Honestly I haven’t really been paying attention to the whole episode 9 / “Conformity Gate” discourse, but—
if they were in the Upside Down and episode 8 was Vecna’s vision… wouldn’t it have made way more sense for Vecna to actually win?
Like. Full devastation. No hope. Everyone panicking.
And then a secret episode reveal that it was all a vision—
full The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn – Part 2 style, where we all think the fight is real and then—psych—never happened.
Just saying. That would’ve ruined me in the best way.
>>>Thank you for reading! Please comment and let me know if you want to be tagged in future updates of this story. I post a new chapter each Monday, Wednesday and Friday!
The Hendersons' house buzzed with childhood energy, and the high-pitched laughter of the two six-year-olds echoing from room to room. Dustin Henderson, a heavier set boy with tight, springy curls that seemed to have a life of their own, darted across the living room in his dinosaur-patterned pajamas, clutching a half-inflated balloon. His gap-toothed grin widened as he whipped it into the air, his movements brimming with the endless energy of youth.
Across from him, Mike Wheeler, taller, lanky, and with straight, dark hair that constantly flopped into his wide, curious eyes, scrambled to catch the balloon before it hit the floor. His cheeks were flushed from laughter, and his striped socks slid comically on the hardwood floor as he dove for the prize.
The faint clinking of dishes came from the kitchen, where Claudia Henderson hummed a tune over the sink, the sound blending with the chaos of the living room. Another balloon POPPED with a sharp crack, causing both boys to freeze for a split second before erupting into uncontrollable giggles, their laughter filling the house with a pure, unrestrained joy.
"Did you see that?!" Dustin exclaimed, doubling over as he clutched his sides.
"Yeah! You totally exploded it!" Mike gasped between laughs, collapsing onto the carpet with a dramatic flair. The two rolled around like puppies, their joy uncontainable, the balloon forgotten as their attention was pulled to the front door creaking open, and the sound of Joyce Byers’ cheerful voice filled the Hendersons’ house. “We’re here! Sorry we’re late—the car wouldn’t start again!” she called, ushering her children inside. She carried a brightly wrapped gift under one arm and balanced a plate of brownies in the other.
Trailing behind her were Jonathan and Joanna, both ten but strikingly different in presence. Jonathan hung back slightly, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he clutched a Polaroid camera close to his chest. He surveyed the lively scene with quiet curiosity, already composing shots in his mind. Joanna, on the other hand, burst through the doorway like a firecracker, her wild curls bouncing with every step. Her untied shoelaces slapped against the floor as she waved a handmade card in the air.
“Where’s the birthday girl?!” Joanna shouted, her voice carrying easily over the chaos. Without waiting for an answer, she charged into the living room, nearly colliding with Mike and Dustin. Will, sticking close to Jonathan’s side, smiled shyly at his friends before letting go of his brother’s hand and running to join them.
In the kitchen, Claudia greeted Joyce with a warm hug, while Donna peeked in from the living room. “Happy birthday, Donna!” Joyce said brightly, setting the plate of brownies on the counter. Donna smiled, her hands clasped behind her back, her charm on full display even at ten. “Thanks, Mrs. Byers!” she chirped, her eyes darting toward the gift Joyce had brought.
Nancy Wheeler, already perched at the edge of the couch in a neatly pressed floral dress, gave Joanna a raised eyebrow as her friend skidded to a stop beside her. “You’re going to trip and break your neck one day,” Nancy said matter-of-factly, smoothing the skirt of her dress.
“Only if I’m lucky!” Joanna shot back with a mischievous grin, flopping down next to Nancy and immediately yanking the neatly arranged throw pillows onto the floor.
Barb Holland, sitting cross-legged on the carpet with a book in her lap, glanced up from her reading. “Donna, is this going to be another one of those parties where Joanna gets us all in trouble?” she asked, her skepticism evident even at four years old.
Donna laughed, plopping down between Nancy and Joanna, her mustard yellow cardigan slipping off one shoulder. “Always. That’s what makes it fun.” She tugged Joanna’s curls playfully. “And we love her for it. Right, Nancy?”
Nancy sighed dramatically, but a small smile tugged at her lips. “I guess.”
