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moonchildreads · 1 year ago

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small town

Chapter 20 - Self Control

IN THIS CHAPTER: The last high school party, apple flavored Kool-Aid, and Andy gets what he deserves [10.3k]

WARNINGS: underaged drinking, mentions of drug use (weed), slut shaming, a little misunderstanding (gets resolved really quickly), suggestive themes? (very mild, eddie's just a little bit wired, okay?)

A/N: i know i'm a day late, i'm sorry T.T someone got fired at my job and i'm supposed to handle their shit now because my boss is kinda cheap. it is what it is. BUT. hopefully this chapter makes up for my tardiness because as you can probably tell from the banner, the slow burn is officially boiling, you guys! enjoy <3

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In the night, no control Through the wall something's breaking

Saturday, May 31st - 1986

Dottie was pacing like a nervous dog in a cage, feet hitting the soft rug in front of her closet with each step she took. It was the first Saturday in a long time that she hadn't spent in a blissful domestic bubble with Eddie and she was feeling downright antsy. The night before, once Hellfire had officially said goodbye to its Class of '86, the two teens had sat themselves in a booth at the back of The Hideaway with burgers, fries, and milkshakes, and something had finally clicked into place for her. There was no longer a specific need for them to spend so much time together anymore - no more exams to study for, no more books to read or worksheets to fill, and yet there they were still, on a Friday night, getting food together like usual. Sitting opposite of Eddie in that booth, watching him try to lick ketchup from the corner of his mouth and not reaching the smudge with the tip of his tongue, it dawned on Dottie that she had never loved anyone the way she loved him.

It wasn't that Dottie hadn't loved throughout her life, because truthfully she had. She had loved her Dad first, tiny fingers wrapping around a big thumb when she was just a few hours old. She'd loved her Grandparents, all four of them equally, but maybe no one should tell them that Grandma Jo leaving after a visit would always cause the biggest sobs to escape her tiny toddler body. She'd loved her Uncle Johnny, always cuddling up to him while they lived together, not really understanding that he wasn't actually her Uncle until it was too late to start calling him anything else. She'd loved her friends back in New York, even though she knew now that they hadn't loved her back in return. Hell, she'd loved Tyler, or else it wouldn't have hurt as much as it did when he broke her heart. Dottie wasn't someone that didn't know what loving meant or felt like, but the way she loved Eddie was unlike any other kind of love she had ever experienced before, and she knew she had to tell him sometime soon or she'd regret it for the rest of her life.

But first, there was prom, and graduation, and most pressingly, a party for which she had absolutely no idea of what she was going to wear, hence the continuous pacing. James, tired of hearing the back and forth on the wooden floors for the last fifteen minutes, came into his daughter's bedroom resigned to play stylist for the night like he'd done so many times before. Keeping up with the latest trends for the sake of his little girl was a full time job he had long ago learned to love.

"Do you know what Nancy is gonna wear?" he asked, sitting down at the end of Dottie’s bed.

"No, I didn't think to ask. But she always looks so pretty, Dad, I can't look like a bum."

"How about you tell me what you don't want to wear and we can start from there, okay?"

Thirty minutes later, Dottie had an outfit laid out where James had been sitting and she was doing her makeup in a hurry before Nancy picked her up. The plan was simple: go to the party, say hi to Chrissy and thank her for the invite, hang out with Nancy for a bit, meet up with the boys, and if the party sucked, head over to Jeff's for a movie night. He'd rented Ghoulies and Weird Science for the weekend and he still hadn't seen either, so it seemed as good a backup plan as any. Besides, movie nights had always meant sharing a blanket with Eddie and cozying up to him when she got sleepy. No matter what ended up happening, she knew her night wouldn't be completely terrible.

"Honey? Are you done yet? Nancy is here!" James yelled from the bottom of the stairs.

"I'll be down in a second!" she hurried to put on her clothes and ran down the stairs to meet her friend, crossbody bag bouncing behind her and hitting her backside.

She found Nancy politely making small talk with her Dad on the foyer; James had gone to school with her mom Karen and had fond memories of sharing a desk with her throughout their many years at Hawkins’ various academic buildings. They hadn't exactly been friends, but they always were on good terms and had even worked on a few projects together, namely one about growing sprouts from beans in mason jars when they were in middle school.

"Hey! Sorry for making you wait," Dottie said, stopping to hug Nancy who was better prepared to receive it than she had been in the school’s bathroom a day before.

"You're fine, don't worry about the time," Nancy reassured her. "There aren't any schedules to keep at these parties, everyone just comes and goes when they want to."

"Oh, good to know that we can just leave whenever if it sucks."

"Speaking of that," James said, getting his daughter's attention. "Call me if you're staying at Jeff's, okay? I'll come pick you up tomorrow."

"Donny can drop me off, you don’t gotta come," she waved her hand nonchalantly.

"Okay, but call me anyway so I know where you are. Take care you two, don't get too wild."

"Dad, seriously," Dottie rolled her eyes, exasperated but not without fondness. She knew he worried too much, but after all they’d been through, she couldn't blame him.

"Have a good night, Mr. Burke, it was nice to meet you," Nancy said, heading out with Dottie at her heels.

"You too, Nancy. Say hi to your parents for me, will you?"

The girls got into Nancy's car and drove away towards Loch Nora, the radio playing The Rolling Stones’ Harlem Shuffle softly in the background. They talked about random things, filling the empty space with the kind of anxious but lighthearted conversations one would have with someone they don’t know very well yet. So far their budding friendship had proved satisfactory for both girls, and they were willing to put in the effort to get to know one another better, even when that meant having to venture outside the comfort zone The Weekly Streak’s newsroom provided. During the ride Nancy complimented Dottie's outfit, and in turn, she had loudly admired hers, prompting the blue-eyed girl to admit she'd borrowed the shiny jacket with padded shoulders from her Mom’s wardrobe. After a good-natured laugh, Dottie admitted she had stolen her dress from her Mom’s closet too and Nancy told her her Mom had good taste. When they parked across the street from Jason Carver's house however, the friendly chatter ceased and both girls stared at the two-storey rising in front of them with apprehension.

"I'm so nervous," Dottie admitted, watching the colors spilling from the fairy lights inside the living room paint the veranda red, then green, then blue, and finally back to red.

"Me too," Nancy said, taking a shaky breath. "But we got this. How bad can it be?"

"Yeah. You’re right. It’ll be fun," Dottie nodded, and arm in arm they ventured inside the packed house in search of good old teenage normalcy.

Neither Nancy nor Dottie were having the slightest bit of fun. After a few shouted-over-loud-music hellos to some familiar faces, they had found themselves in Jason’s kitchen, nursing cups of a strange brown concoction that didn’t smell good and tasted even worse. Dottie wasn’t much of a drinker, and apparently Nancy wasn’t either, citing that the last time she’d gotten drunk, she’d embarrassed herself so badly she’d rather not have a repeat. The jocks and popular kids disagreed heavily with that assessment, and were having a lot of fun with two kegs in the backyard next to the pool. Dottie had suggested they venture out, sit by the water where it wasn’t as stuffy, but Nancy had quickly directed her into the kitchen where they ran into Marcie Hurley, an acquaintance from the newspaper club. Marcie was a lovely tall girl with a bold pixie cut; she was currently slightly intoxicated but full of ideas for stories to run in the last edition of The Weekly Streak before summer holidays started. Nancy pretended to listen to her with her utmost attention, but Dottie could tell by the way her eyes were glazed over that she was definitely calculating how much more she’d have to hear before she could get away without coming across as rude. Two girls Dottie didn’t know walked into the kitchen searching for something fruity to drink when they said something that caught her attention.

“What do you mean Munson said no?” one of the girls was saying.

“He said he wasn’t selling tonight! Which is honestly such bullshit, he was smoking with some other guys, he definitely had something on him,” the second girl said, pouring vodka into a cup.

“Show him your tits, maybe he’ll share with you.”

“Ew, I’m not that desperate!” the first one laughed loudly.

Dottie scowled immediately. She’d once gotten curious about him dealing and asked him a couple of questions, like how did he get into selling and if he was allowed to smoke his own product. Eddie hadn’t been particularly proud of his answers, but she told him she didn’t mind: the money helped pay for some bills around the trailer and put food onto their table. It wasn’t like he was dealing hard stuff or was some kind of mafia lord moving tons of product, for fuck’s sake. People talked about him like he had his thumb on the illegal underground in Hawkins when in reality, he was just a teen selling weed and a couple of pills here and there to a few fellow students at parties. Dottie hoped he’d never done something as gross as asking a girl to show him her body in exchange for a couple of hits of a shitty joint. She liked to believe she knew Eddie, and in her opinion he’d never do something like that, but teenagers had never been particularly known for making good choices. Nancy was already looking at her when she turned around, a knowing smile on her face. She nodded towards the door once, and after a whispered “thank you” off Dottie went in search of her friends.

The boys were enjoying the fresh air and sharing a smoke on the veranda at the front of the house, not really ready to go inside and face the music just yet. Donny had picked up Gareth and Jeff on his way to the party, but Eddie had arrived solo just a few minutes after them. They were talking about music, as they often did, when Dottie opened the front door and jumped on Jeff’s back, who flinched in surprise.

“Fucking hell, Dot, you’re gonna kill me someday if you keep doing that,” he said, rubbing his chest.

“I was worried you guys weren’t gonna show up,” she admitted, hanging onto his shoulders. He leaned his weight into her, hands wrapping around her loose wrists like they were backpack straps to keep her in place as they swayed side to side.

��Party sucks that much?” Donny asked, passing along the joint to Gareth.

“I mean, it’s not like I know a lot of people here. I’ve been hearing Nancy talk to other girls all night, and I think she’s as fed up as me.”

“Wanna ditch?” Jeff asked.

“We’re not leaving until I drink my fuckin’ weight in rich people’s beer,” Gareth declared, giving the cig to Eddie who took a long drag and put the roach out on the underside of the railing he was leaning against.

“If you want beer, there are a bunch of cans in the kitchen but you gotta fish them out of the cooler and someone spilled something green in there. It’s kinda gross,” Dottie grimaced.

“What? No keg?”

“Actually, there’s two in the backyard but the basketball team took ownership of one and I think the football team was doing handstands on top of the other one.”

“That’s so fucking lame,” Donny scoffed.

“Well then, who’s down for fishing?” Jeff looked at the guys, and Gareth shrugged, putting his hands in his jean pockets and following him inside.

“You coming?” Donny asked Eddie who didn’t move from his spot.

“Nah, gonna smoke a cig first. You go ahead,” he said, getting his Camels out of his front pocket.

Donny headed back inside and then it was just Dottie and Eddie under the moonlight, the tiny lamp above the front door doing nothing to shield them from the darkness. Eddie smiled, putting the cigarettes back in his pocket and opening his arms so Dottie could sheepishly tuck herself into him. She felt like she could finally breathe easy when feeling his chest rising up and down under her cheek, his warmth seeping into her bones.

“Too many people?” he asked knowingly, cupping the back of her head with one of his hands. Her fingers drew patterns on the soft cotton of his shirt.

“Mhm,” she nodded. “This is nice.”

“Yeah? You like my shirt?”

“Smells good,” she laughed. He smelled like Old Spice aftershave and laundry detergent.

“Why, thank you for noticing I showered, princess,” he said, grinning. “You look pretty. This your Mom’s dress?”

“Yeah,” she beamed, looking down at her shift baby blue dress. “I didn’t know what to wear so I just played it safe. The socks are new though,” she lifted her leg to show her white ankle socks with frills under her black kitten heels.

“So cute,” Eddie pouted theatrically, making her slap his chest in return. “No, really. You look nice.”

“Thanks,” she settled back against him, cheeks burning.

They enjoyed each other’s presence for a few seconds when the front door opened with a bang, an overexcited and red-eyed Chrissy Cunningham spilling out from the inside, her giggles following her as she skipped towards them in tune with the music coming from the speakers in the living room.

“Am I interrupting something?” she asked, a mischievous grin gracing her fairy-like features.

“Hey, Chris,” Eddie smiled, still holding onto Dottie as she turned in his arms to take a look at the newcomer. “How was your latest purchase?

“It was so good. Valerie, Julie and I just smoked a joint each in the bathroom,” she whispered conspiratorially, making Dottie laugh.

“Oh my. What would Jason say if he knew you were hotboxing his shower?” Eddie matched her tone.

“What Jason doesn’t know won’t hurt him. D’you want to smoke with us later, Dot? Only girls allowed.”

“Sorry, I’m not really a smoker,” Dottie said, feeling a little bit dumb. “But I’ll take you up on that Queen song you promised me yesterday if you wanna dance.”

“Oh my God, yes!” Chrissy grabbed her arm and pulled her out of Eddie’s grasp. “She’s mine now, Ed!”

“I can see that. I’m gonna go get a beer,” Eddie said, following them inside. “Have fun, ladies!”

“We will!”

