The tallest hill Hawkins benefited from was Barry Carter's hideout every Friday night. Him, and the portable radio station on batteries that Barry had put every ounce of his skill into during his work breaks. And if anyone knew Japanese, then they'd understand the conversation which made him break his numbness for sincere smiles went somewhere along those lines.
"... and you told them you're taking a longer shift?" Laughter broke from the other side, a girl's voice, "Don't they know you hate that stupid cinema job?"
"Apparently not," Barry replied, just as invested in making fun of the situation. "Everyone's too on the edge at home to notice anything about each other."
Everyone but me, Barry held himself back from telling his friend over the radio.
"No one would admit it," he sighed in continuation, "but the way we lost mom threw us all off. There's a crack in our family. Even in me."
"I thought you used those incense rituals in your room, like I told you."
"I did. But it didn't help with the nightmares."
There was silence on his friend's side, compelling the awkwardness of a forced smile to show on his features and into his tone.
"But these Friday's of catching up with you are a blessing and that's mine alone."
Once again, silence came from her end. Barry's right hand fired towards the antenna, but right before he disturbed the already miraculously good signal, her laughter came through, "Because God forbid your father finds out you're keeping in touch with your Takayama Ane. Then he'd know too well that you are not over Japan."
"Yeah...," Barry bowed his head, embarrassed, but aware he shouldn't have expected anything else but being perfectly read by Ane.
"Gee, Barry," Ane chuckled, "if I didn't already know your type, I'd think you and I were in the midst of a one-sided secret relationship." After she had her fill of laughter, her tone dropped, "How are you holding up though?"
Barry hesitated before sighing into the communication line, "I'm alright." He didn't even believe himself. So Barry chuckled shortly, "Dad's being an annoying absentee. He thinks I am back to stay and it shows. Devin's a prick to Sam and Billie..." There, he halted his words and hesitated a little longer, remembering his sister's try that morning to call him by the nickname from when they were younger. "She's stuck in the past," he finally coldly added.
"That's all nice, but I asked about you, not about them," Ane sighed.
"Tsk, you got me," Barry's laugh turned into a deep sigh and though she couldn't hear that, he shrugged. "I'm just focusing on my routines. Staying active, making sure they're all safe and ready that when this job gets me enough money, they'll be okay with me leaving." There, a melancholic smile built on his features. "I am positive I'll make it back in time for Christmas."
"Christmas is a whole year away, sweetie."
His face, scrunched in a grimace, begged for her not to remind him of that, but the radio showed none of these finesse details through its strangely steady connection. Ane couldn't know of his expression any less than how she could not possibly be aware at least five different species of bugs have touched Barry's skin as he sat in the grass. There was no way for her to tell that it was windy and warm and humid and he was sweating and freezing at the same time.
"Enough about me," he cleared his throat quickly with a cough, "tell me about Japan."
"Japan is and will always be fine," Ane monotonously answered. "Nothing changed here... Crime rates keep going up in the city and no one dares to talk about it," her ironic laugh slipped through, shivering. "As I was saying, nothing changes here."
"Come on," Barry's pout would transcend distance and remind Ane just how innocent this absolute psycho could be sometimes. The little American man who wanted to visit Japan, so he went across the whole world, got himself all sorts of weird jobs, all below his level of intelligence, just to live in her home country. He romanticized every breath he took there, all because of the Japanese songs his mother had once bought from a yard sale for him. He was six when he fell in love with a country. "That's not what I meant..."
Ane chuckled, "Right, forgot you're a gossiping little bitch." Only Ane could insult Barry and make him feel grateful for it. "Well, Mayumi is thinking of properly dating that guy who always talks with her at the club. Big mistake..."
In the passage of time, Ane's voice had faded away until it played as the background to Barry's fantasy of never having returned to America. Remorse sprung flowers in the garden of all his fears and he trembled at the horrors which were embedded so deeply into this land. These beautiful fields were soaked in red and they were invading a ground which did not want them there.
Every time he thought about his family, he got this carnage of a feeling, dwelling from the realm of the unknown that had taken their mother from them. But Ane talked and momentarily, every lie was worth it to get away from his cursed life for a night.
