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June, 1985
If Eddie had to watch Brian Anderson ask for another sample, he was going to lose it.
Anderson was the last in a long line of guys who had been loitering around Scoop’s Ahoy for the past hour and Eddie swore he was the worst of the lot. Every time he licked the tiny plastic spoon it was like he tripled checked to make sure Lucy was watching.
Lucy, for her part, seemed to be coming to the end of her patience. To anyone else her expression would appear the epitome of corporate America sweetness, but he knew better. Her eyes were screaming for the guy to just finish his order.
Assholes. He swore it had been like this since she started the job. Idiot after idiot lining up like they had never seen a girl before.
He blamed Harrington. If he hadn’t taken her to prom, even if it was just as a friend, this wouldn’t be happening.
It was like a switch had been turned on in these jock’s brains. Lucy had always been cute, and sweet, and creative, and honestly too many things for him to name. If these guys had actually taken the time to get to know her, they would have realized that years ago. Instead, they waited until she had the proper social caliber to be recognized as a person instead of a blank space at a desk.
Admittedly, he was being a bit of a hypocrite. It had taken him far too long to realize Lucy was a girl worth knowing. He just didn’t like how transparently cynical this kind of attention was.
A ring pulled him out of his green tinted musings just in time to see Lucy handing Anderson his ice cream and change.
Eddie took the opportunity to step closer, finally catching a few words of their conversation.
“Seems weird we haven’t hung out,” Anderson said.
The innocent expression on his face made Eddie’s skin crawl.
Lucy shrugged. “I guess we were both just busy.”
The boy nodded along, his eyes giving her a very unsubtle once over.
“Hey, listen, me and some of the guys were going to have a get together later tonight. Nothing big, just the basketball team and a few others. I was going to tell Harrington, but you should come too. We can hang out, get to know each other better.”
Eddie scoffed. This guy was a real piece of work.
“Sorry, I can’t. I’ve got plans,” Lucy said, sounding just sorry enough as to not be disputed. “I’ll tell Steve, though. I’m sure he’d love a chance to catch up with you guys.”
The look of pure devastation on that dumb jock’s face was enough to make Eddie want to jump up at cheer. It was probably the first time a girl had said no to him.
“Yeah, thanks,” he mumbled. He then took his ice cream and shuffled away without so much as a parting wink.
With a new found spring in his step, Eddie strode up to the counter, trying desperately not to look as happy as he felt.
“What’s up, Buttercup?”
The effect was immediate. Lucy’s customer service expression slipped away. Relief flooded her features, quickly followed by the first genuine smile he’d seen all day. It was enough to boost any man’s ego.
“Hey Eddie.”
“Working hard?” he asked, leaning his elbows on the counter.
“Oh, you have no idea,” she groaned. “This is the first chance I’ve had to breathe since I clocked in.”
He nodded in sympathy. “Where’s Harrington?”
“He’ll be here soon enough,” she said, with a sigh. “I mean, it’s not that bad. I just hate opening by myself. I know it’s been hot, but who needs ice cream at eleven o’clock in the morning?”
“Well, when there’s a pretty girl serving it, any time is a good time,” he teased.
She laughed. “Well, jokes on them, Robin is out of town for the next two days.”
“Not the girl I was talking about.” He grinned.
A frown came to her lips.
“Okay, even I will admit Steve is too pretty for his own good, but there’s no need to be mean about it.”
“Oh shut up Henderson, you know who I’m talking about,” he said, waving her off.
“Yeah, sure.”
Now that made him pause. He watched her carefully as she made herself busy behind the counter. There was no winking smile. Not even a playful eye roll. She just looked…embarrassed.
“You do, don’t you?”
She didn’t look up. Her eyes remained fixed on the daily log while she fiddled with the pencil between her fingers.
“Look, I know you’re just messing around, but, a little, yeah,” she admitted. “Don’t get me wrong. I know I’m not bad to look at. I’m even cute most days, but it’s nothing to write home about. Pretty is just…a whole other ballpark.”
“What are you talking about? There’s plenty of crossover between pretty and cute,” he protested. “Heather Langenkamp.”
She laughed, but it held that self deprecating tone he had come to hate.
“Fine, Heather Langenkamp,” she allowed. “But c’mon. Like I said, I’m cute, but in the same way a tiny frog is cute. You don’t see a line of guys waiting to make out with a frog.”
