Chapter Text
“Gareth?”
Eddie pushed the locker room’s door open, peering inside. It wasn’t like the kid to be late to Hellfire. They usually played on Wednesdays, but the drama club had superseded them and reserved the room for the next day. So, it was possible Gareth had just forgotten… But highly unlikely. You didn’t just forget D&D.
Eddie’d already checked the bleachers, the parking lot, and the cafeteria, and he might have given up, but… Gareth had gym last period on Tuesdays.
“You in there, man?” He called out again.
The room was empty, but a shower was still running. God, Eddie hoped he wasn’t about to walk in on a jock jerking off. He didn’t need that kind of fuss this week.
“Gareth?” He carefully poke his head around the wall.
“Eddie?”
The figure curled up against the wall lifted its head, and Eddie almost tripped over his own feet. He barely took the time to turn off the shower before he fell to his knees.
Gareth was fully dressed, soaked to the bone, his clothes sticking to his skin. He was shaking hard enough for his teeth to chatter despite the steam filling the shower room.
“Gareth, what the fuck?”
He tried to grab his shoulders, but the kid flinched away. Eddie rolled back to sit on his heels, trying not to grimace as the water sloshed around his legs and into his jeans.
“I-” Gareth swallowed, hiding behind his knees. “Hagan, he-”
“Hagan? Tommy Hagan?” Eddie frowned. Hagan was a weaselly little junior, who should have been unremarkable but for the company he kept and his impressive taste for hurting people. If Hagan had gone for Gareth…
“Come on man, look at me, come on.”
Gareth’s shoulders hunched up to his ears, but he finally lifted his head. Eddie hissed between his teeth, and grabbed Gareth’s face, ignoring his noise of startled protest.
The kid was a mess. His right eye was swollen shut. Both his lips were split and bleeding sluggishly. Eddie would be surprised if his nose wasn’t broken. He could only hope it was still in line under the dark bruises.
“Jesus fucking Christ!” Eddie kept his touch gentle but firm as he coaxed Gareth into unfolding. There was blood on his collar, but it was diluted and pink. Probably from his face and not from a body wound. Hagan was a sadist -and not the fun kind- but he wasn’t quite stupid enough to bring a knife to school.
“I- Eddie, I-” Gareth stuttered, and Eddie’s heart broke a little, just for a second before indignant anger rose to slam against the back of his teeth. He’d just managed to get Gareth to come out of his shell!
“Gareth, what happened?” Eddie asked.
“I don’t wanna talk about it…” Gareth shook his head, trying to hide from Eddie again.
“Hey, I can’t help shit if I don’t know what happened, man.” Eddie felt bad from insisting when the kid was so clearly shaken, but he still ducked his head to catch Gareth’s eyes.
Fuck, he didn’t want to fuck with Hagan, but… Gareth was one of his little lost lambs, and fuck that fuckface.
“Hagan, he- he said- he thought- he thought I was looking at Harrington.”
“What, are we peasants forbidden from beholding His Majesty now?” Eddie joked with a weak smile, exhausted dread rising in his belly.
“No, he thought- He thought I was checking him out. ” Gareth hissed. “He said- he called me- he- he waited until everyone was gone and he punched me-”
“Shit, fuck, shitty fuckity fuck.” Eddie reeled back, pushing his palms into his eye sockets. Gareth watched him go, tense and terrified.
Eddie knew what Gareth was waiting for. The terrible moment when Eddie’d ask if it was true. If he had been checking Steve Harrington out. The terrible moment when Eddie would leave him high and very wet if Gareth admitted that he had been.
But really, Eddie couldn’t fault him if he had. The swim team had done Harrington many worlds of good. Three years into highschool, he’d finally grown into his hair and his attitude. Not to mention his detached, blase way of strutting around the school, or his tight shirts, or those short shorts he wore in gym class... Yeah. Harrington had it going on, and everyone one, from the lowliest of peasants to the knights of his round table were very aware of it. He was basically baby queer catnip.
