Chapter 20: Better Things
"It's really good to see you rocking out and having fun
Living like you just begun
Accept your life and what it brings
I hope tomorrow you'll find better things"
Sunday. January 12th, 1986.
POV: Winter Reid
I wake up in Helen's unnaturally soft bed. The layers of plush duvet and stacks of feathered down pillows threatened to consume me in the night, and I began to miss the familiar firmness of my bed.
Helen stirs next to me and stretches her arms above her head.
"Morning," she mumbles.
I push myself up on my elbows and immediately feel my body sinking backward. Her bed is like an incredibly pleasant pool of quicksand.
"Good morning..." I try to wiggle free from beneath the heavy duvet. "Hey, do you smell bacon?"
Helen blinks her eyes open and takes a long whiff. "That would be my mom in the kitchen."
I push myself up with more force but miscalculate the distance to the edge, and my body takes a steep fall off the mattress. I land with an oof on my back on the plush white carpet. A cascade of pillows slides off and lands on my head.
"Um, are you okay?" Helen asks, leaning her face over the side of the bed.
I raise one thumb in the air and push a pink pillow off my face.
"Take me to the food."
Helen laughs and rolls out of bed.
We descend the stairs in search of breakfast. The sunlight twinkles through the stained glass, and I follow the red and green orbs as they float along the railing.
We step through the kitchen. Yesterday it was vacant; this morning, there is a tall blonde woman with a full face of makeup and freshly manicured nails pouring pancake batter into a round pan.
This must be Helen's mother.
She's already dressed for the day and stands over the stove, wearing a string of pearls with a red gingham apron tied over a navy dress.
Her hair isn't styled for this decade. She wears it in a bouffant that stops at her shoulders and flips upwards. I know she definitely went to high school with my mom in the late 60s. I wonder if, at any point, her blonde hair hung tangled all the way to her waist, and then her hairstyle naturally changed after moving into this house. Or perhaps she's always looked like a housewife, just dressing for the part until it became her reality.
"Good morning, dear," the woman utters politely, not bothering to lift her head as we enter the kitchen.
She moves like a robot and holds a spatula away from her body, her elbow makes a perfect 90-degree angle, and her wrist barely twitches as a pancake spins through the air and lands in the pan.
"Good morning, mom," Helen mutters and steps around the woman, moving towards the gigantic refrigerator.
I look left and right, wondering where to place myself.
A platter of bacon sits in the center of the round table. Windows surround the breakfast nook, and I cautiously lift an upholstered chair, pull it out gently, and slide onto the seat. I'm afraid to make any noise. This house is immaculate, and the cyborg in the kitchen probably keeps it that way by making her family eat on newspaper and wear gloves if they need to touch anything.
Helen opens the fridge and sets out a jug of freshly squeezed orange juice. She sets two glasses on the counter, and they thud against the surface. Her mom's head snaps up for the first time at the sound. Helen slowly opens the OJ and pours it carefully. I breathe a sigh of relief from my seat when she manages not to spill a drop.
Her mom's head swivels towards me. I push my hands into my lap and straighten my spine, feeling like I'm suddenly under review. I offer her a small, tight-lipped smile.
"Helen, who is your friend?" Her mom asks, watching me with hesitation.
Helen places the pitcher back into the fridge.
"Oh, that's Winter! We're on the cheer team together. She stayed over last night. Remember I asked you if she could?"
What kind of mom doesn't even know her teenage daughter had someone stay the night? Thinking back now, the only person I saw was her brother, and no one else bothered to knock on the door to say goodnight.
"Oh!" The woman says. Her mouth pulls into a perfect smile. "So nice to meet you... Winter?"
"Yes," I squeak and glance around nervously. "Um... you have a beautiful home."
Helen's mom picks up the pan and slides a perfectly round pancake onto a tall stack. "Yes, it is lovely, isn't it?"
"When was it built?" I ask.
I really should stop talking, but something about this woman makes me crave her approval, maybe because I'm terrified of what would happen if she disapproved of me... most likely pulverization.
"1912," she responds automatically.
"Oh!" I say. "The same year the Titanic sank."
Helen scrunches her eyebrows as she walks to the table and hands me a glass of juice. I shrug my shoulders at her, my expression saying, I didn't know what else to say, your mom is scary.
Helen pulls out a chair next to mine and her mom walks over. White high heels click on the hardwood floors. She sets the stack of pancakes between us and places two ceramic dishes on placemats. Her hand dips into the pocket of her apron, and she pulls out silverware. She carefully puts a fork and knife on either side of our plates.
"Syrup?" She asks with her hands clasped neatly in front of her chest.
"Please!" I reply. "Thank you."
She nods and turns back to the kitchen; my eyes drift to Helen's, but she's nonchalantly stabbing two flapjacks and setting them on her plate.
Her mom comes back with the syrup. It isn't in a Mrs. Buttersworth bottle; instead, she's transferred it into a small porcelain pitcher painted with blue roses. I cock my head as she sets it down. What an absurdly useless thing to do just in the pursuit of aesthetics.
Rich people, man.
"Enjoy, girls." Helen's mom unties her apron and folds it over her arm. "I am going out to run a few errands."
She gives us a tight nod, turns quickly, hangs the apron on a hook in the kitchen, and strides out of the room.
I watch her retreating frame disappear through the pocket doors. She didn't even say goodbye, or I love you to Helen.
Helen seems unfazed and pours a pool of syrup over her stack of pancakes. She slowly looks over at me.
"Aren't you hungry?" She asks.
I blink at her, trying to find the words. I'm sure she knows very well how her mom walks, talks, and acts like she has a control panel where her stomach should be, but I don't want to offend her.
Helen shakes her head, uses her fork to slide three pancakes on my plate, and pours syrup over the pile.
"I know my mom is freaky," she says.
I look at her cautiously.
I'm still shocked by her mom's cold, mechanical movements. My own mom isn't exactly stable, but she at least responds to me. I often feel exhausted by her disorder and her frayed nerves, but she never lacks affection.
