#stobinmonth2025

This was stupid. It's been six years, of course he was never coming back. He probably doesn't even remember her. She was just some girl that turned up once a year for a week at a time.

She hears another car pull up behind the house next door, and their place has been grand central station. This time it's another dark-haired guy that the long-haired one is immediately pawing at, much to the complaints of the others.

Then, the newcomer turns and looks towards her house. 

Steve.

At least, she thinks that's Steve. He just grew up. Has a better haircut.

Robin feels frozen to the porch swing, unsure if he can see her or not. If he'll even remember her if he can.

"Robin?!" he yells, then comes darting across the sand. She stands, crosses the porch and throws open the door.

She barely makes it out onto the deck before she's wrapped up in a big hug, "Robin Buckley! I didn't think, I mean, I knew it was a long shot when I rented this other house, but it's you! You're you!"

She's her. And he's him. She starts to cry. She really never thought she'd see him again.

"Robin's here!" Steve yells and the rest of them cheer, like they were totally in on this as a possibility. 

He didn't forget.

He wanted to see her too.

Later, after all the introductions have been made, Robin joins them around the fire they've built. Eddie, Steve's boyfriend, and boy was she delighted to find that out, is in a band and have finally made enough for a real vacation.

Steve planned for it to be here, over spring break, hoping to see her.

Jeff is picking out a soft tune on his guitar, and they are all razzing him, saying it's not metal enough, but before long, two more guitars are fetched from the house and Gareth's beating on an upside down bucket. Diana in the sand, resting her head against his thigh, seemingly unconcerned with the flailing of his arms.

Trusting he won't hit her. 

The music's a little aggressive, but they blend well. 

Steve leans into Robin's side, explaining, "They're a heavy metal band."

"They're good at this," she says. She can't believe this is really Steve. It feels like they haven't missed a day.

"And they know it, despite the bitching. Don't let them fool you, they aren't that cool. They did a bit of wedding band gigging early on to make ends meet."

She giggles, delighted by the image of that.

"I like Eddie," she says.

"I was kinda worried you'd, like, disapprove."

"Hello? I like girls, dingus. I figured that was always obvious."

"Not that obvious," he says, and she laughs. He was never the most observant kid on earth.

"Where'd you wind up, you just disappeared?" she asks.

"Boarding school," he answers, and she reaches over and squeezes his hand.

"I'm sorry," she says, and she is. 

"Well, it made me into a boy kisser," he teases, and she leans on his shoulder, and giggles.

"It did not."

"It didn't, but it may have put jumper cables on my bisexual awakening."

She smiles, "Are you happy now?"

And Steve looks over at Eddie, riffing back and forth with his band, "Very."

Robin smiles, "He's kinda feral."

"Well, that's his best quality," Steve teases, adding, "They're playing in a bar down the beach tomorrow night. I hope you'll come."

She nods. She'll go anywhere he wants her to this week, as long as she gets to see Steve again.

The next night, Steve's walking around the small venue, and she realizes he's somehow in charge of this dog and pony show. Robin sits at a table with Diana, and waits for the band to get started.

Robin can see Eddie and Gareth jumping up and down, just off-stage, bumping chests.

Diana rolls her eyes, but she's clearly fond, "It's tradition. I don't ask questions."

Robin likes traditions. Finds comfort in them.

And as Corroded Coffin is announced, Steve settles in the wings where she can see him. He grew up. They both did, and now she hopes they can make new traditions with friends, together.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries, check out @corrodedcoffinfest to read takes on Spring Break prompts, or to offer up your own!

He can hear their conversation better as they come in and clamber around in the entry, shucking shoes and jackets.

"But it's like, post-apocalyptic! Doesn't that make it cool?"

"Nothing makes it cool. It's Hawkins High."

"Post-apocalyptic Hawkins High."

"It really doesn't count if the school was literally 100% untouched."

"Think about the stories you can tell your kids," Steve insists. "Prom at the end of the world."

"One, the world didn't end. Two, it's not 'at the end of the world' if it's an entire year later and they've had plenty of time to clean up."

They round the corner into the kitchen and spot Hopper standing at the counter.

Robin blinks, but Steve sails by him to grab a cupcake from the refrigerator.

"They're carrot, you want one?"

She does. She and Steve peel the wrappers nearly in sync and when they shoot for the trashcan, both of them miss.

Hopper clears his throat and says, "No prom then, for you two?"

They glance at each other and Steve quickly swallows to say, "Who says I'd go with her?" like Hopper had suggested he take the Loch Ness Monster to the school dance.

Robin squawks around a mouthful. "You wouldn't go with me?" she manages to say.

And Hopper just raises an eyebrow. "In my day, boyfriends and girlfriends went together to that kind of thing."

They both seem to realize something at the same time and they rush to correct him.

"No, Hopper, I can't believe you don't know--"

"Chief Hopper, with all due respect, I would rather eat glass."

He takes a long drink from his mug.

"So you're just over here all hours of the day and night because…"

"We're best friends. Like, soulmate level."

"She's my platonic soulmate, it's a thing."

"You two are 'a thing.'" Hopper hums. "I know what that means."

Steve rolls his eyes and Robin considers him seriously.

"If we're an item, I want it on the record that you never even asked me out."

Hopper nods. "It's disrespectful, son."

Steve glares at them both in turn while he slowly drops to one knee.

"Robin, will you be my girlthing?"

She puts on a convincing display of outrage. "No!" she says. "Apparently I've been your girlthing this entire time. You've been taking advantage of my feminine virtues or something probably."

"I would never!"

"Some boything you turned out to be." She puts her nose in the air which must be some kind of cue for Steve, who grabs at one of her hands like a lifeline and places a kiss to the back of it. She abruptly drops her regal poise to smack him across the shoulders and say, "Did you really fucking lick me? Are you twelve?"