Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Okay, that’s enough for today.” A figure moves to stand in front of the group, clapping her hands. Some let out a sigh of relief as others wipe sweat from their brows. A few run towards the bench to grab a drink. “Good job. I’ll see you all back here on Monday.” Everyone slowly gathers their belongings, talking about plans for the weekend or the usual chatter that goes on. 

As cheer captain, Chrissy’s always the first to show up and the last to leave. No exceptions. Anything less would look bad and it’s her job to keep everyone on track and motivated. 

After all, these upcoming games are important. The Tigers have a good chance of winning the basketball championship this time. Hawkins High School might finally break its twenty-two-year losing streak and the cheerleading squad needs to rally them from the sidelines along the way.

“Have a good night, guys.” She smiles brightly while the team members make their way out into the hall. The hands at her sides pinch at the green fabric of her pleated skirt, waiting for the stragglers to get going. Blue eyes dart towards the clock on the wall, then back to the two girls talking and fiddling with their bags. A pristine white sneaker taps against the smooth floor impatiently, trying to get the message across without being rude. 

Message delivered. 

It only takes the two a few seconds to grab their things and leave, running into their friends waiting right outside for them. The laughter and noise from the gaggle of cheerleaders dies down when the door closes, leaving only one person left in the large room. 

The smile on her face disappears. There's no point wearing that if no one's around to see it. Striding over to the bench, she tosses the shiny green and yellow pompoms onto the floor and takes a seat. Everything aches. Each movement has the sore muscles in her arms and legs screaming at her but she has to ignore them for now.

Letting out a deep sigh, Chrissy glances down at the green HHS across the front of her cheerleading outfit. Graduation isn’t too far away. This chapter in her life is shortly coming to a close. If the Tigers get far in the championships, she has maybe a month and a half left of events to attend as cheer captain. 

‘It’s all happening so fast now.’

Tryouts for next season's team begin in the spring. This time, it will be her successor choosing who joins the team. Amber. A junior with a lot of enthusiasm for the role seemed like the best choice to fill the shoes she’s leaving behind. 

‘My replacement.’

It’s not an easy pill to swallow. Growing up and moving on is inevitable. Everyone goes through it eventually. Just like Amber will need to pick someone new to take her place this time next year.

“Oh no.” Pushing off the bench, she snatches the pink bookbag and pompoms off the floor. The day still isn’t over yet, unfortunately. There are things to do and she can’t be late.

The halls of Hawkins High are empty by the evening. Most after-school clubs and teams have already gone home at this point. All that’s normally left are the janitors pushing mops around while cleaning up any messes left behind by students. 

However, the basketball team must’ve lost track of time… again. 

This isn’t the first time and won’t be the last, especially with Jason as captain. Practice should’ve ended over a half-hour ago, yet she can clearly hear the voices and sounds of sneakers squeaking against the gym floor coming through the doors.

‘They’re still at it.’

With everyone gone, the dark classrooms and dim lighting make this building seem so much creepier than during the day. Even the colorful, cheery posters for events and motivational quotes hanging on the walls do little to help. There are more pressing issues at hand. Enough to keep any fear in check. 

Chrissy paces back and forth, trying to overcome the dread steadily building up inside. Every few minutes, her gaze reluctantly shifts to the clock right above the entrance. That only makes it worse. Time keeps ticking on and there’s nothing to do to stop it. Going in to pressure them to finish up isn’t an option. That’ll only upset Jason. He’ll say she embarrassed him in front of his teammates. 

‘What should I do? I’m already late.’

The cheer captain’s stomach twists into knots like a nest of snakes lives in there. Staying in one place is a struggle with the anxiety pulsing through her body but she tries anyway. One arm wraps around her chest as the other comes up so she can chew on her nails in a self-soothing gesture. 

A bad habit. One of many. 

“Hey… You okay?”

She jolts and whirls around, taking a few clumsy steps back until her bookbag presses up against the wall. A gasp leaves her lips as she stares wide-eyed at the person standing a couple of feet away. 

“Oh.” Chrissy sighs in relief, suddenly feeling like the biggest fool in the world. There wasn’t some monster or serial killer scouring the halls for teens careless enough to stay after the sun went down. That was her imagination acting up again. It's just another student hanging around for God knows what. 

‘Is he talking to me?’

A dumb question. Still, she glances around to see if anyone else is in the vicinity. Nope. They’re alone out here with only the shouts and noises of basketballs bouncing from the gym filling the air. There’s no doubt about it now. He is talking to her. Now what? 

Chrissy mindlessly bites her bottom lip while the shaggy-haired man stares at her. Eddie Munson. The person Jason is always butting heads with. Have they ever talked before? She can’t remember. Probably not. 

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” He takes a step back with his hands slightly raised as if trying to put her at ease by adding more space between them. A dingy, old lunch pail hangs off his thumb by its handle, slightly moving along with him. There’s a strange look on his face. A mix between apologetic and concerned. That body language. It's similar to the way a person would approach a frightened animal. Is that how she looks? Like she’ll bolt any second if he makes any sudden movements? Something about that bothers her. 

“No, it’s fine. I’m just a little jumpy.” She laughs it off with a wave and tries to slip the mask back on without making it too obvious. Different excuses race through her mind in hopes of finding something that sounds normal. “I think I’ve been watching too many horror movies recently. Not a great idea since I’m a bit of a scaredy-cat.” She smiles shyly, shrugging her shoulders. 

“Don’t worry. I don’t think guys like Michael Myers or Freddy Krueger would have any interest in this town. You should be safe, even as a… you know.” He motions towards her uniform, the corner of his mouth curling up. A ‘cheerleader’. The type of character that gets murdered early on in a movie. 

“Yeah, that's true.” Chrissy tucks a stray lock behind her ear, turning her gaze towards the floor. It makes this a little easier. One thing she always thought about Eddie is that he’s intimidating. That’s enough to avoid him by itself. The tattoos, hair, chains, and clothing only add to it. And his behavior? Shocking. A loud, unruly guy who does whatever he pleases without a care in the world.

‘Please, go away.’ 

Would he get angry if she said that out loud? Is there a polite way to get out of this situation without looking rude? What does he want? Another stress rears its ugly head. If Jason suddenly comes out into the hall. He despises Eddie ‘the freak’. He might pick a fight or be mad she talked to him. She doesn’t have the time to deal with any of that. 

“Anyway… It looked like something was wrong so I wanted to see if you were okay.” His voice is a little softer. Very different from the confrontational ranting she’s used to hearing in the cafeteria. He leans forward a bit, tilting his head to the side. 

‘Oh, he’s expecting a response.’

This should be easy. There’s always a list loaded and ready. That’s the norm. It doesn’t need to be true, just enough to satisfy the person asking questions. Isn’t that what her mother taught her? 

Chrissy opens her mouth to answer yet nothing comes out. The words ‘of course’ and ‘yes’ are simple to say. She’s said it to countless people over the years. Why is this so difficult now? Little beads of sweat form along her temples as she tries to ignore the lump forming in her throat. 

'Say something! Anything. Get this over with and then maybe he’ll leave.’

Even without glancing up, she can feel those dark eyes staring at her. Studying her. Looking straight into her. How unnerving. A small voice inside whispers that it’s useless. Somehow, he’ll know it's a bunch of bull. She can’t bring herself to look at his face and focuses on anything else except that. Like the large, heavy rings on his fingers. Or the chain connected to his belt loop. The sleeves of that leather jacket he’s always wearing, then the denim vest with pins and patches on it. Her eyes eventually land on the red, devilish creature on the front of his club shirt. 

Yeah... If she’s going to open up to someone, it won’t be this guy. Jason doesn’t even get that much and they’re dating. 

“I’m fine. Just waiting for my ride.” The sides of her mouth pull up like they’re attached to strings as she finally meets his gaze, motioning towards the gym door. That should be enough. 

Eddie stands there and says nothing, still staring. He blinks a few times before his brow furrows. The longest minute that ever existed slowly slinks by in silence. After what feels like an eternity, he lazily nods and turns around, walking away. 

“Sure you are, Cunningham.”

“Sorry, Chris. I was in the zone and didn't check the time. We need all the practice we can get with the South Bend game coming up.” Jason explains, holding the door open for her. “It'll pay off. This is going to be the big year.”

A blast of cold air hits the couple the moment they step outside. Chrissy quickly hugs herself, trying to fight off the shivers threatening to wrack her body. The uniforms for cheerleading are terrible for this time of year and the jackets are no better. Thin material that would be fine for spring but early February in Indiana? No way. Not changing into different clothes was a big mistake. 

“I get it. Believe me… It’s just that my dad’s going to be—”

“Your dad needs to lighten up. He’s too strict sometimes.” There’s a sharpness to his tone as a frown forms on his face. He’s not happy. She needs to do something to change that. 

“You’re right. It’ll be okay. Let's focus on the next game.” She smiles at him warmly, hoping that’ll put him in a better mood. A good way of doing that is by talking about basketball. As captain, he’s very proud of how far they’ve come this year. As he should. They’re the pride of Hawkins High. “The team’s climbing up the ranks, and that is what’s most important.”

He smirks, throwing an arm around her shoulder as they walk through the school parking lot. It’s so warm. That only makes the rest of her feel even colder. She quietly eyes the thick varsity jacket he’s wearing longingly. Not going to happen. There’s only one person allowed to don that jacket and it’s Jason Carver. End of discussion. 

‘Well, it’s my fault for not changing. He shouldn’t be cold because of me.’

The car is further out than necessary. Parking away from everyone else will lessen the chances of someone accidentally messing up the ‘84 Jeep Cherokee his father bought him. A simple bump from another door will leave a scratch on the black paint. At least, that’s what he says. 

“Tch.” His lip curls up in disgust. The arm across her shoulders suddenly tightens, along with the rest of his body from the agitation surging through him. “What is the freak up to?” 

Looking in the same direction, Chrissy sees a tall form leaning up against a wall, smoking a cigarette. There’s no doubt it’s Eddie. The hair and clothes give him away immediately. What is he still doing here? It’s not like he’s waiting for a ride. The infamous van he drives around like a maniac is still here. They already passed it. Maybe meeting someone? Is he waiting to do one of those ‘deals’?

‘It’s none of my business.’

“I don’t know what the hell that weirdo is looking at.” Jason bites out angrily. The hold on her is becoming uncomfortable. 

“Maybe he sees you looking at him?” 

“No. I looked over because I could feel someone staring. That jerk knows what he’s doing.” She’s sure he wanted to call Eddie all kinds of colorful names. If they weren't together right now, that would definitely happen.  

“Forget about him. Please. Let’s just get in the car and go. You don’t need any trouble with the games coming up.” Sticking out her bottom lip, she tries to put on her best pouty face. The one he thinks is cute. Truth be told, he’s already made her late enough as it is and the last thing she needs is for them to waste more time here over something silly. 

Jason clicks his tongue in annoyance, yet concedes. “He’s lucky I have things to do.” It worked. Pulling his arm away—and sadly taking the warmth with it—he keeps walking, fishing around for the keys in his pocket. 

With his attention elsewhere, Chrissy takes the chance to glance back toward the building for a second. Her eyes widen by a fraction. It’s true. Eddie is staring at them. Why? The emotions she felt in the hallway earlier bubble up again. No, not here. That needs to be packed away for later when no one else is around. 

Shaking it off, she jogs the rest of the way to the car and forces herself not to look back again. There’s enough to deal with as it is without needing to add any more.

‘Separate Ways’ from Journey plays on the radio and for once, the cheer captain is glad it’s so loud. The music helps distract from the racing thoughts. If she can barely even hear herself think, then the intrusive words will have a harder time surfacing. 

Focusing on the lyrics, Chrissy bites the inside of her mouth and peers at Jason from the side. He’s in a much better mood now. Their destination finally comes into view after turning down another street. Home. A large white house with a big yard. Along the side is a driveway that leads to a garage. Most of the ones in this area are very similar. Right away, she eyes the dark Mercedes Benz out front and feels her stomach churning. 

Turning off the music, Jason pulls up to the curb, parking beneath a streetlight. Their usual spot. “Sorry about earlier.” He sighs, running a hand through his dirty blond hair. No matter what, it always falls back right into place. As if the hair itself can’t accept anything less than perfection. Just like the rest of him. 

“Don't worry about it. Besides, I really appreciate you driving me home. It’s sweet.” 

“It’s no problem. Anything for you, Chris.” A boyish grin shows off those perfectly straight white teeth. Leaning over, he cups her cheek, caressing the soft skin with his fingers as he stares at her lips. A breath hitches in her throat, knowing what he has in mind. “You’re so pretty” 

Jason closes the distance between them and kisses her lightly. This isn't the time or place. They’re right in front of her house. Someone might see them and tell her dad. Word spreads around fast in a small town. Everyone already knows they're together. A little make-out session in the Jeep can be twisted into something else though. 

Still, Chrissy doesn’t stop him. She closes her eyes and lets him deepen the kiss, trying to forget what’s waiting outside. The hand on her cheek slides into the strawberry blonde locks hanging loosely along the side of her face as the other begins to explore. He’s becoming more insistent, and there’s no longer any room to move away. All that’s left is the frosted widows pressed up against her shoulders. How far does he plan on taking this? It’s moving faster than usual. There’s a sense of urgency that's startling and she’s not sure what to do. 

“Make sure you keep him happy.”

Even if it means that? That can’t be right. It doesn’t feel that way. Not at this very second, at least. 

