Elusive Dreaming

Their undying love was like a forever careless whisper. You read before your book was rudely slammed against the counter. "What do you want, Harrington?" You ask sarcastically with a tinge of irritation. "You still owe me a favor, correct?" He asked done checking something. He looked like a five-year-old on sugar. In fact, you did from an incident in which you just needed to be away from home."Yes I still dreadfully do," you replied rolling your eyes. "I need you to come with me. Robin can cover your shift." Steve stated, "What no, you could murder me or some shit!" You backfired knowing damn well you had levels over him. "Fuck it let's go," you say giving into his puppy dog stare. It reminded you of a child who once came in at Scoops Ahoy before the mall burned down. The kid begged their mom for ice cream. They wanted mint chips and the look they gave her melted her worse than the ice cream. Driving to a remote cabin in the woods near a lake. "You said you weren't going to kill me, Harrington." You sarcastically reminded him."I'm not alright," Steve began to get irritated with your little remarks. Arriving at the scene you notice this is where Reefer Rick used to live before he got locked up. Keeping your mouth shut and your head down you followed Steve inside the boat house. They were the fugitive lamb from the world. Sitting inside a canoe stuffing his face full of dried cereal and chocolate drink. "This is the favor I asked for. You will be watching Eddie as well figure a way to get him out of this situation." Steve explained. You knew he didn't murder Chrissy Cunningham, she was too much of a warm fluffy blanket of a person. Eddie was also a runner, not a fighter. "Fine, I'll babysit the fugitive for a while," you joked agreeing with the deadliest stares coming from everyone else. They must have been wondering how you could joke at a time like this. "Well you two have fun and we will be back soon." Robin said slapping her hands against her legs in exasperation. Eddie still sitting in the canoe decided to get up as they left. "Alright let's just get the boring shit out of the way and set a few boundaries." Eddie proposed walking in a manor. More or less he was pacing back and forth. "One, stay low clearly." Eddie said, "Two, no telling anyone I'm here, and you're here." He told you. "No shit Sherlock that goes with number one and maybe I don't know I want to not get caught and thrown in the slammer for harboring a fugitive Eddie." You inform him of your thoughts and opinions. "Lastly, no sex or sleeping with each other." Eddie ended. "One gross and two what about and two what about platonic sleeping not that it matters or anything." Your breathing uncomfortably speeds up along with your heart rate as you mutter the last part. For years of being friends with Eddie in junior high, you think he would remember you. "No, I only did that with-" Eddie started "with your childhood best friend." You finished cutting him off. "How did you know that?" Eddie asked, alarmed. "I don't know Sir Prince Edward Munson, I just do." You laugh as you use his old nickname. “Oh, my fucking god how did I not notice it was you!” Eddie exclaimed, expressing positive emotion. Something so beautiful and rare in a time like this.You didn't want to tell him you knew based on his body language. Miles apart your heart races to long for your best friend. Summer nights sat by a campfire telling awful ghost stories with Eddie. Other friends had many other things like a new hobby. The smell of his mother’s perfume as it rubbed off his clothes before he left the house. You didn’t even notice how the B-side of your record began to skip when you left until now. As it played not so perfectly. One thing for certain: the old white picket fence was gone and Eddie Munson was a wanted man on the run for a crime he didn’t commit. Granted it had been years since you last spoke to Eddie however, he still had the same glimmer in his soft chocolate brown eyes. Some might have told you he was a freak. Others may have told you he was the devil reincarnate. But to you, he was a child scared and alone at the age of twenty he had no idea who he wanted to be certainly not this. Eddie needed to shower something he hadn’t done in days. Steve packed the same style of clothes for Eddie and made it clear he should shower. The ripe smell of body odor and weed was his scent at this point. He was anxious you could tell because of the way he bites on the inside of his cheek. He is scared, pissed off, and alone. “Do you ever get the feeling a summer’s secret shouldn’t be stored in a winter jacket?” Eddie asked, exiting the bathroom. Noticed the fact you were zoned out. He had an old shirt you took with you. It was too big for the both of you but it helped keep you closer to him as your best friend.The shirt was a memory ready to be clutched in between your slender fingers as the anxiety of growing up had been at an incline. “Eddie the lining of a winter’s coat isn’t ever the best place to hide all of your summer secrets.” You reply standing up to walk over to him in the kitchen. After waiting about half an hour you two had previously walked in from the boat house. Eddie had left the house a mess with evidence scattered around the house. “You still have the shirt dear,” Eddie pointed out, noticing the faded worn-out logo printed on the front. “Yeah, how could I let go.” You told him to jump up onto the black countertop. He watched as the fabric still engulfed your body draping over your denim shorts. “I remember after that trip we were both pouring sand from our insoles for weeks.” Eddie remained leaning against the other counter. “When did you get the bats on your collarbone, Eddie?” You are tired of the memories that ended what felt like so long ago. “Last year, I think around the time of the festival.” Eddie said as he looked down at his chest. He was shirtless still and his curls were still a bit damp. Each water-cold droplet raced to the end of a strand of curls. “As much as I get judged in school and in this dungeon of a town I always remember words you used to write and the songs you used to sing. I hoped one day you would come back to me.” Eddie admitted to fidgeting with his rings. Ultimately you could have bottled it all up and stayed in the moment. However, you pulled him closer. Using your feet around his legs and your fingers looped in his belt loops. “Eddie Munson, I tried to forget about you sometimes. The beach with him was never the same. As he looked into my eyes he couldn’t read them as you can. I may be in trouble for harboring a fugitive but at least it’s you.” Spilling your thoughts pent-up emotions rattled throughout your body it felt nice to get the overwhelming story off your chest finally. “I still carry the under-exposed picture of you holding my hand that night.” Eddie murmured, embracing you in a warm hug. “I still have the songs you wrote for me, I still have the memories.” You tell him never wanting to let go of the hug. Every song he wrote began in ellipses. Thinking if Chrissy Cunningham hadn’t died this would have never happened. Both of your souls would forever be tangled. Worse than a box of lights during the holiday season. Handing you the pictures his fingers clutched around the paper. It was nice to know the fugitive he would always be was an old friend who never truly meant any harm.Tattooed on his arm was the quote you used to believe in as a kid. “It’s not what you are like. It is what you are like as a person.”