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jo-harrington · 1 year

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Standard Operating Procedures 1.01 (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Previous Part: Sales Pitch

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie Munson's Official Comprehensive Pizza Tour of Hawkins

Warnings/Themes: Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Fluffy and awkward and a little bit emotional. Slowish Burnish because of reasons. AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins.

Note: Don't know if this should become a series of Standard Operating Procedures that specifically feature their hang outs/not-a-date nights? Because I have other ideas that are not their Sunday nights that I am also interested in writing. I JUST LOVE THEM OK?

Also minor disclaimer that Reader mentions being from Chicago in this, but has mentioned knowing small town mentality in Sales Pitch. She's from the suburbs, she's saying Chicago but she's from the suburbs. It's just what we do. (And if you're in the know but are suspish, she is not, I repeat, is not from Naperville.)

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring Eddie and his favorite Store Manager, and all of my other random Eddie Headcanons.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

"Tonight’s the night!"

"Yep."

"You going to meet her upstairs?"

"Uh huh."

"You seem nervous...you nervous Ed?”

"Really trying to keep my mind off it, man," Eddie grumbled and went back to counting down the registers and ignoring his boss' teasing.

Kyle was like the older brother Eddie never realized he wanted and now, after working together for a few weeks, was kind of glad he didn't actually have.

Eddie had been shitting bricks at his interview. This job was something he really wanted and he truly thought that he would be rejected immediately, knowing his reputation around town. But Kyle was not from Hawkins. He had been the manager at the Tape World at the Muncie Mall and then transferred when he heard that a new store at StarCourt was opening.

And in what was either the dumbest or smartest move ever, when Kyle asked if Eddie had any questions at the end of the interview, Eddie asked why he chose to move to the desolate pit that was Hawkins, instead of literally anywhere else.

"For some people, escape is a thousand miles away," Kyle explained. "And for others, it's like...an hour up highway 65."

Then Kyle offered him a job as a key holder, saying that had been the most insightful question he had gotten all day. (With the added bonus that Eddie was also over 18.)

Even after the official paperwork was filled out, after Eddie got his keys, after the first paycheck was cashed, after Kyle literally asked him one night after closing if he knew of any dealers in town that could hook him up, Eddie still felt like it was the biggest prank being played on him.

(Eddie gave him Rick's address because there was no way in hell he was going to sell weed to his own boss. He might be stupid but he wasn't dumb.)

And sure, Kyle could be a hardass sometimes, like any boss could be. He cared about his business. But he was so easygoing and took care of everyone. Made sure everyone was able to have the hours they wanted. He knew a lot about music and really challenged Eddie to be open minded about his personal music preferences.

He also ribbed Eddie to no end after you, "the cute chick from that jewelry place," brought him cookies during opening week.

"She thinks you're cute too by the way," Kyle insisted.

"That's hilarious," Eddie snorted. "She was super rude when she came in."

"Food beats rude, Ed. She likes you."

Eddie, of course, refused to believe it. He had seen his fair share of stuck up, fake, cheerleader types yanking his chain only to laugh in his face when he made a fool of himself.

So he stuck to the Munson Doctrine. And vowed never again.

When he told Kyle as much, Kyle just shrugged and ate the cookies himself. "Your loss man."

But Eddie kept seeing you around and you kept smiling at him. And then...well, he didn't really know what to make of you. One plus one was not adding up to two. And when you didn’t give up whatever game he was convinced you were playing, Kyle was inevitably there to play Devil’s Advocate.

“Just go and say hi. Or at least smile dude. God, no wonder people think you’re some evil brooding asshole. Kidding. I’m kidding. She’s new in town. Maybe she needs a weed dealer too. Or maybe she likes metal. Just go talk to her. Fuck it, ask her to hang out. What’s there to lose?”

So he took Kyle's advice, and that was probably the last thing he should have done because now he had a date. Was it a date? Neither of you had really specified. Eddie kicked himself when he got back to the store and realized that aside from the agreed upon Sunday after close and Pizza, no actual commitment to a date had been made.

All Eddie knew was, Kyle wouldn't get off his fucking ass about it.

"Ok so here's what you're gonna do," Kyle clapped him on the shoulder after they locked up and Eddie was about to head up to meet you. "You're gonna be really respectful--"

"I've got it."

