Lizzie Munson just might be the one true love of your life.  

Not in a romantic sense, no, but still in that deep down, in your bones, you can’t shake it, you will protect her from anything you can kind of way.  The pride that swells within you as you look up at her on the stage, wearing her orange cap and gown, brings tears to your eyes.  

She might not be yours biologically, but she’s yours in every way that counts.  You were there when Eddie brought her home from the hospital, when she took her first steps, on her first day of kindergarten, when she got her driver’s license, and now as she graduates high school.  And it only took her one try.

You’re sitting in the front row next to Eddie and Uncle Wayne, your poster that reads, “Congrats Lizard!” waving in your hands.  Cameras are flashing, everyone is waving themselves with programs, and people are trying to pay attention to Principal Higgins, but it's hot as balls outside. 

It can't dampen your mood, though.  Your girl is about to take the podium and give her valedictorian speech.

Beside you, Eddie bounces his knee so hard it knocks against yours.  You grab his hand and give it a squeeze.

“Calm down, Munson, you’re making the whole row shake,” you whisper.

“I can’t help it, Sweets,” he mutters, eyes fixed on the stage, “My kid’s about to give a speech in front of like, a thousand people.”

You look around exaggeratedly, “There are maybe two hundred people here.”

“Feels like a thousand.”

You grin softly and smooth an invisible wrinkle from the sleeve of his black button-down. He’d complained about wearing it the entire drive over, tugging at the collar like it was strangling him.  He looked so handsome as you adjusted his tie before the two of you left your house, but now he looks terrified in it.  Not for himself.  For her.  The poor man.  And he’s not the only one you have to worry about.

On the other side of Eddie, Uncle Wayne sits stiff-backed in a suit jacket he only ever wears to funerals and weddings.  He’s sweating profusely in the May heat.  His rough hands are folded tightly in his lap, eyes glassy already.  The second the perfunctory announcements started, he’d gone suspiciously quiet.  

It’s a good thing you’re well trained in emotionally regulating the Munson men because you have a feeling you’re about to have to pat a couple of backs and wipe away a few tears.

Eddie goes stiff when Higgins steps back from the podium with a smile.

“And now, Hawkins High School Class of 2005’s valedictorian, Elizabeth Munson.”

The applause is thunderous.  You scream as loud as you can and wave your sign wildly.  Eddie sucks in a sharp breath beside you.  Wayne is stiff as a board.

Lizzie crosses the stage in gold cords with black combat boots peeking out beneath her gown. Eddie had already cried when she walked downstairs earlier that morning dressed for graduation.  Now, he’s crying because of the boots.

“Kid inherited my fashion sense,” he says proudly through tears.

You hand him a tissue and give his knee a squeeze.

Lizzie reaches the podium and adjusts the microphone.  For one horrible second, she looks nervous.  Then, her eyes find the three of you.

You.  Uncle Wayne.  Her dad.  And she smiles.

“Okay,” she says, voice echoing through the crowd and Eddie sniffles, “So statistically speaking, most valedictorian speeches are supposed to include inspirational quotes, metaphors about journeys, and at least one overused reference to the spreading of wings.”

A ripple of laughter moves through the crowd.  

“I didn’t really do any of that.”

Eddie huffs quietly beside you, “That’s my girl.”

“So instead,” Lizzie continues, “I figured I’d talk about the people who got me here.”

You can see her fingers tighten slightly around the edges of the podium.

“When people hear that I was raised by a single dad in a trailer park on the edge of Hawkins, they usually make assumptions about my life.”

The gym quiets, Eddie grabs your hand and interlaces your fingers.

“They think I grew up with less,” she says and makes sure her gaze roams over the entire crowd.

You see Eddie’s shoulders tense beside you.

“But I didn’t.”

Lizzie looks toward Eddie who is gripping you tightly.

“I grew up with a dad who worked himself to the bone every single day and still came home to help me study for spelling tests.”

Eddie ducks his head immediately, the tips of his ears going red.

“Who had someone teach him how to braid hair.”

There are some chuckles.  You think you can hear Dustin’s laugh in particular.

“Who sat through every choir concert, every science fair, every nightmare, every heartbreak.”

Your chest aches and Eddie leans his head against your shoulder. You can feel the tears soak through the sleeve of your shirt.

“And when he didn’t know how to fix something,” her voice softens and your vision goes misty, “he made sure I never had to face it alone.”

Eddie presses his fist against his mouth as if he can staunch his emotions.

Lizzie glances toward Wayne next.

“My Uncle Wayne taught me that love doesn’t have to be loud to be life-changing.”

Wayne’s eyes squeeze shut.  You reach across Eddie’s shoulders to give Wayne a pat.

“He taught me how to fish.  He taught me how to drive, after I almost gave my dad a heart attack.  He threatened a boy once for making me cry sophomore year.”

“That little asshole deserved it,” Wayne mutters under his breath, making you choke back a laugh.  Wayne’s right, the little asshole deserved it.

“And then there’s…” Lizzie pauses, looking directly at you now.

The entire room seems to disappear.  She says your name with an aching fondness.

“There’s the person who taught me what kindness looks like.”

Your breath catches and this time Eddie squeezes your hand.

“She’s been there for every important thing I can remember.  School pickups, birthday cakes, movie nights, panic attacks before exams, taking me prom dress shopping for the third time because I kept changing my mind.”

Eddie sneaks a peek at you quietly, a look akin to reverence on his face.

“When people asked if I missed having a mom growing up,” Lizzie smiles shakily and shrugs her shoulders, “the truth is, I never really felt like I did.”

Your eyes burn instantly.

Lizzie’s biological mother Rachel was never around.  She and Eddie were never even really in a relationship.  They were only casual hookups until one night the condom broke.   You can still remember how frantic Eddie was when he called you the night it happened.  You tried to reassure him that nothing was going to come of it and everything would be fine.  But you were wrong.

A few weeks later, Rachel called, told Eddie that she was pregnant, and that her parents were making her keep it.  Rachel’s parents were uber religious and there would be no talk of abortion.  Adoption was their preferred route.

In the beginning, Eddie agreed.  He didn’t think that as the resident freak of Hawkins, Indiana, who still had yet to graduate high school, he was fit to raise a child.  You remembered tearful conversations where you told him that you would support him no matter what he chose.  In the end, after much back and forth with Rachel’s parents and with the backing of you and Wayne, he chose Lizzie.  Rachel signed over her rights and she and her parents moved far from Hawkins, never to be seen again.

You were the only constant female influence in her life.  Eddie’s eternal best friend.  The girl who grew up in the trailer next door.  Sure, Claudia, Karen, and Joyce were around, and they helped out wherever they could.  There were also a few girlfriends who thought they had the wherewithal to handle a single father until they couldn’t.

But you were the one in the trenches with him.

When he made the final decision that he was going to keep Lizzie, the two of you made a plan.  He had to graduate, get a better job (AKA stop dealing), and he needed his own place.

The last one was a no-brainer.  You’d graduated the year before, and you lived in an apartment complex just down the way from Forest Hills.  Your current lease was up, and you told him you had no problem moving into a two bedroom with him.  The plus side was that the two of you would be close to Wayne.  After that, the other two things on the list eventually fell into place.

In the beginning, neither of you knew what you were getting yourselves into.  You didn’t know jack shit about babies, and neither did Eddie.  Together, the two of you learned how to make bottles, change diapers, burp, administer children’s Tylenol, go to work on 3 hours of sleep, and how to make a rinky dink apartment a home for an infant.

You and Eddie lived together until Lizzie was three, when he finally saved up enough money for a down payment on a house.  And even after you were no longer living together, you were still on Lizzie’s school pick up list, in her emergency contacts, and you went to her field trips and parent-teacher conferences when Eddie couldn’t.  

Thinking back on those rough first years and how Lizzie has become such a huge part of your life, tears well up along your waterline.  On stage, Lizzie’s own eyes glisten, but she keeps going.

“I got really lucky. I was raised by three people who chose me every single day.”

It’s completely silent now except for the soft fan of graduation programs and the occasional cough.

“And I think that’s what I want everyone graduating today to remember.”

She steadies herself with a breath.  Next to you, Eddie copies her.

“Family isn’t always the thing you’re born into.  Sometimes it’s the people who stay.  The people who show up.  The people who choose you every day.  The people who love you so loudly that eventually you learn how to love yourself the same way too.”

Beside you, Eddie is openly crying, shoulders shaking slightly as he laughs under his breath in embarrassment.  He wipes clumsily at his tears.

“Oh, this kiddo’s trying to kill me,” he whispers hoarsely.

Lizzie smiles one last time out at the crowd.

“So yeah, maybe I don’t have a quote about wings.”

A small grin spreads across her face.  It’s so much like her father’s.

“But thanks to my family, I never really needed them to fly.”

The gym erupts.  Everyone is on their feet instantly, applause crashing across the football field.

Wayne stands slowly, wiping aggressively at his eyes.  Eddie doesn’t even try to wipe at his tears anymore.  He’s crying and laughing helplessly as he claps.

“That’s my daughter,” he says, voice cracking completely, “Holy shit.”

You let go of his hand to wrap him in a hug, “You did good, Daddio.”

As the audience begins to settle, Lizzie gives one last shy smile and makes her way back to her seat as Vice Principal Clarke moves to the podium.

“Thank you so much for those touching words, Miss Munson,” he pauses like he can’t quite reconcile the fact that a Munson just gave a valedictorian speech, “Now, we will call each student up to receive their diplomas.”

Higgins goes to stand next to the table that holds the rolled certificates, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else, and you watch as student after student crosses the stage and takes their diploma.  Fortunately, Hawkins was a small school, so you didn’t have to wait long for Lizzie’s turn to come.

She stands and her head turns to you sharply, she wants you to notice.  You lock eyes and she gives you a half smirk and a wink.  And you know.  You know exactly what she’s going to do.

You shake your head at her, but you know she won’t be deterred.

“Oh no,” you whisper under your breath, but Eddie still hears you. 

“What?”

“She gave me the wink.” 

Lizzie saw the video of her father’s graduation at Eddie’s last birthday party when you’d gotten nostalgic and started pulling out every old picture and video you had.  She knew all about her father’s three tries at graduating, she knew that he used to be the local freak, but she didn’t think he’d actually done what everyone chuckled about when they mentioned that faraway May day in 1986.  Of course, after she was shown that clip of Eddie running up to Higgins, grabbing his diploma, and flipping him the bird, you had to show her the one of her Uncle Dustin doing the same thing in 1989.  After she saw them, she told you she was going to do it, too.  

If you were honest, you didn’t really believe her.  Like her dad, Lizzie had her own wild streak, but it was mostly relegated to dying her hair different colors with Kool Aid and having her best friend Cassie Eatherly pierce her nose with a needle and an ice cube.  Looks like Lizzie is proving you wrong.

Eddie turns to you fully, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Eddie, your child is on a stage with Principal Higgins on her graduation day.  What do you think I mean?”

“She wouldn’t.  Not my little Lizard.”

“Like I said, she’s your child.”

“Oh shit,” he mutters and Uncle Wayne turns to him sharply. 

“Eddie, please.  This is a serious occasion.”

“Then I seriously think you’re gonna want to close your eyes for this one, Wayne.”

It takes a second for the words to hit, but when they do, Uncle Wayne shakes his head.  He’d long ago given up on the notion that nothing could surprise him after basically raising Eddie by himself.  Now, he just tried to take everything in stride. 

“She wouldn’t.”

Right on cue, you hear the crowd try and fail to contain themselves as the curly-haired girl stops dead in front of Higgins, snatches the rolled up paper from his hands, flips him the most elegant middle finger you’ve ever seen, and sprints off stage into the crowd of her classmates.  

Eddie hangs his head, not because he’s embarrassed, but because he doesn’t want Wayne to see how proud he is.  Wayne almost had a coronary when Eddie did it at his own graduation.  Today, Wayne just shakes his head fondly.

You start laughing hysterically, “You, Dustin, and now Lizzie.  They’re never gonna let us come to another one of these.”

“You’ve got to stop encouraging them, Sweets,” Wayne says with another shake of his head.

“Oh no, sir.  All I did was show her a video.  There was no encouragement needed.  This was all Lizzie.”

With a barely contained smile, Vice Principal Clarke manages to get through the rest of the names, while Higgins stands on the stage with a mottled face, looking like a bull staring at a red flag.  You’d think that since it’s happened to him three times now, he’d be used to being flipped off.  He should probably start planning retirement..

After the ceremony ends, everything feels a little unreal.  You’re still on the emotional high of Lizzie’s accomplishment.  Even though you’ve always had every confidence in her, you still can’t quite believe it.  She did it.  Your girl did it.  And she was valedictorian.

The bleachers empty in noisy waves.  There are families shouting congratulations, balloons flying off into the air, teachers trying to organize photos as no one follows directions.  In the background, “Eye of the Tiger” crackles through terrible speakers.  You, Eddie, and Wayne go down to the grass to wait for your girl.

Lizzie disappeared almost immediately with her best friend Cassie into a swarm of classmates, and now the three of you are just waiting somewhat impatiently for her to appear.  You want to say a proper goodbye before you go back home to put the finishing touches on her graduation party.

Eddie keeps staring into the crowd after her like he can’t quite process that the tiny little girl who used to fall asleep on his chest during late-night horror movies is suddenly a graduate.  It’s a little bit adorable.

You touch his arm gently, “You okay?”

“No,” he says immediately, eyes still shiny, “I’m having a full existential crisis.”

“That seems a bit dramatic, even for you, Eds.”

“My daughter just gave the most emotionally devastating speech of all time in front of the entire town.”

You laugh softly and loop your arm through his, pulling him closer.

Then Eddie turns to you, and something shifts.  Not dramatically, and not all at once.  There’s just a stillness.

Because Lizzie’s words are still hanging there between you.

When people asked if I missed having a mom growing up…the truth is, I never really felt like I did.  You hadn’t expected her to say that.  Those words speak so much to the relationship you have with the two youngest Munsons.

You and Eddie have been best friends almost your entire life.  You lived next door to each other growing up, and you’d been inseparable ever since Lizzie’s namesake, Eddie’s mother, forced him to say hi to the girl playing by herself on the rusty playground in the middle of the trailer park.  You’d always only been just friends, even if you’d always known that you wanted more.  That you wanted him to be more than just your best friend.

But you have also been doing the growing-up-Lizzie thing together for eighteen years.  School lunches and scraped knees and parent-teacher conferences where teachers, who’d even taught the pair of you in high school, always looked at both of you like they were trying to figure out what was really going on in your relationship.  It was one of the reasons you never tried for more.  There was a kid, one you loved so, so much.  You weren’t going to risk her stability or your relationship with her father for something that might only be one-sided.

You nod, “She did.”

Wayne wanders off to find Claudia, Dustin, and Jane, leaving you and Eddie standing alone even in the middle of the crowded field.

Eddie rubs the back of his neck.

“She really meant that, you know.”

You look down, “I know.”

You don’t really know why you’re suddenly so shy with your best friend.  

“No, I mean it,” his voice softens, “You basically raised her with me.”

Emotion catches unexpectedly in your throat.  You joke to cover it., “Well somebody had to make sure she didn’t end up eating gas station food every night.”

“Airing out my dirty laundry after all these years?” Eddie says with a laugh, but his smile fades after a second, “She loves you a lot.”

Your chest tightens because you love her, too.  And her father.  More than you ever let yourself say out loud.

Before you can respond, there’s suddenly a blur of orange graduation gown flying toward you.  Lizzie crashes into you first.  You barely catch her and your sign before she wraps both arms around your neck.

“You cried,” she accuses immediately.

“You cried!” you say into her hair as you draw her in closer, “I’m so proud of you, kiddo,” 

“Even after that stunt I just pulled?” 

You pull back to look into her eyes that are so much like her dad’s and laugh loud enough that some of the others gathered around turn to look at the two of you, “Especially after that.  You’re just carrying on a sacred family tradition.”

“Give me back my child,” Eddie grumbles as he disentangles the two of you so he can pull Lizzie into a hug.

“Dad, I can’t breathe,” Lizzie giggles as Eddie picks her up and swings her around, their twin heads of dark curly hair flying carelessly.

He puts her down, but takes her by the shoulders, “I am so proud of you, Elizabeth Munson.”

She tilts her head down and she gets shy under her father’s praise, “Dad…”

“No, you’ve gotta listen.  That was the most  beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.  Had all of us crying like little babies.”

“I know,” she says, “I could see you all blubbering.  You almost cracked my unwavering composure.”

Eddie wraps an arm around your shoulders to tuck you in next to him and lean a cheek against the top of your head, “Sweets, was the only one blubbering.”

She looks between the two of you with an expression that instantly makes you suspicious, “Speaking of my speech…”  

With that smirk on her face, it’s uncanny how sometimes she looks exactly like Eddie.

“What is that face?” you ask slowly.

“Nothing.”

“Lizzie…”

She grins.

“You know everybody thinks you’re together, right?”

Eddie chokes and you nearly drop your sign.  You both unconsciously take a step away from each other.

“Excuse me?” you barely manage to eke out.

“I’m serious,” she says, “Like, literally everyone.”

“Oh my god,” Eddie mutters, covering his face, which is becoming an odd shade of red.

“I think some of my classmates found out for the first time today that you’re not actually my mother,” she looks at you pointedly, “At parent-teacher conferences and field trips and everything, they always assumed – ”

“We know,” you and Eddie say at the exact same time.

Lizzie beams, looking between the two of you.

“That was very ‘couple' of you.”

Eddie points at her threateningly, “Do not start.”

But she’s already backing away laughing, spotting Cassie across the field.

“I’m just saying!” she calls, “You’re fooling absolutely nobody!”

Then she disappears back into the crowd.

“Bye, I guess,” you say after her sarcastically once she’s gone.

Then, there’s silence.  Long, dangerous silence.

Eddie stares at the grass.  You stare at the stage.

Somewhere in the distance, Wayne is loudly arguing with another parent about the correct way to smoke brisket.

Finally Eddie laughs quietly under his breath, “You know the worst part?”

You glance at him carefully, “What?”

He looks at you then.  Really looks at you.  His gaze is soft, terrified, honest.

“For a second up there…” he swallows, “when she was giving that speech…”

Your heart starts pounding.

“I kinda wished we were.”

The world narrows instantly.

All the noise around you fades into dull static.

Eddie looks horrified with himself the second the words leave his mouth, like he wants to shove them back in.  And you can’t breathe because the truth is, you wished it too.  You have for a very long time.

And now that Lizzie has graduated high school, you think you’ve finally gathered the courage to tell him.  It’s probably just the emotional gravity of the day pulling you into its orbit, but you want to shout it from the rooftops and let everyone know that you’re in love with Eddie Munson.  It’s on the tip of your tongue, and he’s looking at you like he knows what you’re gearing up to say and he wants you to say it as badly as he wants to hear it.

“Eddie,” you begin.

You’re going to tell him and not chicken out this time.  Your lips are forming the words when…

“Eddie!  Sweets!  We’ve been looking all over for you!”

Dustin Henderson emerges from the dwindling crowd hand in hand with his wife Jane, walking toward you and Eddie like he’s on a mission.

“I think you have the coolest kid ever,” Dustin says as he drops Jane’s hand and pulls Eddie into a hug, completely oblivious to the situation he just walked into.  Eddie gives him a stiff pat on the back, but doesn’t break eye contact with you.

Jane, however, is not oblivious.  She clocks that the air is different as soon as she sees the two of you looking at each other.  Bless her, she tries to intervene.

“Dustin, we should go.  We need to pick up some things before the party,” she says as she takes his hand again and tries to gently lead him away.

“No we don’t.  We already have Lizzie’s card and gift.  All we have to do is change.”

“Dustin…”

“Eddie!  Sweets!”

You turn and see Steve Harrington and his wife Emma coming up behind Dustin with the two Buckley-Wheelers trailing behind.

Whatever courage you might’ve found is now gone.  You are not doing this with an audience.  Another one bites the dust.  You probably shouldn’t confess your love for your best friend right after his daughter’s graduation anyway.  Seems like the least great idea you’ve ever had when you think about it.  But at least now you have your friends around you as buffers to keep the conversation from getting too deep or too stilted.

Steve goes to join Dustin, Jane, and Eddie as the girls move to you.

“Our girl did so well!” Robin says as she holds out her arms.

Robin, Nancy, and Emma gather around and pull you into a hug that you return gratefully.  Eddie is your best friend, but those three women, plus Jane and Max, are your tribe.  In them, you had a wealth of knowledge to draw from when it came to almost any situation.  They’d been invaluable over the years in helping you with anything life could throw at you, be it a situation with Lizzie, a stupid fight with Eddie, your pitiful love life.

And speak of the devil.  It seems everyone in Hawkins wants to join your little post-graduation huddle.

You hear that specific voice call your name and you turn to see Mark Eatherly, Cassie’s dad, and the man who just so happens to be your former fiancé.  Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eddie frown.  You know he hates Mark.  He has from the start, although you’ve never been able to get a good reason, other than “I just don’t like him” out of him.

With an instinct bred from being friends with Eddie for years, Steve and Dustin shore up beside him.  It’s doubtful that Eddie is going to make a scene at his daughter’s graduation, especially with his daughter’s best friend’s dad, but emotions have been running high, and even almost two years post breakup, Eddie was still pretty pissed with how everything between you and Mark ended.

You’d met Mark at an eighth grade field trip to the zoo that you’d gone on in Eddie’s stead.  Eddie was busy at the mechanic shop, and he’d just taken over ownership, so there was no way he could get away.  Since Lizzie and Cassie were best friends, you spent the whole day with Mark being dragged around by two little teen dictators from exhibit to exhibit.  During your conversation, you learned that he was two years divorced from Cassie’s mother, and when he learned you were neither Eddie’s wife nor Lizzie’s mother, he asked you on a date.

One date became two, which became ten, and before you even really knew what was going on, Mark proposed.  In total, you were together almost two years before Mark broke it off.  

It was partly because of your inability to set a wedding date, and partly because he wasn’t super fond of how close you were with your best friend.  He was always going on and on about how Eddie was undermining his place in your life.  Mark wasn’t exactly wrong, but you’d told him several times that you were never giving up your relationship with Eddie.  

When he’d started making comments about you not needing to be so involved in Lizzie’s life because you weren’t her actual mother, and how you didn’t need to be a buffer against the real world for Eddie – that was the beginning of the end.  There were a few more months of hurtful words neither of you could take back, and then he gave you an ultimatum and you gave him your ring.   

You never did and never were going to love him like you love Eddie, and it wasn’t fair to either of you.  It took you a while to come to terms with the simple fact that you never should’ve said yes to Mark in the first place.  Despite the demise of your relationship, Lizzie and Cassie remained best friends.

Your girls line up beside you like tiny bodyguards, ready to protect you should Mark go off script.  They were also a line of second defense against Eddie should he be inclined to step in.

Mark holds his hands up as if in surrender, your friends looking like a firing squad, “I come in peace.”

“Eatherly,” Eddie mumbles from his group.

“Munson,”  Mark returns, then looks only at you, “I just came over to say hi and that Lizzie did an incredible job.  I know you must be extremely proud of her.”

“We are,” Eddie says for the both of you.

Mark nods, and you appreciate that at least he’s not egging Eddie on.

“I guess I’ll see you later when I drop Cassie off at the party?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you then.”

Mark nods at everyone and turns to walk away.  Thankfully, your group is smart enough to wait until he’s out of earshot to begin shit talking.

Eddie gives you a look asking if you’re okay, to which you reply with a nod.  Then, not missing a beat, your two clusters turn back to each other to dissect the exchange.

“Please don’t tell me that man is going to try and get you back,” are the first words out of Robin’s mouth.

“What about that five second interaction gave you the indication that he wants me back?”

“Are you serious?” her voice drops down to as much of a whisper as it can, “He never for one minute thought you were going to give him his ring back.  He was all swinging dick when he told you that you had to take a step back from Eddie, and I guess he thought you were gagging for it.  He took a pretty big hit to the ego when you didn’t even hesitate to rescind your yes.”

“That’s because I never should’ve given it to him to begin with.”

“I never liked him,” Emma states as the four of you shore up your group into a small circle.

“Never liked who?” Jane appears suddenly at your right, weasling her way in once she managed to get away from the boys.

“Mark,” Emma tells her.

Jane sticks out her tongue, “He is a stupid man.”

“I agree with you on that, Henderson,” Robin begins, “And as I was saying, I hope he’s not under the delusion that you’re going to take him back.”

“That’s never going to happen.  I don’t take kindly to ultimatums, nor am I ever going to not have the Munsons in my life.”

“It’d be even cooler if you were a Munson, too,” Nancy says under her breath, but everyone hears her and snickers.

“What are we giggling about over here?” comes a question to your left, and you all startle a bit.

The girls part a little to make room for Eddie.

“Girl stuff.  Periods and all that,” Emma says with a perfectly innocent grin.

“Sure,” Eddie tells her with a smile then looks to you, “I’m gonna head out.”  He pulls you into a hug and presses a kiss to your forehead, “I’ll be over at five to help finish setting up.  We’ll talk then, yeah?”

Nancy throws a smirk your way as if to say “see what I mean?”

You decide you’re not going to analyze his words until you’re in the safety of your car.

“I’ll see you then.”

“Ladies,” Eddie bows with a flourish and goes to find Wayne.

“We need to get going too, babe,” Steve says to Emma as he and Dustin saunter up to the group, “I’ve got to give the kids the big bad dad speech about not burning the house down while we’re out tonight.”

Steve never got the six little nuggets he’d talked about when you were all younger, but he and Emma had three, and that was plenty for them.  The couple were just getting to the point where they were letting their oldest, Lucy, babysit for extra money when they were going out or having a date night.

“Nance and I should head out as well, we’ve got to stop and pick up the cake at the bakery,” Robin tells them.

“Have you talked to Mike and Will?” you turn to Nancy and ask.

“Yes,” Nancy nods as the group starts walking toward the parking lot, “I saw them before they left.  My mom had been begging them to stop and see her while they’re in town, so they had to bail right after Lizzie’s speech, but they’ll be at her party tonight.  Jonathan, too.  He rode with the guys, so he had to leave with them.  He wanted me to tell you he wouldn’t forget his camera.”

Of the couple, Will was your favorite, not that you didn’t like Mike, but he was a little rough around the edges, and not in the Eddie-shaped way that you like.  Will was the sun to Mike’s thunder.  Will used to draw you detailed drawings of your bard back in the Hellfire days.  You still had all of them in a scrapbook.  

When you first met Mike, he wasn’t a fan, mainly because he didn’t understand your relationship with Eddie.  He didn’t comprehend that while you harbored a crush for the teenage rebel boy that he spotted from a mile away, you also genuinely liked Dungeons and Dragons, and you weren’t just joining them after school to make Eddie like you.  Eddie already liked you.  The poor metalhead had been trapped in your orbit, and you his, since the day you met.  Over the years, you and Mike bonded over your shared love of sarcasm, cleverly worded takedowns, and Will Byers.

Hardly any of you ever saw Jonathan anymore, other than Will, Mike, Jane, and Dustin.  He was living in New York having the time of his life making movies and being thoroughly happy to leave Hawkins in his rearview.  You, Eddie, and Lizzie had gone to see him a couple of times on vacation, but he loved to play the part of fun, somewhat mysterious uncle you only see on holidays.

When the group reaches the parking lot, you all take your turns saying your goodbyes.  Even though you’re going to see these people again in only a couple of hours, it’s so rare now that you all get to see each other together, in the same space.

Lucas and Max hadn’t even been able to attend the graduation because Max was seven months pregnant and while she loved Lizzie almost as much as you did, there was no way she was sitting in the blaring sun during the mid-May heatwave Hawkins was currently experiencing.  She’d called you that morning in tears because of the hormones, apologizing profusely.  Of course you’d told her not to worry about it.  Lizzie knew that the Sinclairs loved her, and there would be plenty of time for them to tell her that at the party.

The last hugs and handshakes are traded off and you get in your vehicles to venture toward your next destinations.  You should be using the drive time to make an attack plan for setting everything up, but you don’t.  Instead, your thoughts are tangled up in Eddie like they almost always are.

We’ll talk then, yeah?

Something almost happened in that moment right after Lizzie left.  You almost had both legs in your big girl panties.  You almost told him.  And he seemed to be waiting for it.  But yet again, something stopped you.  You didn’t want to claim that it was fate or anything like that, but you were going to have to get your fucking self together.

There were going to be roughly ninety uninterrupted minutes where you would have Eddie alone at your house where the two of you would be setting up for the party.  You needed to get that other leg in those panties and pull them up. 

Because the two of you were supposed to talk.

You get home, showered, and changed in record time.  You have the bigger backyard, so you told Eddie you’d have Lizzie’s graduation party at your house.  And even with other things on your mind, everything has to be perfect.  

So unfortunately, you’ve whipped yourself into a frenzy.  Eddie dropped the ‘I kinda wished we were’ line on you and there you were poised to bare your heart on a football field where the two of you used to sneak off to get high under the bleachers.  Now, you’re waiting for him to show up so you could decorate your backyard for his kid’s graduation party.  And quite possibly tell him you love him.

You’re staring at the clock on your microwave as it inches toward five o’clock.  At 5:01 you hear your front door open and the tell tale sound of boots on the wooden floor of your living room.  Your chest seizes for a second, because it’s showtime, then you hear the sound of a second pair of boots.

“Honey, we’re home!” Eddie exclaims as he and Lizzie come through the entryway from the living room into the kitchen.

The dual feelings of both relief and disappointment flood you simultaneously.  The thought crosses your mind that maybe Eddie brought Lizzie on purpose to be a buffer   Had you read his looks wrong?  Did he have a chance to think about what he said and realize that he didn’t mean it?

“When I got home, this weird little girl was there, and she started following me around saying she knew you.  She insisted she come help set up,” Eddie says when he sees your face and he looks at you pointedly, “I told her she didn’t need to set up her own party, but she refused to see reason.”

You let out an internal sigh of relief knowing at least that Eddie wasn’t trying to renege on the talk.  His daughter is just as bullheaded as he is, and if she decided she was coming over, there really was no stopping her.

Wrapping an arm around Lizzie’s shoulders, you pull her to you, “Well, weird little girl, I guess I’m putting you to work.  You can help your dad hang lights while I start on the food.”

Everyone quickly gets to work, Eddie throwing you a shoulder shrug as he grabs the lights you’ve left on the kitchen table.  Everyone and their brother seem to be intent on keeping you from talking to this man today.

Not that it matters anyway, because Wayne shows up only fifteen minutes later and you set up a station for him to inflate balloons.  Then, surprise of all surprises, Jonathan shows up a half hour early to get his camera ready.

“Jonathan Byers, you’re an angel,” you tell him and get a shy smile in return, “Who would’ve thought eighteen years ago, that I’d have a famous movie director as a friend and I’d be able to twist his arm into filming a graduation party?”

“Only semi-famous, Sweets, and I wouldn’t miss it for the world.  As the only two members of the Class of ‘84 and ‘85 Photography Club, I feel we are obligated to stick together.”

You’re no photographer, but you’d joined the Photography Club your junior year mainly because you thought it would look good on your college transcripts.  You never would’ve imagined that it would spawn a lifelong friendship with the shy and solemn older brother of Will Byers.  You’d spent countless nights sharing a joint with Jonathan while both commiserating about the two people (Nancy and Eddie) that you longed for with all your maudlin teenage hearts.

Robin and Nancy always voiced their suspicions that your feelings for Eddie ran deeper than just friendship, but Jonathan was the only person who knew.

Of course, Jonathan got over Nancy rather quickly after he moved to New York for film school.  You, on the other hand, still carried a torch as bright as ever for your dear metalhead. 

“I’m going to go around and get some establishing shots.  Let me know if there’s anything in particular you want me to get.”

“Will do.”

The rest of the set up goes smoothly, and soon people are filtering in.  Dustin and Jane are first, Dustin joining Eddie over where he’s trying to light the grill, leaving you and Jane idly chatting, waiting for the others.  

Some neighbors and co-workers of both you and Eddie join, most of them only stopping by to drop off a gift or card.  Claudia comes briefly to drop off a gift.  Robin and Nancy set up the cake when they arrive, then join you and Jane.  Max waddles in, followed closely by Lucas, Steve, and Emma.  Everyone coos over Max while she loudly exclaims that if anyone touches her belly they’re going to die.  Mike and Will are accompanied by Karen.  They’re followed in by Joyce and Hopper. Eddie and Dustin join the group after they’ve filled a picnic table with nothing but meat.

Karen, Joyce, and Hopper reminisce over all of the graduations they’ve been to.  Mike and Will share news about California.  Robin and Nancy tell you that you simply have to see them in Massachusetts.  Emma and Max talk about all things baby.  Steve finally succeeds in getting Eddie to play cornhole with him against Dustin and Jane.

All the while, your girl is in the center of all of it, flitting between groups of people and conversations.  Her personality shines brightest when she’s around her people. Jonathan takes the opportunity to get some good footage of Lizzie in her natural habitat and of the guests telling stories about Lizzie growing up.

You’re at the dessert table, grabbing one of the cupcakes Karen brought, watching Lizzie make fun of her dad and Steve’s horrible cornhole technique when you hear her squeal and turn to see Cassie and Mark coming around the side of the house.  The girls embrace and jump up and down like they didn’t just see each other a few hours ago.

“Sorry we’re late,” Mark begins once he’s made his way to you and he grabs a cupcake, “Cassie’s mom and I took her out for dinner and it ran a little long,” 

“How the girls managed to survive is beyond me,” you tell him with a laugh as Lizzie drags Cassie over to watch the now heated cornhole match.

This is the point where you hope Mark will simply say goodbye, and make his merry way home, but as he fidgets with the wrapper, your hopes are dashed.

“What have you been up to lately?” 

Unfortunately, your squad is occupied and there’s no one to rescue you just yet.

“Same old, same old.  The bookstore keeps me pretty busy.  I’m probably going to have to hire two people to take over for Lizzie when she finally moves away for college.”

“I saw a new car in the driveway,” he says as he gestures toward the front of your house with his head, “I guess you finally had to replace the Camry?”

You don’t really like that Mark wants to bring up old relationship talk with you.  He’d been trying to get you to buy a new car since you’d started dating.  But you didn’t need a new freaking car, Eddie kept your old Camry running just fine.  The only reason you have a new car is because you gave your old one to Lizzie as a graduation present.

“The Camry is still kicking,” you inform him, “It’s actually Lizzie’s now.”

“Oh.”

The conversation between the two of you is mostly Mark trying to engage you in any way he can think of, but every laugh is forced and all you want to do is scurry away to anywhere else.  You keep trying to catch the eyes of any of your friends, but everyone is occupied.

All you can think is that it’s going to be a long night.

You’ve been talking to Mark for almost thirty minutes, Eddie knows because he clocked it as soon as Mark walked into your backyard.  He can’t even concentrate on the stupid cornhole game because all he really wants to do is go over there and bodily move Mark away from you.  Lizzie dragged Cassie off to god knows where saying that she couldn’t watch her dad lose so pathetically anymore.

He thought he’d seen the last of the man when you gave him back your ring, but Mark was like fucking herpes, always popping up when you least expected.  

Eddie is concentrating so hard on trying to read your lips, he doesn’t even hear Steve coming and he jumps when Steve slaps him on the back.

“I always thought you and Sweets would end up together,” Steve says as he follows Eddie’s line of sight and looks over at where Mark is still standing next to you.

“What makes you say that?” Eddie asks as if he’s fooling anyone.

“I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

“What way, praytell, do I look at her?”

“Like she hung the fucking moon.  It’s the same way I look at Emma.”

Eddie wants to have a snappy comeback, but he doesn't.  Steve’s right.  He does look at you like you hung the fucking moon, because to him, you did.  You are his best friend, his partner in crime, you helped him raise his goddamn daughter.  Everything good in his life exists because of you.  Other than the birthing part, even Lizzie.

You were the one who told him he could do it, be a real father, when he told you that he didn’t want to give his baby up for adoption.  You were honest with him.  You didn’t mince words, you told him it was going to be hard as hell, but that if he stuck with it, it would all be worth it.  And it fucking was.

There were no two people he loved in this world more than you and his daughter.  But he definitely loved you differently than he loved Lizzie.

Eddie had been in love with you most of his goddamn life.  

When the two of you were seven, you got “married” out near the creek that runs behind the trailer park – he had streaks of mud across his face and holes in the knees of his jeans, you had a crown of daisies atop your head.  You’d proposed to him with a Ring Pop and told him you wanted to be his best friend forever.  He’d said yes immediately.  The two of you promised each other you’d be together for eternity, and then you celebrated by passing the candy back and forth until it disappeared.  He didn’t tell you he loved you then.

