like you always did.
i could always feel it.
the minute eddie munson stepped foot into his home across the street from mine,
my muscles relaxed and my heart would ease back into regular rhythm.
i had always just known.
and it seems even so long apart,
that hasn't changed.
just before i drifted off completely,
i felt the relief bloom in my chest,
granting me easy slumber the moment i knew he was safe.
"clover girl? you awake?"
the voice shakes me awake,
forcing me from my dream of glory.
"barely,"
i mumble through the sleep in my throat.
"breakfast is ready whenever you want it."
"okay, thanks."
i lay my head back down on the pillow in an attempt to dream away again,
but his presence is still lingering in my room.
i turn back to face my father and ask,
"is everything okay?"
"yes! i just...i wondered if you'd want to do something today? just you and me?"
how could i deny those hopeful eyes?
i remember when my father once looked at me like i was his entire world.
it seems that hasn't changed either,
despite the severing of our relationship.
"yeah...yeah, let's do something,"
i say in the most enthusiastic voice i can manage.
i try not to shed light on how awkward i fear this will be.
"great! just let me know when you're ready."
my father beams radiantly under my agreement to spend time with him.
i can't help but to return that smile.
has it always been that infectious?
when i think back,
i don't remember him ever smiling this brightly.
"nice jacket, by the way. did you bring it from home?"
i look down to see eddie's presence is still here,
even when he, himself, is not.
i have to bite my lip to keep from smiling too largely and giving away the secret of my nightly rendezvous.
"yes,"
i answer with a nod.
home,
technically,
was never georgia.
home was never hawkins, either.
home has always been eddie munson and i believe it will always be that way.
my father acknowledges it with a nod then leaves my room.
i then climb from my bed and head into the bathroom where my routine is completed in it's entirety.
then i dress myself accordingly.
taking into consideration the heat outside and the walking that is always, always done around hawkins,
i keep it simple.
my father is sitting at the table alone when i come down,
accompanied by nothing more than a newspaper.
i let myself stand back for a moment longer.
this is what ten years has looked like for my father.
breakfast out on the table with nobody to reach for it but himself.
sitting alone in the silence,
letting the news of the world fill up his empty mind.
did he hear the echo of my laughter in the morning when he sat down?
was it deja vu,
to sit in his designated chair but have no wife to lean over and greet with a kiss?
was it devastating?
my chest aches at the thought of him sitting in this house all alone,
when my mother was left with the entire package:
grandparents,
a new husband,
a replacement father for a disappointing daughter.
before i can let the pains of my childhood resurface and bring me to my knees,
i move my legs forward and breathe in shakily.
"i made your favorite. it is still your favorite, right?"
i nod my head and give him an appreciative smile while i sit across from him,
the same way i did when i was eight.
i think my father realizes this too.
because when his eyes land on me,
i see them glazed over with some sort of paternal agony.
would i even know what that looks like?
i'm not sure.
but if i had to guess...
i'd say it's this look here.
i want to say something more,
maybe apologize for what happened.
maybe i can even offer some affection,
though i doubt it would do him any good.
so what more can i do but suffer in this silence,
letting thoughts storm over in my mind but let nothing slip past the guard of my teeth?
"growing up, i was the youngest of twelve siblings."
this information that's shattered the quiet tension between us coupled with the fact my father is discussing his childhood with me makes my eyes widen.
"all of us used to crowd around the table in the morning in a hurry to eat. it was a damn pig sty in that house,"
he says with a laugh that seems rather sad.
"there was hardly enough by the time i woke up. you know me...can't get up before nine."
i don't voice the fact that i didn't know that,
so i simply nod my head with a humorless laugh.
"which is why i cook so much now, i guess. it drove your mother insane how big our dinners were for three. our fridge was always stocked with leftovers."
i remember my mother always mumbling under her breath as she uncapped a tupperware full of my fathers food,
shoving it in the microwave for my after school snack.
i'd always thought she was bothered by my request to eat,
even after she'd kiss my head and say,
"i hope it's delicious, my beautiful clover."
not that she was upset my father made an excess amount of food the night before.
i had never considered that because to me,
it never posed as an issue.
there was always food to eat and that was enough to keep me content.
"so, don't feel like you have to eat all this. i'll pack it up for later,"
he says now in reference to the breakfast food set before us.
"i'm sorry."
is all i can manage to say.
my father shakes his head.
