Chapter 2 - Forever and Always
Were you just kidding?
'Cause it seems to me, this thing is breaking down
We almost never speak
I don't feel welcome anymore
Hopper slips two cigarettes out of the package in his pocket and wordlessly passes one to Joyce. She accepts and leans towards him so he can light it with the lighter he has pressed in the palm of his hand. On her first inhale, she coughs and sputters which causes him to laugh.
"What the hell Hop, these are terrible."
"I like them," he grins, taking a long, coughless, drag of his own cigarette.
The two of them were sitting on a bench in the park near Joyce's house, and had been sharing random stories about their respective days over cigarettes. Joyce used up the final cigarette in her pack as soon as they arrived, and was now stuck complaining about having to smoke Hopper's cigarettes.
"You're going to destroy your lungs," she lectures. Leaning back against the wooden park bench, she pulls the zipper higher on her leather jacket and crosses one jean-clad leg over the other.
"I think we're both doing that."
"Keep smoking those and you'll get there alot faster than I will." Joyce takes another drag, scrunching her facial features as she braces herself for the sharp inhale, but she's surprised to find it less harsh this time.
"You'll never guess who was waiting near my locker after third period," Hopper beams.
"Oh?" she remarks, she stares over at him and places the cigarette between her lips.
"Aren't you going to guess?"
"You just said that I'd never guess. Aren't you going to tell me?"
"You know that senior on the cheerleading squad? Tall, blonde…"
"Brainless," Joyce finishes for him with a wide smirk.
"She's not brainless. Her name is Chrissy."
"And why was Chrissy waiting for you?" She doesn't even attempt to hide the disinterest in her voice, instead she plays into it and uses it to make her remark sound sarcastic.
"She wanted to compliment me on the game the other night."
"And she couldn't do that after the actual game?"
Her comment bites, and it takes his visible excitement down a notch.
"What do you care what she thinks anyway?" Joyce shrugs.
"She's a senior. A senior who's a hot cheerleader. Of course I care what she thinks."
She notices he's sitting tall with his chest puffed out slightly more than usual and she realizes he's trying to brag about Chrissy flirting with him. She isn't sure what type of reaction he's hoping for from her, but she does her best to be supportive and dryly states that she's happy to "see him making friends" before asking if he can walk her home so she can get started on her homework.
It isn't jealousy, she tells herself. She didn't care if Chrissy flirted with Hopper. He was single and free to be excited by any girl that flirted with him. The only reason the mention of Chrissy irritated her was because she hated cheerleaders.
Nothing to do with Hopper. At all.
He walks her to the end of her street, where she insists that she's fine the rest of the way. He tells her he'll meet her at the library for their study session on Sunday and waves goodbye as she begins down the path to her house.
Part of her wishes she'd chosen to hang out with Hopper longer, but she felt she had to ask him to walk her home before she was forced to explain her non-existent jealousy over Chrissy. Since she didn't really have homework to do and she had no plans, despite it being a Friday night, she decides she'll spend the evening lost in the fictional realm of her latest novel. This way, she could avoid her father when he inevitably came home drunk and looking for a reason to yell at her.
.
.
Late Sunday afternoon, Joyce finds herself sprawled out at one of the tables in the far corner of the Hawkins Public Library. Sitting beneath the window, she scribbles down notes on a legal pad while basking in the early evening glow that was illuminating the table and providing the illusion of warmth.
With her hair pinned back and the glasses she hardly ever wears sitting on the bridge of her nose, she knows she looks completely different from how she does when she walks the halls of Hawkins High. At school, she liked to maintain her rebel attitude, but here within the stacks of books where she's supposed to be meeting Hopper, she feels like a different person. She embodies a version of herself that adores reading, that would never cut class (though she actually cut class often) and that wouldn't be caught dead walking around with the usual version of herself.
She liked that she got to play both parts. The girl who no one dared to mess with because they deemed her unpredictable, and the girl who enjoyed spending her Sunday afternoon reading in the library.
Hopper was supposed to meet her after his morning practice, and based on the way the sun drips behind the afternoon clouds, she begins to wonder if maybe practice ran late or he got a flat tire on his way to meet her. With no way to call him, she continues working while she waits, coming up with various jokes about his tardiness to use when he eventually arrives.
She realizes he probably isn't coming when the sun begins to fade and she needs to turn on the desk lamp to continue working. She should pack up and head home for dinner, but it wasn't like Hopper to forget about their plans, so she decides to wait a while longer in case something happened and he's just running (really) late.
The librarian approaches her while she has her nose buried in her book and taps on her shoulder to let her know they'll be closing shortly. With a heavy sigh she packs up her book bag and walks back home. It wasn't like Hopper to not show up or find a way to tell her he had to cancel, and worry consumes her on her walk.
