The first thing Willow should notice upon arriving to the not-party is her friend's costumes. All the boys are wearing subtle homemade costumes inspired by their D&D characters, even Lucas. Nancy is dressed in a comfortable take of Little Red Riding Hood, completely with a scarlet cape over her jeans and black knit sweater and a picnic basket functioning as her purse. Robin and Steve are donned in adorable matching looks, just like Willow and Eddie, except they drew inspiration from Grease clearly. But they haven't taken on the stereotypical roles that would be assigned to them; Robin is wearing Danny's final costume of a school cardigan and black v-neck, the large red R stitched into the front panel seeming fitting for her namesake as Steve is donned in a bad boy get-up inspired by Sandy's final look. He has on high-waisted leather pants she didn't even know he owned, along with a black t-shirt and his hair slicked back. There's a leather jacket he'd clearly discarded on the back of one of his dining room chairs. It reminded her of Eddie's - part of her wishes she'd seen him in it. But her wandering thoughts stop dead in their tracks when she catches his eyes.

Something's wrong with Steve.

His eyes are still faded pink around the rims. He greets Eddie before he does Willow. And even when he does greet her, he doesn't look her in her eyes. This was the boy she used to believe she knew like the back of her hand, and although she isn't so sure that she ever did know him that intimately, she does like to believe she still knows him well enough as a friend should. There's no chance for her to bring it up before they're being swept into the living room, everyone else also greeting them. In between hugs from Dustin and Robin, Willow sees him slip away soundlessly, heading towards his kitchen. When he returns to the room sometime later, he's sipping on a beer.

Something is definitely wrong.

The worry prickles at her the entire first hour of the not -party. She watches him stand silently the entire time as everyone debates on whether they should watch a movie or play a board game, avoiding sitting next to anybody despite the free seats beside both Willow and Robin. His cold shoulder, whether it be subconscious or deliberate, is extended beyond just her. She isn't sure what to do, or if anyone else has noticed. It makes her chest ache in subdued panic.

"What if we don't do either?" Nancy asks the groups, making Willow try and focus on the debate at hand.

"Of course you don't want to watch a scary movie," Mike snaps at his sister, "You don't have your stupid boyfriend here to cuddle up to when you get scared."

Right. Movie versus game. Fun.

Willow feels bad for not participating more, but the week has worn her down. There was the usual fatigue of getting back into school after spending a week off, but it didn't end there for Willow.

Parker's anniversary. It had been two days ago, and it had left her feeling numb.

She refused to talk to anybody about it. Even her own mother. Eddie had clearly been worried, he had spent the entire afternoon and evening with her. Each morning he'd looked at her with such care and such worry, her heart nearly shattered for him. He had so clearly wanted to be there for her, but something had stopped her from letting him in on her private ritual of grieving.

She didn't tell him about the panic attack she had during third period at school, how she had not only brought the Warheads candy for him but to utilize it in case that had happened. And when she was curled up in the girls' bathroom, sitting in her jeans on one of the toilets as she hyperventilated, it had worked wonders to refocus her. The painful sour took over the painful panic. For a second, she was gifted relief in a cruel form of torture. When he'd finally dropped her back off at her house that evening and left her alone with her thoughts, she had curled up and waited for the waterworks. She'd expected to be a sobbing mess. Or at least to shed a few tears over her brother, maybe dig through her memory box and feel the pain to remember that he had been real. He had once been something tangible, someone at her side, even if he was now gone. But all she had felt was empty. It was almost worse; not being able to cry about it hurt more than any sobs that had ever wrecked her body previous years.

And then there were the nightmares. Those were new.

Dreams of her brother, blaming her for his death. Dreams of graveyards, everyone she'd ever loved named off on rotting headstones. Dreams of her own grave, being buried alive. She hadn't seen who the person behind the shovel was in the last one, but she had heard Parker's voice at some point. They all left her feeling emotionally battered and bruised.

Through it all, she only knew one thing for certain - she couldn't burden Eddie with this.

