Eddie yawns for about the fiftieth time since the beginning of the class. Slumped over his table, resting his chin on the palm of his hand, he fights against the drowsiness taking over. His eyelids flutter to ease the sting throbbing in his bloodshot eyeballs. A nudge from Robin wakes him up for good as his arm slips off the table in the process.
"Focus, Eddie!"
"I'm trying."
"Try harder."
Drawing in a deep breath filling his lungs, Eddie stretches his arms and picks up his pencil, lending an ear to Mr. Morgan explaining the differences between concave and convex lenses. He scribbles the words down on his loose sheet of paper, hardly able to understand his own writing after re-reading it.
A few minutes later, the teacher distributes a kit of optical experiment and a small box of lenses per table, instructing them to recognise the type of lenses he gave them and to draw a diagram of each piece. Each student pairs up with their neighbor, resulting in Eddie and Robin to work together, much to their relief.
Robin prepares the experiment kit, eyeing her weary partner.
"Okay, you need to get your shit together," she grunts. "I can't afford failing that class."
"Me neither. But I just couldn't sleep last night."
"The beds again?"
"Nah. Got used to that… I think."
"What is it, then?"
Eddie shrugs and buries his hand into the box, picking up a random lens. He turns the kit on, letting the three strings of light jut out of the machine. He sets the piece of glass a few inches away, until the lights deflect from their original trajectory. Robin squints her eyes as she examines the result, picking up her ruler to draw the diagram.
"I don't understand any of it," Eddie admits in defeat. "I guess I'm just too dumb to graduate high school."
"You're not," she scolds him, giving him a light kick in the ankle. "I think I get the concept, but if you want to be sure to understand it, ask Nancy. She knows everything."
He rolls his eyes and buries his face between his crossed arms.
"Ugh! If I hear anyone mention her one more time, I'm gonna lose my shit!"
"Huh? What's wrong with Nance? She's awesome and saved your ass!"
"I know that, I know!"
"Hey, Munson and Buckley, less talking, more working!" Mr. Morgan interrupts with a fist on his hip. "Don't make me remind you."
Robin nods and resumes her drawing, tracing lines on the lined paper of her notepad.
"For real, though, what's wrong?"
"Harrington won't shut up about her. Everything's all about Nancy, Nancy, Nancy. He follows her around like a fucking dog."
"He's in love with her, what do you expect?"
She picks the pencil up from the paper and gasps, a wide grin drawing itself on her traits. The freckles across her nose accentuate its cunningness.
"You're jealous, Munson!" she squeals. "You're in love with Nance!"
"What the— What are you on about?!"
"I'm right! I'm totally right! Of course you'd fall for Nancy!" she laughs, poking his arm. "Sometimes I wonder how on Earth I haven't fallen for her yet, but I guess that the fact that she's like a hundred percent straight is helping with that."
Eddie groans and flicks the lens away from the light as she gestures at him to get the next one. Again, he sets it down on the white table and watches the streaks break in yet other directions.
"I'm not in love with Wheeler. I'm just done hearing about her all the time."
"Why don't you just tell Steve that?"
"And why would I do that?"
"Well, I don't know, you guys are friends now, aren't you? Friends should be honest with each other. Plus, I think he deserves a good kick in the butt. That would push him to finally make a move and stop whining and pretending that he's not interested in her, that he's changed, that she has Jonathan, blah, blah, blah."
She leans to the side and draws the diagram, explaining each step to Eddie, who lets his pencil scratch her words onto his sheet, hoping that he will manage to make one himself during the finals. He lends her his ear, listening to her every word despite his mind wandering elsewhere.
Every second of the night, all he could think about was Steve. It kept him awake throughout the hours, haunting his dreams whenever he was able to doze off. Robin was right in a way — he was jealous. But of what? He didn't have any feelings for Nancy past the companionship they shared while he was on the run. Afterwards, they didn't hang out much, mostly when Mike came to visit and she either volunteered or served as a chaperone and driver to her little brother.
But her name is nearly the only thing coming out of Steve's mouth whenever they hang out. And to be frank, Eddie is fed up with the endless conversations about whether Steve should make a move or not, especially seeing Nancy's recent displays of affection towards him.