What if he got hurt at practice? Or worse, what if he got hurt driving home? She contemplates walking past his house to check on him, but convinces herself that a phone call will suffice and goes for the receiver the moment she steps foot in her kitchen. She turns the dial and rings him, but there's no answer. Joyce brings her book bag into her room and kicks it to the side before storming back into the kitchen and furiously dialing the number for the Hopper's.
Jim's father answers the phone on the third ring and Joyce releases a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.
"Sorry to bother you, Mr. Hopper. I was just wondering if Jim was home?"
"He's not, can I take a message?"
"Do you know if he's alright?" she asks weakly.
"As far as I know?" his father responds, confused. "Are you sure you don't want to leave a message?"
Before Joyce can answer, the front door swings open, announcing her fathers return from his weekly poker game. She hangs up the phone before responding to Mr. Hopper and scampers towards the sink where she gets to work scrubbing the plates that had been left over the past few days.
"Have you just been bumming around all day?" her father asks as he stumbles into the kitchen. She can smell the scotch on his breath from across the room, and remains still.
"I went to the library to study."
"Such a smart girl," he grins wickedly, continuing through the house towards his bedroom.
Once the dishes are clean, Joyce makes herself a sandwich and retreats to her room where she curls up beneath her covers and wonders why Hopper forgot about their plans.
.
.
The following morning, Joyce searches the halls for Hopper so she can confront him and demand he explain why he stood her up, but she doesn't see him anywhere. He wasn't exactly hard to spot in a crowd, being incredibly tall, and she wonders where he could be.
The warning bell rings and Joyce gives up on her search and heads to the locker room to prepare for gym class. She knows she'll see him in science and she plans on cornering him after class and lecturing him for scaring the crap out of her.
In the locker room, she selects her usual spot in the corner, away from her fellow classmates and changes into the required sweatpants and grey cotton t-shirt. Placing her own clothes into her locker, she overhears two girls giggling on the other side of the lockers and the sound of Hopper's name grabs her attention. She steps towards the blue metal cage and stills her breathing so she can focus on what's being said.
From the other side of the locker room, she hears a girl laugh and say "C'mon Chrissy. You have to tell us more."
Feeling daring, Joyce peers around the side of the lockers into the adjacent aisle and immediately recognizes the two seniors she can hear. Chrissy Carpenter and her best friends, Melina and Teresa. Chrissy is standing with her back to Joyce wearing nothing but a pale pink pair of panties and a matching bra, while her friends have already changed into their gym clothes. Before they have a chance to spot her, Joyce shrinks herself back into the corner where she's invisible to them. She knows she shouldn't be listening in on them, but she can't help herself.
"Where did he take you?" she hears one of the girls ask.
"We went to one of those drive-in movies," Chrissy replies. Both of her friends squeal.
"And? What happened?"
"Sorry ladies, I don't kiss and tell."
Though she can't see, Joyce can hear the smirk in Chrissy's voice and she cringes.
"But I'm also not one to get past first base and shut up. He's a really good kisser," Chrissy gushes. This time she's met with even more squealing and giggling.
Joyce can feel her pulse racing and she doesn't need to look into a mirror to know her cheeks are the colour of tomatoes. After the girls leave the locker room, she splashes her face with cold water and grips at the edges of the sink to steady herself. She stares at her own reflection and swallows hard. He stood her up for a date and she was livid.
.
.
Hopper had been on a handful of dates. He'd never had a serious relationship, but the news of him dating wasn't a shock to Joyce. He dated frequently, he kissed girls in their class at parties and on occasion he admitted he went further. It never bothered her. He was entitled to live his life without her judgements, but what didn't sit right with Joyce was the fact that he blew her off for a girl he just met.
Worse than that, he hadn't even called her to apologize afterwards.
Joyce blows off first and second period and by time she gets to science class, she's absolutely livid with Hopper. She claims her seat without glancing in his direction, and when he calls her name she looks the other way. Lucky for her, Mr. Benson begins the lesson and Hopper is forced to stop trying to attract her attention. She notices him staring at her out of the corner of her eye, but keeps her eyes glued on the blackboard.
When class is dismissed, he's immediately in front of her desk, staring down at her with pleading eyes. "Joyce," he says, demanding her attention, "is everything alright?"
Figures, she thinks to herself. He doesn't even realize he's done something wrong. With a huff, she balances her books on her arm, looks him dead in the eye and simply smiles, "I missed you at the library yesterday."
Satisfied with the sarcastic way the remark falls off her tongue, she turns swiftly on her heel and walks towards the exit.
"Oh shit," he blubbers. "Joyce. I am so so sorry!" He reaches for her arm and forces her to stop and face him.
Desperate to keep herself composed, Joyce rolls her shoulders back and tilts her head. "I assume you had something more important to do? And that all the phones died so you couldn't call and apologize. I mean, that is the only logical explanation as to why you stood me up and then never called to explain why."
He pales and fiddles with his thumbs. Though he towers over her, he feels much smaller than her and he stutters as he attempts to speak.
