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“Family Videos, this is Robin speaking, how may I help you?”
Instead of a response, all she heard was coughing. “Steve?” Steve had been sick the last few days, with an increasingly worrisome cough.
“Yeah, sorry,” came Steve’s hoarse voice.
“Let me guess,” Robin said, “you’re calling out sick?”
“Yeah.”
She wasn’t surprised at all. She’d seen this coming yesterday when he’d spent half their shift locked away in the break room, hacking up a lung and hoping the customers didn’t hear. They did. Not to mention, he was already twenty minutes late for his shift. “Alright, no problem,” she said. “Hope you feel better tomorrow.”
“God, me too. Bye, Robin.”
“Adios, doofus.” She hung up the phone and immediately started dialing another number. She knew Steve was home alone, his parents once again away on business, and she wasn’t sure he should be. And, even if he was okay, she did enjoy meddling for the pure sake that it annoyed him and annoying Steve could be fun. She heard the dialing tone and then the phone being picked up.
“Who’s this?”
“Hey, Eddie, it’s Robin. Your boy’s out sick.”
“Ah, he left you high and dry?”
“Yeah. He sounded really bad, I think you should go over there. I would, but I’m at work.”
“Alright, will do. Thanks for the tip, Robin.”
“You’re very welcome.” She hung up and returned to work.
Meanwhile, Eddie made his way over to Steve’s house. He rang the doorbell and waited, but there was no answer. Maybe Steve was asleep? It would do him some good if he was. After waiting for a long while, he rang the doorbell again. This time, he got a response. Steve opened the door, wearing pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt bearing the name and logo of the Hawkins basketball team. “Eddie?”
“Surprised to see me?”
“Yeah, uh, you didn’t call.” Steve shifted in the doorway. “Unless I was asleep. Did you—”
“Nah, your gal Friday called me.”
“Oh. How come?” He coughed thickly, bending over with exertion.
“Because of that. Let’s get you inside, big boy.” He waited for Steve’s coughing fit to stop then followed him into the living room. There were tissues littered all over the place. Eddie said, “Man, and I thought my trailer was a mess.”
“Sorry.” Steve made a lame attempt to brush the tissues off the sofa, content to leave them on the floor. He sat down, and gestured for Eddie to join him, which he did. He coughed again, leaning forward.
“You really sound like shit,” Eddie said, putting a hand on Steve’s forehead. It was hot, unsurprisingly. “Is this why you’ve been dodging my calls this week?”
“Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t want you to…” Steve couldn’t bring himself to say see me like this.
“Oh, come on, Steve, I’ve seen you after bat monsters had you for lunch, you think this is bad?”
“Guess not. That was badass, though, you said it yourself. Or, what did you say? Metal?”
“It was very metal of you.”
“A cold is not very metal.”
Eddie nodded. “You have a point. I think you’re beyond a cold, though.”
Steve sighed, which triggered another coughing fit. He grabbed one of the stray tissues, and coughed up some phlegm into it.
“Gnarly,” Eddie said.
“Gross,” Steve agreed. He put the tissue on the table.
“Is that the first time that’s happened?”
“Hell no, do you see all these tissues?”
“Yeah, man, you’re way beyond a cold.”
Steve grumbled, “I feel like shit.”
“No doubt. You look like shit.” Eddie had never seen Steve without his hair done before, but more than that, he had dark circles under his eyes and he was pale. There were also sweat stains all down his sweatshirt. Anyone with eyes could peg him for being sick.
Steve flopped over, lying down on the couch. “I was in the middle of watching this movie.”
Eddie looked at the screen. “Grease? Really, Harrington?”
“What? It's a good one.”
“Oh, yeah, and how many times have you watched it? A hundred?”
“No, I’ve never seen it before.”
“I bet you watch it all the time. Grease, Footloose, Sixteen Candles…”
“Sixteen Candles is a classic,” Steve said. He’d watched it with Nancy back when they were dating and had come to truly appreciate it.
Eddie threw a blanket over him. “Fine, I’ll watch Grease. Only for you, Harrington.”
Steve smiled.
Partway through the movie, Steve fell asleep, and although Eddie would never, ever admit it, he kind of liked the film. Luckily, Steve wasn’t conscious to see him enjoy it so much, so Eddie could pretend it had been a real pain in the ass to get through it. When Steve woke up, his eyes were red and glassy, and he somehow looked even paler.
“Hey, sleeping beauty.”
“How long was I out?”
“From Beauty School Drop Out to Freddie, My Love .”
“More like Eddie, My Love,” Steve said, with a dopey smile.
Eddie ruffled Steve’s hair. “You’re hopelessly cheesy, you know that?”
“Mmhmm.” Steve yawned, and sat up. He was shivering, Eddie noticed.
“Here, take my jacket.” Eddie took off his jacket, vest and all, and handed it to Steve, who put it on over his sweatshirt.
“Now I’m you,” he said.
“Sure, you are.” Eddie put his hand to Steve’s forehead once more. “You’re burning up, pretty boy.”
Steve coughed harshly. “Thermometer’s in the bathroom.” He pointed to a door down the hall.
Eddie followed his directions and returned a moment later with a thermometer, which he handed to Steve, who dutifully put it in his mouth. Steve watched the finale of Grease while the mercury line ticked upwards. When the song was over, Eddie took it from him. “Damn, you’re really sick, aren’t you?”
He showed the thermometer to Steve, which read 102.
“It’s just a cold.”
“Yeah, right. Up to bed with you.”
Steve flopped over so that his head was on Eddie’s lap. “Good night!”
“I am not your pillow, Harrington.”
“Mm, can’t hear you, I’m asleep.”
Eddie smiled, but he said, “I’m serious. Go up to bed. I’ll stay here with you tonight. Maybe take a shower first, though. You reek.”
Steve sighed and hauled himself upright. He marched up the stairs, bypassing the shower and going straight to bed.
Eddie channel surfed, landing on MTV.
Upstairs, Steve buried himself under multiple blankets and slowly fell back asleep. Ever since his first monster encounter with Nancy and Jonathan, he was prone to nightmares, but he’d recently added a new addition to his nightmare repertoire. With his fever, it was especially vivid and frightening during this nap.
Eddie.
Demo-bats.
In his dream, there was nothing he could do. Night after night, he watched Eddie die.
He tossed and turned in his bed, hearing the screams in his dreams. A firm hand shook him awake, and he awoke with a real scream, jolting upright.
“Harrington, Jesus, it’s just me.”
Eddie didn’t know why Steve looked so terrified to see him.
“Steve?” He snapped his fingers in front of Steve’s face. “You with me?”
“Eddie?” Steve panted, as if just realizing who he was.
“Yeah, who else?”
“You’re not—” Steve reached out and patted down Eddie’s shoulders and arms. “You’re okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, are you?”
Steve leaned back against his pillows and caught his breath. “Jesus. You scared me.” He coughed into the crook of his elbow.
Eddie put a hand to his forehead. “I think your fever is worse.”
“Well, we already knew I was hot,” Steve said with a smirk, before breaking into another coughing fit.
Eddie laughed. “Let me get you an ice pack or something.” He started to leave, but Steve grabbed his hand.
“Forget the ice. Just stay here?” The two looked into each other’s eyes for a moment. “Don’t make me say please.”
Eddie sat on the foot of Steve’s bed. “Well, when you ask so nicely. Anything for you.”