Chapter Text
Steve has a problem. After Wednesday night, he has no other reason to hang out with Eddie. When the sun rises, he tells himself his concern was for the bet and putting Tommy in his place. But during the witching hours, when he is in bed, he can be a bit more honest with himself.
He enjoys being around Eddie. His laugh, his stories, his Munson Doctrine. The way his eyes twinkled just before he does something to annoy you.
The more time Steve spends with Eddie, the less he understood why the rest of the school refers to him as ‘the freak’. He is no more strange than anyone Steve knows personally. No more strange than himself, only Eddie doesn’t hold back his strangeness. He may feel like he has made himself small for others consumption, but it is nothing compared to what Steve has done.
He supposes he can just reach out to Eddie and ask to hang out—they are friendly now—or even show up at the rec center, but it feels wrong. Or maybe Steve is too used to being the one that people flock to and now he feels himself soaring toward Eddie.
The solution to his problem comes from an unsuspected source, at least when it came to solving things. Ashley, in his English class, says that she heard from Bridget who heard from Ryan who is friends with Chase that there is a party this Saturday at Chase’s cousin’s house and that he should totally come. “It’s going to be big,” she says with too much vocal fry.
It’s not exactly Eddie’s scene, or hasn’t been up until this point. But Steve thinks that he can win him over to the idea by inviting Jeff and Gareth and even the freshman. He may even throw in a point about gathering votes for their band, since Saturday is when the voting starts.
He waits until last period to text Eddie, wanting to examine the idea in his head and predict any possible issues.
Steve: you guys have a gig tonight right
Eddie: Yeah in Indianapolis
Steve: do you have plans for Saturday night?
Eddie doesn’t respond right away. He must be texting his friends to see if they have plans before responding.
Eddie: Did you have something in mind?
Steve: there’s this party
Eddie: oh
Steve: I thought between Robin, Nancy and I and you, Jeff, and Gareth we could keep an eye on the freshies and give them a taste of their first big party
Steve: and put out the word to vote for Corroded Coffin for the botb
Steve: turn on that famous Munson charm
Again, there is a pause on Eddie’s end. Steve turns his attention to his class, or tries to, but it is Friday and the last period of the day and the sun is shining outside. Who could blame him for thinking of other, better things?
Eddie: Munson charm?
Eddie: don’t think anyone has ever claimed any Munson has charm
Eddie: but we could always borrow yours
Eddie: We’re in, but no freshman. I can’t bring them to a party and then caution them to behave responsibly at my job.
Steve: fair enough
When the bell rings, Steve’s heart feels light and giddy. He practically skips to his car and smiles at everyone walking past him. Before he drives out of the parking lot, he sends Eddie one more text.
Steve: Good luck tonight
He doesn’t expect a text back. The conversation he had last period with Eddie may be the longest one they’ve had over text. But when he gets home and checks his phone, he sees a notification.
Eddie: We don’t need it
Saturday before the party goes by in the blink of an eye. Steve thought that doing some homework would slow the day down, but that backfires. A little before Eddie and crew arrive to give him a ride, he lays out the first outfit that Eddie wore the previous Monday and sends a picture to Eddie.
Steve: I can bring these threads
Steve: you know, for brand recognition
Eddie: 😐 no
Steve lays out the second outfit, his practice jersey, and sends another picture.
Steve: is this one more what you’re thinking?
Eddie: 😂 never
Eddie: I can’t steal your thunder
Steve: 🙄
Steve: fine
Steve: but my final vote is for the last outfit
Steve: it worked for you
He stares at his phone at the last message he sent, wondering if it says more (or less) than he wants it to say. What does he want it to say? The more he looks at it, the less sense it makes until he finally has to throw his phone on the bed and get dressed. He is cognizant of Eddie as he runs his fingers over the clothes hanging in his closet. Wearing his normal clothes is not an option, it’ll contrast too much with Eddie and draw attention away from him. In the end, he goes with a dark wash jean, a black tee, and a blue bomber jacket.
Then, he spends an inordinate amount of time on his hair. Getting it damp, blow drying it, adding product so that it lays just right. He wants it to frame his face and have volume so it stays back.
He leaves the house with hardly a minute to spare as Eddie’s van pulls up his driveway. Eddie said he’d feel better if he had an out if the party went south and Steve didn’t mind being a passenger. Jeff and Gareth live in the direction of the party so once Steve is situated, they head that way. He is treated to twenty minutes of classic metal. The band head bangs and Steve pretends to be bothered, but he is starting to see the appeal of the genre.