Weed affects different people in different ways. That was a fact Dottie knew after spending so much time with the members of Corroded Coffin, better known as her best friends. Donny was always virtually the same after a good session, just got very thirsty. Eddie would get deep and thoughtful, and once the effects were gone, he’d get so hungry he’d eat drywall if it was the only thing around. Gareth, like Chrissy, would get giggly once he hit that sweet spot. It was like drinking, Donny had told her once. Everyone had a different tolerance, and most of the time taking a few hits of a shared joint wouldn’t be enough to change anyone’s personality significantly. There were other people like Jeff, for example, who had a very low tolerance and had decided to stop smoking altogether after realizing he’d get panicky and his clothes would always start itching each time he indulged in the vice with his friends. None of them had ever questioned him or pressured him to smoke after that, the same way that they didn’t pressure Dottie to smoke or drink when they were doing it around her. They’d always smoke outside, and Dottie and Jeff were free to lounge around on the couch and talk about anything and everything until they all regrouped inside again. Watching Chrissy be so carefree and joyful made Dottie think that maybe she’d enjoy being invited to one of their movie nights some day.

Chrissy, on the other hand, was a girl on a mission. There were no movie nights being planned in her head; she was instead focused on getting information out of Dottie to relay to Eddie at his earliest convenience. Chrissy liked Dottie, she really did. She liked how kind and attentive she was despite always walking around with an anxiety cloud above her head. She liked how she dressed, with her vintage clothing and big earrings Chrissy couldn’t wear because it’d be dangerous for a cheerleader to be tossed around with hoops or fun acrylic shapes dangling from her ears. She liked how she made Eddie feel, and Chrissy liked Eddie very much, so that just cemented Dottie in her mind as a good person to have around. And so, the blonde lulled her into a sense of comradery with heartfelt compliments and wild dances, trying to get to the bottom of the question she’d had swirling around in her brain for two months now: do you like my friend or is he wasting his time to end with his heart broken? To her credit, what came out of her mouth was much more subtle than that.

“Eddie’s awesome, isn’t he?” Chrissy asked, casting her line into the sea and waiting for Dottie to bite.

“Yeah, he’s great!”

“He was so right about us being friends! I’m so happy you came!”

“Well, thank you for inviting me!” Dottie smiled at her, and Chrissy squeezed her hand in response.

The party was in full swing now. Nancy had found a couple of classmates she got along with and finally managed to escape Marcie’s insistent newspaper talk; she looked much more happy talking to them near the door to the backyard than she’d looked like back in the kitchen. Donny, Gareth and Jeff were fishing out beer cans from the cooler and passing them along to people that normally ignored them in the hallways, their bravery for sticking their hands into the horrid green liquid making them the heroes of underaged teens trying to get unbearably drunk before inevitably throwing up all over Mrs. Carver’s bushes. Eddie stood to a side, near the archway that led to the stairs where bubblegum pink eyeshadow Marianne from his Sociology class had just disappeared up to with his lovesick boyfriend trailing behind her, much to his friends’ jeers and claps. The metalhead had a barely sipped on beer in his hand and hearts in his eyes as he watched Dottie and Chrissy spin around in the middle of the living room, singing along to Top 40 hits and dodging couples making out.

Eddie had never felt happy at a house party before. He’d usually drop by, deal a little bit from the back of his van, and speed away either to Jeff’s house to hang out with his friends or back towards his trailer where he’d smoke and fuck around with his guitar until he’d fall asleep on his tummy with his jeans still on. But standing there, seeing his friends being treated like normal people instead of the dirt beneath a shoe, he felt happy at a party for once in his life. He felt like a normal teenager, like everyone else in the Hawkins High Class of ‘86 saying goodbye to a long school year and hello to the unforgettable summer ahead. Chrissy made a suggestive face at him while dancing around with Dottie and Eddie laughed.

“Hey, Munson!” a familiar voice said, coming to clap his shoulder and snapping him out of his trance.

“Hey, Foster. How are you doing?”

“Weird seeing you here,” Kyle Foster of the Yearbook Club said, looking friendly but fidgety. “You never sell inside at these things.”

“Not selling tonight, man. Just enjoying the beer,” he lifted his can above waist level to demonstrate.

“Ah, dude, that sucks. I had a twenty with your name on it,” he clicked his tongue. “But if our deal still stands, I guess in a couple of weeks you’ll have a bag with my name on it.”

“I’m a man of my word, Foster,” Eddie smirked, shoving his hand into his pocket. “But here, for your troubles.”

He produced a tightly rolled joint from inside his packet of Camels and extended it to Kyle, who looked at him like he’d grown two heads. Never in his entire time being Eddie’s customer had he sold him a pre-roll, much less one that he had intended to smoke himself at some point. He eyed him curiously, not making any moves to pluck it out of the dealer’s hand.

“You sure about that, Munson?” he asked, giving him the chance to recant his offer.

“Yeah, you can have it. I’m not gonna smoke it and I’m feeling generous tonight. Just don’t send anyone else my way, okay? It’s the only one I had.”

“Y-yeah, man, sure! Thanks,” Kyle smiled, grabbing his prize for holding a polite conversation with the town’s freak who felt like less and less of a monster as the school year came to a close. “Here, take the twenty anyways,” he pulled a single bill from his back pocket. “Sorry about, y’know, that whole thing. See you when the yearbooks come out!”

And with that, he shoved the note into Eddie’s hand and left towards the backyard, probably in search of a borrowed lighter to spark up in a corner of Jason Carver’s lush garden. Eddie looked down at his hand, snorted, and put the twenty bucks away to spend another day. Maybe he’d get Dottie a strawberry milkshake like he’d done the day before, only to watch her eyes light up at the first taste and indulge in her pleas because it’s so good, Ed, you gotta try this! They make them with real strawberries! Chrissy found his eyes again over Dottie’s shoulder and stuck her tongue out at him. He clutched his chest like he had been hurt by her, overdramatic as always, and Dottie twirled Chrissy around breaking their eye contact. The songs changed but the girls stayed dancing and he kept on watching them with a satisfied smile on his face. It was a shame, really, that Eddie often became blind whenever he saw the girl he was in love with being truly, completely happy, because if he didn’t, he would have noticed one Andy fucking Humphrey staring at him like he could make the dumb metalhead drop dead in a heartbeat just by looking at him.

Jason Carver wasn’t the typical high school bully you’d see in films. Truthfully, he wasn’t even a bully; he just kept quiet while his friends did all the fucked up things the basketball team was infamous for. He was known as someone who would fly off the handle quickly, but not without reason. He took freshmen and sophomores under his wing, taught them what being a good teammate looked like, gave them a family within the walls of Hawkins High as part of his team. Jason was, if anything else failed, extremely protective and fiercely loyal to his own, and expected the same considerations to be returned to him. So when Andy, one of his best friends since elementary, came running to tell him that The Freak of Hawkins High was trying to flirt with his girlfriend in front of everyone, Jason had no reason to doubt him. Why would he, when Andy had been nothing but reliable all this time?

“What do you think you’re doing, creep?” Jason told Eddie, his tone low, trying not to call too much attention to themselves. Chrissy didn’t need to see this, she didn’t have to know she was being ogled by a pervert under his own roof.

“Drinking your beer, Carver, what does it look like I’m doing?” Eddie said with a sour tone, and instantly knew that had been the wrong answer.

“Yeah? What makes you think you’re welcome in my house?”

“Chill, man, I got invited, same as everyone else.”

“Who would want you here?” Chance Peterson said, appearing at Jason’s shoulder. This was bad.

“Uh, his girlfriend? Just like everyone else?” Eddie deadpanned, putting his can of beer on a ledge and lifting his palms. “Look, I’m really not looking to cause any trouble tonight-”

“Why would Chrissy invite you? You aren’t friends,” Patrick asked, and Eddie held back a scoff. He was willing to bet he knew Chrissy, the real Chrissy, more than any of these meatheads did.

“She invited all the seniors, that’s all there is to it. I’m a senior too-”

“Yeah, a senior citizen, you freak,” Chance said. “Why don’t you go home early and leave us actual seniors alone, huh? What is this, your tenth time trying to graduate?”

“See Peterson, I always knew you didn’t know how to count, but didn’t think you would be so bad at it. Should have known though, it’s not like anyone expects you to do anything that isn’t playing around with your balls. Now why don’t you back off and let your captain here and I have a civil conversation, alright?” Eddie looked down at Chance who narrowed his eyes at him, but Jason threw his arm out to stop him from moving forward.

“We’re not having a conversation, Munson. Back off my girlfriend or leave.”

“I’m not interested in your fuckin’ girlfriend, Carver,” Eddie said, bewildered.

“You say that, but you sure were looking at her before we walked in,” Andy said, stepping around his friends to stand next to Jason. “Wanna explain that?”

“Is looking at someone a goddamn crime now? Can’t exactly leave my eyes at home, you dumbass,” Eddie said, getting loud.

“So you were looking at Chrissy!” Jason yelled.

“No, I wasn’t! Believe it or not, not everyone is fuckin’ in love with your girlfriend, man!”

“Hey, what’s going on here?” Donny flanked Eddie, his voice booming over the sound of the music.

“Back off, dude, what’s your deal?” Gareth threatened Chance when he shoulder-checked him.

People were starting to catch on now, curious eyes looking around for the latest gossip. Jason and Eddie yelling at each other wasn’t exactly new, but both groups of friends having a screaming match at a house party? Now, that was juicy. As everyone started insulting and trying to intimidate each other, Eddie looked around trying to find Dottie in the crowd. She was still dancing with Chrissy, oblivious to the conflict, and now another cheerleader had joined them; he was pretty sure she was a junior and her name was Valerie.

“Hey! Stop looking at her, asshole!” Andy said, grabbing Eddie’s hair and turning his head back towards the imminent fight.

Andy’s voice was loud enough to startle the girls and make them look their way. Chrissy and Valerie paled instantly, hurrying forward to try to contain the scene before it turned truly ugly, leaving a path open behind them for Dottie to follow. Chrissy grabbed Jason’s arm and tried pulling him away when Eddie turned to Dottie and shook his head, his curls still in Andy’s grasp.

“It’s okay, Dot, stay over there!” he told her, not wanting to get her involved and hurt.

But it was too late, because Andy, as stupid as he was, caught on pretty quickly. He hadn’t recognized her before, all dolled up and giggly while she danced with Chrissy and Valerie. He’d simply assumed she was one of their friends, maybe even a junior he hadn’t really paid too much attention to while in school. Insistent on Eddie perving on Chrissy, he’d missed a crucial detail: that the unknown girl she was dancing with was the same girl that had threatened him in the AP Spanish classroom just a week ago. The same one that had told him to stay away from the Hellfire Club. That girl wasn’t Chrissy’s friend, she was a freak, merely blending in with the rest of the school population because she didn’t wear dark colors and leather. Andy turned on her so quickly she didn’t have time to heed Eddie’s warning before he was spewing venom towards her.

“I see now, freak,” Andy said, letting go of Eddie’s hair with a shove and stepping towards Dottie. “You weren’t looking at Chrissy, you were looking at your bitch.”

“What the fuck did you just call me?” Dottie said, angrily.

“That’s what you are, isn’t it? The freak’s little bitch. That’s why you came after me last week, huh?” Andy was seething. “Did he tell you to do that?”

“You brought that on your own by being a smug idiot,” she told him, not backing down from the fight even though she was terrified of him.

“Wait, what are you talking about?” Patrick asked.

“This slut tried to tell Mr. Lorenzo that I cheated on a test if I didn’t leave her friends alone,” Andy explained, once again looking smug. Everyone was watching them now. “Said I was gonna lose my ride to college, acted all flirty and shit. What is it, honey? The freak not giving it to you good enough? Do they all share you, like the big whore you a-”

“Fuck!”

Dottie hadn’t hesitated. Instead, she’d just simply punched him right in the face with her right fist, thumb on the outside like her Grandpa Ken had taught her when they were boxing in his backyard one summer, hitting pillows and humming along to the Rocky theme song while Grandma Caroline made fresh lemonade. The crack that followed the punch was deafening. All chatter ceased and the music was turned off - if a needle were to hit the floor, it would have been so easily heard in the silence that followed her expletive. It had hurt for him, yes, something was definitely broken, but the impact on her knuckles had split the delicate skin covering them, not used to being treated so roughly by colliding against a jock’s bones. Andy pinched his nose with pain, blood starting to pour down his cupid’s bow.

“Wait, no!” Chrissy gasped, as Andy reached over to take someone’s beer can out of their hand and emptied it on Dottie’s head, throwing it away once it was empty. The metal clang on the floor until it hit someone’s shoe.

“What the fuck?” Gareth managed to say, before Eddie launched himself and pushed Andy away from Dottie who just stood there clutching at her hand and looking at the floor in shock.

Her Mom’s dress was ruined, sticky liquid dripping from her hair onto the soft fabric, staining everything as it went down, down, down onto her thighs and legs until it reached her socks. She smelled like an alcoholic and her fingers hurt. She felt empty, adrenaline leaving her body as she shivered while everything around her dissolved into utter chaos. The Hellfire Club and the basketball team were yelling and pushing each other once again, people rushing to get out of their way so they wouldn’t get hit. With the reflexes of someone used to being on alert, Nancy grabbed Dottie’s arm and yanked her aside just in time for Andy to push Eddie off himself and into a side table. Eddie hit the floor with a sickening crunch, but what made everyone stop the brawl was the sound of the lamp on top cracking into a million little pieces right next to the couch.

“Jason, stop this!” Chrissy pleaded, hanging onto his arm.

Andy, not one to be deterred, snapped his head towards Dottie, not caring that Nancy threw an arm out to cover her with her own body. He raised his hand, fully on board with hurting either of them to make a point, when Jason finally snapped into action and grabbed him by the collar, pulling him into Patrick’s arms who instantly held him in place, Chance coming over to help.