In a perfect world, he would convince his family of the sickness poisoning America and they'd join him in Japan. Tthere, maybe these demons of the past would stop making Sam shiver at every shadow. Devin would get closer to his family again and perhaps Billie's emotions would return a level of normalcy without swinging between extremes.
His hatred for his father wasn't going to change though, not even in this fantasy reality Barry enjoyed to imagine on Friday nights. As the oldest, he had felt the full strength of a parent's control, along with the nuances of expectations and demands without refund.
Eventually, the batteries ran out and his conversation with Ane had to turn radio silent. The whole of the device got crammed inside his work bag again and with a sigh of loneliness and a deeply rooted emotion of constant melancholy, Barry started walking back home through one of the usual shortcuts: the trailer park.
Everyone must have already been sleeping, because it was quiet in that neighborhood. Thankfully for him. He was awkward in human relations, especially in English, and if a Japanese word decided to slip him in front of the people of Hawkins, he'd sooner get booed out of the town than get home in one piece.
Through this walk, he dared wonder: did Billie and Devin follow Sam's wish for a family dinner with a movie? If they did, he hoped it went well.
Lights were scarce and the ground, slightly humid from the spring's grip on nights and days alike from here on, was swallowing the sound of his steps. With a scrunch of his nose, Barry lifted his glasses back up the crooked bridge. He knew how to cut the shortest road out of the trailer park, from which, at this pace, their neighborhood was only ten minutes away.
Wind blew through the trees surrounding the trailer park and since Barry was aiming to approach that edge, he looked up in time to see green leaves twist and turn, swirling their dance until the whole forest turned into a dangerous sea, roaring a wave in a menacing, alluring call. Like a siren, Barry almost felt the forest calling him directly into its depths, to just roam and get lost.
He had mindlessly taken a step towards the rustling leaves whispering his name in echoes, when he realized one step turned into a dozen and he was in the forest's shadow. A dog's barking woke him up and his foot slipped on a patch of dirt far more humid than the rest.
Barry spun around, electrocuted by the distant scream of someone. He looked back at the trailer park and recognized someone running out of their supposed home, shaking his way into his car and driving off. Eddie Munson. But in his leaving, through the cracked door, he glimpsed at the broken body of the Cunningham girl.
Suddenly, he felt like the whole forest was watching with him too, with a thousand eyes which did not cower and shiver at the sight of murder, but snickered, satisfied. A low hum made Barry scramble to his feet and run the opposite way, straight through the forest, as fast as he could, without looking back. It was the need to go home that turned the road doable in under five minutes.
Hours later, Billie Carter couldn't find it in herself to wake Eddie up the following morning.
Tough times were ahead for them both and he was going to need every second a sleep that he could get and she had no hope in benefiting from. It would have been generous to say she even napped for an hour through the night they were leaving behind for a tumultuous sunrise. A few neighborhoods away, sirens and the buzz of a shocked crowd, barely waking up, gathered around the Munson trailer.
Billie was so dazed from her restlessness, that she almost thought that image to be vividly forming before her eyes. She's been far too scared of what nightmares her mind would conjure to afford more than just a frequent fade between sleep and awakeness, until Eddie's wristwatch told her it was time to make a choice.
Follow his request or make sure they are all safe.
Eddie's soft snores continued even after she sat up, tucked him better into the old blanket and got compelled to stare at his relaxed features.
Billie conducted a stare long enough to help her memorize everything about his face, about this peaceful mist between the delves in his skin, under the shadows of his hair, soft at touch. It was what she wanted to snap a picture of in her mind, to have it with herself at all times in order to willingly walk herself into possible danger, alone.
"I need to know if it's back," Billie's desperation puzzled itself through a sighed mumble, a quiet storm of emotion. The tips of her fingers twisted his bangs slowly, getting them off his forehead. It wouldn't last, this slide back of his untamed hair, so she leant in quickly, leaving a light kiss on the spot she revealed.