"--and really cool, because you can kind of be a nerd sometimes--"

"I've gone on a date before, fuck."

"Did you or did you just fool around with someone at the back of a dark movie theater?" Eddie refused to look him in the eye and Kyle snorted. "I knew it."

He proceeded to give him some halfway decent advice before sending Eddie on his way. The advice was now bouncing around Eddie's head, along with every single shred of self-doubt he'd ever had, as he waited outside of your store.

You had smiled and waved when you saw him through the gate, and he was really trying not to stare as you wrapped up your own closing tasks. He fidgeted with his rings, he nodded as other mall employees he knew passed by on the way to the exit, he wondered if he would survive the fall if he just fell backwards over the railing overlooking the food court.

Surely a cracked skull would be better than everything he was feeling right now.

When you disappeared into the back for several minutes, Eddie let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. There really was no turning back now. He was going to be spending the rest of his Sunday with you.

He tried not to smile like an idiot, but he honestly couldn’t help it.

Finally, you made your return and ducked under the gate before locking it. When you turned to face him, Eddie stared and that smile disappeared as he went from giddy to utterly dumbstruck.

No neon, no scrunchies, no stacks of jingling bracelets. Your hair was down and the obnoxiously bright eyeshadow you were just wearing--that he could clearly see, even from outside of the store--had been wiped away.

"Hey, so I obviously drove to work," you closed the distance between the two of you, breaking Eddie from his reverie with a long string of words that, were he in his right mind, Eddie would have wondered whether you had practiced beforehand. "But I didn't know if you wanted to maybe drive and I'll pay for the pizza because I really don't know my way around yet except for home, work, and the grocery store. And if I just follow you and we get separated or something, you're probably gonna have to send a search party.

"Unless it’s kind of near Main Street then I’ll be…well if—what?" You raised your eyebrows when you noticed he was staring.

"What?" Eddie parroted, processing...well, just processing. Trying to figure you out once again.

You looked down at yourself and fidgeted where you stood.

Shit.

"Yeah I know, it's different," you shrugged down at your perfectly normal outfit. A Cherry Coke t-shirt, jean shorts, and a baggy sweater. "I thought...well it's just pizza…so I figured casual—”

"No, it's totally fine, I'm sorry. You look..." Eddie suddenly couldn't remember any of Kyle's advice.

He had been practicing the whole you look nice compliment with the picture of you that existed in his mind: The trendy store manager. Which, yeah did look nice on you, but was also a little intimidating, if Eddie was honest with himself. Those clothes were the same clothes as the girls who lived in Loch Nora who teased him because he lived in a trailer park. The high ponytail and scrunchies were the cheerleaders who laughed when the jocks pushed him and his friends around. All of it tied back to people he hated, people who hated him.

And now suddenly, that wasn’t you. It was a relief. He could look at you and not worry that some sharp, pain-inflicting words would be directed at him.

But the look on your face, the fidgeting, the stammering and backtracking. Eddie realized you were just as nervous as he was.

How many times had Wayne--or even Rick once or twice--said the kind of people who judged someone’s looks before their character were not worth having around anyway? Now here he was, doing just that.

Shit.

"I just wasn't expecting you to look--"

"Yeah," you laughed nervously, interrupting him. "I really only wear that stuff for work. It's a lot. And you kind of have to look the part. I think I mentioned that…before right?”

"It's fine, you look great," Eddie offered, gaining enough courage to stop you from feeling bad because of his stupid nerves and big mouth. "Really. I just...have never not seen you like that. And now—”

"It's silly. I feel silly wearing that stuff sometimes," you admitted, playing with the hem of your sweater. "And I do like some of it. The jewelry, for sure. But altogether...well it's still me. It’s just the me who also answers the phone in a different voice, and comforts kids when they're scared to get their ears pierced, and tells people what's on sale. And this is me when I'm not that."

You shrugged and held your arms out, and Eddie could clearly understand the unspoken "so take it or leave it."

Eddie took a second to process and then smiled again. Of course he would take it. He would be stupid not to.

"I get it," he nodded.

"Really?" you smiled. “Cool.”

