#high possibility i am going to silently linger on Mobile so i can keep up what happening

[tides-of-clarity]

Mini hiatus alert.

[reddielibrary]

Eddie, You Had One Job

Written by @greenornaments

Gift for @eduardoandale

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Eddie Kaspbrak

Word count: 4,937

Rating: Teen

AO3 Link - https://archiveofourown.org/works/21248489

Summary: Eddie can’t think of anything he’d rather do less than spend his Friday night at the drama department’s annual haunted attraction. Little does he know, he’s about to have a life changing encounter with one Richie Tozier....

Eddie trudged along, shivering in the chilly October air despite the warmth of his fleece hoodie. He couldn’t believe he had allowed Bill and Stan to talk him into spending his Friday night going to the haunted house put on by their university’s drama department. The three of them hardly ever got to hang out lately, what with midterms and part-time jobs demanding much of their free time, and Eddie’s suggestion for this rare night of togetherness had been to rent a stack of movies (or even better, videogames) and hole themselves up in his and Stan’s dorm room with a healthy supply of popcorn, chips, and soda. 

However, Bill, the resident drama geek, who had worked the haunted house for the past two weekends, had suggested that they all check it out from an audience’s perspective. Stan had, of course, readily agreed, so unfortunately, Eddie had been outvoted. Which was a shame because he’d really been looking forward to a relaxing night with just them, not them plus a hundred other people in frosty temperatures while his fingers turned into mini popsicles. 

“Step it up, Ed, or we’ll never get there,” Bill called out to him, turning his head back to look at Eddie, who was several strides behind his friends. 

“I’m gonna say it again, this is dumb,” Eddie grumbled. “It’s fucking freezing out. We’re all going to catch hypothermia and die, if we don’t catch the flu first from being surrounded by so many people during peak season. Besides, it’s not like you don’t know what this thing is like, you’ve worked it.”

“Yeah, but you guys haven’t seen it yet,” Bill pointed out. “And we’ve all worked really hard on it, so I wanna see how you like it.”

“Come on, Eddie. It’ll be fun,” coaxed Stan. “Besides, do you really want to spend every weekend of your entire college experience in your room?” he added. 

“Yes, because at least my room is clean. At least MY half of it is,” replied Eddie, which caused Stan to roll his eyes in exasperation. 

“Don’t worry, Eddie, we’ll be there to protect you if it gets too scary,” teased Bill. 

“I am NOT scared,” Eddie declared firmly. He wasn’t, not really. Sure, sometimes horror movies and stuff frustrated him. He was usually the one to cover his eyes whenever they watched them together, after all. Granted, some (well, most) of the time it was because he literally could not watch someone make a stupid decision that led them right into the monster’s trap without getting irrationally angry and going off on a rapidfire tangent that quickly made the other boys regret watching with him. But still. 

Mostly, he wasn’t all that enthused with going to the haunted house because he knew Stan and Bill were going to be all touchy and clingy the entire time and he was probably going to spend the entire evening as a glorified third wheel. 

He saw Bill and Stan exchange a look. “Whatever you say, Ed,” said Stan. “Tell you what, next time we all have a free Friday night, you pick what we do. Deal?”

Eddie sighed. “Deal,” he agreed, resigning himself to an evening of freezing his ass off while being surrounded by a bunch of over-enthusiastic theatre kids who were determined to make him jump out of his skin. 

The three of them made it at last to the edge of the vast field which, in warmer months, usually played host to traveling carnivals, but which was currently sporting a carefully crafted maze made of painted plywood, in addition to a series of temporary mobile buildings, all of which were decorated to look as spooky as possible. Which, if Eddie was being honest, wasn’t very. Crude wooden signs that said things like TURN BACK, BEWARE, and ABANDON HOPE were strategically placed along a pathway that led to a large, black tent adorned with orange and purple string lights. To be perfectly frank, it all looked a lot tamer than Eddie had been expecting, not that he would ever risk hurting Bill’s feelings by saying so. 

A throng of people were already making their way inside the tent. Bill led the way in, Stan following closely behind him, and Eddie bringing up the rear. He looked around, unable to see too much since the inside of the tent was dark except for the spaced out battery-operated lanterns providing the only source of light. They served as illumination for a small, wooden platform that stood in the center of the tent like a stage. A guy, clearly one of the drama students, sat on a stool on top of the platform, holding a microphone in his lap and watching as the tent began to fill with people. He briefly caught Eddie’s eye as their group of three settled in a spot toward the front of the crowd, directly facing the makeshift stage.

“So, what are we waiting for, exactly?” Eddie murmured to Bill as the tent continued to fill up with excited patrons. He rubbed his hands together in an effort to warm them up now that they were semi-inside and out of the cold air. 

