December 1986
"When, and I'm dead serious, when did they grow up so much?"
Robin's question was followed with a few sighs; both dramatic and bittersweet. The one that escaped Andy was bittersweet, as she watched the choir of teens stand in formation. El, Dustin, and Erica were in the middle row, and the very reason the rest of the gang had gathered on the bleachers of the gym of Hawkins High - not a place most of them thought they'd be back at. They had to, though. It was the Christmas event, half the town was there, and the kids insisted that they wanted them there; El more than others, as this was her first official performance with the Hawkins student choir.
Andy, and likely most of her current companions, too, could think of at least 20 other places they would rather be than amongst fellow Hawkins residents, in the halls they used to consider their second home, listening to Christmas carols sung off-key. At times, sacrifices needed to be made, and that day was simply one of those days.
"I can't believe you were willingly in a band," Steve whispered to Robin, loud enough for Andy to overhear them without even trying. "Your social life is lucky I came along."
"Oh, I beg to differ," replied Robin immediately. "I sometimes wonder if you are worth the price I pay for spending time with you. Most of the time, you're alright, I guess."
"Can the two of you zip it?" Andy interrupted before Steve could answer. "If we're already here, we might as well pay attention."
Whatever Steve mumbled under his breath, Andy couldn't understand and she was happy about it. There was a time and place for bickering, and the middle of a Christmas show wasn't it. The kids have invited them for a reason, and while Dustin and El were much more invested in it than Erica was, all three extended invitations. Andy wanted them to do right by the kids, as uncomfortable as she felt.
And she did feel slightly uncomfortable. She could see a lot of her former classmates who were home for Christmas; a lot of people she didn't want to make eye contact with, much less have a conversation with. The festive joy surrounding her served as a stark reminder that her family wasn't coming home for Christmas; in fact, Steve will be going to visit them, and Andy will be alone. For the second time in a row, she will spend Christmas alone.
And Eddie was standing right next to her. She didn't hide her surprise when she saw him, as the school was the last place she'd imagined him returning to. He explained it to both her and Robin, saying he was doing it for Dustin. He and Andy didn't stand next to each other on purpose, at least Andy didn't think they did, but it was the first time she was that close to him since the infamous drive. She hadn't seen him since the day she was decorating the town square tree with the girls, but it's only been a handful of days; nothing worth losing sleep over. For all intents and purposes, they were alright, or as alright as they could be.
"You doing okay?" she checks in on him, all too aware of this not being his favorite place.
"Not gonna lie, had better days," Eddie admitted, leaning a bit towards her as he kept his voice low. "No matter what I do, I feel like someone's staring at me all the time."
"Someone probably is," Andy reluctantly told him, figuring that honesty was the best way to go. "Let them watch, who gives a shit? You're here for a reason, they're here to be seen."
"Good point," Eddie agrees. "You always seem to have plenty of those up your sleeve."
Andy couldn't tell if he was simply stating what he thought was true, or if he was subtly mocking her. As far as she was aware, there was no reason for him to be angry at her, but that has been their longest conversation since the night. For all Andy knew, his mindset might have been completely different from hers. But even if that was so, bitterness seemed to be too much. She figured it was one of those instances when his words could easily be interpreted as insults, when that wasn't his intention. She hoped that was the case.
"Yeah, well, I don't know if it'll make you feel any better, but I'm pretty sure Jared's eyes are burning into my head," Andy mumbled under her breath, making sure that only Eddie could hear her. The last thing she wanted was for her ex to sneak up on her. It was bad enough that he was around. "Feels like he's breathing down my neck even though he is several rows behind me."
"At least he doesn't think you're a serial killer," Eddie replied.
"Wow, okay, forget I even said anything," Andy answered, annoyed. She regretted it immediately, as she didn't want to add fuel to fire, but it was stronger than her. Eddie was pissier than usual and it definitely was directed at her. Almost as if she was the one to reject him, and not the other way around.
"Sorry, I didn't mean anything bad by that," Eddie realized that he fucked up but when Andy turned to give him a look, she noticed a mask of indifference on his face. He just didn't care. "I'm always on edge when I'm around… certain people."
"You think I hadn't noticed?"
Andy was being pissy, too, and she didn't care either.
"Will you two stop it?" Max snapped at them but kept her tone hushed, glaring at them from the row below. "If you want to bicker, get a room."
"God, what is everyone's problem?!" Lucas sighed dramatically but he too was as quiet as possible. "Why is everyone so angry? Are y'all okay?"
