Chapter 10: Because the Night

"Come on now try and understand

The way I feel under your command

Take my hand as the sun descends

They can't touch you now,

Can't touch you now, can't touch you now

Because the night belongs to lovers"

Friday. January 10th, 1986.

POV: Winter Reid

I cross the dirt between my front porch and Eddie Munson's trailer. My Reeboks land silently and I absentmindedly play tonight's routine over and over in my head. I find myself moving the poms in my hands to the tune of Holding Out for a Hero, getting more excited each minute to perform at the game.

I stop by Eddie's van and chuck my duffle into the floorboard, then lay my pom-poms gently across the passenger seat.

I approach the door and knock forcefully. I will not be late tonight and everything should go smoothly, but that all depends on Eddie Munson getting out here and driving me to the game.

I pause for a moment. No response.

I knock again... still nothing. I can now hear music blaring. I didn't notice it before because I was so focused on reviewing the cheer moves in my head. He's probably messing around in his room and hasn't noticed the time.

In fact, I'm pretty sure Eddie Munson exists without much care for the concept of time at all. He always wears a watch on his wrist, but he wakes up whenever he wants and moves through life at his own pace. Often I have to be the one to kick open his door just so we're not late for school. It looks like this is one of those moments.

I step through the front door, which is left unlocked, and stand inside the trailer. It's a layout exactly similar to my own, but instead of wildflowers in vases there are hats hung on the walls and beer cans are strewn across the coffee table and the kitchen counter. Any other time I wouldn't be able to resist gathering those up and putting them in the recycle bin, but we're on a schedule tonight.

"Eddie?" I call from the kitchen, rocking back and forth.

My skirt swishes softly as I move down the hall. I look down and tug on it, I'm not used to wearing something this short. I feel very feminine, watching the pleats dance and lay back down flat. I resist the urge to do a full twirl. I did enough of those alone in my room, watching how the green skirt flew up and hovered, then gracefully descended back around my thighs.

I can hear the song that drifts into the hall, muffled through his bedroom door, much more clearly now. AC/DC is playing at max volume.

"Hello?" I yell, straining to make my voice heard above the chorus. Other noises float out now, low murmurs and soft creaks.

"Eddie!" I call, my forehead almost touching the wood door. "Earth to Starman, get your ass out here!"

I hesitate and then add, "Please!"

I weigh my options carefully; it is a dangerous thing to barge into a teen boy's bedroom unannounced, but Eddie knows about tonight, right? He knows exactly how excited I've been for this. During Christmas break, I forced him outside into the cold to spot me as I practiced my back handspring.

With a huff, I kick at the bottom of the door twice with my sneaker. The music switches off suddenly and a tense silence falls. I suddenly feel exposed, as if I'm going to regret knocking on his door at all. Timidly, I reach for the knob. Before my hand wraps around the cool metal, the door yanks open and I fall face forward into a bare chest. My hand reaches out in front of my body to stop myself, my palm meeting smooth skin. A small oof of shock falls out of my mouth. I look up quickly and see a very confused Eddie. I pull my arm backwards, righting myself.

My eyes take him in slowly, and I notice two things at once.

Firstly, I peek over his shoulder and my eyes fix behind him on his bed. Crumpled sheets adjust to reveal one long, smooth leg poking out from underneath. I see a girl with dark eyeshadow and dark hair, lounging, mildly surprised, with the sheet held up to her chin.

Secondly, I notice Eddie uncomfortably shifting his hand around his waist. My eyes drift back to his, then trail down his exposed, pale abdomen. My eyes fall further, and I realize that his modesty is only provided by a small blanket held loosely around his hips. He must've wrapped it quickly around his bottom half before he pulled open the door.

On reflex, I let out a small, anxious giggle. My hand slaps over my mouth and I look up quickly.

My cheeks flush. "Oh. Oh! I am so, so sorry."

My hands wave in front of me, signaling that I didn't mean for this to happen. I don't look in his eyes; instead I move to stare at the black widow spider tattooed just below his left clavicle. I hear the girl in the bed hiss something to Eddie, and he throws a glance backwards at her. Silence follows and I slowly lift my gaze to his. Biting my lip, I plead helplessly with my eyes. He reaches one hand to the nape of his neck in an awkward motion.