"Cool." There was a beat. "So back to the original topic of conversation, I can definitely drive us around but there is no way I'm letting you pay for pizza. I'm the one who asked you to hang out, after all."

He started walking away, leaving you to protest as you followed.

---

There were only 3 really good pizza places in Hawkins, in Eddie's professional opinion: Lou's on 8th street, Pizzeria Uno which was conveniently in the same strip mall as the arcade and the video store, and Domino's. None of which had any indoor seating, which meant the two of you could sit in the back of Eddie's van with the doors open so you could enjoy the nice weather and talk.

Eddie, of course, had cleaned the van beforehand. All of the shit his friends left after gigs or when they stopped for food when he drove them home from Hellfire during the school year. Random empty baggies, magazines he really didn’t want you to see (yet…or maybe ever), and some other questionable things. It all needed to go.

And although you seemed a little hesitant when Eddie led you to his trusty chariot, you happily agreed to Eddie’s plans for the night.

“Sorry, I’m sure you get that reaction a lot,” you said as he helped you into the passenger’s side. “I dunno, van…suspicious.”

“Either that or they’re calling it a rusty old shitbox,” Eddie laughed it off, happy that you still seemed to trust him. “Which is even more offensive. Especially when it comes from my friends.”

“Listen, as the owner of my own rusty old shitbox, I can totally relate. And it’s not even that bad. No holes in the floor.”

The drive back into town was filled with Eddie’s own personal rubric for good pizza along with your comments.

“Pepperoni pizza.”

“Why pepperoni? Why not just cheese?"

"With a coke."

"Do you guys not drink RC here?"

"And ranch. I usually just pour it on, but I'll leave it on the side. For you. In case you like to dip your slice in."

"Of course you're a ranch guy," you scoffed.

"Of course you're not," Eddie challenged. "What's your perfect slice then?" And you went into a tirade that he, quite honestly, enjoyed watching.

Eddie honestly never thought he had ever had such an in-depth discussion about pizza with anyone (except when he got high at Rick’s, but that was mostly one-sided anyway). It really said a lot about you. Incredibly opinionated, but willing to stop every so often and hear his side of things. Willing to let yourself be convinced, let yourself be wrong.

Which he found out as he pulled into the Domino's parking lot on the first stop of the Pizza Tour and you finished off a passionate speech about red pepper flakes and "good parmesan" only to give him the most skeptical look.

"Eddie," you began. "When you said pizza--"

"This is pizza," he assured you.

"I'm from Chicago for one thing," you explained. "And besides that, I used to help my grandma cook as a kid, every Sunday, in her basement kitchen."

"Then you've never had Domino's before?" he assumed, correctly if your sudden fidgeting was any indicator.

So it wasn't gonna take much to make you nervous...noted.

"Just trust me--for today--ok? If you hate everything, you never have to see me again."

"Eddie! I--"

"But if you like it, then one day I'll let you make your grandma's pizza recipe for me. And I'll trust you not to poison me."

It was a risky bet to make, on Eddie's part at least, because he really hoped this wouldn't be a one time thing. But you nodded and he grinned and left you in the van to choose something from his little box of cassettes while he ran inside to place the order.

When he got back he teased you and grilled you on other delicacies you might have missed out on thanks to the "gourmet cuisine" of your obviously superior upbringing. No Swanson TV dinners, no snack pack chocolate pudding, no sloppy joes, no chocolate milk.

"That's it," he threw his hands up in the air, looking to the heavens for guidance. "I'm going to have to teach you everything."

"Stop it, oh my god, Eddie!"

He grabbed your shoulders.

"Have you ever experienced the sweet taste of Mountain Dew," Eddie begged. "A Twinkie! Please tell me the truth; have you ever eaten a Hostess Cupcake?"

"Yes," you laughed as he shook you. "Yes I have. Stop!"

"Maybe you're not hopeless after all," he sighed in feigned relief. "There's still time to undo all that's been done to you." As though homemade dinners were some sort of torture.

When the order was ready, you toasted with your cans of coke and Eddie watched with great anticipation as you took your first bite of a Domino's pizza. You even dipped a little in the ranch dressing--just for him, you explained. You chewed thoughtfully and then took a second bite, this time from the crust.