"I'm so sorry! I never meant to stand you up, it's just… my dad," he pauses and gulps before he continues speaking, "he needed a hand with some chores and I completely lost track of time."
Joyce raises her eyebrow at him but he only nods, as if he's convincing himself of his own story.
"That's funny. I didn't know your dad was a seventeen year old blonde cheerleader," she deadpans.
She watches as his jaw falls open and then flops closed before opening again, a fish out of water.
"Who told you about Chrissy?"
"Does it really matter?" she exclaims. No longer able to contain her anger, Joyce storms out of the classroom and off to her locker. With shaky hands, she turns the dial and enters the combination, slams her textbook onto the metal shelf and reaches for her pack of cigarettes, which she stuffs into the back pocket of her jeans.
"Joyce!" Hopper's voice echoes through the hallway and a few people turn around to stare.
He reaches her locker and barks at the bystanders on-looking before reaching for her hand and cautiously covering it with his own palm.
"Joyce, please listen to me," he pleads. His voice cracks and Joyce can see tears forming so she nods and let's him continue.
"I didn't mean to stand you up, I just forgot," he admits in a quick breath.
"You just lied to me!"
"I know and I'm…"
"In all the time that we have known each other, you've never once lied to me," she whispers. She sounds broken and defeated and it breaks something in Hopper, who reaches down and wraps his arms around her shoulders. He rests his chin on her head and waits until her breathing normalizes.
"I didn't want to lie to you Joyce." He tells her when he releases his hold on her.
"Then why did you?"
"I'm not sure I'm going to see her again and I didn't want to make a big deal out of it," he admits.
"Why wouldn't you see her again? Sounds to me like she had a great time."
"She told you?"
"I overheard,"Joyce shrugs sheepishly. She didn't want to admit that she'd been listening. "Why didn't you tell me before?"
"Because I didn't want you to tell me not to go."
"I wouldn't have."
"Yes, you would have. You made the way you feel about her crystal clear the last time I brought her up and I didn't want you to convince me that I shouldn't go."
"You don't always have to listen to me you know," she chuckles, a smile finally replacing her scowl.
"I care about what you think, Joyce."
"And I want to see you happy, Hop."
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I swear, I'll never lie to you again."
"You better not because next time I'll have to kick your ass," she laughs, playfully nudging into him.
They begin to walk towards the cafeteria, and just like any other time they'd fought, they're quick to move on and it's as if the entire dramatic scene in the hall never happened. Only, unlike their precious fights, this one still weighs on Joyce's shoulders.
"Hey Joyce," Hopper says. "I want you to know that even if I do see Chrissy again, I promise it won't change anything between us."
But it already had begun to change things and she had a feeling that the changes were only going to snowball in the weeks to come.
That afternoon at lunch, instead of losing herself in a world of fiction, she finds herself lost in a web of her own feelings. Was she angry with Hopper because he bailed on her for Chrissy, because he lied about it? Or was her anger rooted in the fact that he was becoming romantically involved and she feared that this one wouldn't be as short lived as the others.
.
.
Just as Joyce feared, as Hopper began to spend more time with Chrissy, he spent less time with her. On two separate occasions, he cancelled plans with Joyce to spend time with his new "not" girlfriend (as he insisted when Joyce asked if they were an item yet). She was disappointed when he cancelled, but she figures it's a passing phase and she would only have to share Hopper temporarily, so she decides to put on a brave face and act like it doesn't bother her. The silver lining was that he was always honest about why he was bailing on their plans, and she truly believed that he would never lie to her again, which brought her some sense of comfort.
On Thursday, Joyce notices that Chrissy has secured herself a seat at Hopper's usual lunch table and she rolls her eyes to herself. She's sitting at her typical table with Eli and Josie, who are engaged in an animated discussion about string theory and its applications that Joyce tuned out of a long time ago.
She and Hopper never had lunch together. It wasn't as though they couldn't sit together, but she knew he enjoyed spending the lunch period with his friends and she preferred spending time with him when they were away from the prying eyes of their classmates. Joyce knew he enjoyed the mindless conversations and bonding that having lunch with his teammates offered, but there Chrissy was, seated right next to him, pretending to be interested in whatever story is being told.
Hopper must hate having her practically glued to his side. He was such an individual that loved independence, surely he would tell Chrissy he enjoyed eating lunch with his friends, but Chrissy is right back in the seat next to him the next day, stealing french fries off his plate and causing Joyce to scowl from across the cafeteria.
After school on Friday, Joyce finds Hopper waiting for her at her locker.
"Hey," he smiles.
"Hey," she replies. She busies herself by filling her book bag and preparing to head home so that she doesn't have to look at him. He'd been avoiding her all week; cancelling plans, rushing out of science so he could meet Chrissy for lunch, skipping out on their conversations at her locker before class, so she's surprised to find him waiting.
"Look, I'm sorry we haven't seen much of each other this week. I was wondering if you wanted to come with us to the diner tonight?"