I peek around his shoulder again at the girl in his bed and give a halfhearted wave. "Hi. So sorry about this!"

"Oh my god," Eddie mutters and puts his face in his hands. He looks up quickly and his face flashes with the realization that he has now taken both hands off the makeshift cover around his waist. He grabs at it hurriedly and moves it back into place.

I fix my gaze to the ceiling and take a full step backwards. I caution a glimpse back at him and see him standing there now, all at once. I try not to glance downwards at the one piece of dignity looped around his waist. It's no use and my gaze slides down his body, over the map of tattoos littered across his chest and arms. I jerk my head back up and an expression I can't quite place flickers quickly in his eyes. I uncomfortably shift my body weight from one foot to the next.

"Well..." I say with a dry chuckle. "This is a bit awkward."

Clumsily, I cross one foot over the other and join my hands behind my back, rocking slowly, trying to look innocent and cool. My gaze moves around the hallway, up the walls and across the ceiling, trying to find something else to look at, but eventually I settle back on him.

It's clearer now, he seems visibly disturbed by my presence. My apologetic expression turns to confusion, then irritation. I understand that I've walked in on an intimate moment, but... doesn't he remember why I'm here at all?

"Okay. I knocked. A lot! And I yelled your name, and I kicked the door!" I'm perplexed by his lack of reaction. "Eddie... you're supposed to drive me to the game, remember? I cannot be late. This is critical!"

I move forward to him as I yell, my fingers jab at his bare chest before I can stop myself. He seems uncomfortable with my closeness but I've already moved far past the fact that he is practically nude, there are more important things to worry about. He looks down at me, his expression is blank.

I sigh sadly and knit my eyebrows up at him, pleadingly. If there was any other option I would take it and leave him, but I have no other choice. I clasp both of my hands under my chin, now fully giving him puppy dog eyes.

I am desperate... I really can't be late tonight.

"Jesus H. Christ!" He exclaims and turns back to the girl in his room, staring wistfully at her, then back to me with a look of annoyance. I shake my arms out in a dramatic shrugging motion, which roughly translates to are you fucking kidding me?

"Eddie. I've only mentioned this to you a hundred times!" I say exasperated. He stands there and angrily runs one hair through his mane. He still offers me nothing so I throw my hands down against my skirt and say, "You know what, it's fine. Where are your keys?"

"Excuse me?" He says and starts to move towards me, but stops himself when I take another small step back and lift my hand to gesture at his still half-naked frame. Forgetting again, he looks down at himself and lets out a grunt of annoyance. "God, just - just stay there. Don't do anything." He moves backward into his room.

I turn and do a quick scan of the space. I spot the jumble of keychains immediately and pluck the van keys from their spot on the kitchen table, my sudden movements cause a few beer cans to clatter to the floor.

"Hey!" I say excitedly, jingling the keys loudly. "It's okay! I found them!" Smiling, I move towards the front door of the trailer.

"Um NO. HEY. NO. Hey-" I hear Eddie exclaim.

I'm stepping over the threshold onto the porch when I feel him push open the door behind me. I look back and see him wearing an unhappy expression. His gaze drops for the first time to take in my outfit and a quick, amused smile appears on his face.

He begins to speak, "Heyyy, you look..." He cocks his head and puffs his cheeks, unsure what word to use.

I cut him off before he can even finish that thought, I don't need to be patronized right now.

"Listen Eddie, I'm sorry, okay! I thought you would've remembered about the game, but, hey, it's fine, really. I didn't mean to like - invade your privacy or whatever so just pretend like I wasn't even here!" I smile, but it probably looks more like a grimace.

I realize my cheeks are red not only from the situation just before, but the way he's looking at me now. I stand here looking very out of character with my green skirt and sporty ponytail.

I move to leave the porch and his hand lands on my upper arm, forcing me to look back at him. His chest is still bare, but he has managed to pull on a pair of pants.

He pushes his palms together as if he's praying and pleads, "Do not touch the van okay, I- I'm sorry. I completely forgot and Patti was here and I just... we just lost track of time-"

He pauses. His eyes search my body and run over all of the white, orange, and green.

