Sunday, November 3rd, 1985

The date was circled with red ink in an under-utilized school planner. I'd spent the whole month not acknowledging it, the October page left unturned. Without the visualization, the upcoming deadline seemed farther off than I realized.

But come November 1st, my life was creeping closer to the bleeding red ink on the horizon. A reminder that in the end, no amount of denial can stop the passage of time.

You see, November 3rd was the arbitrary return home date I had set with my parents. Staying with Eddie was temporary, we always knew that. A necessary sabbatical while we worked towards some semblance of a resolution. Truthfully I'm not sure there would ever be a time that felt perfectly right. Eventually, I just had to do it.

It was a bit scary, committing to going home before the holiday season, when tensions can be at their highest. But I think we were all desperate for a return to normalcy. With any hope, things might be halfway normal. Halfway happy.

Not that the decision brought me any sort of peace.

It had taken over a month to feel comfortable enough to commit to going home for good. The day after the bonfire, my brother took me home for dinner as promised. That night had the potential to be a major setback in our relationship, and in a way it did reframe a lot of things for me. But it was a necessary hurdle to get things moving.

That day I had a wicked hangover, and couldn't even pretend to be happy about being there. Everyone was on their best behavior it seemed, but I couldn't be bothered to play nice.

The house was cleaner than I remembered. Stale. Almost like there was no evidence that people actually lived there. I felt like a stranger in my own home and it had only been a week.

My mom had made my favorite meal, vegetable lasagna, and there was a crisp apple pie cooling on the counter when I arrived. I appreciated the effort, but between the nausea and uncontrollable nerves, I mostly pushed the food around my plate.

My parents were weirdly orchestrated in their mannerisms, tip toeing around the obvious. It felt like the two of them were working off a script, unwilling to stray from their designated lines. From the beginning it was clear they wanted to brush everything under the rug. They didn't want to acknowledge that anything violent had happened between me and my dad. Were unwilling to admit that was the reason why we were having this weird family dinner, trying to force a reconciliation that may never come.

The conversation mainly focused around Chuck's studies, since he was home from college for the weekend. I didn't speak up, didn't ask questions. My mom kept throwing overly enthusiastic smiles my way, watching me all the while.

My dad dominated the entire conversation with ridiculous praises and outdated advice for Chuck. My brother just smiled and took it, knowing tomorrow he could leave and be far away from this mess. He should be so lucky.

It wasn't until after dinner that my dad turned his attention towards me.

There was no apology, no admittance of wrongdoing. Instead I was lectured about how my leaving was immature and irresponsible. How they had been so worried about me, that my decisions were unsafe. Warned me that I couldn't trust Eddie, that people would prey on my kindness. That my attitude was all wrong, how acting out at school may cost me my future. If I wanted to be treated as an adult, I had better start acting like one, the whole nine yards. My mom silently agreed with him, backing up every word.

In the past I might have sat and taken it, changed my behavior in whatever way guaranteed less ruffled feathers and more peace. But that version of me was gone.

I'd rather have uncomfortable honesty than feigned forgiveness. If this was going to work, it had to be a real effort. Something had to change within them, too. So I fought back. Told them exactly how I felt, defending myself in earnest. Said they would have to respect me as an adult, let me make my own choices and mistakes. I begged them to support me in spite of everything, not fight me along the way. Above all, if this house couldn't be a safe environment for me, I made it very clear that I wouldn't be coming back.

The next time my father laid his hands on me would be the last.

Their attitudes changed when Chuck stood up and said very plainly, "You're going to lose her."

He walked out of the room, and somehow that was enough. I needed only one person on my side, someone else to acknowledge that this current chaos was unsustainable.

That may have been the first time I had been brutally honest with my parents, unafraid to speak the truth. It also may have been the first time they actually heard me, loud and clear. There wasn't much discussion beyond agreeing things needed to change. We would test this reconciliation under a controlled environment until it was safe to come home.

