I winced when I looked at the upcoming week's schedule – I was supposed to work every shift with Eddie Munson. I tapped the schedule that was pinned to the bulletin board, thinking of my next move. I turned to Alan, the shop owner, smiling weakly.
"Alan – you know how much I love and respect you, right?"
"I'm not changing the schedule, Jules."
"Oh, come on!" I whined. Alan looked up from the paperwork on his desk, smiling at me. I walked over to his desk, placing my hands on it and leaning close to Alan. "Eddie hates me."
"He does not hate you," Alan sighed, rolling his eyes before going back to his paperwork. My mouth dropped and I continued to stare at him. Alan turned back to me, shaking his head. "What, Jules?"
"You're joking, right?" I was being dramatic, really wanted to get my point across. Alan rubbed his eyes, careful not to ruin the eyeshadow he meticulously applied every morning.
"Jules – we're short staffed right now," Alan lectured. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Ever since Marcie quit—"
"Because Eddie broke her heart, and she couldn't bear to be around him!" I interrupted. Alan raised his hands, sighing deeply.
"Ever since Marcie quit – regardless of the personal reasons as to why – I can't be as flexible with the schedule, especially for perceived grudges that you seem to see everywhere," he smiled wryly. "So be upset with Marcie, not with me."
I rolled my eyes, removing my hands from the desk and leaning my hip against it. I looked at him for a bit.
"Fucking Marcie," I quipped. He laughed, nodding his head.
"Fucking Marcie," he remarked back. He nodded to his office door. "Now get back on the floor."
I groaned, making Alan laugh again, and left his office.
I re-entered the eclectic music store, glancing around at the different aisles. Alan had spent years cultivating the different artwork hanging from the walls and ceiling. His record store – simply called The Sound – was one of the more unique stores in Hawkins, Indiana, bringing in all sorts of different clientele.
Alan had hired me two years ago, right after I graduated high school. I showed up every day for a week, begging for a job, following him around the store while listing all of my positive attributes. Alan finally conceded, and we had gotten closer over the last couple of years. He often tells me that I'm one of the "best surprises" he's had in a hire. I know he really means that he used to think that I was annoying, but then I had eventually grown on him.
I loved working at The Sound. I loved all of the different people that came in, the interesting music they recommended and stories they told. Once a month, we'd have a local band come in and host a concert to get them more exposure – we'd have booze and everything, giving half of the profits to the band performing.
I got to the front of the store, placing myself behind the front counter. I started sorting through the returns in a milk crate, determining which items would need to be sorted back into the shelves today. The door opened, ringing the unique wind chime Alan had placed there. I smiled brightly before looking up.
"Welcome to The Sound! Let me know—" I glanced up, my smile faltering a bit. I tried to maintain my cheerfulness. "Oh, hi, Eddie!"
He pulled the aviators off of his face, raising an eyebrow at me. He did not smile back. He stuffed his sunglasses in his leather jacket pocket before stomping past me to punch in for his shift.
"Julia," he commented coldly. I bristled, watching him head back to the office. I shook my head, going back to the returns. I started studying a David Bowie album, fascinated by the stained-glass design on the front.
"Hardly working or hardly working, I guess, Julia," a sharp voice commented. I turned to the grouchy metalhead, flashing him a smile. He wasn't looking at me, his deep eyes studied on the receipts he had pulled out of the cash register.
Eddie was tall and lanky with wild, dark curls. He had serious, brooding eyes that always held an intense gaze. I'm pretty sure he only had one pair of ripped jeans and one pair of dark boots that he always paired with some metal band t-shirt and his signature leather jacket. When I first met him, I thought he was really handsome, and was excited at the idea of working closely with him.
He started working at The Sound about eight months ago; Alan told me Eddie was looking for a more "straight-edge" job due to "recent heat" (Alan had to explain what that all meant to me when I gave him a vacant stare). Eddie had made it abundantly clear from when I worked my first shift with him that he found me obnoxious and had no interest in a friendship beyond working in silence next to me during our shifts.
And I believe me, I had tried to bond with him – I hated the idea of someone disliking me, especially someone I had to see so often in a place that I loved. But Eddie remained cold and distant with me. And only me – he was constantly flirting with the other female clerks, the most recent being Marcie. And the clerks were always quitting after he broke their hearts, which would always happen after just two to three weeks of starting whatever he started with them. Because of this, we were always understaffed, and I would have to work even more shifts with the mean metalhead.
