18-YEAR-OLD SLOANE PETERSON KNOCKED ON THE DOOR TO THE MUNSON TRAILER, her other hand holding a folder of this week's Chemistry homework that Eddie had missed because he had gotten sick over the weekend. His being sick could have been a lie, but Sloane had requested to take it to him either way because she had other ideas in mind.

Underneath the folder was a sketch she had—a little cherub with tiny wings. Her birthday had just passed and she wanted to gift herself with a tattoo but her parents had said "no", so that meant she couldn't get it done professionally. But she was hard-headed and stubborn and that didn't stop her from finding other methods. The door swinging open snapped Sloane out of her thoughts, blinking when she saw Eddie standing at the entrance.

(Eddie, on the other hand, would have rather died than mention the fact that he was floored and partially stunned by Sloane standing on the steps of his trailer, her high ponytail swinging and donning a white, green, and gold Hawkins High cheerleading uniform with a green folder and a sketch of her idea in hand).

"Princess Peterson," Eddie commented as though he were stating a fact.

"Edward Munson," Sloane returned in the same tone, pulling in her bottom lip, remembering what she was here for. "Uh, oh! I brought the Chemistry homework you missed."

"How do you know where I live? Are you stalking me?"

"No," Sloane drew out the "o", hugging the folder to her chest, "the school office gave me your address because I volunteered to bring your homework to you. I am your lab partner, after all."

"Emphasis on lab," Eddie bit.

Sloane rolled her eyes and she huffed a sigh. Work with him. "I actually have a tattoo sketch I thought you could do for me. My mom and dad said no, which means that they're not gonna sign off the consent papers."

"I know how tattoos and consent work, Peterson." Eddie nodded, smiling. "Why me, though?"

"Because everyone else in town creeps me out. And you seem gentle enough."

"What, me being called a freak didn't break the deal for you?" Eddie bit back the urge to scoff.

"Believe it or not, I don't think you're a freak, Eddie. Despite it being such a hive mind, not everyone thinks the same, you know." After a minute of contemplation, Eddie stepped aside and let Sloane in. Eddie's hair had grown several inches from the buzzcut he had in middle school, having it tied back in a low bun to keep out of his face as he moved about the trailer, maneuvering through the little messes on the floor.

"Will it hurt?" Sloane asked and then realized it was a stupid question. Eddie took the question in stride and responded, "Only if you have a low pain tolerance."

He went to go find his little set out and had Sloane sit on the bed only to come back to find her unzipping the back of her top and pulling her hair up into a bun to give him more room to work with, exposing the nape of her neck and the back of her one shoulder. His mouth went dry at the sight, something angelic about her as the sun bled into the afternoon light.

"Ready when you are." Sloane let out a warm sigh, as if she could feel Eddie's eyes on her. That got him to move from the doorframe. The process had been intimate, from their fingers touching when Sloane handed over her sketch to Eddie tracing it out and tattooing it into her skin. His calloused fingers (from all that guitar playing) pressed into her to keep her still, his thumb circling to keep her from tensing up.

"I'm sorry, it tickles," Sloane returned sheepishly.

After an hour and a half, the tattoo was done. There were a few mishaps, but the outcome looked nice overall. Eddie placed a square of saran wrap and tape over the tattoo and carefully zipped Sloane's top back up, hacking out a cough because he caught himself staring again as Sloane fixed her ponytail. Her arms fell into her lap as she looked at Eddie, a small smile pulled back on her lips.

"Thank you," Sloane said as she stood at the entrance of the trailer. Eddie could only nod.

Before she left, she asked, "Do you need help with the Chemistry homework?"

Eddie waved a hand, nonchalantly dismissing her, "I'm sure I'll be able to figure it out."

"Okay."

And that was how it had gone on for the next several weeks.

Besides the glances and the small smiles and the little waves as they passed by in the hallways, Sloane would swing by Eddie's trailer just to hang out with him. Sometimes she'd bring her homework over to do it with him, making sure that their experiment notes were correct—Sloane's were correct, but it didn't hurt to double check. Eddie's uncle Wayne was pleasantly surprised to see Sloane there, but went about his business after she said hello to him.

"Do you wanna stay for dinner?" Eddie asked as Sloane packed up her stuff, "It's the canned soup special tonight."

