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There was a little classroom off the 3rd grade hallway that the teacher’s called the ‘extra help’ room.
Eddie had heard the other kids call it a word that, when he repeated it to Uncle Wayne, got him sent to bed without supper and a stern lecture on unkind language. Uncle Wayne explained to him that he had to go to the extra help room because his brain was different. He had a hard time with words, and with staying still, and with paying attention. He went to the extra help room every Thursday at 2:15. The nice lady, Mrs. Cunningham, would knock on the doorpost and say “Can I borrow Edward Munson, please?” and they’d spend the afternoon playing games with colorful teddy bear tokens and trying to spell words. Mrs. Cunningham would frown when he would whistle and squeak and hit himself on the chest, so he tried to not do those things anymore. It hurt really bad when he tried. When he finally told her what he was doing, she hugged him and told him that he didn’t have to stop, that he had something called Tourette Syndrome, and that he didn’t have to keep still and quiet on her account. He really liked Mrs. Cunningham.
He guessed the extra help room didn’t give him that much help, because now he’s 20 and doing senior year for a third time. He’s pretty happy though, all things considered. He’s in a band that plays cool music, he plays D&D on Thursday nights with his friends (who only call him a spaz sometimes), and, most interestingly of all, he seems to have attracted the attention of none other than the King of Hawkins himself, Steve Harrington.
They met when Steve dropped Dustin off for D&D. Harrington would act all protective over the kids, like a mama bear trying to take care of her idiot cubs.
“Don’t freak out, Harrington,” he’d say, whistling for good measure, “The monsters are all pretend.” He winked, and yeah, it was definitely a tic, but he decided that he liked the way Steve blushed enough to pretend it was on purpose.
Steve, for all his coolness, seemed to like hanging out with the Hellfire Club on Thursdays.
“Why don’t bup you go out with your friends, Harrington? Aren’t we a little bit bup nerdy for your tastes?” Eddie teased. Steve blushed.
“When you find these supposed friends of mine, please let me know. Now come on, these idiots have a 10:30 curfew.” With that, the game began.
“Who’s going to recap? Inspiration is up for grabs, people!” began Eddie, snapping his fingers impatiently. The kids fluttered through their notes, while Steve grinned wickedly.
“Well, Dungeon Master, in the last session you fought a large beholder guarding a mysterious dungeon filled with snake paraphernalia. After tripping a booby trap, a two headed snake came out and almost killed you guys, but you guys killed it and took its fangs as a trophy back to the adventurer’s guild to prove you killed it, and then they sent you to find some other snake man because he’s like, got a corrupted sword or some shit like that?”
“Steve!!” groaned Dustin, “I needed that inspiration and you knew it!”
“Why do you think I remembered all that, dipshit? Just wanted to see the look on your face.” Eddie laughed and he and Steve locked eyes.
“Why thank you so much, my liege,” he whistled before continuing, “Alright twerps, let’s get this Yuan-ti’s sword.”
Now, social skills weren’t exactly Eddie’s forte. But he thinks, maybe, maybe Steve thinks he’s, maybe , at best , interesting. He hopes, he wishes , that maybe, on some other planet, Steve might find him attractive? Steve is a touchy feely kind of guy, so when he envelopes Eddie in lingering hugs, he figures it’s just him being sweet, and he is super kind, so Eddie assumes he must bring everyone treats for their birthday, and he is super friendly in general, so clearly this behavior is not flirting and he’s just being nice. He felt like he might have a chance, but he also felt like he was just a tiny bit delusional.
On one fateful January evening, Eddie left the school with the rest of his party and discovered that his van wasn’t starting. Unceremoniously, Steve clapped him on the shoulder and offered him shotgun, to Dustin’s chagrin.
Unbeknownst to Eddie, there was a very particular routine to this carpool. First was Lucas, who had to be up early in the morning for basketball weight training. Mike next, who had the strictest parents. Dustin was the final stop, and it appeared as though Steve was often invited in to have coffee and cake with Claudia while Dustin called Suzie on his Cerebro.
“Sorry, Claudia, I’ve got to drop off one more.”
