[ She'd been prepared for Steve to open the door wearing one of his many polo shirts, or maybe a sweater or something. The henley is both less fancy than she expected and extremely more distracting than she anticipated, because it hugs his shoulders and his biceps like it was made for him bespoke, the green fabric bringing out the gold of his eyes in a way that makes her feel far more flustered than she wants to admit to, and Eddie only realizes Steve asked her a question after the silence that follows him speaking starts to become awkward.
Jesus Christ. ]
Uh, yeah. [ She blinks, resists the urge to rub at her eyes because she's wearing eyeliner and if she fucks up her makeup now she's going to scream, visibly resetting herself before she brings up a crooked grin. ] See if I dress up for you ever again. Just for that, next time I'm going to wear my most obscure underground indie metal band shirt and then act offended that you don't know who they are.
[ Next time. Like she's planning on tonight going well. Which she is, by the way. She's decided it's going to be a success and she's going to approach it that way. If she lets herself be too nervous things are going to fall to pieces. She lifts her hand and waggles the shopping bag dangling from her fingers, the plastic distended by the sharp corners of the books on tape cases stuffed inside. ]
[Oh come on, it's just a henley. Like, they're not quite to the summer yet, and it's a bit chilly, and he wants something more than a polo shirt, and he knows he looks into these and... Okay, so maybe he's trying a bit. And Eddie seems uncomfortable with it. Makes him almost want to offer to go change, but Eddie's rolling back into action.]
Oh come on, I'd recognize a Corroded Coffin shirt at this point. Dustin talks about you guys so much.
[What other obscure underground indie metal band could she be referencing?]
Present? Oh. The books on tape.
[That. The reminder. His expression falls for a moment. And the near instant replacement with an empty smile that looks almost perfectly genuine, one he's practiced from spending time at his parents' parties, slides into place.]
Come in. I'll put those in the living room near the stereo.
[ It's a Henley, and Steve is becoming a man, and Steve's chest looks incredible. Eddie feels a sudden kinship with Max and her binoculars, a story she had found hilarious when she heard it the first time, but also 100% completely relatable. Honestly, if this wasn't a date, she would probably be heckling him for it, calling him a pretty boy and asking who he was showing off for. Now that she's pretty sure he's showing off for her, she doesn't know what to do.
Except try her best to keep this as normal as possible. ] I'll get you wearing our merch if it's the last thing I do, [ she promises with a little grin, doing her best not to think about how Steve would look wearing a T-shirt with her bands name emblazoned across the chest.
Steve is good at social stuff, but Eddie spent her entire life being the underdog, watching for the mood to shift in the room, because all it took was a split second before a joke could become dangerous. She sees the way Steve's face slackens with disappointment, and it makes something in her chest hurt. She wants to figure it out, to see if she can't understand why he's feeling that way and what she can do to make him feel better, but she's got a pretty good idea.
Wayne always says you can lead a horse to water but you can't make him drink. This is one of those instances. As much as she wants to force the issue, she knows she can't. She hast to let Steve do this in his own time. ]
I've got something else for you too, but that's gonna have to wait until after dinner.
[Hey, heās already a man thank you very much. Thereās no need to have ābecomingā here. Heās the damn adult of the monster hunting Party. Or he was, until Joyce and Hopper came back (one from the dead).]
Why do I feel like the next time I stop by your place youāre going to find an excuse to spill something on my shirt just to make sure you live up to that threat?
[He raises an eyebrow at the implication of dessert.]
So I shouldnāt have splurged and got an ice cream cake?
[ He's barely hit twenty, he's a baby. (Says the girl who's barely over twenty.) But she'll allow that most of the time, he's the adult in the room. If that room is solely populated by freshmen who are smarter than they have any right to be and think that they're invincible because of it. ]
Don't kid yourself, Stevie, if I spill something on you, it won't be in an effort to get you to get dressed.