"It's Jules," I finally corrected. He shot his eyes to me, brows furrowing. I could tell he was confused. "You keep calling me 'Julia'. My name is Jules."
"Isn't that short for 'Julia'?" he asked. I shook my head.
"No, it's actually a funny story," I turned to him, my face lighting up. "My dad wanted to name me after the unit of energy, because my parents were so excited when I was born and they were full of energy, but he was so excited that he spelled it wrong, so he left out the 'o', and—"
"Jesus Christ, okay, got it," he interrupted rudely. He went back to looking at the receipts. "Dorky fucking story, by the way."
My smile finally dropped; my feelings hurt. I knew it was a dorky story, but I loved the meaning behind my name. I looked back at the albums.
"Even if it was short for 'Julia', it would still be rude to call me that," I muttered. He turned to me.
"What?" he asked. I turned to him, glaring.
"I said, that even if it was short for 'Julia', it would still be rude to call me that. My preferred name is Jules. I call you Eddie, even though it's probably short for 'Edmund' or 'Edgar'. But you prefer Eddie," I snapped, maintaining my angry stare. I turned back to the albums I had been sorting through, upset at his rudeness. I felt him watch me.
"You think my given name is 'Edmund' or 'Edgar'?" I turned to him and noticed that he was smirking. This was the first time he offered any kind of kindness to me. My eyes widened, and my face flushed.
"Those were the first names that came to my head," I answered. His smirk broke into a full grin, and I felt my face flush deeper – he was even more handsome when he actually smiled.
"But not 'Edward'?" he teased. My smile slowly creeped back to my face, and I shrugged.
"I guess not," I replied, turning back to my task. Eddie laughed and I tried not to look at him.
"You're an odd duck, Jules."
"I know," I replied. I quickly picked up the albums and started towards the shelves to re-shelf the different returns. I tried not to look at Eddie as I felt him watch me. He finally turned his attention from me when a customer walked in, greeting them coolly.
---
We were wrapping up our shift – the air was not filled with our normal tension, which was somewhat a relief to me. We still worked in silence, but I didn't feel that Eddie hated my guts. He was organizing the additional returns that had come through, and I was counting the till.
The door chimed and I looked up, a smile automatically plastered to my face in greeting.
"Welcome to The Sound!" I was cheerful, as always. I felt Eddie's withering stare but didn't look at him.
"Holy shit, Jules! I didn't know you worked here!" I grinned wider at my baby cousin, Dustin Henderson.
"I can't believe you're old enough to curse now," I laughed, walking around the counter to give him a big hug.
Dustin was my only cousin – he was related to me on my father's side, his mom and my dad being twins. We were as close as you would expect cousins who were seven years apart could be, but he was a darling kid – precocious and practically a genius. He and my father shared a love of science that was the main topic of any holiday meal we all had together.
"I'm old enough for a lot of things, Jules," he joked, waggling his eyebrows. I laughed and ruffled his hair. I smiled at the handsome man who had followed my cousin in.
"Hi, I'm Jules Mullin," I offered my hand in greeting. The man brushed his thick hair out of his face, smiling widely.
"Hi, I'm Steve Harrington," he took my hand, warmly returning my welcome. I grinned.
"Oh, I've heard about you – Dustin's told me stories at our holiday dinners."
"And how do you know Dustin?" This question came from behind me. It was sharp and demanding. I turned to Eddie, surprised at his interest. I patted Dustin on the shoulder.
"He's my cousin!" I answered. Dustin grinned wildly at the two of us.
"Eddie, I can't believe you work with my cousin!" Dustin started off in the store, touching practically every record and cassette he passed. "Isn't she the coolest?"
"Not so sure about that," Eddie was curt, answering Dustin's question. I winced, saddened that we had gone back to our earlier dynamic. I tried to smile again, looking between the two men in front of me.
"How do you guys know Dustin?" I crossed back to the cash register, not wanting to watch Eddie ignore me.
"Hellfire Club," Eddie answered sharply, focused on the albums in front of him. My brows furrowed, and I looked towards Steve, hoping he would tell me what that was. Steve stepped forward, leaning his forearms against the counter and craning his head over it.
