Archive of Our Own

They say that the years spent in high school should be a teenager's best years in life.

Key words: Should be.

Whoever coined that phrase surely wasn't thinking about the social hierarchy that existed within high school. Those years were only the best if they were rich popular white kids with little to no worries in the world. It wasn't an opinion, it was a fact.

If you were even a little bit nerdy, or a little too into Sci-Fi, or maybe you liked darker music than most — you were shunned by the popular kids and by extension, shunned by most of the entire student body, as if you carried a disease or something. Living in Hawkins was never easy, not for someone like you. The students at Hawkins High only made that reality ten times worse; It made you want to fast-forward time and get to the good part: graduation.

Because despite how much torment you experienced for simply being yourself, you'd never change for the opinions of a cheerleader — or anyone else for that matter — who didn't even know a fragment of your suffering. Even if no one accepted you for who you were, it didn't matter. At least you were being honest to yourself, unlike the majority of the people here who were lying to themselves thinking they wanted popularity when what they were really looking for was the validation to exist like they didn't already have it.

You took a bite out of your apple and set it down on your lunch tray. It was lunch period so you were in one of the vacant halls where no one would bother you. Usually, the popular girls flocked to each other in the cafeteria which meant that you'd finally have some peace and quiet. You dragged the lead across the paper in your sketchbook in calculated, pressured strokes. Here, in the hall, with nothing but your sketchbook and your music, you felt the most at peace.

It made you happy to see that Siouxsie's likeness was being replicated onto your page, you'd come a long way since elementary school drawing-wise. Shading was the easy part, it was cleaning up the sketch that was the hardest thing to do since you wanted to get the proportions right. You hummed along to 'Into The Light' absentmindedly while you continued finishing your drawing, you'd been working on it all morning and you were excited to see it finished. When the bell rang to signal the end of the lunch period, you gathered your things to leave the hall and picked up your tray to throw it away.

You should've known that your happiness couldn't last more than a morning in Hawkins High.

As you walked over to the garbage disposal, one of the cheer girls forcefully bumped into you, knocking your sketchbook and your tray into the garbage can. The girls laughed as they glanced back at you, whispering about you looking like 'a walking funeral' all the time. Time itself seemed to stand still, but all you could think about was getting your sketchbook out of the trash. After a moment, you swallowed any pride you had left and dug into the trashcan to fish it out.

Thankfully you were quick so your sketchbook didn't get anything spilled on it, but still. Their eyes burned holes into your back. "You know what? All of you always talk about how miserable I look, but it's you guys who actually live miserably enough to do shit like this." Your words were stern and would probably only anger them more, but you couldn't care less.

You held your sketchbook close to your chest and bumped shoulders with the same blonde girl who'd bumped into you earlier as you left the lunch room. There was no way Janie Jones would let it slide, you knew that much, but at least you'd bought yourself some time before she could do anything to retaliate.

The next class you had was English with Mrs.. O'Donnell which you were looking forward to since the class was reading The Awakening. Yeah, it bored almost the entire class because the book was in Old English, but feminist-slash-gothic literature was interesting and tragic — two of your favorite things. Plus, you'd already read the book before so when Mrs. O'Donnell would read it during class, it'd just give you more time to continue your drawing. She never really said anything anyway since you always did well on tests and assignments.

You took your usual seat next to the window and took out your (slightly damaged) sketchbook. You frowned seeing the new stains on the outer covers but it wasn't too bad. It fell inside while it was still closed so none of your drawings inside were damaged. The bell rang and a few minutes later, Eddie arrived to the class, taking the seat beside yours. The metalhead with the long, brunet hair was an acquaintance of yours. Not quite friends but not quite strangers either.

It wasn't that the two of you didn't get along, the distance between you two was largely be attributed to the fact that you were an absolute idiot when it came to social interactions. You ended conversations too early and stayed quiet when there was a lot more you wanted to say. Regardless of this, Eddie continued conversing with you, trying to get you to join Hellfire.

"Hey," he greeted quietly as he took out his library-issued book, "What page are we on?"

"You're late, as per usual." The both of you smile at your comment, "We're on page 45."

Eddie flips to the page and tries to find which sentence Mrs. O'Donnell was on. "Who's that?"

"Siouxsie Sioux, I bought her album last week and I've been listening to it non-stop," you're whispering of course, but the smile stays on your face. You liked being asked about you art and your favorite bands, Eddie figured that out very quickly.

"From Siouxsie and The Banshees?"

"Nooo, from The Cramps," you deadpan, nudging his arm. "Of course it's Siouxsie from Siouxsie and The Banshees."

He laughs quietly so that Mrs. O'Donnell won't hear it, though you're sure she definitely hears everything. "Sioxsie to you is like what Ozzy is to me."

"I'll say, Though-"

Mrs. O'Donnell cuts you off, "If what the two of you are talking about is so important, why don't you two share it with the rest of the class, hm?" Both Eddie and yourself stay silent and look at each other, trying not to laugh. "Since you're so talkative today, Mr. Munson, why don't you read the next paragraph for us?"

The metalhead nods and clears his throat, "Um.. Where are we?"

"Ms.. ________, can you tell him where we are? Or are you lost too?" She says it so condescendingly but either way, you lean in next to him and point to the paragraph he should be reading.

He smiles, trying not to laugh at the entire situation and begins to read the next paragraph. It's dialogue between Edna Pontellier and her forbidden lover, Robert Lebrun; Eddie reads it in the most dramatic tone that he can, eager to make Mrs. O'Donnell regret making Eddie read the paragraph. You were biting back a laugh while he did so and continued your drawing in silence while he read the paragraph, occasionally shooting bright smiles your way.

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The rest of your classes went without a hitch.

As you walked out of your physiology class, you held up your sketchbook a bit away from you so you could see it in its entirety, trying to see any imperfections that needed to be rectified. As soon as you smiled, satisfied with your progress throughout the day, The entire sketchbook was taken straight out of your hands.

The neatly manicured hands that snagged your sketchbook from you belonged to none other than Janie Jones — How could you have forgotten that little incident at lunch?

"Give it back Janie, I'm serious." Your words came from a place of worry but were spoken without fear.

Janie only laughs and glances at her two friends at her side. "Oh? You want me to give it back? Fine." She gestures as if she's about to give it back but as soon as you reach out for it, she takes it back as if you're a dog eager for a treat their owner wouldn't give them. "But first, apologize for that little stunt you pulled back at lunch."

"The hell are you talking about Janie?"

"What, did you think I was going to forget how rude you were?"

Your brows furrowed, "Rude? You're the one who started it! You always are, so don't try to pin it on me."

"Hah." She scoffs, "Y'know, it'd do you some good to learn humility. After all, we can't have outsiders like you making everyone think it's okay to be rude and disrespectful."

You cross your arms, "And what exactly do you mean by that, Janie? What's an outsider to you?"

"Did you think everyone would forget you're a wetback underneath all those grandma-clothes? You know exactly what I mean. "

You scoff and look up towards the sky and then back into her hazel eyes. "I don't actually, because last time I checked, it was your people that invaded the land you stand on. If anything, you're the outsider." Her glare hardened but you couldn't care less as you quickly reached for the sketchbook, successfully taking it back. "Maybe you ought'a brush up on your history before hurling thoughtless insults at me like an idiot, Janie."

Before you can walk away, one of her friends grabs your walkman, holding it hostage from you before you can swipe it back. "I'm not doing this shit-"

"Apologize to Janie before I break it."

"You break it and you won't be leaving here without a scratch."

"You wanna bet?"

"Go ahead." You spit, "See what happens."

She drops it onto the ground but it doesn't break. As soon as you're about to reach for it to take it back, Janie's friend stomps on it, effectively breaking your cassette player with the cassette still inside. It was the new Siouxsie and The Banshees album you'd just bought last week.

And she broke it in a second.

Your composure went out the window upon seeing the broken cassette tape and you reached out to slap her; Your hand landed on her cheek, giving it a nice, red hand print for decoration before Janie and her other friend who was just standing until now, held you back from the girl that broke your cassette player. At this point, you were trying to fight off the three of them, kicking and punching anywhere if it'd get them to let you go. By now, there was a crowd forming outside in the parking lot since class had just ended. All they did was watch.

Somehow, Janie ended up grabbing your sketchbook and flipping it open. "Such unsettling drawings, do you ever draw anything normal?" She flipped to the last page you'd drawn on; The page that contained your drawing of Siouxsie.

"Who's this? Another sick-in-the-head witch?" She laughs, "Who even wears makeup like this.. it's fucking ugly if you ask me."

"I wouldn't expect your prissy ass to understand it..!" Your words carried anger as you watched her smile.

"There's nothing to understand. Satanic things like this shouldn't exist.. in fact, I'll be doing the world a favor by erasing its existence."

"You wouldn't." There was a glint of worry in your eyes and tone.

"Oh.. but I would." Janie smiles, "Give me the lighter, Haylie." The brunet on your left gives her a lighter and holds you back as you continue to struggle to break free. But there's two girls holding you by the arms — one of which being the one who'd broken your walkman so mercilessly — so there was no way you were getting out of it.

"This," Jane flicks the lighter on, "Is what happens when you're a rude bitch."

"Don't you fucking-!"

