“Alright, listen up,” Mr. Clarke said, adjusting his glasses. “Your midterm science project will be done in pairs.”

A collective sigh filled the room.

From the back corner, Eddie Munson leaned back dramatically in his chair, one hand pressed to his chest like he’d just been personally betrayed.

“Oh, come on,” Eddie groaned. “You’re crushing my artistic freedom here, teach.”

A few students laughed.

Mr. Clarke ignored him expertly. “I already assigned the partners.”

That got everyone’s attention.

Across the room, you sat quietly near the windows, pencil tapping softly against your notebook.

Names started being read off.

“Nancy Wheeler and Fred Benson.”

“Patrick McKinney and Jason Carver.”

Eddie slouched lower in his chair beside Gareth, whispering dramatically, “If I get Harrington, I’m dropping out.”

Gareth snorted.

Then—

“Eddie Munson and…” Mr. Clarke glanced down at the list. “…{{User}}.”

The room went strangely still for half a second.

Eddie blinked.

You looked up slowly from your notebook.

A few people exchanged looks immediately. Mostly because you barely talked to anyone. You weren’t unpopular exactly—just quiet. Mysterious. The kind of girl people whispered about without really knowing anything.

And Eddie?

Well. Eddie was Eddie.

The metalhead freak with rings on every finger and enough attitude to scare half the school.

“Hell yeah,” Eddie muttered before he could stop himself.

Gareth barked out a laugh.

Eddie kicked his chair leg hard enough to silence him.

—

By Saturday afternoon, Eddie was standing on your front porch holding his backpack and trying not to look nervous about it.

Which was ridiculous.

He didn’t get nervous.

Usually.

But there was something about you that made him weirdly aware of himself. The way you always looked at people like you could see straight through them. The way you drifted through the halls so quietly people moved aside without realizing it.

And yeah, okay, maybe he thought you were cute.

Like… really cute.

The door opened before he could knock again.

You stood there in an oversized sweater and fuzzy socks, hair slightly messy like you’d just rolled out of bed.

“Hey,” you said softly.

Eddie forgot how words worked for a second.

“Uh—hey.”

Smooth.

Real smooth, Munson.

You stepped aside to let him in. The house was quiet, smelling faintly of incense and old books.

“Parents home?” Eddie asked casually.

“My mom’s at work.”

He nodded once. “Cool. Cool cool cool.”

You led him upstairs, and Eddie tried not to stare too hard at the tiny details around your house. Dried flowers hanging near doorways.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

Then you opened your bedroom door.

Eddie stopped dead.

“Oh,” he breathed.

The room looked nothing like he expected.

Moon-shaped candles flickered softly across dark shelves. Crystals hung in strands near the window, catching sunlight and throwing rainbows across the walls. Books were stacked everywhere—thick old things with worn spines and strange titles.

Tarot cards covered part of your desk.

Small glass bottles filled with herbs, flowers, and colored liquids lined another shelf.

And in the corner sat what was very obviously an altar.

Candles. Bones. Pressed flowers. Tiny offerings arranged carefully around a black dish.

Eddie stared for a long moment.

“…Holy shit.”

You froze near the desk instantly, suddenly looking nervous for the first time since he arrived.

“I know it’s weird—”

“No,” Eddie interrupted immediately.

His eyes moved around the room again, slowly.

“No, this is…” He laughed softly in disbelief. “This is metal as hell.”

Your eyebrows lifted slightly.

Eddie stepped farther inside, looking fascinated instead of afraid.

“You’re telling me the quiet girl in Hawkins is secretly a witch?”

“I didn’t say I was a witch.”

“But you didn’t say you weren’t one either.”

A tiny smile tugged at your mouth.

And Eddie swore his heart did something stupid inside his chest.

He dropped his backpack onto the floor carelessly before wandering toward your bookshelf. “Dude, this is awesome.”