"Remember that time I talked about making out against Carver's locker?"

Even if Willow had forgotten, Eddie was sure to remind her.

She'd be lying if she said his plan didn't excite her, in some terrible and rebellious way. They spend the rest of lunch practicing , as Eddie had so lovingly put it, once he explained his plan to her. They were going to soil the sacred ground that was Jason Carver's locker. Those were his exact words. After the final bell of the school day, they would meet up in the hallway. Eddie's locker was conveniently located right by Jason's, but being the two freaks in love that they were, they were going to start partaking in a hot make-out session that simply couldn't wait till they made it outside to Eddie's van. It would be an almost mirror image of what they'd witnessed between Jason and Chrissy in the library all those weeks before - hot, and heavy, and completely inappropriate to be taking place in somewhere so public. It was a guaranteed way to piss off Jason. It was a guaranteed way to get under his skin and Eddie not throw the first punch.

Willow knew that there was a part of Eddie hoping that Jason would initiate a fight over it. She wasn't stupid, despite how coy Eddie clearly believed he was being about it. But she was two steps ahead of him. She was also anticipating the sparks of a fight, and she was already prepared to drag an unharmed Eddie away from the scene of the crime.

He wouldn't be receiving another black eye. Not on her watch.

"Won't it just reinforce the whole 'you're a slut because you have red hair' thing that Jason said about me?" Willow had worriedly brought up between kisses towards the end of their lunch periods. At that point, the kisses had turned less urgent, more comfortable, the two of them finding a soft rhythm and familiarity in each other's mouths. Willow had even found herself making use of her own tongue during some of their kisses at that point, tasting the tobacco of Eddie's morning cigarettes on his teeth.

"Something I learned a long time ago, sweetheart, is if they want to call you a freak, a slut, whatever the insult might be - their minds are already made up. Doesn't matter if you or you aren't. Might as well have fun with it and exceed their expectations, yeah?" He'd assured her with a smirk. And she hadn't found it in herself to argue any further, not when she knew at that moment she had a free pass to kiss the arrogant smirk off his face.

So that's what she did. Instead of bickering with Eddie Munson and his possibly-awful plan, she kissed him. She let herself remain draped lazily over him, hands playing with his curls, and lips nipping into his. It was a fair trade off of bad decisions, in her opinion.

And it's all she could think about the rest of the school day. In Algebra, during study hall, and in gym with Robin. His lips on her lips, no longer a daydream but a reality. She wasn't running off of fumes and pathetic pecks anymore - she was running off of something that had sunk its teeth deeper into her subconscious. She had no idea what this meant for her and Eddie now, considering that after today, they probably wouldn't have an excuse to make-out like this again, but she wasn't worrying about future tenses. No, she was living in the present. A present moment where she had Eddie Munson's tongue down her throat.

God, I've turned into a typical high school girl. Hormonal and all.

Robin can tell something's wrong when Willow passes a sorry excuse onto their gym teacher, Mr. Johnson, of girl troubles and how she needs to go to the bathroom ten minutes before the bell.

"I should probably go with her," she blurted out as she watched Willow retreating into the locker room, not listening to any of Johnson's protests as she ran after her friend.

Willow had barely made it to her gym locker when Robin appeared beside her, breathless and bouncing on her heels.

"Jesus!" she jumps, slamming her locker open more violently than planned due to Robin's sudden appearance, "What are you? Casper the friendly ghost? Christ, Buckley."

"Nope. Not Jesus or Casper. Just your very intuitive best friend wondering why you're trying to ditch class early," Robin hums, eyes glinting curiously at a red-faced Willow.

Willow is quick to dismissively shrug, waving a hand, "I'm not trying to ditch class early. I just hate volleyball."

"You love volleyball. At summer camp-"

"This isn't summer camp. This is gym class, with bitches like Angela and Jennifer spiking the ball," Willow interrupts, grabbing her normal day clothes from the locker and beginning to strip from her gym t-shirt and shorts.

"If you wanted in on the action, you had the chance to switch positions," Robin points out, taking a seat on the bench behind Willow. She's wordless as the girl strips down to her underwear, shifting uncomfortably underneath her accusing stare.