Oh, how she wished it could have been longer. If only that connection dove a little deeper and satisfied her need to be with him before taking the matter into her own hands. But no matter her desires, she ghosted the peck as a hope of not waking him up.
Light as a feather, there was no chance her goodbye would perturb a deep sleep such as his. All that stress wore him down and to feel safe somewhere was the ultimate knockout hit for him.
Billie was not cruel though. Aware she may as well walk to the haunting grounds of a demonic presence, she left notes behind which would first serve as her cover and second as an inner reassurance that she did not leave without any sort of goodbye. There was a note for Eddie, one for Sam and one on the kitchen table, for anyone who found it first, be it Barry or Devin.
Almost immediately after her mysterious quick stop in the garage, the house started waking up. Devin got ready to leave first and he was the one to grab the note from the kitchen table with a frown and a squint.
His sister's message was a brief warning that she'd be busy with her rocket project all day long, but knowing what he saw the other day... "Or she's just out smoking with Munson," he huffed mid eye roll. The paper scrunched into his tightening fist, turned into an uneven ball and got tossed in the nearest bin.
Barry Carter was not feeling well and that was first and foremost obvious from the fact that it was well past eight in the morning and he was still locked in his room. Sitting on the edge of his bed, in futile attempts he hoped to calm his shaking hands for hours now. His shoes, which he forgot to take off, were mud-filled. His glasses had cracked and his hair held the signs of the forest: leaves and little twigs. Below his eyes, the white night hung in dark circles.
Hearing Devin's characteristic slam of the door downstairs on his way out made Barry flinch out of the trance of shivers and cold chills which purged his being for God knows how long. He's been standing there, a statue, and he just caught life again. Only, scrambling to his feet, he discovered his legs grew numb, so they failed him and he knocked his desk further into the wall trying to stop himself from falling over.
A guilty consciousness looked horrible on Barry Carter. Deep within, he loathed himself for not acting on what he had seen last night sooner. Damn the consequences of his lie about a "longer shift"; hiding himself was not worth living in this terror that he's helping a possible killer get away with murder. He saw crucial information and he left the house ten minutes after Devin, hell bent on telling the cops everything.
Sam's room was dipped in utter silence, trapped between a laid out mess. Figurines marched in stillness across the carpet on the floor, turned into a battlefield he orchestrated on his own to reenact a story he's been reading for school. His backpack was still closed and his desk was filled with scrambled pictures dancing their circles around his little camera.
In their father's eyes Barry was the masterpiece with an analytical mind. Devin was a promising artist, who Sam had heard dad talk about bending his dream towards architecture. Billie was smart enough to understand physics, but even without the peer pressure from her family, it was obvious she could have a future in the music industry too, no matter how much they teased her.
Sam was feeling left behind by his older siblings and his room was the messed up canvas of him trying to rush through childhood while still clinging to silly games as much as he could.
His sheets and heavy blanket ruffled up while he turned on his other side. The fur of Billie's teddy bear -something which wasn't supposed to be there anymore- tickled his nose and that unexpected interruption from peaceful sleep made his hand flinch upwards. He kicked the toy out of his bed and his palm landed over the note his sister left behind for him especially.
The youngest Carter would sleep for one more hour, before he even realized he was left home alone. With the note in hand, Sam sleepily inspected the house on his way downstairs, rubbing his eyes every once in a while and yawning. He took his time, because the teddy bear already gave away to him that the note was from his sister. It could wait to be read until he got himself to check the doors for being locked from the inside, then until he strolled to the kitchen, got himself a glass of water by stepping on the helping chair they helped around until a growth suddenly happened to him as well.
Sam was not going to read that note until he had a civilized waking routine which included turning on the local radio and opening the fridge. His hand grabbed the neck of the milk bottle when the words spoken on the news made his heart drop for a reason which didn't click until he started listening properly.
"... a new murder puts the Hawkins Police on the run this morning."
His stomach twisted and he let go of the milk before even lifting it off the shelf. Sam closed the fridge and with his eyes growing wide in panic, he unfolded the message left by his sister.
