The Politics of Being Eddie Munson

Chapter Two: When Love Knocks, Give It A Cigarette

"Seriously, Eddie?" Gareth whined at the older boy. Eddie had flung his backpack into Gareth's face as the metalhead sat in his seat at the back of his English class. "One day, you're gonna give me a black eye, you dickhead!"

Eddie looked up as he bent over, unzipping his bag as it sat on the tile floor of the classroom. "Don't be such a baby, Gareth. My bag's not even heavy." Eddie sat up then, composition notebook in hand with the words Eddie M's English Notes sloppily written into the white box on the cover.

"How would you like it if I slapped my book bag into your face?" Gareth asked with a raised brow. "Better yet, my notebook?" He gripped it in his hand tightly.

"Do it." Eddie edged on with a grin and a raise of his brow.

Gareth reached over then and slapped Eddie across his cheek with his notebook. Eddie laughed, and Gareth giggled- everyone else in the class looked at them with disgust. Through the boys' fit of laughter, they didn't notice the click of heels walking up to their desks. Once the smell of an older lady's perfume hit the two boys' noses, they stopped laughing. The two looked up to their teacher, Mrs. Mayweather, and smiled.

"How can we help you today, Mrs. M?" Eddie lolled his head to the side.

"Detention." the teacher spoke, handing Gareth a pink slip of paper with the word written across it in black ink.

"What about Eddie?" Gareth quizzed, head motioning to the metalhead.

"You did the slapping, Mr. Gareth. Maybe you should use your time in detention to write an essay on what it means to keep your hands to yourself." Mrs. Mayweather spoke with her chin turned in disgust. The rest of the class laughed. "Stop acting like a five-year-old and get to working on the morning prompt." With that, she walked back to her desk.

Eddie bit his lip, trying to hold his laugh the best he could.

"You're gonna owe me for this, Eddie," Gareth spoke as he waved his detention slip in front of Eddie's face. "You're gonna owe me. I don't know what for, but you will."

"I'll let you make the first decision in Friday's D&D game." Eddie smiled as he looked at the chalkboard. He squinted his eyes- no, he doesn't need glasses- and tried to determine what Mrs. M's sloppy cursive writing said. "What the fuck does that say?" Eddie whispered.

"It says to write about your favorite author." Jeff (Eddie's other friend) spoke from the other side of the metalhead.

"Favorite- favorite author? Who the fuck has a favorite author?"

"Mine is Charles Dickens." Jeff shrugged, turning back to his writing.

"Who the hell is that?" Eddie wondered as he tapped his pencil on his desk.

"Have you ever heard of A Christmas Carol?" Gareth asked.

"Yeah."

"That's Charles Dickens."

"Oh."

"You've never paid attention in this class a day in your life, have you?" the boy snickered.

"Hey, I try my best. It's hard to do when your mind is- somewhere else." Eddie sighed on the last part of the sentence.

Eddie's mind seemed to always be farther away than everyone else's. If it wasn't Eddie thinking about his music, D&D, or how to make enough money to keep the lights in the trailer on, it was thinking about his love for men. Sure, he'd screw anyone willing- if anyone was willing- but his heart beats for his same gender. Most importantly, his heart beat for Steve Harrington.