Helen nudges my plate, signaling for me to start eating.
"I told you she was obsessed with appearances," she shrugs. "I don't think I've ever seen her with her hair in rollers or a green face mask. She might even sleep in tea-length dresses instead of pajamas."
"No!" I quickly say, clearing my throat. "She seemed nice!"
Helen laughs, "She's a robot, Winter."
She offers me the platter of bacon, and I gingerly take two pieces.
I cut a piece of pancake and stuff it into my mouth.
"Well, it's nice that your mom makes you breakfast, at least. And dresses herself well. I mean, most days, my mom can't even find a matching pair of socks."
Helen hovers a piece of bacon near her mouth.
"Yeah, but my mom never talks to me. She acts as if she's on the gardening channel and cameras are following her every move. You should see her try to sit and watch TV. She doesn't even laugh."
"Okay." I nod. "Maybe she is a little freaky."
Helen raises her eyebrows as if to say no shit and nibbles on the bacon.
"Where's your dad?"
My knife and fork stop moving across the pancake as I glance around the house. It's just as quiet and empty as when we came in yesterday.
"Um... probably in his office?" Helen guesses. "Or maybe he went into the city?"
She shrugs and takes a small sip of orange juice.
"The city as in... Indianapolis?" I ask.
Helen nods.
"Yeah, he works at some government building during the week and most weekends too. He doesn't talk about his work that much because, apparently, it's so complex that none of us could possibly understand it."
"Oh..." I say and look down at my food.
Helen's home suddenly looks different to me this morning. I'm still stunned by its grandeur and beauty, but it's as cold and empty as a dark cave. At least when I return home from school to an empty trailer, I can run across to Eddie's and sit in his room while he practices guitar. Helen must return here every day, walk up the creaky stairs, and sit in her dollhouse... all alone.
Helen's fork scrapes across the plate. I look through the windows next to the table. I can see the home's expansive backyard and a small corner of the deck beside the large pool.
"So... why have you not had a giant party here yet?" I ask.
Helen's mouth freezes mid-bite. She narrows her eyes.
I shrug my shoulders and use my fork to gesture outside the windows.
"What? You have a huge pool. Plus, big house with no parental supervision and plenty of chandeliers to swing from. It's perfect!"
She swallows.
"Well, my brother is a snitch. And this house is full of fragile contents. And my mom would kill me."
"Fair points," I agree. "But it would be just like a John Hughes movie! One wild party for the entire school to remember us by. You could invite all of the cheerleaders and the jocks. I'd bring the Hellfire Club and the burnouts. It'll be like Ellis Island; everyone is welcome! Chess club, the school newspaper, band geeks."
I sip my drink, and Helen looks at me perplexed.
"We'd have to bubble wrap and childproof 80% of my house, Winter."
"It would be glorious!" I remark, propping my elbow on the table.
"No." She shakes her head. "Absolutely not."
I let out a deep sigh. "Well... there goes our legacy."
She laughs. "What about your house?"
"What?" My arm slips off of the table and falls to my lap.
"Why don't you host the John Hughes party at your house? Oooh, let's have our next sleepover there! I'm interested to see how this-" She waves her hand at my head. "-translates into a physical room. A bedroom says a lot about a person, and I imagine yours is... interesting."
"My room is totally normal. There's nothing weird to see there," I scoff.
I picture the Star Wars action figures on my shelf and my rock collection. My finger drags along the border of the placemat.
"Besides, we can't have a party at my place because the maximum occupancy is like three and a half people."
"A half?" Helen asks.
"Yeah, like a baby or a lap dog," I shrug. " Also, we can't have a sleepover there."
Helen takes a small bite of her food.
"Oh, why not? Is your mom really strict?"
I snort. "No, not really. But my house is small. Like, really small."
Helen shrugs her shoulders at me, not understanding why it's such a big deal.
"Your bedroom is the size of my entire house," I narrow my eyes and lean forward to emphasize my point.
Helen laughs.
"You're being dramatic."
I stab a piece of pancake with my fork.
"I'm really not."
"Well, I don't care how big your house is," Helen says, drizzling more syrup over her breakfast.
I lean back in my chair, and the antique wood creaks beneath me.
"Okay, well, it's also not in a great part of town," I continue. "Nothing is within walking distance of my place beside the woods and the abandoned lab."
Helen shrugs again. "So?"
She takes another bite of her food.
My fork dings as it falls against the plate.
"Eddie Munson lives across the street from me," I say firmly. "Except, it's not exactly a street. It's just dirt."
Helen blinks at me, confused.
"I live in the trailer park," I finally admit.
I point my chin down to my plate and drag my fork through the sticky pool of syrup, watching it separate and then glue back together.
"Hawkins has a trailer park?" Helen asks. Her voice is even and nonjudgmental.
I look up at her and tilt my head.
"Um… yes."
"Oh. I've never been there before," she shrugs and shoves another bite into her mouth.
"Um... okay."
This wasn't the reaction I was expecting.
She looks over at me slowly.
"What?" Her eyebrows raise. "Oh, were you expecting me to freak out?"
I shrug my shoulders, unsure of what I was expecting. Five minutes ago, it seemed terrifying to think anyone would know where I lived. I was ashamed, but now that feels silly.
"I guess... I mean... it's really shitty," I say. "We don't have white picket fences or rose bushes. My mom and I decorated our place the best we could, and I mean, I hated it when we first moved here, but I don't mind it so much anymore. But, I would never want you to have to go there... especially when you're used to this."
I look at the ornate ceiling and then back down at Helen's state-of-the-art kitchen.
"Why would you think I would care about that?" Helen sits back in the chair and looks slightly offended.
"I don't think that you would care. I just..." I struggle to find the words. "I've always felt... different. And people who are different don't seem to fare well in Hawkins. And so I guess I've always just kept my distance from people..."
Helen leans over and touches my elbow.
"It's okay. It's better to be different anyways, right? At the very least..." She shrugs. "...it makes you more interesting."