As the four girls sat together, their differences became as clear as their bond was strong. Donna, with her quick wit and magnetic energy, effortlessly drew them all in. Joanna, with her bold and impulsive nature, kept them on their toes. Nancy’s steady, practical demeanor grounded the group, while Barb’s quiet wisdom and thoughtful observations added depth beyond their years.
Meanwhile, in the living room, Jonathan had slipped off to take pictures, snapping candid shots of Dustin and Will trying to outdo each other with balloon tricks. He lingered near the edge of the room, content to observe from a distance while Joanna’s laughter rang out like a bell, loud and uninhibited.
Joyce, watching from the kitchen, exchanged a knowing look with Claudia. “It’s funny, isn’t it?” Joyce said, smiling softly. “How they’re all so different, but they just click.”
Claudia nodded, her gaze lingering on Donna as she leaned into the group of girls, her birthday crown slightly askew on top of her head as her two uneven pig-tails held shield her tight brown curls from her face. “Yeah. They balance each other out. Just like siblings, in a way.”
It was a modest celebration, but to Donna, it felt like the world had come together just for her. Yellow and pink streamers crisscrossed the ceiling in a haphazard pattern—a collaborative effort by Dustin and her father, Robert that somehow added to the charm. The centerpiece of the room was the birthday cake, a slightly lopsided chocolate creation with “Happy Birthday, Donna!” written in bright green frosting by Claudia. In the corner, a cluster of balloons bobbed gently, one shaped like a dancer mid-leap drawing her attention to it all afternoon.
“Okay, next up: musical chairs!” Robert’s booming voice announced as he clapped his hands.
The kids scrambled to set up the chairs, their energy infectious. Jonathan Byers quietly stepped in, adjusting the arrangement with the precision of someone determined to avoid any mishaps. Nancy hovered nearby, already calculating her best strategy, her mind hard at work. Joanna, meanwhile, was too excited to plan, practically bouncing in place as she urged everyone to hurry up.
The record player crackled to life, filling the room with the upbeat rhythms of ABBA’s Dancing Queen.
The kids circled the chairs, their faces a mixture of focus and playfulness. Joanna danced with exaggerated Broadway-style flair, her arms outstretched dramatically. Dustin and Will were giggling uncontrollably, their movements clumsy as they tried to keep up.
Barb hung back hesitantly, her practicality telling her this might not be her game. Donna wouldn’t have it. She grabbed Barb’s hand and pulled her into the circle. “Come on, Barb! It’s fun!”
The first round ended with a dramatic flop from Mike, who missed a chair and landed on the floor with a theatrical groan. “I’ve been betrayed by my legs!” he cried, earning laughter from everyone, including a rare chuckle from Jonathan.
The music started again. Dustin, ever the joker, decided to turn the game into his own performance. He wiggled his hips dramatically, throwing in a few exaggerated spins. Donna and Will couldn’t stop laughing at his antics, but his theatrics proved to be his downfall. When the music stopped, Dustin froze mid-pose, realizing too late that he was out of reach.
“Nooo!” he cried, collapsing to the floor in mock defeat.
Will patted him on the back, ever the peacekeeper. “You almost had it, Dustin.”
Dustin grinned, brushing it off. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be your personal cheerleader now!”
Jonathan, more deliberate than the others, moved steadily around the circle. But his lack of aggression cost him. When the music stopped, he was just a step too far from the nearest chair.
He shrugged, offering a small smile. “Guess I’m out.”
Joanna threw her hands in the air, teasing him. “Jonathan, where’s your fire? You’ve gotta want it!”
He chuckled softly, retreating to the sidelines. “I’ll leave the glory to you.”
As the circle tightened, Barb moved cautiously, staying close to the chairs with calculated steps. Joanna, in contrast, leapt and twirled like she was performing for a packed theater. The music stopped, and chaos erupted. Barb hesitated just a fraction too long, and Joanna slid into the last chair with a victorious grin.
“Sorry, Barb!” Joanna exclaimed, though her grin made it clear she wasn’t sorry at all.
Barb laughed softly, shaking her head. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this game anyway.
The final three—Nancy, Joanna, and Donna—circled the last two chairs. Nancy moved with sharp precision, her steps deliberate and controlled. Joanna, ever the firecracker, was unpredictable, bouncing and twirling like a whirlwind. Donna found herself weaving between their two extremes, her movements graceful and fluid.