Watching and waiting was torture for Eddie, sure, but he got to see you scrunch your nose in thought, bob your head side to side along with Blue Oyster Cult as it played lightly from the stereo, stare right back at him and enjoy the torture you were putting him through.

"What's the verdict, sweetheart," he asked. "I don't think my heart can take it anymore. I can drive us back to StarCourt right now."

"It's...good," you agreed and he whooped, punching the air in victory, before he took a slice for himself. "I'm still not a fan of the ranch though."

"That's fine. Different strokes for different folks," Eddie shrugged. "My uncle always says that."

---

Pizzeria Uno was next and Eddie mocked your look of relief as he pulled into the lot.

"You act like spending time with me is some kind of torture," he teased, secretly voicing some of the anxieties that he had been pushing down since you had agreed to hang out with him. He knew, even with a short amount of time in your company, that you were enjoying yourself, that you seemed to like being around him.

Historically, that hadn't stopped things from going south for Eddie though. There was still time to screw it up, if he hadn't already.

"I'm just happy that it looks like they use oregano in their sauce," you explained. "Maybe you do know your stuff after all."

"Hey, don't speak too soon," he teased. "There's a Chuck E. Cheese down the road; we could be headed there next."

He left you in charge of the music again, really interested in what you would pick this time, since you had started with--what he believed to be--the most mainstream tape he had in the van.

"Alright," he cheered as he stepped out of the shop and heard the shredding of Quiet Riot over the sounds of kids running around as they got dropped off at the arcade. "This is what I'm talking about."

"You didn't like The Cult?" you asked, still digging through the box as you kicked your legs out of the back of the van. "These are your tapes, right?"

"What you don't know is that this is all a test," Eddie began. "To see if you have taste."

"It's all metal," you emphasized. "Taste means variety. You're lucky I don't grab a tape out of my bag."

"Am I going to need to start you on music lessons too? Seems like it, since you don't think metal is variety." He jumped into the back and snatched the box from your hands. "Gimme that, it's quiz time.

"Metallica?"

“They’re good,” you nodded.

“Good?! Just good?!” Eddie knew it was better than he was gonna get from mostly anyone else in town, but he was still gonna give you shit for it. “You’re wounding me here, sweetheart.”

“Oh please!”

"My band's gonna be touring with them someday, so if you want to be on that VIP list, you're gonna need to do better than just good. Here," he passed his copy of Ride the Lightning off to you. "For tonight's homework."

“Homework!?” you laughed.

“Yeah,” he shook the tape in your direction and you reluctantly grabbed it. "I expect you to listen to that at the highest volume you can, til your ears bleed. There will be an essay due next Sunday." You rolled your eyes at him but smiled cutely and Eddie felt incredibly smug.

"Fine. I guess if I want to be on that VIP list," you said mockingly. "Tell me more about this band though. Are you any good?"

"You'll have to come to one of our shows and find that out for yourself. But yeah, the best you're gonna find in Bumfuck, Indiana." He puffed his chest out a little bit. "We play at the Hideout every Tuesday night. Not a big crowd or anything. It's just this little place anyway."

Eddie goes into detail about the bar, the makeshift little stage and the single spotlight, and the handful of regulars who probably don't even notice the music as they drink their troubles away anyway.

He doesn't notice the guilty look on your face for a few minutes.

"I close on Tuesdays," you mutter. "I'm sorry. It's one of those things when you work retail long enough, you get kind of set in your schedule."

"That's ok," he tried not to sound too disappointed.

"I could try trading with my ASM," you offered quickly. "Or maybe..."

"I-it's totally fine," he held his hands out. "Jeff's trying to get us on the schedule for the Hawkins 4th of July carnival in a few weeks anyway. So you might even see us there. Don't sweat it."

"Ok. Sounds like a plan. I'm sorry," you reached across and placed your hand on his.

"No worries." Eddie really doesn't want to pull his hand away from yours, but he needs to go back in and grab the food. It's been long enough, right?

When he returns, he basks in your cheers as you find the thin crust, party cut pizza, pre-sprinkled with red pepper flakes and no ranch in sight.

"Ok so Jeff," you recall after shoving the crunchy corner piece into your mouth. "You mentioned him before. Working on his confidence, right?"

"Yeah, not everyone can be as naturally charismatic as yours truly," he brags.