I'm not going to pretend like it was easy. There were still plenty of disagreements.

For a while I was hesitant, petulant and unmoved by any of their efforts. Even when there were improvements, in the back of my mind I was telling myself it was artificial. I was highly suspicious that there would be measurable change. I think a part of me got comfortable living my life in limbo, because moving forward meant going back.

It was unnoticeable at first, but something started shifting. My dad went into counseling. My mom learned to speak up. Alcohol was removed from the house.

I went into counseling too, seeing Ms Kelly twice a week at school. It was nice to have someone to talk to that could provide guidance on how to navigate life at home. The most valuable thing she taught me was that oftentimes, we have to grieve the type of relationship we feel we're owed with our parents. Maybe it wasn't completely reparable, but a middle ground could be found that honored boundaries while we found a way to coexist. The most important thing was being able to communicate in an effective way that ensured a safe environment while I still lived under their roof.

Miss Kelly also helped me work through the whole Kurt issue. After an investigation, Kurt was suspended for the rest of the semester. He wouldn't be allowed back at school until the spring. There were rumors that his dad was trying to transfer him to a nearby private school out of retaliation, but it would mean repeating senior year. I pity the poor fools that have to put up with him, but at least I was off the hook for now.

The week leading up to my return date was a whirlwind. I was either a nervous wreck or wistfully ignoring the truth, and nothing in between. The days dwindled, time moved too fast. Eddie and I didn't talk about it much, but it always lingered in the back of my mind. The red ink splotch on the timeline of my life.

We spent the night before lazily in bed, Eddie's worn copy of Fellowship of the Ring in my hands. I was anxious about tomorrow, and immersing myself into the story was one of the only ways I could relax. It was a welcomed distraction from counting how many hours I had left until going home no longer meant going to Eddie's.

In our reading journey, the Fellowship of the Ring had just formed. A collection of heroes from different races all committed to one cause: destroy the ring and end Sauron. I had been promised a hero's tale of fantasy and bravery. No one could have prepared me for all that was at risk, and all the potential loss. They had not yet set out from Rivendell, the whimsical sanctuary of the Elvish people, but for Frodo the journey had strayed from voluntary. He was fate-destined to see this through, to be the one who ensured the destruction of the ring. In a perfect world, they would have found a way to destroy the ring without ever leaving the safety of Rivendell.

I sat at the foot of the bed, opposite of Eddie in between his open legs. One hand lazily stroking his calf, only stopping when I needed to flip the page. Guitar in his lap, Eddie was leaning against the wall while fingerpicking melodies as I read aloud. It had become our new ritual, me reading, him playing guitar. Sometimes I worried he wasn't paying attention, but he'd smile or react to certain moments the same as if I had his undivided attention. He knew the story that well, he could follow along easily. So I let him play, and his plucking became the soundtrack to the story.

Eventually his fingers got tired, and he set the guitar down beside the bed. That's when he motioned for me to hand the book over, come join him at the top of the bed, propped up by pillows. It was an invitation too good to refuse. Settled into his arm, I closed my eyes as he read. He had a way of bringing the story to life in a way I hadn't mastered yet. The words flowed from his lips like poetry. He didn't stop reading until I was fast asleep.

No alarms were set to wake us. When we roused with the sunrise, no one asked what time it was. The clock was overturned, it only served as a reminder that time was no longer on our side. We made love in the daylight, slow and unhurried. Breakfast was skipped altogether, because that would require untangling from beneath the sheets.

When our bodies ached from laying around for too long, Eddie suggested going into town.

I threw on one of his old band t-shirts, a pair of jeans, and a light jacket. My small bag of belongings was already packed and waiting by the front door, and I didn't want to bother rifling through it. We stepped around the bag, ignoring what it meant, got in the van and drove into town.

