201. Somebody's Gonna Have To Change

Chapter 201, somebody's gonna have to change.October, 1984. (Three hundred and twenty-eight days later.)

Lucy Andrews was not known to dislike much—only the reasonable things, such as hot weather, failing classes, shaving her legs—but there would always be one thing she could never bring herself to care for: Staying with her mother.

After their divorce, Rich and Deb Andrews had somehow won shared custody over their children, even though both Lucy and Leo had stated they would have rather lived year-round with their father and only occasionally visit their mother on days when they had to, like her birthday. But the judge—a fat, balding old man who was likely a consort of Deb's—decided in her partial favor and set a schedule so that Leo and Lucy would be able to switch off between their parents' houses every four weeks. Wonderfully inconvenient for the kids and completely against what they initially asked the court for, but Lucy was beginning to learn that the adults never liked to listen to what the kids wanted.

As a result of this schedule, Deb—who seemed to be trying to polish her reputation before her kids could decide altogether that they hated her—had implemented a weekly family dinner with her kids. Neither child was too big a fan of this arrangement—Leo had taken to spending all of his free time at the arcade with his party and thought having to sit at a table for two hours was, to him, an incredible waste of time that he could spend gaming; and Lucy just plain did not like having to talk with her mother. Dinner with Deb meant two hours of choking down averagely cooked food and unpleasant conversations with her mom.

To put it simply, Deb had gone off the deep end after the divorce. Rich had picked himself up and dusted off his shoulders, but for Deb, the divorce was the beginning of the end. Lucy and Leo both knew it.

(Though Lucy had the slightest soft spot for her mother—it surely must have been difficult to discover that your husband was cheating on you with a much younger woman—but by now, she could have at least tried to mentally stabilize.)

"Ugh." Leo's nose scrunched up; he sat up on Lucy's bed to share a disgusted look with her. "Do you smell that?"

Lucy replied without taking her focus off the homework assignment on the desk in front of her. "She's making meatloaf."

"Oh, God," Leo said, dropping his head into a pillow. "She sucks at making meatloaf. Didn't she learn the last time? Or the time before that?"

"Nope," Lucy said, shaking her head. "She never learns. Do you want me to take you out for burgers later tonight, after she goes to bed?"

His face lit up. "Holy shit, yes, please—"

"Hey," Lucy said sharply, turning her head over her shoulder to glare at him. "I told you not to curse anymore. I don't care if Dustin does it."

"Whatever," he said, throwing the pillow at the back of her head. "So what are we going to talk about tonight?"

"Well, I don't want her asking about Steve anymore," Lucy said, scratching a mark on her paper much harder than she needed to. She cleared her throat and set that paper off to the side. "She can't seem to get it through her head that we're actually over—and have been for a year. And besides, he's been dating someone else for a while now—y'know, Mike's sister."

Leo's face scrunched up. "He's dating Nancy?"

Lucy nodded, her lips pursed cynically. "Yep. But what I mean to say is, I need you to help me keep her off the subject. And, while I'm thinking about it, it might be best to avoid the idea of exes overall. I think talking about Dad's new girlfriend would send Mom into another spiral."

"And that means meatloaf for dinner every night," Leo deducted, groaning. He stuck out his tongue and gagged. "How does she actually eat that stuff? I mean, it's basically dog food and expired mashed potatoes pounded together into the shape of a big cylinder of.. disgustingness."

Lucy snickered. "Good way to describe it," she granted. "I don't think you should repeat that, though."

He laughed. His walkie talkie crackled for his attention, and he reached for it, pulling out the antenna and holding it up to his ear—the staticky, urgent voice of Mike Wheeler came through the speaker: "Ajax! Do you copy? Leo? Come in, Leo!"

Lucy turned around curiously, pressing her hands against her knees and leaning forward curiously. "Is something wrong?"

He gave her a clueless look, shrugging helplessly. He held down the speaking button. "This is Leo—I copy. Over."