"Eddie's in trouble and I need to help him," read the first sentence. "Do not freak out, but he'll be hiding in our basement for a while now and I need that to be a secret just between you and me. Tell no one. And if the news tries to say anything bad about him today, please don't listen. They're as full of crap as they've been when covering our mother's death."
Sam gasped. Did his sister actually mention their past without covering it up in a joking metaphor? He blinked a few times and reread the last sentence. That was when he heard the door to the basement click and creak open.
Eddie read his own note, just about five minutes ago, when he woke up to having the whole blanket and pillow to himself. He first cursed as loudly as his sore throat could without drinking some water first, then struggled to read what immediately sent his heart in an overdrive of rapidness.
"Sorry, baby, I know you didn't want me doing this, but I need you to trust me on this one. I just need to take a quick look, be sure I can prove this was a demonic attack and it had nothing to do with you. I love you and please don't leave the basement until I get back."
"Fuck, no," Eddie shook his head. Cowardice made him grimace, but a spark of recklessness already turned him blind to reason and he rushed up the few stairs to exit the basement. As soon as he opened the door, a child opened his arms and tried to block his way.
"No!"
"Sam?" Eddie tilted his head to the side, pretty sure the only tiny fellow supposed to live in Billie's house was the infamous little brother.
"Billie said you should be hiding in our basement," Sam rushed to explain. He had seen Eddie around a lot, mostly while he helped Billie sneak out of the house, but also through the school fences. He hung out with Lucas Sinclair's friends, for the Hellfire Club. Lucas was known to him only through Erica, who was one of the few people of the same age with him that were worth his interest and perhaps stutter every once in a while when she graced him with attention.
But this wasn't about Erica... Sam shook his head and reminded himself even though the older guy was much taller than him, which immediately made him intimidating, he's always been nice enough to smile and wave if they actively crossed paths. And of course, there was also the matter of D&D flashing right before Sam's eyes in the shape of all the times he begged Billie to pull some strings and get him on the Hellfire Club while she countlessly reminded him that will only happen when he's older.
Well, the leader of the Hellfire Club was about to need his basement for a hideout. The tables truly turned.
"Billie told you that?" Eddie asked the kid slowly.
Sam nodded eagerly, "Her note also said you're into some sort of trouble and she's trying to help you out."
"Your sister is getting herself into trouble-"
"She knows what she's doing," the little brother insisted. "I thought you dated her, shouldn't you already know that about her?"
Kids these days, Eddie couldn't help but think, while his mind immediately pictured Dustin Henderson carrying the same attitude as Sam Carter here, always hitting the ego with the right words.
"I can also make breakfast if you stay," Sam offered. "I know how to use the stove."
"Knowing and being allowed to use it are very different from each other...," Eddie pointed out, but after his voice trailed off, he shrugged. "But I ain't your family so you do you."
"Rad," Sam smiled his toothy grin. "While we're at it, and this is me shooting my shot, by the way, could we talk about my application to your club?"
"Hellfire?" Now, Eddie was absolutely startled. Sam hit him with one of those looks given in sarcasm to obvious questions. "You into D&D, kid?"
"Of course I am, just don't tell dad."
Eddie's face contorted in a peculiar little grimace helping his voice, deepened by the need to hydrate, match his intention, "I am not planning on meeting your dad any time soon."
Billie lost count of how many times she actually successfully sneaked into the trailer park, with or without Eddie's help, just so they could spend some time together. Even with cops posted all around and a continuous buzz of restless people gossiping after a body mysteriously left the Munson trailer, walking in the neighborhood unseen was still an instinctive breeze for her.
By her left hand was dangling the rosary she took from the stash her father kept in the garage. He had a few throughout the house, but the ones in the dark box in the garage were saved for the future prospect of her and Devin or even Sam getting a car of their own. No one would notice a rosary from that box going missing any time soon and she counted on it.
While watching the beads swing in the wind, Billie recalled from the swarm of similar memories that one time she loved it the most to sneak into his home. They were holding hands the whole way there, because December was mercilessly nipping their cheeks with frost until they both blushed crazily. She couldn't feel her hands, even with gloves on and he wasn't wearing any.
