𝙸'𝚖 𝚊 𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛,

𝙵𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝙸'𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚛.

𝙸𝚏 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚊 𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚌𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝, 𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛.

𝙸'𝚖 𝚊 𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛, 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚊 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚛.

𝙶𝚛𝚒𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜,

𝙸𝚏 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚢, 𝙸'𝚍 𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛.

She got in the van...

She stupidly got into his van after writing a quick note to Brontë and left the letter on the dash. She left the keys hidden in his middle compartment with the weed and then she was off.

She hopped back into the passenger seat of Eddie's van thinking that if something bad did happen to her, some permanent rest would do her good.

She was less worried about being murdered now and a little more worried about what people will think. Even Eddie... She didn't want him to get the wrong idea or gloat about doing something with her that never happened when they went back to school. That was her main concern. Not if she'd survive the night.

And if she was being gullible, she wasn't concerned with the future or what would happen once the weed wore off. She was only thinking about the present, about getting warm, about spending more time with him...

But she couldn't admit to it. She wasn't supposed to be looking for reasons to hang out with him. Even if he did just admit that he wasn't in a cult, he was still the wrong person to be friends with.

"Don't smile like that," she grumbled, catching his side-eye as he pulled the car out of the parking lot.

"What? I'm not allowed to smile?" he shot back, chuckling lowly and moving for something in the backseat.

"Not like you just got pulled over with a body in your trunk and walked away with a warning," she scoffed.

Eddie hummed amusingly before he found what he was looking for in the back of his seat.

He pulled out a cardboard box that was followed by rattling. He turned his attention back onto the road and slid the box onto his lap.

"Well, I'm sorry. I can't help it," he chuckled. "You've just proven yourself guilty."

Lennon looked over at him nervously. Not only did his accusation remind her of the treatment she received at home, but his eyes kept going from the box to the road like he was hardly paying attention to their surroundings. The combination of the two worried her.

"Could you keep your eyes on the road?" she sighed irritably.

"Well if you don't like my driving, you're more than welcome to take the wheel," he offered, continuing to shuffle through the tapes inside the box as he drove.

It wasn't like he was swerving into oncoming traffic or anything. It's just the fact that he wasn't prepared for an accident that put her into a dulled state of worry. He was actually a good driver all in all.

"You know I don't have my license. And I'm not guilty of anything," she pulled her jacket closer to her body for comfort and warmth.

"Doesn't mean you can't or don't want to drive. And, if you were smart, you would've kicked me in the balls and ran away. But, because you know I'm right, and because you aren't actually the kind of person you want everyone to think you are, you're here," he smirked down at the cassettes until he found the one he was looking for.

"No sane person would follow me home in the middle of the night," he scoffed, rolling his eyes and inserting the Scorpions cassette into his van's system.

"Again," she shook her head. "Do you think that's assuring?"

"Whuh..." he looked over at her and guiltily turned away. He kept saying sketchy shit but he had to try and defend himself now.

"Well if I was planning on kidnapping you I wouldn't have told you about it, would I?" he shoved the cardboard box back behind his seat and let the music fill the empty spots in their conversation.

"So you're calling me insane for coming along?" she clarified.

"In an endearing way, yes," he agreed.

"And if you aren't the cold-blooded cult killer that everybody says you are, then why wouldn't I trust you?" she asked, finding his wavering standpoint to be odd and distrustful.

He kept treating her like she was the distrustful one; like he wanted to confuse her because she herself was confusing.

Was he someone she needed to fear or not?

"That's exactly what I'm wondering," he commented nonchalantly. "Why would you trust my word over theirs?" he leered. "Especially when is them who you call your friends..."

"Because you're the subject of our debate..." she pointed out incredulously. "Young, dumb teens gossip. And when your voice is too small to rectify yourself, it can get out of hand."

Her words sounded too knowing again. Eddie recognized the tone in her voice as the same one she shared when she talked about grief. It was like she was more than educated on the matter. She had lived it, and she understood it on a more personal and intricate level.

