𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝙸'𝚖 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙.

𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚎'𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝.

𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚠?

𝙻𝚘𝚘𝚔,

𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚑,

𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢'𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢, 𝟻𝟷𝟻𝟶.

𝙱𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚎𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎, 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚒𝚝𝚢.

𝙸'𝚖 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚒𝚍.

𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚑, 𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚒𝚍, 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑.

𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚞𝚙, 𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗

𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝.

𝙸'𝚖 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚗𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕 𝚒𝚝.

Lennon kept thinking about that story her brother told her about Eddie.

She couldn't stop thinking about his mom, his dad, or his friend. She knew Warren had overdosed, but Eddie and Brontë were around drugs all the time. She just thought it was an accident or he wanted to commit suicide and decided to use what was on hand to do it. She didn't think Eddie would be the one who practically orchestrated his best friend's death.

And even if that were true, if Eddie gave Warren the weapon that killed him, how did Brontë know? That's a detail in someone's life that wouldn't be thrown around to just anybody, especially a hot shot jerk of a jock like her brother.

Then she thought about Eddie's father. He was nowhere to be seen and Eddie didn't talk about him much. Lennon knew Eddie's grandpa made music and toured the world with Eddie's dad and uncle, and that the man who made him was a fisherman who left him early on in his life. But other than that, Eddie didn't talk about him. She wondered what he might have been arrested for. She wondered if he was ever arrested or if Brontë was full of shit.

But what occupied Lennon's mind most was his mother. She died in Eddie's sophomore year. He was fifteen then. But Lennon never asked how she died. But even if she was sick, again, how did Brontë hear such a story?

None of it made sense but it did make her feel sick. The thought of Eddie being at the center of so much tragedy made her heart ache and her stomach was contracting disagreeably.

She needed to stop thinking about it. She couldn't be that person who hears gossip and runs with the rumor as if it were the truth. She couldn't believe it. She needed to hear the truth from Eddie. Though, she didn't know if she could pull herself to ask.

She didn't feel like someone worthy of being told a story like that. Especially since she couldn't give Eddie her full story. She couldn't live with those double standards. You reap what you sow. She couldn't sow and therefore, who was she to reap?

She got dressed and covered the bruise on her neck before stepping out and finding the house to be empty.

Her eyes were dry and she had crept into the kitchen for a protein bar so she didn't pass out from starvation. It didn't taste the same way it had before, it was less satisfying and a little more filling but she swallowed it all anyway.

She grabbed her Walkman and a bag before gently folding Eddie's jacket in beside the sketchbook she kept inside and made sure to be careful not to ruin the leather before zipping it up. She grabbed a bottle of soda and left the house with a note just in case she was out for a while and Brontë needed to know where she went.

Because even though she was mad at him for calling her a slut, calling Eddie all sorts of horrid names, and disrespecting his step-mom and half-brother, she respected him enough to ease his worry whenever she could.

She slipped on Eddie's cotton gloves to keep her trembling hands safe from frostbite and the beanie he had lent her was placed on top of her loosely braided wet hair. She had left the house after locking it up and the journey through the snow was just as bad as it sounded.

Her wet hair made her feel even colder than she would've usually felt and the same songs kept repeating in her ears since she had gone on quite a few walks since moving to Indiana. She was tired of listening to the same thing over and over and eventually shoved her headphones into her bag and had to travel the rest of the way in near silence.

She kept looking over her shoulder, worried someone was watching her but even if there were, there was too much movement to notice.

Cars drove past which caused a gust of dirty wind to crack her lips and stiffen her muscles but she kept going.

She didn't want to be in that house anymore.

She had a lot to return to Eddie and she felt obligated to apologize for her sexually frustrated pawing the night before. The thought made her cringe but it caused a burning sensation in her stomach and that counteracted the cold of the winter season so it made it possible to keep going.

By the time Lennon got off of the main road, her nose and ears were almost entirely numb and her jaw began to chatter.

