The air was fucking palpable.
To work backwards, Steve had blown off the handle, then I'd pulled him aside long enough to beg him not to say anything shitty. He shouted something shitty anyway to Eddie, over my shoulder, but then I pleaded and promised to explain later, and he gave up, slipping into a frustrated, silent frenzy in the kitchen. He got to work chopping vegetables viciously, while Eddie and I had taken to sitting in the living room, flicking MTV on to disguise the awkward twist in the room. I'd actually enjoyed watching MTV with Eddie for a while- he knew every song, and apparently how to play every song- because he air-motioned how to play all the best solos. All the while, Steve scowled, lap apron in place.
Finally, now, we were seated at the kitchen table. The pasta had been divvied up, and we were all skirting around the elephant in the room to the point I felt I could hardly breathe.
Steve finally flicked his fork between the two of us, disapproval dripping from his mouth, like a parent. "So, are you two dating or something?"
"What?" I raised my eyebrows, maybe coming off a bit too shocked.
"Dating, us?" Eddie laughed, maybe a little too hard. I gave him an offended glance, but ignored it.
"No, no," We took turns denying, Steve looking between us with murderous intent.
"Then what the hell is happening in my house?" He snapped, wedging a tomato into his mouth angrily.
"Friendship, drama-king." I huffed, forking some pasta.
Eddie was shoveling heaps of pasta into his mouth, in what I assumed was an attempt to be unavailable in the conversation.
"With him?" Steve wasn't buying it.
"It's been known to happen," Eddie defended nonchalantly, food obscuring his words a little. "Hey, this expensive-ass pasta is actually pretty good-"
"Why are you friends with a middle-schooler?" I snapped back, shoving a forkful of food into my mouth.
"That's- that's different." Steve jabbed back. "And you know why it is."
"That is a little weird." Eddie agreed quietly, mouth still full of food.
"Would you butt-out?" Steve shouted at Eddie.
"Don't talk to him like that!" I hollered. "We don't have any friends. You ever notice that?"
Steve looked like I'd revealed his weakness in front of his biggest foe. His eyes were wide and he was giving me the dirtiest look I may have ever received. He waved a hand at Eddie, as if to say- not in front of him! "I have plenty of… acquaintances- that are my age and look forward to seeing me."
"I don't." I quirked my head, not bothering to call out his weak bullshit. "You ever wonder why we have no friends?"
"We're popular, and they're intimidated-" He reasons. But he's losing steam. He's just fighting me, like he always does, just to be contrary.
"It's because we suck." I enunciate.
"I think you guys are entertaining-" Eddie tries, taking a swig of beer.
"Bro, shut up." Steve points a finger at him. "I'm gonna toss this carrot right at your-"
"Dude." I beg. Steve's eyes roll upwards, his mouth becoming a thin line. "I think… I want a fresh start."
"And that- that's who you chose?" He blinks rapidly, nostrils flaring, pointing at Eddie.
Eddie's mouth was full at the time Steve chose to point at him. He lamely peaked up, pesto crusting on the corners of his lips. He tried to stay very still.
"He's cool." I shrug.
"You think I'm cool?" He grins, then chokes on a piece of pasta. I watch him sputter, my eyes lidding, unimpressed. I turn back to Steve, who was giving me a sort of, 'are you kidding me,' frown.
"He's entertaining." I mutter. "But you don't know him. I didn't know him. We don't know anyone. We think we do. I'm tired of relying on just you for everything."
Steve softens. His voice sounds weak, now. But still, annoyed. "I didn't realize I was such a problem."
"No-" I growl, frustrated.
"I'm just- I think I'm gonna head out." Eddie whispered with a nervous smile, squeezing from his chair.
"Stay." Steve and I ordered, in sync.
Eddie sighed in frustration, plopping himself back in his chair, much like a child when they were forced to finish their broccoli. He fiddled with a single ring, spinning it on the table, leaning his chin onto his other hand.
"You're being totally bonkers, crazy, lately." Steve jabs. "I don't know what the hell is wrong with you."