“This is the holding area. They’re just gonna explain how the tour works and…” Bill began to explain, but Eddie was only half listening because, in spite of himself, he kept finding his eyes wandering back over to the guy on the platform. Even though he’d silently admitted to himself in high school that he might not be straight, he still had a great deal of difficulty allowing himself to check guys out for more than a few seconds at a time, as though he were always afraid that someone would notice and judge him for it if he let his gaze linger too long. He supposed that came from a lifetime of someone always telling him he was wrong in some way, whether that be kids at school or, usually, his own mother. 

In the dark tent, though, he felt a bit safer letting himself take a good look. Not that there was anything particularly special about this guy. He was just a typical college student. He looked pretty nerdy, really, what with his tacky long-sleeved Hawaiian shirt, unkempt dark hair and huge glasses that took up a sizable portion of his face. It was a very cute face, though, which was probably why Eddie felt like he had to keep stealing glances at it while catching bits and pieces of whatever Bill was saying. 

“.....and you definitely shouldn’t touch the actors,” Bill continued. Eddie blinked, momentarily taken out of his enrapturement with Mr. Hawaiian Shirt. 

“What?”

“You can’t touch the actors, it’s a major rule,” said Bill. “You wouldn’t believe how many times I’ve almost been beaten shitless by some weenie who got too scared.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Eddie with an eyeroll, even as he silently thought that, maybe, he wouldn’t mind touching at least ONE of the actors. He glanced back over to the guy on the podium, who, to Eddie’s absolute horror, was looking right back at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“Motherfuckin shit fuck,” Eddie whispered in a panic as he averted his eyes, his face so burning hot he just knew he was probably as red as a tomato. He hoped it was dark enough that the other guy didn’t notice, but knowing his luck, he probably wasn’t that fortunate. 

“You ok, Ed?” asked Stan, giving him a curious look. 

“Fine,” Eddie mumbled. He only wanted a hole to open up beneath him so he could fall into it and disappear, but yeah, other than that, he was great. He saw Stan and Bill exchange another look out of the corner of his eye, but thankfully, they didn’t press the issue. 

Just then, someone closed the open flap of the tent, plunging it into almost complete darkness. A spooky sound effects tape began to play on a low volume from somewhere across the tent. The lanterns shone onto the platform, where Mr. Hawaiian Shirt was standing up and getting ready to address the audience. 

“Alright, how is everyone doing this fine evening, ladies and germs?” he said into the microphone, his voice reverberating throughout the tent. A mumbled scattering of voices responded, and the guy shook his head in disappointment. 

“Oh, come on, you bitches can do better than that. I said, how is everyone doing?” He thrust the mic out into the audience, who responded with a loud chorus of “GOOOOOD.”

“Beautiful,” said the guy happily, catching Eddie’s eye again as he said the word. “Anyway, my name is Richie and welcome to our humble little haunted attraction!” Ah, so Mr. Hawaiian Shirt had a name. Richie. Eddie filed it away in the back of his mind as he tried to stop his face from flushing every time Richie looked in his direction. 

“Let me be clear, our goal here is to make sure you all have a friggin great time, and we do that by trying to scare the absolute shit out of you,” said Richie into the mic, one hand casually resting into the pocket of his jeans as he leaned against the stool. “I mean, not literally. Please do not actually shit while inside the attraction. A lot of these props and costumes are rented.”

The audience laughed. Eddie bit his lip, pissed off at himself for finding such a gross and lame joke funny. He was determined not to laugh, since Mr. Hawaiian...sorry, RICHIE...seemed to be making a lot of eye contact with him specifically, and Eddie felt it was important that he know that his jokes were stupid. 

“So, like I was saying, this ain’t your mama’s haunted house,” Richie continued, playfully tossing his mic from one hand to the other. “Or maybe it is, I wouldn’t know, cause your mama never called me the next day.” His eyes locked on Eddie’s again as amused giggles rang out from the audience, and if Eddie didn’t know better, he could have sworn that the guy actually winked at him. It was probably a trick of the light reflecting off of his glasses, but even so. He couldn’t believe he still thought this guy was cute now that he’d actually opened his mouth. 

“So anyway, guys, I’m not gonna keep you here, I’m just here to debrief. We just have a few basic ground rules,” said Richie, getting down to business at last. “First, make sure to always follow the lighted paths from one show building to the next, cause nobody has time to go looking for your lost ass. Secondly, no flash photography. We’re all broke college students and we can’t afford a trip to the ER if you blind us and we trip and break a leg. And third, for the same reasons, PLEASE don’t touch us. I know you’ll be terrified ‘cause not every actor here is gonna be as handsome as I am.” He made eye contact with Eddie again as he spoke, and Eddie felt his stomach betray him with an excited flip. Why the fuck did he find this guy so damn intriguing? 

