Chapter Three
Forest Hills

Betty had stood outside Eddie's trailer on numerous occasions, but something felt different this time.

It had taken over an hour to choose an outfit. Betty intended to keep it casual, but she also wanted to leave a little something to desire...

For, you know, revenge purposes.

Obviously.

She settled on a pink polo shirt, which was tucked neatly into her denim skirt. Admittedly, said skirt was getting a little tight, but she didn't see any harm in that. 

The Munson home was surrounded by lean, spiny pine trees. It was embarrassing to admit, but Betty had been jump scared more than once by the strange, contorted shadows cast from the spiky twigs.

Forest Hills was always a little chillier than the rest of Hawkins. Betty crossed her arms, rubbing small circles against the goosebumps roughening her skin.

She stared ahead at Eddie's front door, rocking on the balls of her feet. Pull yourself together.

Betty drew in a breath, stepped forwards and rapped her knuckles three times against the door.

She swallowed heavily. Eddie's home seemed so intimidating now; so far away and unknown.

When they were kids, Betty eventually surpassed the politeness to knock and would waltz inside. And last summer...well, she was mostly sneaking through Eddie's window, so.

Eddie took a while to answer this time. Betty wondered if he'd forgotten. Perhaps he'd gone out. Or maybe he was ignoring her? Had he even been serious about the deal?

Eddie was, in fact, sprawled across his bed smoking a cigarette when he heard the familiar rumble of Betty's car.

Bright headlights flooded through his window, casting him straight back to last summer; how his pulse would quicken upon the sight, anticipation building a tight knot in his stomach at the thought of seeing her again. Eddie would try and deny it, but nothing had changed since.

He glanced down at his black Iron Maiden t-shirt. No stains. He raised his arms, sniffing under his pits. No smell.

Eddie placed the cigarette between his teeth, got to his feet and hung the electric guitar back in her rightful position against the wall. Before leaving the room, he snatched a bottle of cologne from the side table and spritzed.

Eddie swiped his tin drug box and headed for the front door. Halfway down the hall, he doubled back to the bathroom, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He fussed with his untamed hair, attempting to push back some loose strands that weren't complying. That'd have to do.

The moment Eddie entered the main room, he caught sight of Betty through the partially open blinds. She was stood on the top step, looking all kinds of beautiful and–

Wait.

Eddie stubbed out his cigarette and tried again.

Betty was stood on the top step, arms huddled tightly around her body. She was wearing a baby pink shirt (his favourite colour on her) and a short skirt that he secretly hoped was chosen on purpose because god, she knew him so well. Too well.

Her hair was in tight curls, the shorter cut framing her oval face shape and drawing attention to her perfect lips–

Stop.

Eddie shook his head. He set the box on the counter and headed for the door.

It swung open. Betty's eyes trailed over him. On first look – messy hair, crumpled Iron Maiden t-shirt and black ripped jeans – she wondered if he had forgotten about her arrival. But then he leaned a hand against the doorframe, ring clad fingers on full display, and purposely glanced her up and down with a lopsided smile.

"Angel."

"Munson."

Eddie stepped aside, gesturing his arm for Betty to enter. She moved through the threshold, instantly greeted with the stench of stale cigarette smoke.

Their shoulders accidentally brushed as she passed him. Betty caught a strong whiff of Eddie's stupid cheap cologne. Considering his usual track record, it didn't actually smell that bad; kind of musky and outdoorsy. It suited him. In fact, she almost liked it.

Eddie shut the door behind them. Betty observed her surroundings to distract herself from the anxious knot twisting in her stomach.

The Munson trailer looked almost exactly the same as her last visit, as if no time had passed at all. Rings of beer bottle marks stained the wooden coffee table, the contrasting coloured sofa cushions were strewn out of place, discarded mugs had been littered around the kitchen, dirty dishes piled up around the sink. Most unsurprisingly, there was an ashtray on the countertop with a cigarette still smoking. And resting beside it? The infamous black box.

"So..." Eddie went to lean an arm against the counter, but his elbow slipped from the edge. Fuck. "Same as usual?"

Betty's attention had been drawn to the photos on the wall. There was one she hadn't seen before – it was of a young woman. She wore a silk purple dress and a red cone shaped party hat. In front of her, there was a chocolate birthday cake with a dozen lit candles. She was grinning. Her long hair was dark, curly and wild – almost, but not quite, as unruly as Eddie's. She had the same strong nose, though. And those perfectly crafted cupid bow lips.

Eddie followed her line of sight. His uncle had discovered the picture whilst sorting through old boxes. He said it had been taken around a decade before Eddie's mother passed. Sometimes, he found it odd to see such an unfamiliar woman on the wall. Being so young when she died, Eddie hardly remembered anything about her. It was almost like having a photograph of a stranger.

