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6:00:01 PM
"Hey Munson, you're here early!" Gareth called out.
Eddie gave him a high-five as he passed, depositing his patched denim jacket and knapsack in one of the venue’s closets. "'Course. I'm on organizing duty."
It wasn't an official graduation party, but most of their class will be there, as well as some of his lowerclassman friends. The graduating class wasn't big by any means, but there'll be at most a hundred people. Eddie of course was only looking out for one.
"Wow, responsible much? Is that what finally graduating does for a person?" Jeff ribbed, snorting. He was checking the list of attendees again, like a freak.
"Shut up," Eddie laughed. Yeah, so he was held back by a year. It’s not supposed to be the end of the world. It was hard drifting like a nomad between classes ranging from senior’s to freshmen’s, but he had made a lot of friends that way. He looked down at his phone, scrolling through the different group chats and dm’s. As always, his eyes drifted to the one labeled 'The Hair'. He should really change that —
To what? Apple of my eye?
My hopeless fucking crush?
The bane of my existence?
God help him.
He scoffed at nothing in particular and sent out a generic message to the rest of his friends reminding them of the party.
See you later at 8. If you don’t go, you’re a fucking square. Smiley face.
Then he opened up his chat with Steve Harrington. Typed down several iterations of:
hey, i’ll be seeing you later right? Clingy.
hey steve, wanted to confirm if ur coming later. Confirm? Was this a job interview?
where are you? Demanding, reserved for a girlfriend or boyfriend which he clearly was not.
He huffed, settling for: U comin 2 the party?
Still, an undertone of pleading. Always the one chasing.
Eddie exhaled in frustration when the message status refused to change to Seen even after ten minutes. He pocketed his phone, cursing himself for always feeling like a puppy on a leash for this fucking boy, for feeling a little spark of excitement whenever The Hair pops up on his notifications, for feeling something warm whenever a new text comes in. Extra warm if there were emojis. Fucking heart emojis, too, Eddie be damned.
But nothing in this world was as interesting as him. How could he help himself? Eddie was always pulled by the gravity of the chase, of the game. Of the push and pull, the will-they-won’t-they.
Which was fucking funny, Eddie thought to himself, because there should be, but for some fucking reason, neither of them had made a concrete move. Maybe he should, tonight.
Let him backtrack a little bit.
A little more than a month ago, at a little drinking session with their classmates, the only one where Eddie did not go to because he was in fucking Tennessee visiting family, and God, how incredibly cruel fate is —
Anyway, Robin had told Eddie that Steve had told them - them being Robin, Jonathan, and Argyle - that Steve liked Eddie. Liked liked.
Now, at the time, Steve didn’t know about Eddie’s crush, but Robin sure did. He’s all she and Eddie would talk about. Robin was a lesbian, but she was infatuated with Steve in that totally weird, clingy platonic way they had. They were practically best friends, which Eddie didn’t understand. How does a popular fratboyjockathlete adopt a banddweebmoviegeek, or vice versa? Especially since Robin was a sophomore and Steve was a senior. It was one of life’s many mysteries that Eddie likened to Big Foot or the Loch Ness Monster. But perhaps that’s college for you.
Eddie and Robin had a far more conventional connection: they had been bound by the nerd code of being in theater and band, respectively. They had their own little close friendship that he didn’t have with the others, since they were both queer, too. Though he suspected Gareth was a little bit gay.
Besides, Robin had been wingman-ing them ever since Steve and Nancy broke up. Which was more recent, but it would be more accurate to say that Robin had been wingman-ing them ever since Steve and Nancy’s relationship had been on the rocks, which had been more like several months ago. Yeah, it was not entirely ethical, one could say, but Eddie had long accepted that there are things he was willing to be a fuckup about.
One of them, maybe exclusively, being the boy. How pathetic.
So imagine Eddie’s ecstasy at opening his inbox at eight in the morning to Robin’s frantic text messages interspersed with so many exclamation points that she could well have been next to him screaming his ear off.
