jade

His teeth maybe clatter as he fishes for his key from the pocket of his thick jacket. He barely gets the door open before a bag slips out of his hold, a fresh baked loaf of bread thumps to the floor. He huffs. Kicks the door shut with the heel of his shoe with a little too much aggression and slides bags onto the counter from his arms. He then grabs at the runaway bread.

He doesn’t see you during all of this. You’re usually greeting him as you exit the hall. But you’re not there.

Eddie locks the door before his eyes glaze around the apartment. Your stuff is everywhere. Little things that have gathered over the few months you’ve been living with him. Hair ties. The ribbons you lace in your hair sometimes. Earrings. Makeup brushes. A lot of lip glosses. Silver bangles. It’s like his apartment has collected little things of you. He won’t ever say this out loud because he looks annoyed all the time, but he loves your scattered shit everywhere.

He doesn’t call out for you as he steps more into the home. He finds you rather quickly. You’re a small girl and your sitting on the floor like your five. You’re hidden before the couch, slumped over the coffee table. Your hands move quickly and your bottom lip is held captive by your teeth.

“Hi, Eds.” He flinches at your voice, surprised you’ve even noticed him without a glance. He’s not as quiet as he thinks.

His hand drags over the couch as he rounds it, peering down at you and your movements. He can’t quite see what you’re doing, like you’re keeping it hidden with hunched shoulders and a cramped up back. “What we doin’, star?”

He sees the sides of your cheeks lift. You’re smiling. At his nickname that he’s been saying since he’s met you two years ago. He’s your boyfriend, but not your boyfriend who calls you his stargirl. You don’t mind the no label. You’re happy and Eddie likes holding your hand. He doesn’t hold people’s hands.

“Did you drop something?” You say sweetly, completely ignoring his last question.

He hums and slouches into the couch behind you, his knee gently grazes your back and the tip of his boot slips past your bottom. “Runaway Bread. What are you doing?” You finally take notice of his question, but your hands don’t stop moving. He can hear pencils on paper and markers with felt tips drag color. “New designs for my class.. I think they might be okay.”

They’re probably more than okay, he thinks.

And finally, your hands stop. He notices the dark shading of led on both sides of your hands and fingertips. You have marker splotches along your skin too. He smiles. “You let me see ‘em?”

You finally look over at him, smiling soft. “I suppose I can.” Your nose wrinkles as he scoffs a laugh. You look so warm. He still seems cold.

You gently pass him the sketch papers, and with his free hand he takes yours and helps you climb onto the couch. You settle in next to him, your sock covered toes slip under his jean clad thigh. He smiles at the feel of your wiggling toes. He squeezes your closest ankle before he looks through the couple of designs. You love fashion school. Eddie loves that you love fashion school.

You notice his red bitten face as you try and rub off led from your skin, its smudges a bit more. “You cold?” You mumble, chin now resting on his shoulder. He shrugs a bit, your face moves up with the movement. “Stop talking, I’m trying to focus on the masterpieces in front of me.”

You roll your eyes fondly and slip off the couch. You wash your hands at the kitchen sink before grabbing a soft blanket from the basket by the end of the couch. You come back to him and he has a hand opened for you, his eyes still on the sketches. One in particular, one that’s based off his own style. “This one is my favorite,” he mumbles.

You smile, “sit up, please.” He does what he’s told without realizing what you’re doing. He’s looking at the details. Your work is fucking amazing.

You drape the blanket over his shoulders and gently tuck it into his front. His eyes gaze to yours at the sudden warmth. “Star.”

You beam. “Eddie.” You sit down next to him again, two fingers dragging over his pink nose and rosy cheek. “You’re cold, handsome.”

Eddie rolls his eyes with a smile and gently places your papers back on the coffee table, that you’ve turned into a mess.

“C’mere,” he mumbles. You gasp as his hands snatch you up, slumping into his lap. Now the blanket covers you both.

“You warm now?” You hum, forehead resting on his own.

He scoffs, a soft peck to the corner of your mouth. “Obviously. But I was never cold to begin with.” You stare at him, amused. He pushes out his chin a little with a glint in his eye, teasing. You roll your eyes, “right.” You press a kiss to the corner of his mouth now, but it isn’t enough for him. He takes your lips against his, squeezing your sides till you pull away giggling.

“So, you dropped bread earlier? Poor bread.”

You had rushed over without a problem, only living down the street. It was a short bike ride. One you hadn’t minded, even if you were livid with him and his disappearance act.

You had heard the news. Everyone had. Eddie Munson was missing. Chrissy Cunningham was still dead. Jason Carver was now missing. Max was in the hospital. So many others were dead. Half the town was in shambles.

And you didn’t know a thing of the truth.