"Uh huh," you deadpanned. "Charismatic."

"You wound me, my lady. But yeah, Jeff used to jam with us...with the band from time to time. He's part of this club at school with me, and then..." Eddie pauses. "Well, then the band pretty much broke up last summer. I mean...we did break up. And it sucked because we'd been playing together for years.

"I was...kind of in a bad place. But Jeff said he could take over rhythmic guitar. Thus Corroded Coffin 2.0 was born. And I noticed he needed to build up his confidence more so I let him front every now and again. And he got his friend Dave on Bass, but it wasn't that hard to convince him, he's been worshiping Geddy Lee for years. And then Gareth on drums, which he said he could play pretty good, but the little shit was actually in an orchestra and played timpani.

"Can you believe it? What the fuck even is a timpani? Had us all fooled too, until we started practicing Hot for Teacher and he could barely keep up. But he's a lot better now, and like...he's stupidly good. Better than Mick ever was."

Eddie gets caught up for a second as he says a name he hasn't uttered for an entire year, after he told his childhood best friend he could go fuck himself.

Grow the fuck up Ed. This band was just some fun, it was never gonna get us out of Hawkins.

It wasn't gonna get Mickey out of Hawkins, because he already left. But it was gonna get Eddie out. It had to.

You clear your throat awkwardly, and Eddie appreciates you not bringing up the pain that he couldn't hide very well yet, the wound obviously too fresh.

"So, your club at school," you began instead. "Do you take classes nearby?"

Fuck. Well...if he hadn't scared you away yet, this might do it.

"You...could say that," Eddie hesitated. "I, um, am still at Hawkins High."

He watched all of the thoughts run clearly behind your eyes like they did when nearly everyone else found out he had failed senior year again. He had heard all of the whispers, the fake politeness. Some people weren't as polite and just said it out loud.

Eddie the Failure. Eddie the Idiot. Eddie the Freak.

"Oh, well shit, if I knew you were still in high school." Eddie looked away from you, unable to deal with seeing the disgust in your eyes. "I mean, Tape World is your first job right? Duh. I mean...Jimmy just got his first job too, god...how did I not...Ok. I should have asked. You do look a lot older than 16 though."

Eddie's head immediately snapped back to yours. You thought--

"I'm not...not 16," Eddie coughed awkwardly. "I'm 19. 20 in October."

"Wh--"

"I'm repeating senior year," he explained, still waiting for the penny to drop, for you to start laughing at him. "For a second time, actually."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Hey listen." Eddie steeled himself for the words he knew were coming. This has been fun but I'm a serious adult and don't want to hang out with someone who failed high school twice. Let alone date them. "Everyone learns at their own pace and yeah school sucks."

What?

"Is that like...any different than the kids who repeat kindergarten though?" You laughed, trying to lighten the mood. "My cousin Doug actually had to repeat kindergarten twice because he couldn't handle it and now he's running for Mayor back home. It's all relative."

Eddie was looking at you like you were the freak now.

"You don't care?" he asked.

"Not...particularly," you shrugged. "Do you...mind that I don't care? Is that weird?"

No one else wanted him around after he failed the first time. He believed. Let alone this second time.

Aside from his buddies who were still in high school. Wayne and Rick told him he could take the time he needed to finish up school...or get his GED, whichever made him happy. It didn't matter to them. And Kyle didn't really seem to mind either.

Would Eddie care if the tables were turned? Probably not. So why should it be weird if you didn't care.

"No," he finally answered. "It's...thank you for saying that. Everyone...is kind of shitty when they find out."

"Are they shitty because they find out?" you ask sagely. "Or are they just shitty to begin with? You don't want people like that around anyway."

No, he definitely did not.

---

It was dark by the time you got to Lou's. The dinner rush in full swing. Eddie suggested going somewhere else since the lot was small and already pretty full. You agreed but hopped out of the van before he could, insisting on paying.

"I'm trying to be a gentleman," Eddie protested, grabbing onto your arm before you could leave, trying to at least grab your wallet out of your hand if not stop you altogether. "My uncle would kill me if he knew I let you pay for dinner."