"you have nothing to be sorry for. not a thing."
and though i try to eat,
it seems i've lost my appetite again.
i force it down anyways,
only chewing and swallowing.
then when i'm finished,
he flashes me a simple smile and says,
"so...what do you want to do today? i was thinking we'd make a day of it. maybe go to the town over and visit the aquarium like we used to."
i inhale deeply and try to ground myself.
no matter how overwhelming this may be,
i agree to it.
hasn't he been through enough?
all he's asking for is some time with his estranged daughter.
how could i deny him this?
so right after i've cleaned off my plate,
my father and i load into the car and make way to the next town over.
silence fills the air until i can't take it anymore.
it seems he can't either,
because he slips in a cassette tape and waits for it to being playing.
heavy metal fills the speakers,
making me wince with the suddenness of it.
"what is this?"
how he manages to hear me over this blasting music,
i don't know.
"it's dio! i saw it on your jacket."
"it was ed-"
i stop myself from correcting him and have to actively fight against cursing myself out.
i take the noise and lean back into my seat,
glad that we don't have to fill the silence with small talk anymore.
the longer the song goes on though,
the wider a smile breaks across my lips.
my father,
the stoic son of twelve siblings,
listening to this?
it's surprising.
then when he finally lowers the music,
i ask him,
"do you remember eddie munson?"
"of course i do. he still lives in hawkins."
the image of them that damned day of my departure,
where my father leveled with eddie to show him i was leaving,
flashes across my mind and makes me flinch.
"have you two talked since?"
my fathers lips draw into a flat line,
as though he's debating what to say next.
"not really."
"i heard he moved in with his uncle not too long after everything happened."
i don't explicitly say "since the divorce" because i can hardly form the syllables of that word alone,
much less in front of my affected father.
"yeah, he did."
is that all he has to offer?
"why?"
"i don't know."
there is more to this than either one of them are letting on.
so i must decide:
do i press my father for more or simply leave it?
out of respect for eddie's privacy,
i drop it.
"have you two met up again?"
he asks now.
i know there is a right or wrong answer to this,
so i test it by saying,
"only seen him around town. but i'd like to hang with him soon."
my father clears his throat and shrugs softly.
i've remembered how to read eddie,
but i've lost the sense to gauge my fathers reactions.
is it a fair trade?
"be careful, clover...please."
"with eddie?"
"just in general. you were too young then for this town to care much about what you did. but you're older now, you're perfect bait for their gossip. even when you think you're alone, you're not."
i turn my attention back out of the window to see the passing scenery,
all while soaking in his words.
my mother always cursed hawkins for being too small,
but this small?
i had never remembered it this way.
it's funny how things stretch and expand when you're older;
this perfect quaint town that was once my sanctuary is slowly becoming suffocating.
"i want you to have fun but i just want you to be safe, too."
i nod my head.
"i will."
the silence extends over us for a moment,
until he begins talking again,
"eddie and steve—you remember steve?—graduated this year, too. i went to their ceremony."
"why?"
i ask,
rather stunned by this confession.
he hadn't even been to my own graduation,
only sent some money in the mail,
but had attended theirs?
granted,
it was much closer and more accessible,
but that doesn't help lessen this hurt.
"my boss' kid was graduating."
i don't say anything.
i want to ask who his boss is and where he works,
but i don't.
i can't get anything up past this disappointment drying in my throat.
"...you know i would have been there if i could have been, clover girl."
how is he able to read me so easily?
do i wear my emotions so visibly?
"why couldn't you come?"
my father doesn't answer.
he keeps his eyes on the road and away from my hardened stare.
i silently beg him to say something,
and i am left disappointed.
"why won't you tell me?"
i ask in a gentle whisper.
"because it's not important. i just want you to know that if things had been different, i would have been in the front row for you."
i swallow my sadness and straighten up to ask with every ounce of conviction,
"are you seeing someone who has, like, a child? is that why you couldn't come?"
i wait for the hurt to rise in his eyes,
for him to look at me with a stern finger pointed my way.
maybe i'll wait for him to answer with the nod of his head,
telling me he has a daughter who's better at answering his phone calls and writing him back.
but all he does is shake his head and say,
"no, clover, i'm not seeing anyone."
and that's the end of it.
i push my indignation to the side for now.
i'll hash it over when i'm alone and free to,
not when i'm forced to spend the entire day with my father.
so instead of shutting down like i usually might,
i take in a few deep breaths and let it free from my chest.
then we're at the aquarium before i know it.
my father watches from afar as i lay curious hands to the display cases,
wondering what it might be like to be these aquatic animals.
what it might be like to have a taste of freedom,
only to be entrapped in an enclosure for the rest of your life.
i don't listen to the epiphany begging to be analyzed.
i only move forward with the animals instead.
i stop once more at the jellyfish and watch them glide through the water.
"did you know they're ninety-eight percent water?"
my father asks me,
his eyes glued on them as well.
"yes...everybody knows that."
i hear him chuckle.
"then did you know they're over six-hundred million years old? older than dinosaurs."
