former gifted child

He had struck up a conversation with you because you seemed nice... and he had caught you staring at him a couple of times. The party was small, with only about fifteen people. But the dorms were not made for hosting more than about four people at once, so it felt crowded and cramped. The boxed wine was blackening the teeth of the people around you, and you giggled as your drunk friends danced with each other on the carpet.

You were sitting on Nancy's bed, legs dangling off the edge, glass bottle of cider in hand (for fuck's sake, it was Autumn, after all), when he walked up to you.

"I like your costume," he said shyly. You glanced down, noticing your own cleavage and exposed thighs. You chuckled and looked back up at him knowingly.

"Thanks."

He would have laughed with you if he wasn't so scared shitless. He bit his bottom lip, looking off to the side, debating if he should leave while he was ahead. You haven't fucked it up yet. Best to head out before you make it weir-

"Who are you supposed to be?"

He slowly turned his head to look back at you. You looked up into his eyes, waiting for an answer. His lips parted at the sight.

"Vampire."

That sent you into a fit of giggles.

"I'm a vampire," he corrected, right hand pulling down the collar of his shirt a bit to show the two red dots he had painted on himself. He wore a black button-down shirt, black pants, and black shoes.

"Where are your fangs?" you asked, tilting your head to check out the two little dots that he was clearly very proud of.

"It's impossible to drink with these shits in my mouth," he replied, pulling a plastic pair of fangs out of his pocket. When you laughed at him for the third time, he took it as an invitation to sit next to you on the bed.

"How do you know Nancy?" you asked.

"High school," he replied, looking out into the room to see her dancing with a few other friends. "You?"

"She's in a club with my roommate and found out I had no plans tonight, so... I ended up here." You took another sip of your cider, nearing the bottom of the bottle.

The room was getting warmer and darker as the daylight faded from the open windows. All that lit the room was a small blue light coming from the opposite corner of the room. His pale skin looked pretty, the tint of blue turning his eyes dark.

"You're staring at me again," he said softly.

You broke out of your trance, looking into his eyes once again. "Again?"

He laughed, tucking the fangs back into his pocket. "I'm Eddie." That was his way of bailing you out—changing the subject from the fact that he had totally caught you.

As the party went on, Nancy convinced you to get up and dance with her. She held out her arms, singing along to the song playing through her speaker and frowning at you playfully. You giggled, setting your empty bottle down beside you and accepting her hands, standing up to dance a little. From the corner of your eye, you could see Eddie smiling and sipping from a paper cup, sitting exactly where you left him.

When the socialite moved along to dance with another friend of hers, you made your way back to the boy on her bed. "Now you're staring at me," you said confidently, standing nearly between his parted knees. He looked so soft as he gazed up at you, mouth slightly agape and eyes relaxed.

"Whoops," he said, but his gaze remained unaltered. The two of you enjoyed a moment of silence, just looking at each other. The stream of consciousness that usually kept you worrying about how you looked, what you'd talk about next, and if you were actually interesting to whoever you were talking to was paused.

Spit it out spit it out spit it out spit it

"Do you want to come upstairs with me?"

The words flew out before you even realized you were thinking them. And thank the Halloween gods you didn't retract them instantly out of fear, because Eddie was nodding. You felt your back straighten a little taller as he set down the paper cup on the counter beside your empty bottle. Nobody paid attention as the two of you slipped out, him following behind you quietly.

Stepping out into the hallway was a rude awakening. The bright yellow light stung your eyes in contrast to the gentle mood lighting of Nancy's room. The music was muffled behind the door, and the air (though less stuffy) felt thicker. You turned to face him, beginning to worry that the tension you felt only existed in the realm of that party, and that now that the ambiance was far from romantic, he wouldn't be interested anymo-

"What's upstairs?" he asked confidently, taking your hand gently in his.

You looked to him questioningly, hoping that you hadn't misinterpreted what you thought was him flirting with you.

"My roommate won't be back for a while," you said quietly, stepping a bit closer to him. "It'll just be us."

He seemed nervous, so you bit the bullet and leaned in, kissing him for the first time. You pulled away, giving him a chance to retreat if you had misread the situation. The separation didn't last long; his hands moved to cup your cheeks and kiss you deeper.

"Lead the way," he said.

And so you did. He took advantage of the view, behind (and subsequently beneath) you as you lightly jogged up to your room. Your boots clinked against the stair steps, echoing through the stairwell, followed by the heavier thuds of his sneakers.

You drop his hand to fiddle with your shorts, pulling your room key out of the pocket and opening the door.

"Are you sure this is okay?" he asks, slowly following behind you. You grab his wrist and pull him a little closer, closing the door so that you're both tucked into your tiny dorm room.

"She's gone for the weekend," you reply, kissing him again. He's not used to people being so forward with him. Or being invited back to girls' rooms. Or being kissed like that.

When you pull away, Eddie's eyes are wide, looking at you like he's just seen a ghost. He lets a sigh fill his cheeks and lets it out slowly, raking his fingers through his hair and taking in the view before him. You're in your Halloween costume—a cute little dress with thigh-high tights and black boots.