When the music stopped, Donna found herself just a second too slow. She laughed, stepping back. “I’ll cheer for you guys!”
Nancy and Joanna faced off, the room buzzing with excitement. Joanna’s energy was electric, her eyes fixed on the prize. Nancy remained calm and collected, her every step measured.
The music started, and they began circling the last chair. Joanna threw in dramatic spins, her arms flaring out like a star on stage, while Nancy moved with quiet focus.
When the music stopped, it was almost too close to call. Joanna dove for the chair, nearly knocking it over, but Nancy was quicker. She slid into place with practiced ease, adjusting the skirt of her dress as if the win had been inevitable.
Joanna threw her hands up in mock outrage. “Nooo! I was so close!”
Nancy smirked, tilting her head playfully. “Close, but not close enough.”
The room erupted in cheers. Dustin ran up to Nancy, bowing dramatically. “All hail the Queen of Chairs!”
Joanna laughed, shaking her head. “Rematch next year. I’ll take the crown!”
Nancy rolled her eyes, a rare grin spreading across her face. “We’ll see.”
Donna stood back, clapping for her friends as a wave of warmth washed over her. The house was filled with life, the kind of joy that lingered long after the music stopped. This wasn’t just a game—it was a memory, one they’d all carry with them, tucked away like a cherished keepsake.
While the lively sounds of Dancing Queen and the children’s laughter filled the living room, the kitchen was a world apart. Claudia leaned against the counter, arms crossed, her eyes following the movement of her hands as they idly traced patterns on the edge of a dish towel. The faint hum of the refrigerator and the occasional burst of laughter from the party were the only sounds accompanying her.
Robert entered quietly, the small velvet box tucked discreetly in his hand. He glanced at Claudia and hesitated for a moment before stepping closer.
“You’ve been hiding out,” he said softly, his tone teasing but gentle.
Claudia glanced up, offering a tired but warm smile. “Just taking a breather. It’s a good party.” Her gaze flicked toward the doorway, where the sound of Donna’s laugh spilled into the room. “She’s happy. That’s what matters.”
Robert leaned against the counter beside her, the easy camaraderie of years of shared experience settling between them. “She’s more than happy. She’s glowing.” He paused, looking at Claudia. “That’s because of you, you know.”
Claudia scoffed lightly, shaking her head. “Don’t give me all the credit. You’re the one who went overboard with the balloons.”
He grinned. “Hey, every party needs a little pizzazz. Besides,” he added, lifting the small box into view, “I still have my ace in the hole.”
Claudia’s expression softened as she eyed the box, her hands falling still. “You’re really giving it to her today?”
Robert nodded, his grin fading into something more thoughtful. “She’s old enough now. And I want her to have it while it still feels like... a gift, not a memory.”
Claudia swallowed hard, her arms tightening across her chest. Her smile wavered, and for a moment, her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “She’s going to love it.” Her voice was steady but thick with emotion.
“I hope so,” Robert said, opening the box just enough for Claudia to glimpse the delicate silver chain and the tiny ballerina pendant. The charm sparkled faintly in the warm kitchen light.
Claudia reached out, brushing a finger over the pendant. “She’ll treasure it. She always treasures what you give her.”
Robert closed the box gently and turned to face Claudia fully. “You know,” he began, his voice dropping to a quieter, more intimate tone, “I couldn’t do this without you. You’ve held everything together—Donna, Dustin, this house, me.”
Claudia laughed softly, the sound equal parts humor and disbelief. “You’re giving me too much credit. Half the time, I’m just winging it.”
“Yeah, well,” Robert said with a lopsided smile, “you’re a pretty good wingman.” He reached out, squeezing her hand briefly.
For a moment, they stood in silence, the sounds of the party washing over them like a distant tide. It was a rare moment of stillness in their busy, complicated lives—a reminder that even in the chaos of parenthood and the challenges of the day to day, they still had these fleeting moments of partnership.
Claudia exhaled deeply and straightened, her smile returning with more certainty. “You better get back out there before they wonder where you are.”
Robert nodded, holding up the box. “Wish me luck.”
“You don’t need it,” Claudia said, her voice warm. “She’s going to remember this forever.”
