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Chapter Text

I pressed the button on my Walkman, feeling that fun sort of feeling wash over me as it started playing "Highway to Hell" by AC/DC.

It was lunch. I was sitting alone on the stage, dangling my feet off the edge, headphones covering my ears, and powerful metal blasting into my head at a loud enough volume to fry my brain, but not so loud as to annoy anybody else— at least, not a whole lot. I'd since given up fitting in with any group. I wasn't an athletic person by any stretch of the imagination. I wasn't girly or fashionable enough to join the cheerleading squad or fit in with the popular girls. I wasn't uppity enough to fit in with the other musicians. And I didn't have enough friends to get invited to parties, not that I would even want to go if I was.

The only other group was Hellfire, the only Dungeons & Dragons club in the entire city. I knew because I'd checked. It was run by Eddie Munson, the famed Dungeon Master— famed by anyone who knew D&D, which was, admittedly, very few people. He was pretty much a younger version of Eddie Van Halen, both in looks and the fact that he played the guitar. Maybe he wasn't world-class, but for a tiny town like Hawkins, he was really good.

He was pretty revved up that lunch period. Probably because of all the articles circulating on how D&D corrupted your soul and turned you into an unholy, ungodly, blasphemous, devilish, diabolical, demonic, satanic-worshiping, perverted degenerate. But when he got up on the table, I just had to pause my Walkman.

"We're the freaks because we like to play a fantasy game," Eddie was saying, progressively getting louder as he went on. "But as long as you're into band... or science... or parties," he mocked. "Or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets!"

Jason, the famed, beloved star of the basketball team, stood up at that. "You want something, freak?"

In response, Eddie made a face, sticking his hands up by his head like devil horns.

Mr. Perfect shook his head, sitting back down.

Eddie held his hands out wide, spinning around. "It's forced conforming. That's what's killing the kids!" he shouted in some girl's face, jumping off the table again. "That's the real monster."

Laughing to myself, I replaced my headphones. His theatrics were always the best part of every day. It was refreshing to see somebody else who cared so absolutely little about what everybody else thought of them. Somebody who was completely and unabashedly themselves. I did my best, but I always found it so much easier to just refuse to conform than it was to actively go against the grain. So, I preferred to keep the peace, but didn't let that compromise my own personality.

After such an exciting lunch, the rest of the day was pretty boring. What wasn't boring was watching his two little younglings run around all day, asking the same question of every outcast that they could possibly find.

Well, I assumed so. Judging by the reactions to their question, it could really only be one thing.

When the two of them plopped down onto the bench a little ways away from me, I pulled down my headphones, curious.

The skinny one sighed. "I hate high school."

What a perfect opening.

Casually sliding over closer to them, I gave him a look. "Why? Because you've been running around all day trying to find someone to sub in for your D&D campaign, but you haven't had any luck because everybody thinks it's the devil's game?"

The two of them looked at me like I was insane. "Who the hell are you?"

I held a hand out. "The name's Cecilia. I'm probably the only other D&D player in this entire school." They both shook. "And you're Mike, little brother of the ever-popular Nancy Wheeler, and you're Dustin Henderson— a couple of Eddie's boys. Obviously."

Dustin perked up. "Wait, do you play D&D?"

Rolling my eyes, I dipped a hand into my backpack. "Do I play," I repeated, pulling out a small velvet bag and plopping it in his hands. "Why don't you tell me?"

The two of them shared a look, then eagerly opened the pouch. Mike poured the contents into Dustin's hands, and both of them froze.

The skinny one picked one up. "I've never seen dice like this."

"And you never will," I assured him. "They're specially made. Completely unique. Only reason I have them is because I've got an in with the creator, and she gave them to me for my birthday. Pull these out in front of almost any D&D player, and they're instantly impressed." Putting the dice back in the bag, I took them back. "Helps distract them from when I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing."

Dustin looked at me. "You have to come to Hellfire. Please."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "What, that's it? You don't want to know about my character, my campaign history, whether I'm good or not? You see a set of fancy dice and you're good?"

They both nodded excitedly.

Taking a deep breath, I stood. "Well, alright, then. Lead the way."

Chapter Text

"Ah, the prodigal sons have returned!" Eddie greeted the moment the boys walked through the door. "Have you fulfilled your quest and brought a sub?"

Mike grabbed me by the arm, pulling me inside. "Yep! We did!"

I pulled his fingers off. "Please don't do that again."

Gareth's face lit up as he saw me. "Cecilia! Yes! Finally!" He stood, coming over to give me a hug. "I've been trying to get you here for years."

I returned his embrace. "Hey, Gareth. I heard you needed a sub, and I decided to finally take you up on that offer."

"Well, well, well," Eddie muttered, staring at me with a surprised grin. "If it isn't Cecilia Darnell, in the flesh."

I returned his smile, stepping away from Gareth. "Eddie Munson. I must say, I'm surprised you remember me."

He laughed, standing up from his chair and coming over towards me. "You kidding? The second-best DM in all of Hawkins?"

"Would've been best if she hadn't been forced out," Gareth assured him.

"Forced out?" Mike interrupted, curious.

I gestured to my Walkman. "The party disbanded. Nobody wanted to play anymore, so I took up music theory. Sucks, too, because that left Hellfire in Eddie's incapable hands."

Eddie shook his head playfully at me. "What's your class and level?"

"My name is Lady Aelfsi. And I'm a chaotic good half-elf rogue, level 18," I answered, slowly smirking as I got into his face. "I will sneak behind any monster you throw my way and stab them in the back with my poison-soaked kukri. And I'll smile as I watch them die a slow, agonizing death."

He grinned at me, shaking my hand. "Welcome to Hellfire."

So, after a quick introduction to the campaign... we got down to it.

Eddie looked out ominously at all of us. "The hooded cultists chant, 'Hail Lord Vecna'. 'Hail Lord Vecna'. They turn to you, remove their hoods. You recognize most of them from Makbar. But there is one you do not recognize, his skin shriveled, desiccated. And something else. He is not only missing his left arm... but his left eye!"

Realization dawned on even me, and the entire table erupted into a complete uproar.

"No!"

"Vecna's dead."

"He was killed by Kas!"

Our sadistic DM shook his head, enjoying our anger. "So it was thought, my friends. So it was thought. But Vecna... lives," he announced, slamming the figurine back down onto his throne. "You are scared. You're tired. You are injured. Do you flee Vecna and his cultists? Or stand your ground and fight?"

We all paused to think, but Eddie, impatient, waved us on. "Come on."

I leaned back in my chair, looking around the table. I hadn't fought Vecna before, but they had. It was their decision to make.

Then, Dustin spoke up. "I say we fight," he suggested, looking around at all of us before his gaze landed on Eddie. "To the death."

It was Mike who started the chant, repeating after Dustin, but soon, everyone had joined in. I'd forgotten how much I loved playing D&D until that moment, when all of us came together to attempt to achieve a common goal. It was beautiful, and nothing like that ever happened in real life. In D&D, magic was real, and elves, and dragons, and we got to carry weapons and fight monsters and go on exciting adventures. It was... perfect.

Well, until it wasn't.

"Time-out, time-out!"

All of us gathered in a huddle, out of earshot of Eddie.

"Guys, I hate to say this, but we've got to flee," Gareth insisted.

Everybody else started nodding their heads, but I didn't. "Didn't we just agree 'to the death'?

Gareth gave me an incredulous look. "That wasn't literal!"

"Vecna just decimated us," Jeff reminded me. "We can't kill him with two players."

"You, too?" Dustin complained, on my side. "He only has 15 hit points left. Don't be pussies."

That didn't go over well with Gareth. "Pussies? Really? 'Cause we're not delusional?"

