History Must Repeat Itself

Chapter 3

October 1984

        I was relieved my life fell into a comfortable and easy routine. After a brief conversation with the manager, who I left a really good impression on, I got the bookstore job. I got to stand around, organizing and reading as many books as I wanted. It was peaceful and smelled significantly better than the arcade. The lighting was better too. I felt right at home, surrounded by thousands of pages.

And for the first time that I could remember, I had friends who made me sad to think about leaving Hawkins.

Robin Buckley visited the bookstore often, when she wasn't working at her own job. When the store was absolutely empty, we'd grab sheet music and create impromptu drums, and have contests of who could sight read faster. Robin and I got way too competitive, money quickly being put on the line. At school, most of my lunches were spent with her and the other artsy high schoolers. They were a group who mostly got left alone by the assholes, but when the popular kids would attempt to bully them, they usually embarrassed themselves. Robin was hilarious, so quirky and never stopped talking. It gave me a moment to relax during my day. She was easily my best friend at Hawkins high.

          My other bestfriend was Eddie Munson, the long haired boy with the locker next to Mr. Murphy's classroom. Though it was a friendship where I may of had a small crush on him that I wouldn't be admitting to any time soon. Eddie surprised me at work one day. I'd mentioned I worked at Books Stop while waiting at Eddie's locker one morning, but I didn't think Eddie was paying attention. He was always people watching. I was proven wrong when Eddie walked in with a salad from the restaurant next door. My cheeks flared pink when he approached the counter, putting down the paper bag with a grin on his face.

"Hey sweetheart. Figured you'd be hungry on this quiet Sunday afternoon."

My heart melted a little at the chocolate brown eyes and dimples in front of me. That day too, Eddie learned something about me that he didn't expect. Filling my mouth with lettuce, I glanced at Eddie, flipping through a Dungeons and Dragons rule book. He already owned it but, 'you never know'.

"Where do you get that weed from?" I asked between chews.

Eddie's eyes shot up to me, hand frozen mid-flip. I continued to munch as Eddie shut the thick book. Fear sparkled in his eyes. He pointed at me, opening his mouth then shutting it again. I smirked as Eddie processed my question. A giggle slipped between my lips at the discomfort on his face.

"The answer to your question is no, I'm not grossed out and yes, I smoke weed," I said, hand in front of my mouth, "it's been awhile, but whatever you've got smells really good."

A smile broke across Eddie's face before he laughed out of relief. His reaction made me laugh too.

After that day, my adoration for Eddie Munson blossomed. We had very similar musical tastes, which surprised him. I needed to remind him I'd spent the last two years in Seattle. It was a musical hub, especially punk music..

The few times I needed to destress at night due to the frustration of being thrust into the adult role of the house, I called Eddie. Usually he'd pick me up and we drove to one of the local parks. We didn't always smoke weed. Sometimes we laid around, staring at the stars and talked. Or we'd listen to music in my bedroom. I'd gone to the trailer Eddie lived with his uncle, but we were usually at my house since I was on babysitting duty. 

People harrassed Eddie daily and I wanted to kick every single one of them in the shin. It made me so angry because he was an absolute miracle.

          Tonight was a late night with Eddie. I was up late studying, and though he tried his best to get me out, Eddie agreed to sit on my bedroom floor. He distracted me fairly easily. Studying abandoned, he insisted on stories about each item he found. Eventually it fell into our regular conversations about our lives. Under my open bedroom window, I fell asleep across Eddie's lap.