The two of you shared your first and only kiss playing spin the bottle at Erin Carmichael’s thirteenth birthday party.  When the empty soda bottle he spun landed directly on you, he’d been so nervous he thought he was going to puke and you’d blushed so prettily he also thought he was going to die.  In front of the entire seventh grade class of Hawkins Middle School, he kissed you square on the lips and while everyone else “oohed” and “ahhed,” you’d stared at him with a look in your eye that was so much older than thirteen.  He felt like he’d died and gone to heaven.  He didn’t tell you he loved you then.

You were his date to all of his senior proms, and on the third one, when he was once again wearing one of Wayne’s old suits and you were wearing a sparkly dress, dancing under a disco ball to “Heaven” by Bryan Adams, he almost told you he loved you.  You had your arms around his shoulders with your head tucked under his chin.  You were wearing some fruity-smelling perfume that made him lightheaded in the best way.  His mind had been clouded with thoughts of Rachel and the baby and what he was going to do, but in that moment, you were the only thing he could think of.  He didn’t tell you he loved you then.

There was that moment just hours ago, right after Lizzie’s graduation, he felt that familiar tension between the two of you.  You had that soft look on your face you only ever had with him.  He’d been so sure you were going to say something.  He could see the emotion swirling in your eyes, although he could’ve been fooling himself and it was only the leftover sentimentality of Lizzie’s speech.  He told himself that he was giving you thirty seconds, and if you didn’t say anything, he was going to.  It was right there in the back of his throat, ready for any acknowledgment on your part, then Dustin came rushing over and killed the mood.  He didn’t tell you he loved you then.

He could never understand why he just couldn’t fucking tell you that he loved you.

Eddie’s reminiscing is cut short when Dustin, again, walks over and pats him on the back, “What are we talking about gentlemen?”

“About how Eddie loves Sweets,” Steve supplies with no preamble.

“Yeah, that’s not news.”

The casual way that Dustin says it gives Eddie pause, “What do you mean?”

“Eddie, a blind man could see that you love her.  And she’s crazy about you, too.  You both need to get your heads out of your goddamn asses already.  I’m frankly a little sick of watching you two pine after each other.”

Eddie scoffs, even as heat crawls up the back of his neck, “Jesus Christ Henderson, subtle as always.”

Steve chuckles.

“I’m serious,” Dustin begins, “you look at her like the lead actor in a rom-com.  I might start calling you Matthew McConaughey.”

Steve snorts into his beer, “That’s weirdly specific.”

“Jane’s been on a McConaughey kick,” he says to Steve before he turns back to Eddie, “You know what I mean.”  Dustin points between Eddie and where you stand, still talking to fucking Mark, “Look at you right now.”

You’re laughing at something Mark says, but it doesn’t reach your eyes, and still Eddie feels a little queasy.  You have your head tipped back and the lights he and Lizzie put up only a couple of hours ago cast you in a soft multi-colored glow.  Mark drops his head toward you and says something else to which you lightly shove his shoulder.

Jealousy twists sharp in his stomach.  Partly because Mark is touching you.  Mostly because Mark almost had you.  And it looks like he’s trying all over again.

There was a point where Eddie thought you were really going to do it – leave him and really be with Mark.  It was the night Mark proposed.  You’d come over after, and you were sitting on Eddie’s couch.  Your eyes were shining, you were twisting that god awful ring around your finger.  Lizzie was upstairs asleep, and the two of you were alone when you told him.  

And Eddie just smiled.  He smiled so hard his face hurt.  Then he congratulated you with a bitter taste on his tongue.  After you left, he got drunk alone in the kitchen and stared at the wall wondering if that heavy feeling in his gut was what missing his chance felt like.

“You’re doing it again,” Steve says with a nudge to Eddie’s arm.

“I’m not staring,” he mutters.

“You’re not,” Dustin corrects, “You’re yearning.”

“Shut up.”

“Seriously man,” Steve says quieter, not teasing like before, “What exactly are you waiting for?  Lizzie’s graduated, and she’s going off to college.  You have a house, a business, you’re not the freak of Hawkins anymore.  You never really were.”

Eddie opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.  Because the truth is a little pathetic.  He’s waiting for a sign.  Some kind of permission.  Some sort of undeniable proof that telling you how he feels won’t ruin everything the two of you have built.  That he won’t ruin it.

You are woven into every part of his life.  Your threads make up most of the beautiful tapestry that is his world.

And it’s not just about Lizzie.  

You know how he likes his coffee.  You know where he keeps the extra sheets.  You know when his shoulder hurts because he slept wrong because he’s getting fucking old.  You know Wayne’s medication schedule because Eddie hates to admit that Wayne’s getting old, too.

If he says something, and it goes bad, if he finally tells you and you look at him with pity instead of love, he’d lose one of the most important people in his life.

His eyes drift to you again.  This time you’re not looking at Mark.  You’re looking at him.  Even from across the yard, he knows that expression instantly.  There’s softness, fondness, maybe longing.  It hits him square in the chest.

Dustin notices it too, because he groans dramatically, “Oh my god, just kiss her already.  Put us all out of our misery.”

Steve laughs so hard he nearly chokes on his drink.  Eddie flips Dustin off without looking away from you.

‘You’re a little asshole, you know that?”

“At least I’m married to the woman I’m hopelessly in love with.”

“He’s got you there, Munson,” Steve agrees.

Before Eddie can rattle off another excuse as to why he needs to keep his mouth shut for all eternity, your back screen door slams open.

“Daddio!” Lizzie screeches and comes jogging out of your kitchen with Cassie trailing behind her, but veering off to the dessert table where you’re still standing with Mark.

“Leaving so soon?” Eddie asks his daughter.

“I’m heading out with Cassie.  I’m gonna spend the night with her.”

Eddie nods and throws an arm around her shoulders, “I know you’re all grown up now, but could you call me and let me know when you two get home.”

Lizzie gives him an indulgent smile, “Of course.  And don’t worry Daddio, we’re not going to do anything stupid.  There’s a bonfire out at Lover's Lake, then me and Cassie are going to her mom’s house.”

“Do you have everything?  Clothes?  Toothbrush?  Bail money?”

“Dad…”

“If I call Cassie’s house later tonight, are you going to be able to answer the phone?”  Eddie trusts his daughter, she’s a good kid, but he also wants to know that she’s made it safely home.

“If I call Sweets' house later tonight, are you going to be able to answer the phone?” she counters, and both Steve and Dustin snicker.

Eddie narrows his eyes and decides to ignore her comment.  He doesn’t have the brain power to verbally spar with his daughter right now, “Ok, just be careful, and call me if you need anything, and I mean anything.”

“You know I will,” she tells him with a wink and then looks over to you, “I’m gonna go say bye to Sweets.”

For the second time that day, Lizzie Munson comes barreling toward you out of nowhere, but you’re especially thankful for it right now.  Mark won’t stop talking to you, and not even Cassie trying to say goodbye has been able to distract him.

“Sweets!”

“Lizard!”

She grabs your hand, “Can I steal you for a second?”

“Sure thing,” you say, grateful to have a second alone with Lizzie, away from Mark’s banal conversation.

She pulls you far enough away so the two of you can talk without anyone listening.

“There she is,” you tease softly, fixing the mess of necklaces hanging around her throat.  Rings are her father’s thing.  Necklaces are hers.

Lizzie smiles, but it seems a little nervous around the edges.

“What’s wrong?” you ask immediately.

“Nothing’s wrong.  I just wanted to say goodbye before Cassie kidnaps me for the rest of the night.”

“You’ll call me if you need bail, right?”

She snorts, “Do you and my dad share a brain cell?”

“I think one is a generous number.”

Lizzie laughs and goes quiet again.

“What is it, honey?”

For a second, she just looks at you.  It’s not casual, it’s not distracted.  She really looks.  She’s so much like Eddie it almost knocks the breath out of you.

“I need you to know something,” she says softly.

“Okay.”

“You are family to me.”

Emotion climbs up your throat so fast it almost burns.

“Lizard…”

“No, let me finish before I chicken out,” she points at you the way you point at her when you tell her something she really needs to listen to, “I mean it.  You’re not like my family.  You are my family.”

For probably the hundredth time that day, your eyes begin to sting.

Lizzie swallows hard before continuing, “And I know you worry about changing things with my dad.”

Your stomach drops, “Lizzie…”

“I’m serious,” she says with a gentle voice, “I know you both think you’re hiding it, but you’re really, really not.”

Heat floods your face.  You’ve been called out by a teenager.  Again.

“Oh my god.”

She grabs both of your hands, “My dad has been in love with you literally my entire life.”

All you can do is stare at her, speechless.

“And you love him, too.”

You open your mouth to deny it, but nothing comes out.  What’s the point?  Lizzie knows.  Everyone probably knows.

Your eyes drift over to where Eddie is standing with Steve and Dustin.  His hair is falling into his face from laughing at something.  Your heart does that stupid little thing it always does when you catch him like that, so lighthearted and carefree.  Lizzie squeezes your hands tighter.

“I know that you had Mark, and he was okay, I guess.  But the best thing about him is Cassie.  And I’ve never seen him look at you the way my dad looks at you.  You don’t have to be scared anymore,” she tells you quietly.

And that nearly undoes you.  Because you are scared.  Scared of losing him.  Scared of ruining the best thing in your life.

“I just…” your voice cracks, “you and your dad mean everything to me.”

Lizzie smiles, and she looks so much like Eddie you could cry.

“Sweets,” she begins gently, “you’ve been in love with each other for years.  I knew it as soon as I had cognitive reasoning skills.  You two are just the last to formally acknowledge it.”

A watery laugh escapes you.  Lizzie steps forward and wraps her arms around you.

“You deserve each other,” she whispers into your hair.

You hold her tight and press a kiss to her forehead, “That sounds ominous.”

She laughs, but it’s edged with tears, “You’re going to make me cry off all of my makeup.”

“Too late for that, kiddo.”

She pulls back, grinning playfully.  Then, because she is Eddie Munson’s daughter, she tilts her head toward where her father is still standing with Steve and Dustin and says, “For the record, if you don’t kiss my dad soon, I think Steve and Dustin might actually explode from frustration.”

You burst out laughing, “Noted.”

“Good,” Lizzie says as you release each other, “Alright, I’m leaving before you get all weird and emotional on me again.”

“You started it!”

“Yeah, well someone had to,” she says with a shrug.

Lizzie skips away to grab Cassie and the two of them round the front of the house, off to adventures unknown.

Now, there’s a weight sitting in your gut that you can’t do anything with just yet.  All it can do is grow heavier until you can finally get Eddie alone.

You look over to the dessert table where Mark is still standing, but you’re sure as hell not going back over there.  Your patience with his particular line of conversation has run too thin.  You spot Wayne out of the corner of your eye, throwing away empty plates left lying around and decide to join him.

“Don’t worry about the trash, Uncle Wayne.  That’s what I have Eddie for,” you tell him as you slide a hand along his shoulder.

“Just doing my part, darling.”

“You did your part a long time ago.  That was raising my best friend.”

He gives you a smile and leans into your grip.

“What would that boy do without you?”

“Live off of Chef Boyardee and forget when his light bill is due,” you tell him with a chuckle.

“Did Lizzie set you straight?” he asks as he ambles toward the back porch door.

Everyone really does fucking know, you think to yourself as the two of you walk into the kitchen where Wayne has left his jacket hanging on one of your chairs.

You nod as he slides into the well-worn piece of clothing, “Yes sir, she did.”

“Then I guess I don’t have to say anything else.”

“No sir.”

Wayne pulls you into a bear hug and when he steps back, he studies you a bit.

“Well, I guess I do have a little bit to say.”

You don’t know what it is about those words that makes you a little nervous.

“Go on.”

“Al Munson was a dumb motherfucker,” Wayne begins, and you would laugh at Wayne’s language if he wasn’t so right and so serious, “He had everything a man could want.  He had Elizabeth, then he had Eddie.  But he fucked it all up.”

You take a deep breath.  You never really met the man, but you know that Wayne hates Eddie’s father with a passion.  And by extension, so do you.  He was a horrible husband and a horrible father.  He didn’t deserve Elizabeth or Eddie.

“Unfortunately, Al had that boy long enough to put a lot of nonsense in his head.  A lot of stuff that Al hated about himself that he pushed off on Eddie.  Told him he was no good, that he would never amount to anything, that he was trash.”

Wayne takes your hands in his own.  They are warm and his palms are calloused from years of work at the plant.  They are working man’s hands.  Hands that worked hard to give Eddie a home and a family.  Wayne is just as much Eddie’s father as you are Lizzie’s mother.  

You sometimes think it’s that truth that binds you and Wayne so closely.  You both know what it’s like to love a child so fiercely even when you had no hand in their making.

“Eddie is going to try and convince himself that he’s not good enough for you.  He’s going to tell himself that you can do better.”

“But I can’t,” you shake your head vigorously.

“I know that, darling, but that sonofabitch that was his father put those thoughts in his head, and it doesn’t matter what Eddie accomplishes, or how good he’s got it going, he always thinks he doesn’t deserve it.  He feels like an impostor in his own life.”

Wayne squeezes your hand tightly, not to the point of pain, but enough that you know he’s serious, “Don’t let Al win.  No matter what my boy does, no matter what he says.  Don’t let that man hurt my boy more than he already has.”

You give him a nod, not sure if you can speak yet.

“I know you can do it, Sweets.  I’ve been witness to the love you have for both of those knuckleheads.  Just please tell me that you won’t give up.”

You swallow, your throat thick with love for this man who loves Eddie and Lizzie so much, “I won’t give up, Wayne.”

He lets your hands go and pats you affectionately on the cheek, “I know you won’t.  Don’t let him give up either.”

You smile and together the two of you walk out to Wayne’s truck, your arms loaded down with leftovers for him to take home.  After you have everything stowed away, Wayne gets in and gives you a single wave goodbye.  He tells you to say goodbye to Eddie for him, and he’ll call him in the morning.  Wayne has said he piece, and he’s a man who says what he means to say and lets it lie.

You wave right back as he drives off, leaving you both lighter and heavier.

Between Lizzie and Wayne, your mind is spiraling a little.  There are so many expectations, including your own.  And you can’t even seem to get your best friend alone for more than a couple of minutes so you can tell him that you fucking love him.

When you make your way to your back yard, you see that everyone has taken Wayne’s exit as a sign to start putting everything away.  You can see Jane and Max through the kitchen window and decide to see if they need any help.  Unfortunately, you don’t notice until it’s too late that Mark is in there, too.

His presence would be less annoying if he hadn’t spent the last hour hovering around you and if you weren’t so desperate to have Eddie and your house to yourself.

You go to grab some discarded napkins when Mark leans on the counter beside you.

“You really did all this by yourself?” he asks, gesturing with his hand.

“With help,” is your vague reply.

You’d planned most of it, but as always, the whole gang pitched in.

“You always were good at this kinda thing.”

Before you can respond, you see your saving grace from the corner of your eye in the form of a heavily pregnant redhead.

“Hey,” she begins talking to you, completely ignoring Mark, “do you still have ice cream?”

It’s a random ass question, but you decide to go with it.  Plus she is pregnant and probably really wants ice cream, “Yeah, but if you eat all of the chocolate we’re going to have a Battle Royale at the fire pit.  Pregnant or not.”

“Fair enough,” she goes toward the fridge, but stops and turns to Mark, “You’re still here?”

“Max,” you fake warn.

“What?” she asks innocently.

“It’s nice to see you too, Mayfield.”

She holds up her left hand, shiny with a diamond ring, “It’s Sinclair.  I’m married.”

That’s when Jane takes it upon herself to interject as well, dragging over her trash bag to stand next to Max, “I think she means the party is ending.”

Mark blinks at her, and as she is wont to do, Jane just stares back, completely expressionless.  Max coughs to hide a smile.  Unfortunately, Mark notices.

“Have you two always been this hostile?”

“Yes,” is Max’s instant reply.

“Especially when people overstay,” Jane adds.  She starts putting more trash in the bags.

You pinch the bridge of your nose to hide your grin, “Come on everyone…”

Mark straightens and tells the girls, “I’m just talking to her.”

He never got along with Max and Jane.  They always made him bristly.  He thought they were too headstrong.  And they are too headstrong.  That’s why you like them.

“And you’ve been ‘just talking to her’ for like an hour,” Max tells him.

“And she keeps trying to walk away,” Jane points out.

Mark scoffs quietly, “Okay, I guess I can take a hint.”

“Please take it far away,” Max replies.

She goes to the fridge and pretends to start looking for ice cream.  Jane continues to stuff things in the garbage bags.

“See you later,” he tells you as he pulls his keys from his jacket pocket.

“Hopefully not,” Max says under her breath.

Mark still hears, but chooses not to reply.

“Yeah,” you tell him noncommittally.

Mark nods his head and makes a hasty retreat.  You sigh in relief at seeing him go.  The girls immediately drop their pretense.

“Finally!” Max exclaims.

“I agree,” starts Jane, “I never really liked that man.”

“Thanks for the assist,” you tell them as you go to take the bag from Jane, “Why don’t you two go outside.  I’m going to start the dishwasher, and I’ll be right out.”

They both nod and Max quickly grabs a pint and a spoon, she always knew where the fucking ice cream was.

You take a second to center yourself as you load the final utensils in the dishwasher and get it running.  As much as you’re dying to talk to Eddie, you also want to be present for your friends.  It’s few and far between when you’re all together like this and you want to be able to actually enjoy them.

When you finally head outside, they’re all gathered around the fire pit.  The people who stayed.  Your family.

Steve is in the adirondack chair he always claims as his own, Emma tucked securely between his legs, a hand dragging lazily through her hair.  Robin and Nancy share a blanket, their knees  pressed together as Nancy is absentmindedly tracing patterns on Robin’s wrist.  Jonathan sits a little apart from them on his own blanket.  He’s quite content with his camera still attached to his face and a beer nearby.  Will and Mike are shoulder to shoulder in their own two-person chair, speaking in low voices to one another.  Lucas and Max are stretched out next to them, Max’s head in Lucas’s lap as he recounts a story to Dustin and gently rubs her belly.  Dustin and Jane are crosslegged next to Eddie, Dustin listening intently to Lucas as Jane leans her head against Dustin’s shoulder.

Eddie looks up as you get nearer, “Wayne leave?”

“Yeah, he said he would call you in the morning.”

Eddie pats the spot next to him, “Been saving it for you, Sweets.”

You sit down right where you belong.  Right now, it’s easy to just be present with Eddie, surrounded by your friends.  There are no butterflies, just the warmth of the fire and easy conversation.

“Remember when Henderson tried to convince us that he found a new species of lizard?” Steve asks with a smirk as you sit down.

Dustin scoffs immediately, “Okay, first of all – “

“You did,” Max cuts in so sharply Lucas startles.

“I had a theory.”

“A nonsense theory, “ Nancy adds.

Everyone laughs, even Jonathan, who takes a sip of his beer then lets his camera trace over all your faces.

“It was almost groundbreaking,” Dustin insists, “If any of you had even the most basic grasp on science – “

“You wanted to call it a demogorgon,” Steve interrupts, “How did you even come up with a name like that?”

“The origins of the word begin circa 350 A.D. – “

“Let me cut you off there.”

“You’ve been cutting me off all night,” Dustin argues.

The laughter and conversation roll around the fire.  There are years of stories and inside jokes.  There’s never a dull moment amongst your people.  It’s easy and familiar and much needed.

You glance over at Eddie without meaning to.  He’s already looking at you, and now you can’t seem to look away.  Your gaze is probably lingering too long, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

You’re knocked out of your trance by Robin’s voice, “Hey Sweets.”

She gets up like she’s going to get something.

“How can I help you?”

“May I interest you in a stroll to the cooler?”

You know, and so does everyone else, because Robin is the antithesis of subtle, that she has something she wants to talk to you about.  Nancy smirks at you because she already knows what Robin is about to spill.

Despite how obvious the two of you are being, you get up and follow her the three steps to the cooler.

“So,” she begins and lowers her voice just slightly, “what was this I saw at the dessert table earlier?”

You cross your arms and narrow your eyes at her, “Was it me eating my fourth cupcake?”

She simply tilts her head at you, “Mark.”

Your stomach drops a little and you see Eddie’s back go straight.  He’s definitely trying to listen.  So is everyone else.  The volume of their conversation has dropped dramatically.

“What about Mark?”

“I saw the two of you getting cozy by the dessert table.”

“Oh my god, Robin, no we were not.  He was just making conversation, asking how I was and all that jazz.”

“That’s not what I saw,” she sing-songs.

“I don’t know what you think you saw,” you say as you rub your forehead, “but there was nothing untoward going on.  We’re at Lizzie’s graduation party for chrissakes.”

“Well, you may think nothing is going on, but I saw the way he looked at you.  He wants you back.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eddie’s jaw clench, and even though you hate everything about the conversation you are currently having, you have a fleeting thought about how hot it is.

“First of all, you’re wrong,” you tell your friend, “Second, even if he did want me back, I’m not interested.  Third, why do you even care?  You hate Mark.”

Eddie seems to relax a little, and you see Steve glance over at him.  Steve gives him a look that you can’t decipher, and Eddie seems to ignore him.  Then, Dustin notices Steve giving a look to Eddie which makes Dustin give a look to them both, and you’re thoroughly lost.

“You’re not interested in the hot, single dad who practically worships the ground that you walk on?” Robin asks.

“Lower your voice, and I’m not interested in Mark.”

She does what you ask, but it doesn’t make her next statement any less devastating, “So it’s just not that hot, single dad you’re interested in?”

“Robin, honey, I love you, but could we please stop talking about fucking Mark?  Grab a drink so we can at least pretend we were having a normal conversation, and let’s go sit down with our friends.”

She reaches down and in the most exaggerated way possible, grabs a water from the cooler, making sure to flick you with the condensation from the bottle, “Aye, aye, captain.”

Robin sits back down with Nancy, a big smile on her face like she accomplished something, and you plop yourself down next to Eddie.

“So what were you and Buckley talking about?”

Usually, you appreciate when Eddie gets right to the point.  You’re not quite sure if you feel that way in this particular moment, but you still decide to just tell him, “She’s being a menace as always.  Bringing up ancient history.”

“Such as?”

“She asked about Mark.”  Might as well get it out in the open.

Eddie clears his throat, “What about him?”

“She seems to think he’s interested.”

“Oh.”

“I told her the same thing I’m gonna tell you – even if he is, I’m not.”

“Yeah?”

“Of course not,” you tell him with finality.  

He smiles with all of his teeth and leans his head on your shoulder, and he stays like that as you both rejoin the conversations going around the fire pit.  The thirteen of you reminisce for probably another hour before people start yawning and nodding, prompting the dad of the group to announce he’s taking his baby mama home.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m old and I’m tired.  I need to get my wife home and we need to make sure our kids haven’t killed each other,” Steve says as he and Emma stand.

Dustin stands and reaches a hand out to Jane to pull her up, “We’re going, too.  We promised my mom we’d go to breakfast in the morning.”

Thus begins the mass exodus of your back yard.

There are more hugs and handshakes.  Everyone says goodbye.  You promise the girls you’re going to meet for lunch tomorrow before Robin and Nancy go back to Massachusetts.

Then, it’s just you and Eddie.  But before you let your mind get too far ahead of you, you ask him to put out the fire while you grab the trash.  You need a little more time to hype yourself up for what you hope will be a defining moment in your relationship, and he seems to agree

You survey what’s left of your hard work as you drag the trash out to the back.

The fairy lights twinkle softly over your backyard, casting everything in warm orange and faded green. Half-deflated balloons that read “2005” drag across the deck in the breeze, and somewhere down the block, someone’s setting off fireworks, probably celebrating a graduation of their own.

You’re exhausted.  Good exhausted.  It’s the kind that settles deep in your bones after a night full of laughter, too much food,  and watching a girl you helped raise beam brighter than the stars overhead.

Now it’s just you and Eddie.

Finally.

He’s sitting on the back steps with his knees spread, forearms braced against them, a beer dangling loosely from his fingers.  His curls are damp and frizzy from the late May heat, cheeks flushed from alcohol and emotion alike.

You leave the trash by the door and go to sit beside him.

“Well,” you sigh dramatically as you drop down, “we survived.”

Eddie huffs out a laugh and chucks his bottle at the trash can, “Barely.  Henderson almost lit the grill on fire.”

“Technically, he did light the grill on fire.”

“You and your technicalities,” he scoffs.

You grin, leaning your shoulder against his.  For a moment, neither of you says anything.  The silence isn’t awkward, despite what happened earlier after graduation.  It never has been with Eddie.

Crickets hum in the trees.  Music still plays faintly from inside the house.  You instantly recognize the song.  Fucking “Heaven” by Bryan Adams.  Eddie stares out into the yard.

“She graduated,” he says quietly, like he still can’t believe it.

Your chest tightens, “I know.”

“I keep thinking she’s still that tiny kid hiding behind my legs after her first day of tee ball practice.”

You smile softly, “She cried for like twenty minutes.”

“She bit Steve.”

“She was defending your honor.”

“She was five!”

You both laugh at that.  Then the laughter fades.  And something changes.

Maybe it’s the alcohol.  Maybe it’s the quiet.  Maybe it’s the fact that there are no distractions. No timing issues.  No almosts.

Just you.  And Eddie.

He looks at you then.  Really looks at you.  There’s something dangerously open in his expression.

“You know,” he says softly, voice rough around the edges, “couldn’t’ve done any of this without you.”

It seems like that talk is starting now.  You shake your head immediately, “You’ve already told me that, Munson.”

“No, I mean it,” he says and his eyes don’t leave yours, “I’ll tell you every day if I have to.  Every science project, every fever, every nightmare, every parent-teacher conference where they thought I was gonna show up high out of my mind…”

You can’t help but snort.

“...you were there.”  

His smile turns smaller and a bit softer.  

“You stayed,” he all but whispers.

Your throat tightens painfully, “Of course I stayed.  Never even thought about leaving.”

The words come out quieter than you mean them to.

Eddie’s gaze drops briefly to your mouth.  Your pulse stutters.

There it is.  That thing that’s always lived between you.  Buried under years of bad timing and fear and almost-confessions.

His fingers brush yours accidentally, but neither of you pulls away.

“Jesus,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

“What?”

He shakes his head once, like he’s trying to clear it, but his hand turns, curling around yours fully now.  It’s warm and calloused and familiar.

“Do you have any idea,” he says quietly, “how hard it’s been not to kiss you?”

Your breath catches.  Eddie’s eyes light up.

“Then maybe,” you whisper, “you should stop trying not to.”

He squeezes your hand as he stares into your eyes like he’s looking for an answer to some kind of question he hasn’t asked yet.  He pulls you closer, so close you can feel his breath against your face.  It smells faintly of beer and mint gum.  You wonder what his mouth tastes like.

“Fuck it.”

Eddie grabs you by the waist and pulls you the scant inch closer and kisses you like a man starving, his lips an almost bruising force on your own.  His hand releases yours to slide up to the back of your neck so he can position your head in the way he wants.  You barely manage a startled sound before you press your lips to his just as desperately.

Years, you think. years of this feeling.  All of it crashes together at once.

His other hand slides around you farther to press against the small of your back, nudging you even closer to him as his tongue glides along the seam of your lips.  You let him in and he licks into your mouth.  His tongue is an insistent pressure on yours as they swirl together.    

He presses gently against the underside of your jaw with his thumb, and you give in to the gentle pressure, letting your head fall back, disengaging your lips only so you can fucking breathe.  His lips and trail across your jaw, down to your neck where he sucks lightly on your skin before tracing upward with his tongue.  You feel the hiss of his exhale as he gently nips at your ear.  It makes heat flare through your entire body and your nipples pucker.  You can feel yourself getting wet and you squirm.

In your daydreams, you’d always thought your first real kiss with Eddie would be one of those slow, romantic things.  A soft brush of lips, warm breath and gentle hands.

This is not soft or warm or gentle.  This is hard and hot and rough.  You’re undone and you want his tongue down your fucking throat.

But sitting side by side, the angle is awkward and you can’t touch him or feel him like you want.  You let out a frustrated whine and he chuckles as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth.  

It’s not enough.

Without even thinking, you throw a leg over both of his and climb into his lap, hands tangling in the front of his shirt to balance yourself, knees on either side of his thighs.  He doesn’t complain.  His hands move to your hips, gripping you tightly like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he loosens his hold for even a second.

Once you execute that move, the kiss turns messy fast.  It’s hot.  It’s breathless.

His teeth scrape lightly against your bottom lip as he tugs on it, and you feel him groan against your mouth when your fingers disappear into his curls and you tug gently at the hair at his nape.  You experimentally rock your hips to get some relief from the ache building in your core, and when you do, you can feel the hard length of him pressing against you through two layers of clothing.  He presses openmouthed kisses down the length of your neck as you arch against him.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes, forehead falling against yours, breaths mingling, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted…”

You cut him off with another kiss, “Believe me Eddie, I know.”

One hand travels from your hip, under your shirt and up along the side of your waist to your ribs.  It stops just below your breasts.  You can feel the cool bite of his rings against your heated skin as his thumb gently brushes the lace he finds there.  

“Shirt off?” he asks with an almost wild look in his eyes, and he waits until you give him an enthusiastic nod.  

He grips the bottom hem like he’s gripping the last of his sanity before he lifts it off you with ease.  It drops somewhere on the grass.  Goosebumps spread across your body as you’re exposed to the cooling night air, and your nipples get impossibly harder.

He pulls back slightly to take you in, wearing what you’re glad is one of your good bras, straddling his lap, lips swollen and spit slicked from his kisses.

“Goddammit, you’re beautiful.”

The hand that isn’t holding you moves upward that tiny bit more to fully engulf one of your breasts over the black lace.  He kneads the flesh, testing the weight and feel of it in his palm.  His thumb and forefinger meet to tweak your hardened nipple and you moan at the sensation as his cock twitches against your thigh.  

Your hips buck involuntarily at the contact and Eddie groans as he nips at your chin.

“You like that, baby?”

Baby.  Fuck.

You can’t do much but nod silently as he takes the cup of your bra and drags it down, exposing you to his hungry view.  His eyes have gone almost fully black, the pupil dilated by desire.  You can feel your juices soaking through your jeans.  It’s one of the hottest things you've ever seen, the wild look in his eyes as stares at you. 

His tongue comes out to wet his lips as he pants, “Fuck!  I want it in my mouth.  Can I?”

“Please, Eddie…” you practically beg.  You want nothing more than this man’s mouth all over you.

He wastes no time engulfing the bud between his lips, capturing it with his teeth, tongue flicking back and forth in a way that makes you clench your thighs around his waist.

“Jesus Christ, I love these fucking nipples,” he says as he draws down the other cup so he can tease the neglected one, “Tastes so sweet.”

You reach up to brace yourself on his shoulders and grind down again, seeking some sort of relief for your aching cunt.  You think you could come just like that, moving yourself on Eddie’s lap as he licks and sucks you into a frenzy.

“Fuck, Eddie…”

He releases your nipple with a pop so he can look up at you, “Yeah, baby, tell me what you want.  Do you want to ride me?” he grips your waist and thrusts upward with his hips, “Just like this?  Like we’re in fucking high school?”

“P-please.”

“Goddamit you feel so good,” he says as he licks at your jaw, down the side of your neck, to your collarbone where he places his lips and sucks deep.  Before, you’ve always hated when boyfriends left hickeys, you always thought they looked a little trashy, but right now you want nothing more than to be marked by him.

He runs his nose along the delicate skin, inhaling deeply. 

“I can smell you,” he breathes out harshly against you, “Are you fucking wet for me, Sweets?”

“Why don’t you find out?” you tease.  Where you gathered the boldness to ask that question, you don’t know.  But sitting in his lap and seeing him look at you the way he is makes you feel wanton and wanted.

You lean back, offering yourself to him, and brace your hands behind you on his knees.  His hands trail down over your breasts and your stomach to land at the waistband of your jeans.  He looks up at you again, asking for permission.

“Touch me.”

He snaps open the fly and pulls the zipper down to reveal the lacy, black panties that match your bra.  There’s a dainty, little bow on the front of them, and he gives you a wolfish grin.  He can feel your heat where he lets his hands rest right above where you want him most, his thumbs stroking the sensitive skin of your stomach.

“Jesus Christ.  A fucking bow.”

You almost giggle, but stop abruptly on a gasp as one hand delves between your thighs to cup your mound over your underwear.  You throw up your hands to brace yourself on his shoulders.

Eddie sucks in a breath and he feels the drenched fabric beneath his fingertips. 

“Fucking soaked for me.”

He glides his middle finger over the wet lace, barely tracing the seam of your lips and you shiver when he reaches your swollen clit.  He only gives you the barest touch and you whine, seeking out his lips for another bruising kiss.

“So sensitive,” he murmurs against the tops of your breasts as his tongue delves between them to lick the sweat gathering on your skin, “So needy.”

You try to grind down on him, but he stops you with a firm grip with his other hand.

“Uh uh.  Be a good girl and I’ll give you what you want.  Just let me play.”

He rubs teasing circles over your clothed clit, and your hips jump, but you do your best to obey and not shamelessly rut yourself against him like you want to.  Only a few brushes of his fingers and you already feel like you’re on the edge.

“That’s a good girl.  I’m gonna finger fuck this pretty pussy until you cum all over my hand,” he says roughly as he slides the gusset of your panties aside with his knuckles.  He runs one finger teasingly through your slick and you don’t even recognize the sound of your own voice as you moan.

“God, Eddie.  Yes…”

You barely make out the words before he’s adding another finger to slide inside your fluttering hole.

“So fucking tight,” Eddie murmurs as his forehead rests against yours, his eyes aimed downward where his fingers disappear inside of you, “So fuckin’ pretty on my fingers.”

He presses his thumb down hard on your clit and your cunt clenches around him.  You can feel every callous against your slick walls as he curls his digits just right, hitting that spot deep inside you that you can never reach on your own.  You squeeze your eyes shut against the sensation.

Eddie tsks, “Open your eyes baby.  I wanna see you.”

He twists his hand, bullying against your G-spot as he stares directly into your eyes, like a mystery he’s trying to solve, watching every emotion play across your face with rapt attention.  

“Fuck, Eddie, right there,” you tell him on a ragged breath.  You’re practically flooding him with your wetness.

“Yeah?  Getting so worked up with just my fingers?”

He teases each nipple with his tongue as his hips start to rock.  He feels impossibly hard and long beneath you, and all you can think about is how badly you want him inside you, stretching you to your limit.

He pulls his fingers out slowly, gathering your juices, and bringing them to your lips. 

“Open,” he commands, “Taste yourself.”

You take his fingers into your mouth, licking and sucking on them greedily, the taste of Eddie’s skin just underneath yours.  The mixture is heady.  Once he’s satisfied, he removes the fingers from your mouth and replaces them with his tongue, shoving it down your throat to taste your essence.

His hands take up real estate on your ass, squeezing and molding the flesh as he moves you against him.  You ride him shamelessly.

“Can you feel how hard I am for you?  Got me leaking in my jeans.” 

“I want to touch you,” you tell him as you trail your hands from his shoulders, down the front of his shirt to palm him over his jeans, “Please, Eddie.”

He bucks into you one last time before he nods, “Fucking take me out.”

You don’t waste any time popping the button of the black denim and lowering his zipper.  You slide your hand into his boxers and gasp as you take him in your hand.  His skin is soft and warm, and he’s hard as fucking steel.   When you release him from the confines of his underwear, he swears under his breath.  

“Goddammit.” 

He’s beautiful everywhere – thick and long enough that you can feel a little flip in your stomach at the thought of him breaching your entrance and filling you up.  The tip of his cock is a dusky red, leaking pre-cum that you desperately want to taste.  There’s a bulging vein running along the underside that you want nothing more than to trace with your tongue.  

“Ain’t that a fucking sight,” he breathes, “Your tiny little hand wrapped around my cock.  Squeeze it, baby.”

You do just as he tells you and he growls as he presses his head into your neck, biting down softly where it meets your shoulder.  

“Jesus Christ, I can’t even look at it or I’m gonna cum,” he grunts.

He lifts his head to look up at you between his lashes.  Your hair is wild, your eyes are glassy with lust.  He wants to ruin you.

“Spit on it,” he commands softly, “Can you do that for me?”

You nod and obey, spitting directly on his cock, right on the head.  Your hands glide up and down, stroking the velvet hardness now slick with the mixture of your spit and his pre-cum.  His hips jerk with your movements..

“That’s it baby.  A little harder.”

You tighten your grip and stroke him a little faster.  A little whine escapes your mouth.

“What is it pretty baby?  Tell me what you need.”

“Need you to touch me.”

He tightens his grip on your ass, “I am touching you baby.  You’re gonna have to be more specific.  Use your words.”

“I need your fingers,” you practically beg.

“Where?”

He holds your gaze.  He wants you to tell him.  He needs you to tell him.  

“In my cunt,” you keen, not breaking eye contact as your hand travels up and down the length of his cock.

He gives you no warning before he shoves two fingers in your pussy and you cry out.

“Holy shit!”

“Is this where you want me, baby?  In this tight little cunt.  Goddamn, she’s swallowing me up.”