"Look, Gareth, I may be delusional, but that does not mean I'm not fully capable of kicking this bitch's ass," I challenged. "You should know at least that much."

"Hey!"

We all turned around to look at Eddie, who seemed to be enjoying himself very much. "If I may interject, gentlemen, Lady Aelfsi. Whilst I respect the passion, you'd be wise to take Gareth the Great's concern to heart. There is no shame in running. Don't try to be heroes. Not today, 'kay?"

Dustin paused, holding up a finger. "One sec."

And then we were back in the huddle.

David looked around at all of us. "What do you think?"

"I think he's taunting us, and it makes me want to kill Vecna that much faster just to stick it to him," I answered with a broad grin.

Mike ignored me, turning to his friend. "How many hit points do you and Aelfsi have left?"

"Twelve," Dustin and I answered in unison.

He considered that, shaking his head. "It's risky as hell. But you're the ones on the battlefield. So it's your call."

Dustin glanced at me. "What do you say, Lady Aelfsi?"

I smirked. "You really gotta ask?

He nodded slowly. "Screw it," he announced, breaking from the huddle. "Let's kill the son of a bitch!"

Jeff shook his head. "The chances of success are 20-to-1."

Dustin held up a hand. "Never tell me the odds."

I glanced between the two of them. "Duly noted, but, personally, I like knowing the odds."

He looked at me. "Why would you do that to yourself?"

Shrugging, I put my hands on my hips. "So that I know exactly how awesome I am when I win in spite of them."

Eddie held back a grin. "Awfully confident."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "That a problem?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Absolutely not. Henderson. It's your move."

Dustin held out his hand. "Give me the D20."

I reached over, grabbing my special pouch of my special set, and handed him the die. "You need all the luck you can get."

He nodded to me. "Yep. Thanks. Well, here goes nothing."

And then he rolled it.

As it slowly came to a stop, Eddie checked the number that came out on top. "That's... a... miss!"

I slammed a hand on the table. "No!"

"Shit!" Dustin shouted. "Shit!"

Mike grabbed my shoulder. "It's all up to you. You have to do this. Come on!"

I took a deep breath, examining the board. Rolling dice was a game of luck. There was only one way to get the number you wanted, and it was by cheating. But, sometimes, the universe was on your side, and your hand, the table, and the die all came together to give you exactly what you needed. But when it counted... there was always something I fell back on, just in case.

I glanced up at Eddie. "You remember the last campaign we did?"

His mouth broke out in a wide grin. "You mean, the one where you needed to roll a nat 20, otherwise we'd all die, and then you did?"

I nodded. "And then I gave the D20 to you as the proverbial torch to be passed on. You still got it?"

Shaking his head, he reached into his stuff, pulling it out and tossing it to me. "You really think that's gonna help you?"

"What can I say, I'm superstitious," I responded, shaking it in my hands. "A regular Stevie Wonder."

And then I rolled it.

Time seemed to slow down as it bounced across the table, flipping over itself again and again, giving no indication of when it was going to stop. The entire room froze, watching it go, as if holding our breath and crossing our fingers and wishing with every ounce of our souls would actually help. Everybody was screaming at me, at the die, at Eddie, at each other— I didn't know what the hell they were saying. I was far too focused on not fucking the whole thing up for all of them.

They were all crowded around me, their entire excruciatingly long campaign riding on the saving throw of a random girl off the street who they'd just met that day. If I screwed it up — if I rolled less than what I needed? Well, it was a lot to put on something I had no control over.

But, then, it started slowing down. Rolled its last couple of times, flipped through the last preview of numbers until it finally landed on the only one that meant anything.

"Nat 20!" I shouted, throwing my fists into the air triumphantly.

Immediately, everybody in the room started celebrating. They were high-fiving, hugging, screaming, laughing, hitting each other on the back, the whole deal, and all because of a tiny little die. That was the point. That was what D&D was all about. I'd almost forgotten.

Eddie jumped up on the table, reaching a hand out to me with a wink. Smiling, I took it, allowing him to pull me up next to him.

He took hold of my hand, raising it into the air. "Three cheers for Lady Aelfsi, Vanquisher of Vecna!"

I couldn't help the broad grin on my face as they all cheered for me. It was the most fun I'd had in ages.

Chapter Text

"See you guys after break!" Mike called, running to get in his mom's car.

Gareth turned around to look at Eddie. "Hey, maybe she can DM our next campaign. Y'know, we gotta figure out who's better. Since you won't take my word for it, I guess we've got to put it to a vote."

I laughed. "Do you still honestly believe that I'm better than Eddie? I mean, you're right, but I'd've thought you'd have more loyalty."

Jeff smirked, nodding. "Well, he might not, but I do."

Dustin hit him in the shoulder. "Hey, don't forget that she's the one who saved all our asses today."

They walked off towards their own respective rides.

"Hey," Eddie called, stopping me. I turned around to face him. "That was fun."

I smiled warmly at him. "Yeah. Yeah, it was."

He put one hand in his jacket pocket, rubbing his face with the other one. "Lady Aelfsi really fits in with the party."

"Too bad she's just a sub," I reminded him innocently.

He scratched his head, looking at me. "You wouldn't happen to want to become a permanent member, would you?"

I raised my eyebrows. "I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you correctly. Can you repeat that?"

Eddie smiled, strutting forward to stand in front of me. "Join Hellfire. For real. Please."

I looked up at him. "You mean it?"

He nodded. "Hell yeah! As long as you don't mind being the only girl."

"As long as you don't mind me being better than everybody else," I shot back.

He grinned. "I'm counting on it."

That surprised me a little. "What do you mean?"

He looked at me for a moment, then spun around with his arms out wide. "Why did we ever stop hanging out?"

Breathing a laugh, I shook my head at him. "We never hung out in the first place, Eddie."

"Oh, but Darnell, we could've," he interjected, pointing at me. "We could've. All the signs were there. We both played D&D, we both liked music, we both—"

"Never actually tried to reach out," I reminded him, messing with my hands. "Look, I've always thought you were cool. And the way you play the guitar? I admire you immensely. But, the fact remains that we never really ever talked to each other before today."

He nodded, looking off to the side. "Yeah, I know. It's just— I wish we had." Suddenly, he jumped forward, taking hold of my hand. "Well, there's no time like the present."

I laughed as he started pulling me along behind him. "Eddie, wait! Where are we going?"

Abruptly, he sat me down on a bench, sitting next to me. "Well, first things first. What's your middle name?"

I tucked my hair behind my ear. "Actually... I have two."

He smiled, raising an eyebrow. "Two middle names?"

I glanced at him. "Um... Cecilia Opal Lilah Darnell."

Eddie nodded slowly. "Wow. I've gotta be honest with you, Darnell, that's the most un-rockin' name I've ever heard."

"Yeah, well, it's all family names," I explained. "Opal's the name of my mom's mom, Lilah is some from... aunt, I think, and, well, Darnell. But, Cecilia— now, that comes from the Saint."

He full-on laughed at that. "The Saint?"

Smiling, I nodded. "Yeah. Saint Cecilia, the Patron Saint of music and musicians."

His eyes narrowed as he considered that. "Well, I guess that's rockin' in a Catholic sort of way."

"You want to know something actually rockin' about me?" I asked.

Eddie's curiosity was clearly piqued. "What is it?"

I bit my lip to keep from grinning. "My birthday."

"When's your birthday?"

I shrugged nonchalantly. "October 31st."

He gave me an incredulous look. "Your birthday's Halloween?"

My smile finally broke through. "Yeah. It's pretty awesome, actually."

"It's totally awesome!" he agreed enthusiastically. "My birthday's May 13th, which is boring."

