Stray Kids | e. munson

ONE

TW: drug use, sexual innuendos, bullying,

There were few things in this world Lola Bower enjoyed more than getting high. Nothing truly compared to the delightful lightness in her limbs or the crawl of the world around her. She'd even begun to thoroughly enjoy the taste after some time. Pizza, perhaps, was a close second. But still, even something as good as pizza tasted better when she was stoned. The only recurring problem she had since discovering god's gift of marijuana, was that sometimes she'd run out without notice.

Which was why, despite the early hour, she'd marched through the dewy grass to the trailer beside hers in Forest Hills trailer park. She rapped her knuckles against the door three times and waited.

The longer Lola stood barefoot in the morning sun, the more she wished she would've gotten dressed first. Or at least switched her silk sleep shorts for sweatpants. Even though it was June now, Hawkins tended to be unnervingly cold in the mornings. The price she'd have to pay for smoking before bed, she supposed.

She knocked again, relief blooming behind her ribcage when she heard the familiar voice shout, "I'm coming, I'm coming! Jesus Christ!"

Eddie Munson wrenched open the front door angrily, one hand adjusting the blue boxers hanging low on his hips and the other trying to wipe the exhaustion from his face. His dark hair fell in tangled curls around his shoulders, and he was completely bare save for the boxers and the silver rings adorning his fingers. "What," he said flatly.

Lola shifted uncomfortably at the sight of him, sleepy and sated and a little annoyed. There was no denying the attraction she felt. She'd never acted on her impulses, but the temptation was always there, lurking beneath her skin. She suddenly wished she would have like...brushed her teeth or something to appear a little more presentable. "I'm out," she explained.

He rolled his eyes. "It's seven in the morning," he said. "This couldn't wait an hour?"

She shook her head. "No, not really."

He sighed dejectedly. "You still owe me for the eighth I gave you Wednesday and the half ounce last week," he stated. "Do you have a twenty at least?"

Shifting on her feet uncomfortably, Lola started to wonder if maybe this was a bad idea. She didn't answer him — she didn't have the confidence to admit that no, she didn't have the money he was owed and she wasn't entirely sure when she would. But the thought of going to Hawkins High without being high made her nauseous, and she quickly decided that she wasn't above a little groveling. "Please, Eddie," she begged. "I'll get you the money sometime later this week, I swear. I just need something to get me through the day."

After a moment of contemplation, he finally let out a sigh and opened the door further, motioning for her to come inside. "I'll share with you. Fair?"

Lola nodded, walking up the last step and into his trailer. "More than fair," she answered. "Thank you." She followed him down the back hallway and into a room at the very end. As she took in her surroundings, she realized that even though she'd been acquainted with Eddie all year and lived next door, she'd never actually been into his house. Their interactions would usually begin and end at the front door and consisted mostly of an exchange of cash and weed.

Eddie's bedroom, or what she assumed was his bedroom, was nothing she didn't expect. Every wall was covered in posters of thrash metal bands and horror movies, complete with a red and black guitar hung in front of a mirror on top of his dresser. He grabbed a t-shirt off the floor and tugged it over his head. There were more articles of clothing strewn about haphazardly on his bed and nearly every viable surface, but it wasn't messy. Just cluttered. Not too different from her room, if he replaced the posters with books.