Chapter 21: Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic

"Every little thing she does is magic

Everything she do just turns me on

Even though my life before was tragic

Now I know my love for her goes on"

Friday. January 24, 1986.

POV: Winter Reid

I walk past my mom, who is drinking a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper at our kitchen table. My backpack sits by the front door, and I reach down to sling it over my shoulder. I tug at my sleeves and cast a glance at my green sweater. I pull the fabric away from my body and tilt my head.

What shade of green is this? Does this look more like olive or vomit?

I shake my head, definitely vomit. I let out a loud huff and dramatically drop my backpack to the floor. My mom's head jerks up, watching as I stomp back into my bedroom.

My usually tidy space looks like the aftermath of a small tornado. I tug off my sweater and glance helplessly around the room. Finally, I reach out to collect a crumpled top on the floor by my mattress and pull it over my head.

My mom's eyes follow me as I reemerge from my room. I hurry down the hallway dressed in a gray cardigan with shiny buttons that clasp snugly over my breasts. It's an old sweater from before I hit puberty and the bottom of the cardigan barely grazes the top of my Levi jeans. I pause and stretch out the hem, casting judgment on this clothing choice, too.

Is this too tight? Does it look like I'm trying too hard?

A loud beep sounds from outside, and I know that Eddie is waiting for me.

I throw my head back and let out a frustrated grunt at the ceiling.

"Morning, babydoll." My mom sips her coffee. "Woke up on the wrong side of the bed?"

"I hate all of my clothes," I whimper.

My mom cocks her head. "You never seemed to care before."

I sigh loudly.

"Yeah, well, it was easy when no one even looked at me at school! Now, people wave at me in the hallways and ask me to sit with them at lunch, so I can't exactly show up with a vomit green sweater and my hair uncombed," I yell and dramatically throw my hands against my sides.

My mom blinks at me and gingerly raises the coffee cup to her lips. I can tell she is surprised by my burst of teenage angst. My face falls into my hands.

I know I sound ridiculous, and she is right. I've never had an outburst like this before. Honestly, I had far more important things to worry about, but lately, my life has been calm. And now, apparently, the anxiety usually reserved for more serious stuff like my mom waking up to go to work or making sure our hot water doesn't get turned off has redirected itself to the most shallow and most mundane part of my existence... my appearance.

Another beep sounds from outside; this one is longer and more impatient.

I should be happy that my life is somewhat stable, right? My mom has perked up these past two weeks, and she's handling things that I usually have to worry about. I should be happy.

I don't have enough time to throw the rest of my clothes out of my closet, so I resign myself to hiding under my oversized denim jacket. I reach up to grab it from the hook, feeling the cardigan graze upwards and exposing my midriff.

I tug it down harshly and pull my backpack over my shoulder. If I can keep my arms down all day, the sweater actually doesn't look that bad. I've tried this top in my mirror before and liked how the fabric gently cups my chest and creates a V for my locket to lay between. It makes me feel a little flirty, but we don't need to go overboard and have it slide up to a crop top in the middle of the hallway.

Ugh, I'm overthinking this again.

My jacket folds over my arm, and I push open the trailer door. I turn to say goodbye to my mom, but my speech is cut off by Eddie honking his horn once more, this time laying on it without letting up.

I turn my head and see him parked alongside my porch.

"Alright, I'm coming!" I scream at him.

I give my mom a small smile and run outside, leap down the porch steps, and collide with the passenger side door. I climb in and throw my stuff on the floorboard.

"God, for a second there, I thought you might still be sleeping," Eddie says as I buckle my seatbelt.

I give him an annoyed look and pull down the visor. I lean forward in the seat to move my eyes closer to the mirror and check if my mascara has smudged. It seems okay. I run a hand through the front pieces of my hair. The strands fall gently against my cheeks, and I tilt my chin from left to right.

I can feel my cardigan that insists on exposing me rise up the small of my back, revealing the soft skin underneath. In my peripheral, I can sense Eddie leaning back in his seat and looking toward my lower back. His eyes graze the contours of my spine and trace along the dimples of my skin.

"Shouldn't we get to school?" I ask him, still checking my reflection in the mirror.

He sits up suddenly. He pushes one foot down on the brake and shifts the van into drive.

"Yup! Yes, we're going."

I close the visor and reach down to fish my cassette out of my backpack. I lean over to press eject on the radio and cut Dio off mid-song.