"Fine, fine, shutting up," Andy announced, surrendering first. She noticed Steve leaning forward, trying to catch her eye, but she made it a point to look at none of them, not even her brother. They'd already attracted more than enough attention to themselves, and Andy knew for a fact that no one in their group wanted said attention. Truly, it was bad enough as it was. With Max, the sole survivor, and Eddie, the suspected killer, they will always be attention magnets, and they don't need to have public arguments to make it worse.
Andy did her best to shut off her thoughts and focus on the choir and their performance. It wasn't easy, as she wasn't quite ready to get into the Christmas spirit mood. She had repeatedly reassured Steve that yes, it was okay for him to go to Chicago and that no, she didn't want to join him. In theory, all of it was true, but the closer it got to Christmas, the more she realized that it might just be one day of the year when she wouldn't mind the company.
Not enough to change her mind, though. Steve was either incredibly brave or ridiculously stupid for wanting to spend the holiday with their parents. What he expected, she didn't know and didn't bother asking, but she had a suspicion that whatever it ends up being, the day won't be as enjoyable as Steve might hope that it is.
It also didn't help that her spending Christmas alone had become common knowledge among her friend group. Robin knew because she was aware that Steve was leaving, and she mentioned it in front of Nancy, who likely shared that info with Jonathan, and it all ended up with Andy being invited to spend Christmas in the Hopper-Byers household. She politely refused, reassuring Joyce and El that she was very thankful for the invite but that she will appreciate the quiet of her own place.
They weren't the only ones extending invites, either; Robin insisted, Nancy mentioned in passing that her mom wouldn't mind serving one more plate of food, and even Max said that her mom would be okay with Andy stopping by. And now, it even managed to get to Lucas, who insisted that he and Erica would love to have her over.
"I can't thank you enough," she told him as they were making their way out of the gym, along with the rest of the group; none of them particularly wanted to mingle about and socialize with Hawkins citizens. "But I don't want to impose. Besides," she continued quickly, noticing that Lucas was going to object. "I will be helping out most of the day at the shelter, anyways. I won't even have a chance to be alone, I likely won't even be home before your bedtime."
"Hey!" Lucas laughed at her jab. "Erica has one, I don't."
"Sure you don't," Andy laughed; she may not know Mrs. Sinclair as well as she knew Joyce or Mrs. Wheeler, but she knew his mom sure as hell wasn't letting Lucas do whatever he wanted. She fished out her cigarettes and lit up one before continuing. "Thanks, Lucas, truly. But I'll have to sit this one out."
"Suit yourself," Lucas conceded, shrugging as he quickened his step. "The offer still stands if you change your mind," he added, before rushing to join Will and Max, who were in the middle of laughing at something Andy couldn't hear.
She fell back, watching them walk in front of her. It was remarkable to Andy how different the sight seemed from the one earlier that year. For one, they were all together. And unlike then, they were… happy? She wasn't sure if happy was the right word. It came and went, happiness. It was there then but perhaps it wouldn't be there the next day, and Andy knew that. But there was… an inkling of hope. Joy on their faces as they led as normal of a life as possible, given everything. Not for the first time, Andy felt like she was on the outside, looking in. Almost as if she missed the train that they all managed to hop onto.
It was alright, she knew that. Her complaints and issues were normal, and it would have been ridiculous to think that living without any was normal. All things considered, given what her life was like the past few years, Andy didn't have much to complain about. Yet she looked at them, some who have even suffered more than she had, and she felt envy. It was a horrible feeling, given how much she cared for each and every one of them, but it was impossible to look at a smiling Max and admire and envy her at the same time. The admiration came from love, care, and common sense. The envy came from that little part of her that Andy hoped remained dormant most days. She hated it, but also couldn't escape it.
She hadn't noticed that Eddie let the rest of the group go ahead, too, not until he was right beside her. Andy waited, finding it obvious that he had joined her for a reason; he wanted to say something, and in the way that only Eddie could, he hesitated. He opened his mouth only to close it before trying again, his reluctance being crystal clear.
"Just spit it out, dude," Andy knew that she sounded exasperated, but she was long past the point of caring. She was exasperated - of course, that's what she was going to sound like.
