✓ | flow ( eddie munson )

twelve. shivering

veda henderson

      "Are you serious?" I gape, looking around at the old boat house Eddie had dragged me to. He placed his hands on his hips, a dorky smile on his face as he nodded to himself. "I thought you said you knew a place, not a shack. Who's boat house even is this?"

   "All answers will come in due time, Vey. For now, we have bigger things to worry about like oh--I don't know, Chrissy Cunninghams' jaw shattering on my ceiling!" He shrieks, turning to ignore me when I roll my eyes at him. The events leading up to our arrival were still fresh, probably occurring about an hour and a half ago. 

   "What was she doing at your trailer anyway, Munson?" I raise my eyebrows, nudging him with my elbow. Yes, the topic may be inappropriate or insensitive or whatever it is--but, it's better than facing the reality. I had already dealt with stuff like this before, Eddie hasn't and he would be delicate right now. 

   It might be selfish to say but a part of me is glad I wasn't the only one to see it. 

   "Did I hurt your feelings by giving drugs to someone else? Must be truly heartbreaking," He exclaimed sarcastically, smiling at me as he pressed both his palms against his chest. He kept eye contact with me as he allowed his body to fall to the side, his foot catching him before he slightly stumbled up the hill and towards the run-down hideout he claimed. 

   "Oh, how could you ever understand, Edward? Maybe only Jason Carver could understand my pain when he finds out his girlfriend died cheating on him," I claim sarcastically, pushing past him once he skidded to a stop in his tracks. 

   "Hey, wow," He calls, grabbing my shoulders and spinning me around. My smile drops when I see his concerned face. As well as my smile, my mood drops the longer I think about how he only cut me off from drugs to sleep with a cheerleader. Not that it was any of my business, but it still stung a little. "I was not hooking up with Chrissy Cunningham. Firstly, she was a claimed woman--god rest her soul--and secondly, I'm offended you take me as the type that's into preppy types,"

   He smiles, trying to lighten the mood once again by swinging his hands slowly in an attempt to mimic pom poms. I laugh it off, turning my back to him and walking through the threshold of the shack just as a bolt of lightning snapped loudly outside. "What's your type then, Muffin? Hmm? Comic book nerds and bed-wetters?"

   "Ha-ha. Why? Trying to find a common interest? I'm afraid there is none when it comes to our types then, Vey," He claps back, turning to hastily drop down onto a barrel of hay. I return his dry laugh, using my weak arms to pull myself onto a wooden table facing his own makeshift throne. He smiles, hitting away the air as if I had been nagging him before he continues, "Okay fine, stop begging me, Veda. I like confident yet damaged girls,"

   I laugh, "Well, you're really setting yourself up there Munson," 

   "Your turn," He gestures to me, holding his fist up to rest his chin on it. 

   "Honestly, no clue. Probably into assholes or something," I shrug, leaning my arms back to lean backwards on my palms and looking up at the roof. I heard the hay underneath him shuffle around before I felt the warmth of his body beside me. His legs were swinging back and forth, making the table rock slightly as he looked up at the cracked roof and the stars in between the gaps. 

   The thought of a broken ceiling made me gulp, looking away to see Eddie must have had the same thought as he was just turning to look at me. We looked at each for a bit, the vision playing in our minds simultaneously, something I could see in the glint of his eyes or maybe that was just a reflection of mine.