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Resting my head against my cold locker door, I take a couple of deep breaths. I feel dizzy, sick to my stomach, and am in pain.
My period decided on a surprise visit last night, and yes, it is actually worse when you don't expect the pain to hit you like a van and wake up pained and in a puddle of your own blood.
Rest in peace, my cute cream-colored sweats.
I just wanna crawl into bed and sleep, but like my father said: "You can stay at home once you actually have something."
He doesn't like talking or caring about "girl problems"; never has. Therefore, I'm in school, and my uterus feels like it's being punctured with needles. I could really use a hug right now, but I feel that if I'd receive one, I'd break down into tears.
Only a couple of hours. Math, Chemistry, English, History... I can do it. I feel sick to my stomach, but I can handle it.
"Hey, Sweetheart."
I quickly look to my side. Eddie stands there – no, leans there – his head resting against Robin's locker while he grins at me. I try not to look too flustered by the nickname he just doesn't stop using for me.
"Hi, Eddie," I answer, forcing myself to grin while grabbing my math books.
Eddie was in the Upside Down with us, was shortly accused of being a cult leader, and kind of became a part of our friend group since Hawkins's "earthquake".
"You okay?" he asks.
I quickly nod. I will most definitely not tell him about my cramps. That would be too much information, and like my dad says: "Men don't care for your girly pains. It's grossing them out."
I already struggle enough with my stuttering and attempts to get comfortable around Eddie. I was never good at making friends; it just takes me ages to act like a real human being, not an alien.
I don't want him to think of me as gross... I really, really like him, which isn't coming from nothing! He's so pretty, and nice, and loud... He's way more extroverted than I'll ever be.
"You sure?" he asks again, raising his brows. "Noticed Harrington didn't drive you today. He always drives you and Robin."
'Yeah, I had to take the bus because I spent too much time crying and beginning my dad to let me stay at home,' I want to say. Instead, I say, "Yeah, overslept."
Scratching the back of his head, Eddie grins, "Oh, okay. It just had me worried you wouldn't come today...."
Feeling heat rising to my face and forgetting that I'm in excruciating pain for a solid minute, I smile back at him. "Well, I'm here," I announce awkwardly, making him chuckle.
"Yeah, you are." He looks at the books in my hand, quickly grabbing them from my grasp. "Let me carry them for you," he says cooly. "You have math with Brown, right?"
I quickly close my locker and walk after him. "Yeah. Thanks," I almost whisper.
He is definitely unaware of how boyfriend-y it is to carry a girl's books. I've never seen guys do it unless it's for their girlfriends. I never had a boy carry my books, especially not one that has me falling for him every time he looks at me, so I guess I'm not complaining.
In front of my class, he hands me my books back. "Well, here we are. I'll be seeing you at lunch?"
I nod. "Yeah. Thank you, Eddie."
He winks at me. "No problem, Sweetheart."
Then he walks away, and I feel like grinning like crazy and kicking my feet – of course, I don't do it, but I definitely feel like doing it.
I quickly walk inside and sit down beside Robin.
"Wow, you're all giggly," she notes, looking at me.
"Eddie carried my books for me," I tell her, flinching as my left breast touches the desk, and it feels like my nipple is about to fall off.
Happiness over; I'm in pain again.
Ironic how god decided that bleeding out of your vagina and having that hurt like shit just isn't enough. Breakouts, nipples hurt, I feel like throwing up, my back hurts, I constantly fear bleeding through my clothes without noticing, the emotional rollercoaster I didn't ask to be on, tension headaches... and when life really hates you, you also have diarrhea and flatulence. Being a woman can suck so badly.
But as Dad says: "This isn't a real pain. You're just being a crybaby. Millions of women go through that all the time, and none of them cries around as you do."
Robin cocks her head. "Are you okay? Steve said you called him, saying you wouldn't come today."
I nod, whispering, "Period."
She lets out a small "Oh."
Before we can talk more, Mr. Brown comes in and tortures us with mathematical equations.
*****
The hours pass, the classes change, and I start to feel worse and worse.