"I'd love to, but I actually have a date with my boyfriend tonight. But I will think about it next time."

"Boyfriend?" Eddie asked, not in an accusatory manner, but in a more surprised one that she was standing here and not with him, as her boyfriend had his arm around Sloane almost constantly.

Sloane shrugged. "More or less. You know, I can't really tell if he wants to be with me because he likes me or he's with me because we're pretty much prom king and queen material."

"Dating and then breaking up after you get what you want," Eddie said, as if he understood.

Sloane nodded. "Right. Well, I better get going or Eric's going to blow my phone up." Without thinking, she pulled Eddie into a quick hug before running out to her car and into the night. Eddie watched her go, and wondered how a girl like her had waltzed so nonchalantly into his life.

A month later, Sloane showed up again, like clockwork. However, it was closer to 10 o'clock at night than her usual 4:30 appearance. Eddie would've been annoyed by the incessant buzzing of the doorbell, to say the least—scratch that, he was annoyed by the incessant buzzing but when he found Sloane at the door at that hour, hugging herself with bloodshot eyes and tears down her face, the annoyance ceased almost instantaneously.

"I know it's a lot to ask, but can I—" Sloane started, intaking a sharp breath, toying with her golden heart-shaped locket, "can I stay the night?"

"Did the boyfriend dump you?" Eddie asked, tugging her in by the sleeve of her Hawkins bomber jacket before closing the door behind him and looking at her.

Sloane let out a bitter laugh as she hugged herself tighter before answering. "I wish. But my parents got into a fight. A big one, too. And I just. . .I didn't wanna be there anymore. I mean, they should've divorced years ago but they're still going at each other's throats like they first got married and it's just so tiring." She was close to becoming a heap on the floor from exhaustion but Eddie caught her before she could hit the ground. Burrowing her nose into his shoulder, more tears formed in her eyes. "I'm so tired."

"I know, I know," Eddie murmured, reaching a hand to cup the back of her head. "Can. . .can I ask why you didn't go to your boyfriend to comfort you?"

"I wanted to see you." The answer was muffled between the fabric of Eddie's t-shirt, but he caught it, nonetheless. He let it pass, and continued on hugging Sloane until she was ready to pull away. "Now, how about that can of soup you promised?"

As processed as it was, Sloane had to admit that it was a good can of soup—Campbell's cream of mushroom. It sat at just the right temperature, warm enough to be edible and tasteful but neither coldly disgusting nor scaldingly painful.

"You wanna talk about it?" Eddie asked as Sloane slid her spoon around the bowl. She looked up at him, put the spoon down, and sighed, pulling her legs into her as she did so, wrapping her arms around them. "I guess I'd just rather let them implode than get in the middle. I'm not their marriage counselor. I don't need to burden myself with their problems."

"Good for you, Sloane," Eddie complimented.

Sloane sat up at the realization. "That's the first time you called me that."

"What? Sloane? It's your name, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but you always called me 'Peterson' or some prissy nickname. Never just. . .Sloane."

"Well, it's a nice name. Thought I should use it more often. And we're friends, so I figured. . .we are friends, right?"

Sloane nodded. "Yes, Eddie. We're friends."

After a moment of silence, Eddie asked, "You finished with this?", pointing to the red bowl that sat on the table. Sloane nodded and they both leaned in to grab for the bowl, brushing fingers. Sloane smiled sheepishly and pulled away, letting Eddie take the bowl to put in the sink. Then it was only a matter of time before the two discussed the sleeping arrangements.

"I can sleep on the couch," Sloane suggested, looking around the trailer to see what she could make do for blankets. Eddie shook his head. "You don't have to do that."

"Well, I can't take the bed. Where are you gonna sleep?"

"I'll sleep on the couch."

"You can't do that. We. . .we could share."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Okay, awesome."

"You should find shirts in the bedroom closet if, you know, you wanna borrow one."

"That'd be great, actually. Thanks." Sloane pulled in her bottom lip as she drew back a smile and went in search of a shirt. She set her jacket aside and sifted through the various black and band t-shirts Eddie had in his closet, ranging from Black Sabbath to Motorhead to Metallica. Sloane pulled one of the Metallica t-shirts off of its hanger, one that had Ride the Lightning as the album cover, and started to pull her own shirt over her head before sliding her jeans down her legs. She had just gotten her hair from underneath when Eddie came stumbling in, a hand over his eyes and blindly waving around a washcloth.