You hadn’t seen Steve in two days. Every call went unanswered. Every visit to his vacant home left you leaving without seeing him. You’re not surprised by this, he does it all the time. Disappear. It’s happened like once every year since you’ve gotten with him. This year makes number three.

And when he does come back to you, there’s always a million apologies on his tongue and faded bruises on his skin. But tonight, everything is at its peak. Right in front of you. The red ring around his neck. The chunks of skin missing from his abdomen. Small littering cuts. You’re simply staring at him as he leans against the bathroom sink. There’s a towel low around his waist and his hair is wet and dripping. You can’t even be mad at him when he looks like this. You don’t fucking understand.

He hasn’t met your eye in a while.

“I’m sorry,” he suddenly whispers. It’s all too quiet in the bathroom. The steam from his shower is making you dizzy. You suck in a breath before you can cry. He’s looking for your eyes now. You wave a hand at him, staring at the white of his towel. “Can you just let me get the first aid kit, please?”

He winces at the way you sound. He moves, his back scrapes the wall as you bend down to shuffle around under his bathroom sink. Steve tries again, sick to his stomach. “Honey—” You can’t right now.

Your eyes screw shut as you grab onto the kit. “Steve. Please. Just go sit on your bed. I.. I need a minute.” He swallows, thick. He nods, even though you can’t see him. He pulls on his fingers till they ache as he walks the short distance to his room. He sits right on the edge of his bed, staring at the door. Waiting for you.

You stand after a second. Your eyes meet yourself in the mirror. Your face is caked with sleep. Your eyes are teary. You frown and shut the light off as you head for Steve’s room.

He perks up when you appear, it’s accompanied with a small wince. Your frown deepens as you take a seat next to him. “You.. You should lay back, so I can cover these easier.” He just nods. He lays back and you still won’t reach his eyes.

It’s quiet for a while. The only noise is your sniffles, crinkled plastic, and Steve’s occasional whispers. You don’t even have it in you to say soft sorry’s. You’re confused. Scared. Worried. Angry. And Steve’s here, breathing heavy as you look down at his ripped skin. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he whispers. His eyes are glued to his ceiling.

You stare at his moving abdomen. “Looks pretty bad, Steve. There’s.. Theres teeth marks? Your skin is literally missing here..” Your finger gently moves to point and you flinch in surprise when he takes your hand in his. Your eyes are forced to meet his. He looks guilty. You’re still frowning.

“I’m sorry I called you. I.. I know I’ve been a dick. I know I’ve been gone. But honey, I’m okay. I’m here. Things are fine.”

You stare. Your jaw clicks. You want to rip your hand from his hold, but you love his hold. You need his hold right now. The reassurance. “Things are not fine, Steve.” You seethe, eyes watery slits. “Fucking look at you!” He frowns at your tone and your words. He knows he shouldn’t have called you, but he needed to see your face.

Your other hand waved towards his day old wounds. “What.. What even are these? Where did you get them! There’s damn teeth marks, Steve! I don’t get it!” You can’t sit, you stand during your vomit of words. Your anxious and your hand is still in his. Never too far.

He lets go of your hand slowly and sits up himself. He frowns as he looks at you. Tired. Chest moving quick. You look terrified. He wonders if he looks around the same?

“Honey, I can’t.. I just can’t explain it. I don’t know how.”

You glare at him. “Steve, I can not keep doing this? You’re like a damn mystery! God, whatever you’re doing is painful! Look at your stomach! That’s insane! It’s making me sick!”

He doesn’t know what to say. He can’t tell you the truth. He won’t. You can’t die. He can’t have that. He has to keep you far from it all. He lets out a breath, “I am okay.”

You’re heavy breathing, hands balled up into fist down at your sides. You stare at the bandages that take up a lot of his skin. “I’m okay,” he whispers again as he stands. He towers over you as his hands coat your fist. He squeezes gently. He takes you softly into him. Your eyes screw shut, you’re scared to touch him. He kisses your hairline. You cannot do this.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again.

It’s summer, and summer means parties.

You hadn’t really wanted to come. Parties, big parties, at least, aren’t necessarily your thing. You’d also woken up this morning with an awful feeling in your chest. Like a boulder’s been sitting on your chest all day just rambling about nothing important. And mister boulder won’t seem to move till he’s done talking, and he won’t stop talking.

You’d come to the party anyway. For Steve. Because you like Steve. And Robin says Steve likes you too. But you highly doubt that.

You’re not sure, but around twenty minutes ago, before you disappeared upstairs, a crowd of them were doing shots off bodies. It might’ve been Eddie on the counter with Nancy’s lips against his tattooed skin. You aren’t really sure. Your head is still spinning.