I smile at her, and she returns it.
I lean over quickly and pull her into a tight hug. She squeaks with surprise and softly taps her hands on my shoulder blades.
"Sorry..." I mutter into her hair. "I should've warned you that I'm an emotional hugger."
I release her and sit back in my seat. Helen is smiling widely and looking down at her plate.
"Does this year feel different to you?" I ask her.
"What do you mean?"
"It's just... there was something Eddie said to me the other day. He said he felt like things were changing. I had hoped that I would agree with him and feel things were changing for the better, and in some ways they are, but I also feel..." I hesitate. "I feel like something else is going to happen. Like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop."
I glance at Helen. She slowly exhales, and her cheeks puff up with air. Eddie makes that face a lot when he's carefully considering something.
Finally, she looks at me firmly.
"I think that you think too much." She points to my plate. "Eat your pancakes."
I continue to be surprised by Helen. She's not exactly what I pegged her for when we first met. Sure, she's excitable and a little naive, but even more, she's honest and steadfast. She's a resilient person, which I have always thought is the best thing you can be. When life throws shit at you, you have to wipe it off and keep going. If this year is going to bring something scary and new, I'm glad to have her on my side.
I push my fork down into the stack of flapjacks on my plate and sigh. I feel lighter now like some troubles have melted off of my shoulders.
After cleaning up our plates and gathering my stuff from her bedroom, Helen and I walk outside to her front porch. I notice that she's holding a bundle of keys in her hand.
"What are you doing with those?"
I point at her hand, and a globe keychain dangles between her fingers.
Helen jogs over to a shiny BMW.
"I'm driving you home," she declares. "How else were you planning to get back? The bus?"
I tilt my head.
"Well, yeah, that's what I was thinking. Also, I thought you didn't have a license."
"I have a permit! I've had it for five months, and ten days, so I'm really close to getting an actual license," she says proudly.
I jump off of the porch.
"Yeah, I'll stick with the bus."
"No!" Helen protests. "I'm a good driver, okay? My dad gave me lessons in the parking lot where Starcourt Mall used to be! I've almost got a handle on parallel parking, but checking the mirrors kind of confuses me..."
I shake my head at her.
She puts her hands on her hips.
"I'll drive slow," she says.
"Ugh, fine."
I throw my head back and drag my feet over to her dad's BMW.
Helen adjusts the mirror and pushes the seat until her chest almost touches the steering wheel. I clutch my backpack to my lap, and my nails dig into the leather seat as she backs down the long driveway.
The car bumps into the trashcan near the curb. It tips over, and the lid pops open, spilling its contents onto the street.
"Oops," Helen smiles at me. "I'll clean that up when I get home."
I shake my head and look out the passenger-side window.
"Woah!" I yell.
Helen jumps and pushes both feet down on the brake, causing the car to halt aggressively on the road.
"Please don't yell like that when I'm trying to focus!" She shrieks.
I don't look over at her; instead, I push my nose against the glass.
"Is that the Creel house?" I ask.
I roll down the window and stick my head out.
A few hundred feet past Helen's house and across the road, a massive dilapidated home sits at the end of the street. Its windows and doors are boarded up, and overgrown brush and ivy crowd the exterior. The lawn is dead, and the tree on the lot hangs its decaying branches like the fingers of a gulps next to me, shifts the car into drive, and peels away. I pull my head back inside and see her gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles.
"That place gives me the creeps," she whispers, never taking her eyes off the road in front of us.
"Is it true what they say?" I sit up excitedly and lean over to her. "About what happened there?"
She glances at me quickly and looks ahead through the windshield.
"I don't know," she stammers. "But, if any place in my neighborhood has ghosts... it's that house. Sometimes..." She hesitates. I lean forward in anticipation. "Sometimes I think it's alive."
"Alive?" I ask.
"Yeah, the porch light will flicker when I'm out walking our dog, and then I get this chill, like a cold mist settling across the back of my neck." She shakes her head. "It's probably just paranoia."
"Or something much more sinister..." I whisper in a spooky voice.
Helen looks over quickly, and I can see her face isn't amused. I sink back into the passenger seat.
"Sorry."
We pass the video store in silence. I direct Helen past downtown toward my trailer park, the lopsided wooden sign appears, and Helen slows to pull down the dirt hill.
"This is me... first one on the left."
My mom's station wagon is outside our trailer, and Eddie's van is parked in its usual spot. When I get home, I always look for these two things; I just feel better knowing where my people are.
Helen parks the car and looks through the windshield at my front porch with its sunflower welcome flag and hanging potted plants. She smiles at me.
I roll my eyes. "I know, it's breathtaking, right?"
She tuts at me disappointedly.
"It's a house, Winter. It's... charming."
I tilt my head and laugh a little.
"Sure, whatever you say."
A beat of silence passes between us. I reach for the passenger door handle, but Helen's sudden voice stops me.
"It's true," Helen blurts out.
I look at her, puzzled. "What's true?"
"About the Creel house. What happened there? It's all true."
"Oh." I sit back in my seat. "So you live across the street from it? I didn't even notice."
I really hadn't noticed it yesterday, but, honestly, Helen's mansion took up my entire sight, so it's no wonder I didn't see the haunted house at the end of the street.
Helen nervously plays with the globe keychain that dangles from the keys still in the ignition.
"My dad was able to haggle the price of our house because we have a direct view of that... monstrosity." She releases a shaky exhale. "He said having to look at it every day would emotionally scar his children, but then the price of our place dropped by ten grand, and my parents snatched it up."
I nod and listen as she speaks.
"When we first moved in, I had nightmares about the house moving while I was sleeping." She shrugs her shoulders. "I imagined it would expand and shrink, inching closer to us across the road."
"Creepy," I reply.
She clamps her mouth shut, but I sense there's something else she wants to say. She glances at me, and I offer her a small smile. She looks back to the bundle of keys, and her voice falters as she begins to tell a story.