Betty took a step closer, smiling softly. The camera flash had captured the unmistakable Munson glint in his mother's eyes. It was unbelievably reminiscent of the mischievous twinkle she'd seen in Eddie's.

He cleared his throat. Betty turned her head. "Oh, sorry. Um..."

"You want your usual?" Eddie repeated, flicking open the box lid.

"More like double, actually."

Eddie looked back at her, eyebrows raised. "Double?"

"Oh, it's not just for me," Betty clarified. "Cheer squad's getting together after the game tomorrow night."

"That..." he trailed, rifling through his drugs. "Sounds horrible."

She scoffed. "Yeah, well, you would say that."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Betty shook her head. "Nothing."

Eddie pulled out two clear plastic bags of marijuana and dropped them on the counter. "All right. I can do you a quarter for, like, forty bucks."

Betty's nose scrunched. "Forty?"

"I'm cutting you a good deal, Angel."

"Oh come on," Betty challenged. "We both know you can do better than that."

Eddie shrugged. "Times are hard, sweetheart." He gestured to his surroundings. "It's not like you can't afford it, right? I assume daddy's paying for this."

Their eyes locked. Betty's lips pursed as she shook her head. "You're a real asshole, you know that right?"

"You've made it pretty clear."

Betty huffed. "Whatever." She slid a hand into her skirt pocket, pulled out two crumpled twenty dollar bills and smacked them into his outstretched palm. "There."

Eddie folded the notes, holding them in between his index and middle finger. "Pleasure doing business with you."

He snatched both weed bags and tossed them towards her. Betty managed to catch one, but the other skidded across the floor. She bent down to retrieve it. Her golden B initial necklace swung out from underneath her shirt and bumped the bridge of her nose.

Eddie couldn't help noticing how the top two buttons of her polo shirt were undone. As she bent forwards, the gap gave him a glimpse at her white lace bra.

Yeah, yeah, he probably should've looked away. Whatever.

Betty straightened up, tucking several strands of fallen hair behind her ear. Her cherry red acrylic nails caught his attention. Eyes transfixed, Eddie's mind started to wander. He remembered the feeling of those nails against his bare skin, tracing the tattoos on his chest, digging into his shoulders–

"Well," Betty stated. Eddie's stare quickly directed back to her face. He forced the thoughts to a different corner of his mind. "That's all I came for. Gotta pick my dad up so–"

A key twisted in the door.

Betty and Eddie exchanged wide eyed looks.

The handle rattled.

Eddie scrambled for the box. Betty shoved the drugs in her pocket. The door cracked open. Eddie slammed the lid shut, spun back around, and leaned casually against the counter.

Wayne Munson's heavy work boots thudded against the floor.

"Hi." Eddie greeted with a two-finger wave.

Wayne nodded in response. "Alright."

The older man's attention hovered over the tin box. Eddie knew Wayne was aware of his slightly uncouth means of income. More so in an – I know about it, you know I know about it, but neither of us are going to address it – way, which seemed to work for both of them.

Their silent agreement meant that Eddie could pay for more things himself, like petrol to keep his van running, or contribute to other necessities. Wayne would never ask, but Eddie wanted to help out where he could. He knew his uncle was working himself to the bone at his job, taking extra shifts, doing late nights. It was the least Eddie could do.

Wayne stepped further into the room. He'd grown his beard out, Betty noticed. But otherwise, nothing much had changed; same tattered plaid shirt, same balding hair, same disgruntled expression. There were perhaps a few more wrinkles on her face and he could probably do with a good wash, but Betty was trying not to be too judgemental since he'd just got home from work.

When Wayne's tired eyes landed on her, he almost did a double take.

Betty smiled. "Hi."

"Betty." He stared straight at her, as if his eyes were deceiving him. Then he side-glanced Eddie. "This is a surprise."

So, yeah, there was absolutely no way that Wayne didn't know about the two of them. They might have successfully used their "we're working on the summer project" excuse to Betty's unsuspecting parents last year, but considering the majority of their rendezvous after that took place at Eddie's trailer – combined with the fact Wayne Munson was generally a suspicious man by nature and also not fucking blind – it was kind of a given.

And judging by the way he was watching them, there was absolutely no doubt about it in Betty's mind; Wayne Munson knew she'd been screwing his nephew.

"I was just..." Betty trailed off, drawing a blank on excuses. Shit.

Eddie threw an alarmed look at her. Betty was possibly the worst liar in human history.

"Just...dropping off some homework," Eddie finished.

Wayne's eyes narrowed even further. Yeah, Eddie probably could've done better there too.

"That's kind of you," Wayne remarked.