“Oh that’s fine dear. Tell Steven you say thank you, Dustin!”
“Ugh, mom …”
“Oh but he’s so kind to you Dusty-”
“Fine!” replied Dustin, exasperated, “Thank you, Steve.”
Eddie could hardly contain his laughter at this development.
“Seems like the Hendersons really like you,
Steven
.” Steve rolled his eyes.
“Don’t get started with me, Munson, or I will kick you out of this car.” Steve was smiling as he said so, so Eddie didn’t think he meant it.
Dustin’s place and Eddie’s place are on the very opposite sides of town, so it was a good ten minutes until they reached the trailer park. Eddie’s meds were wearing off (it was after 10 after all), so he was ticcing quite a bit more than usual.
“ Woop, hup,” Eddie ticced and whistled.
“I’ve, um, been meaning to ask you something,” Steve said awkwardly.
“ Woop , shoot, pretty boy.” Steve blushed.
“Why do you make those noises?”
Eddie could hardly hold in his laughter. Steve looked away, ashamed.
“Oh shit, you’re serious.” Eddie quickly quelled his laughter. Steve nodded. “I have Tourette’s. It makes me make some weird noises and twitch a bunch. It’s really not a big deal.”
“Oh,” said Steve, sounding surprised, “I’ve never heard of it.”
“Yeah, my Uncle’s got it too, so it’s kind of been a part of my life like, forever. I’m really lucky, most people haven’t given me a hard time about it.”
“Do you do it like, all the time?” Steve asked.
“Most of the time, yeah,” Eddie replied, “I don’t think I do it like, when I’m asleep, but pretty much if I’m awake, I’m ticcing at least a little bit.” Steve nodded, conspicuously staring at Eddie’s mouth. Eddie, completely oblivious, continued. “I mean, when I’m stoned or when I’m like, kissing someone I don’t do it, but typically otherwise I’m always going.”
“I’d like to see that,” Steve said softly, almost coyly.
“Why, Momma Harrington, it is a Thursday, I didn’t think you’d condone getting high on a school night!” Eddie chuckled.
“I mean, we could try the other one.” Steve offered shyly. Eddie hadn’t realized they’d been parked for quite a while, hadn’t realized how close Steve’s face was to his own.
“I, um, bup , what?” Eddie stuttered.
“I’m going to kiss you now.” Steve said quietly and matter of factly.
Oh.
Steve’s lips met his and Eddie’s heart just about exploded in his chest. The racing thoughts in his head, the fidgets, the tics, the twitches all went silent. The kiss was sweet and chaste, but he was still overwhelmed by this thought: He was kissing Steve Harrington, and it was glorious.
They pulled apart slowly, and Eddie rested his forehead on Steve’s.
“Hi,” he whispered.
“Hi,” Steve replied.
Eddie pulled away and leaned back into the passenger’s seat. Suddenly self conscious, he began playing with his hair.
“So, um, I’m a bit confused?” he began, “Where did this come from, I, um, I didn’t think you liked boys. Or me, for that matter.” Steve blushed.
“I don’t know exactly ‘where it came from’,” he chuckled. He reached for Eddie’s hand, detangling it from his hair, “But I do know I like you. I think you’re very charming.” Now it was Eddie’s turn to blush.
“Can we talk tomorrow?” Eddie said, “After all, I need a ride to school.” he chuckled. Steve squeezed his hand and kissed his knuckles, like Eddie was some sort of fantasy princess.
“Any time,” he smiled. Eddie got out of the car, and had to keep himself from catapulting himself into the air with glee.
Eddie laid down in his bed, thinking. Mrs. Cunningham in the extra help room had taught him a lot about himself. He had something called dyslexia (which was why his letters sometimes took unplanned trips). He had something called Tourettes (which was why he twitched and whistled). He had something called ADHD (which was why he was so impulsive and emotional, and why he couldn’t focus in class). She told him he was special, that he was unique, that his brain worked in phenomenal ways, but the world sometimes wasn’t ready for it.
It seemed like Steve Harrington was ready for it though.