The house is located on a back road which is convenient for hiding it from others. But as they pull down the road, Steve wonders up until they see all the parked cars if this is the right location. Then as they turn a corner, the house appears and all around them are haphazardly parked vehicles.
Eddie turns around and parks along the road going back out. Walking in through the front doors is a strange experience as the four of them draw a lot of attention. At first, Steve ignores it, thinking that it is the usual attention or that perhaps there is another rumor circulating that he saved someone from drowning. Except the looks are directed at Eddie, Jeff, and Gareth.
“What is happening?” Eddie asks Steve, leaning in to be heard over the music. They stop in a room off of the kitchen that is open to the backyard.
Steve shrugs. “I don’t have a clue.”
Just then, Robin appears and grabs him into a hug, Nancy close behind. “My boys and Gareth,” she cries, clearly being effected by the energy of the party. “You guys are big news.”
“We’ve noticed,” Jeff grumbles.
“It’s your video,” Nancy says. “People are theorizing that the footage from school means you did the morning announcements prank.”
“And,” Robin says pointing a finger high in the air, “you are getting cool points for pulling it off.”
“Cool points aren’t a thing, Robin,” says Steve.
“Not to you cool boy, but they matter for the rest of us,” Eddie says.
“So people are voting for Corroded Coffin?” Gareth asks, twisting their hands in front of them.
Nancy pinches her lips in a smile and nods her head. Robin adds, “From what we’ve heard at the party, you have a few fans here.”
Jeff and Gareth high-five, but Eddie smiles at Steve. It sours something in his stomach suddenly because the smile seems to say that this is Steve’s doing. And sure, Steve helped. But what Eddie doesn’t know is the reason for that and if he ever found out, he wouldn’t be looking at Steve like that.
“Finally,” Steve crows, “the people are recognizing your talent.” It does little to quiet his guilty conscience.
Jeff and Gareth go off to find the stocks of booze with promises to return with their findings. And Nancy and Robin head off to dance, leaving Steve and Eddie alone. Steve gestures toward the backyard thinking that it’ll be easier to breathe outside. They find two vacant beach chairs away from much of the party goers and sit down.
“So this is what popular kid parties are like?”
Steve scoffs. “I guess. You know you could’ve come to these parties if you wanted.”
“And be ridiculed. No thanks.”
“Has anyone said anything to you here?” Steve glances over at him, a little hurt that after all this time, Eddie is returning to high school cliches.
“I guess not.”
“I know things haven’t been easy for you at school,” Steve says slowly, knowing that he is treading on thin ice, ice that he broke up in the first place. “But at these parties, everyone is looking to have a good time and get wasted. You don’t have to be popular to do that. Things aren’t always like the movies.”
Eddie hums. “It’s fine. If I came to parties in my younger years, I wouldn’t have spent so much time learning how to play guitar. It works out in the end.”
“You spent your time learning a useful skill and I spent mine impressing shallow people. If you think about it, I’m the sad one of the two of us.”
Silence falls between them and Steve tilts his head back and looks at the sky. This far from the city, he can almost see a few stars. The large bonfire flickering in the corner of his vision isn’t helping, but even squinting at them makes him feel the comfort of seeing them.
“Impressing shallow people?” Eddie asks.
Steve turns to Eddie. “Yeah,” he sighs. “I guess I’m feeling a little melancholic about the path I took in high school as we near graduation. Getting to know you these last four weeks shows me how little the people around me know about who I am.”
“Popularity isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Is that what you’re telling me?”
“It’s exactly what it’s cracked up to be,” Steve says. “But something cracked can’t hold anything. So I guess what I’m saying is I’ve got nothing to show for it.”
Eddie fiddles with his rings, his mouth open like he wants to say something. Eventually, he gets there. “Does there need to be something substantial to feel like it was worth it?”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, do you need your own version of the guitar? Or could your “product” of your time in high school be something abstract? Like your friendship with Robin.”
Steve doesn’t know what to say. Or he does, but it feels childish. What he wants to say is that yes, it needs to be physical, something he can see, or else it doesn’t count. If other people can’t see it, can’t acknowledge it, if he is just a funny memory in their minds in twenty years, then he doesn’t matter. Instead, he says, “It doesn’t feel like that counts.”
“To who?”
And that stumps Steve, for just a moment. Then an image of his dad appears in his mind.
