i wanted her to look at me.

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/50002405.

Rating: Not Rated

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: F/F
Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Relationship: Robin Buckley/Nancy Wheeler
Characters: Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler, Steve Harrington, Barbara "Barb"
Holland
Additional Tags: Pre-Relationship, Pre-Canon, s1 au, technically pre-season 1, Stranger
Things Book: Rebel Robin, barb is mentioned but she never actually
shows up, this is pre-s1 so there will be stancy. you have been warned
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2023-09-10 Words: 2,574 Chapters: 1/1
 i wanted her to look at me.
by mermaidbar

Summary

october, 1983.

mrs. click's class.

(approximately two weeks before robin buckley disappears.)

or;

robin can't tear her eyes away from nancy, who can't tear her eyes away from steve and his
stupid hair.

Notes

hi hello! i just want to say that this is a prequel to a larger project (the au where robin and will
go missing) and i wanted to say thank u to mic and maddie for reading over this when i was
ready to throw it in the garbage so. thank you both so very much <3

oh also this has a fair amount of steve bashing, but it's literally just robin being jealous and
it's pre- them being bffs so.

i hope you enjoy!

See the end of the work for more notes

It starts with five words that Robin’s surprised didn’t leave her own mouth.

“You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

Robin’s not sure she can survive the rest of the semester like this. Watching Nancy Wheeler,
grinning and giggling and batting her lashes at the douchebag that is Steve Harrington.

It's too early for this shit. She just wants to get through Mrs. Click's class so she can actually
learn something in Mr. Hauser's class later. She doesn't have to stare at the back of Steve
Harrington's ridiculous hair in Mr. Hauser's.

Robin doesn't get it. What's so great about Steve Harrington anyway? He's an asshole, him
and his friends—douchebag one and douchebag two—always make fun of the band kids, and
he's not even that good looking. Really. She can't be that crazy in thinking that.

She feels bad for Nancy. At least, a little bit. They've never spoken, but she knows of Nancy.
Nancy Wheeler, straight A student, best friends with Barbara Holland, who used to be friends
with Robin until the sixth grade—it really wasn't personal, they'd just grown apart.

(Some part of her still feels a little jealous, she misses Barb sometimes. Sometimes they
smile and wave at each other in the hallways, but it's not the same. Not the same as
sleepovers at ten years old with the deepest and darkest secrets a ten year old can harbor
whispered in the dark and giggling at how ridiculous they were.)

Nancy just seems too sweet—too smart, really—to be wooed by Steve and his swoopy hair
and bagel crumbs.

Not that she's ever really spoken to Nancy Wheeler long enough to find out. For all Robin
knows, Nancy could be just as bad as Carol Perkins. Doubtful, though, since Barbara hates
Carol, too, and if Nancy were like that there's no way Barb would hang out around her. Robin
does know, according to the Hawkins High rumor mill, that Nancy's a priss. Which is the
complete opposite of asshat Steve Harrington, who can't even pay attention in a sophomore
history class.

If you ask her, Nancy is too pretty to be wasting her time on Steve, but that’s just Robin’s
opinion.

Not that it matters.

Okay, maybe it matters a little bit. Why should girls have to lower their standards for boys
that would never give them the light of day otherwise? Nancy's smart, smart enough to have
better standards and all of a sudden she's head over fucking heels for Steve? Someone who,
in fact, did not even look her way less than a month ago.

How does Robin know this? Because Nancy hated him, too. Scoffing at every lame comment
he could throw at Mrs. Click, rolling her eyes every time he wiped the bagel crumbs off his
desk and into the floor (and sometimes into Nancy's hair. She'd started pulling it over her
shoulder just to avoid it.)

Hate is a strong word. Maybe she didn't hate him, maybe strongly disliked him. Especially
because of the crowd he runs around with. His minions or whatever. (Carol and Tommy
follow him like lost dogs, even though they want you to think they're all above everyone else-
-they'd be nothing without him. Everyone knows it, too.) So Nancy strongly disliked Steve.

Maybe it's just Robin's humble, feminist opinion, but Nancy deserves someone better than
douchebag central. Someone who would actually value what she had to say and saw her as a
person rather than another notch in his belt.

None of this is really any of Robin's business anyway, people are allowed to like whoever the
hell they want, and Nancy liking Steve isn't an exception. No matter how much it makes
Robin gag.

But still, there’s something about it that just doesn’t…sit right with Robin. She’s not sure
what it is. Maybe it’s the fact that Nancy deserves way better. That she’s out of Steve’s league
by a long shot. (Though most at Hawkins would say it’s the other way around, Robin
disagrees.) Maybe it’s clouded in the fact that Steve just gets on Robin’s last nerve, or maybe
Robin’s just sick of girls trying to make themselves nicer and more appealing so guys will
like them more. Sick of trying to fit in a box when the box isn’t made for them, isn’t even
close to being made for them.

But that’s an argument for another day.

“Steve, stop. Some of us are trying to pay attention,” Nancy whispers, smile tugging at her
lips.