"Us?"
"Yeah, Benny, Chrissy, a few of the other guys…"
"Sorry. I have plans tonight," she lies.
He doesn't seem to buy it but he also doesn't push.
"Well, if you change your mind, that's where we'll be." He walks off without uttering another word and Joyce angrily stuffs her pencil case into her bag.
It's not lost on her that he doesn't take the blame for them not having seen each other, and her anger makes her cheeks hot. She didn't have any plans. She knew it and she knew Hopper knew it, but she couldn't bring herself to sit at a table across from him and Chrissy and watch them moon over one another. It was bad enough she had to witness it at school, she didn't need to go out of her way to feel uncomfortable as well.
She wanted to be happy for Hopper. But something about Chrissy rubbed her the wrong way and she hated seeing them together. The thought made her stomach curl into knots and she knows that things can't keep going on like this because if they did, she risked losing her favourite person.
On her walk home, Joyce promises herself that she'll try harder to be happy for him. She could muster up the courage to plaster a fake smile on her face and comment on what a cute couple they made, at least until Hopper got bored of her and things could go back to normal.
When Joyce arrives at home, she finds a note on the fridge explaining that both of her parents will be out for the evening. She prepares dinner for herself and takes the plate into her room. Once she's finished eating, she wraps a blanket around her shoulders and slouches back against the wall with her sketchpad. Joyce flips to a fresh page and removes a charcoal pencil from her sack before beginning to draw on the blank sheet. She's not sure what it is when she begins, but she channels her emotions and allows her hand to move with how she feels. Sketching was not something she did often, but when she did find time to sit down and work, her pieces reflected some of her innermost thoughts.
She continues to draw, black lines stretching across the sheet in various directions, until the sun fades in the window and the evening air chills her room. She could have gone to the diner instead of spending the night alone in her tiny room, but then she would have to face him, and facing him meant facing them, and facing them meant facing feelings she was afraid to confront.
Her pencil falls to the side, the drawing now complete and she finds herself face to face with an eye, only it's not just any eye, it's Hoppers. It was wise, yet fragile, and her fingers hover over the still piece of art as she processes what it all means.
She wishes she was at the diner with Hopper, that Chrissy never came into the picture. What surprises her the most is that she finds herself wishing she was in Chrissy's position. She wants to be there with Hopper. It hits her like a freight train and she's winded and drowning at the same time that she's flying. With Hopper.
She repeats the realization over in her head and turns the drawing over in her hands. Of course she was jealous of him spending more time with someone else, that was something all friends experience, but what she feels, this gnawing feeling in her gut, was not the type of jealousy experienced by abandoned friends. This was the type that roared its ugly head at inconvenient times and reminded her that no matter how hard she tried, she would never be able to completely forget the way she felt about him.
Unlike every other time she had this thought and forced herself to dismiss it, she leans into the feeling and finds herself going down the rabbit hole of "what-ifs." What if she told him that she might have feelings for him? Would he feel the same way, or would it ruin their friendship and leave her with nothing? What if she told him and he wanted nothing to do with her? Or worse, what if he felt the same way but then things inevitably fell apart and left them with nothing.
What if she admitted to herself that it wasn't "might" have feelings for him but rather she did. That the question wasn't; what if she told him she might have feelings for him, but was; what if she told him she had feelings for him?
Woah, she thinks to herself, sitting up and letting herself become consumed by the headrush.
She had feelings for Hopper.
Romantic feelings. The can't-eat, can't-sleep, reach-for-the-stars, over-the-fence, World Series kind of feelings.
Joyce climbs out of bed and drags herself into the shower, where she remains lost in the confounds of her own mind. At one point, she wonders if she should tell Hopper about her feelings, since they told each other everything, but she decides that it would be pointless to tell him. He was with Chrissy now and there was no way he felt the same way. He saw her as a friend, and lately, she was questioning even that.
.
.
Saturday afternoon, Hopper shows up at Joyce's house at quarter past twelve so they can head to the library. Joyce, who assumed Hopper would bail on her to spend the weekend with Chrissy, hadn't thought about how awkward she would feel after her late night revelation. She climbs into the front of the car and squeaks an awkward hello, keeping her gaze directed out the passenger side window.
"So, what did you get up to last night?" he asks.
"I had some homework to catch up on," she lies.
"When are you ever behind on homework?"
"It was a busy week," she replies. She offers no further explanation, and they both suffer in silence for a few minutes.
"I missed you last night. At the diner."
"You did?"
"Of course," he grins, "who else will make fun of me for ordering extra fries but then still help me eat them?"
"I'll come next time," she says. It's a lie.
She's still waiting for him to address the elephant in the room when they arrive at the library, and she realizes he isn't going to.
They claim their usual table in the back corner. It's busier today than it was last weekend when Joyce studied alone, and a few of their classmates wave to Hopper as they wind through the book stacks and cubicles.