As Robert walked back into the living room, Claudia lingered for a moment longer. She wiped at her eyes quickly, then turned to the sink, letting the sound of the children’s laughter fill the quiet once more. The sound of Robert’s footsteps faded and the joyful clamor of the living room grew louder, as Claudia stayed rooted to the spot, her fingers clutching the edge of the countertop. The laughter filtering through the walls was bright and warm, but it couldn’t quite drown out the hum of her own thoughts.
She let out a shaky breath, brushing a stray curl from her face as her gaze fell on the sink full of dishes. It wasn’t that the task was daunting; it was that it felt so normal, so mundane, against the weight of the day.
Her mind wandered to Donna, who was somewhere in the other room, likely glowing under the adoration of her friends and the excitement of the party. Claudia smiled softly, though it was tinged with sadness. Donna was growing up so fast—too fast.
Ten years old already, Claudia thought, her heart tightening. It feels like just yesterday she was toddling around, holding onto my legs while I tried to cook dinner.
She thought of Robert’s words: You’ve held everything together. It had felt like a compliment, but it also felt like a mirror held up to all the ways she hadn’t. She tried her best every single day, but there were nights she lay awake, wondering if her best would ever be enough.
The necklace Robert was about to give Donna brought a lump to her throat. She could still remember the day he’d bought it—how he’d come home from work with a mischievous smile, holding the little velvet box behind his back like he was hiding a secret.
“Just a little something,” he’d said then, “for when she’s older and ready for it.”
It had seemed so far away at the time. Claudia had teased him about being sentimental, but now she wished she’d held onto that moment a little longer. Life had seemed so steady then, so solid. She hadn’t known how quickly the ground could shift beneath her feet.
Claudia blinked quickly, brushing away the tears that threatened to spill. She couldn’t let herself go there—not today, not on Donna’s birthday. This day was for her, and she deserved every ounce of happiness.
She straightened her posture, forcing herself to take a deep breath. She looked toward the doorway, where the laughter seemed to pulse with life.
You’re doing okay, she told herself, the words more of a plea than a reassurance. They’re happy. That’s what matters.
Claudia closed her eyes and let the ache wash over her, just for a moment.
When she opened them again, the sounds of the party pulled her back. Donna’s laugh rang out above the others, pure and bright, and Claudia couldn’t help but smile.
“She’s happy,” she whispered to herself, as if saying it aloud might make it feel more real. She grabbed the dishrag and wiped her hands, composing herself before stepping back into the dining room. The party wasn’t over yet, and there was still so much joy to be shared.
Sunlight streamed through the sheer curtains of the Hendersons’ home. The faint scent of freshly baked cake lingered in the air as Donna sat cross-legged on the carpet, a rainbow of wrapping paper scattered around her as she eagerly unwrapped her birthday gifts. At ten years old, she was the picture of joy—her wavy hair clamped beneath a birthday crown and tied into two uneven pigtails with bright yellow ribbons that matched her sunny smile, her cheeks flushed with excitement. Dustin was beside her, clutching a box he was clearly dying to open himself.
Around her were her best friends—Nancy, Joanna, and Barb—all giggling and whispering to each other as they watched her unwrap another gift. Dustin bursting with energy beside her, tugging on his best friend Will's sleeve and whispering secrets. Mike was busy trying to poke holes into the balloon animal Nancy had carefully crafted earlier, much to her irritation.
Jonathan stood off to the side near the record player, isolating himself from all the commotion quietly flipping through the Hendersons’ modest vinyl collection.
Robert was seated on the couch, cradling the small velvet box in his hands. His smile was soft, the kind of smile that held the weight of the moment in a way only a parent could understand. Claudia, ever the multitasking mother, moved in and out of the kitchen, chatting with Karen Wheeler and Joyce while keeping an eye on the kids.
“Alright, Donna,” Robert said, leaning forward. “Time for the final gift. This one’s special.”
He looked at her with a warmth that could have melted the hardest heart.
Donna’s eyes widened as she took the box. She opened it carefully, her fingers trembling with a mix of anticipation and curiosity. Inside was a delicate silver necklace, the charm of a dancer mid-spin catching the light like a tiny star.
Her jaw dropped. "Dad, it’s beautiful!"