Eddie grips Steve’s shoulder. “Munson Doctrine rule 103, don’t live your life for someone else. They won’t care and you’ll never be happy with it.”
Steve gazes back up at the stars, now desperately wishing that he could see them, if only to give him something else to focus on. “Number 103?” he asks, voice wavering only slightly. He is sure Eddie doesn’t notice. Eddie pats his shoulder and returns it to his lap. “You must’ve lived a lot of life to have 103 points in your doctrine at the ripe age of 18.”
“I’m 19,” Eddie corrects. “Now, another point in my doctrine, rule 58, is that big emotional talks need to be had with substances. And since we are at a party, there’s got to be alcohol somewhere.”
“Yes, please,” Steve gasps.
“Some friends,” Eddie jokes as they walk back to the house. “Jeff and Gareth said they’d bring us something and never did.”
Steve tries to adopt the same jovial tone. “Ah, you can’t blame them. They’ve been drawn in by the wonders of the party. They’re hard to resist.”
Inside, they make their way to the kitchen where the drinks are haphazardly scattered on the counters. Half empty bottles and solo cups litter the space. Eddie starts collecting bottles and somehow finds two clean cups. He sets them on an empty bit of counter and pours a little from the collected bottles. It reminds Steve of an alchemist or a wizard, the way he sniffs a bottle before squatting to monitor how much he pours in.
“This will do you,” Eddie says handing over the cup before taking up his own.
The tap the cups together before Steve takes a sip. It goes down hard but in the wake of the burn is a sugary warmth. “That is something.”
Eddie grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “For what it’s worth, I think—”
He’s interrupted by an unwelcome voice from the dining room. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t my old friend, Steve.” Tommy appears, like some sort of cliche, by pushing his way through a group of sophomores.
He is the last person Steve wanted to see here, especially because he is here with Eddie. All it does is remind Steve of the bet and that Eddie doesn’t know about it. As Tommy gets closer, Steve reads his demeanor trying to decide how to react. Does he say hey and act like they are civil? Does he bark out some cutting remark and get him to leave? Before Steve can decide, Tommy does it for him.
“And who is this?” He points at Eddie and looks behind him at Billy and Jason who slip through the crowd.
“Is that the freak?” Jason crows in his “bro” voice. Steve played basketball with him for four years, he’s intimately familiar with it and the irritation it causes him.
Steve scans Eddie, still wanting some sign of what he should do in this moment. Eddie bites his lip and furrows his brow, but says nothing in his own defense. So neither does Steve.
Billy walks up to Steve. “What are you doing with the freak?” he asks. His eyes are glassy and his lips stumble on the f of freak.
Steve speaks without thinking. “Do you want something? Or are you just trying to stir up trouble?” He directs this at Tommy, not giving Billy the satisfaction.
Tommy smirks. “Oh, just wanted to say we watched your little video submission.” At this, Tommy twirls his finger toward Eddie. “Heard through Zach that you helped them, Harrington.”
“And?” Steve asks. His body is warming up and without meaning to, his hands have balled up into fists.
Tommy turns his attention from Steve to Eddie who tenses waiting for a blow. Steve steps closer to him wanting in some way to protect him, but a blow never comes.
“You think you are some sort of guitar god, don’t you? Just because you’re video gets a few measly votes,” Tommy spits.
Eddie huffs. “I think we stand a chance and that pisses you off.” The crowd mumbles creating a buzzing around them.
“Hardly. You’re nothing. Getting pissed off about you would be like getting mad at the ants under my foot.”
Eddie’s lips turn into a sly grin. “Nah, I get under your skin. Why else would you go out of your way to bother me?”
Tommy’s face twists into a growl. “Let’s have it out, right here.”
Steve steps in. “Tommy, don’t be stupid.”
“Eric has amps and guitars. We’ll play it out. See who is the best.”
Steve, relieved that Tommy didn’t want to fight, turns to Eddie. “You don’t have to do this. You already know you are better than him. I’ve known him for years and I didn’t even know he played guitar. There’s no way—”
Eddie speaks over him. “You’re on.”
The crowd cheers. Strangers bring out the amps and the guitars and set them up in the living room. Steve has a bad feeling about this as Tommy’s worse qualities come out when he is competing. But maybe, he’s at the sweet spot of drunk and will give in when defeated.
