Birds flap their wings as they zigzag across the trees in the patch of woods behind Hawkins High. Their whistles fill the air as they pass, accompanied by the rustles of the leaves in the high branches, filtering the piercing sun rays. A squirrel slithers out of a trunk and climbs to the treetop, sniffing a caterpillar before nibbling on it. A soft breeze completes the scene, making the blades of grass gracefully bend under its blow.
Below the squirrel and the birds, sitting at the picnic table, Eddie lets out a sigh, staring at the empty spot in front of him. It's where Chrissy once sat, the day she came to him for something that could help her sleep. He hasn't returned to this place since the incident, finding the mere sight of the bench heartbreaking.
He can't help but picture the way she shifted in her seat, anxious about the whole transaction, until a smile crept across her face as he rolled off his bench. When she recognized him at last, the spark lighting up her eyes made his heart skip a beat. Chrissy was an adorable girl, probably unaware of the effect she could have on people. But nobody was to witness her bubbly personality ever again.
When Robin suggested to meet at this table, Eddie wanted to protest. He wasn't ready to come back to this spot and relive his last visit. But when he remembered their reason to gather there, away from prying ears and eyes, he couldn't do anything but accept. Everyone saw this table as the table of sins, where drugs and sketchy transactions were done. Eddie used to be the only student to really dare come.
A slam on the table drags him out of his reverie. In front of him, Robin steps over the bench to sit, her hand resting on top of a colorful book she obviously read multiple times from cover to cover. Multicolored scraps of paper stick out of some pages, adorned with nearly unreadable scribbles.
"And a very good morning to you, Edward," she greets cheerfully. "How are you feeling on this very fine day?"
"Okay?"
Robin sighs and shakes her head with a pout, folding her arms on top of the book.
"You're a party pooper."
"I want to get this over with. I hate this place."
She nods and slips the book towards him, pivoting her wrist so that he can read the title. His pupils scan the letters, unimpressed by the title he judges ridiculous.
"Flit as a Fiddle? You're joking?"
"It's a smart pun! 'Flit', like in The Catcher in the Rye!"
He groans, but opens the book to a random page marked by one of the paper bits. He overlooks the words, overwhelmed by what he might discover about himself reading it. Robin giggles at his expression but clears her throat as he looks up, staring daggers at her.
"I've already marked the pages which might interest you, or which match with your situation a bit better. The blue bits are for homosexuality," she says, whispering the last word, "the yellow ones are about bisexuality, and the pink ones are about questioning in general and ways you can figure it out. Green is for the test-like questions."
"That's… scary as hell."
"I know, but it might help. If all the signs in this book point to one thing, it might not mean that that's what you are. It's just a lil nudgey-nudge."
"It's possible to not be what the book is saying you are? How is that going to help?"
She leans over the table and covers his hands with hers.
"You are the only one who decides about that. The book just gives you the definitions and general stuff and criteria about the identities. But if you feel like you don't belong to any of the categories even if the author says you're a perfect match, then you don't. It's your choice."
He processes the words, flipping the pages and catching glimpses at some of the illustrations. Slapping the book shut, he lets out a sigh and slips it into his lunchbox, trying to make it fit without damaging it.
"When do you expect it back?" he asks.
"Oh, don't worry about deadlines or whatever. Take your time."
"You're sure?"
"Listen, Eddie, I know how hard it is to figure that shit out. I've been there. For me it might've been even easier because I knew I wasn't looking at guys anyway and I never felt attracted to them. For you, it's different."
Eddie nods and closes the box as footsteps approach, crunching pebbles under their weight. At the mouth of the woods, Vickie appears, with a boater covering her flaming red hair. When she spots Robin sitting there, she beams and trots up to them, her brown suede jacket fluttering behind her back in the process.
"Hello, Eddie!" her singing voice echoes, catching Robin's attention as she sits next to her. "It's been a while, how have you been doing? Are you still staying in the gym?"
"Hi Vickie. Yeah, same old."
"I'm sorry. I hope they'll rebuild the trailer park as soon as possible. Hopefully better than it used to be."
Eddie grins, but doesn't react to her comment. Instead, he watches as her hand slowly reaches for Robin's under the table, inconspicuous. Or so she thinks. He eyes them suspiciously, amusing his friend as she plants a kiss on Vickie's lips.
"That's okay," she whispers. "He's cool."
His jaw drops at the scene, making the two girls giggle as their fingers intertwine. He opens his hands, their palms facing the sky, while shaking his head in disbelief.
"I feel like I haven't just skipped a few pages but the whole book instead! What's going on? Are you two dating?"
"Since Friday."