Robert grinned, his expression a mixture of pride and tenderness. "I saw it in a shop downtown. You’ve been working so hard in dance class, Donna. I thought you deserved something special to remind you how proud I am of you." He gestured to the charm. "Whenever you wear this, remember that I’m always cheering for you, no matter what."
Donna felt her chest swell with happiness as she gently lifted the necklace out of the box. "Can I wear it now?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Of course," Robert replied, standing up to fasten it around her neck. "There. Perfect."
Donna jumped up as her father fastened the necklace around her neck, the charm resting lightly against her collarbone. She twirled in the middle of the room, the delicate dancer charm catching the sunlight with every spin.
“It’s perfect for you, Donna,” Nancy said, stepping closer. Her sharp eye immediately noticed the intricate details on the charm. She leaned in, her expression thoughtful. “The engraving is so precise. It’s like a tiny work of art.” She smiled, a little shyly, but her admiration was genuine. “It’s beautiful. Just like your dancing.”
Joanna standing beside Nancy, bounced on her toes radiating excitement. “Ugh, I’m jealous! That is so cool, Donna!” she exclaimed, reaching out but stopping just short of touching it. “It’s like... when you’re famous one day and performing in New York or something, you’ll wear this on stage, and we can all say we were there when it all started!” She grinned, her enthusiasm so infectious that Donna couldn’t help but laugh.
Barb Holland hung back for a moment, her caution making her hesitate. But then she stepped forward, her eyes fixed on the charm. “It’s really special,” she said softly, her voice steady and sincere. She met Donna’s gaze, her lips curving into a rare smile. “Your dad knows you so well. It’s not just pretty—it’s you.”
Nancy nodded in agreement, ever practical. “You should keep it safe, though. Don’t wear it when we’re outside playing or something.”
Joanna groaned dramatically. “Nance, she just got it! Let her show it off!”
Barb chuckled quietly, the corners of her mouth lifting. “She has a point, though. But maybe don’t listen to us right now. It’s your birthday, after all.”
Donna’s heart swelled as she looked at her friends, each of their words weaving a moment she knew she’d treasure forever. She fingered the charm lightly and grinned. “Thanks, guys. I’m never taking it off.”
Joanna gasped, throwing her hands in the air. “Never ever? Even in the shower?”
Nancy rolled her eyes, muttering, “Joanna, that’s not what she means.”
Barb shook her head with a quiet laugh. “Some things never change.”
From the kitchen doorway, Claudia paused her conversation, a faint smile playing on her lips. But her eyes flickered with something deeper—an unspoken worry, a weight only she carried.
Jonathan adjusted the record player, and soft music began to play. Nancy and Joanna grabbed Donna’s hands, pulling her into an impromptu dance while the boys watched, laughing at their dramatic spins. Dustin and Will tried to mimic their movements but quickly dissolved into a pile of giggles. Even Barb was coaxed into joining, a rare and fleeting moment of carefreeness.
The house was filled with laughter, music, and the lighthearted joy of childhood.
“Promise me one thing,” Robert said as Donna’s spinning slowed. He knelt in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “No matter what happens, keep dancing. Never stop.”
Donna beamed, her energy radiating confidence and certainty. “I promise!”
“Alright, everyone! Gather around!” Robert’s voice cut through the chatter, carrying a playful edge that immediately drew the kids’ attention. His grin was wide and full of mischief, promising something exciting. “It’s time for the talent show challenge!”
Donna’s eyes lit up, and she clapped her hands in delight. “Yes! I’ve been waiting for this!” Her feet practically bounced off the floor as her enthusiasm radiated through the room.
The kids shuffled into the living room, jostling each other with friendly elbows and nudges as they arranged themselves in a semi-circle around the makeshift stage. It was nothing more than a cleared space in the middle of the room, outlined with brightly colored masking tape, but to them, it felt like a real performance hall.
Nancy stood with her arms crossed, skepticism written across her face. “Do we have to?” she asked, her tone laced with mock reluctance. But there was a telltale gleam of curiosity in her eyes.
“Yes!” Donna replied dramatically, pointing a finger at her friend. “Participation is mandatory. House rules.”
Claudia appeared in the doorway with a tray of juice boxes, her soft smile framed by a mix of exhaustion and affection. “Don’t look at me. This one’s all Robert.”
