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( the weirdo on maple street, part ii )
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november 8, 1983
EDDIE'S VAN HAS BEEN idling in front of Steve's house for ten minutes now, and every time Allison has attempted to leave, Eddie has found yet another reason to hold her back. He doesn't know much about Allison, he's only known her a week, but he does know Steve and his crew. And he knows that they'll chew her up and spit her out. It's just what their kind does.
After a long minute of silence, Allison shuffles in the worn passenger seat. "Eddie, I really need to go now," she says definitively. She's going into that house whether he wants her to or not.
The boy groans dramatically, throwing his head back against the headrest of his seat, but concedes with a nod. "Yeah, yeah, I know." He looks back over at her. "Just, uh, call me when you wanna get picked up, okay?" he says. Allison gives him a nod in return and reaches for the door handle. As she pulls it, Eddie reaches over to lightly take hold of her forearm, stopping her in place. "Stay safe, 'kay?"
Allison's brows rise, and she throws him an awkward, close-lipped smile. "It's just a party. I'll be fine."
Of course, Allison doesn't know that for sure, but how hard can a party be? She'll talk to people, drink a beer or two ( she's never had a beer before, but Eddie and Wayne drink them with meals sometimes, and they seem to enjoy them, so why not? ), and listen to music. Easy peasy.
She clambers out of the van and drops down onto the grassy lawn in front of the large house. Eddie's van doors only half-work on a good day, so she has to really throw her weight into the damn thing shut to make it latch. Eddie flashes one last nervous smile at her and waves as he drives away. Upon reciprocating the wave, Allison turns to face the Harrington house. She takes a deep breath and sets off toward the front entrance, wiping the sweat on her palms off on the sides of her pants before knocking on the door. Some rock song blares inside the house, so loud that Allison can't even be sure that anyone has heard her. It takes what feels like a lifetime before the double front doors finally swing open.