[ Maybe she shouldn't objectify him so blatantly since he's got such a chip on his shoulder about the way he's been treated in the past, but she'd probably have made that joke anyway even if this wasn't a date, and if he's going to try to date her, he's got to know what he's getting himself into. ]
Oh, no. We're definitely going to need that, too. In fact, it might help.
[Okay, did she really just make that insinuation?]
Really, Eddie? Just out to compare scars? We both know yours are more numerous and cool, so itās fine. We donāt need to measure them.
[With the implication thereās more in the bag than the tapes he decides not to go and carry them off and instead guides Eddie to the kitchen. Which is very much set up like the pages of some high end magazineās idea of a kitchen, but clearly also really used to getting, well, used. Thereās an island clearly set up with plates and silverware (not the real silver of course), and the place smells amazing from the dinner heās just about to finish.]
I canāt imagine what weād need beyond ice cream cake. Best vehicle for ice cream there is.
[Which he only feels because heās so damn done with ice cream out of tubs. One summer of work had been enough. Not even a full summer. Enough of a summer and enough trauma to make it awkward.]
[ What the fuck, Steve. That's not what she meant at all, and he has to know it.
He has to, right? Right?
She harrumphs at him as he turns to lead the way deeper into the house, deciding not to dig her grave any deeper. She does toe off her boots at the door, though, because Steve's house looks like a movie set, and she's a little terrified of dirtying it up.
The relief she feels when she discovers he set up their plates at the island and not in the dining room is enough to make her sight softly, some of her nerves leaking away.
This may be a date, but it's not a fancy date. Thank Christ. ]
I will still never forgive myself for not seeing you in your Scoops uniform. I can't believe I blew it like that. Those sailor suits were so cute.
[ And she's heard tales of what they did to Steve's ass and thighs, which admittedly interests her a lot more than how adorable he and Robin looked when they were dressed the same like toddler twins. ]
Damn, that smells good. [ She wanders past the island to peer at what's on the stove, keeping her hands conspicuously to herself until she gets the lay of the land. She doesn't want to poke her finger into something still bubbling, after all, she needs those fingertips intact. ] You're gonna spoil me, dude.
[Does he have to, though? Does he? Be prepared for Steve just assuming Eddie might find him hot but she wouldn't try and seduce him.
As for level of fanciness... Well, the dining room was large enough for a dining party of ten, and Steve hates using it. It's so big, it's so formal. He hates the way his house feels like it belongs in a home magazine. Which is fair for it feeling that way, seeing as his mother has people sent every other year or so to completely renovate, do new furniture, things like that. He does what he can, these days, to avoid those fake feeling spaces.
The kitchen, at least, has become a bit of a haven for him. Which was why he'd chosen this arrangement.]
We burned them, after. It was because of the blood and the memories and other things.
[So yeah, he'd never see Steve in one beyond a picture Robin took without his knowledge and still hadn't revealed to him.
For now he takes some hot hands, lifts the full pot of pasta and vegetables and cheese and pours it into a large serving bowl. THis gets carried to the island before he goes to grab warm rolls out of the oven.]
It's not really spoiling. This is a quick cook. If I make you lasagna, then you know it's spoiling. That takes a lot more prep time. Feel free to sit down. What would you like to drink? I've got water, coke brand sodas, milk, and some juices.
[ Looks like she's going to have to seduce him enough times until he gets the idea. What a hardship.
Steve's kitchen is bigger than the trailer's living room. If she was feeling especially hyperbolic she might even say it's bigger than her trailer entirely, but that's not really true. The living room and dining room, on the other hand... ]
That is a real fucking tragedy, man. I mean, not the exorcising your demons and finding closure after a traumatic experience, that's great, but the fact that the stupid outfits don't exist any more. [ She sighs dramatically, trying to make him crack a smile. ] I'll just have to use my imagination.