Nothing ever changed much in Hawkins' little town center, the stores were mostly the same as when we were kids. There was no point in loitering the same stores we had been going to our entire lives, so we decided to check out the Arcade. I hadn't been in years, at some point labeling myself "too mature" for kid games. I'm old enough now to realize I was just repeating what other kids said, in a feeble attempt to stick to the status quo. In actuality, there's no such thing as being too old for fun.

On the drive, Eddie told me about the campaign he had been researching for next semester for Hellfire. There was a new enemy he wanted to work into the story, but he wasn't quite sure how to introduce him. I still was such a novice at DND lore, but I asked questions anyway, always with an edge of teasing him for his dorky habits. I have to admit, I loved when he'd discuss these things with me even if I didn't quite understand. Eddie absolutely lit up when I leaned into the conversation, like he didn't believe anyone would actually show interest in the same things as him. He would talk faster, his voice would get louder, like his ideas were bursting to life and he needed to talk them through to get them right.

"So, this Vecorn fella," I began.

"Vecna," Eddie corrected me, with more patience than I deserved.

"Vecna, right. He's like, a super powerful undead demon fellow that preys on people's darkest secrets?"

"Yes."

"And if your friends don't play their cards just right, they'll be absolutely decimated by him? One by one, until there is no one left standing and they have to accept defeat?"

I was only paraphrasing based on the gruesome details he had shared about the potential outcomes.

"Pretty much, yeah," he nodded in agreement.

"That sounds brutal, Eddie."

"It's not supposed to be easy, Annie," Eddie tried to reason, pulling into the parking lot and cutting the engine.

"It's a complex mission with challenges of increasing intensity. They'll have to hone their skills, each work off their strengths and acknowledge their weaknesses to work together as a team."

"But isn't the whole point of Hellfire… to have fun?"

"It'll be fun for me to watch them suffer," he laughed. "But really, I think there are a couple of ways they can come out victorious. It won't come without its sacrifices, though, and Vecna is only half the battle. I still have some details to flesh out, but it'll be worth it, trust me."

"Just, maybe give them a chance at survival before Vecna wipes the whole party out," I said, opening the car door to exit.

"Where is the fun in that?" Eddie grumbled, as he followed me into the Arcade.

Our last quarters were spent amidst the flashing lights and whirring sounds of ancient consoles. We were carefree and hysterical, ambivalent to the fact that we were surrounded by children much younger than us. I dominated at Ms. PacMan. Eddie fared better at the pinball machines. Before leaving, he pulled me into the photo booth. We kissed like kids behind the curtain until we were caught.

When our bellies grumbled in protest, we stopped in the diner for an early dinner.

After we were fed and sluggish, we headed back to the van. It wasn't yet 5pm but the sun hung low in the sky. We gained an hour when the clocks fall back, but the daylight grew shorter as we neared the solstice. Damn the setting sun for reminding me this day couldn't last forever.

We could have kept going on like this, talking about fantasies, playing like kids. Distracting ourselves from what comes next. It was the perfect careless day, but I knew our time was coming to an end. My gait slowed to a crawl as we made our way back. I was already mourning the loss of my new normal.

I think Eddie could sense my trepidation, he slowed to match my pace. We lingered at the passenger side door. I had quite a way of delaying the inevitable, and I was hesitant to suggest ending the day there.

Eddie leaned his back against the door. He hooked his thumbs through the belt loops on my jeans, tugging my hips forward lightly until I was pressed against him. I melted into him, my head tucked against his chest. He wrapped me in his arms there, holding together the pieces of me that were sure to fall apart the minute he departed.

"Before I take you home, can I show you something?"

Home. The word churned in my stomach.

I pulled out of the hug to ask, "What do you want to show me?"

"It's a surprise. But we should get moving before it gets too dark."

Nothing in his tone indicated where, or what, or how long this would take. I didn't have a curfew, never promised what time I would be home. One last adventure would hurt no one.

"Alright," I agreed as we got in the van, chasing the fading sunlight.