"One Halloween night... when I was 7... some neighborhood boys were teasing me—calling me a scaredy cat, a chicken. They wouldn't let me tag along with them while they went trick or treating. I told them I was big enough and wouldn't get scared and run home. One of them, a kid named Robbie Wilkes, told me to prove it." She glances at me and shakes her head. "He dared me to go to the Creel house and knock on the front door. He said if I could do that, they would take me to the homes that gave out the big candy bars. I had heard the story before on the playground at school, about the dad who went insane... what he did to their eyes."
Helen shudders. I picture the scene. A small girl with bushy brown hair, probably dressed as a princess or an astronaut, clutches a plastic pumpkin full of candy and strolls towards the Creel house on Halloween night.
That Robbie Wilkes sounds like a budding psychopath.
Helen stares at the miniature continents on the keychain.
"I didn't want them to call me names anymore... so I did it." Her voice lowers as she presses forward into the memory. "I forced myself to go across the lawn and up the front steps. I didn't even hear the boys walking behind me. I was just trying to move as fast as possible."
I lean toward her as she continues her story.
Helen releases a deep sigh.
"I went to the front door... and I knocked. Nothing happened at first... I turned to run away, but Robbie Wilkes was standing there on the porch behind me. He grabbed the back of my costume in his fist. I tried to hit his arm and push him away, but he shoved me closer to the front door. There's this rose, a stained glass rose, and I stared at that and tried to wiggle away from Robbie. But, he turned the knob, and the door swung open."
Helen's eyes water at the memory.
She begins to whisper, "The house breathed. It expanded. And then he pushed me inside. And slammed the door shut behind me."
"Oh my god," I say.
That little bastard.
Her words tumble out faster.
"I don't remember how long I was inside... I tried to open the door, but it was locked. It wouldn't budge even though it opened so easily when Robbie turned the knob. So I just crouched on the floor with my head between my knees and cried. I screamed for help." Her voice catches, and she swallows hard. "It was so dark in there, but... it seemed alive then, too."
She turns her head towards me, tears brim in her eyes.
"I heard this clock. Like the chime of a grandfather clock, so clearly, even though no one lived there. Then there was this whispering from down the hall. I started to feel... called by it. And then I started thinking about bad stuff."
"Bad stuff?" My voice is a low whisper, too.
Helen nods.
"Yeah, like I couldn't control my own thoughts. The worst memories I had in my 7-year-old brain just played on a loop. A few days before Halloween, I found this dead bird on our porch. It looked like it had slammed into our house over and over until it just... cracked. Its blood streaked down our front door."
I shift uncomfortably into the seat. Her story sounds like a horror movie, but I'm not enjoying it. Her fear is palpable and real, even now, all these years later.
"Then I started thinking of this other time when I was at my grandma's nursing home. I had this yellow ball that I wouldn't stop bouncing while we were in her room. It fell from my hands and rolled out of the door. I ran out into the hall, chasing it. It was moving so fast, too fast, until it landed at the foot of a wheelchair. A hand reached for it and offered it to me, but... when I looked up, the person sitting there was mangled. They had red, seeping lesions across their arms and thick burn marks across their neck. And their eyes..." Her voice catches, and her hands close into tight fists.
I lean forward.
Helen whispers, "They didn't have eyes."
THUD, THUD, THUD
Three loud raps bang out against the passenger side window.
"Ahhh!" Helen and I scream in unison.
Her hand closes tightly around my wrist, and I jerk around to face the window.
Eddie Munson's face peers through the glass, his eyes darting between us.
"What are you guys doing in there?"
Helen whimpers behind me, and I shake my head.
"Jesus Christ!" I yell.
"Nope, sorry." Eddie pulls open the door and smiles at us. "It's just me."
I can feel Helen shaking behind me, and I place a hand over my heart, feeling it pounding underneath my skin. I glance back at her and catch her furiously wiping her eyes. She turns quickly to look out the driver's side window.
I suck in a deep breath and release it through my nostrils.
Eddie stands with his arm pressed against the top of the open passenger door. I climb out of the car and stand in front of him.
"Mornin'," he says.
I let out a shaky breath, and Eddie looks at me suspiciously.
"You guys looked like you were having a very serious conversation. What were you talking about?" He asks.
Childhood trauma.
I give him an annoyed look and pull my backpack from the floorboard.
"Girl stuff," I snap.
I push Eddie's arm off the door and slam it shut behind me.
Eddie lifts his hands in mock surrender.
"Well, jeez, sorry to interrupt."
Helen slowly gets out of the car, and I watch her walk around the hood. She has her arms pulled tightly across her waist, she still looks shaken up, but she forces a smile up at Eddie.
"Hi... I'm Helen."
Eddie steps towards her and offers her a gentle hand.
"I'm Eddie."
Helen looks at his hand suspiciously, then glances at me. I shrug my shoulders.
He shakes her hand softly, bowing his head a little. Helen seems a bit calmer after this interaction, and Eddie lets go of her hand, then steps back to lean against the passenger door.
"So... did you girls have fun?" Eddie asks us.
I sigh, "Yes, we did."
"We listened to your music!" Helen blurts.
Eddie looks at her and gives her a soft smile.
"Really?"
He rolls his eyes over to me, and I lift my chin in determination.
"Helen got much further than track 3," I say proudly.
Helen looks confused. "Track 3?"
Eddie looks at her and shakes his head in surprise. "You actually listened to Judas Priest?"
His tone isn't mocking; it's playful. He seems genuinely impressed. A wide smile breaks across his face, and Helen smiles softly back at him.
"It made me feel angry," she shrugs. "I liked it."
Eddie and I laugh at the same time. Helen blushes and looks down at her shoes.
Eddie leans toward Helen, and she looks up at him slowly.
"Well... you can keep the tape then."
Helen's mouth drops open in pure excitement. I gaze at Eddie's profile, he's being so sweet to her, and it makes my heart swell.
I stare at him. "See..." I say. He turns his head towards me. "He's not that scary."
