Nancy
Her mom was waiting with an expectant look when Nancy came inside. When she didn't say anything, Nancy looked up innocently. "What?"
Her mom shrugged nonchalantly, but there was a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Steve called," She answered.
Nancy nodded.
"Was that Jonathan Byers?" she asked, looking out the window at the now-empty road.
"Uh, yeah," Nancy replied. "It was. He gave me a ride home."
Her mom bit her lip then asked, "Are you two…?"
"When did Steve call?" Nancy replied, avoiding her mom's question.
"Fifteen, twenty minutes ago."
Ignoring the look of irritation she was getting, Nancy breezed past her mom and climbed the stairs to her room. Inside, she sat on her bed, trying to collect her thoughts. She glanced at the phone. Maybe she should ask Steve what he thought?
No. She rolled her eyes as Steve's voice popped in her head. Jonathan Byers is a nutcase, Nancy. What happened is over. It's in the past. And why are you hanging out with him anyway?
Yes, of course he would challenge her decision to be around Jonathan. There was some evidence that Steve had convinced himself he'd gathered months ago that indicated Nancy's romantic interest in Jonathan. Or vice versa. Did it really matter?
She dialed his number, tucking away her nervous thoughts and adopting a happy-Nancy voice.
Steve was his usual jovial self. "So you want to read me your speech for practice?" he asked.
"What speech?" she asked.
She heard his snort of laughter. "Valedictorians typically give a speech at graduation, right? It's tradition."
"Oh," she let out a little laugh herself. "Yeah, I finished that a while ago."
"So, let's hear it."
Nancy turned to the pile of books and notes she'd deposited on her bed. She shuffled the pile and her heart dropped. "Shoot! I left it in –" She stopped herself from mentioning Jonathan's car. "I left it in my locker."
"No big deal," Steve replied. "I bet you've got it memorized anyway."
He was mostly right, but Nancy felt a strange urgency to get the speech back. There was an odd comfort in reading a page of false hopefulness in her own words. "Steve, I've got a few things to take care of. Talk to you later?"
The excuse that she had to run to the library to finish up her speech had gone over easily with Nancy's parents. Now, propping her bike against her hip at the side of the road, she gazed at Jonathan's car almost triumphantly.
Something had been bugging her about their conversation earlier. Despite Jonathan's house being the first obvious place to find him, she rerouted herself halfway there and found his car parked along the tree line of the woods where Nancy had entered the Upside Down.
"I hate this place," she whispered to herself as she entered the woods.
It was nearly dusk and the sky was beginning to change from a brilliant red to a hazy purple. Toads croaked in the fading light and an owl hooted nearby. The shadows cast by the trees were being muddled in the creeping dark.
She'd been walking for nearly ten minutes when she saw him ahead, taking practice swings with a familiar nail-studded baseball bat.
"Jonathan," she called out. Better play it safe and announce herself this time.
Jonathan turned, mid-swing and immediately tucked the bat behind him. He didn't seem as startled as he'd been in the cemetery, but Nancy thought she saw his face redden a little. Maybe it was from the cool air that was descending with the darkness.
He gave her a shy, crooked smile. "Were you looking for me this time?" he asked. "Or was this a coincidence too?"
Nancy crossed her arms against a chill that ran the length of her body. "I hate this place," she repeated.
Jonathan's smile faltered. He turned to his left and rested a hand against the tree that had once held the gateway to the Upside Down where Nancy had entered. "Could you hear me when you were on the other side?" he asked after a while. He looked back at her and continued, "I could hear you. I heard you calling my name, but it was muffled and distant."
Nancy moved closer. She placed her hand on the tree, like Jonathan, and nodded. "I could hear you." She squinted her eyes thoughtfully. "But, like you said, it was like there was this barrier between us, so your voice was cloudy."
She rested her other hand against the trunk, digging her fingers in, feeling the unyielding rigidness and convincing herself the gateway was gone. Closing her eyes, those few minutes of primal terror returned. The colorless, frigid copy of their world, the echoing silence and that monster – she shuddered against the memories.
Then Jonathan's hand covered hers and they were both facing the tree, hands planted firmly as if they were trying to push it over.
Nancy remembered the light then, that moment of profound hope when Jonathan pulled her out of hell and how desperately she'd clung to him. Still on the monster's threshold, she'd laid on the forest floor with Jonathan, fingers tangled in his hair, holding so tight it must have hurt him. But he didn't say anything. He just held her back.