You’ve been in Steve’s home before. You find his door quicker than you mean too. It’s quiet up here.

Your back pushes against the wood once you’re in, taking a deep breath. Your eyes screw shut as you push the ends of your palms into them. You smudge your mascara.

Your eyes ghost along Steve’s room. You’ve been in here briefly a couple of times before. Your palm glides over his made comforter before you take a gentle seat. You stare at his wood floors for a little before letting your body fall back into his bed with huff. You aren’t sure what’s wrong with you now. You hug yourself. It’s quiet for about six minutes before the door opens.

“Knew I’d find you here, cupcake.” Oh.

Your eyes peel open at the all too familiar voice. You sit up on your elbows as the door closes. Steve looks awfully pretty. Hair highlighted and a bit messy, like his fingers have tugged on it endlessly. He looks like he’s glowing. Plain black shirt. Jeans that sit low on his waist. He’s got his gold chain on, he always has it on. There’s a red solo cup in his hand, but he doesn’t seem drunk. He seems very far from it. He seems to catch your eye as he stands before you.

He smiles small. “Fruit punch. The normal kind. You want any?” You smile small up at him, you shake your head as in no. He places the cup in your hand anyways. He’s like that.

He takes a seat next to you and gently squeezes your bare knee. You’ve got a cute little, short flowy white skirt on. It complements you nicely. “Thank you for coming,” he says gently. You sip the drink gently. He carries on, staring at your scuffed high tops. “I know you hate these things. It means a lot to me.”

Your gaze flickers to his now. He seems to feel it, he looks over at you too. He smiles. Warm. Sweet. Honeyed. Your cheeks fade pink. “It’s no biggie, Stevie.”

A whimper almost crawls up his throat and slams past his lips to break his teeth. He smiles more. Skin a little hot. “S’okay if I hang out with you up here?” He’s doing it again. Making sure you’re all good.

You raise a brow and place the drink back in his hand gently. “It’s your room?”

Steve can’t stop smiling. “Yeah. True, but you’re more fun to be with than the mess downstairs.” You aren’t sure you believe him, but you decide to take his word for it. “Okay.”

He laughs a little and presses a soft, wet kiss to the highest point of your cheek. You laugh gently, nose scrunching up. He squeezes your knee again.

You had passed along a little jewelry cart, all the different colors catching you glazing eye. You had tumbled off your bike a little too dramatically, almost falling, as you jogged the few steps back to the stand.

The lady had been nice, talking to you as you looked a little too long, but came out alive with a soft pastel anklet. The beads looking all too pretty next to one another on the thin silver chain, the clasp was dainty.

You’d never seen John B wear an anklet, you aren’t even particularly sure why it had called your attention—but you got it for him regardless. If he didn’t like it, you’d keep it. (Plus, even if he didn’t like it, he’d never say that to your face. He cared about your feelings a little too much for a teenage boy and whatever.)

You could see the Twinkie the second you biked into the parking lot. The side door open, Kiara sitting at the edge and scrolling through her phone—there was a styrofoam container next to her. Probably fries or chips, from her dad. JJ was at the front of the vehicle, seemingly staring off—his back was facing you. Pope stood at the back tires, hands on his hips as he paced a little. He spotted you first as you tumbled off your bike noisily once more, letting the slightly rusted transportation fall to the tall grass.

Pope gaped. “Took you long enough! We’ve been waiting for, like, ever!” You smiled, cheeks tinted red and hair a little frizzy from the heat of the ride. “I know, I’m sorry! I got distracted again—” Kiara and JJ were now looking at you, attentions called by yours and Pope’s voices. Kie was smiling small, almost a little nervous? JJ looked highly uncomfortable, and JJ was never uncomfortable. You paused, thoughts too big and mouth moving ever too quickly before you could finish one thought for the next. “—Where’s B?”

It was silent for a moment, your three friends looking between themselves. They weren’t telling you something, but it was on the tip of someone’s tongue. Your eyes swam towards JJ, “is he okay? Where is he?” You asked gently, rolling on the balls of you feet a little. You seemed a little oblivious to the uncomfortable blanket on top of your friends.

JJ scratched at his nose and looked at Pope one last time before he finally met your eye. He huffed, hands shoved in his too big pockets. “He’s down at the dock. Got called over.”

Pope winced towards your side and Kiara was seemingly glaring at the blonde. You eased your bottom lip between your teeth. “He got called over?” You asked gently, curious and confused. Why were they cutting corners with you?

JJ frowned a little at you. “You remember Courtney, right? That blonde from the kegs last summer? She was a little close to JB back then—when you guys were just friends?”