"I heard you and Lucas talking," he started; Andy appreciated the fact that he hadn't tried to pretend as if he wasn't struggling to say whatever it was that he wanted to say. She took a good look at him, the reluctance from just moments ago still present. Frankly, Andy wasn't too far from beginning to wonder if her presence alone is causing such emotions. It definitely wasn't the most comforting thought she'd ever had. "I realize you've said that you're okay with being alone, but I just wanted to tell you that you're welcome at my place. Wayne and I will be spending Christmas just hanging out. It's not going to be anything special or fancy, but at least you wouldn't be alone. And I know Wayne wouldn't mind your company."
It hadn't escaped Andy's notice that he didn't comment on whether or not he would mind it; considering that he was extending the invitation, she'd have to assume that she was more than welcome. But something about the invitation, and his behavior, made it seem like he was inviting her simply because it felt right to do so, and not because he wanted her there.
At the end of the day, Eddie was always a good guy, and way back when, he had a tendency of adopting socially inept or awkward kids, taking them under his wing, and making them feel welcome in an environment that was anything but welcoming. Andy couldn't help but feel that his invitation was just that; him being the nice guy he always was, helping out someone in need. The gesture was nice, but she wasn't so sure about the motivation behind it.
Looking at him then, it was all too easy for her to remember that night. He hesitated then too, and whether he was aware of it, he broke her heart. Well, chipped at it. The vast majority was still intact, but one tiny piece was missing. Going to his place, accepting his invitation, and spending Christmas with him would take one more gigantic chip, if she was to realize that he only did it cause he felt obliged to. She didn't want that. She'd never want that.
The truth of the matter was, the last thing Andy wanted to experience was another situation where she'd think something was going to happen, when she'd believe that whatever she was feeling, she wasn't feeling alone, only to be met with a brutal awakening. What happened that night, in his van, the vulnerability she allowed herself to expose and the hurt she got for it… she doesn't want to let it happen again.
"That's really nice of you, Eddie," she chose her words carefully, not wanting to appear ungrateful. The realization of her emotions was for her and her alone, and Eddie didn't have to know one single part of it. "But I'll have to say no, thank you. I will truly be busy all day and I think spending time alone will do me good."
She wanted to add that she wouldn't want to disrupt whatever dynamic he and his uncle have for holidays, but she knew he'd see that comment as an opening to try and make her change her mind. At least the Eddie from a week ago would do so. She wasn't sure if the post-almost kiss Eddie would act and feel the same. And that was another thing she didn't want to have confirmed, so long as she had any say in it.
"Yeah, well, if you change your mind, don't hesitate," he shrugged, quickening his step as he walked away from her. "You know where to find us," was his goodbye. Andy was a little stunned, and very much not sure what to think, but deep down, she knew that she had made the right decision. She needed to continue keeping her distance from him, at least when it came to spending time with him alone. Wayne would have been there, yes, but it was different if it was just one person or an entire group of people. Andy needed to stand her ground and stay on the side, for the sake of her own well-being.
She allowed herself one night to lick her wounds and get her shit together, but the truth was, she was far from finished. And having to resume in the hopes of pretending as if not much had changed was doing more bad than good.
It didn't feel right, watching Eddie walk away. She hated the sight of it, of him with his back turned to her, both physically and metaphorically. A part of her wanted to take everything back, to somehow turn back time and not allow for that one moment to ruin everything, but she knew, deep down, that one way or another, they must have been bound to get to the point which they were at then. It might not have happened the way it did, or when it did, but the sad reality was that they were doomed from the start. Andy just had to accept it.
It was around 8 PM when Andy was free to go home. If she wasn't as tired as she was, she would have insisted on staying longer, as the shelter was open all night, that night. However, having been helping since the early morning, and standing for the better part of the day, she was truly dead tired. What normally would have been a half-hour walk was double the length, as Andy slowed down her steps, despite the cold. And it truly was cold, although with no snow. Christmas days and nights without snow always somehow felt sad to her, almost as if the universe didn't care enough to make an effort and deliver the Christmas spirit. It was sad that year, too, but she somehow found it fitting.
Earlier, in the middle of lunch service, she suddenly decided that she wouldn't be spending the night in her apartment. That was her original plan, one in which she saw no fault, but as the day progressed, and the sadness grew, she felt the urge for home. Ironic, she knew, seeing how awkward she felt between the same walls she spent her childhood in. It would be empty, dark, and cold but even like that, it was still home, and she wanted to be there.
The only reason there were any Christmas decorations around the place was that Andy forced Steve to put them up, and she helped him do it. Why, she couldn't quite understand; not even all the Christmas lights in the world would lift the spirit of the place, and originally, it was supposed to be empty on the day, but once she unlocked the door, using the key under the flowerpot, and stepped inside to find the small Christmas tree fully decorated and the lights hanging around the living room, she was glad she forced her brother to decorate.