"Excuse me, what do you think you're doing?" Eddie asks.

I ignore him and feed the tape into the radio.

He moves one hand to the bottom of the steering wheel, and the other lands on my wrist.

"No. The driver picks the music."

"Um, no," I say, wiggling my wrist out of his grip. "You said I could pick the music today!"

"I uttered no such thing." His ringed finger pokes for the eject button, but I slap my hand over the radio.

I scooch forward and turn towards him. He drives out of the trailer park with one hand on the wheel, the other hovers outstretched toward the radio I'm guarding like a feral animal.

"It's my turn, Eddie," I say defensively and turn up the volume. George Harrison begins to sing through the speakers.

"It can't be your turn. I am the driver. Therefore, it is always my turn."

He leans over to move my hand away.

"Stop it," I hiss.

I'm at the edge of the seat and have leaned over to use my body to shield the radio.

"No, Winnie, you stop it."

Eddie reaches in front of my chest and tries to get his hand between my hunched shoulders and the stereo. His fingers brush against my collarbone, and his forearm lightly pushes me backward. I have a sudden urge to bite his hand.

The van lurches, and I lose my balance. I fall back into the passenger seat. Eddie takes the opportunity and manages to stab the eject button.

My tape falls out of the radio, and I let out a frustrated grunt. Eddie smiles and puts both hands back on the steering wheel.

My eyes scan the floorboard and catch on the edge of the rectangle. I reach down and then throw my head back up, holding the cassette victoriously in one hand.

I look at him defiantly.

"Eddie, you said yesterday that I could pick the music this morning."

He furrows his eyebrows and pushes his palm against the radio, but I pull on his fingers, trying to pry them away.

"Stop it!" He sounds frustrated.

Eddie takes his eyes off the road and reaches toward me; our arms press together and shove for control of the radio. We are both leaning toward the middle, each stabbing different buttons and slapping the other's hands away.

The steering wheel wobbles, and the van veers to the right.

I look up through the windshield quickly and yell, "Deer!"

"Oh, shit!" Eddie jerks upright and puts both hands back on the wheel, dramatically pulling it to the left and screeching into the other lane.

An oncoming car honks, and he quickly jerks the wheel. The sudden movement throws me against the passenger door, and I push one hand against the ceiling. The van swerves back to the right side of the yellow line.

Eddie grips the steering wheel tightly between his hands and lets out a shaky breath.

I gently move back into the passenger seat, reach forward, and push my cassette tape into the radio.

"Give Me Love (Give Me Peace On Earth)" plays through the van.

"Are you okay?" Eddie asks worriedly; he looks frazzled from our near collision.

I sit back and sigh. "I can't believe you fell for that."

Eddie slowly turns his head to me. He blinks, and I smile at him.

"Are you saying there wasn't a deer?" He asks slowly, a disturbed expression crossing his face.

I shrug and lean forward to turn up the volume.

"That's evil," Eddie whispers, his wide eyes staring at my profile.

I gently set my fingers against his cheek and push his head away from my direction.

"Eyes on the road, please. You still need to graduate, so no more near-crashes today."

He shakes his head and stares through the windshield.

"All that so you could listen to a Beatle sing," he mutters.

"The best Beatle," I correct him. "Also, you said it was my turn! I'm only defending my rights as a passenger."

My hands clasp dramatically over my heart. I feel very passionate about this.

Eddie shakes his head at my drastic measures.

I prop my elbow on the center console and set my chin in my palm.

"Yesterday morning. I didn't sleep well the night before and said it was too early to listen to Black Sabbath." I point my finger at him. "And you said I could pick the music today."

I stare at him.

Eddie looks over at me, squints his eyes, then sighs deeply.

"Okay, I vaguely remember that."

"Thank you!" I shout and lean back in the seat.

Eddie smiles. "What will you do when I'm not here to drive you around anymore?"

"Well, obviously, I will get my license, and you're going to gift me your van."

"No, you will never drive this van." Eddie shakes his head.

I turn in my seat to face him.

"Hey, I'm a good driver!" I protest. "Also, I fix her up more than you, so I don't think she is as loyal as you think she is."

"You are many things, Winnie." He looks over at me and smirks. "But a good driver is not one of them."

I furrow my eyebrows. "How do you know that when you don't even let me try?"