Eddie's suspicious glaring caused alarm but Lennon wasn't able to physically feel the fear behind it. "Unless I shouldn't trust your word and I should jump out of this moving vehicle right about now..." she wondered, peering out the window and determining if she would be able to tumble out alive. She was only partially joking, but the more he pressured her, the more she had to question her odd safety in his presence.

"There's no need," Eddie informed her, slowing the van and turning into a trailer park Lennon was unable to identify due to the dark blanket of the night. "If you wanna run, you can do it on stable ground," he smiled cheekily and flamboyantly.

Lennon grabbed her school bag and slung it over her shoulder, knowing there was nothing useful inside it in case she needed to defend herself or contact an official, but the familiarity gave her some confidence and added comfort so she brought it along.

She followed Eddie towards the relevantly clean mobile home, keeping her eyes peeled for any red flags which would send her straight home for further debate on whether to trust this geek or not.

But somehow, no matter how scary Eddie might have seemed in subtext, from all his creepy comments about murder, death, and other suspicious behavior, his home looked clean and well-kept. It wasn't extravagant or rich looking, but it was clean.

Lennon knew what the trailer park looked like across the lake. What little grass grew over there was always brown and crispy, needles were found all over the place which made walking a minefield, trash was scattered all over the premises, and the homes were falling apart.

This was completely different. Even his trash lids were where they needed to be and the light above the door was a bright LED instead of one of those CFLs that always turned orange over time.

There was a brown couch and leather armchair on the porch that didn't reek of mold or mildew. There was a small ashtray sitting beside them filled with a few butts that have yet been thrown out. There was a coke can and a Coors can on the small wooden table with an old book sitting against the plastic lining of the wall. Then on the other end of the porch, Lennon managed to make out an old, white electric fan that was plugged into the wall by the leather chair and the rest was completely vacant.

A powerline ran overhead, right past the tin roof of the house, and the concrete steps leading up to the door were well-used but there were barely any knicks or cracks in the stone.

When Lennon made her way inside after Eddie unlocked and held the door open for her, the inside was more cluttered and messy but it wasn't nearly as scary as she was expecting it to be.

There was a living room off to the right of the door she walked in front of. There was a kitchen with a two-seated dining table that was sat next to the door which held old wrappers, records, magazines, a Budwiser can, and yet another ashtray.

Lennon stepped to the side to let Eddie in and watched as he scrambled to pick up the mess on the table as if he were ashamed of leaving the place so dirty. "Sorry for the mess," he drew out apologetically. "Uh, the maid took the week off," he said, turning over his shoulder and shooting her a contrite smile in hopes of forgiveness.

She assured him she had seen worse.

She watched him go into the kitchen which was only a few steps from the table to throw the trash out.

As he had his back turned, Lennon was able to scope the place out in more depth.

There were mugs from various conventions and states on the wall next to the window which was covered by a rasta-colored blind. She noticed the phone on the wall by the kitchen and immediately felt at ease with it.

There was a wide hallway past the kitchen that Lennon could only see an open room through so she turned towards the living room and examined the rows of memorabilia that lined the upper portion of the walls in a hoarder-esc manner. Another couch was sat on the inside with a small box TV sat across from it in the corner of the wall and the breakfast bar that opened the kitchen into the living room.

There was a basket full of clothes that sat on top of a washing machine in the kitchen when she turned back around but she couldn't wrap her head around it.

She expected it to be dirtier, more dingey, more... drug dealer-like inside. It smelled faintly of cigarettes and stale beer but it wasn't thick and stuffy. The air quality was surprising pleasant considering everything.

And the fact Eddie wore grungey clothes and met the criteria of a lazy teenage boy, she sincerely exected the place to be wrecked and abandoned. But it wasn't. It was messy but not inconsiderably so. It was so mundane. It was like she had stepped into just anybody's house.

"You seem a little young to be a world traveler," Lennon looked back up at all the hats and merchandise on the walls with a gentle stare.