Going through the motions, Andy changed, putting on her old sweatshirt and half-destroyed jeans; she set a fire to warm up the living room, dimmed the lights, and opened up a bottle of red that she was pretty sure her parents were saving for a special occasion. She went up to her room, looking for a decent record, and laughed to herself when she found another copy of her favorite Smiths album. It was so ridiculously on brand for her, it wasn't even funny: all alone, drinking, and listening to depressing lyrics in mostly upbeat-sounding songs. It was nearly identical to how she spent last Christmas - the only two differences were that she was in California, not home, and that she was already wasted by nightfall. Realizing that she was lagging behind and couldn't hold the candle to Andy that once was, she downed her first glass without even enjoying the taste of wine, before pouring another.
Just as she wasn't planning on spending the night at her family home, she also wasn't planning on calling her parents. But not even half an hour into her Christmas alone, she found herself dialing their number, holding up the receiver with her shoulder as she tried to stop her legs from bouncing. Andy knew that one shouldn't be that nervous to call and wish their parents a merry Christmas, but nothing about their relationship was ever normal.
"Harrington residence," Steve was the one who answered the phone, making Andy stunned for a moment. He was the last person she expected to pick up the phone, and even from that one little line, she could tell oh so easily that he was not happy.
"Hey Steve, it's me," she answered, not surprised when she was met with silence. "Merry Christmas," she mumbled, and even to her own ears, it sounded more like a question than a statement, or a wish. She never believed in twin telepathy or something of that kind, but she could easily tell that Steve regretted going to Chicago.
"Merry Christmas," he sighed after a brief silence. "You were right. Again."
"I didn't want to be," she reminded him, despite knowing it wasn't worth much. "Are they that bad?" she asked, aware that she can't directly inquire about what happened; chances are that they are right there next to him, likely even listening to his conversation.
"Even worse than I imagined," Steve answered flatly, practically confirming that he really can't speak freely. "I'll be on my way to Indiana first thing in the morning," he informed her. She's not that surprised by it, even though the original plan was for him to stay a day or two longer, at the very least. "How did your Christmas go? Are you going anywhere?"
"Nah," Andy answered, sinking back into the sofa. "I'm at our home, believe it or not. Drinking the most expensive Bordeaux I could find in the cellar. Pondering about all the mistakes I've made recently and wondering what I could have done differently."
"That doesn't sound like fun," Steve joked, but it was clear in his voice that he wasn't mocking her; when he does mock her, it's direct and shameless. "Wish I was there."
"Yeah, me too," she admitted. The way Steve was speaking told her that he was still picking his words carefully; Andy knew that he doesn't just wish he was there, she knows that he would do just about anything to not be with the two of them anymore and get piss drunk with the only member of his immediate family that he doesn't hate. Andy could relate to that entirely too much. "You'll be home soon enough, and we'll forget all about them, okay?"
"We can try," he chuckled. "I don't think I say this enough but I'm really glad we are the way we are, you know? I mean, you're annoying and all, but you are a pretty good sister."
"I couldn't be as annoying as you are even if I tried," Andy laughed at her brother, blinking away the tears that were slowly filling up her eyes. "Drive back as soon as you wake up and drive safely. Hang up before they ask to speak to me, okay?"
"Okay," Steve agreed. "Merry Christmas, sis."
"You too, Steve. Love you."
"Love you, too."
They don't say it often; hell, they almost don't say it at all. It was moments like that one, when they were both sad and very much apart, that reminded them just how much they needed one another. Andy always knew that as lacking as they were, their parents were able to provide them with a life they had to be grateful for, opportunities others couldn't even dream of. But the thing that Andy was grateful for the most was her brother. She wasn't alone when she came into this world, and even though she was, technically, alone that night, on the one holiday that is meant to be spent with family, she knew that with Steve around, she would never really be alone.
Did she cry? She did, and she wouldn't admit it to anyone. But she did. She cried.
The knock on the front door came around eleven, startling her. Knowing that the fire was clearly visible through the window, she couldn't pretend like no one was home, even though she desperately wanted to. Especially when she peeked through the window, only to see the outline of a tall, long-haired man.
"Eddie, what the heck?"
As far as greetings go, it wasn't the nicest, but it was the best she could do in the state of disbelief he had left her in. It was really him, standing on her porch, bouncing from leg to leg as the nerves got the best of him. If there were any emotions to be found on his face, Andy couldn't name a single one.