"Somebody beat Dustin's high score on Dig Dug! Over!"

Leo's eyes widened to comically large saucers. He grinned wider than Lucy had seen from him in a long time. "No freaking way!"

"Way!" Mike shouted. There was lots of noise in the background; Lucy figured he was at the arcade. "Get over here now! Over!"

"Woah, hey," Lucy said to Leo, holding out a hand as he tried to fly off her bed and lace up his tennis shoes. "We're about to have dinner."

"Lucy, c'mon, I gotta—"

"No, doof. You're not leaving me here alone with Mom." Lucy shook her head decisively, reaching for the walkie talkie. She cleared her throat and held down the button, speaking into the microphone, "This is, uh, Lucy—"

Mike cut her off. "Code name?"

She held back a groan. "Blondie here. Ajax has plans for dinner. He can make it by eight, 'kay? Will you guys still be there by then?"

There came a moment of pause before Mike replied. "You have to say 'Over' so I know when you're done," he said finally. "But let me check with the group. Over."

Lucy dropped the walkie talkie into her lap and looked to her younger brother, offering him a look of judgmental disbelief. "Your D&D name is Ajax? Like the cleaning product?"

He stuck out his tongue at her as the radio crackled again and she lifted it back to her ear.

"Tell Leo he can meet us at my place at eight. Over and out."

She gave her brother a look, and he nodded, holding out a hand for the walkie talkie back. She tossed it to him, then returned to her homework, tapping the eraser of her pencil against her lips as she tried once again on the calculus problem she'd been stuck on for hours by then.

"I'll take you over to Mike's after dinner," she said over her shoulder. "But you have to help Mom clean up dishes tonight."

"Deal." He beamed. "And... is your offer for burgers still good?"

She shot him a glare. "Get out of my room."

Jonathan Byers might have been one of Lucy's best friends, but she could not help the roll of her eyes as he held out an orange flyer to her, grinning like an idiot.

"You're going," he told her. "There's no room for argument, sorry."

"Jonathan," she scoffed, turning the combination lock for her locker and opening the door to shove her books in. "I don't do parties. And, now that I think about it, neither do you. What's taken over you?"

He shrugged, shaking his head casually; he tucked his hands in his pockets and shrugged innocently. "I, uh, I dunno. I mean, Nancy's making me go, so I really don't have a—"

"Nancy and Steve will be there?" Lucy kept her face hidden in her locker. "Yeah, no thanks. I'd rather stay home and eat my brother's candy."

"Come on," Jonathan begged, "I can't say no to Nancy. And if I have to go, so do you."

She scoffed and took the paper from his outstretched hand as he prompted her with a harsher shake than before. Her eyes skimmed the spooky font adorning the paper. She lifted an eyebrow to Jonathan. "Come and get sheet-faced? Seriously?"

He laughed. "Bad pun, I know. But yeah, seriously... you're coming. I already told Nancy to tell Anna that you were, so."

"Wow, Jonathan, you almost sound popular."

The smile melted off his face. "Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"

Lucy shrugged innocently, stacking books inside her locker harder than was necessary. "I'm just saying, you don't seem to recognize the fact that Nancy is in a relationship. She doesn't have feelings for you."

Jonathan's brow furrowed, offended. Shaking his head, he took a moment to think before replying. "What has gotten into you?"

She met his eyes, twisting her lips off to the side. They held eye contact for a tense moment. Finally, Lucy looked away.

"I just—" She sighed, shaking her head. "That was rude. I'm sorry. I do mean it, though, I just didn't mean to say it so harshly. That was an accident. But no, yeah, I did mean it. No. Yeah, sorry for, uh, being mean about it." She winced at her own rambling and cut herself off, shaking her head and exhaling a judgmental huff. "What I mean is, I'm sorry for being rude, but I meant what I said."

Jonathan stared at her with wide eyes beneath a creased brow. "Are you feeling okay?"

