Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Heartbreak is a fickle thing. Individualistic, too, by nature. 

Sometimes it’s like the movies, loud and unapologetic. It’s screaming matches in the pouring rain, any onlooker overtaken by the poetic sight. It’s late night phone calls where sour words are spoken and relationships are still ended. It’s chocolate ice cream and blankets wrapped around freckled shoulders, the best friend dutifully saying “it’s not you, it’s him”. Sometimes, it’s like the movies. About ninety percent of the time it’s like the movies.

The other ten percent is what Willow Jenkins is feeling. It’s not loud, yet still demands to be felt. It is quiet and miserable, silent in its drumming against her ribs. It’s even ironic, comical. As her eyes continue to flicker between Steve, on her left, and Robin, on her right, the only other thing she can feel besides the heavy heartbreak is the burning embarrassment. 

“It’s not that I still love her, Robin! I just- it’s just…you guys don’t understand ,” Steve groans, leaning onto his elbows as he runs his hands over his face in frustration. He’s spent the last ten minutes rambling about Nancy Wheeler while Robin teased him relentlessly and Willow sat privately heartbroken and tuning most of it out. 

“Then make us understand how you, Steve the hair Harrington, is struggling so hard to move past some girl? Weren’t you considered like, the king of Hawkins high before you graduated?” Robin chastises him as Willow begins to pick at her nails.

“Not that it matters, but yes, they did call me that,” Willow almost scoffs at the way Steve suddenly puffs out his chest, a stark contrast to the role of a heartbroken boy he had just been playing, “Nancy is just… there’s no words. Have you ever even been in love? Either of you?”

Willow stops picking at her nails immediately as Robin throws her head back in a scoff similar to the one Willow swallowed down. “Jesus Christ. We aren’t having this conversation.”

Steve ignores Robin’s exasperated remark, his eyes now focused on Willow instead. He raises his eyebrows, clearly hoping she’ll side with him. 

“Don’t look at me, Harrington. I’ve never even been on a date, definitely never been in love,” Willow feels lucky that any words will even leave her dry mouth. Her tongue is heavy, sticky almost. She still hasn’t shaken the throbbing in her chest. And it only worsens as the lie leaves her throat.

What she wants to reply is, yes. She wants to scream it from every rooftop within a three mile distance of the Starcourt Mall. Because for the last year, Willow Jenkins has been hopelessly in love with Steve Harrington. It all started at the end of sophomore year, when she would go watch Robin’s marching band practices, and they consistently overlapped with track practice. She had tried to fight it, forcing her eyes down to a book in her lap, or maybe whatever homework she was trying to finish up to maintain her one week headstart in all her classes, or simply watch Robin make funny faces at her from across the field. But then, Steve would run by with his stupid hair, and flash a stupid smile, and it would give Willow stupid butterflies. She thought once he started dating Nancy Wheeler, it would go away. Her childish attraction would vanish and she could joke about the year wasted with Robin. 

But it didn’t. It hasn’t. And at this point, Willow doesn’t think it ever will.

Steve opens his mouth to finally reply, but Willow decides to interrupt, unable to take it anymore. “I’m going to the bathroom.” 

Neither of her friends say a word, not only shocked from how abruptly she stands and hurries to the employee bathroom, but probably due to the customers she can hear enter the ice cream shop as she shuts the door to the bathroom. 

Robin isn’t going to let me live that stunt down . 

She bends over the sink of the small restroom. It was painted a sickly bright shade of blue, more-so turquoise really, with a nautical theme to induce further nausea. Her hands move on autopilot, cool water spewing out the silver faucet. Willow doesn’t even glance up at herself before splashing cool water across her heated cheeks. It helped with the fiery embarrassment, but she could still feel that awful ache in her bones. Any time Steve talked about Nancy she felt it. 

“Idiot,” she mutters to herself as she finally looks up to meet her own pathetic gaze. 

Robin had spent the entire summer gently mocking Willow for the crush, telling her to “snooze it or lose it!”. She constantly reminded her how often Steve flirted with girls, how he was clearly on the market and looking. But Willow knew better. When Steve only had eyes for Nancy, WIllow only had eyes for Steve. And she had seen the look that crossed his face every time he looked at Nancy, had listened to him talk about their break-up endless times. 

Steve Harrington was still hung up on Nancy Wheeler.

And that was fine. Willow would survive. She could grasp onto her minimal hope that one day, some day, Steve would get over Nancy. And she’d be waiting happily for him with open arms. She just had to wait.

It only took a minute for Willow to compose herself. Hey, this time she didn’t even cry. The mere memory of the way she’d cried over the phone to Robin after the last time she’d heard Steve ramble about Nancy almost made her entire face light up red again. Robin hadn’t even made fun of her, at some point the two of them just laying on the phone while Willow sniffled into her pillow miserably. It was dramatic and pathetic and embarrassing, and had become her awful reality for the summer. But it was a small price to pay to at least be friends with Steve. For every time she could feel a physical crack within her chest at his pining for Nancy, she also got the privilege of watching him laugh so hard the corners of his eyes creased. For every night spent agonizing over a new hobby that she’d inevitably give up as she’d only started it in a sorry attempt to take her mind off Steve, she’d earn a new inside joke between just the two of them. For every piece of herself she gave, Willow managed to catch a glimpse of a new side of Steve. 

It was worth it. It had to be. 

Knocking on the bathroom door drags Willow out of her thoughts, Robin’s voice pouring through the thin wooden slab. “Hey! Get out here! The infamous Henderson is back!” 

“Coming!” Willow squeaks, moving to quickly flush the toilet as if she hadn’t spent her time in the bathroom moping. 

The moment she opens the door, Robin stands on the other side waiting for her, a soft and knowing smile on her face. “You good?” 

“Better than ever. Now where is Harrington’s kid? I need to see him in mom mode in person.” 

They head out to the front together, and Willow hears Dustin’s laughter before she catches sight of his mop of curls bouncing up and down as he hugs Steve.

“Aww,” she immediately teases, walking around the corner and resting her face on the cool corner of the ice cream case, “Let me get a picture of this beautiful father-son moment.” 

She sticks her hand out, thumbs and pointer fingers joining in a mocking photograph. 

“Yeah, yeah, tease all you want, Jenkins. Nothing can kill my mood now,” Steve’s smile is so wide she can imagine the ache in his cheeks, and truly believes what he says. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen him look so happy or excited, especially not for what has been quite a depressing summer for him. It’s as if his longing for Nancy has completely vacated the premises, the only thing on his mind clearly being his young friend. 

“Hi there!” Dustin pipes up as he shoves Steve out of their hug, “I’m Dustin Henderson!” 

Dustin holds out his hand for Willow to shake, and she takes it with a laugh. “Oh, trust me. We know who you are. But it’s nice to meet you, I’m Willow.” 

“Hopefully you’ve only heard good things?” Dustin side-eyes Steve, smile faltering for a second. 

“What? You think I spent my entire summer trash-talking you to my coworkers?” Steve defends himself. 

“I mean…” Dustin starts, Steve immediately rolling his eyes at him, “I just wouldn’t put it past you! I’m sorry!” 

“Only good things,” Robin finally interjects, smiling as wide as Steve was. As much shit as the two girls have given Steve this summer, it was nice seeing him so lively. 

A silence falls over the four of them as the song playing over the mall's speakers trickles in. Willow is almost positive it’s Shout by Tears for Fears, but she can’t be completely sure with all of the static overtaking it. 

“Hey, Rob…do you mind if I…” Steve trails off, looking between her and Dustin, giving a weak but sincere grin, “You know, maybe go over there and just…”

“Oh my God, Steve. Just go catch up with your child! I’ll make sure Robin covers you,” Willow laughs, making a “shoo” motion with her hands. Robin is nodding enthusiastically beside her, making the same hand movements. 

“Thank you guys,” Steve sighs, starting to back up towards the large corner booth in their shop, “Also, he’s not my child!” 

Steve turns to go sit down as Dustin nods in solitude with him. “Yeah, I mean, can you imagine how messed up Steve’s kid would have to be? Besides, my hair is way better than his and I’m way smoother with the ladie-”

“Henderson!” 

The two girls are left shaking their heads with soft laughter as the boys sit down, immediately engaging in what will probably be a very long conversation. Willow knows Robin doesn’t mind, given it being a slow Wednesday afternoon. 

“You,” Robin says suddenly, forcing Willow to look away from the sweet moment between Steve and Dustin, “I haven’t forgotten that runaway stunt before all this. Speak. Now.”

“What do you mean?” Willow plays clueless, walking around Robin to grab a small sample spoon. 

“I mean, why’d you go to the bathroom all of a sudden? You looked like you were either gonna puke or sob, and I’m not sure which one I would kick Steve’s ass harder for.” 

Willow doesn’t answer her right away, instead leaning and swiping her spoon into the strawberry cheesecake ice cream. She specifically snags a chunk of cheesecake, and takes her time to eat it, avoiding Robin’s gaze. 

“Seriously, Jenkins? I’m going to kick your ass too no-” 

“I wasn’t crying or anything. I just had to piss. Jesus, Robin.” 

They stare each other down for a moment. Robin isn’t going to let this go, a fiercely loyal best friend, and Willow won’t break, a fiercely embarrassed mess. If Robin noticed something was off with Willow, that meant that Steve might have. And if Steve noticed…

Robin snags the dirty sample spoon from Willow and tosses it into the small trash can on the counter specifically for them. “I know you’re lying. It’s okay to admit it hurts your feelings.” 

“What hurt my feelings?” Willow is mumbling, conscious of Steve just across the store. He’s clearly entranced with whatever story Dustin is telling, but the thought of him overhearing this conversation would send her spiraling. 

“Stop playing dumb. You have a crush on you-know-who, and I know it sucks listening to him talk about…well, you-know-who-else.” 

Willow shrugs with minimal effort, moving back to her place at the end of the counter and resting her chin on the cool silver plating once more. “It’s fine. I get what he’s going through, I’m not heartless.” 

“No, not heartless. Just heartbroken, right?” These words from Robin’s lips catch Willow off-guard, finally forcing her gaze to meet her best friend’s look of pity. 

“Can’t be heartbroken if it’s just a crush.” 

“Bullshit.” 

“Robin, seriously. I’m not.” 

“You so are. Remember last week?” 

Willow immediately whines, “You promised never to mention that again!” 

“I know!” she throws her hands up defensively, “I’m just saying.” 

The coolness from the ice cream freezers are Willow’s savior at this moment. She hated that Robin was right. She hated that she could feel her heart not breaking into two, but hundreds, possibly thousands of pieces, any time Steve so much as said Nancy’s name. It was pathetic. 

“Listen, I know you’re determined he’s still hung up on you-know-who-else, but what if you…I don’t know, just tried to flirt with him? Or ask him out?” Robin says as she grabs a metal spatula from the small fountain of water behind the counter where they store their scoopers. 

“Because he’s clearly not interested,” Willow doesn’t mean for how clipped her tone comes out. But they’ve had this conversation multiple times already. Robin knows Willow’s stance on it all. 

“All I’m hearing is if I can concoct a plan wild enough to get him to show interest in you, you two will be riding off into the sunset, right?” 

Willow doesn’t answer, instead humphing in response, letting her gaze wander back to the two boys. She’s shocked and embarrassed when Steve’s eyes are already on her. He looks away quickly, and she swears she can see him blush, but shakes the thought as the clear reasoning is the shitty lighting in the store. 

“You really haven’t even tried flirting with him?” Robin presses, wandering to the flavors directly beside Willow. 

“I mean, I have once or twice. He never really reciprocates.” 

“He’s a shy guy.” 

Willow scoffs, catching Steve’s attention again. She’s sure to keep her voice low as she responds, “The king of Hawkins High, shy? C’mon, Robin.” 

Robin opens and closes her mouth multiple times, trying to come up with a good defense. “Listen, I know, but Nancy changed him-”

“Keep your voice down , Buckley!” Willow hisses in a whisper, realizing how Steve no longer looks quite as enraptured as he did at the beginning of his catching up with Dustin. 

“Sorry! But he obviously has changed. The kids changed him, too. I don’t know. Maybe he’s seen some shit. But he’s not the same asshole he was in high school,” Robin attempts to whisper, but Willow has accepted her best friend is incapable of being quiet. Regardless, Steve is now talking animatedly, waving his hands wildly, so she knows Dustin has his full attention once more. 

“I don’t care if he’s a nice guy now. I know he’s a nice guy now. It’s why I still like him so goddamn much. But how do you even get a guy, especially a nice guy, to admit to being interested? Especially when flirting is hopeless?” Willow’s voice is partially mumbled with her chin still against the glass. 

Robin drops her metal spatula back into the water loudly, metal clinking against metal, and neither Steve nor Dustin flinch. “I don’t know, man. Maybe get his attention the old fashioned way?”

“Old-fashioned way?” 

“Yeah,” Robin is grinning, and Willow knows the next words out of her mouth will not be helpful, “Like, fake date some dude. Make him jealous. You know, the old-fashioned way.”

“Jesus Christ, Robin,” if looks could kill, Willow Jenkins’ current glare would have Robin Buckley bleeding out on the floor, “I thought you were going to be helpful for once!” 

Robin can’t even speak up to defend herself through her giggles. Willow stands up straighter, taking both her middle fingers to her temples to massage them. 

“I’m sorry, I know, it’s stupid. I couldn’t help it. You know when plans sound so ridiculous that they just might work?” Robin finally squeaks out as she catches her breath from her laughing fit. 

Willow shakes her head. “Yeah, I’ve heard of those kinds of plans. That’s not one of them.” 

“Oh, come on. There’s really no other guy in town you’d love to play make-believe with until you get Harrington’s attention?” Willow glares once more as she says Steve’s name, but Robin is smiling too wide to react. 

“No.”

“What about a girl?” Robin whispers, still smiling. 

“You offering, Buckley?” Willow whispers back, and it takes Robin off-guard. Usually, Willow scolds Robin for any joking flirting in public, especially since she came out to her last year. The thought of Robin getting any shit publicly for her sexuality breaks Willow’s heart even more than Steve Harrington does. 

“Damn. So all I had to do was ask?” Robin gasps, tilting her head until finally Willow bursts out into her own giggling fit. “No, no. I know we’re just joking. But be serious. Seriously? No one?” 

“I’m serious, Robs. No one,” Willow assures her through a few more giggles. “Besides, to get you-know-who’s attention… the person I fake date would have to be ridiculous. He’d have to get the entire town talking. I mean, a real loud-mouth, reckless idiot with nothing to lose…” 

Robin and Willow both proceed to stare out across the Starcourt food court. There’s plenty of faces they recognize from school. School, which starts back up in under a month. Even if Willow took Robin’s ridiculous plan seriously, she wouldn’t be able to enact it until school started. There was no way she would date some random stranger, even if it was fake. No, if she had to convince Steve, it would have to be someone she could at least make up history with. And what better place to create history than school? 

Willow’s thoughts are running a mile a minute, half her brain entertaining the idea while the other half turns its nose up at the thought, when she sees him. Across the food court, exiting the mall’s record shop known as Uncle Aldo’s Attic, she catches sight of Eddie Munson. 

Eddie the freak Munson. The one who runs a D&D club, who loudly chastises populars, who has the only hair that could have ever even begun to have countered Steve’s. The super super senior. 

The town’s dedicated loud-mouth, reckless idiot with nothing to lose.

At the exact moment that this all clicks in Willow’s head, it’s clearly already clicked in Robin’s as they face each other.

Willow wishes she could slap the wide grin off Robin’s face.

“ No! ”

“Yes! ”

Chapter Text

“ No! ”

“ Yes! ”

Both girls shout at the same time, catching the attention of Steve and Dustin. Willow is mortified, shushing Robin, but it’s too late.

“Maybe?” Steve offers, confused as ever as he stands from the booth he was sitting at with Dustin. 

Dustin just watches, eyes fluttering between the three friends. The entire scene, Willow completely flushed and Robin grinning ear to ear, Steve clueless with a blank face as he rounds the counter to join Robin’s side, is so distracting that none of them notice when the exact cause of the commotion enters the store.

Eddie strolls in with a friend at his side, someone Willow doesn’t quite recognize. She’s sure that he’s a part of Eddie’s D&D club, but truthfully, the only one she’s familiar with is the leader himself.

“Hi there!” Robin notices before Steve, perking up as he remains perplexed, “Welcome to Scoops Ahoy! Any samples today gentlemen?” 

Steve faces Willow, eyebrows scrunched as he mouths, “ What the fuck? ”

And Willow simply shrugs in response, heart pounding as she prays Robin doesn’t do or say anything damning. 

“Could I get a sample of caramel turtle truffle, please?” Eddie’s friend asks politely. Eddie is scoping out the flavors, slightly bent over as his eyes squint to read the flavors. Willow can’t blame him, she’s complained endlessly to her friends that their small paper plaques that read each flavor needed serious upgrades.

“Of course!” Robin grabs one of the spoons like Willow had used to sample earlier, making sure a turtle was perched perfectly on it. 

The friend nods after trying it, seemingly enjoying it. Willow was probably being rude with how much she was staring, but she felt Steve’s eyes on her. She knew he wanted to know why she and Robin had been screaming at each other, why she had been beet red the moment Eddie Munson walked in. She wasn’t ready for that conversation. And so her eyes remained trained on Eddie Munson as if her life depended on it.

“What are you gonna get, Garth?” Eddie suddenly asks his friend, apparently named Garth , as he straightened himself up from staring down the flavors. 

“Probably a shake. That turtle one was really goo-“ 

“Mm. I like your thinking, but I wouldn’t recommend that,” Robin interrupts immediately. Willow finally looks at Steve just to exchange a look, knowing exactly what tangent she was about to take these poor guys down.

“Why not?” Garth asks, genuinely curious. Eddie is watching silently, but Steve and Willow both choose to audibly groan. 

Robin has a shit-eating grin as she tells him her favorite fun fact she’s learned this summer, “They put some sort of laxative in it which makes it sugar free. Rumor has it someone got a large milkshake of it once and well…” 

Steve immediately interjects as Robin trails off with a smile still. “Okay, okay, enough. Stop scaring customers. Go sweep the floors or something, I’ll finish helping them.”  

“Yes, sir,” Robin mockingly salutes Steve, looking at Garth and shrugging softly, “I promise I wasn’t trying to scare you. It’s true. Our sherbets make really good milkshakes though, just ask Stevie boy here to make it extra thick for you. That’s the best way to have it.” 

Robin wastes no time walking over to Willow, grabbing her by her elbow and dragging her to the back. 

“Okay, what was that-“

“He’s perfect!” Robin exclaims, cutting Willow off from scolding her. 

“No, I’m sorry, we’re far past the ridiculous fake-dating idea. You have got to stop telling people they’re going to shit themselves when they order that flavor! It’s not even that likely considering how little of that artificial sweetener they put in!” Willow says, waving her arms wildly as she pulls herself free from Robin’s grasp. She takes several steps away, not noticing her entering the view of Eddie, Garth, and Steve through their window in the wall.

“I’m never going to shut up about that fact. Also, I’m not the one scaring customers now,” Robin nods towards the window and Willow turns, meeting each of the boys’ curious gazes. 

“Are we interrupting something?” Steve asks as he fights a smirk. She can see Eddie over his shoulder, holding a dipped waffle cone filled with what looks like a double scoop of cookie dough, looking to also be fighting off a smile.

“Sorry, just… no. You’re not. I’m sorry,” Willow rambles, blushing harder now. 

Any entertainment she’d given to Robin’s fake-dating idea now including Eddie was officially useless given the scene she’d just made.

“Okay, weirdo,” Steve drags out the word okay before turning his back on her, facing Eddie and Garth once more. Robin comes over and joins Willow’s side, looking straight ahead and not paying any mind to Willow’s intense stare. In all fairness, Willow didn’t blame her. She was trying to explode Robin at this moment with her mind. 

Steve was barely handing back their change when Robin hammered the final nail into Willow’s coffin, calling out, “Hey, say fellas, are you single?” 

Both boys look petrified, taken back, and fairly confused. Steve has turned back around and Willow can’t tell if he’s pissed, embarrassed, or both. 

“W-Who? Us?” Garth stutters. Eddie hasn’t said a word. Honestly, Willow realizes with shock that Eddie hasn’t said much since he’s entered Scoops. Maybe they were wrong, maybe Eddie isn’t the loud-mouth they’d hoped for.

Robin nods enthusiastically, “Yeah, you guys!”

“Oh, y-yeah. Yeah, we are-“ Garth begins replying, clearly still flustered. There were always snide rumors that none of the boys in that club interacted with girls, and Willow was starting to see the truth in that.

Eddie cuts Garth off. “That depends, Buckley. Who’s asking?” 

Willow watches the teasing smirk cross his face, a confidence flooding in that wasn’t there mere seconds ago. As she watches the transformation, she starts to wonder just how much of the commotion he causes at school is for show. 

“Oh, I was just curious. Just trying to get to know my classmates since summer’s ending,” Robin offers a genuine smile while Willow has to stop herself from sinking down out of sight as Eddie’s smile drops. Just as quickly as his act had begun, it was clearly ending. Robin had struck a nerve somehow.

She was going to kill Robin. 

“Listen, if this is leading up to some punch line, especially about how I didn’t graduate,” Eddie begins as Garth looks wildly between everyone. Even Steve is sensing the tension, clearly ready to jump to Robin’s defense.

Willow beats him to it. “It’s not. She’s just in a weirdly nosey, sort of playful mood today. I’m sorry.” 

Robin glances at Willow as she grips the counter out of sight to the boys, knuckles turning white. Robin’s pinky reaches out and brushes against the side of her hand.

Eddie’s eyes finally meet Willow’s for the first time. They’re brown, kind of nice. She can practically see him soften, as if his defenses were melting before her. “Oh, okay. I’m sorry, too. It’s all good.” 

“We are single, by the way,” Garth adds in, flashing a smile. For a moment, Willow wonders the point of all the bullying the boys face. They’re clearly nice. Sure, they play D&D, and act a bit rowdy, but just about every guy in town did. 

“Yeah, that too,” Eddie agrees, finally shoving the change Steve had handed him into his pockets.

“Okay, cool. Well, see you once school starts,” Robin nods, quietly prodding Willow’s calf excitedly  with her foot. Clearly, Robin hadn’t let go of the fake dating idea.

“Have a good night, guys,” Steve finally says, nodding off the boys before angrily turning around to Robin. He leans on the counter on the other side of the window. “Okay, what is your problem tonight? Really, Buckley? Asking customers if they’re single? What the hell?”

Robin shrugs. “Like ‘Low said, I’m feeling playful or whatever.”

“Yeah, or whatever,” Steve squints aggressively, eyes moving onto Willow. “You know something that I don't about this mood? Maybe it has something to do with that shouting match you guys had before they came in?” 

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Willow lies with ease, “And that wasn’t a screaming match. If you want to see a real screaming match, I’m free next Thursday. Would be more than happy to demonstrate.” 

“I think I’m good. I’m pretty sure the boss will be in next Thursday, and I really need this job.”

“Yeah, you do,” Dustin quips, suddenly at the counter once more now that the incident with Eddie has passed, “My birthday is coming up and I expect some pretty sick presents.” 

“Your birthday isn’t for several more months, idiot,” Steve shakes his head immediately, reaching up to readjust his work hat. 

“Gives you more time to save up,” Dustin flashes a smile as he says this, and Willow’s eyes immediately look to Steve as a warmth spreads across her chest. If she thought she was down bad for Steve Harrington just this summer, in all his mopey-heartbroken glory, then seeing him interacting with Dustin had her in the depths of hell for him. Something about it clearly brought out the best in the two of them. She had no idea where this strange friendship between them started, what could have occurred to bring these two oddballs so close together, but it was cute regardless. 

She knew she was staring a second too long when Steve met her gaze, grinning now at her with one eyebrow raised. She sensed the interrogation that was about to begin before he even opened his mouth to say, “Hey, what was up with you making eyes at Munson?” 

“Huh?” Willow is genuinely shocked, physically moving backwards as if Steve had slapped her. “What do you mean, ‘making eyes’?” 

“The moment he walked in he was all you could look at. And look, I’m not one to judge, but that guy is bad news, okay? He still hasn’t graduated, and he makes a scene at every chance he gets. And-”

“Okay, we get it, Harrington. Eddie’s bad news. But Willow can look if she wants, can’t you?” Robin turns to look at Willow, once again kicking her calf where Steve and Dustin couldn’t see. 

The same wheels turning in Robin’s mind were slowly moving in Willow’s. The attention she’d mindlessly given to Eddie got under Steve’s skin. Willow giving another guy attention got under Steve’s skin.

Maybe Robin’s fake-dating idea wasn’t so insane.

Willow knows she’s taking too long to respond, so she snaps back into action. “Yeah…” she drags out the word, carefully, maintaining eye-contact with Robin, “No harm in looking. Not like we could ever be a thing.” Willow turns her attention to Steve, and notices the clench of his jaw. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to be my protector. I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself.” 

“I know you can, Willow. It’s him I don’t trust. Honestly, I don’t trust most of the guys in this town. You’re just too good for all of them-” Steve cuts himself off as everyone’s eyes widen, “No, no, not like that. I mean. Jesus… I just mean I think as your friend, you deserve someone who…someone… just, not a Hawkins dirtbag, you know? Same with Robin! Right? Okay? Stop looking at me like that.” 

Dustin is the first to recover from the shock of Steve fumbling so badly. “Jesus. You really have become our mother.” 

Willow and Robin snort at this as Steve starts stuttering a defense. “Shut it, Henderson! Seriously, since when is it a crime to care about your friends?”

“Not a crime,” Robin corrects, “Just motherly behavior.” 

“Can’t we call it fatherly behavior?” 

“Nope. Mom mode all the way,” Willow chimes in.

“I hate you guys,” Steve mutters, mostly to himself. Willow, Robin, and Dustin continue their laughter as Willow finally looks behind herself and Robin to catch sight of the clock on the wall. 

She lets her laughter die down with each ticking of the second’s hand, before finally turning to face her friends once more. “Well, as cute as it is to see Harrington in mom mode, I have to get going. I’ll see you guys later, yeah?” 

Before Steve has a chance to defend himself against being in ‘mom mode’, Robin groans, “You’re really going to leave me here? All alone?” 

“Hey!” Steve yells, motioning to himself, “Am I a joke to you?” 

Willow agrees with him, nodding in his direction with wide eyes, “Yeah! Is Steve a joke to you?”

“It’s not the same,” Robin whines, literally whines, as she’s pulling Willow into a side hug. 

“You’ll survive,” Willow mumbles against Robin’s shoulder, “Just sample each flavor again and rank them with these dorks this time.” 

“I’m dow- wait, did you just say again?” Steve questions, crossing his arms and leaning back against the ice cream freezers. 

“I’m always down for free samples of ice cream,” Dustin says with a shrug. 

Willow pulls away from Robin and they share a pitiful look, Robin’s eyes begging for Willow to stay and Willow’s eyes apologizing. She really did have summer reading to start, not one to procrastinate and risk ruining her 4.0 GPA.

“When did you guys first sample all the flavors? What was the ranking?” Steve persists, looking around wildly at the flavors as if the girls’ rankings would magically appear to him. 

Willow nods at Robin, turning to grab her bag as Robin claps her hands and announces to the two boys, “Alrighty, gentlemen. Allow me to lay down some ground rules. First of all, my opinion reigns above both of you. I will, however, take your personal dairy rankings into consideration…” 

Willow gives a small wave to everyone as she walks out of the store, out into the food court with her backpack slung over her shoulder. It was slightly worn, slightly heavy, carrying not just her summer reading book but a few of her own personal favorite novels as well. She’d had it since freshman year, the once darker shade of forest green now faded into a well-loved army green. The front pocket that she kept her pencils and pens had several sharpie doodles from one particularly boring day at lunch during her and Robin’s sophomore year, all of them now illegible blobs as the ink had bled out. 

She rounds a corner, trying to avoid the bulk of her fellow peers gathered on the benches around one of the fountains. She should have expected the sight that greeted her, logically, as she immediately catches sight of Garth and Eddie seated on one of the benches, still eating their ice cream as they look over cassettes they clearly bought at Uncle Aldo’s. 

Garth is the one who notices her, looking up and waving softly with his hand that isn’t holding a large shake. Willow can immediately tell by the soft pink shade that he took Robin’s suggestion to heart, getting a rainbow sherbet shake. 

“Good choice,” she calls out, nodding at his beverage. 

“Thanks! It’s honestly really good, tell Buckley thank you for me, will you?” As Garth says this, Eddie is shaking his head, taking a bite of his waffle cone. Willow knows she should continue walking, but she stops dead in her tracks. 

“What, you don’t like sherbet?” she asks, tilting her head to the side. Eddie’s eyes widen as they meet hers, probably not expecting her to catch his reaction, or address it. 

“No, I love sherbet. But sherbet in a shake ?” he scrunches his nose up at the end of his sentence, shaking his head once more. His hair bounces with the movement. It’s kind of cute, Willow hates to admit to herself. 

He’s perfect , Robin’s voice echoes in her head. She has to resist now shaking her own head to get the thought of her mind. 

No. Not happening. 

“Don’t knock it till you try it, man,” Garth moves his drink in Eddie’s direction, straw pointed at him. Eddie immediately puts his free hand up. 

“Nope, no. Not happening. Fuck off.” 

Willow watches for a moment silently, thinking about her own friends she just left behind. She truly hopes Robin doesn’t give the boys a hard time on their ranking. She also hopes that maybe, if she’s lucky, Steve will call her tonight to fill her in on his official ranking. It’s a dwindle of hope, some fantasy that will never come to fruition. Which is fine. 

She doesn’t realize she was zoned out, awkwardly staring down Eddie and Garth, until Eddie clears his throat. Embarrassed, Willow quickly spits out, “See you guys around!”

She doesn’t wait around to hear their goodbyes, or their possible lack of goodbyes. She turns on her heels and begins barreling for the mall exit she’s parked outside. The entire walk through the parking lot, all she can think of is Robin, and her absolutely ridiculous plan. A plan that clearly wouldn’t work. A plan that was stupid, that even the Freak would turn his nose up to. It was absurd, laughable, foolish, nonsensical. 

It was ridiculous. Willow didn’t have time for ridiculous.

Chapter Text

Willow hadn’t heard from Robin or Steve in nearly a week. Which was fine, considering it gave her the peace and quiet she needed to finish her summer reading. 

On the other hand, on this particular evening, Willow was mentally cursing Robin. 

With her summer reading done, the short assignment paired with it completed with ease, Willow finally had time to think. There was no longer any distraction in front of her to stop her mind from ricocheting thoughts of Steve, of Nancy, of Steve with Nancy, and most peculiarly, Eddie Munson , around. Robin had planted this ridiculous idea into Willow’s head, and it didn’t matter how many times she mentally reprimanded herself, she couldn't stop entertaining it. Maybe if that day at Scoops, Steve hadn’t spoken up once Eddie left, this wouldn’t be plaguing her. If she stopped having to see the clench of Steve’s jaw as he lectured her on why she shouldn’t date Eddie Munson every time she closed her eyes, stopped having to hear the echo of his words in her mind. 

You’re just too good for all of them.

Did Steve Harrington really believe that? More importantly, was there a slim chance he also believed Willow was too good for him? 

She couldn’t take the overthinking anymore. Within mere seconds, Willow had leapt up from her bed (rather ungracefully) and gone sliding down the hallway to her house phone. Her fingers almost couldn’t move fast enough as she shakily started to turn Robin’s phone number into the phone. The soft clicking with each number only added to her annoyance. 

“Come on, come on, come on,” she mumbles to herself as she hastily plugs in the final number to her best friend. She waits with bated breath for a few beats of silence when she hears ringing from the phone, “ finally .” 

One ring.

Two rings.

Willow pinches her eyes shut, anxiously awaiting for her best friend to pick up. It honestly wasn’t just her insane need to ramble about her situation with Steve, she just missed Robin. She missed her stupid jokes and teasing, and even her hugs she’d force Willow into at any given chance. It had only been a week, but for Willow, it had been a week too long. 

While lost in thought, Willow hadn’t even heard the soft whine of the power outage. It took her a second to realize that the third ring wasn’t coming, and the soft hum of her AC was nowhere to be found. 

“What the…” her eyes flash open immediately, glancing around her now dark kitchen, “What the hell?” 

Willow immediately moves to the small window above the kitchen sink, using the counter as leverage to lift herself onto her tippy toes and peek outside. She could see storm clouds in the distance of the quickly fading evening sky. But even more than that, she noticed the darkness. Not the sky’s darkness. The town’s darkness. She immediately fell back onto her bare heels and carefully navigated to her garage. Was the entire town’s power out? Chills ran down her spine as she let the darkness of the carport encapture her. Her mom was working a night shift at the hospital, leaving her completely alone. 

“Okay, focus. Flashlight,” she says out loud, trying to break the silence of being alone with her own voice. The concrete is cold on her feet as she pads over to the small toolbox they kept out here. It was bright red, still looking as new as the day they moved here and bought it. Her mom said they needed it, needed a few basic tools so if anything ever came up, they could fix it. 

“ See? We’ve got these. We can fix just about anything now, who needs your dad? ”

Willow still doesn’t know who her mother was trying to convince of that to this day. 

“Aha!” she shouts as she finds the metal flashlight right on top of the tools. Power outages were fairly normal in Hawkins, especially in the last few years. The flashlight has gotten its fair use.

Once Willow’s fist is white-knuckling the flashlight, she wastes no time sprinting back into her house, not even taking the time to turn on the flashlight. As the door to the garage slams shut behind her, she jumps slightly. 

It’s fine. It’s just a power outage. Don’t be a baby. 

It takes a few tries for her to find the switch to turn on the flashlight, but once she does, it flickers. “Jesus christ, no, no, no. C’mon.” 

Her pleads only fall on her own ears, drumming from her heartbeat. It was silly, being scared of the dark as a senior in high school. 

Finally, the beam of light pours out of the flashlight, stable except for the shaking of Willow’s hand. “Thank God.” 

Ironically, right in the moment, Willow nearly passes out as banging sounds from her front door. She stares, dumbfounded for a moment. 

Another bang sounds, and Willow jumps out of her skin. 

“Coming!” she means to yell it out confidently, but it comes out a whisper instead. It’s only when the frantic ringing of her doorbell sounds that she knows she’ll have to answer the door no matter what. She still drags her feet, hesitant as she presses her eye to the lookout.

She wasn’t sure what she expected at her door. A murderer, or maybe some terrifying creature of the night. 

It was neither. Instead, she caught sight of her best friend distorted through the dingy glass of the peephole. 

“Rob?” Willow questions as she flings the door open, “What the-”

Nothing could have prepared Willow for the bone-crushing hug that Robin attacks her with. 

“ Oh my gosh, Willow ! You have no idea how happy I am to see you, oh my gosh. I’ve had the craziest week! I cracked a Russian code! And then there was this giant thing called the Mind-Flayer and Billy Hargrove - you know that asshole, right? - he…he got attacked and now he’s dead and the mall is destroyed and I don’t think me and Steve have jobs anymore and did I mention there were Russians-” 

Robin doesn’t take a single breath as she spews all this information into Willow’s shoulder, bouncing a little as she continues to squeeze her. Willow finally has to pull herself free, holding her friend by her shoulders as she cuts her off. “Woah, woah, woah. Rob. Slow down. What happened?” 

“Okay, okay,” Robin takes a few deep breaths, closing her eyes softly. Willow takes the moment to notice that she’s still wearing her Scoops uniform. When Robin opens her eyes once more, she’s smiling softly, apologetically almost, as she says, “Before I begin, do you have any pizza rolls?” 

—

The girls end up sitting across from each other on Willow’s bed, a plate of pizza rolls between them and the flashlight long discarded somewhere under Willow’s pillows. 

“I don’t believe you,” Willow scoffs, taking a pizza bite as she shakes her head. Admittedly, what her friend was telling her sounded insane. 

“It’s true!” Robin defends, waving her hands wildly, “This girl’s name is Eleven, they call her El for short. She literally moves things with her mind. I watched her force this gross like, baby monster out of her leg! It was disgusting! But not as disgusting as that time that one girl we knew broke her leg-”

“I think I got the picture, Rob. I don’t particularly want to remember… that ,” Willow scrunches her nose and tries to force the memory of what a bone sticking out of a leg looks like. 

Fucking gross. 

“Sorry,” Robin shrugs, smiling apologetically. “So, you believe me, right?”

Willow pauses, considering all she just learned. It sounded like something straight out of a fantasy novel. Actually, scratch that, a horror novel. But as she watches Robin animatedly talk about it, watches her process her emotions of the entire deal, she finds it hard to call her best friend a liar. Robin had no reason to lie about all of this.

“It’s just insane , Rob. And you said these kids already dealt with this shit? That Steve had already been involved once? How does that even happen?” 

“Honestly? I don’t know. Maybe he had his own version of Russian code they needed him to crack.”

“Steve doesn’t know Russian.”

“I know that. I just mean, the way they needed me to crack the Russian code. Maybe they needed him for something like that. He was looking after Dustin and the kids after his breakup with Nancy.” 

“I…” Willow trails off, realization hitting her, “Oh my God! Henderson is involved! Steve’s kid from the mall! Oh my God, that kid is fighting monsters while I’m still scared of the dark ?” 

“You’re still scared of the dark?” Robin questions with a giggle. 

Willow reaches behind her and grabs a pillow, chucking it in Robin’s direction. “Shut up.” 

“You’re never living that down.”

“I know,” Willow sighs as she uncurls her legs and lifts herself off her bed, “But the point here isn’t my irrational fear. The point is… monsters exist, and they exist in Hawkins?” she originally meant for her sentence to come out as a statement, something to solidify all that Robin had just clued her into. The waver in her voice has it coming out as a question. 

“Yep.” 

“And you technically helped fight them?”

“Crazy, right?”

“And so did Steve…” Willow trails off, staring into the carpet as she tries to picture Steve Harrington being a hero. It isn’t a hard concept to wrap her head around. Honestly, it’s easier to accept that than the part about monsters.

“Alright, I know that look. You’re fantasizing about Steve, aren’t you? Actually, don’t answer that, I don’t want to know,” Robin says as she stretches her arms out above her head with a yawn, “I’m sorry, I know this is a lot to take in.” 

Willow snaps out of her daze easily. “I mean, yeah. But… What am I supposed to do? Just not believe you?” 

“You say that as if you’ve never called me a liar. I distinctly remember trying to be the first one to tell you that Nancy broke up with Steve and you responded with, and I quote, ‘Bullshit’.” 

Willow doesn’t respond, instead beginning to pace her room. 

“Or what about when Steve first got hired on at Scoops? You claimed the Steve Harrington would never be so desperate for money as to put on a sailor outfit!”

“I get it, Robin!” Willow finally sighs, “I’ve called you a liar plenty of times. But you wouldn’t lie about something this big, right?” 

Robin doesn’t respond, instead shrugging with her shoulders as her eyes follow Willow’s pacing. 

“B-But if you’re telling the truth then…then…my fear of the dark for example! It’s not insane. Jesus Christ, Robin, there are monsters in Hawkins,” Willow exclaims as she tosses her arms about, accidentally reminding herself of the outage as she glances into the darkest corners of her room. Her eyes land on the abyss she can see a glimpse of under the edge of her bed. 

“There were monsters. Not anymore,” Robin finally stands, casually stepping right in front of the space Willow had been staring down, “We defeated them. Don’t worry, you can thank us later, but for now… just, please don’t freak out. And don’t mention to Steve that you know about the monsters. We aren’t supposed to tell anybody. Look, let’s talk about something else! Like…like… What were you doing before I showed up?”

Willow pauses, wanting to say so much more on the topic. But there’s a pleading look in Robin’s eyes that tells Willow to let it go, to move on despite how much this knowledge has shook her to her core. So instead of pressing the issue, she says, “Ironically? I was calling you when the outage happened.”

“Really? Damn, my timing is good.” 

“Uh huh,” Willow agrees, grabbing the now empty plate off of the center of her bed, “Impeccable, really.”

“So why were you calling me? Please tell me I've missed something absolutely bat-shit crazy during your week,” Robin trails along behind her, both girls' eyes now adjusted to the dark so they no longer need the flashlight as they make their way to the kitchen.

“It’s not quite bat-shit crazy,” Willow admits, “It was just me driving myself insane.” 

“Over what?”

“I’ll give you two guesses.”

“ Oh . Oh my God, Willow! Wait, is it about Steve? I might have an update on that,” Robin excitedly says, bouncing on the heels of her feet as Willow places the plate into the sink. 

Willow gives her a strange look, only mildly concerned. “Update? Should I be worried?” 

“Nope! It’s good! Very good!” Robin continues to bounce as she exclaims this, and Willow leans on the counter behind herself as she faces the girl who’s currently resembling a puppy, “So it is about Steve?”

“Yeah, but honestly? Let’s not talk about that,” Willow looks at her best friend and realizes that really, boy talk is the last thing she wants. She missed Robin. And on top of that, her head is still reeling from all the information she’s just been overloaded with ( she means, seriously? Monsters? In Hawkins? ).

Robin looks surprised, but recovers quickly with a grin. “Okay, cool. I’ll just keep my little secret to myself,” she wiggles her eyebrows as she says this, “Is there something else on your mind, though?” 

Willow thinks for a moment, looking over at her refrigerator. Her eyes catch sight of some school photos from elementary school that her mom keeps captured with a ‘Welcome to California’ magnet. She’s never understood that magnet; she doesn’t think her mom has ever even been to California. 

“I wanna dye my hair before school starts,” Willow admits, finally looking back to meet Robin’s gaze. Somewhere between her pining and her reading this week, Willow found herself deciding she needed a change for senior year. It didn’t have to be major, just enough to feel slightly monumental to herself. Outside change to distract from all the internal change she was sure to face this year.

 She tenses her shoulders in preparation for a lecture. 

“Dye? Like, go to a salon or…” Robin makes a slight face as she asks this, clearly not liking where this is going. 

“Nope. I want to do it right here at home.”

“That is such a bad idea.” 

“I wanna go ginger. Like, darker ginger. Nothing crazy.”

“That’s an even worse idea.”

“My hair’s already brown, it can’t be that hard to make it ginger.” 

“You’re going to end up bald.”

“I was thinking you could help me do it tomorrow.” 

“What time?” 

By the end of their back-and-forth bickering of the idea, both girls are grinning ear-to-ear. This has always been how their friendship worked - if one of them had a terrible idea, they both had a terrible idea. In eighth grade, just two months after Willow had first met Robin and confided in her that her mother had promised to take her to get her ears pierced for two years now with no prevail, they tried to pierce their ears by themselves at home with a lighter stolen from Willow’s mother and a needle stolen from Robin’s mother. They only managed to do Robin’s right ear and Willow’s left ear, and Robin’s mother had to angrily take them to get their other ears pierced the next day in town. Freshman year of high school, Robin decided for the first time she wanted to cut her hair. Short . Practically a pixie cut. Her mother refused, going on and on about how unladylike it would be. And so the night before their first day of high school, Robin sat on Willow’s toilet as Willow took a pair of her mother’s sharpest kitchen scissors to Robin’s hair (They were both grounded the entire first month of school for that one). There was also the time in which they could never agree on who had the ridiculous idea to go camp in the woods behind Willow’s house with nothing but sleeping bags and a stolen bottle of rum from their parents, but they stayed by each other’s side that entire night, matching bright pink noses and egos glowing. Every time Robin Buckley decided to cross a busy road, Willow Jenkins was right there behind her every step of the way. Nothing had changed over the years. And nothing ever would as long as the two were best friends.

“Wanna just sleep over and go get the stuff first thing in the morning?” Willow suggests.

Robin doesn’t even hesitate. “Absolutely I do. You still have my Blondie shirt?” 

“Okay, that is so not your Blondie shirt,” Willow rolls her eyes as she pushes off the counter, “But yes, I do. I think you also left a pair of shorts here that my mom washed.” 

“Sick!” Robin doesn’t even wait for Willow, practically sprinting towards her bedroom. 

“Robin! Rob- it is still dark Buckley! Slow down, be careful !”

Chapter Text

“It’s fucking red , Robin!” 

Robin Buckley wasn’t able to often brag about being right, especially to Willow Jenkins. And as both girls met each other’s wild gazes in the mirror, they both knew this moment would go down in their history.

“I told you not to trust me with your hair and chemicals! What do I look like, a chemist?” 

“No, but-”

“Maybe a hairstylist? I mean, I do cut my own bangs-”

“Buckley!” Willow snaps, looking miserably in the mirror. They had gone to the store this morning, buying up box hair dye that promised soft, autumn ginger. But Willow’s hair, even though it was wet, was very clearly not the soft ginger promised. 

It was firetruck red. 

“It’s not even that bad,” Robin starts to reassure her, “I think it looks badass. It could have turned out like, green or something. So at least we stayed in the warmer color range!” 

“It’s red ,” Willow continues to whine, absolutely stunned. A heavy pit of anxiety settled in her stomach as she realized she had to go out in public like this, that everyone at school would see. And her mother, her sweet mother had no idea what idiotic idea she and Robin had gotten into this time. 

“What’s the commotion?” With impeccable timing, Willow’s mother, Anna, suddenly appears in the bathroom door frame. 

Her fatigue is clear on her face, the hazel eyes she passed down to her daughter dreary with sleep. She had obviously just woken up, messy bed head and all.

“Nothing!” Robin squeaks as Willow grabs for a towel to cover her hair. She probably should have warned her mother of the drastic change she had planned. 

It takes a moment before Anna registers her daughter’s hair. “What did you do ?”

“Mom, listen-” 

“Your hair!” she fusses, walking over and flinging the towel off of Willow’s head, “I… Willow, please just tell me this is a wig.” 

Instead of answering with her words, Willow reaches up and tugs on a crimson strand. 

“If it helps, we were going for ginger,” Robin sheepishly defends, lifting the box out of the trash. 

“H-how…” Anna trails off, shaking her head, “Well, at least tell me you like it?” 

Willow responds with, “I hate it!” at the same time Robin chimes in, “I think it looks lovely!” 

Anna groans, “Oh, my sweet, sweet Willow. I don’t have the money to take you somewhere to get this fix-”

“What? No, mom. It’s okay. I dug my grave, I’ll lay in it,” Willow rushes out, not enjoying the prospect of forcing her mother to spend any unnecessary money on her, “Maybe it’ll fade ginger.” 

“Maybe,” Anna murmurs, running her fingers through, cringing when the wetness left behind on her fingertips is tinged scarlett, “Be careful of going to bed with wet hair for a while, love. I don’t think you want your pillowcases to match your hair.” 

“I will. Go back to bed,” Willow insists, grabbing her mom’s hand from her scalp. 

Robin nods beside her. “Yeah, go catch up on rest, Miss J. I’ll take care of her.” 

Anna gives a teasing look at Robin before humming a farewell, walking back out. Neither girl says a word until they hear the click of her bedroom door. 

“Well, that went well,” Robin chides. 

Willow can’t even argue with that, Robin’s right. She had been bracing herself for a much worse reaction. “Yeah. It did.” 

A silence blankets over the bathroom as Willow maneuvers to find her blow dryer, pulling out a round brush and avoiding looking into the mirror at all costs until it’s absolutely necessary. As she pulls her hair roughly, she watches the shades that burst to life in her hair. It’s not that the color wasn’t pretty – it simply wasn’t her. It was bold and lively, something that begged for attention. Willow was none of those things. She had only survived high school thus far by being a complete wall flower, only focusing on two things: being Robin Buckley’s best friend, and getting good grades. Starting off senior year with this hair was going to go against every routine she’d perfected over the last three years. 

“Hey, so, last night before I rushed over here,” Robin starts once Willow puts down the dryer, “Steve was talking about the three of us going out. Said after that shit show we deserved a drink.”

“Sounds great, except for the part where none of us are old enough to get into bars,” Willow huffs, before sarcastically adding, “Oh yeah, and the part where I look like a goddamn clown.” 

“You don’t look that bad! And Steve said he knows a place,” Robin walks over to Willow, already making puppy dog eyes. 

Willow has a hard time saying no to Robin to begin with, and between the glossy eyes and the knowledge that she and Steve basically went to hell and back the night before, she knows she has no choice. “What’s the name of this…place?” 

She shouldn’t be shocked when not even an hour later, Robin is dragging her out to Steve’s car. 

“Ahoy, ladies! Welco-” Steve cuts himself off at the sight of Willow, “Holy shit.” 

Robin is about to say something, probably in Willow’s defense, but she immediately holds up a hand. “It’s awful, isn't it?”

“I wouldn’t say-” Steve begins to say but Willow interrupts him.

“Be honest with me, Harrington, or so help me God, I’ll shave your head,” she threatens. 

“Hey!” Steve physically moves himself and presses into his driver’s side door, putting distance between himself and Willow, “Just because you fucked up your hair doesn’t mean you have to come for mine next!” 

“So you agree? It’s bad?” Willow questions, pressing closer over the center console of Steve’s car.

Steve clearly contemplates his next sentence. Willow watches as his eyes move in panic between Willow and Robin, and the sound of Robin clearly mouthing something over Willow’s shoulder reaches her ears. 

“Robin, stop coaching Steve on what to say. Harrington, lay it on me.”

“Honest truth?”

“Honest truth.”

“It’s kind of hot.” 

Out of all the responses to her hair she’d expected from Steve, it wasn’t that one. Both immediately flush red. Willow has never turned her head to look out the window faster. She barely even catches sight of Robin, grinning giddily, in the rearview mirror. Steve, on the other hand, sees it as he immediately looks to Robin in panic. 

“See! I told you!” Robin breaks the tension immediately, absolutely beaming at her two friends, “You’re welcome. Tell all your friends about the accidental genius that is Robin’s salon.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” Willow mumbles as she finally gathers the courage to face her friends again. She was almost dizzy as she processed what had just occurred. 

Steve called me hot.

She’s sure he meant nothing of it, but it didn’t stop her heart from racing and her palms from turning clammy. 

“Alright,” Steve finally awkwardly says, situating himself into a driving position, “Let’s go celebrate, shall we, ladies?”

Robin bounces her knees excitedly and Willow forces a smile, hoping her blush can be blamed on the new hair rather than the thoughts piling through her head at the moment. 

As Steve drives the three of them towards the outskirts of town, they mostly allow the silence to be filled with the radio. There’s the occasional sounds of distress that come from Robin in the backseat, clearly meant to be complaints of Steve’s driving without saying anything. 

“Buckley, put on your seatbelt,” Steve finally sighs as they reach a particularly bumpy stretch of road. 

Robin doesn’t respond, instead glancing outside the windows of the car at the scenery bathed in the golden light of the sunset. “Where are we even going?” 

“Seatbelt, seriously,” Steve presses further, glaring through the rearview mirror, “And the only bar in town I know that doesn’t card. The Hideout.” 

“The Hideout? Don’t they have live music?” Willow asks, the name of the bar sounding familiar. She just couldn’t put her finger on where she’d seen or heard of it before. 

Steve shrugs. “Eh, sometimes. But no one good, most people only go because it’s cheap and the whole ‘doesn’t card’ situation.” 

Willow nods, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, still racking her mind for where she’d heard of the bar before. She doesn’t even notice Steve’s gaze linger on her until she sees a deer in the distance. She awaits Steve to start slowing down for the deer, which hasn’t fully crossed yet, but he’s still barrelling full speed ahead. 

“Steve,” she says softly, finally looking over, slightly worried. He looks to have just snapped out of a daze. 

“Yeah?”

He’s still not slowing down. 

“Steve!” she finally shouts, reaching over for the steering wheel. Steve finally looks forward and gasps, his own hands covering Willow’s as they swerve the car to narrowly avoid the deer. 

“Jesus christ!” Robin screams from the back, flailing herself as they jerk back into their lane. 

Willow doesn’t remove her hands immediately, softly panting from anxiety. Her hair is overflowing her shoulders, now in her line of sight. She doesn’t even see Steve as he begins to stammer, looking ready to keel over in embarrassment. 

“Holy shit, oh my god. I’m so sorry guys! Fuck, shit,” Steve rambles. He finally removes the hand over Willow’s to run it through his hair, clearly stressed. It’s only once the warmth is gone that Willow begins to miss it.

“Steven Harrington, you better have a damn good excuse for almost committing vehicular manslaughter,” Willow finally says as her hands return back to her lap. The entire car is clearly shaken. 

“I…I just got distracted. I’m really sorry-” Steve’s face flashes with enough guilt that Willow is prepared to no longer scold him, but they both suddenly hear a soft click from the backseat. Willow turns, giving a warning glance at Steve to keep his eyes on the road. 

There in the backseat, Robin is pale faced, but finally buckled in. 

—

“Are you sure they’re not going to card us?” Robin asks for the fourth time since they’ve parked (Willow was keeping count). 

“Rob, I’m positive. Also, all drinks are on me tonight considering I nearly killed us on the way here,” Steve is walking backwards to face the two girls as they walk through the parking lot towards the small bar. It’s in the middle of nowhere, the forest surrounding it. It’s shape resembles a single-story log cabin, the only thing giving away that it’s a bar being the large wooden sign that sticks out of the top, purposely cut with jagged edges and a messy paint job spelling out “The Hideout”in larger letters and “dive bar and live music” in smaller script, all in obnoxious yellow paint. 

“Damn right they are, Harrington. Also, aren’t you drinking? Do I have your blessing to drive us all home tonight?” Willow asks, quirking an eyebrow. 