Betty smiled sweetly, hoping it would hide the fact that she wanted to fucking die.

"Well, that's Betty." A sarcastic smile loitered on Eddie's lips. "Kind is her middle name."

Betty met his eyes and tried to convey her harshest "fuck you, Munson." But she knew that his uncle was still watching, so forced the corners of her mouth upwards.

"Well," Wayne interrupted their staring contest. "I'll leave you both to it."

Eddie smiled falsely. "Thanks."

"It was nice to see you," Betty said genuinely.

What happened next, Eddie could not quite believe. Wayne offered her a hint of a smile. Eddie felt utterly betrayed. He knew his uncle liked Betty, but to be one of the few people he ever willingly smiled at?

"And you, Betty."

Eddie drummed his fingers loudly against the counter, watching as his uncle headed down the hall. Traitor.

Betty waited until Wayne was completely out of sight before she turned to Eddie and glowered at him.

"What?" He asked innocently.

She simply huffed, shaking her head. "I'm leaving."

"Okay," Eddie replied. "Good."

He wished he could've meant that.

Betty remained stood. She wasn't entirely sure why. His response had stung, but had she expected anything else?

"Something else you want to say?" Eddie provoked, crossing his arms.

"No." Still not moving, Betty stared down at her brown ankle boots. Had she lost the ability to use her legs? "I mean." She cleared her throat to buy herself some time. "I guess I should say thank you, or whatever."

"You're welcome," Eddie paused, his playful eyes meeting hers. "Or whatever."

Yeah, Betty needed to leave immediately.

She successfully managed to set one foot in front of the other and started towards the door. Eddie moved with her, taking longer strides to reach it first. He leaned an arm past her head and pushed it open.

The doorway space was fairly cramped, just about squeezing the pair in. Betty looked across at him. His face was only a short distance away, close enough to taste the cigarettes on his breath. She'd missed that.

Her pulse quickened. Betty became acutely aware of her own breathing. The room felt hot. Stifling, even. She tugged at her shirt collar. Eddie's eyes searched hers. Betty wasn't entirely sure she was breathing. She craved air.

"I'll uh..." she spoke quietly. "I'll see you around."

"Yeah."

Betty took a step over the threshold. A very small, and highly over-imaginative, part of her brain just wanted him to grab her arm, pull her back in and pin her up against the wall.

Admittedly, Eddie had considered smashing his lips to hers too, but thought better of it. If his uncle hadn't come home early, he might have really been tempted. But instead he watched her leave.

Betty slowed as she reached the last step. Her limbs hesitated, whole body itching with the intent to turn back around.

Then she heard her name slip from his mouth.

"Betty."

Her fingers clutched around the railing. It was the first time he'd called Betty by her first name in months.

A hopeful chord struck inside her, threatened to crawl up her throat and give her away when she spoke. Betty had to bury it. She forced a tone of disinterest in her voice. "Yeah?"

"I–" Eddie hesitated. No, he couldn't. Could he? Betty stared up at him through her long eyelashes. It took everything in him not to cave. "Did we, um...did we have any homework for Mrs O'Donnell?"

Betty's heart plummeted. Exploded. Dropped out of her ass. Then she realised that was her reaction and her stomach flipped upside down all over again. Betty's palms felt sweaty. The back of her neck prickled. She released her grip on the railing, arm lowering back to her side.

Betty should not have felt so disappointed. "No, I don't think so."

Eddie nodded, shoulder leaning against the doorway. "Thanks."

One last longing look passed between them before Betty turned around and left.

He watched after her.

But she didn't look back.

Eddie felt a heaviness settle in his chest. Almost a...disappointment? No. Definitely not. Must have been something else – indigestion maybe.

Once Betty had reached the safety of her white Toyota, she allowed herself to release the breath she'd been holding. Hands shaking, she fumbled in her pockets for the keys and unlocked the car. Betty slid into the drivers side and closed the door behind her. She rested her hands on the wheel and squeezed her eyes shut. Fuck.

Betty inhaled sharply, glancing up into the rear-view mirror. She sighed as she caught sight of her appearance. Betty brushed her fingers through her hair to smooth down the strays. She leaned closer and puckered her lips, wiping a small smudge of gloss from the corner. Betty hoped she hadn't looked like that the entire time. Not that she cared about what Eddie thought...Okay, maybe a little.

She glimpsed at her watch, sat back in her chair, put the clutch down and turned the key in the ignition. The vehicle vibrated, then spluttered and stilled. Betty frowned, twisting the key once more. It happened again. And again. And again–

"Shit," she cursed. "Shit, shit, mother-fucking shit!" Betty flung open the door and stomped round to the smoking bonnet. "Son of a damn bitch."