Alarm bells go off when his hand touches her thigh, the tips of his fingers slowly inching upward. They keep going until they’re far enough to graze the edge of the panties beneath her pleated skirt. Too far, too fast. She sucks in a sharp breath and pushes at his shoulders, trying to get him to back off. 

“What’s wrong?” Jason pulls away, already flushed and panting. He already knows what’s going to happen now. The disappointment is written all over his face. It leaves her with a sharp pang of guilt. 

“I’m sorry. It’s just… We’re right out front of my house. My dad might see and it’s already late and I’m going to be in trouble. And I—” The excuses keep piling up and flowing out. Maybe one of them will lessen the blow of rejection. This is awful. She is awful. It takes a second for her to stop rambling off a list before the Jeep suddenly becomes too quiet. He leans back in his seat and lets out a deep, exasperated sigh. 

“Always something.” He says it under his breath but she catches it. That hurts. A little more than expected. 

“I’m really sorry. I’ll make it up to you.” Chrissy blurts out. She feels the need to fix this. To somehow appease him. Anything that doesn’t involve crossing that line right now. That seems to grab his attention. He throws her a side glance and arches his eyebrow. “I promise.” 

Mentally, she’s kicking the hell out of herself right now. What exactly will this ‘promise’ involve? And how long until it has to be fulfilled? This is another hole she’s digging that keeps getting deeper and deeper. 

“Okay.” His lips pull back into a firm line as he looks down at the steering wheel. Despite the letdown, there’s also begrudging acceptance. “Go ahead. If your dad’s angry… Blame it on me. He can call my parents if there's a problem. They’ll back me up about practice.” 

“Thanks.” With a quick peck on the cheek, she scoops up the belongings off the floor next to her feet and hops out of the Jeep. This sucks. Why do there have to be issues on this front as well?

“Chris,” Jason calls out before the door shuts. She pauses, wondering what he wants to say now. “I got a little carried away.” With an awkward shift in the driver’s seat, the muscles along his jaw tense up and he grabs the wheel. “I’ll call you later. Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight,” she says softly, shutting the car door. What a way for them to end the night. Not wanting to waste any more time, she skips the walkway altogether and dashes across the lawn. The Jeep’s still parked beneath the streetlight when she reaches the porch. He always waits until she gets in before leaving. That only intensifies the guilt. 

'Am I a bad girlfriend?’

Shaking off the thought while unlocking the front door, Chrissy takes a deep breath and slowly creeps inside, trying to make as little noise as possible. That part is easy. She carefully puts down her bookbag and hangs up the white cheerleading jacket on a hook. 

“Chrissy.” The angry tone causes her to flinch. 

His hearing is good. The hardwood floor in the foyer always gives it away, no matter how quiet she is. The boards near the entrance creak under the slightest bit of weight. There’s no avoiding it now. Hanging her head, she makes her way past the staircase and down the hall, stopping right outside of his study. 

“Do you know what time it is?” The older man takes off his reading glasses when she comes into view, laying them down on his desk. Paperwork, a stack of files, newspapers, notepads, and stationery covers the wide, polished surface. Everything he needs to continue working at home. 

“Yes, after seven. Sorry.” Biting the inside of her lip, she can’t help noticing the dark circles beneath his eyes are more pronounced than before. Is he staying up all night doing paperwork? 

“You know what I’m going to say. I don't like repeating myself.” The look on his face is enough to freeze her on the spot. A cold mix of disappointment and disdain. A few years ago, seeing an expression like that on him would be unimaginable. It’s all too frequent these days. And only getting worse.  

“I didn’t mean to. Jason’s practice took longer than expected. It won’t happen again.” Her voice sounds as small as she feels. He’s always been strict but things have changed. What used to be a minor inconvenience now ends up completely blown out of proportion. Some days he’s too wrapped up in matters to care. Others? It’s like walking on eggshells. Or through a field of landmines. 

“Guess it can’t be helped, then." Tearing his gaze away from her, he focuses on the paperwork on the desk, quietly rubbing his chin in thought. “The boy has championships coming up. If they win, it'll be in the papers... Should be good for business. I have to remember to call John...” 

‘Is he talking to himself again?’

Today doesn’t seem to be a landmine day. Bringing up Jason and basketball might’ve helped with avoiding that. 

“Go start dinner. It's already late. You still have chores and homework to do.” He waves her off, picking up a pen and diving back into his papers. Anything to keep busy.

Steam spills out into the air when the bathroom door opens. Chrissy hums a little tune as she pads across the soft carpet, dabbing the excess moisture from her hair with a towel. It’s already eleven. Thankfully tomorrow is a Saturday. A welcome chance to sleep in longer with no obligations to worry about. 

There’s no getting up at five in the morning to prepare for the day. Hair, make-up, checking any homework, getting in more studying if there’s a test, making breakfast… Only to go to school and deal with classes, make the rounds with friends, then cheerleading. When that’s done, she comes home, cooks dinner, does the dishes, works on homework, studies, takes a shower, lays her clothes out for the next day, and goes to sleep. 

An endless routine that has little room for spontaneity. God forbid if she falls off the beaten path. It’s all been laid out for her already. The monotony of this rigid structure makes it so the days blend into each other, almost like a continuous loop of the same twenty-four hours. 

‘I…’

An image catches the corner of her eye. The long mirror hanging on the wall. It’s been there since elementary school. Appearances are everything. That’s what her mother instilled in her. More like hammered it into her brain like a railroad spike. There’s not a day that goes by without spending personal time with this thing. 

Standing in front of it, Chrissy throws the towel on the floor and stares at the reflection in nothing but her bra and panties. It’s the best way to study the figure looking right back. She swallows hard, observing every visible dip and curve. Or lack thereof. 

Slim fingers slowly hover over the pale skin of her abdomen before gently touching it. The tips ghost along the surface, feeling the grooves of her ribs. They don’t protrude the same way they used to before. There’s no one here to constantly monitor food intake or count calories anymore. 

“No.” Everything looks wrong. All wrong. Shaky hands reach up to cup her breasts, feeling the weight of them in her palms. Too small. Way too small. There’s not enough here to satisfy anyone. Hips? Not wide enough. These legs and arms are too skinny. Lips aren’t plump enough. Eyes are too big. Same with her teeth. She’s short. It’s all wrong. 

Even though her weight isn’t at a worrisome low anymore and she’s been doing good, there are still so many issues. Different ones, yet it all comes back to what's in the mirror. This body isn’t womanly enough. If she ever crosses that line with Jason, this alone might run him off. If not, it’ll only be a matter of time until he wants something… more. More feminine. Fuller. Healthier. 

Chrissy sucks in her quivering bottom lip and silently curses the girl in the reflection. Pathetic. How is that person supposed to carry so much? All the while being the best version of herself for everyone to see? Can she do it? 

Her face twists into a grimace from thinking about what’s going on. Classes, grades, practices, pep rallies, making sure the team is prepared. Trying to stay socially relevant by peppering in get-togethers and the rare party without messing up the nice, clean image she’s built up over the years. 

Everyone wants too much. Expect the world of her. Even Jason holds her up on a pedestal most of the time. They’re a ‘match made in heaven'. It was only natural. A handsome boy from a well-off family. The top basketball player for their school with so much potential. Of course he’d need an equally matched counterpart. Their parents were thrilled with the prospect.

The road ahead is already laid out for them. When school is over, they’ll get married and settle down. Jason will walk in his father’s footsteps by taking over the company. She’s meant to become a good wife and mother who continues cheering for him from the sidelines. A career is fine as long as it doesn’t interfere with building their precious little family. Continuing the Carver legacy while tying it to the Cunninghams. 

‘I can’t.’

It’s necessary. After all, Chrissy is the Cunningham’s daughter. Their only child. Jason Carver’s girlfriend. The cheer captain for Hawkins High. The popular girl who’s sweet and smart and pretty. Always knows what to do and say. Is more than willing to help out. Kind. Cute. Loyal. Outgoing. Perfect. There’s no way this can go wrong as long as she sticks to the plan. It’s everything her parents wanted for her. 

“Chrissy, you don’t want your mother to be disappointed, do you? What do you think she’d say if she was here?”

But what about what she wants? Does it even matter? 

‘Nothing but a people-pleaser.’ 

Turning away from the mirror, Chrissy flops down on the soft duvet covering her bed. She’s too sore and tired to care about changing into pajamas. It doesn’t matter, anyway. Rolling over, she snatches a pillow and hugs it tightly against her body. It’s moments like these where she needs something to hold on to. Anything that’ll stop her from cracking and breaking apart. 

Tears prick her eyes and she squeezes them shut, hoping to stave them off a little longer. This can’t continue. If it keeps going, something bad might happen… 

“Hey… You okay?” 

When is the last time someone asked that? And meant it? It’s been too long. Perhaps Eddie was being nice and none of that actually matters. Still, he had no reason to even bother. Did she look that troubled? Must have. What did he see in that hallway that pushed him to say something? To be honest, the entire interaction was unsettling. That look… Even when she tried playing it off. No one else ever seemed so openly doubtful of her words. Her lies. It might be best to avoid him. Someone like that will just cause trouble. 

‘No, I’m not okay. No one’s allowed to know that…’ 

Chapter Text

Looking down at her lunch tray, Chrissy eyes the food with disinterest. The peas in the top corner get a halfhearted jab from her fork as she pushes them around. They’re soft. Mushy. Straight out of a can and left in a pot of water for too long. She’s not going to eat them anyway. No one really does. 

“Chris? Earth to Chris?" The brunette sitting across the table leans forward, waving a hand in her face. Oh yeah. Not the time to be zoning out while playing with food. "Well?"

“Yeah, that would be so sweet! Go for it.” She smiles widely, getting back on her game. Distantly, she could hear Charlotte talking about wanting to do something special with her boyfriend for their six-month anniversary. It’s not like she’s entirely gone. Part of her is still here. 

“Really? I’m glad you think so too. I was a little worried it’s a bit too much, you know?” Charlotte giggles, kicking her feet under the table. To feel so excited over a milestone that she can barely contain herself. It’s kind of adorable. 

The other cheerleaders always ask for her opinion. Is this outfit cute? Should we go to this party? What about this boy? When is a good time to go to next base? Is it better to be flirty or play hard to get with this one? And she always does her best to answer them despite not being the best person to get advice from. 

Now, it’s too draining. The reserves of pep and cheeriness are low. Her well is drying up. There doesn’t seem to be anything to change that, either. 

Chrissy takes a deep breath to calm down, hoping to block out all the loud noises coming from every direction. The table she sits at is always too crowded. Friends. Cheerleaders. Jocks. Anyone who matters in the school’s hierarchy. Even some underclassmen hoping to rub elbows with the seniors. Normally, that’s no big deal. She always had to play the part of the social butterfly. It comes with the territory. At the moment, it’s driving her up a wall. 

The last two days were rougher than usual. She could barely sleep all weekend no thanks to her father. All during the night, he paces up and down the halls. Moving things around. Rummaging through old boxes. Not once did she hear his bedroom door close. Asking questions is useless. He either ignores her and keeps going, or comes up with different ways of telling her to get lost.

Something is going on. It’s enough to keep him up at night. Which in turn, is keeping her up too. This is affecting both of them and he won’t give her any answers. Not even a hint. Maybe he made a terrible business choice and is trying to find a way to fix it? An issue with one of his clients? Money problems? Are they in some kind of trouble? The list of possibilities goes on and on. She can’t put her finger on it. Not without some snooping around. Then again, can she handle that right now? 

No. 

Chrissy glances at her lunch, then toward the girls sitting on either side. They’re busy talking. One of them eagerly took over listening to Charlotte’s plans. Perfect. The focus isn’t directly on her at the moment. Quickly and discreetly, she slips some of the fries and chicken nuggets left untouched onto their trays. They can eat it. Just looking at the food is making her queasy and she doesn’t need anyone noticing a full meal being thrown out once the bell rings.

“—and that is why you’re all a bunch of frauds!”

She picks up on the tail end of what must be another rousing lunchtime speech. Jeers and boos come from all over the cafeteria. He’s done it this time. Even the bookworms across the room are angry. 

As expected, Eddie’s standing on top of his chair with that shit-eating grin while one of the senior football players fires back from a nearby table. He always takes it in stride, holding himself confidently and mocking them with his expression alone. That’s what it must look like to genuinely not care what people think. She doesn’t know any other person who insults every group at school with their whole chest and laughs it off. 

A teacher walks by carrying a lunch tray with an exasperated look. The unlucky one put into an unenviable position. She steps to the side to put as much distance between her and the ‘freak table’ as possible, watching the back of Eddie with distaste. “Mr. Munson! Chairs are not meant for standing on. Can you sit down and eat your lunch? Please?” 

“Hmm?” He dramatically turns on the seat, stamping his feet and making extra noise just to rub it in a little more. Ms. Carrigan appears visibly uncomfortable and annoyed with him but as a teacher—an authority figure—she’s expected to say something. “What an object is meant for and how it’s used aren’t always the same. However, since you said ‘please’, I will take your humble request into consideration.” 

“What an asshole. I think someone’s mommy isn’t giving him enough attention at home.” Chance snorts, shaking his head before snatching a nugget from his girlfriend’s tray. She slaps his hand as he reaches for another. 

“Ain’t that the truth? The freak’s loud as hell.” One of the guys sitting behind them leans back in his seat, butting in. The party kids' table. Most of them get along pretty well with the jocks and cheerleaders. After all, they have something in common. Drinking and having fun. The key difference is how often and far they’re willing to go. "Still, he's got good shit. I'll admit that. Took my ass right out."