“No, it’s okay, I can be DD,” Steve insists, waving his hands as if to physically dissipate that idea. 

“I’m not sure I love the idea of you driving us back home without Jenkins sober enough to save the day when you try to finish what you started with that deer,” Robin grumbles, and Willow throws her head back in laughter. When she recovers, she watches Steve stumble over his steps as he’s so focused on his friends he isn’t watching where he’s walking.

“Alright, Harrington. First of all, walk like a normal person,” at this, he immediately faces forward and falls into step on Willow’s right. “Second of all, I’m DD tonight. After all the shit you guys saw this last week…” Willow trails off.

“Oh, yeah, speaking of, how much… erm, how much did Rob tell you?” Steve asks, clearly trying to stay casual. 

“Enough, we’ll all talk about it later,” Willow reassures him. She wasn’t in the mood to talk about monsters while in the middle of the woods, with a quickly setting sun to their backs. Besides, she hadn’t forgotten her promise to Robin - Steve wasn’t to know that Willow knew monsters existed.

“Okay.” 

She hadn’t expected Steve to agree so easily. But she could still see the injuries Robin had described to her, the black eye still swollen and the busted lip still a sore shade of pink. It made her chest clench. Tonight, she really just wanted her friends to have a good time. And if that meant being sober, it was a small price to pay.

The moment they walk into the bar, Willow takes note in how the building is split. To her right, there’s several round tables, even a few booths that had clearly seen better days. In the far right corner, the bar lays secluded, with plenty of seating wrapping around it. This side of the bar is lifted slightly, and spreads a little over halfway across the building. It ends abruptly with railing, that stretches all the way to nearly the entrance. On the left of the railing, there’s a small stage, an empty dance floor with sparse standing tables closest to the railing. 

“Wow,” Robin says, not looking particularly impressed.

“It’ll do,” Steve mumbles, leading the girls to the bar immediately. 

The space wasn’t particularly large, especially with all the stools and tables packed in. Despite the bar seating space occupying more space, the area designated for live music felt larger simply due to the openness of it all. 

“Is a band playing tonight?” Willow asks as she catches sight of a few guys on the small stage setting up a drumset. 

Steve shrugs, “I’m not really sure. Like I said, most people don’t come for the live music.” 

Willow took in the other customers already there. There were two older gentlemen sitting at the bar, both hunched over with several seats between them. Clearly, neither were here to socialize. As Willow’s eyes looked at the standing tables at the other side of the railing, she noticed that older gentlemen were the primary audience tonight. Two were standing in conversation over beer at the tables, and another was talking to a woman about his age, seeming to be holding a glass of whiskey. The woman had on cut off shorts and a tight, cropped t-shirt. 

It was an interesting scene to say the least. 

“We could ask the bartender!” Robin suggests, starting to pass Steve, but he holds out an arm immediately. 

“ Or ,” he pointedly says as he makes eye contact with her, both stopped dead in their tracks, “We just mind our business and find out here within, I’d say like, an hour? If a band’s performing it won’t be long before they take the stage.” 

Willow nods at Steve’s plan, not in the mood to really talk to most of the characters surrounding them. They take their seats at the bar, in three seats close to the door. The bar is shaped like an L, the longest span having patrons sit with their backs to the stage. The two stools Robin and Willow occupy lay in the shorter stretch, where the stage is now in their left peripheral. Steve takes the stool on the corner next to Willow, his back to the stage. 

She doesn’t pay much mind as her friends order something once the bartender makes his way to them. She’s watching the final pieces of a drum set be set up, and swears the back of the boy’s head who’s setting it up looks familiar. Once he moves out of the way and somewhere offstage, she looks at the logo on the front of the kick drum. 

It’s a coffin outline with a bat overlapping it, clearly hand painted by the faint smearing along the edges and an obvious drip coming off of one of the bat’s wings. 

“That’s…cool,” Robin comments from beside Willow. 

Willow is sitting closest to the stage, with Robin peering around her. “Yeah, I guess.” 

Her attention is finally  forced back onto her friends as the bartender places the drinks order in front of the three. Willow realizes that, just as Steve promised, no one was carded. 

“I’m not drinking,” she says, starting to push away the tall glass of dark liquid that was sitting in front of her.

“Relax,” Steve chuckles, “It’s plain coke.”

“Oh,” she mumbles, only partially embarrassed as she takes the straw in the drink between her two fingers and swirls it. Once the glass is closer, she hears the fizz and can clearly smell that it is Coca-cola. 

“So, I guess you’re wanting to know more about the mall incident,” Steve starts once they’re all clearly settled in and more comfortable. 

Willow immediately shrugs, “Something about Russians, right? Like some crazy crime-ring underground thing went down and the mall got burnt down?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve looks relieved, probably happy that Robin seemingly didn’t mention the monsters, “Did she mention how the Russians god damn kidnapped us?” 

At this, Willow immediately reaches over and brushes a thumb over one of the bruises painting Steve’s face, scrunching up her face. “Yeah, she also mentioned how brave you were and shit. Please stop being so stupid, though, Harrington. I’d like to keep you around a bit longer, preferably without a severe concussion.” 

Steve waves her hand away, “I’m fine. It’s fine.” 

It’s not addressed how Willow just called Steve brave, or how her touch probably lingered on his injury a second too long. 

Robin opens her mouth, ready to ruin whatever moment that had just materialized between the friends, when there’s a sharp whine of an amp being hooked up to an electric guitar. The lights of the bar dim slightly, and Robin scoffs as Willow’s hair whips into her face from how quickly she turns her head.  

“Wow,” Robin starts sarcastically, “Your hair almost tastes as good as it looks Willo-” 

She’s cut off by Willow’s gasp. “Holy shit .” 

The shock in her voice is enough to force both her friends to focus their attention on the stage as well. Just in time to see him push a hand through his hair before he clears his throat into the mic, an electric guitar strapped across his body as one hand clutches the neck. 

“Hello, everybody! We’re Corroded Coffin!” None other than Eddie Munson yells into the front mic.

Chapter Text

“Hello, everybody! We’re Corroded Coffin!” None other than Eddie Munson yells into the front mic. 

Willow doesn’t know how to react as she takes in the scene in front of her. She’d heard rumors that Eddie played the guitar, but it had never occurred to her he might have a band. A band that actually plays gigs. A band that he was the lead in. 

“Holy shit ,” Robin echoes Willow’s shocked statement, leaning in closer to catch a better sight of the boys on stage.

Steve has already turned back around to face Willow. “Since when did the freak have a band?” 

Willow is about to agree with him, encompassed with shock and confusion, when the drummer counts in the first few chords of the band. The song is familiar, but Willow can’t put a name to it. She’s almost entranced as she watches Eddie play his guitar, fingers moving at what feels like an impossible pace to her. With each movement, she can see his rings glint in the terrible lighting that’s pointed directly towards the stage. She can’t look away, clearly gawking as her mind now has to process Eddie Munson and his secret band on top of all else she’s learned in the last twenty four hours. 

She’s only pulled from her trance when Steve clears his throat. 

“This is insane,” she grumbles, focusing on her coke in front of her. 

“That’s one way to describe it,” Steve agrees, throwing back the rest of his drink. Robin is still shamelessly staring at the band on stage, seeming to enjoy the performance as she nurses her drink. 

Steve waves over the bartender and orders another drink, but Willow can’t hear him clearly until he turns to her. “So, I gotta ask, why the hair change?”

“Why not?” Willow counters, raising her voice over the music. 

Steve shrugs, smiling softly at her. “I dunno, didn’t take you as a fiery redhead, I guess.”

“Can I be honest?” Willow questions, and Steve is leaning in even closer to her, his knee bumping against hers, “I meant to just go more boring ginger. But somehow, me and Robin royally fucked up.” 

Steve throws his head back in laughter, Adam’s apple bobbing and hair bouncing. Robin takes notice in the conversation now, sending a suggestive glance Willow’s way.

“What’s so funny?” Robin asks, her shoulder meeting Willow’s as she presses in close enough to hear the conversation. 

“I was just telling Steve about how shitty of a hairstylist you are. You aren’t getting a tip, you know,” Willow teases softly, leaning against Robin and tilting her head. 

From there, easy conversation flows between the three friends, as it always does. Robin and Steve continue to throw back drinks, and Willow eventually moves onto a second coke. She manages to stay focused fairly well, but still catches herself glancing towards Corroded Coffin on stage. She may not know Eddie well, but she can tell he’s passionate about music. He’s throwing himself into every song as if he’s performing at Madison Square Garden, not just some hole-in-the-wall dive bar. And he’s talented. As his fingers fret along the neck of his guitar, Willow is left in momentary awe at the sound that it emits. It’s not her favorite genre of music, something heavier and grittier than her taste, but it’s still mesmerizing and enjoyable. 

“Willow? Earth to Willow? C’mon, are you even listening?” Robin is waving her hand in front of Willow’s face during a moment of weakness in which she’s infatuated with the performance. 

“Huh?” Willow questions, realizing her body had twisted to the side to enjoy the performance more. As she glances around the bar, she realizes she might have been the only one truly focused on the band. 

“We were talking about new jobs. Robin thinks she can get us all hired at that Family Video off of Oak street, would you be down?” Steve explains, looking slightly irritated. Or maybe wounded. Willow isn’t quite sure what the explanation for the crease between his eyebrows would be. 

Nevertheless, Willow nods excitedly, “All I’m hearing is I’ll get paid to annoy you guys while you try to work this time around. I’m so down.” 

Robin giggles, clearly growing tipsier, “Exactly! Imagine how fun that would be! Besides, then we’ll always get first dibs on whatever new movies come in. We wouldn’t want a repeat of what happened with Sixteen Candles.” 

“Hey!” Willow defends herself, remembering the incident she was referring to clearly, “It’s not my fault that Jenny Adams is such a bitch.” 

“ No, never. You’re an absolute angel and definitely didn’t trip her after she snatched that last copy from you,” Steve joins in the teasing, “You definitely didn’t smirk when you saw the rug burn on her knees.” 

“I didn’t!” Willow laughs loudly, and it’s then that she realizes the bar has become increasingly quiet. 

Corroded Coffin has finished their set. She tries to slow herself as she whips to look at the stage this time, raking in the sight of a sweaty Eddie who’s grinning back at his drummer. Willow finally realizes the boy situated on the drums is Garth, the same friend who accompanied Eddie at Scoops. 

“So, what’s going on between you and Munson?” Steve asks, his voice dripping with something sour. Willow looks at him, and that crease is back between his brows. 

“What do you mean?” Willow is confused, genuinely confused. She’s never expressed interest in Eddie, or even discussed him. Honestly, she forgot he existed until he showed up at Scoops last week. 

Steve waves his hand lazily between Willow and the stage, trying to come off as nonchalant. He’s failing, miserably so, as he says, “You’ve been eyeing him all night, just like you did last week at Scoops.” 

“Haven’t we already had this conversation, Steve?” Robin interrupts, words surprisingly clear for how drunk she was clearly becoming as she swayed in her seat, “Who cares if Willow likes him? She can look. She’s a free woman.” 

“I never said she couldn’t!” Steve’s hands are now thrown up in defense as he and Robin stare each other down, now speaking without words. Even sober, Willow doesn’t understand the communication happening in their gazes. 

“Someone just sounds a little jealous if you ask me,” Robin finally settles her eyes on Willow, smiling like a fool. Her eyes were glossy, but Willow could still find that troubling sparkle in them when she was up to no good. 

Steve scoffs, truly scoffs. Willow tries not to read too far into it as he says, “Why would I be jealous?” 

Willow is looking back at the stage, trying to even her breathing. The band is nowhere to be seen.  

“I don’t know, you tell me, Steve .” It’s the way Robin says his name, as if daring him. She clearly knows something that Willow doesn’t, and Steve seemingly wants to keep it that way.

She wishes it wouldn’t bother her so much. There’s an ache, though, there in her ribs, as she processes the way he’d brushed off being jealous. The scoff, the tone in his voice as if him being jealous of a man catching Willow’s attention was absurd.

And it was. Steve didn’t like Willow, not in that way, and Willow had convinced herself that she’d come to accept that. She had to accept that. That’s how reality works. 

“It’s just like I said at Scoops,” Steve is slurring his words slightly now, “I think she’s too good for all of the Hawkins’ boys, not just Munson.” 

It happened in slow motion. As Steve says this, glaring down Robin, Willow catches movement from the corner of her eye. Brushing behind Steve is Eddie Munson, in the flesh. 

She’s hoping, praying even, he didn’t catch his name brought up in the conversation. She should know now she’s not lucky enough for that. 

Eddie steps up to the bar counter besides Steve, clad in a leather jacket he wasn’t wearing on stage. His hair is a mess, frizzy and wild, and Willow can see his bangs stick to his forehead from sweat. At first, it seems they’ve gotten away with it. Steve and Robin are still in their own imaginary fighting ring, fists held high, and Willow is holding her breath. And then, painfully slowly and subtly, Eddie glances at Steve at his side after putting a hand up to the bartender. 

“Didn’t know you knew my name, Harrington. Try not to wear it out.” 

Steve freezes, and Robin immediately diverts her gaze to Willow, who has her gaze on the counter. Jesus Christ , she thinks, we look guilty as hell .

“Munson!” Steve jumps to life, putting on far too peppy of an attitude, “Didn’t even see you there! How’ve you been?” 

The confusion is clear on Eddie’s face when Willow jumps and glances up at Steve’s outburst. Eddie takes a second, slowly assessing Steve before his eyes glance across Willow and Robin. 

“Jesus, you’re plastered,” he muses, smirking softly. Robin lets out a snort, nodding in agreement and swaying in her chair again . Willow reaches out a hand to steady her. “So are you. Guess I missed the memo.” 

“Memo?” Robin hiccups, “No memo here, Eddie. Just a couple of friends, having a good time, you know. Just the us’,” Robin drags out the last syllable of her sentence, growing heavier against Willow’s hand that was still propping her up straight on her stool. 

“This is how you guys spend every Friday night? Weird. Never seen you here before,” Eddie muses, eyes finally meeting Willow’s. He raises his eyebrows, smile widening at her. 

“It’s not,” Willow corrects her friends, “This is our first time. Or at least, my first time. And Robin’s. Steve said it was the only ba-” she cuts herself off as the bartender comes down to Eddie and hands him a drink that looks similar to Willow’s same glass and dark color. She even sees bubbles of carbonation floating up through the drink. 

Eddie says a small thank you, nodding appreciatively and taking a sip before returning his focus to Willow. “It was the only what?” 

“What?” 

“You were saying that Steve said it was the only something.” 

Willow waits for the bartender to go back to the other side of the bar. When she does speak up, it’s softly, almost a whisper, “The only bar that doesn’t card.” 

 “You don’t have to whisper. They know what they’re known for, sweetheart,” Eddie laughs shortly. 

Willow isn’t given a chance to respond as Steve straightens up the moment Eddie says ‘sweetheart’. “So, Munson, I didn’t know your little band was still a thing.” 

Willow has to physically hold back from rolling her eyes, recognizing the pissing contest that was about to ensue. Robin clearly recognized it as well as she finally held herself up without Willow’s hand. The two girls exchange a look, matching wide eyes and pursed lips. 

“Yeah, yeah, not to brag but,” Eddie says, completely unphased by what Steve was trying to do, waving towards the stage, “We’re pretty badass, as you probably saw.” 

Time slows as Steve is glaring at Eddie, his eyes flickering to Willow before saying, “I’ve seen better.” 

Eddie’s attempt at a friendly smile immediately falters.

“So what are you drinking, Eddie?” Willow interrupts the two, leaning onto her elbows and trying to get the attention of the two boys. Her heart’s racing with anxiety at the confrontation between the two. She knows Steve had a bad week, and now that he’s drunk, he’s reckless. She doesn’t want to break up a bar fight tonight. Especially not between Steve and Eddie. 

Eddie, surprisingly, doesn’t ignore her question, “Coke. And really, Steve? I’m curious. What band was it? Was it maybe your own?” 

Steve opens his mouth to respond, clearly ready to continue to stir shit up, but Eddie beats him to it, his smile no longer kind. He looks like a genuine asshole as he says, “Oh wait, I forgot. You can’t play an instrument, just girls, right?” 

“At least girls like me, freak,” Steve snaps, palms smacking onto the bar top. 

“Okay, nope,” Willow stands up, leaning over and yanking what drink was left in front of Steve away, “You’re cut off. You’re being mean, Steve.” 

“Oh, I don’t think it’s the alcohol that’s making him mean,” Eddie bitterly laughs, “Harrington here is a natural born asshole. Have a good night.” 

Eddie storms off, leaving behind his coke. The bartender glances up, but no emotion crosses his face. 

“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ, Harrington,” Willow grumbles, Steve looking up at her with soft eyes. “Why’d you do that?”

“Do what?” he asks innocently. She knows it’s an act. 

She shakes her head as she wiggles away from the bar, away from Steve, and points at Robin. “Keep you and asshole here out of trouble. I’m doing damage control.”

“We don’t need damage control! He’s a freak, Jenkins!” Steve drunkenly complains. 

Willow hardly hears him as she’s briskly walking out the door that Eddie had just stormed out of moments before. She isn’t even sure he’s outside, he could already be in his car and driving home for all she knows. Maybe he’s squealing out of the parking lot and planning ways to kick Steve Harrington’s ass. 

Honestly, Steve deserves it. 

The moment she walks out the doors, the summer night engulfs her. It’s still fairly warm, but there’s a cool breeze that warns of autumn. Her eyes adjust to the minimal lighting outside as she smells Eddie before she sees him. It’s hard to miss the scent of a cigarette, especially as the smoke hits you in the face. 

“Eddie,” she sighs, making her way over to where he’s leaning against the wall, lit cigarette between pursed lips. 

He looks shocked to see her, immediately pulling the cigarette back and blowing the smoke out quickly in the opposite direction of her, “Hey there, Red.” 

“My name’s Willow,” she corrects, taken back from the nickname. 

“Nice to meet you, Willow. And before you ask, I’m not apologizing to your little friend,” he flicks the ashes off of his cigarette towards the ground between them. 

“Good, don’t. He was being an asshole,” Willow encourages, taking a step closer and wrapping her arms around her body. “I was actually coming out here to apologize for him. I’m pretty sure he’s too drunk to do it himself right now.” 

Eddie laughs bitterly. “No, yeah, of course. Makes sense that Harrington can’t apologize for himself.” 

At this, Willow finally becomes defensive. She knows Steve was being a dick, and understands why Eddie got upset, but she knows Steve wouldn’t act this way sober. 

“He’s had a hard week,” she means to sound more confident than she does, her voice breaking softly as her eyes start to flicker to the trees around the building. A shiver runs down her spine, “Cut him some slack.” 

“He never cut me any slack.” 

At this, Willow grows curious. And then it all clicks, “You knew him before Wheeler?” 

“Everyone knew him before Wheeler,” Eddie sighs, raises his eyebrows and leaning in Willow’s direction after a drag of his cigarette. She notes the way he’s still making the effort to blow his smoke away from her. “But yeah, we knew each other. He’d harass me at school, I’d egg him on like a little shit, his little gang would give me more hell… You know, the classic friendship cycle. Just two peas in a pod.” 

Willow now moves even closer to Eddie. She tells herself it’s because she wants to hear more from an outside perspective of Steve before she properly became friends with him, not because the thoughts of monsters in Hawkins are still fresh.

Another shiver runs down her spine. 

“I’m sorry. He definitely used to be an ass-” 

“Still is. Clearly.” 

“I…” Willow can’t even defend him, she knows it. It doesn’t look good on Steve’s part when Eddie was acting friendly before he stirred everything up. She finally turns and throws her back against the wall next to Eddie, “Yeah. Sometimes. I promise he’s gotten better though, if that’s any ease to your mind.” 

“You don’t have to ease my mind, Red,” there’s that nickname again, a soft sigh from his lips, “Also, here.” 

Willow is confused when Eddie places the last bit of his cigarette between his lips, his back leaving the wall as he’s suddenly shimmying out of his leather jacket. She’s too stunned to speak as he suddenly holds it out to her. When she doesn’t immediately reach out to grab it, he tilts his head and shakes the jacket lightly. 

“C’mon, you’re shivering like all hell. I promise it’s not contaminated,” he jokes, smiling around the cigarette. She decides the jump in her chest is from nerves at the prospect of her friends missing her longer, of possibly coming to her rescue drunkenly and finding her in Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson’s leather jacket as he smokes beside her. 

Another breeze blows, another shiver runs, and Willow finally takes the invitation of the jacket. As she wraps herself up in it, she inhales. The remnants of cigarette smoke are the most overwhelming scent, but she can catch hints of several other boyish smells, something woodsy beneath it all. 

It’s kind of nice. 

“‘Atta girl,” Eddie encourages as he takes the cigarette from his mouth. Smoke is leaking out from between his lips as he finally tosses the butt to the ground and stomps on it. 

Willow is sure she’s blushing. She hadn’t expected Eddie Munson to be charming in the slightest, honestly. “Thank you. Y-You didn’t have to….I mean, I-” she cuts off and looks down at her outfit for the night. Maybe she could have made a better choice than the thin t-shirt she had on. Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors album cover was wrinkled as she had tied up a knot in the shirt to crop it slightly. She finally stops her stuttering and settles on, “Thank you.” 

“Any time. Even if you are a friend of Steve’s,” he says, and it brings her back to the situation at hand. The argument between him and Steve. Her friends, inside, drunk. 

“You admitted yourself you provoked Steve at times,” Willow makes yet another lame attempt at defending Steve, still feeling that tug to him. 

“He started it,” Eddie replies just as lamely, shoving hands into his pocket as he fishes out his pack of cigarettes and lighter, “If he never bothered me, I would have never provoked him.” 

She wants to laugh, recognizing how childish this all was. The feud between the boys was baseless. “What are you guys, five?” 

“Actually, eight,” Eddie corrects with a teasing glint in his eyes, no longer leaning against the wall next to Willow. He’s not standing directly in front of her, more off to the side, as he places a fresh cigarette into his mouth and lights it. 

“Right, my apologies,” Willow rolls her eyes, “Anyways, like I said. I know he wasn’t the greatest person while in high school, but he’s gotten…better. Normally. He’s just had a week from Hell and too much liquid confidence.” 

“Why are you trying to defend him so hard?” Eddie’s question is muffled by the cigarette. 

“I’m not! I’m just saying,” she straightens her back, taking a step towards Eddie. He immediately takes the cigarette from his mouth and holds it out away from the two of them. It’s a small gesture, but she notices it all the same and appreciates how he clearly doesn’t like to force second-hand smoke down other’s throats. 

“You very much are, Red.”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Why?” 

“Because,” she doesn’t have a good reason, except it makes her chest clench every time he says it. And that was a good enough reason. 

He just stands there, with a wide and foolish grin, hair like a halo around his face. A couple of paces of silence bounce between them before he expectantly raises his eyebrows. 

“What?” Willow asks, wrapping her arms around her waist, the leather jacket tugging tighter around her. She’s almost forgotten it's his. 

“I’m waiting.”

“For what?”

“For a reason.”

“I gave you a reason.”

“ Because is not a reason. It’s not even a full sentence!” 

Willow should think twice before what she says next, but she doesn't, instead impulsively biting back, “Didn’t expect the super, super senior to know that .”

Eddie is stunned. He doesn’t move, not even to bring his cigarette to his lips. And she watches it burn down, wasting away as the seconds pass by. 

“I’m sorry,” she starts to apologize, realizing how out of line her response was. She’s flushed, embarrassed. Something clearly had to be in the air tonight between her and Steve. In her defense, while Steve’s asshole behavior was unexpected, Willow was normally quick-witted. She just forgets that social boundaries exist, and someone who you’ve just started having your first proper conversation with is not the person to tease for not graduating. 

Eddie recovers as his shock melts away, and he does a slow smile, returning back to his unphased self. “It’s fine. Spoken like a true Harrington groupie.” 

“I’m not his groupie,” Willow snaps, suddenly feeling less bad. She usually didn’t mind being grouped with her friends, but the way Eddie says it makes her skin itch. He says it like an insult, as if the worst thing Willow has ever done in her life was make friends with Steve Harrington. 

“Right. And he’s not still drunk, inside, waiting for you.” 

It’s this sentence that clearly brings both Eddie and Willow back to reality. They aren’t friends. Robin and Steve are still inside, waiting for Willow. 

“Right,” Willow finally says, slowly beginning to shrug off his leather jacket. She’s reluctant, especially as she exposes her bicep and feels the breeze immediately nip at it. 

He puts out his cigarette, only half smoked. “Keep it.” 

“What?” 

“The jacket.” 

Willow finishes taking off the jacket and holds it out to him, shaking her head. “No, I’m not keeping your leather jacket. Not happening.” 

“No, seriously, I insist,” he’s smirking, and she’s sure there’s more to it than chivalry. 

“Why?”

“Consider it one last dig at Harrington for that night.” 

Ah. There it is. The punchline. The ulterior motive. 

“He isn’t going to care. Keep your stupid jacket,” Willow insists, holding the jacket out and shaking it similar to how he had when he originally offered it to her. 

Eddie throws back his head, laughing bubbling out. “Yeah, right. Mister ‘ she’s too good for all of the Hawkins’ boys ’. Definitely isn’t going to get under his skin.”

“Jesus, you both are such dicks ,” she doesn’t mean it, but she says it anyways, exasperated tone and all. 

Eddie shrugs, stepping down off the sidewalk and onto the asphalt of the parking lot. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.” 

She doesn’t understand why the nickname gets her so riled up this time, but it does. Maybe it’s a combination of the pissing contest, the jacket, the way his eyes are big and sparkling as he watches her reaction to him. But the blush spreads like wildfire across her cheeks and nose, surely trailing down her neck. She hates it immediately, the warmth becoming too much for her. She doesn’t say another word before twisting on her heel and starting back into the bar, making a point to keep the jacket draped over her arm rather than putting it back on. 

“Hey, Willow!” Eddie’s voice shouts from behind her just as she gets to the door of the bar.

She whips around, almost embarrassed she’s still giving him the time of day. “What do you want, Munson? 

She can’t miss the way his face twitches softly when she calls him by his last name rather than his first. It’s the first time she’s done it tonight. 

“Red’s your color.” 

She isn’t sure if he’s referring to her obvious blush, or her startling hair transformation, but she doesn’t ask. She simply turns her back on him, continuing into the bar for her friends, gripping the new leather jacket now in her possession closer to her body.

Chapter Text

Preparations for school starting were fairly uneventful. Willow had gone over her mental checklists multiple times, being sure to have enough notebooks and binders to begin the year. She’d dug around her room and gathered up any and all pens and pencils she could get her hands on. Her closet was thoroughly inspected, older pieces she no longer wore now in a box for donations and a specific leather jacket hung neatly and clearly separated from the rest of her clothes. 

She could still hear Steve’s reaction clear as day when she had reentered the building that night with Eddie’s jacket. 

Steve’s eyes widened, nearly falling over himself as he stood up. “What is that?” 

“What?” Willow asked, feigning innocence. Robin was smirking. 

“The jacket, is that his?” 

“I…maybe. Let’s get going,” she insisted, holding the keys to Steve’s car up and jingling them. Robin followed her with ease, glossy eyes and all, but Steve stayed put. 

“Maybe? It’s a yes or no question. Is it his jacket? Or is it someone else’s? Because I know you didn’t walk in with it.” 

She felt herself become exasperated as her shoulders slumped. “Why does it matter?” 

“Why does it matter?” Steve asked, sounding incredibly offended, “Why does it matter? It matters because he’s an asshole!” 

Robin looked ready to break her silence, but Willow refused to give her the chance, “And so are you, or at least you have been tonight. Yes, it’s his jacket. Now come on . We’re going home.” 

The ride home had been awkward that night, and Steve hadn’t brought the fight or Eddie back up since then. Willow wasn’t sure if it was out of embarrassment or because he had been too drunk to remember. Part of her truly hopes it was the latter. The other part had avoided the jacket like the plague since. 

But it was hard to ignore the first day of school, as she stands there in front of her closet, only in her underwear. She should have picked out an outfit the night before. She had even thought about it before drifting off to sleep. But her fatigue had won in the early hours of the night, and she hadn’t completed half of her normal first day of school routines. 

“Fuck it,” she mutters as she completely dodges the jacket and grabs a plain white t-shirt instead. She decidingly pairs it with a favorite pair of blue jeans. It’s a plain outfit. Simple. It would help her blend in with ease, which is all she could want from today. 

As she’s zipping up the jeans, adjusting them on her waist, she considers the jacket once more. She knows she’s likely to get cold in class - it’s an easy excuse to wear it. 

She can’t bring herself to. 

She settles on a cardigan instead, soft and creamy tan in color. The disappointment in her stomach doesn’t go unnoticed when she slips it on and all she can smell is her own laundry scent, no trace of the cigarettes or musk she would have been greeted with if she chose Eddie’s jacket. 

As she finishes getting ready for school, splashing her face down with cool water in an attempt to wake herself up further, she thinks more about Eddie. About the way his charisma could come and go so easily, the way he got under Steve’s skin. Most of all, Robin’s ridiculous plan still echoes from the day at the mall. Willow can’t stop thinking about it. At the time, she and Robin had been joking, but after seeing each of Steve’s outbursts after every slight interaction between Eddie and Willow, she’s beginning to consider if it might be her best bet. A one-last-ditch effort to get Steve Harrington to notice her, to face any feelings he harbors for her head-on. But before she could ever approach Eddie Munson with the absurd idea, she needed to figure out what she could offer him in exchange. She needed this deal to not just benefit her, but benefit him as well to guarantee he’d agree. It needed to be a transaction of sorts.

Just looking at herself in the mirror as she entertained the idea caused her face to burn red enough to match her hair. 

She’s in the middle of racking her brain for the fifth time this morning, hands fiddling mindlessly with her hair as she considers an updo, when she can hear Steve honking outside. He offered rides to her and Robin for the school year since he knew neither girl could drive. 

“Oh, shit,” Willow sighs, returning to her room to grab her green backpack, catching sight of the time, “Oh shit .” 

She’s practically sprinting her way out to Steve’s car as she realizes they’re running late. Robin is already in the passenger seat, visor down as she applies makeup. Steve looks slightly irritated, but he immediately perks up at the sight of Willow rushing to throw herself into his backseat.

“Well good morning to you,” he laughs, twisting around to catch sight of her. 

“Yeah, yeah,” she brushes off, only slightly out of breath, “Drive, Harrington. I refuse to be late on the first day.” 

She expects a snarky comeback, but he surprisingly does as she requests, taking off just as she barely clicks her seatbelt into place. 

“I’m so sorry, Willow. It’s one hundred percent my fault and not Steve’s,” Robin looks away from the visor momentarily, now turning in a similar fashion as Steve had when Willow first got into the car, “I may have accidentally slept in.” 

Willow tries to hold a fierce glare at Robin, but she softens at her friend's guilty grin. “I’m buying you an alarm clock for your birthday.”

“I already have an alarm clock.”

“Yeah, well, I’m buying you a louder one.” 

Steve laughs at that, and everyone falls into a comfortable silence after as the radio plays. Robin finishes up her makeup, impressingly so, in between every bump Steve manages to run over. Willow is shocked when Steve pulls into the school parking lot on time despite Robin’s unfortunate case of snooze this morning. 

“Alright, ladies. Now remember: we have our family video interview after you kiddos get out. I’ll pick you both back up right here,” Steve says as he turns, stretching out his arm and placing a hand on the back of Robin’s seat with a smirk as he addresses them. 

Willow scoffs, “Alright, senior citizen. Enjoy your day at the old folks home.” 

Robin cackles as the two of them slip out of the car, leaving Steve speechless and unable to formulate a sentence to defend himself. They’re waving wildly before making their way to the gym. 

“That was just cruel. At least give him a chance to redeem himself,” Robin is still giggling as they walk away, merging in with the stream of students. Everyone would be going to the same place in order to get their schedules for the year. 

Willow shrugs, readjusting the weight of her bag, “He has all day to think of a comeback, which I’m sure will be the first thing out of his mouth this afternoon. I’m not worried.” 

“Wanna start betting what his response will be?” Robin suggests and bumps shoulders with Willow. 

She’s about to laugh and agree, spewing out her best guess, when she sees him. For someone who hadn’t really existed to her before this summer, Eddie Munson was easily becoming a shadow that Willow Jenkins couldn’t escape. She hadn’t expected to catch sight of him this morning. She knew enough of his reputation to know he was chronically late to school, if he’d even show up. She expected to see him being his normal self, a shit-eating grin and theatrics that could be heard from miles away, but she’s shocked to see how subdued he is. He’s alone, posture slumped and eyes dreary as he’s staring down the paper in his hands. 

“ Ooh ,” Robin begins to tease once she catches sight of him, “Look who it is.” 

“You were right, you know,” Willow can’t stop herself before her words come tumbling out. 

Robin looks slightly confused, tilting her head, “Huh?”

“He’s perfect,” Willow pauses and almost leaves it at that, but at Robin’s sly grin, she adds on, “For that fake-dating shit. He gets under Steve’s skin. It would be perfect.” 

“Oh my God, ‘Low.” 

“What?”

Robin is genuinely shocked - she’s stopped dead in her tracks. “I thought we were just joking about that.” 

“I was! At first!” Willow defends, crossing her arms to avoid tossing them around to emphasize her point, “But I just, I noticed at Scoops, a-and… Well, Jesus Christ - Rob, every time I interact with Eddie in the slightest, Steve ends up throwing a fit. Every. Single. Time.  What if fake-dating Eddie Munson would throw Steve over the edge with any feelings he might have for me?” 

Robin doesn’t say a word, mouth agape. 

“Okay, fish face. Say something, please,” Willow begs. 

Robin immediately closes her mouth, shaking her head. “Oh my God. You’re both idiots. Absolute idiots.” 

Willow is taken off guard when Robin suddenly flings herself back into action, walking in the direction of the gym even faster. She’s purposefully avoiding the entrance Eddie is standing at. 

“Oh, for fucks sake, Robin. You were the one who hatched this idea to begin with!” Willow calls, falling a few steps behind her friend due to the traffic of the entire student body being in one building. 

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it!” she calls over shoulder. 

The two girls end up separated as they file into line to pick up their schedules. Once Willow is clutching the small piece of paper with her name typed plainly at the top of it, her schedule blocked out before her, she goes to the exit she had spotted Eddie at. She notices immediately he’s still there, leaning against a tree, still looking over his own schedule grimly. 

That bad? 

“Okay, alright. Who’s your homeroom teacher?” Robin scares Willow when she suddenly appears at her side, eagerly looking at her own schedule and reaching to grab Willow’s. 

Willow throws out her hand holding the paper, glaring at her friend. “No, nuh uh. First, we’re finishing our earlier conversation. 

“Hm,” Robin hums, and Willow realizes too late why she’s squinting in the direction of her hand. Enough of the paper is exposed for Robin to make out her homeroom teacher, “Damn, O’Donnell? Even I feel bad for you.”

Willow huffs and yanks her hand down to her side, carefully unwrinkling her scheduling and folding it neatly. “Fuck off. You’re avoiding my question.” 

“What question? The question of how insane I think you are on a scale of one to ten? Because I’d say a solid fifteen.” 

“ No , my question as to why you’ve suddenly changed your tone about your…idea,” with Eddie so close, Willow deliberately stays vague, “Especially when there’s a chance it’d work.” 

“Maybe I know something you don’t,” Robin’s voice cracks, flashing a shy smile. She tilts her head at Willow but it doesn’t change Willow’s mind. 

“And what would that be?” 

“Not my secret to share, or my guts to spill. Anyways, we have lunch together. I just couldn’t see your last three classes.” 

Willow’s intrigue immediately peaks. “Who’s guts is it to spill?” 

Robin shakes her head. “Nope. Not getting it out of me that easily.” 

Willow sighs, rolling her eyes and turning from Robin. Fine . She could keep her secrets to herself. Willow would survive. 

She begins walking, coincidentally her path leading her right past Eddie who’s now joined by a friend. She can only assume it’s a member of his D&D club. 

“Wait up!” Robin calls as she speed-walks to catch up with Willow’s unwavering pace. Willow isn’t focused on Robin trying to reclaim her space at her side, however. As she passes Eddie and his friend, she can overhear their conversation. 

“Fucking O’Donnell. For homeroom. I’m fucked Jeff,” Eddie’s voice is unmissable. 

“Who knows, maybe the third time’s the charm? Do you really think you’re going to fail again?” Jeff, or who Willow assumes is Jeff, replies. 

Willow doesn’t hear Eddie’s reply as she has already passed. She stops abruptly, though, and Robin crashes into her back. 

“Jesus, Willow! Why’d you sto-” 

“I have an idea,” is all Willow says as everything clicks in her mind. 

She doesn’t care what Robin says about the fake-dating idea. Because it all becomes painfully obvious to her. 

The only thing Eddie Munson must want as badly as Willow wants Steve is to graduate. And Willow Jenkins has a 4.0 GPA.

Willow has never failed a single assignment, has always completed extra credit assignments with ease, and has always been a teacher’s pet. She’s tutored more fellow students than she could count on one hand. 

She’s never turned on her heel faster than when she spins around, timing perfect as Jeff walks away from Eddie, leaving him lonesome as he leans on the tree again. 

“Willow, what are you doing?” Robin asks, popping up over her shoulder and following her line of sight to Eddie, “I’m telling you, that is a bad idea. Do not-” 

Willow doesn’t stick around to hear Robin’s lecture. Her heart is beating up into her throat as her feet carry her straight to Eddie. He’s looking down at first, toeing the grass at his feet, but once she gets closer, his head whips up to meet her determined gaze. His eyes rake over her, taking in her determined stance. 

“Hey there, Red,” he greets her once she gets close enough. 

She swallows hard before nodding, “Eddie.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he asks, doing slight jazz hands as he tilts his head to the right. 

Now or never, Jenkins. Do it. 

“I-I have a…proposition. A-A transaction, of sorts, to offer you,” Willow starts and immediately curses her stutter from her nerves. Eddie leans his head forward, drinking in her every word, “A deal. I’d like to make a deal.” 

She supposes her wording could have been better. 

She immediately knows she’s fucked up as she watches Eddie deflate, and feels Robin’s eyes burning into the back of her head. 

“Nope,” he immediately says, standing up straight and stiffening up completely, “Not happening.” 

“Wha-” Willow starts to question, startled considering there’s no way he could guess what she was about to offer him. 

“I don’t do deals like that. No respectable dealer would. So go and tell your little friend,” he pauses and nods his chin sharply in Robin’s direction, “that I’m not selling to you guys at a discount. Or offering any… exchanges.” 

“Eddie, what kind of deal-” Willow stops in the middle of her sentence. Oh. Oh my God. It hits her, the realization that Eddie is assuming she’s about to ask for drugs in exchange for something, a service on her part presumably. She’s shocked at how quickly Eddie’s mind went so perverted.

Or maybe that’s just how often the girls at school have tried to take advantage of him for some free weed. 

“Sorry, Red. See you around,” he huffs, starting to storm off when he suddenly stops. Willow is taken back to night outside of the Hideout as he calls over his shoulder, “Also, I’d love my jacket back. You know, if you ever get away from Harrington long enough to get the chance.” 

His words are laced with poisonous sarcasm that immediately lights a flame in Willow’s stomach, the fire reaching her chest. She doesn’t stop and think before responding, or even check for teachers before she’s screaming after him. 

“Oh, fuck you, Munson! Also, I wasn’t asking about drugs! ” 

He doesn’t respond, only flipping her the bird without even looking back at her.

Chapter Text

The embarrassment is still raw for Willow as she walks into her homeroom, Ms. O'Donnell's English class. 

She can’t tell which part of the interaction had stung the most: was it the part where Eddie thought so lowly of her that his mind had jumped to her wanting to scam him out of some free drugs? Or the part where he’d requested his jacket back? The part where he once more, reduced her down to nothing more than Steve Harrington’s friend? 

“Please take your seats everyone,” O’Donnell calls from her spot at the front of the classroom, sharp eyes watching as each student files in. 

Willow isn’t even shocked when her eyes find Eddie slumped in a desk in the farthest corner, legs stretched out and a bored expression gracing his face. At this point, she nearly laughs out loud bitterly. Of course the cause behind her bright crimson cheeks would share a homeroom with her. Because why not? 

She’s about to take a seat in the front of the classroom when O’Donnell clears her throat, eyes staring right at Willow. She’s only confused for a moment before O’Donnell taps the chalkboard and a freakishly neat seating chart is written out. She had just assumed based on Eddie sitting snugly in his corner that it was free seating. She had forgotten this part of O’Donnell’s reign, which Steve had indeed warned her of. 

“Seating chart, miss Jenkins.” 

“Right. Sorry.”

Willow’s eyes scan for her name, starting with the seats farthest from Eddie. She hopes for luck but comes up empty-handed. Her name is written in all capital letters on the square right above the square that was filled with Eddie Munson’s name. 

“By Munson?” she complains, not keeping her voice soft enough for O’Donnell to not hear her. 

“She hates back-talkers, snide comments, that kind of stuff. Don’t complain in front of her,” Steve had warned. Willow felt like an idiot at O’Donnell’s glare.

“Is there a problem, Miss Jenkins?” O’Donnell questions, quirking an eyebrow as she crosses her arms. Jesus, she really was the stereotypical evil teacher, wasn’t she?

“No ma’am,” Willow assures, voice sickly sweet as she’s well aware she needs to be on this teacher’s good side, “None at all.” 

Neither say another word as Willow turns and starts to make her way to her seat. Eddie’s too busy tracing the surface of his desk to notice her until she’s right in front of him, and has to softly clear her throat once she catches sight of his shoes propped up in her chair. 

Her voice is so quiet, she’s lucky Eddie pays her any attention at all. “That’s my seat.” 

Eddie is wordless, stare hard and cool as he slowly removes his sneakers off the chair. 

“Thanks,” Willow mutters, dropping herself into the seat immediately. She considers the fact that maybe, just maybe, sitting in front of Eddie is a good thing. She won’t have to see him at all during class. Technically, if he is the truant everyone claims he is, she won’t have to see him before class either. 

Ms. O’Donnell starts up class once the bell rings right on time, wasting no time as she brings up the summer reading they were assigned. Each student had to choose a novel of their choice at the end of the last school year to read and annotate over the summer. Obviously, their choices had to be approved before the last day of school, but other than that, it had been a simple assignment (in Willow’s opinion). 

“Now, I am giving you all the benefit of the doubt that you did, in fact, complete this reading, as it will be crucial to our first project,” the stuffy classroom was filled with stifled groans at the prospect of already being assigned homework. “No complaints, please. I choose to skip any ice-breakers the first day due to this very assignment.”

Willow is intrigued, she can’t lie. Steve hadn’t mentioned what the first project would be.

Ms. O’Donnell turns and grabs a piece of chalk before continuing her speech. “For your first assignment of this semester, you will be paired off and will be exchanging the novels you chose to annotate for the summer.” 

Everyone stays dead silent, bated breaths as they await for O’Donnell to continue. 

Everyone except Eddie Munson.

Willow can hear his chuckle from behind her, soft and low, reminding her that this wasn’t his first time taking O’Donnell’s class. It was his third. 

O’Donnell is quiet now as she suddenly begins drawing neat circles around students’ names. The seating chart, and therefore classroom, is set up with five vertical rows, six students per row. She starts with all the front students seated up front, and Willow is quick to pick up on the pattern as she circles for Connor Williams and Astrid McKinney to work together, Connor turning in his seat to face Astrid. 

No. 

She continues onto now placing circles around the third and fourth students of each row. 

Fuck me. 

Willow is slumped in defeat as she watches a perfect circle encompassing her own name as well as Eddie’s. 

“These will be our pairs. I’m going to give you this class period to get to know each other, and begin to plan out exchanges. I’m also going to come around and hand out the instruction sheet to go with this project. Please, be mindful and use inside voices.” 

People launch into action then, swiveling in their seats as an immediate buzzing of murmurs start up. Introductions and friendly greetings passed around. Willow, however, stays frozen. Her copy of Little Women is burning a hole in her backpack at her feet, and she can already envision her smeared writing cramped into the margins, several pages passionately dog-eared and harsh lines swiped beneath her favorite passages for emphasis. Hell, she’s sure there’s still a stain on one of the middle pages from when she dropped a half-eaten strawberry onto it, leaving the off-white of the page to turn pink and sticky. All of the love, the enjoyment, the vulnerability she packed into a novel she now considered one of her favorites, only to be damned to be in the hands of Eddie Munson. 

“Uh, hey,” she feels a sudden tapping at her shoulder, making her jump. She takes a deep breath before turning to face a grinning Eddie. He’s clearly not smiling out of joy for the assignment, but seems to be thriving off the predicament they’re now in, “Looks like we’re partners.”

“Oh, joy,” Willow sarcastically remarks, her body now fully turned to face him. 

“Well, don’t hold your applause, Red. I can just see you bouncing out of your seat to work with me.” 

“Right, because that’s what everyone hopes and dreams of: having to work with you after you’ve failed this class twice,” Willow immediately wishes she had swallowed that insult back down, feeling a bit cruel despite how he treated her outside. 

The world seeming stops as Willow awaits Eddie’s reaction at her cruel statement. But instead of taking it to heart, Eddie sucks in a tight breath, faking pain jokingly as he grasps at his chest, “You wound me.” 

“You’ll survive,” Willow fights a smile, realizing Eddie wasn’t offended, but still trying to tread carefully given their earlier interaction.

“Yeah? I don’t know. Doc says it was a superficial wound but…feels pretty deep to me.” 

“Oh yeah?”

“Yup, I think you might’ve nicked a bone,” Eddie leans forward onto his desk, sparkling brown eyes gazing into Willow’s, “We might need a second opinion to be sure, though.” 

They both chuckle before the moment passes, and suddenly, Willow can feel the weight of that embarrassment back on her shoulders. The image of Eddie not looking back at her, flipping her off. Eddie clearly sees her drop in mood as she mulls over their fight this morning.

Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe she couldn’t really blame Eddie for jumping to that conclusion. Maybe, just maybe, it’s the Universe giving her a sign to let go of the fake-dating antics. 

Willow hadn’t realized how quiet she had gone as she processed through first her anger, now her guilt, until Eddie suddenly asks her, “Penny for your thoughts?” 

He’s clearly anxious, playing with the rings on his fingers as he’s watching her softly. 

“You couldn’t afford my thoughts, Munson. They’re gonna cost you more than just one cent,” she decides to tease him, thinking she preferred the energy between them more when they were joking than whatever it was when they were fighting (if Willow could even call it that). 

“How much? I think I’ve got a twenty in my locker, but for that much, you’ll have to add in some extra sweet-” Eddie is cut off from whatever dirty joke he was surely making by Ms. O’Donnell walking up to them, looking very unimpressed. 

“Miss Jenkins,” she first nods to Willow, “Mister Munson,” when she says Eddie’s name, it’s with a stern glare. It didn’t take a genius to know that he had probably pissed her off in previous years.

“Deborah,” Eddie greets with a dopey smile, already pushing her buttons. Willow is wide-eyed, anxiety creeping up at the interaction. 

How the hell will I get O’Donnell to like me enough to take pity on me with him , the probable bane of her existence, as my partner? 

“Not this year, Mister Munson. I’ve already told you you’re not to refer to me by my first name,” O’Donnell scolds, pulling two pieces of paper from her arms. She holds them out to Willow. 

Willow takes them quickly, nodding and muttering out a quick ‘thank you’ as Eddie continues to grinds her gears. “C’mon now, do I really need that paper? Think I’ve got this assignment memorized by now.” 

“Good. Then hopefully, you’ll actually complete it this time,” at this, Willow immediately looks at Eddie in panic, already sensing the impending doom for her grade. He smiles sheepishly, all the false confidence and charisma he played up for O’Donnell gone as he channels what feels like genuine guilt her way, “This year, I’ve paired you strategically, you see. Miss Jenkins here has an impeccable GPA, and nothing but glowing reviews from her previous teachers,” O’Donnell pauses, glancing at Willow, “I’m hoping she might manage to break through in a way I clearly haven’t yet. Maybe teach you some work ethic.” 

“Or maybe I’ll rub off on her. I bet I’ll have Jenkins here wearing all leather and blasting Iron Maiden by the end of the semester,” Eddie winks at Willow at the end of his tease, reaching to grab one of the papers that Willow had been holding in a viper’s grip. 

“I’ll keep him in line, don’t worry, miss O’Donnell,” Willow interrupts and shocks them both, smiling painfully as she wishes the teacher would leave them alone so Eddie would stop digging his own grave. 

O’Donnell is shockingly pleased with the response, nodding and muttering ‘I’m sure you will’ before moving on to the other students. 

“What was that?” Willow whispers, slightly irritated at Eddie as she places the instruction sheet on her desk, “Are you trying to get her to hold you back a third time before the assignments have even begun?” 

“Nah, I’m trying to get her to hate me so much she pity-passes me. Except not out of pity for me, pity for herself. I’ve never seen a teacher nearly have an aneurysm at just the sight of me like she does,” Eddie laughs and leans back into his seat, holding the instruction sheet out in front of him with both hands, “It’s fine, though, since you’re going to keep me in line. Right, Red?” his eyes flicker up to hers over the page, one eyebrow quirked and hidden within his bangs. 

Willow can’t help but remember the offer she was going to make for Eddie. That if he fake-dated her, burrowing himself under Steve Harrington’s skin every chance he got, that she would guarantee he graduated by any means possible. She knew that probably would have included soiling her moral code and offering to be his partner-in-crime when it came to cheating, but it seemed worth it at the time. Honestly, it still seemed worth it, even with the rejection from this morning. 

Let it go. Stop thinking about it. He’d never agree. 

“I’m not a magician, I can’t magically snap my fingers and make a diploma appear in your hands.” 

“Oh? Well, what about a wizard?” Eddie puts down the instruction sheet, and suddenly folds his hands and props his chin up with them. 

“What?”

“You’re not a magician, but are you a wizard? A wizard could probably do some magic and make me graduate with no effort.” 

Willow scrunches her nose, “No. I’m not a wizard.” 

“Sorceress?” 

“No.” 

“Bard?”

“What the hell is that?” 

“A cleric, perhaps?” 

“Eddie, you’re losing me.” 

“You ever heard of a little fantasy game called Dungeons and Dragons?” Eddie questions, eyes tracing her face for any reaction. Bad, good, anything. Willow could tell her was on edge asking her this despite trying to still seem nonchalant and teasing. 

“Oh,” she realizes whatever things he had been naming off must have been referencing the game he had a club for, “I’ve heard of it, yeah. Mainly when people talk about your little club for it.” 

Eddie visibly perks up. “Yeah! Hellfire. We meet on Fridays.” 

“Great, I do my homework on Fridays, like you know, most normal people,” Willow replies. She tells herself they need to get back on topic, discuss the project and exchange books like many around them have. But she’s actually enjoying getting to know Eddie, even if they’re only scratching the surface of each other at the moment. 

“Normal people do not do their homework on Friday,” Eddie scoffs, “Even as the school freak, loser, whatever you want to call me… I know that .”

“Normal people with 4.0 GPAs who plan to graduate top of their class do,” Willow doesn’t mean to come off as snooty as she does, but her chest still puffs up in pride. She worked her ass off the last three years, she’s pretty sure she’s earned some bragging rights. 

“No shit?” Eddie seems genuinely excited for her for a moment, before falling back to his teasing demeanor, “What a nerd.” 

“Nerd? You’re the one who plays D&D,” Willow fights back. She hadn’t even noticed the way she leaned in closer to Eddie until she found it more comfortable to lean an elbow onto his desk and prop up her own head. 

“Nerds come in all shapes and sizes, Red.” 

The conversation naturally drops off, both staring off into space. Willow knows it’s perfect timing to bring up the project, to finally discuss it before the bell rings, but when she opens her mouth to say something about it, completely different words than intended spill out. 

“I’m sorry about this morning.” 

Eddie looks as shocked as Willow is. “Oh, you mean that nine thousand pound elephant in the room?” 

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I just… I got a bit defensive. I was sort of a bitch. I’m sorry,” she continues her apology but is unable to meet Eddie’s eyes. Instead she drops her hand that was propping her head up on the desk down to the edges of his instruction sheet, gently fiddling with it. 

She only looks open when Eddie’s hand smooths out over the paper, stopping her fiddling. “It’s fine. I was a dick. At least you can handle taking the shit you give. I was curious, though…” 

Willow glances up as he trails off, searching his eyes as she mumbles, “Yeah?” 

“If you weren’t asking about, you know,” he pauses, eyes looking around the classroom before dropping his voice, “ drugs, then what were you wanting?” 

Willow isn’t sure how to respond. All her determination and confidence from the morning is gone, long buried somewhere by that stupid tree he rejected her at. “Oh, it was nothing. Don’t worry about it, Munson. Honestly? Just forget about it.” 

She curses at her word vomit. 

“Doesn’t sound like nothing?” he says as his eyes squint at her, leaning in closer. She can smell his cologne, ever so faintly, the same scent clinging to the leather jacket in her closet. 

“It is. I swear.” 

Eddie suddenly leans all the way back and crosses his arms over his chest, eyes scanning Willow in a way that fries her nerves. She hopes her cheeks aren’t scorched as well, giving away just how nervous his gaze makes her. Really, she isn’t even sure why his gaze makes her nervous, just that it does . Terribly so. 

