"Superficial love"

by Ruth B.


Nancy & Steve

Early October, 1984


It's been a while since she's last felt exactly like this, but something about the way Steve is talking today – the words he uses, the casual smiles he gives, the topics that come to his mind,- something about all of that makes Nancy want to break up with Steve.

Which is insane.

Steve is so sweet.

A real gentleman, really, although that might not have been Nancy's first impression of him, all these months ago.

He looks very good. Everyone says so, and Nancy obviously agrees.

Steve is the sort of guy that Nancy can see herself spend her entire life with.

Or, rather, he's the sort of guy that Nancy used to see her entire life with. Past tense. As in: She used to feel different about what she wants. She used to think someone like Steve is perfect for someone like her.

But things can change.

People can disappear.

Friendships can be born.

Lives can end.

"Hey, you okay?", Steve asks, smiling down at her. He seems slightly worried.

"What? Oh, sure, everything's fine." Nancy replies, smiling back. "Just lost in thought, I guess. I'm probably just tired."

"Yeah, I bet you are.", Steve agrees. "Who wouldn't be tired, after two hours of Millerson's science monologues? God, I'm so glad to be rid of that this year." He smirks, nudging her in the side. "Hey, did you ever fall asleep in his class, too? You can tell me, I probably won't even inform him!"

Nancy rolls her eyes, grinning. "Not everyone finds this stuff so terribly boring, you know?"

"Uh-huh, sure.", Steve nods. "That's what you're saying. But try telling that to the voice in your head."

He's faking a really deep, scratchy voice. "Nancy... You know that science is boring!", the voice murmurs, darkly. "You should probably skip last class and make out with Steve in his car instead!"

Nancy laughs. "You sound like Adam West.", she states, grinning at Steve.

He seems confused. "Who?"

"Batman?"

Steve eyes her awkwardly at this, a smile forming on his mouth. "Have you been spending too much time around your brother, or something?"

Nancy fumbles with the hair tie around her wrist. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, that voice totally sounds like that cat in the muesli bar ad!", he exclaimes, laughing. "Come on, Nancy, that one was obvious."

She grins, rolling her eyes and scoffing.

But she also thinks about that movie night at Jonathan's last week, when they both had to babysit and had decided to spend the afternoon and evening at the Byers' place together, with their brothers. Nancy hadn't mentioned to Jonathan that she technically wasn't being forced to babysit – Mike was 14, now, after all, and for him to spend an evening at home alone wasn't really a concern for their parents, at this point. Nancy's mom wasn't nearly as worried about stuff like this as Mrs. Byers could get, for obvious reasons.

But it had been fun, studying and watching old Batman-reruns with Jonathan.

Will and Mike were building some sort of film-themed weapons out of water pistols in his room – an addition to this year's weird Halloween costums – but Jonathan and Nancy had talked about his favourite bands and her favourite perfume flavour, and somewhere along the line Nancy had felt happy to an almost scary level. She doesn't hang out with Jonathan often, although she always tries to make him feel like he has a friend in her, and when it really comes down to it, Jonathan is kind of perfect to talk to.

Jonathan Byers is the sort of guy around whom it is tricky to feel anything but comfortable. He is funny, smart, modest and interesting. He knows what to say when Nancy's thoughts are running in a bad direction (which they are overly often, now that the nights are getting longer and darker, and now that the memories return.)

Somtimes, she wishes Jonathan had a girlfriend. Just so she can finally stop feeling like she feels about him, in her most confusing moments. If Jonathan was in a realtionship too, there'd be one more barrier between Nancy and her doubts about Steve. If Jonathan met someone, maybe Nancy could stop reflecting on the decisions she's made all these months ago. But Jonathan doesn't have a girlfriend, and Nancy's doubts remain firmly in her head.

The bell rings.

"Last chance, Nance.", Steve smiles, standing up with his tray in hand. "Geography? Or some extra time with your handsome boyfriend in an incredibly good-looking BMW 733i?"

Nancy glances at him, kindly.

"I think I have to choose Geography, just this once."

Steve shakes his head at her, exaggeratedly. "That's a shame, really. You could have learned a thing or two!"

She glares at him, amused, and Steve's mockery drops away for a second as he leans down and pecks her on the lips.

"Bye then. Love you."

And it's moments like this that freak Nancy out.

