Tell Me "Don't", So I Can Crawl Back In Part 5
Part 4 Part 6
“What are some things people do with their friends?”
Dustin looked up from where he’d been fiddling with his radio. “Dude. That’s the saddest thing you’ve even asked me.”
Steve dropped the magazine he’d been holding onto his chest and glared across the room. “Shut up, no it’s not. It’s a genuine question.”
“Yeah, I know, that’s why it’s sad,” Dustin said, turning back to his radio. “That fact that you don’t know is pretty depressing.”
“No, because see, all the things I used to do with my friends don’t really apply anymore. With Tommy, we’d like, play basketball. Or go to parties and get drunk. And with the person I’m trying to become friends with now, those things won’t work.”
“I don’t see why you need other friends. You have me.”
Steve gave Dustin a flat look. “Dude, no offense, but if I want to keep my sanity, I really need to hang out with someone my own age. I like hanging out with you, obviously. But image if you didn’t have Mike or Will or Lucas. Just me.”
“Hmm, yeah, I guess I see your point,” Dustin said as static began to emit from the speaker. “Well then what’s the problem with this guy you’re trying to be friends with? It shouldn’t be that difficult to be friends with someone.”
And the thing was, Dustin was right. He’d always thought it should be easy to become someone’s friend, otherwise what’s the point? But it was different when you were older and trying to slide into an already established friend group. Especially when they came from such different social circles. But it wasn’t like Steve hadn’t been trying.
“I mean, there’s no problem. Eddie’s great. He’s actually pretty cool, in his own weird way. But he’s more like you. He’s into nerdy shit like D&D.”
Dustin opened his mouth, but Steve shut him down before he could start. “And no, I’m not going to play that game. I still have standards. But I’ve been sitting with him and his friends for a week now during lunch, and things are still sort of awkward. Even with just Eddie, there’s this, like, tension between us. But I’m not sure why. So I thought if I could maybe invite him out to do stuff, that might help ease us into a more comfortable friendship.”
Dustin finally shut off his radio and turned his full attention to Steve, standing as he began to pace. “Alright, well this seems like a pretty easy solution. We can brainstorm some standard friendship activities, you invite this Eddie guy to do them, and bam. Friendship.”
It sounded easy when Dustin put it like that. “Yeah but, what if it doesn’t work?”
“Then screw him!”
“Whoa, language.”
“Steve, listen.” Dustin came to a stop right in front of him. “You can’t force someone to be your friend. It doesn’t really work like that.”
Well that wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “But—”
“Wait,” Dustin said, holding up a finger. “Just listen. You can put in as much effort as you like, but if he’s not interested in being friends, it’s not going to work. He needs to put effort in too.”
Steve lowered his eyes. Of course he knew that was true. He wasn’t so pathetic to cling onto someone who didn’t want him around. But the thing was, even though it was still a little awkward and there was definitely tension, Eddie did seem as if he liked having Steve around. He was always leaning into his space and making jokes and including Steve in conversations with the rest of his friends.
But he’d also had Steve’s number for three days and hadn’t called once. And it wasn’t like Steve could call him again. That would seem desperate. Which he wasn’t. So, it would have to be Eddie that made the next move. But it was driving Steve crazy. He wanted to invite Eddie out again, but how could he do that if he wouldn’t call?
“So, how do I encourage him to put effort in? I want to show him I’m serious about this.”
Dustin rubbed his chin, as if he were an old man with scruff. “Is he shy?”
The actually made Steve laugh. “No, not at all. He’s like, the least shy person I’ve ever met. He doesn’t care what anybody thinks about him.”
“Okay, well let’s think about this. Once you figure out a way of asking him, what would you want to do?”
Steve dropped his head back onto Dustin’s pillow. “Dude, that’s literally what I asked you. What do you and your friends do?”
“I don’t know, normal shit,” he said, dropping into his rollie chair. “We go to each other’s houses and watch movies. We have sleep overs. We go to the arcade and the bowling alley. We go see movies at the theater. We get ice cream. All sorts of shit.”
Steve sat up and pointed a finger at him. “Yeah, yeah dude. That’s good stuff. Write that down for me.”
“Can’t you just remember it?”
“Dude.”
“Fine, fine.”
Dustin ripped a page out of his notebook and began to write out his list of activities. It wasn’t a fully comprehensive list by any means. Steve would have to think about what to add to it. But it was a start. Dustin handed it to him with a flourish, and Steve took it to look over.
“Perfect. Now I just have to figure out a way to ask him without looking desperate.”
Dustin snorted. “You are desperate.”
Steve chucked a pillow at his head. “Shut up, you little twerp. This isn’t desperation. This is me, putting in effort.”