"It's some Dungeons and Dragons club Eddie started at school – Dustin joined earlier this year," Steve replied, smiling kindly. I nodded, finally understanding. I looked to Steve, waiting for his answer of how he knew Dustin. He smiled wider, glancing to my cousin. "I'm not totally sure how he and I became friends, but I've almost become the kid's babysitter in the last couple of years."
"I'm too old to need a babysitter, Steve!" Dustin admonished from across the store. I giggled at my cousin, closing the cash register. Dustin bounded from the middle of the store, a cassette in hand.
"How much for this?" He placed a Weird Al Yankovic tape on the counter. I grinned at him.
"It's on me, Dusty," I answered, making him smile wider. Before I could reach for my purse behind the counter, Eddie interrupted us.
"You still need to pay for that – your employee discount doesn't mean 'free'," he snapped. I knitted my brows together as I placed my bag on the counter, pulling my wallet out.
"I know, Eddie; I would never steal," I answered, placing a twenty-dollar bill in the till.
"Jesus, Eddie, you're in a shitty mood tonight," Steve observed. I rolled my eyes as I placed my change back in my wallet.
"Tonight?" I was snarky – I was disappointed that the glimpse of friendly Eddie I had seen was just that: a glimpse. Steve snorted at my comment, and we locked eyes, grinning at each other. His amber stare crinkled at my smile, and I felt a flush. He started to lean closer to me, about to ask a question.
"Okay, I'm going to punch out so we can get the hell out of here," Eddie announced abruptly. He turned to me. "Let's go, Jules."
I looked at Eddie, perplexed by his behavior. He never, ever wanted to complete any task with me. He often went out of his way to avoid doing anything with me. He gestured his arm out, as if ordering me to walk in front of him. I remained confused as I started back towards Alan's office.
We walked into Alan's office silently. Alan looked up, confused by our presence together.
"Everything alright, you guys?" Alan asked. Eddie quickly marked his timecard and handed me mine.
"Just punching out."
I took my card from Eddie, following suit. I placed it back where we stored the timecards and shrugged at Alan, who looked just as befuddled as me. The three of us sat for a beat, uncomfortable.
"Well, don't forget – we've got the concert tomorrow night. You both need to stay late to clean up afterwards since we lost Marcie."
"Fucking Marcie," I remarked before I could stop myself. Alan grinned.
"Fucking Marcie – so I'll see you guys tomorrow."
I turned on my heel and tried to race out of the office. I could feel Eddie close behind me and nearly jumped out of my skin when he placed a hand on the small of my back.
"Sorry about Marcie – I know that's on me," he apologized. I stopped, looking up at him. His face was so close that I could see a scar he had across his cheek and smell the cloves he smoked in his hair. I was even more confused, and his touch made me flush.
"It is what it is – maybe you hold off on flirting with the next one? For at least a month," I was trying to joke. He smiled tightly, removing his hand from me before stepping in front of me. I followed him to the front where Steve and Dustin were waiting for him.
After I gave Dustin a quick hug, I went behind the counter, collecting my bag and jacket. Eddie opened the front door.
"Henderson, Harrington – let's go," he ordered, wanting to leave as soon as possible. I was still rummaging through my bag when Steve leaned over the counter, close to my face.
"It was really nice to meet you, Jules," he said lowly. I looked up at his smiling face and blushed a deep red before smiling back. "Hope I get to see you soon."
"Sure – it was really nice to meet you, too," I stammered, nodding my head. His grin grew and he patted the counter.
"Harrington, quit it – let's fucking go," Eddie snapped, angry again. Steve rolled his eyes, making me laugh. I waved goodbye at the three boys, two of them returning my wave. I'll let you guess who didn't.
I pulled my bag over my shoulder, shaking my head, still confused. Alan was walking from his office, also carrying his things. We walked to the front door together, Alan holding it open for me as I exited. I stood outside, waiting for Alan to finish locking the door.
"So, I guess you and Eddie are becoming friends?" He looked to me, raising an eyebrow. I shrugged, still befuddled. "I told you he didn't hate you."
"I'm not so sure about that," I remarked, still puzzled by my coworker's behavior.