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cahradoxynine · 21 days ago

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interlude i | the beginning

author's note! 6,087 words hey guys, so these first couple of chapters are going to be called 'interludes'. they're basically chapters that go on between seasons, and so the first collection of interludes is set during the summer of 1984, which is after season one and before season two. my oc doesn't really have much of a role in season one, but i wanted to introduce her and her relationships to Hawkins and its people so that the season two chapters run a lot smoother. i also want you guys to get to meet her and do some character and world building before jumping into the stranger things plotline. sorry if this chapter is a little boring, but i promise that the upcoming ones have a lot more action. also, this is my first time writing or doing a fanfic or anything like that, so any and all criticism is highly appreciated! i just want to make sure that you guys enjoy this as much as i do!! okay, i'm done talking, let's get this show on the road. :)

Despite just entering June’s embrace, Hawkins had somehow already managed to fall into its relentless summer heat. Nick could feel the heft of the muggy air weighing down on her, and every breath felt like fire scorching the lining of her lungs. She spun the handle of her racket in her right hand, the smooth surface of her new overgrip twisting against the skin of her palm, before switching it to her other hand.

“Thirty-forty,” Leo called out from the other end of the court.

She watched the ball bounce against the clay ground, unsettling a thin film of dust. Nick knew his pattern like the back of her hand, practically the same way he knew hers. Three bounces, a test toss, and then he would serve.

One

Two

She spun the racket in her hand once more, watching the line of his stance just above the net, trying to pick apart his stature for a hint of what type of serve he would give her. She could feel sweat trickle down the side of her neck.

Three

Leo tossed it up and let it come down, bouncing against the ground one last time before landing perfectly in his hand. Nick licked the salt from her lips, aligned her next inhale with his toss up, and her exhale with the moment the face of his racket hit the neon Wilson. Leo’s arm followed through with his serve, his body turning with the force, but she knew it was net the second he’d swung.

Knew from the way he’d waited a second too long, knew from the way he had to shift his stance in the last second to account for it, knew from the dull thud the ball made against the strings instead of that crisp pop. Knew from the trajectory of the ball, knew from how it didn’t align with the third beat of her heart, knew from when she could feel it in her bones and when her spine instinctively slacked.

Call it experience, call it a sixth sense, call it plain overconfidence, but she knew.

Not a second later, the soft thunk of the ball hitting the net echoed across the court, followed immediately by the clattering of the net against the ground and the swoosh of the material rippling with the aftershock.

“Fuck!” Leo’s frustration sounded across the court, and, judging from how the heads in the courts swiveled in their direction, it was heard across the rest of the complex alongside the usual cacophony of tennis balls bouncing off the clay and the scrape of tennis shoes.

“Double fault,” Ruby lazily noted from her lawn chair, sipping on one of the club’s famous Fluffy Ducks. Leo’s half-finished root beer float sat on the clay, surrounded by a dark ring where the condensation had dripped onto the dust, and Nick’s frayed towel hung on the lawn chair next to Ruby’s.

Ruby turned her head from Leo to Nick, glasses sliding down her nose an inch to peer at her friend over the rims. “You wanna snag the point, or take a whack at him?”

Nick shrugged, a slow grin tugging at the corners of her lips as she cast her eyes over the net at her opponent. “I’m feeling generous today,” she teased, wiping at her hairline with her sweatband.

He scoffed, but lowered his shoulders into his ready position as she fished out her last ball from her pocket. The sweat collecting in the lines of her palm soaked into the felt, and as she bounced it against the clay, she could feel the damp weight of her wrist sweatbands.

“Forty-thirty.”

One

Two

It was generally considered ridiculous by the average onlooker, but a tennis player’s superstitions were perhaps what they held most sacred to their game. Leo’s pattern may have been predictable and memorized by the majority, but he was convinced it brought him every win in the past seven years. Nick’s pattern held the same authority over her game.

She tossed the ball up and caught it as it came down.

One

Two

Sweat dropped from the arch of her brow to the outer corner of her eyes, flooding the creases formed from squinting against the glare of the sun that beat down on them without mercy. The air around her simmered, and she took a steady breath of its humid weight.

The ball flew up directly above her in a perfect toss, her heart thumped against her ribs twice, and then her racket came down. The swing was almost flawless, the ball pinging off the center and clearing the net to bounce once in the service box before meeting Leo’s racket.