"You already paid for two pizzas, let me get this one!" You quickly pinched the skin on his wrist and he let you go, looking shocked and betrayed that you would stoop so low. "With two brothers and a bunch of cousins, you gotta think on your feet. Pick out some music. I have tapes in my bag too. You can snoop, I don't care."

The passenger door slammed shut and Eddie at least waited until you got into the shop before he grabbed your purse, unable to help himself since you gave him permission.

Rush, Moving Pictures. Dave would love you. Styx, Paradise Theater. Not really his thing but passable. The Smiths. Billy Joel. The 5th Dimension? Pass. Pass. Pass.

Ok so this is what you meant by variety.

He popped the tape out of your walkman. Boston. Ok he could get behind it.

He popped it into the stereo and winced as it skipped and dropped out, Brad Delp's voice warping every now and again. He wondered if "Hitch a Ride" was your favorite--interesting--or if the wear and tear was just bad on the whole tape. Very interesting.

Eddie ejected the tape and put it back into your walkman. Maybe something lighter, something with more meaning.

He twiddled his fingers for a second, about to reach for the box of tapes, before turning his attention to the glovebox and popping it open.

It honestly was the one spot he didn't worry about cleaning. The guys knew the glove box was off-limits. It was filled with the usual shit: napkins, vehicle registration, condoms, a forgotten joint that was hastily put out and thrown in that one time Callahan caught him and the guys parked up by the quarry. And then at the very back, rubber banded together, a couple of cassettes.

The Monkee's Greatest Hits and More Greatest Hits.

You had inadvertently shared something with Eddie by letting him see your tapes, and now Eddie could share something with you.

Besides, you had both been sharing all night, whether you had planned to or not.

Was this a good idea though? It was a heavy topic, these tapes were something he typically would listen to on his own when he couldn't make it over to Rick's to listen to the records he had stashed there, no room for them in the trailer with all of his amps and other shit. He had gotten the tapes last year, after his falling out with Mick and the guys and...

Ugh don't think about that.

Well, if you hadn't been scared away yet, you probably would be now. No better way to end a first date than with some tears right?

"Edward I-dont-know-your-middle-name Munson," you exclaimed as you pulled the door open. "Why didn't we start here? Pizza by the slice and cannoli? I would say that I get to choose where we go next time, but I don't know what else there is, so I guess I have to trust you." You shoved the boxes at him as you climbed in.

"Gotta end the night on a high note sweetheart," he explained. "And next time?" He grinned cheekily.

"Yeah we're having a great time," you shrugged and took the boxes back once you were situated. "I'm having a great time, at least. Except for the part where you made me think I was spending the day with a literal child and gave me a stroke--"

"You did that to yourself," he chuckled and started driving. "But yes, I'm having a great time too. Except when you told me you've never had Chef Boyardee. I took that kind of personally."

"So did you snoop or what?" you asked as you spotted the tapes in his lap. "What are we listening to?"

He passed them over to you and took a breath.

"Oh cool, I love Daydream Believer," you nod and put the cassette in the stereo only for that exact song to start playing. You looked at Eddie in shock. "Shut up."

"It was my mom's favorite song," he explained. "I listen to it whenever...I need her with me. The whole album actually."

"Oh shit," you muttered. "Eddie, I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry? I'm the one bringing up heavy shit when we're supposed to be having a good time." He scratched at the back of his neck. "I've kind of been stepping in it all night, haven't I?"

"No," you shook your head. "No, you've been sharing things with a friend. Important things."

"Right."

"And here I thought I was the one stepping in it," you admitted. "Maybe I have been if you need your mom's strength to finish this night out with me."

"Absolutely not," Eddie disagreed, laughing. "Listen, if anything, this is her stamp of approval. If you love Daydream Believer, she would have loved you. Dumped me off on the side of the road and you two would have driven down Highway 77 singing it at the top of your lungs together."

"Not you too?"

"I mean, yeah, but she used to drive this two-door car, and I would be too tall for the backseat now, but she wouldn't let a guest sit in back, so I would just be stranded."

Eddie started telling you about her as he drove. How she taught him how to play guitar, how she was an absolute sweetheart, how she did everything she could to protect him and take care of him, both when his dad was around and then once he was--thankfully--sent away. How she was hesitant to start dating Rick, and then hesitant again to let Rick meet him.