He curls his fingers right against the spot inside you he’s already memorized and your vision whites out.  You’re practically gushing on his hand, walls clamping around his digits as you grind down on him.  

“I want you to cum like this,” he tells you, “Clothes still fucking on, letting me fuck you with my fingers, your hand wrapped around my cock.  Both of us just desperate to get off.”

You twist your hand on the glide up and brush his tip with your thumb.  He gasps as you tease the slit.  Your lips meet again in a sloppy, open mouthed kiss, tongues tangling together recklessly.  You tighten your grip and set a rhythmic pace, hardly allowing him to breathe.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he pants against your cheek and begins to rub tight circles around your clit with his thumb.  

“Are you gonna cum?  Just like this, with nothing but my fingers?  Squeezing my cock so good.”

You give a jerky nod as he pumps harder, wanting nothing more than to feel your silky walls clamp down on him.  He fucks you with his fingers like he has something to prove.

“Yes, Eddie, I’m gonna cum,” you cry out as you feel the pressure build low in your stomach.  It increases with every thrust.  You’re right on the edge, on the verge of tipping over when he curls his fingers, hitting your G-spot at just the right angle and your pace on his cock falters.  

You can feel the pleasure rippling over your skin in waves.  He doesn’t stop, working you through your aftershocks with a slow, come hither motion.

“That’s it baby, ride it out,” he says, eyes locked on where you’re still stroking his cock, “Did so good for me.”

He slowly pulls his fingers from you and takes your hand.  He guides your fingers from his aching dick to your gushing cunt and smears your juices on your palm.  It’s fucking filthy and you fucking love it.

You give him a grin and you once again wrap your hands around his cock and stroke.  You grip him firmly.  You need to see him come undone.

“Yeah baby, faster,” he gasps, rutting into your hand like a wild animal.

You pick up the pace and look down at your lap where you’ve got him in your hands.

“Cum for me baby.  Wanna see it on my skin,” you tell him.

You can see the muscles of Eddie’s abdomen contracting beneath his shirt as you twist your hand one more time.  His spine arches, pleasure arcing over him like lightning, flowing from the base of his cock as he spurts pearly cum all over your hand.

“Jesus.  Fuck,” he curses as you slow your pace, slowly milking him as his cock continues to throb.

His forehead falls to your collarbone and you kiss the top of his head and you both try and even out your breathing.

“It’s about time,” you say against his hair.

Suddenly Eddie goes still beneath you and you feel his hands loosen against your hips.

“Eddie?”

He pulls back abruptly, like he’s been hit.  He’s breathing hard again.

“No,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, “No, no, this is…”

Your stomach drops.

“What?”

He stands too fast, and you basically fall off his lap in the process. You awkwardly pull your bra back into place as Eddie tucks himself back into his jeans.  He paces a few steps away like he can physically outrun whatever’s happening in his head.

“This was a bad idea.”

The words hit like a slap and you simply stare at him as you wipe your hands on your pants.

“A bad idea?”

“I didn’t mean – shit!” 

“Didn’t mean what?”

He won’t look at you, “I just – this changes everything.”

“Yeah,” you say quietly as you duck your head slightly to try to get into his line of sight, “It does.”

“I can’t screw this up,” he says it more to himself than to you.

“You think what just happened is screwing up?” you ask anyway.

“No!” he snaps immediately, finally looking at you.  Panic shows openly on his face now, “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying, Eddie?”

He opens his mouth then promptly closes it.  He doesn’t even have words for what he’s feeling.  That’s always been the problem with the two of you, having feelings bigger than fucking language.

“I can’t lose you,” he says finally, voice cracking around the words.

“You’re not gonna lose me,” you tell him as you step closer to him.

“But I could,” His eyes shine under the patio lights, terrified and wrecked and painfully sincere, “And if this goes bad…”

“Why would it go bad?”

“Look what I just did to you.”

“What you did to me?”

He’s talking about making you come harder than you ever have in your life.  Something you’d only dreamed about doing with Eddie.  But the way he says it makes your stomach churn.  Like it was a mistake.  Like he regrets it.

Seemingly without thinking, he reaches for your jeans, which are still undone, like he’s going to zip them back up.  You slap his hands away to do it yourself, feeling suddenly very vulnerable.

The silence stretches.  Then, Eddie steps backward toward the front of the house, already retreating.

“I should go.”

Your chest aches and you feel a little dirty, and very exposed.  You search the ground for your shirt, but Eddie beats you to it.  You snatch it from him and throw it back on.

“Eddie, what the fuck?”

“I just – I need a minute.”

And before you can stop him, he’s gone.  He’s left you standing alone in the glow of party lights, lips swollen from kissing him, the feel of him still between your legs.  And now with your heart beating painfully against your ribs.

You don’t even know what to do.  Eddie just gave you an orgasm and then fucking left basically saying that what the two of you had done was a big mistake.  Usually when something greatly, horribly, monstrously awful happened to you, Eddie was the one you’d call.  Except now, unless he’s on his knees, begging for forgiveness, Eddie is the last person you want to see.

Working on autopilot, you close down the backyard, basically ripping the string lights from the plug and throwing the garbage bags vaguely toward the trash can.  All you can think about is taking a scalding hot shower and crawling into bed.

Not only are you pissed, you’re fucking hurt.  What the fuck was going on in Eddie’s head?  Why did he run away like he was being chased?  Why wouldn’t he just stay and talk to you?

You don’t have the brain power to think about it anymore.  It is going to have to wait for tomorrow.  Right now, you have a checklist of two, shower and bed.

And you doubt sleep is going to come easy.

It’s Chrissy who convinces Eddie that it’s a good idea to go to Steve Harrington’s Halloween movie marathon.  He can admit to himself that she is probably tired of hanging out in the trailer listening to him try and perfect yet another Kirk Hammett guitar solo or going to Benny’s to get milkshakes.  At least when they aren’t doing other things.  

He is a little bit surprised they are even invited.  

It’s not like he and Steve are the best of friends.  Sure, they hang out in group settings, usually with all the kids, and it isn’t like they are enemies or anything, but Eddie has never actually been to anything at Steve’s house before.  He’s never stepped foot inside of Chez Harrington, not even on the occasion that he’s dropped Dustin off after Hellfire.  He knows it has to be you that snagged Chrissy and him an invite.

He reasons because you and Steve have gotten quite a bit closer as September turned into October, and Eddie can’t even remember the last time the two of you hung out solo.  There was a time where you and Eddie spent almost every waking second together, and now, the last time Eddie recalls seeing you outside of school is when you passed him on the way into Benny’s with Steve and Robin while he and Chrissy were leaving.  

As much as Eddie likes spending time with Chrissy – being able to call her his girlfriend, and all the perks that come with that – he fucking misses you.  He misses Friday movie nights in the trailer, he misses the pile of your clothes that used to sit at the bottom of his closet, he misses taking late night drives to nowhere where the two of you would just talk about life and listen to music.  He’s even had a few nights where he slept with your stupid blanket because for a moment he forgot what you smell like.

It’s a bit pathetic and a bit dramatic, and while yes, he’s pulling the van up Steve’s driveway because Chrissy said that it would be fun to hang out with everyone and watch Michael Meyers kill a bunch of people, he’s also there because he’s a little desperate to see you.

Everyone else’s vehicles line the driveway because, as usual, Eddie is the last to arrive.  He parks his van behind Nancy’s old station wagon.  Your car is parked next to Steve’s BMW and blocked in by everyone else.  You probably arrived early to help Steve get ready.  That’s how comfortable you seem to be with Steve, like you were with Eddie, making sure the house is clean, making sure there are snacks, making sure everyone has a seat and knows they’re welcome.

Eddie isn’t sure what to do with how that makes him feel.  He’s not exactly sure why it makes him feel anything at all.

Eddie internally rolls his eyes at himself and puts his van in park.  He grabs Chrissy’s hand in his own sweaty one as the two of them round the hood and make it up the walkway to the door.  He can feel himself fidget a little as they go up the steps.  

Who knows what awaits them in Steve’s house.  Is the toilet seat going to be made of gold?  Is he going to serve caviar instead of popcorn? 

“Are you nervous?” Chrissy asks, giving his hand a squeeze.

“What?  No,” he tells her a little too emphatically.

“Are you sure?  Because you seem a little nervous.”

“Guess I’m just excited to see everyone.  It’s been a while.”

Chrissy gives him a sweet smile as they hit the top step.

The door swings open before Eddie can even knock.

“Finally,” Robin begins, stepping aside with a dramatic wave of her hand, “I was beginning to think you got lost.”

“Hawkins isn’t that big, Buckley.”

“That’s exactly why I was worried.”

Chrissy laughs at the exchange as they step inside, and the warmth of the Harrington house hits immediately.  The entryway smells like popcorn, pizza, and a hint of chocolate.

“Everybody is in the living room,” Robin says as she turns to guide them.

Eddie shrugs off his jacket and follows the sound of her voice.

The first thing he sees is you and Harrington already lounging on the couch. You are at the far end, elbow propped up on the arm rest, fist pulled up beneath your chin.  Steve is sprawled across the rest of the couch, feet dangling across the opposite arm rest, his head in your lap, your fingers running absentmindedly through his hair.  You don’t seem to be paying attention to it at all, you’re just doing it.  Like you’ve done it a thousand times.

Eddie stops walking.

When the fuck did you start playing with Steve Harrington’s hair?  More importantly, when the fuck did Steve Harrington start letting people play with his hair?

Steve notices their arrival first.

“Munson.  Cunningham.”

Steve lifts one hand in greeting, but he doesn’t move from where he’s laying.  He doesn’t move his head.  He doesn’t move away from you.  

You glance up from a conversation with Nancy.   

“Oh, hey guys,” you say in greeting, but your fingers never stop moving.  Something unpleasant twists in Eddie’s stomach at the sight.

“They’re looking particularly chummy,” he says to Robin as she gestures for his and Chrissy’s jackets.

Robin follows his gaze and shrugs, “Looks about the same as when she did it with you.”

The words land harder than they should because she’s right.

For years Eddie has sprawled across couches, floors, picnic tables, and beds all while you’ve played with his hair.  It was never something he thought about.  It was never something he needed to question.  And he never imagined a day when someone else would occupy that space.

Chrissy slips her hand into his and Eddie tries to shake the thought away.  He’s here with Chrissy, his girlfriend, and it’s really none of his business if you play with Steve’s hair.  You can do whatever you want to do with whoever you want to do it with.  It’s not like he’s jealous or anything.

“Come on,” Chrissy says softly.

Eddie blinks, “Yeah.”

She pulls him into the room, and he lets her.  

For the most part, everyone is already seated.  The younger kids have made a sort of bed on the living room floor with seemingly every pillow the Harrington’s own.  The boys are fighting over a bowl of popcorn while El and Max are whispering to each other.  Jonathan and Nancy are cuddled up in one of the two loveseats.  Robin has gone somewhere with his and Chrissy’s jackets and Vickie asks them if they want anything to drink.

Chrissy gets a Diet Coke and Eddie just shakes his head.

You finally finish your conversation with Nancy and get up to walk over to them, Steve pouting as you shift his head to place it on a pillow.

“I was starting to think you weren’t going to show,” you say as you nudge him with your elbow.

“And miss a chance to scope out Steve Harrington’s house, are you kidding?” Eddie tries to joke, but it lacks his usual flair.

“It is pretty nice,” you concede, “I’m trying to convince him to have a pool party when summer comes around.”

“Ooh, that would be fun,” Chrissy says when Eddie remains silent mainly because he doesn’t know what to say.  Apparently you’re also comfortable enough with Steve to commandeer his pool over the summer.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll have to twist his arm too hard.  If you two want the other loveseat, have at it.  Steve is going to spend most of the night hiding behind me and pretending he’s not scared,” you say, voice getting progressively louder and more pointed toward Steve himself.

“You know I don’t like Michael Myers!  And yet still you picked Halloween!” he calls from his place on the couch.

“We’re doing a Halloween movie marathon, Stevie, kinda requires us to show the movie, don’tcha think.”

Eddie’s face screws up a bit when hears you refer to Steve as Stevie.  It’s not like it’s the first time, it might be the millionth, but after walking in and seeing you with Steve all up in your lap, it hits a bit differently.

“Anyway,” you continue, “there’s pizza in the kitchen, popcorn if you can wrestle it away from the gremlins.  I have brownies in the oven.  The bathroom is down the hallway, first door on the right.”

“Thanks,” Chrissy says as Eddie once again remains silent.  She guides him through the maze of children to the loveseat and they shift around to find the most comfortable position which ends up with her half in his lap.  At least something good is coming out of the night.

He glances around and marvels at how at ease everyone feels in Harrington’s house.  The kids obviously feel comfortable enough to scavenge the whole house for their hoard of pillows.  Robin answered the door like she owns the place.  Vickie is firmly behind the island taking charge of making sure no one perishes from thirst.  And you’ve obviously made yourself at home in the kitchen if you’re baking for everyone.

He shakes his head.  Of course everyone is comfortable.  Everyone loves Steve. Steve’s an okay guy.  Eddie really has to stop fixating on it. 

It doesn’t take much longer for everyone to get settled.  Robin and Vickie end up on the other end of the couch that you and Steve occupy – you, Robin, and Vickie giggling at Steve as he figures out where he best needs to sit to hide behind your shoulder.  Eddie would usually find it funny, he would usually join in as you girls called Steve out, but he doesn’t this time.  It feels like some sort of inside joke he’s not a part of.

When the movie finally starts, it’s a cacophony of sound.  The boys on the floor talk over the opening credits while Nancy shushes them.  Max and El are arguing the merits of Twizzlers versus Red Vines.  You and Steve are whispering something to each other that he can’t hear.  

Everything seems normal, at least there’s nothing abnormal going on, but every time Eddie looks away from the movie, he notices something else.  Something else about you and Steve.

You steal handfuls of popcorn from the bowl Steve finally procured and he doesn’t complain.  He simply smiles and removes an errant kernel from the sleeve of your sweater.  You beam at him.  

Steve grabs a blanket from the back of the couch and pulls it over the both of you like it’s nothing and you’ve shared blankets your whole life. 

During scary parts, Steve will pull out his phone and show you something so he doesn’t have to look at the television screen, and at not one point do you seem annoyed.

When Eddie became some sort of fucking creeper who can’t help but stare at you while you watch a movie, he’ll never know.  All he does know is that he doesn’t like the feeling that he’s being replaced.  Because now that he’s apparently doing some critical analysis in his head, he realizes that all of the seemingly insignificant things you’re doing with Steve are things you always did with him, and now that he’s no longer the recipient, they don’t seem so damn insignificant.

At some point during the movie, you get up to go to the kitchen to take the brownies out of the oven.

“Sunny?” Steve calls from his perch on the couch.

“What do you want, Steve?” you ask the question with no edge, just humor in your voice.

“Can you grab me a drink while you’re up?”

“Get it yourself.”

“You’re already up!”

You’re silent for a beat and Eddie watches a grin spread across Steve’s face as he waits.

“What do you want, Harrington?”

“Coke,” he replies, grinning wider like the cat who caught the canary.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty and bought me pizza.”

Robin immediately starts gagging, “You two are disgusting.”

Steve simply flips her off as the room erupts into laughter.  It sounds like another inside joke he’s not a part of.

He realizes with a sudden clarity that he really isn’t a part of it, at least not the part that involves whatever is going on between you and Steve — and there’s definitely something going on.  He’s not a part of it because he’s been so wrapped up in his new relationship that he hasn’t talked to you, not really, about anything other than Hellfire or trying to align your schedules to hang out in what seems like an eternity.  

The two of you used to be able to spend hours talking to each other about everything and nothing all at once – from something as benign as a milkshake you had a Benny’s to getting into the emotional roller coaster that was sharing with each other about your feelings and the stuff that was really going on in your head.

By now, the two of you would have usually had what would end up being an all-night conversation where he drove you down to Lover’s Lake and you’d share a joint on top of a picnic table.  He used to think that there wasn’t anything you wouldn’t tell each other, but that turned out to be false.  He hadn’t told you about Chrissy.  And now it looks like you haven’t told him about Steve.

Not that he thinks you’re trying to get back at him, nothing as petty as that.  He thinks it’s something even worse.  He’s pretty sure that you don’t trust him with that kind of information anymore or that you’re embarrassed to tell him.  He doesn’t care for either option if he’s honest with himself.

If it’s that you don’t trust him with that kind of knowledge anymore, he can’t lie, that will hurt like a bitch.  Knowing that he did something that made you have to think about it before you told him something makes his skin itch. 

That’s when Eddie catches Chrissy watching him.  

She’s not watching you.  She’s not watching Steve.  She’s watching him.  And her expression is unreadable.  Feeling guilty and not understanding why, he shoots her a tight smile and glances back toward the television.

When you come back from the kitchen with Steve’s Coke and a brownie that you hand him with a smile, the seating arrangement shifts.  You settle in beside him close enough that your shoulders touch.  And they stay touching.  Neither of you moves.  There’s none of the back and forth that happens when people who aren’t comfortable with each other sit too close.  Because the two of you are apparently that close.  It’s one more thing that Eddie notices and he hates that he notices.

He has no fucking clue what’s going on with his brain.  He’s literally cuddled up in a loveseat with the girl of his dreams – a girl he’s crazy about.  She’s got her legs in his lap and her head on his shoulders, and he seems wholly incapable of focusing on it.  Instead, all he can do is watch every tiny interaction between you and Steve like it’s going to give him the final piece to a puzzle he didn’t know he was trying to solve.

The rest of the movie passes in a blur.  The only reason Eddie could tell anyone how it ends is because he’s seen it about a hundred times.  He laughs when the others laugh and jumps when the others jump.  He nods along when Dustin tries to bring him into a conversation about why Michael Myers is scarier than Freddy Krueger.

Eddie’s body is in Steve Harrington’s living room, but his brain is somewhere else entirely.

The credits finally begin to roll and Steve reaches for the remote to click the TV off.  The room immediately erupts into conversation that Eddie is only vaguely a part of.  The younger kids are gathering up the pillows and blankets and dutifully putting them back wherever they found them while everyone stretches from having been sat for roughly two hours.

From the couch, Steve lets out an exaggerated groan, “My legs are asleep.”

“That happens when you don’t move for an entire movie,” Robin tells him.

“I was engrossed.”

“You were hiding,”

“Was not!” he argues.

You turn to him with an incredulous look on your face, “You literally used me as a human shield.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You roll your eyes but smile anyway, nudging him gently with your elbow as you gather up soda cans and cups from the coffee table and move toward the kitchen.

“Let me help,” Steve says as he follows after you.

Neither of you seem to think twice about it, but Eddie notices.  

You disappear in the kitchen together while Nancy and Jonathan corral kids and Robin and Vickie dole out jackets.  It isn’t anything.  It’s just dishes.  Just cleaning up.  Just…something else that Eddie used to do with you without ever thinking twice about it.

After the kids are shuffled off by Nancy and Jonathan, and everyone else has settled back in the living room, Robin shifts the conversation toward tomorrow night – Tina’s Halloween party.

“So, are you excited about Tina’s Halloween party tomorrow night?” Robin asks Chrissy.

“Definitely.”

“Won’t this be your first real party together as a couple?”

Chrissy looks over at Eddie and he nods.

“Yeah, I guess it will,” he supplies.

“It’ll be fun.  There’s always some kind of drama at Tina’s parties,” Robin smirks like she wants to be a part of that drama. 

The conversation peters out and another Halloween movie is started, but the night ends almost as soon as the movie does.  Everyone knows movie nights aren’t as much fun without the kids. 

The drive home from Steve’s house is quieter than the ride over.  It’s not uncomfortable, but Eddie’s van isn’t used to quiet moments.  He has the windows cracked and the radio turned down.  Chrissy reaches over and gently pats his arm.

“I had fun tonight.”

Eddie smiles, “Yeah?”

“Uh huh.”  She gives him a pretty grin, “I like your friends.  They’re nice.”

“They’re something, that’s for sure.”

They drive another block before Chrissy speaks again.

“I think Steve likes Sunny.”

Eddie glances over, “You think?”

She gives him an incredulous look, “Eddie.”

“What?”

“They shared a blanket the entire night.  He was practically glued to her side.”

“They’ve gotten close,” he admits.

“I noticed.”

He drums his fingers on the steering wheel, not exactly sure where the conversation is going.

“Guess I didn’t realize how close,” he says.

Chrissy studies him for a moment, “You miss her.”

He frowns, “What?”

“You and Sunny,” she clarifies with a soft smile, “You miss hanging out with her.”

The words catch him off guard, not because they aren’t true but because Chrissy noticed.

“We haven’t really…” he trails off, “It’s been a while since we’ve really hung out.”

“You’ve both been busy.”

He nods.

Chrissy tilts her head in his direction, “You with me.”

“And her with…” he gestures vaguely for Chrissy to finish.

“Steve.”

Eddie lets out a sigh.  He’s as transparent as a fucking window.

“Steve, Robin, Vickie, Nancy, Jonathan, the kids – take your pick,” she tells him.

He stares out the windshield as her words hit him.

“We used to see each other every day.”

“You still do.”

“Not really.  Not like now.”

“School doesn’t count?”

He shakes his head, “Not with me and Sunny.”  

Chrissy has tons of friends, or at least she did before she got together with Eddie.  She was always surrounded by people happy to see her.  While Eddie’s circle has most definitely expanded in the last couple of years, there was a time when there was only you.  And there’s a big difference between passing someone in the hallway or sitting with them at the lunch table versus spending four hours talking about everything and nothing all at once.  He doesn’t really know how to explain that.

“I don’t know.  Feels like I missed a turn somewhere.”

Chrissy reaches over and squeezes his hand, “Maybe you should call her.”

“Yeah?”

“Invite her to do something,” she tells him with a smile, “I know she’s your best friend.  Friendships take work, too.”

Eddie chuckles softly, “You’re pretty smart, Miss Cunningham.”

She leans over and kisses his cheek, “Just telling you what you already know, Mr. Munson.”

The van rolls to a stop outside the Cunningham house.  Before climbing out, Chrissy turns back to him.

“For the record, I think she’d really appreciate that.”

“Sunny?”

“Yeah.  She hasn’t stopped being your best friend.”

“You’re right,” he tells her.

Chrissy slips out of the van with a smile, “Goodnight Eddie.”

“Goodnight Chris.”

He watches her walk up the front steps and go inside before he pulls away from the curb.  Her words stay with him for the rest of his drive.

Friendships take work, too.

Chrissy is right.  Eddie has been so caught up in his blossoming relationship that all of his friendships have been waiting on the sidelines. He’s certain that’s what the feeling that’s been sitting in his stomach all night is.  He just misses his best friend.

He resolves that tomorrow, at Tina’s party, he’ll make a point to spend some time with Sunny and make plans to do something with her.  Then maybe the gnawing will finally subside.

He’ll fix it tomorrow. 

Eddie and Chrissy have been at the party for a good half hour, and so far no one has tried to start shit.  It might actually be a record. 

Usually, it starts as soon as they enter a room together – Jason or one of his cronies has something to say, or one of Chrissy's former friends makes a comment just loud enough for everyone to hear. Tonight, though, the insults seem to have drowned beneath cheap beer, loud music, and the weed half the football team bought from him before the party started.

Eddie thinks that it’s honestly pretty nice.

He convinced Chrissy to dress as the Princess Leia to his Han Solo.  He has a replica of Han’s blaster at his hip and Chrissy’s bunned head tucked beneath his arm while Gareth and Jeff argue over who is the better metal vocalist between Ronnie James Dio and Rob Halford.  They’ve been doing so for almost forty-five minutes.

“Ronnie James Dio,” Eddie tells them, “Hands down.”

Jeff groans dramatically, “I don’t need you putting your two cents in, Munson.”

“I’m just saying…”

“You’re just mad because he agrees with me,” Gareth pipes in, shouting above the noise of the music blaring out of the bluetooth speakers someone set up in the living room.

“You’re just mad because deep down you know I’m  right,” Jeff spits out, already half tipsy.

Chrissy laughs beneath his arm.  She rolls her eyes at them, but she’s still smiling.  And it’s all easy.  Comfortable.  It’s a normal Eddie never thought he would have.  He’s at a party with his friends – with his girlfriend – and everything is smooth sailing.

Then, the front door opens.  He’s not sure how he notices in the chaos that is Tina’s house, but he feels the burst of cool October air, then he hears the familiar laughter.

Robin Buckley.

Eddie would know that vivacious cackle anywhere.

“You cheated!” are the first words out of her mouth as she enters, followed closely behind by Steve Harrington.

“I absolutely did not!” Steve argues.

“You bribed children!”

“One singular child.  And there was no bribing.  I negotiated.”

“Semantics.”

You and Vickie spill in behind them, arms linked, laughing at them as they bicker back and forth.  Robin is pointing an accusatory finger at Steve and you and Vickie are practically doubled over watching them.  Steve reaches over and steadies you by the elbow before you knock Vickie over.

“You okay there, sweetheart?”  

Eddie can just hear him over the music.

“I’m fine,” you laugh while trying to catch your breath, “You two are just so dramatic.”

“Dramatic?” Robin asks with a gasp, “You literally watched him threaten Dustin!”

“I did not threaten him.”

“You said, and I quote, ‘Henderson, if you don’t choose me I will throw every piece of candy you own out the window.’  All of the drama over asking who has the best Halloween costume.”

Steve crosses his arms, looking entirely unapologetic.

“I don’t see where I’m in the wrong.  And I won.”

You bump your shoulder into his, “You’re ridiculous.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Vickie snorts, looking between Steve and Robin, “You two are exhausting.”

“You love us,” Robin tells her, extricating her from your grip.

“Correction, I tolerate you.”

“Liar.”

The four of you dissolve into even more laughter as you finally make your way fully through the door.  And Eddie just watches the exchange unfold while Gareth, Jeff, and Chrissy drone on in the background.  

You’re all so comfortable with one another.  It’s not quite the way people who’ve known each other forever are, like you and Eddie.  It’s more in the way that people become comfortable with each other because they consciously choose to spend time with each other for the singular purpose of being together.

Robin reaches out and straightens Steve’s mask.  He’s dressed as The Dread Pirate Roberts to your Princess Buttercup.  It is a costume you’ve been planning for almost a year.  You’ve been sourcing it over the months, and Eddie has to say that you have it down to a tee.  The dress.  The wig.  The gold belt.  He feels a little twist in his gut knowing that he was the one who was supposed to be your costume partner.  He was always your costume partner.  Now it’s Harrington.  Now Eddie’s is Chrissy. 

He doesn’t want to think about Harrington.  He wants to think about you.  You look…beautiful.  But of course Steve makes a dashing fucking Westley standing next to you.  It makes him want to grind his teeth.  

Robin and Vickie are dressed as Scooby Doo’s Daphne and Velma, and that makes him smile a little, at least. 

Vickie nudges everyone toward the kitchen.

“Come on, Keg King, you promised me beer,” Vickie tells Steve. 

“It’s not my beer.”

“You should’ve thought of that before you made the promise.”

You fall into step beside Steve without even thinking about it.  It’s almost as if you belong there.  It’s only then that you finally look up and around the room.  Your eyes immediately find Eddie’s and your entire face brightens.

“Eddie!”

You lift a hand in a wave that makes your blonde wig shake all around your face.  He can’t help but smile.

“There you are!” Robin calls out like she’s been searching for him for hours, “We thought you might be hiding.”

“Nope,” Eddie says with a grin as the four of you approach, “Just letting your group make their grand entrance.”

Steve chuckles, “That was Buckley.”

“It was entirely you, drama queen,” Robin fires back.

You laugh, “It was definitely you, Stevie.”

Steve places a hand over his chest in mock offense and then pulls you into him with an arm around your shoulder.

“I don’t appreciate a two-pronged attack.”

“You’ll survive.”

“What if I don’t?” Steve asks with a pout.

You gently press a finger to his lips to put them back in their normal shape, “I promise you will.”

Steve smiles against your finger.  Eddie can feel the weirdness in his gut again.

The conversation continues to flow around him.  You join in on the previous conversation that Eddie’s group was having and suggest adding Bruce Dickinson to the list.  Because of course you would, and it just stirs Gareth and Jeff up even more.  He can tell by the glint in your eyes that you did it on purpose.

Eddie waits for a lull, something that gives him an in so he can talk to just you for a second, but it never comes.

Vickie says something pointedly to Steve about finding the beer again to which Steve gives a nod and goes off on his mission with Vickie and Robin close on his tail.

You turn to Eddie before you follow The Dread Pirate Roberts, “We’ll come find you again in a minute.”

“Take your time,” he tells you.

Within seconds, you’re swallowed by the crowd, even though Eddie still tries to catch a glimpse of your red dress through the throng of bodies.  He can still hear Robin’s voice carrying over the music.

“You good?” Chrissy asks quietly.

“What?” he asks as he turns to look down at her.

“You looked like you were somewhere else for a second.”

“Sorry, I just…every time I try to talk to her, something pulls one of us away.”

“The night’s young, babe.  I’m sure you’ll find time.”

“Yeah.”

The music grows louder as Tina’s house grows more crowded.  Someone has started playing “I Put a Spell on You” over the speakers and everyone has gone wild.  The living room has become an impromptu dance floor, and everyone is basically shoulder-to-shoulder.

Steve has returned from his conquest and beers are being passed around.

“One beer, one beer, one beer...” he says as he hands them out to you, Robin, and Vickie, “And one Coke for the designated driver.”

Steve decided he was in charge of the three of you for the night.  He made sure you all knew that you were allowed to let loose and have fun and he would take care of you.

“You’re such a gentleman, Stevie.”

He blushes and grants you a mega watt smile and you smile back at him from your cup.

“Dance with me,” he says, holding out the hand not holding his drink.

You don’t even have to think about it.  You let him twirl you around, careful not to slosh your beer as bodies press in all around.  You sway back and forth with him in between sips and he mouths along with the song.

You glance across the room, looking for Eddie.  He is situated near the dining room having an animated discussion with Gareth and Jeff, Chrissy is tucked neatly under his arm.  He catches your eyes and you smile.  He smiles back.

Someone bumps into you from behind before you can give him a wave.  You hear a mumbled “sorry” as you stumble forward a step.  Steve catches you before you spill beer all over the front of your very expensive costume.

“Easy there, Buttercup.”

“I swear I’m not a klutz,” you say as you lean into him for balance.

“I’ve seen evidence to the contrary.”

“When was that?”

“When you tried to hop up on the counter at work and almost flipped over backward.  It was only my cat-like reflexes that saved you.”

“So this isn’t just a costume?” you ask as you gesture toward his get up.

“No ma’am.  I have indeed come to save you from the evil Prince Humperdink.”

You can see Robin watching the exchange out of the corner of her eye.  She leans over and whispers something to Vickie.  Vickie immediately looks over at you and Steve.  Then back at Robin.  Her lips expand into a grin.

You narrow your eyes and ask, “What?”

“Nothing,” Robin answers too quickly.

“I don’t believe you.”

Robin laughs, “You probably shouldn’t.”

Before you can interrogate her further, a voice cuts through the music.

“Who’s up for Seven Minutes in Heaven?” someone (you’re pretty sure it’s Carol) asks, holding two empty Solo cups in the air.

Drunken cheers echo all around.  What else is everyone expected to do at a party other than make each other kiss?

“Oh my god, yes!  The drama!” Robin says with a squeal, grabbing your hand and following the crowd.

Before she can pull you too far away, you grab Steve’s hand and drag him with you.

“If I have to follow her, you have to follow her, too,” you tell him.

Steve just gives you a shrug and mutters, “As you wish,” and follows along.  He’s learned quickly that when you and Robin get something in your heads, it’s best if he just goes with it.

Everyone interested has gathered around the couch where Tommy sits like it’s a throne.  There are quite a few of you and it’s obvious that Tommy has put himself in charge as he starts giving everyone instructions.  He’s grabbed a spiral notebook from god knows where and tells everyone playing to write their names on the pieces of paper he tears off.  In one cup goes boys’ names, in the other, girls’. 

“I’m getting you kissed,” Robin says as she grabs two pieces of paper and starts scribbling.

“Robin!  What the fuck?” you all but shout as you try to pull her away, but she just shrugs you off.

She finishes your name first and shoves it in the girls’ cup.  Then she takes the second piece and you look over her shoulder to see the letters she’s jotting down.  S–T–E

That’s when Steve finally notices, “What are you doing, Buckley?”

“I’m putting your name in.”

“Yeah, no way.” 

“Don’t worry, I put Sunny’s in, too.”

“How is that supposed to be any better?”

Robin just waggles her eyebrows.

You stare at her.  She beams.  Steve looks like he’s deciding if murder would be worth the prison time.

He folds his arms, looking a little bit like a petulant toddler, “I’m taking my name out.”

“Nope,” Tommy says, shaking both cups as Robin drops his name in, “Once you’re in, you’re in.”

“This feels illegal – like coercion or something,” Steve mutters.

“It’s Halloween,” Robin says, “This day is lawless.”

“That’s not how the law works, Robs,” Steve tells her, but she’s no longer paying attention.

Tommy claps loudly and motions for everyone to gather around him, “I’m not going to bore you with the minute details.  We all know how this game works.  I hope you kids have all popped your gum and brought your chapstick, because it’s time to get those lips moving.  Alright, first pair!”

The room erupts into sudden cheers as he reaches into each cup and pulls out two slips of paper. Tommy yells out names and the first couple gets shoved toward the hall closet while everyone howls and pounds on the walls

“Have fun, minions!  The timer is set to seven minutes!” Tommy yells to the crowd as he makes his way to the kitchen while everyone waits, “I need a drink!”.  

Steve mumbles something about going to the bathroom and says he’ll be back in a minute.

Suddenly, your heart is racing.  This wasn’t exactly how you thought your night was going to go.

Robin and Steve know that you’ve never kissed anyone before, but you’re damn sure not going to let the entirety of Hawkins High know as well.  You hang back near the couch, arms crossed, hoping no one sees the anxiety written on your face.

Robin weasels her arm around your shoulders, “You’re nervous.”

“I’m plotting your demise,” you tell her with a roll of your eyes.

“Same thing.  But don’t be mad at me.  I know you want to kiss Steve, even if you won’t admit it.”

“There’s no guarantee that the name Tommy picks out with mine is gonna be Steve’s, Birdie!”

You see the realization hit her and she freezes, “I genuinely didn’t think about that.”

Before you can bury your face in your hands and wallow, you see Steve appear across the room, and he catches your eye.  He’s leaning against the doorway, hands in his pockets, looking oddly calmer than he did a minute ago.

Then he mouths, You good?

You roll your eyes at him just like you did Robin.

He grins.

I guess, you mouth back.

Tommy saunters back to his position and soon enough, the first pairing comes out of the closet looking smug.  Tommy sends in the next sacrifices.  Thankfully, neither your name nor Steve’s has come up yet.

“You better pray to whatever god you believe that I don’t have to go in that closet with Jason or Patrick,” you tell Robin as the minutes count down.

She shrugs like she knows she doesn’t have anything to worry about – the patented Buckley confidence.  You try not to let every intrusive thought you’ve ever had careen through your mind.

The timer goes off and the couple emerges from the closet.  They seem no worse for wear, thankfully.  Then, Tommy digs into the cups again.

“And next up…” he unfolds the first slip and a grin spreads across his face as he reads, “oh, this is good.”

“So help me god, Tommy,” Robin grumbles, moving to the edge of her seat.

Tommy continues to grin for a bit without revealing who’s on the paper.  You think Robin might combust in her anticipation while you want to crawl under the couch, “The one and only, King Steve!”

The room whoops.  You can see a few of the girls reapplying their lipstick and checking themselves out on their phones.  You look over to Steve and he drags a hand down his face. 

“Great,” he doesn’t even bother to say it under his breath as he approaches Tommy.

“And the lucky lady who gets to lock lips with Harrington is…”

Tommy opens the second paper slowly, and you’ve got to give it to him, he’s a master at drawing out the suspense.  But somehow, you already know.  You can feel Robin vibrating beside you.  You’ve promised the Halloween gods a sacrifice as long as they relent on this one thing.  You don’t dare glance back at Steve.

When Tommy calls out your name, the living room explodes and your heart skips a beat.  Robin hollers beside you like her team just won the Super Bowl.

“I don’t know about this,” you tell Tommy, suddenly overwhelmed not by the prospect of getting into the closet with Steve, but with everyone knowing you’re in there with him.

You think about chickening out.  You still can’t look at Steve.  You don’t want to see what’s playing over his face, fearing that it’s going to look something like regret.  You also don’t want to admit that you most definitely want to kiss him, but also maybe vomit. 

Tommy points to the closet, “Rules are rules.  My hands are tied.”

“There are no rules,” you fire back, “You wrote names in a notebook from somebody’s junk drawer.  This is a childish game.”

“This is a right of passage,” he poses.

Robin plants both hands on your shoulders and starts steering you forward through the crowd, “Go smooch the dingus.  It’s your destiny.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.  You’ll thank me later.”