The game was on.

The volley that ensued between the two was intense; muscles rippling and tightening beneath skin as they swung their rackets, grunts echoing alongside the reverberations of the tennis ball hitting the rackets, the rasp of tennis shoes against packed dust. Ruby’s head swiveled from left to right in quick succession as her eyes tracked the neon blur, the drink in her hand forgotten in the face of their match point game.

Leo was inching closer to the net with each of Nick’s returning shots, and it gave him the advantage of better control over where the ball went on her side of the court. Nick chose to keep her distance as she waited him out rather than doing the obvious and mirroring his move. He hit a dropshot that she was waiting for, and she reached it in time to give him a passing shot that he had clearly expected based on his volley. Now, however, Nick had backtracked and was at a distance from the net where she could land a corner shot—one Leo couldn’t counter when he was so close to the net and on the other end.

She waited for the ball to approach her, waited for it to drop to the perfect height from its peak after it bounced, and swung. Her follow-through had little left to wish for, and the ball zipped across the court to land in that little corner just inside the white lines.

He tried, but even as he slid to cover half the distance, the ball kissed the clay for its second bounce, and Nick had won the set and, thereby, the match.

“Damn it!”

Heads turned again, but neither player seemed to care as they met in the middle, touching the faces of their rackets over the net in mutual respect.

“Good game.”

Leo rolled his eyes. “Yeah, for you. Something’s off with me.”

Nick shrugged as they walked down either side of the net to where Ruby sat, accompanied by the rest of their stuff. “Maybe you just suck.”

“You wish.”

“I’m five for five this month, Leo,” she countered with a roll of her eyes.

“It’s June,” Leo said, as if it were an excuse. “I always tank in June.”

“You said that about October, too,” Ruby reminded him. “Which is it: June or October?”

He cast her a glare, mean enough to make her grin. “It’s both. June and October are historically my worst months.”

“That’s saying you have good ones,” Nick snorted, grabbing her towel from where it hung on the chair and dabbing her neck with it.

“I won six out of ten last month,” Leo retorted, dropping his racket onto the same chair.

“That’s hardly a win, dude.”

“Won seven out of eight in January.”

“I was injured.”

“You pulled a muscle.”

“It hurt!”

“Oh, come on, it was just a neck strain!”

“Children, children,” Ruby placated, arms flapping in the air in a motion that conveyed for them to calm down. “Please, don’t argue. You both look lame compared to me, anyway.”

Leo and Nick raised their brows in sync, and each opened their mouths to argue, but a different voice entered the conversation before they could.

“Oh, good, you guys are wrapping up.”

Katy Irving, in all her blonde-haired and blue-eyed old money glory, strode into the court as if she practically owned the place. Actually, considering her father was one of the club’s largest donors, she did practically own the place.

“Wanna play?” Ruby asked, hoisting herself up and off the lawn chair just as Leo flopped onto it.

“No, no.” Katy waved her hand as if swatting away a tangible suggestion, and she handed Nick her traditional post-game lemonade. “I just finished helping set up for the reception, and we’re meant to be there in a couple of hours. Plus, they’re serving their best pasta primavera tonight.”

Leo’s nose wrinkled. “Is that the one with all the vegetables?”

“Don’t act like a child, Leo,” Katy chastised. “I’ve already put you all on the guest list, you’re coming.”

Nick knew better than to argue now. Katy hadn’t simply been dropping hints all week, she’d been bombing them with reminders. Every morning had been accompanied by an “Got your outfit for the reception?” or “Keep your Saturday night clear,” and every afternoon arrived with an “Make sure to get your hair and nails done by Saturday morning the latest,” or “I don’t care if you don’t want to, I’m going to drag you there by your balls if you try not showing up.” The last one was saved for Leo and his recent invite to Janet Fraser’s end-of-school rager.

Her family was famously known for traveling to the Alps during the first week of summer break, but Janet, who’d been every year since she was in 6th grade and ran out of cute ski lodge boys to hook up with, was going to fake being sick this time around. This was going to be, as she called it in her lunchroom speech on the last day, the party that made the summer.