The sound of cars passing by stopped but she had the company of her black Reeboks crushing the softly fallen snow on the ground to keep her company. The very satisfying crunch that came with every step made her feel better about her situation but it wouldn't last.

She clung close to the warmth her body created and mapped out the scenery in her head from last time since she didn't have Eddie's written address on her this time. She didn't want to get lost but it was a relevantly small town so she took her chances.

Fifteen minutes passed and the snow had gotten heavier and the sky had gotten ill with congestion. The clouds overhead were thick and grey and the sun was no longer anywhere to be seen. It was only two in the afternoon but it was getting dark and the weather felt dreary.

She stopped in the middle of the strip of a less busy road and turned to see if she could cross. Houses lined the street and the sky was darkening so fast that she was just waiting for the streetlights to turn on soon.

She looked to the left and everything was clear. She looked to the right, and she could suddenly feel her heartbeat in her chest.

It wasn't unusual, not exactly... though, maybe... no... it's fine.

There were a few cars parked in the street by the houses but what caught Lennon's eyes was the sudden jerk of a silver car as it came to an abrupt halt the second her eyes flit toward the main road she recently deserted.

She stared at the front of the silver car that started to match the color of the world around her to consider it but it didn't move. She started to wonder if she made it up; that the car was just parked and whoever owned it was minding their own business inside their house. She felt crazy. She felt like a disaster.

She was so paranoid she was starting to make shit up.

The longer she stared suspiciously, the longer it stayed put. There was no movement inside and even if there was, she wouldn't be able to see through the chunks of fallen snow between them.

She could feel her heartbeat rattle the bars of her rib cage like it wanted out. She couldn't decipher the pure fear from the anxiety now. She almost always felt like there were eyes on the back of her head. It had become a normal occurrence but she couldn't ignore that gut-wrenching feeling when she could have swore she saw that car stop the instant she turned toward it.

She waited for it to move or for someone inside to make any sort of movement but it was as still as a statue. Even if someone had just hit their brakes, she just needed to know she wasn't losing her mind. If someone was actually inside, the chances of someone following her were so slim it was ridiculous how scared she was.

They could be lost and looking at a map, they could be getting ready to go inside the house they were in front of, they could be waiting out the snow before going any further, or they could have a child in the back that needed tending to, or she simply imagined the whole thing. She would rather continue walking with the fear of being watched than fathom the idea of being so mentally unstable that her head was warping reality.

But when she outlined the car's exterior for reference, it stood still and she felt even worse. She resorted to sighing before shaking her head in shame and crossing the road.

Paranoid piece of shit. You should have just stayed home.

She turned the corner in defeat and found the entrance to the trailer park. She turned over her shoulder, still unable to shake the feeling of being watched but the silver car was nowhere to be seen. There was no one around for that matter.

Maybe God was real. Maybe it was Him keeping a close watch on her. Maybe it was Him who made her feel so dirty and guilty for simply trying to move on with her life.

She took a deep breath and held onto it as she walked into Eddie's neighborhood. The roads weren't plowed like the rest she had walked but there were lots of tracks left in the earth, turning the snow a murky, dark color as she treaded over a light layer of freshly fallen snow.

She kept looking over her shoulder, expecting to see that car sitting a little way down the road. She began to expect someone to stare from inside their home as she trudged through the snow to reach the Munson's trailer, but every time she checked, she felt even more guilty and scared when there was no one there.

The doctors she saw in Vermont said it was normal for someone who went through what she did to constantly feel on edge. Paranoia was a common occurrence in people with PTSD, especially those as young as she was, but she stopped listening to them when one of the many people in suits and white coats said "In the instance of these allegations being false..."

As if they had any right to disbelieve her. As if they had any right to treat her like some kind of criminal.

It was why she didn't want to see anyone after the move. She knew she probably needed therapy to say the least, but after that, after having to repeat everything and replay those nights over and over again in her head just for someone else to interpret it, she didn't need it that badly. At least... That's what she thought.

