Two Steps Behind

Part 3

 Elizabeth walked into the music store, the sound of Black Sabbath, gently playing in the background, meeting her ears. It instantly took her back, sitting in the back of a van parked at Lover's Lake, passing a joint back and forth. Long, ring-clad fingers moving quickly, playing air guitar. Eyes the color of sweet melted chocolate gazing into hers, the desire to tell him exactly how she felt...no, she shook her head. Elizabeth was not going down that road, that road only led to pain.

She began looking around the store, eager to put the memories back in the box where they belonged. Over in the back there was a listening station where you could play records. There were new CDs but also a large used section featuring loads of records as well as cassette tapes. CDs covered in pictures of various artists hung from the ceiling, the sunlight glinting off of them and making kaleidoscope colors on the walls. There was a death wall to the right, plastered in obituaries of musical legends who were gone from the world, many too soon. There was a lounge area in the front corner with a squishy couch, a couple of armchairs, and a coffee table. To the side of that was a small self-serve coffee stand.

There was a group of people sitting in the lounge, chatting and drinking coffee. They looked to be in their early twenties, dressed in the grunge fashion that was so popular right now. This was a really cool place. The vibe was perfect for hanging out and enjoying good music. Her mom had been right. Elizabeth loved it. This was the exact kind of thing she desperately needed to get out of her own head right now and forget everything for a bit.

She walked over to one of the bins and began to peruse the selection of CDs. There were a lot of great choices here. She grabbed Appetite for Destruction, Skid Row, Dr. Feel Good, Slippery When Wet, and Pyromania. She had left all of her music back at the house, knowing she had to be limited in what she took as her car could only hold so much. She had also been in a rush and only grabbed the most basic needs. This would definitely be a start to building up her collection again. Nothing sounded better right now than losing herself in some amazing rock records.

"Do my eyes deceive me or is that Elizabeth Beck standing in my store? Sorry, I should say Elizabeth Harris, shouldn't I? Old habits."

She would know that voice anywhere. Spinning, she saw her favorite person in the whole world standing behind her. He looked exactly the same, just a tad older. His long, wavy brown hair fell around his shoulders. Those gentle, intuitive chocolate brown eyes that sat just above what had to be the sweetest smile on the planet. He was rocking his usual uniform of ripped jeans and a band tee. Today's choice was Iron Maiden. She squealed and lunged at him, wrapping her arms around him in a tight squeeze.

"Eddie!" she shrieked. "I can't believe it's you!"

"Me?" he laughed. "I never left, remember? You're the one who moved away and never calls. I can't believe it's you. What are you doing back in Hawkins?"

"Oh, I just came to visit mom for a bit," she quickly explained, glancing down. He'd always been able to read her so well and she couldn't have him seeing the lie in her eyes. "I missed everyone and I haven't been back in forever. I thought it would be nice to stop in for a while."

"It is nice. In fact it's great," Eddie replied. "Come on. I was doing inventory in the back, but I can head out for a smoke break."

She followed him out front and watched as he leaned against the brick wall and lit a smoke, cupping his hand around the flame to shield it from the wind. He noticed her eyeing his cigarette and chuckled, offering her the pack. She gratefully accepted one and lit it up.

"I thought you quit because David didn't like smokers," he commented and she could hear the sarcasm in his voice.

"I did." She takes a deep drag and closes her eyes, sighing as the first hit of nicotine floods her brain. God, she forgot how good that first hit was. This was exactly what she needed to settle her nerves. "I don't do it regularly anymore. But, occasionally, a cigarette just sounds good."