"Not boring," I corrected, "just not as cool as Halloween."

He nodded. "Do your parents think it's cool?"

I shook my head, looking out into the night sky. "Nah, my parents aren't big fans of it, actually. They were never big into anything I thought was fun. The first time I picked up a guitar, I got lectured about not 'succumbing to the devil's music'. And don't even get me started on how mad they were when I first started playing D&D."

Eddie looked over at me. "How do you get around all that?"

Shrugging, I leaned forward, bracing my elbows on my knees. "Well, when I'm at home, it's mostly just... not talked about. My mother doesn't comment on my clothes, my father doesn't comment on my, y'know, my face, and I pretty much hide everything else. But, since it's exhausting to always be walking on eggshells, I've gotten really good at finding other places outside of my house to hang out. Y'know, there's a spot in the woods that has these insane natural acoustics, and it's far enough away from everybody else that nobody hears you."

He was quiet for a little bit. "You spend a lot of time on your own, don't you?"

I turned towards him, unsure what he was implying. "Well, as I'm sure you know, this town doesn't exactly like people who are different. And I figured out early on that it was easier to just stay away than it was to be constantly tormented. I guess... I guess that's just a hard habit to kick."

He playfully punched me in the arm. "Well, now you've got us, here at Hellfire."

"And I'm glad for that," I assured him, straightening up. "I just wish I'd had the courage to seek it out sooner."

Eddie's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

I took a deep breath, looking down at my hands. "Your band, Corroded Coffin... you play at The Hideout on Tuesdays. And I know that because I show up almost every week to hear you guys play. Now, you wouldn't know that because I— I still haven't— haven't worked up the courage to go inside yet. I just sorta sit on a bench just outside and listen."

He gave me a confused look. "Why don't you come in?"

"Well... I was embarrassed," I said.

"Embarrassed to be seen with me?"

"Oh, God, no," I corrected immediately. "Embarrassed to be seen by you, really. I mean, you're really good at the guitar, and it's, like, the only place in town you can actually hear good live music, but... I don't know, I always sort of felt like I shouldn't be there because I didn't know you very well."

In one swift motion, Eddie got up from the bench and kneeled down in front of me, clutching my right hand in his. "I am personally inviting you to come watch my band on Tuesdays. And you have to show up every single time, you hear me?"

I laughed at his theatrics. "And what happens if I don't?"

He dropped my hand like it had burned him, standing up with a mock betrayed look on his face. "I'll be so offended I don't know if I'll ever speak to you again."

I got to my feet, too. "Well, then, I suppose I'll have to clear my Tuesdays, because we wouldn't want that."

Breathing a laugh, Eddie looked down at me with an odd expression on his face. I waited for him to say something, but as the silence grew longer, he became more and more serious.

Just as I was about to ask him what was up, he spoke. "Why do you care what people think?"

The question caught me by surprise. "I don't really care what 'people' think. The assholes on the basketball team can bite me, and the 'holier-than-thou' band kids, and same thing with those prissy cheerleaders."

"They're not all bad," he corrected me.

I raised an eyebrow. "No?"

Eddie shook his head. "Earlier today, Chrissy Cunningham wanted to buy drugs off of me. Chrissy Cunningham, can you believe it? She was really nice, too. And then, now, I've got to meet up with her later because I didn't have anything strong enough on me."

"Woah," I breathed, not quite believing it. "Chrissy Cunningham is cool. What a world we live in."

He nodded. "Yeah. But, if you don't care what anybody thinks, then why would you be embarrassed to be seen by me?"

"Well, I care what you think," I clarified, looking up at him.

He tilted his head, confused. "Why?"

I shrugged. "Because you're cool."

Considering that, he took a step forward, smirking conspiratorially. "Do you want to know what I think?"

Curious, I searched his gaze with a smile. "Do tell."

Eddie took a deep breath, and then he pressed his lips against mine.

Immediately, I froze, my brain refusing to process what was happening. I hadn't expected it at all, and I didn't know what to do. I didn't know whether I should kiss him back, or if I even wanted to, and I couldn't even begin to make that decision because my mind was so preoccupied with why he was even kissing me in the first place.

Before I could get my shit together, he pulled back, grinning broadly. "I think you're pretty cool, too."

And then he walked away.

I stood there until his car was pulling out of the parking lot. Then, I sat back down on the bench for a little while, trying to get my heart to stop beating so fast.

Chapter Text

I got out of bed the next morning, stretching my arms above my head. The night had given me some perspective. Not a lot, not nearly enough to reach a conclusion, but some. Enough for me to realize that I probably wouldn't get anywhere just thinking about it. No, I needed to talk to him again.

My plan was to do just that. I got dressed and ready, planning on driving over to Eddie's house, but... under what pretense? To do what? Kiss him the second he opened the door, just to see? Explain to him how I was feeling, as if he'd be able to help me? Maybe I could just ask what it meant to him, because that would afford me something. But it could also just embarrass me.

Still undecided, I walked out into the living room, where my parents were watching the TV. Vaguely curious, I glanced at the screen, instantly confused when I saw it was the news. My parents never watched the news. Well, not often. Not unless something serious had happened.

"We're in the Forest Hills trailer park in east Roane County. We don't have a lot of details now, but we can confirm that the body of a Hawkins High student was discovered early this morning. Police have not released the name, although we are told they're currently in the process of notifying the family."

My eyes widened. That was where Eddie lived. The news man was right in front of Eddie's house. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Was he— no. No, he couldn't be dead. There was no way. It had to be somebody else.

I thought back to what Eddie had said the night before. He— he was going to meet up with Chrissy. For drugs. Because he didn't have anything strong enough on hand... if that was Chrissy in his house, if that was her, and if he....

But he wouldn't. He couldn't. Eddie Munson was a good person, a funny person, a sweet and kind and nice person. Maybe he talked a big game to the people who treated him like an outcast, but he would never actually hurt them. And he liked Chrissy. He told me so himself.

"Mom, I'm going out," I informed her, making my way towards the door.

She turned sharply to look at me. "No, you're not. You're not going anywhere. There's a killer out there."

I reached into the drawer where we kept all of our collective keys. "I'll be careful."

"You're not taking my car!" she called shrilly after me.

Pausing, I considered that. "Fine," I responded, and I grabbed a different set of keys.

I couldn't go to his house, obviously. The cops would want to know why I was there, and besides, Eddie wouldn't be anywhere near there if he was smart, and he was. I grabbed my helmet and put it on, still deliberating. Where would he go if he was in trouble? I didn't know him well enough to know that.

But I knew who did.

I climbed onto the motorcycle, not wasting any time in taking off the sidecar. I was a bit nervous, but I needed to get to Dustin's house, and it was too far away to walk. I'd driven the motorcycle enough to know what I was doing, but it didn't stop me from feeling that pit in my stomach over being so unprotected.

I drove semi-recklessly, but there weren't many cars out, so it was fine. I needed to get to him, and fast. He'd know what to do. If I told him what I knew, what had happened... he had to know what to do. Otherwise... well, I had other options, but they would take a lot longer.

When I finally got to his house, I parked out front, walking up to the front door and knocking. "Henderson!"

The door opened surprisingly fast, startling me. "Ah, damn it. It's you. For a second there, you sounded like Eddie."

I nodded quickly. "Great. Fun. Yeah. Speaking of Eddie, we gotta find him. Look, knowing your mom, the news has been on all morning, so I'll cut to the chase— I think it was Chrissy who died, and I'm almost completely positive Eddie did not do it, but either way, we gotta find him."

A girl pushed past him, looking up at me. "How do you know that?"

