The chaos of Hawkins never really stops—especially not when you’re the one who somehow ends up fixing the busted radio tower the Party insists on using. You’re elbow-deep in wires and static-crackling transmitters when you feel her eyes on you again.

Nancy Wheeler.

Sharp. Determined. Beautiful in a way that makes your stomach flip even when she pretends she isn’t staring.

Steve and Jonathan are both scrambling up the radio tower like it’s a competition for her attention—loudly competing, actually—but Nancy barely glances up. She’s too busy watching the way your hands move as you tighten a bolt, too busy stepping closer like she wants to understand every detail you’re touching.

Arms folded. Eyes narrowed—not at them, but at you. Watching the way your brow furrows in concentration, the way your sleeves are rolled up, the way you push a stray hair out of your face with your wrist.

Robin murmurs from where she’s sitting on a toolbox, “They’re basically fighting to the death up there.” Then, with a smirk: “You gonna tell them she’s been staring at you for the last ten minutes?”

Nancy pretends she didn’t hear that. Her cheeks say otherwise.

She kneels down beside you, voice low. “Is… there anything I can help with?”

“Uh… maybe keep them from falling to their doom?” you tease.

Her eyes flick up briefly—just long enough to confirm Steve is ignoring every rule of gravity—but she looks back at you almost instantly.

“I think they’ll survive.” Then, softer— “I’m more interested in what you’re doing.”

The tower creaks above, Steve shouting something triumphant, Jonathan grumbling—yet Nancy doesn’t look away from you.

In a town full of monsters, mysteries, and boys desperate for her attention… Nancy Wheeler seems to have found something far more interesting.

You.