She’d also identified every kid who was and wasn’t invited to the party by going around giving certain groups of people neon pink slips. They were adorned with her loopy nightmare of a signature, and an even more exclusive number of them had an obscene amount of hearts drawn on them, which were mainly doled out to the basketball team. Apparently, she was planning on having a couple of the football guys act as bouncers, and you could only get in if her invitation preceded your presence. Leo had practically framed and hung it up on the wall of his room, and he wouldn’t stop going gooey-eyed at the presence of a measly heart drawn in the corner. Nick’s own invite sat crumpled at the bottom of her lunchbox where she’d stuffed it, and she was beginning to wonder how much money she could make off selling it if she drew a couple of hearts on that thing.

“You two—” Katy pointed to Ruby and Nick with an air of sharp authority. “I’ve had someone steam your dresses, and they’re sitting in my room on the third floor.” Katy fished a key out of the slim pocket of her skirt and tossed it to Nick, eyeing her sun-worn, sweaty state.

Nick, however, beat her to it. “Don’t worry, I’ve got time for a quick shower, and I brought my curlers and hairspray. And my nails are totally on point.” Nick wiggled her freshly manicured fingers, which she’d meticulously kept safe during the game.

“Ooh,” Katy cooed over the shade, gently twisting Nick’s nails to catch the sunlight. “Let me guess, Nail Blush?”

“Yeah, it’s their freshest one. Ruby scored Pink Almond.”

The two turned to the third member of their trio, who held up her polished fingertips. Katy moved to inspect them in the same manner one might inspect diamonds and smiled approvingly.

“You guys never let me down.” She turned on her heel to meet the scene of Leo sipping on his previously abandoned root beer float, which was most definitely warm now. “You, however, are being a pain in my ass.”

“Dude, Janet Fraser’s bash is also in a couple of hours, and she’s gonna have a spiked punch fountain!” Leo exclaimed, but Katy was beyond sick of the same line she’d been hearing for nearly a week now.

“Yes, well, you already said you’d come to the reception before Janet announced her party,” Katy reminded him, pulling at his arm to get him off the lawn chair. “And I don’t care what kind of fountain’s going to be there, you’re coming whether you want to or not.”

Leo groaned, as if standing on his own two feet and being forced to go to a country club reception was the worst punishment on Earth, and Katy rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“Would you stop being a baby about it? You can go after, too,” she retorted, shoving him toward the tennis courts’ exit. “Also, the entire tennis team is going to be here. That’s, like, practically all of your friends in one place with all the champagne and shrimp cocktails you could possibly want.”

Leo threw his head back with another groan as he limply stumbled in the direction Katy pushed him. “Yeah, but what about Janet Fraser?” he protested, and turned back around to face them so fast that Katy couldn’t stop him. “She totally drew a heart on my invite. You know what that could mean, don’t you?!”

“Didn’t she, like, doodle seven on Marcus McBain’s invite?”

“Yeah, and my brother said he spotted them watching Against All Odds at the Hawk two nights back,” Ruby supplied, grinning like she’d just won an award at the face Leo pulled.

“They could’ve gone with friends!”

“Oh, give me a break, no one’s catching a movie like that with their friends,” Katy said as she took hold of Leo’s shoulders and turned him toward the exit once more with strength that most wouldn’t think she had just by looking at her.

“You can’t know that,” Leo shot back as they passed the pool. “It’s a total downer, alright? It’s got, like, heartbreak and stuff. If anything, it’ll have her thinking about bailing on him.”

“Nah, it’s the kinda movie you show a chick before dropping some bomb just short of ‘I love you’ to give her hope that she might not end up all lonely and bummed out like the main girl,” Nick told him with a shrug. “And then, you know, get in her pants.”

Leo made some tortured sound of disgust as he dramatically clamped his palms over his ears. “Could you not? That’s my future wife you’re talking about there! And that's exactly why I gotta get there ASAP, before McBain tries to pull some move to get her thinking he's the one for her or some shit.”

It was Ruby’s turn to roll her eyes at his theatrics. “Oh, please. The first, last, and only thing you’ve ever said to her was ‘Thanks’ when she gave you an invite.”

“And she’s a year older.”

“And I’m pretty sure that’s a stain, not a heart, on your invite.”

“Rude,” Leo stressed as Katy continued to shove him up past the doors of the large estate and into the foyer. “Rude, mean, totally not supportive, and absolutely awful friends. That’s what you guys are being right now.”