Max Mayfield. "He told me yesterday that they were meeting up because she was looking to score some drugs. And it was Eddie's house on the news. And you live right across from him, so if anyone knows anything, it's you, so please God tell me you know something."

She looked at me like I was slightly insane, but nodded. "I saw Eddie with Chrissy last night. He drove off really quickly at some point, and his face— he looked scared. And I saw her body this morning. It's definitely her, but—"

"Eddie didn't do it," Dustin interjected. "He didn't. We think— we think something else did."

I spread my arms out. "Great. What?"

Max shook her head. "I don't know. But we've got some friends who might."

"Perfect," I said as I turned around, instantly glad for the sidecar. "Hop on."

Max followed me easily, but Dustin held back. "Is this thing safe?"

Breathing a laugh, I got on the bike. "Look, if you're worried, you can take the sidecar. So long as that's good with you," I asked Max.

She nodded, climbing up behind me. "Yep. I'm good. Let's go."

Grumbling, Henderson got into the sidecar. "The Family Video store, and try not to get us all killed."

Pulling on my helmet, I smiled to myself. "Promise."

And then we were off.

We made it to the store in record time, again. The news was probably filling the town's heads with shit about how we all needed to stay inside and lock the doors and windows, and most of them probably took that recommendation as law, which would account for the significant lack of traffic. But, that was better for me. Less of a chance to hit anything — or anyone.

We got there all in one piece, though Dustin did seem a little bit freaked out as he got out of the sidecar. "You're a maniac."

Taking off my helmet, I stared at him. "Your friend is missing, and implicated in a murder. God forbid I try to make sure he's alright before it's too late."

Suddenly, the door to the Family Video store opened, showcasing a guy with great hair, staring at me with wide eyes. "Hello."

I breathed an incredulous laugh at Steve Harrington seeming completely incompetent over just seeing a girl on a motorcycle.

A head popped up over his shoulder. "Ignore him, he gets over-excited when he sees— wait, Cecilia?"

Smiling, I tucked my helmet under my arm, swinging my leg off of the motorcycle. "Robin Buckley, in the flesh."

She shoved past Steve, ignoring his grunt of pain and coming over to stand in front of me. "I didn't know you could ride a motorcycle."

"I didn't know you worked here," I countered. "Or that you were friends with pretty boy over here."

She glanced back at him. "Yeah, it's... it's a long story. Anyway, what are you guys doing here?"

"Yeah, and did you see the news?" Steve added

Dustin sighed, shoving past the poor guy once again to get into the store. "How many phones do you have?"

Pretty boy followed, and so did the rest of us. "Someone was murdered."

"How many phones do you have?" Dustin repeated more insistently.

"Two. Why?"

"Technically three, if you count Keith's in the back," Robin corrected.

Max looked at Dustin and I. "Yeah, three works."

Dustin immediately started taking off his backpack.

Steve gave him a confused look. "What are you doing?"

Abruptly, he slid the bag over the counter. It knocked over a pile of stuff, then slid to the ground with a thud.

"My pile!" Robin cried, jumping out of the way.

Then, Dustin himself followed, his legs kicking over a bunch of tapes in the process.

"No, no, no, my tapes!" Steve shouted, confused and annoyed. "Dude. What are you doing, man?"

He sat down at the computer. "Setting up base of operations here," he said by way of explanation, as Max walked around the counter like a sane person.

Robin glanced at him, bending over to clean up the mess he'd made. "Base of operations?"

Pretty boy scoffed. "Stop. Get off of that."

Dustin shoved him away. "No, I need it."

"Need it for what?"

"Looking up Eddie's friends' phone numbers," I cut in, trying to pull his attention away from the kid and let him work, but it didn't work.

Steve rounded on him. "Oh, Eddie. Your new best friend Eddie, who you think is cooler than me because he plays your nerdy game?"

Dustin groaned. "Yes," he answered, before processing what he'd actually said. "I never said that."

Robin shook her head, continuing to organize things. "Seriously, guys, maybe on a— a Monday you can play around in here like toddlers, but it's Saturday. It's our busiest day."

"Okay, look, Robin, I totally empathize, but this cannot wait until Monday."

Steve covered his face with his hands. "Oh my God."

She raised her hands in a confused gesture. "What, calling all of Eddie's friends is an emergency?"

"Correct!" Dustin shouted back, writing down a bunch of names onto a whiteboard, along with phone numbers.

Pretty boy turned around to help his coworker clean up. "Want me to strangle him or do you want to?"

I set my helmet down on the counter. "Alright, look. You've seen the news, right? The kid who died? Well, I had a feeling, but Max saw it for herself— the kid was Chrissy. Chrissy Cunningham. And she died in Eddie's house. Now, I know for a fact that she was there because she was buying drugs off of Eddie, and I also know that he liked her, and he never would've hurt her. Now, Max saw him leave in a hurry, looking scared out of his mind, and no one's seen him since. Considering the fact that he didn't kill her, and no one else was in the house with them... something obviously happened. But the police probably think he did it, so they'll be looking for him, and once those stupid basketball players and cheerleaders find out, there'll be a giant manhunt on our hands, not to mention the fact that nobody even knows if Eddie's okay. So, the main plan right now is to figure out where Eddie is so we can talk to him and figure out what happened, and go from there."

Steve and Robin shared a fearful look, then they both turned to the two kids. "You guys don't think—"

"I don't know what to think," Max responded, grabbing the phone and dialing. "But if Eddie didn't do it, something else must've, and unfortunately, that's all I've got to go on."

Steve glanced at Dustin. "But... but we closed it. It's over."

He stood up as well, grabbing the other phone. "Well, we closed it before, and it got opened again then, too."

Robin looked up at her coworker. "Russians?"

I breathed a laugh, confused. "Robin. Honey. Russians? What the hell are you guys even talking about?"

Pretty boy turned to me. "Who even are you?"

"That's Cecilia," Robin answered for me. "She's a friend of mine from band."

His eyes widened as he looked at her. "Wait. A friend from band? Is she... y'know...." His voice trailed off suggestively.

I shook my head. "No, that's Vickie. Although we do both play the clarinet."

Robin looked at me, looking like a deer caught in headlights. "What? You— you know?"

Silently cursing myself, I tucked my hair behind my ear. "Okay, look, anybody who knows anything about... that... knows that you have a crush on— knows who you have a crush on. Fortunately for you, the only people who know about that are the people who're either in the same boat as you, or completely okay with it. The people that aren't okay with it usually don't care enough to actually pay attention to the signs."

She shook her head slowly. "But— why didn't you say anything?"

I shrugged. "Well, it wasn't that big of a deal to me, and I figured you'd tell me when you were ready. I didn't want to take that away from you. I feel like such an ass now, I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's fine," she assured me. "Honestly, I'm glad I can talk to someone else about it. No offense, but sometimes Steve can be a little—"

"Yeah, I get it," I interrupted with a smile. "But he's definitely a lot better than he used to be. Y'know, he's really grown up in the past few years."

Steve looked at me like I was insane. "Okay, how do you know so much about me when I don't even know who you are?"

I scrunched up my nose at that. "Ouch. But I'm not really surprised. Not many people know me."

"Damn it," Dustin sighed, setting the phone back down and crossing off a name. "Robin, grab that other phone and get cracking."

She whipped around. "On it."

And so the mania began. Robin, Max, and Dustin, making phone calls, crossing off names, getting absolutely nowhere. Steve, attending to the customers, and roping me into helping out when I was calm enough to actually help. But most of the time, I was just trying not to freak out. I had a feeling, a gut feeling, that something was really wrong. Something I didn't even know anything about. Maybe the rest of them knew something I didn't, and the more I thought about it, the more likely it seemed, but... if it was bad, Eddie was probably in even more trouble.