Lucy squeezed her eyes shut and covered her face with an open hand. She shook her head, disbelieving of her own idiocy. "Yeah, I'm—I'm fine. Not a lot of sleep recently, y'know. Leo kept me up last night ranting about D&D. Apparently he's reached a certain level and now has a really awesome new spell to use, or something—I don't know."

Jonathan smiled, lightly laughing at the blonde before him. He nodded, tucking his thumbs in his pockets and shrugging his shoulders. "Our brothers and their obsession with Dungeons and Dragons, right?"

She gave him a faint smile over her shoulder as she returned her attention to her locker. "Right," she agreed, her voice echoing off the metal walls and bouncing back at her discordantly. She reached for her history textbook, hidden beneath a pile of jackets, empty lip gloss tubes, and old math papers with big red F's on them. Her eyes landed on a crumpled-up flyer in the very back, a familiar neon pink color. Scribbled on it in handwriting was a polite little message: You didn't deserve Steve, stuck-up bitch!

Lucy's face stayed expressionless as she reached back and grabbed the paper, crumbling it into a ball and shoving it deep into her pocket. God, she really needed to clear out her locker more often.

Jonathan caught her shift in emotion. "You alright? What was that?"

She managed a smile, lifting her shoulders aimlessly. "Just an uplifting message from my many delightful friends."

He tilted his head to the side, blinking slowly, looking unimpressed at her sarcasm. "They still leaving notes in your locker? That was almost a year ago, Jesus—"

"No, no," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "It's probably old. But either way, it doesn't matter. I don't care."

"If you say so," he replied, though his tone gave Lucy the impression that he didn't believe her. "Look, about the party—"

She slammed her door shut, cutting him off as she turned to face him completely, leaning one shoulder against the lockers. "I'll go. You've convinced me."

Clearly pleased, with either himself or with her, Jonathan gave her a light smile, nodding. "Yeah, okay," he said. "Sounds good. I'll see you there. Also—it's a costume party, so, uh, be-sure-to-dress-up," he added all in one breath. And with that, he started off down the hall, hastily making his way away from her.

"Jonathan!" she called after him, her jaw hanging open. "You know I don't do... costumes," she finished quietly, scoffing softly to herself. Her eyes trailed down to the flyer in her hand once more and she sighed. "I guess I have to find a costume, then."

Later in the evening, after much deliberation and self-disgust, Lucy took a long look at herself in the mirror and tried not to vomit in embarrassment. Her costume had been thrown together last-minute, and it was incredibly obvious—an oversized button-up from her dad's closet, a pair of cheap sunglasses, and long white socks: Tom Cruise in Risky Business. A stupid costume for an even stupider party. The only reason she was even thinking about attending was because Jonathan told her he would be there, and Jonathan was practically her only friend; Leo was out with his friends dressed as Ghostbusters, so Lucy had absolutely no other plans.

"I'm leaving, Mom," she called, standing in the doorway, her keys hanging off her finger. She waited for a reply. When none came, she yelled again, "MOM!"

"What, baby?" came her mom's voice, probably from the kitchen where she had a large glass of wine in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

"I'm leaving!"

"Have fun!" Deb called back. "Don't get pregnant!"

"Yeah, whatever," Lucy muttered. She paused for a moment of thought, then reached out and flicked the light switch for the porch lights off. Pretty safe to say Deb wouldn't be answering the door for any trick-or-treaters. Lucy scoffed, then shut the door behind her and left for the party.

It wasn't hard to find where the party was being held; when she pulled to a stop at the end of the street, she could hear the music blasting from six houses down. She had to will herself not to get back in her car and drive home when the front door opened to a couple making out in the middle of the entryway. Somewhere, some stereo was blasting Girls On Film, but Lucy thought playing music was pointless if everyone was either talking over it or too drunk already to keep their eyes open.

She stood by the door for a second, holding her arm self-consciously. Her gaze danced around the room furtively. There was much to see, much to hear, and much to drink. She had barely made it a step into the living room before the straw to a keg was shoved in her face, along with an empty cup. Against her better judgement, she took it, holding it in front of herself as the boy holding the keg spewed beer into it.

