1984

Alice Henderson was not doing all that well.

The past year had been brutal. Starting school again in January after her coma and temporary stay in Hawkins Lab was not as easy as she thought it would be. She had mounds of homework and midterms to catch up on, and she became the talk of the school. 

Not in a fun, sexy, "Whoa, I'm popular!" way. But in a, "Damn, she's was in a coma? She's not contagious, is she?" way. 

Eventually people stopped asking Alice if she overdosed on pills or if she died and met God or whatever. Even when the rumor mill started spinning some bullshit about Tommy L. spending his winter break with Whitesnake and Alice was no longer the most interesting topic of discussion, she still felt people's eyes on her. Heard their whispers, which quieted down if she got too close.

The one upside was having Steve Harrington in her corner. He'd dropped Tommy H. and Carol, spending more time with Nancy, Alice, and Alice's ragtag group of friends: Samuel Bingsley, Maria DeLuca, Quincy Leeds, and Robin Buckley. (Although Robin didn't seem to like Steve much, for reasons that Alice didn't quite understand...)

Despite falling a few rungs on the popularity ladder, for the most part, the student body respected Steve. So if people made snide comments about Alice and he was in earshot, Steve would come to her defense.

It was nice. But Alice still felt this hole in her chest—an amalgamation of stress, perhaps? Or despair at the losses of Barb and Eleven?

She tried to fill that chasm by going a date with some meathead who asked her to the movies. Peter Prentiss, a senior on the JV basketball team with the IQ of a chipmunk. They went on a few dates, made out a few times, and Peter expressed his love for Alice very quickly...

...only to lose interest when a shinier, newer, prettier girl caught his eye. Figures. At least no one at school found out about their brief dalliance. Alice didn't want to be the Coma Girl and the girl that Peter Prentiss wined, dined, and ditched in record time.

For another distraction, Alice threw herself into drama club, which was fun. But her frequent doctor's appointments at Hawkins Lab meant missing rehearsals, meaning Alice couldn't be in the spring musical. But at least she could work behind the scenes.

The bleakest part of Alice's 1984 was that she and Nancy were nowhere near as close of friends as they used to be. The splintering of their friendship began in June, when they spent Barb's birthday together to honor their dearly departed friend.

After having dinner with the Holland's—something Nancy had been pestering Steve to do for ages—Nancy invited Alice to a sleepover at her house. Alice expected it would be a way for the girls to finally come to terms with everything they'd been through and work toward healing. Maybe they'd listen to sad records and cry, while swapping their favorite Barb-related memories.

Instead, Nancy used the time to ruminate and try and place blame.

"I just keep playing that night over and over in my head," Nancy said, sitting cross-legged on her bedspread with a severe frown on her face—but no tears. 

Alice sat in Nancy's desk chair, fidgeting with the necklace she was wearing.

"We can't go back and change it," Alice said gently. "As much as I wish we could, it's—"

"What went wrong?" Nancy interrupted, as if she hadn't heard Alice.

"It was all the demogorgon," Alice said, repeating something she told herself often to try and make herself feel better. It worked. Sometimes. Until it didn't. "It wasn't us."

"If only I hadn't gone upstairs with Steve," Nancy sighed. She put her head in her hands. "If only you'd tried harder to get Barb to go with you."

It felt like Nancy had thrown a barbell at Alice's ribcage, cracking it open.

"Wait, what?" Alice said, vacillating between anger, confusion, and deep despair. "Excuse me?"

Nancy looked up, brow furrowed.

"I just mean, if you'd fought harder to get Barb to go with you, she'd be alive."

"Or the demogorgon would've followed us home," Alice snapped, "and killed Barb, and Samuel and me. Is that what you would've wanted to happen?" 

Nancy had the audacity to roll her eyes. Frustration made Alice's blood boil, a stress headache building behind her forehead.

"Jesus, Al, don't be so sensitive." 

"I'm not being sensitive, you're being unfair!" Alice said. She cleared her throat to calm her temper and added, "We could play the blame game all day long. If only I'd tried harder. If only Barb hadn't been such a nice friend and waited for you while you fucked Steve. If only—"

"I get it!" Nancy said, louder than intended, eyes blazing with the same anger Alice was feeling.

Knock, knock.

"Girls? Is everything okay in there?" 

Shit. Mrs. Wheeler must've heard their raised voices.

"We're fine, Mom!" Nancy called, in a voice much sweeter than the one she was using with Alice.

"Okay, well, get me if you need anything."

They heard the muffled sound of Mrs. Wheeler's footsteps as she descended the stairs.

Awkward silence followed.

"Sorry," Alice said, after a minute or so of avoiding eye contact. She didn't want to be the one to apologize first, but Nancy wasn't budging. 

"Me too," Nancy said quietly. 

"Let's not fight, or talk about that night anymore," Alice said. "Why don't we talk about our favorite memories with Barb? I think mine is at the freshman year pep rally, when she—"

"I'm pretty tired, actually," Nancy said. "Can we just go to bed?"

Alice's heart deflated.

"Oh. Sure."

Nancy tucked herself into bed, while Alice got settled into a sleeping bag. She wasn't sure why Nancy invited her in the first place. Maybe just to foist her blame and guilt onto somebody else. The thought made Alice's skin crawl.