“Are you crazy?” Jason yelled at his friend. “We don’t hit women!”

He turned just in time to see Chrissy helping Eddie up, the two of them muttering to each other softly, looking a lot more friendly than he liked. His eye twitched once and he looked at Hellfire as they huddled closer to each other and started inching towards the exit, Nancy and Chrissy herding them out.

“Get out of my fucking house!” Jason told them, like they weren’t already trying to leave.

“Gladly,” Donny said, closing the door behind them and shielding them from further aggressions.

“You guys, I am so sorry,” Chrissy was saying, not knowing who to direct it to first.

“It’s okay, Chris. Not your fault your boyfriend has shithead friends,” Eddie said, patting her shoulder in comfort.

“Still, I should have-,” she cut herself off because there was nothing she could have done; the basketball team and the Hellfire Club were destined to hate each other until the end of time. She turned to Dottie instead. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, I think so. My hand hurts,” she sniffed. “I’m sorry we ruined your party.”

“Oh, please, that party sucked,” Chrissy snorted. “The most fun I had all night was when we were dancing with Val.”

“Come on, let’s get you home,” Donny said, guiding Dottie towards his car.

“I can drive her, I brought her here,” Nancy offered, giving him half a smile. She wasn’t friends with the guys, but she knew enough about them through Mike to have at the very least positive feelings towards them. Besides, it wasn’t like Jonathan hadn’t also been an outcast back when he was still in Hawkins. She knew what that was like.

“No, no,” Dottie hurried to say. “You should both go back to the party. Eddie can drive me, Don, I don’t want to ruin your car.”

“Are you sure?” Chrissy said, not wanting to leave her in such a vulnerable state.

“Yes, I’m sure. Go back inside, it’s your party,” she squeezed the blonde’s hand. “I had fun dancing with you, thank you for inviting me.”

“Maybe we can do it again some day? Just us girls?” Chrissy said, eyes full of hope.

“I’d love that,” Dottie said, and she really meant it.

“Okay, then… let’s go back inside, Nancy. Bye guys, drive safe,” Chrissy waved at them, pulling her cardigan closed and both girls disappeared back into the house.

“Is this a bad time to say that I stole a case of beers?” Gareth said, lifting a 12-pack and bringing some much needed humor to the situation.

“Let’s go back to mine then, we can sneak in through the basement door,” Jeff proposed, and Donny nodded.

“I’m… I’m gonna pass, guys,” Eddie said. “I’ll take her home and head back to the trailer. My ass kinda hurts.”

“Have fun without us, okay? I’m sorry I ruined it,” Dottie said, tears swimming in her eyes. Whether it was because of the shame or the pain in her hand, no one knew but no one asked her either.

“Hey now, you didn’t ruin anything. We’ve got an awesome story to tell the kids someday,” Donny laughed.

“Yeah! We’ll be like: Auntie Dot broke a jock’s nose back in high school because he called her names,” Jeff said, putting on an old man voice and Dottie chuckled wetly.

“Come on, let’s go,” Eddie said, guiding her towards his van with a hand on her lower back.

“I should sit in the back, I’m gonna get your seats dirty,” Dottie said.

“Don’t even think about it, there’s no seatbelts in the back,” he said, climbing in and rummaging around for the tarp they covered Gareth’s drumset with when they moved it for gigs.

The music from inside the house was booming again when Donny’s car pulled into the street and the boys left, saying goodbye by honking twice. Eddie covered the front seat with the tarp and helped her get in, clicking the seatbelt for her in place and jogging to get to the driver’s side. Dottie stared out the window as Eddie turned the van on and backed up into the street, waving at a defeated Chrissy who was looking out from the living room’s window. When Eddie stopped at the first intersection, Dottie turned to look at him.

“Ed?” she asked in a shaky voice. “Can you take me to yours instead?”

The trailer was empty with all the lights turned off when they arrived, which was unusual for a Saturday night. Wayne had always had weekends off, after all, he had a kid at home to take care of and nobody was an asshole enough to ask an old man to come in during his time away with his family. Still, as Eddie kneeled down next to the entrance to help Dottie undo her heel buckles, she looked around while holding onto his shoulders and found herself missing her Mr. Wayne. Eddie had asked her in the van why she didn’t want to go home, and she had simply replied she didn’t want to tell her Dad she’d gotten into a fight just yet. She’d failed to mention that she was expecting Wayne to give her the parental comfort she needed, but without the grounding she was sure she was gonna get from her own father.

“He’s at the plant,” Eddie said, guessing her silent inquiry. “He’s doing extra time this weekend so he can take a couple of days off for graduation.”

“That’s really sweet,” she smiled, stepping out of her shoes now that he’d gotten them unbuckled. The beer that had dripped down her legs had stained the tops of her socks.

“Wait here, okay? I’ll get the shower running for you, the knobs are… well, they’re stupid,” he shrugged with resignation. “You can call your Dad if you want, tell him where you are.”

He started the shower for her while she dialed home, James picking up after a few long rings. He listened to her talk quietly while getting her a towel and clean clothes; she hadn’t exactly asked, but Eddie got confirmation that she wanted to spend the night when he heard her lie to her Dad about being at Jeff’s and having a movie night. Eddie wasn’t about to complain about her not mentioning she was with him if it meant he could sleep next to her for a full night. He went back into the bathroom, lowered the toilet’s lid and put the things he’d gathered for her on top before opening the mirror cabinet and pulling out a new toothbrush along with a packet of makeup wipes. She hung up and walked into the small bathroom after him, looking at the items in his hands with a quirked eyebrow.

“I wear eyeliner for our gigs sometimes,” he admitted. “It always looks like shit, but if it’s good enough for Ozzy, it’s good enough for me.”

“Maybe I can teach you how to do it right sometime,” she said, the corner of her mouth lifting into half a smile.

“Maybe you should just do my makeup so I don’t poke my eye out.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “I’ll do your makeup next time.”

“Kick your clothes out the door when you take them off, I’ll throw them in the washing machine for you,” he said, and left her to her devices.

He went back into his bedroom to give her privacy and get changed into his own PJs, which consisted of an old ratty t-shirt with a couple of holes around the neck and plaid pants he was sure had belonged to Wayne at some point in their lives. While he busied himself changing his sheets into fresh ones, putting her clothes in the washer and making his bedroom look somewhat presentable, Dottie tried to hurry up in the shower, not wanting to use up all the water. Still, she couldn’t help but take her time appreciating the fact that Eddie actually owned conditioner and that the green apple smell that surrounded him in the mornings belonged to the big bottle of shampoo in the corner of the tub. She washed all the beer off her skin and hair and, feeling a lot more like herself, wrapped her body into the soft off-white towel he’d gotten for her, standing at the mirror to rid herself of her make up as best as she could. She brushed her hair quickly, scrunching her curls into the towel to remove the excessive moisture, and brushed her teeth making a note to buy him a new toothbrush to replace the one she’d used. Timidly, she also reached for his deodorant, reasoning that it was better to use it than to stink up his clothes and bed with her sweat.

She was studying herself in the small mirror, not entirely believing that she was wearing Eddie’s clothes, when she realized the light scabbing on her knuckles had probably loosened up with the water and they were all bloody again like she’d never cleaned them up in the first place. Poking her head out of the bathroom, she directed her voice towards his bedroom where she could hear him pottering about.

“Eddie?” she called.

“Yeah?”

“D’you have any bandages? My hand’s bleeding again.”

“Uh, lemme see,” he pushed the door open and rummaged around in the sink cabinet, grabbing a little bag that contained their first aid supplies. “Come, sit on the bed,” he instructed, and she did as he asked without a word.

He kneeled in front of her and inspected her right hand, closing each finger carefully and pressing on parts of her palm to see if anything hurt. Nothing seemed to be permanently broken, so reached over to his bedside table where a cup of water sat and gave her an ibuprofen to help with the swelling before moving on with his next task. She watched him as he worked diligently to clean the scrapes, long thick fingers fluttering softly on her skin.

“What’s the diagnosis, doc?” Dottie asked.

“I’m getting a weird déjà vu here, princess,” he chuckled. “You need to stop getting into trouble before I get into pre-med.”

“Can’t help it. Trouble’s my middle name.”

“I thought it was Ann?” Eddie said, laughing.

Truthfully, he was joking around to hide the fact that he had been losing his mind since she’d opened the bathroom door and came out all rosy-cheeked, smelling like him and wearing his clothes. He’d given her one of his old shirts, a white one he hardly ever used anymore with a Garfield print at the front and his blue checkered boxers, not expecting them to look as big on her as they did. The hem of the shirt almost covered the shorts, and the short sleeves went past her elbows. The less was said about his gray socks that bunched up at her heel, the better, and he tried not to think about the fact that he knew she wasn’t wearing a bra because he’d had the most mortifying pleasure of throwing the cute cotton garment into his washing machine fifteen minutes earlier. Eddie was wrapping up her knuckles with a long piece of gauze when he noticed she’d gone strangely quiet. He looked up at her face to find her teary-eyed and chewing on a wobbly lip.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, holding onto her hand. “Is it too tight?”

“Is that… what everyone thinks about me?” she whispered, like she was afraid of asking out loud.

“I- I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about, darling.”

“Wh-what Andy said. About me being… does everyone think I’m a slut?”

“What? No! Of course not!” he stuck the gauze in place with a piece of medical tape and lifted himself onto his knees between her legs to hug her. “Dot, he didn’t even know who you were until tonight, he was just talking out of his ass.”

“I’m not a whore,” she muttered into his shoulder. “I promise I’m not.”

“Darling, what are you on about, huh?” he grabbed her face with two hands and brought her eyes to his. “I know you’re not. You could sleep with half this town and I still wouldn’t think you’re a whore. You- you can do whatever you want with whoever you want! I know you, you’re… Dot, you’re so fucking nice to me, to all of us, and the only reason Andy said that bullshit about you is because you’re friends with the freaks.”

“I’m not,” she said, and he looked at her in question. “I’m not friends with the freaks. I am a freak.”

“Hell yeah you are,” Eddie smiled. “You are a freak, and you shouldn’t let what that piece of shit said get to you, okay? You broke his fucking nose because he talked shit about you, Dot. You’re so fucking amazing.”

It was probably the way Eddie was looking at her like she’d hung the moon and all the stars, or maybe it was the way he was holding onto her face with a gentleness no one associated with the rugged metalhead, fingers extending under her ears and into her damp hair, thumbs on her cheeks. It was most definitely the way he always took care of her, how he cleaned her wounds like she was the most fragile thing on Earth and how he never hesitated to pull her into his arms whenever she needed a hug without questioning her reasons. But honestly, it was most likely the fact that he was so close to her, his warm breath mingling with her minty one, that had her leaning forward and pecking his lips with hers in the most chaste kiss she’d ever given to anyone in her entire life.

She tried pulling away as fast as she had leaned in, she really tried to, but Eddie felt like he had been struck by a live wire and instinctively chased her mouth with his own, still cupping her face but moving one of his hands to tangle into her hair, finally taking a hold of the proverbial carrot dangling in front of him. He was kissing her - Eddie Munson was kissing Dottie Burke and he couldn’t get enough of it - he needed more, he needed to consume her and she to him until there was nothing left for anyone to see. He grabbed onto her bare thigh to pull himself up and she whimpered, the walls of the illusion suddenly crashing around him. She’d just tearfully asked him if the town thought she was a whore, and his way of reassuring her, had been to deny it and then make a move on her. Eddie jumped back so quickly he fell onto his bruised ass and hissed in pain.

“Fuck, Dot, I’m- I’m so sorry!” he pleaded, leaving her dumbfounded and glazy-eyed.

He’d fucked up. He’d ruined everything. With his eagerness, he’d jumped the gun and now his plan was ruined, and she probably, maybe, definitely thought he was a fucking pervert trying to get into her pants, and yes, he very much would like to do that but not like this. Not before she knew he would quite literally die for her, not before he’d confessed to her the profound love he felt and had finally become the kind of man she deserved to have. Dottie looked at him not understanding what had just happened, but when she moved to get off the bed and closer to him, he jumped off the floor and put even more distance between them.

“I’m so sorry, we shouldn’t- fuck, I didn’t-”

“Eddie, it’s fine-

“No, it’s not fine!” his hands tangled in his own hair while he tried to find the words to explain himself. “This is all wrong, goddamnit-”

“Eddie, calm down-”

“Fuck, Chrissy is gonna kill me, I’m such a fucking idiot-”

“Ch-Chrissy?” Dottie whispered, but he didn’t hear her in the middle of his freakout.

Oh. Oh. She was so stupid. She couldn’t even blame him, she’d been influenced by her aunts and by Gareth - and of course, who wouldn’t be in love with Chrissy Cunningham, Head Cheerleader and Queen of Hawkins High? She was so kind, and friendly, with her gorgeous eyes and warm smiles. And by his own admission, if she was going to kill him, well, that certainly meant she returned Eddie’s affections, did it not? She’d be an idiot not to love Eddie back because Eddie was so loveable. Sweet, silly, wonderful Eddie who had just kissed his best friend and regretted it deeply. She had to get out of there if there was any hope of saving their friendship.

“I’m so sorry,” Dottie said, rushing out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

“Dot, wait!” Eddie followed her. He had to fix this, he had to tell her, he was gonna tell her- “What are you doing?”