So she faked smiles and put on her best act of faux happiness. Not all of it was forced, being with Eddie did help. And she'd watched him accept it, albeit with a bit of confusion and hesitancy. He was too nice to confront her, to bring it up to her, to say what everyone in her life had been thinking; isn't this when you're supposed to be breaking down?

"I like Nance's idea," Steve finally contributes, making Willow's head whip in his direction, "I can grab some snacks from the kitchen and we just all hang out."

And then there's the problem of Steve. Steve, who for some reason, was suddenly retracting himself from the group. And that took precedent to the rest of Willow's problems for her.

"I'll help," she offers, shifting to stand from where she sat beside Eddie on the couch.

But Steve quickly shakes his head, "No, it's fine. I've got it."

The rejection stings, even when Eddie brings a soothing hand to her knee.

Everyone else is clearly picking up on Steve's odd mood after that. Nancy looks at him strangely, while both Lucas and Mike pull nonchalant faces of confusion. All of their reactions are fleeting. But then Willow looks at Robin, prepared to share a silent conversation through their eyes, and her friend looks far more nervous, unable to meet her gaze.

And then there's Dustin.

Willow can't read Dustin Henderson as well as she can read Robin, but she prides herself on learning more about his body language during her two nights of Hellfire. He wears the same stressed look that crosses his face when he fears that they're about to either lose or take severe damage during a campaign. The one he wears during moments in which a decision will either make or break the group.

It tells her everything she needs to know. Whatever is going on with Steve, Robin and Dustin know something.

"Hey, Buckley," Willow finally says, growing restless, "I forgot something in Eddie's van. Come with me to grab it?"

Eddie glances at her curiously. He knows it's a lie, but he isn't about to press her on it in a room full of their friends.

Robin looks up suddenly, like a deer caught in headlights, "Me? Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, sure."

"Great," Willow smiles with tight lips, standing quickly after squeezing Eddie's hand. Nancy looks between the girls from her spot on the love seat beside Robin.

"Need another hand?" she offers, but Willow shakes her head. She's careful to make her rejection land far softer than Steve's rejection had for Willow.

"Oh, no, Nance. I think Robin and I will have it covered," she looks at Robin, staring hard until her friend stands and follows her out the front door.

Steve is still in the kitchen as they leave the room, not even noticing their departure.

She still takes the caution of stepping off his front porch and closer to the driveway before she spins on her heels and faces Robin.

"Okay, out with it - what happened before we got here?" she demands.

Robin stutters, "W-What? Why do you- what makes you think something happened? Nothing happened."

"Okay, now I know something happened," Willow scowls as Robin shifts uncomfortably under her gaze.

"It's nothing," Robin's promise isn't convincing.

"Why is Steve avoiding me?" Willow's voice is soft as she asks this, eyes flickering to the ground as insecurity grows in her chest.

She thought that her and Steve were on good terms. He promised that this get-together would be nothing like the party.

"I don't know," Robin honestly replies. She doesn't - she wasn't in the room when Steve and Dustin had their talk. All she knows is that after their talk, Steve had locked himself away in his room for a good thirty minutes before returning downstairs and immediately breaking into the alcohol stash that was meant for later in the night, "He just- I think he's stressed. Freaked out with Nancy being here."

"I thought we agreed they weren't trying to get back together," Willow sighs, screwing her face up as she considers it. Maybe Robin was right. Maybe Steve's weird mood was due to his ex-girlfriend being here tonight, and Willow was being selfish thinking it was her own doing.

"We aren't," a voice suddenly pipes up from behind them. Both girls turn to find Nancy coming out around the corner of the house, looking terribly guilty, "I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, I just- I couldn't stand being the only girl left in there. The testosterone tonight is kind of smothering."

Willow and Robin clearly don't know what to do, having been caught red-handed gossiping about the girl in front of them.

"That's- It's fine!" Robin squeaks.

Willow, however, is a bit more confident. She can tell by Nancy's unwavering confidence mixed with kindness that she really holds no ill will, so she chooses to focus on what the girl had just revealed, "What do you mean you guys aren't trying to get back together?"