Not in the way that sleepless nights freak Nancy out, when Barb is suddenly back and clouding her dreams. And also not in the way Nancy feels freaked out when the occasional thoughts about Jonathan are consuming her head just a tiny, tiny bit too much, in order for them to be considered entirely friendly.

No, the way Nancy sometimes freaks out when she hears Steve say that he loves her is agonizing in different ways.

And it's also different than what Nancy feels when she notices Mike's problems, the way her little brother is facing his own demons and therefore freaking her out a bit, too.

(Sometimes when Nancy walks past his bedroom door at night, it sounds like Mike is crying in there, for example.

And perhaps she's imagining it, it's very quiet, after all. Or perhaps Mike really is crying. Maybe he's solely trying to dim the sound of his sadness down, hiding from the world under several thick blankets, like Nancy herself does, sometimes. A part of Nancy's terribly worried, because Mike used to be clever and kind and also enough of a jerk sometimes to be a believable example of a little brother, but not all that much more- and now Mike is disappearing into a zone of pure annoyance, more often than not. Maybe it's puberty. Maybe it's the sense of blemish and destruction and loss she also feels inside, when the nighmares and the guilt sweep over her.)

But when Steve says "I love you" to Nancy, that's a whole category of "Freaked out", on its own.

She often fears that she went too far. That she's going to hurt Steve, and that she won't be able to stop herself from it in time. Nancy fears that she made Steve (and herself) think that she was far more certain about everything, than she really is. Certain about them, about what they have, about what they build together over the past year.

There's this fear of disappointing one of the greatest people in her life, and it crunches her tummy like a steamroller once or twice per month – per week – per day...

November is quickly approaching. She wants to run away and forget everything she ever saw and did and said, sometimes.

Is this what Nancy's mom felt like, somewhere along the road? Is this what her Dad seemed like? Just about charming and interesting enough to give in to convenience and hope?

Steve isn't like that, though. Steve's got so much potential and...

It's insane to want to give Steve up.

It is.

"I love you, too.", She murmurs back, meeting his contented eyes before her boyfriend leaves the crowded cafeteria, along with dozens of other students.

Is this what it feels like to be normal?

Or is this what it really is supposed to feel like?

She doesn't know.


You're really cute,

I must admit.

But I need something deeper than this.

I wanna know when I'm looking at you

That you don't only see the things you want to.


Mr. and Mrs. Harrington are sort of obsessed with Nancy. That's what it has been like right from the start.

"Some more spagetthi, sweetie?" Steve's mom wants to know, spoon in hand. "Or some more cucumber salad?"

"No, I'm fine, thanks.", Nancy politely reassures her boyfreind's mom for what must be the fourth or fifth time. She gives her a smile. "It's delicious, though!"

"Look at how straight she's sitting, Steve!", his mother comments, sitting back down. "Now that's something they should consider teaching young people in PE. Some teenagers have the worst posture, if you ask me."

"You're right of course.", Mr. Harrington agrees, understatedly wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt, "It's really not looking good, most teenagers' posture."

"Did you ever consider becoming a teacher, Nancy? Or maybe a motivational speaker!", Mrs. Harrington beams. "Oh, to be young once more and have so many options, it must be great. And with your good posture and excellent marks, you might give someone a great role model!"

Steve laughs. "God, mom, stop it! You're embarrassing her!"

"I'm not!", his mother insists, smiling confusedly. "I'm just paying Nancy compliments, isn't that right, Nancy?"

"Sure, absolutely!", she willingly agrees, causing Steve to snort and meet her eye.

"Well, you two clearly still have a lot of time to figure all of that out.", Mr. Harrington concludes, wisely, while his wife makes her way over to the kitchen, starting to replace the used dinner plates with clean bowls for the dessert. "If Nancy is going to work or not, and what she could potentially do when the time comes, is up to Steve and her alone.", he says to Mrs. Harrington, looking happy with this outcome.

"What do you mean by that, Dad?", Steve frowns, scratching his neck. Nancy is starting to feel a little weird about where this is going, as well.

"All I'm saying is that many young women these days still see a... a certain appeal... in a more classical family model, don't they? Your mom is a stay-at-home mom too, isn't that right, Nancy?"

"Yes.", Nancy answers, sipping at her water. She's pretty unsure about how they even got into this conversation. She wishes they hadn't.

"Enough of all the grown-up-talk!", Rita Harrington laughs, putting a big bowl filled with strawberries and cherries on the table, close to where the vanilla ice cream is already waiting. "It's a little early for all of this, isn't it, Harald?"