“Yeah? You think you can get some for tomorrow? We got everything except that.”

Chrissy tries to ignore the conversation going on around her. They’ve been talking about it for days now. Noah’s parents are gone until Thursday, so he’s having a little party at his place… on a Tuesday. The general consensus is that a party on a school night is better than none at all, so whatever. 

Getting alcohol is simple. There’s always someone in the group who has an older sibling or friend willing to buy it for them. A few places in town are willing to look the other way on the ID issue, usually depending on who the kid is. Anything else is a little harder. At least, that’s what she’s heard. 

‘I wonder how many people buy stuff from him?’

The cheer captain scoots closer to the table to get a better view since Chance’s big head is in the way. With how short she is, it’s hard to look over with the others around without making it too obvious. That works. It gives her a clear view of the ‘freak table’. A handful of students from different grades that are most recognizable by those black and white club shirts they often wear.

The Hellfire Club, if she remembers correctly. 

Their leader is back in his seat, no longer addressing the cafeteria with grievances on conformity and raging against authority. He's talking with some underclassmen sitting at the table. She observes him curiously, thinking about the interaction they had on Friday. It’s been stewing in the back of her mind since. There are some questions she'd like to ask but the thought of actually approaching him is too nerve-racking.

‘He’d probably think I’m a weirdo.’

As if having a sixth sense, Eddie looks over and to her horror, makes eye contact. Caught right in the act. She stiffens up, not sure of what to do. He doesn’t turn away or visibly react. Just returns the stare, seemingly unbothered. Cool as a cucumber. That might be even worse than getting one of his ‘what the hell you lookin’ at’ expressions. 

“What about you, Chris? You comin’ tomorrow?” 

“Huh?” The question snaps her out of it. She tears her gaze away from the wild-looking guy across the room and back to the others at her table. 

“Are you coming to Noah's party tomorrow?” Charlotte chimes in, sounding hopeful. The group looks at her expectantly. Everyone who’s anyone in school is going and now she’s being put on the spot. “At least go to this one. The year’s almost over and it'll be harder for us to do stuff like this.” 

She’s not wrong. They’re all graduating in a couple of months. Some are going out of state for college while others will be closer. It’ll still be a hassle to get together. That’s if they don’t have new friend groups by then. Everyone will move on to bigger and better things. She doesn’t feel like going though. Not with what’s happening. 

‘Maybe it’s for the best?’

“We should go, babe.” Chrissy peers up, seeing the guy standing right behind her. Jason leans down to plant a kiss on her forehead. She smiles and grabs his hand, pulling him closer. “I’m sure your dad will be cool with it if he knows I’m driving.” 

“That’s true,” She taps a finger against her chin, feigning deep thought. It’s rare for her to go to parties anymore. That only makes it a bigger deal when she does. Lends it more weight, socially. More people will want to attend if the team captains will be there. “I’ll ask him after practice. If he says yes, I guess I can—”

“Great. Let me know.” He grins, giving her shoulders a light squeeze. “I’ll catch you later. Got to talk with the coach.” 

“Okay.” And with that, Jason leaves. Taking the trash left from his lunch with him. The chatter around the table resumes, filled with excitement for the party tomorrow. It’s not the same for her. This is more like an obligation than anything. A chore. Something to drag herself to and put on a good show so others won’t start asking questions. 

Sighing, she's suddenly drained all over again. Another headache is coming on. She reaches up and gingerly rubs her temples, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure. Everything will be fine. It all works out in the end. Always does. 

Glancing around the cafeteria for a distraction, Chrissy sucks in a sharp breath when she meets those dark eyes once again. Eddie’s still gazing at her from across the room. Was she the only one who quit the staring contest from before? Apparently. It’s the look on his face that confuses her. With his brow furrowed and lips pursed tightly, he doesn’t seem happy in the slightest. 

‘Is he mad? Did I irritate him?’

This time, he’s the one to quit. Eddie leans back in his chair and drags his attention toward the little snack bag in front of him. She can almost hear the ‘hmph’ from looking at his agitated movements. 

‘Yep.’

The black Jeep Cherokee’s parked beneath the streetlight when she reaches the porch. As always. With a warm smile, Chrissy waves at the blond-haired man in the driver’s seat who’s watching to make sure she makes it in safely. It’s sweet for a boyfriend to do that. 

‘I’m lucky to be with him.’

Closing the front door, she kicks off her sneakers and carefully sets down the rest of her belongings. It’s quiet. Really quiet. Not that it’s a bad thing. Better than getting yelled at right off the bat. 

‘Is he still at the office?’

That wouldn’t be surprising. He’s always doing something. If it’s not work-related, then it’s some kind of social event. Whatever helps the family’s standing in the community and keeps their connections strengthened. The balance between the two has changed in the last year and a half, though it’s still a priority. 

She wanders down the hall to see if he’s in his study. From the opening beneath the door, the light is off and it’s locked. Not in there. It’s tempting to go upstairs and relax her aching muscles but there’s no point in putting this off. He normally wants to be left alone when it’s late and is extra cranky in the mornings. 

“Dad?” Chrissy hesitantly calls out as she searches the first floor. The parlor, study, kitchen, pantry. His bedroom and bathroom are empty. All the noise she’s making would definitely get a response by now if he was here. Morning it is, then. Wonderful. Now that’s going to weigh on her mind all night. Jason and the others are expecting an answer and will no doubt want one first thing tomorrow. 

Sauntering past the den, she abruptly stops when something catches her attention. A bright fabric that stands out against the neutral shades her mom decorated the room in. And in all the worst ways. That awful tangerine-colored shirt she’s been itching to toss into the fireplace for a while now. 

‘There he is.’

So, he was here the whole time. Relaxing on the La-Z-Boy recliner in the den with the TV off. That's strange. 

“Dad, why didn’t you—” Something’s not right. Stepping further into the room, she freezes after getting a better look in the dim lighting. Confusion and alarm take over, seeing a beige cloth pressed against his nose with red splotches all over it. “What happened?!” 

Chrissy rushes next to the recliner and kneels down to take a better look. How did he get a bloody nose? The urge to help—to do something—overshadows any other thoughts. She reaches up towards his hand but doesn’t know what to do. What can she do?

'Does he need a doctor? Did he get hurt?’

His eyes flash towards her, then to the mantle above the fireplace lined with picture frames. “Nothing.” He says dismissively. Shifting against the back of the seat, he leans away from her. “Just… go do your homework or something.”

“What?!” The hurt is apparent as he waves her away with his free hand. Is he out of his mind? “Let me help—”

“Chrissy.” She stills from hearing that tone. He’s mad now. “I said, it's nothing. Now go make yourself something to eat or head upstairs. Don’t worry about the chores.” 

“Right. Okay.” Pushing up off the rug, she tries to calm the quivering in her lip and the lump forming below that. It’s probably nothing serious. Another instance of her overreacting. 

“What did you want?” He says tiredly right before she disappears for the night. 

This probably isn’t a good time to ask. Oh well. “I wanted to see if it was okay to go to a little get-together after school tomorrow. Everyone will be there. Jason’s the one who asked me to come. He said he’ll drive me there and back.” 

“Jason? As long as he's with you, fine.” With an exasperated grunt, he settles into the recliner and tilts his head back. It must still be bleeding. "If that's all you wanted, then get going."

“Thanks, Dad,” Chrissy mumbles weakly before rushing out of the den. Aside from the obvious, it’s really odd that he didn’t ask for any details. Who’s going to be there? Where is it at? Are there going to be any adults present? How long? There won’t be alcohol or anything, right? A barrage of questions to deal with that make it almost not worth even trying. 

Trudging up the stairs, she can’t help feeling down. Useless. Completely helpless to change the current situation in this home. He's impossible to talk to anymore. At least there’s something to look forward to now. It’s been a while since she’s gone to a party. 

‘This is good. I should try to make the most of it.’

“Well?” 

“Well, what?” Chrissy murmurs, closing the door of her locker to face the two girls. It should’ve been obvious what this is about. Everything is written all over their faces, especially Natalie, a junior on the squad.

“Come on! What did your dad say about the party?” The redhead questions, squeezing her history book tightly. 

“He said I can go.” The sentence was barely finished before they start jumping and cheering, grabbing onto the sleeves of her jacket. Surprisingly, their enthusiasm is a bit contagious. Her lips curl up into a smile as she joins in on their little celebration. This is nice. Like some of the energy that’s been zapped is slowly coming back. Maybe this will be good for her. “Okay, okay! I’ll see you two at lunch. We can talk more about it then.” It’s hard to pull away from them but she has to. They give each other a hug and part ways. Hopefully this little ball of happiness stays put for a little while longer. 

At the same time every week, she goes down the same route through the halls with one place in mind. Always taking the long way, praying that nobody notices her going through that door. No one knows she comes here. Not even Jason. 

‘Clear.’

The cheer captain keeps her head low to avoid making eye contact with anyone and quickly strides into the room, swiftly shutting the door behind herself. Maybe a little harder than necessary. 

“Ah, Chrissy. Right on the dot.” A woman sitting at the desk smiles, beckoning her to sit down. The guidance counselor. The first thing she always notices about Ms. Kelly is her dark hair. Curly, thick, and full of body. So much volume. "Good morning."

“Morning,” she breathes out, taking a seat on the other side of the desk. Her eyes wander around while deciding how to start this appointment off. The peach walls and blue rug sure are a choice. That thought pops up every Tuesday while sitting here. 

“So, let’s start off with the most important question. How are you feeling today?” Ms. Kelly already has everything prepared. The thick file with Chrissy’s name on it. A pad of paper right in front of her that’s halfway used from all the notes taken during these meetings, and a cup with a dozen pens, pencils, and highlighters. 

“Well,” Her knee starts bouncing involuntarily. “To be honest, not great. The issues I've been having are getting worse and different ones are popping up. I'm not really sure what to do about it.” 

The counselor’s eyebrows draw together as she leans closer to the desk. “Did something happen since our last appointment? Or, can you describe to me what you’re experiencing?”

Chrissy pauses for a moment to figure out how to word this properly. As far as she knows, nothing will leave this room. Ms. Kelly has always been so kind and tries to help the best she can. “I still haven’t been sleeping well. At all. My appetite is basically nonexistent. I don’t feel hungry. Like, I can eat a little here and there but then I feel nauseous after that. I was worried this was a… I don’t know. Subconscious relapse? If that makes sense. And these headaches come out of nowhere—” The tips of her fingers dig into her thigh at the realization that she’s rambling again. 

“You don’t have to stop. Remember what I said before? In this room, you can let it all out. No matter how long it takes. Don’t worry about that. Just tell me everything so I can try to help. We’ll figure this out together, okay?” She says calmly, looking back up to her after jotting down a few notes. 

If only it was that easy. Opening up has always been difficult. Nothing will get better unless she makes an effort. "Okay. So, I also have been getting these headaches out of nowhere. Maybe it’s from not getting enough sleep? Or food? I’m not sure. Normal stuff seems harder to do recently. I think it might have to do with my dad. He’s been acting kind of strange lately.” 

“In what ways?” 

“He, um…” She sucks in her bottom lip. Ms. Kelly knows a lot about the situation with her parents. They’ve been the subject of many appointments over the last two years. This time, it’s a bit embarrassing. Her father has always been a prominent member of the community. What’s been going on recently is very different from being a controlling parent or some name-calling. People could overlook that. The rest can mess with the family’s image if any of this gets out.  

‘But it won’t. It’s fine.'

“My dad’s acting kind of weird. Staying up all hours of the night, digging through old stuff. He might take a nap in the den or his study for a little, then he’s back at it again. Definitely more irritable than usual. You know how he is. I asked him about going to a party and he couldn’t care less. He wanted to be left alone. I don’t know. It’s all so off and he won’t tell me anything. That part isn't out of the ordinary, though.” 

“It sounds like both of you are going through a lot.” The counselor sighs and lays down the pen, clasping her hands together. “There are many layers to this. When a parent is having issues, it eventually starts affecting their child in various ways.” 

‘Dad’s part of the problem? Surprise, surprise.’

“In order to resolve this, your dad might need to reach out as well. One member of a family can’t do all the healing work on their own. It has to be a group effort. I know it must have been very difficult after your mother passed on. Perhaps the accumulated stress from working all the time and bottling everything up the past year and a half is finally taking a toll on him.” 

“Maybe.” She starts chewing on her nail, wondering if that's the case. Is he breaking down? Could that be the reason for the extra helping of misery in the house?

“Here! Have some. It’s so good.”

“No, no! I can’t!” The cheer captain cries, moving her red cup out of the line of fire. 

“Pshht! Fine. More for me.” Charlotte pouts, only to shrug it off and pour more into her own. She won’t stop for anything, even if it means making a mess. Her hips keep moving, swaying to the music as she tries to see how much the cup can hold before spilling over. 

There are more people here than she expected. Most of the sports teams. Party kids. Plenty of juniors and seniors from Hawkins High. College students. Adults she doesn’t know. Everyone packed in and around this home in the heart of Loch Nora.

Red, blue, green, and yellow lights shine down from the ceiling, making the first floor a whirlwind of different colors. Empty bottles of beer, wine coolers, liquor, and mixers line the counters, alongside bowls with chips and other snacks. Two coolers packed with ice sit on the kitchen floor. The lids are left wide open and filled to the brim with more beer and soda cans. 

A large stereo sits in the corner of the living room with a friend of Noah’s leaning against it, making sure no one messes with the tracklist… again. ABBA, Prince, Wham!, Madonna, Michael Jackson, Duran Duran, Queen, Bowie. All the most popular songs blast throughout the house. 