"Yeah, well, I knew they'd put up a fight. It was useless. Why would I even need to ditch class early, Robs?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe for a certain metalhead? Rumor on the streets is you've got the hots for him."

Willow snorts, "I kind of have to have the hots for him. He is my boyfriend according to the student body."

"I'm not talking about the pretend kind of hots, 'Low. I'm talking about the real deal . All blushing and girly and daydrea-"

"Stop being so perceptive," Willow cuts her off, "You're overthinking this. Again. We can't keep having this conversation."

" No , I'm not. You're the one overthinking it," Robin is quick to defend herself as Willow tugs on her shirt, mostly white with thin red stripes save for the thicker red collar and sleeve hems, "We can stop having this conversation when one of you finally grow some balls and makes a move. When are you two going to stop hiding behind all the fake shit?"

Willow ignores the question and shimmies into her blue jeans.

"I just don't get why you won't tell him. You like him, he likes you-"

Robin gets cut off immediately, Willow bristling, "He doesn't like me."

"You sound so sure."

"I am sure. He doesn't like me, Rob."

"Where were you during lunch, then?"

She didn't normally indulge her best friend in all the details of her kisses with Eddie. She hadn't even told her about their first kiss. As far as Robin knows, Willow and Eddie have never gone beyond their brief pecks in front of fellow students.

But when Willow had returned from the woods at Eddie's side, plan set and departing off to their own classes, Robin had passed her in the hallway. And she had that annoying, knowing look when she had caught sight of a frazzled Willow.

"Me and Eddie were just talking."

"About what?"

"About Operation PDA," Willow grabs her backpack and shoves her gym clothes into it, avoiding her friend's gaze. Robin would surely kill them when she found out about their entire fiasco they were going to partake in to get back at Jason, whether it be from the gossiping peers in class tomorrow or if she managed to be a witness.

Robin snorts at this, "You were just talking? Why do I feel like you're lying?"

"A lady has to keep her secrets," Willow waves her off, finally turning and taking a seat beside Robin, working on shoving her feet into her shoes and tying them, "Don't act like you haven't lied to me before."

"I haven't!"

"You so have," Willow scoffs, sending a knowing look to her best friend, "Lying by omission is still lying."

Robin falls silent at that, and despite their joking tones, Willow knows she's right - Robin Buckley has lied to her by omission.

"You tell me what you've been hiding from me , and I'll tell you all about my rendezvous with Eddie," Willow continues on as she laces her second shoe a bit rougher than necessary. The shoe is a bit painful from how tightly she's made it, but she ignores it to face Robin instead.

Robin waits for a beat of silence before she nods, taking the deal seriously. Willow hadn't expected that.

"Okay, deal. I tell you a secret, you tell me one."

Willow's shoulders fall, eyes widening at the prospect of admitting to Robin what she clearly already believed had happened did happen, "Wait-"

"Nope. No take-backs."

" Robin ," Willow whines, "I really don't want to tell you all about Eddie's tongue in my mouth."

Robin's eyes widen like saucers.

"His what in your what ?" she nearly shrieks, making Willow cringe.

"You heard me. Now it's your turn," she tries to change the subject quickly, but Robin isn't having it.

"No, you're telling me you two were making out in secret during lunch? Willow, you fucking idiot!"

"Why am I the idiot?" Willow starts, but Robin is continuing on her rant.

"How the hell do you sit there and tell me he doesn't like you if he's sticking his tongue down your throat in private? Are you fucking joking? Oh my God, 'Low, I'm going to kill you," Robin stands up, pacing as she rants, looking terribly distressed.

Willow shrugs casually, trying to keep her emotions out of the equation, "It was just practice. Not a big deal."

Robin stops hard in her tracks, sneakers squeaking against linoleum. "Who's idea was it?"

"What- Why does that matter?"

"Who's. Idea. Was. It?" Robin is enunciating each word, glaring down at Willow.

