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“I’m sorry. You asked who where?” Jeff asks him, pausing his attempts at tuning his guitar. There’s no way he heard what he just heard.
“You heard me,” Eddie groans, covering his face. He’s bright red and clearly embarrassed. “I don’t like your tone.”
“I don’t have a tone!” Jeff says, but he did have a tone. Tone of disbelief, tone of shock, tone of what the fuck is happening.
“Why the fuck did you ask Steve Harrington to that show?” Frankie asks.
“I don’t know!” Eddie exclaims. He’s sitting on the floor of Gareth’s garage, looking more and more like he’s going to curl into a ball and die. “He was there! And he was smiling at me! What else was I gonna do?”
“Smile back? Leave? Growl at him? I dunno!” Jeff laughs. “What did he even say?”
Eddie lays back on the ground, throws his hands up in the air, and puts his thumbs up.
No one says anything for a full minute. Gareth sets his sticks on his snare. Frankie looks between Eddie and Jeff and Gareth, never one to be the first to say something.
“He said yes?” Jeff asks.
Eddie throws up his thumbs again.
“Does he know what he said yes to?” Gareth asks.
“Does he know you’re a fuckin’ weirdo?” Frankie asks.
Eddie’s thumbs change to his middle fingers. “Obviously he knows that. He watched me drop a piece of bread on the ground and yell that I needed to find ducks so it wouldn’t go to waste.”
“Dude.”
“Don’t act like you don’t know how weird I am!” Eddie sits up. “And he said yes because he’s trying new things. His best friend told him he should take more chances.”
“So he agreed to go to a metal show with you. To try new things.”
Jeff cannot actually believe this.
“He did. And I’m gonna show him a good time. And maybe we can even be friends. Or more. I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Gareth asks. “I don’t think Harrington’s into dudes.”
“I think you don’t have a clue, man. It’s rude to make assumptions about people,” Eddie says as he sits up. There’s no bite to his words because he knows none of them would actually intentionally be rude about someone’s sexuality, no matter who they are. “And even if he isn’t, he has to know I am, and he seemed pretty chill about it.”
“Can we practice now?” Frankie asks.
Eddie stands up and slings his guitar over his chest. “Yep. I’m normal.”
“Far from it, but okay,” Gareth says before counting them off.
****
“You know, I didn’t think I’d have this much fun,” Steve says as Eddie leads him back to his van. Taking Steve’s car would’ve been more economical, but Eddie kinda wanted to wine and dine him. As much as a broke freshman in college can wine and dine a probably straight guy, at least. “The music was actually okay.”
“I’ll take okay,” Eddie smiles at the ground. Steve’s hand brushes against his as they walk. “There’s some softer bands if you like their style, but not how loud they are.”
“Yeah? Can you show me?” Steve’s fingers brush against his again. It can’t be accidental now.
Eddie should just do it, just grab his hand and twine their fingers together. Maybe Steve will pull away and things will get awkward. Maybe they won’t.
He takes a breath and does it, laces their fingers together as they walk. There’s only a few people ahead of them. He had to park a few blocks away from the venue and most people sprung for the main parking lot.
Steve doesn’t pull away.
He squeezes his hand.
“So?” He asks.
“Sorry, what?” Eddie knows his palm is sweaty, but Steve doesn’t seem to mind. His brain is empty of all thoughts.
“Will you show me more music?” Steve laughs.
“Oh! Yeah, of course. Anything you want.”
Steve smirks down at the ground. “Anything?”
“You know I’m, like, super gay.”
“I wouldn’t be holding your hand if you weren’t.”
“Okay. So like…you’re?”
Steve laughs. It echoes in the night.
“I’m into you. Is that good enough?”
Eddie feels breathless. “Yeah, that’s great.”