Eddie scrunches his eyebrows, and I smile at him. We stare at each other for a moment, and he lightly bumps my shoulder. I giggle and look back at Helen. She's staring at us with one eyebrow raised in a suspicious arch.
"Um... I should go..." Helen clears her throat. "My dad will be pissed if he knows I took the car without his permission."
Eddie turns to me. "You didn't tell me she was such a rebel."
I smile at Helen. "She's full of surprises."
Eddie pushes off of the car, and I give Helen a quick hug goodbye.
She ducks into the driver's seat, and the car pulls away. Eddie waves as she drives up the dirt road and exits Forest Hills. I watch the taillights turn and disappear onto the road.
"So..." Eddie says next to me. "First big night away from the trailer park. Did you get homesick?"
"Surprisingly, no. But man..." My eyes grow wide. "Helen lives in an episode of The Twilight Zone. You know the one about the monsters on maple street?"
He snorts, "No, I don't know that one."
He begins to move toward his trailer, and I jog alongside him.
He walks with a small smile and his head down.
I walk sideways, moving my hands at the same quick pace as my speech.
"Well, you should've seen it, Eddie. The whole street was perfect. Not a single thing was out of place. The people looked like they were extras placed on a movie set."
Eddie chuckles and pulls the trailer door open, gesturing his hand for me to step through first.
I walk into his living room and slide my sneakers off by the door. A large green armchair faces his couch. I drop my backpack next to it and back my legs into the armrest, falling backward and laying across the chair with my head on the other arm and my legs kicking back and forth in the air.
Eddie sinks into his couch and begins rolling something on the coffee table in front of him. One arm reaches behind him to the window and slides half of it open, letting a cold breeze into the trailer.
My arms cross over my stomach, and I stare at the ceiling.
"Her house was huge, Eddie. It's a mansion."
Eddie grunts and I look over. He's settled his back into the arm of the couch and uses a lighter to ignite a small joint between his lips.
He takes a long inhale, holds it, and turns his head to blow out of the open window. I watch the line of his jaw flex and his curls brush against his shoulder as the smoke billows into the morning air.
"She lives in a mansion?" Eddie finally responds, looking back at me.
"I'm not exaggerating." I raise my eyebrows. "It was three stories tall. There were so many rooms. I don't think they even use all of the rooms! They probably have one bedroom just to put their coats in or something. They probably have a coat room bigger than this trailer!"
My arm falls off my stomach and extends, motioning to the room. I drop it dramatically and sigh.
"Three stories?" Eddie asks.
"Yes, two for living... one for the ghosts."
"Ghosts?" Eddie repeats.
He's focused on the oral fixation between his fingers and offers me small, nonspecific questions.
"Oh, the pool!" I turn my head in his direction, and he raises his eyebrows with amusement. "They could host the Olympics in that pool!"
Eddie laughs and takes another small puff, then purses his lips and lets the smoke release from his mouth.
"Did they have a butler named Jeeves too?"
"Not that I saw, but there's probably a bedroom for Jeeves. And Lucy the maid. And George the gardener. It was massive, Eddie." I shake my head. "And beautiful."
I lean my head against the arm of the chair and stare at the cloud-shaped water stain on Eddie's ceiling. I bet Helen's house doesn't have water stains.
"You sound jealous," Eddie teases.
My eyes trace the edges of the stain, circling its puffy edges.
"Yeah, you would be, too, if you saw it. I'm just... flabbergasted that a family of four needs a house that big. Really, what's the reason?"
I look over at Eddie and give him an incredulous look.
"Showmanship," he replies. "Bragging rights. Curb value. So they can host the office Christmas party and put 7-foot trees in every room, including the bathrooms."
He laughs hollowly and takes another drag.
I sigh and move my gaze back to the ceiling.
"What would you do with a house that big?"
"Turn it into a haven for sex, drugs, and rock n roll, obviously."
Eddie sinks into the couch and spreads his legs open. One hand begins to tap a rhythm on the arm of the sofa, and he watches me with an amused smile.
"You wouldn't want to fill it with a family? Six little Munsons running around? Hanging from the chandeliers, sliding down the antique railings, setting off firecrackers in the backyard?"
Eddie laughs, "Okay, that does sound pretty cool."
I laugh and turn my head toward him, and he smiles at me. We stare at each other for a moment. The smoke from the white joint between his fingers rolls into the air. My hand moves to my locket, and I absentmindedly pull it back on forth and the chain.
The bathroom door opens and closes. I snap my neck towards the hallway and push myself up on my elbows.
Patti strides down the hallway, her bare feet tiptoeing as she rubs a towel through her short dark hair. She's wearing a Corroded Coffin t-shirt and a pair of Eddie's boxers.
I can feel Eddie's stare on the side of my face as I watch her. I suddenly feel awkward. I scooch up in the chair and swing my legs off the arm, folding them beneath me and tightening my arms around my abdomen.
She stops in the kitchen and notices me. The towel pauses against her hair. Her eyebrows raise slightly, and I give her a small wave.
"Hi. Sorry, I just burst in," I explain quickly. "I didn't realize Eddie had company."
More like Eddie nonchalantly led me in here and failed to mention there was a hot girl taking a shower in his trailer.
Patti smiles at me and walks into the living room.
Eddie takes another puff on the couch and leans back. He widens his knees and motions for Patti to sit next to him.
I watch as her soft smile turns into a seductive grin.
She drops the towel to the floor and walks over to Eddie, sitting down softly beside him. Eddie snakes one hand under her thighs, scooping her legs up and over his. Patti's bare feet dangle, and they gaze at each other as she props one elbow on his shoulder. As if I'm not even in the room, she leans forward to give him a long kiss.
My face pulls into a grimace as I watch their quiet intimacy. They both turn their heads to me, and I quickly readjust my face into a tight smile.
"I was just telling Eddie about the mansion," I blurt.
Patti blinks at me slowly and tilts her head.
"A mansion?" She asks.