Then, Max hung up the phone. "Hey, guys, I might have a lead."

Both Dustin and Robin immediately hung up their phones, and all three of us turned to her.

"Seriously?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Apparently, Eddie gets his drugs from some guy named Reefer Rick, and sometimes Eddie crashes there."

"That sounds promising," Robin commented. "Um, where does this Reefer Rick guy live?"

Max closed her eyes. "See, that's the thing. No one knows. He's more of a— a legend than someone that people actually know.

"What about a last name?" Dustin suggested.

She shook her head. "I don't know that either."

Steve sighed, messing in a box of tapes. "Bet the cops know the last name."

I looked at him. "What?"

"The cops," he repeated, coming over to lean against the counter. "I mean, listen, if this Reefer Rick is actually a drug dealer, I guarantee you he's been busted at some point. Means he's in the system."

Dustin looked at him like he was an idiot. "The cops? Really, Steve? That's your suggestion?"

Pretty boy shrugged. "I mean, I just think at this point they should probably be filled in on what we know, what's going on."

I blinked. "You think Eddie's guilty, don't you?"

"Whoa," he said, offended. "I believe in innocent until proven guilty, all that constitutional shit. I just, you know... I just don't think we can rule it out."

Max narrowed his eyes at him. "That's precisely what we're trying to do here, Steve."

Dustin nodded, giving him a look. "And maybe we'd have a little bit more luck if you spent less time trying to find a girlfriend and more time trying to find Eddie."

Steve straightened up. "Somebody has to attend to the customers."

"Especially if they're babes, right?" Robin clarified, winking.

He pointed to her. "Hey, not fair. Okay? I attend to all customers equally, babes and non-babes alike," he assured us, as a customer walked in behind him, which he ignored completely. "We've got a very big selection in here. It can be super overwhelming for people."

I could practically see the lightbulb go off in Robin's brain. "Yeah, it can be," she muttered, sitting down at the computer.

I turned to Steve. "If you're still going to be difficult, there's one of your valued customers right over there who's in dire need of your help in the face of this overwhelming selection of tapes. Otherwise, one of my friends is missing, and I intend on getting him back."

That seemed to sober him up a bit. "Alright. Fine."

Then we turned back to Robin.

"Rick Alderman's latest rentals are Annie and Dumbo," she informed us, instantly clueing me into what she was doing. "What are the chances our drug dealer has a family?"

Max shook her head. "Not likely."

"Alright," Robin said, moving onto the next one. "Rick Conroy. Sixteen Candles, Teen Wolf, Romancing the Stone."

"No," all of us said in unison.

She nodded. "Okay. Rick Joiner. Mask, Footloose, and Grease."

Steve shook his head. "Nah."

She clicked to the next one. "Rick Kimbrough. The Blue Lagoon and Splash."

Max laughed. "Definitely not. No way."

Robin smiled. "Okay. Rick Lipton. Fast Times at Ridgemont High. Cheech & Chong's Next Movie. Cheech & Chong's Nice Dreams. Cheech & Chong's Up in Smoke."

"Bingo," Dustin declared, to the agreement of everybody else.

"Lipton?" I clarified.

Robin nodded. "Spelled like the tea. 2121 Holland Road."

"That's out by Lovers Lake."

"Middle of nowhere."

A smile played at my lips. "It's a perfect place to hide."

Chapter Text

"Eddie! It's Dustin!"

I stood a little ways back from the group as they knocked on the front door of Reefer Rick's house. Nobody was answering. Nobody had been answering. Nobody seemed to be home.

Dustin pounded some more. "Look, we just wanna talk, okay? No cops, I swear. We just wanna help." A pause. "Eddie!"

Steve shushed him.

"Rick!" he tried. "Reefer Rick!"

"Don't scream that."

Sighing, I looked around, seeing another structure off to the side. A boat house of sorts. A bit farther off the beaten path, a bit left noticeable, a bit less obvious....

It was perfect.

Immediately, I started walking over towards it, leaving the rest of them behind to continue screaming at a door. I was almost positive that Eddie was in there. He had to be. If he wasn't... I had no other ideas. It was dark out, we'd asked everybody we could think to ask, and that was all we had. He had to be in there.

I opened the door, eyes adjusting to the darkness as I looked around. "Eddie?" I called, taking a step inside. I let the door close behind me. "Eddie?" I repeated, starting to look around. "Please, God, tell me you're in here. I've been looking for you all day. I— I just want to make sure you're okay." There was still no response. "Eddie!"

Biting my lip, I looked around to see where he could be hiding. There was a bunch of shit all over the place, but nothing that immediately screamed 'hiding place'. Except, the boat... it had a tarp over it. A tarp totally big enough and heavy enough and thick enough to hide a person. To hide Eddie.

I slowly walked over to it. The chance that it was hiding someone who was not, in fact, Eddie, suddenly occurred to me. What if it was Reefer Rick himself? What if he didn't take lightly to a stranger showing up at his house?

Quietly, I crouched down by the edge of the boat. Holding my breath, I reached over towards the tarp, grasping it in my fingers.

Suddenly, the door banged open, startling me to hell and back. "I know you think you're being funny, but considering everyone in this room has nearly died a hundred times, personally, I don't find it funny in the slight—"

Suddenly, the tarp moved, rising into the air. I fell backwards, watching as a figure stepped out from underneath it, turning towards me.

Before I could see who it was, they grabbed me by the front of my shirt, shoving me backwards until my back hit something hard and pretty sharp on the wall. Whoever it was held up a knife, pressing it against my neck. Startled and in pain, I looked up into the face of my attacker. It was then, and only then, that I realized who it was.

I relaxed, as much as a person with a knife to their neck could. "Hey, Eddie."

His brows furrowed. "Cecilia?"

Nodding, I winced as the thing dug into my skin a little more. "You, uh... you gonna let me go? Because there's something— ah, there's something shoved into my back and it doesn't— doesn't feel good. Also, could you— could you maybe put the knife away? Unless you're planning on slitting my throat, which, I mean, it wouldn't—"

Abruptly, he let go of me, taking a step back. "No. No, I'm not going to slit your throat. Sorry. What the hell are you doing here?"

As I looked up at him, I could feel all of the stress and anxiety from that day just bubbling up inside of me. Before I could stop myself, I took a step forward, throwing my arms around his neck and pulling him in for a hug.

He returned the embrace, somewhat stiff. "Cecilia?"

"You went missing," I said. "You went missing, and I have been running around all day trying to find you."

Eddie's grip on me tightened. "Well, you found me."

I pulled back, looking him in the eyes. "What the hell happened? You— you said you were meeting up with Chrissy because you didn't have drugs strong enough for her on you. And this morning, she— she's found dead in your house, and you're nowhere to be seen—"

"I didn't do it," he told me immediately.

My eyes widened. "Wh-What— no, you didn't. Of course you didn't. I know that. You liked her. But— but someone did, Eddie. Someone did, and you're the only one who knows what happened."

He shook his head, stepping away from me. "You won't believe me."

"Try us," Dustin called.

Startled, Eddie looked over at him. "Who— Henderson?" he called, noticing the rest of them as well. He grabbed my wrist, pulling me behind him as he brandished his knife. "What are you doing here?"

Dustin raised his hands placatingly. "We're looking for you."

"We're here to help," Robin added.

"Look, Eddie, these are my friends," Dustin informed him. "You know Robin, from band," he informed him. She raised her hands, half heartedly pantomiming like she was playing an instrument. "This is my friend Max. The one who never wants to play D&D?"

I stepped forward, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Eddie, we're just here to help you."

He glanced at me, eyes softening. "Who's pretty boy over there?"