‘I’m glad I came.’

Chrissy takes another sip of the drink she’s been nursing for the last hour. Mostly for appearances. The cup only has soda in it but no one else needs to know that. Some of the other cheerleaders headed straight for the homemade wine coolers, a mix of pricey white wine and 7Up. The spoils from raiding his parent's stash. 

“I love this one!” Amber yells over the music when ‘Love is a Battlefield’ starts playing. Her honey-colored eyes look glassy from throwing back drink after drink. The juniors always overdo it. Probably to show off in front of the seniors and college students. “It–It’s my turn, Chris.” When she grabs her hand, Chrissy goes along with it. Their group has been dancing together for a while now, anyway. Once they start moving, it becomes apparent this isn’t going to be easy. The blonde whips her head around, twisting and turning while keeping an iron-tight grip on the head cheerleader. People standing nearby look over in amusement.

“Okay, okay.” She chuckles, leaning back to avoid getting hit in the face. No one needs a broken nose, especially from a Pat Benatar song. Not on her cheer team. Grabbing onto her wrist, she patiently coaxes the junior into following her movements, so there’s at least some kind of rhythm going on between them. 

“You’re good at this,” Amber shouts when they’re close enough. “I hope I’ll be good at this, too.” The girl runs a hand through her long hair with a frustrated groan. “I don’t think so. It’s a lot… A lot. You’re always… good at this. It’s not fair.” 

‘What the heck is she talking about? Dancing?’

“Come on! Let’s get you some water.” Natalie swoops in and grabs the drunk cheerleader’s hand, attempting to lead her away. The redhead shoots Chrissy an apologetic look as she guides Amber through the throng of partygoers. 

‘That was odd.’

It didn’t seem like it was about dancing. Then again, alcohol can get people to say weird things. This is another reminder of why she doesn’t drink. God knows what would come out if that happened. 

“I need a breather.” She whispers to herself, trying to get to the sliding door that leads outside. It’s hot, stuffy, and too crowded in here. Being short only complicates things. Maneuvering between the moving bodies and furniture is a task in itself. After getting jostled around and almost tripping over a cooler, she finally makes it through the kitchen and to the door. 

The chilly air feels heavenly against her heated skin. Little puffs of fog float up as she sighs, enjoying the change. It’s so dark out now. They must’ve been here for at least two hours by this point. Maybe a little more. Even out back, there are plenty of people hanging around. 

“Chris!” A familiar voice calls out. Turning around, a hand motions for her to come over. Jason is sitting with some guys on patio chairs by a long table. So this is where he disappeared to, along with Noah and a few of the others. 

“This is your girl, Carver?” A dark-haired man says from across the table when she approaches them. He doesn’t go to Hawkins High. Maybe a college student?

“You bet. That’s her all right.” Jason smirks and pats his lap. “Here, sit down.” As soon as she does, an arm snakes around her waist, giving a light squeeze. Satisfied, he goes right back into the discussion they must’ve been having. “Anyway, with regionals coming up soon—”

‘More basketball talk.'

Chrissy can feel her eyes glazing over. There are only so many times a person can hear the same convo before their mind wanders off. It might be more interesting for those not directly involved, but she hears about it on a daily basis. The cheer team goes with them to every single game. Home and away. She knows the schedule and current scores of the season like the back of her hand. 

That reaction is a little disappointing. This is something Jason is genuinely passionate about. It’s her job to cheer him on every step of the way. His wins and losses are also hers. Yet she can’t help looking around instead, tuning them out to the point their voices are little more than muffled background noises. 

‘This was easier before. What’s wrong with me? Maybe I am a terrible girlfriend after all?’

“What’s that?” Another squeeze drags her focus back to him. She raises a brow, not sure what he means. “That.” He taps a finger against the bottom of the cup still grasped in her hand. Speaking low enough so the rest can't hear him.

“It's soda.” 

“Let me get that lighter.” Jonah, one of the party kids from school, gives Noah a nudge and puts his hands out expectantly. The other pulls out what looks like a rolled cigarette. It definitely doesn’t smell like one when he lights it. 

It reeks. 

“C’mon! Puff, puff, pass. Don’t chief it, you goober.” It gets passed from person to person in the row, only skipping ‌over members of the Hawkins basketball team. None of them are dumb enough to try it with their captain sitting there. She can almost hear that silly little saying he’s drilled into them a million times since taking a leadership role. 

“Alcohol’s fine but anything else is crossing the line. Repeat it back to me.”

“Here.” The person sitting beside them reaches out to hand it to her. The pungent, skunky scent is impossible to ignore. She eyes it curiously, watching the smoke drift into the air. 

Before Chrissy can react, Jason sits up and grabs it from him. “She doesn’t do stuff like that. Just pass us next time.” And hands it over to the next in line. He’s visibly annoyed, dropping back against the seat with a huff. 

“God forbid you jocks loosen up a bit. Maybe it’ll help you relax. Ride that sweet cloud for a little. What’s the worst that can happen? Get the munchies and fall asleep?” 

“Knock it off. I said ‘no’. We don’t do that.” 

An internal conflict arises within her. A tiny voice says that he’s doing the right thing and being a good boyfriend. It's true. She doesn’t do anything like that. He probably wanted to save her from being peer pressured into doing something 'bad'. On the other hand, shouldn't she get to decide that for herself? 

“I’ll be back.” When she goes to push off his lap, he tightens the hold on her waist and gives her a questioning look. Bathroom. She mouths the word. He nods and finally lets go.

Something about that doesn’t feel right. It’s not like Chrissy had intentions of partaking, per se. The option was ripped away without her input. No say in the matter. Just like at home. Her lips are perfectly capable of forming ‘no thank you’ on their own. 

Glancing back, Jason already dove into another conversation with the guys at the table. He probably won’t notice if she takes too long. One mention of basketball and they’ll be on that subject for a while. Perhaps until it’s time to leave and from the looks of it, this will run super late. 

‘Darn it.’

The words on the page slowly start melding together, becoming a blur of black ink. Chrissy frowns and blinks a few times in frustration. It doesn’t get any clearer. Trying to follow along in this textbook is hopeless. She tries to focus on the little image in the bottom left corner. That’s not any better. The more she stares at it, the heavier her eyes are. A couple of minutes won’t hurt. Better that than nothing at all. Not like there’s much of a choice. Her head keeps slouching forward and it’s too much of a struggle to hold it up.

“Chrissy? Chrissy?... Miss Cunningham?!” 

A heavy book slams against the desk’s surface, causing Chrissy to jump right out of her seat. She shouts, eyes wide as saucers as she looks around wildly. It takes a second to realize what’s going on and notice the entire class staring. At her. Some of the other students snicker at her dilemma. 

“Enough, Zach. Keep it up and I’ll send you to the office!” Mr. Nocito turns to scold the loudest one. “It’s not funny.”

This is humiliating. Everyone’s eyes are on her and the teacher. Some smirking. Others show sympathy, knowing what it’s like to have him on their case. She tries to calm the trembling in her limbs from the sudden shock. 

Thankfully, the bell rings. 

Without waiting to get reprimanded, Chrissy snatches her textbook and bookbag. Not today. Slinging it over her shoulder, she quickly slips past other students to get out of the classroom as quickly as possible. 

"Get back here, Cunningham! I want to have a word with you.” Nocito calls out. The cheerleader rushes down the crowded hall, hoping to get away from the mess that was left behind. All while keeping her head hanging low. This might be the first time in high school that she purposefully ignored a teacher. It had to be Nocito, huh? One of the strictest people in the entire school. 

‘I don’t care.’  

That’s it. She heads straight for the girl’s bathroom. Pushing the door open, a sigh of relief leaves her lips seeing that it’s empty. Good. Some privacy. Hopefully it stays that way. Walking towards the sink, she turns it on to splash some cold water on her face.

“What’s going on?” Chrissy whispers, staring up into the mirror. This isn’t like her. She looks so tired. Stressed. Is that what others see, too? And to top it all off, there’s a home game after school.  Doing high-energy routines while running on empty is asking for trouble. The last thing the school needs is for the head cheerleader to collapse in front of everyone. That would be devastating. Or causing a teammate to get injured from making a dumb mistake. No way. Something has to be done about this.

“What’s the worst that can happen? Get the munchies and fall asleep?”  

Maybe that might help? Would it? Last night presented an opportunity to try it but she couldn’t. Not with Jason there. He doesn’t approve of that. Getting drunk is okay and everyone does it. Pot is apparently crossing a line, though. The ‘gateway drug’. If a person will do that, then what’s stopping them from moving on to the stronger stuff? At least, that’s the narrative some spread to scare people away from it.

‘He’s just looking out for me.’

Thoughts race through her mind as she taps a finger against the side of the sink. Once wouldn’t hurt, right? It’s not like she’d make a habit out of it. Only enough to relax, get some sleep, and eat more than a few bites. Let the stress melt right off her shoulders. Perhaps float on that little cloud Jonah mentioned for a while. That sounds nice. A small break away from reality. 

‘How do I get some?’

Leaning closer to the mirror, she squints at the reflection staring back at her. Asking anyone from the party last night probably isn’t a good idea. They might tell Jason. All the people she knows are friends with him‌ or they’re connected to someone who is. That’s out of the question.

“That freak’s loud as hell. Still, he's got good shit. I'll admit that. Took my ass right out."

“Oh!” Chrissy smacks a hand against her forehead, wondering why that didn’t come to mind. How can she be so stupid? The answer was right there the whole time. 

Eddie Munson. The resident dealer of Hawkins High and someone who is not friends with her boyfriend. They don’t even run in the same circles. It’s perfect. All she has to do is find him when no one is around and ask if he’ll do it. 

Next period is Ms. O’Donnell’s class. The only one they share‌. Until recently, she barely realized it because he’s usually skipping or sleeping in the back row. Waiting until school’s over to ask might be tricky with everyone around and he won’t be expecting her to suddenly pop up like that. 'If' he’s not in class and 'if' she manages to track him down, this can hopefully be done discreetly. 

‘I’m going to do it. I’m going to skip my first class and look for Eddie.'

This was a bad idea. 

Turning another corner, Chrissy quickly glances back and forth before darting across the hall. No one’s around. Thank goodness. Still, she probably looks ridiculous crouching past classrooms and walking alongside walls, hoping that nobody sees her. 

This little mission seemed fine when she cooked it up in the bathroom. There’s one major problem. After finding Eddie, she has to talk to him. Not just answer a question or two with some lame response. No. Like, actually walk up to him and strike up a conversation. That interaction on Friday alone fried her nerves to a crisp. 

‘I can do this!’

Four places are already checked off the list. Scurrying by Ms. O’Donnell’s class earlier, she carefully peeked through the door window and didn’t see him there. Next was the area near the parking lot. Some students go there to smoke or sit in their cars while skipping. His van’s out there but not him. The other spots were the scary boiler room and janitor’s closet, though it’s mostly for people looking to hook up. It didn't hurt to at least make sure. 

‘What about the boy’s bathroom?’

No way. That’s going to be a big no. Even if he was in there, it’s not worth the potential embarrassment. Where else could he be? Goofing around in a different class? She taps her foot in frustration, wracking her brain for possibilities. 

“Wait!” Lighting strikes. She’s got it. The old stairwell. Everyone uses the main one that’s closer to the center of the building. It’s wide and open, making it more convenient to get around. The other is a different story. Still, it’s a good spot to hide out since no one really goes there. For a reason.

Chrissy stays low and alert while rushing to the far end of the second floor. There are no classes in this corner. That makes this easier. When the old metal door comes into view, she can feel the tension building up inside her. If he’s not here, that might be a sign that this wasn't meant to be. She'd wait until the bell rings to go to next period and act like none of this happened.

Creeping up to the dingy little window, she pushes onto her tippy toes to peer through. Being short sucks. It’s higher up than the regular classroom doors. The stairwell lighting is dim yet good enough to take a quick look around. 

Bingo. 

There he is. Lounging across a couple of narrow steps with a cigarette dangling from his lips and a strange-looking red book in hand. One with a monster on the cover. He seems completely absorbed in it, lazily flipping a page with a ringed finger. 

‘Take a deep breath and go for it.’

Chrissy goes to do exactly that but the moment her hand touches the door, she freezes. Is this okay? Or is this entire thing ridiculous? Maybe it’s better to go back and cut her losses. This wasn't exactly a thought-out plan.

‘No, I got this. There’s nothing to be afraid of. Go in, ask, then leave. Not a big deal. I’m the cheer captain. If doing a routine in front of tons of strangers doesn’t bother me, then neither will this. And he’s not even that scary.’ 

Steeling any resolve left to go through with this, she slaps the sides of her face and lets out a deep breath. Ready. It’s now or never. Barging through the door and marching across the concrete floor, she stops a few feet away from him. He doesn’t react. Just keeps reading while humming a tune and tapping his foot against one of the steps. She gives the book blocking his face from view a sharp look and clears her throat. 

Nothing.

“Ahem.” Still nothing. Some of the confidence built up in the hallway seeps out with every passing second. Is he ignoring her? Hiding in the bathroom is sounding a lot better right about now. “Um, Eddie?” A hand reaches out from behind the book with a lit cigarette between its fingers. He taps the long ash from the end, letting it fall down the rest of the stairwell. This guy really doesn’t have a care in the world.

“Eddie?” She says his name louder this time. 

“What, man?!” The book drops onto his chest when he sits up and yanks a set of headphones off with a huff. “Can’t you see I’m—” When his eyes land on her, they fly open in surprise. “...Chrissy? ” He whispers in disbelief to himself. 

Realizing he’s gawking, Eddie stubs out the cigarette and quickly hops to his feet, letting the book fall onto the ground. “My bad.” He laughs, casually striding down the last few steps to her level. “Thought you were someone else.” 

'Thank God I'm not them.'

If she wasn’t so nervous, it would actually be impressive how he went from being completely taken off guard to acting laid back and confident within seconds. Even she can’t pull that off so organically. The guy’s a natural, from the slight smirk to the hands buried in his back pockets as he leans back. Calm, cool, and collected. 

“So, ah… What are you doing here, Cunningham? Skipping class? That's pretty ballsy of you.” He grins, arching a brow. That tone makes it seem like he's delighted to see one of the 'good kids' doing something to break the rules. And it's from the least likely culprit. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices his foot shifting back. A white sneaker knocks the monster book to the side. Out of view. He coughs and moves to cross his arms over his chest, drawing her attention back to him. 

Now that she’s here with Eddie, another problem dawns on her. How does someone ask for pot? Without looking stupid? Especially to a person they barely know? Like, 'Hello fellow student, can I purchase some marijuana?’ probably won’t cut it. She’ll sound like a dweeb. 

“I-I wanted to ask you about, um—” Chrissy’s heart is two seconds from imploding. Maybe that’s her stomach. 

Most people would’ve probably told her to spit it out by now. Instead, he leans against the railing and keeps his gaze fixed on her. “Ask me about what?” It’s not annoyed or impatient like she expected. His voice is low. Curious, even. 

‘Do it, dummy. Stop making a fool out of yourself.’

“I wanted to ask you about getting some… you know.” She instinctively grabs a lock of hair to twist between her fingers. 

If Eddie seemed shocked before, that’s nothing compared to now when it finally registers what she’s beating around the bush about. His eyebrows disappear into that messy mop of dark hair as he stares at her in stunned silence. She shifts on her feet, trying to contain the growing discomfort with this entire situation. 

“Are you asking me for grass, Cunningham?” 

Hearing it out loud makes it feel even more bizarre. She shyly nods, a bit worried about how he’s going to react. Is he going to make fun of her? Tell her to kick rocks? 

A few excruciating moments go by as Eddie looks from her to the wall, his eyes flickering back and forth. “Okay... Yeah.” He lightly grazes his chin with a long finger. “I ‌have it, just not on me right now. But I can get it to you when school’s over.”

“There’s a home game today. It doesn’t start until 4, so I have a little extra time in between.” A direct pathway links her brain and lips so she blurts it right out. No stuttering or hesitancy. He seems willing to do it. That’s encouraging enough. 

“Right,” He bites the side of his lip and glances up toward the ceiling. “You know that old little picnic area in the forest? Behind the football field?” She silently nods again when his gaze lands back on her. “Meet me out there after school.”

“Okay. I’ll be there.” This still might be a bad idea. She’s already come this far though. No backing out now. Chrissy throws him a ghost of a smile and quickly turns away, having no clue what else to say to him. This is enough. Her limbs are rigid and awkward as she walks away, not daring to look back. 

'Great.'  

It’s a done deal. She did it, even if it was painful on her end. Now all that’s left to do is slog back to the bathroom until next period and finish the rest of the school day. Then afterward, maybe some peace of mind and a good night’s rest will be within reach. 

All Chrissy can do is hope everything works out. It has to. Otherwise, she might lose it. 

Chapter Text

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Chrissy says under her breath as she steps onto the empty football field. The sun starting to set, casting shadows across the large building and school grounds. She can see it peeking out between the tall trees. Almost beckoning her to keep going. 

The day went by so fast. There wasn’t enough time to mentally prepare for this, but backing out isn’t an option at this point. It wouldn’t be right. After all, she sought him out. Not the other way around. Stopping at the edge of the field, she observes the forest warily. What a spot to pick. The creepiest place to meet someone all alone. Oh well. This is what he chose and she agreed without a second thought at the time. 

No one’s around. Whoever didn’t head straight home is ‌hanging out by the parking lot or in the school, preparing for the upcoming game. That leaves this side of the building empty and hopefully, no prying eyes witness where she’s going. 

The cheer captain hesitantly walks past the first row of trees. It’s been so long since the last time she's wandered through here. Maybe eighth grade? When a group of them met up after one girl stole a cigarette from her parents. They all thought it was so cool and snuck out to try smoking it. Be a little rebellious for once. That didn’t go well. It only took a few strange noises to scare them off, swearing the place was haunted. It was probably a critter moving around. Still, that was enough to make them promise never to return. Yet here she is, heading deeper into the place that terrified her as a middle schooler. 

‘I hoped we would’ve run into each other already.’

Blue eyes dart back and forth, almost desperate to see that denim vest and leather jacket combo. He is coming, right? Regardless of how she normally feels about Eddie, the growing anxiety from walking alone out here supersedes any of that. Some company would be more than welcome right now. 

A sigh of relief slips out at finally seeing the clearing up ahead. She steps over a root sticking up from the ground, continuing across the endless amounts of dead leaves and twigs. There’s no clear path so treading through this is unavoidable. Hopefully her white sneakers won’t be too messed up, since there’s a game right after this. 

Chrissy grabs one of her bookbag straps and grips it as she heads toward the lone picnic table. It's right in the center of the open area, littered with some old beer cans and bottles. No one’s been here in a while from the looks of it. 

“Hello?” Her ears perk up hearing something in the distance. A strange sound. Different from the kind birds and insects make. She squeezes the strap tighter and looks around, trying to figure out what it is and where it’s coming from. “Hello?” 

Nothing. No small animals nearby. Not a soul in sight. Everything is still, even the leaves hanging off branches. This is creepy. Bouncing on the back of her heels, she silently prays that no one is playing a prank. Eddie wouldn’t do something like that, right? 

“Chrissy.”

The blood drains from her face at hearing that voice. It sounds distant, coming from multiple directions. Like a whisper from afar. Impossible. There’s no way. She must be so tired that things aren’t making sense anymore. 

“Chrissy? ” 

“M-Mom?” It’s closer this time. Taking a step back, Chrissy’s body trembles as a lump forms in her throat. This isn’t real. It’s not. Just weird noises she’s imagining from sleep deprivation. That’s all. It doesn’t stop the familiar panic gripping her chest, making it hard to breathe.

‘It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real.'

“Chrissy, what did I tell you?!” Too close. She’s frozen to the spot, unable to move. That voice. It’s now coming from a nearby tree. Yelling at her. “Stop eating so much or you’re going to get fat! Don’t you care how that will make us look?! After everything your father and I have done for you... What did I do to deserve such an ungrateful child!”

A small patch of bark falls off the trunk and something dark pokes out. Thin, black legs sprout from the hole, quickly followed by a little hairy body. Spider. A nasty-looking one. Another piece of bark drops and suddenly, more and more legs start coming out. The arachnids pour out of the tree and run down the side, heading straight for the ground. 

Chrissy tries to scream and fails. If the voice is still going, she can’t hear it. Not over the pounding in her ears. Those 'things' are coming. Hundreds of them. If she doesn’t do something… Tears prick her eyes as she takes a step back. Running is the only option but the fear taking over is making it hard to move. With the horde only a couple of feet away now, it’s do or die from a heart attack. Time to go. Nothing else matters except getting away from the spiders before they start crawling up her legs. 

She spins around to bolt out of there, only to smack into something hard. Face-first. The collision stuns her enough to shout and stumble backward. Right in the direction she doesn’t want to go. 

“Whoa! Hey, hey, hey!” Hands grab onto her shoulders to help as her wobbly knees almost give out. Through the tears, she can make out that crazy hair and devilish club shirt. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Eddie smirks, chuckling lightly. 

The cheerleader stares at him wide-eyed, hoping this isn’t another trick. She reaches up to check. Her fingers tap the back of his hand and wrist to confirm someone is actually there. Warmth, skin, metal rings, and the bottom of a leather sleeve. It must be real. Hallucinations can’t take physical form, right? 

The grin on his face fades seeing the fear etched in hers. “You okay?” He asks softly, leaning back with a concerned expression. She’s not. There’s no way she could be. Not after that. 

‘He can’t see it. No one would be so calm if they did.’

That’s a terrifying thought. To see things that other people can’t? Letting out a shaky breath, she hesitantly looks back at the tree. There’s nothing out of the ordinary. No swarm of spiders. No disembodied voice. What was that? Was it all in her head? 

“Y–Yeah.” She bites down on her bottom lip, fighting the urge to burst out crying. This is so frustrating. Mentioning any of it will make him think she's insane. Who'd believe that? When she doesn't herself? 

Eddie shifts to the side and glances in the same direction, trying to see what caused her to react like that. “You sure?” He doesn’t seem convinced but she nods anyway, hoping to move on. “Oh, sorry.” The hands on her shoulders quickly pull back. Almost like they suddenly burned him after lingering for too long. “So… Okay.” He turns around and heads straight for the picnic table. With a grand sweep of his arm, the old cans and bottles are knocked onto the ground. The old lunch pail he usually carries around is already sitting on the edge. 

Chrissy takes the hint and makes her way over to the other side. This is where they’re doing it. The moment she takes a seat on the bench, her knees start bouncing. 

'Calm down.’

It’s useless. Shaking off the feeling of what happened is too difficult. She stares at the table, barely noticing him taking off his jacket and laying it across the surface. Is there any way this actually goes well now? 

“There’s, uh… There’s nothing to worry about. Okay? No one ever comes out here.” Eddie sits down and looks her right in the eyes. “We’re safe. I promise.” The rapid beating in her chest slowly calms down. Something is reassuring in hearing that. The old pail creaks loudly when the lid swings open. Her eyes widen a fraction seeing the contents as he moves it over. There are a few clear plastic snack bags filled with large buds. So this is what it looks like. On the side is a box that reads ‘Camel filters’ and a little orange pack of rolling papers. It dawns on her that he carries this thing with him all around school. 

“So, how does this work exactly?” She says quietly, staring at the pail. It sounds lame but she has no experience with this kind of stuff. Asking is better than assuming. 

“Mm. Just like any old sale. Except cash-only and for obvious reasons, no receipts.” When he finishes the explanation, she looks away and shifts uncomfortably on the bench. “I’ll do a half ounce for, uh, 20. What do you say?” He pulls out one of the bags and holds it up for her to see. “Plenty of bang for your buck. Should last you a while.” 

'I’ve already come this far.’

A scratchy noise from behind causes Chrissy to gasp and whip around in her seat. Turning, she sees it’s nothing serious. Only an innocent little squirrel scampering up a tree that she probably scared the daylights out of. Thank God. 

The lid slams shut. “Hey, we don’t need to do this.” Eddie looks away, leaning on his elbow. That soft, comforting tone from earlier disappears. Replaced with one that sounds annoyed and detached. “Just give me the word and I’ll walk away. Okay?” He lifts the pail up and puts it on the bench next to him, out of view. 

“No, it’s not that.” It tumbles right out. The desperation in her voice is apparent yet she doesn’t have it in her to care right now. “I don’t want you to go.” He pauses, settling his gaze back on her curiously. 

‘Please don’t leave me out here by myself.’

She wants to say that so badly. Thinking about going through something like that again makes her legs quiver beneath the table. Being alone right now is a bad idea. The fact that he’s still here must be a good sign, right? That he'd be willing to hear her out? “It’s just… Do you ever feel like… you’re losing your mind?” 

Silence. 

Not hearing anything aside from the sounds of nature worries her. What if that was too much? Maybe some things do need to be kept private. Her mother always said to never bother people with personal issues. They barely know each other. Eddie has no reason to care about any of this. Still, the small ray of hope that someone might understand compels her to look up at him.

“Umm… You know, just on a daily basis.” A smile spreads across his face, widening until it’s ear-to-ear. “I mean, I feel like I’m losing my mind right now doing a drug deal with Chrissy Cunningham, the Queen of Hawkins High.” 

‘Queen?’

It’s infectious. Chrissy can feel her lips slowly curl upward. The heavy weight on her chest wanes, making it a little easier to breathe. She didn't know what to expect but it wasn’t such a big smile. Not from him. Even if it lasts only a second, it’ll undoubtedly leave an imprint on her mind. 

“You know, this isn’t the first time that we’ve, um, hung out.” He says, knocking one of the heavy rings on his finger against the table. Those dark eyes search her face for something specific. Maybe that ‘aha’ moment of realization, yet they’re only met with confusion. “You don’t remember?” 

“No.” The disappointment in his voice makes her feel guilty but lying wouldn’t be right. She genuinely doesn’t remember hanging out with him before and the stairwell doesn’t count. “I’m sorry.” 

“That’s okay.” Eddie looks off to the side, away from her. He’s deflated. Like that answer took the wind right out of his sails. She tries to jog her memory to find the place where he fits in. Wouldn’t someone remember that? 

‘A party? Pep rally? Was he there and I didn’t notice? No way. We don’t hang out with any of the same people. Why can’t I remember?’

Both hands smack against his chest, clutching at his heart as if her words pierced right through it. She shouts in surprise when he falls backward off the bench, tumbling into the dirt. “I wouldn’t remember me either, Chrissy!” The Hellfire leader jumps to his feet, covered in dead leaves and small twigs. “You really don’t remember me?” He says in disbelief while brushing away the debris. 

“I’m sorry.” It’s hard not to laugh. This guy is something else. She can’t resist the smile spreading across her face at his weird antics. 

“Middle school, talent show. You were doing your cheer thing. You know, the… the thing you do. It was pretty cool, actually.” Eddie gives a halfhearted shake of imaginary pompoms before crossing his arms. “And I was with my band…?”

“Corroded Coffin!” It hits her like a ton of bricks. That’s right. Since elementary school, her mother always pushed her to do the talent show every year to give her parents something to boast about. There was only one band she recalls playing then. 

“Yes! You do remember!” He claps his hands excitedly, thrilled that they’re finally on the same page. 

“Oh my god! Of course. With a name like that, how can I forget?!” That was back when she was in sixth grade. New to middle school. The band that played was so different from every other act. She can vividly remember some of the parent's faces when they started performing. 

“I dunno. You’re a freak.” The word everyone calls this guy. Now it's being thrown at her by that same person and it leaves her speechless for a second. Seeing the crooked grin on his face, she can't find it in herself to be offended by his teasing, anyway. Not if it's coming from him. 

“No, it’s just that you look so—”  

“Different? Yeah. Well, my hair was buzzed, and I didn’t have these sweet old tatties yet.” He yanks down the front of his club shirt to show off a tattoo on his chest. A strange-looking head. Maybe a skull? Or is it some kind of monster? There’s another one above it that his fingers are blocking. 

“You played guitar, right?”

“Uh-huh. Still do. Still do. You should come see us. We play at The Hideout on Tuesdays, usually around 8. It’s pretty cool. We actually get a crowd of about five… drunks.” Eddie keeps moving around like he can’t stay still for two seconds. He makes her laugh and she finds the warm sensation growing in her chest surprisingly pleasant. “It’s not exactly the Garden but you gotta start somewhere, right?”

“You know, you’re not what I thought you’d be like.” It’s a welcome yet unexpected twist. She always thought he was a bit of a cocky jerk, despite his reputation as the school freak. Loud, eager to fight, and rebellious. Not trying to get along with anyone or fit in anywhere with the rest. He carved out a small corner for the Hellfire Club and lobbed insults like molotovs at the other groups with glee. 

Yet here Eddie is, bending over backward—literally—to build a bridge of sorts to her, the head cheerleader. He didn’t leave, even after the way she was acting. Most people would've been put off by it and left. Instead, he stayed, making her laugh and trying to get her to remember they hung out a long time ago. A bad person wouldn’t do that, right?  

“Mean and scary?” He arches a brow, pulling a handful of dark hair across his face to cover his mouth. “Yeah, well, I actually kinda thought you’d be kinda mean and scary, too.”

"Me?!" Chrissy looks up at him in surprise. Those are two words she could never imagine someone using to describe her. Compared to him, she’s a munchkin. A marshmallow. No bark and no bite. 

“Terrifying.” His smirk widens as he sits down on the bench. “So, in other good news, flattery works with me, so…” The pail comes back out onto the table. He flips the lid open and pulls a bag out, dropping it in front of her. “Twenty-five percent discount for the half. Fifteen bucks. You’re robbing me blind here, you know.” 

Just for a few minutes, all that business had drifted away. Shoved into the background. Out of sight, out of mind. She almost forgot the reason they were out here‌ in the first place and what happened before he showed up. Now it’s all back. It was nice while it lasted.

The smile on her face disappears while looking at the bag of weed. Will that do the trick? Perhaps when it was just for sleep and food-related issues. What about hearing or seeing things that aren’t there? Unless they’re the result of the first two problems. She doesn’t know and is too afraid to ask out of fear of what might happen. Telling anyone what’s really going on could land her in Pennhurst. 

“Do you have anything maybe… stronger?”

Eddie’s playful expression vanishes at the question. "Stronger?" His eyes widen and he leans back on the bench, regarding her carefully. The silence between them puts her on edge, not knowing what he could be thinking. Was it a mistake to ask? 

He glances away, furrowing his brow. Looking at anything and everything except her. It’s upsetting. Only a few moments ago, they were laughing and getting along. Now it’s like there’s this incredible distance between them that leaves her feeling cold and lonely again. Experiencing the warmth, even for a little while, made it apparent what's been missing and she doesn’t want this unfamiliar sensation to go away. Not over some stupid drugs. 

‘I was lucky to get him to sell me pot. I shouldn’t have pushed it.’

“I… Maybe this—”

“Actually, I think I have what you’re looking for.” Eddie blurts out, effectively cutting her off before she can change gears. 

“You do?”

“Yeah.” He slowly nods, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yeah, I got it.” 

“Okay. So, what do I do?” All of this is completely new to her. Types of drugs, terms, prices, how they’re used, or amounts. Without his help, she’s a fish out of water. 

“When do you need it by?” His gaze shifts to his hand as he messes with one of the clunky rings on his finger. Absentmindedly twisting the cross with skulls around, then doing it again. 

“As soon as possible.” There’s no telling when she'll hear that voice again or see those disgusting spiders. If the drugs can help, it’s better to find out soon.

“Gotcha. It’s, uh, at my place. The Special K. You said you have a game after this, right?”

“Yeah, it shouldn’t be too long. Maybe an hour and a half? Two hours?” The game itself isn’t actually that long. Four quarters that are eight minutes each. It’s the breaks, timeouts, fouls, and everything else that adds so much time.

“Do you want me to pick you up afterward?” He asks quietly, looking up from his rings. 

She debates it for a moment. That would be a lot easier for them both. There’s one huge issue. “Mm. Jason’s expecting me to be waiting for him to give me a ride home.” If other people at school saw her getting into Eddie’s van, all hell would break loose. Being seen together isn't the main problem, though. It's what could happen to him after that. She doesn't want to make life difficult for someone trying to help.

“Ah, yes. Jason Carver. The Golden Boy.” His upper lip curls in annoyance. As if saying that name alone leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. When those two started despising each other is a mystery to her. She only began noticing it during junior year. Why? It seems so silly. 

“Do you know where Roseline Street is?” Hopefully changing the subject and moving it away from Jason will put him in a better mood. 

“It’s in the hoity-toity section, right?”

“Mhm. Would you possibly be willing to pick me up at the corner of Roseline and Douglas? Around 7:30?” That’ll give her enough time to get home, change, sneak out, and head to the meet-up spot. She can climb down the tree outside her bedroom window and slip away for a while. It’s down the street so her dad won’t see the van out front. That’s if he agrees to this.

“Sure,” Eddie quickly answers.

“Really?”

“Yeah, why not?” Hanging onto the edge of the picnic table, he leans far back, rocking in his seat. Giving her a look like she’s being ridiculous. As if she’s not asking too much of him and being a pain in the butt. “Got practice with the band, anyway. I’ll swing by after I'm done to scoop you up.” 

“How much should I bring with me?”

“Well, I think I have about... You know what? Just bring the fifteen I mentioned before. We’ll figure it out when we get there.” 

“Okay,” Chrissy says softly, reaching up to touch the ‘86 necklace displayed between her clavicles. This is all so surprising. Eddie Munson is very different from how she imagined. “Thank you.”

There isn’t band practice.

Not tonight, anyway. That was another case of bullshit slipping out before he could catch it. What sounds cooler? Jamming out with his band or admitting he’s with a handful of Hellfire members working on character sheets for a side D&D campaign? Technically, the band is here. Gareth, Jeff, Grant, and himself. He didn’t exactly tell her they were practicing music. Whatever. It’s already said and done. 

“So how are you going to explain why Bruenor can speak Sylvan and Druidic? That last one is secret!” Grant skims over the sheet before handing it back to Henderson.

“I’ll work it into his backstory… somehow. Hey, there’s still time to fine-tune the details. I’m not done yet."

Eddie stares down at the draft he’s supposed to be working on, not paying much attention to the group's banter. Since the Hellfire Club only has the theater room on Fridays, they had to find somewhere else to do this. It varies depending on the day and what’s going on. Gareth’s place, Jeff’s garage, Wheeler’s basement, Henderson’s bedroom. This time, it’s the latter.

‘6:50.’

He shifts on the rug, finding it hard to sit still. The room isn’t huge and with everyone piled into it, there’s not a whole lot of space. His folded legs keep bouncing in place and accidentally bumping into Grant’s.

“That’s like the hundredth time you looked at your watch in the last fifteen minutes.” Henderson drops the book he’s using to write on onto his bed, giving him a curious look.

“Yeah,” His eyes flicker back to the watch on his wrist. It’s 6:54 now. Almost showtime. “I gotta run.” He says absentmindedly, quickly shuffling the papers into a messy pile and shoving them in one of his D&D books.

“What? What do you mean you gotta run? Now?” Even without looking at him, he can tell Grant’s mouth is hanging wide open. It always is when the big guy’s annoyed.

“Yeah, man. Now. Got places to go, people to see.” It’s a pain trying to keep his face unreadable with them all staring. Not to give anything away. Hopping to his feet, he gathers his stuff while ignoring their questions and protests. Nope. They don’t need to know. No one does. “Sayonara, suckers!"

Closing the bedroom door and blocking out the noisy complaints behind it, Eddie strides through the Henderson’s living room to leave. The guys are irritated. They’ll get over it. If any of them were in his position, they’d completely understand… probably. 

“Have a good night, Ms. H.” 

The older woman lounging on a recliner looks up from the cat lying across her lap and smiles. “You too, sweety. Drive home safely.” 

“Will do.” He snorts, trying to hide the smirk on his face. It’s become something of a joke at this point. Everyone knows how he drives. Ms. H almost had a heart attack the first time he dropped Dustin off and she was home. Thankfully she doesn’t seem afraid of him anymore. That’s a plus. 

Eddie closes the door gently to avoid upsetting her before dashing to his van. The meeting spot isn’t too far away but it’s better to be early than late. For this, anyway. “Okay, Judas. Do your thing.” Popping in the tape, he turns the volume up as loud as it can go and tears out of the driveway. It’s a ten-minute ride to the ritzy section from here so it should only take him seven, max. 

His fingers tap on the steering wheel, going along with the music. It helps calm his nerves. The louder it is, the better. That usually works. Not so much tonight. They’re going haywire. 

“Here we go.” A fancy-looking sign comes into view with a small light shining on it. Welcoming people to the area. It’s doubtful they meant people like him. The folks on this side mostly act the same. Sitting in their lavish houses, driving those expensive cars, and looking down their noses at everyone else. 

It’s mind-boggling going through the section and seeing the difference between this and the trailer park. Who'd even think both were in Hawkins? They're two completely separate worlds only fifteen minutes apart. 

Cruising down Douglas, the corner where it meets Roseline finally pops up after a few minutes. This is the place. He parks away from the streetlights to get some cover, not wanting to attract any unnecessary attention. No one needs a paranoid richie calling the man to complain about a suspicious van in their area.

“7:22,” Eddie whispers to himself. It’s hard to resist checking every few minutes. Letting out a deep breath, he leans over to ‌look at himself in the mirror again. Yep. Still a hot mess, as intended. Nothing’s changed yet that doesn’t stop him from doing it anyway. 

This is insane. Chrissy Cunningham is coming to meet him. The Queen of Hawkins High hanging out with Eddie 'the freak'. 

'And she has a boyfriend. Jason Carver of all fucking people. Captain of the Douchebag team.' 

Why does he have the worst luck sometimes? The prettiest girl in town finally talks to him and it’s for drugs and she’s already in a relationship. With a complete asshole, at that. Is this divine punishment for being a little shit for so long?

‘This is a chance to get to know her better.’

Turning off the van, he tries to sit still and it’s impossible. There’s too much energy coursing through his body. Like when someone takes a few too many lines of coke and gets all jittery. That’s him. Just without the drugs. Constantly looking from one mirror to the next, while tapping his feet and fingers along to an imaginary rhythm. 

"Dammit." Waiting here is going to drive him insane. Grabbing a pack sitting on the dashboard, he hops out to lean against the side of the van. A smoke should help get rid of some of this tension. He needs a clear head. Otherwise, any stupid thing that comes to mind will slip right out when she shows up. He takes a long drag and tilts his head back, watching the swirls of smoke float up into the night sky. Maybe things are taking a turn for the better. This might actually be his year. 

'Finally.'

"Eddie?" A soft, hesitant voice calls out. He glances over to see a small figure behind the van, staying at a distance. Smart. It’s better to be safe than sorry. 

“...Yeah, it’s me.” The urge to crack a joke is so tempting, but he thinks better of it. Giving a straight answer in this situation would be the right thing to do. She’s a woman alone at night, walking up to a shady-looking van that could be a classmate. Her apprehension is understandable. Even nice neighborhoods can have creeps roaming around. 

Chrissy seems satisfied with the response and comes closer. “Sorry for making you wait. It took longer than I expected.” She smiles apologetically, tugging on the bottom of her sleeve. 

‘Cute.’

Still in that little cheer outfit… Did she rush over after getting dropped off? Must have. Despite the darkness, his sharp eyes can see the loose strands of hair that fell out of her curled ponytail. He’s seen the cheerleading team do their thing many times and her hairstyle is always still neat afterward. Perhaps it’s from running here? That’s what he settles on. The other ideas that come to mind gnaw at his insides. 

“You’re good. Ready to go?” The cheer captain nods and rubs her hands together, taking a deep breath that turns into small puffs of fog in the chilly air. Eddie walks to the other side of the van to open the passenger side door, holding out his hand to help her in. Like a gentleman or whatever. 

‘She’s gotta be cold in that.’

At least it’s still warm inside. It'll take the heater a few minutes to kick on. When she sits down, her knees start bouncing, and he’s not sure if she’s cold or nervous. Maybe a mix of both. 

Neither of them utters a word for the first half of the ride. Just listen to music. Chrissy stares out the window and plays with the hem of her skirt. Sitting as far back in the seat as physically possible while he drums his fingers along the side of the steering wheel to Iron Maiden’s ‘Piece of Mind’ album. Every so often stealing a discreet glance at the woman beside him, trying to gauge her reaction. 

“Um...” Eddie turns the music down the moment he hears her say anything. If she wants to talk, then Maiden has to take a break. He knows it’s blasphemous, yet will accept the punishment. “So, what is Special K? I’ve only heard of the cereal.”

Seeing the sweet, innocent look on her face fills him with guilt. Maybe bringing up the Special K earlier was wrong to do. She initially came to him for pot, then wanted something stronger. Whatever’s going on must be serious for someone like Chrissy to seek out hard drugs. It wasn’t an easy choice but he had to do it. When someone is that desperate to escape, they’ll find a way. No matter what. If she insists on doing it, he’d rather it be with him. There are too many shitty people out there who would love to take advantage of the situation. 

This way, she will be safe. He’ll make damn sure of it. 

“Well, it’s… The ‘K’s for ketamine. It’s an anesthetic. People used it in Nam but now it’s mostly for partying. Basically, it numbs pain and gives you a little break, if you catch my drift.” Eddie grips the wheel and debates how to explain the rest. Even if it’s impossible to say no to her, she needs to understand what could happen. He owes it to her to lay it all out so she can make that decision. “Let me give it to you straight. Taking too much can end badly. Same as with every other shit. There's a possibility of seeing things or falling into a k-hole. That’s where the trouble is.” Trying to drop it so casually doesn’t lessen the blow. Those worried blue eyes make it very clear. “Don’t sweat it. That’s what I’m here for. We’ll start off slow. I gotta good idea of what you’ll need.” 

“Are you doing it too?” 

“Nah. I’m the trip sitter. My job is to make sure you’re good. Can’t do that if I’m all messed up. Besides, that’s not really my thing.” It’s on him if anything goes wrong tonight. His place, his drugs, his invite, his responsibility. If there’s ever a time to be clear-headed, it’s for this. 

“Do you think it could help with sleep?” She asks quietly. It’s almost too low to pick up on but his hearing is as good as his vision. So is that the goal? Or part of it?

‘Knew it.’

“It can. Really depends on the amount and person taking it. I guess we’ll see, huh?” At least she’s talking more now. That’s a good sign. Even if it’s just asking questions, which he’s more than happy to answer.

“This is, uh, my castle.” Eddie stretches out his arms in front of the trailer. The scene doesn’t make him feel good, no matter how he looks at it. Especially when she walks through the fumes surrounding the van only to see this run-down place. It’s not much but it’s still home and his uncle works countless hours to keep that roof over their heads. 

Chrissy appears so out of place in Forest Hills to him. She’s probably never stepped foot in the park before, yet it doesn’t seem to faze her. He’s grateful for that. It would hurt to see that judgemental expression on her face. 

He runs up the steps to get the door for her. A wave of excitement and anxiety runs through him that’s difficult to contain. On one hand, Chrissy Cunningham is in his home. On the other, Chrissy Cunningham is in his home. The ‘it girl’ at Hawkins High who lives in a wealthy area with a huge house is stepping into the living room of the small trailer he shares with his uncle on the bad side of town. A sliver of unease mixed with shame creeps into the background, almost taunting him. 

“Sorry for the mess.” His jaw tightens as he quickly snatches up food wrappers and an empty beer can off the counter, silently cursing himself for not stopping by to clean up before getting her. There was plenty of time. It slipped his mind. “Maid took the week off.” 

“You, um... You live here alone?” To his surprise, Chrissy appears interested in everything. Standing in the middle of the living room and doing a small turn, her eyes gloss over every inch of space. The sports team hats hanging on the wall. A framed picture behind his uncle’s recliner. All the objects sitting along the mantle above the curtains. The small TV set a few feet away from her. 

“With my uncle but he works nights at the plant. Bringin’ home the big bucks.” Eddie murmurs while pulling open a drawer to sift through its contents. Checking each tin and container thrown in there. Nothing. Only a bunch of random junk. He bites the inside of his cheek, trying to remember where he put the damn thing. 

“Does it take long to work?” 

“Well, depends if you snort it or not. If you do, then yeah. It’ll kick in pretty quick.” The next drawer is the same. Pens, bread ties, notes, a tape measurer, and a tin with buttons. No Special K. “Ah, shit.” 

“Are you sure you have it?” She’s nervous again. He can hear it in her voice and see it from the way she’s holding herself. 

“No, no. I got it.” Now he’s starting to panic a little. It’s got to be here somewhere. When a dude from the bar gave it to him, he remembers putting it in a black cigarette case and stashing it away for a rainy day. Now the time has come where it’s needed. 

‘Bedroom.’

Eddie strides down the short hall to his room, trying not to seem like he’s rushing around. At least, not while she’s standing there and can see him. It’s a different story once he passes the doorway. After showing his beloved guitar some love, he tears into the drawers and boxes, cursing himself again. This time for not being more organized. Of course when it seems like the stars finally align, something has to go wrong. 

“Gotcha!” His eyes light up seeing the large tin in the back. That’s it. Now looking at it, he recalls putting it there specifically with some prescription pill bottles and other things he doesn't want his uncle accidentally seeing. Wayne overlooks the whole pot stuff. There’s no need to worry him with the rest. 

The lamps on the dresser and desk flicker. A quick flash, then back to normal. He scowls, taking the small bag out of the cigarette case and tossing it back into the tin. The electricity in the park sucks ass. Going out at the worst times and never really reliable. Maybe someday they’ll live in a place where that’s not an issue. 

It happens again. This time, the lights go berserk. Turning on and off throughout the entire place. He can see it happening in the hall from across the room, too. “Goddammit!” This piece of shit trailer. Why now of all times?! Getting to his feet, he looks around the room in annoyance. It’s usually not this bad. Did a drunk run into a pole or something? 

“Eddie? Eddie?!” His legs move before his mind registers what’s even happening. The panic in her voice… That’s not normal. 

He runs out of the room to see what’s wrong. In the two seconds it takes to get past the counter, it all goes back to the way it was. The lights finally stop flashing but she’s white as a ghost and trembling. 

'What the hell? Has she never seen power act up before?'

“Hey, hey! You okay? It’s just crappy wiring. Nothing to be scared of.” He acts casual about it, hoping that will put her at ease. It doesn’t. “Chrissy?” Waving a hand in front of her face finally grabs the cheerleader’s attention. She looks up at him, shaking like a leaf and it’s alarming. How can someone get that scared from such a minor inconvenience? 

“It’s alright. See? Everything’s fine.” The lights are dim. At least they’re working now. He thought for sure the whole place would go out and they’d have to wait for the electric company to come out in the morning to fix whatever was wrong. Seems like Lady Luck is throwing him a bone for once. “Look. I found it." He holds up the bag, dangling in the air so all the powder drops to the bottom. 

“Sorry,” Chrissy whispers, trying to even out her breaths. He raises a brow at that. Why is she apologizing to him? It’s his trailer and shitty power that started this. If anything, it should be the other way around but it’s best to drop it altogether and move on. The expression on her face is bothering him. First, it was fear. Now she just looks sad. Not the usual bummed-out sadness. The deep-seated, bottomless pit kind.  

‘I don’t like this.’

“Don’t worry about it. So, are you ready?” A change of subject should lighten the mood. It’s as dim as the lousy lamps all over the place. She nods, and that gives him some relief. At least she’s still here. Walking over to the couch, he flops down and pats the ‌space next to him. “Okay. A few things first.” 

‘This isn’t such a good idea. Not with the state she’s in. Set up is everything. Being in the wrong headspace can sink the entire ship.’ 

When she takes a seat next to him, Eddie grabs a book off the end table to put on his lap. This surface is fine for making lines. Everything needed to do this is on him, but he’s going to take his time and give her a heads-up on what to expect. Perhaps she’ll reconsider this. If not, he’ll do what he can to make it easier on her. 

“I’ll make a small line on this. That's enough to get you started and see how it goes. Okay? You take this straw and—” Eddie leans down toward the book to show her the motions. “Snort it. Try to do it fast so it doesn’t fall out. Should start kickin’ in within five minutes. Fifteen tops. It’ll last about an hour, though it depends. Could be more. Maybe less.” Even with the slight nods throughout the explanation, the vibe is totally off. “I’ll be right here, okay?” He adds in, seeing the worry written all over her. It’s understandable. This is clearly her first time doing anything like this. “Quick warning. It’ll probably feel like your nose is on fire. If it irritates it, try to turn your head away first or you might blow it everywhere.”

“Okay. Got it.” That doesn’t sound very convincing to him. She stares at the little bag sitting on the book intently, wrapping her arms around herself. He can’t help wondering if this is what she actually wants. Is it a bandaid for a bigger issue? 

‘Of course it is, dumbass.’

“Hey, uh…” There’s no telling if he’s reading this wrong or projecting his own thoughts onto her. It’s clear Chrissy’s really struggling with this from the way she’s looking at the Special K to her feet shifting on the carpet. That makes him hesitate. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” 

“What?” She seems taken aback by the idea. Was that not even considered a possibility? All of it only convinces him that she's on the fence and if that’s the case, jumping right into hard drugs like this won’t end well. 

“I’m just saying that if you’re not feelin’ it, we don’t have to do this. It’s not a big deal. I can put it away for another time.” Tapping one of his ringed fingers against the book, Eddie watches her carefully, trying to sift through the subtle signs. Being able to read minds would be great right about now. That would make this so much easier. “If you want, we can smoke a little. Something small. You know, take the edge off? Or we don’t have to do anything. No pressure. It’s entirely up to you, okay?”

He leans closer toward Chrissy, looking her straight in the eyes to convey she's the one in control of the situation. What happens next is up to her. If she wants to go home, he’ll take her. If she wants to do a line of K, he’ll get it ready. Whatever helps. As long as it’s her decision. 

It must’ve been true. She takes a deep breath and sucks in her bottom lip, biting down on it. A few quiet moments go by. That’s alright. There’s no rush. Her gaze stays fixed on his face, almost searching for something. 

“I… Maybe another time, then. To be honest, I’m a little scared to try it. Sorry, I… I don’t know.” She confesses, looking at him with uncertainty. It makes his lips pull back in a hard line. There’s no reason for her to apologize. Not to him and definitely not for this. 

“It’s fine. It’s fine. Don’t stress it. So, what do you want to do?” Even if the K plan’s dead, hopefully she doesn't skedaddle right away. There’s no guarantee a situation like this will ever happen again. This might be it, as much as that thought bums him out.

‘I don’t want her to leave yet.’

“Can we smoke? I mean, if it’s not too much trouble?” 

“Can we? Yeah. Hell yeah!” That was the original plan to begin with. “Let’s do it in my room. It’s easier to clear out and I won’t have to hear my uncle bitchin’.” 

“Okay.” Finally, Chrissy’s lips curl upward and some warmth fills her cheeks. It’s the first genuine smile he’s gotten out of her since they met in the forest earlier. 

The jitters start up again as they head down the hall. Just like when he was waiting in the van. 

“Shit.” Before they head in, Eddie stops short and turns to her. “Hold on for a sec.” It almost slipped his mind. Without waiting for an answer, he barges into the room and looks around, cursing. There’s no way she’s coming in here with that eyesore. The blanket in the corner will have to do for now since the sheets are still in a basket on the dryer. It’s thrown over the old mattress, hiding the many stains covering it. He'd die on the spot if she saw that. 

‘Crisis averted.’

“Alright.” 

She saunters in and curiously glances around the room. Same as with the living room. There’s plenty to look at in the small space. Posters covering the walls, tape collection, random items on the dresser and desk, some band equipment, his beloved guitar. All the crap he tore out and dropped on the floor while looking for the K. The pile of clothes sitting in the corner. Empty beer cans and ashtrays full of butts.

‘Dammit.’

Anything that he really doesn’t want her to see is out of sight, so there’s that. This is manageable. While she’s preoccupied, he gets to work setting everything up. Shutting the door and stuffing ‌clothes from the pile under it to keep the smell from spreading throughout the trailer. Opening the windows. Pulling out his personal stash from the drawer next to the bed. Breaking up one of the large buds on top to roll into a joint. 

“Have you ever smoked before?” 

“No. I was close but it didn’t work out.”

Eddie looks up from the paper between his fingers at her answer. Did she try getting it off someone else before going to him? 

‘Yeah, wouldn’t surprise me to find out I’m not the first choice.’ 

“Okay, done. Do you want to light it or me?” Holding up the joint towards the light, he admires his own handiwork. This one’s rolled with extra care. If it was a solo ride, it wouldn’t really matter. 

“You can.” She gingerly sits on the edge of the mattress, rubbing her hands over her bare knees. 

“Just a heads up. It’s gonna burn. A lot. Your throat, I mean. And don’t be surprised if you start coughing your ass off.” Sticking it between his lips, he lights the end and takes a small hit. That’s how it’ll have to go. Only enough to give the appearance of joining in without getting totally fried. Not tonight. Back in the van, he said he’d make sure she was good and meant it. “Here.” 

Chrissy takes the joint and stares at it cautiously, holding it between her slim fingers. What a surreal experience to see this girl of all people with a friggin' doobie. The pungent scent drifts around them and she crinkles her nose, trying to keep a straight face and failing miserably.