During a truth or dare Steve picked truth and u kno i hd to ask The Question and STEVE SAID he had a crush on u too!!! OMG. Eddie!!! Help??
Reality came back to him now in the form of a light, chirpy ping!.
The Hair: Course im coming tonight. See u!
Eddie sighed, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest, his nerve endings flaring. A smile fought its way onto his face despite himself.
7:20:32 PM
Organizing and hosting a party was fun.
Eddie got to go around talking to all his friends, but more importantly, he had an excuse to look for Steve more than once without looking too suspicious.
Suspicious, because he forgot to mention that while Steve was a mainstay in his brain, he was kinda, sorta, actually currently in a relationship.
With junior Chrissy Cunningham, who was perfect in every way. She was nice, and pretty, and top of her class. She was athletic, too — part of the cheer squad. On the side she did some debate club thing with Dustin and Mike.
Eddie liked her, he really did. But loved her?
Maybe he really was a freak, because how could he be in this relationship with this beautiful, smart girl when all he wanted was to chase after and flirt with some boy?
He was hoping she wouldn’t come tonight, but obviously, as Chrissy walked in, flanked by muppet-voice Tammy and Nicole whatshername, luck was never on Eddie’s side.
8:38:26 PM
Organizing and hosting a party was not fun.
He’d been pulled into too many shallow and useless conversations he didn't give a shit about. He’s pretty sure Harrington had already arrived, fashionably late as always, but there’s two floors and a fuckload of hallways in this hipster bar that he couldn’t keep track of where Steve was. And of course, he couldn’t be too obvious. He’s still a taken man, after all.
The question all his friends had already asked him was: why doesn’t he just break up with Chrissy? He didn’t know either. Maybe because she was his first real, long-term relationship. They’d been going steady for 2 years at that point.
Maybe he wanted to prove that he wasn’t always a flaker, always the one leaving. Even if, let’s be honest, he totally was. Eddie had felt it deep in his bones ever since he was young. Calling for his mom to make an excuse for him when he wanted to get out of that school play when he was 5, cause he was too scared to face strangers that will be watching. Bailing out of the debate club when Chrissy asked, because he was scared of looking stupid among their peers. Being the first to break eye contact when Steve had leaned in too close as they sat at the back of Theology class, moving away but not quite far enough, when his hand had brushed against Eddie’s.
Running away was always just part of who he was. Which made sense why he was also always the one chasing in this little game of his with Steve. First to leave won’t get hurt, right? Of course, that had its own disadvantages; he was just blocking his own opportunities that he wanted in the first place.
And maybe he was just afraid of being alone more than being in a relationship with someone he didn’t love anymore, if at all. Maybe he was afraid no one would see him the way Chrissy saw him, ever again.
Eddie grimaced, the vodka cran he was nursing much too bitter on his tongue. He extricated himself from the band nerds as he spotted a familiar flash of perfectly coiffed brown hair and red-and-cream varsity jacket.
He’d been trying to talk to Steve all night, practically since he arrived roughly forty minutes ago. But either Steve was avoiding him, or lady luck once again wanted to fuck him over. Or maybe the universe was just trying to put him in his place.
Now there was an avocado-sized pit in Eddie’s stomach, threatening to erupt in acid up his throat, as he watched Steve with a boy he vaguely recognized. He was a year younger, for sure. Tan skin, petite frame. From the track team or some other. He wasn’t even pretty. Eddie was no prom king or pageant queen, but he was definitely more good-looking than that guy. The guy wasn’t even as smart as Eddie, that’s for sure. His voice sounded like a fucking trumpet too. Yet Steve was standing way too close to him, the hand not holding a beer lightly toying with the boy’s flannel shirt. They were laughing, and Eddie’s face heated up, his grip tightening on the glass, and he wanted —
“Hey, there you are, come join us,” Chrissy had giggled in his ear, slinging her arm around his waist, giving him a chaste peck on the cheek.
Eddie released a breath, putting an arm around Chrissy, though he couldn’t tear away his eyes at the scene before him. Like watching a fucking car crash, you just had to drink in the terror unfolding before you. The boy was giggling at whatever Harrington said, and all Eddie wanted to do was sock him in the face.
