Thirty minutes.

They've been sitting in Eddie's van, in complete silence, for thirty minutes.

At first, Willow had been thankful, coming down from her embarrassing panic attack. But around ten minutes ago, she had realized her heart rate had come back down, her breaths finally coming and going with ease once more. Now, she was just basking in how comfortable it was to sit and do nothing with Eddie. She's only experienced the phenomenon three times in her life; the first night her mother and her spent in Hawkins as they ate take out in the middle of their empty living room, the first sleepover she ever had with Robin, and the afternoon she realized her crush had evolved into love for Steve as she sat with him at Scoops in complete silence.

Eddie moves suddenly as Willow reminisces, causing her to look at his figure. He's leaning over her lap without a word, suddenly digging in his glove box as his tongue peaks out from between his lips in severe focus.

"Whatcha doin' there, Eds?" Willow doesn't need to whisper considering it's just them, but she does anyway. The moment feels fragile.

He doesn't respond.

Instead, he smiles once he has his fist around whatever cassette tape he had been searching for, his hand obscuring Willow from seeing what tape it was.

Of course, he's putting on music.

He fumbles with the tape for a second before he finally manages to press it into his radio, and the speakers pour out a familiar tune to Willow that breaks their silence.

She can't stop her laugh, bringing a hand up over her mouth.

"Don't you dare laugh, Red," he warns, holding up a threatening finger.

"I know there's nothin' to say, someone has taken my place. When times go bad, when times go rough, won't you lay me down in tall grass and let me do my stuff?"

Lindsey Buckingham's voice fills the van and leaves Willow in absolute awe.

"I thought you didn't like Fleetwood Mac?" she finally questions slowly, hand lowering from her mouth as her brain spins.

"I don't! I mean, this tape was just- it's just a friend's! They left it in my van," Eddie explains, lying so terribly Willow snorts.

"Which friend?"

"Huh?"

"Which one of your friends listens to Fleetwood Mac? Was it Gareth, or maybe Jeff? Jeff seems like a Maccie," Willow giggles, biting her lip to avoid busting out into full blown laughter.

Eddie is quiet as the tape continues playing on, 'Second Hand News' ending as the upbeat drums for 'Dreams' kick in.

Finally, by the first chorus, he speaks up, "Unimportant. The important thing is, are you feeling better?"

Willow couldn't smile softer if she tried. Eddie is tapping his fingers, seemingly anxiously as they aren't perfectly on beat, and she can see his eyes fluttering about the front of the van to focus on anything but her. She wonders how many times he's been a giant softie to his friends, considering his entire group plays up a particularly 'tough-guy' image to mimic their leader. It's why Willow had yet to sit with them at lunch - Eddie Munson had a role to play as a long-haired, loud-mouthed metalhead. And that role wasn't the doting boyfriend, at least not in front of his friends. She had to let him have that, at the very least.

"I am, thank you," her voice is still low, and she almost questions if he can hear her over the music until he looks up to meet her gaze with a small smile to match her own.

"Good," he breathes, seeming relieved.

Had he really been that worried about me?

Willow lifts her hand, about to reach out to touch his cheek where she sees a bruise forming, when she thinks better of it. Her hands return to clasping each other tightly in her lap as she decides to bring it up. "Hey, you still need to ice your face. You're bruising."

"Yeah? I think it makes me look badass," he's grinning as he looks into his rearview mirror, fingers gingerly prodding at the darkened cheek, "What do you think? Am I a macho man now?"

"Never," Willow shakes her head, letting her hair curtain to conceal her entertained grin, "You just look like some loser who got his shit rocked."

Eddie gasps, clutching his chest as he always does, "Hey, you should see the other guy! Rumor has it his shoulder has a gnarly bruise forming-"

"From you?"

"Indirectly, yes," Eddie defends, "The bruise did in fact happen because of me."

"Really? 'Cause I heard your fake girlfriend is the real badass who gave him that bruise," Willow teases, looking over at him before leaning in with her eyebrows raised, awaiting him to hit the banter back into her side of the court.

"Technicalities are stupid," is all he huffs, rolling his eyes before a hand reaches up and pushes his hair out of his face.