“Some of them will be the scariest shit you’ve ever seen,” Richie continued. “But, keep your paws to yourself and we’ll all have a good time. Are we ready?” 

“YEESSS,” the audience roared out, and the tent opened back up as everyone started to pour out. Eddie cast one last glance back at Richie, who was retreating out the other side. Specifically, he focused on what Richie’s ass looked like in his jeans. You know, just in case he needed to reference it for later. 

“Come on, Ed!” he heard Bill shout. Eddie shook himself and hurried to stick close to Bill and Stan, who were leading the way, hand in hand, down the path toward the first attraction. They all piled into one of the temporary buildings, which was decorated on the inside to look like a dark bedroom, the only source of light coming from several blue-bulbed lamps. A girl in a nightgown lay on the bed with a grotesquely made up face, disregarding everyone in the room except for the guy in a priest costume standing beside her. 

“What an excellent day for an exorcism,” the girl said in a creepy voice that set Eddie’s teeth on edge despite the fact that he was well aware it was just a student in a costume. 

The next building they visited was similarly creepy. This one featured a sad looking ghost boy on a tire swing, slowly swinging back and forth with a forlorn “Won’t you play with me?” Eddie mentally gave it an A for effort. 

The rest of the attractions played out in much the same manner, and it wasn’t until Eddie reached the fifth or sixth unvarying show building that he realized that he’d somehow managed to lose track of Stan and Bill in the crowd of people moving from one section to the next. “Great,” he muttered. “Stan! Bill?” Where the fuck were they? He sighed heavily and curiously peeked inside of the building he was currently in front of. It was full of clowns. 

“Nope,” he murmured to himself, quickly backing out and heading back down the lighted pathway. Creepy clowns were where he drew the line. He looked around for his friends, but couldn’t see any sign of them. Unfortunately, he also couldn’t stand around in everybody’s way, so he had no choice but to keep moving. 

He ran ahead a bit onto a quieter part of the path, toward the maze, where the crowd had yet to reach and started looking around dully, his eyes falling onto a building that was slightly bigger than the others. He walked up to it, trying to peek inside, but he couldn’t see much. He debated with himself briefly over whether to just go inside by himself, finally deciding that whatever was inside couldn’t possibly be that scary. Besides, it would serve his friends right if they couldn’t find him for a little bit. 

He steeled himself and entered the building, which turned out to be empty of patrons and separated into several different rooms. The first room featured more clowns, which sent a shiver down Eddie’s spine even though they were clearly just mannequins in masks. He supposed that the drama department had run out of students willing to give up a third weekend standing around in gross makeup. A room off to the side was dark and empty except for a fog machine and a sound effects tape playing lowly over some hidden speakers. 

“Wow, fake fog, how utterly terrifying,” he mumbled sarcastically. He veered off into the third room, the biggest in the building. This one featured what Eddie assumed to be more mannequins dressed to look, loosely, like classic horror movie monsters. He walked around slowly, taking in the details of Dracula, Frankenstein’s monster, and the Wolf Man, all decorated as accurately as possible, but decidedly not even remotely scary. 

“Lame,” he said to himself with a snort, turning around to check out the Mummy figure on the other side of the room. He was absentmindedly running a finger over the white crepe paper of the figure’s costume when he suddenly heard a loud roar behind him. His stomach dropped to his knees and his heart leaped into his throat as he turned around to see that the Wolf Man, most definitely NOT a mannequin, had moved from his spot and was charging toward him with outstretched arms. 

“AAAAAH!” Eddie let out a blood curdling scream and tripped slightly over his own feet in sheer panic. He felt his hand ball into a fist without him even thinking about it, and before he could stop himself he had used it to deliver a swift punch directly to the Wolf Man’s face, hard enough to hurt his hand and knock the other person backwards onto the ground. 

“Jesus fuck,” the Wolf Man whined as they brought one hand up to their face, the voice muffled by the mask. Eddie just stood there in shock, trying to get his breathing and his heartbeat to return to normal as he absorbed what he’d just done. He fumbled into the fanny pack around the waist of his jeans for his inhaler and took a puff, his eyes keenly focused on the poor, writhing werewolf he’d just sucker-punched into the floor. 

“You got a license for that fuckin right hook?” asked the werewolf, the voice sounding slightly familiar to Eddie. It was hard to place it though, since it was so muted by the rubber of the mask. 

“Oh my fuck...fuck, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t….are you ok???” Eddie put his inhaler away and ran over to the person, who was desperately trying to remove the mask. He knelt down to their level and reached his hands out. “Here, let me help.”

“It’s fine, I got it,” they replied, their fingers finally managing to slip beneath the rim of the mask and pull it off. And if Eddie had been wound up and embarrassed before, that was absolutely fucking nothing compared to how he felt when he realized that it was Richie underneath it. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, his face burning hot and his stomach doing somersaults for an entirely new set of reasons. “Fuck fuck fuck, God, I am SO sorry, man, I...Jesus, I really fucked you up, I’m sorry!” He reached again for his inhaler and took another long puff as he looked over the sight of the rapidly spreading bruise on Richie’s right eye.