The forecast for the last few days was nothing but rain. Halloween had been a deluge. Kids slugged through the streets with rain gear covering their costumes. Witches in windbreakers and ghosts in galoshes. You could hardly tell who was supposed to be what. Chaperoning parents may have been annoyed, but nothing could dampen the spirits of children collecting free candy.

Today was the first day in a while with semi clear skies. With the windows down to let in the fresh air, we weaved through the suburbs. The neighborhood yards were still decorated with fake cobwebs and rotting Jack o lanterns. Friendly scarecrows waving in the wind from the autumn breeze, a last goodbye as we neared the edge of town.

The Leaving Hawkins, Come Again Soon sign reflected back at us through the glare of the car headlights as we got farther from home.

"Are you kidnapping me?" I joked as we turned down an unfamiliar road.

Eddie laughed. "Do you want me to?"

"I wouldn't be opposed. We're driving West, are we headed to California?" I joked, my curiosity piqued at what he could possibly be showing me that meant leaving town.

"Not yet," he said, squeezing my hand where he held it and shooting a smile my way. "We can't have your parents murdering me when they're just now starting to be okay with the idea of me."

"After graduation, then?"

"After graduation," he agreed.

The path twisted and curved, and Eddie's neck craned as his eyes scanned the road around every bend. He must've found what he was looking for, abruptly taking a sharp right turn to ascend up a hill. The paved road turned to rubble, and we bumped along between rows of trees.

"Eddie, where are we going?" I asked, turning back to look at him.

"You'll see. Just a few more minutes up this hill."

Buried in the shadow of balding trees, it got dark quickly. Peeking out the open window, I could hardly see the space where the road dipped off into a mossy ditch down below. We rode in silence, only accompanied by the sound of the tires grinding over loose gravel. The climb steadily got steeper, the engine groaning in its attempt to push us higher up the hill.

"Are you sure this is safe?" I couldn't mask the concern in my voice.

"Yep, I've done this dozens of times. There's just this rough patch and then it flattens out," he assured me.

The van seemed to be straining to make it safely. I was pressed so firmly back into my seat that I was certain the front tires were going to lift off the ground.

"I can see it in the papers now," I joked.

"What's that?"

"In an attempt at a romantic gesture, lovers plummet to their deaths, found days later in a ditch."

"That's a great byline, do you think they'll let you write the article?" Eddie scoffed.

"From the grave? Unlikely."

"Just trust me and let me have my silly romantic gesture."

"Okay, okay" I relinquished, but not before grabbing the overhead handle for support.

Eddie's word was true, and soon the hill leveled out. Now at the top, we could see a clearing ahead that was still peppered with daylight. The path sort of just stopped, and we got out of the van when there was nowhere else to drive.

"Just a short walk and we're there," he promised as he helped me out of the van.

"I picked the wrong footwear," I pointed out, converse high tops sticking in the mud the moment I stepped out. Under the shade, this hill hadn't dried out from all the rain.

Our shoes squelched through the earth as we headed towards the clearing. Aside from our steps, it was quiet but for the breeze through the trees and the creatures stirring within them. Somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted.

When we emerged from the line of trees, all I saw was sky. The sun was just beginning to cast purple orange ripples in the clouds. I hadn't realized how much altitude we had covered in the short drive up the hill. Up ahead, the ground dropped off to a place I couldn't see. We neared the edge of the cliff until there was hardly anywhere else to step. Beneath a sharp edge of rocks jutting out, it was finally revealed what was hidden beyond.

Standing here, on the precipice of nowhere, was the most surreal aerial view of Hawkins.

You could see the grid of streets that the town was developed on. Near perfect squares, each peppered with flecks of light from houses and lampposts, minuscule and inconsequential. Farther away from the town center, the distance between the lights grew, until there was nothing at all but sparse roads leading out of the town. Cars crawled on the streets, following each other like ants.

From here, it didn't look like Hawkins at all. Under a cotton candy sky it looked unreal, like a play set brought to life.