The same path they took then together, Billie now walked alone.
"Come on, I promise the heat is on inside," Eddie's ghost followed her from the brighter depths of her memories. His laughter still gave her faint chills.
Like they did together, she hid behind his trailer and searched under the rock for a little white plastic bag holding some of the chicken bones from whatever was eaten in his household during the week. Billie was way past disgust. She picked up a bone, turned around and looked around the corner. She already knew she had it in her to toss that bone at the dog about to bark if it saw her there without first having a treat. All she now had to do was check if anyone was watching, then aim.
The bone landed past the fence and an energetic little dog sniffed it once, getting to chewing right away.
"You're a natural," Billie heard the echo of Eddie's praise right beside her. It made her smile, despite the circumstances of her visit changing drastically, as the weather too turned from the dreadful coldness of winter to the infuriating chill of a spring morning before the heat of the afternoon.
She checked the perimeter once again and finally stepped out of the hiding spot, hurrying to the door while no one was looking. The patrol on duty just then was busy calming down neighbors, so Billie benefitted from a little opening to knock on the door. She started counting down ten seconds. If Eddie's uncle was not home, then she'd just take the spare key they hid outside, in the spot he had shown her before, in a mad outlet of trust in the very beginning of their relationship.
Having had a whole walk as time to think about excuses, Billie thought she was ready for anything. Until the door opened and an old man looked down at her.
"Hi, Mr. Munson," she put on a bright smile, "sorry to disturb. I am-"
"I know who you are," he cut her off. In a deep sigh and a slow blink, the man breathed out a growing cloud of smoke. "You're my nephew's girlfriend," he said.
Too stunned to answer, the man had all the time in the world to put the cigarette between his lips, suck in some of what it had to give too, while his hands searched his pockets. "Figured out that much," his words got distorted to a mumbled faintness, before he finally found a square picture, handing it over to her. "He keeps that next to his guitar at all times and he fucking worships that thing."
Billie looked down at a picture she knew exactly when they took. The memory was so vivid she almost smelled the corn and pumpkin pies again. Halloween festival, 1985. One of their first true dates.
It was night and dark, they had to stay after closing and Eddie bribed a worker into letting them get into one of those photobooths too. She kept two of the pictures because he let her choose which ones she liked. He kept the third, which he claimed was much better than the others anyway, because they were both stoned on laughter in its purest uncontrollable form. They looked ridiculous and she couldn't believe he was enough of an idiot sweetheart to keep this photo in such a visible and important place.
But since she never saw it... it also meant that he took it down whenever she was supposed to come over.
"I took it before the cops arrived," Eddie's uncle confessed, leaning in the doorway. He regained her attention. Billie looked up at him and he continued with a shrug, "Didn't want them bothering you. 'Specially since I'm pretty sure you know where he's at."
Billie opened her mouth but he raised his hand to stop her. The cigarette was between his fingers. "Don't tell me. I just need to know he's safe. Cops may not have released his name yet, but he's the main suspect. They're looking for him."
"You think he's guilty?" Billie's voice shivered.
"No," Mr. Munson answered simply, seeing the relief immediately relax the girl's shoulders. That was enough for him to understand that at least when it comes to love, his nephew was lucky. "I saw the body, and he may look scary sometimes, but my nephew ain't capable of mutilating a girl like that. I don't know what the hell happened, but he didn't do it."
"That's what I am here for," Billie's hope started rising by the second. "Trying to find anything which helps me prove his innocence. So, please, can I take a quick look inside?"
Mr. Munson stepped aside and while Billie entered the trailer with an audible sigh of relief, he noticed the rosary, twisted around her left hand.
"You religious, girl?"
He closed the door behind her.
"Not really."
She didn't even look him in the eyes and Mr. Munson felt the chill of what she meant by that.
Billie walked carefully in a place she's been at many times before. She was familiar with the walls, with the mess, with the cramped space and to what corners she should dodge, which she should expect to be different and which not. It was curious to think that she's been there so many times and not even once did she feel anything but safety there. Then again, it was probably Eddie's presence, not the place itself. Now, she felt...
