Chapter Text
new york city isn’t all that great. it’s smells like hot piss in some corners, the best coffee shops are always crowded with people in the mornings, and tourists think they’re better than everyone else. it’s baffling that people would voluntarily want to come to times square, baffling that people would put themselves into crowds of people because it’s fun.
but above all else, the worst part of new york city is the fact that eddie kaspbrak has to take the subway to school every morning.
normally, he doesn’t mind. he understands that he’s old enough, has been old enough for awhile now, to ride the subway by himself. that doesn’t mask the fact that eddie hates it. it’s filthy, swarming with germs all ready to infect his clean skin. there’s way too many people, way too many voices, way too many warm breaths against his neck. that’s really the thing about new york city, theres always way too many.
but today, everything is getting on his nerves. he wakes up late, doesn’t have time to tame his unruly curls, doesn’t have time to carefully plan what he’s going to wear. as if that even matters. his school has a population of over 3,000 people, who’s going to be paying attention to him?
but also, he’s going to be in the presence of 3,000 people. maybe they won’t all see him, but that fact alone makes him force himself to at least try every morning, to look okay.
this is his first time waking up late during his junior year.
fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck.
he scrambles around his room to find something, anything, that would make for a matching outfit. a long forgotten part of his brain whirrs into action, saying something about how past eddie would never have cared what other people think, but he ignores it. just like he’s ignoring his mother shouting from the hallway.
“edward, if you don’t get out here now, you’re going to miss the train!” she says it like eddie doesn’t already know that.
he settles for a gigantic brown hoodie, some high waisted black jeans, and some tattered old chucks. it’ll just have to do, he thinks.
he grabs his bright obnoxiously yellow walkman, preloaded with his newest playlist, and bursts out his door. his mother is gaping at him, clearly frustrated, but he keeps sprinting. straight through the door, and straight to his favorite coffee shop.
it’s the perfect place. it’s tucked away from the crowds, only a place a local would go to. there’s only a few people there at the time he’s there, as per usual. the nice barista with the freckles and dark blue hair always has his coffee ready by the time he gets there. something he takes completely for granted, because today of all days, she’s not there.
he knows it’s a lot to expect, a complete stranger having things ready for you every single morning, but it’s just in his daily routine. but he tries to stay composed.
he gets in line, fidgeting with his hoodie string, and waits for the painstakingly slow old lady to order her cappuccino.
eddie has never been the most patient of people, but he knows how too look like he’s being respectable.
after what seems like a lifetime, she finally shuffles to the side. she smiles at him, instantly making him feel bad for being so restless with her. he smiles back, dimples and freckles and starry eyes.
once he’s finally out of the shop, he’s bolting to the subway staircase. luckily, the one he goes to is only a block to the right from where he gets his coffee. that’s one good thing about new york city, he admits, everything is close together.
——
the train is just arriving as he swipes his card to pass through the turnstile. he runs with everything he has left, almost tripping over a toddler in a yankees hat. he manages to slip through the closing doors, completely out of breath at this point. this whole morning has been sprinting and running and bolting. he thinks maybe he can get extra credit in his phys ed class.
his thoughts are stopped abruptly when he feels someone’s lingering gaze on the side of his face.
he doesn’t have to take a second guess. he already knows.
sure, he doesn’t know his name. but he knows his face, his posture, his demeanor, his ugly clothes.
he’s tall. that’s the first thing he always thinks.
his long legs are covered with loose, faded jeans. they end at his lower ankle, just enough of it showing so you can see his unmatched socks peak through his shoes. he wears tattered, dark green, high topped chucks, with scribbles of writing and art all over the now browning tips. he has a black aerosmith t-shirt, which, even for how tall this boy is, is way too big for him. but the extra bits of the shirt are tucked away neatly into his jeans, all covered by a thin brown belt. he wears a bright orange short sleeved hawaiian shirt over the entire ensemble. which, looks to be about three sizes bigger than the gigantic shirt he’s wearing. eddie thinks that if the orange thing were gone, he might look better.
he looks at the mysterious person on the other side of the subway car. his face is already memorized in eddies head, but he convinces himself that he has nothing better to look at.
even from where he stands, he can see the freckles splotched all over his face. they’re light, barely there, something youd really have to look for. but eddie knows to look. even with his hysterically large glasses, he can still see them. and because of those glasses, his eyes are greatly brought out of proportion from the rest of his face. they’re huge. some of his disheveled black curls fall into his face, but he doesn’t push them away. his hair is the kind of messy that looks endearing, like you can’t tell if he spent hours on it or if he just hopped out of bed and rolled with it. it’s cool. probably the coolest thing about him.
eddie now realizes that they’re sitting there staring at each other. he doesn’t want to stop.
he’s seen this guy, every school day for three years. and they’ve never once interacted. sure, they’ve looked at each other, bumped shoulders while walking out of the tight subway doors, but other than that? nothing.
eddie so desperately wants to know more.