"I just know," he shrugs. His fingers stretch out away from the steering wheel. "You would constantly lose the keys, you would get distracted by your need to read every sign we pass, and this van is way too big for you."

I actually agree with his first two points, but I take offense with his last one.

"It is not!" I say.

Eddie tilts his head towards me. "She steers like a ship. I don't think you can handle that."

"You don't know what I can handle," I scoff. "I would be a great captain."

"No, you wouldn't," he says simply.

I refuse to let this go.

"I absolutely would! I probably would have steered the Titanic away from the iceberg. That's how good I am!"

"Okay, now you're exaggerating," he laughs.

Our playful bickering continues all the way to school, and Eddie pulls into a parking spot.

"My point is..." Eddie explains. "The Ewoks were definitely cannibals."

I reach for my backpack.

"No!" I disagree. "They were peaceful creatures!"

Eddie waves his arms back and forth.

"They have the helmets left over from the Stormtroopers they feasted on. They tried to roast Han Solo over a fire! "

"Maybe they just wanted to keep Han tied up? One can understand the urge to do that..." My mouth turns into a dreamy smile, and my voice trails off.

Eddie shakes his head at me, and I laugh.

He ejects the cassette from the radio and turns off the ignition.

"Here, keep this." He shoves the cassette at me. "Don't leave it behind like your Fleetwood Mac tape."

I sigh and grab it from him.

"When are you going to admit to yourself and everyone else that you secretly love Stevie Nicks?"

Eddie snorts, "I can't admit that because it simply isn't true. I don't like her voice."

"Blasphemy!" I cry and hop out of the van. Eddie joins me, and we walk side by side, merging into the sea of students. "She harnesses both vulnerability and power. She casts spells!"

Eddie shakes his head and pulls open the front door to the school for me. We stride down the hall towards my locker, and he leans up against the beige metal.

I fumble with my padlock. I turn the dial and pull it down quickly, but nothing happens.

I groan, "Why does this thing never work for me?"

Eddie leans over, places one hand around the lock, twists the knob gently between two fingers, and then tugs. It unlocks.

I smile at him. "Thank you."

He slaps his hands together as if he is brushing off dirt. "Anytime, ma'am."

"Eddie!" I hear a voice call.

Eddie raises his hand in a wave, and I look over my shoulder to see his Hellfire freshman trot over and stand in front of him.

Mike Wheeler, Dustin Henderson, and Lucas Sinclair all smile up at him. Eddie's little lost sheep.

I pull open my locker and grab my notebooks for my first classes. The inside of the door is decorated with a couple of polaroids and flower stickers. I smile at the picture of Eddie and me leaning against his van. Neither of us is looking at the camera, and I can't quite remember if we were bickering or laughing, but it's a nice picture.

I close the locker door and turn around. Eddie and the boys are chattering about their campaign tonight.

"Can you make it, Lucas?" Mike Wheeler asks.

Eddie has his arms crossed and raises his eyebrows at Lucas Sinclair, urging him to make the right choice.

"Yeah... yeah... it's not that important of a game. Besides, I ride the bench, so Coach won't even notice if I'm not there."

Lucas looks down at his sneakers.

"Good man," Eddie says with an approving smile.

"Are you sure, Lucas?" I interject.

All heads snap over to me. I clutch my notebooks against my chest.

"I mean, what if they decide to put you in? Wouldn't you want to be there for that?"

It's almost the end of January, and I've successfully attended three basketball games, two here in Hawkins and one away in a neighboring town. Every time I have to perform, it gets a little easier. Helen and I command our spots in the back row. We people watch and make stupid jokes; it's actually been pretty fun. The season probably won't wrap up until right before spring break if the Hawkins team even makes it that far in the tournament.

Eddie furrows his eyebrows. "Hey, don't lead my men astray. They have their own battles to fight."

I roll my eyes at him. "I'm just saying he can make his own decisions. I thought you guys weren't doing Friday campaigns, anyways. Can't you just postpone?"

Dustin Henderson laughs at me, and I raise my eyebrows at him.

His smile falters.

"Well, we play on Thursday, but Eddie had something important to do yesterday..." I turn my head to Eddie, and he doesn't meet my gaze. Dustin clears his throat. "So, uh, yeah. We're meeting tonight."

"It's not that big of a deal," Lucas adds. "I'll talk to Theo, and I'm sure it'll be fine."

