December 23rd, 1987 -- Portsmouth, NH
1:48 PM, EST

When Shelby stepped off the bus in Portsmouth, she was instantly reminded of yet another reason she disliked her hometown — it always smelled like fish.

It wasn't the good kind of fishy smell, like the ritzy coastal towns on Cape Cod had. Those cities smelled like ocean breeze and salt water, but Portsmouth smelled like rotten fish.

At least, the bus station smelled like fish.

Shelby clutched onto her small suitcase as she studied the crowd in search of her grandmother's pristine white perm. Finally, she locked eyes on the woman, who was staring back with an equally cold expression.

The redhead made her way over to the woman. They used to get along so well. The old Gran would have greeted Shelby with a kiss on the cheek and a plate full of chocolate chip cookies. The old Gran was also a delusional old woman who thought her bright young granddaughter was dreaming of becoming a doting wife whose sole purpose was to birth children.

"Hi, Gran." She said, offering a slight smile to the old woman.

"Hello, Shelby. How was the ride?" Her grandmother questioned.

"Fine." The redhead answered as she began following the woman to her car.

"How is school going?" Gran asked as they reached the car.

"Fine." Shelby responded as she placed her suitcase in the trunk.

"Hmm." The older woman always responded with "hmm" when she was displeased with something. Given that she was wholeheartedly displeased with Shelby's attendance of MIT, she certainly wouldn't be pleased at the girl's success.

The two drove in silence through Portsmouth as the finally returned to the house Shelby had called home for most of her childhood.

Once they arrived, Shelby grabbed her suitcase and lugged it upstairs to her small bedroom. Soon enough, she wouldn't even need to come home to the room. She'd be living in Florida.

As she entered the room, she gasped slightly at seeing all of her things packed up neatly in brown boxes. Everything was gone — her extra clothes, pictures from her younger days, ribbons from science fairs — everything, packed away. The only thing that remained was her empty desk and her bed, which contained the blankets she needed to make it up.

"Gran!" She called out, dropping her suitcase on the bed and running downstairs. "Why is all my stuff packed up?"

Shelby's grandmother sat in front of her small black and white television, a game show playing on the screen. "Well, I thought you would want to bring it all with you when you jet set off to Florida. After all, I'm turning your room into a storage room once you leave."

Shelby looked at her with a confused look. "What do you mean, Gran? I'm still going to come visit."

As much as she didn't want to ever come back, she knew she'd come back to visit. Her mother was buried in Portsmouth, and she'd always come back to visit her.

"Well, not this house you aren't." The old woman replied. "If you accept that job with the space people, Shelby Anne, you'll never step foot in here again."

Shelby could not believe the words coming out of her grandmother's mouth. "Are you serious?"

"Oh, I'm quite serious." The woman said. "You're a disappointment to the world, just like your father."

Shelby's eyes went wide and she clutched her hands into fists beside her. "How the hell can you compare me to him?" She exclaimed.

"Do not use that tone with me, young lady." Her grandmother warned.

"If being successful and working for NASA makes me a disappointment, then fine, I'm a disappointment, Gran." Shelby states with tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry that you didn't have the options I do when you were my age, but that doesn't mean you get to take your anger out on me, or try and control my life. Because guess what? I'm not meant to be a housewife. It's not going to happen. Women are meant to do more things; amazing things; the greatest things. That's what I'm going to do."

Shelby's gran simply shook her head. "Go back to your room. I'll see you at dinner time."

The redhead quickly walked away and back to her bedroom. She only had three boxes of belongings — most of her stuff was back at school — along with her suitcase.

She dug into her purse and pulled out the crumpled piece of paper that contained Tony's phone number in New York. She wasn't sure if he was back home yet, but she didn't have the boys' house number back in Boston with her.

She really hoped he answered -- she needed to get out of her grandmother's house.

She snuck into the hallway and stood in front of the phone, knowing Gran wouldn't be able to hear her over The Newlywed Game anyways.

December 23rd, 1987 -- New York, NY
5:55 PM, EST

"Tony, is that you?"

His mother had engulfed him in a hug as soon as he returned home. "Hey, Mom." Tony smiled and wrapped his arms around her.

"How was the drive?" She asked as she ushered him into the house.

"Oh, you know." Tony sighed. "Shitty, as traffic can be expected."

Mrs. Stark gave her son a look, indicating she wasn't a fan of his language. "You had a call a few hours ago."

"A phone call?" Tony questioned as he brought his bags in the house.

"Yes." Mrs. Stark replied as she walked over to the phone and picked up the note she had written. "Shelby Colewell?" She said, a smirk filling her face. "Is that one of your girlfriends?"

Tony rolled his eyes and took the paper from his mother's hand. He was concerned as to why Shelby was calling him already. He thought that she knew he wasn't going to get home until later. "No, she's not. Just a friend." He replied, moving towards the phone as he quickly dialed the return number his mother had written down on the notepad.

The phone rang for a while before it was finally picked up. "Hello?" The voice on the other end was definitely not Shelby. He figured it had to be her grandmother.

"Hi, um, is Shelby there?" Tony asked as he leaned against the wall. "I'm a friend of hers from school and I'm just returning her call."

The line was silent on the other end for a few seconds before the woman spoke again. "I'm sorry, but Shelby is not here."

Tony froze, his finger still wrapped in the phone cord. "What do you mean, she's not there? She called me from this number a few hours ago."

"Well, I'm sorry, but Shelby no longer lives here." With that, the woman hung up the line, filling Tony's ear with the dial tone.

He muttered a curse under his breath and hung up the phone, then ran a hand through his hair.

If Shelby wasn't in Boston, and she wasn't in New Hampshire, then where could she be?

Mrs. Stark wondered back into the living room, a plate of cookies in her hands. "So, did Rob and the other boys make it home safely?"

"Yeah, I was the last one to leave, so --" Tony paused as something clicked in his head. "Robbo." He muttered as he grabbed a cookie from his mom and headed back towards the phone.

If Shelby wasn't at school or at home and she'd already tried to reach Tony, there was only one place she could be: with Robbo.

He flipped through the phone book, knowing he had his pal's home phone number written down somewhere.

"Tony, is everything okay?" Mrs. Stark could tell that something was troubling her son, but she was completely lost as to what it would be.

"Yeah, everything is fine, Mom." He finally found the number and quickly dialed it.

The phone quickly picked up and Tony recognized Robbo's mother's voice on the other line. "Hello?"

"Hey, Mrs. Everett, this is Tony Stark. Is Rob home?"