“Anderson seemed eager enough.”
Her brows scrunched in what could only be genuine confusion. “What? No, he was just waiting to talk to Steve.”
“He invited you over to, and I quote, ‘get to know each other better’,” he said, adding the air quotes for emphasis.
“Only to be nice.”
Eddie stared at her, dumb founded. Suddenly her rejection didn’t feel nearly as vindicating. All she had really done was happen to be busy that night.
“Your faith in the human condition never ceases to amaze me,” he said, dryly.
She let out a sigh. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Luce, a guy like Anderson doesn’t ask a girl to a party just to be polite.”
“How do you know?” she asked. “You don’t know him.”
He rolled his eyes. “I know him well enough.”
“Well, I’m sure he’d think a guy like you wouldn’t talk to me unless you wanted… whatever it is you assume he wants.”
A little pang of guilt twisted in his stomach. She wasn’t entirely off the mark. It didn’t start out that way. He was grateful for all the friendship and kindness she so generously gave him. He just knew, deep down, it wasn’t enough. He wanted…Jesus Christ, what did he want? Too many things, if he was being honest, and he didn’t make a habit of doing that.
“It’s different,” he countered.
She held her hands up in surrender. “Whatever. I will never understand the male mind.”
“It’s not that hard, trust me.”
She huffed out a laugh, shaking her head.
He knew that was his cue to drop it, but the whole conversation had clawed its way under his skin.
She had told him bits and pieces of her time before she joined Hellfire. There were too many stories of guys acting friendly only to ask her about Wheeler or the girl who sat behind her in class. She mentioned dates that ended in hand shakes and flirtations that went nowhere. She had even confessed her rather sad attempt to ask out Jonathan Byers.
Things were changing, but that kind of conditioning didn’t just disappear with a wink and flirty smile.
He tapped his fingers, a nervous energy filling him as a dangerous thought turned into focus.
“What would it take for you to accept a guy is flirting with you?”
She blinked, tilting her head oddly to the side. “I…can’t say I know. I mean, Steve’s been trying to help me with that stuff, but I’m not sure what works.”
“Well, we already know you can’t take a compliment.”
“I can, if somebody is being serious.”
He pressed his lips together. His heart was pounding as he felt himself inching towards the edge. “Serious, huh?”
She shot him a quizzical look.
He answered by leaning forward, leaving barely a few inches between them.
Her eyes widened allowing a view of their full depth of color; hazel circled in green and gold only noticeable at so intimate a distance. It was easy to get lost, made worse by the gentle smell of apple shampoo and mint toothpaste tickling his nose.
Shit, he was really doing this.
“Lucy Henderson, you’re just about the prettiest girl I know,” he said, softly. “Best get used to hearing it.”
A bright color came to her cheeks. Her lips parted slightly as if to say something, but no sound came out. She could only stare.
He had to smile. He doubted any of those idiots got her so flustered.
“Like that?” he prompted.
Her blush deepened as she glanced down at the log sheet resting between them.
“Something like that, yeah.”
His brows furrowed slightly. There was a lingering uncertainty in her tone that was all wrong.
She still didn’t believe him.
He racked his brain for something to say to convince her it was true, but the only thing he could think of didn’t require much talking. He could just lean forward and kiss her like he’d been wanting to since seeing her in that ridiculous prom dress and a hundred times before that. Her lips were right there. Jesus Christ, it was tempting. He could almost feel how soft they were. He bet they tasted like that strawberry lip balm she liked so much. Of course, he would then be faced with that same blaring question.
If he kissed her, then what?
He could see it easily enough. Her face would turn hot. She’d fiddle with her hands and her eyes would soften as she told him she didn’t like him that way. She’d say she wanted them to still be friends and mean every word of it. It would be a gentle rejection, meant to come as a hand on a shoulder while a kind face told you it was just like falling asleep. He’d prefer to just be taken out back and shot, but Lucy didn’t have it in her.
Or worse, she wouldn’t believe him. She’d pull away with nothing but humiliation and hurt on her face. She’d ask him why he did that, wondering at what kind of joke he was playing. She’d then turn away crying and tell him to leave. The bridge between them would burn and there would be nothing he could do about it.
So he tore his eyes away, forcing them back up to safer territory. At least, that was his intention. He seemed to have caught her mid musing as her own eyes fluttered upward, her cheeks pink and breath hitched.