Steve gets shoved from the other side by some of the football team.

“This is harassment,” he announces as the two of you are deposited at the door of the closet.

Someone opens it.  It’s small, dark, and full of coats and old board games.  For a moment, the cacophony around you fades and all you can do is look into Steve’s eyes.

He glances down at you, his lip twitching, “You wanna run?”

You almost say yes, but you hesitate.  You don’t want to run.  You just don’t want to let him and everyone else know how eager and utterly terrified you are.  The sound of the onlookers returns.

Then Robin yells, “I never thought I’d say this, but get your asses in the closet!”

The crowd chants your names.

You square your shoulders, no chickening out, “After you, Harrington.”

He gives a mock bow, “As you wish.”

You step inside together and the door slams shut behind you.  It’s almost completely dark except for the strip of light coming through the crack at the bottom of the door.  The sounds of the party are muffled behind the wood, but you can still hear Tommy when he says, “Setting a timer for seven minutes, lovebirds!”

Neither of you speaks for a couple of seconds.

“Well,” Steve finally says into the dark, “this might end up being incredibly stupid.”

You let out a nervous laugh, “You think?”

“Definitely.  Someone gave Tommy authority.  That’s already a bad start.”

“I think Tommy gave himself authority.”

“Sounds about right.”

You can hear him shifting closer, trying to be careful in the cramped space.  His chest brushes up against yours anyway.  Your breath hitches slightly.

“You know,” he begins, sensing your tension, “we don’t actually have to do anything.”

Relief hits you first, but annoyance hits you harder.

“Rejecting me so quickly, Harrington?”

He laughs, but it sounds wrong, “That’s not what I meant.”

“That’s what it sounded like.”

“Neither of us came in willingly,” he mutters.

“Speak for yourself,” you scoff.

There’s a pause.

“Y-you want to kiss me?”

“I can think of worse people to share my first kiss with.”

“Hm,” is his only reply.

Your eyes are adjusting to the darkness and you can see him looking down on you with an almost tender look in his eyes.  He reaches out to brush a piece of stray wig hair behind your ear.

“You nervous?” he asks.

You probably should be.  Maybe you are a little bit.  It’s hard to quantify.

He’s dressed as The Dread Pirate Roberts and you’re dressed as Princess Buttercup.  You’ve been shoved into a closet by horny and drunk teenagers.  The situation is admittedly ridiculous.  

“No,” you tell him.

You are most definitely nervous, and you know Steve can tell.  He can probably feel your heart pounding.

“Liar.”

You open your mouth to argue, but he’s shifted more, and the two of you are basically plastered together.  You can feel him in the dark as he takes off the stupid mask he insisted he wear.  He’s warm and you can smell his cologne.  He’s oozing the stupid easy confidence he wears like a jacket.  It’s basically permeating the space around you.

Your heartbeat kicks up a notch.

“What about you?” you ask, “You nervous?”

He’s quiet for a second, then he takes a deep breath, “You have to know.”

He places his hands on your waist because there’s not much room for them to go anywhere else.

“Know what?”

“That I like you.”

“Oh.”

You suspected as much, or at least Robin tried to convince you of it, but you never thought you’d actually hear him admit it.

“How am I supposed to know, Steve?  I’ve seen you flirt with half this town.”

“That’s fair.”

“You were kind of notorious.”

“Yeah, well,” his voice drops and you can feel his breath against your ear, “this is different.”

You can feel the pressure of his hands on your skin.  Goosebumps erupt on your arms as you raise them to set them on his shoulders.

You go to speak and your throat goes dry, “Different how?”

He doesn’t answer right away.  When your fingers curl around the back of his neck, he exhales like he’s been holding his breath.

“Different because I just threatened Tommy within an inch of his life to make sure we got picked together.  I knew how nervous you were that you’ve never been kissed.  Different because I’ve had a crush on you for months.  Different because you’re the first person I look for when I walk into a room.  Different because I spent a long time convincing myself I shouldn’t say anything because of how you felt about Munson.  But lately I’ve been feeling like maybe…” he peters off and looks down at you.  

You lower your arms, gripping his shirt.  Now it’s your turn to say something and you’re just going to go with it and let the chips fall where they may.  You’ve done this before.  You’ve had practice.

“You know,” you say, trying for steady and failing, “if we kiss now, Robin will be unbearable.”

“She already is.”

“Good point.”

For a second, all you can hear are your joined breaths.

Then, Steve breaks the silence.  He’s all softness and no swagger, “Can I?”

Your stomach flips.  Nobody has ever asked you that before.  And certainly no one has ever looked at you the way Steve is looking at you now.  You know that with him, your answer actually matters.

You smile.  You have no retort or quippy comeback, you just nod.

“I need the words, sweetheart.”

“Yes, Steve, I want you to kiss me.”

His shoulders relax immediately from where he’s been holding them tight.  He doesn’t give you a chance to overthink it.  His lips brush yours.  He kisses you gently at first, just the soft pressure of his lips on yours, his hands coming up to cradle your face.

It’s nothing dramatic like you’ve seen on TV or read in books.  There’s just you, and there’s just Steve.  And it’s so fucking sweet it almost makes you want to cry.

When he pulls back, neither of you move very far, but his hands slide from your face, to brush down your arms and settle at your waist, like he’s anchoring the two of you together.  

“So?” he asks.

You can’t help the blush that starts painting your cheeks.

“So.”

“Was that stupid?”

You can’t even pretend to consider it, “Not stupid at all, Harrington.”

His hands around your waist clench and he pulls you closer.  He laughs against your mouth and kisses you back harder, one hand at your waist, the other moves up to cradle your jaw.  His tongue gently swipes over your lips, and you know he’s asking for permission.  You give it to him, and suddenly his tongue is gliding along yours.  He moans in the back of his throat and you involuntarily buck against him.

“Sweetheart,” he groans. 

The room outside could be on fire for all you care.  The only thing you can concentrate on is the wet slide of his tongue as he lets you learn how to kiss him.  

When you finally break apart, both of you are breathing too fast.  Steve rests his forehead against yours.

“So,” you murmur, “we’re still sure this isn’t stupid?”

“I think we need to test it some more,” Steve says right before he captures your lips again.

He presses you up against what feels like a wool coat and his hands shift from your waist to your hips.  Your hands reach up and you card your fingers through his hair.  He groans again as his lips trail from yours, down your jaw to your neck.  He licks over your pulse and you gasp.

“Steve,” you say in a voice you barely recognize as your own.

You can feel him smile against your skin.  He’s gently nipping at your neck when someone pounds heavily on the door.

“I hope you’re decent!” Tommy calls out before he abruptly swings it open. 

“Where’d Sunny go?” Eddie asks, looking around for your red dress.

Robin points down the hall to the closet, “She’s in heaven.”

“What are you on about, Buckley?”

“Sunny – she’s in heaven, with Steve.  I’d say they have about a few minutes left to go.”

Eddie’s brain short circuits for half a second while it makes the leaps to comprehend what Robin just told him.  You and Steve are in the closet, most likely making out.  At Tina’s party.  Where everyone knows what you’re doing.

He can admit to himself that he never in a million years thought that was something you’d do.  You just didn’t seem like the type to join in on a game like that.

“I can see the confusion on your face, Munson.  What’s going on in that brain of yours?”

“I guess I just didn’t think that Seven Minutes in Heaven was Sunny’s thing.”

“If it’s any consolation, I don’t think it is.  I was the one who put her name in there.  I put Steve’s in there, too.  Although, I’m pretty sure they were both happy with the outcome,” Robin tells him with a smirk like she’s pleased with herself, “I told her I was getting her kissed tonight.”

“Huh?”  Eddie’s a bit confused.

“You did know that your best friend has never been kissed, correct?”

“Uh…”

“I’m gonna take that as a no,”

“You would be right.”

“I’m sorry.  I figured you knew,” Robin admits, “She was starting to become terrified that her first kiss was going to be some big, embarrassing thing.  Steve knew that, and I’m pretty sure he cornered Tommy in the kitchen and laid down the law.”

Steve knew.  The thought hits Eddie somewhere in that part of his gut that lately seems reserved only for you.  And not only because Steve knew something Eddie didn’t, but because Steve cared enough to do something about it.

Eddie wracks his brain trying to recall the last time you talked about something personal – something that wasn’t about school, Hellfire, band, or trying to plan hanging out.  He comes up empty.  Zero.  Zilch.

Were you embarrassed?  Did you think he would look at you differently?

There was a time that he could say that he knew everything about you.  He was even there the day you started your period.  You were at the trailer and Uncle Wayne took you to buy pads.  But this is something he knew nothing about.

But Robin knew.  Steve knew.  He was pretty sure Vickie knew.  And Eddie, your supposed best friend, hadn’t the slightest clue.

He glances toward the closet door that’s still closed.  People are laughing and dancing and talking over one another.  Eddie barely hears any of it.  Instead, he finds himself wondering how many other conversations have happened without him.

How many late-night drives has he missed?  How many inside jokes have formed?  How many fears and triumphs have you shared with someone else because he just wasn’t there?

He can’t blame Steve, and it’s not your fault either.  Friendships can’t last if only one person keeps showing up.

He’s trying to figure out how everything started changing without him noticing.  It’s in that moment that he realizes he’s taking this harder than he should be.

Way harder.

It doesn’t make a bit of damn sense.

He’s standing in the middle of Tina’s living room with Chrissy fucking Cunningham.  She’s the girl he spent the majority of high school crushing on.  She lets him make out with her.  Lately she’s been letting him do even more.

He should be thinking about her, and what they’re going to do after the party.  Instead, he’s wondering how Steve ended up learning things about you he never knew.  The realization makes him feel sick.  Not because of you.  Because of Chrissy.

He drags a hand down his face.

Jesus fucking Christ.

What in the actual hell is wrong with him?  Chrissy hasn’t done anything wrong.  She’s spent the whole night right beside him, listening to Gareth and Jeff’s idiotic conversation, laughing at stupid jokes, squeezing his hand every time he started drifting away.

She deserves his attention.  She deserves all of it.  But he’s spent the majority of the night watching you and Steve.  Watching the two of you laugh and tease and become…whatever you are becoming.  Guilt pushes against that spot in his gut that holds you and consumes it.

You’re here with your girlfriend, he tells himself, You’re happier than you’ve ever been.  You love her.  Don’t you?

The answer comes to him immediately.

Of course he does.  Chrissy is funny and kind and gorgeous.  She makes him feel like he’s not a screw-up.  He can never remember a time when he didn’t want Chrissy Cunningham.

So why does his chest ache and his gut churn when he thinks about watching you and Steve walk into Tina’s damn linen closet?  He can’t find an explanation that makes sense.  The only answer he allows himself to land on is one that feels almost too obvious – because he misses his best friend.

Somewhere between making out in the back of his van with Chrissy after school and trying to build a relationship with her, you’d drifted.  You haven’t exactly replaced him, but you’ve latched on to someone who’s there.

If that causes him pain, he feels like maybe he’s earned it.

Steve links his fingers with yours before the two of you can step out.

As Tommy moves out of the way, everyone turns – literally everyone – and the room goes silent for a second.  You step out first, fingers still linked with Steve’s, and he emerges directly behind you.  

Steve, who is usually the coolest guy in any room, is suddenly very interested in staring directly at the floor, trying so hard to look normal when there’s no way for the two of you to look normal.  You just exited a closet where everyone knows you kissed.

You are trying valiantly to suppress the smile that you can feel stretching across your face, but it’s no good.  

Tommy, ever the instigator, takes one look at the two of you and practically shouts, “Oh my god!”

The room explodes with shouts of raucous encouragement, and Steve gives your hand a squeeze.

Robin comes up to your side and nudges you gently with her elbow, “I guess we got you kissed after all.”

Steve looks up, and it’s a big mistake, because now everyone can see the stupid grin on his lips.

“There it is!” Tommy shouts.

“Shut the fuck up, Hagan!”

“There it is!”

“No!”

“That’s the face…”

“Lower your voice.”

“The face of a man who bagged his lady!”

Steve looks ready to commit a murder.

“I didn’t bag shit, Hagan.”

“Let me put it another way,” Tommy begins, “Steve and Sunny sittin’ in a tree.  K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

Eddie hasn’t said a word at all.  Not a single one.  Chrissy notices, because of course she does.  She’s standing right next to him when the closet doors open, when he sees you and Steve walk out with linked fingers.  She’s standing right next to him when the small crowd starts cheering.  She’s standing right next to him as Steve looks at you like you’re the only person in the room.  She’s standing right next to him as you look away from Steve with a blush on your face and your eyes meet Eddie’s.

You smile shyly, Eddie smiles back, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.  

Robin grabs at you and Steve and pulls you off somewhere where people are no longer staring at you.  

Eddie doesn’t remember much of the next half hour.

He remembers Tommy crowing like he’d personally orchestrated the greatest love story in Hawkins history, which hell, maybe he did.  He remembers you and Steve showing back up on the dance floor, ignoring all of the searching eyes.  He remembers Steve trying and failing to suppress the smile on his face.

Chrissy found his hand more than once.  Each time he squeezed it back.  Each time, guilt twisted a knot in his stomach.  Because she deserved more than half his attention.

The party thins out.  People talk about hitting up Benny’s before it closes.  A few people drift toward the front door, others linger in the kitchen nursing the last of their now-flat beers.

Across the room, Eddie catches one last glimpse of you.  Steve’s helping you untangle your dress from the buckle on his boot while you both laugh like it’s the funniest thing in the world.

It’s such a small thing.  The kind of thing that he wouldn’t have noticed a week ago.  It seems like he’s noticing everything tonight.

Chrissy slips her fingers through his.

“You ready to go?”

Eddie looks down at her, “Your chariot awaits.”

He follows her out into the cool October night and sets her delicately in the passenger seat.

The drive is once again quiet.  This time he might even be able to call it a bit uncomfortable.  Glowing pumpkins on front porches blur past as the radio plays “Monster Mash.”

Chrissy is waiting.  He can’t think of anything to say. She sighs.

“Are you ready to tell me what that was about tonight?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

It’s not exactly a lie.  She could be talking about any number of things.

“Do you like her, or something?”

He doesn’t have to ask who she’s talking about.

“It’s not like that.”

“Then what’s it like, Eddie?  You’ve been acting weird since last night.”

Eddie grips the steering wheel tighter.

“I’m sorry.  I know you mentioned it last night, but I guess I just had no clue how to talk to you about this without it coming out wrong.”

“Without what coming out wrong?”

“I just miss my best friend,” he lets the words out with a slow breath.

Chrissy’s face turns thoughtful for a second before she asks, “Are you jealous of Steve?”

His mind is still all jumbled up from all the thoughts that flew through his head tonight, but he has to give her something.

“Not in the way you think.  I guess I just didn’t realize how much I miss her.  When we talked last night, I thought I did.  I thought I had it figured out.  Then we’re all at this party together. I saw her for maybe five minutes.  And it has nothing to do with you.  I love hanging out with you.  And it’s not Sunny’s fault either.  I haven’t been there like I used to be.  She has every right to spend time with whoever she wants to spend time with.  I think I’m just jealous of the fact that all of the stuff she and I used to do together, she’s doing with someone else.”

“And this has nothing to do with the fact that you watched her walk out of a closet tonight after she shared her first kiss with Steve Harrington?”

“It wasn’t about her kissing Steve, I swear!  It was mostly because I felt like an asshole that I didn’t even know she’d never been kissed, but Robin and Steve did.  The conversation basically inferred that they have a crush on each other, and I guess I was just a little overwhelmed by the influx of information and all the stuff I don’t know about my supposed best friend.”

Chrissy nods, taking it all in.  Her face grows contemplative and it’s a second before she speaks again.

“And you’re sure it’s not because you have feelings for her?”

Chrissy has every right to ask that question after the way he behaved tonight.

“I don’t have feelings for her in the way you mean.  I love Sunny, I’ll be completely honest with you.  I can’t remember a time when she hasn’t been there for me.”

Chrissy scrunches her brows.  It’s usually hard for other people to understand his relationship with you if they don’t know how the two of you are together.  They can hear the stories, but if they’ve never witnessed it, it’s hard to explain.

“I’m always going to love her.  But it’s not in a romantic way.  That’s saved for only one girl, and that’s you, Chris.”

Chrissy has been looking down at her hands, and now she looks up at him with skepticism in her eyes.

“What do you mean by that, Eddie?”

“What do you think I mean?”

“I just asked you if you had feelings for your best friend, babe.  Maybe now’s not the time to tease me.”

“You’re right.  I’m just gonna come out and say it,” he takes a deep breath.  This wasn’t what he had planned for the night, but it seems like maybe now is the perfect time.  

They’d gone to a party and not one time had anyone whispered the word “freak.”  She’d cuddled up to him all night and made sure that everyone knew she was his.  She was honestly worried that he could look at any other girl the way he looked at her.

Here goes nothing, Eddie thinks to himself before he makes the decision.  

He’s pulled up to the curb of Chrissy’s house once again.  This wasn’t exactly where he wanted to spill his guts, but fuck it. 

“I love you, Chrissy Cunningham.”

Chrissy’s eyes immediately go glassy, and for a heartbeat, she just stares at him.

“You – you picked now to tell me that?” she mutters with a laugh.

Eddie winces, “I know.  Uh, terrible timing.”

“The worst.”

“I can take it back and wait until tomorrow…”

Before he can finish, Chrissy is leaning toward him, one hand cupping his cheek.

“Don’t you dare take it back.”

He lets out the nervous breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

“I mean it.”

“I know you do,” she says as a tear slips down her cheek, “I’ve been waiting to hear you say it.”

She smiles and it takes his breath away.

“I love you too, Eddie.”

The words settle over him and for a moment he feels like he’s out of his body.  The knot in his chest eases a notch as he presses his forehead to hers.

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?”

“For yesterday.  For tonight.  For being in my head and letting you think I don’t worship the ground that you walk on.”

Chrissy’s thumb brushes across his cheek and a new quiet settles around them.  He’d love nothing more than to throw her in the back and kiss every inch of her, but at some point during their conversation, Mr. Cunningham appeared on the front porch.  And Mr. Cunningham isn’t his biggest fan.

“Your dad is staring at me.”

Chrissy giggles and presses a quick kiss to his lips before she pulls back and unbuckles her seatbelt.  She turns to him before she opens the door.

“I love you.”

He knows his smile is stretched obscenely across his face.

“I love you too.”

She gets out and practically hops down her front walkway to her door.  Her dad opens it and lets her inside before looking back at him for a second.  She turns to give him a little wave, but Mr. Cunningham ushers her inside and slams the door without looking back.

Eddie sighs and sits back in his seat.  He can’t really believe he just told Chrissy Cunningham that he loves her and she said it back.  He was planning on doing a whole romantic thing with flowers and candles and shit, but he couldn’t wait anymore.  He couldn’t let Chrissy get out of his van with doubts.

He does love her.  She’s perfect.  She’s his dream girl, as in he’s literally had dreams about her.

He takes out his phone because he’s bursting at the seams and he has to tell someone.  The first person he pulls up is you, and he’s about to push the call button before he realizes he has no clue what you’re doing.  He has no clue where you are.  

He knows you’re with Robin, Vickie, and Steve, but when the four of you are together, there’s no telling what you’ll get up to.  He doesn’t want to intrude or pull you away from anything.

He closes his phone and shoves it back in his pocket.  

I can wait until tomorrow.  He’s going to call you tomorrow and he’s going to make plans with just you.  He’s going to hang out with you and you’re going to fill him in on everything going on in your life, and he’s going to do the same thing with you.

And things are surely going to go back to normal.  He’ll fix it tomorrow.

Robin and Vickie have been safely delivered to their destination.  The only people in the BMW are you and Steve, and you can’t help but fidget in your seat.

Steve pulls up to your house and puts his car in park.  He turns off the radio and you sit for a minute in silence, neither of you daring to break it.  You’re aware of every movement that Steve makes – when he runs his hand through his hair, when he taps his finger on the steering wheel, when he takes a deep breath.

“So…” he begins.

“So…”

“We kissed.”

You nod, “Yeah, we did.”

His hands go to his lap and he turns in his seat to look at you.  You’ve never seen King Steve this nervous. 

“I really liked it.”

“I did, too,” you tell him with a smile.

“Good.”

He nods and looks down at his steering wheel.

Silence comes again as both of you try to think of the most appropriate thing to say.  You’ve never been in a situation like this and you’re unaware of the post-kiss protocol.

“Let me walk you to the door,” Steve says, then promptly gets out and rounds the hood of the car to open your door for you.

“Such a gentleman, Harrington,” you say as you take the hand he offers you.

Steve’s hand is warm as he helps you out of the car, but you let go of it just a second later.  Neither of you seems entirely sure of what you’re supposed to do.  The walk to your front porch is painfully short.

Steve shoves his hands into his jacket pocket.

“So…”

You laugh, “We already do the ‘so’ thing.”

“Yup.”

“I don’t think we can use it twice.”

He chuckles quietly.

Your feet hit the first step to your door, but you don’t want to go inside.  Not yet.

“I’ve never done this before,” you tell him quietly.

Steve’s expression softens immediately, “I think I like that.”

You step onto the step and he follows you without thinking.  He’s close enough that you can see the tiny freckles that scatter across the bridge of his nose.  He’s so close you can smell his cologne.  He’s close enough that your heart starts beating faster inside your chest.

“I’ve been trying to figure out what to say.”

You look into his eyes and let him know that you mean it, “You don’t have to say anything.”

“I know.  But I want to.”

You wait.  If the man wants to speak, you’re going to let him speak.

“I don’t want tonight to be about a Halloween party.”

“It’s not,” you tell him truthfully.

You were at a Halloween party, yes, but that was all background.  Right now, there’s nothing but Steve in the foreground.

“I don’t want our first kiss to be because Tommy Hagan and some football players shoved us into a closet.”

You can feel your face flush, “That’s not how I’m going to remember our first kiss.”

Steve smiles, “I want to take you out.”

Your breath catches.  This night is full of firsts and all of them with Steve Harrington.  You couldn’t make yourself be disappointed if you tried.

“I want you to take me out.”

He nods and moves that scant inch closer to you.

“We kissed.”

Your heart pounds against your ribs.

“We did.”

“And I’d really like to do it again.”

You can feel his breath on your cheeks.

“Same.”

He steps back, “But I’m not going to until I’ve taken you on a date.”

“Okay.”

You’re both relieved and disappointed.

“Somewhere where there are no closets.”

You laugh out loud, “Anywhere you want, Steve.”

“So that’s a yes.”

You nod so hard you almost chuck the wig right off of your head, “It’s definitely a yes.”

He lets out a relieved breath, “Shit.  I’ve wanted to do that for weeks.”

“Weeks?”

“Just ask Robin.”

“She’s going to be insufferable enough already,” you tell him as you perch yourself on the top step, “I’m not asking her that.”

From this vantage point, you can start down into Steve’s eyes and if you look long enough, you know you could find yourself lost in them.

“So what are you doing this Saturday?”

“Going on a date with you, Harrington.”

He gets on his toes and places a chaste kiss on your forehead before he steps back.

“I’ll pick you up at six?”

“I’ll be ready.”

You wait until he reaches his car before you go inside.  Halfway in, you turn and see him just standing there, watching you.  He’s making sure you get in safely.  You give him a wave and go inside.

Only after you close the front door does he finally get into the driver’s seat, wearing the unmistakable smile of someone who can’t wait for Saturday.

Notes: This took me forever to write because I didn't really know what direction I wanted to take it. I struggle with knowing how deep to go into Eddie's relationship with Chrissy. I'll try not to have so much time in between chapters again.

It’s been almost a month since you told Eddie that you love him, and it’s been nothing short of awkward.  It seems as if you’ve rearranged your whole life to avoid your best friend.  There have been no movie nights, you’ve only hung out in groups, and you haven’t been to the trailer at all.  He gave you the space you asked for – a full week of it before he contacted you – but you’re pretty sure it had more to do with his burgeoning relationship with Chrissy than you making the actual request.  They’ve gone out on several dates since their initial movie night, and you haven’t asked for any specifics.  

They haven’t made anything official yet, but you’ve seen the looks they give each other across the lunch room and a blind man could see the hickeys on his neck that he wears like badges of honor.  The first time you saw one, on the first day of school when he met you at your locker like he always does, you thought you were going to cry, but you’ve gotten surprisingly good at sucking it up.  Slowly but surely, everything hurts less and you’re getting used to the new normal where after almost two decades of friendship, you and Eddie are dancing around like you don’t know everything there is to know about one another.

The two of you don’t really talk about it.  He’s told you he’s sorry, you’ve forgiven him (you think), and now you’re trying to move past it.  You’re still friends, of course, you’re never not going to be friends, but the dynamics are changing.  It’s odd how quickly it’s shifted from him being the first person you contact about anything to having to weigh whether or not you’re even going to text him something.  

You’re still not completely comfortable with the situation.  You’re constantly nervous that every touch or look you give him could be misinterpreted as something untoward despite the fact that Eddie’s never done that once.  In fact, as far as you’re concerned, he seems a little touch starved.  Still, you don’t want to be that desperate girl vying for any bit of attention you can get from a guy who’s not interested in the same way.  Because of that, you haven’t spent any real time alone with him.  

Not that you’ve spent that much time with him recently at all.  You joined the first Hellfire afternoon of the school year with the rest of the boys and you went to the Hideout on the usual Tuesday to see Corroded Coffin play, but there haven’t been any solo movie nights or long, late night drives where all you do is listen to music and talk about random shit.  Plus, you’ve joined choir and marching band will be playing at football games starting on the upcoming Friday.  It’s the new normal and you hate it, but you’re adjusting, and for all you’ve seen, Eddie seems to be as well.

It helps that your mom is back home for a little while, at least.  You and your mom may not be especially close, but Eddie is like a second child to her.  She was in the delivery room when he was born.  It took her only seconds to clock the weirdness.  She knows the usual status quo as far as the two of you are concerned, being that you two are generally attached at the hip.  As soon as she walked in the front door after her latest business trip, she asked where he was because you were in the living room watching TV and Eddie wasn’t by your side.  She noticed the look on your face and immediately asked what happened.

You gave her the whole tale and she did something very unusual for her, and she stayed quiet the whole time until you finally finished.  She isn’t really shocked that you’re in love with him.  She told you that she always wondered.  She is shocked, much like Robin and Steve, that he doesn’t share your feelings.  It is almost like rubbing salt in the wound when she tells you that she always thought that Eddie was sweet on you, and that she and Elizabeth Munson had dreamed that one day you and Eddie would get together and get married so they would share grandbabies.  You think your mom is almost as disappointed as you.

She is ecstatic and surprised about you joining the choir, though, and deciding to take some space from the constant togetherness.  Choir was something she did in high school, and despite her eternal love for Eddie, she’s glad that you’re doing things outside of your relationship with him.  She’s always been afraid that you would end up like she did.  She fell in love with a man to distraction, she got knocked up, they got married, and then he disappeared.  It wasn’t that she thought Eddie would ever do a thing like that, but the whole situation left her unable to fully trust any man.  That’s why she constantly flitted from one romance to the next.  She wanted you to live a life based on your choices and dreams – always harping on you to get out of your comfort zone and make new friends.

That’s why she especially enjoys discussing your newest friend, Steve Harrington.  When she came home after work one day to see him watching TV with you and Robin in the living room, her eyes got as wide as saucers.  She motioned for you to join her in the kitchen and immediately started giving you the third degree about him, mentioning his hair no less than five times.  She was always a sucker for a man with good hair.  She then proceeded to loudly inform you that she had to take her car to the shop to get something fixed.   She suggested that you ask Steve if he could bring you to and from school, which he immediately agreed to with a smile.  You’re pretty sure your mom ended up with a crush on him by the end of the conversation.

Which isn’t hard to believe, because Steve is great.  He is just shy of perfect.  You’re good friends with Steve to be sure, but lately you’ve spent more time with him than you ever have before, and you’re starting to notice things – things that make you think you might be going a little crazy.

You’ve never known Steve to be a touchy person, not with you at least.  He’s given you the occasional high five and side hug, but now you’re noticing arms stretched across your shoulders, hands at the small of your back, full frontal hugs where your chests meet, and the most confusing of all, the forehead kiss.

Steve had you and Robin, Vickie, Nancy and Jonathan over for a movie night.  You and Steve shared the couch while the two sets of couples sat in the adjacent love seats.  Halfway through the second movie, you felt yourself nodding off, head grazing Steve’s shoulder over and over again until one time, you didn’t lift it up.  When you woke up, you were leaning heavily into Steve’s side, your ear resting against his heartbeat.  He’d wrapped an arm around your shoulder, and as you started to wake up all you could think about was how warm you were and how good he smelled – like an old leather jacket, citrus fruit and fresh cracked pepper.  He felt you shift as you woke up and he smiled down at you.

“Did you have a nice nap?”

You nodded into his chest, and god help you, you snuggled into him.

It all happened so quickly that you could almost say that it was something you made up in your sleep-addled mind, but as you burrowed into him, you felt the soft press of his lips against your forehead.  It was barely a brush, but your forehead tingled for fucking hours afterward.

You’re not really sure that you can talk to Robin about it – not yet, because you aren’t really sure how you feel about it.  And Steve is her best friend.   And you're supposed to be in love with Eddie, so why is Steve making you tingly?  

Because he’s hot and funny and sweet and things aren’t the same with Eddie anymore…

It’s one hundred percent, most definitely not something you can or want to talk to Eddie about.  You’d rather be drawn and quartered.  Your mom also isn’t an option because you know that she would just tell you to go for it no matter the consequences.  So, all of these Steve thoughts and feelings are just rolling around in your head like a pinball that hasn’t found its hole yet, pinging back and forth, over and over.

A honk from outside catches your attention.  It’s Steve and Robin, right on time.  They’re on day two of picking you up for school, and even though you miss your car and routine, you have to admit that it’s fun.  Robin constantly annoys Steve by switching the song on the stereo every thirty seconds and Steve yells at her with no heat in his voice, hiding a smile the entire time.  Robin opens up her snack foods and tries to throw them so you catch them in your mouth, and Steve complains loudly about getting the beamer dirty.  You enjoy being a part of their dynamic.  If you’ve ever met platonic soulmates, it’s the two of them.

You grab your stuff and run out of your door like a shot.  Steve’s BMW is parked next to your car when you step out.  Robin is sitting in the passenger seat waving at you wildly like maybe you can’t see them.

“It’s Thursday, baby!” she hollers out the window as you open the door directly behind Steve.

“Hold it down, Buckley, Jesus!” Steve cringes at Robin’s volume.

You slide into your seat and shut the door.  The car smells like Steve’s cologne – that lovely worn leather jacket sprayed with something citrusy and peppery smell – and coffee.

“I’m just excited,” she says as she presses an iced coffee in your hands.

You beam at her, “Thank you.”

“Thank Steve.  He insisted we stop at  Myrtle’s on the way.  He said we had to be caffeinated.  He was not happy with our attitude yesterday morning.”

“Thanks Stevie,” you smile at him brightly, catching his eyes in the rearview mirror.

“No thanks needed.  I know how the two of you were when you didn’t have your coffee first thing yesterday.  I will not submit the student body of Hawkins to that kind of torture again.”

You sigh and lean back against the seat as Steve pulls out onto the road.  You take a sip of your iced coffee, and of course it’s perfect – just the way you like it – and Myrtle’s Cafe is your favorite.

“You’re the best,” you tell him as you reach out to pat his shoulder.  You see his mouth quirk in the mirror.  Maybe a blush.

“Are we still on for this afternoon?” Robin asks as she starts scrolling through her playlists looking for the perfect one to start the morning.

Robin and Steve have had enough with Scoops Ahoy and are looking for new jobs.  Your boss Randy mentioned something about needing new people since some of his employees have left for college, so you mentioned it to them and they were completely on board.  You had a quick chat with Randy, and you just so happen to be his favorite employee, so he was happy to interview them both.  You knew they didn’t want to be separated, and you would honestly love nothing more than to have them as coworkers.

“Of course, and I hyped you both up, so don’t let me down.”

Steve turns to give Robin a sharp look.

“What?  I’m great with interviews.”

“No you’re not!  During your interview at Scoops the manager asked you what one of your weaknesses was, you told him that you were lactose intolerant but you could tolerate it for a paycheck.”

You can’t help but laugh.  That sounds like Robin.

“We can’t all be as charming as you, Harrington,” she tells him with a roll of her eyes.  She continues to scroll through her playlists.

“You both have my seal of approval, and Randy loves me, so I don’t think either of you have anything to worry about.  You basically only have to show up, be able to use a cash register and the job is yours.  The only thing you have to ask yourself is if you’re up to spending even more time with me.”

“Oh to have a coworker other than Steve,” Robin sighs wistfully, “It is the dream.”

“Get off it, Robs, if I wasn’t your coworker, who would take you to work?  To school?  To the movies?  To Benny’s?  I’m basically your personal chauffeur.”

You love watching them bicker, and you also love to egg it on, “I think he’s on to something, Birdie, and at some point, we’re gonna have to get you a driver’s license.”

“Pssh,” she makes a noise through her lips as she turns fully in her seat to look at you, “Why would I do a foolish thing such as that when I can mooch off of you two and Vickie for the rest of my life?”

“I told you that I’d teach you,” Steve says as he comes to such an abrupt stop at a stop sign that Robin has to brace herself on the dash.

The look that Robin gives him is full of skepticism as she adjusts herself against her seat belt and taps the dash giving him a look of disbelief in his teaching capabilities, “Okay dingus.  Who taught you to drive?”

“My dad.  What of it?”

“Other than the whiplash?  Nothing,” she turns to you, “Who taught you to drive?  You’ve never subjected me to grievous bodily harm.”

You give her a little smile at the memory that pops into your head, “Eddie’s Uncle Wayne.  He said I was the best young driver he’s ever taught, but I don’t know if it means much since the only other young driver he’s ever taught was Eddie.  I did nail parallel parking, though.”

Uncle Wayne had taken you out to learn in the van that now belongs to Eddie.  She was an unwieldy bitch to maneuver with laughable power steering, but you’re pretty sure that after learning in that monstrosity that you could drive anything.

“Can you parallel park?” Robin probed Steve.

“It’s Hawkins.  When am I ever going to parallel park?”

“I would choose Sunny,” Robin says with a decisive nod and Steve scoffs, “but neither of you have to worry about it because I’m not planning on learning anytime soon.  I quite enjoy being a passenger princess.”

“I can’t lie, I’m enjoying it too.  Curated music, iced coffee, witty banter.  You wanna start driving me around everywhere as well, Stevie?” you ask as you slide up near his seat so you’re closer to his head.

He glances at you in the rearview and his smile stretches across his face, “Can do, sweetheart.”

You feel your cheeks flush at his admission as you shift back into your seat.  Maybe he didn’t mean for it to come out as flirty as it did, but this man has you about to giggle like a schoolgirl. 

You’ve never giggled like a schoolgirl.  You aren’t frequently flirted with, the only person who may have even tried is Jeff, but Steve has been doing it a lot more often lately (at least you think), and you aren’t exactly sure what you are supposed to do.  You have no real experience with this type of situation.

You sit back and Robin gives you a sideways glance.  She’s not being shy about telling you you’re going to be talking about this later nonverbally.  She keeps wagging her eyebrows as Steve pulls up in front of the school.  Whether Steve notices or not, you can’t be sure.

“You’re welcome for arriving safely,” he says sarcastically as he shifts into park.

“Thanks dad,” Robin responds mockingly as she hops out and Steve just rolls his eyes.

You move closer to his seat again, right next to his ear, “I really appreciate, Stevie.”

He turns to look at you and your noses almost brush, “I’m happy to do it.”

You’re so close you can see the green flecks in his hazel eyes and you have to blink yourself out of a trance.

“Y-yeah.  I’ll see you a-after school.”

Steve chuckles as you let yourself out of the car and zip to catch up with Robin.

“I’ll be here when the two of you get out,” he calls out the window like a mother leaving her kindergarteners on the first day of school and you both wave him off with coffee cups in your hands.

Robin hooks her arm through yours and pulls you close to lead you into the building.

“What the hell was that?” she asks as you wind your way through the halls to her locker.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

It’s a lie, and you both know it.

“Don’t play coy with me.”  She stops abruptly in the middle of the hallway and you almost walk into her.

“That’s just Steve being Steve.”

“No offense, but you don’t know anything about Steve just being Steve.  That was Steve being flirty, and he’s been doing that a lot with you lately.”

“Steve’s a flirt,” you say in a voice that you hope is nonchalant and you shrug your shoulders. 

You honestly have no idea what to tell her.  It’s not like you hadn’t noticed him being flirty with you.  It’s also not like you hadn’t enjoyed him being flirty with you.  But you have no clue what it means.

She grabs your bicep as she begins to walk again, weaving you both through the crowd until you’ve reached her locker.  She leans against it casually, but the conversation is anything but.