“You’re lying to me,” he suddenly tuts. 

“What? No, I’m not.” 

“You are. And you’re terrible at it, by the way.” 

“Am not!” Willow defends herself, possibly a bit too loudly as several classmates and Ms. O’Donnell herself stare at her. She’s immediately humiliated. 

Eddie only waits a moment, once the lingering stares have turned back to mind their business, before grinning and whispering, “Yes, you are, Red. Terrible, really.” 

“I have a name, you know,” she changes the subject. Every time he calls her Red, her heart speeds up for a few beats. It’s annoying. 

“Yeah, I do know. And now you have a nickname,” Eddie sits up dramatically, waving his hands in a rainbow shape for effect as he says, “ Red .” 

“You’re the only one who calls me that,” Willow sighs, reaching a hand up subconsciously to twirl a piece of her scarlet hair. It had managed to grow on her just enough to stop any panic attacks regarding it this morning. 

“Good. Let’s keep it that way.” 

Willow is ready to shoot back a snarky comment, keeping up the easy flow her and Eddie had settled into this entire period, when the bell interrupts her. 

How the hell is class already over? 

Willow realizes with a sinking stomach that they didn’t mention the project once. “We didn’t talk about our books.”

“I don’t have mine on me anyways,” Eddie shrugs as he shoves the instruction sheet messily into his backpack. It appeared to be the same brand as Willow’s bag, but in black. She doesn’t miss the sight of the small, metal lunch box he grabs up from beside it. 

“Oh,” Willow sighs. So maybe not talking about the project worked out, maybe Eddie had been avoiding the topic to avoid embarrassment of admitting he didn’t have his book, “Well…Don’t forget it tomorrow, okay?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Eddie jokingly solutes Willow as he slings his backpack over his shoulder. She’s barely fitted the instruction sheet neatly into her binder and is returning it to her bag, standing up simultaneously with him. 

Willow’s curiosity burns at her as she catches sight of Little Women in her bag. “Hey, what book did you choose to annotate?” 

Eddie is looking down at her due to their height difference, wearing what she’s now believing is his signature grin, as he says, “Guess you’ll just have to find out tomorrow.” 

“What? Why? That’s such a stupid thing to keep secret,” Willow chastises, knowing she was being a hypocrite. 

“Hm,” Eddie hums, walking backwards down the aisle and keeping his eyes on her, “Look who’s talking, Red .” 

Chapter Text

In the two hours since she’s last seen Eddie, Willow has survived Spanish and most of her Chemistry class. It’s all been a blur of ice-breakers, really, keeping Willow entertained but not forcing her to do any critical thinking.

It’s nice.

Or at least, it was nice. Mr. Edwards, Willow’s chemistry teacher, was droning on about some story from his summer vacation to pass the final ten minutes of class when suddenly, the door to the classroom bursts open. 

“Eddie Munson,” Mr. Edwards’ face twitches, on the verge of cringing at the sight of Eddie, “How nice of you to join us.” 

“The honor’s all mine,” Eddie unabashedly replies, closing the door behind him. His eyes rake over the room, and when his eyes find Willow immediately, a mischievous smile takes over his face. She catches the falter in it when his eyes find the seats beside her already taken.

“Please, take a seat.”

The seating arrangement in this class was different from O’Donnell’s classroom. Instead of individual seats, students were automatically paired as they sat at long black tables large enough for two students to sit. Willow was currently sitting at the table in the center of the front row with Chrissy Cunningham sitting to her left. The only free seat wasn’t in any of the corners like Willow assumes Eddie would prefer, but one row back from her and off to her right. It was beside a quiet kid that Willow had never spoken to before. The open seat was the left one, the one closest to Willow, the one that would place Eddie Munson directly diagonal from her. 

Eddie takes his time walking to the seat, gaze never leaving Willow as he brushes past her. She almost considers sticking a foot out and tripping him in retaliation for the embarrassment he’s indirectly causing her; his attention on her has whispers piping up behind her, and she thinks she can hear her name being mentioned. 

The students of Hawkins High were not subtle. 

“Why’d he look at you like that?” Chrissy leans over to whisper, no malicious intent in her voice. When Willow meets her wide eyes, all she sees is genuine curiosity.

Willow shrugs. “No clue.” 

“Have you ever talked to him before?” Chrissy means no harm still, but Willow wishes she would drop it. 

“Once or twice, yeah,” Willow stares straight ahead as she replies, and Chrissy is kind enough to pick up on the message she’s sending. The whispers don’t stop from behind them, but Willow can tune those out. 

She can’t tune out the wad of paper that flies over her right shoulder once Mr. Edwards launches back into his story. 

She stares at it for a moment, confused. But then she glances behind her in the general direction she’d assumed that the paper came from, and finds Eddie Munson gleaming at her with an open notebook in front of him, the top corner clearly torn out. Her curious look quickly hardens into a glare, mouth agape as she looks back to the paper ball. She still doesn’t touch it. When she looks back at Eddie, trying to stay subtle considering she was in the front row, he’s resting his chin on his right hand, knuckles covering his mouth as he waves his left hand to encourage her to open what clearly must be a note. 

She pulls the ball closer, hoping Chrissy doesn’t notice as she smooths it out. 

Tell me what the deal was.

Eddie’s handwriting is boyish, messy and almost illegible as Willow squints to read over it several times to decipher it. When she glances back at him, his eyes are wide and eager. 

She simply shakes her head. 

No, she wasn’t telling Eddie. Sometime during last period, it occurred to her that this might be a secret she’d take to the grave. Of course, Robin knew, but she could trust Robin. She could handle any teasing that Robin did because at the end of the day, the power dynamic between her and Robin in that ridiculous situation was equal. Robin had suggested the stupid idea, so any time Willow caught shit from her for it, she could easily remind her of that. 

But Eddie? If Eddie found out, the teasing that follows could be detrimental for Willow. 

She knows he’s not the bullying type, clearly , but she also can tell through their short conversations thus far that he’d never let her live it down. It would plague any resemblance of a friendship they might have a chance at. 

It occurred to Willow that this also meant she wanted to be friends with Eddie Munson. A tough pill to swallow. But he had been kind to her, and with the excuse of O’Donnell’s project, it gave her a chance to get closer to him. It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world for her to have a friend beyond Steve and Robin. 

Willow is trying to focus back on the class discussion when another note lands in front of her. This one flies a bit farther, and lands more in Chrissy’s sight. 

“What’s that?” she inquires, and is reaching out for her but Willow’s hands are too fast. Within a second, Willow has the new note secure in her fist and tucked against her body. 

“Nothing,” she doesn’t even try to come up with a lie. Chrissy doesn’t know the note came from Eddie. It’s fine.

Besides, according to Eddie, I’m a shit liar. 

Willow has to be more careful this time as she unfolds Eddie’s note, keeping the paper close to her chest as she struggles to read it. 

Seriously? 

Willow doesn’t even know how to respond. Carefully, she leans down and grabs a pencil from her backpack on the ground. 

She takes a moment to consider her response, before flattening the paper on the desk before her and scribbling, fuck off . 

She quickly scrunches the paper back into a ball similarly to the way Eddie had, pressing her chin to her right shoulder as she looks at him. He’s already staring at her, knuckles still pressed to his lips, clearly not planning on giving Mr. Edwards the time of day. She takes the paper ball in her write hand, slowly moving it to behind her seat, and barely opening up her fist to show Eddie the paper. His eyebrows shoot up into his bangs briefly, the corners of his lips clearly curling up behind his knuckles. He puts out his free hand, palm up, and nods in encouragement. 

She doesn’t even notice she’s holding her breath until she tosses it, and watches it land perfectly in Eddie’s hand. Her shoulders go slack in relief. She faces forward again, just in time to catch the trail end of Mr. Edwards' rant. 

“-which is why I’ve decided this year, no seating chart! Hopefully you folks don’t take advantage of that.” 

Mr. Edwards carries the tone of a teacher trying to be cool, taking the kind and relatable approach over the strict dictatorship like Ms. O’Donnell supposedly runs. 

Cheers erupt from a few students, mostly jocks and populars. 

“So, with that in mind, we only have about… two minutes left. I don’t think I need to bore you any further, so do with that time what you will,” Mr. Edwards says as he takes a few steps back and returns to his desk. Plenty of students get up and walk around the room, including Chrissy Cunningham, in order to cluster into groups with their friends. 

Willow jumps when Eddie suddenly slams into the seat that was once Chrissy’s. “ Fuck off ? Seriously? That’s the best you could come up with? You went through all that trouble to give me back this piece of paper just to tell me to fuck off ?” 

“What did you expect? Besides, I didn’t go through that much trouble. I just threw it at you, Munson.” 

“You looked like you were about to pass out when you threw it at me. Scared to get caught passing notes with the school freak?” Eddie tilts his head, situating himself to be fully facing Willow as his arm rests over the back of the chair. 

“Getting caught? Yes. Terrified. It’s rude to pass notes in class. But it could have been anyone and I’d be freaked out,” she doesn’t know why she feels the need to reassure him she’s not ashamed to be interacting, but she does, “Besides, I think is everyone is occupied enough talking about the way you made eyes at me during your dramatic entrance.” 

“I did not make eyes at you.” 

“Okay, the way you stared at me then. Is that better?” Willow teases, turning her body to mirror Eddie’s and bumping knees with him. 

Neither of them bother to move so they aren’t touching. 

“Much,” Eddie nods, satisfied with her change of vocabulary, “I was just shocked to see you and that bright ass hair, front row and shit.”

Willow plays with her once again, as she does any time Eddie references it. “It’s not that bright anymore.” 

“Right, and I didn’t make eyes at you when I walked in,” Eddie drawls, leaning back. For a moment, his knees separate from Willow’s and she immediately notices the chill on her legs as his warmth retreats, “Anyways, Red, back to the important topic at hand.” 

“There’s something more important than my hair?” she teases. It’s effortless. The joking dynamic between her and Eddie came to her easier than breathing. The last time someone had taken to her so well in this way was Robin, even Steve having struggled to manage banter with her when they first met at the beginning of the summer. 

“Absolutely. What did you want this morning?” 

His question makes her deflate immediately. She’s sinking into her seat, smile fading. “I already told you, it doesn’t matter.” 

“Secrets don’t make friends, Red.” 

There it is again. The nickname that shoots straight to her heart, no longer racing but simply skipping a beat over it. “Fine, tell me what your summer reading book was-”

“Fellowship of the Ring,” Eddie doesn’t hesitate, interrupting her before she could finish. Willow clearly wasn’t expecting a fast response, stunned into silence now. “Alright, I told you mine, now you tell me yours.” 

“No,” Willow persists, eyebrows furrowed, “I’m not telling you, Eddie.” 

“Why not?” he whines, slumping his shoulders and leaning himself in closer to her. 

“I…I just…I don’t want to tell you, okay? Especially not in the middle of a classroom. It’s just embarrassing , and something I know I could never live down. It was bad enough that I somehow thought that I should originally ask you outside the gym this morning, given how busy it was, but here? In a classroom? No, I’m sorry. Not happening,” Willow stresses, and she notices that during her small speech, Eddie’s eyes don’t leave hers once. 

He takes his time answering her, painstakingly so. She watches the way he’s carefully considering his response, contrasting the whiny attitude he had adopted previously. He was now dead serious. He had taken her concern with embarrassment to heart. 

“What if… and just throwing this out there, you met me somewhere after school, privately, to ask?” 

She’s stunned by his offer. “What?” 

“There’s this place out in the woods, out by the football field. It’s where I normally meet people to do deals. There’s a clearing with this bench, it’s nice and secluded…” he trails off, eyes no longer meeting hers, rubbing his chin in thought, “I know it probably sounds like I’m going to murder you so, as I’m saying this outloud, I realize it’s completely fine if you tell me to piss off now.” 

Willow can’t help but laugh, “Oh, so now that you’re plotting my murder, I can tell you to fuck off?” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

“I…” Willow trails off, trying to rack her brain for a reason to decline his offer. In all fairness, he had just made it clear to her that she didn’t need a proper reason now. And she almost declines, politely, telling him that they’ll just see each other tomorrow in English and that it’ll be fine. But then she remembers the clench of Steve Harrington’s jaw when he thought she was making eyes at Eddie, the way he’d been so pissed off at her at the bar when she came back in with the jacket. Not only does Steve’s reactions begin to flash in the back of her mind, but something that Robin had originally said to her when she brought up the idea. 

“There’s really no other guy in town you’d love to play make-believe with until you get Harrington’s attention?” 

At the time, Willow had scoffed and been offended. Because no, there was no other guy in her line of sights beside Steve Harrington. 

Until now. 

Suddenly, in front of her, there was a long-haired metalhead who could probably banter with her in his sleep. And he had been dropped into her lap with the best possible circumstances for this scenario: Steve was convinced she was already into him, she had classes that forced her to see him daily (if he showed up to school), and most importantly, he seemed keen on being as friendly with her as she had been with him. Even if he had gotten under her skin too many times to count in their short time of acknowledging each other’s existence, Willow enjoyed Eddie's presence more than she did most people's. Willow wanted to be Eddie's friend. Fuck. 

“Okay.” 

She’s said it, it’s out in the world. She doesn’t give herself a chance to overthink it. 

“Okay? As in, okay, you’re not going to risk me murdering you? Or okay, you’re down to meet me there after school?” Eddie asks, eyes wide and mouth slightly open in shock. The bell rings, signifying the end of chemistry class. 

Willow grabs her pencil she’d used to write back her note to Eddie as her other hand leaned down to grab her actual backpack. She’s up and out of her chair before she responds to a still-seated Eddie, “Okay, I’ll meet you after school.” 

She doesn’t wait for him as she makes a beeline towards the door, starting towards the cafeteria to meet Robin. Though, she’s only made it a few strides before Eddie Munson is nipping at her heels. 

“Hey! Hold on!” 

She slows herself down, but refuses to come to a complete stop as she’s aware everyone in the hallway is currently staring at her. They were probably staring in class, too, once Eddie had taken the seat beside her, but she had been too occupied with the man of the hour to take notice. 

Eddie is slightly out of breath by the time his stride matches hers. “What if you get lost in the woods? We should probably meet up at the edge of the football field, yeah?” 

“If that’s what you want,” Willow replies casually, not even turning to look at him. Her heart was still thrumming from her leap of courage she had just taken in agreeing to meet with Eddie, period. 

“No, no, no. This is all about you, Red. Is that what you want? Are you even sure you want to meet?” Eddie grabs her shoulders as he questions her, swerving her off to the side of the busy hallway. His touch is gentle and he immediately towers over her, face splayed with concern. 

“Munson, I’m positive. Just… promise you’re not gonna make a laughing stock out of me once you finally find out my stupid secret, okay?” she’s finally making eye contact, admitting her fear to him in the most joking way possible. She can’t imagine who Eddie would run to tell if he did reject her, even after bugging her this much to know what proposition she had for him, but it still made her heart clench to think about it. 

“Scout’s honor,” he breathes out, holding one hand over his heart and the other up, palm facing her. 

“Good,” Willow smiles, soft as she tilts her head up to get a better view of those big, brown eyes, “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a lunch date with Buckley. See you after school, boy scout.” 

Willow squeezes herself out of Eddie’s caging, not giving a second glance as she continues on her way.

She can feel his eyes on her fleeing figure the entire way down the hall, and once more when she sits down at the lunch table beside Robin. She doesn’t have to look to know that he keeps glancing at her from his spot at the head of the lunch table where his ‘Hellfire Club’ sits together, just a few tables behind where she’s seated with the band kids. 

His gaze isn’t the only thing new that lunch period. The silence, the lack of his booming voice entertaining his friends as he eggs on bullies and puts on theatrics, is new too. 

“Hey there, stranger!” Robin exclaims the moment Willow is sitting beside her, “You’re never going to guess who I have in my math class.” 

“Vickie?” Willow questions with a knowing smile, leaning and bumping shoulders with her friends. 

Robin blushes immediately, going bright red as she looks around for her. 

“Where?”

“No, Rob, I didn’t see her. I was guessing she was in your math class.” 

“Oh, well, sort of. I do have a few classes with her! Besides the band, obviously,” Robin rambles, pushing around a fry from her tray into ketchup, “But no, someone much more exciting was in my math class.” 

“What hour do you even have math?” Willow asks, picking up one of her own fries.

She can still feel Eddie staring at her. 

“Second, what about you?” Robin pauses for a sip of juice, barely swallowing before continuing, “And are you seriously not curious?”

“Mine is next hour,” Willow doesn’t answer Robin’s second question. She’s too focused on not turning her head to face Eddie, to just catch a glimpse of him and confirm her foolish belief that his eyes are already on her. 

“Eddie Munson.” 

Willow’s heart stops, starting to look around the moment Robin says his name. She twists herself all the way around without thinking. 

“Willow?” Robin’s voice sounds far away the moment Willow catches Eddie. Just as she was suspecting, he was staring. The moment they meet each other’s gazes, they mirror in blushes before both harshly looking away. 

“Willow?” Robin repeats, “Earth to Willow?” 

“Huh? Sorry, just, you said…y-you said Eddie so I-” Willow is a stuttering mess, the realization of what she just did settling in. The corners of Robin’s mouth are twitching already. “Fuck off. Did you just say his name to get a rise out of me? Because of this morning?” 

“No, actually. He’s in my math class.”

“Eddie. Eddie Munson. He’s in your math class?” 

“Yep! He left class early, claiming he was going to the nurse. He seemed like he was thinking about something pretty hard.” 

“Well that’s dangerous.”

“What?”

“Eddie Munson thinking,” Willow murmurs, shamelessly twisting once more to get a good look at him. This time, he’s occupied with his group. Palms flat against the cafeteria table as he leans in close, eyes wild and grin wide. 

Robin is snickering, turning and watching Eddie with her. “Yeah? I think it might be more dangerous that you’re thinking.” 

“He asked to meet me after school,” Willow blurts out. 

“What?”

“Yeah,  we have homeroom and chemistry together.”

“Why does he want to meet after school?” 

“To talk about the deal,” Willow explains, “Apparently, the fact that it isn’t about drugs intrigues him.”

Robin nods, looking between Willow and Eddie, “You told him, no, right? Because we have that interview at Family Video after school.” 

Willow had honestly forgotten about the interview. Her mind had been so wrapped up in the mess that was Eddie Munson all morning that she’d forgotten her potential job she’d be working with Robin and Steve. 

“No, yeah, I mean,” Willow hates that Eddie pointed out what a terrible liar she was, the ridicule plaguing her mind every time she lied now, “Obviously I said no. Like we said, fake-dating is ridiculous. Never going to happen.” 

Robin doesn’t look convinced. 

“ Okay ,” she sing-songs out, “So, was O’Donnell really the bitch Steve painted her out to be?” 

And with that, the rest of lunch fell into easy conversation between the two best friends, Eddie Munson seemingly forgotten.

Seemingly.

Chapter Text

Willow needed to get better at lying. 

She had always known she wasn’t good at hiding things from her friends. Being self-aware was more of her forte; keeping secrets was not. So when she realized Robin was in her last class of the day, gym, and that she’d have to come up with an excuse as to why she wouldn’t be immediately following her to Steve’s car, she started sweating (to say the least). Instead of joining Robin in easy banter, or adding anything to her attempted conversation of just how short Mr. Johnson’s shorts were, Willow spent the hour racking her brain for a reason to escape from Robin long enough to meet Eddie after school. 

It didn’t help that Robin was already aware of Eddie’s invite. Willow knew the first place her mind would go if she said she would catch up with her and Steve is Eddie. 

Is this what being in a fake relationship will have to be like? Constantly lying? 

When the final bell rings for the school day, Willow has decided on what her pathetic excuse will be - she left her favorite pen in her math class. It was simple enough, and should buy her just enough time with Eddie. 

“We ready to go kick ass and take names at this interview? I can’t wait to finally, actually work with you rather than you just hanging around and distracting me from my job!” Robin is ecstatic as she trails beside Willow, who shoves the gym’s double doors open for them. 

“Bold of you to assume that won’t be what I’m doing still, just getting paid this time,” Willow laughs, adjusting her backpack strap on her shoulder. She was nervous. So much so, she felt she could pass out at any given moment. 

“Yeah, but at least that means you’ll finally have money. No more bumming off of me and Steve,” Robin wiggles her brows, shimmying her shoulders slightly. They’re coming up on the corner of the building. They need to turn to the left in order to head towards the parking lot, and the football field is to the right. 

Willow’s palms start sweating. “You know I’m always going to bum off of you, paycheck or no paycheck.” 

She means for more excitement, more of a teasing tone, but her voice falls slightly flat and falters. It’s now or never. 

“Hey, I just realized-” Willow is stopped dead in tracks when she collides with a hard shoulder. “ Fuck !” 

She waits to fall backwards and connect with the warm sidewalk beneath them, but the fall never comes. Instead, large and warm hands grasp at her waist. She feels a brush of cold, almost as if they’re wearing rings. 

“Woah there, Red!” 

It’s him. It’s Eddie fucking Munson. Just her luck, the very person she was lying to her best friend to currently in order to go meet. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I should have been watching where I was going,” Willow panics, heart now hurting from how quickly it was racing. Her nerves had already been shot from the anxiety of lying to Robin, but Eddie being in front of her now was sending her spiraling. 

“‘S all good,” Eddie reassures, grinning kindly, “You alright?” 

“Perfect. Actually, peachy!” Willow is a little too loud in her response, turning to see a shocked Robin before turning her attention back to Eddie, “Are you okay?” 

“Fine, fine, yeah,” Eddie’s hands are still on her waist. Jesus Christ, his hands are still on her waist and her chest feels like a soda can that’s been shaken, ready to explode. 

Robin clears her throat. It’s almost as if Eddie hadn’t even realized she was there until she says, “Fancy seeing you here, Munson.” 

“Touche, Buckley,” he turns on his charm with ease, hands recoiling from Willow finally. But the linger in his touch had already done its damage, the burning imprint of his hands still on her hips. She can still feel it even as she takes a step back to put distance between them. Eddie takes a moment to look between the two girls, and Willow swears she sees a questioning glance directed at her. She waits for him to blow her cover, to ask about them meeting, to out her to Robin. It’s inevitable. It’s bound to happen and Robin is bound to get pissed at her for lyin- “I should probably get going. See you guys around.” 

He barely spares them a single, shy wave before he’s taking off towards the football field. Willow’s eyes follow him all the way, until he’s halfway across the green stretch. 

“Cut the heart-eyes, Jenkins. Are you sure you still have the hots for Steve?” Robin teases, but there’s something beneath her joke that sounds unsure, worried even. 

Willow shakes her head, threatening to cause the bun she’d tossed her hair up into during class to unravel. “Positive. I don’t like Munson that way.”

“ Right .” 

“Seriously, Robin.” 

“Uh huh, I believe you.” 

Willow finally groans, throwing her head back as Robin’s grin tells her the exact opposite. Her best friend has obviously started her own narrative in her mind between Willow and Eddie, and is now going to run wild with it. 

“Anyways,” Willow decides to change the subject, “as I was saying before that rude interruption… I forgot my favorite pen back in Burley’s.” 

“And you just now realized it?” 

“Well, yeah. I’ve been kind of busy, you know, in gym class with this girl who wouldn’t stop giggling like a third grader about her teacher showing some leg-” 

“Okay, okay,” Robin interrupts, “I get it. Do you want me to wait here while you go grab it?” 

“No,” Willow replies too quickly. Robin eyes widen, mouth open to probably interrogate Willow’s quickness when she decides to continue in the hopes of saving her own ass, “I’ll be fine. Don’t keep Steve waiting. Honestly, if you want, I could probably walk to Family Video. It’s only a few blocks away. I don’t want to make all of us late. Some of us have to have a job to keep the group afloat, right?” 

Robin’s face smooths out at that, lip caught between her teeth as she considers Willow’s proposition. “Okay, but we aren’t leaving you right away. We’ll wait. I mean, you just have to grab a pen, right?” 

“Right,” Willow nods eagerly, shocked that her lie was working. 

“Okay, cool. Well go grab your stupid pen, and if you take more than ten minutes, then we’ll leave without you,” Robin is confident in this decision, standing straighter and looking into Willow’s eyes with serious conviction. 

Willow just throws a thumbs up, starting to back away from Robin, “Got it, mom!” 

“Go! Go, go, go!” Robin encourages as Willow finally turns her back on her, breaking out into a dramatic speed walk. “And none of that speed walking shit! Run!” 

Willow only has to sprint for a few moments before she turns a corner into a school doorway, and glances around to see Robin retreat in the direction of the parking lot. 

Perfect.

She doesn’t waste any time, pushing off of the school’s brick wall before breaking into a genuine run as she makes her way to the football field.  She swears she can see a small figure on the other side, just at the edge of the woods, right as her thighs start to burn with fatigue. 

By the time Willow has made it close enough to confirm that the figure is in fact Eddie, she can also see his teasing grin awaiting her. 

“Just can’t wait to be alone with me, can you, Red?” he jokes as she reaches his side, completely out of breath. 

“Fuck off,” she pants, “Don’t get so cocky. I just don’t have a lot of time.” 

He raises his eyebrows, and she expects another snarky or flirty remark. Instead, he surprises her - he simply lifts an arm and motions for her to begin walking. “After you, m’lady.” 

She just nods, looking down to watch her step. There’s not an actual path, more-so one made by the shoe prints of all the students who have come down to this space. Willow had heard the rumors of this clearing; it was the make-out spot before Steve made Skull Rock a thing. 

As they pass through the trees and brush, Willow finds herself oddly calm now that she’s alone with Eddie. She should be internally freaking out over what she was about to do, the leap of faith she was about to take on Eddie Munson. Her palms should be sweating, her knees should be wobbling, her lungs should feel weak, but none of that was happening. She was sure not only in every step she took, but in each one she knew Eddie was surely taking in order to follow her. All of her anxiety she had felt with Robin minutes before had dissipated. They continue in silence until they approach where the trees begin breaking up, and the bushes along with the grass start to break up into patches. 

“Everything alright?” Eddie asks as he almost runs into Willow when she slows down suddenly. 

“Yeah,” she lies, “Just tired.” 

Really, she just needed a moment to gather her thoughts. While she still wasn’t nervous, she also wasn’t exactly sure how to word her offer. 

Hey there, Munson. I know we never really spoke before and one of my closest friends actually contributed to bullying you before he graduated, but do you want to fake date? C’mon, I’ll make it worth your time by helping you graduate, if you even still feel like graduating.

“Well, there’s the light at the end of the tunnel, Red. C’mon,” he puts a gentle hand on her shoulder as he steps past her, taking the last few strides into the clearing.

She has no choice but to follow. 

“Wow,” she mumbles, looking around the clearing. It was gorgeous, strangely peaceful. The trees stood tall around the circle, letting curtains of sunlight flicker in to bathe the clearing. The edges around the clearing were thick in bushes and splatters of colorful wildflowers, a few of the trees bases even wrapped in ivy. At the center of the clearing, there was a wooden picnic table pressed up against a giant oak tree. Willow doesn’t even think she could probably wrap her arms around the massive trunk. She’d listened to people describe it ten times over, Steve included, but none of the descriptions did it justice. Maybe it was because everyone had always been so focused on the person they were meeting here, and what they were meeting here to do, rather than actually caring about the nature aspect of it all. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen someone appreciate this place,” Eddie chuckles, moving to the picnic table while Willow turns in a slow circle in an impressed haze, “I guess I’m just used to it.” 

“You come here often?” Willow asks, not even considering how flirtatious her question comes off until Eddie starts to make a face.

“I’m going to be a gentleman and not tease you for that lame excuse for flirting,” he pauses, and Willow starts to defend herself with a ‘ It’s not flirting! ’ but he holds up a finger that keeps her quiet, “To answer your question, for real, yeah. This is where I usually make my deals. You know, the ones that do involve drugs.” 

“Oh.” 

Of course, she had forgotten. She finally sits herself down across from Eddie, the prickly wooden bench digging into the back of her thighs through her jeans. For a moment, they just sit and stare at each other before Eddie dramatically sighs and leans forward onto his hand. 

“What?” Willow narrows her eyes. 

“Nothing, Red. You’re the one running the show here. I’m just waiting for you to spill that dirty little secret.” 

“It’s not a dirty secret, Munson,” Willow corrects, “Just an embarrassing one.” 

“What? You about to confess that you’ve secretly been in love with me for years?” 

“Huh?” Willow crinkles her nose, using all of her strength to fight back the smile she feels tugging on her lips, “No, I’m not.”

“What about Harrington? Did he send you with his confession?” 

“Jesus Christ, no, Eddie,” Eddie’s taunting grin and teasing tilt of his head both straighten out slowly when she calls him by his first name, “This has nothing to do with Harrington.” 

It has everything to do with Steve. 

“Alright, then out with it. I thought you were in a rush.” 

Willow takes a deep breath, closing her eyes and awaiting for her anxieties to kick in but… nothing comes. She can’t find it in herself to be terrified when Eddie’s brown eyes are shining at her like that. There’s a comfort behind them she’s suddenly thankful for. 

“Okay, so, this is going to sound insane,” Willow begins cautiously, “But I have a proposition, of sorts, for us…” Willow trails off, still racking her brain for the right words. 

“Gathered that much this morning,” Eddie nods, motioning for her to continue. 

“Well…Basically…” Willow stops her sentence, finally opening her eyes. Fuck it . “Do you want to fake date me?” 

Eddie is quiet far too long for her liking, and suddenly, the anxiety is ready to claw at the back of her throat. 

“Please say something, even if it’s just to laugh,” Willow has never heard her voice come out so soft, so small. Eddie’s eyes are avoiding her, flitting anywhere but hers. It’s almost painful. 

“I…” Eddie finally makes a small squeak, “I’m sorry, is this a shitty prank?”

Willow’s stomach drops. “What do you mean?”

“Did Harrington or Jason or someone put you up to it? To humiliate me or some shit?” Eddie’s words hold no malice, instead a certain sadness. He sounds like he feels just as small as Willow does at this moment. 

“Eddie, no. I… Let me explain, okay?” her hands twitch as she almost reaches out to hold Eddie’s, but decides against it. They really aren’t close enough for that. “I have a crush on this guy, right? And he’s spent the entire summer looking at every girl except me. So me and Robin had been joking around, and she made this stupid suggestion that I pretend to date someone to get under St- this guy’s skin. Catch his eye, you know? And then… I don’t know. It was the day you walked into Scoops. That’s why Robin was acting weird. You just sort of fell into my lap and now that I’m saying this all out loud, it sounds so stupid . If you want, I can fuck off and leave you alone the rest of the year.” 

Willow doesn’t breathe once during her speech, only after she’s spilled her guts does she take one gasp of air. Eddie is looking at her, listening and giving her his full attention with his wide eyes. She swears he was holding his breath right along with her. 

“ Shit , you aren’t joking,” Eddie finally says. 

“No, I’m not.” 

“You actually want me? Like, you want me to be your fake boyfriend? Why ?” 

“Like I said,” Willow begins to explain again, “You just sort of fell into my lap. I had said I needed someone loud and someone who is willing to get under other people’s skin for the hell of it, and then poof . You walked into Scoops.” 

Eddie breaks into a small smile. “You know, I almost didn’t go in with Gareth. Told him I didn’t want to see Harrington’s stupid face.”

 Willow doesn’t respond, but she does return his small smile. 

It is funny, the way the Universe works out, how one choice changes everything. For example, if she had listened to Robin and grew the balls to ask out Steve, she wouldn’t be sitting here with Eddie Munson, embarrassing herself to all Hell. 

She isn’t sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. 

“Who’s the guy?"

“What?” Willow asks, shocked at Eddie’s boldness. 

“The guy you’re trying to get. I’d like a name so I know what I’m getting myself into. Plus, if you don’t tell me, I’ll probably spend the next month just pissing the entire town off, and that won’t work out well for either of us.” 

Willow snorts, “Isn’t that what you already do now? Piss off the entire town? Because it’s sort of why I chose you as my lead candidate.”

“Oh?” Eddie inquires, “There were other candidates?” 

“W-Well…yeah, obviously ,” Willow cringes at her stutter, knowing Eddie could call out her lie with ease. She should be thankful that they’ve managed to glaze over the topic of who Willow was crushing on so easily, but she’s starting to think that this topic was just as bad.

“Who was my competition?” 

“That’s confidential.” 

“Confidential, or nonexistent?” 

“Confidential.” 

Eddie’s cheeks are shining from his grin, and Willow is shrinking into her lie. Her tone has gone clippy, desperately wanting him to drop it. She couldn’t even name anyone. Not even randoms from her class, or lie and say Steve. Eddie had managed to have her that flustered in such a short time.

“So what’s in it for me?” Eddie continues, “You said this was a deal. I play pretend, obnoxious boyfriend so you can catch some guy’s eye. But what do I get?” 

“I was going to offer to help you graduate.” 

“People have tried tutoring me before. It doesn’t really work out.” 

“Not just tutoring. I’m talking… writing your essays, helping you cheat, whatever it takes to get you out of Ms. O'Donnell's English class from Hell.” 

“ Now you’re speaking my language,” Eddie sighs, happily leaning back.

“So you’ll do it?” Willow’s small voice is back, eyes wide and boring into Eddie. She hopes he doesn’t see how badly she suddenly wants this. It’s real, tangible, no longer a silly joke with Robin. 

Not only that, but she’s once again thinking about Robin’s joking about someone that Willow would want to play pretend with. Someone she could genuinely fake it until it was believable. It’s a hard pill to swallow, but she can see herself spending time with Eddie; he has been nothing but kind to her. Even now, in this moment, as she laid out her intentions and felt so vulnerable. He could have mocked her, teased her, made an absolute joke out of her, but he didn’t. That night at the bar, he didn’t have to offer his jacket to her when he noticed her shivering, but he did. In all their interactions, Eddie had put forth the effort to be nice to Willow, and as silly as it sounded, that felt like reason enough to want to enter a fake relationship with him. 

“We’ll need to work out the full set of conditions and rules…” Eddie is rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “But…yeah. Yeah, I’m in.” 

Thank God. 

“Oh my God,” she sighs in relief, slumping forward and pressing her face into her palms before continuing in a muffled voice, “Never thought I’d say this, but thank you , Eddie Munson. You’re my lifesaver.” 

“Hm? What was that?” Eddie smirks and cups his left ear with his hand as he turns it towards her, “Sorry, didn’t quite hear you, sweetheart.” 

Sweetheart. 

Not Red, not Jenkins. Sweetheart.

“I said, you’re an absolute jackass,” Willow says when she lifts her head and meets his playful gaze. 

He gasps, holding a hand to his chest, similarly to how he did in English, “Now that’s no way to talk to your beloved boyfriend.” 

“ Fake boyfriend,” Willow corrects. 

“Technicalities.” 

Willow rolls her eyes before holding her hand out, “Do you have a sharpie?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Eddie doesn’t hesitate to dig into his backpack's front pocket, finding the marker surprisingly fast, “Here you go.” 

He drops the marker into her hand, but her other hand shoots out to grab his wrist before he can pull back. He lets out a small ‘ what the-’ but Willow uncaps the sharpie with her mouth before he finishes, pressing the tip to his forearm immediately. 

“Stay still,” she mumbles around the cap as she traces her number into his skin as neatly as possible.

Eddie Munson is rendered speechless. 

“This is my number, obviously,” Willow explains once she has finished and places the cap back on the marker, holding it out for him, “You’re going to need it. It’s just me and my mom, so if I don’t answer, it’s her. Please keep it rated PG if she answers, for your own sake.” 

Eddie is still speechless. Willow moves to grab her things, remembering that Robin and Steve were possibly still waiting for her, if not in the parking lot then at Family Video. 

“I’ll see you in class tomorrow, yeah?” Willow finally looks at Eddie, concerned, to see him staring at his wrist dumbfounded. The small curve of his lip is reassuring. “Earth to Munson?” 

“Sorry, what?” He looks up, a dopey smile and hair a soft halo around his face. He looks pretty. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, don’t forget your book,” Willow reiterates. 

“Right, right,” Eddie shakes himself from his trance, “Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.” 

“You know, I think I liked it better when you called me Red,” Willow makes one last poke at him as she stands up, backpack slung over only her right shoulder. 

He has to tilt his head back to look up at her, squinting his eyes against the sunshine that breaks through the sparse leaves. “Yeah? Guess I just wanted to try out something more romantic for my new girlfriend.” 

“Fake girlfriend.” 

“To-may-toe, to-maw-toe,” Eddie all but sings, leaning with his words before leaping up from the table, “Prepare to be sick of me, Red. Mark my words.” 

“Already am, Munson.” 

She knew she didn’t have Eddie convinced by the smile on his face. She really was a terrible liar.

Chapter Text

“Jesus Christ, did you run the entire way here?” 

Steve is leaning against the trunk of his car, Robin at his side, when Willow finally arrives at Family Video on foot. She’s sweaty, exhausted, but most importantly - she’s smiling. Her face is as red as her hair and her chest has never burned worse than it is now, even in gym class, but she can’t wipe the smile off her face. 

“Yes, now come on, or we’re going to be late,” Willow huffs as she strides right past her two friends, eyes set on the door of the establishment as she digs out her resume from her backpack. 

She can see the look the two exchange before Robin is the first to chase after her, “Wait up! Did Steve tell you he put his mom down for his reference?”

“What?” Willow turns and laughs at Steve over her shoulder.

“What’s wrong with that? She’s like, super well-respected,” Steve defends himself, rushing around the two girls to open the door for them. 

Willow mutters out a ‘ thank you ’ while Robin ever so lovingly groans ‘ dingus ’. 

Keith sits at the counter, looking bored as ever with a bag of cheeto puffs when they walk in. He doesn’t even greet them, much less look at them, until Robin is at the counter, slapping down Steve’s and her own resume. 

Willow is less aggressive, still a bit breathless as she gently puts her resume on top of theirs. “Hey there, Keith.” 

“Hi,” he replies in his signature monotone, looking up between the three friends, “You’re late.” 

“I know, we’re sorry, it was my fault. I got caught up at school,” Willow apologizes, inching the resumes towards him. He finally focuses on those and takes them from her. 

They all stand in silence for a moment while Keith is scanning over each of their resumes painfully slowly. Willow is slightly worried, hoping she won’t be caught in her lie. She’d put down that she worked at Scoops Ahoy with her friends. Which she knew was lying, but technically, she had been there enough that she felt like an honorary member of the crew. And when the decision to all apply to Family Video had been made, Robin was sure to coach Willow on everything from what to say about her previous work experience to what she needed to say regarding movies to get Keith to like her. She spent several hours on the floor of her bedroom with Robin pacing back and forth as she stressed the importance of directors that Willow no longer remembered the name of, of which films changed the trajectory of which genres, et cetera. The only thing Willow remembered was the movies Robin had drilled her to say were her favorite, mainly because the movies they’d chosen for her answer were her favorites. 

Robin is clearly getting antsy with Keith’s silence, finally piping up, “You know, uh, just to be clear, we weren’t fired, you know? The mall burned down and, like, killed a bunch of people.” 

Willow and Steve both nod in solidarity with Robin’s statement as Keith lowers their resumes, looking unimpressed. “Thanks for sharing. Didn’t know.” 

Willow cheeks are hurting from the fake smile she’s plastered on her face in hopes it would get Keith on their side. 

“Three favorite movies, go,” Keith suddenly says, snapping and pointing at Robin first. 

“Uh… The Apartment, Hidden Fortress, Children of Paradise,” she answers without missing a beat. 

Keith doesn’t respond before he  turns his eyes on Willow, who is wide-eyed, realizing it was her turn. “Oh, uh…” she pauses, not sounding nearly as confident as Robin had, but then her friend gives her a nudge and so she blurts out her favorites as approved by her, “The Exorcist, Jaws, and uh… The Thing.” 

“Didn’t think chicks were into horror movies,” Keith mutters, furrowing his brows at her. He doesn’t give Willow the chance to respond as he now snaps his fingers and points at Steve last. “You, go.” 

“Favorite movies?” Steve says as if he’s shocked, as if they aren’t standing in the middle of a movie store. 

“Did I stutter?” 

“Uh…” Steve pauses, looking down, his panic clear on his face. Robin clearly hadn’t trained him like she trained Willow, “Animal House, for sure,” he’s interrupted by Robin’s scoff, lifting his hand to his mouth in thought. He starts to look at his friends, first Robin, then Willow. He’s silently begging for help. 

Robin isn’t budging, but Willow opens her mouth to say something. Keith cuts her rescue attempt off, snapping and motioning to Steve. “Eyes on me, Harrington.”

“Yeah, uh, Star Wars?” Steve leans onto the counter, nodding his head as if assuring himself that's the right answer.

“A New Hope?” Keith questions. 

“A new what-now?” Steve’s eyes are ready to bulge from his head, and Willow is trying to keep her secondhand embarrassment under wraps. 

Keith is obviously becoming irritated. “ Which Star Wars?” 

“The one with the teddy bears, duh!” Steve makes a noise, clearly trying to replicate that of ewoks, and Robin is letting out a chorus of groans alongside Willow. 

“Jesus Christ, are you talking about the fucking Battle of Endor that we watched as a joke ?” Willow moans, head thrown back and eyes screwed tightly shut in embarrassment. 

“What? No? Uh… Oh, the one that just came out. The movie that just came out. The one with the Delorean and Alex P. Keaton and he’s trying to bang his mom! The time…” Steve trails off with a chuckle, and Keith looks ready to throw a punch at him. 

“Are you talking about Back to the Future?” Willow whispers, seeing Robin’s exasperated reaction as she leans forward onto her hands. “When did you guys see Back to the Future without me?” 

“Yep! Those are my top three. Classics,” Steve rushes out, grinning apologetically at Willow before looking back to Keith. 

By the look on Keith’s face, Willow had a bad feeling in her gut for Steve. 

Keith points at Robin, “You start Monday,” he then points at Willow, “you start Monday,” he finally points at Steve, “and you start never .” 

Willow can feel Robin’s shoulders slump from beside her along with her own. 

Damn it, Steve. 

Part of it is their fault. They should have included him in their ‘training’ - Robin was the only one in their group close to a movie critic. Example A being the Battle of Endor, the Ewok movie that had been Willow’s idea that Steve stood behind as they bullied Robin into watching with them. 

“Could you give us a second?” Willow turns to Steve, placing a soft hand on his shoulder. She almost can’t take the look of defeat he’s wearing. 

“Why?” 

“ Steve ,” Robin insists from around Willow, catching on. 

He walks away without another word, and the two girls don’t even have to look at each other before they spring into action. 

Harrington was getting this job with them, even if it killed them.

“Alright, you have to understand, Keith,” Robin immediately starts, leaning forward as if she were letting Keith in on a secret, “His taste may be pedestrian, but the dingus has other qualities.” 

“He’s a douchebag of the highest order,” Keith enunciates each word, clearly not having it.

“He was a bit of a prick to us in high school, I’ll grant you that,” Robin soothes Keith over, looking over to Willow, queuing her in. 

“ But ,” Willow interrupts, seemingly naturally. As if her and Robin weren’t kicking each other beneath the counter anxiously. She’s leaning onto the counter now and has a finger twisted in her hair as she looks into Keith’s eyes. God, please work . “He remains an absolute chick magnet.” 

She almost has Keith entranced, but when she mentions Steve being a chick magnet, he sours. “Yeah, okay, and how is that relevant to me?” 

A sharp kick to Robin’s shin. She leans forward even more animatedly against the counter, answering Keith as if that’s the dumbest question he could have asked. “Uh, earth to Keith. The ladies will come in just to see him.” 

“They’ll come in, in droves. Droves , Keith,” Willow adds in. 

“We sold so much ice cream, they had to get a second shipment from Michigan,” Robin rapidly explains as if Keith should already know this, as if this is the most obvious thing in the world. 

Willow is biting a smile, dropping her palms to the counter and sliding them towards Keith on the counter for emphasis, “God damn Michigan , Keith.” 

They’re saying it like Michigan is the most interesting place in the world. As if getting a shipment of ice cream from there is a golden ticket. Keith still seems a bit confused, but Willow can see the interest sparked. She knows they’ve got him right where they need him. 

“And the ladies,” Robin begins before inhaling sharply, “These ladies are hot. They’re so very hot,” Robin is stressing each of her words, eyes never leaving Keith’s, “And there are too many of them for little Steve. He needs assistance.” 

He’s putty in their hands as Willow adds, “Not just any assistance. He needs your assistance, Keith.” 

Keith looks dazed as he brings another cheeto to his mouth, and with his mouth full asks them, “What’s in it for you guys? Do you both have a thing for him or something?” 

“What? No-” Willow begins, but they’re cut off by a commotion coming from behind them. Steve has run into one of the cutouts for Fast Times at Clairemont High. 

“He’s just…” Robin trails off, watching him as Willow is. He struggles to get the cardboard to stand back up on its own, but Willow is looking at him as if he’s putting the stars in the sky at that moment. Everyone can see it: Robin sees it, Keith sees it, even the old lady browsing the old western section can see it. Robin finally continues as Steve continues to flail, “He’s just our friend.” 

“Fast times,” Steve says, lifting the cutout for emphasis, “Fast times! Ever heard of it? Top three for me, Keith.” 

Keith makes a face as Robin and Willow snicker at the boy, turning and facing each other finally.  

Steve Harrington was an absolute idiot. But he was their idiot.

–--

“You so owe us, Harrington!”

“Yeah, Willow almost had to flirt with Keith! God damn Keith!” 

Willow, Robin, and Steve are sitting at a booth in what was once Benny’s Diner, now under new management as a Denny’s. They’d come straight here to celebrate once Keith had cracked and hired Steve to start Monday as well, each ordering a shake as well as splitting a plate stacked high with french fries in the center of the table. 

“Yeah, yeah. Check’s on me today,” Steve mumbles around his straw, seated across from the two girls. 

“Damn right it is,” Robin agrees, dipping a fry in her cake batter milkshake. 

Willow is smiling, leaning back against the soft leather of the bench while taking in her two friends. They had done it – she was officially coworkers with these two idiots. “What are we going to do with all three of us now having paychecks?” 

“Cause so much trouble,” Robin immediately says through the last small mouthful of shake. 

Steve nods in agreement as he minds his manners, swallowing before replying, “Oh, absolutely. Watch out, Hawkins. We’re the new menaces in town.” 

Willow laughs, sipping her strawberry shake, when she sees Steve glancing at his watch. She wants to question him on it but decides against it when he quickly tucks his wrist back away beneath the table, gaze catching hers and sending her a small grin. It’s making her heart do somersaults, high knees, backflips, every cheesy description of an erratic cardiac system there is. Somewhere during this cheer routine her right artery has decided to begin, she remembers what she had done before the interview.

Eddie, in the woods, alone with her, agreeing to be her fake boyfriend.

Eddie Munson agreed to be her fake boyfriend. 

“Eddie Munson is going to be my partner for the first project in O’Donnell’s class,” she suddenly blurts out, cursing herself for ruining the moment when Steve’s smile fades. She decides to continue with sarcasm, a language they’re familiar with. A language that leaves no room for feelings between them. “Thanks for the heads up on that, by the way.” 

Steve ignores her sore attempt at lightening the mood, “Munson? You’re going to ask O’Donnell to change partners, right?” 

There it is again. His jaw is clenched the same way it was at Scoops. The same way it was when she walked through the door of the bar with Eddie’s jacket draped over her arm. It’s as if the very thought or mention of Eddie Munson makes Steve Harrington want to implode on himself, to grind himself down to dust, beginning with his teeth. Willow feels the tension buzz across her skin and she knows it’s now or never. 

Make him jealous. Get under his skin. 

“And why would I do that?” 

It’s an innocent question. 

It clearly gets on Steve’s last nerve.

“ Why ? C’mon, Jenkins. He’s failed twice. He’s a jerk. The list goes on and on.” 

“First of all, you barely scraped by with a D from O’Donnell, so get off of that high horse,” Willow reminds Steve, “Second of all, he’s not a jerk. As someone who has now had two actual conversations with him, he’s kind of nice.” 

“Just the two?” Robin questions, counting up in her head and not realizing the damage she just did. Or maybe, Willow should consider it help. But Steve bristles, and Willow’s heart clenches. “I thought it was more like, three, or four now-”

“Robin,” Willow stops her, eyes never leaving Steve’s. 

This is a mistake. 

“Oh, so you’re best friends with Munson now or something?” Steve seemingly grits out, maintaining eye contact with Willow just as fiercely as she was with him. There’s a fire there she can’t recognize. 

“It’s not like that. We just have a few classes together.”

“And you’re defending him.”

“What did Eddie even do to you that got him on your shit list? Why do you hate him so much?” Willow avoids addressing what Steve just said. It’s ironic, the circles she’s swimming in between Steve and Eddie. When she’s with Eddie, she’s defending Steve. When she’s with Steve, she’s defending Eddie.

It’s exhausting, and it’s only just begun. 

Robin has gone silent at Willow’s side, choosing to finish off her milkshake as she listens to the two of them argue. 

“What didn’t he do?” Steve vaguely waves off.

“No,” Willow says, anger pricking at the back of her neck now, “Seriously. That’s not an answer, I want a real answer. You tell me a genuine reason to hate Eddie Munson, I’ll switch partners. But if this is just some stupid game of social status, then-”

She bites her tongue. She knows how she wants to finish that sentence and she knows that she isn’t prepared for the consequences. She’s just irritated, frustrated that she can’t snap her fingers and make Steve Harrington stop being ‘a douche of the highest order’, as Keith had so lovingly put it. She had seen the change in him, and Robin had seen the change in him, but only towards them. 

He was still seen as his high school reputation to the rest of the town, and he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, whether it painted him as a villain or not. 

“Then what? Go ahead, finish that sentence,” Steve challenges her, eyebrows raised in expectancy. 

Her tongue is heavy in her mouth. 

Then fuck off.  Then go fuck yourself.

She can’t say any of that to Steve. Her heart won’t let her. 

“Stop being mean,” she settles on saying, her mouth stiff as she forces the words out. Time stops for their booth, Steve’s furrowed brows smoothing out as her words register. They both know she had crueler words on the tip of her tongue, a product of her frustration, but instead she had chosen a softer blow that rang even truer; Willow just wanted Steve to be a good person. She could understand having to defend Eddie to Steve, that was the entire point of approaching him with her deal. But Willow didn’t want to have to defend Steve, to Eddie or Keith or anyone . Because she knew at his core, Steve Harrington wasn’t a bad guy. At least, not anymore. Maybe he was once upon a time, and maybe that negativity still lingered stubbornly in his bloodstream, but she knew at the end of the day he tried to maintain the best intentions. 

She’s shocked when despite his softening expression, Steve rushes to pull out his wallet and throws a twenty on the table. “I have a date, we need to get going.” 

“A date?” Willow whispers. She swears the entire diner can hear the distinct snap that happens within her chest.

“You can go ahead, Harrington. We’re big girls, we can walk home,” Robin breaks her silence, putting her arm around Willow’s shoulders. 

“What? No,” Steve shakes his head violently, “I’m not letting you guys walk home.”

“It’s fine,” Willow agrees finally, taking one look at Robin and knowing she wanted to speak to her alone. She motions to her glass in front of her, “I’m not done with my shake yet anyways.” 

Steve is no longer staring Willow down, but now Robin. And unlike Willow, Robin’s not littered with soft spots that could lead to her backing down. They all know that if Robin says so, then the two girls will be staying here while Steve leaves, and there’s nothing else to say to that. 

“Go, dingus. Have fun on your date,” Robin clearly kicks Steve under the table as she says this, and his face falls further than it did during his fight with Willow. 

He finally stands up from the booth. 

Steve - 0. 

Robin - 1. 

“I’ll see you guys later, then, I guess,” Steve mutters, standing up straight and looking down over the girls, “Please make sure to get home safe. Please .”

“We will,” Willow reassures, pushing down her pride enough to offer him this sliver of comfort. She was still mad at Steve, furious even, but she couldn’t bear the thought of him being worried over them. 

Robin doesn’t say a word, only offering a physical wave. She maintains her silence as Steve turns his back on them, watching wordlessly as he walks through the front doors and heads to his car while sparing several glances at them through the glass windows they were seated at. 

Only once Steve has peeled out of the parking lot does Robin say something.

“You saw Eddie after school.” 

It wasn’t a question, or an inquiry. It was a statement - a matter of fact. 

“How could you tell?” Willow asks, eyes still stuck on the parking space Steve’s BMW once occupied. 

“I knew the moment you brought it up at lunch you were meeting him,” Robin laughs softly, “I was just waiting to see what shitty excuse you’d come up with after school to go meet him.” 

“Hey! I thought my excuse was pretty good!” Willow defends herself, tearing her eyes from outside to look over Robin’s freckles. 

Her friend offers her a smile that’s too kind given the circumstances, given that she shamelessly lied to her after school. “You’re a shit liar, ‘Low.” 

“You aren’t the first person to tell me that today,” Willow huffs bitterly, crossing her arms and leaning back. Her eyes now decide to burn holes in the seat Steve had occupied. 

Why was Eddie Munson suddenly worth getting into a fight with Steve over? 

“So what did he say?” Robin asks as she takes her spoon, scraping up the last bit of melted ice cream and whipped cream out of the bottom of her glass. 

“What?”

“Do you have a fake boyfriend or not?” Robin’s tone is still casual, face so neutral. 

“Oh, Jesus Christ, how did you manage to perfect your poker face?” Willow grumbles, staring her down, “But to answer your question: yes.” 