He got around to talking about Wayne and Rick a bit too, how they did their best to raise him once she was gone. How he knows it wasn't easy--it still isn't--but he did what he could now to make it up to them.

"Except finish school, apparently," he said in a self-deprecating way that had you tutting at him.

He finished his story by the time he made it to the destination, which just so happened to be Lover's Lake--Rick's house, more specifically, although the house was dark and locked up as Rick was out on business. Eddie backed the van up Rick's driveway so you could have a view of the lake from the back as you ate.

"Well thank you for sharing that with me, Eddie," you began as you settled into the back of the van. "That's...yeah that isn't easy to share with someone new. And it all sucks; it sucks, and you don't deserve that, but I'm sure your mom is still here with you."

"Yeah she is," he agreed. He's proud that he made it through without crying. "She's my angel."

He didn't believe in the divine. But he believed in his mom.

"She is," you smiled brightly and stared at him for a moment. You then turned and surveyed your surroundings. "This is nice, where are we?"

"Lover's Lake," Eddie answers offhandedly, then realizes his mistake as your head pops back and you look at him with wide eyes. "Not that I...that's just what it's called because it's shaped like a heart!

"Not that I wouldn't, because you look...but not that I would because this is just...we're just hanging out. This isn't a date or anything. Right?"

Fuck.

Kyle was not gonna let him hear the end of this.

Eddie was so caught up in his own misery that he missed the disappointed fall of your expression.

"No, that's fine, I get it," you chuckled lightly. "It's still really nice. We don't really have something like this back home. Well, the lake lake, and there are like...forest preserves, but it's not...nature, you know? Not like this."

"Furthest out of Hawkins I've ever been is Indianapolis," Eddie admitted. "So no, I guess I don't."

"Well I've never even been to Indianapolis and never left Illinois before coming here," you explained. "So I guess we're in the same boat. Maybe I'll get to show you where I'm from some day. Show you a real pizza tour."

"Hey, don't knock Lou's 'til you try it," Eddie teased.

"Thank you Eddie, tonight's been really great," you said sincerely.

"It has, hasn't it," he agreed. "So next Sunday?"

"Yeah?" you laugh. "What do you have in mind?"

You started eating as you discussed plans for the next weekend, and more talk of music as it's now Eddie's turn to give you shit for the tapes you had with you. You mentioned a few things about your own family, not going nearly as in-depth as Eddie did about his mother, but enough for him to get the gist.

And then Eddie opened the box of cannoli you had gotten and handed one to you, before taking one of his own.

"To new friends and Sunday nights," he offered as a toast.

"New friends and Sunday nights," you repeated.

---

Next Part: Standard Operating Procedures 1.02

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sally-annesstories · 5 years

Text

Day 37 - Panajachel to San Juan La Laguna, Guatemala

My hardest day to write

1. Despite switching my brain off early I had a rubbish sleep the night before. Barely getting any shut eye. Given I was up at 6.30 by 7 I decided to go for a walk. Pana is small and I quickly covered a lot of ground. It was nice walking with less people around. Although sadly there were way less stalls at this time. I was craving some fruit but nowhere I went could I fine any. Finally I was in a small shop which didn't have fruit but did have a grocery section. As I looked I spotted baby food. Figuring pureed mango and apple was more nutritious than a bag of doritos I opted for that. Quite smart of me I thought, baby food must be semi reasonable.

2. Back at the hostel others were getting up and keen for breakfast. We opted for a womans restaurant which is owned and operated only by females. A big deal in Guatemala.

3. A boat ride to San Juan. Tonight we are staying on the lake again but this time at a homestay. The lake, similar to Antigua is beautifully flat with all the volcanoes surrounding it. The boat ride was relatively chill. The boat being less fancy than maybe ones I'm used to was a a bit noisy. Three quarters of the way through we slowed down and stopped. Not sure what was happening - turns out we'd run out of petrol! There we were floating away until another boat bought over a petrol tank. Given they drive the lake so often, you would think they'd check theu have enough gas to get anywhere before leaving. Anyway eventually made it safe and sound!