"-And what are you going to do about it?" Janie presses the flame against the paper and within seconds, your drawings — all of them — go up in flames. Janie's cronies let you go afterwards, watching and laughing as you scrambled to the floor, watching a whole semester of artwork amount to nothing but ashes. The crowd dispersed afterwards, leaving you on your own to deal with the remains of your sketchbook.

The walk home was a miserable one.

Quiet hums of a familiar song flowed from your lips as you absentmindedly doodled on the worksheet Mrs. O'Donnell handed to you about twenty minutes ago. The class was supposed to be analyzing a passage from the book; something about identifying literary devices and defining vocabulary words within the passage.

Of course, you had finished before most of your classmates so you were off in your own world. It would take some more tutoring shifts before you could have enough money to buy yourself a new walkman and replace the sketchbook Janie incinerated two days prior. Nonetheless, you remained hopeful. You had to or else you'd lose your shit.

"How did your drawing turn out?" Eddie whispered to you.

You bit the inside of your cheek and lied, "I didn't like it so I just restarted the whole thing.. I'm taking a break from art."

"Why?" He sounded slightly concerned.

"No reason, just not feeling motivated." Your words were curt and short, very unlike the usual you. It'd be foolish to think a guy like Eddie wouldn't notice. He didn't say much afterwards, deciding to leave you alone. He wasn't the type to prod, especially not when you were so closed off and clearly irritated.

The rest of the class passed by like a blur. You were gathering your stuff when Eddie spoke to you again. "Hey uh.. You do tutoring right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I was thinking maybe you could help me out with the homework assignment for this week?"

"Which one? The literary analysis one?"

"Yeahh… I'm not exactly the best at it." Eddie rubs the back of his neck, wearing an apologetic smile. "That, and I seriously have to get my grade up for this class."

You crack a small smile and nod, "What time works for you?"

"Can you do tomorrow after school?"

You put on your messenger bag and nod, "Yeah. It's not free though, unfortunately."

He nods in acknowledgment, seeming a little more nervous or was it excitement? Either way, he seemed happy about your agreement. "Yeah, no, totally. I wasn't expecting it to be free. It's hard work. And you deserve to be paid for it. It'd actually be more questionable.. if it was- I'm sorry, I'm rambling aren't I? Sorry about that, I just-"

You giggle, "It's fine, You're good. I'll see you tomorrow, Eddie."

"Yeah. Okay. Sounds good- Great actually." He gives you two thumbs up as you leave.

You're still smiling when you walk out of Mrs. O'Donnell's classroom. 'Cute.' you thought to yourself. He reminded you of a puppy, kind of. Usually when you saw Eddie speak to his friends, he was more calculated and calm with it. You never really spoke to him outside of Mrs. O'Donnell's but you had an inkling that this 'rambling Eddie' you witnessed wasn't the usual Eddie.

He was good at getting you to forget what you'd been so broken up about without even knowing it, you had to give him that.

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"The names of these two cells often get mixed up by students, so just remember: osteoblasts are responsible for building new bone around fractures while osteoclasts break down and absorb old bone tissue. It'll be on your exam in two weeks, so make sure to study that. " Ms. Hutchinson went on to answer questions about the exam that would take place soon. Usually, you were excited about physiology because it was interesting to you to learn about human anatomy. Right now though, you were distracted because you were about to see a certain someone.

Eddie and you weren't that close, but you figured that this new excitement surrounding him was just you being happy about making a new friend.

That's all it had to be.

Because the other thing was just bogus.

The bell rang and after gathering your things, you headed to the table behind the football field where Eddie had suggested the two of you meet. You didn't mind either way because it meant being away from the judgmental student body. You'd walked quickly so it was no surprise that you arrived there first. While you waited for him, you decided to set everything up and pass the time by doodling on your English notebook.

"That doesn't look like a break to me." Eddie said half-jokingly once he arrived. He was so quiet that he managed to make you jolt and close your notebook upon hearing the sound of his voice as if you were being caught in the middle of committing a crime.

"Dammit Eddie, you scared the hell out of me!" You nudged his shoulder before he took a seat in front of you.

"Sorry," He laughs, "Still though, it seems like your art 'break' didn't last long."

"Right.. " You open your English notebook up to the page where you wrote your notes for the assignment. "Anyway, what did you need help on? I finished the assignment already so, just let me know what you need help on."

Noticing that you still weren't wanting to talk about whatever caused the disappearance of your sketchbook (and walkman), he resigned to actually doing his English work. "It's question five, the one about-"

"-the authors choices."

"Yep, that'd be the one."

You leaned forward, taking his unfinished worksheet in your hands to help him highlight the important parts. "Okay, so, do you remember when Mrs. O'Donnell went over diction and syntax?"

"Yes.." he started slowly, avoiding eye contact with you and bringing his ringed fingers to his pursed lips in a pensive gesture. "But can you explain it just so we're both sure that we know what we know?"

A small smile breaks through your lips, "Diction is an author's choice of words, as in, how they chose to use certain words, syntax is the order of those words within a sentence. Get it?"

"I get the first one, It's syntax that I don't get. Like, why does that even matter?"

"Well.. let's put it this way. You play Dungeons and Dragons right?"

Eddie looks up at you as if he's won the lottery and you're a statue of gold. "Yeah? But what does that have to do with any-"

"Who's the villain in the story, or campaign- or, whatever it's called?"

".. Vecna, currently. Why?"

"You write these campaigns right?"

"Yeah…" He looks at you confusedly, but it's evident that you've got his attention.

You begin to write on an empty space of your notebook. "Okay, so then you probably can tell that these two sentences-" You flip it and show the sentences you wrote to Eddie, "-Feel different, right?"

He reads the two lines: 'Vecna only kills humans.' and 'Only Vecna kills humans.' "Kind of? I mean, the only thing that's different is 'only' isn't it?"

"Yes… but," you point to this first one. "'Vecna only kills humans.' tells us the type of beings he kills, meanwhile 'Only Vecna kills humans' flips the meaning entirely and implies that Vecna is the sole being that kills humans. They sound similar, but the meaning is different. Do you get it now?"

Eddie nods, his expression is full of subtle wonder, like you just opened the door to an unknown world for him. "I mean, when you explain it like that, how could I not?"

"It looks a bit more complicated when you apply it to the passage, but I'm helping you out so it won't be too hard."

"Confident much?" Eddie smirks, sitting up straight with his arms crossed.

You roll your eyes but smile nonetheless, "It's the result of being a part-time bookworm, you should try it out sometime." You walk him through the first question which is asking him to analyze what's happening in the passage and after a bit of help from you, he's able to formulate his own answer for it.

You started tutoring because you needed the money, but you also liked helping if you could. Ironically, English was one of your best subjects, so you didn't mind tutoring for it.

"Alright, now try doing the second one on your own." You flip the paper back over to him and lay your chin on your palm, observing him as he answered the question. He seemed immersed in it, which frankly brought you a sense of warmth. Deep down, underneath the indestructible walls of your heart, you genuinely enjoyed seeing the way he bit his bottom lip while deep in concentration; That is, you enjoyed spending time with someone who didn't look at you like you were a lost cause. Someone who was interested in what you had to say.

Only fifteen minutes had passed since the both of you started, if you were lucky, you'd have at least an hour before you had to say goodbye to him. There were moments of silence in which the two of you worked separately — moments in which you wished your walkman wasn't broken so you could at least have something to listen to, to fill the silence — but still, you enjoyed sitting with him like it was a natural thing to do.

"Alright, I finished all of them." He handed you his worksheet, "Check them for me?"

You dropped your pencil and took the paper in your hands. He had neat-ish writing for a boy, it surprised you, considering that when you revised work for other students, the majority of papers that were written by male students also had absolute chicken-scratch for penmanship. "All of your answers seem pretty solid.. I'd say it's just number two that's .. iffy. Why do you think Edna's mad at her husband?" You handed him back the paper so he could look over the passage again.

"Well.. she's pretty distant in the scene, and she's not really speaking to him like she does with their mutual friends..? I dunno, she's kind of hard to understand." He admits to you, laying his chin on his palm with his elbow propped up on the table, mirroring you.

You nod slowly, "Well.. she's not exactly mad at her husband, she more so.. pissed off that she's his 'property'. So it's misdirected anger towards Léonce."

"Oh shit, really?" He perks up, "Wait, why though?"

"Well, if you look at her dialogue, she's kinda passive, so I see why you think she's mad at him" You point towards Edna's responses within the passage of his book. "But, Léonce is the one taking it to heart because he thinks he's entitled to her affection and respect. The book was written in the eighteen-hundreds, so the book is focused on gender-roles and how Edna hates them."

"She's kind of a punk, huh?"

This makes you laugh, an alien warmth settling in your belly. "Yeah..! Yeah, definitely. The ending is pretty 'metal', I think you'll like it if you catch up and finish the book."

"Yeah? Have you finished it already?" He's fidgeting with the corner of his paper, feeling the way his cheeks warm up despite it getting cooler with each minute that passes. he thinks maybe it's you that's making him feel all hot and self-aware.

"Yeah, I finished it in junior year. It's what got me into gothic literature, actually." You didn't look at him, but rather at your notebook, while you smiled. From the outside looking in, you two probably looked stupid dancing around each other like this.

"..Have you always been goth?" He's looking at you now; His glimmering brown irises locked on your visage.

You stutter under his gaze, "Uh- Yeah? I'd like to think so, yeah. My mom doesn't approve of it, but I've always felt this way — it's kinda hard to explain."