[ She lingers over Steve's shoulder as he pours the food into a serving bowl — why not just serve from the pot, he's just dirtying another dish for no reason — and inhales as a cloud of steam billows up around them as the food settles. ] Shut up, I'm enjoying being spoiled. If you make me lasagna, that's basically a proposal. And I'll just have water, I'll get it. You're busy. What do you want? [ Eddie trusts herself enough to open cupboards to find the glasses, Steve can focus on their meal first. ]
I hear you have a super vivid one, from the way the brats talk about you.
[Whether thatās a good thing or not is another question. They all seem to talk in a language that Steveās never understood, and isnāt likely to. The amount of handholding the others had to do in that one game of D&D Erika had run for them had been impressive.]
No, if I made you lasagna using my nonnaās recipe, that would be a proposal. Just any old lasagna wouldnāt be. Especially if it was a white lasagna. Thatās not nearly as sacred.
[He does gesture toward a cabinet for water glasses. Which will of course be heavily dominated by wine glasses on a higher shelf, but you live and do what you can.]
Just water for now. I donāt think soda goes with primavera. Sure it goes with pizza, but the tomato sauce is what brings that together.
[ It's definitely a good thing for her, but maybe he'll disagree. She'll just imagine said uniform a lot tighter and shorter in the leg than it probably was, since nobody can see her thoughts to tell her different. ]
I suppose you could say that.
[ Desperately curious about Steve's nonna — is he Italian?? she had no idea — she nevertheless forces herself to tackle the less personal part of that question first, in case it makes Steve uncomfortable. He brought it up, sure, but he's been so prickly lately, she's not sure what is and isn't crossing a boundary. ] What the fuck is a white lasagna.
[ She avoids the wine glasses because they kind of freak her out, so many identical glasses all lined up in neat rows, and fills two regular glasses with water which she brings out and sets down on the island. ]
Sure, [ she agrees in a tone that says she has no idea what he's talking about. Eddie survives on convenience store snack foods and the two meals she and Wayne can cok for each other. Her palate is not exactly refined. ]
[ She doesn't point out that she's not a hundred percent solid on what a bolognese sauce is, since she's pretty sure he means a meat sauce — thank you, context clues — and instead hitches herself onto her stool so she can plant her elbow on the cold marble of his kitchen island and plop her chin in her hand to watch him as he links together more words in a row than she's heard from him maybe ever.
Her eyes gleam as a broad smile starts to curl her lips, and she seems completely engrossed in his explanation. ]
Steve, that sounds incredible.
[ Is she maybe going to go to a grocer's in Indy the next time she's there and see if she can find leeks? Almost certainly. Even if she doesn't like the pasta primavera that he's made for them tonight, she's the type of person to go out of her way for her friends to find something they like if they mention it in conversation. Usually it's a cassette, or a book, or some kind of small trinket. Vegetables would be a first, but if it makes Steve happy... ]
If it tastes anything like this smells, I'm going to demand you make it for us next time.
[Honestly, heās not used to having people paying attention to his rambling about cooking. Then again, a lot of people heās cooked for have seemed to assume he was getting the meals brought in by some other person and was just heating them up. Which he hadnāt bothered correcting them on. Who was going to believe the most popular guy in school had a cooking hobby heād developed as what amounted to self-preservation?]
Well, if youāre not scared off by the end of the night, I might consider it. Weāre in a good season for me getting the produce I need without too much trouble. Nowā¦
[ Eddie would absolutely believe that, at least now, because Steve is turning out to be so much more than he seemed at first glance, and she's fascinated by all the new layers she's uncovering.
Also, this pasta smells really fucking good. ]
This is so cool, [ she mutters to herself, almost like she forgot Steve could probably hear her as she watches him serve them both, a healthy portion of pasta and vegetables in a creamy sauce reminding her that she was too nervous to eat lunch earlier. Her stomach growls, louder than she was mumbling, and she has the grace to look sheepish. ]
I don't think there's going to be much left for Rob, [ she confesses, waiting until Steve seems to have finished before she reaches for her fork. See? Even trailer park brats have some manners. She doesn't even ask why Steve is making packed lunches for his friend and coworker. Of course he does. ]
[ Just as she doesn't ask why Steve would be making Robin lunch, she doesn't ask why she'd be giving him the third degree about his date. It would be weirder if she didn't, probably. Those two are creepily attached at the hip. ]
Because, Steve, [ she says as she plucks a roll from the basket and immediately tears it in half with a satisfied look on her face. ] I've always thought you were hot, and now I've discovered that not only are you hot, but Henderson was right all along and you are actually a good dude. And I think you're funny, and I like hanging out with you, and it's nice to spend time with someone who fucking gets it.