But after seeing things and feeling an overwhelming amount of constant fear, she didn't know if that was so true anymore.

By the time she reached Eddie's trailer, it was only a little after three but she was ready to get out of the cold.

She found Eddie's van parked in front of his place. It was partially buried in a few inches of snow and sitting right in front of the rusty, broken, and gutted car that always clung to the side of the house.

He was home.

She shivered and exhaled loudly, walking through the cloud of steam she produced and lifted her clothed knuckles to the door.

She turned over her shoulder one more time and saw nothing out of the ordinary. She scanned the expanse and counted the cars in people's driveways as if that would've made her feel any better about hallucinating.

She wanted to shake the feeling. There was enough evidence to convince her that she was fine- or... as fine as someone like her could be. Because clearly, she wasn't fine if she was beginning to make shit up.

There was no answer so she took her glove off and knocked again, making the sound louder than before.

She glanced around again and began chewing at the inside of her lip as she waited for a response. The longer she waited, the more paranoid she felt. She just wanted to get inside. She just wanted the paranoia to stop. She wanted anything but this.

She knew she was safe but she was still waiting to feel it. Some part of her thought Eddie would help with the feeling part of that.

Finally, the door popped open and spooked her in the midst of her catastrophic scanning. There was no silver car, no odd pair of eyes, nothing.

The sound caused her head to snap in the direction of the door and all her worries about being watched dissipated the instant she found a pair of familiar brown eyes staring back at her.

"What the hell are you doing out here?" Eddie aspirated, widening the door once he saw who it was. His eyes left hers quickly to see if there was anyone to accompany her and when he saw she was alone and shivering in the cold, he was quick to step out and take her by the shoulder.

"I... I need-d-ed to apologize," she huffed out a breath of warm air when Eddie led her inside. "Fuck," she scoffed under her breath, smiling ridiculously at the ground and shoving her hands underneath her armpits to keep warm.

"You've got fucking frost in your hair," he drew out with concern, turning toward her after closing the door. His hand shot out towards her and took the strand of white hair dangling loosely around her face and lifted it so she could see.

She smiled and caused Eddie to roll his eyes. "What are you doing here?" he asked her, seeing as she had little to no concern for her health.

Lennon inhaled the strong smell of cigarettes and musty warmth that was surely radiating from the old heating system. The heat eased her sharp breathing and she felt her muscles loosen considerably before she turned to her bag and trembled as she lifted Eddie's jacket up to him.

"I have e-enough cl-othes to style a whole other per-person," she muttered nervously. "And I couldn't... I needed to apologize for th-the other night," she smiled sympathetically.

"You walked two miles in the snow to return some clothes?" he narrowed his eyes at her and took the jacket in disbelief. "Your hair is literally white," he mocked her with a worried look in his eyes.

"It's hardly two miles," she scoffed.

It was a fifteen-minute drive between their houses, but because Lennon knew how to cut through yards and knew backroads, it cut the distance from sixteen miles to two due to the organization of their communities. She could never stand how complicated the roads were made to fit as many people possible into one tiny plot of land.

"You have frost," he hardened his voice, "in your hair," he blinked incredulously but Lennon still didn't seem to acknowledge her state.

"It was wrong of me to uhm..." she ignored his protests, shivered, and smiled past her discomfort. "I shouldn't have pushed myself on you like that last night..." she pulled at the hat on her head and felt friction on the strands of hair that froze to the fibers of Eddie's beanie.

"No," Eddie tilted his head and furrowed his brows with care. "You do not need to apologize," he insisted.

"No," she complained and gave at the hat with a few gentle tugs which freed her head from the cloth. "No, I do," she sighed. "It was... it was uncalled for. I don't know what came over me but-"

She started to pull at the remaining glove on her hand but Eddie stopped her by wrapping his hands over hers. "You're okay," he promised, clasping his fingers around her trembling hands. His eyes went out to hers with a deep look of concern and the flurries of curls around his delicate face made him look even more alluring.