It’s only once Willow whispers out the ‘yes’ that Robin breaks, grinning and widening her eyes. “Holy shit.” 

“Holy shit,” agrees Willow. 

“So you’re Eddie Munson’s girlfriend now?”

“Fake girlfriend.” 

“So you’re Eddie Munson’s fake girlfriend now?” 

Willow is shyly smiling down at her empty milkshake glass, “Why can’t we say that Eddie Munson is my fake boyfriend? Why do I have to be his property?” 

Robin throws a light punch into Willow’s shoulder, “Don’t go feminist on me, Jenkins. Tell me everything. Now .” 

And that she does.

Chapter Text

Willow is exhausted when she walks into school the next day, feet dragging as she walks into O’Donnell’s room. 

Everything is too loud, too bright, too much. There’s a migraine pounding behind her eyes, and Willow is well aware it’s from her lack of sleep from the night before. She simply hadn’t been able to rest - she spent her entire time tossing and turning, mind ping-ponging from Steve to Eddie, back to Steve, and then to random thoughts of what kind of math homework Burley would assign by the end of the week, before going back to Eddie. 

She had hoped spilling her guts to Robin the day before in Denny’s would soothe any anxieties she had from the situation, but it had been to no avail. 

“So, you’re telling me he just… agreed? Just like that?” Robin questioned, face scrunched up in confusion.

“Yeah,” Willow shrugged, “Just like that.”

“There’s gotta be a catch.”

“No catch, except I’ll be doing his homework for the next month or so probably.” 

“No, mark my words, there’s going to be a catch,” Robin sighed, leaning her head onto Willow’s shoulder, “It’s never this easy in the movies.” 

Willow wasn't sure how to respond for a moment until she settled on, "Good thing this isn't the movies then, yeah?"

Her and Steve hadn’t spoken since their fight. And as for Eddie, he was nowhere to be seen as Willow plopped down into her assigned seat. She watches the minutes tick down as she bounces her foot, the sole of her Converse producing a muted tapping, and picks at her nail beds as her eyes narrow at the class doorway. A couple peers look uncomfortable at her hard gaze, but all she can think about is how pissed she’ll be if Eddie misses on just the second day of school. 

All it takes is for her to look down into her own bag, pulling out her copy of Little Women, for the man of the hour to appear beside her. 

“Good morning, Red,” he greets her, beaming, as he tosses a book onto her desk. It narrowly misses her own novel. 

“Morning?” she returns his greeting questioningly, looking up and meeting his shining and excited eyes. She feels guilty for her lack of enthusiasm as she gingerly picks up the book he’s so gracefully thrown on her desk, “What’s this?” 

“My annotated copy of Fellowship of the Ring,” he replies as if it were obvious, reaching down and snatching her copy of Little Women, “I’m assuming this is your annotated book?”

She reaches out to stop him, but it’s too late. He has the book in his possession and takes his seat behind her, forcing her to twist in her seat to face him. “Yes, it is.”

She once again starts to grab the book to take it back, but he immediately holds it out and away from the two of them, “Nuh uh, finder’s keepers. That’s the point of the project, right, sweetheart?”

“Give me back my book, that’s not funny,” she complains, lifting up out of seat a bit in an attempt to snatch it back. Eddie’s arms are too long for her, and once she feels the cool breeze of the classroom’s AC on her lower back that’s now exposed from her reach, she settles back down with a pout. 

“Red, we’re supposed to exchange books. You were going to have to give it to me at some point.” 

“Yeah, but…” Willow trails off, knowing she has no real excuse, “It’s still my book. What if I’m not finished with it?”

“Are you not finished with it?” Eddie asks knowingly, smirking at her. 

“I- No. Well, yes,” she fumbles over her words, frustrated with how entertaining this was to Eddie. 

“Well what is it? Yes or no?”

“I’m finished with it, it’s just common manners to ask before you take someone’s stuff,” Willow finally mutters, turning away from Eddie’s now softening gaze and grabbing the book he deposited in exchange for her book. 

“Jesus, who put that stick up your ass this morning?” Eddie asks, keeping his voice low. She can hear movement of pages and knows he’s probably mindlessly flipping through the pages of her book. 

She freezes. She isn’t sure what upsets her more - the fact that that’s his reaction, or that he’s right. The lingering effects of her fight with Steve had soured her mood. 

“I don’t have a stick up my ass,” Willow is just arguing for the sake of arguing now. She knows she does have an attitude this morning. But for some reason, she wants to make it Eddie’s problem as well. 

“Yes, you do,” Eddie is playing right along as she twists back around to face him. There’s still a ghost of a grin on the corners of his mouth. 

“I don’t.” 

“You do.” 

“Fuck off.” 

“You first.” 

Neither turn away from each other. In fact, Willow has comfortably adjusted herself to simply sit facing Eddie rather than pretzel her back just to face him. She grabs his book from behind her on her desk and brings it to her lap. 

“I’m surprised you remembered to bring it,” she mumbles, fingertips trailing over the spine of the book. It was a paperback, unlike Willow’s hardcover, yet clearly well loved. 

“Why else would I almost be late to my favorite class?” Eddie’s voice drips with sarcasm as he nods towards O’Donnell, who has taken her place at the front of the class right in time with the bell. “Can’t you just see the way that hag is the light of my life right now?” 

Willow is snickering, mostly unaware of the fact her and Eddie were amongst the last few distracted students as Ms. O’Donnell clears her throat.

“Alright, settle class,” she doesn’t name drop, but she does send a hard stare Eddie’s way as Willow forces herself to face her teacher, “Welcome back. Today, we’ll be jumping back into working on our projects. I’ll be coming around with packets of questionnaires you’ll be completing as you approach each time milestone for this project, as outlined with the instruction sheet I handed out yesterday.” 

Willow can hear a chorus of groans from under the breaths of just the students surrounding her, the entire mood of the classroom dampening. She didn’t mind the homework, personally. She’d glanced over the sheet and nothing seemed outrageous in her opinion. They’d have a month to read each other’s books, answer some questions to prove that they’d done exactly that, and it would earn them an easy A (hopefully). 

“By the end of today, you should have exchanged novels with your partner and answer the first three questions, simply stating the book your partner chose, why, et cetera,” O’Donnell continues to explain as she walks to her desk and picks up a thick stack of packets, “Please begin, and remember to keep the volume low as to not disturb fellow classmates.” 

With that, she’s off. Instead of individually dropping off the packets, she hands stacks at the head of each row to be passed back. It doesn’t take long for the final two packets of their row to reach Willow, and she doesn’t hesitate to return to facing Eddie and handing him his packet. 

“So, Munson, why’d you pick the Fellowship of the Ring as your summer reading book?” Willow asks as she pulls out a pencil. 

Eddie doesn’t answer her, distracted with his nose in her book. He’s not reading it, not properly at least. He’s clearly squinting and judging one of her annotations. “I think the real question is why did you choose this book?” 

“What do you mean?” 

Eddie flips the book shut and turns it over in his hands, reading the synopsis on the back cover, “It’s just- it’s just a romance novel? What?” 

“I mean, not really. But I guess if you want to dumb down the creative genius that is Louisa May Alcott, then yes - it is just a romance novel.” 

Eddie glances up at her over the book, “I can’t believe I’ve graced you with an epic adventure story that’s sure to keep you on the edge of your seat, and you’ve given me a bedtime story at best.” 

“It’s not a bedtime story!” Willow defends, itching to snatch her book back, “It’s just… so what if it doesn’t have the kind of adventure you’re looking for? That doesn’t make it boring .” 

Eddie scoffs, putting down the book, “I have bad news for you, sweetheart. If a book doesn’t catch my attention, then I don’t read it.” 

“Now who has a stick up their ass?” Willow swallows down her offense; she's taken back by Eddie’s reaction, scrunching up her nose and eyebrows. Really, she should have expected this. But out of all the worries that had popped into her head upon being paired with Eddie for this project, him not liking her choice of novel hadn’t even made the list. 

“Still you,” Eddie smiles, tilting his head as Willow rolls her eyes, “Speaking of your ass stick-”

“For the love of God-” Willow starts to interrupt him, but he ignores her, continuing on his sentence.

“We need to work out our terms and conditions for the whole fake-dating proposition. Make it official.” 

“Keep your voice down, yeah?” Willow whispers, not wanting anyone to overhear them and catch on. What would be the point of fake-dating Eddie if they had a rumor of it all being fake hovering over their head? Even if Steve is no longer in high school, he’d be sure to catch wind of a rumor that is as monumental as that. 

“Sorry, sweetheart. Is the mystery guy you still haven’t told me the name of yet in this class?”

Willow had hoped after yesterday, Eddie would give up trying to figure out who it was that Willow had her eye on. She’d successfully redirected his attention at the time, but clearly, he was going to be persistent on the topic. 

“No, but word travels fast if someone overhears us,” Willow explains, mindlessly twirling a piece of her hair around her right middle finger. She doesn’t fail to notice the way Eddie’s eyes immediately zone in on it, watching her hair as if he’s been hypnotized by the shades of crimson. 

“So what I’m hearing is we need to meet up somewhere super private after school again, right?” Eddie questions, seeming eager at the idea. 

The prospect of spending more alone time with Eddie is daunting. Willow gets nervous just thinking of it, despite remembering the way it had been so easy yesterday. He never once made her feel uncomfortable. There was no reason for her to panic at the thought of returning to the clearing with Eddie. 

“I don’t know what excuse I’d use for Robin and Steve,” Willow says softly, more for herself than for Eddie. She’s thinking through the motions she’d have to take to meet up with him, and the first roadblock would immediately be her friends. However, after her fight with Steve, it might be ideal to give him time to cool down. She’d already given him this morning, having Robin pass along the message that she wanted to walk to school today. It really wasn’t that bad, but if Willow could avoid it, she would. “Plus, I’d have to walk home.” 

Eddie immediately shakes his head, “No, you wouldn’t.”

“Yes, I would. Steve is my ride home,” Willow explains. 

“I can give you a ride home,” Eddie says it so casually, Willow almost doesn’t catch what he’s offering. He’s saying it as if he’s telling her what the weather is like outside, or that it’s a Tuesday. 

It’s Willow’s turn to shake her head, “No, you don’t need to do that. I don’t mind walking.” 

“Red, I’m insisting. If you agree to meet me after school, there’s no way in Hell I’m letting you walk home,” Eddie’s voice is surprisingly stern as he looks into Willow’s eyes, contact unwavering. She realizes this isn’t an argument she can win with Eddie. 

“Fine, okay. That takes care of that problem. Any genius ideas for what excuse I should tell Robin?” Willow mutters, fingers back to tracing Eddie’s book. She’s shockingly okay with the fact that they’re not discussing the project at this moment. 

“Easy, the truth,” Eddie shrugs, once again holding a tone far too casual for what he was suggesting, “Just tell her you’re working on a project with me. It’s not technically a lie.” 

That’s when it hits Willow. She doesn’t have to lie - she just has to come up with a lie for Robin to convince Steve of. And Steve already knew that Willow was partnered with Eddie, meaning his idea of saying it’s a project was perfect . 

“Eddie, have I ever told you that you’re a genius?” Willow asks, leaning forward towards him with a grin. 

“You’ve actually said quite the opposite, making fun of me for being a super senior,” Eddie reminds her, but his smiling face tells her there’s no hard feelings. 

It doesn’t stop Willow from feeling a tug of guilt, “I’m sorry for that. It was a low blow.” 

“Nah,” Eddie leans forward, and Willow is surprised by how minty his breath is. She’s surprised how okay she is being close enough to smell his breath, period, “It was funny as Hell. You should be mean more often, Red. Especially with me.”

“What? No, I’m not going to be mean to you on purpose,” Willow says, scrunching her face but making no move to put space between herself and Eddie. 

“I know you are to Harrington. And I’ve overheard the shit you’ve said to Buckley in the halls. I think as your fake boyfriend, I might get a little offended if you don’t get tough with me. Seems like your love language.” 

Willow doesn’t have a smart ass remark ready to fireback because her brain short-circuits at a sudden realization.

If Eddie overheard her in the halls with Robin, it meant she was on his radar before this entire situation. It had never occurred to her that while she was judging Eddie in the years before based off of the reputation he had earned, that he might be perceiving her in the same way. 

“Am I wrong?” Eddie asks, suddenly waving a hand in front of Willow’s blank face. She jerks back to life, pushing the thought to the back of her mind. She could overthink on it after school, after her meeting with Eddie.

“I guess not. I’d just never seen it that way,” Willow explains. 

Eddie is obviously satisfied with her answer with the way that he finally leans back, smirking. “I guess I know you better than you know yourself, huh?” 

In a repeat from the day before, Willow opens her mouth to answer him only to be interrupted with the ringing of the bell. Eddie is patiently awaiting her answer, but Willow opts to start packing up slowly instead. 

She doesn’t see the way Eddie’s face falls once he realizes that she isn’t going to indulge him any longer. 

It’s only once she’s safely tucked the packet they were given today into her English folder, which in turn is safely tucked under her arm, that she finally turns her attention back to Eddie. She’s standing over his desk, looking down at him messily shoving his papers into his backpack. 

“Super, super senior,” she says plainly. 

Eddie glances up, face relaxed but intrigued. “What?” 

“I made fun of you for being a super, super senior. Two supers.”

“Ah, so if I had managed to catch your attention last year, you wouldn’t have made fun of me?” Eddie catches on quickly, corners of his mouth rising into a teasing smile that matches Willow’s currently. 

She shrugs in response, “Maybe. Or maybe I would have just had to have found something else to make fun of you for.” 

“Hit me with your best shot, Red. I’ll be waiting.” 

---

Eddie didn’t show up for chemistry. And if he did make an appearance at lunch, Willow didn’t catch sight of him considering she kept her back in the direction of his table the entire period. She focused all her attention on Robin and one of the other band kids, the two co-narrating a story of what had gone down in the band room before practice that morning. Something about two seniors getting caught making out, shirts off. Willow didn’t catch the names of the two students, but felt the second-hand embarrassment all the same. 

It’s only as gym class finishes for the day that she lets Eddie Munson take over her thoughts once more. 

She and Robin exit the building with bulkier backpacks than before, now fitting their gym uniforms into their bags. 

“Hey, so, I’m not getting a ride home from Steve today,” Willow announces as they begin to walk the same route they had just the day before. This time, Willow plans to be shameless. She has nothing to hide from Robin. 

“Oh, c’mon, Willow. How long are you going to let your pride walk you to and from school?” Robin whines, “Besides, Steve was almost unbearable because of his sulking over you. When are you two going to make up?” 

“First of all, he was the one acting like a jerk. We’ll make up when he swallows his pride,” Willow defends herself, “Second of all, I’m not walking home. I’m meeting up with Eddie.” 

“What? Again?” 

“Yes, again. We have some details to work out. But if Steve asks you, we’re working on O’Donnell’s project, got it?” Willow stops walking and Robin does the same, looking into her friend’s eyes. She wasn’t sure if she would have better luck using a ‘mom voice’ on Robin, or pulling out her puppy dog eyes. 

“You want me to lie for you.” 

“You’re not lying. We are meeting for a project, just… just a project that happens to be extracurricular.” 

“And you want me to cover for your ass?” 

“This was your idea,” Willow reminds her, finally choosing puppy dog eyes as her final method. 

It only takes a moment of staring before Robin snaps her eyes shut, shaking her head away from Willow as the girl begins to grin widely. “Oh, stop with the puppy dog eyes, Jesus christ! Fine, fine. I’ll cover for you. Just this once, though. I do really expect you and Steve to make up, even if I have to trick you guys and lock you into a room together to force it to happen.”

“I will, I promise. I’m just giving him space, Rob. You know me, I can’t go more than two days without the idiot,” Willow laughs, slipping the second strap of her backpack over her other shoulder to prepare herself to walk across the football field. 

“Yeah, yeah. And soon we’re going to be saying that about Munson,” Robin mutters, face scrunching as she shoos Willow away, “Go see your loverboy. I’m sure he’s waiting for you.” 

“He’s not my loverboy!” Willow calls over her shoulder as she’s started speed walking across the field. 

“Whatever!” Robin replies, and Willow flips her the finger without sparing her a second glance. 

It takes her longer to cross the field today considering she isn’t running. This time, she has the opportunity to smell the freshly cut grass and glance over the rusting bleachers on either side. She can even pinpoint the exact section she used to sit at to watch Robin during band practice, and eventually watch Steve during track. It makes her heart ache in the slightest to remember those chilly mornings, when the grass would still be dewy and the sun wouldn’t have found its warmth quite yet. She missed it. She missed when everything was seemingly simple, and she just had the beginnings of a silly crush on a dumb boy. 

She’d do anything to bring her monster of feelings back down several notches, back down to what it once was. 

Once Willow makes it to the woods, she tries to retrace her steps from yesterday. Eddie had let her lead, sure, but something about his presence had reassured her that she was heading the right way. She knew if she took a misstep in the slightest that he was there, ready to steer her back on track. Today, she was missing that safety net. Even so, though, she miraculously finds herself approaching the clearing after a few careful minutes with her eyes glued to the ground in order to continue to follow the makeshift trail in place. 

She was expecting to have to wait around for Eddie, but he beat her to the clearing. 

He’s sitting at the picnic table in the dead center of the area already, looking down at a book that Willow can’t make out. He looks so peaceful that Willow slows her pace, trying to step carefully to enter his space without disturbing him. She can see his lips moving ever so slightly as his eyes trail over the written word. It’s an endearing habit that she’s seen many people do, including Steve. 

She doesn’t notice the twig until it snaps beneath her feet. 

“ Fuck ,” Eddie gasps, looking up frightfully but immediately relaxing as Willow emerges from the trees, “Oh, thank God. It’s you, Red. I thought you were Principal Higgins.” 

“Why would Principal Higgins know about this spot?” Willow laughs, taking strides to the picnic table but not sitting down quite yet. 

“I dunno, maybe a goody-two-shoes snitched. Or maybe some weirdo who’s trying to fake-date the school freak did. The possibilities are endless.” 

“Right,” Willow drawls sarcastically, still standing, “Definitely the latter. She  sounds like a snitch.” 

“Right? Definitely untrustworthy. Who would want to date, or fake-date, the freak?” Even with his joking tone, Eddie’s words make Willow’s heart clench. She hated that she knew behind his sarcasm and wit, there was a bit of truth to what he was joking about. She wasn’t blind - she could tell that Eddie Munson didn’t think very highly of himself. 

“Clearly the school snitch,” Willow says, finally taking a seat before digging into her backpack. Eddie watches her with unbridled curiosity as she pulls out a notebook and pen. 

“What are those for?” Eddie questions, reaching forward to grab the notebook and earning a smack on his hand from Willow. 

“Our terms and conditions. Figured you’d want it in writing.” 

“Oh,” Eddie says plainly, hands folded in front of him on the table as Willow flips to a clean page.

“Alright,” Willow clicks her pen, “So I figure number one is that you graduate, yeah?”

“Yeah, but that’s a bit vague,” Eddie points out, “Besides, I don’t think you’re trying to fake-date me the entire school year, are you?” 

That’s a good point. Willow hadn’t given consideration to how long this fake relationship would have to last. 

“Honestly? I don’t know. Do we want to have a time constraint?” Willow asks earnestly, bringing the end of her pen to her lips in thoughtfulness. 

“You would actually fake-date me the entire school year?” 

Willow ignores Eddie’s genuine shock. “What day would work best for you for us to get together each week to do your homework?” 

“Sundays. And you didn’t answer my question.”

“It’s not going to take the entire school year to see if this plan works, Eddie.” 

“You seem awfully confident. Are you trying to impress Jason Carver? Because I have bad news - he finally grew the balls to ask Chrissy Cunningham out,” Eddie rambles on as Willow scribbles down in her notebook. 

“I’m not trying to impress Jason Carver,” Willow sighs, not looking up from her writing to see the mischievous glint in Eddie’s eyes. 

“Okay. So not Carver. Who is the guy?” 

“Why do you need to know?” 

“Let me give you just an example, Red. If you had said the lucky man was Jason Carver,” as he starts dramatically, the use of ‘lucky’ doesn’t fly over Willow’s head, “Then I would know to make it my life’s mission to get under his skin. I’m talking theatrics at lunch, making out with you against his locker, going to every basketball game as Hawkins’ cutest couple. He’d be falling to his knees at your feet in no time.” 

Making out with you against his locker. 

Willow is blushing so profusely, she’s sure Eddie is just being polite by not saying anything. It takes all of her willpower not to look at his lips, to not let her imagination run wild with that imagery. She’d never kissed anyone, ever. She wouldn’t know where to begin if Eddie ever pressed her against a locker, especially Jason Carver’s, and stuck his tongue down her throat.

“Or you’d be in the hospital with severe head trauma after he kicks your ass,” she finally jokes, rolling her eyes in the continued effort to not stare at Eddie Munson’s lips. 

“Or that,” Eddie smiles softly. 

“It’s not Jason, though, so none of that plan needs to happen. Except maybe going to the games,” Willow thinks about it. Steve goes to the games occasionally, mainly out of support towards Robin. 

“Okay, so we need to go to games together. Only one issue, Red,” Eddie is doing the thing where he leans in closer to her, and she fights the urge to lean back and keep space between them. She doesn’t need to smell his minty breath when the image of them making out is still itching at the back of her brain, “Hellfire.” 

“Hellfire? Your club? Why is that an issue?” 

“We meet on Fridays,” Eddie explains, looking at her as if it’s obvious, “Most games are on Fridays.”

Willow’s mouth falls slightly agape, “Oh. Okay, yeah. You really don’t think your club would understand you occasionally missing a meeting for your girlfriend ?” 

“‘Fraid not, sweetheart. I’m Dungeon Master,” he says the words as if they have any meaning to her. Once he registers her blank stare, he continues on, “You know, Dungeon Master . One of the most important roles in Dungeons and Dragons.”

“You’ve lost me. Is there also a dragon master? What the hell is a dungeon master?” 

Eddie cackles, truly cackles. He throws his head back and she watches his eyes squint shut with laughter. “No, no, there isn’t a dragon master. Dungeon Master is essentially the person running the entire campaign. It’s… it’s not the easiest to explain. How about rule two is you have to come to a meeting and see me in action? Then it’ll make more sense.” 

“I go to a Hellfire meeting if you come to at least one game of my choosing,” Willow offers a compromise, pen lifted just over the page of her notebook, ready to write down the condition. 

Eddie thinks on it for a moment. Willow is glad that he’s clearly taking this entire situation seriously. “Okay. Fine. But… can it not be something you drop on me all suddenly and shit? Like, just give me fair warning? Pretty please?” he flutters his eyelashes at her dramatically at this, tilting his head as he does so. The sunlight catches his big brown eyes just right and they’re suddenly dripping in the color of honey, bright and glowing. 

“This club… you’re really serious about it, aren’t you?” Willow asks softly, still entranced by how his eyes are looking in the sunlight. 

“Well, yeah,” Eddie shrugs and leans back, sunlight no longer blinding him and causing Willow’s heart to skip beats, “It’s sort of my pride and joy. Besides, I just recruited some new sheeps. Can’t leave them hanging like that, you know?” 

“Sheeps?” Willow snorts unexpectedly, confused.

Eddie looks ecstatic at her amusement. “Yep, that’s what I call new members.” 

Willow can’t do much beyond smile widely, shaking her head at the term of clear endearment for Eddie. She finally puts her pen to paper once more. 

“So who are these new sheeps?” Willow asks casually as she looks up from her notebook. 

Eddie bursts into color, straightening his posture and grinning, “These freshmen kids, I saw them today just standing at the entrance of the cafeteria, looking lost as hell. And one of the kids, he was wearing a goddamn Weird Al shirt. That’s brave as shit, right?” 

“I don’t know if brave is the word I would use,” Willow bites back her laughter at the thought of the poor freshman wearing that shirt. 

“Well, it’s the word that I use. It was brave as hell. I just knew that kid belonged to Hellfire. Turns out that they all play D&D, which is perfect. This Friday is going to be our first meeting.” 

Even though Willow has no interest in the game, it warms something in her chest to see Eddie talking about this so happily. He’s clearly passionate about it. 

“Maybe I’ll have to tag along, then,” Willow suggests, and Eddie nods enthusiastically. They’re both smiling widely. 

They spend another ten minutes or so coming up with rules, ranging from having to go on at least one public date a week to Willow having to make Eddie’s leather jacket a staple in her daily outfit once Hawkins’ autumn chill creeps up on them (“Either wear it or return it, sweetheart. Genuine leather like that deserves to see the light of day.”). Eddie brings up that his band is set to play the Hideout every Tuesday night, and Willow agrees to come when she can. It’s all mundane and reasonable requests from both parties, and far easier than Willow would have ever expected. At some point, Eddie pulls out a baggie of pretzels from his lunch box, and they start to pass it back and forth as they snack between requests. 

Willow holds a pretzel between her fingertips as she glances over the list. 

• Homework/study sessions every Sunday.

• Willow must attend one Hellfire meeting – Eddie must attend one school game. 

• Two  One public date a week (Will take turns paying)

• Willow will wear Eddie’s jacket occasionally 

• Willow will attend Corroded Coffin’s performances (when she can)

“Are we okay with PDA? Like, on our dates and stuff?” Willow blurts out. 

Eddie is clearly taken back, mouth full of pretzel. “Huh?” 

“Like kissing and holding hands. You know, just to really sell the fact we’re dating?” Willow can feel her blush creeping back up her chest and neck. 

“I mean, I’m okay with it if you are?” Eddie seems nervous suddenly, and Willow is relieved when she spots a blush matching her own draped across the bridge of his nose. 

“I feel like we have to,” Willow furrows her brows, “No one’s going to believe we’re dating if they never see us kiss, or at least be willing to touch each other.”

“Trust me, Red. I have no problem touching you,” Eddie’s tone is cheeky, and Willow has noticed the more time they spend together, the more comfortable he’s been being extra flirty. When Willow’s only response is to clear her throat as she wills away her blush (seriously, since when did she blush so easily?), Eddie turns to a more serious tone, “We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. Say the word, and I’m sure if we put your megamind and my half-brain together, we can come up with alternatives.” 

Willow appreciates how willing Eddie is to accommodate her, how determined he’s been that they keep boundaries that make her comfortable. 

“No, no. I’m fine with it,” Willow insists, already penning in the rule, “I just…” 

I’ve just never kissed a boy. Or held hands. As a matter of fact, I’ve only held hands platonically with Robin, which doesn’t count. And if you were to kiss me right now or try to hold my hand, my body would become an alien thing I have no idea how to use- 

“You good, Red?” Eddie breaks Willow’s train of thought, silencing her worries with one softening glance. 

“Never better. I just want to warn you that I…” Willow is embarrassed suddenly at the prospect of admitting her lack of experience to Eddie. She knows that Eddie isn’t notorious for dating around the school, per se, but she’s sure he’s had experience. Or, at least a kiss . “I got the job at Family Video.” 

“Oh,” Eddie says, confusion gracing his features, “Uh, congratulations?” 

“T-Thanks! I mean, I just… I wanted to let you know because – well, I mean, it might take up some of my time, so I figure it’s only fair to warn you. Actually, can we add a rule that you have to visit me at work once a week? I need to sell this to Steve… a-and Robin! Robin, too!” 

Eddie watches her ramble with gleaming eyes, letting her stumble over her words nervously until she finally falls silent. 

“Sure, Red. I don’t mind visiting you at work. Add it to the list,” he nods down to her notebook, “Also, how long were you going to wait until you told me it’s Harrington you have the hots for?” 

Willow’s heart drops. “What?”

“You’re doing all this for Harrington.”

It’s not a question, just a statement. Eddie has seen right through Willow’s nerves and clearly caught onto her mistake of saying she needed to sell this to Steve specifically. 

“I am not.” 

“Yes, you are. Lie, badly I might add, all you want, but you already mentioned to me that Robin knows that this is fake. Why would you need to sell this to Harrington specifically? Unless…” Eddie trails off, leaving the obvious unspoken. 

Willow doesn’t respond, angrily writing down the addition of Eddie needing to visit her at work. 

“Hey, go ahead and write down that I’ll give you rides to school,” Eddie suggests as he seemingly moves on from the topic, reaching and tapping his finger against her list. The ink smears slightly under the pad of his finger, and his wrist is dangerously close to Willow’s. 

“Why would you give me a ride? Steve can keep giving me rides,” Willow shakes her head as she says this, swatting at his hand. It only makes him more persistent in his tapping. 

“He can still give you rides home from time to time, I don’t care. But if you are trying to get under Harrington’s skin by fake-dating me, this is a sure way to do it. Make it clear he’s been replaced.” 

“I’m not trying to make Steve jealous, drop it.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” he rasps, and Willow notices that despite the fact that he’s no longer tapping on her paper, he’s left her hand parallel to her own, “But I am. This is supposed to be a two-way street, sue me if it’s fun to make Harrington squirm.” 

Willow considers it for a moment, tapping her pen loosely on the table as she shifts her hand from next to Eddie’s. Even the thought of his pinky brushing hers right now makes her jump out of her skin, nerves wired from how quickly Eddie had seen through her bullshit. 

“Okay, fine. It makes sense in the morning, since we share homeroom. But not after school, we need to ease into that. Steve and Robin know I wouldn’t suddenly drop them.”

“Of course not,” Eddie is grinning triumphantly and finally pulls back his hand. 

Was he only doing that to get under my skin? 

“Anything else we need to add?” Willow glances over their updated list, the three newest additions of ink still wet. 

• PDA is allowed 

• Eddie will visit Willow at work

• Eddie will give Willow rides to school each morning

“None that I can think of,” Eddie sighs, and twists himself to be laying down on the bench he was seated on. He ducks out of sight from Willow for a moment, before finally he bends his knee up and it peaks over the table. She can see slivers of skin through the rips in his jeans, spreading wider as he continues to bend his leg. 

“Okay,” Willow nods despite knowing that Eddie probably couldn’t see her now, “Okay, cool. So, do we sign this now or something? Or just… Do I just keep it for reference?” 

“I was actually thinking of a blood ritual to bind us,” Eddie’s tone is teasing and carries with the soft breeze that rifles the trees around them. 

Willow laughs, letting her head hang backwards. She takes a moment to reach up and pull her hair out of the bun it was currently done up in; the hair style had become the easiest so far to keep her hair contained during gym class. Her scalp aches in the best way possible as her waves fall down over the back of her neck, and as she shakes it out, she catches the flashes of red when a few strands cover her eyes. 

She doesn’t even notice Eddie leaning up onto his elbows and watching her until he speaks up, “I think I like your hair best this way, Red.” 

“What?” she jumps a little, not thinking he had been paying attention to her. 

“Your hair. I think I like it best when you have it down. Sorry, just a random thought,” Eddie explains and apologizes, slowly lowering himself back down. She can see he’s flushed, as if he thinks he’s just embarrassed himself. 

“Oh, no, thank you. Don’t apologize. It just gets in the way a lot, you know?” She reaches up and tucks a majority of the strands behind her ears and out of her face, as if to demonstrate her point despite Eddie’s gaze no longer being on her. 

“Don’t I,” Eddie laughs, a laugh that sounds like it rumbles deep in his chest. 

Willow smiles to herself, understanding considering she’s never seen Eddie Munson’s hair not wild, seemingly having a mind of its own. “Why don’t you ever wear yours up?” 

“I mean, I do, sometimes. At home and band practice. I dunno, sometimes it’s just more of a pain in my ass to try tying it back than it is to just deal with it.” 

“Right,” Willow says, not knowing what else to say. 

A comfortable silence overtakes them and for a minute, she just wants to listen to the sounds coming from the forest around them. It’s quiet for the most part, minus the sounds of birds and the breeze. For just that minute, Willow’s mind goes silent for the first time in days. There’s no messy thoughts of Steve and their fight, or the way Eddie has suddenly carved out a spot in her life with such ease the last two days. She isn’t worried about Robin not covering for her with Steve or if her mom is waiting on her to get home. All she really cares about is the way the few rays of sunshine that break into the clearing feel on her cheeks, the pine scent tickling her nose. She can’t recall the last time she felt so relaxed. And if you had told her last week that she’d be feeling so calm, so at peace, while spending time with Eddie Munson out of everyone, she would have scoffed in your face. 

“We should probably get going. I have my show at the Hideout tonight, gotta load up the van.” 

Willow hadn’t even heard Eddie sit back up, unaware that her eyes had fluttered shut as she enjoyed the moment. “Oh shit, yeah.”

Eddie stands first, grabbing not only his backpack, but that lunchbox he carries everywhere with him as well. Willow swallows down her morbid curiosity, figuring that there’ll be another time, a better time, for her to question him about what’s in it.   

Willow has her own bag in hand, about to stand up, when she remembers that Eddie had offered to drive her home. She doesn’t give herself time to have any internal battles, 

“Hey, Eddie?” 

“Hey, Willow,” he mimics his reply. His eyes are on her, encouraging her to continue. 

“Can you still give me a ride home?” 

Eddie’s grin is ear-to-ear. “Already planned on it, Red.”  

Chapter Text

“And what happened after that?” 

“Nothing, Rob. He just dropped me off, and that’s when I came inside and called you.” 

Willow had spent the last thirty minutes on the phone with Robin, having immediately ran to her kitchen to call her best friend the moment she was out of Eddie’s van. She could still smell the stench of tobacco and something sweeter, a cologne most likely, clinging to her after sitting in his passenger seat.

“Oh, c’mon. You couldn’t have at least lied and made it interesting?” Robin whines, and Willow imagines her face all scrunched up. 

“No, since apparently, I’m a terrible liar,” Willow still isn’t going to let that go -  not with Eddie, not with Robin. She still found it unfair that they thought so little of her skill of bending the truth, even omitting it at times. 

“You’ve gotta get over that one, even Eddie agrees with me.”

“Yeah, he’s also on my shit list for it.” 

“Does he know he’s on your shit list?” 

“Well, no-”

“Hm. Interesting double standards.” 

“ Buckley , I’m going to hang up on you, I swear,” Willow threatens, twisting the excess of the phone cord around her fist, “Anyways, my point of calling was to keep you updated, and to let you know that I won’t need rides after tomorrow morning.” 

“Why after tomorrow morning? Just start getting rides from him tomorrow.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Willow mutters, “You two sound the exact same.” 

“So he did offer to start giving you rides starting tomorrow morning?” Robin presses, “If he did, then go for it. It’s like he told you, if you replace Steve with Eddie without batting an eyelash, it’s going to drive Harrington wild. Sure, I’ll have to put up with the backlash, but if this is a means to the end in which you two stop making heart eyes and just get together already -” 

“Alright, alright, alright. I get it. But I need to tell Steve in person and….” Willow trails off, realization settling heavy on her chest; she hadn’t seen Steve in two days now. Since meeting, they had never gone this long without seeing each other. Maybe it had been Willow’s crush, or maybe it had been Steve’s loneliness, but once Robin had introduced the two properly as friends, they became inseparable. If Willow didn’t go and bug Steve during his shifts, her days felt incomplete. 

“You two still need to make up,” Robin reminds Willow, pulling her back out of her mind. 

Willow nods slowly before remembering Robin can’t see her, finally softly replying, “Yeah, we do.” 

“Maybe we should all meet up tonight, hang out just for the hell of it?” Robin offers, and while Willow appreciates it, she doesn’t know if she has the stomach for it tonight . 

Don’t be a pussy , Willow thinks to herself. She needs to agree, or she knows she’ll avoid Steve for even longer. And soon a silly disagreement will become a week-long ordeal that has only worsened with age. 

“Fine. Okay. What do we want to do?” Willow didn’t give herself a chance to hesitate, or a chance to take it back. She needed Robin to lock her into plans and lock her into them fast . 

“How about bowling? We haven't gone since-”

“Since you and Steve nearly killed each other from being too competitive? Is that really the best idea?” Willow reminds Robin, twisting the cord around her fist even tighter. Her knuckles were beginning to turn white and the tips of her fingers were numb from lack of blood flow. 

“You’ve got a better one?” Robin asks. And she knows, Willow knows, the whole town knows that bowling is probably their best bet. There’s not much else to do around Hawkins. 

“Okay, just… promise you guys won’t tear each other’s throats out?” 

---

“Take that, Harrington!” Robin cheers once she manages yet another strike. 

“Oh, fuck off, Buckley,” Steve groans as he falls back against the bench beside Willow. 

Even after Robin promised that she wouldn’t make the entire ordeal into an excuse for a competition, it was inevitable. The moment they walked through the door, Robin Buckley was trying to prove hers was bigger than Steve Harrington’s. In the most loving way possible, of course. 

“You know what? I think I need celebratory nachos. Anyone else want nachos?” Robin is grinning, making finger guns at her two friends as she begins to walk past them to the snack counter. 

Willow realizes all too quickly she’s been left alone with Steve. 

They still hadn’t brought up the fight. As a matter of fact, they had been pretending that nothing ever happened. And Willow should be ecstatic, even take it as a signal that she didn’t have to apologize, but Steve’s disingenuity cut her even deeper than another fight would have. She just wanted her friend to talk to her, even if it started in a screaming match. She’d rather Steve scream at her than ignore her, than to pretend everything was alright when the ache in her bones was shouting that it wasn’t. 

“So,” Willow breaks the silence, putting on her big girl pants, “How was your date the other day?” 

Steve isn’t expecting it. Clearly, he thought they were on the same page of burying down the issue until it blew back up in their faces at a later time. “Uh, it was okay. I don’t think there’ll be a second one, though.” 

“Oh, why not?” Willow asks in a desperate attempt to keep the conversation going, making sure her voice was light and airy. She doesn’t want any jealousy to seep into her tone. 

It’s one of the hardest things she’s ever done. 

“She ducked out of the way when I went to kiss her cheek at the end of the date,” Steve admits sheepishly. Willow feels bad for the snort that escapes her lips as she leans back into the bench similar to how Steve had, their thighs now brushing. 

“You got cooties, Harrington?” Willow teases, momentarily deciding to push off her apology. She’d get to it. For now, it was just nice to be back to semi-normal with Steve. 

“According to Casey Fawn, I do!” he exclaims, running a hand through his hair as he smiles alongside Willow. “I mean, I know I’m not that smooth, but I just wanted to kiss her cheek .” 

“Haven’t you heard? Chivalry is out, being a jerk is all the rage in Cosmopolitan these days,” Willow bumps her shoulders against Steve’s. The touch soothes the fire of uncertainty raging inside her at the moment, albeit only minimally. 

After they laugh a bit more, it’s quiet. The sounds of the few groups gathered around them fill their space rather than their own words. Willow is going over in her head how to apologize to Steve, how to go about saying ‘ Hey, I was just being a bitch. But also, I went against all your warnings and need to break it to you that I don’t need rides to school anymore. But if you could give me rides home? Yeah. That’s great.’

“I’m sorry,” Steve blurts out, and Willow is shocked. He’s wringing his hands in his lap, anxiety coming off of him in waves.

“Sorry for what?” 

“The other day. I’ve just- Man, I’ve been such an asshole lately. Just after… after the- well, you know. The mall incident,” Steve motions with his hands, clearly being vague since they’re in public, “I think I just got a bit overwhelmed, and I took it out on you. And I guess, technically speaking, Eddie Munson too.”

Willow smiles at this, leaning forward to get a better look at Steve’s embarrassed face, “Is the Steve Harrington actually apologizing for being a jerk?” 

“He is,” Steve nods, meeting Willow’s thrilled gaze immediately, “He is, and he hopes his best friend knows that he’s going to spend the next like, month making it up to her.” 

“Be careful tossing around ‘best friend’,” Willow warns, “Robin might castrate you.” 

“I know, I know. But we both know she’s not going to share her nachos with us, so it’s what she deserves,” Steve waves it off, relaxing a bit. 

“Yeah, not a chance. She’s earned them, you know, with the three strikes in a row and all,” Willow throws her hand up, pointing in the general direction of the screen as Steve leans back his head with a breathy laugh, following her finger. She waits a moment, a sweet and ginger moment of Steve looking back to her and reaching up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, when she finally decides it’s time to swallow her own pride now, “I’m sorry, too. I was sort of a bitch.” 

“No, you weren’t-”

“I was. It’s okay to say it, we’re best friends, yeah? I was a bitch and you were an asshole, end of story. Just as long as you forgive me, it’s already forgotten and in the past.” 

“That depends,” Steve grins, hitting his knees into hers intentionally this time, “Am I forgiven?”

“You were forgiven the moment you left Denny’s yesterday, asshole,” Willow rolls her eyes, throwing a soft slap at Steve’s shoulder. 

“That quickly?”

“Always that quickly.” 

Always . Willow wasn’t even sure she could ever actually get truly, genuinely pissed off at Steve. Any time he did something that frustrated her, that made her the slightest bit angry, there was always a corner of her heart on his side. 

Robin interrupts the moment when she bounds up to them, nachos in one hand, a slurpee in the other, “You two better have made up, or God so help me-” 

“We did,” Steve interrupts her, standing up and snatching a nacho from her plate before she can react. By the time Robin has geared up to yell at him, he’s already swallowing, leaving behind a bit of nacho cheese in the corner of his mouth.

Willow follows suit, doing the exact same thing while Robin is too busy glaring at Steve. 

“And you said she wouldn’t share,” she teases, leaning down to the table in front of their bench and grabbing a napkin for herself, and a napkin for Steve. She leans back up and holds it out to him, subtly pointing to the corner of his mouth. 

“I’m not ,” Robin insists roughly, pulling her nachos out of their reaches, “Get your own celebratory nachos.” 

Steve and Willow are still laughing at their mini-heist of nachos as they gather up all their things, making their way out of the bowling alley and back to Steve’s car. Everything is feeling normal again - Willow is sitting shotgun, Robin is refusing to buckle her seatbelt, and Steve is driving like a grumpy old man. The conversation is full of inside jokes and more time is spent arguing over what music to listen to than actually listening to music before they make it to Robin’s house. Everything is exactly as it should be. 

Until Willow and Steve are alone in the car. 

Robin exits the backseat with the promise of seeing them tomorrow, and they wave her off. Steve gives her time to get inside before he takes off, beginning the short remainder of the drive to Willow’s home. They don’t talk, not right away, instead letting Abba chip away at the awkward silence. 

“Since when do you like Dancing Queen?” Willow suddenly questions as she watches Steve tap away on his steering wheel to the song. 

Steve shrugs. “It’s hard not to get it stuck in my head when I’m constantly hanging around you and Rob.” 

“We aren’t that big of Abba fans.” 

“Oh, yes , you are. Absolutely. I’ve never met anyone who can get down to them like you two can.”

“Get down?” Willow’s nose scrunches up, “Really? Please, for both our sake, never say that again.” 

The conversation dies back down as quickly as Willow had tried to revive it as they pull into her driveway. Her mom’s car is home. She doesn’t move to leave Steve’s car for a moment, wanting to just savor the moment. Something about Steve’s presence is nice, warm and inviting and familiar . His car smells clean and she notices the way his cologne smells for the first time in a while.

But then, she frustrates herself. Because her first thought isn’t how she wants to wrap up in its vanilla undertones or how nice it would be to wear one of his shirts that smell like this. No, her first thought is an unnecessary comparison. 

He smells sweeter, softer than Eddie. 

It’s an unbiased observation. She isn’t trying to figure out which cologne she likes better, or who brings her more comfort, or who’s car she could sit in longer. But the observation alone sends her spiraling back to the memory of the day before.

“Take a left here,” Willow instructed as Eddie approached her street at an alarming speed, “And slow down , this is a residential area, Eddie!” 

“So? I don’t see any kids out in the street,” Eddie snarked back, flinging them around the corner like Willow had specifically told him not to. 

“And you won’t, not going so fast. You’ll probably think it’s just a speed bump, Jesus Christ,” Willow muttered and gripped the edge of the passenger seat she was buckled into. Eddie’s van didn’t have handles above their heads like Steve’s car did, leaving her with nothing to ground herself as he raced towards her home. 

She decided to focus on the music playing over the radio instead, keeping her mind distracted so she wouldn’t have a heart attack before Eddie got her home in (hopefully) one piece. “What kind of music is this?” 

The music sounded similar to what Corroded Coffin had played. And while it still wasn’t a genre that Willow would listen to on her own, it was still grasping her interest. 

“You’re kidding, right?” Eddie asked, hair fluttering as he twisted his head to briefly look at her before turning back to the road. 

“Dead serious, Munson,” Willow insisted, waiting for his answer. 

“Oh, you know… it’s only the greatest band of all time,” Eddie snorted, fingers tapping along violently to the heavy guitar pumping through his speakers. He looked at Willow again, who was staring at him completely clueless. “I can’t believe it. You really don’t know Metallica.” 

“I mean, I’ve heard of them!” Willow defended, waving her hand wildly at the stereo, “I’ve just never listened to them!” 

“Oh, no, Red. We can’t have that. As my fake girlfriend, I’m insisting you get up to date on all metal bands.” 

Willow’s joking smile faded quickly, a nervous grin taking its place as she leaned back into her seat properly. “I, uh- I’m not the biggest metal fan.” 

“Really? Never woulda guessed,” Eddie’s words dripped with sarcasm, no ill intent behind them as he kept his teasing smile and looked her up and down for emphasis. She got the message, loud and clear: she definitely didn’t look the part of a metalhead. “That’s why you’ve got me.” 

“Yeah? What if I don’t want to get ‘up to date’ with metal bands?” Willow countered Eddie. She can tell by his reaction that he was enjoying the way she goes toe-to-toe with him. She not only took his shit, but she gave it right back to him. Even after only knowing each other for such a short time.

“I’m officially making it part of our terms and conditions. I help you get Harrington, you become a Metallica fan. It’s an even exchange, Red,” Willow didn’t even cringe when Eddie brought up Steve this time. She had given up - there was no point in lying to Eddie. She was just going to continue down the road of never directly confirming. It worked out just fine for both of them. 

Willow shook her head, hair still falling over her shoulders, “What? No way! That is not a fair deal. No, if I have to listen to your music, you have to listen to mine.” 

“And what is your music?” 

Willow grinned, “Fleetwood Mac, Queen, Blondie. I also have a soft spot for Toto. Oh! And Tears for Fears! I love them.” 

Eddie listened to Willow ramble about her music taste without saying a word, making a mental note of each band named. She was shocked when she finished the thought and he didn’t immediately quip a smart-ass remark. 

“What? No comment? No telling me how much my taste in music sucks?” Willow questioned before noticing they were coming up on her street, “Also, turn right up here.” 

“Sorry, I think you just broke my brain with how hopeless you are,” Eddie finally said after taking the right turn just as roughly as the first turn Willow had instructed him on. 

“Hopeless? C’mon, you have to admit my taste could be worse,” Willow deadpanned, mind having wandered to Robin’s taste. Or Nancy Wheeler’s, who absolutely ate up every neon pop song that existed.

“I don’t have to admit shit,” Eddie retaliated, “Your music taste is shit. Period. End of discussion.” 

Willow pretended to not hear him, only turning to him when he slapped her knee to regain her attention. “Huh? Sorry, I couldn’t hear you over the screams of your righteous taste in music. Seriously, do you always listen to your music this loud? Maybe your issue in school is your hearing. Do we need to get your ears checked?” 

“Fuck off,” Eddie cackled. 

Willow once again pretended to have issues hearing him, motioning mockingly between the radio and her ears, making a face, “Sorry! Still can’t hear you!” 

“Alright, alright, asshole,” Eddie mumbled with a smile as leaned forward and turned down the music, “Better?” 

“Much,” Willow replied, smiling sarcastically at Eddie, “My house is the brick one up on the left up here,” she pointed to where her home sat, her mother’s car missing from the driveway. 

“This is your humble abode?” Eddie questioned as he pulled into the empty driveway. Willow’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the seat even more roughly, Eddie having driven in so fast that she was worried he was going to blow through her garage door.

“Yeah, I know. It’s a mansion, right?” Willow joked. The small one-story home clearly wasn’t anything special, but it was the best that her and her mom could do for now. “My mom… she’s a nurse, so when we left my dad, we couldn’t afford anything super nice. And it’s just kind of stuck, I guess.” 

Willow didn’t know why she was defending herself and her home to Eddie. By the look on his face, he clearly didn’t mind how big her house was.

“Hey, I live in a trailer park. No judgment here,” Eddie tried to comfort her, and the information was a bit of a shock. 

“Really? I had no idea.”

“Most people don’t. I mean, no one at school has any real reason to know where the freak lives, right? Not throwing any parties or anything.” 

Willow shook her head and finally reached to unbuckle herself from the seat. “Well, I guess next time, we’ll have to go back to your place. It’s only fair you show me yours now that I’ve shown you mine.” 

Eddie picked up on her cheeky tone, “Oh, of course. I am, after all, a gentleman. I promise you’ll see my humble pile of trailer trash I call home by the end of the week.” 

“Hey! Don’t call it trash. No shame in living within your means,” Willow chastised him, leaning down to grab her backpack from the floor of the van, “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?” her voice was hopeful, though if you asked her, she would have denied it. 

Lucky for her, Eddie seemed just as hopeful, “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I think this is a record for how long I’ve gone without ditching.” 

“Really? Three days? If you want to graduate, you actually have to attend your classes, Eddie,” Willow reprimanded him, hand on the door but making no move to open it yet. 

“Who said I want to graduate?” Eddie cheekily replied.

“You did, when you agreed to me making that happen for you in exchange for this whole fake-dating situation. I’m adding you maintaining decent attendance to the list of conditions for us,” Willow informed him, being completely serious. After she calls Robin, she’ll put her pen to paper, making it official. 

Eddie mock-soluted her. “Yes, ma’am. Now, get out of my van. I have to go be a rockstar and shit.” 

“Yeah, and shit ,” Willow teased as she finally opened the door and hopped out of Eddie’s van. 

“See you, Red,” Eddie waved, his smile soft as he gazed at her. There was something about this moment that immediately made her want to stay, made her want to jump back into Eddie’s van and insist he just took her with him to his show. She wouldn’t have minded - the last show was enjoyable if she deliberately forgot all the drama that had transpired between Eddie and Steve. 

“See you, Eds,” she tested out the nickname, letting it sit on her tongue for only a second before slamming the door shut. He didn’t even have the chance to react or tell her if he liked the nickname, she was already making her way to her front door. 

She noticed the way he didn’t pull off until she was inside, safe and with the door shut and locked. 

“Penny for your thoughts, Jenkins?” Steve pulls Willow from her memory, gaze soft. It reminds her of Eddie’s when she was standing outside his van. 

Willow can’t even formulate a witty response. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, I’m going to start getting rides in the morning from someone else.” 

The moment, the illusion of happiness and normalcy, completely shatters. 

“What? Why? Did I do something? Is it be-”

“Steve, no, you didn’t do anything. It’s out of convenience. I’m still going to catch rides with you and Robin after school if you’ll have me. It’s just… Eddie Munson, we’re partners and share homeroom, and he offered to start-” 

“Didn’t he ditch like, ninety percent of last year?” Steve bitterly interrupts Willow. There’s a twang in her chest of annoyance, of pain and bitterness when she recognizes the asshole attitude is back. 

“ Yes , but if you’d let me finish, you’d know that O’Donnell specifically paired us so I could push him to graduate,” Willow snaps, feeling her own patience run thin, “So, I’ve started to try to be his friend, Steve. You know, like any normal and good person would.” 

“Any normal and good person? No, any normal and good person would privately ask to switch partners and tell off O’Donnell for passing her job onto a student,” Steve bites back. 

“Well, I didn’t,” Willow states this and goes quiet, not knowing what else to tell Steve.

You asked for this, you started fake-dating Eddie Munson to get under his skin exactly. Like. This. 

“No, you didn’t,” she can hear that Steve is giving up. His tone sounds as if maybe, just maybe, he's accepting that the fight against Eddie is hopeless, that there’s no derailing Willow’s attachment to him.

“Listen,” Willow finally starts softly. She’s tired of fighting with Steve. Her entire intention of this mess wasn’t to cause a rift between the two of them, but simply push Steve to admit any feelings he may have. If he had any. With the way things were going, the only feelings Steve had were those of hatred for Eddie. “I don’t want to fight with you. I’m sorry, I know you don’t like Eddie. But he’s not half bad. Give him a chance? Please? Or at least let me give him a chance?” 

Steve is quiet as he stares at her in his passenger seat, any anger and rigidness from the mention of Eddie melting away. “I just want you to be safe.” 

“Eddie wouldn’t hurt me-” 

“I know he wouldn’t, not physically, at least. I saw the way he was always nice to the freshmen, I know he’s not an awful guy most of the time. But I also know you. And I know this won’t be ‘just some project’, and I don’t want you getting your heart broken because you decided to play fixer-upper.” 

Steve’s speech shocks her. She can’t decide which part to focus on - did he just admit that Eddie isn’t an awful guy? Or did he just perfectly play into her ridiculous plan, buying right into the fact that Willow was falling for Eddie Munson after only a few days of knowing him? 

“Steve,” Willow whispers, “I promise, I won’t get my heart broken. And if I do, I’m giving you full reign to say ‘I told you so’.” 

She tries to smile jokingly and watches the corners of Steve’s mouth twitch upward ever so slightly. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m holding you to that, Jenkins,” Steve’s tone is casual now, joking around finally. The tension has passed. “So, when’s my last day of chauffeuring you around?” 

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow morning?” Steve asks, shocked, “Okay, wow. That soon? Alright, I guess. So, after tomorrow, Munson is taking over taxi services?” 

