It´s been almost half a year since Robin and Vickie broke up. It had not been nasty, that´s why it hurt so much.

Vickie had earned a scholarship from one of those fancy prestigious schools. Medicine, nothing less. Massachusetts had very good medical colleges. She didn´t understand why Vickie had to go so far, and she would be lying if she said she wasn´t completely heartbroken. The breakup wasn´t immediate; they had tried to keep in touch. But dealing with uni, neither of them seemed to find time for eachother, much less if one of them was studying medicine.

At least Robin knew that Vickie would be happy, she had always inclined towards helping those in need, whether it was as a volunteer in a charity with sick people, or at Hawkins hospital.

Anyhow, you and her had clicked instantly ever since uni started. You had a lot of things in common. The friendship bloomed with the force of a dandelion breaking trough pavement.

She had seen you at your worst, and you helped her trough hers-including piles of used up tissues, and swollen noses after crying about Vickie.

You thought, though, that it had gone on for way too long. She would probably mourn her ex-lover for the rest of her life- if you had allowed her. Which didn´t happen, not on your watch. You tossed a pretty fit on her face and got dressed in your own, before practically dragging her to the most popular club of the town.

Maybe you didn´t think about the fact that a mourning (queer-in-the-eighties) hopeless romantic and alcohol were not a good mix at all.

You danced, colored lights cascading and bathing your surroundings as you movedt to the music, face to face and grinning like two idiots that were having too much fun just by dancing. You were glad to see her smiling for once- the sadness almost gone from her face.

Then your song plays- Guess, by Charlixcx, ft Billie Eilish. And given the heated apmosphere from a bunch of people crowded in the same room and how tipsy you were, It didnt take much for you to give it all on the dance floor. Your hips swayed with the song -and blame the alcohol if they brushed a bit too often against Robin´s front, or if you didn´t say a word when her hands ended up on your hips.

*Not even when her index fingers slipped trough the hem of your skirt to tug at the thin strings of your under wear.