Robert chuckled as he held up a small notepad, his energy infectious. “Here’s how it works: each of you will perform a talent—anything you like! Singing, dancing, magic tricks, impressions... whatever. The rest of us will vote for our favorite. No pressure, just fun.”
Joanna shot up like a firework. “I’m first!”
“Not fair!” Dustin groaned, flopping backward onto the carpet in protest. “You’re always first!”
Joanna stuck out her tongue, then strutted into the “spotlight,” bowing theatrically. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she declared, tossing imaginary rose petals, “prepare to be amazed!”
She launched into a whirlwind of a Broadway-style routine, belting out ‘Tomorrow’ from the movie, Annie, as she spun and leapt across the room. Her moves were exuberant and a little uncoordinated, but her sheer confidence had everyone grinning. She ended with an exaggerated flourish, one hand on her hip and the other stretched toward the ceiling.
The room erupted in cheers and applause. “Ten out of ten!” Donna announced, clapping enthusiastically.
Dustin and Will Byers huddled together, whispering furiously before stepping forward. “We present... Dustin the Magnificent and his assistant, Will!” Dustin declared, miming the placement of a top hat on his head.
Their performance was a glorious disaster. Dustin fumbled through a card trick with dramatic flair, while Will attempted to “levitate” a balloon by subtly blowing it upward. Trying and failing to make Mike disappear behind a raised blanket. The result was chaotic and hilarious, leaving the audience clutching their sides with laughter. Even Barb let out a rare, full-bellied giggle.
Nancy reluctantly stood when her name was called. “Fine,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “I’ll show you my talent.”
With a surprising air of composure, she recited a poem from memory. Her voice was steady, her delivery heartfelt, and as her words flowed, even the usually restless Joanna stilled.
“Didn’t know you had that in you, Wheeler,” Jonathan said with a small nod of approval as the applause faded.
Nancy smirked, her cheeks slightly pink. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Byers.”
Barb hesitated when it was her turn, her hands twisting nervously. “I don’t really... I mean, I’m not good at...”
“Anything counts, Barb!” Donna encouraged warmly, her tone inviting.
After a long pause, Barb stepped forward and launched into a surprisingly accurate impression of one of their strictest teachers, Ms. Pritchett. Her exaggerated frown and high-pitched scolding voice had the room howling with laughter, and Barb couldn’t help but smile as she returned to her seat.
Jonathan, as always, tried to fade into the background, but Donna was having none of it. She grabbed his arm and practically dragged him to the front.
“Fine,” he muttered, reaching for Robert’s acoustic guitar resting in the corner.
The room fell silent as he strummed a soft melody, the gentle tune weaving through the air. Jonathan’s fingers moved with quiet confidence, and though the song was simple, it carried a depth of feeling that left everyone in awe.
“That was amazing!” Donna exclaimed, her smile radiant as the applause thundered.
Finally, it was Donna’s turn. She stepped into the center, her excitement palpable. “This one’s for all of you,” she said, giving a playful bow.
With practiced grace, she began her ballet routine. Her movements flowed effortlessly, every step a testament to years of dedication and passion. The crowded living room faded away as Donna danced, her expression radiant with joy.
When she finished, the room erupted into cheers, Robert leading with a standing ovation. “And the winner is... Donna!” he declared, though the others immediately began protesting.
“No way!” Joanna shouted. “I demand a recount!”
“Clearly, I should’ve won,” Dustin said, crossing his arms in mock indignation.
Donna laughed as she looked around at the lively group, her heart swelling. “How about this,” she said, her voice full of warmth. “We all won.”
Dustin groaned, tossing a couch cushion at her. “Cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard!”
But despite the teasing, the glow in the room was undeniable. The talent show had turned into more than just a game—it was a moment of shared happiness, one that would linger in their hearts long after the night was over. The talent show’s laughter and applause had faded, replaced by the quieter hum of goodbyes. Claudia, moving with the practiced grace of a seasoned hostess, ushered the departing guests toward their coats and shoes, her smile warm but tinged with the exhaustion of a long day.
Near the front door, Jonathan held Will’s coat draped over one arm, his stance relaxed but attentive. He bent slightly to meet Donna’s gaze, offering a small, genuine smile. “Happy birthday, Donna,” he said, his voice soft, almost shy.