"Lucy!" Jonathan's voice exclaimed. She turned to see him behind her, clad in a plain green jacket and jeans. Her eyes narrowed. He looked down at his outfit, then stammered, "I—uh, I didn't.. know what to wear."

"Jonathan Byers, you asshole," she said, shoving his shoulder. "You told me to dress up!"

"And you look great!" he said, gesturing to her costume. "I mean, Tom Cruise is a good look on you."

"Yeah, thanks. You could've given me a heads-up that you weren't dressing up, though. I only wore this because you told me to."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry," he said. His eyes lingered on the cup in her hand for a moment, then trailed off to gaze around the party. "Um, you know, Nancy's dressed as Lana, so you could go talk to her.. Break the ice a bit. It's just weird if you and her are awkward."

"Why is it weird?" Lucy asked nonchalantly, taking another sip of beer.

"Because our siblings are all friends," Jonathan said, his tone that of obviousness. "And if you guys can't be cool with each other, that'll make, like... birthday parties and stuff really awkward. Besides, she's.. really drunk right now."

Lucy's tongue pushed against her cheek thoughtfully. As much as she hated it, he had a point—and she could not hold a grudge for her ex finding a new girlfriend. It also was nothing like Lucy Andrews's nature to particularly dislike someone. Well, someone other than Steve Harrington.

She rolled her eyes, exhaling a heavy, put-out sigh. "Fine. I'll be right back."

He smiled at her. "She's in the kitchen. Good luck."

She raised her eyebrows curiously, starting off backwards towards the kitchen. "Why would I need luck?"

Jonathan shook his head, trying to hide his smile. "You're definitely gonna need luck."

When Lucy found her, she realized Jonathan had been wise to stay behind and not engage with a drunken Nancy Wheeler. True to his word, Nancy was dressed as Lana, complete with the black bow tied around her neck. There was a red ring above her lips from the punch she had clearly had too much of. She was stumbling around, grounding herself by gripping the counter as she reached for another drink.

"Hey," Lucy said, testing the waters. She offered a kind smile. "Hi, Nancy."

"Lucy," she said, the word slurring past her tongue. Her face contorted like Lucy's name tasted weird in her mouth. Then she seemed to realize what her costume exactly was, and her lips spread into a wide, amused smile. "Risky Business! You're Joel! Holy shit, we could be a couple!"

She laughed at her own statement, using her free hand to cover her mouth and stifle her giggles.

Lucy managed a smile. "So, uh, Jonathan told me you just—"

Nancy interrupted her, clearly not having heard a single word she'd just said. "You know, Steve's dressed as Joel, too. You guys are twins!"

"Is that right?" Lucy puffed up her cheeks and rolled onto the balls of her feet. It was stupid of her to think she could have a sophisticated conversation with Nancy when she was so many drinks in. "Um, I'll... I have to go. I'll see you later, Nancy."

"No, no, wait!" Nancy grabbed Lucy's wrist and pulled her back. "Steve's gonna lose his shit. He'll think this is hilarious. You have to show him. Look, here he comes—"

"Oh, no, Nancy, it's fine—"

"Nance, I think you've had enough," Steve was saying as he came over to the counter. He did not yet take notice of Lucy. His sunglasses were tucked on the neckline of his shirt, his hair hanging loosely around his eyes. He reached for the cup to take it from his girlfriend. "Come on."

"No, no, no," she slurred, clutching her cup and holding it close to her chest. She gestured lazily to Lucy. "Steve, look, she's—you guys are.. you're matching!"

Steve's eyes finally landed on Lucy for the first time. His brow creased in confusion, eyes blinking in confusion and surprise. "L—Lucy? I didn't.. I didn't know you were coming ton—"

Her lips pressed together in a tight, reluctant smile. "Yep. Hey."

