At some point they had swapped seats, she had not adjusted the seat before their darling escape so she was scooted all the way up and could barely see the rear view windows. That was gonna be a problem, her ass was maybe an inch or two on the seat.
He had driven them to the dusty parking lot of an old trail that lead to Skull Rock. They were still pumped full of adrenaline as the cassettes ran through the van's stereo. He was enchanted as she head-banged and screamed to each song until she was panting, lipstick and eyeliner smeared across her face.
"You're super metal," he said with a sigh, parking the car in the empty lot.
"You're not too bad yourself," she replied, hoarsely, wiping her sweaty face on her shirt. It made her eye makeup somehow worse. "I haven't rocked out like that with someone in a while." He handed her a crumpled up McDonald's napkin.
"You've got some," he pointed to her cheeks,"kind of everywhere. Looking like you had a rough night." She pulled down the mirror.
"Holy shit," she said, licking the edge of the napkin and rubbing some of the smears away. "I look like Gene Simmons."
"No, no, wishes he looked as good as you do now," he teased, watching her fix it up the best she could. "So I've got a question."
"Go for it," she pushed the mirror back up and leaned against the door.
"Why quaint little Hawkins? I mean you clearly don't fit small town Indiana values. You're all rock and British stuff while we're still Bob Dylan."
She scratched her neck. "I'm well aware, especially now. Trust me it wasn't in my top ten places to visit." Again she pushed her curls back, a nervous tick, and then began playing with a lock of hair. "You can clearly see what I look like and my parents are these super uptight, super fucking important doctors up in New York City. They said I was embarrassing to have around and that they'd pay to get me out of their life so they had some old family house that they couldn't get rid of packed up my apartment and," she gave a little jazz hands, "now I'm here in Small Town, U.S.A."
"Damn," he sighed," that almost made me happy that my parents are deadbeats." He had lived with his uncle for as long as he could remember, his only memory of his father was him showing him how to hotwire but other than that Edward Munson Senior had never shown up to a graduation or a birthday party. Not even a shitty little card in the mail. He guessed it was hard to bother with your only son from prison.
"I mean, they kind of are now," she snickered, turning away and rubbing her eyes. He hesitantly placed his hand on her shoulder.
"Hey, I hope you're not upset," he squeezed her a little, "I didn't mean it like that ya know; just a bad joke." He thought of the merchandise in the back of the van. "I've got some stuff to chill out with if you're interested."
She turned to him with a sheepish grin and pretended to be smoking.
"Damn right, baby," he jumped out of the car and opened up the back of the van. A little dime bag and a roll of papers was hidden under a floorboard. She sat on the edge of the trunk as his fingers carefully rolled a joint like it was a fine and practiced art form.
She watched the focus in his expression and the way the slight breeze flowed through his wavy hair. His deep eyes and the way his brows furrowed together, he bit his lip when he was trying to keep the roll tight.
"That's beautiful," she said, her elbows on her knees and her palms holding her face. He placed it between his fingers and lit it, taking in a deep breath of the smoke. Eddie passed it to Ellie, her manicured hands slowly placing it to her lipstick stained lips.
"It's called Granddaddy Purple," she snorted, choking on the smoke."Ain't that some ironic shit?"
"I love that dude," she giggled, handing it back. "Daddy's gotta be good for something though. Just kush."
"No joke though, this shit could get a stampeding elephant to chill out," he took another hit. "We should send some to your folks." He laughed, she joined, leaning on his shoulder.
"I like those tats," she said, staring at the bats on his forearm. She pulled down her shirt and showed him the phases of the moon tattooed along her right collar bone.
"Shit, now that's cool."
"No, you're cool," she said, taking a hit with a fit of giggles. "Damn, Eddie, I needed this."
He cautiously placed an arm around her shoulders. "I think you're cool. You wanna come to the Hideout with me? Get some fries and listen to some kick ass music?" He wiggled his eyebrows and gave her a little nudge. "It's on me and I'll throw in a free ride home."
She pondered for a moment. "Hmm. I'm definitely interested. Fries sound freaking awesome." He got up and closed the van doors, she shimmed into her seat, adjusting her leather shorts that stuck to the leather seat.
"Their fries are pretty great. Also some of the drunks like to fight in the middle of our set so if you still wanna throw down it's a pretty good place for it." He said, crawling into the driver's seat. "If not, it is still hilarious to witness."
"Well you had me at fries and now there's no way I can turn down your offer. I can't miss watching a bunch of drunks going at it." He wheeled his way over to the bar. They smoked the last of the joint on the way, giggling at each other and leaving a trail of musky smelling smoke behind them.
The bar itself was rundown, half the lights didn't work and half the windows were boarded up. She wasn't completely sure the place was still being used but Eddie had seemed cool so she allowed him to lead her into the building, his guitar in his other hand as he opened the door for her.
He introduced his band mates. Gareth, who had hair that curled outwards, played the drums. Jeff, who had dark skin and wore a bright blue Black Sabbath shirt played the electric guitar. Vinnie wore a leather jacket with a Pantera pin on the lapel and played the electric bass. They wore Hellfire Club shirts.
"Guys I would've worn mine but I got busy after work," he winked at her. "The basketball captain ran out of laundry baskets apparently." He told them what had happened.
"Your knees are busted," Gareth stated, her knees were purple and the skin torn clean off. Dirt still clung in the wound.
"Shit, I'm so sorry," Eddie said, leading her to the barstool. The bartender passed him a handful of napkins and a glass of water. He had gone into the apartment upstairs to grab a bag of frozen peas.