Willow is shaking with her laughter as she reaches over her shoulder and pulls on the seatbelt, buckling herself in as Eddie watches her curiously. Once she's secure, she turns to him, shrugging as he continues to question her with his eyes.

"What? Your van doesn't have ice last time I checked, Munson, and ditching doesn't count if we just sit in the parking lot. Hit the pedal."

"Yes ma'am," his hand is immediately gripping his gear shift as the tape begins to play 'Don't Stop', "Where to, sweetheart?"

She flushes at the nickname, just as she always does. "Can I trust that your place has ice?"

"Wanna find out?" he wiggles his brows, already backing out of his parking space, immediately peeling wildly out of the parking lot.

---

"Do frozen peas count?"

"Do you guys really not have ice?"

"You didn't answer my question."

Eddie Munson's trailer is shockingly comfortable. It's a little messy, a little small, but still comfortable all the same.

Willow leans onto the counter separating her and Eddie as he digs through the freezer atop of his fridge, looking high and low for anything that may be relatively useful for icing his face.

"Let me see the peas," she sighs overdramatically, holding out a hand as he barely looks over his shoulder. Instead of passing them to her like a normal person, he tosses them in her general direction, making her let out a squeak as she fumbles and nearly drops them out of shock when they land perfectly in her palm. "Munson! Seriously?"

"What?" she doesn't have to see his face to see his cheesy grin.

"Do you throw frozen peas at every girl you bring back to your trailer?" she grumbles, staring at the generic brand of vegetable as she flips them over in her hand, eyes looking past the cooking instructions and catching the expiration date, "And these expired a year ago. Gross."

Eddie finally stands up, placing his hands on his hips as she continues to read over the pea nonchalantly. Out of the corner of her eye, just over the edge of the peas' packaging, she can see she was right - he's smiling. "Only the pretty ones."

"What?"

"I only throw frozen peas at the pretty girls I bring back," his words cause a warmth to spread over Willow's cheeks, and she tucks her chin down lower to catch the residual cold of the peas in hopes to diminish her blush, "I save the frozen corn for the ugly ones."

"Yeah? Is the corn expired too?"

"Hey," he shrugs, walking over and grabbing the peas from her, "Me and my uncle just don't have a lot of time for cooking. Sue us."

Willow stands up from where she had been supporting herself on their counter, looking around, "I won't sue you guys, but if you catch me cleaning or making grocery runs for you two, mind your business."

Eddie puts up a finger, waving it disapprovingly, "No, keep your hands off our treasure, Jenkins," she can't remember the last time he called her by her last name, but it makes a quiet smile spread over her lips, "We like our mess. It's fine."

"Whatever you say, Munson," she walks around the counter as she says this, entering into the kitchen space until she's in front of Eddie, holding her hand out for the peas once more, "C'mon. The entire point is we need to ice your face."

His bruise has gotten darker as time continues to pass. It still pangs her heart to see him injured, but she can swallow it down. She remembers what he said in the bathroom - how she'd burn the world down for her friends to never have to see them hurt. She may have stopped making a mental list of ways to cruelly torture Jason Carver, but everytime she catches sight of the dried blood at the edge of his nostril, she wishes she would have swung her backpack just a little bit harder.

"We will, don't worry. But first, why don't I give you a grand tour?" Eddie doesn't give Willow time to respond as he takes her hand in his, still holding onto the peas as he drags her behind him. She doesn't even fight him, opting to entertain him, "You've already seen the living room, obviously. Here we have our bathroom, and yes, we know - very spacious, very classy, no need to remind us - it's complete with a state of the art toilet that only properly flushes maybe once a week, so beware," he's rambling, waving towards the open door as they pass it. She peaks in as she fights back laughter at his joke, glancing at the sink counter. She catches sight of a razor and aftershave, not a clue if it belongs to Eddie or his uncle, "And the most exciting room, the room where all the magic happens, I present to you la casa de Eddie !"

He opens his door with flourish, finally letting Willow go as he steps to the side to let her get a closer look.

"I thought this entire trailer was your house," Willow teases, taking a step into the room. The first thing she notices is the smell - it's as if it's the first night he insisted on her wearing his jacket, being wrapped in the leather and smell of his marlboros.