Eric steps between them as Eddie fiddles with the guitar, making sure it is in tune, Steve figures. “All right, here are the rules. Eddie, you are the challengee so you will play a guitar riff, no more than 30 seconds. Tommy, you will play the same riff but add on to it. Eddie, you either play the same one and add something, or pick a new, more challenging one. We go until one of you falters.”
Eddie fingers the strings along the neck of the guitar with his left hand without strumming with his right, planning out what he will play. Nancy and Robin slide up beside him, Jeff and Gareth behind them.
“Is he sure about this?” Gareth asks.
Robin shakes her head. “It’s too late to back down now.”
That’s when Eddie strikes his first chord. Then another. And another in quick succession. His fingers blur as they jump along the strings. The music is short and quick and Eddie plays it like it’s nothing. All the tension from before when they were staring down Tommy has left. His fingers move like water, smooth.
Eric steps forward to signal time is up and Eddie stills his fingers. The crowd that pushes against Steve lets out a raucous cheer. “Good job, good job,” Eric says to Eddie. Then he turns to Tommy, who appears less than confident. His mouth is hanging open and his arms are limp at his sides. “Your turn.”
Eddie watches Tommy, that mischievous glint in his eye.
Steve is certain that Eddie has this. There is no way Tommy has this level of skill.
Except.
Tommy grabs the guitar, holding it like a slippery fish, and jams his fingers on the strings. The guitar screeches out the chords like an angry cat. He bites his lip as he stumbles and his fingers slur over the neck of the guitar. Still, he gets it out and adds something at the end. Jason and Billy cheer, but few others in the crowd do. Tommy scowls at them and turns it on Eddie.
Eddie starts his next riff before Eric can do anything but stumble to start a timer on his phone. As he runs his hand down the strings on the body of the guitar, his head bangs out the rhythm. Steve can tell it is a different song, the notes are grouped into short bursts.
“Master of puppets,” Jeff gasps. Steve looks up at him, confused. He responds, “Metallica.”
His fingers climb up the neck of the guitar and the chords follow. Energy courses through the crowd, they can’t hold back their excitement and noises spring from their lips. Eddie responds, turning toward them, feeding on their energy and giving it back tenfold.
“Time.” Eric has to call twice over the noise which only gets louder when Eddie stops playing. He releases his guitar and throws both hands up in devil horns. Jeff and Gareth respond doing the same. Jason and Billy’s faces suggest this isn’t going like they thought it would. But Steve can’t fathom that they thought it would go well.
Eric gives the floor to Tommy, who takes up his guitar and plucks out something resembling what Eddie did, though he adds little flourishes between each burst of chords up the neck of the guitar. The crowd gives Tommy none of the energy it gave to Eddie, happy to watch him fail so obviously at something and having the safety of numbers to call him out on it.
Though, a frisson of fear tears through Steve all the same. Tommy is unpredictable. His angry could release immediately or days later. Or both. Even if Eddie wins this, it won’t be the last run in with Tommy.
A few in the crowd boo when Tommy finishes his turn. Eric silences them tamping his hands down in the air. “No need for boos, this is a party, we’re just here to have fun. I declare that we’ll continue to the next round. Eddie.”
Eddie stands there a moment, watching the crowd, his pick pinched between his lips. It’s like he is searching his memories for a bit of guitar playing that will blow Tommy out of the water. Steve wants to tell him he doesn’t have to destroy Tommy, that there is no use. He always comes back, stronger and asking for more.
He removes the pick and begins. The pick jumps over a few strings over and over again, then his fingers move like spiders over the neck. Someone to Steve’s left starts dancing to Eddie’s solo.
Robin points and cheers them on. “Never thought I’d see the day,” Gareth says, holding up a camera to film Eddie, then the dancer.
Jeff, voice breathy with surprise. “Welcome to the new world.”
“Is this a song?” Steve asks.
“Technical Difficulties by Racer X,” Jeff answers. “One of the most difficult solos in metal.”
Steve admires Eddie as he effortlessly goes through the motions of the solo. He knows nothing about music or playing an instrument, but watching how fast and how much Eddie’s fingers move, he can tell this is not something for the faint of heart.
Eric tries to step in but the crowd is too loud, maybe Eddie ignores him, either way the music continues. In the corner, Tommy is turning purple with anger as he tries to figure out how to play the song. Eventually, he swaggers up next to Eddie and starts to strum out chords. Only, they are all wrong. The discordant noise breaks the happy bubble of the crowd and they turn on Tommy. Every one jeers at him, even Robin let’s her distaste be known.
