Brightside

09 | never grow up

Rush stayed for the rest of the night. Sang a mixture of greatest hits from Mick & Moxie, MARS, Maverick, and, naturally, Taylor Swift. (One of these things was not like the other.) (Fuck.) (Eddie couldn't even complain in peace.) (FUCK.) He cooked dinner. Well. He paid for takeout and plated it for them, even put hot mats out so nothing burned the table. As an added bonus, none of the beaded friendship bracelets he was wearing broke while he was plating food—Eddie liked not eating broken beads. He also made sure Eddie ate by threatening her with baby airplane spoons.

            Why the hell he still had those was a mystery.

            It was worse to imagine he bought them new just for the occasion.

            Rush refused to stop drinking wine nor singing I Can See You no matter the hour and no matter the banging on the floor by the man who lived beneath her apartment who liked to go to bed early. Even brought his own cup with his name on it because every single time he came over he got upset that Eddie didn't own proper wine glasses. The first time Eddie drank wine out of a coffee mug in front of him was the first time she'd seen him regret their friendship.

            It was not the last.

            Sometimes Eddie made poor decisions. 

            (She wondered if he yelled that at Axel and his lack of dining room table.) (She needed to stop thinking about Axel. And his lack of dining room table.) (Mostly the lack of dining room table.)

            "What are you going to do if I leave tonight?"

            "I'm not going to do anything drastic." Eddie's eyes still hurt from crying. Stung like there were bees actively stinging her.

            "No impromptu haircuts?"

            "Never again." (Poorly cut bangs were the reason she got one of her concussions.)

            "No slushies at the crack of ass?"

            "That wasn't me."

            "We could have a sleepover."

            "Is Laki invited?"

            "Only if we can make a fort in the living room."

            "You want to destroy my living room?"

            "I want to watch the Cars trilogy and the only way to do that is from the comfort of your living room floor with a blanket over my head."

            "You do that often?"

            "Sleep on your floor?" Rush laughed.  "No."

            "You're allowed to," Eddie said. "I guess."

            "I'm honoured." Rush threw a bag of popcorn into the microwave. Punched in a couple numbers. "Oops, popcorn's being made and I can't stop that—"

            "You could literally stop that—"

            "So I guess I gotta go open the apartment front door for my boy because Tamara is dropping him off any second, thanks, okay love you be right back! Don't let the popcorn burn!"

            "Rush—"

            "Better have your pyjamas on when we get back—" Rush was already out the apartment door.

            "If you cry during Cars 3 I'm going to kick you—" Eddie sighed as Rush closed the door. "Fuck."

            Eddie did what she always did when Rush decided Laki was coming over with little to no notice. She stuffed cigarette boxes in drawers that she hoped the boy wouldn't go through. Shoved bottles of alcohol in cabinets that she had to climb on her kitchen counter to reach the top shelves of. There was never anything more deeply embarrassing than realizing how shitty of an influence she could be because she couldn't handle not being under the influence. There would be a day—she hoped soon—where she would talk to someone about that and they would wave their magical therapy wand and poof her and her heinous addictions would be cured and she would be the person everyone who maybe loved her at one point wanted her to be.