Willow had never wanted to bury herself six feet under now, far in the ground and away from her best friend. She didn't want to analyze the interaction - she wanted to leave it be. It is what it is. They practiced making out, a lesson initiated by Eddie, and enjoyed more than it should have been by Willow.

"Eddie's," she meekly whispers, eyes casting down in shame. In shame, because she knew how her friend was going to react.

"Oh my Go -"

Saved by the bell.

The loud ringing cuts off Robin, and Willow jumps up immediately, grabbing her backpack and slamming her locker shut.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" Robin nearly shouts as girls begin to pour into the locker room, "We are not done discussing this!"

"Sorry!" Willow is already beginning to walk away backwards, clutching the strap of her backpack over her shoulder, "I've got to meet Eddie!"

"Meet Eddie? For what?" Robin follows her for a few paces, and doesn't miss the sly grin on her best friend's face.

"You'll see," she says before turning, beginning to sprint through the locker room now and dodging her classmates before tossing over her shoulder, "Or hear! Either one!"

"Willow!"

She doesn't stop at the impatient calling of her name, rushing out the doors of the gymnasium, ignoring her teacher as she jogs her way to the main building of the school. She's grateful for tying her shoes so tightly now, avoiding tripping and agile as she bounces out of the way of frustrated students who want nothing more than to get home. Some send her glares when she nearly bumps into them, not even bothering to call out any apologies. She has tunnel vision - she needs to get to Eddie quickly. The quicker she gets to him, the quicker they get to Jason's locker.

And the quicker they get to Jason's locker, the longer they can make out.

God, who have I become?

Willow bursts through the double doors of the main building, shoulder catching a few students who mutter under their breath, but she pays them no mind. She slows her sprint to a speed walk, sneakers squeaking against the hallway floor. Her eyes are downcast, focused on not tripping and falling. So focused that she doesn't notice when the very boy she was rushing to meet steps out into the hallway and right into her path.

He's just as oblivious as she is at first, animatedly talking to Jeff as they leave their final class of the day together.

It's only when she attempts to step around the boys, who she still hadn't recognized, in order to barrel around them that he notices. Solely due to Willow accidentally checking him with her shoulder in a way that sends her stumbling.

"Woah!" He yells out as her body flails, his arms immediately shooting out to stabilize her, "Watch where you're go-" He cuts himself off as she suddenly looks up at him, wide-eyed and clearly embarrassed before the recognition lights up on her own face as well. His face breaks into a grin, the previous annoyance wearing off, "Oh, it's you."

She stands up straight, shoulder still aching, cheeks still blushing, "Yeah. It's me."

"Christ, Red, there's easier ways to get a guy's attention than dislocating his shoulder. You know that, right?" He's teasing her as he immediately brings his arm around her shoulders, tucking her into his side without a second thought as they start to continue down the hallway with Jeff.

She doesn't care about his teasing. Or the looks from students. Or the clockwork whispers. No, all that she cares about is the nickname that has returned - Red . She's had time to recover from Jason's cruel words, and hearing Eddie call her that feels like coming home. It's a blanket of comfort coming down around her, reassuring her that everything was right.

"Yeah," she finally snaps out of her thoughts, putting on her best banter for him, "I think I'm finally starting to get that. Although, my shoulder is definitely the one that received damage, you brick house."

"Apologies, m'lady," he says this as he suddenly leans down and places a kiss on the crown of her head, hand softly massaging the shoulder she'd rammed into him accidentally.

The kiss on her head is what gets to her. She's flushed, and if she wasn't pressed into his side, her knees surely would have buckled. It was such a small display of affection. And yet no matter how microscopic, it burrowed into her chest and left her with a flurry of butterflies.

"You guys are disgusting," Jeff scoffs from Eddie's side, halting at his locker.

Eddie simply flips him off as they continue down the hall, calling out to his friend, "See you at band practice, asshole!"

Willow smiles at the interaction, making Eddie glance down at her.

"And what has you smiling like that?"

"Nothing. I just like Jeff," she shrugs to the best of her abilities, his arm still heavy around her, "All your friends are pretty nice, I guess."