Eddie smiles, his hand tightens around Patti's hip.
"Her new friend lives in a mansion with ghosts. It's been a bit of a shock to her system, going from this-" He waves his hand around the room. "-to the giant house on maple street."
"It's really big, Patti," I explain with wide eyes. "My friend has a bathroom attached to her bedroom. Like a fancy hotel."
Patti laughs sweetly. I suddenly feel embarrassed sitting here talking about a sleepover like a small child while they sit across from me, wrapped around each other like they probably were all night.
My heart jumps at the thought. I do not need to be thinking about what they did last night.
"I have a bathroom in my bedroom, too," Patti shrugs, and Eddie raises his eyebrows at her. "I've never really thought that much of it... until I had to use your substandard shower."
Her hand lands lightly on Eddie's chest and pokes at his heart.
He feigns offense at her teasing but smiles at her. They look lost in each other's eyes again.
They look... sweet. Maybe Eddie has finally found the girl for him, and if that's the case, under obligation as his best friend, I should get to know her.
My voice breaks the silence, "Yeah, the water pressure sucks in my trailer, too. It feels like someone is spitting on my head."
Patti looks over at me and leans comfortably into Eddie's chest. His fingers lightly trace her hip.
"How long have you lived here?" She asks.
"Um, four years?" I guess. "My family moved here when I was 12, almost 13."
I move my finger along the dime-sized tear in my jeans above my knee.
"She's originally from California," Eddie adds.
"California?" Patti perks up. "Which part?"
"Los Angeles. We lived near the beach."
I look up at Patti and feel pleased with her sudden enthusiasm.
Patti's face breaks into a huge smile. She doesn't look that intimidating anymore. Eddie smokes next to her and exhales out of the window.
"That's where I'm going when I graduate." Patti leans forward. "I'm hopping on a bus to LA and never looking back."
Eddie lets out a small scoff, "This is the first I'm hearing about this."
Patti rolls her eyes at him. "It's been my plan since I was 10. I want to go to Hollywood and Santa Monica. I want to squish the sand between my toes, swim in the ocean, and then lay back, float, and stare at the sun."
She smiles, and I return it. Patti's words conjure my happier memories from my childhood; it makes me almost want to cry.
"I miss the ocean," I reply quietly. Eddie watches me carefully.
"I hear it never snows there. I hate the snow," Patti continues.
"Me too!" I yell, happy that we have another thing in common. "It makes me depressed!"
Eddie gives me a curious look. I shrink back, feeling embarrassed over my burst of enthusiasm.
Patti doesn't seem annoyed; her red lips open as a lyrical laugh pours from her throat.
"Same!" She agrees. "I hate the ice and sludge, Christmas carols are the worst, and I can't ice skate to save my life. I just want to hide indoors until it's summertime."
"You both are too cynical." Eddie shakes his head and takes a pull from his joint.
Patti plucks it from his lips and sets it between her own. Eddie sucks in and looks at her, offended. She tucks closer to him and takes a small puff.
They fit together. It seems like they make sense.
"So, are you guys dating?" I ask suddenly.
Eddie chokes over the smoke in his lungs, and Patti offers me a sympathetic smile.
"Sorry! You don't have to answer that!" I pull my knees closer to my chest.
I'm hunched in the armchair, embarrassed and rambling, but Patti and Eddie stretch across the couch.
She is leaning against his side, and his arm wraps around her back. His fingers stroke the skin just under her t-shirt. They seem entirely relaxed, as opposed to my anxious frame folded into the chair.
"No," Patti replies simply. "We're not dating."
"Oh," I say, feeling confused. "You two just seem to fit together so well..."
I shrug my shoulders.
Eddie shifts in his seat and his eyes glance over to mine; they beg me to stop talking.
Patti laughs lightly and looks at Eddie, his face rearranging into a sweet smile. She pats his cheek with the palm of her hand and sets the joint between his lips.
She sits up a little and leans forwards, her elbows press into her knees.
"Can I give you some advice?"
I nod my head eagerly. She seems much older and wiser than I, even though we're only a year apart.
"Guys are much more needy than girls," she states.
I blink at her and tilt my head.
Eddie sits up. "What-"
Patti holds up a palm to his mouth and cuts him off. I giggle nervously. She turns to me again.
"People will tell you to play hard to get, right?" She squints her eyes. "That's bullshit."
I tuck my hair behind my ears, urging her words of wisdom to float over and lodge into my brain.
"You should be straightforward about what you want. And you don't need to define anything if you don't want to. It's okay just to have fun." Patti shrugs, and Eddie pulls the joint out of his mouth.
"I feel like I should be offended-" He tries to interject, but Patti shushes him.
"Winter," she smiles. "You are in control of your own feelings."
I'm fixated on her words as if she's reading secrets to me from the book of womanhood.
"Figure out what you want... who you want. And take it." Patti shrugs as if it's the simplest thing in the world.
Eddie looks back and forth between Patti and me, not understanding the unique connection of female experience that passes between us.
"Just... just take it?" I ask slowly.
Patti nods her head.
"It's simple, really. Why worry about losing something you don't even have right now? What's the worst that could happen if you were just totally honest about what you want?"
"Uh... I could horribly embarrass myself," I reply, clutching the golden heart around my neck. "I could be rejected."
"Rejected? By what... a boy?" Patti laughs, and Eddie scrunches his eyebrows at her. "They're just boys. Not gods. They're just as romantic and insecure as the rest of us, actually, probably more insecure and romantic than us. You have to back yourself, and if someone doesn't want what you want, then... fuck it. Find somebody else who does."
She waves her hand dismissively in the air.
"I don't think Winter is that kind of girl," Eddie says suddenly. His tone is harsh and flat.
Patti and I snap our necks toward him. He looks startled by our sudden glares. A small feeling of offense creeps over me.
Is he saying I can't be like Patti, that I can't take charge?
"Why not?" Patti asks. Her voice is warning, but Eddie doesn't heed it.
