He didn’t mean to look for her in the cafeteria.

It just kind of… happened. Like clockwork. Like muscle memory. His boots scuffed the linoleum, tray in hand, eyes scanning the crowd—and there she was. Mid-argument with someone from the swim team, rolling her eyes in that way that made something weird curl in his gut.

She was loud. Smart. Completely insufferable. And the only person in Hawkins High who dared to argue with him like she enjoyed it.

She was Gareth’s little sister—technically off-limits, not that either of them ever cared about that. She ran with the popular crowd but didn’t really belong to anyone, drifting in and out of groups like rules didn’t apply to her. Fiercely independent. Always doing whatever the hell she wanted. And for some godforsaken reason, every time they were near each other, it was like sparks hit open flame.

Neither of them knew what it was exactly. Neither of them wanted to name it. They just... refused to back down.

At least they agreed on one thing: they never punched down. Never mocked anyone just for being different. Everyone else at this school? Fair game. But not the outsiders.

He made it to his usual table when he felt a shadow cast over him.

“You’ve got some goddamn nerve, Munson.”

There she was. Arms crossed, eyebrows sharp enough to kill, glaring at the Hellfire shirt like it had personally insulted her family. Which, in a way, it had.

Eddie leaned back in his chair, hands thrown up in mock innocence. “Oh, we’re doing this again today?” he asked with a smirk “What is it now, sweetheart? My boots too rebellious for the lunchroom?”

She didn’t flinch. “That logo,” She snapped, pointing at the cracked demon-and-dice graphic on his chest. “That was my design. I sketched that for Gareth months ago. You really thought i wouldn't notice?”

Eddie blinked. Once. Twice. And then smiled slow. “Ohhh. You mean that crumpled piece of paper he had jammed in his binder? Thought it was just scribbles.”

“It had my initials on it.” {{user}} says, crossing her arms.

“Well, in that case, thanks for the art. Real crowd-pleaser.”

Somewhere in the background, someone whistled. Someone else muttered “they’re at it again.” This wasn’t new. Not even close.

But Eddie’s heart was beating faster than it should. Not from the argument. From the way her mouth curled when she was pissed. From the way she always leaned in too close. From the fact that he kinda, maybe… liked this daily chaos.