Robin looks wildly at Willow, shuffling her foot to step on Willow's boot, which makes the red-head kick her shin in retaliation. When Robin looks back at Nancy, she's flushed with embarrassment, "Sorry, she didn't mean to ask you that-"

Nancy laughs nervously, "No, it's fine. I meant that I have no interest in Steve anymore. That ship has sort of sailed."

"Then why is he acting so weird?" There's no malice in Willow's tone - there's only desperation. She doesn't see Nancy as the enemy, she sees her as an ally. If Steve's mood was baffling her and Robin, maybe his ex-girlfriend knew something they didn't. She had, after all, known him longer than both girls.

"Honestly? I'm not sure," she furrows her eyebrows and approaches the two girls. They huddle in a small circle in front of Steve's garage door, Nancy crossing her arms as she continues to think, "But I promise it has nothing to do with me. We're just friends nowadays."

"You may know that, but does he ?" Robin makes a fair point.

"I'm pretty sure he does," Nancy shrugs, "Besides, I don't think he has feelings for me anymore."

"He spent the entire summer talking about you," Willow blurts out, silently cursing herself. So much for being a good friend and not exposing Steve's secrets.

Nancy cocks an eyebrow, "He did? Huh."

"Plus, you two have been talking a lot lately," Robin adds to the conversation. Willow is grateful she's not as flustered as she had been the last time she saw the two girls interact. She just wants to get to the bottom of Steve's mood; that damn talk she keeps meaning to have with Robin regarding Nancy Wheeler would have to be put off for another night.

"He was talking to me for advice about a girl he likes," Nancy explains immediately, avoiding Willow's gaze for some reason.

For the first time in her life, Willow Jenkins isn't an idiot. Something clicks. But she refuses to make assumptions until it's confirmed to her.

"You said that you two had talked about me," she breathes out, hoping Nancy would correct her.

Nancy's eyes widen as if she's said something that she shouldn't have, "We did. We just- we had a lot of catching up to do, you know? He told me about his summer with you guys and I updated him on my life. And then he admitted he needed advice."

Willow doesn't fully buy it, but she also doesn't press it.

"Who's this girl?" Robin also sounds as if she's suspicious. Willow isn't sure why.

Just how many secrets do all of us have?

"Just a friend, for now," Nancy explains, tension leaking from her at a painstakingly slow rate, "But it's a sticky situation. After he explained it to me, I told him it might be better to leave it alone. It sounded like his chance had passed."

"A friend?" Willow questions. She tries to take it seriously, brushing off her suspicion and taking it all for what Nancy was telling them.

So Steve had a mysterious friend, a girl friend, with emphasis on the space. And he liked her. He had gone to Nancy for advice about her. Maybe, possibly, something had gone wrong there - maybe he hadn't taken Nancy's advice of leaving it all lay to rest, maybe he'd gotten rejected. It's a plausible scenario. It could easily explain his odd mood. He was always a sore loser, especially when it came to his love life.

But it didn't explain why he was avoiding Willow.

"As far as I know, and if he took my advice, then yeah," Nancy nods, lips pressing together as her face scrunches up thoughtfully. She's staring at the pavement below their feet, as if in careful consideration.

"Why is it a sticky situation-" Willow starts to ask the question, but Robin cuts her off, as if this isn't something they should be talking about.

Which, she guesses, they shouldn't be. It wasn't polite to gossip about the host of your get-together, about your friend , right outside his house.

"What if you talk to him?" Robin looks wildly to Nancy, lifting her brows eagerly, "Maybe see if you can get him to tell you what's wrong?"

"I highly doubt-"

"He trusts you," Robin doesn't take no for an answer. It worries Willow a little bit. Her friend has always been headstrong in a way, just as Willow was, but this was the insistence of someone who knew something she shouldn't.

Willow felt completely like an outsider looking in. Whatever secrets of Steve's that were being kept by these two girls were out of her reach.

