robin knows you’ve got a crush on her. no one else would come and sit at the bar when they can’t even drink yet. you met her through nancy, who connected you as the only two lesbians she knew. you’re a year younger than robin, graduated from hawkins high last year, as validictorian. even though you were a nerd like her, you were cool. prom queen cool. but now she’s a bar manager with a couple piercings and half a dozen tattoos, and you’re sitting at the counter drinking your third shirley temple of the night, chewing on a cherry stem. she grins. “you’re gonna have to get up to pee sometime, you know.” she teases. her rings glint in the low light when she takes your empty glass.