The pair fall into a comfortable routine in no time, Hopper teasing Joyce because she refuses to fold down the corner pages of her books, and Joyce claiming only mad men would ruin a perfectly good book. For a while, she forgets about the strain the past week had put on their friendship. Everything is simple, easy and them. Just Joyce and Hopper, teasing one another the way best friends do. It's almost too easy to forget about all of the things plaguing her conscious when she's with him. He made her feel at home, which made it even harder to face the fact that it felt like he was slipping away.
Joyce chooses to forget about that for the moment and to just enjoy spending time with Hopper. As pathetic as it sounded, she was willing to take what she could get.
"What do you think about driving up to the quarry this week?" she asks him.
He's leaning with his elbows propped up on the table, his textbook still sealed shut and he's staring at a table across the way. "Huh?" he mumbles, turning back towards Joyce.
She follows his prior gaze and can't resist the urge to roll her eyes when her own eyes settle on a blonde, sitting with two of her friends, giggling.
"The quarry, this week?" she repeats. Irritation rings through her voice as she watches Hopper return his attention to the blonde while responding to the question she knows he wasn't listening to. "Sure."
"Are you even listening to me?" Joyce asks.
"Of course I am," he replies. He gives her his undivided attention for the next few moments while she discusses their potential plans for the week ahead, but it's tugged away the moment Chrissy saunters over and perches herself on the side of the table next to Hopper.
"Hi James," she smirks, her hand lingering on his bicep.
Joyce cringes when she calls him James, but does her best to remain unphased by Chrissy's presence.
"Chrissy, you know Joyce, right?" Hopper introduces them.
With an intimidating smile, Chrissy extends her palm to Joyce and limply shakes her hand. "I don't believe we've met. Nice to meet you."
"You too," Joyce mutters beneath her breath.
"The girls and I were just talking about that thing you said at lunch the other day," Chrissy laughs, her hand roaming up Hopper's arm.
Joyce resists the urge to gag and roll her eyes, instead watching Hopper who clearly doesn't know how to react to Chrissy's display of PDA.
"We were also discussing our final project for home economics and I suggested we make that grilled cheese sandwich you made for me. Isn't he just the best?" she turns to Joyce and gushes. "I swear, he makes the world's greatest grilled cheese. You should get him to make it for you sometime."
Of course, Joyce had had Hopper's grilled cheese plenty of times and she knew that Chrissy knew this. She and Hopper may enjoy their lunch period with separate crowds, but it was no secret to their classmates that they were long time friends and Joyce knew that Chrissy's statement was meant to mark her territory. She was trying to tell Joyce that she and Hopper communicated in a way that he and Joyce didn't, by demonstrating that she knew personal details about him.
Joyce considers making a snarky comment back, and is surprised when Hopper speaks up before she has a chance to.
"Oh, Joyce has had it before. Who do you think taught me how to make it?" he proudly brags while remaining completely oblivious to the stand-off that was occurring.
"How cute," Chrissy remarks. "Anyways, I just came over here to see if I could steal Jim away for a bit. I'm struggling with an assignment and he promised he would help me. You don't mind, do you Joyce?"
Hopper looks from Chrissy, to Joyce and back, unsure of whether he should speak.
Not wanting to give Chrissy any type of satisfaction, Joyce smiles up at her and replies, "Of course not. Some of us need a little more help than others."
The comment goes over Chrissy's head, but Hopper catches it and frowns.
"Just give me a minute and I'll be right over," he tells Chrissy who hops down off the table and sashays back to her friends.
"Really Joyce?" he scolds.
"What?"
"That wasn't very nice and you know it."
She wants to scream at him and tell him that Chrissy was the one who insisted on coming over to their table to prove some type of point to her; that the entire conversation they just had was a backhanded way of warning Joyce to back off, but she can't. She can tell that he's infatuated with this girl, and that she makes him happy. As badly as she wants to say something, she cares too much about Hopper to hurt him purposefully, so she bottles up her anger and swallows her pride.
"Ya well, I guess I'm not very nice sometimes," she snaps. She packs up her books and storms out of the library. Chrissy watches with a satisfied smirk while Hopper simply stares after her and sighs while he wonders; What the hell had gotten into her?
Frustrated, Joyce begins her long walk home where she curses at Chrissy beneath her breath for ruining the first afternoon she had all week alone with Hopper. Couldn't Hopper see that being with Chrissy was driving a wedge between them?
.
.
Midway through the walk back to her house, it begins to pour rain. Rather than run the rest of the way, Joyce looks up at the sky, arms outstretched and closes her eyes, feeling each individual bead of rain that collides with her skin and rolls down her cheeks. How the hell did she get here? Walking home alone in the rain because Hopper abandoned her for someone else. Was she out of line when she insulted Chrissy, she doubted it. Was she jealous because she wanted to be the girl Hopper was interested in? Yes, but this was something else entirely. She was angry with Hopper for putting someone else before her when he promised he would always be there.