My heart lurches at the mention of Theo's name. I haven't spoken to him since the video store, besides a few small hellos in the hallway. I don't have any classes with him, and I tend to duck into a bathroom or a janitor's closet whenever I see him walking toward me.

Eddie turns his head to me. "See, Winter, it's fine."

"Alright..." I look back towards the freshmen standing in front of us. "All I'm saying is don't let him-" My thumb points at Eddie. "-tell you what to do."

Eddie cocks his head, and the boys glance around nervously.

Eddie gives them a charming smile.

"They wouldn't abandon me..." He tilts his head. "Would you, boys?"

They all look up quickly and smile assuredly at him.

"No way, man." Mike Wheeler responds.

"Never!" Dustin Henderson adds, and Lucas Sinclair nods in agreement.

My eyes widen at their hopeful faces, so eager to please. I shake my head... man, they are brainwashed.

I glance over to Eddie. He purses his lips into a small smile and stares appreciatively at his loyal followers. The boys in front of him might hold him in high esteem because of his devil-may-care attitude and his position as their psychotic dungeon master, but really, he's just a big softie that uses his club as a meeting place for the broken and the damned. Nerds supporting nerds.

It is very sweet, but I still don't think the freshmen need to worship at his feet; his ego is already big enough.

"Well," I shrug. "I abandoned the Hellfire club."

The boys look over at me suddenly. Eddie glances over, and his smile falters a little. He still can't believe I haven't returned to the fold. But I have cheer now, and Hellfire is Eddie's domain to wreak havoc and play god.

Besides, I didn't really abandon the club. I did love it, but after my dad's death, I needed to stay home more to look after my mom.

"You..." Lucas hesitates. "Played Dungeons and Dragons?"

I shift from one foot to the next. "Um, yes... I founded the club with Eddie."

"Bullshit," Dustin says.

I glance back and forth at the freshmen boys. They all stare at me with squinted eyes and disbelief painted across their faces.

What, Eddie didn't tell them?

"Excuse me," I scoff. "I designed the t-shirt you're wearing."

I point at Dustin. His gaze drops to the Hellfire logo.

"Did you design that?" Eddie squints his eyes."I don't remember it quite like that."

I gasp.

So he buried the fact that we founded the club together, and now he's trying to minimize my contributions?

I lean over and slap the back of Eddie's head, his curls flap and fall into his face.

Dustin and Mike's eyes widen; Lucas covers his mouth, stifling a small laugh.

I stare up at him.

"Don't Watson and Crick me!"

Eddie looks down at me and rubs the back of his skull.

"What does that mean?" Mike whispers to Dustin.

"They stole the discovery of the double helix formation in DNA from a female chemist," Dustin explains.

Eddie gawks, and I point at Dustin.

"Yes. That. Exactly that."

"Okay, maybe you drew the picture." Eddie lifts his hands in surrender.

I turn toward the freshmen.

"Eddie and I used to play campaigns in his trailer for hours when we were kids. And I obliterated him. Every. Single. Time."

They laugh, and Eddie shakes his head.

"No, you didn't!" He protests.

"I think you cried once," I shrug.

The boy's laughter grows louder.

Eddie is about to respond when the bell for first period rings out. He pushes off the locker, and the freshmen start walking away.

"Oh shit!" I exclaim.

Mike Wheeler jumps a little at my volume. Eddie turns to me calmly.

I look up at him in distress.

"I left my jacket in your van!"

"Do you need it?" Eddie asks. "It's not that cold today."

Students around us race through the halls, rushing to make it to class.

I nod my head vigorously at Eddie.

"Yes. I need it." My tone is serious and unwavering.

I can't go through the day worrying that every slight movement will expose my boobs or my stomach.

Eddie shrugs, "Well, we can't go out now. School's started, kid."

I sigh and look up at him.

"I am going to flash people in this sweater, Eddie."

My hand waves wildly in front of my body, trying to convey the urgency.

Dustin, Mike, and Lucas look at me with wide eyes.

Eddie laughs, and I stomp one of my feet in frustration. He's not getting it.

"Look!"

I raise my arms, and the sweater slides up all the way to the bottom of my bra, exposing my entire abdomen. A teen boy across the hall looks over and whoops.

"Okay!" Eddie sputters, stepping in front of me quickly. "Well, don't do that."