Nothing in particular.
Though, being honest with herself, Billie knew she had no idea what she was truly looking for and by the time she reached the exact spot in which Chrissy died, it no longer mattered whether or not she thought she knew anything about demons. Ash particles fell from the ceiling right over Billie's nose and as they suspended in air, she sneezed through them.
Her eyes sparked up in hatred, but they widened immediately. Fear dilated her pupils because what she saw on the ceiling Chrissy had floated towards looked exactly as the rot on the Carter's old living room's ceiling, in the very place the demon killed their mother.
Staring at it now, much closer to her, took Billie's breath away.
"Hey," Mr. Munson had watched Billie stare up at that thing he explained as some weird leak rotting away and molding his ceiling, without moving and without even blinking. His voice did not bring her back.
A sharp, short knock on the trailer door flinched her right out of the momentary trance of fear, right back into pure terror to turn around and see the man lazily go back to the door. "Be quiet and they won't even know you're here," he sighed towards Billie. "Do your thing a little faster though. It's probably... just another reporter."
Billie still backed away, to be certain. She went towards Eddie's room because that mark on the ceiling was all the proof she needed for herself to be sure this was some otherworldly shit, demonic madness going on. Walking backwards slowly so the ground did not creak, Billie heard Nancy Wheeler's unmistakable voice.
"You're Wayne Munson, aren't you?" she asked. "Eddie's uncle."
Billie backed away another step and she slowly started closing the door to Eddie's room, hoping no sound was made by the old thing which had the bad habit of creaking way too much. She caught Wayne Munson telling Nancy off and also the beginning of her persuading speech. The door was almost closed when she caught a part of the conversation which got her attention so she stopped moving and just listened.
"Let me tell your side of the story," Nancy had made a big promise to the man who, as far as Billie could tell, was struggling between the terror of finding the body and worrying for his nephew, to also clean up the place after the cops have left it a mess. Some things in Eddie's room were broken too, but Billie was pleased to look back at the mirrored wardrobe and at least note that his guitar was alright. Not a scratch on it, as always.
"My nephew, he may look dangerous, but he didn't do this," Wayne chewed slowly on his words and Billie just knew Nancy was soaking in every syllable, much like herself. "It just... ain't in his nature. No matter what anyone says, and they will say things, believe me." Billie dreaded that idea, of hours turning into days and the longer it took her to gather enough proof, the deeper the stain on his name got, until even with or without being declared innocent, the whole town would still hate him. That would make this place not worth living in and another move... Billie wasn't ready to consider that option yet.
"But this... wasn't Eddie," he spoke. Billie thought the luck was on her side, hearing a fairly good detective like Nancy make someone who had seen the body talk. "The man who did this... who killed that poor girl, he's pure evil."
"Man?" Nancy asked that outside and Billie mouthed that confused, while hiding inside the trailer.
"You think you know who might have done this?" Nancy asked and Billie drew nearer to the door, hoping she didn't touch it in any way that would erect giveaway sounds that she was there.
"You ever heard the name Victor Creel?"
Billie looked around quickly and through the disorder of the place, she reached out on the nearest surface, grabbing a pen holding a mark in one of his many notebooks, mostly filled with intelligible drawings and writing. She clicked it and wrote the name down on her wrist, even though all this action made her lose track of whatever Nancy and Wayne were discussing. The barking of the little dog outside was her cue, raising her gaze from her cursive writing: she had to get out of there.
Billie finally backed away from the door and turned to rush towards the window in his room. A quick glance at his guitar, a true masterpiece, was worth a halt in her steps. At the back of her mind she recalled that winter night in which he sneaked them in his room.
"Wanna play on it?" He had asked her then, while he collapsed on his bed, shameless enough to straight up lay back. Something laid in his curious gaze then which Billie didn't understand for a while. The idea of her playing on his guitar was an aphrodisiac because then, he'd have a memory of who and what he loved most together.
"Me? Oh, no...," Billie had shaken her head flustered back then. "Do you really want me to defile your baby with my 'baby tunes'?"