"How did you find this place," I asked, turning to Eddie.

"It's amazing what you can discover when home is the last place you want to be." His eyes crinkled as he smiled back at me.

"Come on, you can see everything from down here."

Completely fearless, Eddie stepped out onto one of the larger rock formations and held his hand out to me to follow him.

"That headline is getting more real by the moment," I said, my voice shaky as I eyed his hand.

"Do you trust me?"

"If I go down, you're going down with me Munson," I warned. I grasped his hand, holding tight as I stepped towards the edge.

"You're not going to fall," Eddie promised. He made sure I was steady when I joined him on the rock. Then he bent his knees to sit with his legs dangling below.

"Sit with me," he said, patting the space beside him.

With all the grace of a toddler, I lowered myself beside him, holding onto his shoulders for support. Once I was down I kept my knees tucked in close. I was afraid if I dangled my feet, my shoe might defy gravity and go tumbling below. I had to keep all my limbs on ground if I ever planned to make it home alive.

Once settled, Eddie took my hand as we marveled the sight.

"It looks so small from up here," I noted. "Like none of what goes on down there is real. Or matters at all."

"Most of it doesn't, truthfully. But your memories are there. Our whole lives, contained in this plot of land." He gestured, tracing an invisible square around the town with his finger.

"Not my whole life, I was born in Ohio," I teased.

"You know what I mean," Eddie said, rolling his eyes with a sly smile.

He began pointing out landmarks to me one by one, mapping out the town. The Middle School and High School, adjacent near the cemetery. The Hawkins lab, industrial and barren in the East. The plot of land to the West where Starcourt Mall once stood, fragments of rubble not yet cleared. The Library, easily identified by the large clock tower in the center of town. The path we had walked earlier that day, the Arcade and Family Video store. Lover's lake to the North, the drive-in movie theater by the fairgrounds to the South.

I tried to find my street, the house I would soon be returning to, but all the streets of the neighborhood looked the same from up here.

"And that," Eddie said, pointing towards the center where Forest Hills Trailer Park was, "is the Shire."

"Does that make you Frodo?" I laughed. "Because if so, Uncle Wayne is totally Bilbo. A loveable uncle who probably is harboring a million secrets."

"Oh god, you're right," Eddie said. "That man hasn't aged in at least a decade. We should look into that."

"Is that why you wear so many rings? Because you're hoping he'll pass one down to you and it will secretly help you vanish?"

"Damnit Annie, now that you've exposed all of my secrets, how am I supposed to let you out of my sight?" He playfully twisted the rings around his fingers, testing them one by one.

"Oops."

"You know, I don't know about magical vanishing rings, but I used to come up here and imagine just setting off into the woods on my own unexpected journey. Only to Rivendell, though. Not to Mordor," he said with a smile, bumping my shoulder. "I can't tell you how many times I've come up here only to talk myself out of leaving."

"Will you do me the courtesy of warning me before that happens," I said, half joking.

"Warn you?"

"When you've decided to leave, I mean."

"You're coming with me," Eddie said, entirely serious.

I admired his ability to absolutely commit to the absurdities of life on a whim. Dream now, plan later. I, on the other hand, couldn't allow myself to even begin to fantasize without a foolproof plan in place. It all seemed so far off to me. My daydreams were just that; dreams.

But there was a small part of me, getting louder every day, that told me if anyone could figure it out, it would be Eddie.

"Okay."

It was a mini-agreement, spoken just above a whisper. A small act of self preservation just in case the plan was never actualized.

As if he sensed my hesitation, Eddie wrapped an arm around my shoulder and scooted closer.

"I used to feel like I was dying to get out of here," Eddie continued. "Like Hawkins was my own personal hell, perfectly crafted to torture me day by day. And don't get me wrong, as soon as we graduate, we are getting the fuck out of here."

"Off to Rivendell," I agreed with a chortle.