Robin tries to focus on her plans for Operation Croissant, detailing her plans in French and
Spanish so nobody else could read them—especially now that Kate is too busy swapping spit
with Dash to even care about an escape plan to Europe, but it's hard to do when Steve twirls
his pencil between his fingers, smirking at Nancy.

(It’s strange, she thinks, that her gaze is always drawn back to Nancy—pastel sweaters and
cardigans that she always wears because even in the Fall, Mrs. Click keeps her room colder
than the polar ice caps—always tracing the lines of her jaw, so sharp it could cut glass. Offset
by the soft, kind eyes and gentle smile that tugs at her lips that makes Robin’s stomach flip-
flop. Not that Robin is staring at her lips or anything.
Nancy is just…pretty. There’s nothing wrong in admitting that. Lots of girls are pretty. It
doesn’t mean anything.)

“Come on, Nancy, don't you already have an A in this class?” Nancy rolls her eyes at him,
but it's fond, not the same way Robin rolls her eyes at them flirting at eight fucking thirty in
the morning.

God, does this really work on people?

It must, because Dash did the same thing with Kate, and now look at them. He must’ve took
notes, even though he claims he’s above Harrington, because Kate and Dash are inseparable,
basically one person. Even closer now, if that was even possible.

Robin just, doesn't get it. The thought of some douchebag flirting with her while some poor
teacher has to lecture about the founding fathers before nine am just doesn't sit right with her.
Makes her skin itch and feel too tight and her stomach just a little queasy.

It's probably nothing.

It's not nothing.

It's not nothing, she realizes, when she's in the middle of Mrs. Click's class, daydreaming
about Operation Croissant, about Paris and Madrid and Florence and Rome, and she pictures
Nancy Wheeler with her instead of Milton or Kate or, hell, even Dash.

It's nothing, she realizes, when she pictures holding Nancy's hand as they walk along the
Seine in the city of love, big blue doe eyes that see Robin. Heart shaped face and shy smile
that makes Robin's stomach flutter and her palms a little sweaty and oh--

Oh no.

No. No, no, no, no.

Robin refuses to have a life altering revelation about herself and Nancy Wheeler in the
middle of American history. In her ankle length skirts and Keds and little cream colored
cardigan while Steve Harrington—Mister Funny, Mister Cool—flirts with her in the middle
of history and Nancy laughs and blushes and it makes Robin's stomach flip. She is not going
to think about kissing Nancy Wheeler, and how it feels right. Like how she’s “supposed” to
feel when girls talk about kissing boys.

She grips her pencil tighter, tries to focus on Mrs. Clickity-Clackity’s droning voice about the
Articles of Confederation and expel any thoughts about Nancy tagging along with her to
Operation Croissant from her mind.

It can't get any worse than this though, right?

Wrong.

It gets worse when she slams into Nancy Wheeler on her way to the school library seeking
refuge so she can listen to her Italian tape.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” Robin apologizes, scrambling to pick up her tapes. “I didn't even
see you, I--”

Nancy smiles softly. ”It's okay. I wasn't watching where I was going, either,“ she reassures.
Robin can feel her cheeks warm, just a touch. She blames it on the embarrassment of
crashing into Nancy Wheeler. Nothing more.

”Still, I'm really sorry,“ Robin repeats, handing Nancy her book. ”Are you okay?“

“Oh, yeah. The books took most of the damage,” Nancy jokes, big eyes glinting. Robin fights
the urge to apologize, again, and really, Robin wishes that a crater would open up here in the
hallway and swallow her whole. She flashes her a weak smile.

Nancy's face falls as she runs her fingers over Robin's Italian tape.“Your tape,” Nancy
frowns. “It's cracked, I'm sorry.” She hands Robin the tape, pinkie brushing Robin's.

”It's fine!“ Robin squeaks, ignoring the jolt of electricity from Nancy's pinkie barely brushing
her own and wincing at the crack in her voice. ”It's fine, I have another one at home.“

Robin rises to her feet, meeting Nancy's worried eyes looking up at her. If her face burns any
hotter she's going to actually combust. “Are you sure?“ Nancy asks, arms now folded in a
protective shield around her books.

”Oh, yeah, totally.“ Robin waves it off, running a hand through her hair. She smiles, feeling a
little breathless. ”Don't worry about me.“

They stay like that a moment, Nancy staring worriedly at Robin and Robin smiling weakly at
Nancy, trying to reassure her that it is totally fine—even though Robin doesn't actually have a
replacement tape at home.

(Robin tries not to think about how close they are, how she can see the pink dusting Nancy’s
cheeks—which makes Robin’s face burn brighter, if that’s even possible. Can she still blame
it on her own embarrassment? How much further can she embarrass herself?)

Their little bubble pops when a voice, one that's the bane of Robin's entire existence, yells:
”Hey, Nance!“

Nance?
King Steve struts down the hallway, with his royal court in tow, as his subjects clear a path for
him. It’s like Moses splitting the Red Sea. It’s ridiculous, how people part for a bunch of
pricks who’ll be stuck in this town way after they graduate high school.

