Sorry for the delay folks. Work was WILD this week so I really didn't have much time for typing.
Was this how a hangover felt? Dustin pushed his fingers into his eyes, blocking out the meagre mid-morning sun. He felt like garbage - enough to wonder why people bothered drinking alcohol at all. Smacking his lips and half-gagging at the stale taste in his mouth, he decided that brushing his teeth would be his first waking port of call, and forced himself out to the bathroom
He ended up taking a shower, too, for good measure. When he emerged from his bedroom again, more ready to face the day, he heard Rosie bustling about the kitchen. Was she cooking? He hurried to find out.
She had made pancakes, but not the regular kind. These ones were slightly more savoury, and fried in bacon grease. The addition of maple syrup on top of them led to a flavor explosion in his mouth that could not be compared. He stacked bacon, sausage, and fluffy scrambled eggs on top, eating in ravenous bites. His aunt slammed a huge glass of water down in front of him, too.
"This'll help more than food."
Dustin slurped as he drank. He hadn't realized just how thirsty he was. Was alcohol always like this?
Rosie settled across from him and pushed some eggs around on her plate.
"I drank more than three."
"I know."
His stomach lurched slightly as he asked: "Are you mad at me?"
"No. Of course not. I thought you might."
"Oh."
"I drank a lot more my first time."
"You did?"
"Yeah. I was younger than you, too. With no-one around to stop me."
"Did you feel like spewing?"
"Oh my god, I threw up so hard when I got home. I thought I was gonna die." She stuck her tongue out and used her hands to demonstrate the spray.
"You got in trouble?"
"Not really, actually. My brother was there, and he could tell I already regretted it. He made me drink a gallon of water, then put me to bed."
"That's Cousin Rob?" Meaning Rosie's older brother.
"Yep."
He ate a bit more, then asked: "Did Eddie leave early? I didn't see him again."
Rosie huffed, throwing her fork down. "Probably."
So that was it. Eddie had done something to upset her. Dustin hadn't much of a temper, but it was rising now. He knew something like this would happen.
"Rosie?"
"Yeah?"
"Was Eddie…mean to you?"
He couldn't stand the sadness in her eyes when she answered: "No Dustin. He was never mean."
Dustin finished the water, cleared up the table and began to scrub their plates. The sight of clumped egg and pancake crumbs in the water made him feel sick again, and he poured another glassful of cold water.
"I'm never drinking again."
His aunt forced a smile. "Yes you will. Probably more next time. But Dustin?"
"Uh-huh."
"If you're going to try these things, I'd prefer to be around. Ok? No going behind my back."
"Sure, Aunt Rosie. Sure."
The headache, nausea and fuzziness drifted away through the afternoon. Dustin spent most of the weekend wandering with his friends as usual, or in Lucas' on the Nintendo. November had taken hold abruptly, colder and drier than October. They talked non-stop about the party; who they'd seen, what they'd drunk. Mike declared he might throw one of his own, someday. If his parents let him. Dustin kept up with them, for the most part, but his anger at Eddie was a constant gnawing at the back of his head.
He didn't know if he could be friends with him any more.
Days rolled by, and before he knew it he was packing his DND stuff again. Seven o'clock, the sun was barely up, his eyes bleary. A door creaked open down the hall, and Rose shuffled into view, a thick brown cardigan pulled tight over her plaid pyjamas. It was cold. Last night he had pilfered more blankets from the cupboard for the first time that year.
"Morning." She croaked, not entirely awake.
"Good morning! What're you doing up?"
"I'm not up. I'm just making tea."
He wondered how he managed it, with her eyes closed and hands clutching the cardigan, put she filled a pot and placed it on the stove.
"Did you get your homework done?"
"Mostly, yeah."
"Mostly?"
"There was some history reading, I can do that before class."
"Oh. What about?"
"Just the start of World War I."
"Ah. Poor Ferdinand. Never saw it coming."
"Uh. Yeah?"
The kettle screamed. Rosie took it off and dropped a teabag into her mug, seeming the savour the cloud of steam as she poured some water on top of it. She didn't drink; it was much too hot. She just leaned against the counter with it warming her hands.
"Nine-thirty?"
"You don't have to pick me up."
"I've been picking you up for weeks!"
"I know but -"
"Embarrassed by your little old auntie all of a sudden?"
"No! Never!" He stammered. "I-it's just - Eddie will be there, and I get the feeling you don't want to see him right now."
"Not particularly. But that doesn't matter. Nine-thirty. I'll be there."