9:13:14 PM
Chrissy never let go of his hand while she talked and laughed with her girls. Eddie had known to chuckle and interject in appropriate parts of the conversation, but all he could feel was the simmering jealousy overtaking every fiber of his being. It was like being dropped from a great height, which, he figured, Steve had done to his heart. Dangled it in front of him and let it splat! onto the grimy, scuffed floor of the club.
From their place on the benches on the courtyard outside the bar — yeah, there’s a fucking courtyard ‘cause the place was supposed to mimic some sort of homey speakeasy — Eddie tracked Steve’s movements through the big glass windows. He was laughing now, a genuine laugh, from something Robin who was next to him had said. He always found Robin funny no matter what she said. On his other side, Jonathan was animatedly gesturing while he talked a mile a minute. He was usually quiet and reserved - brooding, almost - but Eddie had learned that alcohol really put a different life into him.
Eddie hated it, how he himself was genuinely friends with Steve (they even had their own inside jokes and whatever), but never seemed to be able to fully be open to him like that. That there’s something tucked away in the corner of his ribs where his heart should be.
He remembered how, one night about a few weeks back, after the breakup, he had slept over at Steve’s house. Robin left him with a knowing wink and tailed it, under the guise of some chore she had to do for her overbearing mother. Eddie had texted Wayne that he was staying over at a friend’s. Steve’s dad had come home a little later with a bottle of vodka ‘from some real Russians’, he’d said, and made them take shots with novelty frosted shot glasses that lit up like Christmas lights at the bottom.
They had both been buzzed. Steve’s room was kinda ugly but neat, plaid wallpaper looking like an IKEA showroom. Scratch that — even IKEA showrooms looked better.
“That’s where Nancy and I used to fuck,” he had said, pointing at a tiny one-person bed in the guest bedroom down the hall to his own.
“Didn’t need to know that, thanks,” Eddie replied slowly. He didn't know whether to laugh or feel jealous. He didn’t ask Steve why he and Nancy didn’t fuck in his room. He regarded Steve carefully, whose half-lidded eyes were unreadable. Almost.
They had lain side by side, a good few inches apart, on his extra firm bed, which was much larger than the guest room one, a queen size if Eddie ever saw one. Steve kept a mini-fridge stocked with Snickers bars and Diet Cokes next to it. Spoiled rich fucker.
Steve had offhandedly criticized how his spare boxers looked on Eddie, who’d asked for them cause he was not sleeping in his jeans, obviously. Eddie had ignored him; Steve always had a way of making him feel important and special, and equally like dust beneath his shoes.
It was nearly 2am when Eddie had drifted off to sleep. It was nearly four when he’d awoken to an arm snaking around his waist, the unmistakable press of Steve’s body against his back. Eddie’s heart had hammered in his chest, his pulse thundering loud in his own ears; surely Steve would have heard. But Steve hadn’t said anything, maybe pretended to be asleep, or be really asleep, and all Eddie could think about was slowly turning around and pulling down Steve’s boxers, closing his lips around his stupid fat cock —
And of course he hadn’t. Like a coward, he’d never made the first move. The thing about the chase, while fun, was that to some degree you had to keep up with whatever you were chasing — or whatever was chasing you. Or else you’re just an idiot.
“Idiot,” Eddie muttered. His past inaction was haunting him. He was starting to understand that maybe the regret of not doing something was worse than the regret of making a mistake in the moment.
He realized belatedly that he spoke aloud, lost in his thoughts as he was, as Chrissy looked at him questioningly, while her friends looked at him in distaste. They never did like him.
“Sorry, I was talking to myself,” he smiled widely, rubbing Chrissy’s shoulder where his hand was carefully perched.
She gave him a small smile. “You okay?”
“Yeah. You having fun, babe?”
“Of course. I’m always having a good time with you,” Chrissy said earnestly.
Eddie smiled, tight. “I need to top up.” He brought up his empty glass and made his way to the bar.