"That's Steve Harrington," I informed him, finding it a little funny that he used the nickname I used, too.

Eddie looked over at him. "Harrington? You mean, the King of Hawkins High, longtime basketball champ, captain of the swim team, 'Nancy 'The Slut' Wheeler' Harrington?"

I slipped my hand into his, trying to calm him down. "Yeah. He used to be a huge jerk, but he's better now. I mean, nowhere near as cool as the rest of us, but he's not gonna turn you in or anything. And, well, Dustin trusts him, so there's that. Look, none of us are here for any other reason than to make sure you're okay, and figure out what happened."

He looked at me, nodding slowly. "Okay. Okay. But... I don't really know what happened myself."

"What do you remember?" I asked him gently.

He sat down on a box. "We— we were in my house. I was trying to find the good stuff for her, so I walked away — just for a second, just a second, and when I came back... she was in this, like, this trance. I tried to wake her up, but... it didn't, uh... it didn't work. She didn't wake up. And then the— the lights, they started flickering, and her body just, like— lifted up into the air and— and she just, like, hung there. In the air. And her bones— her bones started to snap. Her eyes, man. It— It was like there was something, like, inside her head, pulling. I— I didn't know what to do, so I.... I ran away. I left her there." Finished, he sighed, setting his face in his hands. "You all think I'm crazy, right?"

Dustin shook his head. "No. We don't think you're crazy."

"Don't bullshit me, man!" Eddie demanded. "I know how this sounds."

"We're not bullshitting you," Max assured him.

Robin nodded. "We believe you."

As he scoffed, Dustin took a deep breath. "Look, what I'm about to tell you — the both of you — might be a little... difficult to take."

I furrowed my brows, sitting down on the ground next to Eddie. "Okay."

"You know how people say Hawkins is... cursed?" he began. "They're not... way off. There's another world. A world hidden beneath Hawkins. Sometimes it... bleeds into ours."

Eddie closed his eyes, trying to understand. "Like ghosts and shit?"

"There are some things... worse than ghosts," Max informed us.

Dustin nodded slowly. "These monsters, from this other world... we thought they were gone. But they've come back before. That's why we needed to find you."

"If they're back again," Max said, "we need to know."

"That night... did you see anything?" Robin asked him.

"Dark particles, maybe?" Max prompted as Eddie started shaking his head.

"It would almost look like dust, swirling dust," Dustin explained, trying to help.

"No, man, there was nothing you could see or, uh... or touch," he explained, voice pained. "You know, I tried to wake her, man. She couldn't move. It was like she... she was in a trance or something."

Dustin's eyes widened. "Or under a spell."

Eddie perked up. "A curse."

Suddenly, I knew exactly what they were talking about. "Vecna's curse."

"Who's Vecna?" Steve asked.

"An undead creature of great power," Dustin explained, fear in his eyes.

I shook my head. "A spell caster."

"A dark wizard," Eddie added, making direct eye contact with his Hellfire friend.

Suddenly, something occurred to me. The night of the mall fire. When Max's own step-brother had died, and thirty other people, including the police chief. The night I'd been hiding in the woods from my parents, because they were being exceptionally horrible. The night something giant and gruesome and horrifying had come charging down the road after a car, nearly crushing me, and scaring me half to death. The only reasonable explanation I'd been able to come up with was that it had somehow been something that my fucked up mind had come up with. After all, I'd only ever seen something like that in D&D. But the fact that it was real....

I looked up at them. "Last summer. Starcourt Mall fire. What the hell happened?"

Robin looked at me like she couldn't believe what I was asking. "I'm sorry? How the hell do you know that wasn't just a fire?"

I breathed a humorless laugh. "Well, the giant spider monster thing tipped me off."

Steve took a step towards me. "Wait, the— the Mind Flayer? You saw that?"

"Yeah, and I assumed it was a— a hallucination or something," I informed him, pressing a hand against my forehead, incredulous. "Holy shit. Wait, when that kid died, and then he somehow came back to life— Will Byers, that was part of this, wasn't it? And then when all those crops suddenly rotted right out of the fields? And all those power outages and fucked up magnetic disturbances and the radio interference and shit? Every fucked up thing that has happened in Hawkins for the past three years?"

Dustin nodded slowly, his eyes wide. "Yeah, yeah. How do you remember all of that?"

I blinked at him. "Okay, first off, that 'zombie boy' thing was a huge deal for, like, the whole town. First person reported missing in, what, sixty years? And then he just randomly shows up. And my mom didn't shut up about those rotting crops for weeks because she was so insanely afraid that her beloved garden would die. And you would not believe how all that magnetism crap fucks with—" I stopped myself just before I said something I didn't want to. "Well, like, everything."

Eddie's head snapped up. "I remember that. It shorted out my amp. Almost broke my guitar."

Dusting cleared his throat, avoiding our gaze. "Well, that's not our fault. That's the Russians' fault."

I raised an eyebrow. "The Russians?"

"They were hiding underneath Starcourt Mall," Robin explained. "They opened the doorway to the alternate world, which we call the Upside Down, in this whole conspiracy to try to take control of the creatures and use them to expand their army and military power. But we destroyed their whole operation on the night of the fire, along with the doorway and the Mind Flayer."

I gave her a blank look, processing that. "Uh huh. You don't say." I turned to Eddie. "And you thought that at the end of this, they'd all think you were insane."

He turned to look at me. "Black Sabbath predicted this all the way in '70."

"'War Pigs' was about the Vietnam War, though, so... yeah, Russians," I said offhandedly. "Condemning innocents to die because of their hunger for power for the past century, at least."

Chapter Text

Dustin opened the door to the shed, watching as a freaked-out Eddie jumped back at the sound, cursing loudly. 

Unapologetic, Dustin held up his bag of food. “Delivery service.”

Exhaling sharply, he grabbed the bag out of Henderson’s hand, walking over to the boat and sitting down in it. The rest of us followed, finding our own seats around him.

 As Eddie started stuffing his face, Dustin sighed. “So we got, uh, some good news and some bad news. How do you prefer it?”

“Bad news first, always,” he responded, setting down his food.

Dustin nodded. “All right. Bad news. We tapped into the Hawkins PD dispatch with our Cerebro, and they’re definitely looking for you. Also, they’re, uh, pretty convinced you killed Chrissy.”

“Like, 100% kind of convinced,” Max clarified.

Eddie processed that, looking around hopefully. “And the good news?”

“Your name hasn’t gone public yet,” Robin informed him. “But if we found out about you, it’s a matter of time before others do. And once that gets out, everyone and their shallow-minded mother is gonna be gunning for you.”

“Hunt the freak, right?” he hissed.

“Exactly.“

Eddie shook his head, all hope gone. “Shit.”

“So, before that happens, we find Vecna, kill him, and prove your innocence,” Dustin explained helpfully.

He looked up at his child friend like he was an idiot. “That’s all, Dustin? That’s all?”

Dustin nodded. “Yeah, no, that’s pretty much it.”

I tucked my hair behind my ear, thinking. “I don’t know about all that killing Vecna shit, but proving your innocence is totally not as hard as you think it will be.”

Eddie turned his gaze to me, eyes narrowing. “You’re joking, right?”

I shook my head. “No. Look, Hawkins is a small town that’s really eager to prove that it’s not cursed. They’re really just looking for drama. They like you because… well, because of your dad, first off, and also the fact that you keep having to repeat senior year, and you play the guitar, and D&D, and you have a mullet and a leather jacket and listen to music that they think is crap. Just the fact that you exist is enough drama for them to easily try to pin this all on you. Really, all we have to do to get them to switch gears is to dig up a little dirt on some of the town’s favorite people, and lucky for us, I’ve got dirt on everybody. I mean, if Steve insisting that Nancy Wheeler was cheating on him was enough to make everyone turn on one of the most popular girls at Hawkins High, this really won’t be that hard.”