“Dude, no way,” Nick heaved, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Well, what in the world are we going to do now that you think we’re rude?”

Ruby followed suit. “Oh, gosh, how will we ever live now that the Leonard Roberts thinks we’re—” she gasped for dramatic effect “—mean.”

“And ‘totally not supportive’.”

“Don’t forget ‘absolutely awful’,” Katy joined in, and the trio broke character and cracked up at the expense of Leo. In their defense, he claimed to be in love with a new girl every month.

Leo might not have been facing them, but they could feel the harshness of his glare as they went up the first set of stairs before they got to where they split into two sets on either side. “Did I mention you guys are evil, too?”

“We’ll throw it in our memoirs,” Nick assured him with a chuckle as she and Ruby went up the set of stairs on the right to get to the third floor, where their dresses were. Leo and Katy headed up the other set of stairs so they could get to where the boys’ tennis team had two rooms on the second floor.

The girls’ tennis team, on the other hand, had been sorted out between four rooms on the third floor to account for dresses, shoes, hair products, makeup, and everything in between. Katy had taken great pains to account for their comfort, especially considering these were the varsity girls, with whom the three of them were hoping to play amongst the next school year.

Nick, Katy, Ruby, and Leo had done their time on their respective junior varsity teams, served their sentence as freshmen and sophomores, but now came junior year, and spending it on the JV team would become a death sentence. It was practically mandated that the first two years of any sport would be spent on the junior varsity team, and unless you were some Steffi Graf or Ivan Lendl or held back a year, there was no moving to the varsity team. Until, of course, junior year, when everything would either fall into place or fall completely apart.

Katy, therefore, had taken measures before they could even try out for the team, attempting to achieve a good social standing amongst the upperclassmen to ensure a smoother transition. As soon as tennis season had started, she’d given all the girls and, on Leo’s persistent requests, the boys access to her father’s country club, which had the best-kept tennis courts in Hawkins. That had scored enough points for her that they’d all decided to attend the club’s reception tonight, where they would announce the newly elected board member, and Katy’s father was in the running.

But when Janet Fraser announced her impromptu end-of-year party, Katy had thought they’d bail, especially considering Janet was a good friend to a couple of the juniors on either team. However, contrary to what she’d expected, they’d all upheld their promise and decided to go later. It was the best of signs for Katy, and now it was Ruby and Nick’s turn to curry the same sort of favor with the girls. It was also why Katy was riding Leo so hard about attending.

Nick and Ruby’s tennis skills had already earned them appreciation on the courts when they’d practiced against the varsity girls at the country club. Neither had won against the girls, although that had been on purpose when playing against a select few, but they’d played their best, and the varsity girls had appreciated how hardcore they were. Their recent win at the championship against Jordan High was also pretty convincing. Now it was time to earn their social approval.

The duo made their way to the third floor, following the royal blue carpet studded with gold insignias up the wooden stairs. Gold-plated stair rods accompanied each step, and a matching handrail ran parallel to its path as mahogany wainscoting flanked the lower portion of the wall on both sides. The upper portion of the wall was kept a neutral cream, warm enough to complement the deep brown and cool enough to keep the cold professionalism of the country club. Framed photos of old patrons playing on the sprawling golf grounds, competing on the tennis courts, lounging around the pool, dining at the indoor restaurant, and more hung from the walls.

The Loch Nora Country Club was perhaps one of the most high-end establishments in Hawkins, Indiana, and every ounce of the place screamed it from the top of its lungs.

Nick and Ruby stopped in front of room 303, which matched the key tag Lucy had given them. Just as Nick turned the key to unlock the door, a loud burst of giggles filtered their way past the door of the room across from them. Katy must’ve put all the girls in rooms next to or near one another.

“Is it weird that I’m on edge?” Ruby wondered out loud as she rubbed her palms down the material of her white skirt, staring at the now ominous-looking 304 on the door.

“It’ll be fine,” Nick assured her as she pushed their door open, though she couldn’t keep the small, nagging feeling of fear from spiking her heart rate. “They’re just juniors.”

“Wrong.” Ruby shut the door and locked it, peering through the peephole as if expecting someone. “They’re seniors now, dude. They’re kings of the school, not ‘just juniors’ anymore. They could make our lives a living hell, and all we could do is roll over and say thank you.”