"If you wanted to wash your face and take your makeup off," Eddie started, still waving, and Sloane suppressed the urge to giggle at the sight, "I'd rather not have foundation on my pillow."

"Oh, I'm not wearing makeup," Sloane said, as though she were to be surprised at herself for not wearing any, even though she had cried it all off in the car on the way.

"What?" Eddie dropped his hand in questioning, and realizing what he did—but it was too late. He caught an eyeful of Sloane in his Metallica t-shirt, the hem grazing just the tops of her thighs. "Oh."

"It's not Fleetwood Mac, but I guess it'll do." Sloane pulled at the hem to examine the shirt, noticing a hole in the left shoulder. "Ready to hit the hay?"

Eddie couldn't help but laugh at the question. "Who even says 'hit the hay' anymore?"

"Go ahead and laugh." Sloane rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.

"Y'know what? It's cute. It's cute."

Sloane flopped back-first onto the bed, sighing out of relief to finally be off of her feet. Then she curled into herself, realizing how much space she was taking up. "Sorry. I'm used to having my own bed."

"S'fine." Eddie began to kneel on the bed to get in when Sloane sat up, stopping him. "What?" he asked.

"You're gonna wear pants to bed?" Sloane returned in question, raising an eyebrow. "You'll chafe."

"I didn't wanna freak you out."

"Believe me, I'm freaked out enough as it is. This is nothing."

"Okay." Eddie took it in stride, as he did everything else. Then he realized Sloane was staring. "Well?"

"What? Oh." Sloane was quick to cover her eyes, sheepishly giggling at the way she was behaving. It was childlike, bubbling and giddy, something bright and effervescent she hadn't felt in a long time. Could she say that she was pressing it down underneath the weight of her cool girl stature? Maybe. She didn't remember the last time Eric made her laugh like this. She and Eddie had only been friends for a couple of months and she didn't think she'd ever laughed harder. It was effortless. Easy. Part of her wanted to feel guilty that she was lying in bed with someone that wasn't her boyfriend, but she was at a crossroads with either being depressed in her own bed with her parents screaming beneath her or Eric's for other reasons.

Sloane felt the mattress squeak and she slowly moved her hands away from her eyes, feeling weirdly more shy now that she wasn't hiding. She caught herself staring at the glimpse of skin that had revealed itself when Eddie's shirt had ridden up as he slid into the bed, a hint of a tattoo underneath the hem. "How many tattoos do you have?" she found herself asking.

"Hm?" Eddie quirked a brow before registering her question, settling underneath the sheets and crossing his arms, "Oh, I have eight. Eleven if you count the little ones."

"Why wouldn't you count the little ones?"

"'Cause they're mostly mishaps or ones I did myself." Eddie shrugged, "some of them are actually both."

Sloane nodded, taking a look around the room, observing the various objects and decorations, the most interesting thing being the electric guitar that hung off of Eddie's mirror, the centerpiece of it all, a god and its shrine. "You play?" she asked, getting up to get a better look at the instrument. It was oddly delicate, all sharp edges but still relatively small-looking, something of a contradicting nature, an oxymoron of sorts. Something like Sloane and Eddie. The freak and the cheerleader. Not really two things people would put together, especially in a place like Hawkins High where the social status thrived off the age-old hierarchy.

Sloane sat somewhere at the top with the popular crowd, the jocks, cheerleaders, and preppy rich kids. Eddie was on a rung at the bottom, socially a pariah with little fucks left to give.

"No, it's just there for decoration." Eddie snorted and Sloane rolled her eyes, smiling however. "But yeah, I play. I'm in a band, actually."

"I bet you get a lot of girls with this thing, huh?" Sloane was careful in touching the strings, softly plucking and staring in wonderment before turning to face Eddie.

Eddie got off the mattress to stand next to Sloane, taking his guitar off of the mirror. "No, just you."

"I'm a girl. It still counts, right?"

"I guess so. You wanna try playing it?"

And yet here the two were, in bed, meshing in the middle and both lacking pants. No one would've believed them, even if Sloane had admitted that it was her idea. They all would've thought she lost her mind. But Sloane nodded and they headed back over to the bed with Eddie sliding the strap over her and letting the weight of the guitar fall into her lap.

