This Year is My Year

The Walk Home

Everyone watched us walk through the party, and I felt pride bloom through my chest.

Not only was Y/N leaving with Eddie the Freak, but she was wearing his jacket.

Some people stopped her to say goodbye, but she kept my hand in hers the whole time. She squeezed it when Steve appeared at the top of the stairs and waved weakly at him. He didn't even offer a smile before walking away, I assume to go back to Robin.

We stepped out to the street, giggling at nothing in particular, leaning into one another. My body pulsed with heat as I realized how surreal moment was. Walking her home. Holding hands. Laughing close. Her in my jacket.

She was in my jacket.

I started towards her house – I knew the way well, having dropped Dustin off after picking him up from Steve's many times. She tugged my arm, bringing me out of my thoughts.

"Why are you walking so fast? Got somewhere to be, Mr. Munson?"

I grinned, enjoying the extra time. I slowed my pace. We strolled in silence, still arm in arm. My arms were starting to get cold, but there was no way I was going to say anything. I looked at her, sensing she was thinking something.

"Quarter for your thoughts, Ms. Henderson?" She grinned, not looking at me, remembering her joke from the night I gave her a ride home.

"I've upped my prices."

"Damn," I laughed, "you sound like me whenever I have to sell to the jocks."

I winced. I didn't know if she knew I sold drugs or how she felt about it. She turned to me quizzically.

"And what do you sell, Eddie Munson?"

I was nervous, tried to cover my uncomfortableness with a joke.

"Would you believe me if I said my body?" I tried to flirt, nudging her. She continued to look at me, wanting the real answer. I was panicked.

"I'm waiting, Mr. Munson." I cringed. I hated that I cared so much what she thought about me.

"You know," I stammered, "what you would expect a metalhead-loser-freak to sell. Drugs and the like."

I couldn't bear to look at her. She was staring at me.

"Don't call yourself that." Her voice was soft and sad. I looked at her, surprised. That was what she was upset about? "Well, I guess the metalhead part is fine."

"The whole drug dealer part is okay, though?"

She shrugged, looking ahead.

"I mean, it's not ideal," she offered, "But if you're safe and not stupid," she nudged me at this part, "it's not my place to care."

My chest ached. I wanted it to be her place to care. We continued in silence.

"I'm also in a band," I offered, lamely, trying impress her with my other forms of money-making endeavors. I mentally kicked myself – I just wanted her to like me and want to be with me.

She turned her head, grinning.

"I assume you guys play a lot of power ballads?"

I belly laughed at her comment and she grinned with pride at making me laugh. I pulled her closer, dropping her hand and wrapping my arm around her waist. She copied suit.

I think the alcohol was giving me way more courage than normal.

"We stick to more of the carefully curated metal band genre," I joked back, "But I'm sure I could convince the guys to learn some."

"What are you guys called?"

"'Corroded Coffin'."

She stopped dead in her tracks, still holding onto me. I was confused.

"Eddie Munson, were you in the Hawkins Middle School Talent show in the sixth grade?"

I felt the color flood to my cheeks – not because of her question, but because of how close our faces were. She didn't seem to notice, realizing she had just solved a hidden mystery. I stared at her lips.

"Um, yes," I answered, "Yes, I was."

"Eddie Munson, I think I may have seen one of your first shows!" She was beaming, excited to have something else connect us. "You played the guitar?"

"I still do," I broke my gaze away from her and started walking towards her house again. I was now embarrassed because of her memory.

"But your hair!"

"It was buzzed," I laughed, "I had no idea what to do with it. I think it looks better now."

She leaned her head on my shoulder and fire tore through my chest.

"I like it, too." I smiled to myself. Tonight was going so much better than I anticipated.

We arrived at her house, the porch light on. We walked to the front door, and I could see the living room lights still on, her mom was probably up waiting. I wondered if they had seen each other yet. I knew she was nervous about it.

"Well, Eddie Munson," she dropped my waist, and the absence of her heat made my heart drop. "This is my stop. Thank you for being a gentleman and walking me home."

She turned to me, standing on the step that led to her house. She was closer to my height now and was grinning wildly, leaning close to my face. I couldn't help but smile back.

"Thank you for the invite tonight," I tried to play cool, "I had a great time – even if you made me dance."

She giggled and my heart caught in my throat. I loved making her laugh.

We sat, staring at one another for a beat, our faces close together, wanting to stay in the moment. I wanted to kiss her. 

I didn't, though, because I'm Eddie the Freak. There's no way she wanted to kiss me.

"Oh, I guess you need this back," she started pulling my jacket off.

"No!" I said quickly – too quickly. She looked and smiled.

"Are you sure?"

"No, uh," I tried to seem casual, "You can keep it for a bit."

"Won't you be cold on your way home?"

Shit. Yes? I still didn't want her to take the jacket off. I thought for a bit.

"No, I'll be fine," I started walking backwards, not wanting to give her a chance to hand it back. "And it gives me a real excuse to come back to see you."

That made her beam, and she waved at me.

"Get home safe, Eddie Munson."

"See you soon, Y/N Henderson." I turned away, wanting to maintain my cool exit. I couldn't stop smiling, thinking about the night.

The further I got away, I thought about our dancing, her touch, her compliments, her wanting to lengthen our walk home, her closeness to my face. I suddenly stopped when I realized how stupid I was.

She wanted to kiss me, too. It suddenly felt so obvious. 

Why didn't I kiss her?