Steve loves Nancy. It's a fact. Clear as day. And it's very likely that she loves him back. Eddie, Robin and Dustin have been trying to make him understand that there were signs that don't lie. Steve could make himself happier by just daring to speak with her, heart to heart. And Eddie would be completely fine with that.
… Right?
Eddie groans and rubs his face aggressively, as though he could wipe the frustration away. Next to him, Robin sets down another lens in front of the lights and asks him to draw the diagram himself to practice.
At the end of the period, Eddie picks up his old beaten-up lunchbox, free of the drugs he used to sell. After that fateful night with Chrissy, he made the decision not to meddle with this anymore, at least not in the near future. The drugs he still possesses he keeps for his personal use and perhaps occasionally to share with friends. But with the close eye his uncle keeps on him ever since the accusations, he doesn't even dare think about them. Two nights of sleeplessness he spent smoking, but it was more of a way to pass time and relax his nerves. He doesn't feel any cravings, not even when Steve occupies his mind.
No. Strangely, when he pictures his friend, however much it pains him, he wants to feel every sting and every gut feeling without artifice. Such an ache he's never known before. Maybe once, back in 5th grade, when he fell head over heels for Tanya Howe, before forgetting all about it a week later.
But it's been over a week. Well over a week. And it doesn't go away.
Robin pats him on the shoulder before walking away with a wave of the hand. Eddie grins at her and heads back to the shelter. The day is finally over. Once inside, he searches for his uncle, but the latter doesn't seem to have come back from his shift at the plant. Shrugging, he shuffles towards the tables set up by the helpers for the students who need to do their homework without breaking their backs on the uncomfortable beds.
He drops onto an open chair, earning a few distrustful glares from other high schoolers. While most middle schoolers have warmed up to him after all the time spent sitting around and chatting with him, unconsciously understanding his innocence in the murder cases, some of the high schoolers present during Jason's preaching against the Hellfire Club didn't follow.
While he would have snapped at them for simply looking at him, he decides to ignore them and carry on with his homework. He takes out his rolled-up Spanish homework and frowns as he deciphers the instructions for the short essay he needs to write. As his eyes scan the bottom of the page, he hears someone sit down next to him with a sigh, slamming their backpack against his shoulder.
Without looking away, his voice cuts through the silence.
"Hi, Max the Blind."
"Screw you, Eddie the Coward."
A chuckle sounds in his throat. Coming from anyone else, the nickname would have hurt him. But he can forgive anything coming from Max. He admires and appreciates her sometimes-brutal honesty and her no-bullshit attitude. Traits they share and feel comfortable enough to joke about with each other.
Once the instructions read, he leans back into his chair and glances at her, watching her take out everything she needs for her own schoolwork.
"What are we working on, today?" he asks, stretching his spine.
"On being cool, which I excel at. You, not so much," she keeps teasing with a cunning grin. "English."
"What book?"
"Tender Is The Night. Fitzgerald."
"Eh."
Max tosses her copy of the book onto the table. With the tip of his finger, Eddie spins it to glance at the cover, before handing it back to her.
"And you?" she asks.
"Español, aparento."
"Aparentemente, dumbass."
"See? I've got my own tutor right here! Shall I give you a list of weaknesses in my Spanish?"
"And you help me with English?"
"Uh…"
"Sorry, I can't seem to find an open spot for you in my schedule."
With a shared laugh, they focus back on their tasks, each picking up a pen to write notes and drafts. Max slips on her headphones and plays a tape on her Walkman, while Eddie takes out a bag of chips he puts between them, inviting her to have some if she's peckish.
As he flips the pages of an English to Spanish dictionary borrowed from another kid at the study table, Max softly hits the table with her fist, shrugging.
"Seriously, does he live here now? Doesn't he have a job?"
He cocks an eyebrow and follows the direction of her gaze towards the entrance, where he spots Steve standing on the tip of his toes, looking around. As soon as their eyes meet, Eddie gulps and hides behind his homework, his face turning tomato red. He tries to focus on the words again, but he forgets what he was even looking for.
Max snickers at his reaction, stealing a handful of chips from the bag.
"Don't worry, your boyfriend's coming."