“Yeah, he’s a flirt, but something happened at the beginning of the summer and he’s been completely off his game.  Every girl that came into Scoops – it was a complete crash and burn.  Lately, with you, this boy has been on fire, in a good way.  I’ve seen the looks and the touches.  And don’t think for one second I didn’t see the forehead kiss.  I was letting it go before that, but after that kiss, and after he was adamant that we stop at Myrtle’s this morning to get you coffee, I can’t ignore it any longer.”

Robin had mentioned it was Steve’s idea to stop and get coffee, but he was doing it just for you?  That’s so fucking thoughtful, and sweet, and as you’ve come to learn, that is so Steve.  You are in trouble.

“Ignore what?”  You aren’t sure you want to know the answer to that question.  You can’t have yet another boy out there whose feelings you’re unsure of.

She raises an eyebrow at you, “Steve likes you.”

“No he does not.”

She knocks her head back dramatically against the metal locker door with a bang, then points to herself, “Who am I?”

“Uh, Robin Buckley?”

She makes a sound like a buzzer going off and you almost jump, “Wrong!  I’m Steve Harrington’s best friend.  I know that boy.  Do you know when he started being unable to flirt?”

You shake your head and she points a finger at you.

“It was right after you told us that you love Eddie and we said you needed to tell him.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“I have a theory,” she says as she turns to her locker and quickly starts working the lock.

“That being?”

“Steve’s got a crush on you.  That’s not the theory, that’s fact.  My theory is that you told us, Steve realized that he likes you and freaked out because we both thought Eddie was head over heels for you,” you wince a little at that admission, but she’s not wrong, “you told Eddie,  Steve thinks he’s lost his chance so his flabbers get all gasted, Eddie didn’t return your feelings, Steve realizes he still has a chance.”

“What does that have to do with him being unable to flirt?” you ask as you take a long draw of coffee through the straw.

“I thought he was unable to flirt.  Turns out he’s only unable to flirt with anyone who’s not you because you’re the only one really on his radar.  He hasn’t gone on a single date in a month, not since everything went down with you and Eddie.  I think the man is biding his time.”

“Biding his time for what?”

“When you’re ready to fall in love with someone who isn’t Eddie.”

You go to take another sip and almost choke on your coffee, “What?  There’s no way.”

“What are you talking about?  Of course there is.”

She looks at you like you’ve grown two heads.

“But he’s Steve,” you can only mumble against your straw.

“Of that I am well aware,” she affirms as she starts grabbing things from her locker.

“Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.  King of Hawkins High,” you assert. 

“Correction, he used to be those things.  After Nancy broke up with him, he changed.  You know that.  He collected a whole gaggle of kids for Christ’s sake.”

“I know, but still, I’m just…”

“Just what?”

“Sunny.”

“Yeah, babe.  I know.”  

Robin slams her locker shut with so much force that you almost jump back.

She says the sentence to you with no confusion, like it all makes perfect sense.  But it makes no sense.  Why the hell would Steve Harrington like you?  You’re the weird girl who plays saxophone, sits at the Hellfire table during lunch, and plays Dungeons and Dragons with teenage delinquents in her spare time.  You have never been, nor will you ever be cool, not like the girls you’ve seen Steve date.  They are all delicate creatures with perfect hair and perfect makeup and perfect outfits.  

The only exception in Steve’s dating life has been Nancy Wheeler.  Nancy made him work for her affections.  Steve didn’t just casually date and hook up with Nancy, he fell in love with her, and in doing so he started to change.  Everyone was surprised that the changes stuck even after Nancy broke up with him.

But those character developments don’t mean he’s still not Steve Harrington.  He’s one of the most handsome people you’ve ever seen in person.  He’s funny and sweet and such a loyal friend.  And dammit, you don’t need to be thinking about Steve’s eyes catching yours in the rearview mirror and how he looked at you not even five minutes ago.

You shake your head and peer down at your phone, the bells about to ring.  You don’t have time or the inclination to dissect this with her right now.

“We can talk about this later.  I have to get my books and head to first period.  I’ll see you in Mrs. Click’s class later.”

“I’m letting you off the hook right now because I need to find my girlfriend, but we will finish this,” she says as she heads off to find Vickie.

You can’t say you’re super excited about the prospect, but you are relieved to know that you haven’t been imagining things.  Steve is flirting with you, and you suppose you’ve been flirting back.  It even seems like Robin is cool with it.  What you’re going to do with that…you’re just going to have to decide that later because class is about to start.

As you sprint toward your locker, you see the frizzy head of curls that is Eddie there waiting for you.

“Dude, I didn’t see your car in the parking lot,” he greets, and you shove your bag and coffee into his hands.  You immediately start on the combination lock and grab what you need.

“Yeah, Steve took me to school this morning.  My mom’s car is in the shop so she’s borrowing mine.”

Eddie frowns.  He looks a little hurt.  You can guess why.

“Why didn’t you ask me to pick you up?”

It’s what you usually would’ve done.  But things aren’t like they usually are.

“Steve was there when mom told me and he offered, and it’s easier anyway.  He has to drive by my house to get to the school, and he’s already picking up Robin.”

“What was Steve doing at your house?”

The question takes you back a little.  It’s no secret that you and Steve have gotten closer in the past few weeks.  It’s also no secret that Eddie has always had some sort of problem with Steve, but you’ve never figured out what or why.  It doesn’t give Eddie the right to question you about anything.  You are most definitely not Eddie’s property nor do you have to answer to him for anything.

“Robin and Steve were over watching TV.  If I recall, I invited you over, but you and Chrissy were on a date,” you tell him with a pointed look and he has the audacity to look sheepish.

“Oh.”

You take your things back from him, shove your purse over your shoulder and start to bolt down the hallway toward class.  Eddie’s longer legs make it easier to keep stride with you.

“I need to ask you something,” he says with a bump to your shoulder.

“What did you need?” you ask with a little more heat than you intended.

“Well, tomorrow is Friday…” he trails off.

“Indeed it is.”

“And Friday is movie night.”

You’re a little shocked he mentions it.  You haven’t had a Friday movie night since the night of your confession.

“Football games start up tomorrow.  I have marching band, so it’ll be a late night.  You sure want to do a movie night?” you ask as your turn into Mrs. Wakefield’s chemistry class.

“I do if you do,” he says as he follows you to the table you share because even though things have been weird, you’re obviously lab partners.

“What about Chrissy?  I figured you’d have something planned with her after.”

He shakes his head vigorously and purposefully, curls flying to hit you in the face, “Friday nights are sacred.”

You’re willing to play along if he is, “Okay, I’m in, but I’m picking the movie.”

He holds out his hand for you to grasp and you don’t hesitate to grab it.  He runs his calloused thumb over your knuckles before he gives you a firm shake.

“It wouldn’t be gentlemanly to do otherwise, m’lady.”

Chemistry class drones on the way it always does, with you trying to take notes while Eddie constantly interrupts you by showing you memes or writing ridiculous things in your notebook.  At least that part of your friendship hasn’t changed.

The rest of the day plays out relatively normally.  You’re spared an inquisition from Robin in Mrs. Click’s class because she actually decided to teach for the day instead of showing another antiquated history documentary.  Lunch is uneventful except for the boys begging Eddie for campaign crumbs and him ignoring their pleas.  All of your other classes pass as they normally do, like a never ending torture.

Soon enough, the bell rings and you’re standing with Robin and Vickie in the parking lot as you wait for Steve to arrive.

“How about you sit up front?” Robin poses teasingly, and you know instantly that she’s talked about everything with Vickie when you notice Vickie’s smirk behind the stack of books she’s carrying.

“I totally think you should do that,” Vickie says with a barely contained laugh.

“Do what?” comes a question from behind you.  

It’s Eddie, and he wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you up against him. 

Robin isn’t shy about letting him in on the conversation even though you would like to sink into the pavement, “I think she needs to sit shotgun when Steve gets here.”

“Buckley, you’re going to willingly give up shotgun?  Why, pray tell?”

He wants to be in on the joke that he knows is being told and now Robin’s looking to you as if asking for permission.  You give her a little shake of your head.  You don’t even know how you feel about Steve yet, you don’t need Eddie getting in on it before you figure that out.

Robin doesn’t want to, you can tell from the gleam in her eye, but she obeys your request, “Sunny was feeling a little car sick this morning.  I think she’d feel a little better if she rode up front.”

“I’ve never known you to get car sick,” Eddie says as he gives your shoulders a little shake.  He gazes at you curiously, eyes carefully scanning your face, “Must be that lack of Metallica.”

“I think it’s because I’m not used to riding in luxury,” you tell him with a little chuckle that seems convincing enough.

“Are you saying my van isn’t the height of luxury and class?”  He tilts his head toward his green and white van that is ostensibly held together with Uncle Wayne’s prayers and a shit load of duct tape.

“The only thing that van is good for is hauling instruments and delinquents,” Robin replies and Eddie scoffs.

You’re thankful she knows you well enough to tell that you’re trying for a subject change even if Eddie isn’t picking up on it and she’s the one who brought it up in the first place.

Thankfully, Steve pulls up right in the knick of time, windows rolled down, music coming softly through the radio.

“Harrington!” Eddie proclaims, “The man of the hour.”

Eddie lets you go and comes around the side of the BMW to give the roof a few pats.

Steve just smiles awkwardly as he gets out of his car to join the group.

“Yeah?”

“We were just discussing your noble steed.”

“My steed?  What about it?”

Eddie saunters back over to you and wraps his arm around you again.  Steve follows him with his eyes, pointedly looking at Eddie’s arm around your shoulder.  You fight the sudden urge to shrug it off.

“What do BMWs go for these days?”

Eddie’s being his usual obnoxious self.  He likes to always bring up Steve’s privilege at the most inconvenient times.

“I couldn’t tell you, Munson, I know shit about cars.  You’re the mechanic, shouldn’t you know?”

For once, Robin isn’t ready to play referee between the boys, so she pulls you out from underneath Eddie’s arm and guides you toward the passenger door of Steve’s car.

“What’s this have to do with the price of tea in China?  We have places to go and people to see.  Sunny, you’ve got the front,” Robin cries as she gives Vickie a swift kiss on her cheek and all but throws herself in the back seat.  “Eddie, we have job interviews to get to.  We’ll see you later.”

You smile at her indulgently, but are a little surprised when you turn and Steve’s opening the car door for you.  Once again, you feel yourself blush and you hope no one clocks it.

“Thanks, Steve.”

“Of course,” he says, like the gesture is second nature, and you assume that for him it is.  He waits until you’re fully situated to shut the door for you.  

He’s always been a gentleman, you tell yourself, this isn’t anything special.

But you can’t deny that when you slide into the seat it feels nice.  You’re not used to the whole opening doors and walking on the outside of the sidewalk kind of stuff.  Robin pokes you from her seat in the back, but you studiously ignore it.

You’re pulling the seatbelt across your chest when Eddie pokes his head in through the window, his shaggy hair all up in your business.  His face is so close to yours you can feel his breath across your cheek.

“You two have interviews at Retrograde?  What about Scoops Ahoy?  You don't like the uniform big boy?” he asks Steve, making sure to swish his hair across your face.  One of Eddie’s favorite things to do is rib Steve about the Scoops uniform.

Steve gets in and starts the car ignoring Eddie’s last question, “Just looking for something new.  Trying to broaden our horizons.”

“And if we get the job with Sunny, then we get to spend all of our time together,” Robin remarks.

Eddie glares over your shoulder at the girl, “Don’t forget that she’s my best friend.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Robin quips.

Suddenly, Eddie grabs your face and plants a sloppy, wet kiss on your cheek, “Don’t go making any new best friends, Sunshine.”

He gives death glares to both Robin and Steve as you wipe his spit off the side of your face.  Not so long ago, a cheek kiss from Eddie would’ve sent you into orbit.

“Now I’m gonna smell like your spit you heathen!”

“You’ve smelled like worse, dude,” he tells you as he backs up and pushes himself off the car and waves, making his way to his van.

“What’s up Munson’s ass?” Steve asks as he turns the volume down on the stereo and pulls out onto the road, heading toward the Starcourt.

“I think he was a little jealous that you drove me to school,” you admit as you turn sideways so you can see both of them.

“I literally have to pass by your house on the way to school.”

“That’s what I said,” you throw your hands up in the air and let them land on the tops of your thighs with a slap, “I think he’s just used to always being the person I go to when I need something.  But I’m honestly glad you’re the one picking me up.  I can’t tell you what a relief it is to walk into school and be able to hear correctly out of both of my ears.  I like metal as much as the next person, but I don’t wanna have to get fitted for hearing aids in my mid-twenties.”

“Let the boy be jealous.  He’s had enough of your attention over the past seventeen years.  It’s about time he shared the wealth,” Robin comments as she checks herself over in her phone camera.

“That’s a sweet sentiment, Birdie, but you don’t have to butter me up.  I already put in a good word for you with Randy.”

You see Steve roll his eyes out of the corner of your vision.

“You don’t always have to be so self-deprecating, Sunny.  Robin’s right.  Eddie has monopolized your time long enough.”

Robin sits up and scoots over so she’s situated between your seat and Steve’s, “We’re the unholy trinity.  We cannot be separated.”

She glances over at Steve and he gives a solemn, “Amen.”  She then glances over at you and you smile, bowing your head and conceding with an “amen” of your own.

“Right now we have more important things to worry about besides Eddie Munson,” Robin begins, “We have interviews to nail.”

“Just be yourselves and I promise Randy will hire you.”

“That’s a good thing, because we put our two weeks in two weeks ago,” Steve remarks as he rounds a turn.

Robin throws herself back against the seat with a sigh, “I really can’t wait for all three of us to work together.  We’re going to have the best time.  Best senior year ever.”

You turn and smile back at her and when you angle back, Steve is looking at you.

“I agree,” he says as he pulls into the parking lot of the mall.

You will yourself not to blush as Steve finds a spot.

“You’ve already graduated, dingus,” Robin tells Steve with a roll of her eyes.

“Doesn’t mean it’s not going to be a great senior year.”

Your trio gets out and you lead them to Retrograde Entertainment.  It’s one of your favorite places in the world.  You’ve worked there since the day you turned sixteen.  They sold new and used music, movies, books, and all kinds of various games – pretty much anything a pop culture nerd could want.  There is just stuff everywhere and a constant stream of music playing softly over the storewide speakers.  

Randy Myers, the manager/owner, had dated your mom for a little bit and offered you a job as soon as he was able.  He was one of the few boyfriends your mom had that you actually liked.  You were brokenhearted when they parted ways.

You walk straight up to Randy’s office, Robin and Steve following closely behind, and give three quick knocks to his door.

He opens it quickly, almost as if he’d been waiting on you.  He really does need the help, so he might have been.  He had four graduating seniors that left and all the people he’d hired so far were duds.  

“These your friends?” Randy asks as he leans casually against the doorframe.

You give him a nod and turn to them, “Yeah, this is Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington.”  You point to each of them and they smile brightly, “Guys, this is my boss, Randy Myers.”

Randy is a wiry guy who is full of energy and spunk.  He hates being behind a cash register or stuck in his office.  Randy likes talking to people, he likes going out in search of new treasures for the store, and he likes to keep people on their toes.

“They aren’t gonna be like your other friend, are they?”  He eyes them up and down suspiciously.

“Who?”  You pretend you don’t know who he’s talking about.

“You know who – Mr. Pain-in-my-ass Munson who likes shit music and getting on my damn nerves.”

You pretend to be offended on Eddie’s behalf.

“Uh, no sir,” Robin pipes up, “I can guarantee you that we don’t like Metallica and we will do our utmost to not get on your nerves.”

“Highly doubt that last part, Sunshine over here gathers the oddest little ducklings,” he nods to you and backs into his office.  He waves a hand out to usher them inside, “But let’s go ahead and interview you anyway.”  He turns to you and with a cock of his head says, “Go ahead and get clocked in.  I promise I’ll be gentle.”

“You’re going to do great,” you tell them as they walk into Randy’s office together and he shuts the door.

You go to the breakroom and get clocked in.  Randy has you checking inventory, so you stow away your stuff in your locker after pulling out your employee lanyard, headphones and cell.  You queue up a playlist, grab the inventory sheets, and get to work.  It’s easy enough work and Randy never cares if you listen to music while you do it.  

You’re almost done going over the new shipment of vinyls when you feel a tap on your shoulder and you turn around to see Randy, Robin and Steve.  Everyone is grinning at you.

“Did they get the job?” you ask Randy and you pull out your earbuds.

“While I might regret hiring another marching band nerd and a guy who doesn’t know the lyrics to ‘Kokomo,’ they got the job.”

“Were the lyrics to ‘Kokomo’ relevant to the interview?”

“Extremely,” Randy deadpans.

Robin reaches toward you for a hug and you both jump up and down from excitement.  Randy and Steve just smirk at the two of you.

“Best boss ever!” you tell Randy, leaving Robin’s embrace to give him a hug as well.

“Yeah, yeah.  Get them new employee packets and make them lanyards,” Randy orders you good naturedly as he peels away from you before turning to Robin and Steve, “I’ll see you two Monday and we can add you to the schedule from there.”

They both smile and nod as Randy saunters back to his office.

You nudge Steve with your shoulder, “I knew you two would get the job.”

“Easiest interview ever,” Robin is practically bursting at the seams.

“Says the girl who knew the lyrics to ‘Kokomo’.”

“Randy likes his Beach Boys and he frequently plays them over the speakers.  You will be thoroughly educated over your tenure here,” you point to the cash register, “If you two want to follow me, I can get you all set up.”

You guide them up to the front counter where one of your co-workers is manning the register.  There are some quick pleasantries exchanged as you gather paperwork and lanyards for the two.

You hand them the packets, “Fill these out and bring them back.  You can just take these home to finish.  These lanyards have a key to your very own employee locker.  I’ll make cards with your names on them tonight.  You’re more than welcome to decorate them.”

You point to your own lanyard around your neck.  Inside the little clear cover dangling at the end is a plastic card with your name on it and your locker key.  There’s a Fleetwood Mac sticker next to your name and a few kitschy pins stuck in the fabric.  Eddie signed his name in Sharpie on the back because he said when he became famous one day, you were going to want his autograph.

“I’ll give you the grand tour tomorrow.  For right now, I think that’s all you need.”

“I’m so excited.  This is so much better than Scoops, and no uniform!” Robin practically squeals.

“Do you need a ride home tonight?” Steve asks, to which you give a shake of your head.

“No, my mom’s picking me up tonight.”

You can admit to yourself that you’re a little disappointed by that fact.

“Then I guess we’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning?” Steve queries.

You give him a quick nod, “Game day.”

“Our last first game day.”  Robin actually sounds a bit sad.

“Okay ladies, let’s not get emotional.  Come on Robs, let’s get you home.  Sunny, we’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes sir.”

You say your goodbyes and get back to work.  

Inventory keeps you busy for the rest of the shift, and the rest of the night goes smoothly.  Your mom picks you up right on time and by the time you’re home and your head hits the pillow, you’re out.

Friday goes along much like its predecessor, the only change being Robin leaving the front seat open for you.  Steve greets you with an iced coffee in the cup holder and you give him a grateful smile.  Eddie’s waiting for you at your locker to accompany you to chemistry.  You spend your lunch period in the auditorium with some of the other band members trying to get some last minute practice in.  

The day passes quickly and before you know it, you’re in the women’s locker room with the other female members of the band changing into your uniforms.  Everyone keeps bumping into each other and it smells like mothballs.  The uniforms are bulky and unwieldy.  You, Robin and Vickie are in a huddle, helping each other button and zip yourselves into the godawful green monstrosities.

“Steve’s going to be at the game tonight,” Robin mentions as casually as she can, arranging the hat on Vickie’s head.  You can tell she’s been waiting the whole day to release that little tidbit.

You try to give the pretense of not being interested, “Yeah?”

“He didn’t say it directly, but I know he’s coming to see you.  Are you finally gonna admit that you might have a little crush on him?”

“I’m not admitting anything.”

“You’re not denying it either,” Vickie says before her girlfriend has the chance to.

“Steve’s nice,” is your noncommittal reply.

You try to keep your voice low so the entirety of the locker room can’t hear your conversation.

“Steve’s nice to look at you mean,” Vickie gives you a tilt of her head and Robin scoffs like she’s offended, and playfully backhands her on the shoulder.  “What?  I might like girls, but I can appreciate when a boy is good looking.”

“Okay, fine.  Steve’s very nice to look at,” you admit, “And he brings me coffee in the morning, and he holds the door open for me, and he drives me to school.”

“And he wants to make out with you,” Robin sneaks in.

“I think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself on that front.  As we’ve discussed before, I’ve never been kissed, and while I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, Steve’s had his fair share of make out partners.  I wouldn’t know what to do.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind giving you lessons,” Vickie practically giggles.

Before the conversation can continue down that avenue, you steer it to the present, “Can we leave the discussion of making out with Steve Harrington for a later date?”

“You’re no fun.  You keep making me wait to have the fun conversations,” Robin grumbles.

“I think they’re only fun for you,” you tell her as you finish with your last button and stand up, “It’s getting too humid in here.  Can we please go outside now, and never finish this conversation?”

The three of you file out of the locker room, grab your instruments from the band room, and make your way to the student section of the bleachers.  You pause for a second and take a moment as you step out under the big lights.  

It’s the beginning of your last football season in the marching band and you’re feeling a bit nostalgic.  In the grand scheme of things, you’re sure high school isn’t going to end up being such a big deal, but how things have been changing recently, it feels like it might be the biggest.

You’ve had so many good times in these stupid bleachers with Robin and Vickie and the rest of the band.  You’ve irritated Mr. Wade to no end.  You’ve eaten your body weight in crappy hotdogs and burned popcorn.  You’ve shared hot chocolate and coffee with Robin, trying to warm your hands on the styrofoam cups.  You made excuses for where Robin and Vickie are so they can sneak a quick make out under the bleachers.  And this is going to be your last football season like this.  It kinda makes you want to tear up.

“Come on, Sunny Girl, we’ve got to warm up,” Robin calls out from the top of the bleacher steps, waiting for you to get a move on.

You shake yourself out of your reverie and jog toward Robin, up the stairs and into the metal bleachers.  You all shuffle your way around each other to get to your places.  You, Robin and Vickie are in a sort of triangle near each other, so it’s easy to have a conversation even if you’re not right next to each other.  You shove your reed in your mouth as people get situated and warm up and you take a look around at the steadily growing trickle of people entering the stadium.

That’s when you see him.  The reed almost falls out of your mouth as you gape.  It’s Eddie, clad as always in his leather jacket under his denim vest and shredded black jeans.  You do a double take, because there’s no way that he can possibly be here.  He’s raged for years about his hatred of school spirit and how he wouldn’t be caught dead at a Hawkins football game.

Robin notices him at the same time as you and reaches across the people next to you to give you a smack against your uniform.

“Are my eyes deceiving me?” she asks you incredulously.

Eddie spots you in the stands and waves.  You acknowledge him with a tip of your head.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you say around the reed to no one in particular.

You know exactly why he’s here, and it’s not to see you.  From your perch you can see him scanning the area in front of the bleachers where the cheerleaders congregate – he’s looking at Chrissy.  She hasn’t noticed him yet.

You glance over to see Robin who’s looking at you with her all-knowing eyes.  She’s gotten Vickie’s attention, and you can tell they just want to know if you’re okay.

You’ve been in the marching band with them for three years, and not once has Eddie come to watch you play.  But by god, he’s come out to watch Chrissy and the rest of the cheerleaders strut their stuff.  

Inhaling deeply, you give them a nod of acknowledgment.  There’s nothing you can do about it.  You can’t dwell on it or you’re only going to hurt your own feelings.  

“Since when does Eddie come to football games?” Robin asks as she makes the two people next to you scooch down so she can sit beside you on the bleachers.

“Since when do you think?”

You gesture vaguely toward the sidelines where the cheerleaders are waving their pompoms and you watch as Chrissy turns around and catches Eddie’s eye.  They’re staring at each other like they're the only two people at the game and it makes your heart do a little hiccup.  They’re smiles are wide.

“That’s a crock of shit,” Robin grumbles

You can’t help but stare between the two of them, “Yeah.”

Eddie keeps glancing at Chrissy as he starts up the bleachers toward the band section.

“Forget about Munson,” Robin begins as she leans her head on your shoulder, “Steve will be here soon.  You can flirt with him and forget all about Eddie.”

“Robin, I can’t flirt with him.  I don’t know how.”

“You’ve been doing just fine flirting with him so far.”  She goes to stand up and get back into her section.  You’re just going to have to take her at her word.

“Flirting with who?”

Suddenly Eddie is there, standing in the walkway between bleachers.  He’s got a knack lately for showing up at the most inopportune times.  This time, instead of playing off what you were going to say, you’re just going to be honest.

“Steve,” you tell him bluntly.  You look over at Robin and Vickie and they are both sporting the same proud mother face.

Eddie doesn’t say anything, he just gives you a look you can’t decipher, letting you continue your conversation with Robin.

“While you’re flirting, ask him to buy some popcorn, I’m hungry,” she tells you as she sits down near the other French horn players.

“Why don’t you ask him?”

“Cause he likes you better than me.”

All you can do is shake your head at her as you start assembling the mouthpiece of your saxophone.  You look over at Eddie, and it’s hard to hide your irritation at him.

“What brings you to my neck of the woods?”  

You’re going to make him say it.

“Thought I’d come see a game before I graduate.”

“And it has nothing to do with a certain ponytailed cheerleader?”

Eddie says nothing, but at least he doesn’t lie.  He leans on the back of his shoes, shoving his hands in the front pocket of his jeans.  He looks properly chastened, and you fight the urge to shove him down the stairs.

“Steve will be here soon.  You can sit with him if you want,” you tell him because you don’t really know what else to say. 

“Do you want me to get you some popcorn?”

He’s trying to placate you, but you won’t be swayed.  All you’ve asked of him is some goddamn honesty and he can’t even give that.  It’s no longer about him dating Chrissy – you just want to know where you stand in his life.

“No, I’m good right now, but thanks.”

You see Steve’s perfect head of hair pop up at the entrance to the stands and wave a hand at him.  You’re happier than you thought you’d be to see him arrive, and not just because he’s saving you from the awkwardness that is most every conversation with Eddie lately.

“Harrington! Over here!”

He notices you and  quickly bounds up the steps and comes to stand by Eddie.

“Hey Sunny.  Loving the outfit.”

You peer down at the hideous band outfit, but you can’t bring yourself to be embarrassed about it.  Band outfits are never going to change, and you could never lie and say you weren’t proud to be there, playing your heart out whenever one of the idiot football players managed to score a touchdown.

“I wore it especially for you,” you say, deciding to test out this whole flirting thing.  Eddie just stands there watching the two of you.

Steve playfully flicks the feathers at the top of your hat, “Aw, you shouldn’t have.”

“Harrington,” Robin cuts in with a whine, “I need popcorn.”

“Robin, I just got here,” he tells her as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“But I’m hungry.”  

She’s giving him her best impression of a starving child.

“And apparently broke,” he says with a tilt of his head and she just gives him a pouty face.

“I’ll be your best friend,” she pleads.

“You already are my best friend.”

“Please.”

You can tell he’s already given in and he looks over at you and asks, “You need anything, sweetheart?”

You give him a shake of your head, “I’m good for now, Stevie.”

“I’m assuming you want a soda, too?” he asks Robin.

“A Coke is fine.”

“A Coke is fine, she says.”  He doesn’t mumble it, he wants her to hear the sarcasm.  “I’ll be right back.”

He makes his way down the steps and around the bleachers toward the concession stand.  As soon as he’s out of sight, Eddie starts in.

“Sweetheart?  Stevie?  Jesus Christ, fucking gag me,” he says with disgust.

“Shut up, Munson.  I think it’s cute.  Don’t make me release my spit valve on your shoes,” Robin warns.  And she would do it, too.  It’s not a threat she’s ever made idly.

Eddie rolls his eyes at her, but directs his question to you, “I didn’t know you had a thing for Harrington?”

“I don’t have a thing for Harrington.  I like him.  He’s a great guy.”

“And we will not tolerate any Steve slander around here, especially not from you, Dungeon Master,” Robin goads.

Vickie nods in agreement with Robin’s statement, and you do as well.  Robin is extremely loyal to her friends, especially Steve, and you can tell from Eddie’s expression that realizes he needs to back off before it’s too late.

“Okay, Buckley, I’ll cool it.”  He holds his hands out in a placating gesture.

“Why do you care if she has a thing for him or not.  Aren’t you preoccupied with Miss Cunningham?”

Suddenly defensive, Eddie says, “I’m not preoccupied with her.”

“So you’re not here to see her?”

Uncharacteristically, he goes silent again.  He wasn’t expecting to be called out.

“We are dating,” he says finally.

“Yeah,” Robin begins, pointing to a hickey visible on his neck, “We know.”

The Eddie you know would normally bite back at Robin.  He’d pull the collar of his shirt down and go on and on about being marked or some shit.  Right now, though, he looks thoroughly chastened and the conversation comes to a halt.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take long for Steve to come back and he’s got three bags of popcorn and three sodas.  He passes the first popcorn and drink to Robin.

“You’re the best!” Robin all but cries.

“I got you and Vickie one, too.  You might have to share with me.”

He hands you the cup and a straw.

“I think I can do that,” you say while trying not to blush as you jab the straw into the lid.

“Pass this down to your girlfriend,” he tells Robin as he passes her another drink and popcorn.

“Aw, thanks Steve.  You didn’t have to,” Vickie beams as she accepts the proffered treats.

“Well, your girlfriend wasn’t feeding you, and I’m her keeper, so I figured I needed to get you one as well.”

“Such a charmer, Harrington,” Eddie huffs.

“I just know how they get if they aren’t fed and watered.”

You take a sip of the soda and hand it off to Steve who doesn’t hesitate to take a drink out of the same straw.  He throws a piece of popcorn up in the air for you to catch in your mouth.

“Attention band members!” comes Mr. Wade’s booming voice from the front of the student section.  Everyone turns at the sound, “I hope everyone is tuned.  It looks like we’re almost ready to begin.”

“I guess that’s my cue to go,” Steve says as he offers you another drink before he goes to find a seat.

“I’m sure you’ll be summoned eventually.”

Steve and Eddie journey to find seats and as you sit down, you look over at Robin who looks thoroughly pleased with herself.

“That was like a twofer.  I got you to flirt with Steve and I got to talk shit to Munson.”

You can’t help but be amused by her antics, “You’re ridiculous.”

She just laughs as you get in position and pull your strap over your head.  Mr. Wade has his conductor hands up.  The first song he has you play is always the Hawkins High Fight Song as the players come out on the field.  It’s always “Eye of the Tiger” if the team manages to score a touchdown, and needless to say, you don’t play “Eye of the Tiger” very often.  He lets you switch it up with “Crazy Train” and “Born to be Wild” when he gets a wild hair.

The first half goes by quickly.  Steve and Eddie join the three of you again after the first quarter, Steve with popcorn for you and an offering of coffee or hot chocolate which all three of you decline.  You can hardly believe it, but Eddie actually compliments the band after your rendition of Ozzy’s “Crazy Train” after the team makes an interception.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he tells you somewhat conspiratorially, “but that was actually pretty fucking badass.”

“Just wait until half time.  We play ‘The Final Countdown’ into ‘Enter Sandman.’  Your mind is going to be blown.”

He laughs brightly, a laugh he hasn’t given you in weeks. 

“Eddie!” his attention is taken away by the sound of Chrissy’s voice calling out to him from the sidelines.  The cheerleaders always have a break as the marching band goes on the field.

The look he gives you is apologetic as he mouths ‘sorry’ to you and basically skips down the steps toward Chrissy.

You just try to take it in stride.  They’re dating.  There’s nothing you can do about it.  And you can’t let it keep taking over every aspect of your life.  Steve gives you a grimace of a smile and you give him a similar one back.

“Pass this to Steve,” Robin tells you suddenly as she hands you her phone.

“What do you want me to do with this?” he asks and stares at the offered phone with confusion.

“Can you video us while we’re out on the field?  I need this for posterity.”

“You act like I’m your stage mother or something.”  He can’t hide his exasperation, and it’s adorable.

“Aren’t you?”

He just gives her a resigned look and shoves her phone in his back pocket.

Mr. Wade commands you all down to the field and you get in formation, your drum major in the front to conduct you.  You can see Steve standing at the chain link fence surrounding the field.  He’s got Robin’s phone out, ready to do his motherly duty.  Eddie and Chrissy are standing next to him, further down the fence.  He’s got his arm around her shoulder and she’s nuzzling into his neck.  

They’re not being shy about being together, and you’re surprised that no one has made a big deal about it.  But up until tonight, they have never been this open in their affections in a school setting.  You knew they went on dates, but there was a difference in going out on dates to the movies or Benny’s where you might not even see anyone you know versus being open about it on school grounds where basically the entire student body is going to see you and make it their business.  There are cheerleaders off in a huddle near the concession stand that you can see pointing to the couple.  It’s the first you’ve seen of that, but after tonight you know it’s not going to be the last.

Something has changed – you just don’t know what it is yet.

You tell yourself right then that you’re done thinking about it.  Eddie made his decision.  You’re friends.  Simple as that.  You’re not going to spend the rest of your senior year pining over him when you could be enjoying yourself and the little time you have left to just be a teenager.  You refuse to be your mother who lets the love, or lack thereof, of a man change her into someone who is more of an acquaintance to you than a parent.

Attention pulled forward by the raising of the drum major's hands, you place your mouthpiece in your mouth and begin to play the songs that you’ve played hundreds of times before.  You’re completely in sync with the other members of the band as you march, and just like it does every time you play these same, seemingly tired songs, you’re filled with an emotion you can’t name, but is so overwhelming you almost cry.  As the music booms around you, you let that piece of you that still clings to the romantic idea of Eddie drift away with the notes.  It’s fucking freeing.  You’re completely caught up in it as you catch Steve’s eyes.

He has the camera recording, but he’s not looking at the screen.  He’s looking at you, and as you look at him your heart gives a little thump that has nothing to do with the music surrounding you, but the emotion you see in his eyes.  He looks completely enthralled despite the fact that you’re wearing your hideous band outfit.  He notices you noticing him and gives you a wink – your heart does the little thump again.

You make the decision right then and there, while you’re surrounded by the Friday night lights and the thumping of the drum line that you’re going to explore whatever it is that seems to be brewing between you and Steve.  Robin has already given you her blessing, so why not?  Steve seems to genuinely like you, and you genuinely like him.  You don’t know what it says about you that you just professed your love for your best friend not even a month ago and you’re already ready to think about someone else romantically.  But really, what are you supposed to do when that other person is obviously not interested in you that way?  You’re fucking seventeen years old and you have a whole school year in front of you.

Eddie has Chrissy.  Why can’t you have Steve?

The marching band program slowly comes to an end and you all rush off the field so the second half can start.  Steve is waiting just behind the fence and he rushes to you, Robin and Vickie, practically gushing.

“That was actually amazing!”

“Did you doubt us, Harrington?” Robin asks, holding her French horn at her side.

“When you see how our football team plays, you make assumptions about the marching band,” he jokes goodnaturedly, “I also got it all on video for you.”

“You’re the best stage mom ever.  While you’re at it, can you take a picture of us?” she asks, gesturing to you and Vickie to gather around her.

Steve dutifully takes the phone out of his back pocket and aims it at the three of you as you get in place, you and Vickie on either side of Robin, instruments still in hand.

“Say cheese!” he commands and the three of you reply in kind as he starts snapping picture after picture, all at different angles.

“Get in here, Stevie,” you tell him and motion him to join the three of you.

He slides in between you and Robin, his arm going around your waist, pulling you close.

“Hey, Munson,” he calls out to Eddie who is coming back from the restroom after Chrissy leaves to go back to the sidelines, “can you take a picture of us?”

Steve throws the phone to Eddie and he starts taking shots of the four of you, his eyes narrowed on Steve’s arm around your waist.  You ignore it.  You don’t have time to think about that, you just focus on the warmth of Steve pressed against your side and the smiles on the faces of your two other friends.

Robin disentangles herself from Steve and Vickie and holds her hands out to Eddie for her phone.  He tosses it to her and she immediately holds it up.

“Sunny, Steve,” she calls your attention, “I wanna get a few of just the two of you.”

She has that playful look in her eye, and you’ve decided you’re going to let her play.

Before you know what’s happening, Steve’s got one arm secure across your back as he crouches down and slides his other arm under your knees, sweeping you up bridal style.  Your saxophone swings precariously from its strap, and you fucking giggle as you wrap your arm around Steve’s neck.  Robin laughs out loud as she takes her pictures.

“I’m fucking printing these,” she tells herself.

Eddie just stands there watching the two of you, arms crossed over his chest, not a word spoken.

“Okay, Stevie, you can let me down now,” you finally say after Robin goes in for a point five photo.

He settles you on the ground, but you lean against him like you need to support.