"I know your roommate's gone," he replies. "I mean like, are you sure you want this?" He looks sincere and a bit worried. He fumbles with your hand, and you swear you melt a little inside.

"I dunno," you reply, not breaking eye contact. "Will you put the fangs back in?"

He scoffs, smiling and shaking his head at the floor between you two.

She didn't mean any harm—you don't think, at least—but you still needed to get out of the house. She also wouldn't be upset with you for leaving the house, but she would definitely ask questions. Questions with answers that you didn't feel like telling her. 

Eddie essentially lived alone, which was really convenient on nights like these. After you came home and found your drunk mother particularly frustrating to be around, the two of you got into a fight. She wouldn't remember the next morning, but you would. 

You let yourself into the trailer after driving to Eddie's place, not bothering to knock on the door. You two essentially had an open doors policy—especially when it came to escaping from familial problems. 

You closed the front door quietly and made your way to his bedroom. His door was closed, and you did your very best to open it quietly to not wake him. 

His dark hair was a mess, all over his face and pillows. His pale chest and arms were exposed, but his waist was tucked beneath a flannel blanket. His right cheek pressed into the pillow and his mouth hung slightly open, pushing his lips out each time he exhaled. You grinned at the sight of him and felt better in his presence. 

He was a heavy sleeper, and you really didn't need to wake him up at that very moment, so you quietly kicked off your shoes and slid into bed next to him. You grabbed his left hand and tucked yourself in close to him, setting his hand on your waist. He grumbled in his sleep a little, shifting his head against the pillow. 

"Hi," he softly mumbled, pulling you in tighter. "You good?"

You had been better, but you didn't feel like waking him up so he could listen to a retelling of the same story he'd already heard plenty of times about your mother. 

"Yeah," you assured him. "Just wanted to get out of the house." 

He nodded quietly, still keeping his eyes closed, and then kissed your forehead tenderly. He rested his chin on the top of your head and fell right back to sleep. 

He woke up before you the next morning, only half-remembering falling asleep with you. What he didn't remember was talking to you last night. I hope I didn't miss something bad he thinks to himself. 

He gets the idea to make you breakfast, so he slyly tries to pluck your arm off his torso and place it onto the bed. The movement woke you up, and you opened your eyes to see his face looking a little embarrassed. 

"Mornin'," he softly says. He looks like he's worried he disturbed a peaceful dream. 

"Hey," you reply, giving him a little grin. 

"I was gonna let you sleep," he says, settling back into a comfy position with you. He rests his right elbow on the bed, holding his head up with his hand. His left hand tucks some hair behind your ear and cups your cheek so he can lean in for a quick kiss. You hum in response. 

"I can make us breakfast," he adds. But he doesn't move. He stays still, just looking at your face because he thinks you're just—so pretty. 

You nod and push the blanket down your legs, giving you enough mobility to swing your right leg over his waist and straddle his hips. You quickly release your chest onto his, laying on top of him. 

"In a minute. I'll go with you." 

He giggles in response, placing both of his hands on your waist and slowly sliding his hands up and down your body. 

"If you're this tired, you can just relax," he insists. "I'm offering, really."

You shake your head and pull him in tighter, repeating, "In a minute, then I'll come with you." 

He nods softly and halts his protest. His hands lift off your back slowly until only the pads of his middle fingers remain in contact with your skin. He draws swirls and squiggly lines up and down your spine and hips, squeezing his eyes shut and taking in the sensation. The pressure against his body, the softness of your skin, the cushion of the bed. 

"Okay," you declare, placing your palms on his chest and pushing your body up. "Let's go make breakfast." 

For a moment, you're sitting up on his lap with one thigh on either side of him. His chin is tucked down, and his eyes look up at you like he's a little fawn. His hands rest comfortably on your hips, encouraging you to rock back and forth a little. 

"Or," he suggests, "we could stay here a little longer?" He applies pressure to your hips, pushing you down into his own groin. 

Your eyes close instinctively and your head drops forward a little as you release a sigh. 

"That a yes?" he mumbles, his voice gruff. 

"Mhm," you reply with a nod. 

His right hand trails up to your neck, pulling your face down to his as he sits up, meeting you with a kiss. 

Comfort was not always a given at your home—but Eddie always knew just what to do to help you relax a little. 

-

The movie is nearing its end, so Steve stands up and heads to the back room to flick through the "Recent Returns" box. He still can fit in another movie or two before heading home to watch a movie from the private comfort of his own home rather than from behind a counter with Dustin.

Steve returns to the counter when he hears the bell above the door chime. He stops in his tracks when he sees a girl in the store—a pretty girl.

"Hi," she says, smiling shyly with her lips together.

Steve replies with a little wave of his fingers and a crooked smile. She takes the store in for a moment before turning to her left to flip through some tapes on a display shelf.

Steve's eyes follow her for a moment. He quickly ducks down to where Dustin is sitting, fully out of sight of anyone in the store.