[ She shrugs, feigning a nonchalance she doesn't really feel. They went over this over text, but apparently Steve needs a reminder. It's harder to say in person than it was to type, and she has a sinking feeling she's probably blushing a little. ]
[Itās not his fault that he has a best friend in Robin. The first person his age to genuinely care and look out for him. Sheās taught him a lot, heās taught her a lot, and really, heās actually sort of really lucky that Robinās got such a crush on Vickie because he canāt see why she wouldnāt have a crush on Eddie after everything. And wouldnāt those two be the strangest sort of power couple?]
Most people who think Iām funny only mean in that in a āto laugh atā sense. But okay. Itās still justā¦ I guess not expected? Had plenty of years in high school to hear how someone like me is the antithesis of all things Eddie Munson.
[And whatās he supposed to do with that knowledge? Well, he thinks he knows what. Put it aside.]
I hope the rolls are good. I donāt do bread often.
Yeah, well most people are fucking dumbasses, so... [ She understands why people look at Steve and make snap assumptions about what he's like, considering everything the town knows about him. It's inescapable, in a small town, having a reputation that means nobody tries to look past the surface, convinced they know everything there is worth knowing about you. But Eddie knows better than most that appearances can be deceiving, and she wants to actually get to know Steve.
A part of her wants to ask why he even asked her out, since he apparently seems so convinced that they're incompatible, but she's afraid of the answer. She doesn't want to know if he just thought she was convenient, or if he decided that he was tired of chasing after pretty popular girls so he thought he'd try the Freak instead. ]
You made the bread from scratch? [ Of course he did. Good god. ]
I suppose I canāt really argue with that point at all. Itās been easier to see with how people wanted to blame you for something that you could never do. Wanted to blame your club.
[He knew the Party too well to believe D&D meant evilness or whatever. It was ridiculous. How could that be evil when there were real monsters out there? Not that people knew that. But there were evil people out there, and that anyone could figure out.]
I didnāt make it from scratch today if that helps. Bread dough actually freezes pretty well. I donāt like the amount of work it takes, so when I do make dough, I make extra and freeze it.
[ She shrugs, not wanting to really dwell on the fact that she's still living in Hawkins by the skin of her teeth, that every time she gets into her van she has to check underneath the chassis and the hood both to make sure that her brake lines haven't been cut or something hasn't been sabotaged in the engine. She keeps extra spare tires in the back now in case one or all of them get slashed, and if anything happens to the paint on the siding, well. It's just paint.
It hurts even more to see people treat the kids badly. She's an adult, now, she's made choices that paint a target on her back. But the freshmen? They're still so young. They don't deserve the town's suspicion. ]
People are afraid of what they don't know. What they don't understand.
[ It's the kindest she can be when she still has dreams of being cornered in a parking lot and threatened with a tire iron.
Talking about Steve's food is a much nicer train of thought than the one she was going down, so she grabs onto it with both metaphorical hands. ]
[Okay, now Steve's rolling his eyes here, because that's so bullshit. He knows it's bullshit because he knows that you can learn from your mistakes and people here are choosing to stay ignorant.]
See, here's the thing. They aren't afraid of that. They are afraid of what is different and choose to not understand it. They want to not understand it because it lets them be afraid and angry and superior. Trust me. I was the most popular guy in school. I know how it works.
[With that he has some of his pasta and grins at the other thing.]