“Hey!” Steve called, seemingly offended that I’d even brought it up.

I ignored him, keeping my gaze on Eddie. “Look. All we need is to be able to prove that someone is out for blood, and capable of absolutely mutilating someone. Well, the whole town is out for your blood right now, which means that all we have to do is pick someone who’s especially psychopathic, and make up a story that makes sense, implicating them in Chrissy’s death. Chances are, there won’t be enough evidence of anything for them to legally charge anybody with murder, which we’ll easily prove by providing that other suspect. Then, the police have to drop the charges, and everybody gets to go free. Toss in a few emotional stories about what a good guy you are, and you’ll flip your entire public persona like that,” I explained, snapping.

Max looked at me. “Wow. That— that actually makes a lot of sense.”

I gave her a small smile. “Thanks. And, hey, if that doesn’t work, I’ve got a list of shocking secrets about every student at Hawkins High, and we can pick someone who truly deserves it and create such a big scandal that everybody focuses on that for a while until we can come up with something better. But, for now, we should probably focus on the other aspect of the plan, which is probably a lot more important currently.”

Suddenly, the sound of sirens could be heard in the distance. I got to my feet, listening as they got louder.

Robin turned to Eddie. “Tarp. Tarp. Tarp.”

As they helped hide him, I walked over to the window, looking outside. A bunch of police cars went right by the house, followed closely by… an ambulance.

As I watched them drive away, I felt my stomach drop. “So, good news. They’re not here for Eddie,” I remarked, turning back towards the rest of them. “Bad news… I’m, like, 90% sure someone else just died. Um.” I smoothed my hair back, thinking. “It’d be on the news, right? If they found another victim. It’d be on the news.”

Robin turned to Eddie. “That house got a TV?”

He looked a little freaked out. “Y-Yeah.”

She held out a hand. “Keys?”

Climbing out of the boat, he grabbed them, tossing them to her.

Catching them, she looked back at the rest of us. “Okay, so, we’ll go up to the house, turn on the news, and figure out what’s going on.”

Dustin took a step forward. “I’ll stay here with Eddie. You guys go on ahead.”

“Wait,” Steve said, stopping them. “I just gotta do something first.” He walked over to the wall, rummaging around a bit, before emerging with a baseball bat in his hands. He started tossing it a little, taking a couple practice swings, as if he was getting a feel for it.

I watched him, confused. “What’s that for?”

He stopped, meeting my gaze. “Oh. You, obviously.”

My heart dropped. “What?”

A sinister smirk slowly grew on his face, and he rested it on his shoulder. “You. It’s for you. You deserve this. Oh, don’t worry. I’ll give you a headstart. But when I find you… I won’t hold back. So you should really… run.”

Abruptly, I dropped back into reality, right as Eddie grabbed ahold of my shoulders, startling me. “Jesus fucking Christ,” I gasped, taking a step backwards, immediately noticing a throbbing in my head as I did. Steve was still standing by the door, no baseball bat in sight, and Eddie looked totally freaked out. “What the hell?”

Pretty boy looked concerned, too. “You just randomly spaced out. Eddie said that was what happened to Chrissy, so….”

Pressing a hand against my forehead to help with the pain — which only seemed to get worse — I shook my head. “N-No, I— I do that sometimes, just space out. Usually when— when I’m stressed. I— I don’t really know why it happens, but it’s— no, I’m fine,” I explained. And it was true, that did happen to me, but usually I had no memory of it. It was just like a time jump for me. But having that sort of hallucination type of thing… that was new.

Robin pointed at me. “Well, I think it’d be best if you just stayed here. Steve and Max and I can go up and check the news ourselves.”

“Yeah, okay,” I agreed, rubbing my temples. I got headaches a lot, too — especially more so recently — but that one was pretty bad.

Eddie walked me over back towards the boat, and I sat down on a box. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Looking up at him, I nodded. “Yeah. I— I’m sorry for scaring you.”

He shook his head, smiling faintly. “Don’t worry about it.” He seemed as if he wanted to say something else, but didn’t.

“Okay,” Dustin said suddenly, sitting down across the boat from me. “I need to know.”

I furrowed my brows. “Know what?”

He gestured at me as if it was obvious. “How you two met, and why I haven’t heard about you until now! I mean, you’re totally cool, and you know, like, everything about everyone, but no one’s ever heard of you.”

“Ouch,” I joked, tucking my hair behind my ears. “No, yeah, I get it. Okay. You want my full backstory?”

He nodded excitedly.

Sitting up, I prepared myself to tell the story in the most dramatic way possible. “It was a dark and stormy night. Except the sky was totally clear and the sun was bright because it was really early afternoon. Anyways. At 12:31 pm on Monday, October 31st, 1967, the world changed forever. I’ll leave you to decide whether the change was good… or not.”

Dustin was on the edge of his seat. “What happened?”

“The coolest girl in the entire world was born,” I informed him.

His eyes widened. “Whitney Houston?”

I furrowed my brows. “What— no. It was— y’know what, forget it. Look. I was born in a small town called Livingston, Illinois. Like, ‘half the size of Hawkins’ small. Less than half the size, actually. I moved here to Hawkins when I was, um….”

“Eleven,” Eddie finished for me.

I glanced at him, thinking about it, but he was right. “Eleven. Right. Because I went directly into Hawkins Middle School. Now, I knew absolutely nobody, but my parents are naturally super social, so they introduced me to the children of all of the friends they made immediately upon stepping food in Hawkins. But, see, all these kids were, like, band prodigies or star athletes or math geniuses or shit like that. I didn’t like any of them, but I didn’t know anybody else, so I just sort of existed near them to make it seem like I had friends. And then— oh, God, and then— the talent show.”

Eddie gave me a confused look. “You were there?”

I waved a dismissive hand at him. “I wasn’t in it, I just watched. But this guy right here, he walked up into that stage like he owned the entire world, even though he looked different and acted different than everybody else. And he and his band got up there and— God, they were good. They were really, really good. And suddenly it was like my eyes opened. That was the type of music that I liked, the type of people that I liked. So, I ditched my friends, and I went to listen closer. And then these kids, they came up to me and introduced themselves and asked if I liked the music and said they liked it too and realized I was a new kid and… and suddenly I had friends. Cool friends. And we started the only D&D club that Hawkins Middle School had ever seen, with me as its beloved DM.”

Even though I wasn’t telling the story like I had been before, with all the embellishments and theatrics, Dustin was still hanging on every word. “And then what happened?”

I sighed, shrugging. “We grew up. I realized that I didn’t need to care what other people thought about me, got more comfortable doing what I wanted to do, even if I was on my own. The rest of the club started drifting off in their own ways, too— pretty soon, none of them wanted to play D&D anymore. I mean, they still showed up for the occasional campaign, but… they found other things to do. Eventually, I decided it wasn’t worth it anymore, so I gave it up. Got into highschool, joined music theory instead of Hellfire— I wanted to get away from it, but also, I kinda thought I wasn’t cool enough to be in it. And… that was that.”

The kid furrowed his brows. “But… how did you two become friends?”

I breathed a laugh. “Well, we only really met because Gareth was in my middle school club, and then ditched because he thought Hellfire was cooler. Once mine disbanded, he kept trying to get Eddie to convince me to join Hellfire. Of course, the way he went about that was by telling him that I was the ‘best DM’ he’d ever seen, which I don’t think warmed Eddie up to the idea much at all, especially since I never took him up on it. And then he left me alone.”