Shortly before my History test, I finally break. The pain is too much to walk, and it's making me so sick. I rush to the girls' bathroom and throw up – or better say, dry heave since I haven't eaten all day.
I quietly ugly cry, ruining my perfect mask of make-up, and just sit there, pulling my knees to my chest. I'll just stay here until my classes are over.
After thirty minutes, there's a knock on my stall's door.
"Occupied," I whimper.
On the other side, a very familiar chuckle chimes. "No shit, Sweetheart."
"Eddie?" I ask, shocked. "W-What are you doing here? This is the girls' room. You could get in trouble."
"I was looking for you," he says, and an already broken-in box of tampons and a candy bar get shoved through the small gap between the toilette stall's door and the floor. "Robin was worried, but you know she sucks at history, so she had to go take the test. I was checking all the girls' rooms for you."
A mortified squeak escapes me. "Why- Where..." I stammer, looking at the box of tampons.
"They're super useful when a jock's punching you in the face, and your nose doesn't stop bleeding."
A small giggle escapes me at the thought of Eddie with tampons shoved up his nose.
"Is it bad?" the metalhead asks as I hear him sit down on the floor and lean against my door.
"Very," I admit, wiping away my tears.
"Why didn't you stay at home, sweet girl?" Eddie asks, cackling. "Couldn't you go even one day without seeing me?"
I chuckle weakly. "My dad doesn't let me stay at home for something so small...."
He sighs. "I mean, I know school's important and shit... but it's not like you're learning much when trying not to pass out from the pain."
"I'm okay," I assure him, but he sees right through me.
"You're not one to play hooky, especially not when you have a test."
"I- I just needed a break," I lie, biting the inside of my cheeks as I note that I actually also desperately need to pee. "I'm better now. I'll be out and back in class in a few. You don't have to stay."
"I don't mind waiting till you're better."
Okay, he's so nice, but he'll kill me here. Intricate social interactions and talking about embarrassing things just both don't work for me.
"Eddie, I- I- I-" I stammer.
He chuckles, softly mocking me, "You. You. You. What is it, Sweetheart?"
"I need to pee," I tell him quickly, glad I can't see his face.
"Well, thankfully, we're in the bathroom," he jokes.
"I- I can't go when you're in here."
"What about the whole 'Girls always go to the bathroom together'?"
"You're not a girl, though. That- That's a completely different situation."
"Yeah, this is sexist," he complains, appalled, but silly giggles come through. "I am a feminist, and I demand to be treated equally. Now pee."
"Eddie," I exclaim. "I- It's just the two of us in here, and I'll die of embarrassment if you hear me pee."
"Wait," he says, confused. "Girls actually worry about shit like that?"
"Yes, it's embarrassing," I tell him. "Now, please, Eddie. If I'm gonna pee myself, I will flunk myself off the school's roof."
I hear him get up and turn on the faucets of every sink in the bathroom.
"Here you go. Middle ground," he announces.
"Why in the world are you so stubborn about this?" I ask, getting up and opening the button of my jeans.
"If I go outside, I risk getting caught skipping biology."
"Y-You're skipping class right now?" I ask over the loud sounds of water, sitting down on the toilet.
"Yeah. I was worried after Robin ran around like a headless chicken looking for you."
I laugh quietly, feeling my face heat up. He was worried about me.
Changing my tampon and looking at my pulled-down panties, I start cursing, although I rarely have the urge to do so. "Fuck. Shit. God-fucking-dammit."
"Oh, big girl words," Eddie chuckles. "You okay in there?"
"No. No, not at all," I hiss back at him, desperately trying to soak up some of the blood that drenches my panties and has already created a stain in my jeans.
Tears are already running down my cheeks again. This is a nightmare. I can't go out like that.
"Sweetheart," Eddie says sternly, knocking against the stall's door. "Talk to me. What's up?"
"Y-You have to promise not to laugh," I sob.
"Hey, baby, why are you crying?" he quickly asks.
"I- I bled through my panties and pants."