“I’m really so sorry, Eddie, I didn’t know,” she got her damp clothes out of the washing machine; the cycle had probably ended in the middle of his upset rant and neither of them had heard it.

“Where are you going? It’s midnight!” he watched her shove her feet into her heels, not bothering with fastening the buckles before she opened his front door. He had to act fast or he was going to lose her forever.

“Eddie, please,” she asked, tears pooling in her eyes again, voice broken. “I just want to go home. Everything’s fine, I’ll see you on Monday-”

“No!” he threw himself onto the door, closing it again effectively locking her in. “Y-you can’t leave like this! What are you gonna do, walk home in your heels? Are you insane?”

“Please, I’m sorry,” she sobbed, breaking his heart into a million tiny pieces. “We can forget this all happened, please, just let me go!”

“No!”

“Eddie!”

“No! We need to talk about this!”

“There’s nothing to talk about! I didn’t know you were dating her, just let me-”

“Wait, what?” It was Eddie’s turn to be confused. “I’m not dating anyone, what are you talking about?”

“I’m not fucking deaf, Ed! You just said Chrissy was gonna kill you!”

“Yes, but that’s not- Fuck! That’s not what I meant! She’s dating Jason Carver, for fuck’s sake!”

“It’s okay if you like her, she’s fucking perfect-” she babbled, fat tears leaving tracks on her cheeks.

“You’re fucking perfect! God, fuck, this is not what I-” Eddie took the clothes out of her arms and threw them into the living room, pulling her into his arms again.

“Eddie, what the fuck?!” she shrieked, trying to get away from him but he held on tight, throwing her onto his shoulder and sitting her down onto the kitchen counter.

“I made Kool-Aid!”

“What? I don’t want fucking Kool-Aid-”

“Just stop arguing!” he yelled, effectively shutting her up. “I made apple Kool-Aid.”

“...I love apple Kool-Aid,” she said, for lack of a better response.

“I know,” he said, leaning back and looking at her sitting between his arms, palms on the cold surface of his kitchen countertop. “That’s why I keep buying it. For you.”

An ugly sob bubbled up out of her throat and she hid her face in her hands. She wasn’t strong enough to keep fighting with him, and when he hugged her again, fingers tangling back under her ears, she simply bowed her head and cried harder. Eddie kissed her hair and held her, letting her release all the pent up emotions that were swirling in her mind. When she breathed a little bit easier, he looked at her, drying her tears with his thumbs.

“Can I trust you to stay here while I get the Kool-Aid?” he asked, softly.

Dottie nodded, so he moved away from her to get the pitcher out of the fridge. He filled a mug first, watching her legs swinging lightly back and forth while she sniffled and picked at her nails, and stopped before filling the next one. She saw him frown and look around the kitchen before finding what he was looking for: a yellow ceramic mug with a gnome playing the accordion on the front. A couple of weeks ago, the teens had been studying in the trailer on the small table in the kitchen, and Dottie had mentioned to Wayne she was gonna get him a hat with her college logo when she was in Michigan so he could add it to his collection. He’d glowed at that, joking that he was gonna tell everyone his niece was a genius and that he’d leave her her favorite mug in his will in return. The two of them had spent around 30 minutes going through every mug until she decided on one, all while Eddie worked on his homework with a dumb smile on his face. She’d picked a yellow mug with gnome playing the accordion on the front, the very same mug Eddie was now gently putting into her hands filled with apple Kool-Aid he allegedly kept buying because he knew it was her fave flavor.

They sipped their juice in silence until Dottie calmed down, holding onto the mug with both hands for comfort. Eddie stood there, waiting for her to say anything and when it became clear she was not gonna be the first one to talk, he put his mug down and turned to her, pulling on the hem of her borrowed boxers.

“Hey,” he said, ducking his head down to look her into the eyes. She made a small sound of acknowledgment but kept staring at the liquid between her hands. “I’m not dating anyone.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t like Chrissy,” he kept going.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

“Yes, I do. I really fucking do,” he took her mug out of her hands and ducked a bit more. “Dot, look at me. Please.”

“Eddie, it’s fine-”

“I’m kind of insanely in love with you.”

“What?” Dottie breathed out, eyes widening.

“Darling, I haven’t been able to even look at anyone else since the day I met you. I’m so fucking obsessed with you it’s actually embarrassing,” he smiled at her, finally hitting her with the full force of his confession.

“You… you like me?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, lifting her hand and kissing her gauze covered knuckles. “Chrissy has been helping me plan how to ask you out. We’re not secretly dating, she knows I’m crazy about you.”

“Oh. Sorry, I didn’t know,” Dottie murmured, ashamed that she’d jumped the gun with her conclusions.

“You couldn’t know, that was the whole point,” he chuckled. “I was gonna ask you out after graduation, I wanted to have our diplomas and everything but then you kissed me and… you’re awfully impatient, has anyone ever told you that?”

“God, I’m an idiot,” she laughed, hitting her forehead with her palm. “How long had you been planning that?”

“Since around your birthday,” he admitted, and she groaned. “I would have asked you earlier but I wanted to set things straight before, y’know? I wanted to graduate first, maybe get a job, I dunno… Give you what you deserve. Instead you get… this,” he waved his hand around. “Sorry.”

“Eddie, I’m so in love with you, it’s not even funny. What are you talking about?”

“What?”

“Oh my god, we’re both idiots!” Dottie groaned again, and he laughed in disbelief.

“You’re in love with me?”

“Yes! Why did you think I kissed you?!”

“I mean, I kinda figured out you liked me, but love, darling, that’s… That’s a lot.”

“You just said you are “kinda insanely in love” with me, what do you mean it’s a lot?” she looked at him like he had just told her the sky was green.

“Well, yeah, but- that’s different! I’m me!”

“Okay, what the hell does that mean?”

“I don’t know, I just- fuck, I love you and I really, really want to kiss you right now. Would that be okay, darling? Can I kiss you?”

She shook her head at him like he had just said the stupidest thing on Earth and wrapped her arms around him, bringing him forward and pressing their lips together again. Eddie laughed against her mouth, hands coming up to cup the sides of her jaw, thumbs rubbing circles into her skin. They kissed with no hurry and no other motives than to just kiss, savoring the moment like a cold sip of water after a long race. There were no more places to hide, no more shadows lurking in the background. It was just them under the mismatched light bulbs in the Munson kitchen, two mugs and a pitcher filled with Kool-Aid, and limbs tangling with one another, scratching an itch that had once seemed impossible to relieve.

Eddie moved his lips from hers to her cheek, up her nose and eyelids until he reached her forehead and stayed there, just breathing in and basking in the knowledge that they’d jumped off a cliff together and had landed on the other side unscathed. There were so many conversations to be had, so many things to be said, but this was more than okay for him now. This was enough, and for the first time in his whole life, he was enough. Dottie’s hands moved under his shirt, lightly running her short nails over his skin, the motion calming and grounding him. He was hers, and she was his, and there was nothing else that mattered anymore. The waters were calm. The locked padlocks remained in place, but the keys weren’t forgotten or hidden anymore. She felt at peace in a way she had never once felt before, knowing that no matter what came next, they would face it together. She yawned once, burrowing further into his skin, and he chuckled.

“Wanna go to bed now?” he asked, softly.

“Yes, please,” she replied.

Eddie helped her off the counter and let her get comfy in his room while he finished getting ready for bed, turning all the lights off and brushing his teeth with a dazed expression on his face. He found her tucked in on the left side of his bed, the one closest to the wall and realized that he could get used to this so easily. He was sure that once she went home the next day, he’d have trouble falling asleep until she was back next to him, nuzzling into his chest and wearing his clothes. They cuddled in silence, soft touches in the darkness, just exploring skin and calming rapid heartbeats with innocent caresses that revealed just how much they’d longed for this. There would be time for bolder actions, but tonight they just wanted to hold each other tight and never let go. Eddie, however, had one more question to ask before sleep could whisk them away to Dreamland.

“Darling?”

“Mhm?”

“I don’t want to, like, ruin the moment, but… what happens now?”

“Dunno. What do you want to happen?” she asked, moving her leg on top of his so he could shuffle closer to her.

“Can we maybe not tell people this happened so I can ask you out like I planned?” he said, shyly. “I just… I want to do things right with you. I don’t want to fuck this up.”

“You’re not fucking anything up, Ed. But sure, we can pretend this didn’t happen and I’ll act surprised when you ask me out,” she rolled her eyes playfully.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” he squeezed her closer. “I meant it more like… not telling the guys? You can tell your Dad if you want, though.”

“How about this?” she said, reaching up and kissing his jaw sweetly. “We don’t tell anyone anything, and my Dad doesn’t get an aneurysm every time he sees you. Sound good?”

“You want to lie to your Dad?”

“Not forever. We can tell him before I leave for college. You’re gonna come see me, right?” Dottie asked, hopeful.

“Baby, Michigan is only three hours away. They’re gonna think I’m your roommate with how often I’m gonna be there,” he pecked her hairline.

“Baby?”

“Just trying it on. D’you like it?”

“I love it. And I love you.”

“Fuck, I’ll never get tired of that. I love you,” he chuckled, leaning in to kiss her. “Okay, we won’t tell anyone so your Dad doesn’t murder me.”

“I have one condition though.”

“Okay?”

“I still get to kiss you when we’re alone.”

“You just want me to be your dirty little secret, don’t you?” Eddie joked, poking her side.

“I’ll be yours too if that helps,” she said, cheekily.

“Oh, don’t tempt me with a good time, princess,” he said with a mischievous tone. “Who knows? Might be fun to sneak around all summer.”

Half an hour later, when they were finally falling asleep between soft kisses and whispered sweet nothings, they both agreed that a little bit of teenage disobedience might just be the missing piece they didn’t know they were looking for to complete their perfect summer before officially being adults. After all, it always looked so much fun in movies, right?

taglist (comment below or send me an ask if you want to be added!): @munsonology @kurdtbean @every1lovesanunderdog @eg-dr3amer3

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ambrossart · 1 year ago

Text

Out of the Loop

summary: eddie went home with someone after prom, and gareth is determined to figure out who it was.

pairing: eddie munson x dwm!reader word count: 11k warnings: language, new relationship, eddie's girlfriend is gareth's arch nemesis, silly childhood rivalries, eddie being happy and stupidly in love, jason being an overprotective ass, chrissy being an adorable little cupcake, the reader is chrissy's best friend, the unnamed freak is named grant in this series

series masterpost | series playlist | fanfiction masterlist

On Monday morning, Gareth peddled to school like a man on a mission.

Nothing was getting in his way today, not his mother, who had accidentally washed his Hellfire Club shirt with all his little sister’s dance clothes,

“You know what, honey, I think it looks better this way…”

not his sister, who had been hogging the bathroom all morning because she couldn’t get her hair right,

“Look, you don’t understand the pressure I’m under right now. Becca Singer is finalizing her birthday party guest list today. I have to look my best if I wanna make the cut.”

not the weatherman, who was painfully misinformed when he called for clear, sunny skies today…

and certainly not the piece of crap Chevy that just cut him off in the middle of the crosswalk.

Gareth swerved out of the way and kept on peddling. The rain pelted his face in a spray of ice-cold bullets.

Behind him, the driver yelled, “Hey, watch where you’re going, you little shit!”

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Because Gareth was sitting on a goldmine of information right now. It was truly the scoop of the century. Eddie Munson—that’s right, Eddie “the Freak” Munson—had gone home with somebody after the senior prom.

Who was this mysterious (not to mention incredibly lucky) woman? A curious cheerleader desperate to defy her clique? A rich girl trying to piss off her dad? A shy bookworm who wanted to act out the plot of her favorite romance novel? Who? Who? Gareth’s head was spinning! The question hungrily devoured the rest of his weekend (something Gareth wasn’t too proud to admit, of course, but hey, Sundays were always uneventful days for him). He had to get to school quickly and consult his most trusted sources.

He found Jeff and Grant sitting at their usual table in the cafeteria. Grant was eating the school’s hot breakfast while Jeff sat with his head in his hands, lamenting the sorry state of his love life.

“Tara’s still not talking to me. I’m pretty sure she’s gonna dump me for Patrick McKinney.”

Grant put down his fork. “Wait, you two were dating?”

“No…” Jeff heaved a quiet sigh. “But if we were, she’d definitely dump me for Patrick.”

Grant frowned, sympathetic yet envious of his friend’s plight. “Man, I wish Meg would stop talking to me. She had me on the phone all night yesterday. I think she wants me to be her boyfriend or something.” Grant cringed at the thought. He didn’t have the strength to put up with her. He’d barely survived prom.

“You don’t like her?” Jeff asked.

“Not really,” Grant answered. “I mean, yeah, she’s pretty and all, but as soon as she starts talking—”

Gareth slammed a wrinkled piece of notebook paper onto the table. The loud bang echoed through the entire cafeteria, making a few students gasp and flinch in their chairs. Jeff and Grant didn’t move in the slightest. This was typical Monday morning behavior for Gareth.

“What’s with the pink shirt?” Grant asked, unfazed.

“Doesn’t matter,” Gareth said. They had more pressing matters to discuss. He sat down and folded his hands in front of him, his blue eyes clear and focused. He wasted no time getting straight to the point: “Who’d Eddie go home with after prom?”

Jeff and Grant exchanged a subtle, secret glance.

“How do you know Eddie went home with someone after prom?” Jeff asked.

