Teaching | Eddie Munson

The First Time

As the days of her suspension stretched into weeks each of Victoria's mornings began with a sense of apprehension as she prepared for her counseling sessions with Ms. Kelley. Initially, the thought of reliving the painful memories surrounding Billy's death felt like weight on her chest, but it got easier with time. She spoke about the good moments, the laughter, and the shared dreams, but also the guilt. Guilt for surviving when Billy did not.

Outside of those sessions, Victoria found solace in everyday life. Late mornings, after she was done with counseling, were often spent in the kitchen. The space would get filled with the aroma of spices as she explored new recipes from the old cookbooks she had discovered in the trailer. The satisfaction she felt from her culinary creations was only rivaled by the joy of seeing Max's astonished expression whenever she tasted a new dish. It was as if she couldn't quite believe her sister was capable of crafting such small masterpieces, and it filled Victoria with a quiet sense of pride.

She always made sure to prepare enough to share with the Munsons, a gesture that soon became their tradition. Wayne, coming home after long shifts, would brighten at the sight of a hot meal waiting for him and Victoria felt his gratitude in each smile he offered her. Eddie, however, rarely focused on the food, no matter how good it was. Seated across from her, he would often watch quietly, his gaze drifting from his plate to the easy conversation between Victoria and his uncle, watching something he'd longed for—a sense of family, connection, and warmth.

Beyond the simple routine they'd created, her thoughts constantly drifted to Eddie, their connection deepening with each shared laugh that rang through the air, every whispered secret exchanged, and every lingering look that spoke volumes without a word.

They often explored the woods behind the trailers, their laughter mingling with the sound of their boots in the snow. Lazy afternoons were spent curled up on the couch, her head nestled against his shoulder as they got lost in old movies, or playing guitar together, with Eddie always reminding her how much she was improving. The evenings, however, were the sweetest. They would sit together, their conversations drifting effortlessly from deep thoughts to playful banter, filling the air with laughter.

But the most intimate moments weren't the ones filled with conversation—they were the ones punctuated by the small gestures. Eddie's fingers would brush over hers, teasing at first. He'd take her hand fully, intertwining their fingers, the touch lingering as though it meant more than the casual affection it might have seemed to be. He would lean closer, his breath warm against her ear, his lips brushing the soft curve of her jaw, whispering sweet nothings.

Victoria would often find herself unable to hold back the smile that crept across her face. She'd press herself closer into his side, feeling the warmth of his body, the slight rise and fall of his chest with each breath. Sometimes, she'd glance up at him and catch that mischievous smile that made her weak—the one that clearly showed he knew the effect he had on her.

Tonight was one of those evenings where everything felt still. It was a Friday night, marking the last evening of Victoria's suspension, and though the idea of returning to school on Monday loomed over her, she tried to push it away. Wayne was gone for the weekend, off on a fishing trip, leaving the trailer to her and Eddie. The quiet solitude made everything feel more intimate, urging her to enjoy every second with him, even though the past two weeks had already been filled with stolen moments together.

Eddie stepped back into the room, cradling a steaming mug of tea he prepared for Victoria in his hands. The sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks. There, lying on his bed, clad in the oversized Hellfire Club T-shirt he'd given her, was Victoria, completely engrossed in one of the Dungeons & Dragons guides she had found buried on his shelves.