"Huh? What are you talking about?"
"Why are you hiding from Steve? Did you two have a lovers' quarrel?"
"Oh, shut up, you bat."
Running up to them, Steve pulls the chair on his right to sit on and rests his elbow on the table.
"Hi guys."
"Hey, loverboy," Max greets him back. "Don't you have a job, by the way? Why are you always hanging out here? You didn't even volunteer today."
"I just came to visit. Why, am I not allowed to visit?"
"You are, it's just that you're basically living here now."
"Well, better here than being on my own in a big, boring house."
"Boohoo, poor you."
He shakes his head at her and glances at Eddie, still hiding behind his Spanish homework. Steve cranes his neck, trying to catch his attention.
"Hey, Eddie."
Eddie ignores him, feeling a lump forming in his throat.
"You're okay there?" Steve insists.
"Mh-mh."
Max sighs and yanks the sheet of paper out of Eddie's hands, slamming it on the table and giving him the big eyes. The latter runs his tongue against his lip, cursing her internally. Finally, now with nothing to hide behind, he faces Steve, yet without looking him in the eye.
"Harrington."
"Munson."
"What are you doing here? Meeting with Wheeler?"
Steve cocks an eyebrow, retreating his chin.
"No?"
"Then why are you here?"
"I came to see you."
His heart skips a beat. As soon as he hears Steve's words, he feels ashamed for being so harsh with him. Steve did nothing wrong, why did he have to be so aggressive?
Eddie sighs and plays with one of his silver rings, twirling it around his finger.
"I'm sorry," he croaks. "Didn't mean to be rude."
"Tough day?"
"Yeah."
He winces, throwing his hands up in the air. Although he doesn't particularly like lying, the guilt from lying to Steve is unbearable. He feels it pressing on his chest, nearly suffocating him.
Yet he tries to comfort himself with the idea that it's only half a lie. He did have a tough day, putting up with a horrendous lack of sleep due to overthinking about him.
Steve pats him on the shoulder, nearly startling him. Where his palm and fingers landed, there lingers a pleasant tingle, craving for his touch again.
"Sorry about that, Ed," Steve speaks softly. "I was wondering, um… you know about Robin's plan on Friday, right?"
"Yeah?"
"I was wondering if you felt like hanging out at my place that day? I can come pick you up. We can order pizzas, buy some beers, and just… yeah, have fun."
Eddie smiles from ear to ear, trying to dissimulate it as best he can. But it doesn't escape from Max's attention. Her brows knit together above her scrunched nose. Deciding that she doesn't want to bother with it for now, she slips her headphones back on, listening to Master of Puppets, kindly lent by her neighbor.
"I'd love t— I mean, yeah, sure, why not?" Eddie chuckles. "What should I bring?"
"Absolutely nothing."
"But I'm your guest."
"Keep your money, I swear it's fine. Save it up for yourself."
Nodding with certain reluctance, his mind brings him to raise his fist and awkwardly bump Steve's shoulder. The latter laughs and reciprocate the gesture, assuming that it's a new thing of his.
"I'd love to hang out with you, Harrington, I do, but I have Spanish homework to finish."
"Need help?"
"Did you even pass Spanish?"
"No, but Mrs. Rojas hasn't changed the program at all. I bet she gave me the same essay when I had her."
Eddie shrugs and slips the paper towards his friend. When Steve reaches out to grab it, his fingers inadvertently caress the back of his hand. Electricity shoots through them both, unveiling the butterflies caged in his stomach. Steve's lips part in profuse apologies as he clutches the Spanish homework and forces himself to stare at it.
Pulling his trembling hand away, tucking it between his thighs, Eddie shakes his head.
"Nah, it's… it's okay."
"Still."
He burns to tell him that he doesn't mind in any way, but his brain forces him to remain silent. Cursing himself for reacting this way to a simple touch, he rests his elbow on the table and fidgets with his pencil, painfully waiting for Steve to finish reading the instructions. When he does, his voice comes out as sweet relief, yet disrupted by a tremor even he can pick up.
"It's super simple. So…"
As Eddie leans in to read the words underlined by Steve's finger, his warm breath wraps itself around the back of his hand.
This night at Steve's promises to be interesting.