“It’s fine, I never really liked seeing out of both eyes anyway,” Richie quipped, wincing as his fingers brushed over his injury. “At least I wasn’t wearing my glasses. Besides,” he added, glancing at the inhaler still in Eddie’s hand, “You’re the one who looks like they’re about to die.” 

“I thought you were a mannequin,” Eddie offered as a weak excuse, flinching as he watched the other boy reach into a nearby wooden box by Dracula’s feet and retrieve his glasses, which he delicately placed on his face. Even as careful as he was, his expression contorted in pain. 

“Yeah, that would be the entire fuckin point,” Richie said. “What did we JUST say back there about touching the actors? I know you heard me.”

“It was a reflex, dude, I’m sorry,” Eddie apologized. “In my defense, you almost gave me a fucking heart attack. I didn’t know you were going to charge at me like that,” he added defensively as he tried to resist the urge to throw himself out a window at the thought that he had literally just punched the same guy he’d been eye-fucking half an hour ago. 

“It’s not like I was gonna touch you,” said Richie. He looked Eddie over with his good eye and grinned cheekily. “Not that I wouldn’t want to, though.”

Eddie’s cheeks flushed again, his heart skipping several beats as his eyes locked with Richie’s dark ones. Had he really just heard… ok, no, quit being dumb, Eddie, he didn’t mean it THAT way. 

“That looks really bad,” he said, casually ignoring the other boy’s words and changing the subject as he gingerly reached his hand up to examine the injury. “Fuck, there’s actual blood. Is there a first aid kit anywhere around here? I could help you fix that up.”

“Yeah, there’s one in the dressing room, I think,” replied Richie, getting up off the floor and unsteadily standing on his feet. “Well, the camper we’re using as a dressing room. It’s just...ow...it’s just out here a little ways. Follow me.” 

Eddie complied, his mortifying embarrassment growing stronger with every step as he followed Richie out of the show building and across the grounds to a small RV parked on the edge of the property. Richie led him inside and plopped himself down on the ratty old sofa that stood against one wall, still holding his eye in pain. “The first aid kit is in the bathroom,” he said, pointing toward a small door across the camper. Eddie went in and took the opportunity to wash his hands in the sink before he quickly found the kit and brought it over, setting it down on the couch. He spotted a small refrigerator next to the sofa and opened it up, grabbing the first cold object he saw, a small can of Coke, which he handed to the other boy. 

“Take off your glasses and put this on your eye,” he said as he took a seat beside him and placed the first aid kit in his own lap. “It will help the swelling go down.”

Richie did as instructed, removing his glasses and holding the can dramatically onto his swollen face as he gave Eddie a saucy smile. “Yes, Dr….uh...I don’t think I caught your name, cutie.”

Eddie blushed. “Eddie,” he said, hoping his voice sounded at least somewhat normal, which was more difficult than it should have been when Richie was staring right at him with those fuckin gorgeous chocolate eyes framed by dark lashes. “Eddie Kaspbrak.”

“Ok, whatever you say, Dr. K,” said Richie. 

“Have I mentioned that I’m sorry?” Eddie asked as he opened up the first aid kit and busied himself taking out an alcohol pad, a bandage, and a small tube of antibiotic ointment. 

“Once or twice.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I had no idea I could even do that,” Eddie continued, gesturing for Richie to remove the Coke can so he could gently dab at the small cut near the bridge of the other boy’s nose with the alcohol wipe. 

“Do what, almost kill a man with your bare hand?” Richie quipped, wincing slightly when Eddie applied a small dot of ointment to the wound. 

“I’d hardly say I almost killed you,” Eddie protested.

“Well, you definitely maimed me, anyway,” said Richie. “I’m gonna have to come up with a better story for when people ask how I almost lost an eye. I can’t tell them I got beaten up by a boy with an inhaler, they’ll think I’m fuckin lame.” He smiled and Eddie’s heartbeat increased, his fingertips lingering on the other boy’s skin for slightly longer than was really necessary. 

“I think your dumb jokes would lead them to think that well before any story about your eye,” Eddie replied dryly as he unwrapped the bandage carefully. 

Richie gave an exaggerated gasp. “Jesus fuck, was bodily injury not enough for you? Now you gotta start hurting my emotions and shit? That’s cold, Eds. Do you mind if I call you Eds?”

“Yes,” muttered Eddie, even though he kind of liked the idea of this boy giving him a nickname. “Don’t call me Eds. Now hold still,” he said as he applied the bandage to Richie’s face. 