“Well, that’s a little dramatic.”

“I’m serious. Remember Steph Crombie? Word is she bounced to Jordan High ‘cause she ticked off some senior and the whole varsity squad kept her off the team even though the coach was down with her.”

“I just figured it was ‘cause her folks dipped.”

Ruby rolled her eyes. “That’s totally what she wanted us to think.”

“Dude, you’re just psyching yourself out.”

Too preoccupied staring out the peephole like an owl—or some psychopath, from Nick’s point of view—Ruby didn’t deign to give her an answer. Nick sighed, marched up to her friend, and grabbed her by the shoulders to twist her away from that damn peephole. She made a mental note to patch that thing with some tape or something later.

“Look, we’ll be fine, alright? Yeah, they’re seniors, but they were juniors and sophomores like a minute ago. Plus, they know us.” Nick steered Ruby towards the bed, where two outfits were laid out for them. “They know our game, and they know how good we are. We just gotta show them who we are off the courts.”

Ruby let out a pitiful little sigh and nodded.

“That’s the spirit.” Nick patted her head in what she hoped was a comforting manner. She’d normally try to cheer Ruby a little more, but they were running low on time. “I’m gonna hit the shower and do my hair. You cool solo?”

Ruby flopped onto the bed from the other end so as not to crumple their dresses, and let out a muffled sound Nick took as a yes.

She snagged a towel from the closet and headed into the bathroom, turning on the shower to let it warm up as she shed off her tucked-in, navy blue polo with a classic V-neck, her high-cut white shorts, and the rest of her clothes. She tossed her sweatbands and socks into the hamper too, and stepped under the piping hot stream of water. The temperature wasn’t ideal considering the heat outside, but she figured it’d keep her from staying in the shower too long.

She kept her head under the spray to wet her hair and found the complimentary bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash.

They’d gotten to the courts earlier this morning and gone through a couple of practice runs with one another, which ended up in her getting sweaty and hot underneath the afternoon sun. Despite being in the off-season, the four of them, along with Richie McMurray, who was the group’s fifth member and an usher at the Hawk who regularly worked on his Saturdays, found that they couldn’t stay away from tennis long enough for the next season to come. And the country club’s tennis courts, as previously mentioned, were the best, so if one were to accurately guess where any of the five could be on a random day in the summer or fall, it was likely going to be here.

Or, if everything went right, Janet Fraser’s party later tonight.

Nick finished up in the shower and turned it off. Steam had collected in the bathroom and fogged up the mirror, and it felt dizzying to be in there for longer than she needed to with all that heat. She quickly wrapped herself up in a towel, tossed her hair around while it was still wet to give it some volume, and reached for the door.

It couldn’t have been any less than thirty minutes when she emerged from the bathroom, wrapped up and very much lightheaded, to see that Ruby hadn’t moved an inch. Nick would’ve been concerned she’d suffocated to death with her face buried in the pillows like that if she couldn’t make out the steady rise and fall of her breathing.

Steam rolled out from the bathroom and onto the wooden floor as she made her way over to Ruby.

“Rubes,” Nick prompted, moving her wet hair out of her face with one hand while keeping her towel up with the other. Ruby didn’t move. “Ruby.” Nick shook her friend, figuring she was fast asleep when she didn’t answer. “Ruby!”

Ruby’s head shot up, startling Nick for a split second.

“Yeah,” Ruby said, looking dazed as she wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth. “Yeah, I’m up. What’s up?”

“‘What’s up?’” Nick repeated incredulously. “Dude, the party’s in, like, an hour, and you haven’t moved since I left you here!”

“Oh.” Ruby swung her legs off the bed, smoothing her tight coils away from her face. She looked no more alert than before Nick’s outburst. “Okay.”

“Dude, are you good?”

Ruby’s nose scrunched, the myriad of freckles that dotted her toasted brown skin shifting. “I think that Fluffy Duck got to my head.”

“Aren’t those basically just lemonade and rum?”

“Yeah, but they always knock me out.” Ruby moved off the bed and picked up the flared white dress with a matching short-sleeved jacket. “Okay, this is fine. We’ve got an hour, minus, like, fifteen because we’re supposed to be there ten minutes early. We can do this.”

“Okay, yeah. You take the bathroom, I’ll get my crap done out here.”

“Give me a shout if you need anything.”