Did she just…
“Lucy! Sorry I’m late. Thanks for covering. What are you doing here Munson?”
He bit his tongue, wanting nothing more than to curse Harrington into another dimension; preferably one with spikes and a lot of fire.
“Nothing you can have me arrested for,” he shot back, not bothering to turn around.
“Well we do have the right to kick people out who aren’t paying.”
“I’m taking care of it Steve,” Lucy cut in. “Now can you clock in, please? I just got finished with a rush and need all the help I can get.”
Harrington’s lips pressed into a line as he looked between the two. “Fine, but if it’s been as busy as you say, I’ll need an extra hand stocking”
“Will do,” she promised.
That satisfied him enough to slip into the back, while also keeping the panel open.
“Sorry about that,” Lucy said, her expression trying to speak for both her and Harrington. “Is there something I can get you? On the house.”
Five more minutes was his first though. If Harrington had been just five more minutes late, he might have had something. Now it was only a moment, one he couldn’t even trust was real.
“Rain check,” he said, careful to keep the resentment out of his tone. “It’s too early for ice cream. Besides, I’ve got places to be.”
She nodded in understanding. “What are you doing tonight?”
“No much, why?”
“Well…” She shifted awkwardly. “I know we haven’t had a chance to hang out the way we should have, which is probably my fault. I just thought we could catch a movie. Day of the Dead is still playing, if you haven’t seen it. I’ll bring ice cream.”
Something dangerously resembling hope flickered in his chest. “I thought you already had plans.”
“Kind of,” she confessed. “I saw you pass by a few times and thought it’d be best to keep my schedule open until I could ask you.”
A wide smile spread across his face. Brian Anderson could suck it! Lucy hadn’t even given that sorry ass a second thought. She deliberately lied just to hang out with him. Shit, he could ride this high for the rest of the day.
“I’m sure I can convince the guys to cut practice short,” he said.
Her whole face lit up, shooting another dizzying rush straight into his bloodstream.
“Cool! I get off at about six. So, in front of the theater, six thirty?”
“Sounds perfect.”
“Lucy?!”
Eddie looked up, just in time to see Harrington trying, and failing, to balance an armful of boxes on the other side. Good. He hoped he dropped them.
“Oh jeez– Hold on!” Lucy said before turning back around and shooting him an apologetic smile. “I should probably help with that. I’ll see you tonight?”
“I’ll be there,” he promised.
She nodded, walking backwards as she spoke. “Six thirty. Don’t forget.”
“Never, pretty girl.”
He just got the chance to see her cheek turn that addicting shade of red before she raised two fingers in a half salute and dipped behind the door.
It wasn’t a date. He had to remind himself of that even as he felt himself floating out of Scoop’s Ahoy and into the rest of the crowd. Lucy would have said point blank if it was a date. She wasn’t one to play that “let’s hang out” game. This was just a meeting between friends.
Of course, friends didn’t blush like that when another friend complimented them. Friends didn’t let other friends get that close and friends definitely did not stare at each other’s lips.
He could feel himself grasping at straws, but it couldn’t have been his imagination.
Before he knew it, he was halfway across the mall parking lot and in sight of his van. He took the moment to finally breath, clearing his head of the euphoric haze.
Whatever hope he felt was based solely on glances and guesses. They were friends. He had gotten too close to the edge. If he had any sense, he would slowly back away and never look back.
Of course, it was easier said than done. That stupid, confusing want kept him right where he was. He thought accepting his feelings would somehow make them more manageable, but all it did was make him even more desperate to prove he wasn’t alone.
He couldn’t just jump. This wasn’t some random girl at the Hideout he’d likely never see again. All he’d get from a fall like that was a bruised ego. With Lucy…shit it might just kill him.
He ran a hand over his face. She’d just rather spend more time with him than Brian Anderson. It wasn’t rocket science. The guy was a dick anyway.
Still, she’d rather spend more time with him, the soon to be third year senior freak than Brian Anderson, rich jock on his way to a full ride athletic scholarship.
The self imposed pressure on his chest lightened as he finally slipped into the driver’s seat.
He’d be back at six thirty. Lucy would be waiting for him just outside the theater with a smile, two spoons and a pint of ice cream. Date or no date, how lucky could a guy get? And if he could get her to blush again, well, what’s life without a little danger.