Of course you can freeze bread. You do it pretty late in the process and it lasts about six months. Not that I ever let it get that far. There are just some days you want hot bread. Or cinnamon rolls. I've usually got a backup pan of that.
[ Eddie can't help but give him a sarcastic little grin, something of a rictus that makes her feelings on the matter very clear. ] I have to tell myself that or I'm going to drive off a cliff, [ she jokes, but she's not really joking all that much. You laugh to keep from crying, right?
At least Steve seems to have seen the error of his ways. It gives her hope that the rest of their stupid town can be redeemed, too. Hopefully.
Chasing a pea around her plate, she looks up at him through her lashes and shakes her head slightly, amused. ]
Steve, you know what telling me this means, right?
[But see, hereās the thing. The day is won. The psychotic psychic man-child is defeated. Theyāve all lived. And Eddie? Eddie could finish one last year and then leave and never look back. As she should. Find a place where sheāll be appreciated.]
I really donāt know what telling you this means at all. Iām not El. I canāt get into peopleās minds.
[Heās also not Henry but thatās a whole other thing heās not evoking. Instead heās focused on eating the primavera and critiquing it in his head. Not enough zucchini he thinks.]
[ By that metric, Steve could leave right now. He could pack up his fancy car and drive off into the sunset and do literally anything he'd like somewhere where his name didn't feel like an albatross strapped around his neck.
But he won't, because of the kids. And Eddie won't, because of Wayne.
She sets her chin in her palm again and smiles, tilting her head to take him in fully. ]
You're going to have to make me breakfast one day.
[ She winks at him, then takes a bite of her food like she's punctuating a sentence. As her mouth registers what she's just put in it, she can't help making an involuntary noise, her eyes closing. ] Oh my god.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Jesus Christ. ]
Uh, yeah. [ She blinks, resists the urge to rub at her eyes because she's wearing eyeliner and if she fucks up her makeup now she's going to scream, visibly resetting herself before she brings up a crooked grin. ] See if I dress up for you ever again. Just for that, next time I'm going to wear my most obscure underground indie metal band shirt and then act offended that you don't know who they are.
[ Next time. Like she's planning on tonight going well. Which she is, by the way. She's decided it's going to be a success and she's going to approach it that way. If she lets herself be too nervous things are going to fall to pieces. She lifts her hand and waggles the shopping bag dangling from her fingers, the plastic distended by the sharp corners of the books on tape cases stuffed inside. ]
I got you a present.
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Oh come on, I'd recognize a Corroded Coffin shirt at this point. Dustin talks about you guys so much.
[What other obscure underground indie metal band could she be referencing?]
Present? Oh. The books on tape.
[That. The reminder. His expression falls for a moment. And the near instant replacement with an empty smile that looks almost perfectly genuine, one he's practiced from spending time at his parents' parties, slides into place.]
Come in. I'll put those in the living room near the stereo.
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Except try her best to keep this as normal as possible. ] I'll get you wearing our merch if it's the last thing I do, [ she promises with a little grin, doing her best not to think about how Steve would look wearing a T-shirt with her bands name emblazoned across the chest.
Steve is good at social stuff, but Eddie spent her entire life being the underdog, watching for the mood to shift in the room, because all it took was a split second before a joke could become dangerous. She sees the way Steve's face slackens with disappointment, and it makes something in her chest hurt. She wants to figure it out, to see if she can't understand why he's feeling that way and what she can do to make him feel better, but she's got a pretty good idea.
Wayne always says you can lead a horse to water but you can't make him drink. This is one of those instances. As much as she wants to force the issue, she knows she can't. She hast to let Steve do this in his own time. ]
I've got something else for you too, but that's gonna have to wait until after dinner.
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Why do I feel like the next time I stop by your place youāre going to find an excuse to spill something on my shirt just to make sure you live up to that threat?
[He raises an eyebrow at the implication of dessert.]
So I shouldnāt have splurged and got an ice cream cake?
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Don't kid yourself, Stevie, if I spill something on you, it won't be in an effort to get you to get dressed.