Nancy considers it for a moment, a staring contest ensuing between her and Robin.

And then, a silent conversation occurred. Willow feels even more distanced.

"Okay, yeah," Nancy finally agrees, nodding and forcing an obviously worried smile in Willow's direction, "I'm going to go try and talk to him."

"Great!" Robin claps her hands with far too much enthusiasm, "We'll stay out here for a few extra seconds, give you some time. If he didn't trust us enough to talk about this... friend ... with us to begin with, he might not be willing to risk us overhearing. It's giving you a headstart, so to speak."

She's rambling. She only rambles when she's nervous.

Nancy nods, and without another word, she's walking back into the house. Robin waits until she hears the click of the front door before she turns back to Willow.

"'Low, there's something I need to tell you."

She's never seen her friend look so pale. All the color has drained from her face, leaving her impossibly white against the fading orange glow of the sunset.

"Okay," she says slowly, ignoring the panic rising, "But, Rob, you don't look so good."

She reaches out to offer a comforting touch to Robin, but the girl flinches away.

She's never flinched from her like that.

"Robin," Willow says, no longer able to contain her nerves. This rejection is hurting worse than Steve's; it's not fueled by a sour mood. It's guilt. It's written plainly across Robin's face.

"I- I fucked up, 'Low. I should have told you the moment I found out," she starts, and Willow feels her stomach starting to drop.

"Robin, you didn't fuck up-"

"I did. Jesus Christ, this is... this is so bad, 'Low. I didn't think-"

They're both cut off by the front door opening.

Normally, Willow would be relieved by the sight of Eddie standing there.

"Hey," he sheepishly says, looking between the two girls, rubbing the back of his neck as he realizes that he's clearly interrupting something, "Sorry, just, uh - they wanted me to come and let you know we're going to watch a movie."

"We'll be right in," Willow promises. She's not done with this conversation.

But Robin is. She nods to get Eddie to retreat, giving them another moment alone, but she has no plans of continuing the conversation.

If she tells Willow now, it'll ruin the whole night for every single one of them.

Willow turns to her, owlish eyes pleading for her to continue, reaching her hands out again. This time, Robin doesn't flinch. But she can only shake her head as her sweaty palms are comforted by her best friend, "We should go in."

"No, I want to know what's wrong-"

"Later," Robin disguises her begging as a promise, squeezing both of Willow's hands, "I'll tell you later, I swear it. Before the night is over."

It's almost too much for Willow.

They're slow and careful as they walk back into the house, Robin making a beeline for the living room to resume her place on the loveseat beside Nancy. Whispered words are exchanged and Willow can see Nancy shake her head with a frown; she doesn't have to be close enough to hear that Robin was asking if she found out what was wrong with Steve. Eddie turns in his seat on the couch and catches Willow's eyes, and she wants nothing more than to run to him for comfort right now. She just wants to disappear, and she wants him to join her in her vanishing act.

But she can't.

She's done with the game at hand. She's talking to Steve, whether he's willing to or not.

Eddie's face falls when he watches her take the sharp turn towards the kitchen, and it nearly kills her. It feels like she's choosing Steve over him right now, an unfair situation being dealt to them.

But Steve is her friend. She loves him. If he's suffering or something is bothering him, she won't leave him to seclude himself.

He doesn't hear her enter the kitchen. He's lost in thought, staring at the microwave with tense shoulders as the sound of kernels popping and a sweet buttery scent fill the air.

She pauses several paces away from him. She can see his beer, discarded off to the side on one of his counters. After taking in the scene before her in silence, she takes a deep breath and announces herself.

"Hey," her voice weakly calls out, making Steve jump slightly. The initial shock is still spread across his cheeks as he turns to face her, but it quickly fades to return to the stoic expression he'd offered her all night. So void of all emotion. So unreadable.

"Hi," his voice flatly returns her greeting.

The problem isn't some other girl. It's me.

She knows she's done something wrong. She has no doubt now, standing here alone with him, watching the way he's closed off his gates to her.