He is quiet for a second, letting embarrassment eat me alive. Then he asks, "Okay, uhm... Just cause, like, I'm completely out of my comfort zone here: What are we gonna do about that?"
"I don't know," I cry, sobbing louder than before.
"Hey, hey, hey, hey," Eddie coos from the other side. "Please don't cry. It's not that bad. I- Uhm, do you have your PE stuff in your locker?"
I shake my head, although I know he can't see it. "No. I took it home with me after class yesterday."
I see him walking up and down the bathroom through the gap between my stall's door and the floor.
"Okay. Okay, Sweetheart? I have an idea," he says suddenly. "Just- Just stay here, kay?"
"Where the fuck am I supposed to go looking like I sat in a crime scene, Eddie?" I ask, laughing through my sobs.
He chuckles. "Yeah, right. Sorry. I'll be right back."
I hear him leave, white sneakers squeaking on the linoleum floors of our school. He returns just as loudly, the chain on his belt and his quick steps announcing him before he's even in the girls' bathroom.
"Here," he announces, shoving a black duffle bag with patches and buttons on it through the toilette stall's gap.
I open it and am met with his PE clothes: a washed-out Black Sabbath shirt and oversized, black sweatpants. Next to them, there's a plastic bag with training shoes.
"They are- I don't go to PE a lot," he tells me quickly. "Not a big fan of getting beaten up because I can't help but laugh at Jason's ridiculously small dick."
After giving them a – just in case – sniff test, I clean myself as good as humanly possible and put on his sweatpants. Taking his shoes out of the plastic bag and just putting them into the duffle bag, I put my jeans and panties into the plastic one.
I come out of the stall, Eddie sitting on the sink counters.
"Hey, sweet girl. Looking good," he tells me gently, jumping off the counter, grabbing some paper towels, and wetting them in the sink.
I am still sobbing a little. Even more, now that I see my ruined make-up. I'm not looking good. I look like a panda. Taking my cheeks into his hands, Eddie begins cleaning up the dark mascara lines running down my face.
"Want me to take you home?" he asks while throwing away the paper towel.
I shake my head. "Dad would kill me."
Eddie sighs. "That man makes it very hard for me not to hate him," he says, clenching his jaw. I sob in an agreeing manner, and he wraps his arms around me, giving me a warm, firm hug... and like I've known all day, I start crying even more.
I wrap my arms around Eddie's waist and bury my now makeup-less face in his chest. We've never hugged before. I am usually not that touchy with people I don't know for that long. But hell, I will definitely not let go of Eddie now.
He started it, and I don't think he's aware of what he just did to himself.
As he presses a kiss on top of my head, my knees buckle.
He could at least try not to be so dreamy! It's not like my introverted self will ever have the guts to make a move on him.
"I'm gonna take you home, okay? Let you take a shower and have a nap."
I look up at Eddie. "I can't go home. My dad will lose it."
He cups my face in his ringed hands, bringing it close to his. "Daddy Dearest won't find out. I'll take you home to my place. That's okay with you, yeah, Sweetheart?"
I nod, enchanted by his soft words. Nobody ever spoke to me this gently before. He smiles and presses a kiss on my forehead. Taking my hand and his duffle bag, he leads me out of the girls' bathroom and to his van.
*****
As we arrive at the Munson trailer, I feel like shit once more. Sure, I stopped crying, but now I am in excruciating pain again. I can't even decide what hurts more: Uterus, back, or nipples?
At the door, Eddie signs to me to be quiet, reminding me that his uncle sleeps in the living room. I nod, not wanting to get caught skipping school.
In his bedroom, Eddie grabs a big, soft sweatshirt and a new pair of sweats for me.
"All right, give me the bag," he tells me, and I instinctively clutch it to my chest, shaking my head.
"Sweetheart, I'm just gonna put it in the wash."
I shake my head again. "No thanks. Can't get the stains out anyway."
He shrugs. "Hey, worst case, we'll dye your little panties and jeans black."
"You know how to do that?"
"Sure. I have like seven shirts that used to be a different color. Everything that's not black is, for some reason, magically attracting stains. Some weird witchcraft shit."
