The Sound

Part 9 - Jules

Eddie opened the door for me, quickly stomping towards the back once I got into the passenger's seat. I closed the door, confused why he was angry again. He threw his guitar in the back, slamming the door before going to his side. He climbed in, starting the van. He looked at the wheel.

"Welcome to the Beast," he said quietly. I stared at him, confused. He glanced at me before gesturing around angrily. "My van."

I raised my eyebrows and my face split into a grin.

"Does that make you the Beauty?" I asked, teasing him. He smiled tightly.

"The number of times I have used that line on girls," he joked back, pulling out of his parking spot. I laughed as I propped my feet on the dash.

"Well, sorry to let the Beast down today," I remarked, leaning back into the seat, staring ahead.

"What do you mean?" Eddie asked, perplexed.

"Oh, just like, the whole not being a beauty thing," I answered, watching the road pass.

"You're not very nice to yourself," Eddie's comment surprised me. I turned to him, my brows furrowing. He glanced at me again. "Just because you think I'm mean to you, doesn't mean that you should be mean to you."

He stumbled on his strange phrasing, making me laugh. I nodded, agreeing as I directed him back to my house. We pulled up to my dark home, no lights anywhere since my dad was at work. I turned to him, smiling brightly. He was staring at my house, concerned.

"Looks a little spooky," he said softly. I laughed again.

"Just no one home. My dad works nights." He nodded, suddenly understanding.

"My uncle does, too. He's out at the lab."

"So is my dad!" I immediately replied, excited about another connection we had. He turned to me, smirking. I was bashful again, trying to make sure I didn't annoy him. "He's a scientist out there."

"My uncle's not that special," he replied. His smile widened, making my heart skip. I placed my hand on the door handle, something stopping me before I got out.

"Do you want to hang out for a bit? It gets a little spooky on my own." I felt exposed – I knew that Eddie disliked me, but I desperately wanted to be his friend for some reason. His intense glare softened into a kind smile.

"Sure – it gets spooky at the trailer, too," he answered, shutting the van off. I clambered out of the van, Eddie following me up to the door. I was nervously chattering about something, barely registering what I was talking about. It bothered me how much I wanted Eddie's approval.

I opened the door, gesturing in my house.

"Welcome! Feel free to make yourself comfortable!" I offered. Eddie nodded, closing the door behind him. He followed me to the kitchen.

"Do you want anything? I can make you a root beer float or something." I turned back to him, and he had the same expression the day that I guessed that his full name was Edmund.

"You are constantly surprising, Jules," he remarked, a smile creeping onto his face. I felt heat creep up my neck as I smiled back at him. He leaned against the counter. This was so bizarre – Eddie Munson, the man who absolutely hated me, was in my kitchen, about to share root beer floats with me. I turned towards the fridge, pulling out the different ingredients.

"What does 'victorious one' mean?" he asked. I turned on my heel, items in hand as my eyes widened. He held up a sticky note with my father's scrawling handwriting on it. I placed the ice cream and root beer on the counter, reaching to a cabinet.

"Oh, my dad wrote that note. It probably means Steve called." I pulled two glasses out of the cupboard and set them down. I began scooping the ice cream out.

"How does 'victorious one' mean that?" He was confused – almost incredulous. I smiled as I started pouring root beer.

"My dad likes giving people nicknames. Steve's name means 'victorious'. He has an easier time remembering people like that," I explained handling him a glass. He stared, still confused.

"Do I have a nickname?" he asked, before taking a sip of his float. My stomach dropped as I looked at my feet.

"Maybe," I answered, hoping to skirt past the question. I looked up, locking eyes with him. "It's not the most flattering."

"Oh?" he asked, eyebrows raising as he grinned at me. My stomach flipped as I slurped my float. I looked down again, hoping he wouldn't push it. "So, I guess you and Harrington are doing whatever you guys are doing?"

I looked up at him, embarrassed. I don't know why I didn't want to tell Eddie anything about Steve. There wasn't even anything to tell.

"Not really – he just called today. He wanted to hang out."

"Tonight?" he asked, not looking at me. I flushed again.

"Yeah – I told him I wasn't able to."

"You didn't want to invite him?" I didn't know how to answer this question. I didn't even know the answer myself.

"I didn't invite him, no," I answered, wondering what Eddie would think. He turned his head to the side.

"Why not?"

"You know, I don't think I know the answer to that," I decided to be truthful, but I couldn't handle his stare. I left the kitchen, heading to the living room. I heard Eddie pad behind me in his heavy boots.

"Do you not like Steve?"

I plopped onto the couch, looking at Eddie. Why did he care? Unless he didn't want Steve to talk to me. That's probably the problem. I shook my head.

"No, I like Steve just fine."

"But you didn't want to bring him tonight?" I couldn't place Eddie's curiosity – it wasn't demanding or prying. It almost seemed like he was trying to solve a puzzle.

"I guess not," I responded, shrugging. He dropped onto the couch, still watching me. I pulled my legs up, crossing them. We sat in silence for a bit.

"So, what's my nickname?" Eddie broke the silence, making me belly laugh. I cringed, making a face at him.

"You sure you want to know?" I asked, hoping he would say no. His smile settled into a smirk.

"Absolutely."

"'The Asshole'," I answered, still making a face. He watched me for a bit, thinking about something. I felt my stomach drop – was this how I ruined our cautious friendship? His face broke into the biggest smile I had seen on his face yet. My heart jumped into my throat.

"Damn, it's making more and more sense why you thought we weren't friends before," he joked, relieving me of my panic. I smiled as he leaned back, his eyes crinkling as he watched me. I set my float on the table, nervously fidgeting with my hair as he continued to stare. I could not figure out what he was thinking, and I was too nervous to ask. I was worried he would get annoyed, becoming Mean Eddie again.

"Want to watch something?" I asked, nervous. Why was I nervous? 

I reached for the remote, turning the TV on. I flipped through the channels, trying to determine what to watch. We both gasped when Michael Myers appeared on screen, stalking Jamie Lee Curtis. I turned to him, grinning.

"You a big fan of dead teenagers?" Eddie joked, smirking at me. I laughed as I playfully smacked his arm.

"Sounds like you are, too," I quipped, settling into the couch next to him.

It was surreal – the person who hated me most in the world was sitting with me, watching my favorite horror movie.