"Sorry, I know it's late," he grimaced, continuing to talk so fast, Andy could barely catch his words. "I went to your place first and realized you weren't there, so I went to the shelter, and then they told me you went home, and by the time I figured out that home wasn't your apartment but your family home, it was already late."
"It's… it's okay, but what are you doing here?" she asked, completely baffled by the extent he went to in order to track her whereabouts.
He was still bouncing from leg to leg, sighing as he closed his eyes and tried to, Andy assumed, gather his thoughts. "I just didn't want you to spend Christmas alone. You didn't want to join us, and Wayne went home anyways, so I figured I'd find you."
"Spending Christmas alone isn't as bad as it sounds," Andy lied, not wanting to show him how desperate she was for the company. The realization that he was there out of pity, and not out of anything else, didn't sit right with her. It made her understand just why he was so difficult to approach in the beginning. He didn't want someone to keep him company out of pity, and once she was in his shoes, she could finally understand him.
"Maybe not," Eddie chuckled, every bit as nervous as the moment she first opened the door. "But if you were in my place and knew that I was going to be alone on Christmas, can you honestly say that you wouldn't be knocking on my door, determined to change that?"
He had her there. He was right, absolutely and completely right. Even in the ball of awkwardness they've been in recently, she would have absolutely ignored it and reached out to him. Just as he was doing now.
"Eddie…" she wasn't sure what to say, or what she wanted to say even. There was no part of her that was expecting to see him that day, much less that late at night, on her doorstep. "I'm touched that you worried this much. It means a lot to know that you are a good friend."
"Yeah, well, it's all I can be," he interrupted with a burst of awkward laughter.
"You didn't have to come here," she continued, not wanting to read into his words. She was always the one who dug deeper, and Eddie was the one to take everything at face value. If she wanted to understand him, she needed to think like him. He hadn't meant anything more than what he said. "I feel bad that you are spending the last of Christmas like this, I was honestly doing fine."
Eddie was no longer bouncing about. He was frozen in place, looking at her with a deadly serious expression, one that she hasn't since that spring.
"Someone very smart told me once that we overuse the word fine, and don't often mean it."
Her heart skipped a beat right then. Andy knew that he listened, and paid attention to her and what she was saying, but she hadn't imagined that her words stuck around in his mind for long after. Perhaps it wasn't in the way she wanted, but he cared.
"Eddie," she started, once again unsure of what she wanted to say.
"See, that person is like, super perceptive," he continued without hesitation. "I've never met anyone as persistent, unrelenting, and smart as she is."
"Not beating around the bush, are you?" she awkwardly joked, hoping that she wasn't blushing but suspecting that she was as red in the face as a tomato.
"I'm not," he confirmed, taking one step closer to her. He was now leaning on the doorframe with his right hand, and Andy found herself swallowing a lump at his sudden closeness. It wasn't as close as when they were in the van, but it was the closest they'd been since. "I've learned quite a bit from you, Andy, and one of the things I've learned is to not accept the word fine. I know you're not. And I need you to know that it's okay."
"Eddie, I-"
"I'm not finished," he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "You were there for me when no one else knew how. And while I may be blowing this out of proportion and you might be doing just fine, the thought of not spending even a little bit of our Christmas day together felt borderline wrong. And to level with you, I'm tired of beating around the bush with you."
"What do you mean?" Andy could feel panic slowly rising in her chest at her words. And then he did it again; he did it again, the same thing he did that night. For no longer than one second, his eyes were on her lips, and whether or not he realized it, he leaned toward her.
"I don't know, honestly," he admitted, laughing at himself. He looked like a ticking timebomb on the brink of exploding, borderline unhinged but there was a hint of a smile on his face, unless Andy was imagining things, and given how the conversation was going, she might as well have been. "Half the time I don't know what I mean, think, or feel. Pretty much the only thing I know right now is that I want to kiss you and if you don't want that to happen, you should stop me."
He waited for her to do something. Refuse him, push him away, slam the door in his face. Hell, he even waited for the other possibility, for her to jump into his arms, for her to kiss him, and not the other way around. He waited, but Andy was frozen in place.
The last time they froze, he pulled away, and both of them spent the night regretting everything that had happened. The last time they froze, no one dared to call it what it was. But unlike that time, Eddie had said it, named it, and made his intentions clear. And before he convinced himself that doing so was a bad idea, or before Andy could quite realize what was happening, his hands were on her cheeks and his lips on hers.