“Just in the morning,” Willow reminds him, hand trailing to the door handle. 

“Just in the morning. Got it. So I still get you in the afternoons,” Steve is nodding along to his words, brows slightly furrowed but tone still airy.

“You still get my afternoons. Unless you ever have something come up. But this way, if something comes up, you don’t have to worry about me or Robin. I’m sure I could guilt-trip him to take her too,” Willow explains, trying to shine a better light on this development. 

“Oh, yes, of course. Eddie the Saint, how could he turn you down?” Steve teases while keeping malice out of his tone. It's an improvement. It's a major improvement. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Willow smiles, and then in a daring moment that even shocks her, she leans over and kisses Steve’s cheek before opening the door and stepping out of his car. “Thank you.” 

“For what?”

“For being my best friend,” she says earnestly. It stuns Steve into silence as he numbly waves, clearly recovering from her kiss. She’d be lying if she said seeing the effect it had on him didn’t turn her giddy. 

She shuts the door and bounds up her driveway, a weight off her shoulders at the fact that she and Steve had managed to not end on bad terms after arguing about Eddie. It was reassuring, something that shined some optimism on the future. Which Willow knew was ridiculous, given that she should be aiming to make Steve so jealous, he can’t contain his cruelty. But Willow liked kind Steve better, the Steve that joked with her and she could kiss the cheek of. 

She’s so wrapped in her thoughts, she doesn’t notice Steve has left her driveway before her key is even in her door to unlock it.

Chapter Text

Acclimation. 

That was the nicest way to describe the next few days. Willow had always been a creature of habit, making friends with like minded people who could handle her intense need to micromanage every aspect of her day to day life. Robin had handled it head on despite being a disaster herself, quickly learning the easiest thing to do was allow Willow to also micromanage her life. Steve wasn’t as compliant, standing his ground for the most part but still making compromises with the aspects that would affect Willow the most. For example, Robin and Steve rarely were ever late picking up Willow for school, always sticking to the exact time they’d promised to show up, or even occasionally a few minutes early. 

The same could not be said for Eddie. 

It was only the second day of him giving her a ride to school, and the day before, he had been ten minutes late. Today, Willow realizes he’s five minutes late (so far). 

“Damn it, Munson,” she mutters to herself. She walks to the bathroom, trying to stop pacing her living room as if that would make Eddie show up any faster. Realistically, she knew that he was probably already driving recklessly, with or without her worry. 

Willow takes a glance over her appearance. Her mascara had already smeared beneath her eyes, and her hair was beginning to frizz from how many times she’d fussed with it due to her nerves of Eddie’s lateness. The red was still vibrant as ever, however. Willow had honestly expected a worse reaction from everyone, including herself, but it was as if she’d never even dyed her hair. Her outfit for the day wasn’t anything outside of her comfort zone, light washed denim shorts paired with a checkered sweater vest. The shades of gray and white of the vest made her hair seem even more vibrant, if possible. 

Suddenly, Willow gathers her hair up into her fist, allowing a few messy strands to fall back into her face before she secures her ponytail with a scrunchie. She doesn’t even glance to see what color the scrunchie was. 

She’s tugging on her hair, attempting to tighten the ponytail and smooth out some of the bumps caused by the waves in her hair, when she hears the screech of Eddie’s tires outside of her house. 

How did he even manage to get his license? 

Willow doesn’t waste any time as she practically jogs to grab her backpack from beside the door. Her hand is on her front door knob when suddenly, an idea hits her. She bites her lip in debate when she hears two honks from outside, Eddie signaling to her he’s here. 

Fuck it . 

She drops her bag back down temporarily before running down the hallway to her room. The leather jacket still sits comfortably on a hanger inside her closet.

For the most part, Eddie and Willow have adhered to their rules. They both agreed they should ease everyone into the idea that they were dating considering Eddie’s reputation. No one would believe that he suddenly managed to pick himself up a girlfriend within the first week of school.

But Willow was feeling her patience run out. 

She knew people were whispering about them when she started to sit beside Eddie in chemistry, one of her few classes without assigned seating. And the whispers had only grown louder when she stepped out of his van yesterday morning. Her association to Eddie was being solidified and putting her on everyone’s radar, much to what instinctually was her dismay. 

But the whispers weren’t enough. Whispers wouldn’t reach Steve’s ears. 

So Willow pulls the leather jacket that technically belongs to Eddie from the closet, pulling it over her shoulders as she runs out her front door, backpack in hand. 

“Hurry up, Red! We’re going to be-” Eddie cuts off his sentence once he’s managed to swing the passenger side door open, still leaned over awkwardly to manage it. 

“What? We’re going to be late? Who’s fault is that?” Willow huffs, tossing her backpack into the floor of the passenger side. She stares at Eddie, waiting for him to sit up so she could take her seat and they could get to school hopefully on time. “Are you going to keep staring, or can I get in the car?” 

At that, Eddie shoots up, almost bumping his head on the roof of the van, “Shit, sorry. I just… sorry, are you finally wearing my jacket?” 

“Yeah. It was your idea to make that part of our terms and conditions, right?” 

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t think you’d actually wear it. At least, not to school ,” Eddie is still staring her down as she lifts herself into the van, buckling up immediately to prepare herself for his driving. 

“Where else would I wear it? To meet the president?” 

Willow is a little concerned when Eddie doesn’t tease her back, still staring. 

“Eddie, close your mouth. You’re about to start drooling,” Willow laughs nervously, hands flying to the frayed edges of her shorts and picking at them,  “What’s wrong with me wearing your jacket? Why is it so surprising?”

“Nothing wrong with it!” Eddie corrects, shaking out his head and hand flying to his gear shift, “Everything’s fine. Let’s just get to school.” 

Willow doesn’t bring the awkward moment back up the entire ride to school, but she does notice that Eddie is still so distracted that he never puts on any music. 

 It’s only once they’re seated in O’Donnell’s class, with a minute to spare before the bell, that Willow speaks up. “So, have you started reading for the project?” 

“Nope,” Eddie does the awful thing where he pops the ‘p’ on the word, and Willow cringes both at his enunciation and his procrastination. 

“Why not?”

“I already told you, Red - I only like adventure books. Little Women is not an adventure book.”

Willow doesn’t even have a chance to continue to argue with him as the bell rings, and O’Donnell’s English class from Hell ensues. She’s lecturing on Greek and Latin roots within modern English language, and Willow is diligently taking notes, pretending she doesn’t feel a tug on her hair halfway through the lesson. 

“Hey, Red,” Eddie whispers, another tug being felt on her ponytail. 

Willow tries to ignore him still. That is, until she feels a sharp jab of his finger on the back of her shoulder. 

“ Red, ” Eddie hisses, almost too loud as it gets the attention of a kid seated to their right. Eddie must make a face, as Willow watches the kid make one right back before his focus is back on the front of the room and not the spectacle Eddie is making out of Willow. 

“What?” she grits out between her teeth, barely turning her head and keeping her eyes on O’Donnell. 

“Are you still coming to Hellfire tonight?” Willow can hardly hear Eddie as he’s lowered his voice, finally being mindful of the students around them. O’Donnell chooses the perfect moment to turn her back to the class, writing out on the chalkboard. 

Willow turns herself more fully to look back at Eddie now, “Seriously? Are you even taking notes?” 

Eddie smiles nervously as he can’t even lie, not even having a pencil out on his desk. “You wouldn’t happen to believe me if I said I have photographic memory, would you, sweetheart?” 

“Jesus Christ,” Willow mutters, turning and facing the front of the classroom once more, eyes glued to O’Donnell to make sure she doesn’t turn back around as she quietly tears an empty page out of her notebook and faces Eddie again, “Take. Notes.” 

“I don’t have a pencil.”

Willow doesn’t hesitate to toss the one in her hand at his chest. Eddie is surprised, unable to block it before it bounces off of him and back onto his desk. “There. Now pay attention, you idiot.” 

This time, she turns around with a finality that Eddie catches onto. He doesn’t bug her again the rest of the class, and Willow is relieved to even hear the sound of pencil on paper from behind her. 

When the bell finally rings, cutting off O’Donnell’s lecture, Willow sighs with relief. She hadn’t even noticed how tense her shoulders had been the entire hour she was in the class until she allowed them to slump, neck aching as she rolled her head around. 

She feels another tug at her ponytail as O’Donnell reminds the class of the progress check she’ll be conducting on Monday for their reading projects. 

“ Stop ,” Willow yanks her head away from what she knows is Eddie’s obnoxious fiddling before continuing, “Messing with my hair. Or I won’t hesitate to ask O’Donnell to move me.” 

“Sorry, it’s just mesmerizing ,” Eddie teases her, holding out her pencil, “Here.” 

“Didn’t you say you don’t have a pencil?” Willow questions, making no move to grab it.

Eddie only shrugs in response, shaking the pencil as he holds it out even closer to Willow.

“No, keep it. Take notes for once.” 

“You said you were going to just do my homework, not haggle me to be studious.” 

“I don’t take the same classes as you, Eddie,” Willow sighs and stands, ready to head over to her Spanish class, “I need something to work with. Just try . Who knows, you might even learn something.”

Eddie is still grumbling while holding Willow’s pencil as she walks away with a small wave, not wanting to risk being late. 

She can hear feel eyes on her as she rushes through the hallway to Ms. Thompson’s classroom. People are taking second glances at her, turning and whispering to their friends. Willow was sure everyone was aware by now that she had gotten a ride once again from Eddie, but the leather jacket was gasoline on the fire. There was nowhere on the jacket that said it was Eddie’s, but it didn’t take a genius to connect the dots. The girls that sit behind her in Spanish are whispering a bit too loud when she gets to her second class of the day, and she can hear their conversation with ease. 

“What’s her name again?”

“Isn’t that the freak’s jacket? Why is she wearing it?”

“Do you think she’s dating him?” 

Willow shuts it all out, not letting it get to her. The entire thing is fake - she’s indifferent to the school’s reaction, considering nothing about this is real . But it does make her heart clench to imagine if Eddie did get an actual girlfriend, just how much backlash she would receive and how much it would strain a relationship for him. Her mood by the end of class is buried somewhere six feet under as she thinks too much about this rather than focusing on how to say she saw a movie in the past tense in Spanish. 

After class, Willow stops by her locker, grabbing her chemistry book quickly. She’s so busy searching for the notebook to accompany it that she doesn’t notice Jason Carver coming up beside her. 

“So, you’re the one everyone’s talking about,” he muses loudly, causing Willow to jump as he’s suddenly leaning against the locker next to hers. 

“What?” 

“You’re the girl wearing the freak’s jacket,” Jason rephrases, reaching out and pinching at the leather. Willow fights the urge to jerk away. 

“How do you know this is Eddie’s?” She makes a point to use his name rather than the crude nickname the entire school had coined for him. 

“Besides the fact that it reeks of cigarettes, just like he does?” Jason scrunches up his nose in disgust for emphasis, “I’ve seen you getting out of his van two mornings in a row, now.” 

Willow’s stomach is tied in knots. “Yeah, he’s been giving me rides to school.” 

“Didn’t you used to get rides from Harrington?” 

“ Used to ,” Willow stresses, finally closing her locker after grabbing just a random notebook. She’d worry if she’d actually grabbed her chemistry notebook once she was in class and away from Jason Carver. For now, she musters all the courage she can as she asks, “What’s it to you, anyways, Carver?” 

“Honestly? Nothing, it’s not my grave being dug. But can I give you a word of advice?” Jason is leaning in closer, and his smile suffocates Willow in the worst possible way, “Stay away from the freak. You’ve always been a good kid, staying out of the way, getting good grades from what I hear. Don’t fuck it all up for that cult leader.” 

Willow doesn’t hesitate to defend Eddie. “He’s not a cult leader, though.” 

“Oh, haven’t you heard?” 

“Heard what ?” Willow hears the warning bell ring, and she’s about ten seconds away from punching Jason. Social anxiety be damned. 

“Rumor has it he sacrificed a girl last year in the woods. Pretty sure the week before she went missing, she was seen getting cozy with him in class.” 

Willow knew this rumor well. Cassie Langdon. She had moved away to Florida. “She wasn’t ‘ getting cozy ’ with him, she let him borrow a pen and laughed at a joke he said. She just moved away, that’s all .” 

She watches as Jason’s face hardens, clearly getting irritated at how much Willow is talking back. She’s sure his original plan was to just scare her out of her budding friendship with Eddie, to continue secluding him. The fact that it wasn’t working and that Willow was defending him with such ease was only pissing him off. 

“Listen, I know you’re not stupid, so I’ll cut the shit. If you’re friends with the freak, you get the freak treatment. And if you’re dating the freak, well…” Jason trails off, and that awful smile was still on his face. It was painfully fake. 

Willow should think over her next words more. She should be wiser about this, make a conscious effort not to immediately get onto Jason Carver’s bad side when she’s just barely entered his radar. 

But she can’t help it. 

“I know what I’ve gotten myself into, Carver. Fuck off.” 

She walks away from him before he can truly process her words. She doesn’t have to look behind her to know that he’s pissed, that she’s just set herself up for a miserable year. Even once her entire fake-dating ordeal with Eddie ends, she’s sure to have just earned a permanent spot on Jason’s shit list. Her name is probably written in red, right under Eddie Munson’s. 

The tardy bell rings when Willow is just a few strides from the door, and she’s never been happier that she has Mr. Edwards as her teacher. He’s lenient - at most, he spares her a disapproving look when she swings the door open. 

She quickly mutters an apology as she makes her way to the far right corner of the classroom. Eddie is grinning as he moves his backpack out of the chair beside him, clearly having saved the seat as if anyone else was going to want to sit beside him. 

“Hey there, doll,” he greets her as she throws herself down into the chair rather dramatically. 

“I just- hold on, what did you just call me?” Willow is about to inform him of her confrontation with Jason, but is caught off guard by the new nickname. 

“Doll?” 

“What happened to Red?” 

Eddie smirks. “I thought you didn’t like me calling you Red?” 

Willow is too prideful to admit that she actually had grown to like the nickname over the last week. Something about it had formed an endearment between Eddie and herself. 

“Whatever,” she finally groans, glancing at the front of the room where Mr. Edwards was clearly setting up to just show a video for the class, “I was saying that I just saw Jason in the hallway and may or may not be on his shit list now.” 

“Jason Carver?” Eddie’s eyes are wide, his body fully turned to face Willow as his face begins twisting with concern. 

“No, Jason Vorhees,” Willow deadpans, but she can see Eddie is actually racking his brain for someone by that name at the school so she quickly backtracks, “Yes, Jason Carver, you idiot.” 

Eddie looks relieved for a moment, probably glad that it didn’t matter that he didn’t know who Jason Vorhees was, before the concern has flooded back over his features, “What the hell did you do to get on golden boy’s radar?” 

“A couple things. I mean, technically, I got on his radar because you drove me to school the last two days. But then, I’m wearing your jacket, and I guess you having friends bugs Jason-”

“Friends? I don’t think he thinks we’re just friend-”

“Unimportant. Let me finish. Anyways, I may have told him to fuck off while defending you. So…” Willow finally sucks in a breath and glances down at the notebook she grabbed, “And I grabbed my English notebook instead of my Chemistry notebook. Awesome . Great.” 

“Hey,” Eddie watches Willow lean over, placing her forehead on their table and groaning, “That’s fine. It’s all good, Edwards said he’s just playing safety instructional videos for us to prep us to start labs on Monday. You don’t need your notebook.” 

Willow is still face down against the table, fighting back letting out another defeated groan, when she can suddenly feel Eddie’s warm hand on her back. His touch must be light as a feather considering she hardly feels it, especially through the thick leather of his jacket, but it’s there - warm and comforting, and she can almost make out his thumb rubbing small arches, as if he’s trying to make her feel better. 

It makes her heart jump to her throat. 

She sits up straight so suddenly it even catches Eddie off guard, and his hand drops back down to his own lap. 

“Sorry,” he immediately begins to apologize, clearly ready to be scolded for touching her, but Willow shakes her head.

“Don’t, it was fine. I just… I remembered I never answered your question earlier,” Willow saves herself, impressed with the minimal stuttering she manages while lying. 

Technically, not lying, she thinks. Technically, just omitting the truth, which is that it was actually really nice.

“My question? What ques- Oh . Shit, yeah! Hellfire! Are you coming tonight?” Eddie goes through his realization, lighting up at the reminder of his club meeting after school. 

Willow hears Edwards turn on the safety videos, and immediately drops her voice to a whisper, having to lean in closer so Eddie can hear her, “Yeah, I mean, some idiot wrote it into our terms and conditions so I have to,” Eddie opens his mouth to interrupt, but she doesn’t give him the chance, “I do need to swing by my house after school… if that’s okay?” 

“That’s fine, I have to swing by my trailer anyways and pick up the shirts I made for the new little sheeps,” Eddie shrugs, laying back in his seat with his arms crossed. He’s staring at Willow, making a blush breakout on her neck. She’s thankful as Edwards turns out the classroom lights. 

“Cool,” Willow nods, feeling her ponytail swing, “Do you think you’ll be able to give me a ride back to school? Like, on your way back with those shirts? If not, I get it, I can wa-”

“I’ll pick you up,” Eddie interrupts, “I’m not letting my girl, real or not, walk to an event I invited her to.” 

My girl. 

Willow had never been referred to as someone’s girl. Most of her life, she had been convinced that the day someone did refer to her as such, if the day ever came, she would be offended; Willow had always seen herself as someone too independent to be simplified down to someone’s property. 

But hearing the words fall from Eddie’s mouth, it hit her that it wasn’t about owning her. He was using them as a form of endearment. And she knew if she asked, he’d never utter those words again, fake relationship or not. 

She can only smile in return to him before turning to look at the screen. She had already read some of the introductions in her chemistry book, including the chapter on lab safety, and knew everything was common sense. 

If anyone should be paying attention right now, it’s Eddie. 

And he isn’t. She knows that he isn’t the minute she feels a tug on her ponytail. She opens her mouth, about to scold him and make him focus on the screen, when he takes it a step further - he pulls her scrunchie out. 

“ Hey !” she sharply whispers, and she can see Chrissy Cunningham turn slightly to look at them. She flashes an apologetic smile before turning her entire body to face Eddie, annoyed beyond belief when she finds him with a dopey smile and her scrunchie around his wrist, “Give that back.” 

“No.”

“Seriously, give it back.” 

“Seriously, no.” 

Willow opens her mouth to repeat herself a third time before snapping it shut, glaring at Eddie. She now had sight of the scrunchie she’d blindly thrown her hair up with, and realized it was one of her favorites - a soft golden yellow one made of velvet material. 

“Eddie, I’m giving you three seconds to-” 

“Nope. Go ahead, count to three.”

Willow is embarrassed at how whiny her voice becomes in frustration, “Give it back, asshole.” 

“What’s the magic word?” Eddie teases her, fingers pinching some of the material of the scrunchie and rubbing it. She’s familiar with the motion, sometimes doing it herself when she wears it around her wrist. 

“Please?” Willow is sick with disappointment for herself as she flutters her lashes, trying to muster what hopefully appears as puppy dog eyes. She even pouts her lips a bit. 

Eddie jokingly strokes his chin is faux thought before shaking his head, “Mm, good guess, but no. It was halfling . Better luck next time!” 

“What the hell is a halfling?” Willow grumbles, making a pathetic attempt to grab at Eddie’s wrist. He catches her easily with the hand that isn’t adorn with her favorite scrunchie. 

“Slang for a hobbit.”

“What’s a hobbit?” 

“Wow, and they say I’m the dumb one?” Eddie questions, making his face scrunch up into a fake look of disgust, “I can’t believe I agreed to fake-date someone who not only doesn’t listen to metal, but knows nothing about Lord of the Rings lore.” 

“You’re right, let’s fake break-up. That means giving me my scrunchie back,” Willow holds out an expectant hand, and Eddie just crosses his arms, safely tucking the scrunchie out of her sight. 

“Okay, give me back my jacket.” 

The leather is suddenly heavy on her shoulders. Willow had completely forgotten the particularly comfortable article of clothing belonged to Eddie. 

She doesn’t have to muster an answer, the look on her face at the prospect of taking off the jacket is all the answer Eddie needs, “Didn’t think so.” 

“Why do you even need my scrunchie?” Willow questions, giving up and sitting back into her seat, attempting to get more comfortable. She accepted defeat for now, knowing that as long as she had Eddie’s jacket, she could hold it over his head for her scrunchie. \

“I like your hair better down.” 

“And?”

“That’s all. Plus, it’s only fair. You’ve got my jacket on, and now I’ve got your scrunchie on. Keeps the ladies away,” Eddie’s tone is self-satisfied, and she can see his playful smirk out of the corner of the way.

“Right, because you couldn’t try the old-fashioned way of beating them off with a stick?” 

Eddie snorts loudly at this, earning himself a glare from Edwards. “Pay attention, Mr. Munson.” 

“Yes, sir,” Eddie calls back, unable to wipe the grin off his face. 

Willow is fiddling with the zipper of Eddie’s jacket now, mind suddenly unable to focus on anything but the ashen scent of cigarettes on the jacket. His logic is sticking in her brain as well - he wanted a way to show he was ‘hers’. It made sense. It was the same reason she’d pulled on his jacket before leaving the house, even with them being late. 

She convinces herself that Eddie was just trying to help, to continue along with their plan. There was no other reason. There couldn’t be. 

She uses that same logic when Eddie drapes his arm across the back of her chair for the rest of class, fingertips barely brushing her leather-clad right shoulder, careful to not touch her too much.

Chapter Text

“ The phone rings, in the middle of the night, my father yells ‘what you gonna do with your life?’. Oh, daddy dear, you know you’re still number one, but girls, they wanna have fun!” 

Willow is in the shower, singing along loudly and off-key to her portable radio Robin had gotten for her last Christmas, using her shampoo bottle as a makeshift microphone, when the banging on her front door started. 

She almost thought it was part of the song at first, until the doorbell started ringing right along with the pounding. 

Willow’s hand immediately shot out and turned the water off, holding her breath as she listened. 

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Whoever was at her door was still knocking furiously. 

Maybe it’s Robin, she thinks, considering that her friends had just dropped her off ten minutes before. Maybe I just left something in Steve’s car. 

With this in mind, Willow makes the catastrophic decision to only wear her towels out to answer the door, a smaller one wrapped around her hair while the larger one is wrapped around her body. 

“This better be important,” she mutters to herself as she takes care to not slip on her way down the hall. 

The banging is only intensifying with each passing second as Willow approaches the door. 

“Robin, I swear to God, nothing I left in Steve’s car could be this import-” Willow swings open the door and cuts herself off immediately, “ Eddie , what the fuck ?” 

Eddie completely disregards her, shoving himself past her and into her living room. 

“Hey, what the hell are you do-”

“I fucked up,” Eddie interrupts, tugging his hands through his hair, “I fucked up royally.” 

“You fucked up?” Willow is immediately confused, worried as well, but mostly confused, “How did you fuck up?” 

“I fucked up. Christ, I was an idiot,” Eddie finally pauses his pacing, eyes trailing over Willow before realizing she was only in her towel. His hand immediately reaches up and slaps across his eyes, “Are you naked?” 

“Well, I… yeah. I-I was in the shower to get ready for your stupid meeting. I thought you were R-Robin,” Willow explains herself through her nervous stuttering as she grips onto her towel even tighter, turning and closing her front door. Her knuckles have gone white from the grip she has on the fluffy cotton – on the one thing between her boobs and Eddie Munson’s peeping eyes. 

“Shucks,” Eddie starts to grin behind his hand, “Going through all that just for a bunch of freaks?” 

“I-” Willow can’t even begin to defend herself, or entertain him with banter, “Eddie, what do you mean when you say you fucked up? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” her worry starts to gnaw at her stomach as she looks over him for any sign of injury: no bruised knuckles, no black eyes (from what she can see), no busted lips. There’s not a physical clue on Eddie Munson that would explain why he just stormed into her house.

“Don’t worry, Red. I’m fine, I swear,” he mockingly holds up the hand that isn’t covering his eyes, “At least, for now, I am.” 

“For now? Jesus Christ, did someone follow you here? Should I expect Jason Carver to come banging on my door next?” Willow turns and locks her front door for emphasis, only half joking. The reminder that she’s currently in just a towel hits her once more, “Hold on. Just… just wait here, please? Let me go get dressed.”

Even though Eddie has respected her modesty by keeping his eyes covered, Willow is burning with embarrassment as she tightens the towel even more, cutting off circulation around her ribs. 

“Wait!” Eddie stops her, letting his hand drop but immediately looking upwards, “It’s important, you need to know something before we go to Hellfire.” 

It’s not the best moment to notice, but Willow’s eyes catch that Eddie still has her scrunchie on his wrist. “Wait, is Jason actually about to break down my door?” 

“What? No,” Eddie shakes his head, eyes still memorizing her home’s popcorn ceiling.

“But it’s so important you can’t wait to tell me until I’m dressed?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, then what is it?” 

“I told my friends about us.” 

Willow is ready to start seething, standing there practically naked as Eddie refuses to look at her. “Jesus Christ, I’m getting dressed,” she finally says with certainty, turning her back on Eddie. 

“Listen, no, hold on,” she can hear Eddie start to trail behind her. She picks up her pace and once she gets to her room, she slams the door in his face. She can barely hear his muffled voice as he says, “Rude.” 

“Just tell me through the door, idiot!” she calls out as she starts to open her drawers, pulling out underwear and a bra. 

“Okay, so, at lunch, my friends noticed your scrunchie-” 

“Wasn’t that the point of you taking it?” 

“Well, yes, but listen-” 

“I’m still not understanding where you ‘fucked up’!” Willow grabs a dark red shirt from her closet with a faux knitted pattern, struggling to pull it on over her hair that was still tangled up into a towel. 

“I’m getting there. Jesus Christ, patience is virtue, Red,” Eddie yells back, and she decides to stay quiet, giving him the chance to explain, “They started grilling me on us. Freaking out over me having a girlfriend and shit. So I panicked. I lied and told them we’d been dating since this summer.” 

Willow has barely buttoned up her jeans when he says this, and she realizes now what he had meant – he had fucked up. 

“We didn’t even know each other this summer,” she says slowly for emphasis as she pulls the towel on her head off and tosses it onto her bed, wet hair dripping onto her shoulders as she starts to make her way to the door. 

“Yeah, I’m aware. But I just - Fuck, I panicked, okay? And I made up this elaborate story about how we met at Scoops and may have said that we were dating as early as the day I actually came into Scoops and we actually met for the first time-” 

Willow interrupts him by swinging open her door, staring him down with bridled anger. “Wasn’t your friend Garth there that day?” 

“Garth? Who th- Do you mean Gareth ?” Eddie is smiling despite the entire situation being the exact opposite of amusing to Willow. 

“Garth, I heard you call him Garth,” Willow insists. 

Eddie shakes his head, his stupid grin only growing. “Red, I think you need to get your hearing checked. My friend’s name is Gareth .” 

“Okay, whatever . Your friend Gareth was there. He would have known that we did not act like a boyfriend and girlfriend. We didn’t even act like we knew each other, in a friendly way or an intimate way or in any way,” Willow can feel her panic bubble up. This was it - they had just barely started their entire fake-dating scheme and now, they would be taken down and exposed by Eddie’s troupe of nerds of all people. 

“That’s the thing, Red. He did. He said you were staring me down, pulled a whole ‘ I-fucking-knew-it!’ moment and everything,” Eddie smiles sheepishly, reaching up to rub the back of his neck, “So I sort of made a mess claiming we were just keeping the relationship secret for a while.” 

“Okay,” Willow nods slowly, trying to bring her panic down, ignoring the comment on how she had been staring at Eddie that day; Robin had said the same thing. “Okay, we can deal with this. We’re already liars, what’s a few more little white ones?” 

“So… you’re not pissed?” Eddie asks, seeming nervous. 

“What? No, I’m not pissed.” 

“Really? You’re not ready to put me in my early grave? I kind of deserve it,” Eddie presses even further, and Willow continues to stare at him in confusion.

Willow squints, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning into the frame of her doorway as Eddie continues to cower in front of her, “Why would I be pissed, Eddie? Is there something more you’re not telling me?” 

“I dunno,” Eddie shrugs, “I just assumed considering it sort of feels like you’re driving this whole fake-relationship bus – which is fine! I mean, I’m fully okay with you calling the shots I just-”

“Relationships, fake or not, go both ways,” Willow reminds him. 

“I’m aware of that!”

“Okay, you just sounded like you weren’t,” Willow is still unconvinced as she stands up from leaning against her door frame, moving to walk past Eddie and back towards her bathroom. 

Her stereo is still playing. 

“Obviously I knew that relationships go two-ways, I’m not a clueless idio- Oh my God, were you listening to Cyndi Lauper?” Eddie is following behind her as she makes her way into the bathroom, stopping at the threshold as he recognizes the music that’s playing before she jams her finger onto the power button. 

“No.”

“Yes, you were. What, you sing in the shower?”

“How do you know Cyndi Lauper? I thought you strictly listened to Metallica,” Willow desperately tries to change the subject by being snappy as she digs out a comb for her hair. 

Eddie throws his head back in laughter, “I listen to more than just Metallica, Red. I mean,” he pauses, and she glances over to see him motioning over his outfit currently. More specifically, his fingers are grazing some of the buttons and patches on his levi vest. She doesn’t recognize a single band, “I just prefer metal. Who wouldn’t?” 

“I don’t,” she reminds him, setting her comb down before walking over to get a closer look at the vest. She also finally notices the shirt he wears beneath the vest: a white baseball tee with black sleeves, a small graphic of a devil face and the words Hellfire Club printed around it. 

She doesn’t realize she’s reaching up to trace her finger gently over one of his pins until he speaks up, “That one’s for the band Wasp. You a secret fan or something?” 

She knows he’s trying to joke around, but she shakes her head in complete seriousness. “No, are they like Metallica? Or heavier?” 

For a second, everything freezes. Willow’s finger lingers as she not only watches Eddie’s chest rise and fall, but feels it beneath the pad of her finger as well. They’re both completely silent as Willow keeps her touch especially delicate, giving this moment the space to find its place between them. She hadn’t realized just how close she had not only gotten to him, but how close he had allowed her to get. There were no protests on his lips as she took up his personal space without permission. She’s close enough she can smell his breath with each exhale, particularly minty as if he’d recently brushed his teeth, and she notices he doesn’t reek of cigarettes as per usual. The random yet curious thought of when he’d last smoked crosses her mind, but she pushes it off as she finally looks up to him, catching him already staring down at her through heavy lashes. 

“Heavier. Pretty kick ass, honestly,” Eddie has clearly caught onto Willow’s sincerity, his joking tone completely vanishes as they maintain eye contact, “I think they might be a bit vulgar for your taste, though.” 

“Not that again,” Willow rolls her eyes as the moment breaks, hand falling back to her side and no longer invading Eddie’s personal space, “My taste isn’t that bad.”

“You listen to Cyndi Lauper in the shower, Red!”

“What’s wrong with Cyndi?”

“Nothing!” Eddie’s voice cracks with laughter before he adds, “At least, not for nice girls like you.” 

Willow fakes extreme offense, picking up her comb and pointing it as threateningly as possible at Eddie, “I am not a nice girl.” 

Eddie can only cackle as Willow tries to produce a menacing look, knowing she probably looks more constipated than scary. “Yes, you are. Very nice. It’s the whole reason why you need to hurry up and get ready - all my friends are actually convinced you’re too nice for me.” 

“Funny,” Willow turns towards the mirror, taking his subtle push to hurry up her process with a grain of salt as she slowly combs her hair, “My friends say the same thing.” 

“That I’m too nice for you ? What the hell are Buckley and Harrington on ?” 

It’s Willow’s turn to cackle, “No, you idiot. That I’m too nice for you.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah. That makes more sense,” Eddie finally leaves the entrance of the bathroom and steps forward, closer to Willow. He leans against the sink counter with his back to the mirror so he can continue to face her as he crosses his arms. Now he’s the one invading her personal space. But Willow decidingly mimics his earlier reaction; she stays quiet as she grabs her mascara off the counter. 

Willow pumps her mascara a few times, noting that it’s almost empty, before looking at an oddly silent Eddie. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“No reason,” Eddie shrugs, looking down briefly before looking back up at her with a playful look in his eyes, corners of his mouth twitching, “Just wondering what your favorite Cyndi Lauper song is.”

“Oh, fuck off, ” Willow curses, leaning forward and angrily swiping on her mascara. 

“It’s ‘ Good Girls Just Want to Have Fun’, isn’t it?” 

Eddie doesn’t seem phased by the streak of black left across his cheek when Willow immediately angrily flicks her mascara wand at him out of annoyance, his hands thrown up weakly in self-defense as he laughs so hard he begins to double over. 

Any onlooker would only be able to hear his laughter, melodic as Willow shouts more curses at him, somewhere along calling him annoying with no conviction before throwing a hand out to smack his shoulder for good measure when he won’t stop laughing at her. They’d see her failing at suppressing her own smile and giggles as her hand initially misses before she finally catches sight of the mascara wand now caught in Eddie’s messy hair, her laughter finally overflowing out of her.

Finally, Eddie begins to gasp out apologies, still laughing even when Willow’s palm makes contact, more-so trying to keep him still as her other hand grabs for the wand, dangling comically. It’s no use, Eddie still bent at his waist from the force of his laughter. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry !” 

The hallway continues to echo with their happiness the rest of the time Willow spends getting ready.

---

“Slow down ,” Willow whines, trying to keep up with Eddie’s quick pace. It didn’t help that his legs were definitely longer than hers. 

“We’re gonna be late,” is all he huffs as he turns another corner. 

He has his backpack slung over his left shoulder, the side opposite of where Willow had been walking beside him. But the moment they entered the school, the boy had taken off. 

“Eddie, didn’t you say you’re the president of the club? They can’t start without you,” she’s starting to lose her breath, legs aching from the fast pace. Realistically, she understood his rush and knew it would probably look bad on his part if he was late to the first meeting of the school year. That didn’t deter her from complaining. It was his fault to begin with; he had endlessly distracted her while she tried getting ready.

“Here,” he says suddenly, throwing out his right hand in her direction. She stares at it for a moment as if it’s a foreign object, something she’s never seen before. He throws it around in the air as he slows down a bit and she nearly collides with it. “ Here ,” he stresses again, finally grabbing her hand when she continues to stare at him. 

It takes her by surprise; she wasn’t expecting to hold hands with him, especially not when they’re still alone in the hallway for now. 

“What-” she quickly realizes why he’s done it – he’s practically dragging her up to his pace now that their fingers are interlocked. 

She decides to just go with it, noting that his warm palm against hers did feel pretty nice. 

“Okay, so, when we walk in, I’ll make sure to introduce you to everyone. But obviously, you’re not playing – unless you want to play? Do you want to play?” Eddie starts to ramble, not even sounding the slightest bit out of breath, the opposite way Willow felt. 

“Not really,” she gasps, tripping over herself slightly. Eddie’s hand in hers grips tighter and steadies her. He offers a glance to his side at her, as if checking that she’s fine – all she can do is nod in embarrassment. 

“Okay, cool. So the original plan is still good: I’ll have you sit off to the side but next to me still, and if you need anything, you just let me know, okay?” 

“What if you guys are in the middle of the game?” 

“Don’t care. If it’s important, interrupt. But if it isn’t important, I’d obviously appreciate you waiting,” Eddie finally slows down as they round a final corner, and Willow can see the door to one of the drama rooms propped open. She hears a couple of voices laughing as well. 

“Got it. Only interrupt if I need something important,” Willow smiles at Eddie, nodding hard, “I think I can manage that.” 

“Also, I told them our first date was at the Hideout, you came to watch my show after I invited you when we ran into each other at Scoops. Spent the night drinking, getting to know each other, blah, blah, blah,” Eddie fills in all the gaps of knowledge that Willow needs to know. At this sentence, she glances down at his wrist, the one connected to the hand holding hers; he’s still wearing her scrunchie. And his jacket still hangs heavy on her shoulders, although his scent was slowly wearing off. 

She might insist he take it back for a few days before she borrows it again. She sort of misses the smell. 

“Got it, captain,” she teases, using her free hand to mockingly salute him. He rolls his eyes at her as they stop just outside of the door, “Now, we ready to do this, Munson?”

Eddie doesn’t respond immediately, instead sighing as he looks into her eyes. It makes her knees feel weak, the way he’s staring right into her eyes as if he’s seeking out comfort from her - as if he’s as nervous as she is. 

This was it. They hadn’t particularly put on a show for anyone so far. As a matter of fact, in the week they’d been ‘fake-dating’, it hadn’t felt as though anything had changed - they didn’t go on any public dates, they weren’t walking each other to class, they still sat separate at lunch, they hadn’t been holding hands (until tonight ), and they hadn’t even entertained the idea of kissing. As far as the school knew, the most grandiose show of their connection had been Willow wearing Eddie’s jacket. And even that wasn’t very damning; Willow never confirmed it was Eddie’s. 

Hawkins High had spent the week simply thinking that Eddie Munson had somehow convinced Willow Jenkins to be his friend. Or maybe they thought he had blackmailed her into it. Willow wasn’t sure, she hadn’t paid any mind to the rumors swirling about them. 

Tonight is the first night they’re entering a room full of people who believe that they are boyfriend and girlfriend - and that they have been for at least a month. 

Willow finally squeezes Eddie’s hand twice in attempted consolation, putting on her nicest smile, just for him. They still had a few moments before this was real, before their plan was official. If they wanted, they could turn and run. Willow could leave and Eddie could tell his friends he had just been joking.

The squeezing of Willow’s hand in Eddie’s brings him back down to earth, finally replying, “As I’ll ever be. Let’s do this, Red.” 

Willow honestly doesn’t think there’s been a day in her life she’s felt this invincible, walking into a stuffy theater room at Eddie’s side, her hand strangely finding home and solace in his. 

All six members of Hellfire Club have immediately fallen silent the moment they walk in, all turned to face Willow and Eddie as he greets them with a tone of arrogance Willow has yet to hear, “Hello, gentlemen.” 

Willow lets her eyes wander over unfamiliar faces. She recognizes Gareth from Scoops, and Jeff from outside the gym, but beyond that, she’s never made contact with any of the wide eyes staring back at her. It’s reassuring. Maybe, Willow and Eddie can keep his mistake within his circle. Maybe, the rumor of them having started dating in the summer can be snuffed out right here, right now. And that means that maybe, just maybe, Steve Harrington will never find out-

Fuck.

The last set of eyes that Willow meets drains all the confidence from her body. 

Jesus fucking Christ. There’s no way, there’s no fucking way . My luck cannot possibly be this bad- 

“Willow?” the voice calls out, clearly remembering her from that day at Scoops. The goddamn day that would be haunting Willow the rest of her life, she’s sure. 

Sitting at the table, eyes wide with sudden excitement and recognition, is Steve Harrington’s golden child. The one he spent the entire summer bragging about to Willow. The one he probably sees on a more regular basis than he sees Willow or Robin. The one that will probably be the reason Steve finds out about Eddie’s royal fuck up of a lie, not out of malice, but because she knows that this kid tells Steve everything . 

“Dustin?”

Chapter Text

When Eddie had said he ‘fucked up’, she had agreed, but only to a certain extent. At the time, his ‘fuck up’ had seemed more like a small bump in the road, something unexpected but something they could navigate. Willow wasn’t particularly upset if Eddie’s D&D club believed they had been dating over the summer because she was under the impression it wouldn’t have any effect on her part of the plan - Steve. She hadn’t realized how wrong she was until she saw just who entailed the Hellfire club.

There, sitting with a wide and toothy grin, was Dustin fucking Henderson. Steve Harrington’s golden child. Yet another witness to the Scoops Ahoy incident, and a direct line of contact to Steve.

Willow hadn’t realized how tightly she was squeezing Eddie’s hand once she caught sight of Dustin until Eddie subtly bumped shoulders with her, looking at her curiously. There’s a silent communication in his stare, clearing wanting to know if she was okay.

All she could do was swallow hard.

Oh my God. No. No, he didn’t possibly fuck up this badly. Mother fucker. Son of a bitch.

A continuous string of curses cycle through Willow’s head as Eddie finally reacts.

“Wha- How do you know my girlfriend, Henderson?” Eddie’s hair shakes as he looks between Dustin and Willow, the latter silent in shock while Dustin has a look of pure and unbridled excitement. 

“You’re friends with Steve, right?” Dustin ignores Eddie subtly, directing his question to Willow.

“You know Steve?” The boy on Dustin’s left interrupts, suddenly leaning forward with a look of pure confusion. Willow thinks she recognizes his black hair and thin frame, but can’t be sure. 

“Obviously, Mike. I mean, didn’t Dustin just say that?” the boy to Dustin’s right snaps back at Mike. 

Oh my God. Mike. Mike Wheeler. Nancy Wheeler’s little brother. 

“I,” Willow is overwhelmed, at a loss for words as Dustin is looking at her expectantly with kind eyes and jittering hands, “Y-Yeah. I’m friends with Steve and Robin.” 

This is not good, at all . Willow is immediately overcome with the anxiety of what this means for her and Eddie and their ridiculous fake-dating ordeal. She had only just gotten to the point where Eddie’s name didn’t trigger a fight between herself and Steve immediately, and even then, she could tell it was a sore topic for Steve. He’d clearly accepted that she was friends with Eddie as the week ended, but he didn’t want to hear about it, or be reminded about it in any way. Just this afternoon, seeing her in Eddie’s jacket had almost triggered an argument. 

“Jesus, why do you still have that thing?” Steve complained as Willow slid into his passenger seat. 

“What thing?” 

“The jacket. Munson’s jacket.” 

“Oh,” Willow hadn’t even considered that Steve would have such a negative reaction, though it should have been an obvious part of the backlash she’d received for the day, “I just didn’t want to get cold during class.” 

“But out of all the jackets? You couldn’t have worn any of your cardigans? Like what about that one your mom got you, with the flowers on it-” 

“It was dirty,” Willow interrupted Steve, flashing a smile before she reached over to pinch his cheeks, “Is someone jealous? If you had a better sense of fashion, I would steal your jackets too, you know.” 

Robin snorted, clearly picking up that Willow was exaggerating. She needed to get back to normal with Steve, which meant teasing him, getting under his skin, annoying him. 

Steve scoffed as he shifted his car into drive, “I’ll have you know my sense of fashion is just fine , Jenkins.” 

Willow pushes away the memory of the afternoon as she looks over the three kids.

“I knew it! You were there at Scoops Ahoy when I got back from camp, weren’t you?” As Dustin says this, Willow watches Eddie tense in realization as to why she reacted to the sight of Dustin the way she did. 

Yeah, dumbass, she thinks bitterly as if he can hear her thoughts, he was there that day. 

“Yep, that’s me,” Willow admits and accepts her fate. Eddie would be getting an earful after Hellfire. Honestly, he’d be lucky if she didn’t interrupt his meeting every minute out of spite now. She now agreed with his earlier words, that he had indeed royally fucked up instead of this being a minor mess up they could handle as she had reassured him. 

One of the older members suddenly speaks up, “Hold on, you’re a friend of Harrington’s? Munson bagged a Harrington groupie?” 

Willow opens her mouth, hating the nickname she’d already once been called by Eddie, when he interrupts. 

“Don’t call her that, Craig,” Eddie snaps, “Who cares? We’re running late, let’s get to playing so my campaign can kick your asses. Red’s just going to hang out.”

“Red?” Gareth questions the nickname in a whisper while looking over at Jeff, who simply shrugs. 

“She’s not playing?” Dustin pipes up, seeming a little disappointed. 

Willow decides to answer for herself before Eddie can, feeling bad and not wanting him to continue being unnecessarily cruel to the kid who’s begun to resemble a puppy to Willow, “I don’t know how to play.” 

“We could show you! I mean, this is just the first meet-” The boy to Dustin's right begins. His brown eyes are wide with genuine, good intentions. The sort of remind Willow of Eddie's for a moment, before she hears his voice interrupt the poor kid.

“She doesn’t want to, Sinclair,” Eddie probably doesn’t intend to be so cruel in his interruption, but it comes out sharply. His hand finally leaves Willow’s as they reach the opposite end of the table, and he drops his backpack by the only chair that doesn’t look like it belongs in the school. 

Lucas Sinclair . 

All the pieces finally come together for Willow as she’s still staring at the three boys. Her next realization causes a drop in her stomach.

Holy shit. Wait, these kids fought monsters. These are the kids that fought fucking monsters with Robin. 

Just as quickly as she thinks this, Willow remembers her promise to Robin – as far as anyone else was concerned, Robin never told Willow that monsters exist. 

Willow physically shakes her head out, still feeling incredibly out of place. She doesn’t even know where to start, but she immediately feels the need to soften his words against the boys, “Not today, at least. Maybe some other time?” 

Gareth is the one to speak up now, looking shocked. “You? You want to learn D&D?” 

His words aren’t mean, or condescending. He genuinely looks as if she’s telling a five year old that Santa doesn’t exist. 

“Girls don’t play D&D,” Craig pipes up, and Willow doesn’t know if it’s because he called her ‘Harrington’s groupie’, but she’s slowly deciding he’s her least favorite person in the room currently. 

“They can if they want!” Jeff, the final member that Willow hadn’t been properly introduced to, finally joins the conversation. He’s looking at Willow curiously as he introduces himself unnecessarily, “I’m Jeff, by the way.”

Just smile and wave. It’s fine. It’ll all be fine.

Willow waves timidly before Eddie walks around her, grabbing a chair from the dark corner behind her and pulls it so she’s within reaching distance of the odd chair out. 

“M’lady,” he motions for her to sit. She’s hardly audible as she mumbles a ‘thank you’, looking at the chair Eddie had placed his things by with morbid curiosity. 

“Whose seat is that?” she finally asks, looking around at everyone. They all look to be fighting smiles, glancing around at each other as if they think she’s told a bad joke. 

Eddie is the one to fill her in. “That’s my throne , sweetheart.” 

“Throne?” Willow scoffs, about to make fun of Eddie, but stops herself as she takes a closer look at the chair. There’s extensive detail along the back of chair carved out, waves and swirls formulating the very top edge. The cushion is a red velvetine rather than a hard wooden slab, and the legs are knobby in a way that works. The detailing reminds her of Catholic churches, which seems to fit the overall theme of the room well, now that Willow takes a better look around. The boys have several candles and ironic religious imagery placed around. 

No wonder people think they’re a cult .

“What? Don’t think I deserve a throne?” Eddie teases her as if no one else is in the room, falling down onto his throne with a soft thud. Willow can’t help but admire how his hair bounces with this action, the way his face looks lit up but the soft glow of the candles in the room, how sof- 

No. Nope. Don’t. 

Willow reels her thoughts in quickly, forcing a smile, “Oh, no, of course you deserve it. I just think it explains your giant ego problem, baby.” 

She hadn’t called him that before. She’d never referred to him with any of the usual slew of nicknames that girlfriends call their boyfriends. It had always been Munson, or Eddie, or Eds, or dumbass, or idiot. Never babe. Never love. Never baby . 

She’s not the only one who notices her slip of tongue, Eddie’s reaction even worse than hers as he blushes hard enough that she can see it even in the dim lighting of the room. For a moment, it’s just the two of them, no Hellfire, no lies. They’re back in the place where their moments in Willow’s bathroom and back in the hallway were currently residing, something stirring in the air. All there is between them is Eddie’s wide brown eyes staring at her with what she could confuse with affection if she were a fool, and the echo of the name of endearment, of baby , falling from her lips. 

Gareth clears his throat. “Alright, boss, we starting or what?” 

A switch flips within Eddie, and Willow watches as he transforms from Eddie Munson, the idiot who agreed to fake-date her for some impossible reason to Eddie the Banished, Dungeon Master. 

---

“I’m sorry, I’m still confused, why do you have to roll the dice after saying what you’re going to do? Why can’t you just say you’re going to like, kick someone’s ass, and do it?” 

Willow is sitting across from Eddie in a booth at the Denny’s, strawberry shake in front of her as she continues to ask him endless questions about the game she just witnessed. 

She hadn’t expected to be so intrigued. At first, she had pulled out a book from home and figured she’d be reading for the next few hours, possibly even moving onto working on some homework if she got bored of her book. But at some point after the thirty minute mark, the loud arguing and Eddie’s ridiculous voices for each of his made up characters had caught her attention. She only had to look up once before she had suddenly been sucked into the storyline, finding herself invested in the boys’ choices as if she were watching a movie. 

“You can’t just kick someone’s ass, Red. The point of the dice is to see the outcome. Using your example, if you say you want to kick someone’s ass, you’d have to roll to guarantee you have the strength to do it. If you roll too low of a number, you’re the one getting your ass kicked,” Eddie explains, a smile on his face as he continues to be patient with Willow and her shocking curiosity. 

None of the rules really made any sense to her. After watching the game, it made Willow realize she’d probably never be able to take part in a ‘campaign’, as Eddie had called it, although she had enjoyed watching everyone play. It was a situation where it had been boring until suddenly, it wasn’t. 

It was boring until Eddie came along. 

“That’s stupid ,” she stresses as she leans across the table and grabs a fry off of Eddie’s plate. Whereas Willow had been a child, ordering solely to soothe her sweet tooth, Eddie had been smarter; he’d ordered actual food. A cheeseburger and fries, to be precise. 

“Hey!” he reprimands, trying to smack her hand away from his plate. He’s too slow, Willow smirking as she dips the stolen fry into her shake while he continues, “And hate the game, not the player, baby .” 

Willow immediately cringes. “Don’t call me baby.” 

“Why not? That’s what you called me .” 

“Because I already have a nickname, remember?” She takes pleasure in mocking him from that day in English, doing the same rainbow motion with her hands as she tries to mimic his voice, “ Red .” 

“You know, for someone who claims they hated that nickname, you seem pretty insistent that I call you it,” Eddie teases her before his hand suddenly reaches out and grabs her shake. 

She doesn’t have time to complain or react before Eddie brings the straw of her shake to his lips, taking a long sip that drains nearly half the glass.

“Eddie,” she whines, reaching and yanking the glass back to her side, “Seriously? After I sat through your stupid campaign?” 

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it,” Eddie points a threatening finger at her, tilting his head accusingly, “Besides, if I’m paying for this date , I’m getting my money’s worth.” 

“Who said you were paying? Or that this was a date ?” Willow leans back and crosses her arms, playing up her fake pout. She actually didn’t mind Eddie drinking her shake, considering she had probably stolen at least half of his fries or more.  

Eddie chuckles around a bite of burger, “Our contract, sweetheart. Once a week, remember?” 

“I recall…” Willow trails off, finally breaking and leaning forward to take a few more sips of her shake. 

“And I decided I’m paying tonight because I’m feeling chivalrous. Don’t get used to it, Red.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Munson.” 

They fall quiet for a while, Willow preoccupied with the last of her shake as Eddie finishes off his burger. The silence between them isn’t particularly awkward or smothering as Willow would have expected. Instead, it’s nice. There’s a blanket of warmth, of comfort, to the fact that she knows that she doesn’t always have to entertain Eddie. And he doesn’t have to entertain her - at some point, they’d both accepted that the other’s presence was enough. 

“So, you think we were successful?” Eddie breaks the silence first, moving his plate out of the way from between the two of them, resting his hands on the table. 

Willow focuses on his fiddling of his rings, particularly the skull one on his left ring finger, before answering, “I do. But you know that those kids are going to tell Steve all about your little fuck up.” 

“I know,” she sees him swallow hard, clearly feeling bad, “I’m sorry. How do you think he’s going to take it?” 

“Badly,” Willow doesn’t even try to sugarcoat it. She knows that it’s going to cause a fight, and a major one at that, between her and Steve. Her chest is already preemptively aching from the thought. 

Eddie is wordless, moving on from twisting his skull ring to now the sole ring on his right hand. It’s an intricate band that holds a dark, almost black stone, in the center. Willow’s eyes trace over the swirling patterns clearly carved into the band, reminding her of his throne in the D&D room. 

“Do you really think fake-dating me is going to make Harrington admit his feelings?”

Willow isn’t expecting Eddie’s question, eyes shooting up to see his face painted with sincerity. “I… I don’t know. It seems it’s causing more fights between us than anything. I just- can I admit something to you?” Willow pauses, pleading silently with her eyes until Eddie nods reassuringly, “It’s fucked, but a small part of me is enjoying it. And I mean a small part. We’re talking microscopic. Every time I see him get uncomfortable or pissed off when I mention you, I think about all the times I listened to him talk about Nancy and I- I don’t know… I kind of secretly wish he’s feeling the same pain I went through. Does that make me a bad person? That definitely makes me a bad person.” 

Willow feels slightly nauseous at her admission, saying the words out loud making it all too real. She shouldn’t relish in making Steve jealous - it should simply be a means to an end. Steve had just been friendly, confiding in her about Nancy without malice this summer. But what Willow was doing was deliberate . She was doing anything she could to get under his skin, even after seeing how much it bothered him. 

Jesus Christ, she’s an awful friend. 

“I don’t think it makes you a bad person,” Eddie suddenly says, “I mean, if I had to listen to the person I was in love with talk about someone else over and over again, it’d drive me to be pretty damn spiteful too.” 

“I’m not in love with him,” Willow immediately corrects Eddie, but he just laughs. 

“Don’t bullshit me, Red. I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

“Yeah? And how’s that?” 