If only he wasn’t such a raging asshole.
“Does Harrington know?” Eddie asked. Hagan was a problem on his own, but he was only so dangerous without Harrington’s blessing. If His Majesty condescended to throw his ire Gareth’s way however…
“He didn’t. He left before.” Gareth blinked, staring at Eddie like he still expected to be slapped across the face. “But Hagan will tell-”
“I’ll take care of it.” Eddie interrupted, climbing to his feet.
So Harrington hadn’t noticed whatever it was that Hagan had seen. Okay, Eddie could work with that. Harrington would only be so upset by a second-hand account, even from his favorite lackey.
“Eddie, what, no!” Gareth tried to protest. Eddie slashed his hands to shut him up.
“Let’s get you home, dude.” Eddie sighed, grabbing Gareth’s wet shirt and pulling him to his feet with a grunt.
Eddie sent Gareth to wait by his van while he ducked back by Hellfire to cancel the session. Will, the other senior, tried to protest, but only until he noticed Eddie’s wet jeans.
Gareth was quiet all the way to his house, not even nodding along to Eddie’s Dio tape. By the time Eddie watched him slip through his front door, he had a plan. Or at least, the scaffolding of one.
The thing was, these popular types, the Royalty of High School Society? They just wanted to be entertained. They wanted something to break though the dull monotony of life at the top of the food chain, and if nothing happened to catch their interest, they made their own fun.
Good thing Eddie was unparalleled at keeping little sheeps entertained. Maybe not the likes of Tommy Hagan, little wanna-be psychopaths who actually enjoyed making kids cry and cower. But pretty, dull, bored things like Steve Harrington?
Oh yeah, Eddie could keep the King entertained for a little while. He could put on his little jester hat, make his bells jingles, somersault and fart for His Majesty’s pleasure. At least long enough for the Court to forget about Gareth, and his perceived sins.
Eddie’s grand plan started the very next day, before Hagan had the chance to get too into Harrington’s pretty head. And before Eddie panicked himself into an early grave.
He showed up to the cafeteria late, ten past noon because Mrs Click kept him after class, as if Eddie had nothing else to do, swinging his lunchbox around, the very picture of ease. Definitely not like he was about to puke his guts out.
One quick look at the Hellfire table -Gareth was pale and drawn under his bruises, staring at Eddie- and he sauntered over to the table that had been claimed by the Court in times immemorial.
The Court was mainly composed of members of the various sports teams that infected Hawkins High, with a smattering of other assorted pretty people. Harrington, as was his due, was lounging at the center, commanding even the attention of the seniors. Sometimes, he wondered if it was the money, the sharp jaw, or the brain-dead charisma that had everyone panting after Harrington.
None of them took notice of Eddie as he approached, even though he supplied most of them at least once in a while in various party favors. Fucking hell, it took everything for Eddie not to turn tail and run. Standing on tables or disrupting a basketball game by running Alice Cooper through the sound system, that was all well and good. There was a distance there. A possibility of escape if things went wrong. But willingly throwing himself into the wolves’ gaping maws? Eddie would readily admit to not being the sharpest crayon in the box, but he wasn’t usually quite that stupid.
Before he could talk himself out of the whole thing, Rick Gallagher, the meathead sitting across from Harrington, got up. Probably only to go take a leak, but an opening was an opening.
“Ladies and gentlejocks, I bid you good day!” Eddie announced, plopping himself down on the bench.
Stunned silence fell over the Court, each and everyone of them turning to blink at his audacity. Harrington most of all, stared down his nose at Eddie like he could barely remember who he was. Even though he’d definitely smoked some of Eddie’s stash.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Harrington asked, too dumbfounded to be sharp.
“Figured I’d enjoy your delightful company for this meal.” Eddie answered with his best grin, the one that was just a bit too wide and put people on edge. Harrington blinked again, and wow, there was really not much going on behind those pretty eyes, was there?
