DANCING WITH MYSELF • EDDIE MUNSON

three

A large, silver ring-clad hand slammed onto the prom admission table, making Edith Layne jolt upright in her chair. Her hand flew to the sweetheart neckline of her dress, clutching it in shock and disgust, as her green eyes fluttered up to meet the intense brown-eyed stare of Eddie Munson.

Oh dear, she thought, and forced herself to smile. "Can I help you?"

The corner of Eddie's mouth twitched upwards, forming a benign smirk. "Hi," he said. "I need to buy a prom ticket."

A prom ticket? Edith thought, tilting her head in bewilderment. Is this some kind of joke?

It was impossible to picture Eddie "The Freak" Munson at prom... impossible and, frankly, a little frightening. Prom was a very elegant affair and Eddie, with his wild hair and unkempt appearance, simply didn't belong at such a sophisticated event. Edith was flattered by his attempt to dress himself up (the suit jacket was a size too small, but at least it was clean), but the jacket alone did little to soften Eddie's image. The ripped jeans, the dirty sneakers, not to mention all the satanic imagery on his shirt—Edith felt the urge to perform the sign of the cross over herself and clap her hands together in prayer—it just wasn't proper prom attire.

But that was beside the problem.

"Um... well, actually..." Edith's fingertips crawled to the thick black frames of her glasses, pushing them a little higher up her button nose. "I'm sorry, but there seems to be a small misunderstanding. You see, we're not selling tickets here tonight. We're just collecting them for admission. See?"

Edith gestured toward her co-worker, Brittany Wirth, who was accepting tickets (HAWKINS HIGH: AN ENCHANTED EVENING, 1986 SENIOR PROM) from a junior-and-senior couple. The senior boy stood awkwardly in his light blue tux, while his date waited impatiently, crossing her arms and tapping her foot, in a rose-pink ruffled nightmare. She caught Eddie staring at her (well, she assumed he was staring; in truth, he was simply glancing in her general direction) and immediately squirmed away and huddled closer to her date.

Eddie, unaffected, turned back to Edith. "Okay... so how am I supposed to get a ticket, then?"

"I'm not quite sure," said Edith, "but—"

"There's really no other way for me to get inside?"

"No, I'm very sorry. Now if you'll—"

"I can't just pop in there for like ten minutes?"

"I'm sorry, no."

And that's when Brittany Wirth butted in. She leaned onto her elbows and said in a melodic, cloyingly sweet voice, "Listen, freak, we're not letting you in without a ticket, okay? Prom tickets were sold well in advance so that we could get a proper headcount for dining and seating arrangements."

"Well, I don't need to eat," Eddie said, "and I'll just stand the whole time. How 'bout that?"

Brittany raised her hand, demanding his silence. "Look, if you wanted a ticket, you should've bought one while they were on sale. You had plenty of time to do so. We were selling them at lunch for like a month. What the hell were you doing that whole time?"

"Well, I wasn't planning on coming to prom," Eddie admitted, now feeling a little embarrassed. "This was kind of a last-minute thing."

"Well, there you go." Brittany Wirth smiled a hard, tight-lipped smile. "Now, please step aside. You're holding up the line." She made a dismissive motion with her hand, then leaned over to smile at the couple behind him. "Hi there! I can help you over here."

The couple tried to approach, but Eddie stepped in front of them.

"Look, I don't think you understand," he said to Brittany. "I really need to get in there."