[ Maybe she shouldn't objectify him so blatantly since he's got such a chip on his shoulder about the way he's been treated in the past, but she'd probably have made that joke anyway even if this wasn't a date, and if he's going to try to date her, he's got to know what he's getting himself into. ]
Oh, no. We're definitely going to need that, too. In fact, it might help.
[ Ice cream cake. Is he for fucking real? ]
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Really, Eddie? Just out to compare scars? We both know yours are more numerous and cool, so itās fine. We donāt need to measure them.
[With the implication thereās more in the bag than the tapes he decides not to go and carry them off and instead guides Eddie to the kitchen. Which is very much set up like the pages of some high end magazineās idea of a kitchen, but clearly also really used to getting, well, used. Thereās an island clearly set up with plates and silverware (not the real silver of course), and the place smells amazing from the dinner heās just about to finish.]
I canāt imagine what weād need beyond ice cream cake. Best vehicle for ice cream there is.
[Which he only feels because heās so damn done with ice cream out of tubs. One summer of work had been enough. Not even a full summer. Enough of a summer and enough trauma to make it awkward.]
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He has to, right? Right?
She harrumphs at him as he turns to lead the way deeper into the house, deciding not to dig her grave any deeper. She does toe off her boots at the door, though, because Steve's house looks like a movie set, and she's a little terrified of dirtying it up.
The relief she feels when she discovers he set up their plates at the island and not in the dining room is enough to make her sight softly, some of her nerves leaking away.
This may be a date, but it's not a fancy date. Thank Christ. ]
I will still never forgive myself for not seeing you in your Scoops uniform. I can't believe I blew it like that. Those sailor suits were so cute.
[ And she's heard tales of what they did to Steve's ass and thighs, which admittedly interests her a lot more than how adorable he and Robin looked when they were dressed the same like toddler twins. ]
Damn, that smells good. [ She wanders past the island to peer at what's on the stove, keeping her hands conspicuously to herself until she gets the lay of the land. She doesn't want to poke her finger into something still bubbling, after all, she needs those fingertips intact. ] You're gonna spoil me, dude.
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As for level of fanciness... Well, the dining room was large enough for a dining party of ten, and Steve hates using it. It's so big, it's so formal. He hates the way his house feels like it belongs in a home magazine. Which is fair for it feeling that way, seeing as his mother has people sent every other year or so to completely renovate, do new furniture, things like that. He does what he can, these days, to avoid those fake feeling spaces.
The kitchen, at least, has become a bit of a haven for him. Which was why he'd chosen this arrangement.]
We burned them, after. It was because of the blood and the memories and other things.
[So yeah, he'd never see Steve in one beyond a picture Robin took without his knowledge and still hadn't revealed to him.
For now he takes some hot hands, lifts the full pot of pasta and vegetables and cheese and pours it into a large serving bowl. THis gets carried to the island before he goes to grab warm rolls out of the oven.]
It's not really spoiling. This is a quick cook. If I make you lasagna, then you know it's spoiling. That takes a lot more prep time. Feel free to sit down. What would you like to drink? I've got water, coke brand sodas, milk, and some juices.
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Steve's kitchen is bigger than the trailer's living room. If she was feeling especially hyperbolic she might even say it's bigger than her trailer entirely, but that's not really true. The living room and dining room, on the other hand... ]
That is a real fucking tragedy, man. I mean, not the exorcising your demons and finding closure after a traumatic experience, that's great, but the fact that the stupid outfits don't exist any more. [ She sighs dramatically, trying to make him crack a smile. ] I'll just have to use my imagination.
[ She lingers over Steve's shoulder as he pours the food into a serving bowl — why not just serve from the pot, he's just dirtying another dish for no reason — and inhales as a cloud of steam billows up around them as the food settles. ] Shut up, I'm enjoying being spoiled. If you make me lasagna, that's basically a proposal. And I'll just have water, I'll get it. You're busy. What do you want? [ Eddie trusts herself enough to open cupboards to find the glasses, Steve can focus on their meal first. ]
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[Whether thatās a good thing or not is another question. They all seem to talk in a language that Steveās never understood, and isnāt likely to. The amount of handholding the others had to do in that one game of D&D Erika had run for them had been impressive.]