He places one hand on the locker above my head, and his body blocks the rest of the students from viewing my bare skin. His other hand floats in the air, trying to soothe me.

My arms still hang above my head, and I look desperately into Eddie's eyes.

"I can't help it!" I cry. "I didn't have enough time to change this morning. My jacket was supposed to preserve my modesty!"

"I think you look nice," Dustin Henderson says kindly from behind Eddie.

I lean around Eddie's arm and give him a small smile. I pull the hem of my sweater back down, and it grazes the top of my jeans.

"I don't know how to help you, Winnie," Eddie sighs deeply. "We can't go back out to my van, and you need to go to class. Just..."

His eyes slide down my body and then rise back to my face.

My eyebrows knit together, and I try to plead with my round eyes.

"Just don't do that again?" He says. "Okay? You'll be fine."

"Wonderful," I reply flatly.

The Hellfire boys have stepped back.

Eddie looks over his shoulder and tilts his head, motioning for them to scurry off to class.

I sigh and duck under Eddie's hand, which still pushes against the locker. I clutch my books tightly against my stomach and trudge down the hall; Eddie turns and jogs to catch up with me.

My eyes count the tiles on the floor as I walk, and I can feel a rolling wave of anxiety swell and crash in my stomach.

Eddie follows me all the way to my first classroom and catches my elbow by the door.

"Why do you care anyways?" He asks.

His grip pulls me slightly toward him, and I meet his eyes.

"What?"

"You've never seemed that worried about stuff like this before."

He motions to my outfit, and I bite down nervously on my lip.

I step backward, causing his fingers to drop from my arm.

Behind me, a group of kids shuffles into the classroom. I glance over my shoulder at the door and then back to Eddie. He raises his eyebrows at me.

I also hate this newfound insecurity of mine. The less invisible I become, the more chance there is for me to look stupid or silly. I have always moved through life largely unfazed, but only because I didn't think anyone perceived me anyways. Now, it's like I've woken up, and I suddenly feel self-conscious about everything.

I tilt my head back and let out a small groan.

"I don't know! I don't want people to judge me."

Eddie laughs loudly. I scrunch my eyebrows at his response.

He leans forward to smile at me.

"People don't matter, Winnie."

"Easy for you to say!" I motion my hand at his frame, taking in his wise-ass smile, unkempt hair, and ripped jeans. He is attractive but seems wholly indifferent toward his appearance. "You want people to take notice of you. You're confident in who you are. I am not like that."

"Well, I thought you were confident!" He smiles and lifts his shoulders, not understanding my predicament in the slightest.

"No, I was invisible," I say flatly. "I was so happy when no one would look at me. It made everything so much easier."

I glance down and stare at my sneakers.

Eddie puffs up his cheeks; he makes that face when he thinks very hard or can't find the words to say. Right now, it's both.

I know that Eddie has not been spared scrutiny by society, but somehow, he learned to live without the desire for acceptance. He invented his own rules, and now he can't understand why anyone would want to do anything different. He doesn't know how much I've longed to not feel like an outcast; how, before I even met him, I would dream of normalcy and stability.

Eddie is like a tree standing proud and defiant in the forest; he's formed his roots and stretched out his own branches. I am just a wave in the sea, feeling tossed between storms and clear skies, just trying not to fall apart.

"You wouldn't get it, okay?" I sigh. "But, it's fine, really."

I turn toward the door. Now I'm going to be walking into class late and have even more eyes on me, great .

Eddie's voice calls to me, "Well, I always saw you. And you've always looked good to me."

I turn my head to look at him. I hesitate.

He's being sweet, but... how do I tell him it doesn't matter how he looks at me?

We know each other so well that he sees me as the person I am deep down, but high school isn't like that. It's shallow, and I feel like I'm under a spotlight.

I offer him a small smile.

"Thanks, Eddie."

That's the best thing to say so we can just let this go. I could explain it to him a million times, and he probably still wouldn't understand.

Eddie was done proving his worth to society a long time ago. Now he doesn't care who looks at him or how much noise he makes. He probably assumed I felt the same way because I walked alongside him, but unfortunately, I never did. I have always cared what people think, and now it's amplified.

Eddie nods at me, and I pull the door open, step into the classroom with my head down, and walk quickly to my desk.

Author's Note:

I think Winter Reid would love Cardigan by Taylor Swift.

thanks for reading :)