“Robs, throw me the phone, I wanna get some of you and Vickie,” you say and the phone is tossed yet again, this time into your hands.

Robin and Vickie make kissy faces at each other and do your standard couples poses as you get more and more pictures of them.  You hope Robin wasn’t lying about printing pictures, because you want a copy of everything.

“Children!” you hear the voice of Mr. Wade call out, and he’s summoning the three of you back to the bleachers.

You hand off the phone to Robin and everyone gets back in their positions.  Eddie and Steve give you all nods as they go to their own seats.

To no one’s surprise, “Eye of the Tiger” is played not one single time in the second half, so Mr. Wade just lets you all goof around with your song choices and the band has a blast.

Overall, you do your level best not to give any attention to whatever Eddie and Chrissy may or may not be doing with their eyes, but as the game ends and everyone is filing out of the stadium, you see Chrissy pull him away toward the school building and out of sight.  You take a deep breath and let it go.  What they do or don’t do is none of your business.  

Robin and Vickie say their goodbyes to you and you resign yourself to waiting at the van for Eddie to return.  You make your way toward that direction to miraculously see Steve waiting in the parking lot next to his beamer.  As you know, Robin has already left with Vickie, so the only person he can be waiting for is you.  You give him a small grin as you approach with your saxophone case in hand.

“Do you need a ride home?” Steve asks, and you almost wish that you did.

“No, I’m going to Eddie’s for movie night, but thank you,” you shuffle your feet when you notice Steve’s brow furrow and you’re desperately trying to think of a way to continue the conversation, “Uh, I’d appreciate it if you could pick me up for work tomorrow, though.”

His answering smile could light up the damn parking lot, “Yeah, I can do that.”

“You know where Forest Hills is?”

“Of course.”

“Wayne’s trailer is near the entrance, you’ll see Eddie’s ugly ass van,” you tell him and point behind you to the offending vehicle.

“What time?”

“How does nine sound?  We can stop and pick up coffee on the way.”

“I think I can manage that.”

He’s got his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans and he looks like he’s about to say something else when Eddie walks up.

“You ready, dude?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you can’t help it if you sound a bit put out. 

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you step closer to Steve and wrap him in a hug which he swiftly returns.  And good god that man smells delicious.  You pull back a little reluctantly.

“I’ll see you in the morning?” you ask.

“Nine o’clock.”

Before any more pleasantries can be exchanged, Eddie grabs your hand and starts leading you to the van.  He pulls you so hard you almost trip over your own feet.  You’re barely able to grab your saxophone.

“Adios King Steve!” Eddie calls behind him.

“Goodbye,” you huff exasperatedly toward Steve’s direction as you jerk Eddie to a stop so you can turn and wave.

Steve gives you a small wave back and watches the two of you leave.

“Did you and Steve have a nice conversation?” Eddie asks as he throws open his driver’s side door.

You round the front to the passenger side, “We sure did.  How about you and Chrissy?”

Eddie doesn’t give you a reply so you throw open your own door and hop inside.  Neither of you say anything, you just sit in an awful silence that makes it feel hard to breathe.  You and Eddie never snipe at each other.  You really don’t want to start now after you’ve had a pretty decent night.

“You’re being awfully hesitant to speak tonight,” you venture.  He’s just standing at the open door not moving.

“Because I don’t know what to say.”

“About what?”

This isn’t a can of worms you were planning on opening tonight, but Eddie seems to have brought his can opener.

“Are you upset?” Eddie asks as he climbs inside and starts the engine.

“Yeah, a little.”

“Why?”

You don’t really want to have to explain it to him because you think it makes you sound a little pathetic.  You’ve never been this needy girl, not until Eddie stopped giving you his undivided attention.  And you know it’s not fair and it’s kinda selfish, but you can’t exactly help how you feel about it.  You think about what you’re about to say carefully as Eddie pulls out onto the road.

“It just makes me a little sad, Eds.  I’ve been in the marching band since I was a freshman and you’ve never come to any of the games to see us play.  You’ve been seeing Chrissy for a couple of months and all of a sudden you’re sat.  It kinda hurts my feelings.”

“You never asked me to come see you play,” he argues, turning his face briefly from the road to look at you.

“You’re right, because you made it abundantly clear that you hate everything that has to do with school spirit.  Your arch nemeses are the entirety of all Hawkins sports teams, minus Lucas!  Did Chrissy ask you to come see her?”

He looks down at the steering wheel for a second and you don’t even need him to answer.  Of course she didn’t.  That was something Eddie came up with all on his own.

“Yeah, I didn’t think she did.  If you want to see her cheer at a game, that’s fine Eddie.  It might not be coming out the right way, but if Chrissy is who you want, then I’m happy for you.  I can’t hold a grudge against her because she hasn’t done anything wrong.  But that doesn’t mean my feelings aren’t going to get hurt along the way.  For the longest time we’ve been the most important people in each others’ lives and I’m trying to learn how to not take it personally that that’s not always going to be the case anymore.”

You see something flicker across Eddie’s face, but since you can’t see him straight on, you’re not quite sure what it is.  It’ll probably come to bite you in the ass, but you press.

“What is it?”

“About important people in our lives…” Eddie trails off.

“Yeah?”

“Well, Chrissy and I made it official yesterday.”

“Made it official as in she’s your girlfriend?”

He nods and continues to stare at the road in front of him.

You knew something was coming, and it was exactly what you expected.  Eddie is now a boyfriend.  Chrissy’s boyfriend.  It’s all going to start now.  They’re going to hold hands in the hallway, sneak off to make out under the bleachers, share a lunch table.  And you’re going to see it every day.

Pointer fingers slip over your thumbs and you press down to hear the familiar, comforting crack of your knuckles.  You’re not mad.  You’re sad, but in more of a resigned and nostalgic way than in a heartbroken way.  Like you’re yearning for something in the past that you’ll never get back again.

“Chrissy is a lucky girl,” is what you manage to say as Eddie pulls into the gravel drive on the side of the trailer and puts the van in park.

He finally looks over at you, “Do you mean that?”

Eddie might come off to the rest of the world as a freak who doesn’t care what anyone thinks, but you know deep down that he craves validation, and you’re not going to be the person who fails him in this.

“Of course I do, Eds.  You’re my favorite person in the world.  I know things have been a little rocky with us lately, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t care about you.  You’re passionate, funny and so full of goddamn life.  I’ve been lucky to have you as my best friend for seventeen years.  Chrissy will never regret choosing you.”

His eyes have gone glassy, but you’re done rhapsodizing about him for the night.  You can only be so selfless.

“Let’s go inside,” you tell him as you open the door and grab your things.

The two of you exit the van and walk side by side up the steps to the door.  Eddie unlocks it quickly and lets you inside first.

“M’lady,” he says with a sweeping gesture of his hand.

“Good sir,” you reply as you cross the threshold into the living room.

You set your saxophone by the door and throw yourself and your bag on the couch.  Eddie locks up and turns to you.

“Uh, should we make popcorn?”

It’s evident that Eddie just wants to push past any more conversation for the time being, and you do, too.  However, you’re not really in the mood for a movie anymore.

“I think I just want to go to sleep.  It’s been a long night, and I have work in the morning.  I’m just gonna grab some clothes and my blanket.”

“You’re not gonna sleep in the bed?” Eddie asks, and he sounds a little hurt.  He just wants things to go back to normal so badly, and you agree, but it’s never going to happen.  That’s what hurts more than anything.

“I don’t think that would be very appropriate Eddie.”

He throws his hands up in the air, “Come on, dude, you’ve been sleeping in my bed for years.”

“Well, I think it’s time we stop.  We’re older now, and you have a girlfriend.  I don’t think Chrissy would like hearing you had another girl in your bed, best friend or not.”

“This is bullshit!” Eddie protests, “Nothing has to change just because Chrissy is my girlfriend.”

This poor, sweet, simpleton of a boy.

“Things are going to change, Eds.  It’s just going to be an adjustment.  It’s not a bad thing.”

“The fuck it isn’t.”

You agree with the sentiment, but the wheels are already set in motion and you can’t turn back time.

“Let’s just go to bed, okay.  You’ll feel better after you’ve had some sleep.”

“I’m sure,” he says sarcastically as he walks to his room to grab your blanket.  You follow him to get some clothes.  At least a quarter of your wardrobe sits at the bottom of his closet.  It’s probably time you bring them home.

You exit quickly and head into the bathroom to change.  It takes no time to change into your pajamas, wash your face and brush your teeth.  When you come out, Eddie is waiting by the couch with your blanket and a pillow.

“I really don’t think it’s that big of a deal if you sleep in the bed,” he says as he tosses them to you.

“Can we just drop it for right now?”

“Whatever,” he huffs.

He isn’t happy, but you don’t really care.  You’re not going to be that girl who disrespects someone’s relationship.  And even if Eddie refuses to believe it, continuing to share a bed with him does just that.  He turns to go to his room.

“Goodnight,” you call out before he gets there.

He stops, but he doesn’t turn around, “Goodnight Sunshine.”

His door closes with a finality that sits in your stomach long after you see the light turn off from the gap at the floor.  

You turn off the lamp and throw yourself back against the couch.  The living room is dark except for the light filtering through the blinds and you stare out at nothing.  You feel like you hurt his feelings, but he needs to understand the new dynamics.  You can’t hold his hand, you can’t sleep in his bed – that’s someone else’s job now.  You’re not playing the part of a pseudo girlfriend.  He has a real one.  And try as you might, you can’t fucking hate her.

Eyes close against your will, and the last thing you think before oblivion takes you is how much you hate sleeping on Uncle’s Wayne’s fucking couch.

End Notes: Ok, so how do we feel? What about our boy Steve? We're gonna be done with any MAJOR angst for a little bit, and we might be dipping our toes into some Harrington fluff next. As always, thank you for reading, and let me know if you'd like to be tagged.

You did it. 

Robin and Steve have been telling you that you should do it for the past year. They said you had nothing to worry about. They guaranteed your feelings would be reciprocated. They waxed poetic about longing looks and lingering touches. They convinced you, and even though you hadn’t been thoroughly convinced, you did it. You finally told your best friend, Eddie Munson, that you are in love with him. And now, he’s doing his best to let you down gently.

To you, it’s anything but gentle. 

If you weren’t so absolutely mortified and heartbroken, you would find it endearing.  He’s holding your hand, gently brushing his thumb against your knuckles.  He’s got that soft look on his face.  You love that look, where he gazes up at you with those puppy dog brown eyes through his eyelashes.  You hate that he’s giving you that look as he’s telling you that he does love you, but just as a friend.

You’re in the living room of Uncle Wayne’s trailer, both sitting side-by-side on the couch.  You are supposed to be there for movie night, it’s a Friday night tradition.  But instead of marathoning on Netflix and eating shitty microwave popcorn, you’d stormed in like a bat out of hell, full of resolve to finally tell Eddie what you’d been holding in for the last couple of years.

You’d whipped yourself into such a frenzy on the way over to Forest Hills that after Eddie had ushered you in you’d blurted it out without introduction.  Once you started, it poured out of you like blood from a bullet wound. You spoke so fast that Eddie had actually made you repeat yourself.  You’d managed to slow your breathing down just enough to get it around your tongue and passed your teeth, and then there was silence.

He looked at you for a minute, a myriad of emotions crossing his face so quickly you couldn’t narrow them down.  All the while, your heart was racing, your palms were sweaty, and you thought you might stroke out.  

“I’m sorry,” is how he began, trying to soften the blow.

Why did you have to fucking say anything?  

You feel like such an idiot.  And you want to be mad at Robin and Steve – they’re the ones who had been so adamant that you get everything off of your chest – but you know you never would’ve done it if part of you hadn’t believed them.  Because when they enumerated all of the reasons they thought Eddie reciprocated your feelings, it made you so damn hopeful – almost giddy.

Now, you’re buzzing with too much adrenaline.  There are too many emotions swirling in your body and there’s nowhere to release them.  Despite your confession, your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest.  Your face is flaming with heat.  You need to get out of Eddie’s eyesight and trailer before you start to cry…or puke.  If you start doing both at the same time, you’re going to throw yourself in front of traffic.

“I shouldn’t have done this.”  You look down at your hands, unable to meet Eddie’s eyes, “I’m so – goddammit!  I think I need to leave.”

You go to stand up, but Eddie stops you with a firm grip around your biceps, pulling you back down to sit on the couch.

“Hey, no, Sunshine, wait a second.”

You don’t think you can wait a second.  Your eyes are swimming with unshed tears and it’s getting harder to draw a full breath.  Even though you’re pretty sure you can’t humiliate yourself any further, you refuse to have a panic attack in front of him.

“I really need to go, Eds,” your voice trembles with the words, “I’ve already made a big enough fool of myself tonight.”

He shakes his head, dark curls swinging wildly, “You didn’t make a fool of yourself.”

“Yeah, I think I did.  I just barged into your house and word vomited a love confession all over your lap.  Then, you have the audacity to be sweet about it and try to comfort me.”

Your hands are clenched into fists at your sides and you keep pressing down with your thumbs onto your pointer fingers like you’re trying to crack your knuckles.  It’s what you always do when you are anxious, and you see Eddie glance down at them.  He clocks it instantly and goes to grab at your hand to pry it open like he always does.  But that’s not something you can handle right now – the sweet Eddie who knows all of your little idiosyncrasies – you need a distraction.

“Do you have a dictionary?”

He gives you a quizzical nod, his hands stopping mid-reach, “Uh, yeah, I think Uncle Wayne has one.”

“Go look up the word fool.  There’s a picture of me right next to it.”

You do what you always do.  You try to be clever and funny to smooth the situation over.  It usually works.  It doesn’t work this time.  You don’t even get a chuckle.  Not a twitch of a lip to be found.

You go to stand up again and he doesn’t stop you.  He’s looking up at you like he doesn’t really know what to do.  The whole situation is beyond awkward, and you wish you could just melt into a puddle on the floor.

“What happens now?” he asks.  He’s giving you the soft look again.

Goddammit.

You shrug and decide that you’re just going to go with honesty.  It’s not like the night can get any worse. 

“I’m not sure.  Right now, I just wanna get the fuck outta here.”  You see Eddie wince, but you’re on the honest train tonight, apparently, and it’d be a shame to jump off now.  “Then, I’m gonna call Robin and she’ll come over to comfort me and I’ll probably cry some more.  There will probably be some wallowing.  Maybe a couple of weeks worth.  I’m not gonna lie to you Eds, during those couple of weeks, you’re probably not gonna see much of me.”

You see a little something like alarm pass through his eyes and he stands up and grasps your shoulders, holding you in place so he can look at you straight on.  

“What do you mean I’m probably not going to see much of you?  You’re my best fucking friend.  I see you every day.”

He’s not even being hyperbolic.  It’s the last few weeks of summer vacation before senior year, and in all the days prior, you’d seen each other – whether it was your weekly movie nights, hanging out at The Hideout, band practice with Corroded Coffin, D&D nights with Eddie’s Hellfire Club – every day.  Robin even hinted at making a schedule in which she and Eddie shared custody of you because she thought Eddie was monopolizing your time.  He was because you let him.

“Everything is gonna be fine, Eds.  I just need to process – to get over these feelings I have for you,” you place your hands on top of his where they still rest on your shoulders and give them a squeeze, “This isn’t me disappearing forever.  This isn’t me ending our friendship.  I mean, you still wanna be friends, right?”

“Of course I do.  You’re my Sunshine.”

That stupid fucking nickname.  Uncle Wayne had given it to you.  Said your smile was brighter than the sunshine.  

“I’m gonna go,” you say as you delicately extricate yourself from his grip.  

You grab your purse and keys from the coffee table.  You turn and head for the door, almost free, almost able to let it all out, when Eddie clears his throat.  You stop and reluctantly turn around.

“Can I have a hug?” he asks.

You aren’t surprised.  Eddie has always been a tactile person.  He’s always shown how he cares through touch.  He’d grab your hand to lead you somewhere, sling an arm over your shoulder as you walked the hallways, pull you into hugs as greetings or goodbyes.  It always felt like a gift, and now, as you’re trying not crawl into the fetal position and sob on his floor, it feels like a fucking curse.  You know that as soon as he wraps his arms around you you’re going to break down.  But what’s a little more humiliation for the night?

So you nod at him, “Yeah, Eds.”

He walks up to you slowly and tentatively, like you’re a scared animal that’ll dart away from him if his movements are too sudden.  And you guess that’s what you probably look like with your arms crossed over your chest and your body hunched in on itself like you’re trying to become as small as possible.  

When he wraps his arms around you, you’re hit with his ever present cigarette smoke and spearmint gum scent and you feel the first tears fall.  That smell is home.  That smell is love.  And you hope you haven’t fucked everything up now.  

Eddie has always been your person, your safe place, and now with your confession, something feels off kilter.  It’s never been awkward to hug Eddie before, but now you’re too aware of where his hands are and your hands are.  There’s also the fact that you’re soaking the front of his t-shirt with your tears.  

Slowly, almost reluctantly, you unlock your arms from around yourself and return his embrace.   

“You know I do love you, Sunshine,” he says into your hair and it takes everything in you to hold back your sob.

“I love you, too, Eds.”

You give him another second of contact and pull back.  He lets you go even though you feel hesitation in his hold.

“Will you text me when you get home?” he asks.

You nod.  You can’t say anything else, because if you do, the sob you were able to hold in earlier is going to escape.  

You turn and make a hasty exit, almost sprinting to your car.  Keys in hand, you swing open your door, throw your purse in the vague direction of the passenger seat and slam the door as you make it inside.  The keys get jammed into the ignition and you don’t even wait to put on a seatbelt before you are slinging gravel trying to get out of Eddie’s driveway.  

You’re only five minutes down the road before you have to pull over because you can’t see through your tears.  Once the car is in park you fumble for your purse and pull out your phone.  Robin’s number is number two on your favorites list, right underneath Eddie’s.  You press it and try to calm your breathing as it rings.

In and out, in and out, you repeat to yourself as you wait for Robin to pick up.  You wish you had a damn paper bag to breathe into.  You feel close to hyperventilating.

“Hey, honey,” Robin’s voice greets you through the speakers of your car.

“H-hey,” you manage through hiccups.

Even if Robin hadn’t been your friend for years, she would have to be an idiot not to know instantly that something is up.

“Sunny Girl, what’s wrong?”

You take a few fortifying breaths and Robin waits for your reply.

“I told him.”

She doesn’t need to be clued in.  You’d told her you were going to tell Eddie before senior year started, you just hadn’t given her an exact date.

“Okay, okay, good.  And what did he say?”

Robin’s voice sounds so hopeful that it makes your chest feel heavy.  She seemed almost as optimistic as you that Eddie would return your feelings.  She knows how much you care for him, and she’s always thought the two of you are a perfect match.  And she’d never liked any of the guys you’d crushed on in the decade plus that you’ve been friends.

The hiccuping sobs start up again.

“Oh no,” her voice is a whisper because you know she’s still at work, “Where are you?”

“I-in my c-car.  On the s-side of the r-road.”

She doesn’t ask if you’re okay.  Robin’s smart like that.  You’re sobbing.  You can hardly get your words out.  Of course you’re not okay.

“Are you good to drive?  Do you need me and Steve to come get you?”

You shake your head before you remember that she can’t see you, “No, I’m good to drive, I think.  Or I will be.  But do you think you could come over?”

Steve’s voice is suddenly in the background asking her what’s wrong.  You hear her shushing him.  She says your name and says she’ll explain later, but Steve is persistent as always and suddenly it’s his voice you hear over the speakers.

“We’ll meet you at your house.  We’re about to finish closing up.  We’re leaving work in five.”

He hands the phone back to Robin.

“We’re on our way, Sunny Girl.  Do you need anything?  We’ll pick up whatever.”

“A fuck ton of ice cream.”

“Lucky for you we work at an ice cream shop.  I think we can handle that.   Be careful.  We’ll see you soon.”

“Thanks, Birdie.  Tell Steve thanks, too.”

“Of course, honey.”

Robin clicks off and you know you need to take a few minutes and a few more deep breaths to calm yourself.  Everything has gone so horribly wrong.  And you just feel so disappointed and…sad.  Down to your bones, helplessly, hopelessly sad.  

You try your best to compartmentalize – you’re the girl with the absent mother and father you’ve never known – compartmentalization is your go-to.  Yet, every time you think you have yourself under control, a new wave washes over you and you’re back to square one.

Get a fucking grip, you tell yourself as you scrub your tears away with the palm of your hands, You can make it home.

Thankfully, you manage to make it home without harming yourself or others.  You pull into your driveway, and before you’ve even made it through your door, Robin and Steve pull up behind you in Steve’s Beemer.  They follow you inside and Robin guides you to the couch as Steve heads into the kitchen to grab spoons for the pints of ice cream he’s carrying.

You plop yourself down, throwing your stuff on the floor, and Robin gives you a once over, clocking your puffy face and red-rimmed eyes.

There is no preamble, she gets straight to it, “Tell us what happened.”

Steve comes around the kitchen island with the ice cream and passes them out, along with spoons, before he sits on your other side.  If it were anyone else but Steve, you’d be a little peeved that someone was along for your ride of shame, but you’ve become good friends with him through Robin.  He’s often a good temper for her eternal optimism, and you need someone who will join you on your pity party train.

“I told him.”

Neither of them question what you’re talking about.  They’d been the ones so adamant that you finally open up.

“And?” Robin nudges.  

They give each other the look – that best friend look where you don’t have to say anything, but you know everything.  It’s a look you and Eddie have shared thousands of times.  That thought alone almost makes you start crying.

“And he doesn’t feel the same way.”

Robin's gaze is incredulous, “That’s not possible.”

You shake your head and shrug your shoulders, “It’s totally possible. I got the whole I-love-you-but-I’m-not-in-love-with-you speech not even a half hour ago.”

The two best friends give each other another look.  They still seem wholly confused.

“But I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” Steve begins, “I know that look.  I’ve given that look.”

“I don’t know what to tell you Stevie, but that’s what happened.  I went over, I told him how I felt, he said he didn’t feel the same.  The end.  Commence humiliation.  I practically ran out of there like a bat outta hell.”

“I’m so sorry, Sunny Girl,” Robin says as she pulls you into a hug, “but there’s no reason to feel humiliated.  You were just being honest.  And it’s not like he kicked you out or anything…did he?”

You shake your head, “God no!  Nothing like that.  But I can’t even begin to tell you how embarrassing it was.”

Robin maneuvers you by the shoulders so she can look you square in the eye, “You have nothing to be embarrassed about, do you hear me?”

You just stare back at her, unsure of what to say.  Because you damn sure do feel embarrassed.  Eddie isn’t just some boy you met in class and thought he was cute.  You know the intimate ends and outs of each others’ lives.  You’ve shared dreams and secrets that no one else knows.  There’s no one else that you’ve ever been as vulnerable with.

“You did something really brave.  It took guts.  And it fucking sucks that Eddie doesn’t reciprocate your feelings, but at least you took the leap.  If you hadn’t, you’d still be in limbo.”

Robin’s right on one count.  There was something oddly freeing about having told Eddie the truth.  You could admit that you’d been weird with Eddie since you decided that you were going to tell him. He’d noticed the small moments where you would pull away or be less talkative.  There were several times recently where he’d asked you if you were okay and you’d had to lie.  You’d felt horrible that you were distant, but now everything was out in the open and you could at least be at peace with that.

“But what do I do now?  I don’t know how I’m going to face him since I've put it out there.  Every time I see him, I’m going to see that look he gave me.  I’m going to hear him say he’s sorry that he doesn’t love me back.”  You bow your head and press your palms against your eyes as if you could block out the past couple of hours.  “Jesus Christ, I’m a mess.”

“So what?” Steve blurts around a mouth full of ice cream, “You’re a mess, I’m a mess, Robin’s a mess, Eddie’s a mess.  You’ve got what, two weeks until school starts back?”

You nod, not sure what he’s trying to get at.

“That means Robin and I have two weeks to help you wallow and to help you cheer up before you’re forced to face him every weekday in the halls.”

“And how do you propose doing that?”

He grabs one of the pints of ice cream, chocolate chocolate chip which is your favorite, and passes it to you along with a spoon.

“We start off with ice cream.  Then, we’re going to watch a movie, but none of that body horror shit that you and Munson watch.  We’re going to watch The Fast and the Furious or something else that you don’t have to think about.  I’m going to order Chinese, because we all know Eddie hates Chinese and you always get upset that you can’t get it on movie nights.  You whine about it every time.  We’re going to steal a bottle of vodka or two from your mom’s stash because it’s for a good cause, and we’re going to get fucking drunk and fall asleep in the living room.  Tomorrow, none of us have to work, so we’re heading to the mall to spend money on things we don’t need because it’ll give us a serotonin boost.”

Robin wraps an arm around your shoulders and gives you a squeeze and a bright smile, “Sounds like a solid plan to me, Harrington.”

To demonstrate his point, Steve takes the top off of the ice cream he gave you and takes back the proffered utensil, scoops a spoonful, and holds it up to your mouth like he’s trying to feed a toddler.  You can’t help but smile a little.

“You in?”

You open your mouth and take the offered bite, deciding that whoever had figured out that ice cream was a cure for heartbreak might be a genius.

“I’m in.”

“Good,” Steve begins, “Now, we don’t have to watch The Fast and the Furious, but I’m putting a moratorium on any and all rom-coms because first, I don’t like them, and second, I don’t think we need you getting any more into your feelings than you already are.”

“All lies!  You love rom-coms,” Robin goads, “I watched you cry during Kat’s speech in 10 Things I Hate About You less than a month ago.”

“I didn’t cry!  It was my allergies.  The pollen count was really high that day!”

If you have to wallow in despair, you’re glad that it’s with Steve and Robin.  You’ve been friends with Robin for years – ever since you’d gotten put on the same dodgeball team in elementary school gym and you’d both gotten knocked out in the first round.  You’d sat next to each other on the bleachers and soon learned that you both had an affinity for sarcasm and a distinct lack of athletic ability.  Now, you are both in the school band, Robin playing the french horn and you playing the saxophone, and Mr. Wade, the band director, had to rearrange entire sections to keep you from talking to each other during practice. 

When she’d started working at Scoops Ahoy with Steve, you never would’ve thought that they would become as close as they have.  Steve “The Hair” Harrington hanging out with a band nerd?  You never thought you’d see the day.  But she’d folded him and his children into your little duo, and if you aren’t hanging out with Eddie, you are usually with them – picking through the new inventory at the entertainment store where you work, shuffling the kids to the arcade, having game nights at the usually empty Harrington house.

Eddie is a part of the larger group, having found a kindred spirit in Dustin Henderson, but you both have always enjoyed your time just the two of you.  

He has been your constant companion for almost two decades.  Your moms were best friends, and after you were born almost a year to the day after Elizabeth Munson gave birth to Eddie, you were inseparable.  You don’t have a childhood memory that isn’t blanketed in his laugh.  You grew even closer as you grew older when popularity and status came into the mix – both being labeled as trash and freaks.  You share a love of music, Dungeons and Dragons, high fantasy, and horror movies.  You know him like the back of your hand and vice versa.

And now you’re terrified that you’ve ruined everything because you couldn’t keep your damn mouth shut.

As if he’s been summoned, you hear your phone vibrate in your purse and find that you have a new message from him.

Eds 🎸:

Haven’t heard anything from you.  Just making sure you made it home okay.

You let out a long sigh and just stare at your phone for a second.

The background for his message thread is a picture of the two of you from Halloween last year.  You’re dressed as Arwen and Aragorn from The Lord of the Rings, most specifically the movie version because you were obsessed with Arwen’s blue dress.  Eddie had capitulated only because he got to wear a sword either way.  He looks so dashing in his cloak, brandishing a sword you’d “borrowed” from the drama department.  Robin caught the two of you mid-laugh.  You are looking at him with obvious adoration and he has a mischievous glint in his eye.  He’d almost stabbed himself with the sword that night.

“Is it Eddie?” Robin asks, looking over your shoulder.

“Yeah.  He wants to know if I made it home.”

“He does care about you, you know?”

“I know.  I just hope I haven’t royally fucked everything up.”

“I don’t think he would’ve texted you if you fucked everything up.”

“Just message the guy and then put your phone away,” Steve pipes up, “We’re going to make this an angst-free zone, if just until tomorrow."

You thought Steve would be all for the drama of the situation, as long as you’ve known him he’s liked to dissect everything down to the tiniest detail, but he’s apparently appointed himself president of the Cheer Up Sunshine committee.

“I’ll do that and grab the vodka.  Robs, pop some popcorn.  Steve, order Chinese.  And I swear I won’t bring it up again tonight.  Tonight, we’re just the unholy trinity.”

Even if you don’t believe what you’re saying, you’re going to pretend for your friends.  And maybe if you pretend long enough, it will make it true.

“Amen,” Robin replies with a solemn nod.

“Amen,” Steve echoes with a wide smile.

Robin jumps up to head into the kitchen, “Steve, I want veggie lo mein and spring rolls.”

“Sweet and sour sauce?”

“Of course.”

“And I want –” you begin, but Steve cuts you off.

“I know what you want, Sunny.  Beef and broccoli with fried rice and the largest order of crab rangoons that they have.”

You press your hands to your chest as if in shock, “Harrington, I didn’t know you cared.”

“Are you serious?  I forgot your crab rangoons one time and you threatened me with grievous bodily harm.” 

“I like my crab rangoons.  So sue me,” you say with a shrug, giving him the most innocent look you can muster.

“I know you like them,” he replies simply as he unlocks his phone and starts searching his contacts for the restaurant.

Something tugs at your heart a little knowing that you have people who care – who notice you.  Especially now that you feel a big gaping wound in your chest where Eddie resides.  If you didn’t have Robin and Steve you’d probably be sobbing in the middle of your living room floor.  But they came to your rescue immediately and seem to be intent on making sure you know you have more true friends other than just Eddie.

They seem to also be pretty set on making sure you know that you didn’t make a mistake and letting him know your true feelings.

Robin is right, you think as you go to type out a reply to Eddie on your phone, there’s no more limbo.  It’s not as if you’re suddenly free of the burden of your emotions, you still love Eddie with a fierceness that you can’t put into words, but it feels a lot easier to carry the weight of your confession when you have two other sets of hands.

Sunny:

I made it home safe.

You see the typing message bubble pop up immediately at the bottom of the screen.  He’s been waiting for your reply.

Eds 🎸:

Good :)

You plan on just leaving it at that when the message bubble pops up again.

Eds 🎸:

Are you okay?

Tears prick your vision without warning.  Even after you ambushed him with your confession, he’s still checking to see that you’re okay.  And even if it’s only for a brief moment, you feel better.  While you’re humiliated and heartbroken right now, you know it won’t stay that way forever.

Sunny:

I’m with Robin and Steve and Steve’s ordering Chinese food.  They’re going to stay the night with me.  We’re doing the 3 Ws: watch movies, wallow, wassail.

Eds 🎸:

Wassail?

Sunny:

It means “to drink plentiful amounts of alcohol.” Typing “get fucked up” would’ve messed up my alliteration.

Eds 🎸:

Fucking nerd.  I’m going to pretend I know what alliteration means.

Will you text me in the morning?

Your laugh is tempered with a sigh.  Of course he wants you to check in with him.  Because Eddie is a good friend.

Sunny:

I can do that.

Eds 🎸:

Goodnight.

Sunny:

Night, Eds.

“Put your phone on Do Not Disturb,” Steve instructs as soon as he sees you send your final text.

“Bossy.”

“Angst-free zone.  We discussed this,” he says, motioning with his hands to the general area around the couch.

“No, you just declared it.”

“Potato, potahtoh.”

You shove your phone back into your purse and stand up, “I’m going to grab the alcohol.”

“Food should be here in thirty.  Need a hand?”

You give him a nod and hold a hand out to help him off the couch.

“I’ve managed to not burn down the kitchen!” Robin says as she rounds the kitchen island and plops down on the couch, shoveling in a mouthful of popcorn.

“I’m giving you the honor of picking out tonight’s movie,” Steven begins, turning and pointing a warning finger at his friend, “Do not disappoint me.”

She rolls her eyes and flicks on the television, “I think I can manage, dingus.”

He gives her an inscrutable look, obviously highly doubting her ability to manage, and follows you down the hallway to the basement door.

You nudge Steve with your elbow, “Thank you for doing this.  I know there are a lot more exciting things you could be doing with your Friday night.”

Steve just shrugs, “More exciting than hanging out with one girl who verbally abuses me and another who's achingly in love with Eddie Munson?  How do you figure that?”

You click on the light and make your way down the stairs to the bar area your mom has in the back of the basement.  She has one of those fancy jobs where she’s gifted with copious amounts of alcohol in all its various forms.  But between the fancy job and the flavor of the week, she’s never home, she’ll never miss a bottle or two.  Even if she did notice, you’re not sure that she would give a shit.

“You mean to tell me you didn’t have a hot date lined up for tonight?”

Steve gives you a humorless laugh as he sidles up beside you, “Yeah, no.  Girls don’t really want to date the loser who didn’t get into college and works at a sailor-themed ice cream shop.”

“You’re not a loser, Steve.”   

You’re offended on his behalf.  Even if he could no longer claim the throne of Hawkins as “King Steve,” he was anything but a loser.  You’d known him tangentially as the big man on campus, and you watched as he evolved into the protective, humble, goofy, and still tragically handsome unofficial leader of your group of misfits.  The kids (Mike, Lucas, Will, Max, El, and especially Dustin) adore him.  Robin teases him to no end, but trusts him implicitly.  And you are constantly surprised by his ability to actually listen and now most likely be a shoulder to cry on.

He scoffs as you hand him a couple of bottles, “You’ve seen the uniform I wear at work, correct?”

You laugh as you grab a few more bottles, you want to have a selection to choose from if the three of you are going to get trashed.

“Yes, and I think it’s adorable.”

“Adorable?” Steve puffs out his chest and he deepens his voice, “What grown man wants to be adorable?  What about handsome?  Virile?  Rugged?”

You turn to face him fully and look him dead in the eye.  You’re the only one who’s allowed to be self-deprecating tonight, “Stevie, you’re that and so many more nouns and adjectives.  In my opinion, ‘loser’ isn’t one of them.”

He gives you a wide smile and then shakes his head almost indulgently at you releasing a sigh.

“What?”

“Munson is an idiot.”

“No he’s not,” you say with a replying shake of your own head as you turn and lead him back up the staircase, “He just doesn’t feel the same way.”

You reach the top of the steps and switch off the light.  You start off toward the kitchen when Steve sidesteps you, holding his arm out to block your path, and you halt in front of him.  He stares down at you with a pointed look.

“Like I said, idiot.”

For some godforsaken reason, you start blushing, the heat rising from the back of your neck, up to your ears and around to paint your cheeks.

“Stop, Harrington, you’re making me blush.”

“You look cute when you blush.”

You give him a smile, but decide to ignore the comment and the way your heart might’ve fluttered.  The last thing you’re going to dwell on is Steve Harrington thinking you’re cute in any way, shape or form.

Rounding the kitchen island, you both sit your bottles down and you take inventory of what you grabbed.   

“Uh, I’ve got…” you squint, “Tequila, vodka, rum, and gin.  What’s your poison?”

“They’ll all get me drunk, correct?” Robin asks, turning to you with a mouthful of popcorn.

“Indeed they will.”

“What mixers do we have?”

You go to the fridge and fling it open, peering inside, “Orange juice, grape juice, various sodas…”

Steve pushes you out of the way and grabs the orange juice, “I’m making screwdrivers.  You two pick a movie.  Food will be here soon.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” Robin says with a mock salute.

You leave the mixing of drinks in Steve’s capable hands and go to sit on the couch.  Robin is on one end, you on the other, as she flips through streaming services until she finds the one she wants.  You relax into your seat and pull a blanket over your body.  

You’re with your friends, food is on the way, and in a matter of minutes, you’re going to be well on your way to getting trashed.  Even though the night didn’t end the way you planned, you’re with people you care about and eventually, you have to be ok.

Don’t you?

Notes: What are we thinking? I'm a sucker for some friends to lovers. I'm a sucker for a love triangle. Just call me a lollipop. I should have through Chapter Four posted soon. Those are already on my AO3

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You wake up with a crick in your neck and a pounding behind your eyes.  After marathoning The Fast and the Furious franchise up through Tokyo Drift (Steve’s favorite), eating your body weight in crab rangoons, and downing your fair share of screwdrivers, the three of you had passed out in the living room.

Robin had made her way to the floor sometime in the middle of the night and is now sprawled in a heap of blankets at your feet.  You and Steve have migrated to opposite ends of the couch, legs tangled in the middle.  You’re sweltering under your shared afghan, Steve throwing off heat like a furnace, and your mouth is dry as the Sahara.

“Ugh,” a moan emanates from the heap of blankets.

“You ok, Birdie?” you ask in a voice that sounds like gravel.

“That’s a definitive no.  How about you?”

“I’ve felt better.”

“What time is it?”