He could physically feel her shaking and he knew better than to blame it solely on the cold weather. He noticed it before. A while ago, he noticed how her hands would shake when she was nervous or anxious. Only, he couldn't decipher her mood from the cold back then. Now he could.

"Why are you actually here?" he wondered. "You alright?"

He had his head tilted toward her with his hands still clasped around hers as he warmed her up. His eyes were big and brown and beautiful and she couldn't stop looking into them. They were too glorious to be denied. Even if she did hate the worry they struck her with, she couldn't stop peering into them.

Lennon started to worry at her lip as she thought back to the night before and what her brother was saying to her.

She didn't know where to start. The truth was, she didn't know why she was there or if she was okay.

She didn't know why she came to him. It was almost too soon to see him again after forcing herself on him and putting him through the torture of seeing her with Billy, but she didn't know where else to go.

Her mind was in a thousand different places. Her feet were moving but her mind wasn't quite guiding her actions. It was like it was instinct to come to him. She didn't even consider why. She just wanted to. She needed to.

She missed him. She owed him his property back. She needed to apologize. She wanted to ask about his family. She needed to make sure he was alright. She needed company that didn't feel forced or conditional. She needed to not be alone right now.

"I'm sorry," she slipped her hands free from his after considering all she wanted to say to him. "I don't... I didn't mean to use you like that I... I don't know. I-"

"It's okay," Eddie shook his head and quickly shoved his hands into his pant pockets. "Are you alright?" he asked again as he examined her face. "You don't look so good," he peered into her green gaze and grew with anticipation.

"I'm... I wanted to make sure you were okay," she replied wearily.

The thoughts were annoyingly infectious. All she wanted to ask was if what Brontë said was true. Horrible images of what she went through were suddenly turning into similar images of what might have happened to Eddie. Only, she would never understand the amount of guilt he would feel if it were all true.

"I'm not the one who just treaded through a snow storm to deliver a jacket and some gloves," he shook his head with a puzzled look on his face.

"It's not a snow storm," she shook her head and smiled through his concern.

Eddie scoffed and quickly walked past her. He was in the living room and knelt down in front of the small TV by the breakfast bar and turned up the volume of the news.

"There will be a high of forty-one degrees with a low of one degree throughout the day but Hawkins residents are encouraged to stay off the roads and drive with caution due to the high winds and heavy snowfall between nine am and eight pm..."

"You were saying?" Eddie turned to volume down again and turned to her with sarcasm.

"I was saying I was sorry but I see you're still as sarcastic as ever which means you're fine so..." she fiddled with the gloves and peeled them from her fingers before placing them over the hat on the table beside the door.

"Where's your uncle? I thought he was off on Sundays and Mondays," she asked once she noticed how quiet the house was with only her and Eddie to occupy it.

"He went into town for groceries... He should be back soon..."

Eddie got to his feet nervously.

She remembered his uncle's work schedule. Why did she pay so much attention to the stupid shit he said? He was never careful with what he said because people often forgot or didn't care enough to listen. But not Lennon. No. She had to remember his dead best friend's name and his uncle's work schedule and everything in between.

She cared.

Why did she have to care?

"Well... Uhm..." she took a deep breath and kept chewing at the inside of her lip to keep from blurting out the only thing on her mind. "Since you're doing well and... I am sorry about the other night... and you've got all your clothes back," she motioned towards the pile on the table and wrapped one arm around her stomach and another draped over her shoulder for comfort. "I guess I should go..."

"Why?" Eddie asked almost too quickly. "You're not walking back. I'll drive you home, I just don't know if I trust that you're okay..." he approached her and examined her.

Her hair was still frosty and her face looked a little pale and sunken in. She was wearing a puffy beige jacket he had never seen before but she looked beautiful regardless.