Looking up at the sky, she takes a moment to appreciate the sarcastic irony that was her life this past week, when everything came down to nothing. She pinches her eyes closed, enjoying the cold feel of the rain soaking through her clothes as her mind flashes back to the first time he promised her he would always be there.
…..
Sitting on Hopper's porch, watching as the storm rolled through the town, Joyce buried her face in Hopper's shoulder and sobbed. She was aware of the stain she was leaving on his shirt, but he didn't seem to mind. He rubs his hands over her back and tries to calm her, but she shakes like the wind from the storm and clings to his arm like her life depends on it. Hardly ten years old, she and Hopper had been friends for a few years, but today was the first time Joyce told him about her home life.
It started when he came over to ask if she wanted to go to the park with him and he interrupted one of her fathers fits. He was screaming at her mother about something in the kitchen, and Joyce meekly accepted Hopper's offer, embarrassed that he heard her parents fighting and followed him back to his house. The two played in his yard as if nothing happened, but soon the storm clouds rolled in and Hopper's mother insisted they either come inside or stay on the porch.
For the first time ever, she addressed what happened back at her house and admitted that she hated it at home. Unsure of what to do, Hopper hugged her while she cried and rubbed her back like his mother always did to him when he was upset. When she finally calmed down, he helped her wipe away her tears and he took her hand in his.
"Don't worry Joyce. No matter what it's going to be okay because you'll always have me."
"I will?"
"I promise," he extends his pinky and wraps it around hers. "Always."
…..
And now she was walking home alone in the rain because apparently she and Hopper had different definitions of always.
.
.
"Hey," Hopper beams as Joyce stumbles into the diner and towards their usual table.
"Hey," she says softly. "You wanted to talk?"
When Hopper had called last night after she got home from the library, he caught her off guard. He asked if they could meet up for lunch at the diner, and against her better judgement, Joyce agreed. She assumed that maybe he wanted to apologize for everything that happened between them the past week, but she told herself not to get her hopes up as she made her way across town to the local hangout spot.
"Yeah, I have something to tell you," he says. He's nervously fidgeting with his fingers and Joyce notices that he refuses to look her in the eye, which does nothing to calm her nerves.
"What can I get you kids?" a waitress interrupts.
"Two chocolate milkshakes please," Hopper orders, "do you want anything else?"
His question is directed at Joyce, who shakes her head and says she's fine with the milkshake.
Once the waitress is out of ear shot, Joyce leans towards Hopper and urges him to tell her whatever it was he needed to.
"So, you um… have to tell me something?"
Things between them had never been this awkward. They shared everything with one another and there was hardly ever anything that was too difficult or personal to share. But this was different. Awkward silence fills the space between them as Hopper runs his thumb over his chin and stalls. He opens his mouth to speak twice, but promptly closes it and stutters instead of speaking.
"Hop? You're scaring me a bit," she chuckles, desperately trying to lighten the mood.
The waitress returns and slides two milkshakes between them. Joyce thanks her and immediately reaches for her so she can take a long sip; something to focus on.
"I- I asked Chrissy to go to prom with me," he finally admits. The sentence tumbles out in a single breath, and he too reaches for his shake so that he doesn't have to keep speaking.
"Oh," she whispers.
She knows it's ridiculous, but after their last conversation about the dance, part of her was hoping that he would ask her to prom, even if it meant going as friends. The other night at the lake he was insistent that she consider going, which manifested itself into the crazy notion that he may ask her so she would be forced to attend and have fun.
She wanted him to ask her, and not as strictly friends. But she couldn't tell him that now without it coming off as jealous and some pathetic excuse as to why he shouldn't take Chrissy Carpenter to prom, so Joyce smiles, takes a sip of her milkshake and pretends like her heart hasn't just been shattered.
"I still want you to come, Joyce. It won't be the same without you."
"I'm sure you'll have plenty of fun without me."
"Joyce," he sighs.
"It's fine, Hop. Go. Have fun with your girlfriend."
He closes his eyes and gulps. "I really hope I see you there." With that, he rises from the booth and looks down at her, "do you want a ride home?"
"I think I'll stick around for a while, thanks."
Hopper nods and heads out to his car. It's the first time he doesn't correct Joyce when she refers to Chrissy as his girlfriend and it cuts like a knife.
Joyce excuses herself from the otherwise empty table and heads to the ladies room, where she splashes her face with warm water and succumbs to the tears that begin to form. She was a fool trice. First, because she thought he was going to apologize, secondly because she thought he'd realized how little effort he'd been putting into their relationship lately and finally, because a small part of her was hoping he'd ask her to the prom.
Looking at herself in the mirror, she realizes she looks pathetic. Joyce Horowitz didn't cry over boys, and she certainly shouldn't cry over one she believed would never hurt her. Before anyone can see her, Joyce wipes away her tears with the back of her hand and sniffles. He was just like the rest of them, selfish and capable of breaking her heart.