Mr. Harrington just shrugs, loading huge amounts of the dessert in his bowl. "Well, next summer, Steve will be done with school, dear. It's about time to at least talk about things like this, I'd say."

"Dad!", Steve hisses, looking very annoyed and openly glaring at his father. Nancy feels a wave of sympathy for Steve rush over her, knowing that he hates the idea of his parents making her feel uncomfortable.

"Alright, alright, I'll stop!", Mr. Harrington capitulates, raising his hands in defeat.

To his son's girlfriend, he says. "Well, sorry Nancy. You know that I'm just trying to help!"

She forces a warm smile.

"Of course you are, it's okay."

She takes another sip from her water.


I don't want it if it's fake.

I don't want it if it's just for show.


Steve spins her around and through the air, in one of their school corridors on Tuesday.

Nancy's laughing, feeling excited to see him for the first time today. This is probably what puppies feel like, she thinks.

"Steve, stop it!", she snorts. She's not even trying to keep the volume down.

Nancy knows that they're not alone right about now, she knows that their classmates and even their teachers might be watching, but somehow it doesn't bother her at all. She kisses Steve back when he's reaching for her lips, enjoying the closeness, and... in a weird way... also the stares.

It's not like she has some voyeuristic thing going on, or something. It's just a good feeling when people can look at you and suppose that you have your life together. Isn't it?

Nancy has always been a little hyper-aware of other people's gaze. When she first spend the night at Steve's place – that night – going to school the next day was one of the scariest things Nancy ever had to do in her entire life (with the list of scary moments also including each of the other terrible moments she's encountered in that very week.)

Feeling people's eyes on her like that, knowing that they might know what she had done and knowing that they might know that she doesn't know how to feel about it yet,- it had sucked... Never before had Nancy Wheeler have to feel scared of words like... Well, words like the one on the cinema. Slut. Never before was a worry of that sort even remotely an issue for Nancy.

But Steve Harrington was the sort of guy who people talked about a lot, and who had seemed like the sort of guy who talked about quite a few things in return.

Nancy doesn't still feel that way. Steve doesn't really spend all that much time anymore with some of his old friends, these days. He kind of grew out of those friendships, he'd said.

A few days after that day, when Barb's disappearance became common knowledge and a real concern for at least some of their classmates, Nancy had noticed the stares again.

They'd all looked at her with these pitying, curious faces, and it had made everything so much harder to bear.

Nancy had never been unpopular, but neither had she been in any real form of social spotlight. She wasn't a cheerleader, wasn't an editor for the school magazine, wasn't wearing the fanciest clothes or the most fashionable haircuts, but people generally found her pleasant enough. They knew enough about Nancy to be aware of her close friendship to Barb.

And what an irony that was!

What an irony, to be on the receiving end of all this pity and the forced-smiled assurances, when Nancy's inability to stay her best friend's best friend for just a couple days longer had ultimatily killed Barb.

What an irony, that Nancy had put some silly teenage adventures over the person dearest to her, without ever being called out for it by anyone. She's never going to get punished. She's never going to forget.

The danger that has lurked in Hawkins is long gone. It has only been here for a couple of days, last November. Now things are stuck in a limbo of grief and fear and perfect fucking normalcy. Nancy doesn't crave the feeling of being rebellious anymore. She only craves her old self, with her best friend by her side. But that's gone.

If she'd been her old self, that night, Barb would still be here.

So why hasn't Nancy been her old self?

The answer to that question is as obvious as blinking Christmas lights in a dark, monster-trap-house.

Steve Harrington.

And that's perhaps why Nancy enjoys the stares, as she lets him spin her around and drown out her doubts about him and them a little more. She's not in a hurry to face the tiny, scary doubts. Because as much as a part of her loves him, she loved Barb more.

So that kissing him in public feels better than any other form of kissing him. It keeps the butterflies in her stomach. But it also keeps the pity out of their eyes.

And it's not like she doesn't adore Steve. It's just that Nancy struggles to keep doing so, sometimes. And maybe, at one point, she'll stop.

For now, she kisses him back, and that's that.


I want authentic, not just for fun.

If this love is plastic, it will break on us.

'Cause I don't want it if it's fake,

I don't want it if it's just for show.

I just want it if it's real-

And I'm thinking I should let you know.


(the end)