10:29:29 PM
The photography club was in the house tonight, snapping photos for the school yearbook and the inevitable Facebook album dump.
“Alright you two, smile!” Jonathan commanded, unlit cigarette dangling from his lips.
Steve’s arm was warm around Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie’s third beer bottle was condensing in the stuffy heat of the bar and making his palm wet and icky. The camera flash blinded him for exactly five seconds. He felt self-conscious of the way his long curly hair looked unruly next to Steve’s artfully sweeped-back one. Eddie had a tiny pimple on his forehead, and he hated the way his band shirt looked so plain next to Steve’s polo and letterman combo.
“Nice,” Jonathan commented, parsing through the photos on his viewfinder.
“Will you be uploading that?” Steve asked.
“Yeah, dude, wait for it by the weekend.”
“Cool.”
When Jonathan had gone, Steve and Eddie turned to each other.
“So, I saw you talking to… what was his name? Timothy? Tommy?” Eddie remarked. Casually.
Steve’s mouth turned up on one corner. Of fucking course it wasn’t casual. “Nathan, but you were close,” he deadpanned.
Eddie snorted. “So are you two uh…”
Steve sighed. “No, Eddie. Come on.”
“Ah.” He didn’t really know what to say to that. Or maybe he wanted to say why haven’t you been looking at me the whole fucking night? Why were you flirting with another boy when I’m here? Why did you tell Robin you liked me, and hugged me while I slept, but never said anything the morning after?
Why do you never want to kiss me?
But all that came out was, “I’ll go look for Dustin.”
11:02:44 PM
“Yo Eds, it’s your birthday tonight right?” Argyle had asked as he puffed on a joint that clearly did not contain tobacco.
Eddie grinned. “Yeah man, the big two-one. I can legally drink in about…” He flapped his wrist once and looked down at his watch theatrically. “An hour.”
Lucas who was next to him had snorted. “Man, you say the funniest bullshit.”
Eddie rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “You’re a freshman, you shouldn’t even be drinking.” Which was to say, Eddie had taught his little freshman sheepies how to drink, of course.
Dustin across the low glass table from him was wearing a shit-eating grin, which meant trouble most of the time.
“What’s with that face, Henderson?” Eddie didn’t even have half a second to find out.
“Surprise!” Mike jumped out from behind him, and Eddie almost hit his face.
“Dude you almost hit the cake!”
“I didn’t even know there was gonna be cake!”
Jeff groaned. “Man, just appreciate the cake.”
Dustin had produced some confetti-in-a-tube from somewhere, popping it excitedly, getting the tiny things in everyone’s mouths and drinks. “Happy birthday Eddie! Make a wish!”
Mike situated the cake safely on the table, the little golden candles dripping already onto the frosting, which Eddie swiped with a finger and licked. Cherry and chocolate, his favorite of course. Warmth bloomed in his chest.
“Thanks. Love you guys, really.”
Jonathan appeared a second later, taking another photograph.
11:44:03 PM
Eddie finally caught Steve alone, leaning against the wall in one of the hallways, strobe lights from the main bar highlighting half of his face, the other half shrouded in shadow. He smelled like stale beer and cigarette smoke.
“Hey.” Eddie clinked their bottles.
“Hey yourself,” Steve replied, smiling faintly. “Saw you had cake.”
“Yeah man, you should have got some,” Eddie said.
They stood awkwardly in silence for a few moments, just sipping their beers. Eddie could feel how warm his face was from the mix of alcohols he’d been drinking since six, could feel the churn of his stomach from a mix of finger foods and beer and cake, or maybe something else too.
If he didn’t say anything tonight, then he would never be able to say anything. They were graduating in just a little over a day, in literal fucking hours that Eddie could add up without using a calculator, and right now he felt like that was going to be the end of the world.
“Robin told me you liked me. Was that true?”
Steve’s face stayed the same, impassive. But his eyes appeared a little too clear for how much Eddie had seen him drink — he swore Steve was doing a keg stand an hour ago — and always contained a look that made Eddie feel like he was being taken apart with a scalpel. “Yeah, it was true. Still true.”