Donna beamed up at him, her cheeks still flushed from the excitement of the evening. “Thanks, Jonathan! Bye, Will! Bye, Mike!” she called, waving enthusiastically as the boys shuffled out into the cool night.
Dustin lingered, his overnight bag slung haphazardly over one shoulder. He bounded toward Donna, wrapping her in a quick hug that carried the familiar scent of outdoors and sugary treats. “See ya tomorrow, sis!” he said with a grin before darting after Will and Jonathan, his laughter fading as the door clicked shut behind him.
The house felt larger as the crowd thinned, leaving behind a trail of streamers, confetti, and the faint scent of frosting. Only Nancy, Joanna, and Barb remained, their presence a quieter echo of the party’s earlier chaos.
Nancy leaned against the couch, her posture casual but her expression carrying the quiet thrill of possibility. “Looks like it’s just us,” she said, adjusting her sleeve with a graceful flick of her wrist.
Joanna, ever dramatic, threw an arm around Donna’s shoulders and grinned. “Sleepover time!” she proclaimed, her voice bright and full of mischief.
Barb, perched near the remnants of the cake, cast a skeptical glance at the scattered decorations. “Should we even bother cleaning up?” she asked, her tone practical but tinged with hope for a reprieve.
From the kitchen, Claudia’s voice floated over the clinking of dishes. “Leave it,” she said, waving them off with a motherly warmth. “It’s Donna’s special day. You girls go have fun.”
Robert appeared, balancing a tray of leftover cake slices with theatrical precision. “Just remember,” he said, his grin mischievous, “no staying up too late, and no scary stories that’ll have you waking us up at 2 a.m.”
Joanna shot him a mock salute. “No promises!” she called as the girls retreated to Donna’s room, their giggles trailing behind them like a ribbon.
Donna’s room was a treasure trove of childhood whimsy. Posters of ballerinas twirled across the walls, their delicate forms caught mid-dance, while fantastical landscapes hinted at faraway adventures. Stuffed animals crowded the corners like a soft, silent audience. Joanna wasted no time claiming the bed, flopping onto it with theatrical flair and pulling a plush unicorn into her lap.
“So,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief, “what’s the first order of sleepover business?”
Nancy perched gracefully on the edge of the bed, her fingers idly smoothing the hem of her dress. “We could play a game or do makeovers,” she suggested, her voice calm but inviting. “Something fun but not too messy.”
Joanna groaned, dramatically rolling her eyes. “Makeovers are so boring. Let’s tell ghost stories!”
Barb, sitting cross-legged on the rug, shifted uncomfortably. “Maybe we could just... talk?” she suggested, her voice hesitant but hopeful. “About normal stuff?”
Donna, glowing from the day’s excitement, settled beside Barb on the floor. “We can do a little of everything,” she offered with a warm smile, her excitement contagious.
They began with “Truth or Dare,” the game quickly descending into laughter as Joanna repeatedly chose “dare,” resulting in an impromptu silly dance, a drawn-on mustache, and a hilariously failed attempt at braiding Donna’s hair. Nancy, ever composed, stuck to “truth,” revealing a carefully guarded crush on Jonathan that left Donna squealing in delight and Joanna in theatrical disgust. Barb, after much coaxing, dared to sing her favorite song, her shy voice faltering but earnest, earning an eruption of applause.
Later, with the lights dimmed and flashlights in hand, Joanna took center stage. She angled her flashlight under her chin, casting eerie shadows across her face, and launched into an exaggerated ghost story about a haunted forest. Her voice rose and fell with practiced suspense, her words weaving an atmosphere so vivid that Donna clutched her blanket tighter, her wide eyes flicking toward the window.
“That’s not real... right?” Donna whispered, her voice barely audible.
“Of course not,” Nancy said, her tone confident, though her gaze darted to the darkened corners of the room.
Barb, visibly uneasy, glanced at the door. “Can we talk about something else now?”
Sensing her friend’s discomfort, Donna leaned forward. “How about a friendship pact instead?” she suggested, her voice warm and inviting.
Joanna groaned but couldn’t resist a smile. “Fine. What’s the pact?”