"I appreciate this but this is already a few hours old," she spoke softly, grabbing the bag of peas. "It's really no biggie."
"You're ballsy going at Jason like that," Jeff told her.
"He was being a fuckin' bitch, dude, like I don't take that," she said wincing as Eddie poured some cold water on her knee, carefully rubbing away the dirt with a too thin napkin. "He drove me off the road and then followed me onto the other side of the road- onto the goddamn sidewalk! Then he pulled away onto the sidewalk more when I started yelling at him and trying to get his attention with my bell even though I am very fucking visible in broad daylight!"
"Wasn't it at a red light?" Eddie asked, moving to her other knee.
"Oh shit, I almost forgot and he went after me during a red light!"
"That does sound like Jason," Gareth started, " ever since Chrissy bought that pot from Eddie and, y'know went off, he's been after anyone who looks remotely weird."
"She went off?" Ellie's brows pushed together.
"Munson, y'all are next set up!" The bartender said. "If the little lady's gonna sit at the bar she needs to be buying drinks! Those are for paying customers, boys!"
"Rum and coke, please,more rum than coke though don't skimp me." She said as he passed her a basket of fries, with more than a little side eye.
She ate her fries and sipped on her drink while the Journey cover band finished up. She could see Eddie darting across the stage in the background, checking his amps and running with the other boys, restringing their instruments. He made a face at her when he ran with tape and a broken drumstick to Gareth.
That was not gonna hold. She finished up the fries and slid off the chair, taking her drink with her.
Eventually Eddie walked on stage with the boys in tow, his electric guitar hung at his side.
He introduced his band once he got up to the microphone. They played a bunch of covers and a few original songs. She danced around, head-banged, and screamed to the songs she knew. She was entranced in the moment, looking up at his sweaty face and screaming under the dull foggy lights. His hair was a halo around him as he played, the way his face moved and the passion in his voice was trapping her in this moment. She moved like a puppet on strings as he played his guitar.
Two guys in there began trying to mosh and she pulled back closer to the bar.
"Get em', Wally! You've got this! Only the 20th time this year you've lost to Davey!" Eddie shouted into the mic, earning a chuckle from the rest of the bar goers.
They were practically mud wrestling in the middle of the room, one of them grabbed a wooden chair and began bashing the side of the stage.
"This isn't good music!"
"This is music!" Eddie shouted back and jacked up the volume on the guitar as he began to cover a Venom song.
The owner, who was this brute of a man with a greying beard, piercing blue eyes and the beefiest arms she had ever seen, flung one of the men out of the bar. Everyone cheered as Davey stood on a small table, hands triumphantly at his waist.
"To Davey's 21st time winning against Wally!" Eddie lifted up a drink he had on a barstool next to him. "Man didn't even stand a chance." He threw it down and played his last song. She rested her elbows on a nearby table and just watched in a trance as he played. He made eye contact with her briefly, the reflection of light from her earring getting his attention. Her eyes were neon green under the dull pendant lights. It was electric, sending a shock through him as he finished the song.
As the crowd parted he hopped off the stage.
"So how were we?" He leaned from the opposite side of the table.
"I loved it! You make a great frontman, I couldn't keep my eyes off you!" She said, blush dancing on her cheeks and across her nose. He blushed and looked at her nervously.
"Well, I'm gonna help the guys wrap up our stuff and then I'll get you home. Give me fifteen minutes and I'll be right back!"
She leaned against the stage as she waited for him. It had been a long day and the tiredness of it all was finally getting to her. She closed her eyes and then heard footsteps behind her on the stage as Eddie came with his guitar slung over his shoulder in its case.
They said goodbye to the guys as they got into the van. The nighttime air woke her up a little as he rolled his window down. She led him to her house.
He was not ready for what he pulled up to.
The old mansion stared down at him, navy blue paint had chipped and vines crawled up to the top balcony. No one had thought about living here over twenty years but here was this tiny metal head chick, walking up the stairs with a set of old keys. Her albums in one hand as she fought with the old lock.
He placed her bike on the porch and brought the paint cans into the foyer for her.
"I know it's a little abysmal but I think with a new coat of paint and a bit of D.I.Y. I can make this place suck a little less." She said, rubbing a smudge of some kind off the banister.
"If you don't mind me asking how you are related to the Creels? Like they're all dead except for the dad who lost it."
"Victor's my great-uncle on my dad's side," she said, "and while my father might be a surgeon all of his patients are alive- or at the bare minimum died from shit out of his control. Probably." She shrugged. He looked around everything had been dusted, his nose burned from the smell of Pine Sol and Windex
"You have heard the rumors of all the freaky stuff that happens here?"
"Bits and pieces but at the same time I don't have anywhere else to go so I think I can suck it up for a while." She winked.
He took a deep breath and built up all the courage he had.
"Can I get your number? I would like to take you out again without the hit and run in the beginning." He said, smiling nervously. "If you're cool with that of course."
She smiled and went into the kitchen, he could hear the sound of a pen scratching on paper.
'Here's mine," she said, giving him a folded-up Post-It. He wrote his own one and gave it to her. "I look forward to seeing you again. Who knows maybe I'll need to pick up more records tomorrow?" She laughed. "I'm gonna need lots more paint too so you'll see me around."
She walked him to the front door and watched as he went to his car.
"Hey, Eddie!" He turned to her as he opened up the van door. "Thanks for saving me today." She smiled as she nervously played with a strand of hair before tucking it behind her ear.
Shit, he thought to himself, he was screwed.