“Because I called him that night.”

“Why’d you call him?”

“Because I’m a good friend, unlike some people.” Nobody had called him asking how his night went. Gareth sat home alone on Saturday night, eating popcorn and watching old sci-fi movies in his basement, while the rest of his friends had a blast at prom. It wasn’t fair. “I wanted to check in on him because I figured he might be a little depressed after getting rejected by Chrissy. Because let’s be honest here, there was no way that Chrissy was ever gonna dance with him. You all agree with me, right? I’m not just being a dick here. Like, yeah, I know Eddie’s riding high right now because he thinks this year is his year and everything, but… yeah, he was aiming a bit too high with that goal.”

“Can you get to the point, please?” Grant said. “My breakfast is getting cold.”

“Well, multitask, man!” Gareth grabbed Grant’s fork and threw it back onto his tray. “What, you can’t listen and eat at the same time?”

Grant rolled his eyes and went back to his breakfast. Gareth carried on with his story:

“So anyway, when I called him on Saturday, I expected him to sound all mopey and depressed, but he wasn’t. Yeah, Eddie wasn’t depressed at all. In fact, he sounded oddly… happy, but also a little bit distracted. You guys see where I’m going with this, right?”

“I hate that I do,” Grant said, struggling to enjoy his food.

“Well, that’s when I started getting suspicious. See, I could tell I didn’t have his full attention, and that’s just so unlike Eddie because he’s normally really good at maintaining proper phone etiquette. Weird, right? So then I got curious and I started listening, and… and I can’t be sure, but I think I heard a girl talking in the background.”

“Maybe it was just the TV,” Grant said.

Gareth shook his head. “No way… I know the difference between a TV voice and a live human voice. Someone was definitely with him.”

“Well, did you recognize the voice?” Jeff asked.

“No, I couldn’t hear well enough.”

Grant’s eyes narrowed. “And yet you’re sure it wasn’t the TV…”

“Oh come on, it wasn’t the TV, you guys. Wake up and smell the coffee! Eddie brought a girl to his house. He brought a girl to his house. She was with him in the room while he was on the phone with me. I could hear her talking. Then Eddie started acting really weird, said he had to go, and rushed me off the phone.”

“Gross,” Grant muttered, sickened. “Yeah, these are details I did not need.”

Gareth’s mouth fell open in a silent gasp. “Wait, do you guys think he slept with her?” and that was more than Jeff could handle.

He buried his face in his hands and said, “Please stop. I don’t wanna go to class with these images in my head.”

Grant shrugged. “Maybe it was just a one-night stand.”

Jeff threw him a sharp, side-eyed glare.

“Just saying,” Grant finished, smirking.

“No, I seriously doubt it,” Gareth went on, completely unaware. “Eddie’s not really a one-night stand kinda guy… not by choice, anyway. No, I think this might be the real deal, you guys, ‘cause listen to this: I went to go see him yesterday. Eddie wasn’t home.”

“So?”

“So I think he was with her. I called him last night and asked him where he was all day. He said he was out running errands.” Gareth scrunched up his face at that, doubtful. “Since when does Eddie run errands? So I said, ‘What sort of errands were you running?’ He said he had to swing by the drugstore. I said, ‘Well, what did you need at the drugstore?’ but he wouldn’t answer that. Yeah, he was being awfully mum.”

“Mum?” Jeff repeated to himself, mystified by his friend’s bizarre word choice.

Grant said, “He was probably annoyed that you were digging around in his business. I know I would be.”

“Oh yeah, he was definitely getting annoyed,” Gareth said. “Then he cut the conversation short and told me he was stepping out for the night. That’s when I knew this was serious. Eddie doesn’t just ‘step out’ on a Sunday night. He hardly goes out any night. If he’s not with us, he’s sitting at home and playing songs on his guitar. Yeah, he was definitely with her last night.”

Grant sighed, hoping they’d finally reached the end of this long-winded story. “Well, I guess you cracked the case then, Gareth.”

“But that’s just it, I haven’t!” Gareth said. Grant let out an exhausted moan. “I still don’t know who this girl is. You guys swear you didn’t see Eddie go home with anybody after prom?”

Another secret glance.

“Nope,” Jeff said. “I didn’t see him go home with anyone that night.”

Gareth nodded, disappointed but not yet defeated. “Yeah, I thought you might say that. That’s why I made this.”

He gestured toward the piece of paper on the table. Jeff picked it up and read it over. Then he passed it to Grant so he could do the same.

“Okay, what exactly am I looking at here?” Grant asked.

“It’s a list of suspects,” Gareth said, a proud smile on his face. “Yeah, last night I compiled a list of every girl I’ve ever seen Eddie interact with at school, and then this morning I whittled that list down to what I think are the most likely suspects.”

“Not a very long list,” Jeff said.

“Really?” said Grant. “I was gonna say it’s too long.”

They shared a little chuckle over that. Gareth glowered at them, unamused. He didn’t appreciate them making little jabs about their Dungeon Master’s love life, stagnant as it was.

“You know,” Grant began with ominous deliberation, “I can’t help but notice there’s a name missing from this list.”

Gareth's head snapped back in surprise. “Who?”

“You know who,” Grant said. Beside him, Jeff was holding in a grin.

A disturbing chill crept up Gareth's spine. Then—

BAM!

Your name cracked down from above like a fiendish lightning bolt, striking Gareth and making all the little hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. For a second, he could see your name so clearly. It loomed before him, ugly and terrible, festering with pus and crawling with maggots, getting pecked savagely by vultures and other scavengers. It made him retch with disgust.

“Oh, very funny…”

“Hey, I’m just saying,” Grant said, “there’s no denying that she’s a likely suspect.”

“In fact,” Jeff continued, “some might say she’s the most likely suspect.”

“Yeah, maybe back in middle school,” Gareth said, “but Eddie hasn’t so much as looked at her in years.”

Except for that one time, he thought, remembering the mournful look on his friend’s face that day.

They were all eating lunch when your laughter suddenly sprang up from the other side of the cafeteria, obnoxious and shrill. Eddie glanced your way and his eyes darkened with such hollow sadness. It was as if someone had died.

But that didn’t mean anything, Gareth decided, so he shoved the memory away.

“All right, look, I’ll admit we lost him briefly for that one summer. I dunno how she did it, but somehow she got her claws in him real deep and he was completely under her spell. I won’t deny that. But then Eddie woke up and saw her for what she really is—an ugly green hag! At first, she appears as this beautiful, enchanting woman, but underneath that guise, she’s a wretched old witch who thrives on torment. Yeah, Eddie got over her a long time ago,” and Gareth refused to waste another thought on it.

He snatched the paper from Grant and laid it out in front of him. “Now, here’s what I’m thinking: if we split this up among the three of us, we can get through this list by lunch and then confront Eddie with our findings.”

“Yeah, we’re not doing that,” Grant said.

Gareth frowned. “Why not?”

“Because we already know who it is.”

Gareth’s eyes widened in surprised anger. “I KNEW IT! I FUCKING KNEW IT! I knew you two were messing with me this whole time. Sitting there with your smug little faces. Making your little jokes. You know what, screw you guys, I don’t even want your help anymore.”

He stuffed the paper back into his bag, climbed to his feet, and stomped off.

Over his shoulder, Jeff said, “Shoulda gone to prom, man.”

Gareth paused, dejected. “Well, no one would go with me…” He pushed through the double doors and was gone.

Afterward, Grant picked up his milk carton and took a few slow slips.

“You know what,” he said thoughtfully, “Gareth should’ve asked Y/N to prom.”

Jeff chuckled to himself. “Well, she did need a date… Shit, should we have just told him?”

“No,” Grant said. “No, this is something Gareth needs to see with his own eyes.”

Now Gareth, his resolve reignited and burning brighter than ever, was prowling the senior locker area with his suspect list in hand.

Let them keep their secrets, he thought. I don’t need their help. A lot of help they would’ve been, anyway. Yeah, I can solve this mystery all on my own.

And he would.

Gareth was a fantastic investigator, you see. He could win a game of Guess Who? in less than five turns and had a lifetime record of fifty-three wins and only fifteen losses (such losses were unavoidable when you drew an easily guessable character like Anita. Ugh, Anita… with those rosy cheeks and annoying blonde pigtails. His little sister beat him in only two moves after that unlucky draw). Now Gareth would apply those same deductive reasoning skills to this. Ask careful, complex questions. Gather information. Cross those ladies off one by one.

There was only one problem: the girls at Hawkins High weren’t exactly forthcoming about their personal lives, especially when it involved Eddie Munson. In fact, most girls denied ever having spoken to the guy.

Claire Dunnock, the most recent inductee into the popular clique, was being especially difficult.

Her blue eyes shifted back and forth anxiously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, and then leaned forward to make sure none of her new friends were eavesdropping. Claire had to be very careful. One misstep and she would slide all the way back down the social ladder. She couldn’t afford to let that happen.

Gareth sensed her unease. “Hey, relax,” he told her, “I’m not here to ruin your reputation, okay? This conversation stays between us. You have my word.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Claire said. “I wouldn’t be caught dead with that freak.”

“Hey, that freak is my best friend,” Gareth said. “And you and I both know that’s not true, Claire. I saw you get into his van that one—”

Claire seized him by the arm and hissed, “Shut up!” Her eyes blazed with fearful, self-protective rage. “Look, that was a year ago, okay? I was a stupid junior who didn’t know any better. Eddie and I had a class together. I guess I got a little curious, but that’s it. We hung out once and I never spoke to him again.” Loosening her grip, she said, “Besides, he was nothing but a big disappointment, anyway.”

Anger flared in Gareth’s chest. “All right, that's it. I’m not gonna stand here and listen to you slander my friend.”

“It’s not slander if it’s true,” Claire said.

Gareth didn’t know how to respond to that.

“Look, just answer my question, okay? Did you go home with Eddie after prom or not?”

“Of course not,” Claire answered, practically cackling at the thought.

(Why were high school girls so needlessly cruel?)

“I went to prom with my boyfriend. I was with him all night. Ask anyone.” Claire swung her locker door closed, put her hand on her hip, and raised her eyebrows impatiently. “Are we done now?” She walked off to join the rest of her friends.

Gareth glared at her back, his insides boiling with indignation and righteous fury.

You got curious and Eddie got his heart broken. Again.

He crossed out Claire’s name with his pen.

Two suspects down. Eight more to go.

He tucked his pen behind his ear, turned, and suddenly the hallway froze over!

Okay, that didn’t actually happen, but a bitter wind did blow. Gareth felt it on his face as soon as he saw you step out from around the corner.

Coincidence?

Doubtful.

You were wearing blue jeans and a Fleetwood Mac shirt. Yeah, you would like Fleetwood Mac, Gareth thought, scoffing. As usual, you were walking side by side with Chrissy Cunningham, your best friend since elementary school. She was smiling and laughing at one of your jokes. Laughing out of politeness, probably. Why you two were friends, Gareth would never know. Chrissy was sweet like cotton candy and you were so… so…

(evil, pure evil)

rotten to the core, like moldy fruit.

“I swear,” you said with a groan, “it’ll be weeks before your mom lets me into the house again. God, she’s such a prude. How was I supposed to know she was gonna invite the whole family over for Sunday brunch? At least I was dressed for the occasion.”

Chrissy looked at you in baffled amusement. “You were still wearing your prom dress.”

“And it was a very nice prom dress. Your grandma even complimented it. She said it made me look like Madonna.” You weren’t too thrilled about that comparison, but who were you to pass up a free compliment? “Now your mom, on the other hand… man, if looks could kill… I probably would’ve choked on one of those blueberry scones she was serving, which were a tad overbaked if I’m being honest.”

Chrissy went to her locker and fiddled with the padlock for a second before opening it. You stood patiently beside her, the wall clock barely within view.

It was a quarter past eight, you noted with a frown. Was Eddie here already or…?

While hanging up her pink backpack, Chrissy said, “Yeah, she definitely had some colorful words to describe you last night.”

You turned your attention back to her. “Your mom called me a slut, didn’t she?”

Chrissy didn’t answer at first. She was busy unloading her homework. While she was doing that, one of her fellow cheerleaders snuck up behind her, tapped her on the shoulder, and gave a cheerful, heartfelt hello. Chrissy hugged her and asked how her weekend was. The two chatted casually for a minute and then the girl went on her way. Never so much as glanced at you.

“Umm, I believe she used the word harlot,” Chrissy said to you afterward.

“Oh, she got biblical, huh?” Great, you thought, as if that woman didn’t despise you enough already. “You know, I don’t understand your mom. First I’m too fat to be your friend. Now I’m too much of a slut. That lady needs to pick a lane and stay in it… and then drive herself right off a cliff.”

Chrissy threw you a friendly glare.

“Just kidding,” you said. “You know I love your mom. She keeps me grounded. Without her, I might develop a healthy self-esteem, and we all know how dangerous that is. Yeah, that might lead to confidence and success… perhaps even lifelong happiness.”

Ignoring you (or pretending to), Chrissy started digging through her backpack again. “Dammit,” she said under her breath, “I think I left my pencil case at home.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Jason has a pencil for you.” You smiled inwardly—a willful, wicked smile. “Then again…”

Chrissy pushed her locker closed, grabbed both your hands, backed you up against the lockers, and brought her face really close to yours. “Shut up,” she whispered in half-hearted anger, a rosy blush blooming on the apples of her cheeks.