Ruby slipped into the bathroom and left the door open so the mirror could defog. Nick, on the other hand, made her way over to the vanity dresser and sat down to get started on her hair.

Nick’s hair was pin-straight and a deep brown, and it was only the slightest bit lighter than her mother’s because of all the time she’d spent outdoors. Giving it volume and making it look big and fluffy was an everyday battle, but Nick had become somewhat of an expert on it. She blow-dried it upside down until it was about three-quarters of the way done, and then stuck in multiple handfuls of rollers to give it some curl and texture.

While she waited for that to dry, Nick did her makeup, complete with a couple of swipes of mascara and some black eyeliner on the upper and lower lash lines to accentuate her dark eyes. She paired it with a quick dusting of gold and brown eyeshadow, and then a light coat of magenta blush on her cheekbones to account for her tawny skin tone.

Thirty minutes, a shit ton of hairspray, and a whole lot of heat damage later, Nick had somehow teased and mangled her hair into some Farrah Fawcett-style, feathered blow out. In the time she’d waited for the hairspray to set in, she dabbed on some pinkish-nude lipstick and finished it with gloss, and the last thing left for her to do was to slip into the dress still laid out on the bed.

Ruby was known to take her time on things, so she was still in the middle of her makeup routine as Nick passed the bathroom and picked her outfit up off the pristine white comforter. The dress was new, purchased just about a week ago when she’d seen it on the mannequin at Pam’s Women’s Clothing downtown, and she’d managed to snag it during a decent sale.

It was a soft lilac halter-neck dress that showed off her collarbones with a fitted bodice. A purple ribbon bow cinched the waist from where the dress gently flared out and ended right below her knees. The material was entirely breathable, made of cotton sateen, and adorned with delicate white floral designs. She added on a gold wide-cuff bracelet, a matching pair of heavy-bottom hoops, and some metallic, strappy sandals with heels.

Just as Nick had finished with her accessories, Ruby darted out of the bathroom, holding onto the bodice of her dress.

“You got any pins on you?” she asked, tugging at the material. “I’ve stuffed my bra to, like, the max, and this thing still just won’t sit right.”

“Umm,” Nick stalled, rifling through her duffel bag and coming up empty. “No. No, I don’t think so. But Katy probably does. I can go find her, if you want?”

“You sure?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m all done, anyway.” Nick tossed the bag onto the rug and nudged it out of her way with her foot. She threw her arms out to show off her dress and gave Ruby a little twirl. “How do I look?”

“Absolutely insane,” Ruby complimented, leaning back on her heels to take it all in. “You’re gonna be turning heads.”

Nick laughed. “Not really the vibe tonight, but I’ll roll with it.” She shuffled around to place a barely there kiss on Ruby’s cheek so she didn’t smudge her lipstick or upset Ruby’s makeup, and made her way to the door. “I’ll find Katy and be back in a flash.. You sit tight, okay?”

“Yeah, thanks.” Ruby re-entered the bathroom, and Nick could hear the clattering noises start back up again. “I’ll just keep cramming these tissues into my bra.”

Nick chuckled under her breath and headed out, the material of her skirt swishing against her legs as she strutted through the hallway. She’d almost made it to the staircase when someone called out her name from behind.

She turned to see Lucy Hutcheson, one of the two girls likely to be captain of the varsity tennis team next season, leaning out of her room. “Hey, Nick!”

“Hey,” Nick greeted as Lucy jogged toward her, and she tried to suppress the urge to rub her palms on her dress, even if they were starting to grow clammy. “What’s up?”

Lucy brushed her perfect blonde hair off her shoulder as she jammed her thumb behind her. “Well, you remember Sam over there, right?” Nick found it tough to peel her eyes off Lucy, but glanced that way to see Samantha Lambert, the other girl likely to be captain of the varsity team, waving to her from the doorway.

Cool. Cool, cool, cool. This was cool. Play it cool, Nick.

Ugh, too much cool.

Hurry up and answer, she’s looking at you, dumbass!

“Oh, for sure,” Nick said, in a way she hoped was coo—no, socially acceptable. “With the wicked backhand.”

“You hear that?” Lucy giggled as she gave Sam a look over her shoulder, and Nick thought maybe she’d blown it, maybe looked like too much of a suck-up, but then Sam flashed her a big grin.