"Don't let them hear that," he laughs, tugging her in closer, "It'll go straight to their egos. But for what it's worth, they think you're nice too. They've been asking about you coming to Hellfire again sometime."

"I'm down," she immediately agrees. She doesn't have to think about it - she's grown fairly fond of the group of nerds. Besides, last time she went, she had a decent amount of fun.

"This Friday?"

"Sure. I'm free this Friday."

Eddie's smile is so soft that Willow melts. She knows that he had said that it was his friends that wanted her to attend Hellfire again, but it was clear that it meant a lot to him as well. "Cool. It's a date."

They were finally approaching Eddie's locker, and therefore Jason's locker, sooner than she had anticipated. Their plan re-enters her memory.

Are we really about to do this?

"So, why exactly were you running down the hallway earlier? Eager about something?" he's nonchalant as he asks her this, finally dropping his arm from her shoulders and turning to face her. He leans his hip into the lockers beside him, arms crossed making his biceps strain in his shirt sleeves, and she wants to die.

"Yeah, eager to get our plan over with," she scoffs out the lie, trying to look unaffected. But he wears a knowing smirk, and she knows she hasn't gotten away with it.

He waves a gentle hand suddenly, and she doesn't have to turn her head to know it's in the direction of Jason's locker, just a few steps over. "Better get this show on the road, then, babe."

She ignores the nickname. Instead, she follows him as he casually walks the distance to the locker, stopping in front of their destination and turning to her. People are watching them, no doubt curious as to why they're standing in front of the king of Hawkins High's locker.

Eddie's hands are hesitant before they fall to her waist, grip light as he tilts his head down towards her, whispering low enough no one but her can hear him, "You're still okay with this, right?"

She nods, more eager than she would like. She expects a repeat of the woods, for him to demand that she uses her words, but he doesn't. Not with a crowd. He stays silent and gives her a hard look instead, his hands squeezing her hips ever so slightly.

So she doesn't make him demand it from her, and supplies it immediately. "Yes, I'm still okay with this. Now what's a girl gotta do to get a kiss around here?"

He breaks his hard demeanor for a second, eyes fluttering shut as he chuckles at her, her own amusement mirroring his. She's comfortable with how close they are, for once not nervous at the way their foreheads and noses are nearly brushing. Instead, she's drinking in the proximity, swimming with comfort at his scent and the way the rest of the world melts away when he invades her space this way.

They start slow. It feels exactly like their lesson earlier, carefulness and anticipation still there as Eddie takes the lead. Each kiss leaves her just as breathless, but she tries to focus, to remind herself they're putting on a show. But that only reminds her that they have an audience, which only short-circuits her nerves worse. Eddie clearly notices this, and as he pulls back from yet another kiss, he encourages her hands that were grasping his forearms to lift up to his shoulders.

"You good?" he murmurs, lips brushing hers again.

"Yeah," she nods with a small smile, swallowing down her nerves, "Yeah, I'm good. But aren't we supposed to be making out ? This doesn't feel much like making out."

When Eddie pulls back this time, Willow opens her eyes to find him staring down at her, clearly amused.

"Someone wasn't listening during our lesson," he hums. She's going to reply with a smartass remark, something along the lines of saying she had a shit teacher (which was a complete lie), when his lips crash back down on hers.

The energy of the kiss has shifted. It's no longer soft and gentle, jumping straight into the deep end rather than wading in slowly. Eddie is no longer holding her delicately, his grip tightening on her as he maneuvers her between himself and the lockers. She isn't sure which sensation she gasps about - the feeling of the cold metal against the back of her neck, or Eddie suddenly biting her bottom lip, dragging away slowly.

"That better?" he's mumbling, voice still low enough to keep their conversation private.

" So much better," she admits. She has no shame, not after he's kissed her like that.

When he kisses her again, she knows she has no need to be embarrassed. His tongue is eager as it laves against hers, and one of his hands comes up to the side of her throat, wrapping partially around it as his thumb trails over her jawline. He's panting just as hard as she is, each breath slipping into her mouth, making her sigh against him. The nerves are long forgotten. Her hands twitch, no longer content with just resting on his shoulders and tangling into place in his curls.