"how do you know this?"
my father turns to me when he says,
"i'm a marine biology professor."
i don't think i can take anymore shock today.
"since when? why didn't i know this?"
"i don't know...i've been working at the university of indiana for maybe nine years now."
so much has happened after i left.
i was childish to believe this place would stand still in time.
nothing ever does;
malleable hawkins has been taken into the hands of time and turned into something nearly unrecognizable.
including my own father.the day came to an end after the aquarium.
we got ice cream and talked small talk,
then headed back home for the evening.
i still had an entire saturday to spend so of course i sought eddie out.
i needed someone to brighten my spirits after they'd been left dampened.
i know my father is trying,
but i am too.
and it's unbelievably hard.
i need relief.
so...where to find him?
i let my feet guide me;
my heart pulses directions,
as if i instinctively know where he is.
unfortunately,
my eddie-senses have failed me this once.
i'm standing in the supply store only to find no eddie.
"sorry, excuse me."
i step out of the way for a boy who's trying to get past me.
when he does,
he does a double take then gifts me a grin.
"are you new around here?"
"technically, i guess."
he nods his head then extends his hand out for me to take in greeting.
"i'm reed."
"y/n,"
i say as i take his hand into mine to shake.
he repeats my name like he might be trying it on for size then gives me a look of admiration.
"beautiful name for a beautiful girl."
"thank you."
i laugh in the way i do when i've been flattered.
reed drops my hand and lets it swing by my side when he says,
"we should get together some time. give you a real look of hawkins."
"yeah, totally."
words are spilling from my lips though i have little knowledge of what i'm saying.
i'm rather nervous under this boys stare and his honeyed words are only making my heart race quicker.
"keep an eye out for me, y/n,"
reed says as he walks away,
leaving me with a wink.
i wave goodbye then hurry to rush out of the store,
where i have an excuse to be this feverish.
"my wonderful garlic clove."
i turn my head to see eddie munson coming down the sidewalk now.
all of my previous worry ebbs away and becomes replaced with excitement.
"bunson burner!"
he and i laugh together like we've done so many times before and begin our walk together.
i swing my hands nervously as i ask,
"do you know a reed?"
eddie groans when he says,
"unfortunately."
"he's not that bad, is he?"
i giggle into my hand at his expression.
"yes, he is. they all are. they're all douchebags."
i suppose if i had grown up in this cramped town,
i might be annoyed with everyone too.
this thought leads me to ask eddie,
"hey...do you think if i would've stayed, we'd still be friends now?"
eddie is silent for a moment,
then he answers with,
"i'd like to say yeah, but i don't think so. this town has a cruel way of pulling people apart."
as soon as the words leave his lips,
he stops walking to face me completely.
"but, you didn't grow up here. you were salvaged from this wreck of a town and given an actual chance. and we're still friends so, that counts for something, right?"
i can't help but to let a smile play against my lips.
"yeah, it does."
eddie returns my smile then walks along with me until we're back in the woods like we'd been just yesterday afternoon.
i tell eddie what i did today in full detail and watch as his facial expressions change to match with what i've said.
he's attentive and shows he's listening without having to say a word,
and for that i adore him even more.
when we take our seat at the bench,
i continue talking,
"i just feel like there's something i don't know, though. like he's hiding something from me. like, did you even know he was a professor?"
"well, maybe he is hiding something. and yes, i did know."
the words are so blunt,
but i know they mean no harm coming from eddie.
so i make no show of reacting.
i pretend it doesn't bother me that eddie knows more about my kin than i could ever wish to.
"but you only just got here. give it some time and maybe he'll tell you what it is before the summer ends."
i make a noise of disgust and say,
"i don't want the summer to end."
he smiles that boyish smile i love so much,
making me quite sheepish in return.
"don't worry, this town will always be here."
"but will you be here?"
eddie tugs on a lock of his hair as he thinks up a reply.
then finally,
he speaks,
"if it means you'd come back again, yeah...i'd be here forever."
i reach for his hand across the splintered wood because it feels right to,
and i hold onto it tightly.
"i'd come back for you."
"i think that's the nicest thing anyones said to me in years, garlic clove."
i don't open my mouth to tell him that i've never belonged like i do in his company.
mostly because i'm stunned by his glossy eyes that radiate nothing but purity.
what i wouldn't give to be by his side for eternity.
then there's the sound of branches snapping under the weight of someone,
or something,
heavy.
my father wasn't lying when he told me i'm never alone in this town,
even when i think i am.
YOU ARE READING
our last summer. (e.m)
Fanfiction"you're full of secrets." "aren't we all?" eddie tenderly casts an embrace against my cheeks, where his thumbs caresses the skin there to ask, "will you tell me all of them?" "if you'd listen." "to you? i don't think i'd ever stop." - after a decade...