“Ok, Eds,” said Richie. Eddie rolled his eyes and finished putting the band-aid on him, sitting back to admire his handiwork. 

“You’re all fixed,” he said, handing the soda can back to him. “Put this back on your face.”

“Yes, Dr. K, sir,” said Richie, teasingly saluting him as Eddie cleaned up the supplies and stood up to throw the bandage wrapper in a nearby garbage can. He sat back down, feeling Richie’s eyes on him and wondering what he should say next that wasn’t just another profuse apology. 

“Eddie!!”

The sound of Stan’s voice outside in the distance snapped Eddie out of his thoughts, and he jerked his head in the direction of the RV’s small window. He’d almost completely forgotten about his friends in all the commotion. He got up from the couch and crossed over to the window, glancing outside to see Stan and Bill close by. The two boys were clearly looking around for him as they stood in the middle of a small crowd of people.

“EEEEEDDDD!” called Bill. 

“It would appear that you’re being summoned, good doctor,” said Richie, suddenly appearing right behind him. Eddie flushed as the other boy’s arm brushed against his own. Richie grinned and reached one hand over Eddie’s shoulder to pry the window open. “We’re in here, Billy!” he called out to them with a wave. The boys looked at Eddie and Richie in the window and then looked at each other oddly before they ran across the field to the RV and burst through the door, their faces red from the cold. 

“There you are,” said Stan, sounding relieved when he saw Eddie. “We didn’t know where you’d gone.”

“We thought you were pissed at us and took off,” added Bill. 

Eddie opened his mouth to reply, but Richie had a faster mouth. “Nah, he took his aggression out on my face instead,” the other boy said jokingly. “Which wasn’t exactly how you promised I’d be introduced to him, Billy,” he added pointedly. 

“Wait, what?” Eddie asked at the same time as Bill finally noticed Richie’s busted face and did a faceplant into his own palm. 

“God, Rich, please tell me you didn’t,” he groaned.

“In my defense, I didn’t think he was going to go all Die Hard on me,” said Richie. 

“Will someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?” Eddie demanded, looking from his friends to Richie and back again. Bill cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. 

“Well, uh….see,” he stammered. 

“Bill wanted you two to meet and hit it off and start dating so we could all hang out sometimes and you wouldn’t feel like such a third wheel,” said Stan calmly as he leaned against the wall of the RV with his arms crossed. “What?” he added when Bill gave him a death glare. “It’s the truth, why waste time beating around the bush?”

Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “Bill, I swear to fucking god…”

“Ok, so maybe this isn’t exactly how I pictured it would go. I was going to introduce you normally after the whole tour was finished,” Bill protested. 

“Guys, just….please leave.”

“Eddie..”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Oh my god just go outside, I’ll meet you in a minute, ok?” His friends sheepishly did as they were told, filing out of the camper and leaving Eddie alone with Richie once again. 

“Great friends you got there, Eds,” teased Richie. 

“Don’t worry, I’m going to murder them later,” grumbled Eddie.

“Aw, don’t kill Billy, he just thought we’d go good together,” said Richie seriously. 

Eddie sighed. “Look, I… um...I’m really sorry. Again. About your face. Really.”

Richie shrugged. “It’s no big, really. I wasn’t that attractive to begin with anyway, so really, you probably just improved things.”

Eddie snorted. “I wouldn’t...I wouldn’t say you weren’t..uh...I mean…” He felt his face start to burn for the fortieth time that evening, and he wished for nothing more than to just disappear from the entire situation before he ended up dying of an embarrassment-induced heart arrhythmia. 

Richie’s mouth curled into a cheeky smile. He dug around in the pocket of his pants, pulling out a small black marker, which he kept in one hand as he suddenly grabbed Eddie’s hand with the other. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Eddie exclaimed as Richie turned his hand over and began writing something on the back of it. 

“Writing my number on your hand,” replied Richie, as though he’d just been asked about the weather. 

“Uh huh. And what the hell am I supposed to do with your number?” asked Eddie, swallowing as his hand tingled at the contact with Richie’s skin. 

“Well, you could play the lottery with it, but mostly I was hoping you’d use it to call me and let me know when you’re free to grab a bite to eat sometime,” said Richie, finishing his work and capping the marker proudly. “You can pay to make up for karate chopping my face.”

Eddie suddenly felt like he was going to die for real, but in a good way, as he looked at the digits and the name ‘Richie Tozier’ emblazoned on his skin like a tattoo. 

“I, uh...I’m...I’m just gonna..” he stammered as he backed away toward the door. Richie just smiled at him as he finally found the handle and let himself out, the other boy cheerfully calling out “Talk to you soon, Eds!” as Eddie scrambled down the stairs of the camper and almost ran right into Stan and Bill, who were trying to pretend they hadn’t been standing with their ears pressed up against the vehicle. 