As Joyce is preparing to leave, the door swings open and Josie walks in.
"Joyce? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Joyce sniffles.
"You're crying," Joise points out.
"It's nothing, I'm fine." She dries her eyes and does her best to step back into her tough girl persona, but Josie's worried eyes cause something in her to shatter and another tear slips down her cheek.
"Why don't we go order something to eat?" the girl suggests. Silently, Joyce nods, cleans her face for the second time and follows Josie out to a new table near the window of the diner.
The pair orders a plate of fries and they eat in silence. Joyce appreciates what Josie is doing, but she isn't sure she's ready to open up to someone she hardly knows. Instead of asking about it, Josie begins to tell a story about a show she saw on television the night before, and before she knows it, Joyce finds herself smiling.
"Feeling better?"
"I am. Thank you."
"We don't have to talk about it," Josie says, "but we can if you want to. Tomorrow at lunch we can pretend like this never happened."
Intrigued by the offer to get all of her feelings out there but then resume their normal day-to-day routine, Joyce spends the next hour telling Josie everything. She begins with the first time Hopper blew her off to spend time with Chrissy and details their fight after he lied about it. She then goes on to explain that Hopper had started changing, and how she came to realize she "might" have feelings for him. She doesn't dare admit that she does have them, because telling Josie made it real and she wasn't ready for that yet. She finishes by talking about what happened in the library, how she came to meet Hopper assuming he was going to apologize only to discover he was taking Chrissy to prom.
She leaves out the part about wanting to go to prom with him, but she does tell Josie that Hopper asked her to consider attending.
"Screw him," Josie remarks when Joyce finally finishes her rant. "You're better off without him."
Joyce knows that isn't true, but she appreciates Josie's spirited attempts to support her.
"You know what we should do?"
"What?"
"We should go to prom together and just have a total blast, really rub his nose in the fact that you can have fun without him."
"I don't know… I'm not a fan of dances."
"Neither am I. I hate the entire idea."
"Then why would you want to go?"
"Well you can't go alone now, can you."
"Josie, you don't have to…"
Josie holds up her palm to stop Joyce, "I want to. It'll be fun! What do you say?"
"What the hell, let's do it."
.
.
The week that passes between the afternoon at the diner and the date of Junior prom is the longest week of Joyce's life. Between class work, finding a dress suitable for the dance and actively avoiding Hopper, she hardly has a moment to herself but the time passes extremely slow. It also marks the longest she'd ever gone without talking to Hopper.
Avoiding him began as a way to prevent having to have any awkward conversations, but when he made no effort to reach out, her anger towards him grew and she had a second reason to avoid him. She saw him every day in science class, but they avoided looking at one another and she always bolted out of the classroom the moment the dismissal bell rang.
The only positive thing that came out of the mess with Hopper, was her new found friendship with Josie. The girls discussed their plans for the dance during the lunch period on Monday and on Wednesday Joyce went over to Josie's house after school to borrow a dress.
She selects a simple black dress with thin shoulder straps that hugs her hips in a flattering way, while Josie settles on a powder blue gown with a puffy skirt. The girls get ready together at Josie's house on Friday afternoon. They sneak a few shots from Josie's parents liquor cabinet, and Joyce let's Josie pin her hair back using a fancy clip. She does a simple makeup look, smoky eyes and a red lip and she finishes the look with her everyday black Converse.
Josie tries to convince Joyce to wear heels, but she's hard headed and insists that she feels better wearing the sneakers. Josie's mom snaps a polaroid of the two girls and drops them off outside the gym, which has a hand-painted banner hanging out front that reads "Hawkins High, Junior Prom '59."
The gymnasium is coloured in silver and blue streamers and balloons, and is the most horrific thing Joyce has ever laid eyes on. In the center, a band is set up and playing, while several of her classmates swarm the dance floor. She doesn't see anyone she recognizes, and wraps her arms around herself while she follows Josie through the crowd and towards a vacant table.
"Well, what do you think?" Josie asks.
"I think this is the tackiest thing I've ever seen," Joyce laughs.
"Isn't it awful?!" Josie giggles, "C'mon, I hear that someone always spikes the punch, let's make this evening more fun."
While retrieving punch, a blonde boy Joyce doesn't recognize approaches Josie.
"Want to dance?" he asks her before even introducing himself.
"I'm with my friend, but thanks," Josie politely declines.
"C'mon," he insists, his hand settling on her wrist, he tugs on it, "one dance."
"She said no. Now beat it before I make you regret ever coming over here," Joyce barks at him. Terrified, the kid backs off and vanishes into the crowd.
"Thanks," Josie smiles.
"Anytime."
.
.