"You don't know wha- Steve, maybe it's the little excursion I went on with your little buddies." I responded, sliding my chair back with a squeal against the floor, leaning forward at him menacingly.
"How does that even have to do with this?" He pointed at Eddie, the apparent 'this.'
"Why is this such a big deal to you?!" I shouted, and Eddie had sunken into his seat, hands running over his face.
"Because I protect you!" Steve shouted back, his own seat screeching backwards, hands firmly pressed to the kitchen table.
The air was still. My eyes thinned, and I felt my heart drumming in my eyes. "You protect me, huh?"
"I- I always have, La. And I'm trying to protect you right now." His voice cracked, flipping a desperate hand up.
"You've kind of been skimping out on that part, man." Eddie mumbled down low in his seat, looking at him flatly.
Steve rounded on him. "What did you say, you hairband-"
"I said you're skimping, Harrington," Eddie reiterated, eyes unblinking.
I took over, Steve's incredulous look boding poorly for Eddie. "Billy cornered me in the hallway."
Steve's head snapped back to me. His expression went from annoyed, exasperated intimidation to steely fury. "Did he touch you?"
"I mean, almost." I withered. "Eddie got there somehow- though- I don't actually know why-"
"Was skipping to go out for a cig." He mumbled for clarification. "It was complete, dumb luck."
I chilled at the realization. "And at the party-"
"I just happened to be in the same room." Eddie nodded again.
"The party? Wha- when- what party?" Steve murmured, eyebrows stitching in confusion.
"Oh my god, you were too blackout to even remember-" I give a small, incredulous laugh. "Billy cornered me there, too- except you were drunk off your ass and couldn't do anything about it. In fact, Steve- I've been protecting you for months, now. Driving you home, drunk. Not telling you things, so you don't go attack someone who'll beat your ass. Making sure you don't die to Demodogs-"
"I get it!" He snapped, cutting me off at the beginning of sensitive information. "So I've been having a rough time. When were you gonna tell me about Billy?"
"We've both been having a hard time." I articulated. "For way longer than I think we've known."
Steve slowly sat down, eyes flickering around the table in rapid thought.
For a short while, it was silent. Uncomfortable. Then, Eddie pushed his seat out, creating an ear-wrenching squeal as wood dragged along cold tile floor. He stretched his arms above his head, just a tiny bit of skin coming into view under his shirt. Then, registering our cold looks, he lowered his hands.
"It's been great, you balls of sunshine, but- I'm gonna step out." He yanked out a pack of cigarettes, twisting them around his fingers, somehow magically gripping just one from the pack. Then he popped it into his mouth. "Great dinner, Stevie boy. Never pegged you for a chef."
"I'll talk to you later." I shook my head, waiting for him to just go.
He got the hint, but despite the current situation, still seemed a little hurt at the flippancy of my cue. "Seeya, Harrington. Bye, Lana."
My heart would have fluttered had I not been receiving an appalled look from my brother.
"Bye, Eddie." I responded in kind, motioning with my hand for him to pick up the pace. He threw his hands up in defeat, before fishing out a lighter to start his cigarette.
"Not in the house," Steve called after him, but Eddie had already lit it, eventually prodding the front door open and leaving with a bow. "Goddamn heathen."
The door shut loudly, and I had nothing more to say to Steve. He didn't seem to have anything else to say, either, and simply pressed his face into his open palms. His fingers wove up through his hair, a nervous habit he'd always had. I felt sort of badly for upsetting him- he really was a great big brother. But there was no reason to go after someone aimlessly- Eddie was harmless.
"I'm just disappointed." Steve muttered. I detected my mother in that statement.
It was enough to illicit a visceral disgust. "Yeah, well, it's not my job to impress you."
I snagged up my plate and rinsed it quickly, slamming it into the dishwasher and almost stomping out.
"He's just bad news, La," Steve insisted across the room. "We've known that. The whole school knows that."
"No one in the whole school knows him." I responded thinly. "Or me."
I turned my stereo on extra loud, and left it that way the rest of the night.