"Who is that?" Steve whispers.

Dustin leans back, trying to view the mystery customer without having to get up. They must have gone behind one of the shelves, but he doesn't feel like looking much further. "I dont know." 

Dustin settles comfortably in his chair again, refocusing on the movie. He anticipates Steve taking a seat in the chair next to him so they can finish the movie together, but he's left hanging. He looks up and finds Steve's hands planted on the counter, his mouth slightly agape as he looks in the direction of where the customer went.

"Dude, you're staring," Dustin whispers, tugging on Steve's pant leg.

"Doesn't count if she's facing the other way," Steve quietly replies without looking away from her.

"It so counts," Dustin grumpily retorts.

She reappears from behind a display case and picks up a tape. She flips it over to read the back, and Steve catches a glimpse of her face again before she puts it back in its place. He's suddenly very aware of how messy his hair looks—and how crooked his name tag is.

Steve takes off his name tag and repins it, straight this time. He pops a mint from beneath the counter into his mouth and wipes his hands on his pants. 

"Steve, this is the fourth one today-"

"I'm just doing my job," Steve interrupts, giving Dustin a look. "She looks like she could use some assistance."

He stands up, planting his hands on the counter and flexing his biceps. "Anything I can help you find?"

She looks up at him. "Just looking around. Thanks, though." 

He smiles and nods once, relaxing his arms and glaring at Dustin when he stifles a laugh by pursing his lips. 

Dustin's eyes widen. Steve seems to take Dustin's laugh as a challenge, because before he can stop himself, he's heading to the back and bringing out a box of returned tapes. He sets them on the counter with a huff.

She hears the box drop on the counter and looks up, giving Steve a closed-mouth smile before going back to flicking through tapes on the shelf. 

"I've got a little trick," Steve says. 

She looks up, then behind herself to see who he's talking to. Nobody else is there.

"Me?" she asks, turning to face him. 

He nods and continues. "I always go through the recently returned pile if I'm not sure what I wanna watch. Regulars here rent the same few movies over and over again if they're really good."

She raises her eyebrows and turns her eyes up. "I guess that makes sense." 

Steve smiles, then looks back down at the box. It's silent for a moment, and his fingers tap the sides of the box as he tries to think of what to say.

"You find any good ones recently?" she asks, breaking the silence and catching Steve off guard.  

"Oh, yeah," Steve says. He excitedly looks down to dig through the box. He pulls out Fast Times at Ridgemont High. "Fast Times. It's rare that we have this one. It always flies off the shelf as soon as I restock it." He holds it up so she can read the tape. 

"It has boobs in it," Dustin chimes in from behind the counter. She looks at him and chuckles, noticing the kid for the first time and catching Steve's face turning pink. 

Steve tries to recover. "Uh, yes! It does have, um-"

"Boobs? In it?" she finishes, showing him some mercy with a grin. 

He lets out a sigh. "Yeah," he laughs, looking down.

"I've never seen it," she says. She puts her palm out for him to set the tape in. Her eyes look right at his, confidently. "I'll save you the effort of restocking it."

He grins, placing it in her hand. 

"You got an account with us?" he asks while stepping over to the register. 

She shakes her head. "No, I just moved here." 

He nods, grinning to himself. (At least he thinks it's to himself, but she can totally see it.)

"Can I get your name?" 

She tells him. He repeats it back to her. Not so much as a question—just quietly, as if he's trying it out to see how it feels coming out of his own mouth. He nods as he types it in. 

"And your address?" 

She tells him. It clearly takes a bit of thinking for her. He can tell that she's still not used to reciting that address as her own. 

He turns away from the computer, pulling out an old reciept and a pen. 

"And your number?" he looks up at her and flashes a coy smile. 

"For the account?" she asks knowingly. 

"For me," he answers. Dustin looks at Steve like he's Jesus.

And she tells him. 

"Probably good for me to meet someone around here," she chuckles. "Both of you," she adds, wanting to include the kid behind the counter. The kid smiles widely at her. 

Steve hands her the tape. "It's on me this time." 

She smiles and takes it from him. "Thank you." 

"Just make sure you bring it back on Thursday. That way I can get it back from you myself." 

She smiles at the floor. "Thursday. Got it."

"—And maybe if you come by right before we close, I can show you a good place to eat dinner?" He leans over the counter to softly add, "without the kid." 

She laughs and nods. "Yeah, okay." 

She gives the kid a smile. "Excited for the boobs," she jokes to him, holding up the tape with one hand and pointing to it with the other. He turns red and nods. 

"—And for dinner, Steve," she says, obviously reading his name tag. "'Til Thursday." She takes a step away from the counter. 

"'Til Thursday," he repeats back to her. 

She leaves the store, tape in hand. 

There's a moment of silence where both of the boys follow her out with their eyes. 

"How do you just... do that?" Dustin asks. 

Steve shakes out his hands, closing his eyes. "Lots and lots of practice." He looks at Dustin. "It has boobs in it?" he mocks. 

Dustin raises his shoulders and his hands. "It does!" 

-