the shire is burning [eddie munson x OC]

chapter eight

In the two hours since she's last seen Eddie, Willow has survived Spanish and most of her Chemistry class. It's all been a blur of ice-breakers, really, keeping Willow entertained but not forcing her to do any critical thinking.

It's nice.

Or at least, it was nice. Mr. Edwards, Willow's chemistry teacher, was droning on about some story from his summer vacation to pass the final ten minutes of class when suddenly, the door to the classroom bursts open.

"Eddie Munson," Mr. Edwards' face twitches, on the verge of cringing at the sight of Eddie, "How nice of you to join us."

"The honor's all mine," Eddie unabashedly replies, closing the door behind him. His eyes rake over the room, and when his eyes find Willow immediately, a mischievous smile takes over his face. She catches the falter in it when his eyes find the seats beside her already taken.

"Please, take a seat."

The seating arrangement in this class was different from O'Donnell's classroom. Instead of individual seats, students were automatically paired as they sat at long black tables large enough for two students to sit. Willow was currently sitting at the table in the center of the front row with Chrissy Cunningham sitting to her left. The only free seat wasn't in any of the corners like Willow assumes Eddie would prefer, but one row back from her and off to her right. It was beside a quiet kid that Willow had never spoken to before. The open seat was the left one, the one closest to Willow, the one that would place Eddie Munson directly diagonal from her.

Eddie takes his time walking to the seat, gaze never leaving Willow as he brushes past her. She almost considers sticking a foot out and tripping him in retaliation for the embarrassment he's indirectly causing her; his attention on her has whispers piping up behind her, and she thinks she can hear her name being mentioned.

The students of Hawkins High were not subtle.

"Why'd he look at you like that?" Chrissy leans over to whisper, no malicious intent in her voice. When Willow meets her wide eyes, all she sees is genuine curiosity.

Willow shrugs. "No clue."

"Have you ever talked to him before?" Chrissy means no harm still, but Willow wishes she would drop it.

"Once or twice, yeah," Willow stares straight ahead as she replies, and Chrissy is kind enough to pick up on the message she's sending. The whispers don't stop from behind them, but Willow can tune those out.

She can't tune out the wad of paper that flies over her right shoulder once Mr. Edwards launches back into his story.

She stares at it for a moment, confused. But then she glances behind her in the general direction she'd assumed that the paper came from, and finds Eddie Munson gleaming at her with an open notebook in front of him, the top corner clearly torn out. Her curious look quickly hardens into a glare, mouth agape as she looks back to the paper ball. She still doesn't touch it. When she looks back at Eddie, trying to stay subtle considering she was in the front row, he's resting his chin on his right hand, knuckles covering his mouth as he waves his left hand to encourage her to open what clearly must be a note.

She pulls the ball closer, hoping Chrissy doesn't notice as she smooths it out.

Tell me what the deal was.

Eddie's handwriting is boyish, messy and almost illegible as Willow squints to read over it several times to decipher it. When she glances back at him, his eyes are wide and eager.

She simply shakes her head.

No, she wasn't telling Eddie. Sometime during last period, it occurred to her that this might be a secret she'd take to the grave. Of course, Robin knew, but she could trust Robin. She could handle any teasing that Robin did because at the end of the day, the power dynamic between her and Robin in that ridiculous situation was equal. Robin had suggested the stupid idea, so any time Willow caught shit from her for it, she could easily remind her of that.