"California, Rivendell, whatever you wanna call it," he said with a laugh. "But for now, from up here, it's easier to appreciate what Hawkins does have to offer. Every time I'm here, I always discover something new that makes it worth staying a bit longer."

I could tell he was watching me as I squinted in the distance, straining to see beyond the city limits.

"What did you discover this time," I asked absentmindedly.

"That Hawkins can't be all that bad if it brought me to you."

I wanted to scoff, only he wasn't joking. The look on his face told me he was entirely serious. It was never my first instinct to assume the nice things people said about me were genuine. I had to remind myself that if I flipped the narrative, the same would be true. Hawkins wasn't all that bad, because it gave me Eddie.

Without Hawkins to set the scene, vignettes of our little life wouldn't be possible. I quietly mused over those places that were the backdrop to some of my favorite memories. The corner table in the library we had been kicked out of more than once for laughing a little too loud. The old drive in theater, in desperate need of repair, where we kissed for the very first time. The musty old gym where we hid beneath bleachers, shared our first dance. The jungle gym in the middle of the trailer park, where sleepless nights were spent pondering the sky and chatting about the universe.

All those inconsequential places, peppered with memories of him. Our story was woven through all of it.

"Anyway," he continued, "it doesn't seem like much when you're down there. But it's a lot easier to stomach from up here. It's home."

There was a spectacular view below, but my eyes were drawn to him. With the sun nearly gone, he was illuminated by the harsh orange glow. The warm light accentuated the sharp edges of his side profile as he looked out over the town. The slant of his nose, rounding of his lips, curve of his jaw. The wind jostled his hair, whipping it around his face.

I looked upon him and knew that in all my greatest memories of this place, a vision of Eddie on this cliff side would be at the forefront.

Hawkins, with all its faults, was home, but only because Eddie made it so.

"You are home," I whispered. "My home."

Eddie took my head in his hands. He lightly kissed the tip of my nose, followed by a kiss on the lips. It was simple and pure, reassuring that he felt the same.

We quieted, both knowing that when we left this spot, things were changing. I wasn't going back with him after this. I'd have to face going home alone.

"What if I'm not ready to go back," I whispered. "What if this is all a mistake."

"I'm not going to pretend like I don't want to keep you all for myself," he said, brushing his thumb along my bottom lip. "It certainly won't be the same without you. But maybe this is just the next small step. Even though you have to go back, there will always be that somewhere else out there."

"We'll always have Rivendell," I said with cheesy sentimentality, which made him fully belly laugh.

"Goddamnit, I love you," he said against my lips.

"I love you too," I repeated back, completing the kiss.

It was getting darker by the minute, but I didn't want to move from this spot. I wanted to commit this moment to memory, the city settling in for the evening below us as we sat at the top of the world. I wanted to remember what it felt like to be young and in love, a little scared but choosing to be steadfast in my resolve.

"Can we just stay up here a little bit longer," I asked, forehead pressed against his.

"Of course," he said with one last kiss. I leaned back against him as we watched the town in comfortable silence.

We stayed until the moon appeared, a crescent sliver on the horizon as the sun settled in for the evening. We stayed until our thoughts were drowned out by a chorus of crickets, no longer able to think straight. We stayed until the temperatures dropped, and my thin jacket could no longer combat the cold. We stayed until the starlight freckled the sky, unencumbered by light pollution.

We stayed until we were ready for the descent, dangerous as it may be. And only then did we make our way back home, uncertain but ready to tackle whatever would come next.

Notes:

Imagine my anguish hitting you with the "we made love" and not describing it in explicit detail. Sorry about that one haha.

As promised, this story will continue with a Volume 2! I have a small epilogue written, that I will update in conjunction with Ch 1 of vol 2 which is in the works and should be ready to go by next week. I'm so excited for where this story is headed so I hope you'll stick with it! And if you're even reading this, thanks for making writing this little story so worth it :)