Roll of Luck: An Eddie Munson Fanfic

Chapter Twenty

Steve's party was a success, as far as parties could go. Even though parties still weren't my thing. I managed to stay the night there, still not ready to go home and face Eddie for two reasons. One, I stole his stash of weed right in front of him, and second I confessed that I wanted to be with him after all. Neither of those were something I wanted to face.

But, I knew I couldn't avoid Eddie forever. I took the long way home, driving not a mile over the speed limit down the winding roads, playing over every possible conversation in my head and coming up with every clever thing I was going to say to him. Too soon I was pulling into Forest Hills Trailer Park to a sight that I was not expecting to see.

There were police cars. Everywhere.

I hopped out of the car and tried to maneuver my way to the door, but I was stopped immediately. "Excuse me, are you Wyatt Stephens?"

"Yes?" I answered, confused. "What's going on?"

The officer pulled me over to the side and motioned for another officer to follow him. "We just have a few questions for you to answer if you don't mind."

"Why? What happened?"

"Well, we were hoping you could tell us the same thing." The other officer said. He motioned to the picnic table. "Please, have a seat."

I glanced across the way and saw Wayne talking to other officers, smoking a cigarette, clearly in distress. Where on earth was Eddie. Was Eddie okay?

"Can you tell us where you were after school yesterday?" They had their notepads out, paying attention to my every word. I knew I had to choose my statements carefully.

"Yesterday was the big championship game and my first day back at school since my brother died." I began honestly. "I stayed for the game with my friends Steve and Robin."

"Last names?" One of the officers asked. Jesus, they were making this an official statement.

"Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley." I added nervously. "Steve had a date with him but I don't remember her name. She was blonde." Why was I so nervous?

"What happened after the game?"

"And after the game?"

"I came back here. Steve was having an after party to celebrate the win. I came back to change clothes and get ready." I knew I couldn't tell them about the drugs. "Steve wanted me to grab some of my records to play."

"Who was here with you?"

Shit. Shit. Shit. "Chrissy. Chrissy Cunningham."

The two of them looked at each other. "What was Chrissy doing here?"

Once again, I couldn't tell them about the drugs, so I lied again, without missing a beat. "Chrissy sometimes pays me to do her homework for her. She was picking up a paper that she needed to turn in."

"On spring break?"

Fuck. "It's the written part of her senior project. She needs it to base her visuals off of. It has to be turned in the day we're back. It count's for a third of our final grade last semester." Not technically untrue.

I knew they might not buy that story, but I still didn't know why they were pressing me on all of this. "Why would Chrissy need to pay you to do her work? She's a smart girl."

"I don't know." I clammed up. "I don't ask questions of my customers." I motioned down at my growing stomach. "In case it isn't obvious, I need the money."

"How did you feel about Chrissy? You two were very different."

"That's an odd question. I don't have any issue with Chrissy. Chrissy is a nice girl, she is always very sweet to everyone." My face clearly had an expression of confusion. Why were they talking about Chrissy in the past tense?