Nancy’s face reddens as she watches this too, she must also be aware of the ridiculous social
hierarchy—or in this case, monarchy—that runs Hawkins High. The only difference between
Nancy and Robin is that Robin wants nothing to do with it.

(Robin reminds herself that Nancy, even though she’s apparently caught Steve’s eye, is still a
nerd. She only sits with Barbara at lunch, nobody else. Always strives to be the best of the
best at everything—it’s why she apparently earned the nickname Priss. Robin can’t blame
her though for wanting to get out of the purgatory that is nerddom and climb up that social
latter, as much as she detests it.

She just hadn’t expected Nancy to walk in to the clutches of the Hawkins Monster. Maybe
she’s better than that, though. Maybe it won’t touch her and she can get out of this
unscathed.)

”Sorry,“ she says, suddenly apologetic. ”I have to go. See you around, Robin.“

Robin's stomach flips. She didn't even know Nancy knew her name. ”Yeah, see you.“

She watches Nancy slot right next to Steve, who slings an arm around her, giggling and
blushing at him as he flashes her a stupid, toothy grin.

Robin bites the insides of her cheeks, tries to bite down the jealousy roiling in her stomach.
She shoves the cracked tape in her bag and decides to forgo the library; she can study at
home.

She doesn’t study.

She goes home and she screams into her pillow until her throat is raw and her face is wet
with tears and thanks every god out there that her parents aren’t home to see her like this. She
couldn’t focus on Italian if she wanted to, anyway. Not when her mind keeps drifting back to
light, chestnut curls pulled back, and big, bright eyes and kind smile and she doesn’t mean to
sound like a child, but God, it’s just not fair.

Steve is a douchebag and his hair isn’t even that great and he gets bagel crumbs all over Mrs.
Click’s floor. Why him? What is so great about Steve fucking Harrington that girls fawn over
him? And why her? Why does this happen to Robin? As if the revelation that she likes girls
wasn’t already e-fucking-nough, she had to go and get a crush on Nancy goddamn Wheeler,
who can’t stop staring at Steve.
God, why did it have to be her? Why not Tammy Thompson, or Chrissy Cunningham or hell,
even the spawn of satan himself, Carol fucking Perkins? At least with someone like Carol,
Robin could get over it easy. One, she’s a massive bitch, and two, Robin and Carol have zero
classes together, so the crush would disappear all on it’s own.

But no. Robin has to suffer. Trapped in sophomore history in her own personal hell, with her
own personal demons handpicked just for the optimal amount of suffering. And to make
things worse, she still has at least six more weeks of this before winter break. And even then,
she might not have classes with Nancy or Steve, but she’d still have to see them and their
disgusting puppy love parading through the hallways.

She’s not sure she can survive that long. Every god awful flirting attempt ending with Nancy
shyly looking away and blushing and Steve looking so fucking cocky even though everyone
knows he’s just trying to get another notch in his belt. As if Steve Harrington could care
about anything besides his precious hair and being a complete and utter pain in Robin’s ass.
In a perfect world, Robin would never have to deal with Steve or his minions ever again.

Nancy could do better than Steve, anyway. And not just because Robin may or may not have
a crush on her. There are tons of guys at Hawkins High that would be better for Nancy. Hell,
even Milton would be better for Nancy. Why would she settle for someone like Steve?

Robin groans, digging the heels of her palms in her eyes to stop the remaining tears from
flowing down her face.

Honestly she doesn’t know why she’s so upset about the whole thing, it’s Hawkins. Where
people clutch their pearls at “the Gays” and spit words like faggot and queer and dyke to
people who don’t fit their backwards, Reaganite world view. She shouldn’t be crying about it,
that’s just life.

And life isn’t fair, she knows, but it’s nice to imagine it, right? Nice to imagine a world where
Nancy Wheeler would look at her instead of Steve. Where Robin could say, “I have a crush
on Nancy Wheeler,” out loud and it wouldn’t be social suicide. She wouldn’t be the school
pariah and she could be equally frustrated about it, but at least it wouldn’t feel like she was
one wrong step from complete alienation.

One wrong step away from being devoured completely by the Hawkins Monster.

So she won’t. She’ll do what she’s always done, lay low and remain boring and completely
uninteresting so she draws no attention to herself. Continue on like normal, just with a new
and improved sense of paranoia. She can do it. She’s outrun the Hawkins Monster this far.

She’s just not sure how much running she’s got left in her.
End Notes

fun fact, did you guys know that ALLEGEDLY robin was supposed to say nancy's name in
the bathroom scene in s3? they changed it at the last minute to tammy thompson. but nancy
wheeler is based on nancy thompson from nightmare on elm street...so you never know....

also, writing this and knowing steve and robin become friends later in canon was so much
fun. like girl...

anyway, thank you so much for reading!! <3

tumblr: hellsfireclub
twitter: finalgirlnancy

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