I giggle and almost hand him the bag. But then logic hits me again. "They're full of blood."
Titling his head and squinting at me, Eddie says, "That's why I want to wash them?"
"It's gross," I say.
His face doesn't change. "I feel like we're talking past each other."
At this point, I can't even look at Eddie anymore. This is so humiliating. I try not to start crying again, but the embarrassment makes it very hard for me.
"Why don't you just tell me what got you all worried?"
I nod, biting the inside of my cheek. "My dad says that periods are gross and men don't like to have anything to do with them. I don't want you to think I'm gross and stop talking to me. That would suck really, really bad."
I finally dare to look at him again, watching his face slowly contort into a big, Cheshire-cat-like smile.
"Shit," Eddie chuckles. "You're so cute."
"What?"
"Listen, yes, it's gross – kinda – like, who likes blood? As metal as it is, it's gross. Right? Nosebleed? Blood on your shirt getting all cold and crusty? Fucking awful. Like, ew. But it's not like you chose to be in pain and bleeding. It's natural – Way more natural, by the way, than having a nosebleed because you laughed at Jason Carver's small dick, and he punched you in the face."
Looking at Eddie's cheeky grin, I say, "You're telling that story so often, I can't anymore tell if it's a bit or it actually happened."
"What I wanted to say is, it's gross – like most natural things. Our bodies are pretty gross when you think about it. You didn't choose to go through this, it's painful for you, and I like you, so helping you wherever I can is the least I can do. I'm also pretty tough, can handle seeing some blood. So fuck the drama and just let me wash it, kay? No need for embarrassment."
I hesitantly hand him the plastic bag, and he wraps an arm around me again. "Just so you know, I also think your dad is a fucking asshat. Who talks to their child like that? I bet he never played princess with you, either."
I shake my head. "Not even tea party."
He presses a kiss to my hairline, then removes himself, looking down at me. "It's okay when I do stuff like that, right? I- Just tell me when you don't want me to touch you. I should've asked in the first place. Sorry."
I take a step towards him again. "I'm okay with it."
"You sure?"
I nod, face so hot I feel like melting. "I like it... a lot, actually."
Eddie's cold rings burn on my warm cheek as he gently strokes over it with his knuckles. For a second, it feels like I can't breathe, but I don't fear my breathlessness.
He grins at me, this stupid, boyish grin that causes butterflies in my stomach. "Now go take a shower, and I'll see what I can do about those stains."
He brings me to the small bathroom, then goes the extra steps to the washing machine. I know he said not to be ashamed, but I still cringe as I hear him take out my clothes from the plastic bag.
A deep sigh of relief escapes me as I take off my bra. There simply is no better feeling. I take a quick shower, wash my body and face, and then dress in the clothes Eddie handed me.
I'm still in pain, but I feel pretty comfortable in these soft and baggy clothes. Forcing myself to pull myself together, wearing make-up like a false mask, dressed to impress... I hadn't realized how much it contributed to my discomfort.
I sneak back into Eddie's bedroom. Him following directly after me.
"Here," he whispers over my shoulder, handing me two pills and a glass of water. "Painkillers. Uncle Wayne swears by them when he gets his migraines."
I nod, taking them quickly, drinking half the glass. "Thank you."
He waves me off, pointing at the bed. "Get comfortable, Sweetheart. I'm gonna get you the heating pad."
I get into his bed, glad to see he seems to have recently changed his sheets. I know I am too emotional at this point, but I find myself close to tears as I cuddle myself into the bunch of eclectically mismatched pillows and cover myself with the soft blanket.
Eddie returns, smiling at me gently and sitting down beside me. As he lifts the blanket, he asks, "Back or stomach?"
"Back, please," I mumble.
He nods, placing the heating pad carefully against my body. "No more crying, please," he begs softly, brushing a hand over my head. "The pills' gonna work very soon, promise. It'll get better."
He gets up again, closing his bedroom door. I watch Eddie step out of his sneakers and take off his jacket and vest. With a black hair tie that was previously around his wrist, he makes himself a messy, low man-bun.