"Goodnight," Nancy said, before turning off her lamp with the click of the button.

"Night," Alice whispered into the darkness.

🦋🦋🦋

Four months later, Alice hadn't fully forgiven Nancy for that night. However, the girls played nice at school, not spending a lot of time together otherwise.

Thankfully, Alice also had best friends in Maria and Robin to spend time with. One crisp October evening, the former was at the Henderson house, trying to talk Alice down from making a hair-rible mistake.

"This is a terrible idea."

"Would you chill?"

"No! Because you're going to ruin your hair, and your mom will be so pissed!"

"Maria, relax," Alice said, waving her hand dismissively. "It's easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission. Jesus said that."

Maria rubbed her forehead.

"I highly doubt that," she said wearily.

"Yes, he did," Alice said. "It's in the 13th book of the bible: Alice-icus. And besides, aren't you the one who said I need to live a little? Who said I need to do something fun for myself?"

Maria bit her lip. She had said that multiple times, after noticing Alice seeming rather mopey, or angry, or lethargic. Those were Alice's moods lately, when the girl wasn't using sarcasm and humor as a defense mechanism.

"Well, yes—"

"So this is me, living a little!" Alice said. She spread her arms out like she was giving the world an air hug. "The world is my oyster!"

"Uh-oh," Maria said. "Every time you start speaking in cliches, I worry about you."

Alice ignored Maria and hopped up from her bed. She grabbed the Melvald's bag from her desk and dumped it out onto her tie-dye bedspread.

"I bought a few different kinds of hair dye," she said. "What do we think about Passionfruit Pink? Or Maybe You Go Girl Green?"

Maria sifted through the bottles of dye. She furrowed her brow.

"Are there any normal colors in here?" Maria asked. She was happy to see her best friend in higher spirits than she has been as of late, but she knew an impulsive decision like this could backfire very quickly. Alice was one to do first, think later.

"Well, I did get a bottle of blonde," Alice said. She picked it up and waved it around. "I want something more dynamic though."

"If I can't talk you out of dying your hair at all," Maria pleaded, "can I at least convince you to go for the blonde? It's the least likely color to make your mom kill you—and me."

Alice held up the blonde dye. She inspected the bottle.

"Fine," she said, sighing. "I'll keep it classy. Just this once. Let's figure out how this works—"

Before she and Maria could learn the art of going blonde, Dustin burst into her room.

"Dusty!" Alice said, leaning over the bottles so her brother wouldn't see.  "Get the hell out of here!"

"I need coins!" he said, panting. "Now!"

"For the arcade?" Maria asked.

Dustin nodded and raced over to where Alice's piggy bank Monty the PorkChop sat on her shelf.

"Don't you dare shatter Monty!" Alice said with a huff, chasing Dustin. "He's very special to me!"

He also holds my secret stash of Deadbeat Mom Money, Alice thought, that no one else is going to find out about.

"Monty could lose a couple pounds," Dustin said, holding him precariously. "C'mon, can I just take $20 in change? I'll owe you one."

"I drove you around town all summer!" Alice protested, narrowing her eyes. "You already owe me one."

"Can you two please stop fighting?!" Maria said, exasperated. She joined the siblings by the shelf and handed Dustin a roll of quarters from her purse. "Here. For Dragon's Lair. No need to pay me back."

"Really?!" Dustin asked, eyes shining. "Thanks, Maria!"

He shoved the coins in his pocket and gave Alice a reproachful look.

"Remind me why you still keep Samuel around?" he asked. "He's not nearly as useful."

With those words of wisdom, Dustin was gone.

Alice stomped back to her bed and threw herself on it.

"He's been getting on my nerves lately," Alice grumbled. "And he won't stop talking shit about Samuel!"

"To be fair," Maria said, "Sam's been kind of an asshole lately."

Alice couldn't disagree with that. She and Maria knew full well he was so high-and-mighty because he played most of the leading men in the plays at theatre camp—mainly because he was one of very few men. Al and Maria were tired of him and his condescending demeanor, but when they tried to tell him to quit it, he pretended it was part of a method acting exercise.

"Well, let's not think about Sam or my dumb brother," Alice said. "Let's focus on the matter at hand." 

She held up the Beach Blonde Hair Dye bottle and a photo of Farrah Fawcett. "How are we going to make me look like this?"

"Let me see," Maria said, taking the bottle and picture from Alice. She inspected both items carefully.

She really, really wasn't happy about this plan, but ever since Alice woke up from her coma, she'd been acting a bit...different. Slowly but surely, Maria noticed more and more cracks in Alice's happy-go-lucky facade. 

Maria had tried asking Alice head-on what was wrong, but every time she did, Alice made a joke or caused a diversion. It was obvious she hated talking about her feelings, and Maria didn't want to force her into a conversation she wasn't ready to have.

Until Alice was ready to open up, Maria would be the supportive friend she needed. Even if it meant dying her best friend's hair a garish blonde and hoping for the best.

Maria lowered the picture and grinned at Alice.

"Are you ready to become Hawkins High's newest it girl?" Maria asked, eyes twinkling.

Alice beamed.

"Absolutely!"

{Edited July 10, 2020; Reposted & Expanded November 28, 2024}