“Ok,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm as they turned to face him, both of them looking guilty but interested. “I’m not going to kill you….TONIGHT… but in the future I’d like a little advanced warning before you decide to set me up with someone. Got it, BILL?” he said pointedly, glaring daggers at his friend, who blushed remorsefully. 

“Got it,” Bill squeaked. 

“Ok,” said Eddie, holding his head up high. “Then let’s go the fuck home.” The three of them started back across the field and Eddie cast one last glance back, catching a glimpse of Richie watching them leave through the window. The other boy waved, and, in spite of himself, Eddie gave a small wave back before he kept walking. 

He glanced down at his hand and felt himself start to smile, because yeah, he was definitely going to give Richie Tozier a call later.

[klovenhooves]

If These Walls Could Talk, Chapter Two

As accustomed as she was to early rising, Anna’s eyes still fluttered open at 7 a.m. the next morning, in spite of her hangover, in spite of her desperate attempts to forget what last night had entailed and the potential embarrassment it could bring. Still, she was wide awake, the throbbing in her head a steady beat that couldn’t lull her back into dreamland. Instead, she was forced to sit up, her head in her hands, her hair falling around her shoulders and subsequently shielding her eyes from the early morning sun.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, her mind tracing over the previous night without lingering too long on that one bit she didn’t want to think about, before she was roused from her reverie by a knock at her front door. With a groan, she heaved herself to her feet, grabbed her robe from the little hook by her bedroom door, and slipped the satin material over her shoulders.

She just barely caught a glimpse of pink, glittery lipstick on the inside of her wrist as she reached for the front door. Mary’s lipstick.

“I figured if anyone needed a bone dry, no foam cap, it would be you,” Ben’s voice was just slightly raspy, a reaction to alcohol, and Anna gratefully took the cardboard to-go cup. “Want to go outside? Walk through the park and talk?” His eyes landed on Anna’s robe; he raised his eyebrow. “After you change, of course.”

Anna surveyed her friend, dressed in pressed khakis, a dark blue v-neck shirt and a dark green sweater with leather elbow patches. He looked his usual self, but there were bags under his eyes, an extra tussle to his hair that wasn’t usually there. His smile was encouraging, almost teasing, but his eyes were worried.

She took a sip of the scorching liquid, hissing as it burned her tongue. “Why do I have a feeling this is important?” she asked.

“I don’t usually pull a hungover Anna Strong from her bed on a Saturday morning,” Ben acknowledged. “Only when I have something to discuss with her.”

“She understands, begrudgingly,” Anna tossed over her shoulder on her way to her bedroom. “Grab a croissant from the bread box,” she added as she heard him step farther into her home. “One for me too!”

Ben had the croissant in question ready for her when she emerged from her bedroom, her long hair tied into a high ponytail and her jogging clothes firmly in place. He passed it to her with a raised eyebrow.

“We going jogging?” he asked.

“Shut up, I need to do laundry,” she grumbled, tearing a piece of the croissant and staring at it before putting it in her mouth. Ben stared at her while she chewed pensively, as if trying to decide if she made a good decision in eating. “I thought you were taking me to the park,” she said pointedly.

***

“So…I finished my croissant almost a quarter of a mile ago,” Anna said, her eyebrows raised. “Are you going to tell me why you asked me into the sunlight so early on a Saturday? Or am I supposed to just guess?”

Ben chuckled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Finally, her curiosity and her concern piqued, Anna grabbed his arm and stopped him. They paused in the middle of the walkway, the occasional jogger slipping past them like a phantom breeze while she studied his face.

“Ben,” she coaxed. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

He nodded, but still didn’t speak. Anna wanted to let him find the words himself, she truly did, but at this point, she was nervous, and when she got nervous, she started talking.

“Come on, what did you do?” she asked, nudging her friend in the arm. “Did you get too drunk last night at the Halloween party? Did you misnumber the pages on one of Arnold’s briefs and you need me to sneak into his office and replace it?” Ben laughed for real this time, the sound rich and comforting, and Anna relaxed a little. “Did you,” she drew out the word, casting her mind around for a possible explanation, “did you drunk dial one of those little old lady clients that keep coming to you for frivolous lawsuits so they can see you in your tight pants?” he rolled his eyes. What, did you sleep with Arnold, finally?”

The laughter halted, almost frighteningly fast, and Anna had to slowly bring her eyes up from her coffee cup to Ben’s bright red face. “Benjamin Francis Tallmadge, you didn’t!”

“You’re right, I didn’t – ”

“How dare you get my hopes up like that –”

“But I did…I did maybe, sort of hook up with one of the name partners –”

Her screech of glee shook some birds from the tree nearest them. Ben grimaced at the sound, covering his still blushing cheeks with his free hand. “But it wasn’t Arnold?” she needled. “You’ve been crushing on that man since he laid eyes on you.”