"I just mean... look at her." Eddie waves his hand in my general direction.
Rude. I lower my head and tilt it at Eddie, begging him to explain but hoping he just shuts up.
"No... I just mean. You... you're innocent," Eddie leans forward, trying to explain himself but not succeeding. "You can barely raise your hand in class, let alone... I don't know..."
He looks helplessly from Patti to me.
I scoff, and Patti shakes her head at Eddie.
"You do not get to tell her what she can and cannot do," she scolds.
I cross my arms and nod, looking at Eddie as if to say, Yeah, what she said.
Eddie sputters, "That's not what I'm saying! Wha- How am I the bad guy right now?"
Patti shakes her head at him.
"Stop talking, Eddie."
"Why should I? She's my friend." Eddie looks serious now, and he sounds possessive.
Patti sighs, "Well, maybe you just don't get it, okay? This is girl stuff."
Eddie's face falls. "That's bullshit. I know her better than you!"
My eyes flicker between them. I feel like a toy being fought over by two stubborn children.
A tense silence falls between them as they stare each other down. It's the Wild West with Eddie and Patti locked in a quick draw over who has my best interests at heart.
I shrink in the armchair as they slowly look over at me.
I make the decision to side with Patti. Eddie is my friend, but his advice has never worked for me, and I may need to try something new.
I sigh deeply and focus on Patti.
"How do I know, though? That I want someone?"
My eyes feel round and innocent. I'm pleading for some sage wisdom, some direction.
I can feel Eddie staring at me, but I refuse to look at him.
"Oh, you'll know," she says confidently. "You'll feel it."
Her head dips in a shallow nod, and I immediately understand—the flutter in my lower abdomen, the dizzy feeling in my skull. Yeah, I've felt that before.
"Okay." I straighten my spine. "Then what do I do about it?"
Patti shrugs. I notice now that Eddie's hand is no longer around her waist. He sets the joint in an ashtray on the table and starts to twist the rings on one of his hands.
My eyes stare into Patti's dark, confident ones.
She smiles, "Walk up to him and kiss him?"
Eddie scoffs loudly.
I blink slowly at her. "Well... um... that's a tad aggressive. Maybe something more subtle?"
"Okay, not your style, that's cool. Here-" She turns suddenly to Eddie. "Let me show you."
Patti slaps both hands against Eddie's cheeks, forcing his face toward her. Eddie glances over at me as I lean forward to watch her movements. I tilt my head, feeling like a zoologist observing animals in the wild.
"I am not comfortable with this," Eddie says, his cheeks squished between her palms.
Patti takes one hand and lightly brushes a curl away from his forehead.
"You can always do the classic, "oh, you've got a small piece of lint in your hair. Please let me get that for you"."
I nod and watch her lightly graze Eddie's scalp; her red-painted fingers float over his hair, then twist down and fall away naturally.
"Can't you just ask Helen for advice?" Eddie says, but I don't take my eyes off Patti's movements.
"Helen is somehow more chaste than me," I reply and squint my eyes. "What if my fingers get tangled in their hair?"
Patti laughs. "Then just roll with it. It'll give you even more of an excuse to touch them."
I nod. She makes it all sound so easy.
"Now, going in for the kiss." Patti pushes Eddie's chin up. "Depending on your guy, you can do a sweet peck on the cheek and then slowly drag your lips over to his-"
Eddie's eyes watch Patti's and then flicker over to mine. He swallows hard, and his Adam's apple bobs in his throat.
"Or, maybe, he likes aggression. Make sure the moment is right. Again, you'll feel it. Time will slow, their eyes will stare into yours, then..." One of her hands roughly grabs the side of Eddie's throat. "One hand here, the other on the side of their face."
I imagine Theo in the video store aisle when he stood in front of me with his arm propped against the shelf. I lean forward.
Patti's hands move to cradle Eddie's face.
"Take your thumb and lightly brush their lips." Her thumb performs the motion across his pink lips. "Look into their eyes first, then back down."
Patti looks into Eddie's dark brown eyes. Her gaze falls down his face.
"And then you lean in."
I hold my breath as she moves her mouth toward Eddie's. Her face tilts, and his eyes drop to her lips.
I watch with detached fascination, trying to make a mental note of every small choice so I can recreate it. Before their lips can touch, Eddie turns his head suddenly.
Patti freezes. My eyes widen.
I've leaned so far forward to watch that I'm almost out of the chair. Eddie stands up quickly, and I look up at him. Patti lets out a small huff of annoyance and drops her hands against her thighs.
A tense silence fills the room.
Eddie begins waving his hands back and forth. I raise my eyebrows at his spastic movements.
"No. Nope. We're shutting this down. I do not like this." He shakes his head wildly, his curls slapping against his cheeks.
"Jeez, calm down," Patti mutters from the couch. Her arms are folded tightly across her chest, and she looks annoyed.
He stares at her in disbelief. She looks up at him, cool and collected. Eddie looks back at me and shakes his shoulders, his arms flapping against his sides. He's urging me with frantic eyes to agree with him.
I give him a shallow shrug. I just wanted some advice, it's not like he hasn't made innuendos or bragged in front of me before, but he has a problem with this?
Eddie scoffs, "What is wrong with you two?"
"Eddie..." Patti's voice is unemotional, contrasting Eddie's freak-out in the middle of the room. "Sit back down."
"No! Nope!" Eddie's hands land on his hips as he stares at the floor. Nervous energy rolls off of him in waves.
I think he's overreacting.
I sigh and lean back in the chair. "You're such a drama queen."
"He is, isn't he?" Patti looks at me in agreement.
I nod, "Yes, completely. He's always been that way."
Eddie claps his hands, startling both of us and cutting our conversation short.
"No. NOPE. No!" He bellows. "That's enough bonding. Winter, get out now."
He's visibly disturbed, but I don't understand the big deal. He points at the door, and my hand flutters to my chest. I want to laugh at how upset he looks. Instead, I give him an innocent smile as if to say what did I do?