4. On arrival we met our homestays and went to their homes to drop off our things. I'll come everything off related to this at point 5. Once without our gear we went into town to visit the different creatives and ways of life at San Juan La Laguna. These were a honey farm, a chocolate workshop, a church, a textiles spot, an artist's and finally a medicine farm. At each the workers told us about what they did there. It was nice and interesting although I probably didn't come across like I was enjoying it. After no sleep the night before I was dead. Everytime we sat down I was nodding off. Oops, but I also knew I needed to be awake with the family so half attention was all I could give.

5. Ok to the family. So when we first arrived a member of each family was waiting. We wrote our names next to a name on a piece of paper and this determined where we'd stay. We walked with our homestay mum to her home. It is something so different to what we consider a house back in NZ. On arrival there is a front room with a wee store. This is selling odds and ends and snacks. It has a door on the alley way as well as into the yard. We walk in through to the yard. The yard is small and oblong shape. Grass on the right with a few trees growing and sticks/twigs piled up indicating they'll be used for fires. On the right side there are two rooms. Both square one with two single beds (where we will be staying) and their bedroom which I couldn't see inside. She has two children, Mildred who is 13 and a two year old son. She is married but quickly learned her husband works in Guatemala City and is only home twice a month. The kitchen is outside and consists of a brick over (this uses the sticks for cooking/fire). The back wall from their bedroom is on one side and pots and pans hang on this. The tin roof extends over this area with tarpaulins covering two other 'walls', the rest remaining open. There is a toilet and shower. Each is a square about 1m x 1m with three concrete walls (one splits the two rooms), there is a draped sheet offered as a door. The daughter sleeps down the road at her aunts. was lucky to be staying with another girl who spoke Spanish so she would chat and translate for me. The family we were staying with was really poor. The father earns 40Q a day (8NZD) for 8 hours work and he cant be with the family. They have been hosting people for 4 months and it's how they put food on the table. The woman handmakes scarves to be sold at markets. The one she was doing when we were there would take 3 days and would be sold for 125Q (25NZD). She also put the shop in the front room. Despite this tough life she and the children were so happy. Before dinner Synovve spent alot of time speaking to her and I played with the kids. Mildred could speak a minor amount of English so between her English and my minimal Spanish we got by. The little boy was very easy to keep happy and we played kicks and other games with toys (some of which were in a fairly dire state.

The woman talked about how she wanted to move to the USA but her husband does not. To go there you need to walk for 1-2 months. Given it's illegal you would pay someone who knows how to cross the border 100,000 Q per person. Noting how much they earn gathering this as cash is near impossible. Instead you put a mortagage on your home. Then you hope it all goes to plan, when you arrive in the USA you have nothing but then if you don't and go back to Guatemala you also have nothing. It's not nice to think of the other options here. We helped with dinner prep, I was rubbish at making tortillas and so stopped after dropping the batter while I made one. Don't want to waste anything here! We noticed there wasn't much food originally thinking they must have already eaten. Sadly that was not the case! When she plated up she served us 3x more than what they served for themselves. Our food was on what I'd consider a dinner plate and theres was on a wee bread plate. I felt sick. I decided best not to eat all on my plate as likely they take leftovers for the next meal. I didn't like the thought of me eating more than them. Also they had 3 plates served, turns out this was one of the nights of the year that dad came home. It was a long weekend hence he was back. After dinner we were asked if we wanted to go to bed. We agreed realizing they would want to all catch up as a family. Before hitting the hay we did do the dishes. Once in our room the beds didn't have sheets on them but rather fleece blankets. On the corner of one a World Vision badge was sewed in. How different to be where the world vision donations are made rather than where the funds are collected.

Just brings home how lucky we are to even just be from NZ / a fully developed country.

Tally:

Minimum wage in NZ: 17.70NZD

Living hourly wage in NZ: 21.15NZD

Minimum hourly wage Guatemala: 2.80NZD

Hourly wage the father was getting: 1.08NZD

< Q amount translated to NZD based on FX at time of writing. Hard to find a minimum wage for Guatemala by hours but websites I was indicted 2,500 Q a month so just averaged that on 4.5 weeks and a 40 hour week. The wage the father told me is less than 'minimum wage'. He said it was hard to find work and because there can be some corruption, I beleive he was true in his daily rate (which I took down to hours). It could've been post tax.

NZ living wage taken from https://www.livingwage.org.nz/about

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