and you figured out her answer when his face fell and his shoulders slumped.
That didn't surprise you, but what surprised you was the movement of your feet as they carried you over to him, the movement of your hand tapping his shoulder, and the movement of your lips asking him for a dance.
He smiled at you and nodded his head, taking your hand into his and leading you to the makeshift dance floor. You placed your hands on his shoulders, and his fell to a comfortable and appropriate position on your hips.
"Thank you, that was pretty embarrassing back there." He said, his cheeks still tinted an embarrassed pink from the whole interaction. You shook your head, "Don't worry about it, we're friends anyway," You reassured, "And I wouldn't want my friend to be rejected by some arrogant bitch." You shrugged nonchalantly.
His eyebrows raised immediately, he'd never heard you cuss before. In all honesty you surprised yourself as well. You were raised to never cuss, because ladies should never cuss. Or so your dad always said, but you heard your mother cursing at him plenty of times.
You blushed, "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that.." You were totally embarrassed, letting your anger get the best of you. But how could someone reject just one dance? It wouldn't hurt her and it certainly isn't hurting you right now. "No! no don't be embarrassed. I think you're badass." He said, obviously trying to make you feel better.
You let out a laugh and he smiled. "Can I have the next dance?" He asked and you nodded, maybe a little too eagerly. "Yeah, and the dance after that if you want. But my mom's picking me up in an hour." You admitted quite sadly. He nodded in understanding. "That's alright, we'll just have to hang out again?" He offered, hoping he wouldn't get rejected twice in one night.
You nodded. "Yeah, I'd like that." you told him and his face lit up. "That's great!" You smiled at his eagerness and rested your head on his shoulder as The Police began to play over the speakers.
As much as you'd hate to do it, you'd have to thank your mom for forcing you to go to this stupid middle school dance.
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got a little sad there?? also the ending was rushed don't come for me i'm doped up on nyquil as we speak 😪
YOU ARE READING
Gaten Matarazzo and Dustin Henderson imagines
Fanfiction" I need my paddles!" "Sorry, you ate my cat"