Eddie looks at Steve, a smile on his face and his chest rises and falling rapidly. Steve looks back, but try as he might, he can’t mirror Eddie’s excitement. Tommy is the rattlesnake in the bushes, he will strike out. He heads over to Eddie, ready to respond if needed.
Eric gets there at the same town, looking sorrowful as he says to Tommy, “I think the crowd has spoken. Though, even if they didn’t, it didn’t look like you were going to manage that particular melody.”
Eddie smirks. “Flew too close to the sun there.”
“Shut up, que—”
“Tommy!” Steve interjects.
Eddie steps towards him and holds up his right hand. “All this is thanks to you, Tommy boy. If you hadn’t broken my hand freshman year, I wouldn’t be as good as I am.”
“Fuck you,” Tommy shoots back.
“Watch yourself,” Steve hisses, putting an arm against Tommy’s chest as he tries to step toward Eddie.
Tommy cuts his gaze to Steve and almost growls. Then, Jason and Billy are there beside him. “It’s not worth it,” Jason whispers. Tommy grunts and they walk away.
Jeff and Gareth come up behind Steve full of congratulations and Eddie turns away to celebrate with them. But Steve doesn’t stop watching where Tommy disappeared into the crowd. His gut tells him it isn’t over.
The party goes on, with Eddie more popular than before. Strangers come up to him to talk about his performance and how happy they were to see Tommy suck or to tell him they already voted today but they are going to vote for his band tomorrow. If Tommy hadn’t orchestrated it himself, Steve would be pleased with the outcome. It bodes well for Eddie and Corroded Coffin. And Steve.
But it isn’t long before Tommy strikes. Steve is sitting between Eddie and Robin, with Nancy on her other side. Steve is turned toward Eddie as he talks to yet another new fan, a sophomore, who is desperately flirting with Eddie. The egregious display makes Steve roll his eyes, but Eddie is being so sweet to her. It makes Steve grit his teeth.
Next to him, Robin gasps loudly and turns to show Nancy something on her phone. Steve sees it out the corner of his eye but when he investigates, they are sitting head to head and he figures it is a them thing. Until Robin lifts her head, her big brown eyes full of a specific kind of horror and hurt. She leans in to him and whispers, “Grab Eddie. We’ve gotta show him this, but not in front of everyone.”
The girls get up and walk out the front door as it’s closest. Steve twists to reach Eddie’s ear. “Robin said she’s gotta show us something.”
Eddie doesn’t look at Steve when he says back, “Yeah, give me a second.” Steve gets up anyway and goes to find the girls.
Outside, Robin holds her phone out for him to see. It’s a soundless video from Eddie’s performance. Only Tommy has added crude drawings of dicks in strategic places to make it look like Eddie is doing things to them. Along the bottom of the video are some choice slurs. Steve knew he wouldn’t let this embarrassment go without retaliation.
It is the freshman incident all over again, but this time Steve can’t pull Tommy away from the scene of the crime. Without thinking, he says, “He said he wouldn’t do anything like this.”
“What does that mean?” Nancy asks, her voice low but filled with concern.
Steve shakes his head. “We can’t show Eddie this.”
“Can’t show me what?” Eddie closes the door behind him and descends the stairs toward them.
Steve locks the screen and shoves the phone back at Robin. He feels the need to both prevent Eddie from seeing it and prepare him for the inevitable. Who is he kidding? It’s a wonder he doesn’t already know.
“Show me what, Steve?”
Steve holds his hands up like he is waiting for a pass. “You don’t have to look at it Eds. Tommy is just angry and lashing out. It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”
“What the fuck, Steve?” Robin hisses. “Of course it means something.”
Eddie looks between Steve and Robin, then holds out his hand. Robin unlocks her phone and passes it to Eddie. “No, don’t,” Steve says. But it’s too late.
Eddie’s face changes instantly, horror and shame and anger. “That homophobic little shit,” Eddie says through clenched teeth.
Steve wants to be the one to comfort him, but Robin and Nancy beat him to it. Nancy lowers the hand with the phone in it so he doesn’t look at it anymore. “Want us to kill that guy for you? Because we can totally kill that guy for you.”
Nancy glares at Robin, but says nothing. Eddie lets out a choked laugh. “It’ll still be there tomorrow.”
Nancy says, “We can report it. Robin, flag it as inappropriate.” Robin takes the phone from Eddie and taps away at it.
