Royal Pain || Stranger Things

six || secrets

At eight thirty on the dot, the heavy knocker on the Rivers' front door sounded.

     Parked in the living room with a book in hand and Walkman headphones set only over one ear, Tatum perked up. "Dad!" Marking her page and discarding the sound of David Bowie's glorious voice, she hopped up from the couch and answered the door.

     Steve held up a marked-up copy of his essay, smiling albeit defeatedly. "I hope it's not too late."

     "Not at all," Tatum replied, nodding for him to come in. "Dad knows the stakes and Elena is around for backup if needed."

     "I feel bad for not have reading his books, but it's pretty cool to have an award-winning author look over my college essay." Steve paused. "Or embarrassing. Probably embarrassing."

     "He'll go easy on you," she assured, patting him on the back as she guided him down the hall.

     Steve glanced over his shoulder before lowering his voice. "Hey, where were you during sixth period? Nance said you weren't in class."

     "The post office was packed." She knocked on the cracked library door, sliding it open to reveal her father already on the way to greet them.

     "Steve, good to see you," Jordan said, shaking his hand.

     The library was emptier than normal, corkboard still startling bare and nearly all of his files hidden away for a clean desk. Another chair had been pulled up, Jordan prepared for a mentoring session that he had been looking forward to all evening.

     "Oh, Tate, Nancy is outside," Steve told her as he sat down in the spare office chair.

     Tatum's brows furrowed. "She's here?"

     Leaving Jordan to fawn over improving any literary work, even a fairly poor college essay, Tatum headed outside and across the street where Steve's BMW was parked.

     Nancy startled in the passenger's seat as Tatum knocked, grudgingly opening the door. "Hey Tate."

     Tatum was quick to notice her red eyes, cheeks stained with tears. "Hey," she softly said, reaching out to take her arm. "What's wrong?"

     "Nothing," Nancy quickly replied, shaking her head. "I'm fine."

     "Nance, I have eyes. Let's go sit by the pool and you can tell me what's going on."

     "Not the pool."

     Tatum nodded, hiding her confusion the best she could. "Okay, that's fine, too. Do you want to sit on the porch?" Finally getting an agreeing response, she walked Nancy across the street and up to the swinging porch chair. "Is this about Barb?"

     The tears that had finally quelled had begun to flow.

     And that's my answer, Tatum thought, putting a comforting arm around her shoulder. "What happened?"

     "I don't...oh, God, Tatum. I can't talk to you about this," Nancy covered her face, leaning over.

     "What do you mean?" she asked. "You can always talk to me."

     "Not about this." She sat back up, letting out a heavy sigh. "Tell me about where you were during sixth period. Tell me anything to get my mind off of my life right now."

     "I went to the post office."

     "You can see the parking lot from Mr. Jeffries room, T," Nancy said, turning to her. "I know your bike was there and a certain someone's car wasn't."