"That looks good," I mumble, feeling the painkillers starting to work and, combined with the warmth from the pad, lull me to sleep.
"You think?" he grins.
Nodding, I say before I can stop myself, "You always look good, though."
We look at each other, and I quickly add, "I'm sorry."
Eddie chuckles and grabs a book from one of his cluttered dressers. "You're so cute. Never thought I'd be into a quiet, shy girl... but here we are."
He lays down on the bed, back propped up against the headboard. His words sink in, and I ask, "You're into me?"
He snorts, "Oh no, you're also not good at picking up social clues."
I prop myself up on my elbow. "I- I- I just didn't think you'd-"
Eddie interrupts me laughing, "I was so obvious about my intentions."
"You weren't!" I insist.
This did not fly past my head. No, I would've noticed that Eddie likes me.
Sitting up, he starts to count down things I hadn't counted together at all. "I only call the two most precious things in my life Sweetheart, you and my guitar. Whenever we have classes together, I am so early it starts to seriously hurt my image. I hate when you're not in school because that means I don't get to see you...
"I run after you like a fucking puppy, bring you candy, gifted you that cool rock I found two weeks ago, taught you to play D&D so you have reason to spend more time with me, and I carry your books. I- I gave you a million signs."
The more he talks, the more nervous he gets. Insecure, thinking I didn't see him and his actions as somebody courting me because I didn't want to see.
"I thought I'm not enough- That I'm too... I- I'm so introverted, need a long time to get used to people... This is the first time we're completely alone together," I stammer.
"Because I wanted you to be comfortable around me. I didn't want to push too hard and risk driving you away."
I'd thought Eddie would've forced being alone with me more would he'd been interested... as he didn't, I just assumed he wasn't. And I was never going to have the guts and make a move on him.
Oh, now this makes a lot of sense.
"Oh," I breathe.
"Oh?" he echoes.
I start giggling.
"I have no idea what's going on now," Eddie admits.
"I-" I collect myself, clearing my throat. "I should've picked up on that. I- I just thought you were being nice."
He nods. "Well, yeah? If somebody wants to be your boyfriend, he'll better be fucking nice to you."
Overwhelmed, utterly flustered, I hide my stupid grin behind my hands. "I- Thank you."
"Thank you?" he asks. "For liking you?"
I nod, letting myself fall into the pillows and hiding my face some more.
Eddie follows me and pries my hands from my face, one arm above my head, the other wrapped around me. He just stared into my face, a gentle, happy expression on his face so close to mine.
"You're so perfect," he whispers. "I don't think you have any idea of how down bad I am for you."
"Ditto," I answer quickly before the bravery to do so leaves me.
"Ditto?" he laughs. "Really? That's what you give me after I laid my heart out for you?"
I nod, unable to hide my embarrassed face behind my hands because he grabs them every time I try.
"No hiding from me, Sweetheart," he tells me. "I want to see your everything. Don't care if you think it's good or bad. I'll love it anyway, promise."
I nod again. His words mean so much. I want to tell him something back that mirrors at least half of our shared feelings, but my words die on my tongue.
"Lost for words?" he teases softly.
I want to nod once more, but instead, I bite the bullet and close the distance between us, pressing my lips on his. I feel him tense up in surprise, but within the blink of an eye, he melts into the kiss.
As we pull apart, he chuckles, "Better said than I ever could."
"That was nice," I mumble.
He nods, "Uh-huh."
This time he kisses me, his hand smoothly moving under the blanket and checking if the heating pad is still warm enough.
Breaking the kiss, Eddie rests against the headboard again, pulling me closer so I can rest my head on his chest. "Now take your nap, sweet girl," he tells me, opening his book and starting to read The Hobbit to me.
It only takes moments, and I am out cold. I seem to have needed sleep badly. I only wake up twice, once when Eddie places the freshly heated-up pad against my back and the second time as he puts cozy, woolly socks onto my cold, naked feet.
