better friends - eddie roundtree x oc

Pittsburgh, 1968

"Do you think there's ever gonna be another girl like her, Mal?" my best friend, Graham, asked me, laying on his bed, his hands behind his head as he stared up at the blank ceiling. "Of course." I replied halfheartedly, not fully paying attention to the mourning boy before me. I was too busy looking through his records trying to decide what to play. I decided on Something Else by The Kinks. They were one of my favorite bands, Graham's, too, but he was too busy thinking he was depressed to enjoy the melodic wonder that is Ray Davies' voice.

"How do you know?" he questioned, sitting up and peering toward me. I was now rummaging through his closet, searching for his hidden stash of cigarettes. Well, my hidden stash of cigarettes. I put them in Graham's closet so that if they were ever found, he would get the heat for it. A cruel trick, but his mother would go a million times easier on him than my parents would. They threatened to throw me in the ditch if they ever found a single cigarette in my possession; whereas, Ms. Dunne would simply give Graham a scolding and throw the pack away. She was far too busy running the household by herself to give him any sort of real punishment. After searching for what felt like a lifetime, I finally found the small box of cancerous, yet addicting, smokes. "Because you're fourteen, doofus. And you play the guitar. Girls go nuts for that. I mean, you could start a band. That'd win her back." I remarked, turning around and pulling a stick out. "Not in here." he whispered harshly, worriedly darting up and slamming the door shut in a panic, just in case his mother had some sort of superhuman abilities that allowed her to see what was happening in a room one floor above herself. I chuckled at his frantic state and pushed the cig back into the pack. "Trust me," I continued, flopping down onto his twin-sized bed. He followed suit. "You're gonna have plenty of girlfriends some day. Of course, I will have to approve of them, being your bestest friend and all." He laughed and rolled his eyes. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"Nix the cigs." he warned. I shoved them down his shirt and yelled, "Come in!" to whoever was on the other side of the birch panel. Graham's eyes widened as he panicked. "Why would you do that?" he asked, voice cracking slightly. He was trying greatly to remove the box from his tucked-in shirt when his older brother, Billy, opened the door. He calmed down slightly and I started laughing maniacally. "What's going on?" Billy asked, cocking an eyebrow at me. I calmed down from my fit of laughter and looked up at him. "Oh, nothing. Graham was just busy pouting over Jenny Downing." I smirked. Graham punched me lightly in the arm as Billy sighed. "Still?" he asked. I nodded and reached down Graham's shirt, retrieving the box he had seemingly forgotten about after realizing his mother was not, in fact, the one wishing to enter his room. "And look at this. He's even resorting to nicotine to cope. You need to help him, Billy. The poor boy is going down a troubled path." I pretended to start crying as Graham smacked the back of my head, Billy rolling his eyes. "I know they're yours, Mal." I stopped my faux sobbing and snapped my head up. "Don't tell my parents." He chortled and nodded. "I won't. Just, don't be mad if I bum one off every once in a while." I cracked a side grin and agreed.

The next day Graham and I were in P.E. running laps around the track with our other friends: Warren Rojas, Chuck Loving, and Eddie Roundtree. I'd kinda always had a thing for Eddie, but I'd never tell anyone that, not even Graham. Warren was hot too, but there was just something about Eddie that made it a little more than physical attraction. I wasn't paying attention to, nor participating in, the conversation until I heard Graham suggest we start a band. "A band?" I said, saying it more like it was a question. I looked away from the field the other kids were playing flag football in and squinted my eyes as I stared at him, the sun partially blinding me. "Where's this all coming from, anyway?" Eddie asked. His voice was deeper than the others, more matured. I admired it for a second before Warren and I both lightly shoved Graham. "He's trying to get his girlfriend back." Warren teased. "What? No, it's not about that." I scoffed. "Uhm, yeah it is. Every day since she dumped you all I've heard is, 'I just wish I could get Jenny back.' and, 'I miss Jenny so much.' Oh, or my personal favorite, 'I'm gonna die a virgin.' I think that last one holds some real truth." Graham stopped running for a brief moment to throw some sand at me. Luckily, I dodged it. He shook his head and turned back to the boys, who were now laughing. "Anyway," he began, eyeing me coldly. "It's not about that. It's about doing something I love with my brother and my three best friends." I shot my head up and caught up to them. "And, if girls just happen to notice me, then-" I cut him off. "Wait, three? Excuse you, there are FOUR other people here." He looked back at me and frowned a little. "Sorry, Mal. I was thinking this would be a boys-only band." I opened my mouth in shock. "Is this because of the virgin thing? Because I'm sorry if it is." He shook his head and replied, "No, I just think this isn't really something for girls." I resisted the urge to tackle him to the ground and beat the daylight out of him. "Did you say your brother?" Warren asked. "As in..." Eddie continued Warren's thought, but he finished it for himself. "Billy Dunne is gonna be in this band?" At this point we had all stopped running. Graham just grinned and took right off again, leaving us all a little stunned. "Boys only?" I repeated, anger showing through a little. "It's okay," Eddie consoled. "Yeah, I mean, every band needs a groupie, Mal." Warren joked. I started bolting toward him and he screamed, "Oh, shit!" before running away from me faster than a cheetah.

After school we all met in Chuck's garage. The boys to practice, me to sit and watch like a supportive mom who was, in truth, less than thrilled about everything her children had to show her. I was a fucking bassist. I could've been in the band if it weren't for misogynistic Graham and his "no girls" rule. However, I knew him well enough to understand that no girls just meant no Mallory. They were practicing a cover of "House of the Rising Sun". Graham on lead guitar, Chuck on bass, Warren on drums, and Eddie on rhythm guitar and vocals. He had a nice voice, not great yet, but nice for now. The actual playing of the instruments, though, not so nice. "Stop!" I shouted, but only so they could hear me. They complied, yet Graham looked annoyed. "What?" he asked harshly. "Calm down, princess. I'm helping." I seethed. "Eddie, it's an E major." I started. He looked down and strummed the right chord before nodding. "Warren, easy on those fills. You're in a rock band, not a jazz band." He looked a little embarrassed but nodded. "Y'know, if you want I can play with you. Help a little along the way, even." I suggested. "Thanks, Mal, but we don't need your help." Graham grumbled. "She's right, though." Billy said, spawning in out of nowhere. I jumped a little and turned to face him. "Again. From the top." he instructed. Graham smiled and said, "Hey, Billy. Why don't you, uh, show us how it's done?" He nodded and stepped up toward the mic, causing Eddie to back away toward me. "I'm calling it, by the third practice this band'll be his. You fucking believe this guy?" Eddie muttered so only I could hear. "He's not the brother I can't believe right now." I mumbled, staring down Graham with eyes full of rage. One day, he'd regret not letting me in this band. I just knew it.