You took one look at her and busted out laughing. Chrissy started laughing, too.

“I hate you so much,” she said, and released you.

“I know,” you replied affectionately. “But see, this is why the whole situation with your mom is so funny to me. I’m the one who’s still a virgin, yet somehow it’s me who gets labeled the…”

You spotted a familiar face down the hall.

“Gareth?” You leaned toward him, squinting. “What are you doing in the senior locker area?”

The sound of your voice made him flinch. “Nothing,” he said, acting strangely defensive for some reason.

That’s when you noticed the piece of paper in his hand. You gestured toward it with your chin and said, “What’s that you got there? Is that a love letter? You finally asking someone out on a date? Will you go out with me? Check yes or no. Who’s the lucky lady? Wait, aren’t you a little young to be dating?”

Gareth hid the paper behind his back and glared at you. “We’re the same age.”

“And yet I’m a senior and you’re a junior. Hmm, how did that happen?” You tipped your head and smiled at him. “You’ve got company, by the way.”

“Huh?” Gareth stepped back and—

A hand landed on his shoulder, closed around his flannel shirt, and spun him around. Gareth jumped back, swallowing a scream. He was now standing nose to chest with Ben Jabruski, outside linebacker and two-time defensive player of the year. Eric Kordell stood beside him, smaller but no less intimidating. His brown eyes gleamed with feral, territorial aggression.

“Get outta here, freak,” Eric said.

Gareth squared up to him, unafraid. “Last time I checked this was a free country.” He wrenched his shirt out of Ben’s grip, careful not to tear his favorite flannel. It was a Christmas gift from his mother.

While he was distracted, Eric reached out and ripped the paper out of Gareth’s hand.

“Hey, give that back!”

“What’s this?” Eric asked. He opened the paper and studied it for a minute. His expression went from amused to curious to downright furious. He crushed the list in his fist. “Why’s my girlfriend on here?”

“Oh…” Panic shot up Gareth’s spine. He took a step back and let loose a nervous chuckle. “Oh, you must be Claire’s boyfriend. You know, I heard you two had a lovely time at prom.”

He turned on his heel and took off running down the hallway.

“Bye, Gareth!” you said, fluttering your fingers as he passed. Then you looked back at Chrissy with a smile. “God, I love that kid…”

You went to your locker after that, ignoring all the busy little voices, the occasional odd glance and stifled giggle you received from the other students. Chrissy followed with her first-period textbook cradled in her arms.

“Just ignore them,” she told you.

“I already am,” you said… but then you saw Sarah, Sally, and Stacy huddled around Stacy’s locker. Talking about their hair. Talking about their clothes. Stirring their black cauldron of boiling bones and animal guts. Sarah looked at you, whispered something to Sally, who passed the same message on to Stacy, and all three of them tittered gleefully at your expense.

“Just ignore them,” Chrissy said.

“I will,” you said, but first—

You whipped around and burst out: “So which one of you got knocked up after prom? My money’s on you, Stacy.”

Chrissy, dismayed but secretly delighted, tugged gently on your right elbow. Before going with her, you tossed Satan’s mistress (AKA Stacy Raab) a snide little wink. Stacy rolled her eyes in disgust.

“Stop it,” Chrissy said.

“They started it.”

“I know… but stop it. You’re better than that.”

At the end of the hallway, you spotted Chance Gallagher standing in front of his open locker, wearing the same green letterman jacket that he’d worn when he asked you to prom six weeks ago. Chance closed his locker and caught your eye for a moment. Then he gave you a small, apologetic smile.

What was he apologizing for? For asking you to prom, getting your hopes up, and then humiliating you in front of the entire senior class? You weren’t sorry he did it. In fact, you were glad he did it. Yeah, you wanted to go up to him, shake his hand, and thank him for being such a spineless little worm. If he were a decent guy, your night might have gone differently, and you were quite pleased with how your night went. So thank you, Chance. Thank you for being a complete scumbag. Maybe I should write him a thank-you note.

Smiling, you turned back around. As you did, you stole another quick glance at the clock on the wall.

Eight-nineteen…

You sighed.

… and now eight-twenty.

“He’s running late, huh?” Chrissy said. You looked her way and she flashed you a sweet, teasing smile. “I know you’re waiting for him.”

A small flush of heat tickled your cheeks, threatening to set your whole face on fire. Resisting it, you grabbed your padlock and started spinning the dial: three turns to the right, one full turn to the left, another quick turn to the right, and

“Are you nervous about seeing him?”

you missed the last number and had to start all over again.

“Kind of,” you admitted. “Is that weird?”

Chrissy shook her head, her smile growing brighter and brighter. “Nope, it’s totally normal and absolutely adorable.” Giggling, she hugged her book tightly to her chest. If her hands were free, she probably would have hugged you instead. “I’m so happy for you. I really, really am. I swear, I feel like my heart’s about to burst right now.”

“Well, you should probably see a doctor about that.”

Chrissy stuck her tongue out at you. You did it right back, popped off your lock, and pulled on the handle. The locker door swung outward, squeaking on its hinges, and almost smacked Chrissy in the face. “Hey!” she said, laughing. She stepped back, skipped around you, and planted herself comfortably on your left side.

“So did you see him last night?” she asked, practically beaming.

“Nope.” You slipped off your messenger bag and hung it on the hook.

Chrissy squinted at you suspiciously. “Why do I feel like you’re lying right now?”

“I’m not lying,” you told her, only to be betrayed by your blushing face. “I didn’t see him last night… technically it was this morning.”

Twelve-o-two, to be exact. That’s when you saw the headlights flashing through your bedroom window blinds.

“Oh my god,” Chrissy said.

“What? He just stopped by to say goodnight.” You smiled softly to yourself. “It was kind of romantic, actually.”

“Uh-huh,” Chrissy said, laughing at you. “And how long did you two say goodnight?”

“Only for an hour… and a half.”

It was raining last night. You couldn’t invite Eddie into the house, so you two hung out in his van for a while. A very long while. W.A.S.P. was playing on the stereo. Eddie had found the cassette tape while cleaning out his van that afternoon. He was very proud of this accomplishment. It was adorable. He had you listen to a few of his favorite songs, asked you about your day, told you about his, and during “Cries In the Night,” he leaned over the center console and kissed you. Everything after that was a bit of a blur. The last thing you remembered was the horn blaring. You had accidentally pressed it with your elbow.

“Oh my god,” Chrissy said.

“Stop saying, ‘Oh my god.’ You sound like my mom.”

She had said the exact same thing after confronting you about it in the kitchen this morning. Turns out, the car horn had woken her up. Then she caught you creeping back inside through the front door. It was an awkward breakfast, to say the least.

Chrissy poked your shoulder playfully. “That’s how it starts, you know. Late-night visits. Long, drawn-out goodbyes. You two are gonna be inseparable this summer.” She breathed a long, lovesick sigh. “Jason and I used to be like that.”

“You’re still like that.”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling.

“Speaking of…” You saw Jason Carver coming down the hallway, his pants ironed and creased, white collared shirt tucked in, a brand-new Rolex glinting on his left wrist (an early graduation present from his father, apparently). He looked like a Ralph Lauren catalog model. “Is it weird that I’m picturing him naked right now?”

Chrissy hid her face in embarrassment. “I swear to God, if you say anything…”

“What am I gonna say to him? ‘Thank you for deflowering my best friend’? ‘I heard your penis is rather pleasing’? I don’t wanna talk to him about that. I don’t even wanna think about that.”

Prior to this weekend, you couldn’t even imagine Jason Carver having genitals. You always figured he was like a Ken doll down there. Nothing but smooth plastic.

Chrissy looked at you, mortified. “Why do I tell you anything?”

“I have no idea,” you said. Then you checked the clock again.

Eight twenty-three.

Where the hell’s Eddie? you wondered, starting to get a little worried.

Jason’s arrival reclaimed your attention.

“Hey, guys,” he said in that smooth drawl that made all the girls swoon.

You expected to find him standing with his million-dollar smile, but he wasn’t. No, today Jason seemed different—humble, approachable, perhaps even a little shy. It was as if he’d reverted back to his ten-year-old self. Little Jason Carver, who could barely dribble a basketball. The boy who stammered when he introduced himself to the rest of the class. The boy who sat down next to you, smiled, and said he liked the character on your favorite shirt. The boy who talked to you every day. Encouraged you. Defended you. The boy you caught staring at your best friend way too many times to be a coincidence.

Then you looked at Chrissy and she seemed younger, too. A blushing, fidgeting ten-year-old who always forgot to stand up straight. She got so excited when Jason offered to walk her home from school. He even carried my books!

Back then, your happiness for them had been counterfeit, complicated, but not anymore. Yeah, now you could say you were genuinely happy for both of them.

This was still awkward as hell, though.

“Hey, Chrissy needs to borrow a pencil,” you blurted out, breaking their amorous trance.

A soft pink flush rose to Jason’s cheeks. “What?”

“Just ignore her,” Chrissy said, struggling to keep a straight face.

Meanwhile, you punched Jason on the shoulder. “Hey, don’t forget about our deal, buddy.”

“I haven’t,” he told you. “I’ll buy your lunch, as promised. It’s the least I can do.”

“What if I want two lunches? And a whole plate of cookies?”

“Then I guess I’m buying you two lunches and a whole plate of cookies.”

Jason smiled at you… but then his demeanor changed, hardening like armor.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

You blinked at him. “Am I okay?” you repeated slowly, a little taken aback. “Well, I did wake up with a strange tattoo on my wrist. It’s like a crucifix, except it’s upside-down. Weird… Also, I can’t be sure, but I think I might be dealing with a Rosemary’s Baby scenario. Yeah, I’m definitely gonna be giving birth to the Antichrist in about nine months. Buy something black.”

Jason’s eyes widened in confused horror.

“Oh my god, I’m kidding!” you said. “Eddie was a complete gentleman. He even asked for permission before he impregnated me with his hellseed. Naturally, I gave him the green light because… well, have you seen his face? It’s kinda perfect.”

Chrissy put her hand over her mouth and giggled. Jason didn’t appreciate your joke.

“Come on, be serious.”

“I am being serious. Believe it or not, I actually find him insanely attractive. He’s like a discount version of Eddie Van Halen, and I can’t afford the real thing, so…”

“So you actually slept with him?” Jason sounded disappointed and ashamed. He reminded you of your father.

No, worse than your father.

“Well, no, I was kidding about that. I mean, I did sleep with him, but not in the way you’re assuming. And are you seriously gonna judge me for having sex? It’s been a while since I’ve been to church, but I’m pretty sure the bible condemns hypocrisy. You might wanna reread those sections. I think you’ll find them very enlightening.”

Jason ground his jaw in irritation. “Stop making jokes.”

“I don’t want to,” you said finally, your voice breaking, “because then I’m just gonna get really, really mad like I’m doing right now, and I don’t wanna be mad at you, Jason. I was having a really good morning until you showed up.”

By now, Chrissy had stopped laughing. Her shoulders drooped and she looked at you with a sick, sorry expression.

Jason said, “Look, I just think you’re undervaluing yourself, okay? You can do so much better than that—”

“Oh, please don’t do that. Don’t try to talk to me like you’re my friend.”

“I am your friend.”

“Then be my friend, Jason. Stop trying to ruin my happiness!”

The school bell dinged and students began making their way to class. Jason went, too. Didn’t even bother saying goodbye. Chrissy told you not to worry about him. “Jason’ll come around eventually.” Then she smiled, waved goodbye, and ran to catch up with him.

You weren’t half as optimistic as she was.

This is gonna be a huge problem, isn’t it?

You groaned, dreading it.

Behind you, another wave of students came rushing down the hallway. Brittany Wirth was among them. You knew because you could hear her shrill voice piercing through the dull chatter around her. She was ranting about prom, complaining about the flowers, complaining about the food, about the music, about—

“YOU!”

You flinched and turned around, thinking she was talking to you.

What you saw made your eyes light up with glee. Brittany Wirth had Eddie Munson pinned up against the lockers, and she was jabbing him in the chest with her index finger.

“You, sir, are a total asshole! Do you have any idea how hard I worked on that event? I was planning it for months, planning it to perfection, and then YOU had to go and make it all about yourself, as usual.” She stepped back and huffed, exhausted. “I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

“I’m a little proud of myself,” Eddie replied candidly.

Brittany shot him a deadly glare. “Oh, shut up!” She swept her hair off her shoulder and walked away.

You stopped her as she passed. “You know what, Brittany, all things considered, I thought it was a very successful night.”

Brittany’s jaw dropped and got stuck like that, locked in befuddled rage. Not a single sound came out, but you could tell she was trying to speak. Was this it? Had it finally happened? Did Brittany Wirth actually crack? She worked her lips unsuccessfully for a minute and then closed them again, steaming in her hatred, screaming internally like a boiling teapot. She brushed past you and continued on her way.

Then you heard Eddie approach you.

“Did I really make the night all about me?”

His question made you giggle. “A little bit.” You turned around with a smile, glad to see him, relieved to see him. “I still had a good time, though.”

“Well, that’s all that matters,” Eddie said, but there was something in your eyes that made him frown with concern. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you said, and blinked that silly little worry away. “Jason’s just being… well, Jason.”

“I take it he doesn’t approve of me.”

“Yeah, you’ve really got him clutching his bible. He thinks you’re gonna drain my blood and sacrifice me to the devil.”