"You're dressed as.." His gaze traveled down her body, then back up to meet her eyes in a guarded emotion that Lucy could not decipher. His lip curled up in a half-smile and he let out an almost-chuckle. "Risky Business."

She looked down at her own costume, all of a sudden feeling incredibly embarrassed. She crossed her arms over her chest. "I—I should go—"

She went to brush past him, but he stepped in front of her and held out a hand to stop her. "No, wait, Luce—Lucy, I haven't talked to you in—"

"A year," she finished, not meeting his eyes. "Best year of my life, actually."

He scoffed a laugh as though that was supposed to be funny. "You.. you look great. How have you been? Are you doing well?"

"Well enough," she said, burying her face in the rim of her solo cup and taking a long swig from the bitter beer inside. "Really, I should—Leo's probably waiting for me at home—"

"No, wait, hang on," Steve said, his brow creasing. "I just want to talk to you. To catch up."

"There's nothing to catch up on, Harrington." Her words were firm. She would not give in, no matter how much her mind was begging to break into a smile and laugh off the past year.

The bitter drink splashed around in her cup as she made to move past him. Steve called after her and reached for her hand, grabbing hold of the one not holding her cup and pulling her to a stop. She stumbled into him. Her beer sloshed over the rim of the cup and splashed onto her torso, staining her white button-up and seeping into her bare skin. She groaned, holding up her arms, looking down at the stain with contempt. She lifted her gaze to see Steve staring at the mess he made with wide eyes. He began to stammer out an apology, but Lucy cut him off sharply.

"God," she gasped, "what is wrong with you?"

His lips moved, searching for something to say to fix this. "Lucy, I'm so sorry—"

"Just leave me alone." Her voice was thick with the lump of humiliated tears stuck in her throat. Everyone's eyes were on the pair, waiting for what she was going to do in anxious anticipation. Lucy glanced around the room. Her gaze landed on Jonathan, standing in the corner and watching in frozen shock. Turning her attention back to Steve, she drew in a deep breath, then walked past him, making sure to bump hard into his side on her way.

His voice called after her as she shoved her way through the crowd. "Lucy, hang on a sec—"

She found an empty bathroom and pushed the door open, spilling across the threshold, slamming her now-empty cup on the counter and picking up the nearest washcloth to begin wiping uselessly at her shirt. The door flew open and in burst—take a guess—Steve fucking Harrington. Lucy moaned, her head rolling back in annoyance.

"God, Steve, how many times do I have to tell you to—"

"Just let me help you dry off," he said, reaching for the rag from her hand.

Suddenly aware that her white shirt was now wet and very see-through, she crossed her arms tightly over her chest and shook her head, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Just leave me the hell alone."

He held up his hands in surrender, eyes searching her face sadly. "Lucy, I just want—I don't like not having you in my life. This has been a shitty year without you, okay?"

Her face contorted in incredulity. "A shitty year? Gee, Steve, you could've fooled me. How long have you been dating Wheeler out there? What, eleven months? Compared to the twelve months since we broke up—"

"Jesus, you've changed," Steve said, dropping his hands to his side. "The Lucy I know would never—"

"Would never what, Steve?" she demanded, her chest heaving. "Would never go to a party? Would never stand up for herself? Would never break up with you? It seems to me like you maybe—just maybe—don't know me at all."

"That's not true—"

"I've been completely fine without you, Harrington! You've been back in my life for five minutes and already spilled beer on me, embarrassed me in front of everyone here, and ruined my entire night. And you won't listen when I tell you to just leave me the hell alone!"

Steve took a step back, eyes shiny and dull. "Look, I just... I just miss you, is all."

Lucy drew in a deep breath, cheeks burning, scowling at him. "Yeah, well, you'll just have to keep missing me, because I never want to see you again." She pushed past him, opening the door to the bathroom and taking a step out. "And I mean it."

She shut the door on him before he could follow.

Via Speaks

Lucy the Gagger vs Steve the Gagged

And not even in a freaky way