He left Dustin’s house not long after that. Some nights he would stay for dinner at Claudia’s insistence, but right now he needed to be alone to think. Why was making friends so damn difficult? Steve really felt as if it shouldn’t be, but then that led him to ask a question he’d really rather not think about. Was it him? Was he just so unpleasant that no matter how hard he tried, people would always be repelled by him? He didn’t think he was that bad, at least not anymore.
But then goddammit, why hadn’t Eddie called? Steve had thought about asking him while at school, but he wasn’t that needy yet. He wasn’t going to beg Eddie Munson to talk to him. This was just a matter of patience. Which he could be, no matter what Dustin thought. Hell, he was the king of cool. The cool master. Just because he wanted friends, that didn’t mean he needed them.
That concept was put to the test almost immediately, as Steve drove down the darkening road back to his house. Because as he rounded a corner, his headlights illuminated a figure walking ahead on the side of the road. Steve would recognize that hair anywhere. He slammed on the breaks as he pulled up beside Eddie, bringing the car to an abrupt stop.
“Eddie!”
Eddie jumped and spun toward the car, one hand raised as if in self-defense. Even in the fading light of the evening, Steve could see Eddie’s big brown eyes wide with surprise. Steve grinned and leaned out his open window.
“Dude,” Eddie said, placing a hand over his chest. “Don’t do that! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
Steve snorted. “Geez, sorry. Didn’t realize the big bad dungeon master scared so easily.”
Eddie narrowed his eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry. How would you, King Steve, react to a random car screeching to halt beside you on an empty street in the dark?”
Huh, fair. Steve would probably have been ready for another fight. “Where are you headed?”
“Oh, I’m on a journey back to my far away lair, where I shall finally rest my weary bones and hunker down with a hearty mead.”
Steve blinked. “Of course. Silly me. Where are you coming from?”
Eddie grinned, as if pleased Steve was playing along. “Gareth’s. We had band practice, and my poor darling van is decommissioned until I get the part I need on Monday.”
“Wait,” Steve glanced down the darkening road. “Don’t you live at the trailer park?”
“That I do, fair Steven.”
“Okay, first of all, that’s not my name. Second, you shouldn’t be walking out here after dark. It’s not safe.”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “Sorry, my teleportation abilities are also on the fritz right now.”
“Dude, that’s not what I meant. Why didn’t you just call me? I could have given you a ride.”
For several long seconds, Eddie just stared at him as if he’d grown a second head. He opened his mouth, then closed it, before repeating the motion a few times. It was kind of funny, like he was doing a really bad impression of a fish. Finally, he shook his head.
“I, uh, didn’t know I could. I wouldn’t want to bother you.”
Steve scoffed and reached over to open his passenger door. “You wouldn’t be bothering me. I give the kids rides all the time. Come on, hop in. Let me drive you.”
Eddie only hesitated for a moment more, before kicking into action and darting around the car. He climbed in, bringing with him the faint smell of weed and some sort of citrus cologne. It should have been gross, but Steve found he actually liked it. In the dim light of the car, he shot Eddie a smile.
“Seriously dude, the next time you need a ride anywhere, shoot me a call. It’s not a problem at all. I don’t have much going on.”
“Right,” Eddie said, staring at him. Then, as if catching himself, he jerked his head away to look out the window. “I’ll, uh, keep that in mind.”
“Good.”
Steve began to drive again, now heading in the direction of the trailer park. He’d never been there before, but he’d driven past it enough times to not need directions. Eddie was oddly quiet as they went. When Steve snuck a glance, he saw Eddie twisting his rings around on his fingers. Was he nervous? That thought made something sink in Steve’s stomach. He’d been trying so hard to show Eddie that he was safe, that he wasn’t the same person he used to be. But maybe he hadn’t made all that much progress. But it was fine. He could be patient.
“So, you’re in a band?”
Eddie seemed to jerk out of his thoughts. “What? Oh, yeah. Corroded Coffin. We mostly do metal covers, but we also write and perform some of our own stuff.”
Steve shook his head. “Of course you’d be in a metal band.”
“Hey.” Eddie pointed a finger at him, the nail painted black. “I kindly ask you to remove the attitude from your tone. There will be no trash talking metal in my presence.”
“I wasn’t trash talking it,” Steve insisted. “It’s just… metal is so loud.”
“Yeah, Steve, that’s kind of the point. It’s badass, unlike that sugar pop crap you probably listen to. I bet you’re into like, Wham! and shit. You probably have ABBA’s best of hits on constant repeat.”
Steve scowled. He was not about to admit to Eddie that that very tape was currently tucked into his glove box right that moment.
“There’s nothing wrong with liking pop music. Not all of us can be so special and different like you.”