"I'm sorry I really just can't get over this." He waves one hand around with a cheeky smile on his face. "You look like Olivia Newton-John in Grease."

I had made the same observation earlier in my bedroom, but it sounds worse coming from him.

"Really!?" I screech at him. "Y'know what..." I sigh deeply, feeling defeated."It's totally fine Eddie, really, but I can't be late, okay, especially not tonight, so I'll just..." I gesture again at the van and mime driving a steering wheel with my two hands.

"Christ! NO! Okay, no, you do NOT drive. Just... ugh!" He's frustrated now, his hands make short chopping motions in the air. "Just give me two minutes to finish-"

My face morphs into one of absolute disgust.

"Oh, ew, Eddie. Ew..." I say both grossed out and disappointed.

He realizes his word choice and shakes his head, his wild curly hair whipping back and forth.

"No nope no-" He says while his hands cross to make invisible Xs in the air. "That's not what I meant-"

"I do not want to hear this!" I cut him off, then before I can stop the words from falling out of my mouth I say, "Two minutes Eddie, really? Actually, no. Don't answer that. I actually do not care, but now it's..."

I reach for the wrist that wears his watch and realize his hands are free of rings.

A dark thought crosses my mind and my imaginative brain suddenly pictures him sliding off his rings, setting them one at a time on his bedside table. They clink loudly as his fingers flex and stretch. He turns slowly toward the girl in his bed...

Oh god, I really need to get a grip on this dissociation thing.

I shake my head to clear the thought away and look at the face of the watch.

"6:10?! Eddie! I need to be at the game by exactly 6:30, okay? So you just... go, wrap it up," I say and my hands gesture madly trying to get my point across. "I am going to start the van, okay? Now go PLEASE go." I plead, pushing my hands flat into his chest and shoving him backwards into his trailer.

He responds in a vexed, over-dramatic shout, throws his hands up, and slams the door shut behind him.

I'm frozen in place for a second. I shake my head and try to center myself.

"Two minutes?" I mutter to myself. "Poor Patti."

My heart pounds in my chest. I put both hands on my forehead and let out a quick, frustrated grunt.

God this boy stresses me out.

I begin to twist my fingers together, tangling and untangling them, trying to de-fluster myself. I move toward the van and heave open the driver's side door and stick the keys in the ignition. I turn the keys and only a weak whimper sputters from the beast.

No, please, not right now.

I try once more only to hear the same sound. It's akin to a dying animal. I slam my head against the steering wheel and immediately wince with regret. I rub the sore spot in the middle of my forehead and stumble out of the van. I find a cooler left outside and drag it to the front grill. I climb on top of it so I can open the hood to peer inside.

I know how to fix this; it's about the only valuable skill my father passed on to me and Eddie's van is in frequent need of a tune up. Although Eddie is good with guitars, he has no working knowledge of an engine. I set to work, trying very hard not to let any part of the greasy undercarriage touch my crisp uniform.

About five minutes later I hear the front door to the trailer squeak open and slam shut. I don't look up because I'm laser focused on keeping the gunk, which now covers my hands, away from my vest.

Everything was going so smoothly, too smoothly. Clean uniform, pressed skirt, white shoes. Now look at this mess.

I spent far too long fussing over my mom, worrying about how tonight might bring back memories from her youth. Then, I spent too long trying to drag Eddie away from his groupie. This night is supposed to be for me.

I hear low voices from the front porch and steal a glance.

Patti is very pretty; she has a short punk hairstyle and bangs, dark eye makeup, and a naturally smirked mouth. Eddie towers over her with one arm pressed against the post behind her head. She doesn't look pleased, but I can tell he is working his charm on her. She glances past him at me, and I give her another small wave with my hand, which is now grimy and black. She furrows her eyebrows in a confused look, which causes Eddie to look over at me. I offer them both a shallow shrug, my hands pushed away from my body.

I'm finished with my mechanic work and I look around, confused at how I'm going to get the hood closed and get down off of the cooler without wiping any oil on my outfit. Using my elbows, I pathetically try to chop at the rod which holds up the hood.

