"Someone snuck up on me and shut the door to the janitor's closet, which locked me in. I've been trapped there since I left the band room, which you know all about."
Eddie swallowed.
Steve clicked his tongue.
"Well, it wasn't me, Eddie."
"Maybe not personally, but you had the idea, didn't you?" Eddie glared at him. "Just employed one of your apes to do it for you."
Steve reeled back.
"We may not get along, but I wouldn't try and kill you!" he exclaimed.
"That remains to be seen," Eddie muttered doubtfully.
"What, do I look like I want to be the next Vecna?"
Eddie didn't respond and Steve turned and walked down the hallway in the opposite direction. When he reached the end, he turned back around and came back to Eddie.
"Jesus Munson, I'm sorry for tripping you then!" he apologized with a frown.
"Yeah, whatever."
Eddie spoke dismissively and he brought his eyes down to the floor.
"At least believe that I didn't do this," Steve was practically pleading.
Eddie shrugged.
"Alright."
He couldn't tell if Steve was only concerned because he didn't want to get in trouble, or if he really did want to show that he didn't just hate Eddie everyday.
"Good..." Steve trailed off. "I mean, thanks."
"No problem."
Eddie felt awkward now that they had spoken, so he walked over to the guitar and picked it up. He looked back at Steve, who was rooted in place behind him.
"Um, I'm just going to take this to the band room, so I'll see you around."
He waited for an answer, but it didn't seem like Harrington wanted to talk. Eddie wasn't even sure if he'd heard him.
"Isn't, you know, Tracy waiting for you?" he prompted, coming back over to the boy.
"Nah, she has a date tonight." Steve sounded sad when he eventually answered.
"Oh." Eddie didn't know what to say. It sounded like a pretty crappy thing that Tracy was doing, but he didn't know how everything worked with dating. He'd never been with anyone. Maybe this was normal for people his age. "Uhh... sorry, I'm going to assume that's not something good. It doesn't sound like a good thing."
"Yeah, it fucking isn't," Steve said, his cheeks a little bit pinker. "I mean, you saw the way she was kissing me three hours ago. Then she pulls this!"
Eddie thought about Tracy's sickly sweet smile and grimaced.
"She sounds pretty stupid to me. I know a lot of people would love to go out with you, Steve. And, you know, what does her date have that you don't? And why is she going around kissing fifty different people every day?" He was rambling and he didn't know why. He could just leave, he owed Steve nothing. But the look on the boy's face was making him stay. "I say, fuck you Tracy."
Steve smiled at him.
"Thanks Eddie."
"Hey, I'm just enjoying the momentary pause in warfare here," Eddie grinned. "I'm sure that by tomorrow, you'll wish you had kept me locked in that room."
Steve looked uncomfortable for a second.
"I wouldn't do that, no matter how much I don't like you."
He sounded sincere for once.
"Whatever you say, Harrington," Eddie said lightly. "If you're going to be alright now, I think I'm going to head out."
He indicated with the guitar to the hallway nearby.
"Music room's calling my name."
"Yeah, right, sorry," Steve shook his head. "Have fun."
Eddie nodded and then walked away, working not to make it look like he was trying to get away from the boy as fast as he possibly could.
He had no idea what had just happened, but he was pretty sure that being in the janitor's closet for so long had severely addled his mind.
"The fuck, Munson?" he said to himself. "What was that, laughing with the enemy?"
He slapped his forehead in self-disgust and swung open the band room doors.
This time, the place really was empty and he reached instinctively for his music, before realizing that he left it in the closet.
"Ugh, shit."
He didn't have the energy to go back there, so he sat down and tried to work out the solo from memory. He could still picture some of the notes that he'd practiced and he managed to get a weak version going, but by the time he made it all the way through, it was already quite late in the evening.
He reluctantly stood up and put the guitar back in the storage locker, which was thankfully void of any traces of Steve Harrington or Tracy.
Then he locked up the band room, and left the school in the direction of the trailer park.