He shakes his head, his wavy hair swaying with it, "No, no- I totally get you. Obviously, I'm more into y'know, Sabbath n' all that, but I get the whole 'feeling it' thing. It's kind of like a part of you."

Your eyes light up — you swore you had stars in them. "Yeah definitely, it's something that no one can take away from you, no matter how much it doesn't 'fit'.." A genuine smile makes its way onto your lips, "Have you always been into metal?"

Eddie's fidgeting with his rings now. "Uh.. kind of. My mom got me into music."

A warm smile blooms on your lips, you can tell its a sensitive subject by the softer tone in his voice so you try to change the conversation so he doesn't get uncomfortable. "Same here, for the most part. I actually grew up on metal. I like the music but it gets a bad rep, unfortunately."

"Tell me about it." He sighs laying his chin on his palm, "People hate the unknown."

"They call us satanists for not being miserable like the rest of them." You say half joking, half not.

"They call you that too?" You lock eyes with him, a smile on both of your faces. Like a spark had just been lit between his soul and your own.

"I mean, have you seen the way I dress? It's no wonder they think that. Still though, I wish people could look a bit deeper instead of judging off of my looks."

"I wish." He says, his words softer than before. "..Y'know, I know you're not really into DnD, but I think you'd like Hellfire."

"Is that why you asked me to tutor you?" You smirk, "So you could recruit me into your cult?"

He rolls his eyes but laughs anyway, "No, I actually did need help with that assignment. But I do think you should definitely join my super-awesome, super-cool cult."

You shrug, "Alright then, I'll check it out."

"Cool." He says, trying not to sound too triumphant.

"Cool." you respond awkwardly, trying not to show your excitement. "..So, is that all you needed? For tutoring, I mean." You straighten up your posture.

He blinks as if he's coming back to reality, "Uh.. Yeah I think so. I still have some late work I've gotta get done though."

"Jesus, Eddie." you sigh with an empathetic smile on your face, "How did you even get so behind on the work?"

"I wish I knew the answer 'cause then I'd fix it." He slumps over on the table, laying his head in his crossed arms.

You bit your lip in contemplation, "I mean.. If you want, I could help you after class when we get new assignments..?"

"You're gonna empty my pockets in, like, a week." he sulks.

A laugh escapes you, "No, no, I won't be charging you."

"Just today then?"

You shake your head, "No uh.. You get the 'friend discount'."

"A hundred percent off your awesome tutoring sessions? I think you're being a bit too generous, don't you think?" The smirk on his lips causes you to return a smile towards him while you begin to put your things away.

"It's fine, It's not like you're the only one who does tutoring with me." You shrug.

"My, how confident." He says, handing you your open notebook full of random doodles after glancing at it thoughtfully. "What uh.. What happened to your sketchbook?"

The question alone made you feel guarded again. The giddy feeling of getting close to Eddie had dissipated with the mere mention of reality. Like the spark had been dimmed. "Nothing, ..I just forgot to bring it."

Eddie notices the way you close up in mere seconds before his eyes. He'd heard your laugh for the first time today and seen you smile — really smile — at him, unlike when you were at school. Just like him, you were heavily guarded when you met people you didn't think would accept the real you, at least that's what he'd like to think, because if you were anything like him it meant that he knew how to talk to you in a way that mattered. Getting you to warm up to him hadn't been easy, but it wasn't impossible either. Your smiles and jokes from this afternoon alone proved as much.

He wasn't going to let you suffer all by yourself lonesome.

"You can talk to me, y'know, if something ..did happen."

You avoid eye contact with him. ".. Seems like you know more about it than I do."

"Maybe. But I wanna hear it from you." You were a fool to think he hadn't heard about it in the halls or at class. After all, Janie made sure to make a spectacle of your pain.

Your heart pounds, "It doesn't matter anymore-"

"It does, to me." His tone is soft. No one speaks to you like that.

"It shouldn't."

"And why is that?"

"You just shouldn't. Okay?" The strap of your messenger bag wraps around your shoulder and you're feeling a little more on edge than before.

"..Okay." He says, unsure. "Okay. I won't prod anymore." He puts his hands up in defense. "I'm sorry, I just.. I don't like seeing my friends go through shit on their own."

".. Friend?" The walls that were slowly coming back up again halt their ascent.

He smiles that innocent, sheepish smile that honestly melts your heart. "You gave me the 'friend discount' didn't you?"

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"You don't have to keep walking with me, seriously it's-"

"Nonsense, it's late."

How chivalrous. "It's not because I don't want you to, it's because my mom's a little.." You trailed off but Eddie got the memo.

"Ah. I see." he nods slowly.

"It's nothing personal, I promise."

"Don't worry about it." he says, "Thanks again for taking the time to tutor me."

"Yeah, Of course. You can come to me again if you need help."

Eddie waves his ring-clad hand at you as you continue walking, your figure becoming smaller and smaller as you walked the rest of the way to the mobile home you lived in. Like him, you lived in the trailer park, but your home was on the opposite side from his own. After seeing you disappear within your home, he began on his own way home — happy that he had managed to actually talk to you outside of Mrs. O'Donnell's dreadful English class.

In all honesty, all of Eddie's hope in the love department went out the window when he understood what the label of a 'freak' meant.

Eddie was a dork; Flirting from him would just consist of nerdy facts about music or DnD. He listened to music the majority of the people in Hawkins dubbed 'satanic' despite the lyrics containing profound messages within them that weren't about violence or death. If people got to know him — actually know him — they'd find a damaged boy who renounced the world that rejected him first. He was judged for his interests, but what does judgment from society even matter when you stop caring?

It doesn't.

.. So why did he fear so much that a girl like you — wouldn't even glance in his direction?

He could tell just from the chains you wore at your hip sometimes that you were like him too, just a little different. The long, ankle length, black skirts you wore in the winter, as if you wanted to feel the cold brush your skin, told him narratives of who you were. Through the little quips of conversation you so generously bestowed him with in Mrs. O'Donnell's class, he unlocked dimensions of you others wouldn't have looked twice at.

Eddie knew that you didn't care about how the rest of the world looked at you, because you too, were different. Just like him.

So why did it take him so long to finally 'ask you out'?

The short answer? He cared.

Deep down, the human trait of desiring the approval of others still lingered within him.. it's just, it was limited to a few people. One of those people, being you. He wondered if he just wanted your acceptance, like you were leagues above him or something. It was then that he realized that he didn't just want your approval.. he wanted your heart.

Every day, one learns new things about themselves.

Eddie learned that when he falls, he falls hard. It was just a matter of hitting the ground soon, at least that's what he thought before you smiled at him that first day in Mrs. O'Donnell's.

That first day of senior year in Mrs. O'Donnell's is one he'll always remember.

He had been late to class (yes, even on the first day), when Mrs. O'Donnell punished him with detention after class, he had said that, "In an alternate universe, I was on time, so technically.. I'm not really late, if you really think about it." You didn't laugh, but he saw that silent smile that bloomed on your lips.

And maybe he was just looking too much into things like he always did.

But it couldn't hurt to like you, could it?

Your quietude and presence was refreshing to him, but the quick wit you possessed when dealing with people like Janie left him breathless. You were like another version of him, just way prettier.

Eddie laughed to himself as he thought about it.

"What's got you all giddy, kid?" Eddie was so wrapped up in his thoughts he almost forgot his uncle Wayne hadn't even left for the plant yet.

"Nothing..!" Eddie says trying to stifle a smile as he walked into his room to contemplate. "Nothing at all.."

With the latest wins by the Hawkins High Football team, the season for the Homecoming dance was rearing its annoying head around the corner. In the weeks leading up to it, all you could hear in the halls was talk about who's going with who and what they're going to wear. Every bulletin board had that stupid flier with bold black letters and images of confetti, dresses and sweets like it was some huge event.

You were never much of a party girl. There were some times that you'd go out of state with your mom to visit your Tio's and Tia's for family related parties; they were loud and at the time, you didn't mind it because you were a kid so you'd only play with your cousins. But now that you were older, the parties were.. different. They were less heartfelt and in Hawkins, they were just an excuse to just drink and act stupid without parental supervision like it was the coolest thing to do — it wasn't long before you concluded that they were not at all your scene.

Halloween parties were the only exception, of course.

Which brought you to your current conversation with Eddie in the drama room. Hellfire wasn't until a few minutes later so the two of you were just lounging around in the room talking. You sat on the chair decorated to look like a throne with your legs thrown over one of the armrests and a newspaper you weren't really reading in your hands. Eddie was busy setting up the game while the two of you spoke.

"I just think it's overpriced and overrated. I mean, they have homecoming every year in honor of the football season, they should just call it the 'football party'."

He snickers and playfully says, "Yeah but that's boring, they need something marketable, Sweetheart."

A skip of a heart-beat. "Of course they do."

Eddie's back is turned to you as he sets the game-pieces on the board. "Have.. You ever wanted to go to homecoming?" He hopes you can't tell why he's asking.

You flip the page. "Maybe during freshman year when I was but a wee high-schooler." you say dramatically, nervously trying to deflect without deflecting. "But no, not anymore. It's not like I had anyone to go with anyway, so it was pointless."

".. What about now?" He steals a glance at you from behind the game-board.

You held out your index finger with a smile, "I've got a total of one friend — which would be you, Munson."

Friend. "No boyfriend either?" He asks bluntly. It makes you realize that he's not asking just to ask. So what's his angle?