"Why must you always be so technical?" he whines back, watching her carefully as she turns and looks over all the posters plastered on his wall, "Also, forgive me for the mess, Red. I'm a busy man."

"Right, of course, so I've seen," she snickers as she walks up to a flag pinned up on his wall behind his dresser that reads Corroded Coffin , "Sorry for not making it Tuesday night, by the way," she says earnestly at the reminder. He had called and begged her to come to his show that night, but she had Spanish homework that simply couldn't be procrastinated. No matter how badly she wanted to see him on stage again, in all his rockstar glory.

"No biggie," he shrugs, clasping his hands and holding the peas behind his back with a memory of a grin on his lips, "You can always come next week. Gareth actually broke one of his drums during the set, so it's probably best you didn't come. We had to end early."

"What? Seriously?" Willow turns to Eddie, and she can see the shock on his face from her genuine interest, "How the hell did he break his drums?"

"From rocking too hard, obviously, sweetheart," Eddie hums, doe eyes concentrated on her with an emotion she couldn't read, "I've broken a few guitar strings in my days. It's normal."

Willow just shakes her head, reaching up and picking up an empty beer can, "That's just insane. I can't imagine playing a guitar or drum set so hard I break it."

"Have you ever played?"

"What? An instrument? I tried to play clarinet back in middle school, but didn't get far. The moment they told me the marching band would have to get up two hours earlier than everyone else, I dropped it," Willow explains mindlessly, turning and seeing a few more empty beer cans scattered across Eddie's desk. She walks over and starts to pick them up, but he doesn't hesitate to toss the frozen peas, probably defrosted by now, onto his bed and take the cans from her hands.

"Of course you were a band nerd, Red. Also, what did I say about cleaning?" he teases her softly, putting the cans back on his desk as she glares at him. She doesn't respond, instead walking over to his bed. She's about to sit on the edge of it but decides against it as she sees that the sheets look a bit dirty.

She cringes, "How often do you change your sheets?"

"I didn't bring you into my humble abode to have you critique my cleanliness."

"What are those stains, Munson?"

"Alright," Eddie finally says, grabbing the peas first and then Willow's arm, "Let's go, tour over."

"Wait," Willow finally starts to laugh, trying to pull back on Eddie's grip, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'll stop judging you, I swear."

They both know it's bullshit by the way she's giggling. Eddie doesn't crack, maintaining a hard stance and pulling on her arm again. "Don't care. I've decided on a three date minimum."

Willow doesn't know why she's laughing so hard, throwing her weight back a bit as Eddie drags her dramatically from his bed and the stained sheets.

"Three date minimum? What?" she gasps through her giggling as she slips a bit, and Eddie's grip tightens on her as he holds her up. The slip up causes her to finally not fight his pull.

"Yeah, three date minimum before you're allowed to be in my bedroom," Eddie huffs, but she can see his amusement breaking through.

"Since when ?"

"Since just now. I just now decided that," he's finally gotten her outside of his room, letting go and turning to pull the door shut, "Bedroom rights revoked. Are you proud of yourself?"

"Very," she snorts, leaning back on the wall behind her, "Next time you take a girl into your room, clean your sheets."

"Oh, fuck off, " he groans, leaning his head back dramatically before he's turning and heading back towards his living room. Willow takes a moment before she follows, laughter finally dying out.

"I'm sorry," she sighs as he flops down onto the couch, finally leaning his head back and placing the frozen peas over his bruised face, "It really isn't that bad of a place. I'm just messing with you," her voice drops to a whisper, sincere as she sits down next to Eddie with a bit more grace than he had exhibited.

His eye, the one not covered, peaks open, looking at her carefully, " That bad? Next time we ditch, we're going back to your place. Weren't your bedroom walls covered in Cyndi Lauper and Rob Lowe?"

"Nope," Willow pops her 'p' proudly, "I actually don't have any posters."

"Really?"

"Really," Willow confirms as Eddie sits up, the peas sliding off his face as he looks a bit shocked.

"Why not?"

Willow can only shrug in answer, not really knowing what to say - she didn't have any proper reason for not putting up posters. It had just never been a priority.