“Fuck off, Munson!” Hagan snapped in his stead. He was eyeing Eddie’s lunchbox with beady, greedy little eyes. If Eddie wasn’t on a charm offensive, he’d have scoffed. As if he’d have slathered himself with peanut butter before throwing himself at rabid dogs. His merchandise was safe and sound, back at the trailer.
“Don’t mind me, your Highness.” Eddie winked at Harrington, flipping his lunchbox open and grabbing his sandwich. “Just wanted to see if the air was cleaner at the top.”
“Smells like cream corn, like everywhere else.” Harrington drawled, watching Eddie take a comically large bite.
“Cream corn and aristocracy!” Eddie gestured at the assorted sheep. Without Harrington’s express permission to chase him away, they’d mostly gone back to their own lunches, but he could still feel them watching him from the corner of their eyes.
“Okay Freak, what the fuck do you want?” Carol Perkins, Hagan’s mediocre half, asked, snatching the bruised apple from his box. She sneered, looking from it to him, as if unsure which would taste worst.
“Nothing but to break bread with the best Hawkins High has to offer.” Eddie dared to turn away from her, despite how close she seemed to throwing the apple at his head. “But perhaps I would have better luck with the lunchlady.”
Harrington looked between Carol and Eddie. He seemed… compelled, if still a bit befuddled.
“Don’t you have better things to do? Like washing your hair?” Carol asked.
“Ah, my fair lady, I apologize for the confusion. This is what hair should look like. Whomever supplied you your wig, perhaps you should request a refund.”
“Watch your goddamn mouth!” Hagan growled, lunging forward as if to grab for him, but the table was wide enough that all Eddie had to do was lean away. Carol was glaring daggers at him, her fingers squeezing the apple tight enough that some juice was dribbling down her wrist and onto her salad. But Harrington? Eddie could have sworn he had almost laughed.
So his Majesty had some taste after all? Better and better.
“I would, Hagan, truly, but I only have so much time to spend looking at myself in the mirror.”
Eddie flinched instinctively before he even finished his sentence, but probably managed to cover it up with a dumb little wiggle when Hagan failed to swing at him.
“Hey, who the fuck are you?” Gallagher had apparently returned from his trip to the bathroom. Who took this long to piss? He really should get that checked.
Still, Eddie, despite popular opinion, could sometimes read the room, and he was definitely pushing his luck into dangerous territories now.
“Speaking of!” He announced, stuffing the last bit of his sandwich into his mouth. “Not that this isn’t an absolute pleasure, but you know how it is. Places to do, things to be!”
“You should try not to be a fucking weirdo.” Harrington watched Eddie get to his feet with a faint frown.
“That sounds like an astounding idea, your Highness, but then I’d die of boredom.”
Harrington’s frown deepened, as if he’d never noticed how truly dull his life was. Oh, to be so pretty.
One last wink, because Harrington was a sight to behold when he was bewildered and slightly flustered, and Eddie jumped from the bench to the table, narrowly avoiding the meathead trying to grab at his vest. Ignoring the shouts of protest, he sauntered from table to table, careful not to step into any delicate substance.
“What the fuck was that?” Harrington asked behind his back, not bothering to lower his voice.
“He’s a freak, dude. Who the fuck knows what goes on inside his fucked up brain.” Hagan drawled.
“Maybe he’s trying to get into the cheer squad.” Carol joked and threw the apple at Eddie’s head, missing by a mile
The table erupted into asinine laughter, and Eddie allowed himself a victorious smile as he slipped through the cafeteria doors.
Score one for Munson.