"..Boyfriends are overrated," you say halfheartedly, still looking at the newspaper article. "Most of the guys here just want a girlfriend as a trophy and the sense of belonging they get from it. Besides, It's not like a guy would want a 'witch' for a girlfriend."

"Dunno," his eyes are focused on the board but his hands feel clammy, "Witches are pretty cool."

You blink at the newspaper and you think your brain short circuits at his words. Did he mean that in the way you think he did? No, it couldn't be. You were reading too much into it. Eddie wasn't a gothic romance book you could fall in love with by reading in between his lines — he was your friend. "Ah.. uhm, yeah. Yeah I guess so….. just not to the general populace." The words came out with a tinge of nervousness and your tongue was unsure of the syllables it uttered but you avoided looking at him now, afraid of giving away your flustered expression.

He snickers, "Yeah, the population we're not a part of."

"I'd have more luck seducing Frankenstein's creature than a high school boy at Hawkins." Eddie laughs in that way that makes your heart feel warm and full and you find it hard to look away when his smile is so genuine. Fortunately, he's still setting up the game so he's not paying too much attention to you. "A-Anyway, How does DnD even work? Like, how do you play?" You put down the newspaper and prop your elbows up on your knees as you hunch over to look at the intricate game he's set up.

He smiles knowingly and crosses his arms as he looks down at you, "I knew you were a nerd."

You scoff, "Yeah, whatever. Forgive me for being interested in my friend's favorite fantasy game."

"I'm just kidding," he says, moving to sit on the armrest beside you. "Basically, it's an adventure-slash-fantasy game where you can create characters who go on quests narrated by the Dungeon Master — also known as yours truly. It's a story based game, we call them campaigns, and you use dice that dictate your actions."

"Sounds math-y, remind me why its fun again?" You say half-jokingly while looking up at him, trying to not think about how close he is right now.

A smile blooms on his lips, "'Cause it's a fantasy story! I mean, imagine Frankenstein, but with wizards and you get to actually be in the story making choices for the characters."

You consider it for a moment, "Okay, you're right, that does sound fun."

"We're in the middle of a campaign so you might be a bit confused at first, but I promise once you get into it, it's life changing."

You smile and you're about to say something before the door opens and a few kids you've only ever seen around Eddie in the halls start funneling into the dimly lit drama room. Your posture becomes stiff and a sort of jittery feeling settles in your stomach. Meeting new people always made you feel anxious because you were different but you had an inkling that this time wouldn't be the same.

Eddie reassuringly offers you a hand to stand and bring attention towards the new presence in the room. You take it and his fingers feel warm in your own, a little clammy and his rings feel cold but you hold it like its grounding you. "Everyone, meet ________. She'll be watching the campaign today, sooo let's put on a good performance, alright?" Eddie's charismatic tone makes you feel a little less nervous but you're still focused on the room full of misfits looking at you like an ancient artifact in a museum.

You awkwardly wave at them to ease some of the tension — they wave back thankfully — and Eddie begins pointing out and introducing his friends to you while they all get settled. He places a hand securely near the junction where your neck meets your shoulder as he names them.

"That's Gareth, he's Jeff, the two near the end are Dustin and Mike.. We have another member too, but he seems to be missing a lot as of late." He straightens up and lets you go, the warmth of his hand still lingering on your skin. "Henderson, where's Sinclair?"

You sit down, not missing the way the kid with the messy curls winces at Eddie's question. "He.. had a game. He couldn't come today, but he'll be next time, Promise! Mike n' I'll drag 'im here if it comes to that."

Eddie sighs heavily before taking his seat. "Yeah, you better. Let's get started, this one's a long one, gentlemen-" he glances at you, "-and gentlelady."

With that, the game begins.

Despite just being a specator for the hour-long campaign, you learned quite a lot. One, Dungeons and Dragons wasn't too bad a game and was actually quite entertaining.. and two, Eddie was one hell of a great storyteller. Throughout the entire four hour long session, you found it hard to look away from Eddie at all. There were moments in which he sold the tension so well that you felt as if you were the one playing; The mark of a great story teller and writer.

So why was it that he was so bad at English?

Once the campaign ended with the boys feeling victorious, something about one of the characters killing Vecna, you all cleaned up and walked outside the school as a group. You found it welcoming that they didn't act like you were some outsider just sitting in. They laughed at your sarcasm and even explained some of the lore of the game to you.

It was October so it was windy when all of you made it out the door. The sun was beginning to set so you were about to say goodbye to everyone and get yourself home. But before you could even utter the thought, Eddie turned to you and asked if you wanted a ride home.

"I'm driving Henderson and Wheeler home anyway so I was just thinking, I dunno, you might want a ride too? I mean, you live on the opposite side of my place so it wouldn't be too much trouble. If you want, of course."

You blinked a couple times in quiet admiration of his unfiltered chivalry, before shaking your head. "No, It's okay, I wouldn't wanna trouble you-"

"Trouble me? Nonsense," he rolls his eyes with a smirk, "C'mon, I'll drive you home."

With a quiet, "Okay.." and a flustered expression that you tried to hide, you hopped into the passenger seat. Eddie bid fairwell to his other friends before getting in himself.

"So, are you really Eddie's friend?" Dustin speaks up, a suggestive lilt to his tone as he looks towards the metalhead at your side who reaches back and tips Dustin'ss cap upwards with a scoff.

"Yeah, she's my friend, Henderson." Eddie says it like it's obvious.

You laugh at their banter, "I sat through four hours of you guys nerding out over a fantasy game so, yeah. I'd say I'm his friend.." Your eyes drift towards the space in between Eddie's seat and your own, finding a bunch of cassette tapes in a box, some were lying around the floor as well. "No way, is this Maiden?"

"Uh, Yeah it's Maiden!" He's smiling again. "I've got a whole buncha albums on cassette."

You flip through the cassette tapes finding a whole lot of titles you recognized but your eyes settled on only one of them. "Master of Reality?" Eddie noticed the way your tone morphed into something softer. "I used to listen to this all the time when I was a younger.. can I play it?" Your eyes seemed to glow, like there were stars in them — how could he say no?

"Yeah, I see why you two are friends," Dustin interrupts with his arms crossed and a smirk on his lips like he knows something you don't. "You two are complete nerds about music."

This makes you smile; You're love for music was something you always carried with you. The way it brought family members and friends together was something you lived for; It helped you find pieces of yourself when you felt lost. "Listen to this absolute masterpiece and then tell me how it's possible to not love music." Your fingers popped the cassette tape in and as soon as you pressed play, the familiar sounds of Tony Iommi's iconic guitar riffs from 'Sweet Leaf' started playing.

It wasn't long before Eddie and you were singing along to Ozzy's voice on the player the entire ride home.

Despite being from a culture in which togetherness is a staple, in your home — it felt like your ball and chain. You loved your mother, to death even. But there was no way you'd live for her and that was way harder than any sacrificial death you were capable of. After moving to Hawkins, your relationship had only gotten worse. Being an outcast back at home was fine because at least you had friends to fall back on; Friends you knew would understand you when your own family didn't. However, here in Hawkins you were simply more isolated than ever — both at home and anywhere else, you were alien.

It was obvious to anyone that came across you that you were.. not white. It came out in your mannerisms and the way you spoke, it wasn't something you could erase no matter how hard you tried. Moving away from California and then suddenly being surrounded by white kids on top of that — kids who already didn't associate with you because you were goth — it was only natural that you would wish sometimes that you weren't different. Over time, you accepted it of course, but that meant having to let go of your human desire for connection.

You would rather maintain people at a distance rather than let them see your inner workings because connection meant having another person acknowledge your difference and love you, not in spite of it, ..but because of it.

However, the act of maintaining people at a distance only became harder when you started involving yourself with Eddie and his group of misfit friends. Throughout the months of the first semester, you had been getting closer to them through Hellfire and your common interests in music. Yes, you never let Eddie come as close to your front door, or hear you speak in your native language, but it wasn't like he had to know. If he did, you wondered if he'd still stick around.

Even though you tried to maintain him at a distance while still trying to be his friend, Eddie was relentless when it came to including you into everything he did. You wondered if he was messing with you half of the time because even if you were both part of the same crowd, it was still hard to believe that he would want to hang out with you given your poor reputation.

"Do you wanna go to homecoming with me?"

The words you were saying came to a halt and for a moment you just looked at him with a confused look on your face, "I'm sorry, what?"

"Do you want to go to homecoming with me?"

"Yeah, okay that's what I thought you said," you muttered, "Um.. Why?"

"Why?" Now Eddie's just as confused as you are. "What d'ya mean 'why'? Obviously I want to take you, or else I wouldn't have asked." You're still confused as hell because with the way he's talking about this, you'd think he was talking about the weather instead of asking you to a romantic school dance.

"Yeah, I got that.. It's just- why do you want to take me?"

"..Do you not want to?" He sounds unsure of himself and the sound of that anxious lilt in his tone graces your eardrums.

You shake your head, "No, no that's not what I mean. I mean, I'd like to go with you- it's just like, I don't usually get asked to school dances so this is just kind of.. uncharted territory- a-and now I'm sort of wondering-"

Eddie would've let you ramble on like you usually did when you were caught off guard and nervous — it was something he'd noticed a while back when he asked you about your interests — but he was anxious for an answer, given the fact that he'd practically laid out his heart on the table when he asked that question. "A yes or no is fine, I promise I won't feel any type of way about it if you don't want to go." His tone is soft, the way it always is with you and you sort of melt at how understanding he is. You forget that he's just like you in the sense that it's uncharted territory for the both of you.