“No, not Arnold.”

“Then…Andre?” Anna guessed. “Because I was pretty sure he was hooking up with Robert –”

Very slowly, Ben shook his head again.

“Benjamin fucking Tallmadge –”

“That’s not my middle name –”

“You hooked up with George Washington?” she was borderline screeching again, and this time, Ben covered her mouth with his hand, shushing her as a biker turned his head to better hear her as he sailed by. “I’m sorry,” she said against his hand. “I’ll behave.” He lowered his hand from her mouth, his eyes still squinted, as if waiting for her to start yelling again. “So…how was it?”

He glanced away from her, as if trying to find the right words for question he never thought she’d ask. “It was…well…” he chuckled slightly, a breathy exhale that Anna jumped on.

“That good, huh?” she asked with a smirk.

He didn’t answer. She considered his face closely for a moment, catching sight of a lot more than just embarrassment and giddiness on his face. Finally, he turned back to her, spotted a bench not far off, and directed her to it.

“If it was good, then what’s the problem?” she asked.

“He – he asked me to keep it a secret,” Ben admitted, worrying his lip between his teeth. “But…”

“But you’re terrible at keeping secrets,” Anna finished. “That presents a problem.”

“It does,” he said leadingly, just enough that Anna furrowed her brow, trying to decipher his meaning. “But I figure you can help with that.”

“Me?” Anna asked. “I – I don’t understand –”

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend,” Ben said it so fast, the words so muddled, that Anna had to ask him to repeat himself several times before the statement sunk in. Even after that, she struggled to find the right words that weren’t rude.

“Ben, I’m not sure I can,” she said honestly. “I mean…what will Abe say?” What will Mary say? “And Caleb?”

“I’ll tell Caleb so he’ll keep his mouth shut,” Ben waved off his best friend’s name. “And who cares what Abe says? I thought you were done with him?”

“I am!”

“Anna,” he reached for her hands, settling on only one of them when the other one brought her coffee to her mouth. “I’m a much better actor than I am a liar. I can’t let this – indiscretion – ruin my possibility to become junior partner. If those lawyers know that I’m…”

“That you’re gay,” Anna finished for him, feeling an ache in her chest. Self-consciously, she wiped her wrist, still stained slightly pink, onto her tights.

“It’s a weakness they can exploit,” Ben finished. “Please, Anna.”

There were so many things Anna wanted to say. How could this weakness cripple his career if Andre, Arnold, and Washington obviously had no trouble indulging in dalliances with other men? How could Ben think this would keep him from upward mobility? But even as she thought it, she understood her own situation, a harsh reality she didn’t want to think about: while Ben could probably survive that scandal unscathed, she and Mary would not. There was a distinct difference in the acceptance of two men in a relationship than two women, especially in their profession.

Two women together was frivolous, was done for attention, and was definitely a cause for ridicule.

She couldn’t do that to Mary.

“Fine,” she relented, squeezing Ben’s hand before extricating it. “But we tell Caleb and Robert, and that’s it.”

“Deal,” Ben said immediately. “Thank you Anna, you’re the best.”

“Best friend,” she said firmly. “But I suppose I can be the best girlfriend too.”

***

Monday came far too quickly for Anna’s taste; she felt like she was getting ready for the first day of school. Nerves coiled in her belly all the way to her chest, enough that the steady increased rate of her heartbeat felt like a harsh kick drum. She had to put her coffee in a travel mug, her hands already too shaky for her to, with good conscience, add more caffeine to the disaster recipe.

Ben met her downstairs, his tie perfectly knotted, his hair perfectly coiffed. Anna felt, momentarily, slovenly standing beside him.

“You look great,” he said quietly to her. “Don’t be nervous.”

“Who said I was nervous?” Anna asked bitingly, her eyes fixed on the elevator.

“You’ve completely bit all of your lipstick off your bottom lip,” he replied. “You do that when you’re anxious.”

“Oh, how boyfriend-y of you to say,” she answered sarcastically, already fishing in her purse for her lipstick. He chuckled but did not answer her, and it wasn’t until the silence lingered a little longer that Anna realized that he must be even more nervous than she was. He hadn’t looked at her for longer than half a moment yet, his eyes fixed on the numbers at the top of the elevator, his hand tight around his briefcase.

Gently, tentatively, with all the grace of a brand new fake-girlfriend, she took his other hand.

“It’s going to be fine,” she said soothingly. “Just be as normal as you can. We’ll meet up for lunch in the café downstairs so we can be seen, and that’ll be it.”

In response, Ben squeezed her hand gently, a silent thank you that she accepted. They stood that way for a few more moments, waiting for the elevator doors to open. As the doors finally, mercifully, slid open, Anna heard the quiet clicking of heels that brought her reeling back to the Halloween party. She had a momentary urge to pull her hand out of Ben’s, but there was no use. There was no way Mary didn’t see them holding hands.