After a few tries, it dislodges, causing the hood to fall quickly with a loud snap. I duck my head out of the way just in time, getting dangerously close to Marie Antionette's fate. I push lightly on the hood to make sure it's snapped shut, then my eyes slowly make their way back to the couple on the porch.

Eddie has witnessed the entire near beheading with a shit-eating grin across his face, arms folded under his armpits. Patti looks half-condescending and half-sympathetic, and she glances at him as if to say, Eddie, what is wrong with this girl?

I jump off the cooler and can hear Eddie speaking louder now on the porch.

"Listen, I want to see you again, okay? Maybe you can hang out here. I won't be gone that long, I just need to take care of this. Then... maybe... we can finish what we started?"

By "this", I assume he means me and I bristle at how dismissive he sounded as he said it. Although he towers above Patti, he ducks his head and tilts his face up at her, feigning innocence.

Patti snorts a little, reaches out to pat his cheek, and says, "Yeah. I think I'll go."

She turns from him, but Eddie protests, reaching his arm out and encircling her waist. He lowers his face into the space between her neck and shoulder, muttering something against her skin. I feel very odd watching this, but I also can't quite help it.

Patti's expression turns from annoyance into desire. She raises one hand and forms a fist in his hair, tugging hard and forcing his face to hers.

"Ow," Eddie says lightly, but his smile says he didn't mind that at all.

They lean in and begin moving against each other in a dazed, hungered passion. Patti's hands dig deep into Eddie's hair, pulling clumps tightly in her fists. Eddie has pushed her against the post, his full body weight pressing into hers. My own mouth twists into a grimaced, awkward expression. I turn one way, then the other, not sure what I should do now.

We are still on a time crunch, though. Maybe if I throw a small pebble I just might be able to hit Eddie's earlobe and snap him out of it? As I'm scanning the ground, carefully keeping my stained hands away from my uniform, I hear more mutters which eventually become full words. I risk a glance back to the porch, and while they're still totally wrapped around each other, their mouths are no longer attached.

Part of me looks at them in quiet anxiety because I'm intruding on another intimate moment, but another part of me, deeper in my gut, feels wildly jealous. I've never looked at anyone or had anyone look at me with that fire and longing. Suddenly the more bitter side of me takes hold. I already felt like an imposter earlier and now I feel like a third wheel.

All I needed was one simple ride so I can go to one stupid game, is that really too much to ask?

I march back to the driver's side, and pull on the door handle, hesitate, then smear more gunk from my hands around the handle's edges, just for good measure. I lean inside the van and take one glance back at Patti and Eddie; her face is now biting at his neck. Without a second thought I slam one palm hard down on the horn. Patti jumps, and Eddie whirls around, disturbed from his bliss by the loud noise.

"Sorry to interrupt!" I call. "Patti, you seem really lovely, but I'm on a bit of a schedule here. You see, I'm trying very hard not to be a loser this year and it is absolutely imperative that I get to this game so I can cheer my ass off and make people like me!" I yell it all at once, and far too loud, causing Mr. Wilkins, who is out in front of his camper in an open robe carrying a newspaper to look over at me.

Eddie finds my sudden outburst hilarious and bellows out a deep laugh. I shake my head to him, not entirely surprised. I'm at the end of my rope tonight and I have nothing left to lose. Patti smacks Eddie's chest, causing his laughs to die in his throat.

"What?" He says to her, rubbing where she had hit him. Patti whispers something I can't quite hear and Eddie looks back at me more sympathetically. Great, now they both pity me.

I sigh, completely devoid of any more self-respect.

"Eddie, can we please get going now? This is my future we're talking about, okay? I need to GO," I say forcefully.

Eddie snorts once more, rolls his head back, and tightens his arm around Patti.

"Yes, fine, god, we're going."

I step away from the van and slam the door shut.

On the side of the porch is a coiled hose. I struggle to turn on the faucet with my slippery hands, and crouch down to flowing water to scrub the oil off. I hear the sound of an engine and tires peeling away. I can gather that Patti has sped off in the Camaro I saw earlier. Suddenly, a pair of converse enter my field of vision next to the mouth of the hose. Slowly, I lift my gaze to see Eddie, hands on his hips, staring down at me with a pitying look. I take a deep breath and stand up straight. I stare back into his eyes, tilt my chin up and suck in a deep breath, trying to feign dignity. His face cracks into his wide, dimpled smile, a smile which at this moment I loathe.