You bit the inside of your cheek and cracked a smile, "Okay.. okay, yeah. I'd like to go with you." Your fingers begin fidgeting with the corner of your paper, "Um.. as friends though, right?"

Internally, Eddie wouldn't mind if it was something romantic, but as always — he doesn't want to scare you away. "Yeah, yeah. As friends, of course.."

"Cool.." you nod, pursing your lips to stop yourself from smiling too much.

He nods, his palms are sweaty and he wonders if his face is red from how hot it feels. "Cool.."

Soon, the bell rings and the two of you begin walking out of Mrs. O'Donnell's class. "So.. What brought this on? I didn't take you as the type to go to school dances."

He walks closely next to you, his forearm brushing against yours. "Mm.. I mean, there's a first time for everything, right? Plus, even if you think they're overrated, I still think it'd be enjoyable to go and make fun of everybody else over there. Don't you?"

You snicker at his comment, "You know me so well. Can't wait to see all the jocks tripping over each other's-"

"Look guys, It's the freaks again. How fitting that they finally found each other, huh?"

You closed your eyes and let out a sigh at the sound of Janie's high pitched voice.

Eddie stops walking and looks back for a second, "Is that-"

"Keep walking," You pull him by his sleeve and keep your hand there while the two of you walk away from the cheerleader. Eddie notices your stiff expression, how you hang onto his sleeve like you're afraid he'll leave you by yourself. He doesn't comment on it though.

"Avoiding me?" Janie's friends laugh at her remark. "Yeah, I would too, especially after what happened last time!" She snickers and her steps come to a halt when you begin speed walking away from her. Eddie's still letting you tug him alongside you and as soon as the two of you make it outside through the gate beside the football field, your walking slows.

"You okay?"

You nod, thanking the heavens that your hair pretty much hides your tearful expression. You're not looking at him but when you bring your hand up to wipe away the tear forming in your left eye with your pinky, Eddie knows you're anything but okay. Within seconds, you feel the ghost of Eddie's fingers on your arm and against your better judgment, you turn around fully, still looking away from him.

You looked.. small. It's significant and Eddie doesn't miss it because around him you've never been afraid to speak your mind. You're not loud, but your presence doesn't ask for permission to exist, it demands it.. So to see you reduced to hunched shoulders and eyes that won't look at him speaks volumes to him. Volumes louder than thrashing guitars and metal-screeching. In the months that he's gotten to know you, it's not a coincidence that he's also managed to feel some sort of affections towards you.

But he's never had someone cry in front of him — much less a girl he had a crush on.

So his hands remain at his sides even though his heart urges him to do something.

Anything.

Unfortunately, you beat him to it.

"Sorry, I don't know why I got so worked up about it," you crack a small smile that he knows doesn't come from happiness and it feels like he's been impaled. He begins to walk beside you towards the bench in the woods where the two of you studied after school; Clammy hands in his pockets. There's a festering mix of helplessness and anger within the pit of his stomach but it isn't towards you. You notice his rigid demeanor and you wonder if you've made him angry or upset somehow. Still, you follow close beside him.

"You don't have to apologize for feeling like that." he says finally with a sigh and stops walking.

"..You're not mad?"

"At you?" He shoots you an incredulous expression, like he couldn't believe you even thought that for a second. "I couldn't be mad at you. It's more like.. I'm mad at everyone else."

You bite your bottom lip in a contemplative gesture, now looking ahead instead of at your shoes. "Oh."

"At the end of the day, we shouldn't have to endure such bullshit just for existing the way we do."

"We shouldn't.. but it doesn't help when the things they say are.. true."

He stops walking and looks down at you with worried eyes. "C'mon- don't tell me you actually believe them..? There's.. There's nothing wrong with you. Nothing."

"No, ..but it isn't a matter of believing." your brows furrow and now you're looking him in the eye. "I am different."

"We are but that doesn't mean we're wrong, or mistakes for being-"

"No, Eddie, you don't get it. I am different." You cross your arms, as if a barrier of any kind could keep the confrontation from hurting less. You knew you'd have to talk about it at some point, but it wasn't going at all how you had expected it to go. "You don't know what it's like ..to be made fun of for the food you eat just 'cause it's different- or because you speak with an accent- or because of the features of your face or the color of your skin..!" By this point, your words are wobbly but at the same time, they carry so much weight. "I can't- I can't just erase my culture- my identity. It's who I am and it follows me everywhere and I just—"

"No one's asking you to change..!" He breaks through your rambling and doesn't miss how your teary, scared eyes go wide with surprise. "I know you're different. I knew it before I even talked to you.. But none of that racist bullshit matters to me. I'm still going to be here for you regardless of what anyone else thinks."

"But it matters! If it didn't, Janie wouldn't have turned my sketchbook to cinders in front of me!" Finally, your tears begin to spill down your cheeks.

Eddie's heart feels like its being ripped from him, but still, he continues. "It matters because its part of who you are, but that's it! I don't care what anyone else thinks about you.. and you shouldn't either, even if it does to everyone else." His closes the distance and reaches out to wipe the tears from your cheeks, making sure your eyeliner doesn't smudge too much. "I might not know what it's like to be you, but you're the coolest girl I know and I'll be damned before I let you forget it."

You're frowning from the utter sincerity of his words and you're sure the tears won't stop but your heart feels warm because.. He's seeing you. He's not telling you that who you are doesn't matter, but instead that you should be unapologetic about that aspect of yourself. His words aren't only comforting, but empowering because it's true. You've told yourself the same things for years, but even strong people have their weak moments too.

"I didn't.. I wasn't going to talk about it because I didn't want.. to lose you because of it." You avoid his gaze again but he cups your cheeks and makes you look at him.

"Are you kidding me? Even if everyone else turned their backs on you, I'd still choose to be by your side. Fuck everyone else."

And just like that, you're smiling through the tears. "Fuck everyone else?"

"Hell yeah! Fuck every shallow person that ever made you feel like a mistake, 'cause you're not."

You sniffle and nod before beginning to wipe your tear-stained cheeks. His hands leave their warmth on your cheeks even when they withdraw from your face. "Alright then, Fuck 'em."

"Exactly." Eddie smirks like a proud mentor, happy that he didn't just spectate on the sidelines — even happier that he made you smile. "So.. do you wanna go get frozen yogurt?"

You snicker, "Frozen yogurt in winter? It's like asking to get sick." Only Eddie could turn a heavily emotional moment into something lighthearted. He was kind like that.

"Is that a 'no'?"

"Far from it, you know I'll come with as long as you're paying." You joke.

He rolls his eyes and hooks an arm around your neck as the two of you begin walking to the parking lot, "Of course I'm paying, sweetheart. How could you ever think otherwise?"

"My, how preposterous of me to assume such things."

"I concur, it is preposterous indeed!" He hooks an arm comfortably around your neck, determined to keep you close; as if proximity would wash away the shame you felt a few minutes ago. Perhaps the shame of being different would leave you alone soon, but for now, Eddie's support was enough to remember that you didn't have to carry that shame. It was easy to forget sometimes that society's opinions about you only had as much weight as you gave them.

It was your reality and you couldn't change it, but you could change how you reacted to it.

"So, are you gonna get strawberry again?" you ask him, his hair slightly tickling your neck.

"Are you gonna get chocolate?"

"Yes?"

"There's your answer." he snickers, knowing that you're probably rolling your eyes right about now after hearing his quick-witted reply.

"You're unbearable."

"And yet, you still stay." he gazes warmly towards the setting sun. He's not missing the way you're leaning into him, or the way you intertwine your hand with the hand that he has loosely draped around you without so much as a word about it. Inside, he's panicking because he doesn't know if it's a sign you like him or if you're just being friendly, but regardless of that, he chooses to roll with it to not ruin the moment.

"I'm only going for the Frogurt."

"Uh-Huh, whatever helps you sleep at night, Sweetheart."

The back and forth between the two of you almost makes you forget that you bared your deepest insecurity to your closest friend and semi-crush. But maybe it wasn't a bad thing.. After all, he said it wasn't. Could it hurt to trust in someone else for once?

He'd certainly proved himself so far.. you think that maybe it's okay.

After he drives the both of you to get frozen yogurt at one of the local shops in town, the two of you decided to enjoy it in his car while one of his Led Zeppelin cassettes played softly in the back ground. From the sunset until dark the two of you talked about endless things; About music, how much it meant to the two of you, about politics, the world the two of you grew up experiencing.. it was a heartfelt conversation. Conversations with Eddie were always enjoyable because you felt like he just got you.

He was like your other half.

"..I know you don't really want to talk about it but.. why'd you think I wouldn't wanna be friends? Y'know, if I.. 'found out' about you." He was never good at not being blunt.

You chuckle a bit before setting your cup of frozen yogurt on your thigh; The candies swirling in the frozen chocolate. "For a lot of reasons, y'know.. You and I are different and it's painly obvious. Growing up here, being the way I am, I know that it isn't wrong for us to be friends, but I also know that a lot of people just don't like to associate with people like me, y'know?"

"Yeah, I get that.. I guess it just sucks." He settles into the drivers seat and looks ahead out of the front window. "I mean, you experience life so differently from me. I guess it just never crossed my mind that you'd feel.. bad about it."