"Ah!" Eddie stood up immediately, pointing a finger at her. "Using my words against me, sneaky." His chuckle was contagious and now that he only sat at the edge of his bed, she got the boldness to sit beside him too. He kept on stealing glances at her as if having a long proper stare was going to get him killed. It might have: Eddie's heart was beating abnormally, either too fast or too slow, struggling between his hitched breaths.
"I could teach you how to play a better song," Eddie had offered, leaning his head to the side, towards her. A crooked grin tried to play some confidence on his face, but both of them knew that he was nervous: his pitched tone simply had given it away too easily.
Billie remembered why she had looked at that guitar so borderline sad... The acoustic guitar was her father's middle ground deal. He wanted her to play piano, she wanted to be the next big rockstar, so he got her an acoustic guitar and told her that's as far as she was ever going to get as a girl. Eddie didn't know that back then, but he'd learn about it in February, exactly two months later.
"Maybe some other time," she had denied his offer with a polite little smile, however, once she had moved her head towards him, her heart stopped at the realization that he looked more serious. Of course, looking closely made him notice just how sad she seemed sometimes. It flustered her back then to be seen as anything else but her perfect allure she created for herself as a shell to protect that scared little Billie who looked demons in the eyes.
So she had turned her head away and moved her backpack off her shoulders, into her lap, zipped it open carefully and slid her hands inside. "Actually, I was about to give you something..."
"No way," Eddie had whispered already.
"Call it a Christmas present."
"No way!" He got up then, making her laugh and get even more flustered. Her face felt on fire and perhaps, Billie imagined, Eddie remembered this as her blushing furiously while she pulled out a little box from her bag and passed it over to him by holding it in both her hands.
Taking the box in his hands, Eddie had lowered down in a scrunch right before. Opening the box nervously enough for his hands to shake a little, he burst in a fit of giggles revealing a cassette. "You made me a mixtape?"
"You sound shocked." She had truly been worried for a second that he didn't like it, but Eddie dropped the box and hugged the cassette to his chest while getting up and turning towards his audio system to pop the cassette in already.
"You did just pass it to me like we were about to do drugs together, Billie Jean...," he trailed off, pressing down the play button and hearing the beginning of Wham's "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go". Billie's eyes had widened. She never planned for him to listen to the mixtape while she was there too. She had felt so embarrassed all of a sudden, something she could hardly hide when he turned around, aware of the lyrics, but more focused on his own train of thought.
"Are we-?"
"No," she immediately cut him off, eyes wide.
"I'm just fucking with you," Eddie laughed. "I know you don't like smoking. You scrunch your nose in anticipation of the displeasure when you see me roll one. Which is, frankly, quite adorable of you, did you know that?"
Billie blinked herself out of that memory at last, smiling at the room holding so many memories of theirs already. Six months had passed and she still saw the guitar, she still spotted the first cassette she gave him, now at the bottom of a pile made of ten others. Her motivation was hidden in everything surrounding her then. So she took a deep breath and suddenly, sneaking out his window became a walk through the park, especially as she most definitely fell out on the other side and had to count a few moments before making a run for it to get out of the trailer park unnoticed.
Only she didn't leave truly unnoticed.
Her run woke the dog up again and turned Nancy's head away from the forest and back towards the homes in time to recognize her. "Billie Carter...?" Nancy mumbled. That was, easily said, the last person she'd think would sneak into the Munson trailer after a murder happened there. "Weird."
( new closinf gif made by the wonderful anatisii )
author's note: now THIS was a very long chapter hence why it took me two days to post
( that and also my boss being hella rude with me at work and that kinda draining me ehh )
BUT GOSHHH, the amount of important things happening in this chapter.. gotta love how eddie and billie's "secret" seems to be discovered by more and more people, only they all kinds get the wrong idea.
however, SAM IS THEIR BIGGEST FAN AT LEAST
which part of this chapter did you like most?
I have a few favorites, like as a writer i loved playing with memories through billie's pov on what she did on her own.
btw, this chapter is sort of dedicated to LUVPIN for making some very cute insta video edits for this book 💖💕 hyped me up big timee