Intensely annoyed at his amusement, I say, "Can you just hold the fucking hose for me, please?"

He holds his hands up defensively. "Well, someone is prickly."

He holds up the hose so I can rub both hands together under the water. I focus on scrubbing the gunk from my hands. After they're sufficiently clean, I snatch the hose back from him and bend it, creating a kink in the line so the water stops momentarily.

"I have half a mind to douse you right now, Eddie Munson," I bite out and begin shaking my hands dry.

"Okay, okay, I am sorry, alright? I'm a bad friend, I forgot about tonight, okay?" His hands lay one atop the other on his heart, but he still wears a shit-eating grin on his face. He doesn't look that sorry.

"I just thought you were doing this for your mom anyway," he scoffs, reaching for the hose.

I yank it away from him, offended.

"Well, come on, you don't actually care that much about this shit do you?"

To emphasize what he means by "shit", he pretends like he is holding pom-poms and half-heartedly shakes them. My offense deepens.

"Look, I just mean, you and me, we're the freaks, right?"

Those words hit hard and my eyebrows knit in a sad, wounded look.

Seeing the hurt on my face, Eddie quickly says, "Listen, I'm proud of you for putting yourself out there and I'm happy that you're happy. I just didn't realize it was such a big deal." He shrugs his arms out widely, then lets them fall and slap against his legs. He smiles down at me, as if what he just said wasn't rude at all.

Eddie Munson can be rough around the edges, but deep underneath the exterior is an absolute heart of gold, so I really shouldn't take his words to heart.

However, after everything tonight, I do take them to heart. All evening I've had to push myself to even get dressed and get out of the door. I watched my poor mom stare at me like I was the ghost of her lost youth personified and then stood self-consciously in the hallway when Eddie yanked his door open half-naked. I mean I stood here and watched him canoodle someone on his porch like the inexperienced flower I am.

And then he has the nerve to saunter over and speak down to me?

I get his whole attitude that nothing matters and you make yourself an outcast before someone can do it for you, but for the first time in my life I'm actually choosing to do something; isn't that what he's always saying, do what you want? Just because what I want is different doesn't make it less important.

Any other day, I could let his comments go, but, right now all of my emotions are jumbled and have turned into just one... rage.

I raise my head, nostrils flaring, my eyes flickering with fire. His own eyes widen, and his smile shrinks.

"Woah, hey, are you okay?" He lifts one hand as if to comfortingly set it on my shoulder.

Without thinking, I unkink the hose under his chin and a spray of water shoots out forcefully, right into his face. The water goes up his nose and pours down his chest. He sputters backwards, and shakes his hair like a dog. Dripping, he slowly raises his head, using one hand to peel wet strands of hair off of his face. A look of pure shock and fear mixes like watercolor on his drenched face.

I turn quickly and shut off the faucet. I look back at him and throw the hose at his feet.

"I fixed your van, again, by the way."

I stomp over to the van and fling myself in the passenger seat. My heart is racing and my nails dig into the skin of my upper arms. I hate feeling like this. It isn't Eddie's fault that I haven't done very much in my life so far. It's not his fault I prefer to live in the shadows. Deep down, I envy him. But I'm trying to do something different for myself, and I don't need his judgment.

Out of the corner of my eye I see him slowly approach the van, open the door, and climb into the driver's seat. He raises the hand that touched the door handle, which is covered in sticky oil, in front of his face. He turns to me but I don't look over at him. Wordlessly, he reluctantly wipes the gunk from his hand onto his jeans. He turns the keys that still hang in the ignition, and this time, the beast roars to life.

The Scorpions blast over the radio and Eddie moves to turn it down, something he never does.

"So should we talk about it-"

I swat at his hand, and crank the volume back up. "Drive please."

He mutters a small "Yes ma'am" under his breath, and I see out of the corner of my eye his mouth lifting into a proud smirk. I turn toward the window and lean my head against the cool glass as the music blares in the background.