Hearing it from Steve himself made Eddie giddy, even if he had this long-standing feeling that he was losing this battle. “Oh. Well, I like you too.”
Steve nodded, taking a swig from his drink. He smiled again, something real and small. “I thought so.”
“Well why didn’t we ever…” Eddie didn’t even know what he was asking. He fidgeted with his bottle, now more a prop than anything else.
“With how things with Nancy ended, I just don’t think I’m ready for another thing yet.” Steve had said it softly, slowly, but it felt like a fucking dagger through Eddie’s heart. Like a bucket of ice had washed over him, confusing and sobering all at once.
Funnily enough, Steve didn’t even bring up Chrissy, which made Eddie think that maybe not even his existing relationship could have stopped them. But the cards were never on his table. Eddie huffed a laugh.
They stood there, Steve’s back against the wall, Eddie only inches away, stupid beer in each of their hands, air heavy with all the words Eddie did not know how to say.
He tried. "So if you weren't hung up over your ex, would you have asked me out?"
Steve was not quite drunk at all. "Yeah, of course."
"Oh," Eddie said, his heart dropping to his stomach. And that was that. Steve didn't want to do anything with him, even when his words said otherwise. Cause if he really wanted to, he would have, right? What was stopping him?
Nothing stopped him from flirting with that boy earlier tonight. Nothing stopped him from liking girls’ bikini pics on Instagram or sliding into girls’ and guys’ dm’s, which Eddie had seen more than once when they were hanging out. Nothing stopped him from banging Lisa from Spanish or Heidi from Biology a few weeks after he’d cried to Eddie when Nancy dumped his ass.
If Steve had said yes, truly said yes, Eddie would break up with Chrissy right now. Or maybe he wouldn’t, and he’d invite Steve over to his house, and they’d leave quickly and quietly, and he’d let him sober up in his room, or maybe not; maybe in a slightly tipsy haze he’d lick the sweat off Steve’s neck and run his hands under his shirt and press their bodies close.
Eddie knew it was shitty, that he was shitty. But he'd been toeing the line of what was acceptable with Steve for nearly the whole school year now, anyway.
Steve sniffed, gulping down the rest of his beer. "My ride's here. I gotta go, Eds."
"Okay.” Eddie closed his eyes for a moment. “Do you want me to wait outside with you?"
"Sure."
11:56:58 PM
The night air was crisp and cold, a stark contrast to their alcohol flushed hot skins, a storm roiling in Eddie's insides that had nothing to do with the mix of tequila and vodka and beer in his system.
Steve was on his phone, smiling at a text or other, and Eddie was hit with the distinct feeling that this was the end.
Of their chance at a true connection. Of the promise of youth. Of the freedom that the real world simply did not allow.
In a few minutes it'll be Eddie's birthday, and another day more and they'll be graduating, separating and walking different paths forever. Sure, they could always stay in touch. But being confined to the same place often forged bonds that only stayed strong as long as it was confined. Graduating was setting them loose, tugging at the strings till they came apart.
Steve's Uber arrived. He gave Eddie a quick hug, his cologne assaulting Eddie's senses. If only he could sear it onto his memories forever. He knew it would fade away, just like his feelings. But not anytime soon.
12:01:00 AM
"Happy birthday Eddie!"
“For real this time!”
Eddie had gone back inside, quickly engulfed in a group hug consisting of Gareth, Jeff, Mike, Lucas, and Dustin, as they jumped and shouted and started spraying him with a nasty wet mix of champagne and some more confetti which Dustin procured once again from somewhere unknown.
"Dustin! Where the fuck do you keep getting confetti? And where the fuck did you guys get this expensive shit!" Eddie laughed, catching some spray of the bubbly in his mouth.
"Nah, that's just the cheap Moscato," Gareth shouted, spraying everyone in their circle of entangled limbs.
They laughed and jumped and shouted in joy as multi-colors of plastic confetti stuck to their skin, and for a moment Eddie had forgotten all about Steve Harrington.