“Your Highness!” Eddie called across the cafeteria the very next day. He’d skipped Gym class to make sure he’d be able to catch the Court before they took their places and walled him off. Because he was a genius, Harrington was still in line to grab his food. It took him a long second to respond, probably already forgetting what Eddie had called him the day before, but he did turn. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“This is still the cafeteria, Munson.” Harrington sighed. He sounded annoyed, but not the kind of annoyed that would earn Eddie a punch in the mouth. Not yet. This was the annoyance of someone who couldn’t understand why Eddie was so Eddie. He was used to it. Better than him being annoyed at Eddie crowding into his space again.
Because Eddie was very much elbowing his way in between one of the Courtesans and Harrington, nevermind that Wayne and he very much did not have the budget for Eddie to lunch on school food. He had his trusty cheap PB&J all packed and ready to go. No apple this time. No reason to give Carol any more ammunition. Her aim might improve.
“So it is. A true tragedy that you and your faithful followers have not yet been given a private dining room, my lord. You should inquire into that.”
“Dude, what the fuck are you on about?” Harrington blinked at him. Should Eddie use smaller words?
“It means you having a room to eat with all the pretty pe-”
“I know what it means, I’m not a complete idiot.” Harrington snapped, eyes tightening, and oops, Eddie was definitely dipping into punching territory. “But why the fuck would I eat in another room? This isn’t the fucking country club.”
Harrington grabbed a juice box and dropped it into his tray, then a chocolate chip cookie that looked soft and sweet enough to make Eddie a little green with envy. Harrington could keep his groupies, but Eddie would kill for a Cafeteria Cookie Budget.
“I simply meant you could avoid rubbing elbows with the riffraff that way.” Eddie shrugged, forcing himself to look away from the cookie back to Harrington.
“Fuck off, Munson. If having to eat in the same room as me bothers you so fucking much, you can go eat in the bathroom or whatever.” Harrington pushed into Eddie’s space, something that wanted to be anger in his eyes.
Harrington used to be shorter than Eddie, he was pretty sure. The benefits of being a year older and all. But it seemed that The King had hit some kind of growth spurt during the summer, because he was looking directly into Eddie’s eyes.
“Going to banish me from the kingdom, your Highness?” Eddie teased, forcing himself not to look at Harrington’s lips. He might be a raging asshole with terrible taste in friends, but he was very pretty and very close, and Eddie was only 17.
Harrington sneered for a quick second because he shook himself, grabbing his tray off the counter.
“Do whatever you want, freak.”
“Don’t mind if I do, my lord.” Eddie made himself shrug off the nickname. “Though I do prefer Jester. If we must put a label on it.”
“What?” Harrington asked, apparently not quite noticing Eddie following him back to the table.
“Being the Court ‘Freak’ has some pejorative connotations, you know? Like a dancing bear or some shit.”
“You’re the Freak.” Harrington said, like that was the obvious thing. Like Eddie being the Freak was a thing set in stone. A universal constant. Oh, to live in his Castle in the Sky, where people were, and had always been, and would always be the worst things people said about them. Fucking Harrington.
“Yeah.” Eddie shrugged, with the ease of someone who had learned to wear the insults like armor years before he had crashed himself into Steve Harrington. “But I’m not your Freak.”
“And you are my j-”
“What the fuck is Munson doing here again?” Hagan shouted when he noticed Eddie had followed Harrington all the way back to their table, interrupting whatever the King had been about to ask.
Harrington, the very pretty thing that he was, looked from the tray he had just put down to Eddie, who had dropped himself on the bench next to him. Eddie kept his back to the table, draping himself over it instead of slipping his legs under. The true picture of relaxation and nonchalance, and not like he had chosen the position because it allowed for a quicker escape if things turned south.
“He’s being fucking weird.” Harrington sighed, like there wasn’t anything to be done about Eddie deciding to be a bothersome little pest.
Hagan, his finger twitching worryingly towards his fork, seemed to disagree.
“What the fuck is your play, freak?” Hagan hissed.
“Why must there be a play, sire?” Eddie asked, fishing his sandwich from his lunchbox, still very much empty of valuables. “Perhaps I simply longed for your enlightened conversation.”