Eddie had disappeared back inside his trailer, attempting to ignore the longing ache in his chest. His uncle was stood in the kitchen, leant over the mini fridge. Upon hearing his nephew's approaching footsteps, Wayne raised his head. He was clutching the necks of two beer bottles in his hand.

Wayne held them up, letting the fridge door swing shut. "Want one?"

"Sure."

Wayne reached for the bottle opener and unscrewed the caps. "Haven't seen Betty around here in a while."

Eddie took a beer from his uncle's outstretched hand. "We don't have that English project anymore."

Wayne's scrutinising stare was sceptical. Eddie attempted to keep his expression as neutral as possible. "Right."

Eddie searched for an excuse to drop the conversation. He was fairly certain his uncle knew that something had happened between them, but he really didn't want to have that conversation. Fortunately, three heavy knocks against the door interrupted them.

Eddie set the bottle on the counter. His first thought was automatically Betty – she always knocked three times. Eddie hadn't been expecting any other visitors and his uncle rarely had people round. It made the most logical sense that Betty would be standing on the other side. And come to think of it, Eddie hadn't heard her car engine pulling away.

His heart raced.

It had to be her.

Eddie slowed as he reached the door, pausing for a moment to regain some control, not wanting to seem too eager. He counted five seconds in his head, then twisted the handle.

It was Betty.

She had her eyes averted to the ground, kicking a mound of dirt with the toe of her boots.

Eddie rested his arm against the wall. "Forget something, Angel?"

Betty glanced up. Noticing the sly smile resting on his lips, she suppressed a sigh. She could not believe this was happening to her. Whatever stupid intervention this was from the universe, it was a sick and twisted one.

"My car broke down."

"What?"

"My fucking car broke down," Betty repeated. "Is that clear enough for you or is the mass of hair melting your brain?"

"Okay," Eddie said, brows furrowing. What was wrong with his hair? "And this is my problem how exactly?"

"It's in your driveway."

"Technically not a driveway," Eddie pointed out. "More like a patch of grass."

Betty closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath before she did anything too extreme, like kick over a plant pot or commit murder. Come to think of it, there were no plant pots around. Which only left murder.

"Look," she began sternly. Betty didn't want to ask. In fact, she would probably rather choke to death on her own tongue. But she had no choice. "Is there anything you can do to help?"

Eddie looked far too smug. "Well, well, well, Betty Angel wants my help."

She'd dreaded this. He was enjoying it way too much. And god, she couldn't stand him. Betty wouldn't have even bothered asking had she not needed to pick up her dad.

"Seriously, Eddie," she snipped. "I don't have time for your–"

"It's doubtful," Eddie replied to the earlier question. "And even if I could help," He shrugged. "I don't want to."

Betty ran a hand over her face. Fucking asshole. Piece of shit. Dumb idiot. What the hell was she supposed to do now?

"Okay, look, it's just–" Fuck's sake. She was going to have to beg, wasn't she. That was what he wanted. "I wouldn't usually plead my case with you, but I have to pick up my dad and–"

"And what exactly do you expect me to do about that?"

"No, I know," Betty huffed in frustration. Eddie's eyebrows raised. "It's just..."

Betty's eyes lowered. She nudged a jagged grey stone with her shoe. There was no other option. She would have to come out and say it.

"It's..." Betty hesitated. "It's the hospital that I have to pick him up from."

There was a moment of silence.

"The hospital?"

"Yes."

Eddie's expression softened. He studied her for a moment. Hospital? Eddie had about twenty different questions at the forefront of his mind, but he pushed them all away.

Realising he didn't have much of a choice, Eddie sighed over-dramatically. "Alright then. Let me take a look at it."

Betty looked up at him. "Really?"

"Yeah. C'mon." Eddie began to trudge down the steps. She led him around the corner. A trail of grey smoke billowed out from underneath the car's hood. He grimaced. "Yeah, no, that's not good."

"I figured."

Eddie observed the Toyota. It definitely wouldn't be a quick fix, that was for sure. But if he had some time, then he might be able to do something about it.

"Uh, when do you need to be at the hospital?"

"About..." Betty turned her wrist, checking her watch. "Three minutes ago." 

Eddie glanced up at the clouded sky. His first instinct was to offer to drive her there. He shouldn't. He really shouldn't. Prolonged time with Betty in a small space? Bad idea. But she seemed so desperate, so hopeless. And those sad brown eyes were absolutely ruining him.

"All right," Eddie gave in. He was going to regret this. "I'll take you."

Betty blinked. "You'll take me?"

"Yeah, yeah." Eddie motioned his head towards the van. "Let's go. Before I change my mind."

Betty disguised a small smile.

Yeah, he was definitely going to regret this.

A/N

happy one month since eddie's death!!!!