EIGHT WEEKS LATER
( Saturday, May 25th 1985 )
"PLEASURE doing business with you," said Eddie as he pinched the money from Julie's hand without breaking eye contact.
Earlier over the phone when the both of them tried to work around meeting, it always somehow led to Eddie being miraculously busy. Whether he had another appointment or band practice in his friend's garage, he couldn't make the time. So, they resolved to meeting at Eddie's trailer before he left with his guitar to Gareth's house.
Course, Steve wasn't ecstatic about it, and she honestly wasn't jumping for joy either, but it was nice to see Eddie. She saw a lot of familiar faces last Saturday at the ceremony, but she missed his.
So, before he could chase her out of his living room, she asked, "Why didn't I see you at graduation?"
He shrugged, the hemming of his Anthrax shirt rising a little less than an inch. "Eighty-five wasn't my year."
She frowned. "I'm sorry."
His lips twisted up into a crooked smile. "I'm not."
And his animated behaviour was as infectious as ever because she side-smiled, too, before turning on her heel and heading for the door.
"Eighty-six will be the game changer," he continues. "Then I can finally get out of this shithole town."
She smirked over her shoulder as she pushed open the door by its handle. "At least that gives the world some extra time to prepare for the man, the myth, the legend himself."
His eyes followed her down the short walk down the steps. "You know it. And hey!"
She turned from where she landed on the dead grass.
"Say hi to the pretty boy boyfriend for me," he winked.
She chuckled once under her breath. "And you watch yourself for me." She left him with a smile riddled with warning and trod across the trailer park in her converses just peeking out underneath her wine-red bell-bottoms.
"Always do."
She responded with the wave of her hand in the air without looking back. But still, he kept an eye on her body swallowed by her leather bomber until it was a little further across the grass. He couldn't shake his smile, so he shook his head instead and disappeared behind the door.
Julie slipped into the passenger seat of the BMW.
"Secured. Oh and Eddie sends his warmest regards, by the way."
Steve rolled his eyes at the small smirk playing on her lips. "Yeah, I'm sure."
Her chest shook a little with her silent laughter, as she watched Steve start the car. The Clash flew out of the speakers seconds before he pulled out onto the main road.
It was not until Julie picked up on his fingers drumming against the steering wheel that she noticed he was mouthing along to the lyrics of the song and subtly bopping his head.
She couldn't hide her surprise. "You've memorised the lyrics now?"
"Are you kidding me?" Steve cried. "I love The Clash now."
Her eyebrows quirked sceptically.
"That is in spite of the fact the name sounds like someone thought it up whilst taking a whizz," she couldn't hold back her laugh, "but no, this is my favourite song." He reached over and turned it up slightly, suffocating them with the chorus that Steve didn't fail to obnoxiously sing along to.
"Sharif don't like it!" He tapped each hand against the wheel in turn after every word. "Rockin' the Casbah! Rock the Casbah!" And he kept going and going.
Her eyes were in slits at him, her nose scrunched up giving its bridge little wrinkles.
When he caught wind of her expression, he looked back at her blankly. "What?" He glimpsed at the road, smirking. Then back at her. "You don't like my voice?"
Once she relaxed her face, her smile didn't go anywhere. She wasn't sure it could with him at her side. "I just dig you that's all," she said softly.
He looked between her and the road once more, unable to shake a smile of his own. His chest was oozing with warmth.
"I mean, I should hope so," he remarked, making her roll her eyes and stare out her window instead.
He laughed to himself at the sight of her leaning her head against the glass. But when he glimpsed at the empty road ahead and then back her just sat there, the very same way that she was seconds prior, he felt something else.
So, he picked up her hand closet to him, taking it in his own, and brushed his lips against the back of it tenderly. The small gesture was enough to work up a smile on her face again. To a common onlooker, it would have seemed like the trees surrounding them were the prettiest thing she had ever seen.
He didn't let her hand go for the rest of the drive, and she didn't expect or want him to.
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Song Used: Rock the Casbah - The Clash