Eddie shot him wide grin. “And don’t you forget it.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“You like it.”
“Yeah, so?”
Eddie snapped his mouth shut. He clearly hadn’t been expecting that. It felt good to throw Eddie off, to keep him on his toes. Steve got the feeling that not enough people were able to do that. He glanced back at Eddie. Yep, he was back to twisting his rings.
“Oh, um,” Eddie began, clearing his throat. “Speaking of my band. We’re playing at the Hideout this Wednesday at eight. It’s nothing special, we do it every other week. But I wanted to invite you, if you wanted to come.”
Steve’s eyebrows shot up. An invite to watch his band? Yeah, okay, that was definitely something someone would extend to a friend. And it was the perfect opportunity to ingratiate himself in with Eddie and the rest of his friends. Apparently, he took too long to answer because Eddie began to ramble again.
“But you don’t have to, of course. I know it’s not your scene, and you’re not into the music. Plus, the bar is a total shithole. Probably not up to King Steve’s usual standards, so it’s fine if you’d rather skip it. I’m not, like, going to force you. I just thought, hey, Steve’s here. Why not ask him to come. But if you’d rather not I get it—”
“Eddie,” Steve said, cutting him off.
He snapped his mouth shut and turned those big brown eyes on him. “Yeah?”
The smile he gave this time was gentle. Encouraging. “I’d love to come. I’ll be there.”
Eddie’s tongue darted out to lick his lips. “Really?”
“Yeah, really. Why wouldn’t I?”
“I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “Like I said, it’s not your thing.”
“True. But you’ll be there, so that means I can make it my thing.”
When Steve glanced over at him again, he didn’t understand the look Eddie was giving him. He almost looked a little awestruck, but there was also confusion in the twist of his brows. Steve reached over and patted him on the shoulder.
“Come on, don’t look at me like that. Is it really so crazy that I want to hang out with you?”
“I mean, yeah, kind of. If someone had told me a few months ago that I would be driving in King Steve’s car, willingly inviting him to watch my band, and him agreeing, I’d have told them they smoked way too much of my stash.”
Steve sighed. “How many times do I have to tell you, I’m not King Steve anymore. Just Steve. I’m done with all that artificial shit, and I’m never going back. I want something real. Something that makes me feel anything more than dull acceptance of what I’ve always been told I should be. What I should want. I’m done with… with the bullshit. I just want real.”
Eddie was quiet for a minute. The rumble of the car felt loud, as if it were growling its displeasure with Steve’s vulnerability. That wouldn’t surprise him. It was a gift from his father, after all. When Eddie spoke, his voice was hesitant. “And… you think I’m real?”
“Dude, are you kidding?” he asked, looking at him with raised eyebrows. “You’re the realest person I’ve ever met. You’re so weird, but in a good way. And like, yeah, I don’t know you that well yet. But I’d like the chance to change that. If you’ll let me.”
Steve was pretty sure he heard Eddie mutter the word “Jesus” under his breath. It seemed like Eddie wanted to say something more, but just then Steve pulled into the trailer park and Eddie had to give him directions to the correct trailer. Once they came to stop beside Eddie’s van, he remained in the car. Steve tapped his fingers on the wheel.
“So, I’ll uh, see you on Wednesday? Or, I mean, I’ll see you on Monday at lunch, but I’ll see you at the show on Wednesday.”
The look Eddie gave him then looked almost fond. “Yeah, Stevie, I’ll see you then.”
Stevie. That was new. It was… nice. A better nickname than the ones he’d carried like cargo in the past. And it didn’t even look like Eddie had meant to say it, just a casual flip of a word, as if it were as easy as that. And god, Steve wanted it to be. Easy, that is. Nothing ever was, for him.
“Cool. Later, man. Call me if you want. I’ll be home.”
Eddie climbed out of the car and slammed the door behind him before dropping down to rest his forearms on the open window. “Well, if Sir Steve is asking me to call on him, how could I possibly refuse?”
“Hey, I said—”
“I know, I know. Not a king. But you could still be a knight. I always thought they were cooler anyways.”
With that, Eddie straightened up and sauntered away, his hand slipping into his back pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes as he went. Something warm settled in Steve’s chest as he watched him go. Eddie stopped at his doorstep and turned back, a cig hanging from his lips as he lifted his hand in a wave. Before Steve could return it, he’d already turned away and pushed his way into the trailer.
Steve sat there for a few moments more, just staring at where Eddie had been. A knight, he’d said. Now, Steve didn’t know much about history or any of that fantasy stuff Dustin was always going on about, but he did know enough to understand that knights were good guys. Noble, right? Protected those who needed it, defended those who couldn’t defend themselves. They were fighters. Just like Steve. Yeah. A knight. He could be that.
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