“Really?” Eddie said, his eyes widening in false astonishment. “Well, he just spoiled our next date.”

“Oh, really?” you replied, giggling. “Well, I guess that explains why I’m still a virgin.”

Eddie winced, looked down at his shoes, and grinned bashfully. “Okay, I walked right into that one.”

“Yeah, you did,” you said; and God, it drove you crazy seeing him get so flustered.

Kinda like last night, you thought, startling yourself, and immediately shooed that dangerous thought away. Now was not the time for that, young lady. You still had a full day of school to get through. Somehow.

“You’re late,” you said.

“Yeah, I uh…” Eddie brought his hand to his face and started rubbing it. “I got pulled over for speeding.”

You gasped. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Prove it.”

Eddie pulled a folded-up piece of paper out of his back pocket and handed it to you. You opened it and immediately busted out laughing.

“Oh, wow… going fifty-five in a forty-five.”

“Eh, they went easy on me… I was going at least sixty.”

“Wow…”

“Yeah…” Eddie said, tilting his head. “The one time I’m in a rush to get to school.”

His brown eyes sought yours and settled there for a moment, his lips curling into a tender, captivated smile. You smiled back helplessly, feeling girly, feeling giddy, feeling like you were probably grinning like an idiot right now. Embarrassed, you pressed the paper to your mouth in a vain attempt to hide it. When that didn’t work, you thrust the ticket back into Eddie’s hand and turned away, pretending to pull books from your locker.

You felt along the spines like someone fumbling around in the dark. What class were you going to again? History? English? French?

No, you weren’t even taking French.

You spoke to Eddie in a frazzled voice: “Well, since you’re not in handcuffs right now, I’m assuming they didn’t find anything when they searched your van, huh?”

“Luckily, no…”

“Good thing you cleaned out your van yesterday.”

“Mhm…” Eddie said, his voice seeming much closer than before.

Your roaming fingers slowed, then stopped, sliding all the way down the stack of books. With one more step, his presence had consumed you, making you blind and deaf to everything else, everything except Eddie. You could feel him standing next to you, leaning into you, his left hand outstretched and resting against the locker beside you. His voice sent a pleasant shiver down your spine.

“Find what you’re looking for yet?”

You gazed into his eyes and got lost in them. “… I can’t remember what class I’m going to.”

You laughed at yourself sheepishly, senselessly, and saw Eddie crack a small smile: half amused and half… something else, something that brought you back to last night—that quiet, rainy night. Sitting in the dark and listening to music. Eddie humming softly beside you, drumming his right hand on the steering wheel, watching the tiny droplets race down his windshield. You sitting in your seat nervously. Fidgeting restlessly. Running your fingers over the plastic cassette case on your lap. Pretending to take interest in it while secretly watching Eddie out of the corner of your eye. Waiting for him to kiss you. Hoping he’d kiss you. Catching him staring at you with that smile… the same smile he was giving you now… right before he leaned in and…

“Ahem.”

Another student appeared behind you, tapping her foot impatiently. “Uhh, can I get to my locker, please?”

Eddie drew away from you, embarrassed and a little frustrated, and took two giant steps back.

The girl assumed his place without a word, opened her locker, hung up her backpack, her jacket, grabbed her textbook and notebook, snatched a few pens from her bag, and closed her locker again. Before leaving, she motioned between you and Eddie and said, “So is this like a thing now?”

You caught Eddie’s eye for a second. “Uhh, yes,” you said while he fought back a huge smile.

The girl shook her head as if dizzy. “Weird,” she said, and left.

Afterward, you turned to Eddie with a puzzled frown. “Wait, is it weird that I’m dating you or that you’re dating me? I need to know where I rank in this relationship.”

“Maybe you should ask her.”

“Maybe I will…”

Giggling, you stepped past him, spotted your locker neighbor at the end of the hallway, cupped your hands over your mouth, and shouted, “Hey, Carmen!” but you never got a chance to finish. Eddie had grabbed your hand and dragged you back to him, pulling you into his arms, putting you right where he wanted you, intending to pick up exactly where he left off.

The second bell rang before you could even feel his breath on your lips. Eddie closed his eyes tightly, as if pained.

“I really hate that I have to be in school right now.”

“Me too,” you said, staring up at him, your heart still pounding in your chest. “We should probably get to class.”

Eddie wrapped his arms around your waist and held you tighter against him. “Or we could just, y’know, skip first period altogether… since you don’t know where you’re supposed to be anyway.”

He swooped down and placed a few chaste kisses along the side of your head. Blushing, you buried your face into his chest.

“Are you trying to get me to cut class, sir?”

“No, just giving you options.”

“Mhm,” you said, giggling.

While you contemplated his offer, you traced your hand over the button pocket of his denim vest, feeling the fabric, flicking each of his treasured pins one by one: Judas Priest, Accept, Mercyful Fate. You found the W.A.S.P. pin last and focused on it, teasing it with your finger.

“And then what?” you asked, lifting your head to look at him. “We go back to your van and finish what you started last night?”

Eddie’s eyes brightened in surprise. “Finish what you started, if I remember correctly.”

“Was I the one who started it?” You frowned, pretending not to remember.

Meanwhile, your hand had drifted up to the collar of his leather jacket. You nudged it out of the way and started tugging along the neckline of his shirt, revealing a faint pink bruise on the base of his collarbone. Eddie winced as your finger brushed over it. You smiled softly, remembering how his breath hitched when your lips made the first budding mark, how he cursed and moaned while you planted all the others, his hands slipping underneath your shirt and sliding across your skin.

“I may have gotten a little carried away…”

“Yeah, you definitely did,” Eddie said, smiling at you.

“I just really like W.A.S.P.”

“Do you?”

“Mhm…”

Eddie’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he laughed. “Well, I still have the tape in my van. We can go listen to it right now if you want.”

You bit your lip hard, unable to answer right away. God dammit, what had you gotten yourself into? You weren’t seriously considering his proposition before, but now…

“Go to class, please.”

Now Ms. Kelley had come out of her office and was sweeping away the last few stragglers, you and Eddie included.

“I know we’re all a little sluggish this morning, but let’s start this week off strong, okay? There’s still another month before graduation. Don’t lose your focus now.” She looked at you and Eddie tiredly. “You two. Class. Now.”

You sighed as you saw your window of opportunity close. Eddie peeled himself away from you and started down the hallway.

“See ya later,” he said over his shoulder.

“Bye,” you said back, hiding your disappointment behind a smile.

Upon returning to your locker, you grabbed your textbook—the right textbook—and wedged it in the crook of your left elbow. While hunting around for the matching notebook and folder, you heard Eddie’s voice behind you again, catching you completely by surprise.

“Oh, wait,” he said hurriedly, “I forgot to tell you something.”

“Hmm?”

You turned around and felt Eddie’s hands cup the sides of your face, drawing you in for a soft, sweet kiss. You closed your eyes, savoring it. A moment later, he broke the kiss and pulled away.

“See you in third period,” he said, departing with a smile.

It took you a second to recover from that. When you finally did, you clutched your textbook to your chest and smiled uncontrollably, tears brimming in your eyes, your heart racing, stomach fluttering, face glowing with pure, radiant joy.

Under your breath, you whispered, “I hate so much that I have to be in school right now.”

Gareth, on the other hand, was glad to be in school today. Admittedly, his morning had gotten off to a rough start, but things were finally starting to look up for him, and now he felt like he was on the verge of a major breakthrough.

Maybe.

Hopefully.

But he didn’t wanna jinx it.

In first period, Gareth snuck into the library and talked to Matilda Gunn: salutatorian, captain of the debate team, and the third name on Gareth’s list (his new list, of course; the original list was long gone, probably lying in a trashcan somewhere).

Matilda, anyway, was sitting at the back table and studying for her upcoming physics test. Matilda preferred studying in the library over her study hall class because she couldn’t stand the sound of her neighbor chewing and slurping his nails. She wasn’t too happy when Gareth pulled out the chair across from her and sat down. She was even less happy when he brought up Eddie Munson.

“First of all, I’m offended that you would even think I would associate with that moron. I hate the guy. He ruined my GPA. Stupid group projects… God, I hate them!” Enraged, Matilda tore a random leaf out of her notebook and ripped the poor thing to shreds. Gareth watched her do it, horrified, and hoped there was nothing important written on that page. “You know, if I’d known he was gonna slack off like he did, I would’ve just done the whole thing myself. But no… I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I gave him the easiest task and he couldn’t even do that. He said he forgot about it. Said he was busy working on a campaign or something.”

“Yeah, he gets like that sometimes,” Gareth said. “Like last month, he spent the whole weekend learning ‘Master of Puppets.’ Have you heard that song?”

Matilda shook her head, her eyes glazed with boredom.

“Well, doesn’t matter. It’s a very hard song to play. That’s all you need to know. And Eddie became obsessed with it. He locked himself in his room all weekend and practiced over and over and—”

Matilda pressed her hand to her temple and hissed, “Listen, junior freak, I don’t give a shit about Eddie Munson and his fucking guitar. Okay? Second of all, I didn’t even go to prom on Saturday. I was studying all weekend, studying for this test, and if I don’t get an A, I’m gonna hold you personally responsible. Now get lost.”

Gareth lurched back in his seat and felt his mouth go dry.

(Once again, why were high school girls so needlessly cruel?)

“Okay,” he said in a small voice. “I’m, uhh, sorry for bothering you.”

He got up to leave.

“Wait,” Matilda said with a sigh; then after a moment of careful, painful deliberation, she put out her hand. “Gimme your stupid list.”

Gareth held the list against his chest, protecting it. “You’re not gonna rip it up, are you?” he asked, observing the tattered remains of her last victim. “Because I’m getting kinda tired of writing all these names out.”

And some of those girls had really long names.

“I’m not gonna rip it up.” Matilda’s voice was strained with frustration and fatigue, but there was still some warmth hiding in there, dimly glowing beneath the cold black coals of her heart. “I’m gonna help you narrow it down, okay? Otherwise, you’ll never figure it out.” She motioned impatiently with her hand. “Come on, hurry up.”

Gareth handed her the list and she looked it over for a minute, vaguely amused.

“Not a very long list,” she said while uncapping her highlighter with her teeth.

“Well, Eddie’s very picky.”

As he should be, Gareth thought. That man deserved the best.

(much better than you)

Matilda snorted under her breath. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s it.” She rolled her eyes, bent her head, and began marking up the list with her highlighter. Her hand was calm and controlled, each movement deliberate, precise, as to be expected of an advanced test taker. “Okay, she has a boyfriend… she, I’m pretty sure, has a girlfriend… boyfriend… boyfriend… boyfriend… she’s been out of town for a funeral… and she… doesn’t even live in this state anymore.”

She crossed off the last name and slid the paper across the table.

Gareth gaped at it, speechless. “You just eliminated everyone.”

Matilda shrugged. “Like I said, not a long list.”

It was a major setback, the kind of setback that made you want to tear the whole thing to pieces, cut your losses, and give up. Gareth seriously considered it. He almost did it while sitting in his second-period class.

But then an angel appeared. A blonde-haired, blue-eyed angel named Olivia Kent.

She peered over his shoulder during class. “Whatcha doin’?” she asked, sitting with her chin on her palm.

Gareth considered lying, saying he was working on his assignment or something, but in his current state, he didn’t have the heart to deceive anyone, especially not Olivia, who was so innocent and kind.

“I’m trying to figure out who my friend went home with after prom.”

“Oh? Who’s your friend?”

“Eddie Munson.”

“Oh…” Olivia giggled a silly, unaffected giggle. “Yeah, he had quite the night.”

Gareth turned around in his seat. “You were at prom, Livvy?”

“Mhm! It was a lotta fun.”

“And you saw Eddie there?”

“Sure. I saw him lots of times.”

“Did you see him leave with anybody?”

“Sure did… I saw everything.”

“You saw everything?” Gareth sat back, awestruck, and felt tears come to his eyes. This was it. This was finallyit. This was the breakthrough that Gareth had been waiting for. An eyewitness—a star witness—had emerged at last, willing and eager to cooperate. “Oh, Livvy, you beautiful, beautiful, heavenly creature, tell me everything.”

“About what?”

“About prom, Livvy.”

“Oh, you wanna hear about prom?” Olivia shrugged, smiled, and said, “Okay! Philip Cuthbert asked me. I didn’t think he was going to, but then he totally surprised me! I wore a frilly pink dress and matching pink heels. Phillip wore a dark blue tux and a black bowtie. I think it was black, but it might’ve been blue, too. Then Philip got me one of those really pretty flower bracelets… What are those called again? Oh, right, corsages! Anyway, we took pictures on the front lawn of my house, then we took pictures at his house, and then we took more pictures in front of City Hall. I don’t normally like taking so many pictures, but I didn’t mind so much in this case. It was a special occasion. Phillip said I looked very pretty. He was really nice to me all night. He held my hand. He bought me dinner. He got me some cake. I actually ate two slices of cake that night, but don’t tell anybody, okay? I was only supposed to have one. And then we danced and drank punch and we danced again—”

Gareth put his hand on top of hers, making Olivia blush and look at him in doe-eyed wonderment. “Livvy, I’m glad you had such a fun time at prom, but since class is gonna be ending soon, do you think you could speed things up and get to the part where you saw Eddie? Is that okay?”

“Sure,” Olivia said, smiling. “I saw him talking to Chrissy.”

“Yeah, he went there to ask her to dance. I told him it was a terrible idea, but he refused to listen to me.”

“Yeah, that was a bad idea. Why would he do that?”

“Because Eddie’s a hopeless romantic.”

“Really?” Olivia frowned, considering it. “He doesn’t seem like one.”

“He hides it behind a mask of cynicism, and he hides it very well.”

“Oh,” Livvy said, mystified by the concept. “Well, I guess that explains why he got up on stage then.”

“Wait, Eddie got up on stage?”

Damn, Gareth thought, that’s actually really impressive.

“Mhm! He gave this long speech and everything. My friends said it was really weird and embarrassing, but honestly, I thought it was kinda sweet. Super embarrassing, but sweet. It was kind of like a… hmm… well, I guess you could call it a love confession. I don’t remember what he said exactly, but it was really adorable, and normally I wouldn’t use that word to describe Eddie—you know, ‘cause he’s so mean and scary-looking—but at that moment, he really was adorable. Kinda like a puppy. And then he played Journey and—”

Gareth’s head rocked back. “He played Journey? Eddie played Journey? Eddie doesn’t like Journey. Nobody likes Journey. Nobody except…”

(you)

Gareth’s eyes widened. His stomach plummeted to the floor. Then he shook his head and the thought was gone.

“Okay, maybe it’s just a coincidence,” he said. “Maybe the DJ suggested Journey. Do you remember what song it was, Livvy?”

“No, I don’t. Sorry, I’m not very good with song titles.”

“Was it ‘Separate Ways’? ‘Any Way You Want It’? ‘Don’t Stop Believin’’? ‘Faithfully’? ‘Open Arms’?”

“You know, for someone who doesn’t like Journey, you sure know a lot of Journey songs.”

And for someone who seemed like such an airhead, Olivia Kent was shockingly observant. Gareth was rather impressed. He couldn’t help but tip his head to her. Touché, fair lady.

“I think it was the last one,” Olivia said.

“‘Open Arms’?”

“I think so.”

“So Eddie played a sappy love song,” Gareth concluded while rubbing his chin. “Makes sense.”

“Mhm… and it must’ve worked ‘cause she left with him right after.”

“You saw the girl who left with him?”

“Yep.”

“You saw her face?”

“Of course I did. She walked right past me.”

“And did you recognize her?”

“Uh-huh!”

“YES!” Gareth pumped his fists excitedly. He almost leaped out of his chair and kissed her, he was so happy. “Who was it, Livvy? Tell me who it was!”

Olivia sighed. “I don’t remember.”

“What?” Gareth’s heart shattered. “But you just said you recognized her.”

“I did recognize her face, but I don’t remember her name… Sorry, Gareth, I’m not very good with names.”

“You’re not good with names,” Gareth repeated softly, beside himself. “She’s not good with names. She’s not good with names. My star witness isn’t good with names.”

He laughed madly to himself, feeling dizzy and delirious, feeling like the whole room was spinning like a turntable. A turntable playing Journey. Journey! Of all the bands in the world, Eddie, why Journey? Why? Why?

Meanwhile, Olivia rested her cheek against her palm and smiled at him. “You have really pretty eyes. Do you want my number?”

Gareth paused, considering it. His face turned bright red.

“Yes, Livvy. Yes, I’d love to get your number.”

“Cool!” She scribbled it on a piece of notebook paper and handed it to him. “Call me sometime, okay?”

So now Gareth was strolling away from his third-period class with a laminated hall pass in hand, Olivia Kent’s phone number in his pocket, a massive pit in his stomach, and Steve Perry’s annoying voice in his head.

Journey.

Eddie had requested Journey.

It wasn’t a coincidence, was it?

Gareth walked past Mr. Prichard’s math class, stopped, and backpedaled a few paces. He pressed his face against the glass and peered inside.

Eddie was sitting at his desk with his assignment out and textbook open in front of him. He had his pencil in his hand, but he had yet to write a single answer. He was just tapping it against his notebook while he stared absently at the chalkboard, stared with a faraway look in his eyes. Gareth knew that look. It meant Eddie was lost in thought, usually about D&D or whatever new song he was learning, but today Gareth had a sneaking suspicion that Eddie was thinking about something else—or rather someone else.

But not you. Please, God, not you.

You were sitting behind him and quietly working on your assignment, just working on your assignment, and that caught Gareth a little off guard. If you had gone home with Eddie (as Gareth begrudgingly suspected now), shouldn’t you have been acting a little… happy? excited? Shouldn’t you have been staring at the back of his head with a dumb, lovesick expression? Daydreaming and doodling about him in your notebook? Naming your future children and planning your destination wedding?

Gareth expected to feel something when he peeked into that classroom. A change in energy. A shift in the natural balance of the universe. Call it whatever you want, but there should have been a noticeable difference in the air, right? Right?

But there wasn’t.

Everything was totally normal.

You and Eddie were acting totally normal.

And that filled Gareth with an exhilarating sense of relief.

It wasn’t you. Thank God, it wasn’t you.

Gareth backed away with a smile. If he had stayed a minute longer, he would have seen the exact change in energy he had been waiting for. If he had stayed a minute longer, he would have seen Eddie turn around and start talking to you. He would have seen you smile and blush and tell him to go back to his assignment (even though you didn’t really want him to go back to his assignment). Then he would have seen Eddie turn back to the front, try to do his work, give up, and turn around again five minutes later.

But Gareth didn’t stay. Instead, he continued down the hallway in blissful ignorance, pulled out his list, ripped it up, and tossed the pieces into the trash.

If it wasn’t any of them and it wasn’t you, there was only one logical conclusion.

“She doesn’t go to school here, does she?”

Gareth forced this treasonous charge onto Eddie as soon as he arrived at the cafeteria. He had found his target sitting at his usual place at the head of the table. The seat of high honor. Eddie’s chair. The king’s chair. Gareth, a once-honorable and faithful soldier, slammed down his tray, leaned forward, pressed his palms into the table, and looked Eddie Munson square in the eye. Unblinking. Unflinching. Unyielding against his Dungeon Master’s powerful, intimidating aura.

A moment of tense silence passed. Jeff and Grant looked at each other and immediately stopped eating. Jeff put down his peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Grant screwed on the lid of his soup thermos and set the container aside. There was no telling how long this would take. Gareth had a talent for prolonging his inevitable demise. It was like watching a slow hanging.

Oh, but what a show it would be.

“Who is she, Eddie?” Gareth thrust out his finger accusingly. “Huh? Is she a teacher? A townie? Some drunk chick you picked up at the bar while drowning your pathetic sorrows away?”

“Yikes,” Jeff said, cringing.

And Grant said, “That is quite the allegation.”

Indeed it was, and Eddie didn’t seem to appreciate the open assault on his character. His brown eyes sharpened into a steely glare. They reflected Gareth’s destruction like a black crystal ball. Doom. Doom. Doom.

“Get your finger outta my face,” Eddie said, and that was all he needed to say.

“I’m so sorry,” Gareth said, and fell back into his chair with a thump. His heart thudded in his chest while the color slowly returned to his face. That was as close to death as Gareth had ever come. It was a miracle he’d survived. He bent his head and capitulated: “I sincerely apologize for my previous statement. It was malicious and rude, completely unbecoming of my position.”

Grant squinted his eyes curiously. “And what is your position, exactly?”

“I’m Eddie’s best friend, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Jeff echoed, snickering.

Grant, wryly amused, said, “Uhh, I’m pretty sure Scottie’s his best friend.”

Eddie, having dropped his tyrannous facade, was pretending to listen while absentmindedly picking through his snack bag, his thoughts elsewhere, eyes elsewhere. But where, Gareth couldn’t say. He had strained his neck to see who Eddie was looking at, but it was impossible to tell with so many people in the cafeteria. He could have been looking at anyone, anyone, anyone except you.

“He’s right,” Eddie murmured. “Scottie’s my best friend.”

Gareth shrugged, unconcerned with such trivial technicalities. “Well, then I’m your second best friend, Eddie, and since Scottie’s in prison right now, I have to step in and assume the role in his stead.”

“Ah, the interim best friend. So that’s the imaginary position you gave yourself.”

“Oh, shut up and eat your soup, Grant.”

“I will eat my soup,” Grant said, “and I’ll enjoy it while you continue to embarrass yourself.”

“You’re embarrassing yourself,” Gareth grumbled nonsensically. He stabbed a piece of broccoli with his fork, stuffed it into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. It tasted like dirt. “I’m having a really horrible day.”

“Well, that’s too bad,” Eddie said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Mine’s actually going pretty well.”

Another cryptic response. Gareth simply couldn’t take it anymore.

“You know,” Jeff began, “speaking of Scottie—”

Gareth flung down his fork angrily, sending a spear of broccoli whizzing past Grant’s left shoulder.

“Oh, come on, just tell me who it is already! Enough with the hints and the coded language. I swear to God, you’re driving me crazy, Eddie! You’ve been torturing me for days with this mystery. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t think about anything else. As your friend, I’m begging you to stop. Please, for my sanity, stop.”

Eddie popped a pretzel into his mouth and chewed. “I’ve been torturing you?”

Grant said, “He’s been torturing himself, honestly.”

Jeff nodded, seeming on the verge of laughter. “Yeah, he made a list and everything.”

Eddie grimaced. “Wait, there’s a list? Why is there a list?”

“Because you’ve driven me to madness, Eddie!” Gareth blurted out in blind white rage. “I hope you’re happy because you’ve driven me to complete madness! Who were you with on Saturday? Don’t even try to deny it because I heard a girl talking in the background. It wasn’t the TV. It was a girl. A living, breathing girl. I know you were with her that night, and I know you were with her yesterday.”

“I wasn’t with her yesterday,” Eddie replied, his eyelids heavy with annoyance. “I already told you, I was out running errands.”

“Oh, you’re sticking with that story, huh? Okay, Eddie, let’s assume you were out running errands. Let’s assume you spent your whole Sunday exactly as you said. You got up bright and early, stopped by the drugstore for God knows what, and then spent the rest of the day by yourself at home, cleaning out your van.”

“I did clean out my van yesterday. That’s how I found my lost W.A.S.P. tape.”

“Oh, which album?” Grant asked.

“The Last Command,” Eddie answered, a soft smile touching his face.

Wait, was that another clue?

“Nice,” Grant said. “That’s a solid album.”

Eddie nodded, agreeing, but now there was a distant glimmer in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Gareth couldn’t take his eyes off it. It was as if his friend was lost in a cherished memory.

What significance did this W.A.S.P. tape hold?

Was there any significance?

These questions twisted Gareth’s mind into a pretzel.

And speaking of pretzels, Eddie had set down his snack bag and stopped eating. Weird. He now sat with his arms folded over his chest, fingers drumming impatiently against his right bicep. His wandering eyes kept going back to the clock. Counting down the minutes. What had him so restless all of a sudden? What was he waiting for? His next class? English? Was that significant? Eddie hated English. He dreaded English. He complained about it every day because it meant he had to see—

Eddie pushed off the table and stood up. Gareth climbed up from his chair, too.

“Where are you going, Eddie?”

“Dude,” Jeff said, looking up at him. “You need to calm down.”

“Otherwise,” Grant went on, “you might get demoted to third best friend.”

The two of them dissolved into laughter. Gareth didn’t even hear them.

“It’s happening,” he muttered. “Something’s happening.”

“Yeah, you annoyed Eddie so much that he had to leave to get away from you.”

But that wasn’t it. Eddie wasn’t fleeing for the exit like a coward. No, he was marching straight through the middle of the cafeteria like a lone soldier charging through the battlefield. Charging to victory or to death. He was infiltrating the enemy’s stronghold, impervious to their hostile glares and raised eyebrows. Even Jason Carver himself, who had begun to get out of his chair, could not stop him today. Eddie was a man determined, a man determined to get to

(of course)

you.

He wedged himself between two basketball players, pushed his palms into the table, and greeted you with a charming smile. You gazed up at him in sweet surprise.

“Hi,” you said.

“Hi,” he said back. “You wanna skip next period?”

Chrissy’s jaw dropped. “Oh my god,” she said while you blushed, buried your face in your hands, and giggled.

Gareth, dumbstruck, slumped back into his chair with the bitter taste of defeat in his mouth.

That bitch, he thought. That Journey-loving bitch, she actually did it.

Grant regarded him with an impressed frown. “You know, you’re handling this a lot better than I thought you would. When did you figure it out?”

Gareth sighed. “Second period.”

Eddie just had to play Journey.

There was a moment of solemn silence after that. Then Grant unscrewed his soup thermos and lunch resumed as usual. Jeff took a bite of his sandwich. Gareth, now resigned to his grim fate, stuck his fork into his meatloaf and cut himself a modest slice. The meat looked dry and grey. What a horrible new world he lived in.

But, he supposed, there was something to look forward to.

“I got Olivia Kent’s number today. I think I’m gonna ask her out this weekend.”

SERIES MASTERPOST

FANFICTION MASTERLIST

unfortunately, i no longer do taglists. if you want to stay updated on my fics, you can follow me and/or subscribe to my posts. thank you!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #stranger things #stranger things 4 #hellfire club #gareth stranger things #jeff stranger things #jason carver #chrissy cunningham #chrissy x jason #eddie munson x dwm!reader #dancing with myself #dwm #dwm short #ambrossart

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