“He still stands by that, y’know,” Eddie informed me. “That you’re the better DM. I mean, we’ve been together for over four years, and he still swears that you’re better at it than I am.”

I shook my head, smiling. “He’s got to be remembering wrong. I mean, I was pretty good, but I’m not sure I’ve got anything on you. Besides, remembering something from over four years ago… makes it harder to keep the facts straight.”

He gave me a look. “He always said that you were held back by your members. I, for one, would be very curious to see what you could come up with if you had a party that actually wanted to be there.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Dustin interrupted. “Are you telling me that you guys never really hung out until now?”

I shrugged. “Nope. I’ve known Eddie for years, but that D&D session on Friday was the first time I spent any real amount of time with him.”

He slowly shook his head, eyes wide. “Wow. I never would have guessed that. You guys act like you’ve been friends since forever.”

“I really don’t know why we weren’t,” Eddie commented, looking at me. “I mean, we like the same music, the same games, we’re both outcasts from society— Darnell, we’re almost exactly the same.”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, aside from a few… key differences, sure.”

He grinned at me. “Like what?”

Exhaling slowly, I thought about it. “Well, you’re a God at the guitar, you have a lot more friends, you’re way more outspoken, and people at least know who you are, even if they don’t like you very much. Just to name a few.”

“Why doesn’t anybody know who you are?” Dustin interjected.

I turned to him. “Because I don’t want them to,” I said simply. “I learned a long time ago that nobody ever listened to me when I talked, so why bother trying, y’know? The people who won’t like me because I’m different will only like me less if I talk to them, and it’ll take up a lot of energy. But, if nobody knows I exist, except for the cool people, then I get to walk practically unseen. Nobody makes fun of me or teases me — at least, not to my face — and in return, I get the ability to know everyone on a deeper level. People stand right next to me, don’t know who I am, don’t care, and just go on with their days. Gives me the advantage.”

Dustin gasped. “Oh my God, you’re a spy.”

“A spy?” I repeated, surprised. “No. I just like being informed. You hang with Eddie, so I know you’re cool, so I know you. Same with all of Hellfire’s members. The basketball team’s one giant, collective asshole — minus your friend, Lucas Sinclair — so I, of course, keep myself in the loop as to what’s going on with all of them. Things like that. I keep track of what I hear, because who knows when it’ll come in handy? Maybe, um… maybe one day I want something printed — or not printed, as the case may be — in the school paper. Well, now, I’ve got an in through Nancy Wheeler because I know you guys are friends with her. Before, I could’ve used what I knew about her, or Fred Benson, or Shelly Cook, or Kate Torres, or Michael Webster— you get the picture. I might not know everybody, but I make it a point to know at least a couple of people in every group in school. You get me?”

He shook his head, grinning from ear to ear. “Sounds like a spy to me.”

Sighing, I relented. “Fine. I’m a spy then.”

Dustin jumped to his feet, raising his arms in the air. “I’m friends with a spy!”

“A spy?” a voice called from the doorway. I turned to see pretty boy standing there, confused. “Who’s a spy?”

Before Dustin could answer, I stood. “What’s the news say?”

Steve frowned at me. “You were right. Someone else died. Just down this road, off the woods, which means the trailer park should be free of cops in a little while.”

“Then let’s go,” I suggested immediately, turning back to Eddie. “Will you be okay here on your own?”

He met my gaze, hesitating. “Hey, can I talk to Cecilia alone before you go?”

Steve shrugged. “Go ahead. I mean, she’s got her own transportation, so….”

Dustin walked towards the door. “Don’t worry. We won’t leave you behind. Unless you take too long, that is.”

As they closed the door behind them, I turned back to Eddie. “What’s up?”

He scratched the back of his neck, looking off to the side. “Look, I— I wanted to apologize. I think I came on a— a little too strong on Friday. I shouldn’t’ve kissed you, not like that.”

My eyes widened, and my first instinct was to reassure him. “Oh, n-no, it’s fine, don’t worry about it! I mean, I, um… I wasn’t really expecting it, but that doesn’t— well, it wasn’t— I didn’t— you were so— ugh, what I’m trying to say is—”

“You liked it?” he guessed.

I tensed as I realized that was the logical conclusion my words had been coming to. “W-Well, I— I’m not— it’s not that I— see, really, I—”

“You didn’t like it,” he guessed again, confused.

“Th-That’s not what I’m saying. What I’m saying is— is that I—” I froze for a few seconds, trying to figure out a lie I could tell him that would make sense, but I came up empty. Sighing, I sat down on a box, rubbing my face with my hands. “God, Eddie, I don’t know. It’s just— it was totally out of the blue, you just started kissing me, and before I could even process that, you were walking away. I— I don’t even know whether I liked it or— or not, because I was so startled by the fact that you were even kissing me that my mind never got to that part,” I explained sheepishly, avoiding his gaze.

He sat down next to me, quiet for a little while. “Y’know… there’s an easy way to figure that out.”

I glanced up at him. “How?”

Eddie looked at me with a smirk. “I can kiss you again.”

My brain stopped working. “What?”

He leaned in a bit closer. “I’m sorry for just kissing you before, without giving you any warning. But, now, I am. So you can process that, and get to the part where you can figure out whether or not you want me to kiss you, before I kiss you.”

I instinctively looked at his lips, my heart rate increasing. “I— I’m not sure, Eddie.”

He brought a hand up to lightly cup my cheek. “You’re not sure about what?”

I rested a hand against his chest. “If I want this or not.”

Breathing a laugh, he continued to slowly lean towards me. “You’re not pushing me away.”

He had me there. “N-No, but—”

“So that means you’re not completely against it.”

My eyes started to flutter shut of their own accord. “I-I’m not, but—”

“Then what’s the harm in just… letting it happen?”

My head felt cloudy. “I… I don’t know….”

“Do you want this?” 

I could feel his breath on my lips. “Eddie….”

He stopped abruptly. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

“Yes,” I breathed, the word rolling off my tongue so easily, before I could think about what I was saying.

He closed the gap, pressing his lips against mine. That time, I wasn’t frozen. I kissed Eddie back, wrapping my arms around his neck, holding him loosely against me. He rested his free hand on my knee, something that made my stomach erupt into butterflies, much to my surprise. 

After a moment, he pulled back, a smile on his face. “Damn, Cecilia.”

I swallowed, trying to calm my racing heart. “I… I should probably go before they ditch me.”

He nodded. “Right. Hey, by the way… what did Steve mean when he said you had your own transportation?”

I pulled back a little so I could see his eyes. “Oh. Well, see, everybody else has been riding around in pretty boy’s car, but it only holds four, so I’ve been riding my motorcycle instead.”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “You ride a motorcycle?”

A smile played at my lips as I got to my feet. “Yeah. Gets me places faster than a car.”

He seemed almost at a loss for words at that. “Be careful.”

I turned back around to face him. “You be careful,” I countered. “You’re the one being hunted.”

He nodded solemnly. “I will. I promise.”

“Good,” I responded, opening the door and walking out. 

Dustin straightened up from where he was leaning on Steve’s car when he saw me. “What’d Eddie want?” he asked when I was close enough.

I smiled to myself as I grabbed my helmet. “He just told us to be careful.”

“You were in there for an awful long time for someone to just say ‘be careful’,” pretty boy himself observed suspiciously.

I met his gaze evenly, swinging my leg over my bike. “And you use an awful lot of Farrah Fawcett hairspray to just achieve a simple, natural look, but to each their own,” I shot back, putting on my helmet and turning on the engine.

He groaned, opening the car door. “How do you know that?” 

Dustin got in the car as well, giving me a thumbs up as he did so.