Donna flipped open the purple glittery notebook, its pages already filled with fragments of her childhood—stickers, doodles, and notes from past adventures. She smoothed the page, her fingers trailing over the faint sparkle of the cover.
“Okay,” she said, her voice steady but tinged with excitement, “let’s each write a promise, something we’ll always do for each other, no matter what.” She handed the pen to Joanna, who snatched it eagerly.
Joanna’s tongue poked out in concentration as she bent over the page. Her handwriting was messy, the letters leaning into each other as if impatient to escape the pen. “I promise to always make you laugh, even when things feel hopeless,” she wrote. She added a dramatic flourish at the end and then surrounded her words with tiny stars.
“Because what’s life without laughter?” she said, grinning as she passed the notebook to Nancy.
Nancy held the pen delicately, her expression serious. She paused for a moment, her brows furrowed in thought. Then, in her neat, precise cursive, she wrote, “I promise to always tell the truth, even when it’s hard.” She underlined the word truth twice, her hand lingering over the page before she passed the notebook along.
“I think honesty is the most important thing in a friendship,” she said softly, looking at each of them in turn. “No secrets.”
Barb took the notebook next, her hands hesitating over the glittery cover. She held the pen tightly, as though the promise carried great weight. In careful, blocky letters, she wrote, “I promise to listen when you need someone to talk to.” She added a small heart at the bottom of her words, her cheeks pink as she looked up.
“Sometimes,” she said, her voice quiet but firm, “you just need someone to be there. No advice, no judgment. Just... someone.”
Finally, it was Donna’s turn. She held the pen with both hands, her eyes sparkling as she thought. In large, looping letters, she wrote, “I promise to always believe in you, even when you don’t believe in yourself.” She surrounded her words with little doodles of diamonds and hearts, her artistic flair spilling across the page.
“I think that’s what friends are for,” she said, her voice warm. “To remind you how amazing you are, even when you forget.”
Each girl contributed to the page, their personalities shining through. Joanna doodled stars around the edges, Nancy wrote in precise, neat looping cursive, and Barb added a small heart near the bottom. The notebook, now brimming with promises, was a kaleidoscope of their personalities—Joanna’s bold humor, Nancy’s steadfast honesty, Barb’s quiet empathy, and Donna’s unwavering optimism.
They huddled closer, their fingers brushing as they admired the page. “We’ll keep this forever,” Donna said, her voice filled with conviction. “Whenever we feel lost or scared, we can look at this and remember—no matter what, we’ve got each other.”
Joanna smirked but didn’t argue. “Okay, but we still need to seal it. Like, for real.”
“Secret handshake?” Donna suggested.
“Too easy,” Joanna said, grinning. “How about... a blood oath?”
Barb’s eyes widened. “Absolutely not.”
Nancy rolled her eyes. “We’re not doing that.”
They settled on their over-complicated handshake—part slapstick, part choreography. By the end, their laughter had them collapsing onto their sleeping bags, the notebook safely tucked away like a treasure. And in that moment, their promises didn’t feel like just words on a page—they felt like a bond that nothing could break.
As the night continued on, The room had grown still, save for the occasional rustle of a sleeping bag or the faint sigh of someone shifting into a more comfortable position. The glow-in-the-dark stars on Donna’s ceiling cast a soft, otherworldly light, their faint shimmer matching the quiet hum of contentment in the air.
Donna lay on her back, staring up at the tiny, glowing constellations she’d carefully placed months ago. Her heart felt full—too full, almost—as if it couldn’t quite contain the joy and love that had filled her tenth birthday.
Beside her, Joanna muttered something in her sleep, one arm draped dramatically over her face. Nancy’s soft, even breathing came from the other side of the room, her hair spilling over the pillow. Barb, closest to Donna, clutched a stuffed bear to her chest, her expression serene.
Donna closed her eyes and smiled to herself. The promises they’d made that night weren’t just words—they were threads weaving them together, stronger than any ribbon or bow.
Somewhere in the distance, a clock chimed faintly, marking the arrival of a new day.
Her last thought before sleep claimed her was a quiet, fervent wish: that this moment—this feeling of being understood and surrounded by love—would last forever.
And with that, the house slipped into silence, carrying the echoes of laughter, whispered dreams, and promises into the stillness of the night.