“Anna?” As if to make the day even better, it wasn’t Mary’s voice that called her name, but Abe’s. “Ben?”

Blue eyes met brown ones, and Ben raised his eyebrows. She could read his expression there as easily as her own. Out of the frying pan, into the fire.

“Morning, Abe,” Anna said, struggling to sound completely unbothered. As she pulled Ben into the elevator, she managed to catch sight of Mary standing beside Abe, her eyes still on their joined hands. “Mary.”

“Ms. Strong,” Mary’s voice was cold, almost icy, and Ben cleared his throat quietly in the silence that followed.

“So…” Abe seemed to be struggling to find the right words. “You two are…”

“Yep,” Ben pulled Anna closer to his side, releasing his hand from hers to wrap his arm around her shoulder.

“Since when?” Abe’s eyes were on Anna’s now, a tempest swirling in his gaze that she recognized. Jealousy. Mary lowered her eyes to the floor.

“Since…” Anna trailed off. They had never decided when they started dating. How had they forgotten that important detail? “Since…you know…”

“A couple of weeks ago,” Ben said firmly. “Isn’t that right, Annie?”

His fingers very gently pressed into her arm a little harder than before. Still, Anna’s eyes were on Mary, who was determinedly studying the floor. Finally, the door opened on their floor and Mary was able to push her way out, leaving Abe, Anna, and Ben behind.

“A couple of weeks ago?” Abe repeated. “Why didn’t I hear about this?”

“You didn’t ask,” Anna shrugged. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go….file…something. Babe,” she practically choked on the word – she loathed its usage, but Ben turned to her, surprise written all over his face. “See you for lunch?”

“Of course,” he replied, pressing a momentary kiss to her cheek. To avoid Abe seeing her blush, Anna rushed off, through the crowd of first-year associates, and was completely unsurprised to hear his footsteps follow her.

“Anna, wait!” he called. Instead of slowing down, she sped up. “Anna, come on.”

Finally, as she reached her cubicle, Anna was forced to stop and let him catch up to her. Still, she kept her eyes on the files on her desk, haphazard from a weekend away. She felt him sidle up beside her, as if trying to keep their conversation private, despite the dozens of other associates in the same room.

“You and Ben?” he asked incredulously. “You expect me to believe that?”

Anna shrugged. “Believe what you want, Abe, it’s a free country.”

“Oh don’t give me that,” Abe snapped. “What about us?”

“What about us?” Anna replied sharply. “You mean…the us that ended when you and Mary got divorced? The us that you couldn’t keep up with because you wanted to enjoy being single? That us?”

“Don’t be petty –”

“Why not?” Anna asked. “You expect me not to notice that you came to work with Mary this morning, and then you have the nerve to question my relationship with Ben? Pot calling the kettle petty, don’t you think?”

“Mary and I had breakfast together to talk about Thomas –”

Ignoring the sharp pain in her chest at the idea of Mary and Abe on a breakfast date, Anna scoffed. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“Anna –”

“See how I did that?” she asked sarcastically. “I let you do what you want, because we are not in a relationship. You should try it. I’ll wait.”

“You and I both know that you and Ben have been friends since childhood,” Abe hissed. “I don’t know what you two are trying to prove, but it’s obvious that you’re not dating.”

“Did you know, Mr. I Know Everything About Anna’s Life, that Ben was my first kiss, in the fifth grade?” Anna asked, relishing in the shock that washed over Abe’s face. “Yep, under the slide at recess.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re in a relationship now,” Abe pointed out.

“Fine,” Anna snapped. “Believe what you want. I don’t care.”

“Yes you do,” Abe’s voice was smug, “or else you wouldn’t be so angry.”

With a huff that made her nose ache, Anna stomped away from Abe, who followed, apologizing in that way he was wont to do, with platitudes and justifications without any sort of genuine apology. She ignored him, her eyes searching the cubicles and offices for the person she was looking for. Finally, she spotted Ben standing beside Caleb’s cubicle, his arms full of briefs.

He managed to catch her eye for half a moment before she kissed him full on the mouth, knocking the briefs out of his hands and onto the floor. It was surprisingly easy to kiss him if she kept her eyes closed and tried to forget that she knew Ben when he was too tall for his knobby knees and his teeth had that little gap in them before he got braces.

Finally, after a moment, he slid his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him, a laugh escaping his mouth when she pulled away for a moment before dropping another peck on his lips. She hoped he could see the apology in her eyes; she hoped he could see Abe’s infuriated face behind her and would understand. But she didn’t stick around to find out.

“Real enough for you?” she asked Abe before stomping away and leaving all three childhood friends standing in stunned silence.