“Oh.” You said softly, shoulders sagging a little. Kiara frowned a little, pushing herself up from the Twinkie, quick to aid you—her best friend. “She ordered food and saw him on her way out. She called him over, he kind of couldn’t escape, Sunny. She’s a primadonna, you know how it goes..” They were trying to make you feel better, to assure you, to keep John B at a clear.

Your eyes flickered to her, a soft smile on your lips. “That’s okay.” Of course you knew of Courtney Lovewell, her freaking name was enough for you. She was one of the most popular Pogues, but she wasn’t untouchable. No body was, so you believed.

Your eyes flickered back to JJ, he looked a little less uncomfortable at your calmed reaction. “Is it.. like, okay if I go back there?” You pointed slightly past JJ and towards the dock of the restaurant that was buzzing with clatter and laughter. JJ nodded, small smile on his lips that only ever seem to appear for you—his best friend’s all too kind girlfriend. Even he couldn’t be snarky with you, your nose always too scrunched up to be pushy. “‘Course, Sun.”

You smiled at the three, small and collected. Your arms wrapped around yourself as you passed them. Your nails dug into your arms a little. Courtney Lovewell was pushy and John B wasn’t the best at declaring when he was uncomfortable around girls—too scared to come off as the bad guy, because he wasn’t.

You turned the corner to see the dock, you spotted her in the boat first. She had a couple of her friends in it, they were talking amongst themselves and munching on their order from the restaurant you assumed. Courtney hung off the side, hands planted on the boats edge, sunglasses up in her long blonde hair. She was beaming at John B in her black bikini, skin all too tan. His back facing you, but you could tell just from his shoulders—he was tense. Uncomfortable. It made you frown.

You watched him step back a little, hands shoved into the back pockets of his dark swim shorts. You’d gotten them for him, a whole week paycheck from the surf shop and you’d spent them on swim shorts—that weren’t even for you. John B had called you ridiculous, said he pay you back. You rolled your eyes with blushing cheeks, don’t be silly, it’s a gift. A week later, without you realizing, you had an extra fifteen bucks in your bag.

The boat swayed a little as one girl started it up, clearly a sign for Courtney to shut the hell up and get it going. Courtney seem to glare back at her friend, but said her bye’s to John B, her fingers dragging over his shoulder. You watched him tense a bit more, a soft nod aimed at her. He wasn’t rude.

You leaned against the start of the dock’s railing, chin rested on your tan arm. As John B turned your way you caught his face, scrunched up and uncomfortable as he glared down at his shoes. He sighed a little as he looked up, lips parting as he spotted you. Shocked. A little scared. You sent him a soft smile. “Hi, B.”

The boy bit his lip gently as he looked back at Courtney’s leaving boat. “I didn’t, like,—” He wasn’t sure what he was trying to say? He felt like he’d been caught, even if he hadn’t done anything wrong.

You laughed way too softly and pushed off the railing, skin a little tacky from the heat. “You aren’t in trouble, B.” He seem to deflate at your words as he reached you, he didn’t waste any time with pulling you into a tight grip hug. Your chin hooked over his shoulder, pushing up on your toes as one of his hands cupped the back of your head, the other right against your waist. He squeezed your hip warmly.

You watched Courtney’s boat, the blonde back at the motors glaring at you as she got smaller with distance. You couldn’t help but smile and waved softly at her. The girl rolled her eyes and turned away, just as John B gently pulled away from you. “You’re late,” he mumbled. His fingers skated across your face and pushed back strands of your hair glued to your hot face.

You beamed, suddenly remembering why you’d been late. “I know. M’sorry, I got distracted and bought something for you.”

John B groaned, a hand at the side of your neck gently. “Sunny, how many times do I have to tell you to stop wastin’ your money on me.” You rolled your eyes and twinkled up at him, “hands out and eyes closed, please.” He listened, eyes closed and directed up at the sky, his two hands cupped together for you.

“I don’t know if you’re going to even like it, but I thought it was pretty.” You gently pull the anklet from your back pocket, the silver chain and beads warm in your palm.

You gently placed it in his hands. You tapped the inside of his wrist softly. “Okay, open.” John B’s eyes peeled back and he looked down, a soft smile splitting open on his face as he fingered at the light colored beads. “It’s an anklet,” you mumbled, head tilted to the side a little as you looked up at him. “I think it would look good on you, B. Nice with your tan and what not..”

The boy’s nose scrunched up as he looked at you. “Yeah? You think?” You beamed and leaned towards him, “I do think.”

He smiled, the anklet tight in his closed hand. “It’s fuckin’ perfect, Sunny.” You laughed gently as he leaned forward, pushing his lips into yours. You cupped his face, overly excited. “I knew you’d like it.”

John B hummed, arm slumped over your shoulders suddenly. “Should get you a matching one.” You gasped, cheeks big and bright. “You’d wanna match with me?”