"I only know how to play one song and it's by Fleetwood Mac so bear with me," Sloane warned. Eddie didn't want to bite.

     Eddie bit, anyway. "It's not Dreams, is it?"

Hesitation. Surprised, Sloane answered, "No, actually." Then, squinting, she asked, "You know Fleetwood Mac?"

"It's all the strip mall would play that one time. I figured they would have had a bigger variety, but nope."

"Do you still want me to play it?" Sloane asked sheepishly, getting a feel for the guitar strings beneath her fingers. Eddie sighed with no cruel intention. "Sure. Why not?"

"Okay. Uh." With that, Sloane started a slower version of Landslide, singing lowly so she wouldn't lose track of the rhythm. The song meant a lot to her, even more so now that she related it to her current relationship with Eric—molding herself to be the perfect girlfriend by his side, building herself to revolve around him and having to push down any bit of personality she had of her own down. "Well, I've been afraid of changing, 'cause I built my life around you. But time makes you bolder, even children get older. And I'm getting older, too." She played on a little longer, dabbling with the strings before the music eventually faded out. It was only a matter of time before Sloane was seeing a hand wave in front of her.

"Earth to Sloane." Eddie waved a hand in front of her face, snapping her out of her thoughts.

"What?" Sloane blinked, shaking her head before turning to face Eddie. "Sorry, I zoned out. I was. . .thinking."

"If you're starting to think that this is a bad idea, I totally understand and I can sleep on the couch—"

"No!" Sloane blurted, surprising both herself and Eddie, "It's fine. I'm fine, It was something else, that's all."

"What were you thinking about?"

Sloane shook her head. "It's stupid."

Eddie nudged her arm, egging her on. "C'mon, tell me."

Sloane hugged the electric guitar, sighing. "I was thinking about how weird people would feel if they were to find out that we're friends. And it's really stupid that people would put so much thought into something like that, who got to hang out with who. I dunno, it was just a very strange observation. I don't see anything wrong with it, I'm glad we're friends."

"You don't have to convince your—" Eddie started, but Sloane cut him off, her voice soft, yet stern. "I'm serious, Eds. I'm glad we're friends."

"Me too."

Sloane smiled. "Good. Now, please don't be a blanket hog. I get cold easily."

Eddie did a show of bowing, getting a giggle out of Sloane as he went to put his guitar back before sliding into bed. "As you wish, Your Highness."

The night may have been a blur, but the next morning was as sharp as a knife.

Sloane found herself practically cocooned by Eddie, one of his hands over hers, fingers almost intertwined, the other resting on her hip, his pinky having slipped beneath the shirt and resting on the skin there. She shifted a bit, hips wiggling to get herself in a more comfortable position, not very aware of what she was doing. Eddie's grip tightened, getting her to stop, as he grumbled, "Keep moving like that and it's not gonna end well for me."

Oh, hello, morning voice—and. . .wood, but that wasn't currently on Sloane's mind at the moment. If Eddie sounded like that 24/7, she wouldn't have stood a chance. But curious as she was, she shifted her hips again and Eddie's vice grip only tightened.

"Thin fucking ice, princess," Eddie griped, the sardonic pet name coming off as more of a warning. Okay, so maybe now she was aware of what she was doing. Had she moved her ass a little more to the left, she'd be able to feel him right up against her. And that was the thought that had her shooting out of bed as though someone dumped a bucket of ice water on her. Sloane went to search for her clothes, slowly losing her mind at what she had just done. After she changed, she and Eddie stood near the trailer exit, door open, Sloane ready to go.

"So, I'll see you around?" Eddie asked, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. Sloane let out a wistful sigh. "I'll see you around, Eddie."

The two saw each other in the halls every now and then, passing notes during Chemistry before Sloane graduated and went off to Purdue while Eddie was stuck in Hawkins another year. The two had slowly lost touch over the course of those months, slowly moving back to their own circles.

Until one fateful night.

AUTHOR'S STICKY NOTE. <3
after days of writing this on and off, i can finally say that it's finished ! bordering on 4,000 words technically does not make this a prologue but i will count it as a prologue for prologue's sake 🫶

this was more or less snapshots of their friendship than an actual cohesive prologue but i guess it still counts ? anyhoo, i hope you enjoyed !