No, if I made you lasagna using my nonnaās recipe, that would be a proposal. Just any old lasagna wouldnāt be. Especially if it was a white lasagna. Thatās not nearly as sacred.
[He does gesture toward a cabinet for water glasses. Which will of course be heavily dominated by wine glasses on a higher shelf, but you live and do what you can.]
Just water for now. I donāt think soda goes with primavera. Sure it goes with pizza, but the tomato sauce is what brings that together.
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I suppose you could say that.
[ Desperately curious about Steve's nonna — is he Italian?? she had no idea — she nevertheless forces herself to tackle the less personal part of that question first, in case it makes Steve uncomfortable. He brought it up, sure, but he's been so prickly lately, she's not sure what is and isn't crossing a boundary. ] What the fuck is a white lasagna.
[ She avoids the wine glasses because they kind of freak her out, so many identical glasses all lined up in neat rows, and fills two regular glasses with water which she brings out and sets down on the island. ]
Sure, [ she agrees in a tone that says she has no idea what he's talking about. Eddie survives on convenience store snack foods and the two meals she and Wayne can cok for each other. Her palate is not exactly refined. ]
Stupid accidentally posting early.
A white lasagna is a lasagna without a Bologeese sauce. Instead you use a creamy bĆ©chamel style of sauce. Oh, and a lot of cheese of course. And you use a lot more vegetables in it. Itās a lot of green vegetables in it too. Peas, asparagus, spinach. Herbs too. If you like this, youāll like a white lasagna. Really, I think itās amazing if you can get leeks in it, but you canāt buy those easily in Hawkins, unlike parsnips.
[Steve Harrington, not just a babysitter. Apparently also something of a chef.]
Thereās actually a number of ways you can do lasagna. Hell, thereās a lot of ways you can dress up pasta in general.
you're all good!
Her eyes gleam as a broad smile starts to curl her lips, and she seems completely engrossed in his explanation. ]
Steve, that sounds incredible.
[ Is she maybe going to go to a grocer's in Indy the next time she's there and see if she can find leeks? Almost certainly. Even if she doesn't like the pasta primavera that he's made for them tonight, she's the type of person to go out of her way for her friends to find something they like if they mention it in conversation. Usually it's a cassette, or a book, or some kind of small trinket. Vegetables would be a first, but if it makes Steve happy... ]
If it tastes anything like this smells, I'm going to demand you make it for us next time.
[ Next time, again. ]
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Well, if youāre not scared off by the end of the night, I might consider it. Weāre in a good season for me getting the produce I need without too much trouble. Nowā¦
[He moves a pair of large serving spoons into the large bowl of noodles and cheese and sautƩed vegetables and starts to serve them.]
Donāt be afraid to eat whatever you want. Anything we donāt finish is something that Iāll just be packing into lunches for Robin.
[Who was literally the only person who knew he did this.]
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Also, this pasta smells really fucking good. ]
This is so cool, [ she mutters to herself, almost like she forgot Steve could probably hear her as she watches him serve them both, a healthy portion of pasta and vegetables in a creamy sauce reminding her that she was too nervous to eat lunch earlier. Her stomach growls, louder than she was mumbling, and she has the grace to look sheepish. ]
I don't think there's going to be much left for Rob, [ she confesses, waiting until Steve seems to have finished before she reaches for her fork. See? Even trailer park brats have some manners. She doesn't even ask why Steve is making packed lunches for his friend and coworker. Of course he does. ]
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[He smiles as he fills his own plate before nudging the basket of warm rolls toward Eddie.]
Rob can miss out on pasta for lunch and not flip out. Sheāll be fed grilling me about all of this anyway. Including why you ever said yes.