Without getting up, you stretch your arm down to the floor searching for your purse.   You finally find it and pull out your phone.  You squint against the too-bright light, “It’s eight AM.”

“Will you two shut up and go back to sleep?” Steve mumbles into his pillow.

A pillow flies through the air and connects with Steve’s head.

“Ow!  What was that for?” he asks, sitting up and throwing off the afghan.

“For being a dingus, dingus!”

You want to laugh at their antics, but your head is killing you.  There definitely was not enough water consumed in between the drinks.

“I need an ibuprofen,” Steve mumbles.  He stretches and attempts to crack his neck.  His hair is sticking up at all angles.  It’s kind of adorable.

“Ditto,” comes a response from the heap of blankets.

You sit up and fight the wave of nausea that comes with it, “I’ll grab some.”

“Bless you,” Robin says as she finally sits up.

With a strength you didn’t know you possessed, you haul yourself up from the couch and hobble your way around the island into the kitchen proper.  You grab the ibuprofen and decide to start a pot of coffee while you’re at it.  Copious amounts of caffeine is the only thing that’s going to get you out of the house this morning.

“What’s on the agenda for the day?” you ask the living room at large while you fiddle with the coffee pot.  

“I need food,” is Robin’s immediate answer.

A big greasy breakfast sounds like the answer to all of your prayers and quite possibly the worst thing you could imagine all wrapped in one.  It’s never failed to cure a hangover, though.

“Benny’s?” you ask as the coffee starts to percolate.

“Benny’s sounds amazing.  I need pancakes to soak up all the vodka sloshing around in my stomach.”

“Jesus, don’t remind me,” Steve says with a groan.  You see him place a hand over his stomach, “We drank the whole bottle.”

“You were the bartender,” Robin reminds him, “And Jesus you like a heavy pour.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining last night.”

Robin chooses not to respond and simply shrugs her shoulders at him.  You chuckle.

“Who wants coffee?” you ask as you grab the creamer from the fridge.

Both of them raise their hands and you pull three mugs down from the shelf.  Robin prefers hers black, Steve likes his so sweet you could get cavities, and you just want a glug of creamer.  You appreciate doing something you don’t have to think about.  Your brain is still cloaked in vodka, and stringing together thoughts beyond what you’re doing at the current second is beyond you.  You pour coffee by rote and fix everyone’s to their preference.

You stuff the ibuprofen in your pocket and bring it and the coffee around to the couch and sit everything down on the coffee table.  Robin manages to scoot herself closer to the table, a blanket pulled over her so you can only see her face.  Steve is positioned upright, but with his elbows to his knees, hands running through his hair roughly.

“I’m never drinking again,” Steve mumbles into his palms.

You reach over and pat his back, pulling the ibuprofen from your pocket and giving it a shake, you motion to the coffee on the table, “Sure you’re not, Stevie.”

You pass out the medication as everyone grabs their coffee.  After downing a few pills and taking a few sips, you all sit in silence for a moment, trying to acclimate to the morning.  

You hadn’t had to endure any deep talks about your confession last night, but you knew that a further interrogation from Robin was imminent.  She’s not one to let anything sit and fester.  You’re just glad she hasn’t launched into it first thing.

“So,” Steve begins finally as he sits his coffee down on the table, “the plan for the day is breakfast first, then we’re going to the Starcourt.  You two can do some back to school shopping, I can mourn my youth.  Dustin messaged me something the other day about the kids going to the arcade, maybe we can go and kick their asses in air hockey?”

“Just what I love, spending a Saturday with Harrington and his brood,” Robin grumbles to you, hands wrapped around her mug.

“Hey!  Dustin’s been at camp all summer.  So sue me if I’ve missed the kid.”

“I think it’s sweet that you’ve missed your friend,” you tell him, “It’ll be nice to see them.”

“See?” Steve begins, glaring at Robin, “I’m sweet.”

“Keep telling yourself that, dingus.”

“Well, since we’re going out into the wild today, I’m definitely going to need a shower,” you say and receive grunts of agreement from your friends, “I smell like crab rangoons and sadness.”

“How about this?  I’m going to head home to take a shower.  I can drop Robin off on the way.  I’ll swing back by and get her.  Meet at the diner at ten?”

He looks at Robin and she nods her ascent, “Sounds good to me.”

You give him a thumbs up as you take a long pull from your mug, “Yeah, that’s fine.  I’ll see ya there.”

“Need any help cleaning up before we leave?” Robin asks as she untangles herself from the blanket.

“Nah.  I don’t expect my mom to be home anytime soon, and surprisingly, we didn’t make a huge mess.  You two go get ready and I’ll see you soon.”

Robin peers down at you with a knowing look as you walk them to the door, “Don’t think I’ve let you off the hook.  We’re going to talk later.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.  Now get a move on.”

You say your goodbyes and Robin and Steve head out to meet you later.  You’re grateful for the time alone.

You haven’t had any time to really process what happened.  Robin and Steve made sure you went straight from sad to sloshed.  Now that you’re standing in your living room alone, it hits you that you made a real big fucking change to your life last night.

Even though Eddie doesn’t return your romantic feelings, you’ve let the cat out of the bag and all your exchanges going forth are going to be seen in a new light.  Is he going to worry every time that you brush his shoulder that it’s some sort of untoward gesture?  Is he going to think that every time you compliment him that you’re trying to flirt?

It’s never been like that with him.  You have never been affectionate or complimentary simply because you have feelings for him.  All of your interactions are genuine.  Eddie is genuinely your best friend – you just happen to also want to kiss him.

You shake your head and move out of the entryway up the steps to your room.  It’s not going to do any good to think about it right now.  If you do, you’re just going to worry yourself to death.  There’s already a growing pit in your stomach when you think about how other people are going to react if and when they find out what you’ve confessed.

Robin and Steve already knew your plan, and they’d of course been integral in pushing you to do it.  But the kids (with maybe the exception of Max, who you’re sure has you figured out), Eddie’s friends in Corroded Coffin, Uncle Wayne – when they hear about it, you’re going to be well and truly mortified.

And you hate it.  You hate that admitting your feelings for someone you care about – someone you love – and not having them returned in the way you want makes you feel that way.  You wish you could own your decision and just be proud that you were brave enough to do it.  But you feel like a damn coward.

Love is vulnerable.  It’s not something you’ve felt for many people.  And it’s something that has been returned even less often.

You’ve never known your father, you know nothing except that you share the same last name.  There’s no love lost between you and the giver of half of your DNA.  He’d walked out on you and your mom when you were too young to even remember his face.  It was the classic “going to the store for milk” scenario in which he fucked off to god knows where and left your mom stuck with an infant and a mortgage.  So while you never loved him because you never really had the chance, he was the first integral figure of your life that shaped your ability to love.

Then there is your mother.  You like to think she means well – that she loves you and is simply unequipped to adequately deal with the hormonal woman-child you are becoming when she has no partner to help her – but she basically leaves you to your own devices, dropping by whenever she feels like it to grab a change of clothing or whatnot in between staying with whatever boyfriend or going on whatever work trip.  Sometimes she’ll stay for a couple of consecutive weeks and ask you how school’s been and if you’re keeping your grades up.  She transfers money into your account for food and clothes, and she makes sure the bills are paid.  But you’ve been mostly raising yourself for the past few years.  You love her and you're pretty sure she loves you, but she’s just never there.

The loss of the man that should’ve been her partner in raising you, then the loss of her best friend who had become her partner in raising you, has shaped her into someone who likes to keep people at arm’s length, including her child.  You’re pretty sure a therapist would have a field day with the situation.

Uncle Wayne is honestly your greatest parental influence, and the love you feel for him is infinite.  He checks in on you, makes sure you’re fed and watered, but the poor man has been on his own with Eddie for years and you can’t put the pressure on him to take the emotional load of a teenage girl with no relation to him when he’s got a teenage nephew who already relies on him.  

You know he would if you were ever open about it.  If you went to him and told him how adrift you felt without your mom or a father around, he'd swoop in and do everything in his power to be your knight in shining armor.  But there’s no way you are ever going to put that burden on him.

It’s why you’ve always relied on Eddie so much.  If you have a problem and can’t fix it yourself, he’s always your number one.  If someone tries to bully you, Eddie’s wrath and cutting words descend on them like a storm.  If you need an oil change, Eddie’s got you covered.  If you want someone to stay the night because you’re so tired of being alone, Eddie’s right there with a smile and an adventure.  The two of you have been filling the gaps of absent parents and worn out uncles since you’ve known each other.

You’re starting to come to the creeping realization that Eddie’s not always going to be there for you in the ways he’s been before, and it creates a hollow space in your chest.  

You’re planning on going to Indiana University Bloomington next year with Robin as long as you’re both accepted.  He’ll be staying in Hawkins.  He already has a mechanic job lined up as long as he graduates this time.  You’ll be living two separate lives with only the occasional visit and cell phones to bridge the gap.  Then, one day, he’s going to find a partner that will need his time and attention, and you’re not going to be able to simply call him to come over and watch a movie or fix your car or go on an adventure.

It’s daunting and scary.  It’s almost breathtaking when you let your mind wander to having to be vulnerable to someone else who doesn’t know how you’ve become who you are – who hasn’t been there for the tears of disappointment after disappointment.

But you’re not going to let yourself think about that anymore for the time being.  You’re going to take a shower, get dressed, and meet Robin and Steve at Benny’s.  It’s one thing to have a pity party when there are other people around.  It’s another thing to have a pity party solo and let yourself spiral into what could inevitably become you crying on the floor of your bedroom.

So you do just that and pull into the parking lot right as you see Robin and Steve hop out of his car.  They greet you with a wave as you park, get out, and head toward them.

“God, I’m starving!” Robin exclaims as she pulls you into a hug.

“Well, let’s get you fed, Birdie,” you reply as the two of you walk in the diner arm and arm, Steve leading your way.

As a kid with an absent parent, you spent your fair share of time in Benny’s Burgers until you learned to cook for yourself.  Worn vinyl seats, an old jukebox that hasn’t been updated since the mid nineties, the smell of hot grease and coffee, it brings a smile to your face every time you’re there.  Benny catches your eye from the kitchen window and gives you a small wave which you return.  He’s always said you're his favorite customer.

Robin finds a booth and slides into one side, Steve on the other.  You slide in next to Steve as Robin passes out menus.

“I’ve got breakfast,” you tell them as you look over the selections, “You two came in clutch last night, so it’s my treat.”

“No way am I letting you pay for my breakfast,” Steve says, turning to you and shaking his head.

“Why not?”

“Because a gentleman never lets a lady pay.”

A laugh escapes your mouth before you can stop it, but Steve seems serious. 

“You may be a gentleman, Stevie, but I am no lady.  Don’t you think that’s a bit old-fashioned?  Besides, you make Robin pay all the time.”

He takes the menu from your hand and looks you up and down as much as he can when you’re sitting in a diner booth, “You are definitely a lady, sweetheart.  And I think our generation could use a little more old-fashioned gentlemen.  I’m paying, and I’m getting yours too, Buckley.”

Robin just smiles at the exchange between the two of you.  You’re still pondering his use of sweetheart.

“Can I have my menu back, at least?” you ask and hold out your hand, palm up.  He just places the menus in their holder behind the condiments.  You put your hand back in your lap.

“Why?  You get the same thing every time.”

“And what is that, pray tell?”

“Eggs over medium, bacon, and hashbrowns.”

Even though it is what you order every time, you’re surprised Steve has it memorized.  

“It’s because I prefer –”

Steve cuts you off, “Savory, not sweet.  I know.”

He gives you a cocky grin and you can’t help but smile back.

“Are you savant with people’s food orders or something?”

“No, I just happen to know how to listen.”

“You gonna be all gentlemanly and order for us too, Harrington?” Robin asks with a wry grin.

“Whatever my ladies desire,” he says as he exaggeratedly stretches his arms, his left landing across your shoulders.  He uses it to pull you in closer to him, so close you can see every freckle on his face, “You gonna let me pay for your breakfast, sweetheart?”

“I guess so, Stevie.”

You do the blush thing again, but choose to ignore it.

The waitress picks the perfect time to stop by your table.  She takes your drink and food orders and scurries back to the kitchen while you will your body to stop fucking blushing at Steve Harrington.  It’s kinda hard though when he still hasn’t moved his arm from your shoulder.

“So I think I’ve come up with the perfect game plan,” Robin begins, surprisingly deciding she’s not going to mention the shoulder thing or the blush thing at the moment.

You both look at her expectantly.

“Shoes first.  I’m working with a budget and I definitely need a new pair of Chucks.  Can’t get them if I blow all of my money on jeans first.  Then, clothes.  Accessories if we must.  Vickie’s going to meet us by the way,”  she gives Steve a pointed look staring down her nose at him, “And I promise, Harrington, that we’ll stop at the arcade to see your newly-returned-from-camp child.”

“Benevolent as ever, Robs,” he says with a roll of his eyes.

“Sounds good to me. I need a little bit of everything.”  Shopping isn’t anything you’re ever going to not agree to.

The waitress drops your drinks off and the three of you continue your idle chatter.  Meanwhile, Steve’s arm never quite leaves your shoulder.  It’s quite comforting so you don’t mention anything, and neither does Robin even though she keeps covertly glancing at it.

“How are you feeling about everything this morning?” she asks.

“Fine, I guess.  I’ve been thinking about things…”

“That sounds ominous.  What kind of things?”

“I’ve just come to the realization that Eddie and I are getting older.  I’ll be going off to college next year, and he’s not going to be there.  And maybe I’m a little too dependent on him.  There’s not a lot I don’t do that doesn’t either involve him, or hell, even revolve around him.  I should probably, you know, start learning how to be good with myself without him being my buffer.”

Robin nods, “I think that’s a noble pursuit.  Do you have any ideas?”

You bring your elbows up on the table, propping your chin atop your hands.  Steve’s arm slides off your shoulders and down your back before it settles next to you.  You decide not to analyze the missing warmth.

“I don’t know.  I was thinking maybe you two could help with that.  I mean, we hang out,” you motion a hand around the table at them, “but I know that I’ve blown you both off because Eddie has had some wild idea and insisted I join him.  I need you guys to keep me honest about this.  And I’m not trying to transfer my dependency from him to you, but I’m not trying to be some friendless hermit.”

“I’m more than happy to have more of your time,” Robin tells you, “but you’re acting like you think he’s going to abandon you.”

“I don’t think he’s going to abandon me, but you and I are heading to college next year, and eventually he’s going to find a girlfriend or something and she’s going to take priority.  I don’t want to be the schmuck who’s left hanging because I let Eddie become the center of my universe.”

“I guess that’s fair,” Robin says with a contemplative look down at her coffee mug.

“What I’m trying to get at is maybe I need a new hobby or something.  I need to start nurturing my other friendships more.”

“Have you thought about auditioning for the choir at school?  Mr. Wade was moaning about losing half of his singers at the last marching band practice.  I’ve heard you sing.  You’re pretty good.”

You think about it for a second.  Singing is something you’ve never done seriously.  Your experience is limited to singing along with the radio, showing out at Corroded Coffin shows and helping Eddie write songs.  You can sight read music, though, which you’re sure is a step up from a lot of the other people in choir.

“That’s not a bad idea.  It could look good on my transcripts, too.”

“Like you need to worry about transcripts.”

“Maybe not, but I do need to worry about scholarships.”

“Touché.”

“I didn’t know you could sing,” Steve interjects.

“I mean, I can carry a tune.  Don’t go thinking I’m Tammy Thompson or anything.”

That elicits a laugh from them both.

“There’s no need to be modest among friends, Sunny,” Robin says with a tilt of her head as the waitress comes back with your food, “You have a beautiful voice.”

Your meal is placed in front of you and your stomach grumbles.  For the most part, the headache portion of your hangover is gone, but the churning slosh of vodka remains and can only be defeated with Benny’s greasy breakfast.

“I will take your compliment with a smile and suggest we move on to more interesting topics.”

Robin nods as she spreads butter over her pancakes, “Let’s talk about Steve.”

Steve stops with a fork halfway to his mouth, “What about Steve?”

“How’s your love life?” she asks with raised eyebrow and a smile.

“Sunny said interesting topics.  My love life is boring.”

“Didn’t you just go on a date with that Hannah girl the other night?”

“Yeah, and it was far from interesting.”

“Please, do tell.”

Steve shakes his head, but acquiesces, letting his fork fall to his plate with a clatter, “She was texting her ex the whole night.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because she showed me!  She was giving him a minute by minute play by play of our entire date.  I guess she was trying to make him jealous or something.  She texted him every time I so much as held the door open for her.”

“Poor Steve,” you mutter around a mouthful of food.

“Poor Hannah if her ex couldn’t even hold open a door for her,” is Robin’s reply.

Steve picks his fork back up and starts on his waffles, “I walked her to the door when I dropped her off and she kinda stood there like she was waiting for a kiss.  She had her phone in her hand…I think she was going to try and get a picture or something.”

“Stevie, where do you find these girls?”

It’s a serious question.  Steve is a great guy.  You’ve always wondered why he’s had such a hard time finding a girl worth his while.  He’s handsome, loyal, and a good friend.  He should have ladies lined up out the door.

“Fucking dating apps.  I hate them.”

You give him a gentle pat on the back, “The great King Steve resorting to dating apps.  Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Don’t mock me.  It’s hard out there.  Don’t get me wrong, I like a good hook up as much as the next guy, but since when did people stop wanting to be in relationships?  Is it too much to ask to find a decent girl you can have a conversation with and make out with in one go?”

Robin seems to think about it for a second before she replies, “I’ve only been in a relationship with Vickie.  I got lucky.  She puts up with all of my idiosyncrasies and I adore her.  She’s a goddess among women.”

“And you?”  Steve looks at you expectantly.  You hope he doesn’t want any relationship advice, because you have none to share.

“I’ve never been in a relationship,” you tell him with a shrug of your shoulders, “I think being ‘freak’ adjacent cut down my prospects.  And let’s be honest, it’s Hawkins, it’s not like I have a lot of them to begin with.”

“Never, like, never?” Steve asks in disbelief.

“Not a one.”

“Have you, I don’t know, kissed anyone before?” he dares to ask, both eyebrows reaching toward his hairline.

Your face flushes as both Robin and Steve stare at you, waiting for an answer.  All you can do is shake your head.

“I refuse to believe that,” Steve says with a scoff.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Stevie.  I’ve never kissed anyone.  I’ve never held hands with a guy that’s not Eddie.  My roster is completely blank.”

“Well, I know what we’re doing with our senior year,” Robin says with finality.

You don’t know if you like the sound of that, “Um, what are we doing exactly?”

“We’re gonna get you kissed.”

You sputter on your drink as you go to take a sip, “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“It’s absolutely necessary.  You’re not going off to college having never been kissed.”

“Steve, talk some sense into your friend,” you tell him, pointing a finger at Robin while you mop up the mess you made with your drink.

“No can do, Sunny.  I agree with Robin on this one.”

“I’m not gonna go just kiss some random guy,” you say as you take your final bite and lean back against the vinyl.

“No one said it had to be some random guy,” Robin tells you as she pushes her empty plate toward the middle of the table, “We’ll find you someone super hot.”

“And nice,” Steve adds, “We’ll make sure he’s nice, too.”

“Let me think about it.”

Steve catches the eye of the waitress, letting her know that he wants the check.  Then he turns to look at you earnestly.

“We’re gonna find you a nice, hot guy to kiss, hell, maybe even go on a few dates.  There’s nothing to think about.  Just let us do all the work.”

You look at Robin and she just gives you a reassuring smile, “Right now though, we’re going shopping.”

True to his word, Steve pays for breakfast and then you’re all headed toward your vehicles to go to the Starcourt.  They wave goodbye and yell for you to meet them at the food court entrance.

As you drive, you keep running the end of the conversation with Robin and Steve over and over in your head.  You’ve never really thought about kissing anyone other than Eddie.  You’re a little surprised that the prospect of them finding you someone to kiss doesn’t immediately fill you with apprehension.

You would never admit it out loud, but you figured that your first kiss would always be  with Eddie, even if it wasn’t a “real” kiss.  Like maybe you would ask him to help you practice or something.  That whole romance novel, teen movie cliche.  Now, it feels a little empowering that you’re going on a hunt to find the perfect person to help you break the metaphorical seal.

Even though you still feel the pang of embarrassment when you let yourself think about it too hard, it seems as if telling Eddie the truth has opened other avenues for you to explore.  You definitely wouldn’t be headed to the mall with Robin and Steve if you’d stayed at Eddie’s for a movie last night – you probably wouldn’t even be up yet.  The day would’ve been filled with helping Eddie work on his return campaign for the upcoming school year or working on another guitar solo he wanted to perfect.

Now, as laughable and solidly “teenage girl” as it is, you’re planning on how to get kissed and how to spend as much of your mom’s money as you can on clothes. 

You pull into a spot next to Robin and Steve and you all head in through the food court.  You’re immediately assaulted with the conflicting smells of cinnamon buns and Chinese food.  Fortunately, Benny’s breakfast has worked its magic and you don’t instantly want to hurl.

“Lead us, my queen,” you tell Robin with a hand outstretched toward the stores.

Robin grabs your hand and you spend the next couple of hours dragging Steve from store to store.  He’s a good sport about it.  You and Robin try on outfit after outfit, Steve judging them on a scale from 1 to 10 as you hop in and out of changing rooms.  He only makes you blush once.

You come out of your dressing room wearing a soft, cotton sundress.  It’s not really something you’d normally wear, but you love the color and Robin had shoved it in your hands, insisting that you try it on.  When you looked at yourself in the mirror, you thought it looked good.  It highlights your figure and will be something nice to wear while the August heat is still blazing down.

Steve gasps when he notices you, but he quickly tries to hide it with a cough.  He stares for a second, saying nothing, but his eyes roam up and down your body.  He swallows heavily as he finally makes eye contact.

“How does it look?”

“Um, nice – y-yeah, it’s great,” Steve sputters.

Robin peaks her head out of her own dressing room.  She gives you an appreciative look.

“I told you you had to try it on.”

“You should get that one,” Steve tells you in almost a whisper as he averts his eyes.

The sundress is added to the purchases you make that day.

You make a pit stop back at the food court for giant pretzels before the three of you head to the arcade.  Steve has already confirmed via text that the kids are there, and when you arrive, they’re waiting at the entrance, Dustin in front.

Steve and Dustin greet each other with hugs having not seen each other for most of the summer.  You find it to be adorable while Robin laughs and rolls her eyes.  She still laments that she inherited kids along with her friendship with Steve.  You love it.

Dustin is the smartest person you’ve ever met, and he loves to let people know it.  He’s one of the kids you know best because of his additional relationship with Eddie.  They are two peas in a pod when it comes to anything D&D.

Max is slowly becoming one of your ride-or-dies next to Robin.  She’s so tenacious, and much like Robin, she can also read you like a book.  You never have to wonder where you stand with her.

You’ve gotten to know Lucas mostly through Max, but you love that he loves her, and that’s enough for you.  He’ll be playing basketball during the upcoming school year, and you’re in pep band, so you'll see more of him at the games.

Mike is mostly sarcasm and snark, which you appreciate.  Not a lot of bullshit with that kid.  Much like Max, you always know where you stand with him.  

Eleven is quiet, almost secretive in nature, but when she speaks, the kids listen.  You admire her for that.  

And you’ve always had a soft spot for Will.  He has always been so quiet and reserved.  He doesn’t like to take up a lot of space.  He tends to leave that to the bigger personalities of the group.  He reminds you a lot of yourself, and you just want to give the kid a damn hug.

Everyone is chatting and catching up when Dustin looks over to you.

“Where’s Eddie?”

You’re not surprised that he asks you.  The two of you are usually always together.

“I don’t know.  We didn’t hang last night.”

“What do you mean, you didn’t hang last night?  It’s Friday.  Movie night.”

Dustin has been a frequent casualty to your movie nights with Eddie.  He learned quickly that he is persona non grata on Friday nights.  Eddie takes the tradition seriously.

“I was with Robin and Steve last night.”

Dustin gives you a look like you’re speaking a foreign language.  Max, who is the only one so far that has been paying attention to your conversation with Dustin, steps between you two.

“Oh my god, did you tell him?” Max asks.

Dammit.  She’d been listening in to your conversations with Robin and Steve.

“Huh?” you ask, your face suddenly flaming with heat.  

You’re having a serious inability to act casual – trying to go for nonchalant, but you fear the high pitch of your voice and the widening of your eyes has given you away.

Max clocks your expression.  You can’t get anything past her.  It’s one of the things you love most about her, but right now you wish she could be a tad bit stupider.

“Oh my god, you told him.”

“Told who what?” Dustin asks.  The poor boy is so confused.

You turn to Robin and Steve and give them a look that hopefully conveys that you have no idea what to do and you want them to intercede.  Neither one of them seems to comprehend.

“She told Eddie that she likes him,” Max tells the curly-haired boy.

“No shit she likes him.  They’re best friends.”

“No you idiot.  She told him that she like likes him.”

For a second, Dustin is speechless, which hardly ever happens.  His jaw drops open and he looks at you like he’s seeing you for the very first time.

“But Eddie likes Chrissy.”

At that moment, it’s like a bomb drops in the middle of the mall but you’re the only one who caught shrapnel.  It feels like you’ve been dealt a physical blow.  The world stops for a split second and you can’t breathe.

“Chrissy Cunningham?”

Robin and Steve quickly catch on to the severity of the conversation by that change in your tone.  They both move closer to you.

“Oh shit, you didn’t know?” Dustin questions. 

“No Henderson, I didn’t know,” it comes out a little harsher than you intend, but you really can’t help it, “If I’d’ve known that I could have saved myself the humiliation of confessing my feelings to my best friend.”

“Oh shit.”

“You said that already.”

Hands at your sides, your thumbs hitch themselves over your pointer fingers and you press down to crack the knuckles.  The pop isn’t as satisfying as you hoped it would be.

Eddie has a crush on Chrissy and he’s never said a word about it.

“He’s never said anything about her,” is all you can say.

You look around at everyone gathered, they’ve all stopped what they were doing to listen in.  And they all have that part sad, part pitying look on their faces.  Everyone except Dustin apparently, knows that you have feelings for Eddie, and now they also know that he is interested Chrissy fucking Cunningham.

You couldn’t be more surprised if you tried.  Eddie has mentioned people he’s found attractive before – celebrities, the odd schoolmate, random people you ran across on your adventures – and Chrissy Cunningham is not that type.  Not at all.

But it’s not even so much the fact that it’s the head cheerleader of Hawkins High that he’s crushing on, it’s the fact that he’s never said a word about it.  You have not had one inkling that Eddie has been intent on Chrissy.  

Not to portray yourself as a complete coward, but you know that you would’ve never said anything to Eddie about how you felt if you knew that there was someone else already taking up that space.  Especially someone like Chrissy, someone who is seemingly your complete opposite. 

She’s popular, bubbly, and sweet.  And if her last boyfriend is anything to go by, she has shit taste in men.  She walks through the halls with a smile on her face for everyone.  She’s never snarky.  She’s a shoo in for Homecoming Queen.  You don’t know anything about her home life, but you do know Mr. and Mrs. Cunningham are still together, and you’ve seen them browse the entertainment store where you work, holding hands. 

How are you supposed to compare to Chrissy Cunningham?

“Oh shit,” Dustin mutters again.

“Getting a little repetitive there, Henderson,” Robin says as she comes up to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder.  She asks where only you can hear, “You okay?”

You nod a little stiffly, “I’m fine, but I think I’m gonna go home.”

One thing you’re not going to do is have a breakdown in front of the kids.  They’re all still staring at you, gauging your reaction, but you’ve gone static.  Your body is just buzzing with an odd type of energy, like a current is running underneath your skin.

“Do you want me to take you home?” Steve asks, coming up on the other side of Robin.

You look up at him and shake your head, “No.  I’m good.  Thanks for today.”

He grasps your forearm and gives it a little squeeze, “Anytime, Sunny.  Let me know when you get home?”

“Yeah, call us if you need us.  We can always come over again tonight.”

“N-no, that’s okay.  I think I need some alone time.”

“I think that’s the last thing you need.”

“Not now, Robin,” Steve tells her with a stern look.

Robin lets you go reluctantly, and you make sure you have all of your bags.  You thank Robin and Steve again and say your goodbyes to the kids and start walking to your car, barely feeling your feet touch the ground.

You throw your stuff in the backseat and slam the door a little too hard.  

Eddie has liked Chrissy for god knows how long and hasn’t said anything to you.

It’s a real “what the fuck” moment.

The two of you have shared everything with each other.  God damn, you even shared with him that you have feelings for him and he said nothing about Chrissy.  You’re sure that if Dustin knows, you’re sure that Gareth and Jeff know, too.

For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, you drive home in tears because of Eddie Munson.  

You don’t even know what you’re going to say to him when you decide to call him.  Or maybe you shouldn’t call him.  You should text him.  It’s always been easier for you to get your thoughts across when you text.  And he definitely won’t know you’ve been crying if you stick to text.

“What is my life?” you mutter to your steering wheel as you pull into your driveway.

Now, you’re just tired and you want to be alone.  You don’t want to talk about anything.  You don’t want to analyze anything.  You’re going to get in your bed and take a nap and forget about Eddie Munson for a few hours.

Notes: I feel like I've reverted back to my teenage years when I write this story. Let me know what you think and if you'd like to be tagged. I will more than likely post the next two chapters I already have written some time tonight or in the morning. Thank you for reading!

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It started with a crush – a stupid, hopeless, completely one-sided crush on Johnny Storm.  Because of course it did.  He was everything loud and bright and untouchable, almost your antithesis.  You were the lab tech.  He was a goddamn astronaut.  You were the one who stayed late at the lab going over test results.  Johnny was out late at night clubs charming all the females in a ten mile radius.  You were the one who actually understood the equations Reed Richards scribbled faster than anyone else could read – it’s why he hired you.  Johnny was smart as a tack, but he liked to use those smarts for nefarious purposes, such as annoying his brother-in-law.

You told yourself it didn’t matter.  It was just a crush.  You weren’t in love with Johnny.  You told yourself that being near them – near him – was enough.  And it was.  That is until it wasn’t.

The experiment wasn’t supposed to go wrong.   Reed’s experiments never went wrong.  And it never occurred to you that Reed was fallible.  He had checked the calculations three times, and you’d checked them twice more.  It was what you appreciated about each other, that between the two of you, everything was checked.  

But science didn’t care about your checks. It most certainly didn’t care about your feelings.  It unequivocally didn’t care about the fact that Johnny had been leaning in the doorway, smirking at the two of you, distracting you just enough to make you want to prove something.  To show off like he was always doing.

Then everything around you folded in on itself.  You folded, too.

It started with a crush, and it ended with a crush.

And you were gone.

The Quantum Realm wasn’t a place so much as it was a feeling.  There were no walls to let you know there were boundaries, yet you felt caged all the same.  

There was just space.  It was endless.  It was disorienting.  Time didn’t pass so much as it slid.  Or it stretched.  Or it collapsed.  There was void and substance all at once.  

You didn’t know how long you were there.  It was long enough to forget what normal felt like.  Although it had gotten hard to remember what anything felt like.  It was long enough to wonder if you’d ever existed anywhere else.  If you ever existed.

Until something pulled you out.

Violently.

You woke up on a different Earth.

That’s what they told you.  They called it Earth-828.

Not yours.  Not really.  It was a facsimile of what you knew.  It was similar, but not even close.

The first face you remember seeing is of Bruce Banner.  He was calm and clinical as he asked you questions you couldn’t answer.  Then there was Tony Stark.  He was sharper, infinitely more skeptical, already trying to figure out how you worked.  Like you were a machine instead of a human.

You became a problem to solve.

An anomaly.

An Echo.

They ran tests – so many tests.  So much bloodwork you felt like a pin cushion.  So many scans you were worried about radiation.  So many cognitive evaluations you began to question your own memories. 

They weren’t cruel, but they weren’t gentle, either.  You understood why.  You were a scientist, too, after all.  You even cooperated, but it didn’t make the pokes and prods any easier.  Because when it was all said and done, when the data was logged and every theory was exhausted, there was only one conclusion:

They had no idea where you came from.  They had no idea how you got there.  And they had no way to send you back.

You did not adjust well.

How could you?

You didn’t belong in their world, even if it was so close to being your own, and they didn’t know what to do with you beyond keeping you around, and watching you like you had watched your own experiments.  It wasn’t as if they could let you loose into a world you knew nothing about. 

In the beginning, you didn’t even know if you wanted to adjust, or if you hoped you’d just disappear – carried off into the ether like you’d been carried off to Earth-828.

Sam Wilson was the first to try and befriend you.  He was the first to treat you like a person instead of a constant question mark.  He was easygoing, patient, never pushing too hard.  He gave you space to exist without expectation.  He taught you about current music and movies.  He tried to fill in the gaps between the different histories of your two worlds.  He also made you chocolate chip cookies.  

Natasha Romanoff followed.  She saw a lot of her younger self in you, though she’d never admit it.  You bonded in your shared sharp edges and sarcasm, in the shared understanding of what it meant to be used, displaced, remade into something you didn’t ask to be.  She didn’t need you to be less angry because she wasn’t less angry.  She just taught you how to channel all of your anger when she offered to start training you.  You took her up on it.

You clung to them shamelessly because not everyone made it easy.

You and Bucky Barnes did not get along.  Not at first.  And not for a long time.

Maybe it was because, like Natasha, he saw himself in you, but he saw too much.  Much like him, you were a person out of time, out of place – two people shaped by things they didn’t choose, reactive in ways neither of you could fully control.  He saw how you responded to Sam’s “modern day” teachings where he couldn’t.  He saw how you folded into Natasha’s routines where he wouldn’t.  It took you a while, but you were assimilating and opening up.  And he was still static.

You thought he was cold, unfeeling, judgmental, and overbearing.  He thought you were reckless, overly defensive, and nothing more than a liability.  The only thing the two of you could seem to do was clash.

Until you didn’t.

The first year passed.

You just started to feel like you were gaining traction in your new world.  You were feeling dangerously close to stable.

Just when you thought your life didn’t feel so bleak, just when you were making friends and building a life, Hydra took you.

They didn’t see an anomaly.  They saw pure, undiluted potential.

You didn’t know how they even learned of your existence, but they learned, and they were watching.  They bided their time until you were comfortable and they snatched you from Bruce’s personal lab where you had been working for the last few months, slowly returning to your life of science sidekick. 

It was almost like you’d gone back to the beginning, when you fell into Earth-828 for the first time.  When you’d come out of the Quantum Realm and into your new reality, you never thought anything could be worse or more jarring.  You were so wrong.

Hydra wanted to conduct experiments they claimed were just like the ones Bruce and Tony had conducted a year ago.  That was a lie.  You were restrained and held in a gray room with a bucket to relieve yourself in and one meal a day.  They wanted to study you, but there was nothing to study.  You were a regular, ole person…other than the fact you were from a different Earth.  

When sleep and food deprivation - and eventually torture - didn’t work, they injected you with something experimental.  You asked if it was similar to what they gave Bucky – you were a scientist too, after all – you were eternally curious even in the face of certain death.  They said it was not.  It was something designed to force evolution, to drag power out of you whether it existed or not.

It was like boiling lava.  It was colder than a glacier.  You shivered.  You sweated.  Your body contorted beyond what seemed capable.  And it didn't work.

At least, not right away.  At least, not in the way they planned.  

To Hydra, you were a failure.  You were a branch that needed to be cut.  You were the pup that the mother shunned.  They planned to cull you.

You were ready for it.  You made your peace and came to terms that you would never see Bruce or Sam or Natasha or hell, even Bucky, ever again.  You mourned for a second time the loss of Reed, Sue, Ben and Johnny.

The only regret you had was that you were going to leave this world far from your own as someone who belonged to nobody.  But to the team that came for you, you were still theirs.

You found out later that it was Bucky who pulled you out.

Bucky who raged when Bruce told him what happened.  Bucky who shut down in his room later as he let the word “Hydra” roll around in his brain.  Bucky who felt fear that night like he hadn’t felt since he fell from that train so many years ago.

He would not let you become another memory that haunted him.  He would not let himself live in regret for pushing you away because you could do what he couldn’t.

So he saved you, and something between you shifted.

It wasn’t all at once.  It started with coffee.  The first morning in the tower after you were discharged from the hospital, he asked how you liked it, and from then on, he had a perfectly poured cup waiting for you every morning. 

Then, he started training you.  Even though Hydra’s experiment seemingly hadn’t gifted you any powers, it had done to you what it had done to Bucky for the most part.  You were stronger.  You could run faster.  You healed quicker.  Now you needed what only he could give you - you needed control.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Natasha, but wanted to be able to feel the strength of your punches and see the quickness of your strikes.  He needed to know your every weakness inside and out so he could show you how to shore them up.  He needed you to be impenetrable.

He knew better than anyone that you needed structure.  You needed a way to feel like you weren’t constantly one step behind everything happening to you.