“Like… Like he’s your favorite boy in the whole wide world ,” Eddie’s nose scrunches as he says this, clearly cringing in exaggeration as Willow lets out a giggle, “I’m serious. You look at Harrington like he can do no wrong. Even when he’s being an absolute asshole. Like he painted the night sky just for you, like he’s the funniest person in every room. It’s sickening , Red. Makes me sick to my stomach just thinking about it.” 

Willow takes the straw of her shake and fiddles with it, drawing circles in the bottom of the now empty cup, “I mean, he is, to me - the funniest person in the room and all that. I know he’s an asshole, and I don’t like having to always defend him, but I know he’s a good person. He’s trying to be better. He is becoming better.” 

“Your faith in him is astonishing,” Eddie scoffs, shaking his head. 

“I just like seeing the good in people,” Willow shrugs, convincing herself this wasn’t something only exclusive to Steve. Her best example was sitting right in front of her, proof that she could find good in anyone , not just Steve Harrington. 

Eddie is smiling so softly, Willow’s chest clenches at first glance. His doe eyes are looking at her with so much admiration, so much respect, it throws her off guard. For once in her life, the roles feel reversed - Eddie Munson is looking at her like he can only see the good in her. She’s never experienced that look, always being the one behind the rose-colored glasses. It makes her dizzy. 

“That you do, Red,” his voice is just as soft as the look on his face. It’s killing her, chipping away at a new hole in her chest. It’s making something stir inside of her that is completely unfamiliar - something she had never come across inside herself in her eighteen years of life.

“We should probably get going,” she forces herself to choke out, trying to look away from the brown eyes currently enrapturing her attention. 

I could stay here all night if he let me. 

It’s a startling thought, one that further solidifies that they should leave. Willow is just tired and Eddie is just nice. That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less. 

“Right,” Eddie moves into action, pulling out his wallet to pay as Willow continues to get lost in her exhausted thoughts. 

The feeling she gets in her chest when he calls her a new nickname. The ache in her gut from how much he makes her laugh. The comfort that washes over her just by being around him. Willow realizes that somehow, completely effortlessly, Eddie had become her friend. Or at the very least, she considered him a friend. She wasn’t sure if the feeling went both ways but God, she hoped it did. 

So she decides that instead of silently brewing in the anxiety, she would put her insecurity to rest with a simple question. “Eddie, are we friends?” 

She catches him off guard as he’s standing from the booth, not waiting for his change as he towers over her with a cheesy smile.

“After I paid for your dinner? We better be best friends.” 

“I’m being serious,” she starts to scoot closer to the edge of the bench she had occupied, noticing that Eddie’s smile doesn’t fall but his brown eyes do soften. 

“Yes, we’re friends, Red,” he assures her, suddenly sticking his hand out to her, “Now, come on. Rumor has it I have to get you home before midnight or you’ll become one of those mean gremlin creatures.” 

There’s no one she knows immediately around them. The Denny’s is nearly empty save for an older man sitting on the other side of the restaurant and a nearby teenage couple a few booths over. But the man looks dead to the world, and the fellow teenagers hadn’t spared Willow and Eddie a single glance. There’s no reason to hold his hand. There’s no audience here for them to continue their act. 

Willow grabs Eddie’s hand anyway, and they mirror grins as their palms meet. 

“Actually, it’s feeding them after midnight that turns them mean,” Willow corrects as she stands, catching on to his movie reference. 

“So? Same thing,” Eddie waves off her correction with his free hand, starting to tug her along at his side towards the doors.

“No, not the same thing. Cinderella is the one who can’t stay out past midnight.” 

“Right, well, whatever you say, princess .” 

Another nickname, another chipping, another stirring. 

Willow lets it go this one time.

Chapter Text

“It’s for you, Willow.” 

Willow looks up from her plate of eggs and toast to see her mom holding out their phone, a peculiar look on her face. It was a rare morning in which they were able to have breakfast together, Anna working a mid shift rather than her regular graveyard. Willow always loved these mornings - catching her mother up on what used to be her fairly boring life over sunny side up eggs and orange juice. Today, she had been more quiet than normal, not knowing how to even begin to broach the topic of her week with her mother. 

“What?” Willow questions, her chair squeaking as she stands up, “Is it Rob?”

Her mom immediately shakes her head. “No, he says he’s your partner from school. His name is Eddie?” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

It was Sunday, and Willow hadn’t heard from Eddie since he dropped her off Saturday night. As a matter of fact, this was the first time he had ever called her since she had taken a sharpie to his arm when they first made their deal.

“Oh, thank you! Sorry,” she rushes to take the phone from her mom, and she’s sure she’ll be interrogated later, but she’s too busy pressing the receiver up to her cheek, “Hey, Eddie?” 

“Red,”  his familiar voice drawls out over the line. 

“Why are you calling? What’s up?” Willow’s eyes flicker to where her mom is now seated back at their small dining table, trying to seem preoccupied with her food even though she’s clearly eavesdropping. Willow turns her back to her. 

“Well, good morning to you too, sunshine,” Eddie jokes, “It’s Sunday.”

“Yes, I’m aware what day it is. Did you just call to be my own personal calendar or…” Willow trails off questioningly, finger twirling the phone chord by habit. 

“No, Red, it’s Sunday . Have you really managed to forget our contract-binded love in under forty-eight hours away from me?” Willow imagines the smirk on Eddie’s face, the feigned offense as he mimicked being stabbed in the chest. She had seen him do it a few times now. 

Willow thinks over it for a second before it clicks. Of course . It was Sunday, the day Eddie had agreed to have their study dates. “Oh my gosh, I really did forget - I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” Eddie assures her, but she can hear his tone drop, “If you already made plans, we can always-”

“I didn’t. I’m free,” Willow interrupts him, finally turning to face her mom once again. Anna is sitting with a surprised face, no longer even attempting to hide her intrigue in her daughter’s conversation. Willow decides to mouth the word ‘studying’ as she watches a million questions pop up onto the tip of her mother’s tongue. 

“Oh! Awesome! So where do we wanna do this thing?” His enthusiasm warms her bones, his voice uncharacteristically high.

“I was thinking neutral ground, like the library? That way neither of us can get distracted,” Willow leans against the wall, hand still twirling the chord. 

She didn’t want to admit to Eddie that she also wasn’t ready to have him back in her house, even if her mom wouldn’t be home the entire time. 

Her mom . 

That was an entirely different obstacle, considering Willow hadn’t even introduced the idea of her fake boyfriend to her mother. She hadn’t even considered being in a fake relationship would mean she had to lie to her own mother. 

“The library?” she can hear the wrinkle of Eddie’s nose, “I mean, I guess. Want me to pick you up?” 

“Please,” she breathes out, hand finally releasing the chord, realizing she needed to start getting ready. 

“Okay, cool, see you in ten?” Eddie asks, and she can hear shuffling on his end. She thinks she can hear the jingling of keys, even. 

“See you in ten,” Willow confirms. It takes her a moment of hesitation before she hangs up, unsure where her reluctance came from.

The moment the phone is hung back up on their wall, her mom breaks out in a smile. 

“You’re going to spend time with a boy today? That isn’t Steve? Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?” She teases her lightly as she stands and takes their dirty dishes to the sink. 

Willow’s cheeks color at the joke, “I hang out with boys besides Steve.”

“Yeah, today you are. I don’t think I’ve even heard you say a boy’s name besides his in the last year, though,” Anna continues as she mindlessly scrubs the dishes. Her back is to her daughter and she doesn’t see the tormenting blush taking over her face. 

Willow racked her brain. She definitely had talked about other guys, right? She goes over every interaction she’s had in the last year (or at least, the ones she can remember), but comes up with mostly only memories with Robin and Steve. Telling her mother about the new flavors at Scoops that were Steve’s favorite, telling her mother about the cheesy joke Steve told her during a lull in her visit, telling her mother how cute Steve looked in his uniform that day. 

Okay. Maybe her mom had a point. 

“What’s his name?” Anna hums over her shoulder, glancing back to see her daughter clearly frustrated. 

Had she really let Steve Harrington become her entire personality this last year? 

“Who?”

“The boy you’re seeing. Is it really Eddie or did you tell him to lie to your poor old mom?” Anna has a clear teasing tone, finally turning and leaning back on the seat, small crinkles form beside her eyes as she smiles. 

“It’s really Eddie, Eddie Munson. I got paired with him in my English class,” Willow explains, crossing her arms and leaning back against the wall to mirror her mother from across the room. 

“Munson? Isn’t he the boy who’s repeated his senior year twice now?” 

“Yeah, he’s a super, super senior. That’s why miss O’Donnell partnered me with him,” Willow is staring off into the distance as she says this, trying to avoid overanalyzing her mother’s reaction to this. She doesn’t know why, but she wants her mom to approve of Eddie, and not just for the sake of their fake relationship. If disgust or judgment of any kind had graced her mother’s face, Willow couldn’t handle it. “How do you know who he is?” 

“The other nurses love to gossip, and if I’m thinking of the same Eddie Munson, he’s quite the troublemaker,” Willow finally looks at her mom as she says this, and Anna is smiling softly. Willow almost jumps from excitement - there’s no judgment in her eyes. 

Willow’s shoulders sag, not in disappointment but relief, “Yeah, you’re definitely thinking of the same Eddie Munson.” 

“He’s a bad boy?” 

“I mean, not really. Sort of? Define bad boy,” Willow rambles, thinking about just how many layers there were to this idiot. Yes, he listens to metal and smokes cigarettes, he wears leather and has wild hair. But he also plays D&D, and reads J.R.R. Tolkien. 

“Define bad boy? Oh sweetheart,” Willow stiffens at her mother’s affectionate nickname, the name now sounding wrong any time it didn’t come from Eddie’s lips, “You’ve got it bad.” 

“What? I don’t-” Willow starts to deny her crush, but then remembers it might be in her best interest to plant that seed, “I just barely met him this week, mom! We’re just studying today and doing our project. It’s nothing.” 

“Mhm, just studying,” her mom pushes off the counter and walks past her. Willow only shakes out of her shock once her mom is halfway down the hallway. 

“God, you’re just as bad as Robin!” she yells down the hallway, and her mom’s laugh echoes in return. 

Fuckers. 

---

“This is so boring ,” Eddie whines, leaning across the table dramatically with his arms outstretched towards Willow. She’s unfazed, continuing to scribble down the answers to her math homework. 

“What page are you on?” she questions, still not looking up as she refers to her copy of Little Women he’s been scanning over the last thirty minutes. 

Eddie hums and dramatically drags his finger over the page, and it catches her eye. She already knows the answer before he sarcastically replies, “Let’s see… page… one! Same as thirty minutes ago, would you look at that?” 

“Eddie,” Willow sighs and puts down her pencil, finally giving him her attention for the first time since they’d arrived at the library, “You have to read it. Even if just a chapter.” 

“Wasn’t the point that you would make sure I graduate by doing my homework?” 

“There is only so much magic I can work, Munson.” 

“So you’ve said before,” he hums. He’s completely shoved the book off to the side, now completely focused on her with his head propped up by his left hand. 

“What do you want me to do? Read to you?” The moment the words have left her mouth and she sees Eddie light up with delight, she’s already shaking her head and taking them back, “No, no, no. I am not reading to you. You’re a senior in high school, not a five year old in kindergarten.”

“Oh, come on , Red,” she thinks she’s going to get a headache by how whiney he’s keeping his tone, “You have a pretty voice. It’d be fun.” 

“And what about me having to read your book?” 

“I can read to you, too. We’ll take turns,” he’s got a boyish grin spreading from ear-to-ear, clearly completely sold on the idea. 

Willow takes him in for a second, trying to see if he was just faking excitement to annoy her. But when his grin doesn’t falter under her hard stare, she realizes it’s genuine. “Next time. If you can read one chapter on your own-”

“Nope. No negotiations. Don’t even try and tell me you don’t want this sultry, velvety, outright seductive voice reading to-”

“I don’t want that.”

“Oh, come on. Let me finish.” 

“Nope, I still don’t want that. Do your work, Munson.” 

Eddie huffs defiantly but doesn’t say another word as he digs into his backpack for his binder. She’s surprised to see him actually pull out a notebook and what seems to be an assignment sheet. 

They work in silence, Eddie clearly quiet in his pouting while Willow is too focused to speak, for another thirty minutes. Willow considers it a phenomenon; Eddie Munson was seemingly doing his homework in front of her, completing not only the front side of the sheet but the back side as well. She doesn’t care if it’s out of spite or pouting or a tantrum - he’s doing it. She might as well take a photo to put in the history books. The world will probably never witness this again. 

Their combined focus is only broken when they hear a ruckus occur from behind them. Or at least, behind Willow. Eddie’s head immediately whips up and Willow understands why when a moment later, she recognizes one of the voices. 

“Quiet down now, boys! Don’t get into too much trouble. Find the books you need and we’ll meet up at one of these tables to study .”

Jason Carver. Jason Carver, and most likely his entire group of goons, were here. 

There’s a murmur of what must be most of the jocks she’s seen tag along with Jason agreeing, walking away, but Willow also recognizes a distinct giggle one the group has seemingly left Jason. 

“ Jason !” the voice all but screams, keeping at a reasonable volume but high-pitched nonetheless. 

Chrissy Cunningham. 

Eddie’s eyes are glued to whatever scene is playing out behind Willow’s back, and although she’s dying to turn and witness whatever has his attention so drawn in, she decides to be the responsible one. 

“Eddie,” she whispers, tapping the table. 

No response. 

“ Eddie ,” she tries again, this time reaching her pencil out to poke his arm, he shifts it some, but his eyes are still glued to the scene. 

“Munson!” she whisper-shouts, finally throwing out her foot beneath the table until it connects sharply with his shin. 

“Ow!” he’s loud, and a student from a nearby table sushes them, “Fuck, that hurt.” 

“Good. Focus,” she taps his homework in front of him, trying to muster her most maternal voice. His eyes only meet her for a few seconds in an angry squint before they focus back in behind her head. He leans down slowly, seeming to be rubbing out his leg she most likely just bruised. “Seriously? What the hell could possibly be so-” 

She whips herself around, and immediately gets it. Eddie is staring at Jason Carver sucking the face off of Chrissy Cunningham against the nonfiction section. 

She can’t look away, blushing profusely as she can’t see where Jason’s mouth begins and Chrissy’s mouth ends. He’s got his hands gripping her thighs, her skirt riding up. The entire sight is flustering and mesmerizing. 

Eddie kicks her this time, albeit far more gentle than she had been with him. “Now who needs to focus?” 

“Still you,” Willow turns back to him, looking down at the table and not meeting his smirk, “You’re the super, super senior. Do your homework, old man.”

“Old man? That’s a new one.” 

“I mean it. Do your homework.”

“If I recall, you’re the one who’s supposed to do it for me.” 

She has half the mind to not kick him again, this time in his right shin to leave a matching set of bruises. 

“Seriously, stop changing the subject, being a pervert, whatever and just do your homework,” Willow is whispering again, and with her voice low, she can hear Jason and Chrissy making out. 

Eddie’s eyes are still locked in on them as he scoffs, “Me, the pervert? You were watching them too, Red.” 

“Jesus Christ,” she huffs, waving a hand in front of Eddie’s eyes. He easily dodges her attempts at distraction, a smile playing up his lips. She realizes he’s just doing it to annoy her now, so she immediately ignores the part of her that had been against kicking him, “Are you serious? I’m not joking, Munson, fo-”

It happens impossibly quick. Willow kicks once more with better aim, expecting easy impact with where she knows Eddie’s right shin should be, when he suddenly leans down and grabs her ankle. 

“ Stop, ” his grip tightens as he looks at her finally, “kicking me.” 

Willow can’t breathe for a second, the feeling of his cold rings impossible to ignore against her bare ankle. He’s no longer smiling, but his eyes are still sparkling. The longer he holds onto her, the faster her heart beats. 

She knows she’s staring for too long when his thumb starts to caress the inside of her ankle softly. 

“Let go of me,” she whines, squirming. It tickles, but she’d rather die than admit to Eddie that she’s ticklish. She has a feeling that would end particularly badly for her, especially in this compromising situation they’re in.

“Are you going to try to kick me again?” 

“Yes, ten times harder this time, asshole.” 

“Then no, ” she can feel his hand tighten as if for emphasis, and he yanks softly on her, causing her to slide down her chair. 

“You know what? I still have another leg,” she grits out, gripping the edge of the table roughly to stop him from dragging her. 

“And I have another hand,” he lifts his free hand and wiggles his fingers for emphasis. 

She doesn’t know why she’s blushing so hard. But his fingers are still on her bare skin, and she’s now cursing for wearing her pair of pants that were cuffed at the ankles, exposing the skin now on fire. It was ridiculous - Eddie’s touch shouldn’t have so much affect on her. 

She’s gone quiet, and she’s stopped struggling against him. He clearly notices as he eggs her on, “Go ahead, Red. Try to kick me with the other leg.” 

“You’re a grade A asshole,” she mutters, crossing her arms over her chest. 

They had both become so wrapped up in each other, they didn’t notice that the sounds of Jason and Chrissy making out had ceased until Jason’s dreadful voice was right beside them: “You’re at my table, freak.” 

Eddie drops her ankle immediately, “Carver, how nice of you to join us.” 

Willow is frozen, unsure of what to do as she’s suddenly looking up at the blonde prick. Chrissy is quiet at his side until she makes eye contact with Willow. 

“Willow?” she gasps, stepping out from behind Jason some. Both boys look between the girls curiously as Chrissy is looking wildly between Willow and Eddie, “I… I thought you said you didn’t know Eddie.” 

“Oh, well, I-” Willow cuts herself off, realizing she had no idea how to lie out of this one. Fuck it . She was going to regret this, but Eddie’s lie he told his friends was already going to reach Steve through Dustin, so why not make everyone believe his story? “I lied.” 

Eddie and Chrissy look shocked. Jason, however, just looks almost disgusted. He’s holding back, as if giving in and fully wearing a mask of disgust would be showing he cared too much. 

“You lied?” Chrissy’s voice is small, but she doesn’t seem nearly as cruel as Jason does at this moment.

Willow nods, “I lied. We just kind of wanted to keep it a secret.” 

She looks at Eddie, but he’s already staring at her. She wishes he were easier to read, that she knew exactly what message he was trying to convey at that moment with his wide, brown eyes, but she’s left clueless. At best, she still only sees the shock that’s settled across his cheeks and forehead. 

“Keep what a secret?” Willow feels bad as Chrissy keeps up her kindness, being completely oblivious. 

She’s going to make me say it. In front of Jason. She’s going to make me damn myself. 

“That we’re a thing,” Eddie finally jumps in to help Willow, gesturing wildly between them before smiling boyishly, “She’s my girl.” 

Jason finally speaks up, making a noise of disgust, “Whatever. This is still our table. Go find another one, freaks.”

Freaks. Plural. Eddie is no longer the lonesome freak - I’m officially there. 

Willow’s head is reeling but she doesn’t waste a second packing her bag up and standing. Eddie takes his sweet time, smirking at Jason as he does it. Chrissy seems just as uncomfortable as Willow is, shifting from foot to foot with her hands wrapped around Jason’s bicep. 

“Did I stutter? Hurry up,” Jason finally snaps when Eddie keeps up his dramatic act of packing up at the slowest pace possible, grabbing Eddie’s binder and tossing it roughly into his chest.

Eddie’s playful smile fades immediately. “Don’t touch my shit, Carver.” 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“Then fucking move .” 

Eddie immediately stands up, having a few inches over Jason, glaring at him. He’s abandoned his binder back on the table, not packing it away likely out of spite now. 

“There’s plenty of tables around here. Pick another one, yeah?” As Eddie says this, Willow watches Chrissy’s grip on Jason’s bicep tighten. It doesn’t take a genius to sense what is about to happen as Jason makes a fist at each side. 

Willow immediately remembers the fact that Jason has the rest of the jocks here; if he starts a fight with Eddie, they’re sure to help him finish it. 

She doesn’t hesitate to make her way around Chrissy and Jason, immediately taking her place at Eddie’s side. She keeps her back to them, focusing on Eddie and Eddie only. “Let’s just go, okay? They’re not worth it.” 

Eddie’s gaze finally flickers to her. Being this close to him almost takes her breath away, remembering the way he gripped her ankle, smelling not only cigarette ash but his cheap cologne clearly. 

She’s not in the mood to bandage him up because he felt like being brave. Also, she’s not sure she could handle seeing his face bruised up. It had hurt her heart enough when she saw Steve in the aftermath of the Russians, and even imagining Eddie with the same shiners makes it clench all over again. 

“Listen to your girlfriend, freak. She may be a goddamn idiot for dating you, but she’s got the right idea right now.”

Eddie can see the change in Willow at that. She goes from staring pleadingly into his eyes to a slow fire igniting in them, an angry warmth spreading across her fingertips at Jason’s words. 

Goddamn idiot? 

“What did you say, Carver?” Willow slowly turns, her patience thin. Her back is barely brushing against Eddie’s chest and she can feel him start to breathe faster.

“I said , you’re a goddamn idiot for dating the freak. I can’t imagine him being any good in bed, either, so I have no idea why you’re with him. He promise you free drugs? Is that it, Jenkins?” Jason leans in towards her with an entertained grin. He’s enjoying riling her up. 

Willow was never on Jason’s radar. He never bothered her before her deal with Eddie; she was always a shameful bystander as she watched him rain hell down on anyone he deemed ‘too different’. She’d watched him throw many a kids into lockers, partake in shouting matches across the cafeteria with Eddie himself, listened to his cruel words and rumors he chose to spread during class without ever once saying a word. And right now, the fire in her stomach that made her want to punch Jason Carver wasn’t because he called her an idiot, or that he was looking down at her so condescendingly - it was his words regarding Eddie. She had spent years listening to Jason Carver break Eddie Munson down, and she had heard the repercussions in Eddie’s low self esteem within just a week of dating him, fake or not. 

It’s the same feeling she got when Eddie assumed she wanted free drugs from him during their first approach about the deal. That realization girls must toy with him for some free weed. The fact that Jason brought it up just now is only confirming the suspicion for Willow. 

Jason’s lucky that Willow keeps her itching palm at her side, spitting whatever venom she could conjure in the moment instead, “Jealous, Carver? You know, you’re starting to sound nasally from all the goddamn special K you have to snort to keep up with school these days.” 

Chrissy gasps. In mere seconds, Eddie is finally grabbing his stuff, slinging his backpack over his shoulder and reaching to grab Willow’s from across the table. Jason’s breathing becomes erratic, and his glare hardens as he presses even closer into Willow. 

“Tread very carefully, Jenkins,” he threatens, and she doesn’t flinch. Eddie is the one to break them apart. 

He grabs Willow’s shoulders, immediately pulling her back against him and turning her to walk away as he’s muttering, “Nope, nope, nope. Let’s go. Time to go.”

His grip is tight as he steers her forward, making a beeline towards the front of the library. 

“That’s right, Munson!” Jason shouts from behind them, and no one shushes the golden boy, “Keep your freak girlfriend on her leash !”

Willow doesn’t verbally respond, despite it taking an abundance of effort and grinding of her teeth. She simply shoots her arm out behind her aggressively as she flips off Jason without a second glance, quickening her pace as Eddie’s hands fall off her shoulders. She’s storming away from the scene and avoiding all the stares she encounters along the way. 

“Red!” Eddie quietly calls out from behind her, struggling to keep up with her pace in her fury, “ Red ! Slow down .” 

He finally catches up with her, grabbing her shoulder and turning her towards him. It’s not rough, as she had expected the moment his palm connected with her - it’s surprisingly gentle. Even in both of their exasperated states, he makes the effort to be gentle, to be kind to her. 

“He is such an asshole ,” she says far too loudly, too upset to care. She’s aware her face matches her hair, and that her heart is pounding in her ears. A nearby librarian starts to shush her but Eddie doesn’t give her the chance, throwing his arm around Willow’s shoulder and dragging her along with him as he bursts through the doors of the library into the sunny, warm afternoon air. 

“That’s nothing new. Jason has always been an asshole,” Eddie shakes his head and the ends of his hair tickles Willow’s cheek slightly, “Maybe you’ve just never been his target. Which is a good thing.” 

“He’s always been that awful to you?” Willow wiggles out from under Eddie’s arm, feeling too warm now that they’re outside. She makes her way to the bench before throwing herself down, Eddie following her actions only moments after. 

“Depends on the day,” Eddie shrugs, taking off their backpacks and sitting them off to his side. 

“God, what a spoiled little brat ,” Willow groans, still unreasonably angry as she leans forward and covers her face with her hands. She’s feeling every negative emotion possible - she’s angry at Jason for being such a prick, she’s upset with herself for spending years as just some bystander, and she’s sad for Eddie, who’s dealt with Jason Carver’s attacks more than she ever will. 

“Indeed he is, sweetheart. Indeed he is,” Eddie softly agrees, and she can feel him lean forward similar to how she was. The heels of her hands are still pressed into her eyes when he suddenly blurts out, “It’s why I take in the sheeps.” 

She slowly removes her hands from her face, shifting them to instead prop herself up from underneath her chin as she softly says, “What?” 

“The freshmen,” Eddie clarifies, “Whenever I see the ones that will probably end up on Jason’s radar, I bring them under my wing. He usually doesn’t fuck with me so much, I don’t know what’s got up his ass this year.” 

“Me, I think,” Willow sighs, still looking at Eddie earnestly, “That’s really nice of you, you know? Everyone thinks you’re just trying to build up a cult.” 

“Oh, that too, don’t get me wrong,” he teases, grinning and tilting his head as he often did when he was in a playful mood. 

“Right, of course. What did you call it? Cult of Vecna?” 

“You remember!” he shouts, making Willow jump slightly, “Sorry, I just assumed you didn’t pay attention the other night.” 

“It was hard not to, with how loud and obnoxious you were being,” Willow finally leans back up, bumping her shoulder into Eddie’s. She doesn’t pay attention to the warmth that lingers from their touch, blaming it on the weather. 

“DM duties, sweetheart,” he bumps his knee against hers in a similar fashion to how she had just bumped his shoulder, and she stares at where their jeans had connected for a moment, “It just helps that I’m already the most obnoxious fucker naturally.” 

She finally tears her stare from their knees, looking up into his doe eyes, “I’m glad Dustin has you to protect him,” she admits, smiling softly. 

For the first time, she watches Eddie Munson blush profusely instead of herself. 

“Please, I have a feeling that kid’s gonna be the death of me. Besides, he’s Steves’s kid, right? That definitely won’t end well.” 

“Who knows, I haven’t heard anything from Steve about your fuck up yet, so maybe it will end well,” Willow shrugs and picks at one of the small rips that had starting to form on the knee of her pants. She had just spoken to Robin over the phone the night before, but the catastrophe that was Eddie’s ridiculous story of their relationship beginning wasn’t brought up. 

“Good. I hope the little shrimp keeps his mouth shut.” 

Willow snorts at this, realizing her anger had finally melted away from the interaction with Jason. In fact, the entire fight was almost completely forgotten. Almost.

“Hey, how did you know that Jason snorts K?” Eddie randomly asks slowly, carefully, as if reading Willow’s mind and choosing his words very carefully. 

“Lucky guess,” Willow laughs bitterly, “He’s a popular kid. They’ve only got so many party tricks up their sleeves.” 

Eddie just throws his head back in silent laughter, his shaking causing his thigh to press against hers. 

There’s that buzzing again. It starts in the back of her head, blurring her vision as she’s staring at where they’re pressed together, and she feels her lungs consider giving out for a moment. She doesn’t know what to call the feeling, doesn’t understand why Eddie’s the only one who’s ever made her feel this way, but she decides then and there she enjoys it. It is terrifying and confusing and quite possibly the most adrenaline she’s ever felt in her life; she might spend the rest of her life chasing it. 

“We never finished our homework,” Willow murmurs, fighting the urge to press her entire body into Eddie’s side in fear that that much contact might set her aflame. 

Eddie’s head is still leaning back when he hums, “Well, something tells me we’re not going to be coming back here, are we?” 

“No,” Willow immediately shakes her head. Now that she’s significantly calmed down, the embarrassment is creeping up, “Absolutely not.”

“Wanna go back to my place?” Eddie offers, turning his head towards her. 

She just shakes her head, scrunching up her face as if that’s the worst idea he’s ever had. It wasn’t a bad idea, honestly, but Willow didn’t think she was quite ready to cross that boundary. It had already been stressful enough having Eddie in her house, a strange sense of intimacy still lingering from that day, and she wanted to hold off on experiencing that again for a while. “What if we just, I don’t know… finished it up in your van? Would that be dumb? That’s a dumb idea, never mind.” 

“No such thing!” Eddie jumps up at an impressive speed, already holding both of their backpacks in one hand while the other digs into his pocket for his keys. He’s shining as he yanks them out, jiggling them as he motions for her to follow him, “After you, m’lady!” 

She sighs in relief, standing with a smile, “Give me my backpack then, Munson.” 

“Not happening. I’ll have you know I’m a gentleman.” 

She saw that glint in his eyes. The joke covering up the truth - Eddie wasn’t about to let her carry her own bag. 

For once, she doesn’t have a snarky comeback for Eddie, deciding to pick her battles more carefully. Instead, she falls in rhythm with Eddie as they make their way to his van, and she questions how Jason Carver could ever be such a dick to one of the nicest people she’d ever met.

Chapter Text

The next week bleeds together for Willow; she trains at her new job, she keeps up with her classwork, she attempts to keep Eddie Munson in line in class, and she avoids Jason Carver and his friends at all costs. She’s been pretty successful, in her opinion. If you count hiding in the library every lunch period with only Robin for company successful. 

“I seriously don’t understand why you’re still hiding from Jason,” Robin mumbles when they enter the library for the fourth day in a row. Surprisingly, word hadn’t reached Steve or Robin of Eddie’s slip up. Willow is beginning to wonder if Eddie threatened poor Dustin Henderson into silence. 

“Did you completely forget the part where I accused him of snorting drugs?” Willow says over her shoulder as she takes a sharp turn down one of the aisles of books. She’s looking for a new book to entertain herself with - absolutely not in an effort to further put off beginning to read Eddie’s annotated novel. No, Willow would never do that.

His offer still rings in her ears from time to time, when she’s staring down the book with little to no motivation. 

“I can read to you, too. We’ll take turns.”

Robin leans against the bookshelf beside where Willow stops abruptly, fingers tracing over book spines as if she’s interested in them. “Everyone knows popular kids do drugs. Who cares?” 

“Jason does, he has a reputation.” 

“We all have reputations.” 

“Yeah? And is yours to be the most annoying best friend I’ve ever had?” Willow says with faux annoyance when Robin leans herself into her eyesight, blocking the books she was trying to look over. “Christ, I think I would be better off hiding behind Eddie and his big, scary reputation. At least he can be funny.”

“Hey!” Robin shouts, loud enough to make Willow shush her, “I can be funny. Screw you. I’m way better than Munson.” 

Willow is biting back her smile as she maneuvers around a very offended Robin, thinking about Eddie. The way he had looked in the van that morning, hands dramatically beating along to the latest mixtape he was trying to show her once he picked her up. He had spent this week in particular trying to get her to like Ozzy Osbourne, playing his tape of the album “Bark at the Moon” on repeat. She would never admit it to Eddie but she had grown a certain fondness for some of the songs - especially track four which she was only ninety-nine percent sure was called ‘Rock n Roll Rebel’. 

“I’m serious!” Robin insists as she follows closely behind Willow. 

“Keep your voice down, Buckley,” Willow reminds carefully over her shoulder, stopping at another random bookshelf to look over her options. She wasn’t even sure what she was looking for, it was just something to keep her busy, truthfully. At random, she pulls one of the novels off the shelf: Of Mice and Men by John Steinback. She pauses and considers, but ends up shoving the book back into its home on the shelf. 

She’s not even sure she’s in the mood to read right now. 

“What kind of book are you even looking for?” Robin asks, but Willow’s attention is suddenly caught by a commotion she hears coming from outside the library. Robin hears it too, immediately looking at her friend with raised eyebrows. 

Willow walks slowly to the end of the aisle, peaking herself out around the shelf to catch sight of one of the large windows that showcase the school hallways. Robin is pressed up against her, also taking a look. 

At first, all she can hear still is the shouts and chanting of students. Then, very suddenly, a few students run past one of the large windows. Willow has to squint to make out the pair of students that are clearly fighting: one of the students has flung the other one against a locker, bringing his forearm up to his neck. 

“Hey, isn’t that-” Robin doesn’t get to finish her question, Willow’s stomach already dropping.

It’s not just random students.

It’s Eddie. Eddie is the student pressed against the locker, nose clearly bleeding, and Jason Carver is the asshole with his arm pressed into his neck. 

Willow wastes no time running across the library, ignoring the teacher that shouts for her to not run. She isn’t even sure if Robin is following behind her, all her attention focused on the goddamn idiot pinned to the lockers: technically, her goddamn idiot. 

“Break it up! Break it up!” a teacher has beat Willow to the scene as she struggles to shoulder past the students gathered around the sight. Jason has been yanked off of Eddie, who’s still leaning on the lockers, bleeding profusely with a wicked grin. 

That smug idiot. That fucking dimwit. 

The teacher isn’t making any moves to help Eddie, or punish Jason. Willow finally breaks through the final circle of students, nearly tripping on her way between two students who were too focused having a front row seat to the action to hear her demanding they move. 

“Freak,” Jason spits at Eddie’s feet. He’s not facing Willow - she has no idea if Eddie even got any good hits in. 

Willow is prepared to grab Jason by the shoulder, turn him and slap him into the next week before she has time to think rationally, but she’s stopped by a hand on her elbow. 

Robin . 

“Willow Victoria Jenkins, don’t you dare ,” Robin hisses, more frantic than Willow had seen her in quite some time as she yanks her back into the ranks of students. 

Willow turns to face her, eyes flaming, before she attempts to force Robin to let go of her arm, “Let me go.”

“No.” 

Their interaction gets Jason’s attention, turning slowly before he laughs. “Oh, good. Freak’s girlfriend is here to save the day.” 

It’s now clear Eddie had gotten a few hits in. Jason has a bruise on his jaw that is blooming spectacularly. 

Willow is pissed. Unnecessarily pissed. She doesn’t notice Eddie looking up at her wildly as she pulls herself free and takes her backpack, heavy with her math textbook, and swings it at Jason. 

“Fuck off, Carver,” she seethes as her bag makes contact with his shoulder, causing Jason to stumble backwards. Not a single one of his friends standing nearby makes a move, and even Jason himself looks stunned as she readjusts her bag onto her shoulder, now ignoring them and focusing back on Eddie. 

By the look on his face, he’s going to lecture her. It’s painfully ironic, but Willow can handle it. She doesn’t care right now. 

“You,” she points at Eddie, “Let’s go, now. ” 

Despite the look that had been on his face, the moment he processes Willow is also pissed at him, he doesn’t say a word back. He simply follows her as she turns and shoves her way back through the crowd. They pass the teacher that had made a feeble attempt at stopping the fight. 

“Mister Munson, are you-” the teacher starts, but Willow doesn’t stop, reaching behind her and grabbing Eddie’s hand. 

“He’s fine.” 

She drags him down the hallway in silence, making a beeline for the girls’ bathroom. 

“I don’t think I can go in th-” Eddie starts to protest, but Willow pays him no mind as she shoves the door open. 

“Anyone in here?” she calls out sharply shrugging off her backpack and tossing it to the ground carelessly, “No? Good,” she immediately turns to face Eddie, scaring him with just how upset she looks, “You better have a damn good reason for having gotten into a physical fight with Jason Carver, or so help me .” 

She doesn’t wait for his response, moving to the door and locking it before she’s storming back across the room for the paper towels. 

She can’t think straight with how upset she is. She doesn’t know where to begin. Is she devastated about seeing Eddie hurt? Or is she furious he caused a scene? Is she angry with Jason and just projecting it onto Eddie? 

Who fucking knows. 

“I honestly knew all boys were stupid, but my God , do you love to prove me right, Eddie Munson. I mean, seriously? A fight? With Jason? It’s not even been a month of school. And on top of that, we just avoided a fight with Jason in the library. Is that why he hit you? Because if that little prick -” Willow angrily shoves the paper towels under one of the faucets, wetting them generously before continuing her rant “-was delivering backlash to you for what I said, I’ll fill my bag with every goddamn textbook I own, and I’ll dislocate his shoulder next time I see him.” 

She’s back in front of Eddie, and the corners of his mouth are twitching upwards. He opens his mouth to speak, but she shakes her head, “Nope. No. This isn’t funny, Munson. Sit.” 

He doesn’t hesitate to go and lean against the trash can she had pointed at. Once she’s standing in front of him, ripping at the paper towels and getting ready to press one against his nose, he finally speaks for the first time since they entered the bathroom. “You’re pretty when you’re mad, Red.” 

“Yeah?” she scoffs, hand midair with a paper towel, “Well then I must be drop-dead gorgeous right now, because I’m pissed .” 

She can tell his wide smile is causing him pain by the wince that follows. 

She lifts her hand once more, this time making contact with his skin as she swipes underneath his nose. He immediately flinches.

“Ow, ow, ow,” he starts to lean away from her, but she grabs his chin immediately. 

“Stop moving.”

It’s clear that if her hand didn’t have his face in a death grip now, he would have replied with something snarky. But instead, he stays quiet, only scrunching his face in pain as she continues to clean the blood away from his nose. At some point, she steps closer to him, positioning herself between his legs with ease. He has his knees against each of her hips, and she can tell he doesn’t know what to do with his hands initially by the way they hover at his side until he finally settles on allowing them to rest on his knees, his fingertips barely ghosting against her. 

“He was fucking with Henderson.”

Willow tosses the first bloody paper towel away, prepping a second one. “What?” 

“Jason. He fucked with Henderson. I started the fight,” Eddie is looking down, picking at the knees of his jeans as she stares at him. 

She isn’t sure whether she’s in awe, or back to being pissed. 

“You idiot,” she finally mumbles, sighing heavily as she twists the end of a dry paper towel, pressing her right palm against his forehead to force his head to glance up at her, “Was it at least worth it?” 

Before he answers her, she carefully stuffs the paper towel into the side of his nose that’s bleeding, whispering a soft ‘lean forward’ once she has. He follows her instructions flawlessly, tucking in his chin as he finally answers in a nasally voice, “Absolutely. I told you, I take care of my sheeps.”

“There are ways to take care of and defend your little freshmen that don’t involve almost breaking your nose,” Willow grumbles, finally stepping back. Eddie’s knees leave her hips and she studies her handiwork. 

It’ll do. 

“Like what? Hitting him with my backpack?” Eddie laughs, a tinge of bitterness in his tone, but Willow knows it’s not directed at her, “No offense, but if I did that, he would have had my ass on the floor in ten seconds flat.” 

“I know,” Willow isn’t sure what to do with her hands now, fiddling with them in front of her. “I just… I don’t know. I saw him throwing you against a locker, and that stupid teacher wasn’t doing anything. No one was doing anything. You talk about taking care of your sheeps or whatever, but who does that for you?” Willow blurts out her words without much thought, immediately regretting them. 

“You, apparently.” 

“I’m being serious.” 

“So am I. Both times you’ve been present during my fights with Jason Carver, you’ve embarrassed his ass to all Hell to defend my honor. It’s badass. Like, having a big, scary dog - except my big, scary dog is like, two feet tall and has bright red hair.” 

“I’m actually five foot four,” she corrects him, standing up straighter for emphasis. He snorts now despite the pain. 

“Right, right. My mistake,” she knows his smile must be causing him a world of pain, but he’s still wearing it proudly as he stands up from the trash can, towering over her. 

She fights the urge to laugh at how ridiculous he looks with the brown paper towel shoved up his nose. 

“My point is, I’ve got you now, Red.”

Her heart aches. Her heart aches so goddamn badly because of a single word: now . Eddie had Willow now to scold him, to force him to do his classwork, to rush him to make it to school on time, to clean him up after his ridiculous fights - but who was there before her? Did she take over someone else’s place in Eddie’s life, or was this space always so vacant? 

Willow lifts a hand, swiping on Eddie’s bottom lip that is swollen but not quite busted, “You need ice.” 

“What, I’m not cool enough for you?” he teases, but she just rolls her eyes, finally walking to where she had tossed her backpack. Her hands are still trembling a bit with her anger. 

The roles will be reversed next week. Jason Carver better pray he doesn’t run into Willow. 

“Never said that, Eds,” she turns and faces him again, eyes wandering over each fresh injury. She can see Steve’s face flashing before her eyes all over again, the same bone crushing empathy having drowned her at that time that felt so faraway returning now. But this time, it’s for Eddie. It’s for the boy she’s only really been friends with for two weeks now. 

“I’ve seen that look before,” he whispers, taking a step closer to Willow, “It’s the same look you had for Harrington that night at the bar.” 

“What do you mean?” she murmurs, heart racing when he comes even closer to her. 

“I mean, you get this look when your friends get hurt - like you’d burn the world down for them. Didn’t know you cared about me that much, sweetheart,” he’s trying to cover up a serious observation with a joke, the delicate shining of a question behind his sarcastic words and affectionate nickname. 

“Well, I do,” Willow doesn’t joke back, she’s deathly serious. She would burn the world down for him - she’d drag Jason to hell and back herself if it meant the boy in front of her knew a moment of peace, “You’re my friend. It’s part of the deal. Get used to it.” 

“No take-backs?” Eddie questions, rocking on his heels with a boyish grin. 

“No take-backs,” Willow says, fighting in her own childish grin. She breaks when Eddie holds out his pinkie, looking at her expectantly. It takes her a moment to realize what he’s insisting on before her face breaks out into a shining smile, her own pinkie shooting out to hook with his. 

She’s taken off guard when he locks their hands together by the small contact tightly, yanking her in closely with a mischief on his breath. “Good, because personally, when I get my ass kicked in a fight in the middle of a school day, my friends ditch the rest of the school day to tend to me.” 

“Eddie, no, I can’t-” she starts to deny, by his pinky tightens on hers, and her smile isn’t faltering, “Seriously! It’s only the second week of school! And I-”

I’ve never ditched before.

“What? It won’t kill you to miss gym class, I promise, Red. Besides, if you don’t nurse me back to health, who will? I’m not even sure I know proper icing techniques,” Eddie begs and barters, and for the first time in her life, Willow watches the school freak use puppy dog eyes on her. 

“I just… I’ve… I’ve never-” Willow is stuttering, mostly due to the intense eye contact Eddie is forcing onto her. 

“You’ve never what?” Eddie questions, growing more serious for a moment in concern at her distress. His eyes leave hers to take in her heaving chest and quivering lip, anxiety wrapping its claws around her veins at the mere thought of doing something so out of character for her, “Ditched?” 

It’s embarrassing. Willow doesn’t know how to spell it out more plainly to Eddie: before their deal, she was a goody-two-shoes, a wallflower who didn’t interrupt fights and who didn’t talk back to the jocks. She didn’t lock herself into the girls’ bathroom with a boy. She didn’t let her attention waver during class, whether it be to laugh at one of Eddie’s jokes or to pass notes with him. She was the golden student who always sat in the front of the classroom, who came to school and did her work and went home. Even Robin and Steve’s best efforts had never gotten her to budge from her good girl routine. 

But in the last two weeks, Eddie Munson had begun to unravel her without her even noticing. 

What would her mother say if she found out her daughter had been involved in a fight at school? It didn’t matter if she hadn’t really thrown a punch, unless you count slinging her backpack - the thought of causing her mother any worry or distress made her dizzy. Not in the way Eddie made her dizzy - in a way that made her ready to burst into one of the stalls to their sides and vomit right then and there. A guilt that burned her throat raw and brought spots into her vision. 

“We don’t have to,” Eddie suddenly murmurs, and he places a hand on each of her shoulders.

Am I having a panic attack? 

She can feel tears pricking at her eyes, and snaps them shut in embarrassment. “Fuck, no, I’m- Jesus, Eddie, I’m sorry. I-I-” 

Her stuttering is cut off by the soothing motions of his thumbs trailing along her bicep, and even though her hearing is muted as if she’s underwater, she swears she can make out him rapidly whispering reassurances to her. 

“Hey, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay? You want to go to class right now? I’ll walk you, I swear. I was only joking. But, Red, I- you just don’t look so good. I think you’re having a panic attack,” Great, cool. I am having one. Three cheers for keeping it cool. “So if you want to get out of here, we can. We can just go sit in my van for a little while. Is that alright? Just so you can calm down?” Eddie is talking impossibly fast, but Willow appreciates his effort - he clearly wants nothing more than to make her feel better. 

She wasn’t making it through Burley’s Algebra class in this state. Besides, like he said, it only had to be a little while. 

She opens her mouth to say yes, letting her eyes flutter back open to see Eddie’s worried expression, but she can’t find her words. All she can do is nod. 

It’s all she has to do. Eddie doesn’t waste another moment gathering up their things, plucking the paper towel out of his nose and grabbing a few extras, before guiding Willow at his side outside.

She doesn’t remember much about the walk to Eddie’s van - whether they came across any teachers or fellow students, or which exit they walked out of, but she does remember the comfort in the weight of Eddie’s arm around her shoulders. It’s nice.

Chapter Text

Thirty minutes.

They’ve been sitting in Eddie’s van, in complete silence, for thirty minutes. 

At first, Willow had been thankful, coming down from her embarrassing panic attack. But around ten minutes ago, she had realized her heart rate had come back down, her breaths finally coming and going with ease once more. Now, she was just basking in how comfortable it was to sit and do nothing with Eddie. She’s only experienced the phenomenon three times in her life; the first night her mother and her spent in Hawkins as they ate take out in the middle of their empty living room, the first sleepover she ever had with Robin, and the afternoon she realized her crush had evolved into love for Steve as she sat with him at Scoops in complete silence. 

Eddie moves suddenly as Willow reminisces, causing her to look at his figure. He’s leaning over her lap without a word, suddenly digging in his glove box as his tongue peaks out from between his lips in severe focus. 

“Whatcha doin’ there, Eds?” Willow doesn’t need to whisper considering it’s just them, but she does anyway. The moment feels fragile.

He doesn’t respond. 

Instead, he smiles once he has his fist around whatever cassette tape he had been searching for, his hand obscuring Willow from seeing what tape it was. 

Of course, he’s putting on music. 

He fumbles with the tape for a second before he finally manages to press it into his radio, and the speakers pour out a familiar tune to Willow that breaks their silence. 

She can’t stop her laugh, bringing a hand up over her mouth. 

“Don’t you dare laugh, Red,” he warns, holding up a threatening finger. 

“I know there's nothin' to say, someone has taken my place. When times go bad, when times go rough, won't you lay me down in tall grass and let me do my stuff?”

Lindsey Buckingham’s voice fills the van and leaves Willow in absolute awe. 

“I thought you didn’t like Fleetwood Mac?” she finally questions slowly, hand lowering from her mouth as her brain spins. 

“I don’t! I mean, this tape was just- it’s just a friend’s! They left it in my van,” Eddie explains, lying so terribly Willow snorts. 

“Which friend?”

“Huh?”

“Which one of your friends listens to Fleetwood Mac? Was it Gareth, or maybe Jeff? Jeff seems like a Maccie,” Willow giggles, biting her lip to avoid busting out into full blown laughter. 

Eddie is quiet as the tape continues playing on, ‘Second Hand News’ ending as the upbeat drums for ‘Dreams’ kick in. 

Finally, by the first chorus, he speaks up, “Unimportant. The important thing is, are you feeling better?” 

Willow couldn’t smile softer if she tried. Eddie is tapping his fingers, seemingly anxiously as they aren’t perfectly on beat, and she can see his eyes fluttering about the front of the van to focus on anything but her. She wonders how many times he’s been a giant softie to his friends, considering his entire group plays up a particularly ‘tough-guy’ image to mimic their leader. It’s why Willow had yet to sit with them at lunch - Eddie Munson had a role to play as a long-haired, loud-mouthed metalhead. And that role wasn’t the doting boyfriend, at least not in front of his friends. She had to let him have that, at the very least. 

“I am, thank you,” her voice is still low, and she almost questions if he can hear her over the music until he looks up to meet her gaze with a small smile to match her own. 

“Good,” he breathes, seeming relieved. 

Had he really been that worried about me? 

Willow lifts her hand, about to reach out to touch his cheek where she sees a bruise forming, when she thinks better of it. Her hands return to clasping each other tightly in her lap as she decides to bring it up. “Hey, you still need to ice your face. You’re bruising.” 

“Yeah? I think it makes me look badass,” he’s grinning as he looks into his rearview mirror, fingers gingerly prodding at the darkened cheek, “What do you think? Am I a macho man now?” 

“Never,” Willow shakes her head, letting her hair curtain to conceal her entertained grin, “You just look like some loser who got his shit rocked.” 

Eddie gasps, clutching his chest as he always does, “Hey, you should see the other guy! Rumor has it his shoulder has a gnarly bruise forming-”

“From you?"

“Indirectly, yes,” Eddie defends, “The bruise did in fact happen because of me.” 

“Really? ‘Cause I heard your fake girlfriend is the real badass who gave him that bruise,” Willow teases, looking over at him before leaning in with her eyebrows raised, awaiting him to hit the banter back into her side of the court. 

“Technicalities are stupid,” is all he huffs, rolling his eyes before a hand reaches up and pushes his hair out of his face. 

Willow is shaking with her laughter as she reaches over her shoulder and pulls on the seatbelt, buckling herself in as Eddie watches her curiously. Once she’s secure, she turns to him, shrugging as he continues to question her with his eyes. 

“What? Your van doesn’t have ice last time I checked, Munson, and ditching doesn’t count if we just sit in the parking lot. Hit the pedal.” 

“Yes ma’am,” his hand is immediately gripping his gear shift as the tape begins to play ‘Don’t Stop’, “Where to, sweetheart?” 

She flushes at the nickname, just as she always does. “Can I trust that your place has ice?” 

“Wanna find out?” he wiggles his brows, already backing out of his parking space, immediately peeling wildly out of the parking lot. 

---

“Do frozen peas count?” 

“Do you guys really not have ice?”

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

Eddie Munson’s trailer is shockingly comfortable. It’s a little messy, a little small, but still comfortable all the same. 

Willow leans onto the counter separating her and Eddie as he digs through the freezer atop of his fridge, looking high and low for anything that may be relatively useful for icing his face. 

“Let me see the peas,” she sighs overdramatically, holding out a hand as he barely looks over his shoulder. Instead of passing them to her like a normal person, he tosses them in her general direction, making her let out a squeak as she fumbles and nearly drops them out of shock when they land perfectly in her palm. “Munson! Seriously?” 

“What?” she doesn’t have to see his face to see his cheesy grin. 

“Do you throw frozen peas at every girl you bring back to your trailer?” she grumbles, staring at the generic brand of vegetable as she flips them over in her hand, eyes looking past the cooking instructions and catching the expiration date, “And these expired a year ago. Gross.”

Eddie finally stands up, placing his hands on his hips as she continues to read over the pea nonchalantly. Out of the corner of her eye, just over the edge of the peas’ packaging, she can see she was right - he’s smiling. “Only the pretty ones.” 

“What?” 

“I only throw frozen peas at the pretty girls I bring back,” his words cause a warmth to spread over Willow’s cheeks, and she tucks her chin down lower to catch the residual cold of the peas in hopes to diminish her blush, “I save the frozen corn for the ugly ones.” 

“Yeah? Is the corn expired too?” 

“Hey,” he shrugs, walking over and grabbing the peas from her, “Me and my uncle just don’t have a lot of time for cooking. Sue us.” 

Willow stands up from where she had been supporting herself on their counter, looking around, “I won’t sue you guys, but if you catch me cleaning or making grocery runs for you two, mind your business.” 

Eddie puts up a finger, waving it disapprovingly, “No, keep your hands off our treasure, Jenkins,” she can’t remember the last time he called her by her last name, but it makes a quiet smile spread over her lips, “We like our mess. It’s fine.” 

“Whatever you say, Munson,” she walks around the counter as she says this, entering into the kitchen space until she’s in front of Eddie, holding her hand out for the peas once more, “C’mon. The entire point is we need to ice your face.”

His bruise has gotten darker as time continues to pass. It still pangs her heart to see him injured, but she can swallow it down. She remembers what he said in the bathroom - how she’d burn the world down for her friends to never have to see them hurt. She may have stopped making a mental list of ways to cruelly torture Jason Carver, but everytime she catches sight of the dried blood at the edge of his nostril, she wishes she would have swung her backpack just a little bit harder. 

“We will, don’t worry. But first, why don’t I give you a grand tour?” Eddie doesn’t give Willow time to respond as he takes her hand in his, still holding onto the peas as he drags her behind him. She doesn’t even fight him, opting to entertain him, “You’ve already seen the living room, obviously. Here we have our bathroom, and yes, we know - very spacious, very classy, no need to remind us - it’s complete with a state of the art toilet that only properly flushes maybe once a week, so beware,” he’s rambling, waving towards the open door as they pass it. She peaks in as she fights back laughter at his joke, glancing at the sink counter. She catches sight of a razor and aftershave, not a clue if it belongs to Eddie or his uncle, “And the most exciting room, the room where all the magic happens, I present to you la casa de Eddie !” 

He opens his door with flourish, finally letting Willow go as he steps to the side to let her get a closer look. 

“I thought this entire trailer was your house,” Willow teases, taking a step into the room. The first thing she notices is the smell - it’s as if it’s the first night he insisted on her wearing his jacket, being wrapped in the leather and smell of his marlboros. 

