The air is sticky-hot as he weaves through a mass of tangled bodies. Tries to tamp down on the beat of his anxious heart as it threatens to bubble over with each door he open-closes. Each time his shouts go unanswered.
Feels the knot loosen, fall slack when he finally finds her. Curled up in a tub of all things. Eyes wet, glazed from too much alcohol, mascara dripping. Closes and locks the door behind him, steels himself for whatever this is.
Her head lolls to the side, squints her vibrant blue eyes. She grins. “-evie, you found me!”
“Yeah, you, uh- what’s going on? I saw Vickie leave.”
He watches as her lips tremble and oh no.
He’s dropping to his knees before he can blink. Leaning over the tub. She’s gripping a bottle of something, like it's the only thing holding her afloat. Steve reaches, pushes her sweaty bangs from her face.
“Hey it's okay, you're okay.” He folds his arms over the rim of the tub, settles in. “What happened?”
“Nothin’. Just lemme be drunk in the, uh, bathtub. ‘s cozy.”
“It doesn't look very cozy. If I'm being honest.” Steve sits with her, the music outside muffled by the closed door. He waits, watches as she cradles the bottle tightly to her chest, the way her lip continues to tremble.
“‘s just not fair.” She picks at the bracelets on her arm. Steve reaches for her hand, grip loose but there, lest she start chewing on the leather bands he bought her. A habit formed after Starcourt.
“Vickie, she- she got back with Dan.”
“And she said, like, She was like-” Steve feels the wetness of her tears drip, drip, drip onto their intertwined hands. “She was so happy Steve!”
“She said I was such a good friend.” Robin sniffs. “I'm the worst!”
“I am! I'm a terrible friend.” She's sobbing now, body shaking with it. Steve's never seen her this upset before. It breaks his heart.
“I wanted it to be me.” Her voice sounds so small, so quiet as she says, “It's never gonna be me.”
“Oh Robbie.” Steve pulls the bottle from her. Thinks of a different bathroom floor and molotov cocktails and fire. “You're a good friend.” He hands her some tissue, finds a washcloth, wets it, helps her clean up.
“So, no Vicki then. So what.” Robin lets out a pained sound.
“Listen, somewhere out there, there is a girl who's gonna choose you. Who's gonna laugh at your terrible jokes and-
“-listen to you blab on about Latin.”
“Uh, sure, exactly. Listen to you talk about Latin pigs.”
Robin snorts. Finally cracks a grin. Eyes still shining with unshed tears.
“And she's gonna love you, Robbie. She's gonna love you so much, okay? You'll find her. Or, maybe, she'll find you.”
“I promise.” He holds up a pinky for her to take. “Pinky swear it.” And she finally laughs, the sound of it loud and bright.
“Anoth- Another one for the books.”
Steve knocks his head to hers and laughs. “Is that what we're calling it now?”
“Yup, and while we're at it we could add, a, uh, ‘nother one to it.” She's grinning a little too sharply now and Steve is already making exit plans of how to get her downstairs to drink some water. His head is starting to pound.
“I've heard some, hmm, rumors. From some very rep- reputable sources.”
“I heard that you're getting awfully chummy with a certain metalhead.”
“Nope, we're not doing this.”
Hah! Erica says you've been reading him The Hobbit. Stevie! The Hobbit. And!” She jabs a finger into his chest, “That you offered to take him to physical therapy.”
Steve feels his cheeks heat as he pulls her from the tub. Knows she notices from the way she clings and shrieks in his good ear. “Let's keep the crises to one a day please. Or rather once a month. A year even.”
“Tomorrow then?” Robin's grin lights up the dark corners of the bathroom, radiant as the sun.