“Eddie, I’m—”
Steve starts, but he gets nowhere because Eddie turns on him. “It always comes back to you, doesn’t it?”
“What?” Steve asks.
“All the taunting freshman year, and when Tommy broke my hand. Then you show up telling me you can make me popular, get my band on the stage at Battle of the Bands.” He is pointing violently at Steve now; he steps back to avoid being stabbed by his finger, but Eddie follows.
“But that asshole was there, behind you, waiting for the moment to shame me all over again. And here it is.” He throws his hand back toward Robin and her phone. Nancy and Robin watch on, horrified looks on their faces. “If you weren’t around, Steve, none of this would happen. I wouldn’t be under the spotlight for Tommy to pick me apart all over again.”
Jeff and Gareth walk out of the house just then. They instantly pick up on Eddie’s anger and respond accordingly, walking toward them.
“Eddie, I didn’t—”
“Why?” Eddie cries, his face dry but voice threatens angry tears. “What do you want Steve?”
Steve is shocked into silence. Things had been going so well tonight and in the span of three minutes, the night has turned into hell. He is in no way prepared for this. “I don’t want anything.” He stutters and corrects himself, “I want to make sure you are ok. I want to punch Tommy for doing that.”
“Stop,” Eddie says, gripping the sides of his head. “That’s not what I’m talking about. Why did you start being nice to me after over two years of silence and one of hell?”
Steve swallows hard, knowing the true answer to that question. But it’s not the one he wants to give, not just because it would crush Eddie in this moment. The bet may have been the spark to start him talking to Eddie, but everything since then has kept him around. What he wants is more of Eddie, his laughter, his friendship, his music, his antics.
The words won’t come out. Eddie shakes his head and walks away, Jeff and Gareth changing course to follow him.
It takes Steve’s brain a moment to catch up, to step out towards Eddie to follow him, but Robin and Nancy are there to stop him. “Let him go,” Robin says, her hand on Steve’s shoulder.
“He needs time,” Nancy says, her arms wrapped around herself.
“I don’t understand what happened.”
Nancy tilts her head at Steve and makes a sympathetic noise. “Of course not, Steve. The hurt of that sort of post isn’t something you as a stra—”
Robin reaches out to silence Nancy. She responds with confusion but Robin mouths, I’ll tell you later. “I think you do understand, Steve. Put yourself in Eddie’s shoes. Imagine if Tommy had put your sexuality on the chopping block like that.” She says the last line slowly, like each individual word needs a moment to sink through Steve’s thick skull. Still, it doesn’t work.
“Eddie brought me here,” he says as they watch Eddie disappear down the driveway. “Can you give me a ride home?”
Nancy nods her head and reaches her arm out to wrap around his middle. Robin does the same on the other side, her arm covering Nancy’s.
Steve’s mind is drying concrete. Each second that passes, it is harder to think, harder to comprehend what happened. Eddie’s words mix with Tommy’s from the post and there is a voice over of Robin’s words too, only they are all overlapping and Steve can’t make sense of any of it. Each word is a singular bee and together they form a swarm; Steve is swatting at them, trying to protect his face, trying to get away from them. Without knowing it, though, he is walking toward the edge of a precipice.
On the way home, Robin and Nancy try to talk him down. “This isn’t just a situation of normal, average bullying, Steve,” Robin said.
Steve doesn’t understand what she means. Sure, Tommy implied that Eddie was doing gay things but that doesn’t mean anything.
“It does.” Robin turns around in her seat and looks Steve in the eye. “You know, right?”
“Know what?” Steve asks.
Nancy glances in the rearview mirror to catch Steve’s eye. “Eddie’s gay.”
Steve slips down in his seat as everything that Tommy says about Eddie re-contextualizes in his mind. Freshman year, when Tommy had cornered him in the hallway, drug Steve with him, he’d taunted Eddie by calling him gay boy. Steve assumed that it was just a way to shame him, to make him feel less than. “So, the post from tonight…that’s why he said Tommy was being homophobic.”
Robin nods her head eagerly. “Yes, exactly and so? What might Eddie have felt about it?”
“Like he was being attacked for something he…can’t control?” Robin and Nancy both make noises of agreement, urging him on. “So he is angry and hurt.”
“When you experience something homophobic like that, it crushes your soul, Steve,” Robin says. “You turn inward, against yourself and want to tear out that which makes you different. But you can’t and so each time you do something that is natural to you, then you begin to hate yourself. It takes forever to unlearn it.”