Dustin was happy to see that Eddie didn't look happy. In fact, he looked even more miserable than Rosie. With dark circles around his eyes, stubble on his face, and his hair even more unkempt than usual, he looked like he hadn't slept in days. Everyone in the Hellfire Club was just glad he had remembered to shower.
"Ed?" Garret threw a wad of paper across the room, it tumbled down his friend's knotted hair. "I asked if you have beers at your place!"
"No."
"Then you're coming to Warren's?"
"Nah. I think I'm just going to try to sleep, guys."
"You could use it." Paulie commented.
"Thanks, man."
"Psst!" Will waved Mike and Dustin over into a mini-huddle.
"What the hell's wrong with him?" Mike hissed.
Will shrugged. "I was going to ask you guys. Do you think he's sick?"
"Maybe. Warren said he's been holed up in his trailer. Won't come out."
"Well he made it to club. " Dustin pointed out. "Can't be that sick."
"The other guys dragged him out."
Will blinked. "Like…physically -"
"Physically dragged him out!"
"Poor Eddie."
"Not 'poor Eddie'!" Dustin spat. "He's fine!"
Mike frowned at him, then shoved a hand into his jacket pocket. "He even gave me this for just fifteen bucks."
Will gasped at the bag in his hand. Dustin shoved it back into Mike's jacket.
"Put that away!"
"Is that…?" Will was already reaching for it.
"Yep! Garret already checked it. Said it's 'prime stuff'."
"Are we gonna…? How do we…?"
Mike looked down at it. The bag was full of dried greenery, nothing else. "We can figure it out."
"Jonathan told me you can bake it." Byers added helpfully. "Like, brownies and stuff."
"Can you bake?"
"No. But Betty Crocker can!"
"El and Max can help, too."
"Mike, that's a little-"
"I don't know guys." Dustin interrupted. "Isn't that stuff kinda…serious?"
"About as serious as six beers." Replied Mike, raising his brows meaningfully.
"Jonathan says it's cleaner than beer. More natural."
Dustin was still eyeing the little buds skeptically. "I don't know…"
"You won't get in trouble, Dustin." Mike urged. "Promise."
"Can we… can we at least bring Rosie?"
"Aunt Rosie?" Will laughed.
"Yeah. She's cool. A-and she knows about these things. She can tell us how to use it, when to stop!"
"She won't snitch?"
"She told me herself - it's ok if I try these things, as long as she's around."
"Rosie does seem cool." Will agreed.
Mike sighed. "Fine. She's in."
Rosie didn't get out of her car to greet him. Didn't come into the building. She didn't even offer Mike or Will a ride, though she waved as they cycled past. Dustin jogged up and jumped into the car, plastering a grin across his face.
"Heyyyy!"
She smiled back. "Looks like you had fun."
"Yeah. It was super fun."
"That's nice." But she was distracted. Munson and his friends were making their way across the lot to Garret's van. Eddie dragging his heels and staring into the car. Rosie's nostrils flared, and she jammed her keys into the ignition. Across the lot, Munson attempted a little wave, but she sped past.
It wasn't like her to drive so fast. Wasn't like her to ask him to turn on the radio, either. So he didn't. Dustin just sat, feeling the singe of her fury emmanating from the driver's seat.
"Rosie?"
"What?"
"C-can I ask you a favor?"
Her tone softened: "Of course, Dust. Anything."
"You know my friend Mike?"
"Tall, skinny?"
"Yeah, him." Dustin cleared his throat. "He uh… got some stuff from Eddie."
"Stuff?"
"Yup. It's like a…um. Will says it's like an herb. That you smoke."
The breaks squealed. They bumped to a halt at the side of the rode. Rosie's hands squeezed the wheel aggressively. "Eddie sold you drugs?"
"Not me. Mike."
"Oh my God!" She snarled. "That guy."
"I told Mike it was a bad idea!"
"Eddie should have told him it was a bad idea. What do you kids know about pot?"
He let the word "kids" slide. She was upset. "Nothing. That's why I'm asking you about it."
"You haven't done it yet?"
"No."
She breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Oh, that's good. I'm glad you're asking me."
"So I shouldn't do it?"
"No. Like I said before, I just want you to be supervised. We all try these things around your age."
"So you want to…supervise us?"
Rosie nodded, shaking herself out and sitting back up. "Yeah. So I can help."
"Great! I'll tell the guys."
"Eddie, too."
"Eddie?"
"He sold you this stuff. He can at least take some responsibility for it."