"Huh?" Eddie turned from clearing the table and breakfast bar of its discarded trash and fast food wrappers to see her eyes were looking up near the ceiling. "Oh," he nodded his head. "Those are my uncles," he informed her. "Granddad was kind of a rockstar so he and my dad grew up traveling a lot when they were young," he moved from the countertops and took the opportunity with her back turned to take the pile of clean laundry into his uncle's bedroom, hoping she didn't notice it in the first place.

Lennon stopped looking around and furrowed her brows in question.

His dad's brother? He was living with the brother of the man who left him and his mom on their own before he hit puberty? That was odd.

Though... Maybe not so odd. The system was a weird development. Lennon had aunts and uncles in Vermont that could've been given custody but they decided to send her to Indiana because Miss Riordan and Brontë had spent some time with her before... before her life changed forever. And the court saw Brontë being raised as perfectly as he was by his mother and thought Lennon could treat Miss Riordan as a step-mom of sorts.

So, maybe his uncle was the only guy left in his family to watch him after his mom died. Or maybe his uncle was the most financially stable. She didn't know. It wasn't her place to ask either. What she did question was why Eddie was still living with him even though he would've been able to leave when he turned eighteen.

"W-" she turned around but faced an empty room. Her blood ran cold for a moment once she saw she was alone but her worry quickly faded when Eddie returned from the back hallway. His eyes went to her in surprise, not expecting her to be looking at him so soon.

"What?" he asked innocently, stopping in his tracks and wondering if she saw something that made her uncomfortable enough to want to leave.

"Your uncle?" she pondered, taking a step towards the kitchen to meet his eye better. "Where's he at..." she said with a nervous pitch in her voice.

She didn't know if this was Eddie's house at all. It could be a friend's house. He could've broken in. He could be homeless and this was the house he decided to squat in. She could be walking into a trap. There could be about a dozen lowlives waiting to jump her.

She didn't even see any photos to confirm that this was his residence.

There were endless possibilities and yet Eddie seemed contained. His home seemed homey and he was endearing when he welcomed her inside.

Everything in her body was telling her to go home, to not trust him, to leave, to run...

But her intuition was telling her she was safe. She felt safe.

And it had been a long time since she physically felt safe.

"He works nightshift at the power plant," Eddie informed her, moving for the fridge at the heart of the trailer. "He usually doesn't get off until five on Fridays."

There was the sound of clinking glass and shifting objects inside the fridge when Eddie bent down so Lennon got nearer.

"We've got beer, Red Bull, Moutain Dew, and..." he cringed as he moved for the small plastic containers full of green and red jello. "Some really old and questionable jello shots," Eddie turned his face towards Lennon as he held up the stiff gelatin with an unamused smirk clinging to his face.

Lennon smiled. "I guess I'll take a Redbull..." she shrugged and took the can from Eddie before he got to his feet with a Mountain Dew in the other hand.

"I need to go to one of your games," he spoke out suddenly, briskly walking in the other direction towards the pantry and grabbing a couple of bags of Cheezits.

"What?" she quickly asked.

"Well most places have this thing called water..." he smirked mischievously, brushing her shoulder as he rounded her and went down the hall she was yet to see. "And athletes tend to stay away from sugar and carbs but uh... Not you..." he widened his eyes as he stopped in front of her face before he continued down the hall.

Lennon huffed out a disbelieving breath of air and rolled her eyes. "Because I didn't ask for something not offered to me, I'm suddenly an imposter?" she furrowed her brows with contempt, following Eddie into the first room she came across.

She was suddenly inhaling a strong whiff of weed, cigarettes, cotton, mint, cinnamon, and some kind of woody cologne as she entered.

Her eyes were immediately entranced by all the posters and graffiti that decorated the beige walls. There was a massive stain in the corner of the room from water damage but the rest of the room looked to be in good shape.

It was Eddie's belongings that looked messily organized.

There was a small wooden desk that occupied an old computer that didn't look used in a while to her left. There was a dresser and a mirror across from the door and a closet beside that. An entertainment center was stationed next to the closet and there was a bed off to her right.