“Is this a drug thing?” Hagan asked, loudly, in the middle of a packed cafeteria. Because he was a true imbecile. Was that why Harrington kept him around? Because he made Harrington seem smart in comparison? “You trying to expand your market or some shit?”
“Not at lunch!” Harrington snapped, looking between the two of them like they were misbehaving children. Hypocrite. Like he was above getting himself fucked up on Eddie’s good stuff. As long as someone else was doing the buying, of course.
“You impugn my honor!” Eddie gasped, making a whole show of waving his empty lunchbox in Hagan’s face. “Why do you ask, anyway? You want to buy some sport juice too, Hagan? Is it some kind of basketball team bonding thing?”
“Sport juice?” Steve frowned, now staring intently at Eddie.
“What?” Hagan gaped.
“You know, steroids? I don’t blame you, after your performance last year.” Eddie fished for his friendliest, fakest smile.
“My-” Hagan finally seemed to catch Eddie’s drift, and he all but launched himself at him across the table.
Or he would have, if his legs hadn’t gotten caught. As it were, his face almost smashed into the plywood top. Still, Eddie took it as his cue, jumping away with a wide twirl of his arms.
“You know what, Hagan? Just for you, I’ll see what I can do.” Eddie turned back to Steve, who was still frowning hard enough to crease his forehead. “By your leave, your Majesty.”
He bowed as low as he dared, before Hagan had the time to recover.
“Munson, I’ll fucking kill you!”
Eddie made sure to cackled loud enough for all to hear as he ran away with enough of a headstart that even Hagan’s jock speed couldn’t make up for it.
Third day and counting. Eddie wasn’t sure exactly how long he was going to have to keep up the act, how long it’d take for Hagan’s little goldfish brain to forget Gareth’s locker room indiscretion. Another week? More?
His English classroom was at the other end of the school. By the time he burst into the cafeteria, Eddie barely had time to spare the Hellfire Table a glance. Gareth’s face was turning a charming shade of yellow, his eyes just a little dull as he followed Eddie. The rest of the club was also staring, confused and guarded as he skipped past them. Like they expected him to turn coat at any moment. Shit. He’d probably have some explaining to do at that night’s session. Reassure them he wasn’t abandoning them for -gag- jocks.
Not right now, though. The Court was rapidly closing rank, and Eddie needed to haul ass, lest he be walled-off.
“No. Fuck no, Munson, fuck-off!” Hagan snapped as soon as he was within earshot. Carol sidled up to him like the world’s most permed bouncer. She did an impressive job of looking down her nose at him, considering he had a solid half-foot on her.
“Don’t you have some dumpsters to dive?” She sneered.
“Don’t you have baby angels to pluck?” Eddie answered.
He would shove his way through them if he had to. It might be the step too far, and get him his ass handed back to him in pieces… But then again, they definitely wouldn’t have the brain space to give a shit about Gareth anymore.
“Just leave it.” Harrington sighed, surprising the three of them. Hagan and Carol turned to stare at him, and Eddie took the golden opportunity to slip past them, plopping next to Harrington on the bench.
“The fuck, man?” Hagan screeched. Truly, what a graceful creature he was.
“He’s just going to keep showing up.” Harrington sighed with a resigned shrug. Like Eddie was an inevitability. A bug just barely not annoying enough. “He’s not worth the detention.”
It was hardly a ringing endorsement, but Eddie had heard much worse. It also meant he had the King’s blessing to have more-or-less unfeathered access to the Court. At least for now. He’d take it.
He felt the weight of Harrington’s eyes on him as he rolled his head to smirk at Hagan from his newly christened position at the King’s right. Only when he was sure Hagan wasn’t going to assert his independence for the first time in his life and lunge for Eddie anyway, did he turn back to Harrington.