“Why must you always be so technical?” he whines back, watching her carefully as she turns and looks over all the posters plastered on his wall, “Also, forgive me for the mess, Red. I’m a busy man.”

“Right, of course, so I’ve seen,” she snickers as she walks up to a flag pinned up on his wall behind his dresser that reads Corroded Coffin , “Sorry for not making it Tuesday night, by the way,” she says earnestly at the reminder. He had called and begged her to come to his show that night, but she had Spanish homework that simply couldn’t be procrastinated. No matter how badly she wanted to see him on stage again, in all his rockstar glory. 

“No biggie,” he shrugs, clasping his hands and holding the peas behind his back with a memory of a grin on his lips, “You can always come next week. Gareth actually broke one of his drums during the set, so it’s probably best you didn’t come. We had to end early.” 

“What? Seriously?” Willow turns to Eddie, and she can see the shock on his face from her genuine interest, “How the hell did he break his drums?”

“From rocking too hard, obviously, sweetheart,” Eddie hums, doe eyes concentrated on her with an emotion she couldn’t read, “I’ve broken a few guitar strings in my days. It’s normal.” 

Willow just shakes her head, reaching up and picking up an empty beer can, “That’s just insane. I can’t imagine playing a guitar or drum set so hard I break it.” 

“Have you ever played?” 

“What? An instrument? I tried to play clarinet back in middle school, but didn’t get far. The moment they told me the marching band would have to get up two hours earlier than everyone else, I dropped it,” Willow explains mindlessly, turning and seeing a few more empty beer cans scattered across Eddie’s desk. She walks over and starts to pick them up, but he doesn’t hesitate to toss the frozen peas, probably defrosted by now, onto his bed and take the cans from her hands. 

“Of course you were a band nerd, Red. Also, what did I say about cleaning?” he teases her softly, putting the cans back on his desk as she glares at him. She doesn’t respond, instead walking over to his bed. She’s about to sit on the edge of it but decides against it as she sees that the sheets look a bit dirty.

She cringes, “How often do you change your sheets?”

“I didn’t bring you into my humble abode to have you critique my cleanliness.”

“What are those stains, Munson?”

“Alright,” Eddie finally says, grabbing the peas first and then Willow’s arm, “Let’s go, tour over.”

“Wait,” Willow finally starts to laugh, trying to pull back on Eddie’s grip, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’ll stop judging you, I swear.” 

They both know it’s bullshit by the way she’s giggling. Eddie doesn’t crack, maintaining a hard stance and pulling on her arm again. “Don’t care. I’ve decided on a three date minimum.” 

Willow doesn’t know why she’s laughing so hard, throwing her weight back a bit as Eddie drags her dramatically from his bed and the stained sheets. 

“Three date minimum? What?” she gasps through her giggling as she slips a bit, and Eddie’s grip tightens on her as he holds her up. The slip up causes her to finally not fight his pull. 

“Yeah, three date minimum before you’re allowed to be in my bedroom,” Eddie huffs, but she can see his amusement breaking through.

“Since when ?” 

“Since just now. I just now decided that,” he’s finally gotten her outside of his room, letting go and turning to pull the door shut, “Bedroom rights revoked. Are you proud of yourself?” 

“Very,” she snorts, leaning back on the wall behind her, “Next time you take a girl into your room, clean your sheets.” 

“Oh, fuck off, ” he groans, leaning his head back dramatically before he’s turning and heading back towards his living room. Willow takes a moment before she follows, laughter finally dying out. 

“I’m sorry,” she sighs as he flops down onto the couch, finally leaning his head back and placing the frozen peas over his bruised face, “It really isn’t that bad of a place. I’m just messing with you,” her voice drops to a whisper, sincere as she sits down next to Eddie with a bit more grace than he had exhibited. 

His eye, the one not covered, peaks open, looking at her carefully, “ That bad? Next time we ditch, we’re going back  to your place. Weren’t your bedroom walls covered in Cyndi Lauper and Rob Lowe?” 

“Nope,” Willow pops her ‘p’ proudly, “I actually don’t have any posters.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Willow confirms as Eddie sits up, the peas sliding off his face as he looks a bit shocked. 

“Why not?” 

Willow can only shrug in answer, not really knowing what to say - she didn’t have any proper reason for not putting up posters. It had just never been a priority. 

“Shrugs aren’t an answer,” he narrows his eyes at her jokingly, adjusting to sit facing her. 

She immediately mimics him, propping an elbow onto the back of their couch before leaning her head onto her hand.  “They are when I don’t have a real answer.”

“ Boring ,” Eddie sighs, plucking at the bag of peas and noticing the wet spot they’d left on his knee. He immediately makes a sour face, “Gross.”

“Right, that’s gross, but not the stains on your be-” Willow doesn’t get to finish her sentence as Eddie tosses the soggy bag at her. She lets out a small squeal when the coolness smacks against her chest, water droplets left behind on her chest and flying up onto her chin. 

They’re both smiling brilliantly, both reveling in their banter. Willow doesn’t actually care about the state of the trailer; Eddie doesn’t actually care that Willow’s poking fun at him for it. There’s an unspoken knowledge between them that it’s all in good fun as Willow tosses the bag back at Eddie, no real power behind it as it now smacks his knee that was dry. 

This is easy . This is nice . This moment erases the entire fake-dating scheme from both their minds. Steve Harrington, school, Jason Carver - none of those things exist. All that exists right now is Willow and Eddie, two friends laughing together. 

Eddie finally tosses the bag onto the coffee table in front of them when Willow clears her throat, “Hey, I never got to say sorry for my… you know, my stupid reaction earlier.”

“What? When you wanted to kick Jason’s ass? That wasn’t stupid,” Eddie props his sneakers up on the table beside the peas.

“No - uh - I mean…” Willow trails off, scared to admit it. She felt childish for her anxiety, “My panic attack. I’m sorry, it was so stupid and I don’t even know why I had one. Thank you for making me feel better, though.” 

Eddie softens while glancing at her, eyes shining as his lips purse, “Don’t apologize for that, Red. The entire point of anxiety is it doesn’t make any sense,” he puts a hand on her knee, and she feels goosebumps trail up her thigh, hidden by her jeans and out of his sight, “I’m here if you ever need it. That’s what friends are for, right?”

She struggles to take a deep breath until he retracts his hand finally, allowing her to finally sigh, “Right. Speaking of which, how does your face feel?” 

At its mention, Eddie reaches up to press a hesitant finger against his nose, “Eh, I’ll survive. I do know something that would make it feel better, though.” 

“Yeah? What’s that?” 

Dear god, please do not say a kiss. Don’t say a kiss. Would I kiss him right now if he suggested it? Oh my God, I would kiss him right now if he suggested it. 

Willow is so lost in her rapid thoughts, shocked with herself, that she doesn’t notice Eddie leaning down and digging into his backpack until he’s deposited a familiar book in her lap. 

It’s black, hard cover is still in the same condition it was as the day he’d snatched it off her desk, golden detailing still shining, albeit dull with age. The sparse pattern of the alternating autumn leaves and acorns across the center of the cover bring a comfort to Willow she had missed. It was her book: her annotated copy of Little Women. 

“What?” she questions, confused as she picks up the book, turning it over a few times in her hands. 

Eddie’s smile speaks volumes before he opens his mouth, “Read to me.” 

Willow’s head snaps up in his direction, mouth open and ready to argue, but one she sees his pleading eyes she’s helpless. Maybe it’s what she deserves for letting her mind wander too far moments before, letting the thought of kissing Eddie race through her thoughts. It had been ridiculous - just like his incessant need for her to read to him. 

“It’s defeating the purpose of the project if I read it to you,” she weakly argues, but her fingers are already flipping open the front cover, carefully turning the first few pages of titles and prefaces. 

“How so?”

“The point is to read it while also reading my annotations, taking someone else’s opinion into consideration and allowing it to mold your own opinion. I can’t read my annotations out loud too if I’m already just reading the story,” Willow explains as she finally opens up to the first proper page of the first chapter. 

Eddie shrugs, “Just tell me your thoughts and opinions as we go along. I can look over your annotations later.”

Willow stares a moment too long, Eddie having his head thrown towards her as he maintains his puppy dog eyes. She sighs heavily, looking down. She doesn’t catch the delight that crosses his features as he realizes he’s won when she begins to softly, ever so softly, read the first sentence out loud. 

“Chapter one, playing pilgrims,” she introduces before clearing her throat, “ ‘Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents,’ grumbled Jo, lying on the rug… ” 

---

Willow isn’t exactly sure when Eddie’s head fell to her shoulder. Sometime during the physical description of the March sisters, she noticed his weight. She hadn’t even finished the page when she had recognized his soft breathing and knew he was asleep. She tries to continue on reading for just herself, for pure entertainment factors, but it’s short-lived; she barely reads about the March sisters’ mother returning home with a letter from their father when suddenly, she’s asleep as well, her own head leaning onto Eddie’s for support. 

It could have been seconds, or minutes, or hours, later when a trilling of Eddie’s house phone causes them both to rustle. At first, neither reacted. It’s only when a second set of rings begin to sound that Eddie finally shoots up, dazed and confused as he fumbles his way to the phone. 

Willow is wide awake the moment the comforting weight of his head is gone.

“Hello?” he mumbles, sleep still tangled up in his voice. 

She shifts herself, picking up the book abandoned on her thigh. Willow has no idea what time it is, but if she’s going off the especially warm-tinged orange sunlight bleeding in through the blinds of the window in the living room, it has to be close to sunset. 

She’s taken from her thoughts when she hears Eddie speak over the phone once more, sounding far more awake now. “Woah, woah, woah. Hold on, Buckley. Jesus Christ,” he lowers the phone from his own cheek, looking over to Willow. She can see the imprint of her shoulder still on his opposite cheek as he holds out the phone nimbly to her, “It’s for you.” 

She’s up immediately, crossing the room to take the phone from Eddie from where they had it settled on their counter. “Hello?”

“I’m going to fucking kill you, Jenkins! Oh my God, you’re alive, she lives!” Robin’s shrill voice almost immediately gives her a headache, and Willow wishes she was still asleep back on the couch. “You’re so lucky! Jesus, you’re so lucky.”

“What? Why?” Willow mumbles, and she leans against the counter as she twists the cord around her fingers - a nasty habit she should break, especially when using someone else’s phone. 

She’s surprised when Eddie stays standing next to her as Robin says, “You’ve been missing for like, four hours now? Maybe five? God, I told you, Harrington!” 

Steve? 

She can hear his voice say something angrily in the background, muffled until it grows closer. “No way, no fucking way!” 

“I’m sorry, I’m so confused,” Willow pulls the phone away from her ear and covers the mic, looking confused at Eddie as she whispers, “What time is it?” 

He glances at his watch on his wrist, “4:02.”

Shit .

Willow is still recovering from their accidental nap, trying to process that she'd been asleep at least two hours. When she’d decided to ditch with Eddie, all the factors she should have taken into consideration had slipped her mind; Robin, Steve, her mother. 

She immediately brings the phone back up to her ear, guilt ripping through her as she interrupts what was surely a scalding rant from Robin, “Rob, holy shit, I’m so sorry.” 

“Yeah, I sure hope you are, Jenkins. Jesus, were you even listening to me?” 

Steve’s voice floods over the line and Willow feels her heart clench. It clenches, and clenches, and clenches - just as it always does for him. 

“Steve,” she breathes, and she can see the simple name catch Eddie’s attention, “Jesus, I’m - I didn’t think.” 

“Clearly! Robin said you ditched gym? And then she suddenly suggests we track down Eddie’s number? And she turns out right ? What the hell?” Steve’s line of questioning is almost overwhelming. 

Willow doesn’t have any defense. She’s blankly staring at the wall, focusing on not letting her heart race any faster than necessary. Her friends were worried, and for that she was appreciative, but it was still a lot. The floodgates holding back all her guilt, all of the anger she held towards herself for being so reckless, began to crack. 

She should have told Robin where she was going. She should have called Steve. She should have only ditched one or two classes, not the entire rest of the day. She shouldn’t have fallen asleep on Eddie. She shouldn’t have gone back to his trailer with him. She shouldn’t have even ditched to begin with. She should have known better - she should have done better. 

Eddie can see her panic written across her face, and she doesn’t notice her shaking until his warm palm comes down on her shoulder. His eyes are wide with a single, silent question: are you okay? 

She can’t answer him, afraid if she does she’ll burst into tears. And she can’t risk Steve hearing her cry - he’d hate himself for it. 

“Eddie got into a fight-”

“So Robin mentioned.”

“-and he was hurt, so I offered to come back to his place with him, clean him up. I figured I could be helpful with my nurse mom and everything, you know?” 

She’s lying. Her mother’s occupation hadn’t crossed her mind a single time. When she had dragged Eddie into that bathroom, the only thing on her mind was the need to be there for him. Her mom had lectured her on many occasions regarding first-aid, but Willow was lucky she had even recalled the small tip of leaning forward instead of backwards with a bleeding nose when she had been helping Eddie. 

Eddie’s hand is still on her shoulder, thumb now dragging back and forth over her shirt sleeve, bringing miniscule comfort. 

“I- what? Why?” Steve sighs exasperatedly. Willow can hear Robin saying something in the background, but can’t make out her words, “Why would you ditch classes for some guy you got partnered with for English?” 

Steve had caught her there. She didn’t have a good reason as resident goody-two-shoes. “I dunno, Harrington. I felt bad. He was fighting because Jason fucked with Henderson, you know?” 

Those words are all it takes to send Steve off on a completely different tangent, immediately questioning if Dustin was okay, what had happened, et cetera. Robin takes the phone back and Willow is relieved to hear her voice. 

“Are you at least okay, ‘Low?” 

“As good as always, Rob,” Willow’s voice cracks some, and Eddie’s thumb swipes faster in reassurance. “I haven’t gotten the chance to check on Henderson, though-”

“He was all good. He’s tough,” Eddie interrupts, and he’s close enough that Willow knows Robin hears him.

Robin sighs softly, kindly, “Thank goodness. Steve, shut up, Eddie said that Dustin is fine. You can get out of mom mode now,” Willow laughs weakly at the noise of Steve’s response, “Okay, okay. Well, as long as you’re alright… I guess we’ll let you go. Just promise to not pull a stunt like this again, Jenkins.” 

“ Yeah! Tell Munson I’ll kick his ass next time! ” Steve’s voice is booming in the background. Willow just shakes her head now, no laughter quite slipping between her smiling lips. 

“I won’t. Promise, I’m sorry for worrying you guys,” her voice is still weak, still wavering, still clouded with guilt. 

“We love you, ‘Low. See you tomorrow?” 

“I love you guys, see you tomorrow,” she whispers and finally hangs up the phone once she hears the click on Robin’s end. 

Eddie wastes no time, the moment the phone has been put down, he’s yanking her into his chest, enveloping her in a hug. 

“What are you doing?” she mumbles, words partially muted by his vest. 

“You looked sad as fuck, Red,” Eddie chuckles, but it’s so soft that his chest doesn’t even vibrate with it, “Looked like someone who could use a hug.” 

“Oh.” 

At first, she wasn't returning the hug, just enjoying the feeling of someone holding her for the first time in a while. But at his words, she loosens up, and her arms have a mind of their own when they snake up and wrap themselves around Eddie’s waist in return. For a moment, she almost wants to spill her guts to him, tell him of the pit of guilt in her stomach, let him carry this burden with her, but she bites her tongue instead. She couldn’t stand worrying others. It had always been that way, an incessant need to always put others above herself and to guarantee no one ever had to take care of her. This guilt was useless, unnecessary enough as it was for Willow to deal with by herself - Eddie didn’t need to deal with her feelings that were too big for her body right now. 

She swears he’s a mind-reader, though. His hand is smoothing out the back of her shirt against her shoulder blades when he says, “Do you want to talk about it?” 

She just shakes her head. And that’s enough. Eddie doesn’t pressure her to, but there’s a silent recognition that Willow knows now that she can come to him the day she decides she does want to talk about it all. 

“How’s your face?” she randomly mumbles, shifting her cheek to press into one of his cool pins rather than her entire face be smashed against his shirt. 

He laughs, and this time, it shakes his whole body and echos against Willow’s ear that’s pressed to him. “No complaints yet. I don’t think the peas are frozen anymore, though.” 

“Probably not. You better throw those away now, though, Munson, or I swear-”

“I will. Whatever you say, sweetheart - I’ll do it.”

Chapter Text

Eddie’s jacket was basically Willow’s now. It didn’t even smell like him in the slightest anymore, and the novelty for fellow students had worn off, as if the jacket had always been a staple in Willow’s outfits rather than Eddie's. Even Willow felt that at times, especially when she was in class as she was now, fiddling with the zipper and the sleeves as a nervous tick. 

She should be paying attention to the lesson. She should be listening to Mrs. Thompson’s comparison of the use of informal versus formal you in Spanish. 

She can’t. 

All she can think about is Eddie - how he’s doing, how he’s feeling, how his face is recovering. It had only been a day since the fight and this morning, his bruises had looked awful . Of course, when he’d asked her, she’d lied. 

“Be straight with me, Red,” he had said as he turned towards her once his van was in park at the school, “How bad do I look?” 

Her eyes traced the blooming bruise that spread across his right cheek, focused under his eye while tapering off at his cheekbone and creeping up the bridge of his nose. There was a clear crack in the middle of his bottom lip, now scabbed over but it still made Willow internally cringe in the thought of how painful it must be. 

His eyes are solemn, awaiting her answer patiently. She didn’t have the heart to be honest quite yet. “Like a badass.”

“God, you’re such a liar.” 

“Am not!” she laughed, reaching down to pick up her backpack as Eddie did the same, “Black eyes are a man’s best accessory, right?” 

“Eh, I always thought my rings were mine,” he countered, holding up a hand and wiggling his fingers so that the morning light would shine on the silver bands adorned. 

“Did you even ice it any more like I told you to after you took me home?” Willow opened her door as he cut the engine. 

He didn’t answer her until he walked around the back of the van quickly, meeting her just as she adjusted her bag onto her back. “Absolutely, I did.” 

“Now who’s the bad liar?” 

The bell rings and releases the class - therefore releasing Willow from her intruding thoughts. 

She doesn’t know why or how Eddie has burrowed himself under her skin so quickly. His occupation of her mind is endlessly infuriating, distracting her at every turn, and she’s completely helpless to it all. A month ago, the first thing on her mind would have been what plans she had with Robin that day, or if Steve was working at Scoops so she could visit with him. A month ago, Willow would feel scorned at how little she had seen of her friends since school had started. A month ago, Willow had an extra hangar in her closet, the one that now was home to the worn leather currently draped on her body. 

Willow realizes that a month ago, there had been an empty space in not just her closet, not just her thoughts, but her life - an Eddie shaped space, although she hadn’t the slightest clue of the shape before this ridiculous friendship blossomed. 

She can’t imagine starting her mornings without his obnoxiously loud music now, and the squeals of his reckless driving no longer spur on her anxiety but comfort her to some extent. Each time he tugs on her hair to get her attention in class, it grows harder to feign her annoyance at it. Every bad joke becomes harder to not laugh at, every nickname that pulls an involuntary blush out of her becoming the bane of her existence. It was annoying, wonderful, a nuisance, a miracle - it was contradictory in every sense of every word Willow has ever uttered in her life. It was the situation with Robin all over again; one day, Eddie had decided he was going to be her friend, and she never even had a chance to argue it. 

Thirteen days. It had only been thirteen days, and Eddie Munson had sunk his lovable teeth into Willow Jenkins and caused her to genuinely enjoy his friendship. 

She rolls the acceptance around in her mind as she finally walks up to her locker, spinning in her combination quickly. Once the locker is open, she’s shrugging off the leather jacket, albeit reluctantly, and placing it carefully on the top shelf. 

Chemistry was her next class, and would be her next chance to see Eddie if he didn’t ditch. Although he was doing exceptionally well in attending O’Donnell’s class, he had accumulated a few absences in Edwards’ class. 

Willow almost screams when a pair of arms wrap themselves around her shoulders from behind as she’s trading her notebooks out. 

“Boo,” the familiar voice whispers, cracking as he holds back laughter at her jump.

She doesn’t hesitate to spin in his grasp and smack Eddie with her notebook. He lets go as he throws his head back in laughter before throwing himself to lean against the locker beside hers. “Asshole.”

“Asshole? I’m just being a loving boyfriend, thank you very much.” 

“What part of creeping up on me while I’m at my locker and scaring me screams ‘loving boyfriend’ to you?” Willow scoffs and plunges back into her locker to find what she needs. Eddie is unnecessarily close, his shoulder bumping against hers with every move both of them make. 

She doesn’t mind. It was all just part of the act. She knew it, he knew it. 

“I was actually thinking the part where I carry your books to our next class did,” Eddie hums, and Willow glances over at Eddie in short-lived shock, “What? I saw Jason do it for Chrissy. I can’t let them one up us.” 

“We’re not in competition with Jason and Chrissy.” 

“Not anymore, we aren’t.” 

As if to prove his point, he silently walks back behind her and places his chin on her shoulder as his arms suddenly travel to wrap around her waist. She has to focus immensely to not react to his touch, to not jump and shiver at the feeling of him being so intimate and close to her. There’s an awful fluttering traveling from her stomach to her chest that she has to ignore.

It’s just an act. Pull yourself together, Jenkins. 

Another beat of silence passes, Willow listening to Eddie’s breaths against her ear, when she understands what he means. 

Whispers.

She can hear students passing them, whispering about them. 

“Hear that, sweetheart? We’re the talk of the town,” Eddie chuckles lowly, directly into her ear, and Willow can’t even fight off the shiver that goes down her spine. He lets go of her once more, the moment of confusing feelings passing as quickly as it was sprung onto her. 

“Actually, I think they’re whispering about how weird it is to see you actual here, at school, in the flesh,” Willow’s tone is teasing as she finally shuts her locker and recovers from his touch, arms full with her chemistry textbook and binder, “You know, not ditching like you normally do.”

“Me? Ditching?” Eddie gasps, “I would never . I’ll have you know, the only time I’ve ditched this year was when this awful red-head was simply the worst influence on me, convinced me to go home and throw around a bag of frozen peas, and then take a nap.” 

“Wow, she sounds like a menace,” Willow hums and turns to walk towards their class when Eddie snatches the books out of her arms, “Hey!”

“She is. An absolute menace, that is,” Eddie holds the books in his right arm, and throws his left arm over Willow’s shoulder. She can tell, just between the two of them, it’s a friendly embrace. But to all the prying eyes of their peers, it surely must look romantic. Willow tries to tuck herself into Eddie’s embrace as if it’s natural, as if he does it all the time. She needs to convince everyone she simply belongs there; Eddie has a spot carved out at his side just for her, perfectly fitting them together like jigsaw pieces.

“I didn’t think you were serious about carrying my stuff for me,” Willow murmurs, tilting her head back to look up at Eddie. He steers them effortlessly through the sea of students, eyes focused straight ahead. 

“Deadly serious, Red.” 

She watches how his jaw moves with the words, memorizing the outline of his nose. It’s hard to imagine that she had spent the last several years avoiding him based on senseless rumors. Sure, she had witnessed his loud-mouth firsthand on multiple occasions, but who he was towards people like Jason Carver didn’t solidify who he was in a quiet room, alone with those who cared enough to get to know him. 

It was the same way she felt about Steve. It was awfully funny, the way Willow had a habit of gravitating towards the ones with reputations large enough to cover the state of Indiana - and how neither boy actually filled their reputations out, drowning in them behind closed doors. 

“Is this going to be our new normal?” Willow asks to take her focus off his side profile and all her comparisons to Steve, finally looking forward to try and help him navigate the busy halls. It’s not the easiest task when he’s persistent on keeping them attached at the hip. 

Eddie shrugs and his hand starts to twirl a strand of her hair that’s tangled beside where his wrist is limp against her. “It can be, why? You dig it?” 

“Sure,” She would shrug if not for his weight against her shoulders, “Also, you definitely have ditched before yesterday. You’ve missed chemistry like, twice.” 

“Good thing I’m going today, then.” 

They don’t talk the rest of their walk to class. Willow is too focused on catching the tidbits of every whisper that passes them in the hall that’s clearly about them, counting up how many students stare a moment too long and how many shamelessly do double takes. This wasn’t sudden, in retrospect - people had been nosey, just the way Willow and Eddie had needed them, since the first week of school when they’d decided to sit next to each other in their shared classes. And the jacket had gotten even more attention. But this was something more, the Hawkins’ High student body was shook to its core at actually seeing Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson get the girl. It wasn’t just a rumor that a jacket was his, or that she had come to his rescue during a fight only a handful of students witnessed. 

No, he had his arm around Willow, a prize to be seen as they paraded the halls. 

The first bell hasn’t even rang by the time they walk into Edwards’ classroom, Eddie’s arm finally dropping as the teacher gives them a second glance. 

Was getting on other students’ nerves part of the plan? Absolutely, always. But getting on the teacher’s nerves with their fake romance? Not so much the plan. 

They head straight for one of the back tables. Aside from O’Donnell’s, this was the only class Willow didn’t sit within the first row for. She could blame Eddie for that. 

“We doing labs today?” Eddie questions, staring at the equipment that has been placed on each tabletop. 

Willow bites back a laugh, quirking an eyebrow at Eddie as she gives him a side eye. “You seriously don’t pay attention during class, do you?”

“When did he mention we were doing labs?” Eddie whines as she wastes no time sitting down, “Am I even dressed right for it?” 

Willow has to tilt her head back to look over his outfit. A tattered Iron Maiden t-shirt, his staple vest, ripped jeans, his white sneakers. Nothing against the labs’ dress codes that Edwards had gone over earlier in the week. “You’re fine.” 

Eddie huffs in response and takes his seat beside Willow. She’s trying to think if there’s anything either of them might be forgetting: they’re both wearing closed-toe shoes, neither are wearing glasses, neither have long sleeves that might get in the way-

Oh shit. 

Willow shoves her hand amongst her pockets, desperately seeking out a hair tie. She always keeps a spare one on her. 

“Wait, why are you doing that?” Eddie asks her when he notices her slight panic, hand coming up empty from her left pocket. 

“Doing what?”

“Diggin’ through your pockets. What did we forget? What are you looking for?” 

Willow pauses, shoving her loose strands of hand behind her ears as she looks at Eddie. It was endearing, the way he seemed so worried over her distress, considering her distress was over a fickle matter. 

“Our hair,” Willow states simply, and Eddie still looks confused, “We need to tie our hair back.” 

“Jesus, Red, you’re just worried about your hair? I thought it was going to be something awful like you suddenl-”

“Not just my hair. Our hair, genius. Part of the safety dress code is that hair has to be pulled back, especially anything past the shoulders.” 

Eddie’s mouth falls open into a small ‘oh’ of realization, looking lost in thought for a moment. When his hand comes up to pinch at his lips, Willow catches sight of his bare wrist and thinks of an idea. 

She doesn’t say anything as she grabs for his other wrist. He starts to shout in protest, capturing the attention of the students surrounding them as it mixes with the first warning bell, but Willow silences him immediately. 

“Where’s my scrunchie?” she asks, dumbfounded when she finds his wrist that has carried her scrunchie for the last week just as bare as the other. 

“Where’s my jacket?” Eddie bites back instead of answering her. 

Her panic of finding something to tie not only her hair back with, but Eddie’s hair as well, is paused as she glares at him, “In my locker, asshole. I didn’t want to risk messing it up during our lab that I actually remembered. Did you lose my scrunchie?” 

“Why do you immediately assume I lost it?”

“Did you?” 

“Well, now my answer is yes, just to piss you off.” 

Willow finally tosses Eddie’s hand out of hers, annoyed as she turns and taps one of the girls nearby. She doesn’t know her name, but clearly Willow has been kind enough to her thus far in the class that when she asks the girl for two hair ties, she’s willing to lend them to her without question. 

Once she turns back to Eddie, she’s already bundled her hair up into a messy ponytail, snapping the elastic into place. “You’re insufferable, you know that? I want my scrunchie back.” 

“Then give me another one to replace it,” Eddie shrugs, “Can I request a specific color this time, though? I think a black one would match my outfits better.” 

She opts to ignore him, placing the second hair tie on the table as she adjusts herself to better face Eddie. She motions him to turn his back to her. 

“What?” his eyebrows scrunch, lines deepening between them. 

“Turn.”

“Why?”

“God, why do you ask so many questions?” Willow complains as she places her hands gently on each of his shoulders, forcing him with a certain gentleness he has to comply with. 

“Red, don’t you dare touch my hair or-” 

Eddie doesn’t get to finish his sentence. Willow’s fingers are already running through it and he yanks away. 

“Eddie-”

“No touching my hair! Hard limit,” he snaps as he turns to look at her over his shoulder, “I’ve been working on this mane for years , Jenkins. Years!” 

“Sorry to tell you, Eds, but if you don’t let me put up your precious ‘mane’,” she uses air quotes dramatically and it leads to Eddie’s scowl deepening, “Then it’s going to catch fire and it’s going to burn away. I think you can handle me touching your hair for ten seconds to prevent that, can’t you?” 

She’s shocked when her reasoning works. He turns, albeit still pouting and crossing his arms, allowing her to thread her fingers through his curls again. 

It’s soft. A little knotted, but Willow works out the tangles with quite a bit of ease. She recalls the way the week before, he had been an absolute pest in O’Donnell’s while yanking on her hair. At the time, she had been just as irritated as he was in this moment, but now she understood - playing with other people’s hair was kind of nice.

 Eddie jerks after one particularly bad one and she can hear a groan of protest. 

“Don’t be a baby,” she teases as she finally stops messing with it, bundling it into a low ponytail, safely tucked away from any fires they may encounter today, “Have you ever braided your hair?” 

At this, Eddie turns immediately, his hair out of her reach with wide eyes, “You are not braiding my hair. Fuck off.” 

“Okay,” she bites back the smile blooming on her lips, turning her focus on Mr. Edwards at the front of the class. 

He’s giving a quick and brief lecture on the textbook concepts they’ll be evaluating during their lab, something about the states of matter. It’s not a complicated lab; Willow isn’t worried. 

At least, until she watches Eddie fumble relentlessly with the instructions. 

“Edward Munson,” she gasps when he nearly knocks one of their beakers off their table, Eddie thankfully catching the glass before it can fall to the linoleum floor and shatter. 

“How do you know my full name is Edward?” he sighs as he places the beaker back on the table. It’s still too close to the edge for Willow’s comfort, so she takes the tip of her finger to push it closer to the center of their station, “What if my government name is something like Edwin? Or Edgar? Or Eduardo -”

She cuts him off, “Okay, I get it. What’s your government name?” 

He’s grinning as she looks down at the packet that’s been handed out, writing down an answer they’ve just discovered. “I’ll tell you on one condition - you come to Hellfire again tonight.” 

“I can’t,” she fights rolling her eyes, “I have work. And even then, what a shit deal. I’m just going to start referring to you as Edgar, now. Congratulations.”

“Work? Till what time?” 

“I’m closing up with Steve, so we’ll probably get out a little after eleven,” Willow is moving on with their experiment as Eddie stares her down, nodding softly while clearly in deep thought. She completes it quickly and once she’s written down their results, she slides her packet in front of him. “Here, just copy all that down.” 

“Hey, Red,” he suddenly bumps his knees against hers as he picks up his pencil, grinning ear-to-ear. 

“I’m scared to ask what,” she says nervously, wondering why his eyes were gleaming. It’s not as if she can see the mechanics working behind his eyes - whatever brilliant idea he’s thought of that he’s so proud of has already been conducted in his mind, the dirty work done as he looks eager to share with her.

“Want a ride home from work tonight?” 

Chapter Text

For a Friday night, work is dreadfully slow. Willow has to preoccupy herself by completely reorganizing the horror section, which really devolves into Steve and her debating if they’d survive the slasher films she’s alphabetizing now. She’s currently sitting cross-legged in the aisle with stacks towering about her. 

“You can’t tell me you’d be able to survive Freddy Kruger , Jenkins! He literally kills you while you sleep!”

“Just don’t sleep! I don’t know what to tell you, Harrington!” 

“You can’t just… not sleep!” 

“I can to survive. Watch me ,” Willow reaches and snatches the movie from Steve’s hands, turning and placing it on the shelf she was working on. 

“I- No! Have you ever taken a biology class? You have to sleep, it's the most basic of human instinct,” Steve is shaking his head as he stands over Willow, keeping watch for any last minute customers during their final hour open. 

“Yeah, and I aced it. Besides, nothing ever makes sense in horror movies, stop cramping on my survival skills,” she scoffs and places a second copy of A Nightmare on Elm Street beside the first one.

He crosses his arms, hips cocked, “You’re impossible.” 

“Okay, smart ass. How would you survive Freddy?” 

“Simple - I wouldn’t. I like my sleep.” 

“What, you’re just going to give up? Like that?” Willow gasps, feeling far too offended considering this entire conversation was based on fiction and ‘what-ifs’. 

“Just like that.” 

“Steven Joseph Harrington Junior-”

“Really, my government name? Including Junior? Come on-”

“You are so lucky you have me. One day, we’re going to be in a real life horror movie, and I’m going to save your ass,” Willow finishes her sentence, and she can see a faraway look gloss over Steve’s eyes as he softly smiles at her. 

That’s when she remembers - Steve has been in a real life horror movie. Everything that Robin had told her about the mall, how Steve had been sucked into that world even before last summer. She feels sick to her stomach as she realizes she’s reminded him of the event - and he doesn’t even know that she knows she’s done this. 

Immediately, in an attempt to change the subject and reel him back into her, she says, “Hit me with the next one.” 

“Okay, okay. What about… this one?” Steve grabs a random movie off the top of a pile close to him, still not seeming fully there with her.

“Sleepaway Camp?” Willow forces herself to laugh, to try to bring back some normalcy and continue to bring Steve back from his mind, “Can’t say I’ve ever watched it but, I have this rule that I would survive any slasher film that takes place in the woods.” 

“What? Why?” Steve scrunches his nose, adorably so, flipping the movie back and forth in his hands. 

She shrugs, shelving a few more of the movies, “Why not? Half those camp killers wear masks, and I’m agile. Can you hand me that stack?” 

“How are those related?” Steve laughs heartily, grabbing the stack that Willow had motioned to that was just out of her reach. 

The memory of the night has clearly passed for him. Willow has never breathed easier. 

“Okay, hear me out: if they’re wearing masks, that handicaps them. Their vision is probably obscured at least a little , right? And then, my agility means I’ll be able to run fast and carefully away. There’s no way some freak in a ski mask is going to catch me. I’m simply built like a final girl, Harrington.” 

They’re both giggling madly, Steve unraveling as he bends over and succumbs to his laughter. “Why have you thought about this so much?” 

Willow finally stands up and brushes any lint from the carpet that sticks to her jeans, “It’s called survival of the fittest! Watch, one day you’ll go away to summer camp, and some random psycho with a knife is going to show up, and you’re going to think, ‘damn, I wish Jenkins was here’.” 

“God, I hate you so much.”

“Love you too, Stevie,” Willow makes a kissy face at Steve, and he chokes back any further laughter as he turns away from her, walking and grabbing one of their stacks of returned movies on the counter. 

It felt good to just hang out with Steve, laughing and joking like they used to at Scoops. She’d missed this. She’d missed him.

Willow makes her way back around their counter, taking a seat on a stool in front of one of their computers. She taps on the space bar a few times to wake it up, the screen bursting with light as she squints to read the time. 10:42. They still had eighteen minutes till close. 

“Hey!” Steve calls out into the empty store from the aisle he’s wondered down, “You still need a ride home after this, right?”

Willow swallows hard, heart racing a bit. “Um, no! I don’t actually.”

“No? What? You got a secret car I don’t know about, Jenkins?” His head peeks out from the romance aisle, a wrinkle forming between his brows.

She doesn’t get to reply, to ease his confusion, as the bell to the front door rings and signals a customer entering the store.

Her focus tears from Steve, voice pitching high as she puts on her best customer service smile and begins to call out, “Hello! Welcome to Family Vid-”

She stops mid sentence at the sight in front of her. It’s not just some random customer coming in at the last minute for a movie - it’s Eddie. 

“Hey, Red,” He greets her with ease, wearing his Hellfire Club shirt and a classic, soft smile.

When he first suggested picking her up, she had been riddled with worry. But he’d been able to convince her with ease. 

“Listen, Harrington is the entire point to all this. We have to play pretend in front of him at some point, Red,” he had argued with her. 

And he was right. Willow was going to have to rip off the bandaid - there were only so many times she could mention Eddie to Steve, only so many fights to be had before Steve would grow numb to the topic of discussion. She knew the next logical step was always going to be this; she needed Steve to witness them with his own two eyes. He didn’t need a daily recount of how Eddie borrowed her pencil, or how he told her she looked pretty, or how he let her borrow his jacket indefinitely - he needed to watch Eddie Munson make Willow Jenkins swoon. 

And swoon Willow did. 

She leans her palms onto the counter as Eddie makes his way to her, greeting him as flirtatiously as possible, “Hey, Munson. What are you doing here early?” 

It’s less in her words, and more in her actions. Her body language . She’s trying her hardest - she’s batting her lashes, she’s doing the awful shoulder shrug girls do to make their cleavage look bigger, she’s pretending to fight off a flirtatious smile that doesn’t even exist. All she can do is hope Steve is watching, and that she’s doing enough to spark his jealousy. 

“Oh, you know, the usual,” Eddie muses, clearly already entertained by the show Willow was putting on. 

“Causing trouble?” 

“Always. I also may have heard a rumor that the only video store in town hired the prettiest girl, and I just had to swing by and see it with my own two eyes.” 

He’s better at this than she is; his act is far more effortless, the flirtatious attitude rolling off him in waves. There’s something in his tone and the way he’s carrying himself as he finally reaches the counter that has Willow wondering how much longer she’ll have to act like she’s swooning for him before she actually is . Maybe it’s his big, brown, doe eyes. Maybe it’s the lopsided grin. Maybe it’s the way he just called her the prettiest girl in town. 

Willow isn’t sure. She doesn’t have the patience to work it out. 

She also notices that he clearly doesn’t care if they’ve captivated their intended audience - or at least, he’s pretending not to, and very well. His eyes stay trained on her while hers flicker mercilessly to watch Steve. She can see his shoulders tensing, the way he’s so stiff as he shoves a movie into its home on the shelf. They’re getting to him, and they’ve only shared a few sentences. 

“Well, what’s the verdict?” she asks a bit louder than necessary, and the look that Eddie gives her is screaming that she’s overdone it. 

Eddie gives it a moment, taking his time to look her over. She has to fight herself to not keep glancing at Steve, who only has a few more movies left to shelve. She’s so occupied with him that she doesn’t notice the way Eddie bites his lip ever so slightly, the way he sucks in his breath just a little bit deeper before answering her. 

“I think the rumors were right,” Eddie finally breathes out, a dumb grin on his lips that convinces even Willow he’s being painfully honest. 

She wonders for a moment if it’s all too real to Eddie too - if he does think she’s pretty, period. She knows she’s not the prettiest girl in town, but she can’t help but wonder if they weren’t putting on an act for Steve Harrington, would she still catch Eddie’s eyes? 

Probably not, given their track history.

She can only laugh, suddenly overwhelmed with the flirting act and letting it drop a few notches. Eddie is too good at this, his doe eyes glued to Willow’s and making her thoughts feel sticky. She was being ridiculous - Eddie Munson didn’t think about how pretty she was - he just wanted to get under Steve’s skin. It’s the reason they were doing this. It’s the reason he was perfect for the job.

Just as Steve shelves the final movie that was in his hand, and the final return they needed to put away before closing, Eddie speaks up again, “How much longer do you guys have?”

“Uh,” Willow pauses, leaning back and waking the computer up once more, “Like, ten minutes. Think you can last that long?” 

Eddie’s grin is pure trouble, “Oh, sweetheart. You take me for a minute man?” 

This type of flirting, the dirty jokes, was not a part of their agreed upon act. Willow immediately reacts on instinct, reaching out and smacking Eddie’s shoulder, “Shut up, perv. I think I’d rather walk home now.” 

Willow can’t decide if Steve’s timing is perfect or ill as he walks up on them at this exact moment. She knows they’ve been loud enough for him to hear the entire conversation, but he’s been polite in not joining in. 

“So I take it this is your secret car?” he says, waving between the two of them. His voice is surprisingly neutral, and Willow hates how disappointed she is in his lack of obvious jealousy. 

“Oh, yeah,” she grins nervously, pulling herself out of Eddie’s orbit as Steve rounds the counter to join her side, “I’m sorry for not telling you earlier.” 

“It’s all good. Just don’t want you walking home out there, Jenkins.” 

He’s still so indifferent. He’s not cracking under Willow’s or Eddie’s scrutinizing stares. 

“Hey there, Harrington,” Eddie carefully greets, acknowledging Steve’s existence for the first time since he walked in. 

This could either go very well, or very badly. And even if it goes badly, doesn’t that mean it’s technically gone very well in retrospect to their scheme? 

“Munson,” Steve plainly returns the greeting, leaning onto a counter with a bit of distance between himself and Willow. 

Goddamn it. Be mad, be angry, just be something besides unbothered, Harrington. 

The silence, the tension, is suffocating. It’s not even because of Steve - the tension is solely radiating off of Eddie and Willow. They were both so expectant of a negative reaction from Steve that they hadn’t discussed what to do if he reacted this way. 

“So,” Steve suddenly says, breaking their silence, “You still on for the movies tomorrow, right?” 

“Absolutely. Who’s turn is it to pick again?” Willow doesn’t hesitate. She wasn’t going to miss movie night for the world, considering Robin had threatened physical violence if she missed it. 

Steve shrugs, nonchalant as ever, “I think it was meant to be mine, but if you have a movie in mind…” he spreads his arms out, “Lay it on me.” 

Willow feels a smile tugging on her lips as she wastes no time, leaving Eddie and Steve to stand awkwardly alone as she returns to the aisle she just reorganized. It doesn’t even take her a full minute to find the exact movie she wants, clutching it to her chest as she excitedly bounds back to where Steve is. 

Eddie’s watching with curious eyes, but avoiding treading on the moment. She appreciates it more than he realizes as she holds the movie behind her back, smirking at Steve. “You get three guesses.” 

Steve throws his head back, groaning, “Really? You’re gonna make me guess?” 

“Always.” 

He thinks for a moment, staring into her eyes unblinking before dramatically snapping his fingers. “I got it! Camp Sleepy!” 

“ Camp Sleepy ?” she questions with a snort, “What?” 

“The movie you said you’d survive because it’s at a camp in the woods. C’mon, we just talked about it, ‘Low!” 

“Oh my god, are you meaning Sleepaway Camp?” the moment Willow corrects him, Eddie is snorting right along with her as Steve flushes with embarrassment. 

“Camp Sleepy? Jesus, Harrington,” Eddie laughs as his head shakes, his hair curtaining around his face. 

The flush brightens on Steve’s cheeks. “Whatever, that’s my guess. Am I right?” 

“Nope,” Willow grips the movie tighter, “Guess again.” 

“After that?” Steve questions, crossing his arms, “No, absolutely not. I refuse to embarrass myself again.”

“Oh, come on ,” Willow whines, leaning forward, eyes shining as she bats her lashes at Steve. 

This time, none of her actions are purposeful like they were with Eddie. 

“Just tell me!” Steve insists, a ghosting smile letting her know he was still playing along to some extent. 

“Fine, fine,” Willow sighs, “Drum roll, please!” 

When Steve doesn’t entertain her, a strangely quiet Eddie leaps into action. He wastes no time entertaining her dramatics, rings adding a soft tinkling to mingle with the smacking of his palms on their counter. He watches her with raised eyebrows and wide eyes, nodding in encouragement. 

She reveals the movie with flair from behind her back, holding it up to Steve fighting giggles. 

“Nightmare on Elm Street? Really?” Steve groans jokingly as he steals it from her, waving it around, “Haven’t you already seen this?” 

“Yes, and I know you have to, but you clearly need a refresher on how terrifying Kruger is if you are willing to simply sleep if someone were to thrust you into his universe.” 

Eddie is forgotten, an innocent observer for just a few seconds. Steve is smiling his lopsided, boyish grin, and his eyes are big and round, looking into Willow’s only until her heart starts to do flips. He mumbles an ‘I hate you’ that could so easily be mistaken for ‘I love you’ that Willow gets butterflies. 

“So what, you guys have weekly movie nights or something?” Eddie asks, finally growing uncomfortable with being forgotten.

“Sort of, Robin thinks we need to keep up to date with movies given the job,” Willow snaps out of it, turning to Eddie, heart still racing, “It’s like she’s our teacher and once a week gives us movie lessons.” 

“She just started letting us choose movies,” Steve pipes up, waving Willow’s choice for emphasis as he begins typing into the system. 

The one perk about working here was that they didn’t have to pay to rent out movies. Simply enter it as rented out in the system, and take it home. 

There’s a moment where Willow considers inviting Eddie along with them, to tell him to join them tomorrow night. She even wants to let him in on her inside joke with Steve, to insist he give his opinions on which movies he could survive. It’s not just to irritate Steve, either - she’s genuinely curious as to what he would say. 

“Hey, do you want to join tomorrow night?” 

It’s not Willow’s voice that asks this. It’s Steve’s. 

Eddie and Willow both share a shocked glance, unsure of how to proceed as Steve looks up from the computer casually. He looks between the two of them and their open mouths before questioning, “What?” 

“Nothing,” Willow laughs out nervously, wondering if she was being punked.

Did he really not care? Maybe he doesn’t, he probably doesn’t even have feelings for me. Maybe the entire fake-dating situation is all useless. Maybe Robin had found this out and that’s why she had tried to deter me. 

Willow’s mind is clouded with a ridiculous amount of thoughts and doubts when Eddie clears his throat finally, “I’d love to, if you guys will have me.” 

“Sure, man,” Steve’s grin is forced, but Willow knows now it’s not out of jealousy, “Hey, it’s eleven. You wanna grab your stuff from the back?” 

He’s talking to Willow, and she pulls free from her thoughts long enough to nod numbly. 

It’s all been useless. She threw herself into this mess for nothing . Steve Harrington never cared about her the way she craved, and he never would.

She didn’t even care how dramatic her spiral sounded, she allowed herself a pity party as she walked to the back and grabbed her bag off of one of the hooks on the wall. All this nonsense, tangling up with Eddie Munson and getting onto Jason Carver’s shitlist, derooting herself from her position of a wallflower just to get slapped in the face with this realization. 

Maybe she had always been too hopeful. Robin did try to stop her, didn’t she? 

“Ready to go?” Eddie asks her when she joins them once more. He seems a bit more tense, but she thinks nothing of it. 

“Yeah, let’s head out,” she forces on a cheery tone, one that disguised the fact that she was absolutely wallowing in self-pity at this moment. 

Steve locks up with his keys. He takes her pick for movie night with him, waving them off with a soft ‘see you guys tomorrow’ and forcing Willow to promise to call him once she gets home safely before he’s revving his engine and taking off. 

Just like that, Steve Harrington has left her alone with Eddie Munson without blinking an eye. 

“Okay, what’s your problem, pouty?” Eddie bumps her shoulder with his, walking around to the passenger side of his van and grabbing at the handle. He doesn’t open the door for her, not yet. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You look like a toddler someone stole candy from. What did we do?” Eddie stresses, tilting his head softly at her. 

Willow shrugs, blowing a long breath out from pursed lips, “It’s nothing. It’s stupid. Just take me home, yeah?” 

“No.”

“What?”

“I’m not taking you home till you tell me what’s wrong, stupid or not.” 

“No, move.”

Eddie stands his ground, not flinching when she takes a step forward and tries to pry his hand off the door handle and open it herself. 

“Seriously? Jesus Christ,” Willow huffs, having to lean her head back to meet Eddie’s hard gaze, “Okay, fine! I’m upset that Steve wasn’t more jealous. There, happy?” 

At this admission, she can feel all the negative emotions boil up her throat. Her eyes get a bit teary. 

It’s an awful feeling, realizing someone really doesn’t like you. 

“What?” Eddie asks, looking dumbfounded. 

“I’m upset because Steve clearly wasn’t jealous,” Willow flails her arms wildly, motioning to the space his car once occupied as her voice rises, “Like I told you, it’s fucking stupid . But he just- he just didn’t care! You came in and you were flirting with me and he didn’t even care, Eddie! Hell, he invited you to hang out with us tomorrow night! It’s like he’s rooting for us. You don’t root for your crush to be with someone that isn’t you - he doesn’t like me. And I…” she trails off, feeling a few tears slip down her face. 

She was embarrassed. She was overreacting, face red hot, and she was embarrassed. 

“Woah, calm down, Red,” Eddie steps forward and puts gentle hands on her shoulders. The weight stops her pacing she had begun during her speech, “That doesn’t mean he doesn’t care.” 

“Obviously it does! I mean, would you encourage the girl you like to be with someone else?” she laughs, a bitter taste in her mouth as she thinks about it even more. 

She’s thinking about it so much that she doesn’t see the flash in Eddie’s eyes. 

“Have you considered he’s just being a good friend?” Eddie offers gently. He’s doing that thing again - as his warm hands continue to press down on her shoulders to keep her in place, his thumb is tracing arches. She hates him for the shiver the action sends down her spine in a time like this, “I mean, how many times did you encourage him to talk to Wheeler?” 

“How did you know Wheeler was the girl he was hung up on?” Willow sniffles, finally taking deep breaths, focusing on Eddie’s voice and what was clearly about to be advice. 

“Lucky guess,” Eddie shrugs, “But it doesn’t matter, because the point still stands, right? He’d talk about Wheeler and you’d encourage him to tell her how he felt, right?” 

“Right.” 

“Why did you do that? Was it because you didn’t like him?”

For the first time in this entire ordeal, Willow admits to it outloud. “No, it wasn’t because of that. In fact, it was because I like him so much that I gave him that advice.” 

Eddie smiles softly at her, nodding for emphasis, “Exactly. You were putting his happiness over yours. What if he’s doing that for you right now?” 

Willow is speechless, eyes diverted to the ground because Eddie is making too much sense for her emotional self. She nearly jumps out of her skin when his hands leave her shoulders and cup her face instead, his thumbs swiping away what few obnoxious tears had broken past her lash line. 

“C’mon, Red. You can’t honestly believe that idiot isn’t kicking himself right now. I mean, look at you,” his voice is soft and low as he says this, thumbs finally finished gathering her tears. She can see his breathing stop when she finally gathers the guts to look back up at him through her lashes. 

“Look at me? Yeah, the emotional mess in a Family Video parking lot. What a catch ,” her voice drips in sarcasm, saccharine sweet as she’s rolling her eyes.

“I don’t see an emotional mess,” Eddie shrugs, moving her head ever so slightly as he hands are still holding her ever so carefully, “I see a girl who’s pretty as hell, funny as hell, smart as hell, witty as hell - I think the Devil might be jealous of you at this point. You’re a catch, Red, trust me.” 

His eyes are searching hers for something , but what that something is, she isn’t quite sure. She finds herself leaning her cheek into his palm a bit as she stares right back, frown smoothing out ever so softly. They both know that she doesn’t believe his words, not in the middle of whatever emotional tornado she’s experiencing tonight, but she doesn’t have to. For now, it is enough that they hang in the air between them. For now, it is enough to Eddie that he’s been given the chance to say them, that Willow has had the chance to hear them. 

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess, I promise I’m usually more fun,” she whispers finally, still not pulling away from his touch. 

It’s nice. It is enough. 

“Oh, trust me, I know,” he chuckles lowly, a lopsided grin making its way onto his face, “You’re especially an absolute hoot in class, when you’re throwing pencils at me and shit.” 

“Hey! You pulled my hair first! I mean, seriously, what are we, seven?” Willow defends herself, pulling back from his touch finally as she stands up straighter at his words. 

Whatever moment they had just shared has passed, locking itself away with the many others they’ve experienced but will never discuss. Another nick on Willow’s heart that belongs to him, even when she doesn’t know it yet. 

“I’m actually closer to like, eleven, thank you very much,” Eddie huffs exaggeratedly as he finally steps back and grabs the passenger door handle again. 

“Shut up,” is the only lame response Willow can come up with as she fights giggles. 

“Never,” Eddie shakes his head once, widely grinning before continuing on, “Now, c’mon. I think I have an idea to drive Harrington crazy.” 

Willow furrows her brows, “Oh no. What are we about to do?” 

“Well, since everyone apparently thinks I’m a bad boy, might as well live up to that reputation, right? What better way than to keep my ‘girlfriend’ out past curfew?” 

“I’m not following,” Willow is hesitant even as Eddie continues to smile and opens her door for her finally. 

“Harrington said to call him when you get home, right? Well, you can’t call him if you’re out all night with me,” Eddie explains, motioning for her to jump in his van. 

“I’m not having sex with you,” Willow blurts out, but immediately regrets it. Oh my fucking God. “I’m sorry, no, I-I didn’t mean it like that I just… Oh my God, I mean- Fuck, I just, is that what you’re insinuating? Oh my God. Is it?” 

Eddie can’t hold back his laughter at her embarrassment. “Jesus Christ, Red, I’m not trying to get into your pants. I mean, that might be where Harrington’s thoughts go, but I wasn’t meaning we do that.”

“Oh,” Willow’s embarrassment burns even brighter, “God, fuck. I’m sorry.”