"It's not that.. it's just, I guess when you grow up latino surrounded by white people who kinda make you feel ashamed for existing, you know, you carry that shit.. It doesn't just go away. It's like metal — it has a bad rep, so the majority of people don't like it, but there's a select few that do and see it for what it is." You don't notice the way his vision's shifted from the things outside to you. Your words are warm and passionate, it's like you're dangling a stopwatch in front of him every time you speak; it's hypnotic — you're hypnotic.

"You, and hellfire.. you guys are kinda like that select few of people, for me." You turn to look at him only to realize he's already looking. Your cheeks feel hot again and you're stomach churns but in a good way. "Or something, I dunno. It's hard to talk about 'cause it matters to me, but I'm glad you're not like everyone else."

"I'm glad you trust me enough to talk to me about it," he says, looking away when you meet his eyes and feeling his hands get clammy again. "Just.. know that you don't have to carry that shame. Not when you're with me, at least. 'Kay?"

With a strange feeling of optimism swirling in your chest, you nod happily and pick up your frozen yogurt again. "Thank you for listening, It means a lot to me." You mean a lot to me.

He inserts the key into the ignition with a small smile on his face. "You don't have to thank me for that. It's what friends do, right?"

You nod in agreement and take a spoonful of chocolate frozen yogurt into your mouth, "So what's up with the Christmas show? Is Corroded Coffin doing it or not?"

At this point, he's pulling out of the parking space and you can't help but let your eyes wander over his hands and the way they grip the steering wheel with practiced ease. Eddie's rings seem to gleam in the scarce light of the light-posts outside as his fingers meticulously dance around the wheel like he's an expert — his driving is chaotic at best, but you're not immune to the irrational thoughts your brain produces when you're next to the guy you have undecided feelings for.

You blink to snap yourself out of the trance-like state you were falling into and scrape the bottom of the paper cup with the plastic spoon in your hand. "Yeah, it's a charity show though so it'll be a little different."

"I didn't know The Hideout did charity. What organization are you guys supporting?"

"It's not really an official thing, they just wanted to donate toys for kids in the foster care system and they asked us to promote so," He shrugged, leaning back into his seat, "We decided to do it, if that makes sense."

"That's really nice of them," A small laugh escapes you, "It'll be funny watching a bunch of metalheads with toys in hand. When is the show?"

A warm feeling — a familiar one that you seem to be giving him more frequently — settles in his chest. "The twenty-fourth. D'you wanna come?"

"I would if I could," you say, biting your lip like you always do when you're thinking hard about something. "I'll probably be busy that day though"

"How come?"

"It's Christmas." you say, failing to notice the way Eddie's eyebrow quirks up.

"Christmas isn't until the 25th..?"

"Ohh-! No, um," you laugh a little, "Latinos celebrate on the twenty-fourth and the twenty-fifth."

"Really? Why?" He takes the can of soda from the cup holder and brings it to his lips.

"Yeah, the twenty-fourth for us is Nochebuena, we spend that night making food and eating with family before opening gifts at midnight on the twenty-fifth."

It's a different concept to him, but he's happy to learn more about your culture and it shows in his curious tone. "So you guys don't open gifts in the morning?"

You shake your head, "Nah, I like it better that way though." You're contemplating your next words, but they fly out before you can even settle on the right ones, "If you want, you can come over for Christmas..? I mean, it's just you and Wayne right?" The nervousness nips at your insides, twisting and turning inside of you. For some reason it feels like you're asking him to be a part of something intimate — something sacred.

"Uh..Are you sure? What about your mom?" It seems that your nervousness is contagious because Eddie feels that warmth that flushes his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He's thankful that it's dark outside and you can't see it.

"Yeahh so, she actually keeps asking to meet you since we hang out a lot so .. I don't think it'd be too bad? I mean unless you have your own plans-"

"No-!" He says too quickly, "Ah.. I mean, no it's fine. I don't really have anything planned, everyone's with their families so- I don't mind going." A subtle smile blooms on his face as he notices your face light up.

"Just- Don't expect too much, okay? It's just my mom, my little sister and I so it's not a huge thing."

"You don't have to impress me, I hope you know that." He chuckles and you want to shrink into yourself due to his observance. It was a new experience, having someone read you like an open book when people usually didn't even look past your cover. Then again, the two of you were books of similar genres so it should have been no surprise that he read in between your lines.

"A- ..I'm not trying to..!" you try to save face and gather your things, "Anyway, thanks for cheering me up about the whole, uh.. Janie.. thing, and for the frozen yogurt; It means a lot to me, Eddie." His brown eyes adorably widened slightly at your weirdly sentimental statement. He knew you were fairly in-tune with your emotions, if listening to your poems in his room was anything to go by — but when you talk to him so softly, your words succeed in making his heart skip a beat.

"Ye- Yeah. Of course, I said I'd always be here for you didn't I?"

You hesitate to open the door and nod, meeting his gaze with a smile warmly. "The same goes for you too, y'know. I know our struggles aren't the same.. but we're both outcasts n' we've got to stick together, right?"

Your question throws him off a little but he agrees with you before you exit his van and wave at him while he begins pulling out. In a world that taught him he couldn't ever show his most vulnerable aspects to anyone, he had to admit that you had a way of bringing that out of him. It was strange to hear it, even stranger to feel it — but that didn't mean it wasn't pleasant.

He failed to lie to himself about how bad he wants to treasure you upon returning home.

"Look, How is it?" You tilt your sketchbook towards the boy beside you and show him the drawing you were currently working on. It was lunch, so the two of you decided to continue drawing the characters that Hellfire made up for their campaign. You thought it'd be cool to do so and asked Dustin for help. He didn't mind much, so here the two of you were.

"It looks really good, but she has a gem here," he points to the character's forehead and you nod before sketching the idea out. "So, what's up between you and Eddie?"

Your eyes widened slightly before returning to your normal expression and biting the inside of your cheek. "Uh.. Nothing? Why?"

He nudges your side and annoyingly wiggles his eyebrows with a smug expression on his face, "You guys seem really.. friendly as of late."

"Riiiiiiight. And that's supposed to mean that Eddie n' I have got something going on?"

"Precisely." He says matter-of-factly, "I'd go as far as to say that there's an unspoken, romantic, thing going on between the two of you…"

You chuckle and continue sketching, "Whatever.."

"You're not denying it!" He snickers.

You scoff, keeping your eyes laser-focused on the paper in front of you. "It's not-! You're just reading too much into things..!"

"Soooo… You don't like Eddie?"

"I do, as a friend." You have a feeling Dustin knows you're lying but you don't backtrack.

"Right, because friends totally look at each other the way you two do."

"What are you even talking about?" A smile breaks through your expression and you start laughing a little, "Eddie and I are just normal friends, there's nothing to it, Dustin."

"So doodling your best friend in your notebook with bats and hearts isn't romantic?"

"When in the hell did you see that??" Your eyes go wide and now you're flipping to the exact page he's talking about. The one all the way in the back, away from the main ones at the front.

"Again, you're not denying it."

In the face of his persistence, your resolve was basically minute, so you resigned to sigh and admit it to him. "Fine, but you can't tell him. Anything."

"I knew it!!" The boy jumps up from his place at your side in the hall looking like he just won the damn lottery.

"Knew what?"

Both of you turn to look at the man of the hour. "Speak of the devil and he shall appear." You murmured as you looked back at your notebook and quickly flipped it to the page you and Dustin were working on beforehand in an effort to hide the aforementioned 'romantic' sketches.

Eddie snickers and sits beside Dustin who's smirking ear to ear as he resumes his seated position next to you, "What are you two doing here?"

You shrug, "Dustin wanted me to design a character from the campaign."

"The mage," Dustin interjects, "What are you doing here, Eddie?" Dustin looks at you when he says Eddie's name, his tone suggestive.

Your breathing hitches when Eddie confusedly looks at Dustin beside him.

"Why'd you say my name like that?"

"No reason…" Dustin crosses his arms and watches as you try to tune him out (to no avail).

"Okay.. Anyway," Eddie turns back to you, "How'd you do on your physiology quiz?"

"A hundred out of a hundred, as always." You take the paper out of your bag and show it to him proudly.

"Cocky." He says with a smug look on his face as he looks at your answers. "What the hell is a 'Gluteus Maximus'? That shit sounds like a superpower."

You snort, "It's a fancy word for ass, you dolt."

"No fucking way," he laughs along with you. You find it hard to focus on Eddie when Dustin is behind him making kissy faces at you.

"Physiology is fun, you should've taken it. I've been able to get way better at my anatomy because of it."

"Yeah?"

"Well- That's what I think, at aleast."

"Yeah, Human anatomy is suuuper cool." Dustin says in that suggestive tone again.

"Dude." Eddie deadpans at the unfunny pun but you're too busy covering your face with your hands, wanting to disappear.

Thankfully, the bell rings and saves you from the embarrassment he's punishing you with. Eddie helps you pack up your art supplies which is really just stray colored pencils, highlighters, pens and sticky notes and tells Dustin he'll walk you to class before turning back to you. Dustin leaves the two of you, but not without wiggling his eyebrows at you and giving you a thumbs up before doing so.

"What was that about?" Eddie asks you.

You shrug and play it off like you don't know exactly what Dustin was trying to do, "Dunno, You know how freshmen are."

"Right.. I keep forgetting how young he is. He's like a mini-me."

"You can say that again," A fond smile blooms upon your lips, "The two of you are practically inseparable."

He sighs with a satisfied smile on his face, "Speaking of being inseparable, You and I are about to be the same tonight."

Blood rushes to your face, "We are?"

"Uh.. Yeah? Do you know of any other 'freaks' going to homecoming?"

"Oh yeah..! That's today huh.." Your fingers fidget with the strap of your satchel that hangs from your shoulder. It was your first official school dance so it made sense that you were nervous. Going with a guy you had an interest in didn't help your case either.

Admittedly, you've had crushes before, but you were the type of person who admitted defeat before even trying to confess so you never acted on them. Nothing was different about your crush on Eddie. Even if he was your friend, being romantically involved with someone else required more effort and you were pretty sure that you knew nothing about relationships which only incapacitated you even more.

Phantom of the Opera wasn't your reality and you couldn't expect to find your very own Erik in this world — so you decided it was over before it even had a chance to begin, much to your internal heartache.

He stuffs his hands into his pockets. "Did you forget?"

"How could I? There's neon posters everywhere." You joked.

His laugh sounds like the most harmonious choir. "Right. Well, I'll pick you up at around seven thirty, how does that sound?"

"Yeah, I'm good with that. We'll have an hour to loiter around before it starts."

"We could annoy them with our devil music when it starts," He suggests with a cheeky smile.

"Totally, we can just roll up and blast Motörhead on the radio until they come out with their pitchforks."

"They might just run us out of there if we go too far." It's a possibility, but he doesn't look too scared about it — in fact, he looks pretty excited about the prospect.

"Maybe," You smirk, "But when have normies ever scared us?"

"Seriously, you're like me, but a girl."

His statement makes you laugh, but he thinks you've genuinely snatched his heart right out of his chest like some kind of vampire. To be fair, he wouldn't mind if you did, though. He wouldn't have it any other way.

The two of you stop at your physiology class. "I'll see you after school?"

"Yeah. Seven thirty."

"Alright then," You smile warmly before entering the classroom.

You had a feeling tonight would be a night you'd remember for years to come.

.

.

.

"A que hora es el baile (What time is the dance)?"

"A las siete y media (At seven thirty)," you answer curtly. Your relationship with your mom was strained to say the least. You weren't exactly the 'perfect' daughter in the sense that you didn't dress nor act the way she wanted. Being different in America wasn't an exception — you either assimilated, or you were shunned. The fact that you were Latine and goth never helped your case.

The strain in your relationship with your mom didn't come from lack of love, it came from her fear of you being targeted for being your authentic self and your unwillingness to water yourself down for anyone. She loved you and you loved her — but it was hard to express it.

"Y cuando piensas llegar a casa (And when do you think you'll come home)?"

"Cuando termine (When it's finished)."

"…"

Your mother stays silent and you can tell theres tension in the air but you reach for your pale foundation without restraint — without fear.

"Te vas a ir con ese maquillaje diabólica otra vez (You're leaving with that diabolic makeup again)?" She crosses her arms and you can only find it in yourself to sigh. You've tried numerous times before to tell her that there was nothing satanic about your makeup, that it was harmful rhetoric to make people like you seem dangerous when the real danger was the systems of oppression present within the country — but you've gone over it enough to know that she's not going to accept it no matter how hard you try to explain, so you've given up.

"Si (Yeah)."

"No se porque sientes que necesitas eso si ya te miras bonita sin ello (I don't know what you feel like you need that when you already look beautiful without it)."

"No siento que lo necesito, solo lo prefiero (I don't feel like I need it, I just prefer it)."

"Hm. Que preferencia mas questionable (What a questionable preference)." With a look of disdain, she exits the room you share with your sister.

You're wearing a long black sequin dress that you bought second hand as you're applying your dark eyeshadow. There's a sadness and a sort of anger that festers within the pit of your chest below your heart, but you try not to let it affect you. You look at yourself in the mirror and you feel like you want to cry. Moments like these were the reason you escaped to Eddie's most of the time.

"Why do you always make mom mad?" You can see the reflection of your little sister's eyes from behind her book. She's worried and confused.

"I don't make her mad, she chooses that. She's just scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Scared of looking like a freak for being associated with me." You sigh, "This isn't just a costume, it's a way of life."

".. I don't get it."

"You don't," you pull yourself away from the mirror and look at your work, "But you will when you're older."

She goes back to reading her book, "Ok.. I think you look pretty, by the way.."

A small smile breaks out, easing your festering emotions a little. "Thank you."

A few minutes pass before the clock strikes seven-thirty and by that time, there's a knock at your door.

Shit. You forgot to tell him you'd meet him outside, didn't you?

You run from your spot at the mirror to get to the door before your mom did.. Unfortunately, you were too late for that. By the time you rounded the corner, she had already invited him inside. Eddie was on the couch and you had to do a double take, looking at her, then at him, then at her again.

"Es tu amigo, verdad? El metalero? (He's your friend right? The metalhead?)" She's smiling — a stark difference to her past self just fifteen minutes ago — and brewing up some coffee. You could never figure out how her mood could change so quickly.

"Se llama Eddie, que- ehm.. que esta haciendo aqui? (His name's Eddie, what- uhm.. what is he doing here?"

"I asked him if he wanted coffee," your mom says with a cheeky smile. "He said yes, so I invited him inside." Her english was choppy and her accent showed through but all you could do was scream internally. She was speaking english so he'd know what she was saying. How clever.

"How nice of you." you deadpanned, speaking through your slightly gritted teeth.

You leaned over the back of the couch next to Eddie, "Why are you here?"

He smirks, "I said I'd pick you up, didn't I?"

You picked a bad time to be chivalrous Eddie. Mentally, you were facepalming.

"I was going to meet you outside.." you break your eye contact with him and look over to your mom who's still paying attention to the kettle on the stove.

"Should I have said no to the coffee?"

You groan softly and sigh afterwards, "No- Well, I dunno. I just.. let's try to make this short, okay?"

Noting your hesitance and your hurry to get out of here, he doesn't need an explanation to know you're on edge and nods. "Alright, Sweetheart."

Your blood rushes to your face and you lean down to whisper to him, "Don't call me that either, I don't want them getting the wrong idea. Please."

He snickers but agrees nonetheless.

Once the kettle begins to whistle, you go to turn it off on instinct. Coffee was a staple at this point — you'd get headaches if you didn't have a cup a day if you were being honest. "How do you take your coffee?"

"Super sweet, like you." he says without much thought.

"Yeah alright, lover-boy." You roll your eyes and begin making the coffee. Your sister and mom emerge from the tiny hall in the home and go to the couch. They chat about school (it's mostly your mom questioning him about his hobbies, interests and of course — his friendship with you). You bring the cups of coffee on a tray and lay it on the coffee table.

"So, what are your intentions with my daughter?"

You almost choke on your spit, "De que habla- (What are you talki-)"

"Ch-ch." Your mom shushes you while giving you a stern 'shut up' look before turning back to Eddie with a heartfelt smile.

Eddie takes the cup of coffee, basically hiding behind it when he notices the tension. He takes a sip before responding, "Um.. we're just friends. Nothing like that." A small chuckle leaves him and you stay quiet to see your mom's reaction, but she only nods earnestly in response and drinks from her coffee cup.

"Okay, I want you to bring her back before ten." She says as she goes to tend to the pot on the stove. She was cooking caldo de res for the evening since it was getting colder. "Are you two going to eat before leaving or no? The soup is almost done."

You don't let him answer, "Con el cafe esta bien, Ma. (The coffee is enough, mom.)"

"Ok pues, solo estaba ofreciendo.. (Alright then, I was just offering..)" She says with a cheeky smile as if you're acting dramatic. Can she really blame you when she's suggesting that there's something more than friendship between the two of you though? She was starting to remind you of Dustin earlier today…

"Hey," Eddie says, "Everything okay?"

You let out a sigh and nod, "Yeah, everything's fine.. Just overwhelmed." The scent of coffee wafted into your nose, it calmed you a little as you drank it. You'd offer bread to him as well if you hadn't forgotten to go to the store last weekend. He lays a hand on your upper arm and rubs it reassuringly. No words were exchanged, just warm glances with mountains of passion behind them.

In the time the two of you finish your coffee, you tell Eddie to wait for you outside. He bids farewell to your mother and thanks her for the coffee. You're about to leave with a trench coat cradled in your arms when your mom stops you and pulls you into a hug. You're confused at first but you return it after a few seconds. "Que paso? (What happened?)"

"Nada, solo.. (Nothing, just..)" She pulls away from you and a warm expression is on her face, "Ten cuidado. (Be safe.)"

You only smile and hug her again. Her disdain over your appearance and demeanor really wasn't disdain, but instead worry. The worry that you'd have it hard in life because of your choices. Yet even then, she couldn't find it in herself to let you leave without a hug — without a reminder of her love for you.

She waved you off and told you to not do anything reckless before you entered the passenger seat of Eddie's van.

"You know uh.. for the record, she wasn't too bad."

Chuckling, you check your makeup in the mirror embedded in the sun visor and reply, "She was pretty calm, which was unexpected so you must've done something right."

He laughs, "You on the other hand, were worried as fuck. Are you guys not on good terms?"

You lay back in your seat after folding the sun visor closed, "It's complicated. She loves me, but not all of me. Y'know, the whole 'looking like a vampire' thing."

"Ah.. I get it." He glances to the side to steal a look at your outfit. He didn't exactly get to admire you when the two of you were preoccupied with your mother. "For what its worth, I think you look ..good."

Eddie mentally beats himself up over his choice of words. 'Good? Really? Is that the best you can do??' he cringes at himself but catches your laugh nonetheless. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing-! I was just.. thinking about something Dustin said."

"Henderson?" his eyebrow quirks up, "You've been hanging out with him a lot lately actually, what's up with that?" He's been meaning to ask, especially since Dustin's been ditching him to hang out with you. It's not bad, it's just… strange — Not like he's jealous or anything. How could he be jealous of his mini-him?

"Clearly he's gotten tired of you," you joke.

"Ha-ha, very funny." Eddie rolls his eyes.

"Seriously though, He just likes watching me draw, I think." You lie. Well, it's a half-truth actually. Dustin's been especially clingy to you because he thought you had the hots for his new, super-cool and super-dorky best friend; the same one sitting next to you currently.

He was right about it, but that was besides the point.

"You're good at it, hell- I could watch you for hours too. Your stuff's impressive."

"Thanks, Although.." you sigh, "Kinda wish I still had my old sketchbook. It had a bunch of finished drawings n' studies.." You fidgeted with your hands as you recalled the book you lost to Janie's lighter. You shook your head as if to shake off the thoughts, "Sorry, I didn't mean to bring the mood down." An apologetic chuckle escapes you halfheartedly.

"You're not bringing to mood down, I mean.. I know what it's like.. But since we're talking about it, I guess now's a good time as any." Eddie reaches behind your seat and pulls out a box wrapped in shiny black wrapping paper with a red bow on top. "It's nothing special, I've been wanting to give it to you for a while now since Janie brought it up a few days ago- I dunno if you remember.."

You chuckled a little, "How could I forget?" Your eyebrows knotted together as you unwrapped the box, careful not to rip the paper up. When you took off the lid, a leather-bound book was staring right back at you, right next to a cassette tape which you immediately recognized as Juju. "Eddie.." You blink and stare at the box, then at him, then at the box again. "There's no way I can accept this- You didn't have to go this far for me..!" You could feel tears welling up in your eyes as you picked up the book with tender fingers.

When you opened it up, good quality, yet rough, paper greeted you. It must have costed him a lot to get a sketchbook as good as the one you were currently cradling in your hands. Eddie smiles, "Well, you're kinda gonna have to accept it — I don't know any other vampire-looking artists."

You dab the corner of your eyes so as to not ruin your makeup and laugh at his joke. "I'm serious, Eddie..! ..How much did it cost you?"

"That's for me to know and for you to dot dot dot," He says, pulling up to the parking lot of the school.

"I don't know what to say.. it's perfect- I feel bad that I didn't get you something too.."

"Being here with you is enough."

You look at him flatly, "Quit being so cheesy. I'm getting you something too, okay? I feel bad just taking this without giving you something in return."

He sighs and takes the keys out of the ignition, "Finee.. But only because I know you won't li-" He's cut off by the abrupt hug you lean over to give him but hugs you back once he registers it. "-sten.." His cheeks heat up and he's praying to anything and everything holy that they aren't tinted with red. It wasn't the first time you hugged him like this but that didn't make it any less nerve-wracking for him.

Getting hugs or kind words from girls wasn't exactly a casual experience for him.

He hugs you back and smiles at you when you pull back and admire the two gifts. "I was there.. when everything went down."

Your eyes widened slightly in surprise, "When Janie..?"

"Yeah," he nods, staring intently at the wheel. "Like the coward that I am.. I didn't do anything. I didn't even do anything afterwords— Hell, the least I could've done was come up to you and-"

"Eddie, It's fine." you sigh. It's the truth at the end of the day. You weren't expecting anyone to come and save you anyway.

"It's not," he sighs, "I should've done something."

"Maybe," you turn and look at him, gazing into his brown eyes. "But there's nothing we can do about it now.. and this is enough for me. That's all that matters, right?"

"Yes.. but you matter more than that to me- You deserved for someone to stand up for you; Even if it was just a guy like me." His ears are hot and he feels like for once, he's not running away from what he really wants to say to you. His timing and his set up weren't exactly the mark of a ladies' man, but it was so painfully him that you didn't even realize it.

In the passenger seat, you're holding the box close to you while looking at the young man beside you. Your heart thumped in your chest and you couldn't for the love of everything sacred understand why this moment felt so damn.. intimate. When you lie to yourself about the small details of your reality, big moments like this become confusing.

Because you shouldn't feel so nervous about your supposed friend speaking to you in his van if he was just a friend like you tried to tell yourself he was.

"Th-Then, I'll count on you next time." you smile awkwardly, "C'mon, we should probably go inside-.." Your words are curt so as to not focus too much on the tension that's risen, but when you move to open the door, you feel warm, ring-clad fingers circle the skin of your wrist.

"Wait-!" He takes a moment to clear his throat, "Sorry, I mean- Wait. I just, There's something I want to- something I need to tell you. It'll just take a second and then, ..we can go in — if you still want to afterwards."

Eddie sees the confusion on your features and he's wondering if he should just come out with it, or keep torturing himself by keeping it to himself. It could ruin the friendship the two of you have; Could ruin everything the two of you have built. Even so, he decides he needs to know if the two of you really were just friends or if there was something more to the way you looked at him when you thought he wasn't aware.

Just like him, you weren't the best at being secretive about how you really felt.

It always came out through your actions.

"What- um, What is it?" The hairs on your arm were standing on their ends, you had an feeling you knew what was going to come out of his mouth next.

"It's probably just me," He begins, "But I want to know if.." Eddie sighs nervously before finally looking over at you, "If you have feelings for me?"

You blink once.

Twice.

By the third time, you're wondering if you're even still here in this reality because there's no way he's been able to catch on. Without thinking, you blurt out, "Did Dustin tell you something?"

Now it's his turn to be confused. "Dustin? What does Henderson have to do with any of this?"

"Nothing!" You laugh nervously, "But um, what makes you think that- ..that I have feelings for you?"

It's not an immediate 'no', but it isn't a definitive 'yes' to his question either, so he continues on. "I'm just asking.. 'cause I'm pretty sure I have them for you."

Blood rushes to your face. "Oh. ..Oh."

"Yeah, 'Oh'." He lets out a nervous laugh. "So..Do you..?"

You lean back in your seat and look out of the window in front of you. "I think so," you whisper. "I've never had feelings for someone before, like this. I don't know if this is how you're supposed to 'confess', but I guess, since you're talking about it.. Yeah. I do."

It's weird for the both of you to say the least. Eddie's never had anything serious with a girl so to hear you so unsure of your own feelings, but willing to speak to him about them is new. It's strange because love and romance is always shown to be this amazing firework of emotions between two people; A sort of unstoppable force that overcomes obstacles — but while he's here with you, it's.. calm.

It's comforting, it's warm — something he wants to protect.

"So.. what now?" you ask him.

Frankly, he doesn't know. This is the first time anyone's ever admitted to having feelings for him. Yet even then, his next words come out easy.

"Let's see where the night takes us, n' we can decide all the complicated stuff later." That bright, playful smile is on his face again and for some reason, it makes you feel safe.

Eddie was always like that. He was fun in all the ways that mattered and sincere when you needed him to be. Even after confessing to him, he handled it like it was something normal in a way that made you feel sure that you made the right choice in telling him. Relationships were a land undiscovered by the two of you, but if it was this easy to tell him how you felt, you were sure that a real relationship between the two of you wouldn't prove too difficult.

He opened the door for you, holding your hand as you stepped out and not letting go while the two of you walked together towards the dance. There was an electricity between the two of you, like two atoms drawn to each other, and everyone could see it. It drew the attention of every normie in the room but the both of you could care less because what you had with him was something only understood between the two of you.

That night, the two of you got into trouble with the popular teenagers, a feat that proved to be exceptionally easy when none of their insults landed and instead were pissed off by the shared indifference and wittiness between the two of you. One thing led to another and soon enough, the two of you fled from the gym before any of the chaperones could grab hold of the two of you.

Like partners in crime, you escaped in Eddie's van signing along to Judas Priest without a care in the world.

They say that the years spent in high school should be a teenager's best years in life.

Key word: Should be.

But in reality, the years spent in high school were what you made it. Being yourself would always have consequences in a system that demanded conformity. The funny thing about high school was that it brought people together as well. In that God-forsaken place, you met some of the best people; In that place, you met Eddie Munson. High school wasn't easy, especially not as a person of color in a school where the majority of students were white like at Hawkins High and definitively not when you were also a goth.

However, it was to be expected.

You wouldn't water yourself down in order to be liked by others, not now and not ever. So every time you were seen with Eddie at school, every time you dared to step foot outside in the blackest eyeshadow and your second hand, ripped up clothes, every time you talked back to the imprudent, pretentious rich kids — it was practice for the real world.

High School was the first system you'd successfully defeated.

And it wasn't all thanks to a young man like Eddie like romance would like to have you believe.

It was thanks to your personal resilience.

Because while it comforted you to know that Eddie saw you past the color of your skin and non-white features, Eddie was a compliment to you, not a completion of who you were.

And frankly?

You wouldn't have it any other way.