[Which was a question in his mind too. One he was sort of subtly asking here and now.]
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[ Just as she doesn't ask why Steve would be making Robin lunch, she doesn't ask why she'd be giving him the third degree about his date. It would be weirder if she didn't, probably. Those two are creepily attached at the hip. ]
Because, Steve, [ she says as she plucks a roll from the basket and immediately tears it in half with a satisfied look on her face. ] I've always thought you were hot, and now I've discovered that not only are you hot, but Henderson was right all along and you are actually a good dude. And I think you're funny, and I like hanging out with you, and it's nice to spend time with someone who fucking gets it.
[ She shrugs, feigning a nonchalance she doesn't really feel. They went over this over text, but apparently Steve needs a reminder. It's harder to say in person than it was to type, and she has a sinking feeling she's probably blushing a little. ]
I like you. I'd like to know you better.
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Most people who think Iām funny only mean in that in a āto laugh atā sense. But okay. Itās still justā¦ I guess not expected? Had plenty of years in high school to hear how someone like me is the antithesis of all things Eddie Munson.
[And whatās he supposed to do with that knowledge? Well, he thinks he knows what. Put it aside.]
I hope the rolls are good. I donāt do bread often.
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A part of her wants to ask why he even asked her out, since he apparently seems so convinced that they're incompatible, but she's afraid of the answer. She doesn't want to know if he just thought she was convenient, or if he decided that he was tired of chasing after pretty popular girls so he thought he'd try the Freak instead. ]
You made the bread from scratch? [ Of course he did. Good god. ]
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[He knew the Party too well to believe D&D meant evilness or whatever. It was ridiculous. How could that be evil when there were real monsters out there? Not that people knew that. But there were evil people out there, and that anyone could figure out.]
I didnāt make it from scratch today if that helps. Bread dough actually freezes pretty well. I donāt like the amount of work it takes, so when I do make dough, I make extra and freeze it.
[His third nanny had taught him that.]
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It hurts even more to see people treat the kids badly. She's an adult, now, she's made choices that paint a target on her back. But the freshmen? They're still so young. They don't deserve the town's suspicion. ]
People are afraid of what they don't know. What they don't understand.
[ It's the kindest she can be when she still has dreams of being cornered in a parking lot and threatened with a tire iron.
Talking about Steve's food is a much nicer train of thought than the one she was going down, so she grabs onto it with both metaphorical hands. ]
I thought you could only freeze cooked bread.
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See, here's the thing. They aren't afraid of that. They are afraid of what is different and choose to not understand it. They want to not understand it because it lets them be afraid and angry and superior. Trust me. I was the most popular guy in school. I know how it works.
[With that he has some of his pasta and grins at the other thing.]
Of course you can freeze bread. You do it pretty late in the process and it lasts about six months. Not that I ever let it get that far. There are just some days you want hot bread. Or cinnamon rolls. I've usually got a backup pan of that.
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At least Steve seems to have seen the error of his ways. It gives her hope that the rest of their stupid town can be redeemed, too. Hopefully.
Chasing a pea around her plate, she looks up at him through her lashes and shakes her head slightly, amused. ]
Steve, you know what telling me this means, right?
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I really donāt know what telling you this means at all. Iām not El. I canāt get into peopleās minds.
[Heās also not Henry but thatās a whole other thing heās not evoking. Instead heās focused on eating the primavera and critiquing it in his head. Not enough zucchini he thinks.]
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But he won't, because of the kids. And Eddie won't, because of Wayne.
She sets her chin in her palm again and smiles, tilting her head to take him in fully. ]
You're going to have to make me breakfast one day.
[ She winks at him, then takes a bite of her food like she's punctuating a sentence. As her mouth registers what she's just put in it, she can't help making an involuntary noise, her eyes closing. ] Oh my god.
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I'm at work now so I'm doing phone tags, I'm sorry for all the typos š
Donāt worry about it i know it happens
Forgetting my formatting is just š
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