"Buckley!" he shouts with disappointment and indignation. "How could you hide that to me?"
"Well, you've been worrying about something else, so… Didn't want to make it feel like I was bragging."
"Of course not!"
Vickie laughs and tilts her head, her beautiful blue eyes underlined with thousands of freckles setting down upon him.
"What have you been worrying about, Eddie? Is everything okay?"
"Don't worry about that, Vicks," Robin chuckles, trying to divert her girlfriend's attention away from the young man. "It's noth—"
"It's okay," his voice interrupts as he folds his hands on the dusty wood. "She can know. She's been there too, hasn't she?"
She furrows her brow and turns to her with a quizzical look. Robin kisses her forehead and smiles, leaning closer so passers-by can't hear.
"Eddie has a crush on Steve."
"Really? Oh that's amazing!"
"If by 'amazing' you mean 'utterly confusing and absolute torture', then I guess it is," Eddie grunts, rubbing his face once again.
Far from being offended by his aggressive tone, Vickie laughs and eyes the book in the lunchbox.
"Flit as a Fiddle?" she gasps. "How nice that you're reading this, Eddie! This book helped me figure it out too a few months ago."
"Wait, you read it too?" Robin smiles. "It's my copy!"
The two girls giggle and peck each other on the lips, their cheeks heating up and their hearts racing. With a finger covering his upper lip, Eddie raises an eyebrow at them, irritated although warmth seizes his heart at the sight.
He's happy for Robin. He can't imagine how it must have felt like for her to fall for Vickie, believing that she would never look at her the way she does now. After seeing her with a boy running his lips all over her face and neck, she gave up hope to ever be able to make a move or even get closer to her. But here they are, in each other's arms and madly in love.
Perhaps he does know what it feels like. Steve will never be interested in him that way. Sure, he did display signs of affection towards him, some he's never shared with other male friends, but he knows how Steve is. He's the protector of the group. The one who only wants what's best for you and who's ready to lend you his shoulder to cry on if something's not right. If a group has a family dynamic, Steve would be the sometimes strict, yet deeply caring mother.
Vickie rests her head on Robin's shoulders, gazing at Eddie with stars still shining in her irises.
"Sorry, Eddie, we didn't mean to make you the third wheel."
"It's fine. Anyway. Can I ask you some questions?" he asks with a hint of embarrassment in his voice as he avoids meeting her eyes. "About how you found out?"
"Of course!"
Eddie thanks her and ponders for a second, phrasing questions in a way that wouldn't be as blunt as he usually is. The longer his turmoil lasts, the better he understands how difficult it is to come to terms with it, especially with a world turned against you.
"What were the first signs you experienced?"
"Well, there was this girl I met at band camp, maybe six years ago. I was sure I liked boys because I was in an epistolary relationship with a guy."
"A what now?"
"We wrote letters to each other," she smiles, explaining the term. "He lived in Kentucky. And every time I received a letter, my heart would just burst with joy. Each word felt like poetry, making me feel like I was a muse."
Eddie nods, unsure whether he fully understands what she means.
"Anyway. I went to camp in Oregon and there I saw this girl, who just turned my world upside down," she carries on, without noticing the smirk twitching on both Eddie and Robin's faces at the two last words. "I just couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat… She was everything I could think about. I constantly wanted to be near her, so I signed up to most activities she signed up for as well, I tried to have my lunches next to her or sit by her at the campfire."
"What happened with her?"
"I never told her anything. Nothing happened. But when we said goodbye, she kissed me on the cheek. I think I refused to wash it for like a week after that."
She sighs at the recollection, tucking her hands between her thighs and relaxing her shoulders.
"I knew something was up," she adds. "I didn't know what to do or where to look for answers. So I told my cousin about it when she visited from San Francisco. She told me about the book and told me that there were others like me, who liked both. But I thought it couldn't apply to me because there were no other girls who made me feel that way, until I met Robin."
"Wait, so you're not a lesbian?"
"No. I'm bisexual."
"Huh?"
"I like both. Guys and gals."
Eddie runs a hand through his hair, wincing as his rings tugged at the knots in his mane. Robin squints her eyes and throws a glance at him.
"Could that be what you're feeling, Ed? Maybe you're not gay, maybe you're bi!"
"I don't know," he says, hardly loud enough for them to hear. "I need to figure it out, it's driving me insane. The book… Does it mention it?"
"It does!" she chimes. "I told you I marked the topic with the yellow scraps."
He nods again and rests his head in the crook of his own folded elbow. Nothing makes sense in his head. Thoughts and questions wrap around each other, forming tangles he feels incapable of undoing. When he thinks there is an opening, something else tightens, surrounding him with darkness and doubts. He pictures himself trapped in the middle of it all, armed with nothing more than a cheap plastic comb with frail teeth.