“No worries, now get into my van.”

As Willow walks around him to hop in, she stops beside him, raising an eyebrow, “C’mon, that definitely sounds like a sexual innuendo.”

“Not a chance, Red,” he says, rolling his eyes and shoving her shoulder to force her into the seat. 

“You’re right, you’re right,” she raises his hands in defense through her laughter, “You’ve definitely got cooties or something, Munson.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” he giggles, genuinely giggles, as he leans over her and buckles her in. 

She’s too wrapped up in her laughter to physically fight him off, instead gasping, “Hey, I’m not a kid, I can do that myself.” 

“Yeah?” he teases her, tugging hard to make sure the belt is secure. 

“Yeah,” she confirms, holding her breath at how close he is now. They both pause, looking at each other as a beat passes. 

He clicks his tongue, “Well, good to know, I guess.” 

With that, he slams the door shut. She watches him do a little jog around the front of the van to make it to his side quickly, but it still gives her a few moments of quiet to herself. 

All she can think about is how happy she is that Eddie isn’t taking her straight home. It’s ridiculous, given her mental breakdown that just took place. But the mental breakdown is exactly why she’s glad - she doesn’t want to be alone, not quite yet. Being alone so soon means being able to tumble right back into her dramatic thoughts, reentering her pity party with a vengeance. 

She doesn’t need that right now - she needs a friend. She needs an Eddie Munson. 

And she has him, as he gets into the driver’s seat, beaming at her as he turns his key in the ignition. 

“Ready, doll?”

Chapter Text

“Why can’t I have a cigarette?” 

“Already told you, good girls don’t smoke.” 

“I swear to fucking God-”

“And I swear to fucking Lucifer -”

“I’m being serious, Eddie. Please? I’ve had a rough night. I’ve never smoked before, I just want to try it once. ” 

They’d been having this argument since Eddie backed his van up to the shore of Lover’s Lake, throwing open the back doors of his vans. It had a few blankets and pillows bunched into a corner back there that Eddie spread out so they could sit in the back and overlook the lake as he lit up a cigarette. 

Willow has never wanted to smoke before, but watching the way he relaxes as he exhales the smoke makes her feel like she’s missing out. 

“Smoking gives you cancer,” he says, blowing the smoke he just inhaled from what is almost a butt now away from her. 

Willow scoffs, “You’re one to talk.”

“Exactly! I should be like, on the cover of every pack of cigs as to why you shouldn’t smoke!” he puts out the butt into the ashtray by his thigh, dramatically putting on an accent Willow doesn’t recognize as he says, “Don’t smoke, or you’ll turn out like this dude - a Devil worshiper !” 

“I don’t think the cigarettes caused that one,” Willow muses, looking up at Eddie from where she’s now settled her head on his shoulder. It’s comfortable and he hasn’t made her move yet. 

“No?” 

“No, it was probably all that shitty music you listen to.”

Eddie immediately gasps, glancing down at her with an open mouth, “Take that back . We aren’t having this argument again - my music taste is heavenly, deal with it.” 

Willow simply shakes her head, giggling, “I’m not taking it back,” they go quiet for a bit and Willow watches the serenity of the lake. There’s a few sparse ripples from the summer breeze blowing over it. Something about the peacefulness of the moment makes her feel the need to get vulnerable, just in the slightest as she offers reassurance, “In all seriousness, though, I don’t think the music you listen to makes you a scary Satan worshiper, or whatever rumor Jason spreads.”

“You’re right, it was definitely the three kids I sacrificed out in these woods that makes me that,” Eddie deadpans, clearly not feeling as vulnerable as her as he fumbles with his pack of cigarettes again, pulling another one out. Willow tries to reach out to snatch the pack from him, but he’s quick to pull it away from her and give her a smack on the wrist, “Ah, ah. Careful doll, or you’ll be number four.” 

Doll . Something about that nickname gets to Willow, maybe due to how new it is to her still. Eddie had worn out Red, and tested the waters plenty with sweetheart. And while those still triggered a certain giddiness in her chest, doll struck her somewhere deeper. 

“I was trying to be nice, asshole,” she scrunches up her face as if she’s mad, but it’s no use. Eddie is smiling widely around his cigarette as he brings his lighter to its end and flicks it alight. 

He sucks on the cigarette for a while, pulling it away and breathing deeply before the smoke shoots out the corner of his mouth farthest from Willow. He does that, she notices - puts in the effort to keep her separate from the smoke. He’s also holding the cigarette in the hand not pressed against her currently. 

“Flattery doesn’t work with devil worshipers,” he says as he exhales more smoke with each word.  

She sighs dramatically. “ Clearly .”

“I’ll make you a deal,” he moves abruptly, and Willow removes her head from his shoulder. 

“Another deal?” Willow’s interest is peaked, excitement brewing at the prospect.

“Another deal, but this one expires tonight,” Eddie grins sitting cross-legged and turning towards her, “You go swimming with me in the lake, I’ll let you have a cigarette.”

Willow’s excitement immediately deflates. “What? No, I’m not swimming in the lake.” 

“Why not? You want a cigarette so bad, that’s my offer.” 

“Because it’s cold, and I don’t have a bathing suit, and-“ Willow cuts off her list of excuses at his excited grin, “Why are you smiling at me like that?”

“Who needs a bathing suit?” 

Not a moment after he’s said this, he’s suddenly jumping up and throwing himself out of the back of the van. 

He couldn’t possibly mean- 

Willow stays seated, stunned and watching him suddenly yank his shirt, shoes, and socks off. 

It’s only once she sees him fumbling with his belt as he begins to run towards the lake that she starts to follow him frantically. “Edward Munson, we are not skinny dipping!” 

“Okay, we aren’t skinny dipping!” He calls out over his shoulder. 

“Exactly, so why are you taking your clothes off ?” She stresses as she grabs up his discarded shirt, clutching it tightly. 

He drops his pants, and Willow squeaks as she reaches up to cover her eyes, “Relax, Red!” He calls out loudly over the distance between them. He’s almost reached the lakeshore, “Underwear stays on, scout’s honor!”

She removes her hand slowly, bringing it down limply to her side as she watches him in exasperation; he’s down to his boxers, and running straight into the water. He lets out a quick yell as the water sloshes against his thighs. Willow takes her time making it closer to the lake, to him, and by the time she’s no longer far enough they have to shout, he’s in the water to his shoulders. 

“Cold?” She asks him, a distinct ‘I-told-you-so’ tone lacing the word.

He shakes his head wildly, water splashing up his neck, “Nah, warm as a bath. Why don’t you find out for yourself?”

She drops his shirt she had picked up on top of his pants, making sure they stay on a dry patch of land. She’s looking at him like he’s insane - he is insane. But something in his wild smile and the way his hair is beginning to plaster against his cheeks makes the insanity contagious. 

“You’re lying,” she states plainly, but she’s already reaching down to untie her shoes. 

“Am I?”

“You are. I better get a cigarette out of this.”

“Of course - a deal’s a deal.” 

His eyes are wide and expecting once she’s barefoot, her hands trembling at the hem of her shirt. 

Was she really about to do this?

“You don’t have to-“ Eddie starts to deter her, realizing she was nervous, taking back his peer pressure, but she doesn’t give him the chance - she pulls her shirt up and lets caution fall with it to the pile of their clothes now. “Shit.”

He’s speechless. She’s shirtless and he suddenly can’t form a single word. 

“Can I negotiate up to two cigarettes?” She laughs nervously as she tugs on the fly of her pants and begins to shimmy them down, staring at the ground so he can’t see her blush. 

She’s never been this close to naked in front of a boy. 

“I…” he trails off once she starts to step into the water, leaping back once she feels just how freezing it is, “We can talk renegotiations once you’re actually in the water.” 

It’s now or never. As she stands at the edge of Lover’s Lake, in nothing but her underwear, she feels a tide shifting within her that matches the ripples surrounding Eddie. They both know it’s not about the cigarettes anymore. It’s not even about Steve anymore - her entire breakdown in the parking lot is long forgotten. This is about Eddie, for her. This is about the way he’s looking at her like no one else has ever looked at her; he’s looking at her as if he has no doubts she’ll get into the water, as if she’s the bravest person he’s ever met. Everyone always expects her apprehension. Steve and Robin are the ones to fight monsters, not Willow. Willow is the sensible one, the smart one, the control freak who never lets loose. She is too delicate to handle the real world. 

Until she met Eddie. Eddie doesn’t treat her delicately. He treats her as his equal, expecting her to wade right into the unknown at his side. In two weeks, she’s grown more than she has her entire high school career. 

“You okay there, Red? Water’s only getting warmer,” he teases her, wading out farther into the water. 

Instead of replying, she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

And then she runs.

The rocks sting her feet at first, but suddenly she’s splashing into the water and squealing, Eddie cheering her on as she quickly makes her way to the depths he’s floating in. 

“ Fuck, shit, Jesus Christ - it’s fucking cold , Munson!” 

He’s cackling at her once she’s at his side in the water. “That’s my girl. Forgot you had the mouth of a sailor.” 

“You know,” she pauses, teeth chattering as she wildly kicks her legs to stay afloat, too cold to acknowledge what he just called her, “It’s been scientifically p-proven that cursing h-helps with pain.” 

“Really? God, I love when you talk nerdy to me,” he takes a couple strides backwards, putting distance between them, “Come on, swim. It’ll warm you up.” 

She listens to him. He backstrokes away, and she follows persistently, never letting him get too far from her. She can’t stop moving, can’t let herself think too hard about what she’s doing. She’s almost skinny dipping in Lover’s Lake with Eddie Munson, her fake boyfriend. 

And she’s having fun. 

By the time they’re nearing the center of the lake, Willow has become numb to the cold. Her shivering ceases as Eddie suddenly splashes at her, giggles shaking her instead. 

“Hey! No fair!” She squeals as she splashes him back. 

He gets a mouthful of water, spitting it back up before looking at her, “Oh, it’s on, Red.” 

Suddenly, he’s splashing her rapidly, and at some point, she returns the favor. It’s a flurry of water arching back and forth between them and it’s impossible to know who’s getting more attacks in as they both become soaked. She finds herself swimming back towards shore backwards as she continues splashing, using her feet some through her laughter. 

“You’re gonna drown me!” She gasps after a particularly large wave hits her right in the face. Eddie stops immediately, looking at her with concern. 

“Shit, sorry,” he apologizes, and starts to swim towards her without malice. Right as he does this, her feet brush against the bottom of the lake again, once more in shallow water. She keeps up her injured acting, dramatically rubbing the water from her eyes. 

Just a little bit closer, she thinks. 

Once Eddie is not even a full foot from her, reaching out to make sure she’s okay, she attacks. She swings her arm and the wave it creates covers him completely. She doesn’t even attempt to hide her laughter as his hair flattens and wraps around his face. 

“Gotcha,” she laughs, slowly moving backwards, smile faltering as she waits for a reaction from Eddie.

At first, she’s scared he’s angry. He’s not saying a word, slowly moving his hands up to brush his hair from his eyes. He takes his time opening them - a neutral look remaining as his lips stay in a straight line. 

“You okay?” She says suddenly, stomach dropping at the thought that she took it too far. Maybe she got too much water up his nose, or she actually hurt him, “I’m sorry, I took it too fa-“ 

Suddenly, Eddie dunks himself underwater. 

“Eddie?” Not a second later, she suddenly feels something grab her legs. She screams. 

It’s Eddie, his arms locked around her as he lifts her up out of the water as he breaks the surface. He pauses for a moment as he’s holding her, suddenly leaning up and whispering, “Gotcha.”

She flails at first as he spins her, and she can hear his laughter, no longer afraid that he’s hurt. 

“Payback’s a bitch , Red!”

“You started this!” 

“And I’ll finish it!” 

As he says this, he drops her back into the water, dunking her under completely. Although it takes her by surprise, she doesn’t feel an ounce of fear as he keeps his arms around her waist. Within seconds after being dunked, he’s yanking her back up out of the water, arms locked around her and keeping her close to his body as she catches her breath. 

On instinct, she wraps her legs around his waist once his arms loosen on her. She doesn’t even overthink it. 

It only takes a second of them floating interlocked that way for Willow to suddenly realize their position; she can feel Eddie’s breath on her cheek, legs still tight around him as his hands lay flat on her lower back. 

She pulls her head back to look into Eddie’s eyes. Based on how he’s looking at her, he’s obviously hyper-aware of their position as well. 

“Hi,” she whispers softly, everything around them going quiet. 

“Hi,” Eddie echoes back to her, just as softly. 

For a moment, it’s just them.

She’s dizzy, not from him spinning her, but by the proximity. Her skin is burning beneath the water where his fingers are gripping her, and she wonders if it’s possible that they’ll leave bruises despite how absolutely gentle and delicately he’s placed them on her - she just needs physical proof that this was real. A reminder that this moment did happen. If this was a movie, she’s convinced he would kiss her. And she’s convinced that if he did, she’d be okay with it - even a step further, she’d kiss him back. 

But it isn’t a movie. 

They don’t kiss, even when they’re so close her nose bumps his. Even when she can count his eyelashes, and the water drops on the said eyelashes. They don’t kiss, because this isn’t a movie, and they aren’t really dating. 

“I think I won,” she finally says to break the moment, to break whatever trance they had each other in. 

Eddie immediately shakes his head and some of the water flies off of his hair and hits Willow, “Absolutely not. I demand a rematch.” 

“Really? You want to get your ass kicked by a girl, again ? You need to be beat twice by little old me?” She taunts him, leaning back further and creating more and more space between them. 

“I always do - it’d be an honor, Miss Jenkins.” 

—

She doesn’t know how long they spend in the lake. At some point, they stop splashing each other and simply swim in circles. Eddie excitedly learns how to do a flip and forces Willow to watch him through his ten failed attempts just to witness the single successful one. She makes sure he knows that she can do a perfect handstand in the water, quite effortlessly at that, but she is choosing not to because ‘the floor of a lake is probably disgusting’ and she refuses to put her hands on it. 

When they finally leave the water, they sit in the back of Eddie’s van again, this time with their legs dangling. 

“I can’t believe you made me do that,” Willow sighs, leaning over as she attempts to wring out her hair over the rocks beneath them.

“I didn’t make you do shit ,” Eddie defends himself as he watches her carefully. After a second, he begins to mimic her with his own hair.

They’re both still mostly naked. Eddie had grabbed their pile of clothes on their way out, but he’d tossed them further up into the van once they decided to sit and air-dry. 

“Ask anyone - you peer pressured me. Speaking of which, where’s my cigarette?” She brings her feet up into the van, sitting criss-cross and turning in Eddie’s direction with raised eyebrows, “Actually, where’s both of my cigarettes? We negotiated up to two, remember?” 

Eddie cackles as he leans back, digging into his jean pocket for a moment before producing his pack of cigarettes. “We actually didn’t negotiate, but a deal’s a deal. You get one cigarette.” 

He pinches it carefully between his fingers by the side meant to be lit, holding it out to her. She just stares at first, not expecting to have won this argument by how staunch Eddie had been against her smoking. 

“Well?” He waves it in her face. 

She finally reaches out and gingerly grabs the filtered side. “Oh, um - thanks.” 

“What? Didn’t think I’m good on my word?” 

“I dunno. You really didn’t seem like you wanted me to smoke.” 

At this, his face hardens ever so slightly. If she had blinked, she would’ve missed the change. “I don’t. But, call me a cool mom, I guess - if you’re going to do it, which I know you will since you’re so fucking stubborn, I want you to do it with me .” 

She nods, fighting back giggles at his mom analogy, knowing he was serious. 

“You know, you could just politely ask me not to smoke,” she offers as she rotates the cigarette around in her fingers, looking at it curiously. 

“And you’d tell me no, not so politely.” 

“I think the words I would say would be, and I quote, ‘fuck off’.” 

They both laugh. Willow still makes no move to put the cigarette in her mouth. 

Eddie has pulled out a cigarette for himself and produced a lighter, flicking it to light his up. He pauses before he does so, looking at her carefully, “You know, I can help you light it.” 

“Oh!” Willow shakes her head, embarrassed, “No, no. It’s fine. I mean, I can light it myself.” 

“Okay.”

His hand is steady as he holds out the lighter to her. She doesn’t take it immediately and he smiles, cocking one eyebrow. 

Do I really want to do this? 

“Red, you don’t have to, you know that, right?” 

For some reason, Eddie’s reassurance is all it takes. She snatches the lighter from him immediately, flicking as she had watched him do several times, and brings it up to the cigarette as she places it in her mouth. She watches the flame dance for a few seconds. 

Nothing. 

She tries again, but still sighs with frustration as the cigarette doesn’t light. 

“Here,” Eddie says suddenly, scooting closer to her and taking the lighter from her, “You have to suck on it as you light it.”

“What? Suck on it?” She scrunches her nose, talking around the cigarette hanging from her mouth. 

“Yeah, like a straw,” Eddie nods, placing his lit cigarette in his mouth and motioning for her to do as he instructed. 

She does, and he flicks the lighter, leaning in dangerously close to her and cupping his hand around the end of the cigarette as the flame engulfs it. He’s staring directly into her eyes, surely just for encouragement and nothing more. But it’s distracting - so distracting that Willow doesn’t realize that the black smoke has begun to curl into her mouth and throat until it’s too late. 

The moment he pulls away the lighter, Willow has to reach out and yank the cigarette from her mouth, immediately falling victim to a terrible coughing fit. Her lungs burn . She can smell the smoke, the smoke coming from her mouth and not Eddie’s, as it’s forced out of her body. Tears spring to her eyes. 

How the fuck is this fun? 

Eddie reaches behind her, rubbing her back softly as he laughs a bit, “Hey, hey, hey. Don’t die on me. Just breathe. Yeah, just like that - you’re good. Deep breaths, Red.” 

“That,” another cough, “was god awful .” 

She’s still coughing, albeit not as roughly as at first, and trying to focus on sucking in deep breaths like he had encouraged. 

“Here, give me that,” he reaches out and takes the cigarette she was holding awkwardly in her hand, leaning forward to look her in her eyes as she leans forward miserably, eyes still watering painfully, “Now do you see why I didn’t want you to? Not worth it.” 

She nods vigorously in agreement, “Yeah, definitely not worth it,” she’s beginning to feel a bit lightheaded from her coughing, resting her forehead on her palms of her hands as she props her arms up on her knees. Her voice is hoarse as she asks him, “Jesus Christ, how do you constantly smoke? That’s miserable.” 

“Years of practice,” his voice is light, but when she shifts her eyes to look at his face, he still looks genuinely concerned for her. His hand hasn’t left her back. 

She doesn’t want it to, either. 

“You should quit,” she suggests quietly, “It really is bad for you.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes, “You take one drag, and suddenly you’re an expert.” 

“Well, no. I have a nurse for a mom. If she found out you had corrupted me like this… well, what would you like on your tombstone?” 

Eddie laughs at this, and she can feel his hand lifting off her back. She doesn’t know what’s gotten into her as she suddenly sits up straighter, following his hand to keep it against her bare skin. 

Fuck. 

She had been so distracted by her failed smoking attempt she hadn’t realized Eddie had been touching her bare skin. The realization curls around her mind the same way the smoke had done her lungs, blackening out every other possible thought she might have needed to have in that moment - his skin was on her skin, and she was on fire. 

Eddie seemingly doesn’t even notice. “I suppose ‘parents’ worst nightmare’ would be fitting, wouldn’t it?” 

“No,” Willow says immediately, looking at him, “I don’t think you’re my mom’s worst nightmare. She always just told me to surround myself with nice people, people who make me happy. You make the cut,” as she says this, practically baring her soul as his skin still burns hers, he swallows hard. He’s clearly uncomfortable under the compliment, and she regrets it falling from her lips, “Sorry, that was cheesy. Forget I said that - you’re definitely a nightmare. I’ll put in the tombstone order now-“ 

“Cheesy can be good,” he finally says, eyes boring into hers. 

“Cheesy is only good when we’re talking about pizza,” she jokes, bumping her shoulder against his. He’s close enough she hardly has to shift to accomplish this. 

“Yeah,” he sighs, and his eyes haven’t left hers. Between the skin contact and the eye contact, Willow is sure she’s bursting into flames. All that’s going to be left by Eddie’s side at Lover’s Lake will be a pile of ashes, and he’ll be the one ordering a tombstone. It’ll says ‘Here lies Willow: death by unfamiliar feelings caused by fake boyfriend. Yes, fake. Not real.’. “Hey, for what it’s worth? You’re pretty nice too.” 

She doesn’t know what to say to this, and after a few beats of her silence, his hand finally retreats. There’s a tingle of sore disappointment across her bare back that she decides to pass off as chills, as being cold because they just went swimming in the lake and now they’re sitting in their underwear at the back of Eddie’s van. Definitely not because she misses his warmth. It could never be that.

“We should probably get dressed,” she whispers. Why is she whispering? She doesn’t know, unsure if it’s because she’s still warm from his gaze and knows the excuse of being cold is bullshit, or if she’s scared to break the moment. She’s not ready to put this moment in that box yet, to add it to the collection of shattered moments that belong to just them. She wants to live in it, even if for just another microsecond. 

She wants to enjoy it for what it is, not what it will become. 

“Yeah, probably,” he keeps his voice quiet to match her volume, and moves first. If the moment was tangible, Willow’s knuckles would be white from the grip she has on it; she refuses to let it go, even as his eyes leave hers to pass her her clothes. 

They get dressed in silence. She keeps her back to him, and he does the same. It makes no sense for them to grow shy now, after spending at least an hour in front of each other mostly bare, but they both feel the embarrassment tugging on their heart strings. Only once they’re both dressed, Willow wrapped up in her work shirt and Eddie in his Hellfire shirt, does Eddie face her once more. They’re standing at the end of his van, bated breaths and all. She still doesn’t have the nerve to break the moment. The box is wide open, she knows it, but she still has the white knuckles. 

Eddie breaks it, a wide grin as he jokes, “So, you still want that second cigarette?”  

Chapter Text

Willow gasps as warm lips make their way down her neck, trailing against her collarbones and pausing to suck harshly. She finds her hands instinctively reaching up, fingers tangling in long, curly hair without a second thought. 

“Something wrong, sweetheart?” his voice laughs lowly against her ear. It sends shivers down her spine relentlessly, makes her fingertips press even harsher into his scalp as her back arches off the bed to press herself closer to him. She feebly shakes her head, but that’s not enough for him, “Words, doll . I need your words.” 

“Nothing’s wrong, just please… fuck,” her hands travel from being tangled in his hair to the back of his neck, trying to force his lips back onto her, “Please touch me, Eddie. Please.” 

He complies at her begging, lips returning to their attack, his teeth nipping at her sensitive skin. Immediately, she whines, and his tongue laps at the spot with remorse. Her back is arching once more. Even with her nude chest pressed to his, she needs more. She needs him to touch her.

“Eddie, stop teasing, please,” she sighs, eyes fluttering close despite her words and her head rolling back, giving him more access. 

“Not teasing, just taking my time,” he hums against her skin. His mouth finally travels lower, lips pursing as he stops at her breasts, “Don’t wanna rush it. Wanna remember this moment, doll.” 

The nickname shoots straight for her gut, fluttering about and only worsening the ache between her legs. She glances down for a moment, just in time to catch his warm, brown eyes glimmering up at her as his lips wrap around her nipple. 

Willow wakes up with a start. Her eyes snap open and she’s gasping as if she’s just run a marathon, breathless as the images of her dream continue to flood her brain. 

Fuck.

She sits up far too quickly, getting dizzy but still wasting no time to throw her comforter off of her body. She’s hot - she’s far too hot. 

What the hell was that?

She couldn’t begin to process her dream if she wanted to try. The haunting image of Eddie, lips pretty and pursed and pink from kissing her, is still flashing behind her eyelids every time she lazily blinks. The feeling of his breath on her skin, his hands gripping her hips, being so close to her - the ache between her legs from her dream was still very real, torturous to her now as she stood and stretched. Friends don’t dream about friends that way. Friends don’t dream about how it would feel to have bruises littering their neck from each other, how it would feel to have bare skin on bare skin. The entire scenario was making her blush and all she could do was rake her hands over her face and groan loudly into her palms out of frustration. It made her skin crawl, not in an uncomfortable way, but instead in an unfathomable one. 

She’d never had a wet dream. 

Maybe it was from her lack of real-life experience, but most of the time, her dreams were nonsensical. Silly and light-hearted, easy to forget. 

Willow couldn’t forget the look in his eyes. 

“What… what are you doing to me, Munson?” she whimpers in frustration, sighing harshly and glaring down at her bed she’d been occupying far too comfortably moments before. Her eyes widen when she does. As if the dream wasn’t bad enough, the Universe couldn’t give her a break; her pillow was stained a blotchy pink, and the edge of her fluffy comforter she’d had gripped up to her chin was, too. 

Son of a bitch- 

She knew last night that going to bed with wet hair was a bad idea, but had held weak hopes that she wouldn’t wake up to the murder scene in front of her. The exact situation her mother had warned her of when her hair disaster first occurred had happened. She knows she should be pulling the sheets off, that she should grab the bleach and rectify her bad decisions, but she didn’t. 

No, the only thing on Willow Jenkins' mind was Eddie Munson. 

His voice, the way it enunciated that goddamn nickname - doll. He’d used it incessantly last night. Even after their swim, they’d spent far too long with each other, lounging casually in the back of Eddie’s van once they’d gotten dressed again. Part of the reason had been due to a game of twenty questions they’d indulged in, exchanging facts such as Eddie’s middle name being Theodore and Willow’s favorite cereal being cinnamon toast crunch, but the other half of the reason had been Eddie dropping quite the bomb on Willow. 

“So, doll… this may come as no surprise but, I fucked up again.” 

Eddie’s voice broke the comfortable silence that he and Willow had lulled into. Her eyes had been closed, feeling far too happy to cuddle into the musty blankets that Eddie provided in his van. It was too easy - his presence was practically a lullaby for Willow, washing her with a calmness that was too hard to fight off when her eyelids began to feel heavy. 

“Again?” she murmured, turning on her side and looking at the boy sitting up beside her. 

“Again,” he confirmed, looking down at her nervously, “I may or may not have told Steve that I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend tonight.” 

Willow’s heart dropped.

“What?”

“I’m sorry, I just - I knew we were going to have to do it eventually, and he was kind of being a dick while we were alone, so my idiot brain figured it was good timing-” 

“When were you two even alone?” Willow asked as she started to pull herself up, face contorted in confusion. As she wracked her brain, she couldn’t figure out a moment that would have allowed the two to be cruel towards each other. She had been there the entire night, hadn’t she? 

Eddie smiled sheepishly. “Uh, when you went to grab your stuff from the back.” 

Shit. 

Willow’s brain had forgotten that moment, considering she had been wrapped up in her own spiral. But it made sense - Eddie had been tense when she returned. Steve had been short in his farewell to her. 

“Fuck,” she sighed, now fully sat up beside Eddie, “I… damn it. I mean, you’re right. We were going to have to pull off the bandaid, just… Right before movie night?” 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie insisted again, “I know. It was stupid. I’m an idiot.”

Willow’s brain didn’t have time to think before the words tumbled from her mouth, “You’re not an idiot. Or maybe you are, but now you’re my idiot. We’ll figure it out.”

Last night, Willow didn’t have the heart to be mad at Eddie. She’d simply insisted over and over that it was fine, then concocting a plan as to what the boundaries would now be for movie night. Eddie had suggested kissing, and Willow had shot it down immediately.

After her unfortunate dream, she knew that definitely couldn’t happen. 

Plus, it hadn’t gone over her head, the way Eddie had reacted when she’d referred to him as “my idiot”. It was probably identical to the way she reacted when he called her doll. But she didn’t have time to linger on that, to overanalyze and pull apart last night’s scenes. 

She needed to call Robin. No, scratch that, she needed to see Robin. 

Her body is on autopilot as it navigates to her kitchen and she grabs the phone, dialing her best friend’s number unnecessarily roughly. Steve had put them in charge of snacks, anyways, so they needed to meet up and go to the store at some point today to begin with. 

The line only has to ring twice before Robin picks up. 

“Buckley household, what can we do for you?” Robin’s voice chimes, and it only calms Willow a fraction. She’s still reeling - from the night before, from the dream, from the impending doom of Eddie joining movie night, from her stained sheets. 

Everything was too much. She needs her best friend. “It’s Willow, how quickly can you meet me at Denny’s?” 

—

Willow opts to walk to the diner. Even though it’s across town, she convinces herself that it’ll be good - she needs time to think. Time to organize her thoughts and settle her ever-racing heart. She starts to regret it halfway there, and her mind is still a mess when she arrives and sees Robin’s bike sloppily chained up at the front of the restaurant.

“Finally! Did you walk here?” Robin calls to her as she approaches the booth that she’d secured for them in the back of the restaurant. One of the regular waitresses had greeted her with a brief wave, not stopping Willow as she’d barreled towards Robin’s comforting figure. 

“Yes, unimportant,” Willow blurts out, throwing herself into the opposite of the booth far too roughly, “Buckley, I’m a fucking mess.” 

“We already knew that, but what happened?” Robin replies softly, pushing a water Willow’s way. 

Willow leans on her elbows, threading her fingers through her hair. She freezes the motion pretty quickly when she remembers the way her fingers had done the same to Eddie’s hair in her dream. “Oh, God. So much. I’ve fucked up so royally. Jesus christ.” 

“ What happened?” Robin stresses, leaning across the table and yanking Willow’s hands down from where they paused, “C’mon, tell your dear old friend-” 

“It’s official. Eddie made it official. Like, he told Steve I’m his girlfriend. Or at least, he said he was going to ask me last night, and obviously I would say yes. Which means I’m officially out as fake-dating Eddie. I mean, I’ve been out as his girlfriend to his friends, but not to Steve,” once the floodgates open, Willow can’t stop her rambling, “And then I had this stupid dream, and we went to Lover’s Lake last night, and God, I had this stupid dream, Rob-”

“Okay, okay. Slow down. One fuck up at a time. Eddie told Steve he was asking you to be his girlfriend last night?” Robin questions, rubbing her hands comfortingly over Willow’s wrists. 

Willow takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “Yeah. He… he picked me up from work, and he said that Steve was an ass to him while I was in the back, so he just… yeah.” 

“Jesus.”

“Yeah, that’s a mess. But my dream , Buckley! Fuck, it was… I’m… fuck!” Willow’s shouts gain the attention of a few other patrons in the diner, mostly older people, but she can’t even begin to scratch the surface of her embarrassment. 

Robin quirks up an eyebrow at her, “Wait, you’re telling me making it ‘official’ with Eddie isn’t more important than a dream? What, did you dream you were the president of the United States? I better have been your vice president.” 

“No,” Willow laughs bitterly, pausing and sipping on her water. Her eyes flutter shut, and she’s seeing big, brown ones again, pink lips wrapped around her- “It was a wet dream. About Eddie.” 

She can’t stop the flush from admitting it out-loud. She’s mindful to keep her voice down at these words. 

“Holy shit, what?” Robin gasps, not taking the same care as Willow to be quiet. Willow smacks the hands that had been trying to comfort her in retaliation, and Robin pulls them back and throws them up defensively, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry,” her voice drops to a whisper, and she leans over the table to the point in which she’s almost face-to-face with Willow, “I just… a wet dream? About Eddie? ” 

Willow nods, “A wet dream. About Eddie.” 

“Well, don’t be shy. What happened?”

“I- don’t be a pervert. It.. he just… ugh,” Willow throws her head down against the table with a severe lack of grace, deciding to mumble her next sentence, “He was sucking my stupid neck off, Buckley. And I liked it. God, I liked it so much.” 

Robin snorts, and Willow turns her face up enough to prop herself up on just her chin with a glare. It’s uncomfortable, but she doesn’t care. Her face is so hot, it’s surely bursting into flames. 

“It’s not funny,” she grumbles.

“Oh, it’s very funny. Look how flustered you are, ‘Low!” 

“I’m not flustered.”

“Bullshit. Your cheeks are darker than your hair.” 

“I stained my sheets,” Willow changes the subject quickly. 

“Ew,” Robin scrunches her nose, “I didn’t need to know that you have it that bad for Munson. Impressive, but still-”

Willow interrupts her, shaking her head so hard that her neck aches, “ No . No, no, no. Not that kind of stain. Jesus christ. I meant with my hair, get your mind out of the gutter.” 

“Hey, you’re the one who comes running in here, screaming about how you had a dirty dream,” Robin shrugs and starts to sip on her water, giving Willow a moment to compose herself. She hates that her friend had a point, and that she was probably being dramatic, but the entire ordeal felt monumental to her. She didn’t like Eddie that way. She couldn’t like Eddie that way. Robin has sucked down nearly half her glass when she starts up again, “So, you guys went to Lover’s Lake?” 

Willow can see the suggestive, playful look. She immediately puts a stop to it, “Yes, but I’m going to stop you right there - nothing really happened. We went swimming, but nothing else. I just… Fuck , Buckley,” Willow groans and is rubbing her face with her hands again. The entire situation felt like a mess, sticky and uncomfortable, uncharted territory for Willow. She had never even had a dream like that for Steve , and she’d been crushing on him for over a year. 

That was a hard reality. Eddie Munson had officially breached a part of Willow’s mind that not even Steve Harrington had reached.

“Hey, hey,” Robin’s hands are on Willow’s again, “It’s okay. You’re going to be just fine, I promise. I just… wow. A lot to take in, you know?” 

“Tell me about it,” Willow mumbles into her palm. Realization then hits her that Robin wasn’t aware of Steve’s overly generous invite to Eddie, “Steve invited Eddie to movie night, by the way. I didn’t even get the chance, he did it himself. How fucked is that?” 

“Pretty fucked,” Robin hums, “But he’s just being supportive, I’m sure. You play the role of love-sick puppy very well on our rides home from school.” 

“I do not,” Willow scoffs. 

“You so do. Did Eddie accept?” Willow simply nods, hands falling down against the plastic of the booth seat beneath her thighs, “Wow. Okay. Did you guys… talk about it? At the lake?” 

“Yeah. I mean, Eddie suggested we kiss in front of Steve but-”

“ What? ” Robin’s shrill voice gains the attention of others again, and Willow finally has found enough of her mind to shush her, “Sorry, I just- he what? ”

“Exactly!” Willow nods, pinching her eyes shut, “I’ve never kissed anyone, Robs, so I told him no. What have I gotten myself into?”

Willow had never been more grateful for Robin than at this moment. Despite the entire situation feeling like some terrible spiral, something awful and out of Willow’s control, she still had the girl in front of her. Everything could feel so temporary, the world ever-changing and moving so fast it made Willow ill, but Robin Buckley being by her side wouldn’t change. The world could be ending , and she knew Robin would still hold her hand through it all. 

“A mess. A terrible, terrible mess,” Robin sighs, shaking her head at Willow, “Good thing you have me, huh?”

Willow doesn’t reply, instead opting to grab Robin’s soothing hands and squeeze them, looking up at her best friend. Her grip is tight with no plans of letting go. 

She needed something normal, just like this. Something to ground her. 

“Well, look. I’m obviously no love doctor, but I can be one hell of a wing-man. Or wing-woman, I guess. What’s the plan for tonight?” 

Willow opens her mouth to explain everything her and Eddie had discussed the night before, but the waitress comes over to take their order. Both girls simply recite their usual orders as quickly as possible, and the moment they’re alone again, Willow is back to filling Robin in. 

“We agreed we need to sit together. Be cuddly. Just… I don’t know, stereotypical, disgusting couple. Sickenly sweet,” Willow picks at her nail beds as she goes over all this, reminiscing on how her cheeks had burned when she’d had this conversation with Eddie. 

Her cheeks were red. Terribly, terribly red. Bright and crimson, and she told herself that Eddie would let her blame the heat of the night. 

“C’mon, Red. What do you mean you’ve never done any of this before?” Eddie whined, trying to get her to look at him as she burrowed into her embarrassment. 

“I think you know exactly what I mean,” Willow laughed nervously, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. The entire situation was painful for her. 

Eddie flung himself down, head hitting one of the pillows propped up behind him with a soft hmph, “I really don’t. What are we talking here? I know you’ve held hands, considering we’ve held hands-”

“Yeah, and you were the first boy I’ve ever done that with.”

“Really?” Eddie looked up at her with genuine shock, “Wow, I feel lucky.” 

“You should.”

“So it’s safe to assume that you’ve never kissed anyone?” Eddie didn’t hold back, barreling right into the topic that Willow so desperately wanted to avoid, “I’m taking your blush as a yes.” 

“I’m not blushing,” she snapped, glaring down at him and his cheesy grin. She convinced herself it’s the night air that’s stifling, not the way his eyes flicker to her lips as he licked his own. 

“You’re still a terrible liar,” his voice was soft, almost raspy, probably from all the cigarettes he had smoked. She was almost positive he’d finished off his pack. 

She hadn’t noticed the way she was leaning down closer to him until her hair nearly brushed his cheek. 

“And red’s still your favorite color,” she mused, voice just as soft as his had been, recalling their earlier game of questions in which he had admitted the fact with embarrassment. 

His eyes never left hers, boring into her irises and taking her breath away. “That it is.” 

“Earth to Willow?” Robin snaps in front of her face, and she’s torn from the memory. 

“Sorry,” she apologizes when the waitress brings them their food, placing their plates in front of them with a gentle smile. They mumble their thanks.

“Where’d you go? Thinking about your loverboy?” Robin teases, taking her time to unravel her silverware they’d been provided. 

Willow shrugs, no energy left to lie, “Yeah, I guess. I’m just… I’m nervous, I don’t know. I’ve never done any of this. I’m feeling like I’m in a little over my head right now, Robs.” 

“That you are, my friend,” Robin doesn’t bluff, doesn’t even attempt to provide any false comfort. And that in itself is enough for Willow, “But hey, you just focus on playing house with Munson tonight. Leave dingus to me. By the end of the night, you’ll see that I was right all along - the fake-dating plan was so crazy, it’ll work. Just watch.” 

“Nuh uh, I haven’t forgotten you trying to deter me once I got the balls to ask Eddie on the first day of school.” 

“What can I say? Second-hand embarrassment is very real. I wasn’t sure how he’d react,” Robin should say this with all the confidence in the world. It should feel like friendly banter, easy-going and unimportant. 

It doesn’t.

Willow can see the way Robin falters as she says it, the way she won’t meet Willow’s eyes. Her chest pangs; her best friend is lying to her. She can’t imagine what Robin is lying about, especially in a moment like this, but she is. 

Robin Buckley knows something that Willow doesn’t. 

And Willow doesn’t have the guts to call her out on it, letting it go as she prepares to dig into her food. 

Chapter Text

Seven o’clock rolls around far too quickly. Willow loses track of time easily after her conversation with Robin at the diner, frustrations and anxieties placed on a backburner as they went to the store and picked up snacks for the night. Between Robin’s ridiculous riding of the shopping cart that nearly gets them kicked out, countless arguments over what snacks would be appropriate (it took Willow nearly ten minutes to pry frozen bagel bites out of Robin’s hands), and one too many dad jokes in the chip aisle, they’d finally made it back to Willow’s house right as Steve parked his BMW in her driveway. 

“Did you guys walk to the store? I could have given a ride if you asked,” he calls out over his door as Robin maneuvers her bike up the driveway. A few bags of the groceries they’d got were hanging off the handlebars. 

Willow shrugs, slinging a bag in his direction as she passes him, “We didn’t have a phone. We survived.”

“Hardly!” Robin yells over her shoulder, and Willow holds back her laughter, “Take note, dingus: Willow has shit balance.” 

“Huh?” he questions, looking to Willow for an explanation. She has to reign herself in before she can explain. 

“We, uh, tried to have me sit on her handlebars at some point,” she embarrassingly admits with her friends on her heels as she unlocks her front door, “Let’s just say I won’t be trying that again.”

“That makes two of us,” Robin huffs as she shoves into the cool living room. She wastes no time making a beeline for the kitchen with the bags of snacks. Steve and Willow simply watch her, taking their time entering the house. They share a look, Willow rolling her eyes and Steve smirking. 

They managed to get everything they could think of; microwaveable popcorn, chips, candy, and even two-liters of both Sprite and Coca-Cola. It had made the trip back fairly miserable for the two girls, both of them complaining about their aching shoulders and taking one too many breaks, but Willow was glad now as they stood around her kitchen counter and unloaded. 

“Did you really need both sour and normal gummy worms?” Steve asks them, grabbing a few packs of the candy they’d snagged. 

Willow snatches them from him before he can continue to judge them, “We couldn’t agree on which kind.”

“Everyone knows sour is best,” he says, oblivious to the argument he nearly initiates once more between them. 

“That’s what I said!” Willow shouts, giving Robin an ‘I-told-you-so’ look immediately. 

“Yeah, but sour hurts my mouth,” Robin whines, shoving the sodas into Willow’s fridge. “Hey, speaking of my mouth hurting, did Willow tell you what she and loverboy did last night?” 

Willow freezes immediately, her playful looks at Robin becoming a hard glare immediately. She didn’t want to talk about Eddie to Steve yet. Really, she wanted to avoid the topic altogether unless Steve was the one to bring it up.

Clearly, Steve is just as uncomfortable with the topic as he clears his throat, “Oh, uh, no. You never called last night, though.” 

“Sorry about that,” Willow apologizes half-heartedly, unable to meet Steve’s concerned glance, “It was a… late night.” 

Steve doesn’t respond, scrunching his face up from the opposite side of her counter, and Willow prepares to defend herself. He clearly thought something far dirtier than what was reality. 

“It wasn’t that kind of late night,” she assures him despite Robin giving her a soft kick to her shin. She doesn’t care if she needed to convince Steve that her and Eddie were an item - he knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t do that with someone so quickly. Not after two weeks of knowing them. “He just- he just asked me to be his girlfriend.” 

The statement hangs in the air, Robin still bustling around the kitchen as Steve deflates. Willow tries not to read into it too much, the same as she had done her dream; he couldn’t be upset because Willow was now ‘officially off the market’, according to Robin, but simply because of the implications that her getting into a relationship meant. It meant less time for their friendship, less time for just the three of them. It meant change. That had to be the driving force for the droop in his shoulders. 

“What did you say?” Steve asks her, but he clearly already knows the answer. 

It doesn’t stop Willow from hesitating before she says it aloud. “I said yes.” 

Robin gives a small yelp of something between excitement and congratulations as she suddenly appears at Willow’s side, constricting Willow in an embrace awkwardly around her shoulders as her chin comes down on top of it, clearly looking at Steve, “They just grow up so fast, don’t they, Stevie?” 

It’s tense. Steve becomes a statue, and Willow is once more reminded why she’s grateful for Robin. When she had promised to be her wing-woman tonight, both regarding Eddie and Steve, she’d clearly meant it. Even though that meant stirring unpleasant feelings. 

“Wow,” Steve whispers, eyes fluttering down to the ground, swallowing hard before putting on a grin that Willow could tell was fake. It was convincing, especially to less prying eyes, Willow could give him that, “That’s, uh- That’s great. Guess we’ll be seeing a lot more of Munson, huh?” 

Willow nods curtly, eyes unmoving from Steve’s figure. She wills him silently to look up at her, to smile a genuine smile at her, anything . He was resembling a wounded puppy right now and her heart almost couldn’t take it. 

“We can only hope. Or a lot less of a hot-shot redhead here,” Robin pipes up, unrelenting in maintaining a cheery attitude despite her friends, “You haven’t even heard the best part, though.” 

“Oh?” Steve’s eyes finally lift, and Willow feels ridiculous as she musters an apologetic smile to him. 

Why does she feel so guilty? 

“Tell him where he took you, ‘Low.” 

Robin was pushing it now. But Willow had asked that of her, had practically begged that of her. She knew she didn’t have the will to push herself.

Steve’s eyes are trained on her, and only her, awaiting her answer. “He took me to Lover’s Lake.” 

His eyebrows shoot up at this revelation, “Lover’s Lake? I… didn’t take him for the type.” 

“What’s that mean?” Willow asks softly, no malice in her voice. 

“Well, you know the reputation of that place. You didn’t… you stood your ground, right? Didn’t make any bad decisions?” Steve struggles to make his point, clearly trying to avoid insinuating anything rude.

“No, I didn’t make any bad decisions,” Willow says as Robin finally lets go of her, turning to grab one of the bags of popcorn, “I wasn’t even thinking about the reputation, he was being a perfect gentleman.” 

There’s no need for her final comment, no need to defend Eddie. But she does it as naturally as she breathes the air around them - she refuses to leave room for assumptions. Eddie Munson had been the perfect gentleman. If anyone was being particularly rebellious, acting out of character and having sinful thoughts, it was Willow. Not that she’d ever admit that to Steve, and especially not to Eddie. 

“Good, good,” Steve nods, eyes glazing over as they do when he runs off into his own mind. Willow only glances over her shoulder to see the moment happen, and fights her urge to pull him back. 

It was part of the plan. A plan that Willow was starting to regret more and more by the minute. 

“We should probably start setting the movie up. What time is loverboy showing up?” Robin interrupts just as Willow starts the microwave, a soft popping filling the atmosphere along with the mouth-watering scent of butter. 

“Uh,” Willow glances around her kitchen before she catches sight of the clock, “Probably here in like, ten minutes.” 

Steve is wordless as he heads back into the living room. Immediately, Willow turns and smacks Robin on her shoulder. 

“Ow,” Robin whispers, facing Willow wildly, “What was that for?”

“Did you have to lay it on so thick?” Willow whispers back urgently. 

Robin nods, seeming very secure in how the interaction went, “If you want to get under his skin, we do. Remember that for when Munson is here.” 

At the mention of Eddie’s presence, Willow’s palms begin to sweat. Her nerves about the entire interaction were back - so much could potentially go wrong tonight. Not only that, but her dream is still stubbornly lingering in the back of her mind. She isn’t quite sure she’ll be able to look Eddie in his eyes right now without blushing an embarrassing amount. 

“What’s that look for?” Robin interrogates as she piles all of the candy into one bag to take to the living room. 

“What look?”

“You’re blushing again. Oh my God, are you thinking about your dream? Gross.” 

“Am not!” Willow’s voice finally rises, but it cracks as well, blowing Willow’s defense. Robin can only cackle as Willow is left huffing, glowing cheeks and shaking knees. 

I’m never living that dream down.

The popcorn finishes and the beeping immediately causes Willow to jump, on edge now more than ever. Everything that could possibly go wrong tonight is swirling around in her mind, every possibility jumbling together just to make Willow nearly spiral into a panic attack. She chews on her lip so hard she’s sure it’s going to be bleeding by the time she lets go. 

She can’t believe she’s thinking this, but she wishes Eddie would hurry up and finally get here. 

Even in her embarrassment from her private dream, she knows just the act of him being here will make her feel better. Obviously, she’s anxious about him being here with her, with her friends, infiltrating yet another aspect of her life without care. But Eddie Munson has a way with calming Willow down, fried nerves and all, with just a single glance. It had quickly become one of her favorite things about him - from her panic attack in the bathroom after his fight to mornings where all she can do is rant about her latest math assignment. Brown eyes would meet hers, shining with reassurance as his mouth formed all the right words, and every anxiety that had troubled her would melt away. 

She’s so deep in her thoughts of Eddie that she almost doesn’t notice that she’s managed to fill two bowls full of popcorn. Robin had persisted that they would ensure that Willow and Eddie sat together tonight, leaving no room nor chance for Steve to interfere with that. She hated to admit it, but Robin was a damn good wing-woman. 

The sound of the doorbell scares Willow.

“Willow! Door!” Robin’s voice chases her from the living room. She doesn’t waste any time carrying the popcorn with her, entering to take in the scene in front of her. Robin has draped herself over her couch with extensive comfort as Steve sits criss-crossed on the floor in front of her TV, fiddling with her VHS player. 

“Remember,” she shakily begins to warn, sitting both bowls of popcorn down on the coffee table, “You guys need to play nice.”

“When am I ever not nice?” Robin bites back, Steve humming in agreement as his focus remains on the TV remote now. 

Willow gives a pointed glare as a few hesitant knocks sound from the door, “I can name a few times, Buckley.” 

Steve snorts at this, finally tearing his attention away from setting up the movie and looking up at Willow. He’s nodding in agreement passionately, opening his mouth to probably bring up one of those times, when the doorbell rings again. 

“As much as I support this Robin slander, you should get the door,” he says instead of whatever his original thought was. 

Willow is already crossing the room, though, far too eager to see the metalhead on the other side of the door. 

Here goes nothing. This will either go terribly right, or terribly wrong. 

She flings the door open with unnecessary force, a seemingly nervous Eddie standing on the other side. His hair is messy, as always, framing his face as her porch light illuminates him from behind. For a moment, he looks like a knight in shining armor. All of Willow’s anxieties take a backseat as his big, brown eyes shine and look into hers, lighting up as he smiles. 

“Hey, Red.” 

“Eddie,” she breathes, immediately stepping to the side and waving him in, “Hey.” 

“Hi,” he greets her softly for a second time, and it’s then she can see he truly is just as nervous as she is. She was in her element - these were her friends, originally her plans. She’d forgotten Eddie was the one who probably felt like an intruder, who had reason to be driving himself crazy with possibilities.

She’d say that he seemed slightly out of place as he stood in the threshold of her home once again, awkwardly shifting his weight between his feet, but he fits right in for Willow. It’s the same comfort as Robin spreading out on her bed after they’ve been studying, or Steve interrupting breakfast with her mother - he belongs there. 

“Just on time,” Willow smiles, launching herself into a reassuring mode, “Make yourself at home, Munson.” 

He looks around the living room, at Robin on the couch and Steve on the ground, both of which are staring right back at him. Clearly, for them, Eddie does look out of place. 

“Well look at that,” Steve finally muses as if he wasn’t the one who invited him, head tilted back to get a good look, “Eddie Munson.” 

“In the flesh,” Eddie bites back without hesitating. But once the playful words leave his lips, Willow can see a flash of both hesitation and worry cross his features.

Robin leaves no room for him to overthink it as a smile spreads across her face. “Welcome to the party!” 

Eddie’s shoulders slump as he relaxes a bit. Willow takes the opportunity to grab his bicep softly, all but dragging him over to the couch, “Don’t be shy, sit. We’re just finishing setting up. I promise Robin won’t bite.” 

“You don’t know that,” Robin teases right as Willow forces Eddie to sit down on the opposite end of the couch from her. 

Eddie turns his head, looking at her with wide, questioning eyes. 

“She’s joking,” Willow immediately assures, “Aren’t you?” 

Robin just shrugs. Willow immediately reaches out to her and smacks her on the back of her head. 

“Hey, do you guys have any more batteries for this thing?” Steve asks suddenly, waving the remote to the VCR in the air without glancing back at Willow. 

“What size?” 

“You don’t know what size battery your remote takes, Jenkins?” 

“No, I don’t. Considering I’ve never had to change them before. I’m taking this as a sign that we need to start having movie nights at Rob’s,” Willow walks over to where Steve is sitting on the ground, dropping to her knees, “Let me see it.” 

Steve finally looks at her, taking his time to put the remote in her outstretched hand. Once he does, she immediately flips it over and starts to fiddle with the back panel, attempting to pry it open to see the batteries already in it. 

“Nope! Not happening,” Robin calls out from the couch behind them, “You know my mom would never be okay with it.”

“Oh, come on, your mom would cream herself at the opportunity to make us snacks,” Steve teases, leaning back and looking over at their friend as Willow continues to attempt to pry the remote open. 

“Why can’t we have them at Steve’s?” Robin suggests. 

“Because he lives in the middle of nowhere, and I’m not in the mood to end up starring in a real-life slasher film,” Willow mumbles softly in her intense focus, still struggling. 

Her hands are shaking, making it impossible to get a decent grip. 

“My house is not in the middle of nowhere. Stop saying that just because I have trees in my yard.” 

“Where is your nearest neighbor?” Willow persists, taking a break from the remote and looking up at him with a pointed look. 

“We have privacy. Sue us.” 

“Privacy is great until some psycho breaks free, and the headline of the news the next morning is ‘four dead bodies of high schoolers found in Harrington mansion’!” Robin joins in with the teasing. Willow finds her heart fawning over the inclusion of Eddie, however little it was - the acceptance as part of the group.

“I’m not a high schooler,” Steve corrects defensively. 

“You act like one,” Robin bites back. 

Willow looks between her two friends, rolling her eyes before finally looking at a peculiarly silent Eddie. He’s sitting with his hands in his lap, fiddling with his rings. She figures it’s a nervous habit at this point, but it mesmerizes her all the same. She makes a mental note to ask him more about them, where he got them and what they mean, next time they're alone.

 It takes a moment of her staring before he suddenly looks up, meeting her gaze. She musters her softest smile, trying to channel as much comfort across the room as she is capable of. She tunes out the arguing continuing between Robin and Steve. The moment Eddie’s eyes met hers, they became background noise - it was just Willow and Eddie right now, in the middle of her living room, both nervous wrecks. 

You good? She mouths to him across the room. He simply gives her a thumbs up.

“Need me to open it for you?” Steve suddenly asks Willow with a smirk, breaking the moment between Eddie and Willow as he raises an eyebrow and holds his hand out.

“Nope.”

“You sure?” 

Willow’s tongue pokes out slightly as she finally looks down from Eddie and starts to struggle once more, “I’m positive.” 

“Alright,” Steve drawls out, leaning back on his hands and watching her carefully.