Nancy reaches across the car and takes Robin’s hand. They share a moment and communicate something with just a look. “It can be worse, or different I guess, when you think you are straight.”
Nancy and Steve dated sophomore year. Steve always thought they were a good couple, up until Halloween and Nancy’s blow up. They were in the bathroom at a party and Nancy kept repeating, “This is bullshit,” over and over again. Steve hadn’t understood that night or when she broke up with him. But eventually, she was able to explain that she was interested in girls. Only. By that time, Steve already knew Robin, already knew she was a lesbian, so he took it in stride. Even introduced them, figuring that Robin could help Nancy somehow.
“What do you mean, Nance?” Steve asks.
Nancy sighs and returns her hand to the wheel as they enter Hawkins proper. “Because you never admit to yourself that you think you are attracted to someone you aren’t supposed to be attracted to. And then people will say something homophobic, something demeaning. Instantly you feel shame but you can’t place why. So while those that know early learn to hate themselves because they are queer, people who experience compulsory hetero-normativity learn to hate themself but never know why. Not until they come to terms with it.”
Robin reaches over and rubs Nancy’s shoulder. “And you’ve come so far, love.”
Steve sits quietly in the back of the car the rest of the way home. He doesn’t let himself think about what Nancy’s story makes him feel, brings up in him, until he gets home.
Robin walks him to the door when they get to his house. “Listen, Steve,” she says, grabs his upper arms. “I think it’s time you faced your past. I’m not gonna lie to you, you were an asshole. You did homophobic things.” Steve nods at this. He knows he did, not that he would’ve had the language to describe it as such at the time, and he’s been working to make it up ever since. “And some of those things were specifically to Eddie.”
“I know, Robin,” Steve whispers.
“You need to think about why that is, what motivated you to do that. Whatever you realize, if you didn’t know, I’ll be there for you.” Robin punches his arm, hard.
“Ow,” he says. He rubs the sore spot on his arm. “Thanks, Rob.”
Upstairs, in his room, he flops down on the bed and stairs at the ceiling, allowing his thoughts to go where they will. And where they go is a route of torture, a running movie of the night, of Eddie’s words, of the pain in his face. His brain fills in angles that he wouldn’t have seen from, adding in excruciating detail like the way Eddie’s lip may have trembled, how tears clung along the water line of his eyes, the way his hands shook as he held Robin’s phone. Somehow this torture feels good, feels right. He hurt Eddie, with his carelessness and thoughtlessness, his being unprepared for the harm Tommy would do. If he hurts now, like this, it is compensation for the harm he let happen to Eddie. Tonight and over the years.
He picks up his phone and opens the app for the Battle of the Bands voting. The first screen shows the current top 5, those that when the voting ends will play on the stage at the final show. Corroded Coffin is currently at number 5. He taps the tab for the voting, scrolls down to Corroded Coffin, and submits his vote. He voted yesterday, but today it doesn’t feel like success. It feels like pity.
With that accomplished, Steve’s eyes go back to the ceiling and his self-selected punishment. But as the minutes tick by, his brain shifts focus, to the conversation with the girls in the car. Nancy talked about feeling shame but not knowing why. Because of the way his dad raised him, Steve knows the feeling of shame intimately. That well is deep and filled mostly with the experiences of disappointing his father. To plumb those depths is more than he can do right now.
Robin told him to think about why he was a homophobic asshole. But all his memories go back to Tommy. It was always Tommy who said the hateful things and Steve who remained silent. The glare that Tommy would give him as he said those things, it was like he was challenging him…but Steve couldn’t say what he was challenging him to do.
It reminds Steve of all the times Tommy challenged him, when it was just the two of them. The look was the same; eyes narrowed, brow lowered, no movement in his irises. The air between them is charged and magnetic, pulling him into the storm whether he wants it or not. Steve focuses on himself, the way Tommy made him feel in those moments. He recognizes the feeling. Its warmth, its possibility, the lightness and fizz like soda or Pop Rocks. He recognizes that feeling from being with Tommy. From his time with Nancy and some of the other girls he dated. He recognizes that feeling from one other place too.
He supposes that this is what Robin meant with her last words to him on the porch: “Whatever you realize, if you didn’t know, I’ll be there for you.” He didn’t know, not back then, not even as recently as this evening. But he does now.
Too bad, she didn’t tell him what to do next.