"Shrugs aren't an answer," he narrows his eyes at her jokingly, adjusting to sit facing her.

She immediately mimics him, propping an elbow onto the back of their couch before leaning her head onto her hand. "They are when I don't have a real answer."

" Boring ," Eddie sighs, plucking at the bag of peas and noticing the wet spot they'd left on his knee. He immediately makes a sour face, "Gross."

"Right, that's gross, but not the stains on your be-" Willow doesn't get to finish her sentence as Eddie tosses the soggy bag at her. She lets out a small squeal when the coolness smacks against her chest, water droplets left behind on her chest and flying up onto her chin.

They're both smiling brilliantly, both reveling in their banter. Willow doesn't actually care about the state of the trailer; Eddie doesn't actually care that Willow's poking fun at him for it. There's an unspoken knowledge between them that it's all in good fun as Willow tosses the bag back at Eddie, no real power behind it as it now smacks his knee that was dry.

This is easy . This is nice . This moment erases the entire fake-dating scheme from both their minds. Steve Harrington, school, Jason Carver - none of those things exist. All that exists right now is Willow and Eddie, two friends laughing together.

Eddie finally tosses the bag onto the coffee table in front of them when Willow clears her throat, "Hey, I never got to say sorry for my... you know, my stupid reaction earlier."

"What? When you wanted to kick Jason's ass? That wasn't stupid," Eddie props his sneakers up on the table beside the peas.

"No - uh - I mean..." Willow trails off, scared to admit it. She felt childish for her anxiety, "My panic attack. I'm sorry, it was so stupid and I don't even know why I had one. Thank you for making me feel better, though."

Eddie softens while glancing at her, eyes shining as his lips purse, "Don't apologize for that, Red. The entire point of anxiety is it doesn't make any sense," he puts a hand on her knee, and she feels goosebumps trail up her thigh, hidden by her jeans and out of his sight, "I'm here if you ever need it. That's what friends are for, right?"

She struggles to take a deep breath until he retracts his hand finally, allowing her to finally sigh, "Right. Speaking of which, how does your face feel?"

At its mention, Eddie reaches up to press a hesitant finger against his nose, "Eh, I'll survive. I do know something that would make it feel better, though."

"Yeah? What's that?"

Dear god, please do not say a kiss. Don't say a kiss. Would I kiss him right now if he suggested it? Oh my God, I would kiss him right now if he suggested it.

Willow is so lost in her rapid thoughts, shocked with herself, that she doesn't notice Eddie leaning down and digging into his backpack until he's deposited a familiar book in her lap.

It's black, hard cover is still in the same condition it was as the day he'd snatched it off her desk, golden detailing still shining, albeit dull with age. The sparse pattern of the alternating autumn leaves and acorns across the center of the cover bring a comfort to Willow she had missed. It was her book: her annotated copy of Little Women.

"What?" she questions, confused as she picks up the book, turning it over a few times in her hands.

Eddie's smile speaks volumes before he opens his mouth, "Read to me."

Willow's head snaps up in his direction, mouth open and ready to argue, but one she sees his pleading eyes she's helpless. Maybe it's what she deserves for letting her mind wander too far moments before, letting the thought of kissing Eddie race through her thoughts. It had been ridiculous - just like his incessant need for her to read to him.

"It's defeating the purpose of the project if I read it to you," she weakly argues, but her fingers are already flipping open the front cover, carefully turning the first few pages of titles and prefaces.

"How so?"

"The point is to read it while also reading my annotations, taking someone else's opinion into consideration and allowing it to mold your own opinion. I can't read my annotations out loud too if I'm already just reading the story," Willow explains as she finally opens up to the first proper page of the first chapter.

Eddie shrugs, "Just tell me your thoughts and opinions as we go along. I can look over your annotations later."

Willow stares a moment too long, Eddie having his head thrown towards her as he maintains his puppy dog eyes. She sighs heavily, looking down. She doesn't catch the delight that crosses his features as he realizes he's won when she begins to softly, ever so softly, read the first sentence out loud.

"Chapter one, playing pilgrims," she introduces before clearing her throat, " 'Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents,' grumbled Jo, lying on the rug... "

---