There was an acoustic guitar sitting by the desk and another electric one sitting in the open compartment of his closet. There was a massive amp on the top of his dresser and a smaller one occupying the chair to the computer along with some denim and black clothes Lennon didn't pay much mind to.

There was a record player and stereo system on the entertainment center at the foot of his full-sized bed. Sat on the floor in front of those were two cratefuls of records. Besides those, there were black boots, a pair of black and white Converse, white Reeboks, and some brown work boots partially hidden underneath his bed.

"Certainly makes you suspicious."

"What?" Lennon's head turned towards the sound of his voice as she was ripped from her trance.

Eddie had thrown himself onto the foot of his bed, quickly kicking something underneath with his heels before kicking back and opening his can of soda.

"Aren't jocks supposed to be some of the healthiest people on the planet?" Eddie looked up curiously before taking a sip of his drink. "And don't they sleep a lot better too?" he motioned towards the energy drink in her hand but she was taken off guard again when her eyes landed on a pair of long-chained handcuffs hanging from the wall by his closet and dresser.

Eddie noticed her unsettled staring and so he turned towards the source before feeling his stomach turn to knots.

"Handcuffs," Lennon's voice went up an octave as she tried to hide her amusement. She turned to Eddie with a stifled smile, gently nodding her head, and pointed towards the metal hanging a little ways from his bed. She pursed her lips and her eyes immediately fell to the ground as she tried not to laugh.

"Those are..." Eddie pointed nervously. "Those are just..." he shrugged embarrassingly before getting to his feet and slamming his can of soda down on the dresser beside them, quickly snatching the chains off the wall and chucking them into the closet before he shut them out. "Not important," he cringed, smiling skittishly.

"Uh-huh," she sang out, snickering and lifting her finger to her nose to try and hide her enjoyment.

But Eddie couldn't help but stare.

She wasn't fearful. She wasn't uncomfortable. She wasn't judgmental. She was laughing. He couldn't tell if that was better or worse than scaring her off. But it was definitely something to be remarked upon.

"What's so funny?" he poked, moving past her to clear a seat.

"Nothing," she giggled, sniffling and turning to watch him move a small Fender amplifier and a discarded pair of pants from the seat by the computer. "Can we just make this quick? I'm fucking starving," she complained.

Then Eddie burst out laughing.

Lennon quickly furrowed her brows curiously but he didn't see her cautious stare. "What?" she giggled timidly.

"Nothing," he scoffed, tossing his clothes into the hamper next to the door before taking a seat. "Here," he tossed her a bag of Cheezits with rosy cheeks and prominent dimples making an appearance beside his smile.

She caught the bag with ease and passed his half-hearted test. "You can catch," he commented. "I'll give you that."

She looked down at the bag in her hands before shooting her stare back to Eddie a few feet away.

Eddie had opened his bag and started munching on them but Lennon was suspicious.

"Trust me," he shot her a charismatic smile for encouragement. "These are the best damn things when you've got the munchies."

Lennon squinted at him. She didn't know what to believe about this guy.

He kept surprising her as if she wasn't already suspicious before she started to get to know him. His room was covered in satanic tribulations, graffiti, heavy metal band posters, underground event fliers for music, and video game posters. It was slightly daunting but she stayed. And now this guy was giving her food and drinks and he still didn't act like he wanted something from her.

He kept the door open, refused a beer, cleared the room for company, and even offered her a laugh. Was he supposed to be so effortlessly charming? How was she supposed to pretend to hate him? How was she supposed to pretend not to be flattered every time he met her eye?

"I've trusted you this far. Why stop now?" she sighed, opening the bag and realizing the salt was exactly what her body was craving.

She stood in the middle of the room awkwardly and Eddie quickly took notice of her discomfort.

"You can take a seat, you know..."

Lennon raised her eyebrows and chuckled. "Yeah," she threw another cracker into her mouth. "I just saw you throw two pairs of handcuffs into the closet," she giggled when she noticed the corners of Eddie's lips lift slightly. "I don't think I want to sit on the bed they were more than likely used on."