"Eddie, don't be rude," Patti chastises him and stands up. She lightly places one hand on his bicep.
He roughly pulls his arm away and turns on her.
"I don't want her to turn into you, okay?" He yells. "She's very impressionable."
"Impressionable?" I sputter.
I also stand up, feeling all humor for this situation drain from my body.
"You don't want her to turn into me?" Patti repeats his words, her hands lifting and pushing against her chest. Her eyes flash with anger.
Eddie looks between us, helpless and unsure what to say next.
I raise my hands in surrender.
"You know what, maybe I should go."
I move to scoop up my backpack.
"Yeah, I think I want to leave now, too," Patti scoffs.
She stomps away from Eddie and stands next to me by the front door.
Eddie follows us with one arm outstretched.
"No, stop. Please, I'm sorry-"
He falters, unsure of who to reach out to first.
His eyes finally land on Patti, and I drop my gaze to the floor.
"Well, you can't go." Eddie turns his palm over and motions at her. "You're still wearing my clothes."
He's trying to charm her by saying something cute, but she is not amused.
"Oh?" Patti looks down and tugs at Eddie's band shirt. She takes a giant step backward. "Let me fix that."
She turns and marches down the hallway. She pushes Eddie's bedroom door open, and it bangs as it hits the wall, then slowly shudders to a stop.
I let out a low whistle, and Eddie looks over at me. His jaw clenches as irritation spreads across his features. Before he can speak, Patti walks back into the hallway, clutching a bag and a wad of clothes.
Eddie raises his arms and looks utterly clueless. Patti looks him dead in the eyes and drops her bag to the floor.
"Here, you can have your clothes back," she says dryly.
She pulls the Corroded Coffin t-shirt over her head and throws it at Eddie, revealing her smooth naked skin. I quickly slap my hand over my eyes and turn around to give her some privacy.
My fingers part, and I watch as a pair of boxers collide with Eddie's head. He sputters and pulls them roughly off of his face.
"Okay, now who's being dramatic?" He yells.
I stifle a laugh at Eddie's expression.
He's not angry; he's confused. Deeply confused and annoyed. Another laugh forces its way out, and his eyes snap to mine. He shakes his head at me, equally confused by me standing here laughing as he is with Patti changing in his kitchen.
Patti walks forward and steps in between Eddie and me. Her hand collides with his shoulder, and he stumbles backward. She's wearing a black dress and bends down to pull on her boots that sit by the front door.
She stands up and looks at me.
"Very nice to officially meet you, Winter. Whoever the guy is..." Her eyes slowly glance at Eddie and then returns to me. "Give him hell, okay? He probably doesn't deserve you anyways. You could have the pick of them all."
"Oh... thanks," I mutter, stunned by her encouraging words.
She gives me a small nod and opens the trailer door. Eddie follows as she marches outside and down the front steps.
He pauses and sets his hands against the railing of the porch.
"Oh, come on! I'm sorry!" He yells to her retreating frame. "Can we please talk about this?"
Patti stomps towards her Camaro and gives Eddie a smoldering look before she slides into the driver's seat. The engine roars, and she peels away; a large cloud of dust blooms and dissipates.
I stand next to Eddie and watch her car turn onto the road. He drops his head, and his hair hangs in his face. An exaggerated, low groan emits from his throat.
"Well... she's awesome." I shrug my shoulders. "If you don't date her, I will."
Eddie picks up his head and looks over at me slowly.
"I hate you," he says.
I laugh loudly.
"I do! You just scared her away!" He cries, frustration dripping from his voice.
More laughter ripples from my chest. I lean against the railing and clutch my stomach, struggling to breathe.
"Oh, Eddie, you didn't need any of my help in that department."
Eddie stands in front of me, not finding any of this funny. He shakes his hands at me.
"Excuse me, I am the victim in this situation!"
"Oh, please." I grin at him. "You're just mad because we got along so well... I think you're jealous."
I reach my finger out and poke him lightly on his cheek. He pulls his head back and slaps at my wrist.
I giggle, and his mouth tightens. I know he's trying to keep a smile from breaking onto his face.
"You two are never going to be allowed in a room together again," he says, crossing his arms over his chest.
My hand lands on my heart.
"Allowed?" I ask. "Oh, do we scare you that much? What do you think will happen?" I lean toward him and give him a sweet smile. "I'll steal her away from you? Or maybe we'll gossip about your secretly extensive haircare routine?"
Eddie shakes his head at me.
I sigh and lean back against the railing.
"She can't stay mad at you forever," I say.
"We'll see..." Eddie drops his hands to his sides and tilts his head at me. "So... who were you thinking about? When you were asking her for advice?"
I shrug my shoulders.
"No one in particular. I just thought it would be good to know..."
He nods. "Sure... sure."
I sigh and step around him. I slide into my sneakers that still sit by his door and pull my backpack over one shoulder. I lightly skip down the porch steps and walk across the dirt to my trailer.
"Can I come over later?" Eddie calls out to me. "I need help with my essay."
I pause and turn around to face him.
"You sure I'm not too impressionable for that?" I respond sarcastically. "A boy in my room? Golly, what would that do to my reputation?"
Eddie hangs his head and rubs his fingers against his eyes.
"Okay, okay. I'm sorry," he apologizes. "That was not cool of me."
I laugh and shake my head.
"It's okay, Eddie... you couldn't corrupt me even if you wanted to."
His smile falters a little, and he gazes at me. I turn around, jog up the steps of my front porch, and then step inside.
Author's note:
I made playlists! They're good... I promise :) links are always hard to share on here, but you can type out open . spotify . com and add the playlist URL or go to my profile REOSpeeddragon
winter's playlist: open.+ spotify + .com + /playlist/0mLF0sdkQaGadmeKQbGaxO?si=864370d65e3b4c37
eddie's playlist: open.+ spotify + .com + /playlist/5rDHa8XyBzyhtZCtFdarRt?si=f576207128164e04
thanks for reading!