He hadn’t been given that luxury, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try his hardest to give it to you. 

So slowly, against all odds, the friction between you turned into something else.

Something steady.

Something safe. 

Your powers came the day everything almost went wrong.

There was a mission.  There was a mistake.  There was a  moment where Bucky was in the crosshairs and seconds away from dying. 

Something inside you snapped into place, like the final piece of a puzzle. 

Raw.  Uncontrolled.  Powerful.  You were a live wire. 

It was enough to save him.

It was enough to change everything.

After that fateful mission, there was never really a question.  You and Bucky became…something more.

It wasn’t perfect.  It most definitely wasn’t easy. But it was real. 

If only for a little while. 

Even if love is real, it can only bend so far before it breaks. 

He ended it.

You didn’t think it was because he didn’t care. You believed him when he told you he loved you.  He loved you in the way only James Buchanan Barnes could.  Unfortunately, that meant he pushed you away before something worse could take you from him.

You didn’t fight it.  You didn’t know how.  The man was an immovable object.  An unstoppable force. 

You couldn’t save him from himself. 

A year passed.

You taught yourself how to exist without him the way you once had to teach yourself how to exist without your world.

You resumed your training with Natasha.  You got stronger and sharper.  With Bruce’s help in figuring out the extent of your powers, you gained more control over whatever Hydra had awakened inside you.

Bucky was still there.  He was an Avenger after all.  But in your life, he lived in the periphery.  There were no more cups of coffee waiting for you in the morning.  

But you became part of the team in a way you hadn’t before.  Maybe in a way you couldn’t until Bucky stopped using himself as a shield to protect you from the world. 

You were no longer a guest.  You became something permanent.  Earth-828 was your world now. 

And then your past caught up to you in a spectacular fashion. 

In the middle of a battle - chaotic, desperate, the kind where everything blurs into instinct, where you had to trust your body to fill in the gaps for your kind - they appeared.

The Fantastic Four.

Much like you, they were different.   They had changed.   They had powers. 

You had almost started to believe you had imagined them and your life in your former world.  But they were there in all their glory. 

Somehow, they had crossed from Earth-616 into 828.

You saw them and the recognition was instant.  And when they saw you…they didn’t recognize you.

Not at first.

You couldn’t blame them. 

Because to them, you were someone they cared about who disappeared.  You were someone they lost.  You were someone who was never supposed to exist in this world at all.

And now you have to face them - with blood on your hands, ash decorating your face, scars that weren’t there when you were taken away. 

You have to face everything you left behind when you were ripped from your world.  Everything you’ve become.  Everything you’ve endured.  Everything you’ve done to become what is standing in front of them. 

You will be forced to face them and the question you’ve been avoiding since the moment you arrived:

If you ever get the chance to go home, would you even take it?

Superfluous Notes:

I'm new to posting fics on Tumblr, and even newer to formatting, so please be gentle.

Dear reader, if you are still here, thank you. I made my husband read this and he claimed he liked it, although I would say he's biased. I hope you enjoyed this, and I hope whatever else my brain spawns with this story will keep you entertained.

When Eddie wakes up it’s close to noon.  He throws an arm to his right, but all he hits is an empty mattress.  He frowns.  Usually you’re there, limbs sprawled, stealing the blanket from him.  You’re such a blanket hog he’d even gotten you your own for when you stay the night, but it’s still currently draped at the end of the bed where you folded it and left it last Saturday morning. 

Because you didn’t spend the night last night.  Last night you told him that you love him.

Eddie’s still not quite sure how he feels about it.  If he’s honest, he tried his best to not think of it.  Instead of having a horror movie marathon with you, which is what he’d usually do, he got high as fuck and crawled up on the top of his van to watch the stars and think about nothing.

Your confession has thrown him for a loop.  He’s never thought about you that way – at least he’s never let himself think about you that way.  You’re just Sunshine.  His best friend.  The girl, no, the person, who is always there for him.

He can still remember the feel of your hand in his at his mother’s funeral.  You squeezed it so tight that it hurt, but he didn’t mind because he was so numb that day that was all he could feel.  When his dad got sent to jail that final time, you sat with him in his new room at Uncle Wayne’s.  The two of you were on the floor in front of the bed, backs pressed against it.  Even though Wayne’s trailer wasn’t unfamiliar, it was still scary.  Eddie had never had a room of his own, and he never admitted it, but being in there all alone at night made his chest seize up a bit.  That was the first time you spent the night with him, your head beside his on the pillows, your fingers laced in his so he felt anchored to something instead of spinning away aimlessly.

Eddie loves you, there’s no doubt.  And it’s not as if you’re unattractive.  But anytime those thoughts would come creeping in – thoughts about your lips, your hands, your smile – he pushed them down.  He left them down deep in his stomach where he pushed everything else that made him uncomfortable.  You and Wayne are the only true constants in his life, and he will be damned if he ruins that with his raging teenage boy hormones.

So, he pushes it down again before it can crawl up into his throat and threaten to choke him.  He sits up and throws his legs over the edge of the mattress and searches his nightstand for a hair tie.  Your scrunchie is there, just like it always is, patterned with little guitars.  He quickly throws his hair up as he glances around to see all the other ways you’ve painted yourself everywhere in his room.

There are a pair of worn Chucks near the door.  Eddie decorated them with little bats that matched his tattoos and his band name is etched across the tops of them, bold so everyone can see.  You are never ashamed to represent Corroded Coffin and you do it proudly.  There’s a composition book laying on top of his dresser.  It’s filled with notes and lyrics of songs you’ve written together.  There are songs the guys haven’t even seen.  Songs with words that are too personal for him to sing to a crowd.  A pile of your clothes sits at the bottom of his closet, one of the shirts is emblazoned with a Hellfire Club logo that you both decided didn’t look half as good as you thought it did before you had the shirts made.  There are only two of them in existence, and he owns the other one.  All along his walls are pictures of the two of you together at varying ages – birthday parties, nights at The Hideout, bonfires out near Lover’s Lake – there has not been a time in his life you haven’t been right there by his side.

Of course he loves you, but it will never be romantic.  It can never be romantic, because he refuses to lose you.  And that’s all there is to it.

He grabs his phone from the charger and checks to see if you messaged him like you promised you would, but there’s nothing.  He opens the message thread, smiling at the picture of the two of you dressed up from Halloween like he always does.  When he goes to send you a message, he sees that you’ve put your phone on Do Not Disturb.

Eddie frowns.  You never put your phone on Do Not Disturb.  That’s not the best sign, but he decides not to dwell on it.  He never likes to dwell on things that make him uncomfortable.  You said you needed space.  That’s all it is.

He doesn’t bother changing his clothes before he exits his room.  He just shoves his phone in the back pocket of his plaid pajama bottoms.  He still smells a little skunky, but Wayne isn’t stupid.  He might not explicitly know that Eddie deals, but he most definitely knows that Eddie smokes.

Wayne is piddling with a pan at the stove when Eddie spots him.

“I’d say good morning, but it’s after noon,” is Wayne’s greeting.

“I only have so many days until I have to go back to school, old man.  Give me some leeway.”

“No Sunshine today?” Wayne asks as he turns back to his pan.

“Uh, no.”

Wayne turns yet again to give him a look with narrowed eyebrows, “That was a tone.  Care to elaborate?”

Eddie looks down at his feet, not really knowing how to broach the subject of your confession.  Wayne will probably be elated to hear it.  He thinks the world of you.  He’s always said that whoever managed to make you fall in love with them would be the luckiest guy in the world.  Eddie doesn’t feel quite that lucky right now.

“She came by yesterday.”

“And?”

Eddie chews his bottom lip, bouncing back and forth on his toes.  He needs to just spit it out.

“Well, she kinda told me that she loves me.”

“No shit, boy,” Wayne says, deadpan, as he flips a pancake., “she’s loved you for seventeen years.”

“No, not like, Eddie-is-my-best-friend love.  Like, I’m-in-love-with-you love.”

Wayne is still for a moment, and the only sound is that of butter sizzling in a pan.  Eddie braces himself for impact, but nothing comes.

“Okay,” Wayne finally begins with a nod, sliding a pancake onto the stack by his elbow, “What did you say?”

“I told her that I love her too, obviously, but that I’m not in love with her.”

Wayne turns off the stove and sits the pan and spatula in the sink.  He says nothing as he grabs the plate of pancakes and brings them to the tiny table.  He sits down and motions for Eddie to do the same.  They take their normal seats, there are only three.  The third is your seat.  It’s where you always sit.  It’s where you’re supposed to be right now.  But you’re not.

Eddie wishes Wayne would just say something already.

“I’m assuming that’s why she didn’t stay.”

Eddie gives an internal sigh of relief that Wayne doesn’t ask him why he doesn’t love you like that.  It’s not really something he can explain.  If he tries to explain it, then he has to think about it.  Why doesn’t he love you romantically?  

That’s when he starts thinking about your lips, your hands, and your smile again.  It goes down, down, down in his stomach.

Get a grip, Munson.

Eddie just nods as he starts filling his plate with pancakes, “She went home.  She was pretty upset.  She said Robin and Steve were going to be with her.”

“Steve Harrington?”

Wayne knows about all of your friends.  You mention them frequently, the gang of people that Robin has been folding you into.  Eddie was good enough friends with Robin and the Hellfire boys, but he wasn’t really close to the rest of them.  He definitely wasn’t close to Steve Harrington.  He doesn’t like the way Wayne says Steve’s name.  Like it’s of some special interest to him.

“The one and only former king of Hawkins.”

“Interesting,” is all Wayne says as he starts cutting into his breakfast.

Eddie scrunches up his face.

“What’s so interesting about that?”

Wayne just shrugs his shoulders.

Eddie sits his fork down on his plate and stares intently at his uncle.  This is what Wayne always does.  He likes to make Eddie ruminate on things before he tells him what he’s thinking.

“He’s a pretty good looking guy.”

“And?”

“My Sunshine’s a pretty good looking girl?”

“Your point, Wayne?  Are you getting to it?”

“All I’m saying is she could do worse.”

“Don’t even put that out into the universe,” Eddie says with a scoff, “Harrington is definitely not her type.”

“And you’re so sure because?’

“Well, she said she was in love with me.  I don’t think Steve and I could be any more different if we tried.”

“Are you really that different?” Wayne asks.

“What do you mean?  We don’t look anything alike.”

“I don’t think she’s so shallow as to let looks be the only box she needs to check for who she loves.  I know she feels safe with you.  You make her laugh.  The two of you have been there for each other during a lot of tough situations.  From what she’s told me, Steve’s a decent guy, or at least a lot more decent than he used to be.  She’s never talked to me about how ‘hot’ he is.”

“She’s talked to you about him?”

When in the hell were you talking to Wayne about Steve Harrington?

“On occasion.  She’s told me he’s good with that group of kids you both hang out with.  And Robin seems to really like him.  I like that girl.  She’s not going to hang out with an asshole.”

“I guess he’s alright.”

Eddie hates to admit it, but Steve’s not a bad person.  Yeah, he used to be a royal dick, but Steve changed during his last year at Hawkins High.  Dustin worshipped the ground he walked on, and Wayne was right, Robin was never going to be friends with an asshole.  Neither would you, no matter how good he looked.

Both men are silent for a moment as they eat.  The only sounds are forks clanking on plates and slurps of coffee.  Wayne picks up his cup and cradles it in his hands, his expression suddenly serious.

“Was she okay?”

Eddie scrubs a hand over his face, “She was holding it together pretty well, but she was definitely hurt.”

He puts his hands down in his lap and stares down at his plate.  He can still see your face, how pale you went after he said the words “I’m not in love with you.”  Your eyes were brimming with tears that you didn’t want to fall.  All he wanted to do was wrap you in a hug and take it all back.  But that wasn’t something he could do.

The best he could do was push more feelings down into his stomach.

“She said she needed space and then she ran out like she was on fucking fire.”

“Have you checked on her?”

“I messaged her last night.  She seemed okay.  She was still being a nerd.  She said she was going to message me this morning, but I haven’t heard anything from her yet.  Her phone’s on Do Not Disturb.”

Wayne could tell that Eddie was a bit worried about that.

“Well, she did say she wanted space.”

“I understand that Wayne,” Eddie says pointedly as he pushes his plate away from him, “But I don’t want space.”

Wayne begins gathering up the plates and taking them to the sink for Eddie to take care of later.

“That ain’t your choice, bud.”

“I know.  Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

His phone vibrates in his back pocket and he pulls it out quickly, expecting a message from you.  But it’s not.  It’s a message he wasn’t expecting.  A smile crosses his face so big Wayne notices it from his peripherals.

“Who’s that?”

Wayne obviously hopes that it’s you, too. 

“Chrissy…” Eddie trails off.  

He hasn’t said anything about Chrissy to Wayne.  Or to you.  He’s only told Gareth and Jeff.  And Henderson, who found out because he’s so fucking nosy and likes to listen in on private conversations.

He doesn’t know why he hasn’t said anything to you.  If he’s honest with himself, it feels wrong.  If you were to keep something like that from him, he would be hurt.  Those are the types of things you tell your best friend.  But even before you told him that you loved him, the thought of telling you about Chrissy felt like one of those things that crawled up his throat, ready to choke him.  It was almost as if he couldn’t even get the words out.  Both Gareth and Jeff were mystified as to why he was keeping it a secret.  They were almost as good of friends to you as they were to him, and they didn’t appreciate having to keep it a secret.

The two of you basically know everything about each other.  And you were brave enough to tell him about your feelings, even if he’s still not sure what to do about that – what to feel about that.  It’s like he’s lying to you by omission, and it’s just another thing he shoves down to his stomach, thinking about what might happen if you find out before he’s able to tell you.

“Cunningham?  The cheerleader?”

Wayne’s question interrupts his thoughts.

Eddie nods, ignoring the obvious inquiry in Wayne’s voice.  He opens his phone to read the message.

Chrissy

Hi

Eddie

Hi

Chrissy

Missed you at Tina’s party last night.

Eddie

Sorry.  Movie night.

Chrissy

It’s okay.  I understand.

Eddie had been dealing at a party about a month ago.  Chrissy had seeked him out for some herbal refreshment.  She was at a party for the first time without that asshole Jason Carver and just wanted to have some fun.  Eddie was his charming self, they talked a little, one thing led to another, and suddenly they were making out in the back of his van.  

It happened again the next week at the mall.  Chrissy was there with some friends, Eddie was there with you.  She spotted him and snuck off to his van a little while later – after her friends left, after you left.  Chrissy even let him cop a feel that time.

They’ve been sneaking off to make out ever since then.  

They exchanged numbers and sent flirty messages to each other.  Eddie loved the idea of clandestine meetings at first, but it was getting a bit old.  He doesn’t like keeping something like that from you.  Especially after your confession.  

And even though Chrissy is hot as fuck, he doesn’t like being someone’s dirty secret.

“I’m going to my room,” Eddie says, ignoring the look from Wayne that he still hasn’t acknowledged, “I’ll get the dishes in a minute.”

“We’ll be talking about this later,” Wayne calls out to him. 

Eddie waves a hand in acknowledgment as he scurries into his room, slams the door and locks it.

He’s just going to pull the trigger.  He’s going to ask Chrissy on an actual date – where there are actual people around.  All she can say is no, that she doesn’t want to go on a date with him.  That can’t be the worst thing in the world.

Unless she decides she also doesn’t want to make out with you anymore.

He shakes his head.  He can’t be defeatist about this.  Yes, Chrissy is the most popular girl at Hawkins.  Yes, Chrissy is head cheerleader.  Yes, Chrissy is super fucking hot.  But they’ve been hooking up for the past month, ever since she broke up with Jason.  That has to mean something.

If she says no, you’ll have some great memories for the spank bank.

Eddie starts typing, and before he can think about it too much, he hits send.

Eddie

I’ve been thinking.

Chrissy

About what?

Eddie

I want to take you on a date.

There’s no reply for a second and Eddie is sure that his making out days are numbered, then the text bubble starts moving and his heart jumps in his throat.  It feels like it takes forever for her reply to come through.

Chrissy

Ok.

Two letters and Eddie pumps his fists in the air like a fucking idiot before he gets himself under control.  Chrissy's message bubble is moving again.

Chrissy

Where do you want to take me?

He didn’t really think that far ahead, so he goes with the old standard.

Eddie

We can go to the movies.  I’ll let you pick and I’ll buy you whatever refreshments your heart desires.

He can just imagine Chrissy giggling down at the phone as she types her reply.

Chrissy

I’d really like that.

Eddie

When are you free?

He’d love nothing more than to pick her up right now.  He doesn’t want to lose momentum or give her a chance to change her mind.

Chrissy

How about tomorrow?

Another fist pump and Eddie is typing his reply.

Eddie

That sounds great.  How about I pick you up at six and we can get something to eat at the food court?

Chrissy

Six sounds great, but I’ll meet you at the food court.  Is that okay?

For a second Eddie is disappointed.  He wants to do the whole shebang – pick her up, maybe he’ll have some flowers, buy her dinner, watch a movie, make out in the van.

Baby steps, Munson.  Baby steps.

Eddie

Sounds good.  I’ll see you there.  Six o’clock.

Chrissy

😘

Eddie throws his phone to the side and lays back on the bed to stare at the ceiling, his body humming in victory.  He has no idea what’s playing at the movies, but he doesn’t give one solitary fuck.  Chrissy Cunningham just said yes to a date with him.  A date in public.  They will be at the Starcourt, among people, where he will be her date.

He wants to call someone.  He needs someone to know about his triumph.

He grabs his phone and the first contact he pulls up is yours.  You’re the first person – the only person besides Wayne – in his favorites.  Then he sees it again at the bottom of your message thread.  You still have your Do Not Disturb on.

Not that it matters, he tells himself a bit guiltily, You can’t tell her you have a date with Chrissy when she doesn’t even know you’ve been seeing her.

He looks down at his phone again to see the little crescent moon at the bottom of the messages and he sighs.  It’s almost one o’clock in the afternoon on a Saturday and he hasn’t heard a single peep from you since last night.

Eddie starts typing.  You’ll get the message eventually.

Eddie

Can we talk?

He knows it sounds a little ominous, but that’s what needs to happen.

He sits his phone on his nightstand and gets up to rummage around for something to wear.  He has too much nervous energy to lay in bed all day, so he has to figure out something to do.

Throwing on a dubiously clean pair of jeans and a black shirt that has the fewest wrinkles, he picks up his phone to call Gareth.  He answers almost immediately.

“Yo.”

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“Playing Mario Kart with Jeff.  What’s up?”

“I’m coming over.  I have some news.”

“Good news?”

“The best,” Eddie smiles against his phone as he tucks it between his shoulder and cheek, pulling on a pair of Chucks.

“We’ll be here.”

Eddie clicks off and shoves his phone into his back pocket.  He exits his room and Wayne is gone, most likely already asleep which is what he usually does on his days off.  Because Eddie is a great nephew, he throws the dishes in the dishwasher before he grabs his keys and heads out to the van.

There’s a pep in his step as he climbs in and turns the ignition, Metallica immediately blaring from the speakers.  The only thing that is dimming his spirits is that fact he still hasn’t been able to get ahold of you.  He wants to be the one to tell you about Chrissy.  

But he can’t do that now, so he drives over to Gareth’s house, letting himself in like he always does.  Gareth and Jeff are sitting on the living room couch, elbowing one another, each with a controller in their hands.

“It’s a beautiful day, boys!” Eddie exclaims to them as he plops down on the loveseat, throwing his feet on top of the coffee table.

“Yeah, yeah,” Gareth grumbles, barely glancing at him, “Get your feet off of my mom’s table.”

“What’s this news you have for us?” Jeff asks, eyes still glued to the TV screen.

“Do you mind pausing the game?  I’m gonna need your complete attention for this.”

They both roll their eyes, but after a few more thrown elbows, they pause it, placing their controllers on the table and training their gaze to Eddie.

“Spit it out, Munson,” Jeff says, motioning his hands for Eddie to get on with it, “I was winning.”

Eddie’s smile is huge and he’s bouncing up and down in his seat.

“I’ve got a date with Chrissy tomorrow.”

For a second, neither Gareth or Jeff say anything.  The living room is cast in complete silence.  The two boys turn to each other, nothing but pure skepticism on their faces, until Jeff turns to look at Eddie.

“Yeah fucking right.  Chrissy Cunningham is going on a date with you?”

“I can show you the texts right now,” Eddie says as he pulls out his phone and goes to the couch, weasling his way between the boys so he can show them.  

He has a message from Dustin, but he ignores it.  He pulls up his message thread with Chrissy and shows them.

“How do we know it’s actually her number?” Gareth asks, eyeing him suspiciously.

Eddie scoffs as he puts his phone back in his pocket.

“You think I would stoop so low as to resort to subterfuge?”

“I know you two have been sneaking around and hooking up or whatever, but if you’re telling me that Chrissy actually agreed to go on a date with you, yes,” Gareth grabs a bag of chips off the table and starts munching on them.

Just to be an asshole, Eddie grabs the bag out of his hands and goes back to the love seat.  He shoves chips in his mouth, full of indignation that they don’t believe him.

“I guess you’ll just have to go to the Starcourt tomorrow to see for yourself.  That’s where we’ll be.  I’m taking her to the movies.”

The boys shrug their shoulders nonchalantly, like they couldn’t care less, but Eddie knows they’ll show up.  If nothing else, they want to be entertained by him falling flat on his face.

“I’m assuming since you’re taking Chrissy on a date that you’ve finally grown some balls and told Sunny?” Gareth asks.  

Neither one of them can understand why he hasn’t told you.  He can’t blame them. He doesn’t really understand it either. 

“About that…”

Eddie’s phone buzzes.  He ignores it.

“You haven’t told her yet?  You know she works at the Starcourt, right?” Jeff tells Eddie like he doesn’t already know.

“I know.  I know.  I just haven’t gotten around to it yet.  And there’s another thing.”

Gareth throws his hands up in the air, completely exasperated with him at this point, “Jesus, what else?”

Eddie clasps his hands in front of him, trying in vain to get his thoughts together.  These guys are going to think he is the biggest fucking fool in the goddamn world.  And hell, maybe he is.

“Sunny may or may not have told me that she loves me yesterday.”

Both of them give him a look that can only be interpreted as “so what?”

“Dude, she tells you she loves you every day,” is Gareth’s reply, and Jeff just nods in agreement.

“Why is that everyone’s answer today,” Eddie asks the ceiling like God himself is going to look down upon him and provide some divine intervention.  He doesn’t.  Eddie makes sure he catches their eyes before he speaks again.  “She told me she is in love with me.”

Neither one of them says anything.  They just give each other a look, some silent communication passing between them that Eddie doesn’t quite understand.

“What?”

Gareth takes a deep breath before he speaks, “You’re a fucking idiot, Eddie Munson.”

“No I’m not.”

He is, but it’s not exactly fair for Gareth to call him out like that.

“Uh, yes you are.  Sunny’s been in love with you for forever.  And before you feed me a line of bullshit and tell me the opposite, you’ve been in love with her just as long.”

“That’s not true.  I like Chrissy,” Eddie says adamantly.

“Oh, I’m sure you like making out with the most popular girl at Hawkins High.  We all would.  Doesn’t change the fact you’re in love with someone else.”

“I’m not that fucking shallow.”

“Of course you are.  You’re a teenage boy.  It’s how we’re built.”

Eddie feels personally attacked.  Yeah, Chrissy’s hot and popular, but that’s not the only reason he likes her.  She’s super sweet and nice.  She’s never treated him like he was a freak.

“Well, aren’t you a goddamn philosopher today.”

“I’m just telling you like it is,” Gareth says with a shrug of his shoulder, “I might be a teenage boy, but I can also be deep.”

“Right now I just need you to be Gareth.”

Gareth just shakes his head and looks over to Jeff like he doesn’t know what else to say.

“Okay, let’s forget about the Sunny situation for right now, because it’s obvious that you’re in denial.   You like Chrissy and Chrissy likes you,” Jeff begins, “Good for you.  Where does it go from there?  Is she going to be your girlfriend?  You’re the school freak and she’s the head cheerleader.”

“Jesus Christ, you two are harsh.  I thought I was your friend.”

“You are, that’s why I’m asking.  I think Chrissy’s a nice girl.  She’s never bullied any of us.  But she never exactly stopped anyone else from doing it.”

“I can’t blame her.  High school is brutal.” Eddie tells him, completely straight-faced.

“No shit, Sherlock.  And you’re repeating your senior year.  She’s one half of a former golden couple.  You think there’s not going to be some friction if the impossible happens and you two start dating?”

Eddie has never thought about that.  He has trouble thinking five minutes ahead.  He’s not a planner, never has been.  He’s more a fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants type of man.

He and Chrissy hang out in two very different cliques – cliques that are usually more on the edge of conflict than speaking terms.  What happens if they start dating?  Although he hates to admit it, there are politics involved in high school life.  It’s not like they’ll be able to seamlessly merge.

Eddie sits at the Freak table with his Hellfire group.  There’s not a day that goes by that some jock doesn’t try to start some shit with them.  Chrissy sits at a table that is a sea of green and orange – jocks and cheerleaders galore.  It would be a lot to ask of her to cross that divide, because only she could do it.  There’s no way that Eddie could walk over to her table and take a seat.  He’d get the shit kicked out of him on the way there.  It wouldn’t be all sweetness and light, but none of his people would give Chrissy grief for sitting with them.

“Yes, there are probably going to be some adjustments that have to be made, but we’re getting ahead of ourselves here.  She agreed to one date.  I have to see how that goes before I start worrying about the political landscape that is Hawkins High School.”

“Just keep it in mind.  And you’re really going to need to man up and tell Sunny.  You have a date tomorrow with a girl Sunny didn’t even know you’ve spoken more than a few words to, let alone shoved your tongue down her throat.  The girl told you she loves you, and now you’re gonna spring this shit on her.  It’s kinda shitty.”

Eddie hangs his head.  He feels horrible about it.  He should’ve told you in the beginning, but every time he went to do so, he could picture your face – what your reaction would be.  It was always the same, and it wasn’t happiness.

His fucking phone buzzes again and he finally pulls it out just to see if it’s finally you.  He has three messages from Dustin.

Dustin

911

Dustin

I fucked up.

Dustin

You won’t message me back, so I’ll just tell you.  Sunny knows.

Eddie’s heart drops to his feet.  Sunny knows.  Henderson’s text is pretty straightforward.  Eddie immediately hits the call button.  It rings only once before Dustin answers.

“Fucking finally!”

“What do you mean, Sunny knows?”

Gareth and Jeff give him twin looks of shock.  Eddie knows it definitely wasn’t what they were expecting him to say.  They both stand up to join him at the loveseat so they can hear what’s being said.  Eddie can’t be bothered to shoo them away. 

“I know you’re not that dense.  It means exactly that.  Sunny knows.  And I’ll admit, that it might be my fault, but only because I had no idea that you hadn’t told your best fucking friend that you like Chrissy Cunningham until fifteen minutes ago.”

Eddie presses a hand to his chest like it can stop his heart from pounding so goddamn hard.  He doesn’t like the accusation in Dustin’s voice, but he can’t blame the kid.  Dustin didn’t do anything maliciously.  Doesn’t mean Eddie doesn’t want to choke him out.

“Where are you, Henderson?”

“All of us are at the Starcourt.  We met up with Robin, Steve and Sunny.  There was conversation.  It came up.”

“How the fuck did it come up?”

He can feel his pulse thumping in his head.  This is not how it was supposed to go.

“All I did was ask where you were.  Valid question, right?  You too are basically welded together.”

He wishes the kid would just get to the point. 

“And then what happened?” Eddie yells into the phone.

“I guess Max is fucking psychic, because all of a sudden she’s talking about how Sunny likes you, and I say that of course she does, and Max says that Sunny really likes you, and then, I maybe said something about you liking Chrissy.  But how the hell am I supposed to know that you haven’t told your best friend about a girl you like?”

Gareth and Jeff don’t say anything, but their faces speak loud enough.  They are basically screaming, “I told you so!”

“And how is Sunny?”

“Pretty sure she’s been better.”

That makes Eddie feel like actual human garbage.  You hadn’t even been able to look him in the eye yesterday when you left his trailer.  Now, he’s added one more thing for you to be upset about, and it’s something that was totally avoidable.  But instead of being honest, he’d pushed it down to his stomach to deal with later, and it’s coming back up to bite him.

“Is she still there?”

“No, she left like thirty minutes ago.”

“Shit.”

“Shit is right.”

“Thanks, Henderson.”

Eddie doesn’t wait for a goodbye, he just hangs up the phone.  He looks to Gareth and Jeff like maybe they can help him, but they just shrug their shoulders.

“What the fuck do I do?”

“You need to go talk to her, asshole,” Gareth informs him like he’s the biggest idiot in the world.

“Like right now,” Jeff says in agreement.

Eddie just huffs and rolls his eyes, “Great load of help you two are!”

“Don’t put this off on us, Eddie.  You got yourself into this situation, you’re going to have to get yourself out of it,” Gareth says and gives him a pat on the back.

“I guess I’m headed out then.”

Eddie wastes no time getting into his van and heading to your house.  The whole way there he tries to give himself a pep talk.  He needs to apologize – say he’s sorry.  But he knows it’s not that simple.  This isn’t a situation where he forgot to pick up your favorite snack for movie night.

He didn’t tell you about Chrissy, then you confessed your feelings, he still didn’t tell you about Chrissy, then you got ambushed by his secret.  You might not have ever told him that you loved him if he told you about Chrissy, and as selfish as it is, he wishes that was the way it went down.  He wouldn’t have so much shit churning in his gut.  He wouldn’t feel so guilty.  He wouldn’t feel so…conflicted.

It’s a clusterfuck that he could’ve avoided by being honest.  And he still doesn’t know why he couldn’t do it.

Maybe it’s because neither one of you has ever been in a relationship, not one where there were feelings and labels involved.  He doesn’t know the extent of your experience, but he’s pretty sure he has a lot more of it than you do, which still isn’t much, and he’s told you all about it.  But he’s never been in a relationship.

Eddie lost his virginity when he was sixteen.  It was a one night stand with someone he met at Reefer Rick’s.  He was high out of his mind and the girl offered.  He was horny, so he said yes and lost it to a girl whose face he can’t remember.  And as awkward as that was, he told you. 

But a girl that you know, that you go to school with, that you’ll see every weekday.  That’s real – not some random, abstract girl you’ve never seen and never will.

Eddie’s in your driveway before he knows it – he made it there on autopilot.  He parks next to your car, hops out and bounds up the steps to your front door.  He tries the doorknob, but it’s locked, so he starts knocking.  He bangs so hard it hurts his hands.  He bangs for what feels like an hour.  He knows you’re there, so you’re not answering on purpose.

It’s an asshole move, but he’s not going to let more time pass before he talks to you, so he decides to use his key.  He’s had one since he was in single digits, so it’s not like he’s breaking in or anything.

He swings the door open and steps inside.  He pokes around, but you’re not in the living room or kitchen.  The only other place you’re going to be is your room, so he hauls ass up the stairs and stomps so loud that he knows you can hear him.  He reaches the top and looks down the hallway to your bedroom.  The door is shut.

You never shut the door when your mom isn’t home.  He knows you don’t like being alone in the house, that’s why you spend so much time at the trailer.  When you do stay home, you don’t like shutting the door because you said feel like you’re cut off from the rest of the world.  If your door is shut, it doesn’t mean anything good.

He steps slowly toward the door, taking a deep breath to settle his nerves.  He’s anxious to see your face.  He hasn’t seen it since last night, and your heartbreak was so evident.  He hated every fucking second of it.  He can’t even imagine what you’re going to look like if you even open the door for him.

Knock.  Knock.  Knock.

No answer.  He knocks a little harder.

“Go away, Eddie!”

He breathes a sigh of relief that you actually answer him.

“Come on, Sunshine.  We need to talk.”

He can hear you get out of your bed and walk to the door.

“The time to talk was long ago.  I’m assuming Dustin got a hold of you.”

Eddie grimaces and presses his forehead against the wood.

“Can you please open the door?”

You swing open your door.  He doesn’t expect it and he almost falls face first into you.  He backs up quickly, arms in the air in surrender, giving you some space.

“How long?”

He drops his arms and crosses them over his chest as if he can protect himself from the conversation. He doesn’t need you to elaborate.  You want to know how long he’s been seeing Chrissy.

“About a month.”

You lower your head and brace your hand against the doorframe like it’s the only thing supporting you.  Then you take a deep breath and finally look back up at him.  Your eyes are glassy, but there aren’t any tears, yet.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugs his shoulders, “I don’t know.  It’s a pathetic excuse, but I really don’t know.”

You shake your head, “ We always say we know everything about each other, but you’re allowed to have secrets, Eddie.  That’s not what I’m upset about.  I’m upset that Gareth, Jeff, and Dustin knew, so it wasn’t a ‘secret,’ you were just keeping it from me.”

“To be fair, I didn’t tell Henderson. He’s a nosy little fuck who likes to eavesdrop.”

“Not the point, Eddie.”

A single tear falls from one eye and you reach up to brush it away.  Eddie feels a pang in his chest.  He just keeps making you cry and it makes him feel like an asshole.

“I’m going to be honest with you,” you begin, “I never would’ve told you that I love you if you’d told me about Chrissy.”

There’s another pang in his chest, but this one’s different.  This feels like some has reached underneath his ribs to squeeze his heart.  He’s never felt anything quite like it, and never wants to feel anything like it again.

“You deserve to be happy with someone, and I’m not so selfish that I’m going to stand in your way or try to make you change your mind.  If I had known about Chrissy, I would’ve gotten over it.”

He hates the way that sounds.  Gotten over it.  Like loving him is some kind of sickness that you can be cured from.  

If he’d told you about Chrissy you would’ve never told him you love him.  You admit it — and god, he’s such a fucking hypocrite because it wasn’t even a fifteen minutes ago he was wishing the same thing.  But if that happened then he never would’ve known, and it almost makes him mad to think that you never would’ve said anything.  It also makes him so desperately sad.  

You’ve said “I love you” so many times that he can’t even begin to count them, but you’ve only ever said “I love you” in that other way one time.  And his heart is hammering, about to fly out of his throat thinking that he’s never going to hear it that way again.

“I only ever want good things for you, Eds.  You like Chrissy, I’m not going to stand in the way of that.  I’m also not going to pretend like it doesn’t hurt.”

“I’m so sorry, Sunny.”

“I know you are, but that doesn’t mean I can just get over it.”

“I’ll call Chrissy right now and tell her that I can’t take her out tomorrow.”

Your eyes widen with the news.  He forgot that he hadn’t told you that part yet.

Goddamnit.

“You’re taking her on a date?”

“Yeah, tomorrow.  We’re supposed to be going to the movies.”

“I don’t want you to call her and cancel.  You like her.  She obviously likes you or she wouldn’t have said yes.  I’m not trying to insert myself in that.  Chrissy’s a nice girl.  I’m not trying to be the big bad bitch,” you sigh softly and brush away another tear.

There’s silence.  He doesn’t know what to say, especially when you’re crying because of something he did.  He wants to grab you and press you into a hug and just hold you.  He needs to feel the weight of you against him.  He needs to breathe in your smell.  But he stays put.

“I don’t like this,” he finally says, “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

He knows he sounds like a petulant child, but he can’t help it.

“I know you didn’t mean to, but you did.  And I need you to give me a little time to be okay with that.”

“How much time?”

“I don’t know.  How long does it take to heal a broken heart?”

Eddie is gutted at the question.  It wasn’t supposed to go down like this.  Everything was supposed to be fine.  He was going to tell you about Chrissy, you were going to give him shit for it because that’s what you do, he’d go on his date, and everything was going to be fine.  

Now, he’s staring at you, the space between you is mere feet, but it feels like a great chasm that he can’t cross.

“You should go home,” you tell him.

He doesn’t want to go home, but he nods.  If you need time, then he’s going to try his best to give it to you.

“I’m sorry,” he says one more time and you reply with a small, soft smile.

“Goodbye Eds,” you tell him, and he wishes it didn’t sound so final.

“Bye Sunny.”

He turns and heads down the stairs, through the living room and out to his van, locking the door behind him.  Metallica blares from his speakers as he turns the ignition, but the last thing he wants is music blaring in his ears.  He turns it down and stares at nothing through his windshield until he can gather energy to go home.

As he pulls out onto the road, he takes a final look back at your house, up to your window.  He doesn't expect it, but he can see your face looking down at him and he gives you a small wave.  His mouth quirks with a smile just seeing you.  You wave back and turn to your room, the curtain fluttering behind you.

He swears to himself that he’s going to make everything right, even if he doesn’t know how to do that yet.  He just knows he has to, because you’re his best friend and he’s not going to lose you.

End Notes: What do we think? How do we feel so far? I go back and read this and thank whoever is out there that I never have to date again. I hope you are enjoying. Should have Chapter Four out some time today. It's on my AO3 if you're so inclined. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged!