I'm not a sports guy. I know the rules of baseball and football because my uncle watches them, but I don't play any, for a couple of reasons. One, I'm poor and Sports cost money. Two, I'm not what you'd call a 'team' person. Surprise, I know, but I like to do things MY way, and if I have to work with a group, I tend to take charge, regardless of who actually IS in charge.

Part of that 'Does not play well with others' embedded in my DNA right there.

So I didn't participate in sports, but I knew Fi was in Lacrosse because I'd seen her at practice a few times along with the rest of the team, and that MAY have been when I first noticed her legs.

I went to her game, hoping for a chance to talk, and maybe more because that liplock from the night before was still in my head and I needed to know if it was just a one-off, or if there could be more to it.

Please.

She spotted me and when the game was done, came over, smiling which was a GREAT sign."Fi," I murmured, and pulled her into a hug.

"Ew. I'm all sweaty!" she protested, pulling off her goggles and smirking.

"It's girl sweat, tastes good," I told her, and as a joke, I licked her forehead. Salty, but tinged with a little soap and perfume.

She pulled back and glared at me, even though I could see Fi was fighting a smile. "Seriously? That's gross. I'm not a kitten, needing to be cleaned!"

I grinned at her. "Annnnd that's an image I could get fond of, right there. You won, right?"

"We won," She assured me. "So, I do need to shower . . ."

I nodded. "I told your mom I'd bring you home."

She stared, and I gave a little embarrassed shrug. "She called to grill me about my beat-down, and wow, she does not pull punches on those questions, man. I've never had to discuss my genitals with someone's parent before!"

Yeah, THAT had been a fun phone call and I was glad Wayne hadn't been there because he would have been cracking up at my half of that conversation.

"Shit!" Fi buried her face in her hands. "Really?"

"It was . . . thorough," I snorted. "But . . . I dunno. She cares. Not really used to that."

It was true.

"She's a great nurse," Fi agreed. "One of the reasons she takes the ER rotation. Okay, give me twenty and I'll meet you out front."

Fi was back out within fifteen minutes, pink and a little damp as we loaded the Lacrosse stuff in the trunk, and I climbed in the driver's seat, feeling clumsy and dumb.

"So . . . talk to me, Fi. I'm like, waaaay out of my league here, but I don't think I'm by myself on that . . . am I?" I studied the road to avoid looking in her eyes. Nervous didn't even begin to cover it, man. I was terrified I'd start babbling and never shut up long enough to hear her.

"Yeah, you're not. I just . . . I don't know what going on here, and it's not like anything I've done before," she sighed. "But it's crazy good, too, and I like it. I like YOU."

My shoulders relaxed at that, and I grinned at her. "Same. I was worried I was just . . . a charity case."

"WHAT? Oh hell no!" Fi snapped. "Eddie! How could you even think that?"

Time to get real. I wasn't going to make my life into sunshine and daisies here. Fi had to know what she was getting into.

I owed her that.

"My uncle makes in a year, what Carver's dad makes in a month," I pointed out. "I live in a fuckin' trailer, Fi. I spend every summer loading appliances at Bradley's Big Buy, and if I don't graduate this year, I'll be locked into that Godforsaken gig forever. If that's not enough to make you scream and run, it oughta be."

The truth, ugly and harsh, right there between us.

"No," Fi told me in this quiet little voice. "Not screaming, not running. Not like my prospects are much better right now. If I don't get some sort of sports scholarship, I'll be either selling popcorn at the Cinema, or bagging groceries at Sav-a-Lot come summer."

I shook my head. "Nope. You've got the grades, you play Lacrosse and what? Track?"

"Cross country," She corrected me. "I run. A lot."

"Ahh those legs," I gave them a quick happy glance. "Still, I am no catch, but . . . I want this. I want this and I don't know how to . . . DO this."

"You've had girlfriends before, right?"

Oooh, should have seen that one coming.

"A few," I admitted, making a turn on Roan Road. "Nothing serious, and not for a while."

Yeah. My last 'girlfriend' was printed on glossy paper and had a staple through her stomach.

"And Chrissy?"

What? I heard a note of uncertainty in Fi's voice and realized she was . . . jealous?

"Cunningham?" I took his eyes off the road to stare at her. "Are you out of your gorgeous little mind? Let me remind you that she's dating Jason 'The Asshole King of Hawkins' Carver, who would not take kindly to any competition, let alone yours truly." I shook my head, laughing cynically. "No way."

"But you have a crush on her," she muttered, and I couldn't believe it, because the whole idea of Fi worrying that I had a thing for Chrissy was kind of hilarious.

I laughed again because I couldn't help it. "Fi . . . Chrissy and I got paired off as lab partners back in Mr. Clark's sixth class in middle school. She was nice, and yeah, I crushed on her a bit that year, but our paths have barely crossed since then, and . . . nice as she is, she's never gonna get me. Not the way you do."

I meant it. Fi did get me. She was the one person in Hawkins I could talk to without having to BE anything other than who I was. I didn't have to be a DM, or a drug dealer, or any of those other roles when I was with her.

"You sure?" she asked, and oh that little uncertainty in Fi's voice made me want to fucking KISS that doubt right out of her.

"Oh, hell yeah," I replied, my voice soft. We made it to her house, and I helped carry in the gear while Mrs. Myers hugged Fi and asked about the game. She invited me to stay, but I shook my head.

"I've got a gig at the Hideaway in a few hours," I fiddled with my rings. "Not much, but it keeps me in cigarette money."

"You should drop the smoking," Mrs. Myers chided and then sighed. "Sorry Eddie, it's not my place to nag."

"No, no, I've been cutting down," I admitted. "Speaking of ah, smoking . . ."

Mrs. Myers looked coy. "I've gained three pounds so far."

More good news. "That's fantastic!"

"It's . . . looking good," Mom admitted, and when the phone rang, she got it while Fi walked me out to my car.

We kissed again, and this time it wasn't as insane, but the intensity was still there, and I lost myself in the sweet madness that is Fi.

"Oh babe . . . gonna have to stop," I told her with extreme reluctance after a while. "Very into this, VERY, but I need to get my ass over to the Hideaway." I was still nuzzling the side of her neck and enjoying her shivers.

"I know," she admitted a little grumpily. "So. Are we . . . a thing?"

I pulled back, and brushed her hair with my fingers, smiling at her.

"Geez I hope so. I never thought you'd even notice me, despite my many efforts."

She stared at me. "You were trying to get me to notice you?"

Ouch. "Please tell me you picked up on it, and this sweet, sweet result is because you did?" I mock-begged.

Fi burst into giggles, and I couldn't resist giving her a strong hug and shaking her a little.

"Yes, yes, I noticed. Totally. Got it from day one!" Fi lied, batting her eyes at me

"Suuuure you did," I spluttered back. "Okay, the old ego just took a critical hit, but I think I'm gonna make it. Kiss for luck?"

She planted a good one on me, and worried my lower lip with her teeth, which frankly, felt fucking amazing. I let her go, giving a little growl.

"Luck reloaded," Fi told me. "Plenty more where that came from."

"Return engagement," I agreed, climbing into the Valiant and starting the engine with a rumble of exhaust.

I watched her from the rear view mirror, feeling like I could fly.