Harrington was looking back at him, chewing on a potato. Around them, the rest of the Court joked and laughed and shouted, but instead of getting dragged into other conversations like he usually was, Harrington seemed content to stare at Eddie. For the first time that Eddie could remember, his eyes were focused. They were almost… sharp?
“Not eating?” Harrington asked when he finally swallowed his mouthful, like pinning Eddie down with his gaze was a normal, everyday thing he did. Like he wasn’t usually so bored his eyes were perpetually dull and glazed over.
“A million thanks for your blessing, your Majesty.” In moments of crisis, be dramatic and slightly ridiculous. He was the Jester, after all. He flipped his box open with a wide arc of his arm. PB&J again, but with strawberry jam this time because Wayne had felt daring.
Harrington’s eyes flitted down for a second, taking in the nearly empty box, and back up to Eddie. For a single, insane second, Eddie almost expected Harrington to offer him part of his own warm, school-bought lunch, but Harrington just took another bite, his lips pursing a little.
Not the country club. Right. Up until the peasants actually within eyesight.
“How big of a donation do you think it’d take for Higgins to say yes to an actual tiger as a mascot for the school?” Eddie mused, taking a comically big bite of his sandwich. By this point, even Hagan had gotten engrossed with some other inane conversation. No one was paying attention to Eddie except Harrington, who kept staring.
Eddie felt seen somehow, and he hated it.
“What?” Harrington paused, fork halfway up to his mouth.
“No, think about it. Watching football is mind-numbingly boring, but if there was a tiger hanging around, sitting on the bleachers or something? That’s entertainment, baby.”
“That would be stupidly dangerous. ” Harrington said, because he was the most boring of squares.
“Yeah? That’s the fucking point? What’s the danger in normal football?”
“Concussions?”
“ Boring. Now, if the loosing team gets fed to a fucking tiger? Those are stakes, your Highness.” Eddie grinned, lounging back on the table and waving his sandwich around.
Harrington didn’t even flinch when a dollop of peanut butter splatted down on his tray.
“I don’t think a tiger can eat an entire team in one sitting.” He muttered, squinting. His eyes were still focused, but his poor brain was too busy trying to make sense of the hypothetical scenario to keep puzzling over Eddie’s general existence.
“Even better! The losing team can vote on who to sacrifice. It’d be a bloodbath! My lord, you’re a genius!”
“I didn’t-” Harrington was fully frowning now, his lower lip hanging open ever so slightly in confusion. It was, quite frankly, a delightful expression. “Where would you even get a tiger?”
“I don’t know. Your daddy’s got the big bucks, I’m sure he can make something happen.”
Harrington’s eyes dropped at that, his jaw clenching.
“Think about it this way.” Eddie added, absolutely not mourning the departure of Harrington’s dumbstruck bewilderment. “If Harrington Senior acquires the tiger, you can probably negotiate yourself a life-time exemption from the ritual sacrifice.”
“They wouldn’t vote for me.”
Harrington looked almost insulted at the notion that he might be chosen to be tiger fodder, the absolute arrogant asshole.
“Of course not, your Majesty.” Eddie rolled his eyes, finishing his sandwich with a flourish. “Then what do you have to fear?”
“Fine, Munson. I’ll get the school a fucking tiger, and then you’ll be the first one to be eaten.”
“Ha! As if I’d be caught dead at a fucking sport game.”
Harrington cocked his head. “Of course your tiger would only eat people who play sports.”
“I’m not an idiot. I make sure the bloodthirsty predators stay away from this handsome face.” Eddie smiled, wide and bright. As if he hadn’t been throwing himself a fucking lions for the past three lunchtimes.
Harrington rolled his eyes, and bit into his cookie like a fucking savage. Half of it was gone in one bite, a chocolate chip smudging into his cheek. To have cafeteria cookies everyday and not savor them. A true crime.
“You’re fucking weird, Munson.”