Somehow, the whole ordeal with Vecna now seems easier to overcome than the constant self-questioning. He cannot stand the feeling of not understanding himself, as though the person he's always been began to disassociate from his physical form, a mere illusion fading little by little.
Vickie observes him with concern, reminded of herself a few years, nay months, prior.
"Did Steve say or do anything that makes you believe it's mutual?"
"He's still in love with Nance," Robin whispers to her.
"I slept over at his house and we cuddled all night," he replies matter-of-factly, ignoring her response. "We hugged as well earlier and he was just acting weird when I was just wearing swim shorts."
"What?" Robin snorts. "How weird?"
"He stayed in his room a long time when it was his turn to change. He said his shorts didn't fit anymore, but he was wearing the only other pair I saw in his drawer. And they fitted perfectly."
Robin cackles, clapping her hands together.
"Holy shit," she exclaims, the pitch of her voice rising. "Do you think he had a hard-on or something?"
"Gross, Buckley," Eddie retorts, scrunching up his nose, although he doesn't dislike the idea. "Is that how girls talk about us behind our backs?"
"Sometimes, yes," Vickie chuckles in turn.
"Damn, and we're the pigs, huh?"
The three of them share a laugh, lifting Eddie's spirits in the process. He rests his chin on the palm of his hand and keeps smiling, the folds in his cheeks deepening. When silence settles between them, leaving room for the tweets of the birds and the buzzing of a flying bee, reality creeps back in.
"So, are you guys ready for the finals?" Robin asks.
"As if," Eddie groans. "Can't have a single moment of peace in the shelter."
"I'm ready," Vickie smiles. "If you want, you can both come to my house to study. That way we can help each other out as well."
"Sounds good, babe."
"Yeah, why not? Thanks."
Hours later, when the sun vanishes from the sky, replaced by the bright white moon, every soul in the shelter is finding rest, nestled in their cots. While snores fill the air, some soft and some loud, Eddie struggles to fall asleep. With a hand under his skull, he stares at the ceiling, wide awake.
Not long ago, it would have been the nightmares which would keep him up. But not this time. All that haunts his mind is Steve and how he can't figure out the way he feels. Remembering Robin's book inside his lunchbox, he reaches out under the cot and pulls it out, trying to remain discreet. Once between his fingers, Eddie grabs his flashlight, stands up and glances around, pressing the cover against his chest in case anyone else might be watching.
The gym's too risky. So are the benches.
Instead, he tiptoes towards the changing rooms, which used to be locked at night until Wayne complained about it, unable to shower before his early departure for work. He shivers as the iciness of the tiles spreads through the ball of his foot, inspecting the place for the perfect hideout.
Sadly, he's pretty good at finding them in times of need.
Finding the showers, remote enough from the gym, he tries to sit down on the tiles, but the cold bites the back of his thighs. Instead, he crouches, leaning against the corner with the flashlight switched on, and stares at the book, remembering Robin's code.
"Blue is homosexuality," he starts to list them, muttering to himself, "pink is questioning and yellow…"
His fingertips graze the torn scraps of paper while the lump in his throat grows heavier. He doesn't know what to expect from the book, although it helped both Robin and Vickie discover themselves and answer their questions. He squeezes his eyes shut and inhales.
"... for bisexuality."
Eddie flips to the pages where the first yellow bit sits and begins to read the words. At first, many of the terms he encounters feel alien. Words he never thought he would read or research about. Yet, he keeps reading with much more determination than if it were a school assignment. His eyes scan every letter, each spot covered with ink, flicking the scraps away as he reaches them.
Once the chapter is read, he moves on to the pink papers, reading about questioning himself. The book presents him with several stories and testimonies about how people managed to find themselves in different time periods and how they identified their sexuality.
Most don't speak to him. But one does. This of a young married man who began to fall in love with his best friend, with whom he went to war. Having lived and witnessed the most horrible side of humanity together, their shared trauma tightened their bonds. Yet, the young man never was attracted to other men, at least not until then. Unfortunately, when his friend passed away from complications linked to one of his war injuries, the young man could not bear it and put an end to his life.
Eddie gulps. That's not how he wants it to end. Could Steve's injury from the bats kill him weeks later?
He's not superstitious in the slightest, but so many things they read or saw somewhere turned out to be true. He doesn't want to jinx his friend. Or whatever Steve is to him.
He slams the book closed and curls up, hiding the book against his shirt and not minding the coldness of the tiles anymore. Whereas some things have become clearer, the whole affair remains a mess.