“Hey, she’s not wrong,” Sam said, hands held up in surrender.

No, Nick wasn’t wrong, but she didn’t think she was right either. No offense to the girl, but Ruby’s backhand could run circles around Sam’s. Not that she’d tell her that, though.

“Well, anyway,” Lucy began, turning back to Nick now, “Sam’s brought her mom’s dress to this gig, but the threads are a little loose, if you know what I mean.”

Nick nodded along, trying not to get lost in her head about how good Lucy smelt, how good she was at tennis, how good she looked in her dress, how she was likely to be the next captain, how smart she was, how all Nick really wanted was to be the next Lucy Hutche—

“—and you guys don’t happen to have any pins, do you?”

So she wasn’t doing great at trying not to get lost in her head, but at least she’d snapped to attention at the end of that sentence.

“Oh, yeah,” Nick responded on reflex, and then caught herself. “No, uh, I mean, no. But I’m heading down to find some anyway, so I can bring you guys some, too.”

“Oh, would you?” Lucy touched her shoulder, and Nick faintly thought this must be what it was like to meet Teri Copley. “That’d be totally awesome. If you don’t mind, of course.”

“No, no, not at all,” Nick rushed out, and then internally winced at how pathetically eager she sounded. “I mean, it’s not a big deal. I’ll be back in, like, ten?”

“Yeah, that’s cool. Thanks a ton!”

“Thanks, Nick,” Sam shouted from where she stood, and Nick grinned and nodded her head.

“Yeah, no doubt. I’ll knock on your door when I’m back,” she told them, and then turned to calmly walk down the rest of the hallway, calmly round the corner, calmly get down half the stairs just in case they could see her, and then broke out into a run to get to Katy as soon as possible.

In the back of her head, Nick knew Lucy Hutcheson and Samantha Lambert and the rest of the varsity team were really only teenagers, just like the rest of them. She knew there weren't really that many differences between all of them that could justify putting them on the pedestal that they, and the rest of the high school, did other than being on a high school sports team.

But what could she say?

Katy and Ruby had gotten to her, and it might seem stupid, but if she was being honest, getting on the varsity team meant a lot to her. It wasn’t simply just the next step that she’d have to take if she planned on continuing with tennis, it was what would essentially solidify her social status and maybe open doors for scouts or something, which could then lead to a tennis scholarship and playing on the collegiate level, which then meant getting the hell out of this town.

And all of those hopes and dreams hinged on one thing right now: getting Lucy Hutcheson and Samantha Lambert a couple of safety pins.

Now, normally, heels would’ve made it hard for anyone to scale those stairs so quickly, but Nick was pretty steady on her feet, and she found that there was a delicate balance to running around on her heels. She made it to the first floor in one piece and jogged through the large foyer to get to the tearoom, where the ladies were likely having their afternoon tea accompanied by sandwiches, gossip, scones, fashion advice, and cakes before they would attend reception. Katy attended with her mother, and both of them had a tradition of doing so on Saturdays ever since Katy had been old enough to stick her pinky out when holding a teacup.

Nick was just about to turn the corner when her eyes tracked a flutter in the shadows and light that fell upon the black and white tiled floor. She knew someone was just around the corner before her mind could even process, and every sense became hyper-aware of the signs. The faint scent of cologne tickled her nose, the echo of a footstep reached her ears, and the tip of a deep walnut dress shoe peeked out from just behind the wall.

Years of tennis had sharpened Nick’s reflexes, and she was quick enough to will her feet to skid to a stop, but she didn’t factor in the heels. Turns out heels and tennis shoes had very distinct properties, and the same pressure and lag she normally used on the court apparently worked differently here and now.

Her heels buckled under the strain she put them under, and there was a split-second choice to be made between either outright falling on her face or stumbling forward. She chose the latter, and just as whoever was on the other side cleared the wall, she squeezed her eyes shut as she practically ran right into him.

Her temple harshly knocked into the sharp line of this guy’s jaw, her shoulder slamming into his firm chest before the rest of her did as they collided. It took a couple of seconds, but the man was quick to steady both of them with a hand on her other arm and a couple of steps backward, and her hand flew up to her head where there was sure to be a bruise forming.

“What the h—Nick?”

author's note! who dat?

── .⋆˙⟡ part of my series: cola and hairspray

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