Across the gym, Hopper arrives with Chrissy, who's dressed in a bright pink dress, on his arm and hands two tickets to the kid sitting at the ticket table. He recognizes Bob, a nerdy AV kid who was usually setting up speakers at things like this. Hopper always felt bad, watching as he set things up at dances. As one of the only members of the Hawkins AV club, he probably never had a chance to enjoy things like dances. Then again, Bob was one of the nerdiest kids Hopper had ever met, he doubted he would want to attend dances,
Thanking Bob, Hopper leads Chrissy into the gym where they begin mingling with a group of guys from his football team. He was nervous to ask Chrissy to the junior prom. She was a popular senior and he wasn't sure this was her scene, but she seemed to be fitting in just fine. After greeting some more friends, he asks if she wants to dance and leads her to the dance floor, which is where he first spots her. Standing near the punch bowl wearing a flattering black dress, her hair pinned back showing off her high cheekbones and red lips, was Joyce.
He does a double take and his hand slips from Chrissy's shoulder.
.
.
Joyce notices Hopper the moment he enters. As if his height and powder blue suit weren't enough, it was like the energy in the room shifted when he arrived. He was surrounded by a few of his teammates, and eventually he ended up on the dance floor holding Chrissy, that was where she first noticed him staring at her.
She realizes that she can let his presence bother her, linger on the way his date wraps herself around him and call it a night, but she doesn't want to do that. She came out to have fun, and he didn't get to take that away from her, not when she'd come this far.
After Josie excuses herself to say hello to a few friends, Joyce finds herself standing alone at the edge of the dance floor, awkwardly tapping her foot. She looks out at her classmates, all having a blast jumping around to the music. Part of her envies them. They all seemed so care-free. She told herself that she would make an effort to relax more, and coming tonight was the first step.
She was proud of herself for actually putting on a dress and going through with it. It didn't matter that Hopper was here with Chrissy, or that the blonde was all over him, she came to the dance for herself. That's why, when a boy she recognizes from her english class approaches her and introduces himself as Lonnie Byers, she agrees to dance with him.
She shyly follows Lonnie onto the dance floor and laughs when their hands collide as they reach for one another. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she relaxes into his touch and allows him to sway them. They make small talk while they move and it's pleasant and peaceful until she spots Hopper off to the side.
She shouldn't be staring at him. She should focus on the nice boy who asked her to dance, the man whose arms are wrapped around her center. Instead, she's focused on the man looming on the opposite side of the gym.
Joyce is aware he's watching and maybe she doesn't care but maybe she's putting on a show that she wants him to watch. And judging by the way he's grinding down on his molars, maybe it's working. This childish game he's trapped her into playing. Because she wasn't staring, until she noticed him staring, and now they're stealing glances of one another from opposite sides of a school gym covered in pale blue balloons and pathetic streamers, and she can't bring herself to look away.
When Lonnie leans in to tell her she looks beautiful, she realizes how ridiculous she's being. Here she was in the arms of a perfectly nice boy and she was wasting time thinking about someone who she wasn't romantically involved with, someone that was here with someone else.
She didn't care that he was here with Chrissy. She didn't care that they'd been spending less and less time together. She certainly didn't care about the way he looked in his suit.
But, he looked handsome and she couldn't help herself from staring. From wondering what it would feel like if she was in his arms and not Lonnie's.
She catches him staring and lets Lonnie hold her closer.
.
.
If Hopper's eyes could, they would be boring holes into the back of Lonnie Byers head from across the room. With Chrissy off fetching them some punch, Hopper has nothing to do besides watch as Lonnie, a scrawny kid who was in his gym class, held Joyce by the waist and whispered in her ear.
He has half a mind to storm across the gym and deck the kid, but Joyce appears to be enjoying it and that's what eats away at him the most. He's never experienced a feeling like this before; this cold, on edge feeling that has his hands balled into fists and his cheeks flushed. He doesn't recognize that he's jealous, because why would he be? He and Joyce were friends. He was here with Chrissy. Hot. Blonde. Cheerleading, Chrissy.
But why did the thought of Lonnie Byers palm pressed to the small of Joyce's back drive him fucking mad.
He unclenches his fists and stretches out his fingers, staring down at them so he can avoid looking at them. He feels Chrissy's perfectly manicured hand slide into his and she emerges at his side with a glass of punch.
Following his gaze across the room, she notices what he's looking at; Joyce.
"I thought you said Joyce wasn't coming," Chrissy remarks, nestling into Hopper's side, her arm possessively wrapped around his middle.
"I didn't think she was. That's the thing about Joyce, she's unpredictable," he smiles. Chrissy tugs on his hand and leads him towards the dance floor. As he takes her in his arms, he steals a glance of Joyce from over Chrissy's head. The dance has ended and she's standing with a girl he recognizes from her photography club and laughing. Her crimson red lips are curved into a real smile and she looks radiant. Her dress is simple, black; a very Joyce colour, and the sneakers she's wearing force his own lips into a smile.
Joyce Horowitz was one hell of an unpredictable woman. It was one of the things he loved about her.
And it rains in your bedroom
Everything is wrong