“Weird? Me? Oh, your Majesty, how your words hurt! Here I was, sharing my genius and revolutionary ideas! Oh, but I must be off, lest you break what’s left of my heart!” Eddie spun to his feet, clutching at his heart.
Harrington laughed. And Eddie suddenly kind of got why the whole school was stupid for this dumb jock. Because sure, Harrington was somewhat tall, and definitely handsome, but his laugh, when he laughed with you, not at you?
Fucking mesmerizing.
No one was asking for him to leave, not with Harrington’s half-hearted permission, but Eddie did have other things to do with his limited free time, and a face to save before it showed anything incriminating. Anyway, it was always better to leave people wanting more, and he wasn’t sure the tiger bit had much more legs in it.
One flourished bow later, and Eddie made his exit.
“Munson, wait.”
Trust Harrington to ruin an exemplary exit. For once in his life, Eddie had made a good, self-preserving decision and the King trampled all over it.
Eddie waited until the cafeteria door clicked close behind Harrington before he turned back to him, eyebrows arched.
“Yes, your Highness? Missed me already?”
“Yesterday, when you asked if Tommy wanted- you know.” He stuttered, looking around like he was expecting the cops to jump out from behind a row of lockers. “The juice. ”
He stopped there, fist clenching and unclenching, looking supremely awkward. Holy shit, was Harrington about to ask for steroids?
“Yeah, what about it?” Eddie decided to lead by example and be magnanimous for once. Definitely not because he didn’t want to stretch this conversation they were having in a completely silent hallway when anyone could hear them.
“You asked if he wanted it too. Said something about the basketball team?” Harrington whispered, leaning a little closer to Eddie. If Eddie had thought his eyes were sharp before, they were burning now.
“Still with you.” Eddie’s left eyebrow crept up even higher.
“Who else is asking for it ? Is someone on the team taking that kind of shit?” Harrington hissed, and oh. Oh. He was worried. Uh.
“Calm your tits, Harrington. People asked, but I don’t carry that kind of shit. If they’re shooting up steroids, they ain’t getting it from me.”
“What else though? You carry all kinds of stuff, right?” Harrington seemed a little relieved, but far from fully settled.
“I don’t sell and tell, Your Highness.”
“I don’t care about pot, Munson. I mean dangerous stuff.”
“Worried your Court is keeping secrets from you, my Liege? Worried they’re having their wild parties behind your back?”
“Forget it.” Harrington sneered, and stalked away. Away from Eddie, and away from the cafeteria.
“Hey man, still coming to D&D tonight?” Will asked, leaning awkwardly next to Eddie’s locker.
Will was the only other senior in Hellfire. He was a brilliant nerd, but he was the least casual person Eddie had ever met, and his jittery attempt at a cool slump looked like a seizure.
“Of course. Someone needs to kick your asses.” Eddie grinned, jamming his chemistry textbook into the overstuffed locker.
“Okay.” Will grinned, so relieved his casual lean became actually somewhat believable. “It’s just-”
“What?” Eddie asked, picking up his Hellfire notebook while a defensive pit grew in his stomach.
“It’s just that you canceled on Tuesday-” Will rambled, fidgeting with his backpack strap.
“Gareth got into some trouble.” Eddie tried to argue.
“-and then you got all chummy-chummy with the popular crowd all week, and we weren’t sure if-”
“Okay, okay! Dude, listen to me.” Eddie leaned forward to poke Will on the forehead. The two of them weren’t exactly close friends -Will’s parents wouldn’t allow it- but they’d known each other since Eddie had moved to Hawkins Fucking Indiana. “I’m not abandoning Hellfire. Ever. At least not until I graduate. And certainly not for Harrington and his cronies.”
“But-”
“I promise I’ll explain at Hellfire, okay?” Eddie’d find something that didn’t implicate Gareth. Maybe turn it into a deep-cover situation? Infiltrating the Court to destroy them from the inside? Eddie seducing Steve Harrington to the dark side of nerdery?
“Okay.” Will jerked an almost convincing nod. “See you then?”
“I’ll be right there.”
Will rushed off towards the Drama room. Around the corner, waiting for him, Eddie caught sight of Jeff, Paul and Sam. Jesus, had they chosen Will as some kind of emissary? Terrible choice. Jeff could actually handle some measure of confrontation.
Not that Eddie was going to confront them, but still. If they were preparing for war, Jeff all the way. Will’d pass out at the first sight of blood.
“Hey, fucking creep, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Eddie instinctually dropped into a fighting stance, his notebook held in front of him like a makeshift shield. But Rick Gallagher had already picked up his target off the ground, slamming the poor guy into the wall above the water fountain. Eddie winced in sympathy for his back. It was that mousy sophomore, the Byers son.
“You spying on me?” Gallagher screamed in his face, trying to grab at the camera Byers was holding without letting go of his collar. Gallagher was a member of the swim team, and apparently it was doing wonders for his upper body strength.
For his part, Byers seemed a lot more concerned in protecting the camera than his face. “No no, I was just taking a photo-”
Eddie clutched at his pencil case, biting his lower lip hard enough to taste copper. He might have Harrington’s tentative blessing, but it was not nearly enough protection to get between a Nazgul and his prey. Byers wasn’t even one of his kids anyway. He’d offered, the year before, but Byers was a resolute loner. What was Eddie supposed to do, put his hide on the line for a guy who didn’t want friends? Byers wouldn’t return the favor.
There wasn’t anything Eddie could do.
There wasn’t anything Eddie could do!
He turned on his heels, taking off running in the opposite direction. Or at least as fast as he could, considering the crowd that had gathered to watch the spectacle.
What a bunch of small-minded cruel sheeps.
Eddie only had a vague idea of where he was going, and could only hope he wasn’t too late…
Harrington was still at his own locker when Eddie turned the corner, apparently carefully considering which books to bring home. For once in his lofty existence, he was alone, thank Christ. Eddie stumbled back down to a casual walk, like he just happened to be walking this way and stumbled into the King.
Not bothering to announce his presence, Eddie draped himself on the wall right by Harrington. He turned at once to glare down at Eddie, clearly still on edge after the way he’d been brushed off at lunch. His Majesty didn’t appreciate being denied, it seemed. Probably a good thing Eddie had come bearing offerings to smooth things over. Wouldn’t want Harrington to get too into his little head over the weekend and rescind his blessing.
“Munson, what do you-”
He leaned closer, far into Harrington’s space so he could keep his whispers for the King’s ear only. So he could make Harrington just a little uncomfortable too. He smelled like laundry detergent and lilac, of all the goddamn things.
“Liam Thompson is spending all his allowance on coke.” Eddie interrupted, feeling a little guilty to be throwing another of the swim team’s members under the bus for the sake of his crusade, but needs must. “And Rick Gallagher was the one to send Stacy Moore to the ER with a concussion because she wouldn’t suck his dick.”
No one payed attention to you when you’re a nerd, even when you’re The Freak. The losers, creeps and other assorted wallflowers might not have the social capital or the guts to act on the knowledge they accumulated, but they heard and saw a lot. That went double when you were the designated purveyor of party favors for all the Society events. The Hawkins Nobility would be horrified to learn the secrets Eddie held, and even more to learn of those they had been too high or drunk to remember.
“Munson, what the fuck!?” Harrington reeled back, actually scandalized. Good, if he hadn’t known, then he might actually do something about it now. Stacy was friends with Carol after all.
“You want to know the dirty little secrets of the Hawkins Elite, your Majesty?” Eddie murmured, smiling unkindly. “Then you’re getting all of them.”
Not giving Harrington the time to react, because he was almost late for Hellfire and because the Gallagher debacle was now officially not his problem anymore, Eddie scampered down the hallway.
“Munson, wait! ”
He did not.