I wake up when the sun is already down. The bedside table's lamp is turned on, so I won't find myself alone in the dark, and Eddie is gone.
I get out, hearing some slasher on the tv and the stove being used. Eddie's uncle seems to have already left for work. I first go to the bathroom, relieved I didn't create another crime scene between my legs, then I walk into the kitchen.
"Hi," I say to announce myself.
Eddie spins around and smiles at me. "Hey, Sweetheart. Did you sleep well?"
I nod, making him wrap an arm around my waist and pull me close. "I was about to wake you up soon. Just wanted to make dinner first."
I look at the stove with two pots on it. In one is a big portion of macaroni and cheese, on the other is a lid. Nosily, I open it, looking at a black, simmering soup with clothes in it.
Pressing a kiss to my temple, Eddie laughs. He takes the lid from my hand and puts it back onto the mysterious pot. "I told you I'd try dying your clothes first before throwing them out."
"Oh," I reply, giggling. "Was getting worried about your cooking abilities."
"Hey, hey. I may not be able to cook anything fancy, but I am a master at turning canned food into something resembling homemade meals," he tells me. Then he leans closer and whispers, "The secret is using spices and shredded cheese."
"Thank you for letting me in on this secret," I whisper back. Quickly taking the painkiller Eddie hands me with a glass of water.
He nods. "Not keeping any secrets from my girl."
"So, I'm you girl now?" I ask, putting my glass away and watching Eddie take out two bowls and fill them with cheesy noodles.
"You're okay with that, right?" he asks back.
I nod. "More than okay. Like it a lot."
"Perfect," he says, handing me my bowl. "Careful, it's hot."
We sit down on the couch, and he rewinds the movie for me.
While shoving a big spoon of food into his mouth, he asks, "Do you wanna stay the night?"
"Would that be okay?"
He nods. "More than that. Makes it easier to take care of you."
"You don't have to," I tell him, but he shrugs.
"Boyfriend-duty. But so that you know, there'll come the day when I suffer from the flu, and I then expect you to care for me as well."
"For good and for bad, huh?" I ask, realizing I don't need to be embarrassed, secretive, and careful around Eddie. It provides me with a comfort I don't think I ever knew.
"Definitely," he assures me. "Although, I'm not going to marry you just yet. Not that I'm not down for that and being spontaneous, but Uncle Wayne would kill me if I'd get married before I graduate or have a job."
"That's okay," I say, smiling at all the faces he pulls when telling things. "I think I'll like being your girlfriend a lot."
"Hope so," Eddie says. "I like it already. Did you know that you're snoring?"
I look at him with wide eyes. "I do?" I ask, shocked.
He laughs. "Only very, very quiet. But it's so cute."
"That's so embarrassing," I exclaim.
"No, don't be. You were so adorable." He begins mocking my snores, and I hit his arm. "Ouch. Seriously, none of you people can handle even the tiniest bit of teasing without becoming violent!"
I apparently didn't hit him hard enough since he starts mocking my snoring once more.
As I lift my fist to hit him again, he stops me, "Uh-uh. Don't pull a Jason Carver just because you can't handle the jokes."
I lower my arm, surprised. "So, that story is true? He punched you for laughing at his little... you know?"
"His tiny dick? Yeah. Not lying to my girl."
I take another bite from my macaroni and cheese and say, "I wanna hear that story. Like, completely, not just snippets of it."
Eddie nods, a mischievous grin on his face. "Sure, but be warned, the story's very short," he jokes, lifting his pinky.
"No way," I giggle.
He nods. "Yeah. Had the same reaction. But let me set the scene first," Eddie puts his bowl down so he can gesture with his hands. "So, there I was. For some masochistic reason, I decided to go to my PE class. It – actually – wasn't all that bad, and I found out that basketball isn't all that bad either. It's the way society elevates it and its players that is the problem.
"After participating for two hours, I was done being part of society again and really needed a shower. Normally I would just wait till I'm home because... group showers. Don't need jocks staring at my tats or dick. BUT this time, I accidentally did the staring and caught a glimpse of this teeny tiny...."