“Christ!” She coughs within seconds of taking a drag and swats away the smoke with her other hand. He can’t help laughing. It went exactly as he thought it would. “You weren’t kidding. It really does burn.”

“Told you.” 

They pass it back and forth with him taking as little as possible to avoid getting messed up while trying not to make her feel alone in this either. That’s not too hard. It'd take a hell of a lot more to get the job done. 

“How do you feel?” It's apparent it’s doing something. Her dilated pupils almost completely swallow up those stormy blue irises. They’re glossy, with that familiar reddish hue taking over the whites of her eyes. 

“Light.” Chrissy looks up at him from beneath her heavy lids. “Really light. My head’s all fuzzy.” She drawls, barely able to resist giggling and covering her face with a hand. Totally cooked. But that is the point. 

“That’s good, right?” This is what she wanted, no? To relax and let go for a while? Mission accomplished. Pushing off the bed, he grabs a pillow and waves the lingering smoke out the window. The neighbors don’t matter so screw it. His uncle doesn’t need to get pissy. He ignores a lot but he doesn’t like the entire trailer smelling like pot. Especially after coming home from work. 

“I think so.” She falls back against the bed, letting her legs dangle off the side. “I feel great.” Yeah, it definitely did something. This is the most relaxed he’s ever seen her. Letting out a breathy sigh, she drops her arms above her head and stretches across the blanket. 

Eddie freezes mid-swing. 

‘Shit.’

This is fucked. The pillow gets tossed onto the floor and he makes a beeline for his record collection on the desk. Flipping through them without actually seeing a single one. He already knows their order like the back of his hand. Anything that'll work as a distraction to ignore the heat biting at his face and ears.

‘Shit, shit, double shit.’

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard, trying to look at everything else but the obvious. Chrissy might be a little too relaxed. It’s as if any sense of self-awareness dissipated with the smoke. Just stretching out and purring like a cat on his bed. 

“Do you want to watch something?” She needs to get up out of his room. As of like, two minutes ago.

“Ah-huh.” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her trying to sit up. That's not working out so hot. “Eddie… Help. Please.” 

‘This chick.’

“C’mon. I gotcha.” Getting the unsteady cheerleader onto her feet, Eddie guides her out into the hall and toward the living room. This is nothing. He’s ended up getting stuck playing sitter before and some people can be a real nightmare. Chrissy, though? She's a piece of cake compared to that. Strawberry shortcake… and this is voluntary. 

‘Let’s see what’s on this piece of crap.’ 

The little TV across the room is always a pain in the ass to deal with. Turning it on, the screen fills with static. He stands in front of it and blocks her view from the couch, messing with the rabbit ears on top. She probably has a nice entertainment system at her place. One that doesn’t need to be manhandled to work. 

A good smack on the side gets the signal finally going. Now, what would she be interested in watching with him? He crouches down to flip through the limited channels and hopefully find something. Richard Simmons giving a pitch? Pass. Local news? Hell no. A scary movie? Maybe not the best idea right now. 

“Have you seen this before?” A grin spreads across his face as he turns towards her, pointing at the screen behind him. She shakes her head and mumbles that her parents wouldn't let her watch much TV growing up. What a shame. It wouldn’t be surprising to find out the Cunninghams didn’t let her do a lot of things. 

“It’s, uh... Golden Girls. They’re replaying reruns of the first season from last year. I’ve been waiting for new episodes to come out but they’re taking their sweet-ass time. These four older chicks live together in Miami and… yeah.” He falters, slightly embarrassed by his rambling. Those crappy antennas don’t pick up a whole lot out here, so the selection’s not great. “It's something to watch. You know.” 

‘Shut up already, dipshit.’ 

“Maybe it’ll be in the TV Guide? News about when the new episodes will come out?” She says, slowly melting into the couch.  

‘Sweetheart, we don’t even pay for this, let alone spend money on the Guide.’

“Perhaps.” Even from across the room, he can see her eyes are as red as the Devil’s dick. High as a kite and soaring through the sky. Good for her. From the looks of it, she needed a break.

"Eddie." That soft voice makes him pause for a moment. Still crouching in front of the TV. A dainty hand drops ‌onto the empty cushion, slowly rubbing back and forth. Without even thinking about it, he gets to his feet and steps closer to the couch. 

‘Shit, I’m in big trouble.'

“So, why do they live together?” It’s quiet, the way someone would speak in a theater to avoid distracting others. Her brows knit together as she leans forward, taking in everything on the screen. This episode is from the middle of the season. Anyone just tuning in won’t get those details. 

“Well, you see—”

They must’ve gone through three episodes by now. There’s one left before The Facts of Life comes on. It’s always the same shows on the same slots during the weekdays. That helped him find something she was interested in. Enough to listen while he gave a quick rundown on the characters and their dynamics. Makes it easier to understand what’s going on for someone who waltzes in halfway through the season without seeing the pilot. 

Taking a drag of a cigarette and blowing the smoke off to the side, Eddie quietly observes the woman next to him. Sitting against the corner of the couch with his arm across the top so there’s no telling if he’s watching TV or not. He's at least attempting to be discreet.  

Chrissy breaks out in another fit of laughter, grinning widely and occasionally covering it with the back of her hand. She’s really enjoying herself. There’s a way to tell, though it’s subtle. When she smiles and it’s genuine, it reaches her eyes. They’ll light up with the rest of her face. That was clear to him when they were in the talent show together. The way she interacted with people gave so much away. 

Anyone with two eyes should’ve been able to pick up on it yet she still manages to fool them even now. Not him. If there’s one important thing his dad taught him, it’s to watch folks carefully. Patterns eventually begin to show and a person reveals more about themselves through their body language and habits than they realize. Figuring someone out makes it a lot easier to swindle them. At least, that’s how his old man sees things.

It’s nice. Her real smile. Not the bullshit one she flashes in school all the time. The novelty in it is part of the reason he’d rather look at her than the TV. He’s already seen these episodes a few times over. They’ll play again. This, however, is a rare sight. It’d be a shame to miss it. 

During the last episode of Golden Girls, Chrissy slowly starts nodding off. Her eyelids are heavy and she struggles to keep her head up. It only takes a few more minutes before she’s in the opposite corner of the couch, breathing softly. 

The rollercoaster she’s apparently riding must’ve tuckered her out. 

‘Totally zonked.’

Glancing at the watch on his wrist, it’s already pushing 11. Now what? Is Mr. Cunningham expecting her back tonight? Does he even know she’s out? He's not sure what to do. They should’ve hashed that out earlier. 

“Do you think it could help with sleep?”

It’s late. Waking her up if she’s having problems sleeping is kind of cruel. There's school tomorrow, too. Screw it. They can go together in the morning. It’s not a big deal. Carefully getting up from the couch, he grabs his uncle’s Colts throw off the top and unfolds it. The trailer freezes in the middle of the night around this time of the year. She’s still in that tiny cheerleading outfit. 

“Okay.” This is gonna become a mess later. Whatever. He can’t leave her like that. Slumped on the cushions and hanging halfway off? Everything will ache in the morning. Cheerleading probably already does a number on her body as it is. 

Putting the throw aside, Eddie sighs and squats down, untying her sneakers. Setting them down neatly on the rug next to each other. The things he does for… to be nice. Yeah, it’s the decent thing to do. He’s not a complete asshole. Gently, he scoops up her legs and lifts them onto the couch. There. Now she can stretch out to her heart’s content. The last thing is to toss the throw over her and it’s done. 

Much better. Chrissy will be warm and covered up. 

“Jesus H. Christ!” He whines to himself, collapsing onto his uncle’s recliner. What a weird ass day. If she was riding on a rollercoaster, then he was hanging off the side, clinging on for dear life. This chick’s gonna give him a heart attack. How the hell did this happen? Looking over toward the blue cocoon on the couch, the dark shadows beneath her eyes are more prominent from this angle. Makeup isn’t magic. It wears off after a while. 

Letting out a deep breath, Eddie leans back in the chair, settling in. He’ll do his best to stay up. The TV’s still on and there are more shows to watch. Anything to get his mind off the fact that Chrissy Cunningham is sleeping on his couch. After they smoked pot and watched Golden Girls together. 

Friggin’ off the wall stuff going on, man. 

Chapter Text

“Alright, you sorry son’s-a-bitches! Let’s tear this place down!” The lights on the ceiling are hot and blinding. Sweat pours down his face, dripping from the tips of his messy hair. The clothes he’s wearing are drenched and clings to his skin like plastic wrap. 

“Coffin! Coffin! Coffin!”

This is exhilarating.  

“They might not invite us back after this one.” Jeff shrugs it off. That’s right. No regrets. Management wanted to book Corroded Coffin for The Garden and that’s exactly what they’re getting. 

“Shit happens.” He grips the neck of his guitar and looks out at the crowd, his heart racing from the chaotic energy flowing through the arena. The bright stage lights aren’t enough to stop him from seeing the sea of people chanting the band’s name. Thousands and thousands of them. All here just to see them play. 

With this next song, the pit is really going to get wild. He can’t wait. Glancing towards the far side of the stage for the dozenth time, he grins and wipes the sweat off his brow with the black bandana he always carries. A woman with strawberry blonde hair smiles back, clasping her hands together in excitement. She pushes up onto her toes and blows him a kiss. He snatches it midair in a tight fist, pressing it against his chest. 

A little something to keep him going.  

Two large men with security uniforms stand on either side, making sure no one runs into her. The pit usually forms closer to the center of the crowd, though smaller ones can erupt anywhere. Some fans get out of hand or start fights. Security knows to act as a barrier because if anything happens—even by accident—he’s taking some heads off with his guitar. 

These bastards shouldn’t test him. 

“Coffin! Coffin! Coffin!”

The band members give each other a look, nodding. Time for the next song of the set. When he takes a step forward, the floor shakes beneath his feet. 

“What's with this thing?!” The entire stage jerks to the side, then the next. Grant loses his balance and falls over, almost knocking Jeff into an amp. It’s out of control, swaying back and forth like it wants to buck the band off into the crowd. "S-Shit!"

.......

“Eddie. Eddie!” 

“Hmm?” Cracking a heavy lid, a blurry figure slowly becomes clearer. A balding head, flannel shirt, and denim jacket. Another blow from the side jostles him in the chair, causing his head to loll around. “What the hell, man?!” Eddie shoots up and looks around wildly. Still half asleep with no idea what’s going on. It takes a few seconds to register the person standing next to the recliner. His uncle. “C’mon! I was so close. We only had like two songs left.”

“The only thing you’re close to gettin’ is a boot up your backside,” Wayne whispers in annoyance, putting a hand on his hip. “Get your narrow behind up.” 

What a way to wake someone up. He runs a hand over his face, having a hard time finding the energy to move. Mornings are not his thing. Probably never will be. 

Groaning tiredly, he blinks a few times and tries to rub the sleep away. This is bullshit. Laying back down is so tempting but his uncle might kick him instead of the chair next time. “I’m up. I’m up.” Eddie raises his hands, not wanting another round of whatever Wayne’s dishing out. The previous night slowly comes to the surface as his eyes dart across the living room. 

‘Oh shit.’

The TV’s still on, playing infomercials that no one wants to see. None of the lights in the kitchen or bedroom were turned off. This month’s electric bill is going to be a little less pretty. And on the couch is Chrissy Cunningham. Still dead asleep with his uncle’s blue and white Colt’s throw covering her lower half. The Hawkin’s cheer uniform top is on full display. 

“Kitchen. Now.” Wayne turns and walks the short distance to the kitchen area, standing behind the counter. The rack of cups partially hides his face but a finger curls in a ‘get your ass over here’ gesture. 

This sucks. He slides off the recliner and sleepily stumbles across the living room. Hopefully the bitching doesn’t wake Chrissy up. That would be embarrassing. Also, a bad way for the two to meet. His uncle is a really laid-back dude. This must’ve got under his skin. Stepping into the cramped space, he leans against the counter by the sink and crosses his arms. Yep. Nothing beats waking up and getting reamed first thing in the morning. 

“Why is there a cheerleader sleeping on my couch? And you in my chair?” Wayne questions in a hushed tone. The second one seems to be the bigger issue. God forbid someone else moves in on his ass space. 

“What, would you rather find us in my bed?” It’s too early for this. His brain and mouth are totally out of sync. Hearing that come from his own lips fully wakes him up, painfully aware of how it sounds. “It’s… a long story.” He shrugs, praying to whoever will listen that Chrissy is still knocked out. 

“I see.” The older man rubs his chin, looking at him mindfully. “Well, it’s already quarter to six. Ya’ll got school soon. At least wake the girl so you can take her home to get washed up.” 

The clock on the wall reads 5:46. Balls early in the morning. School starts at eight. Normally, he gets up with only fifteen minutes left before rushing out. Chicks probably need a lot more time. It might take hours. Who knows? He didn't think about any of that and figured they could go together. That was stupid. Aside from getting ready, the last thing Chrissy would probably want is for someone to see her hopping out of his van. “Okay. Got it.” 

Satisfied with the response, his uncle nods and grabs his keys off the counter. “Don’t run off too quick. I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” 

“Around the block.” He trudges out of the kitchen on that note. The front door opens and closes quietly as Wayne leaves, being unnecessarily vague for no reason. 

‘Whatever.’ 

Now comes the hard part. Eddie sighs while looking over the counter at the small figure lying on the couch. This majorly blows. Some people can be a real pain to get up. There’s no point in beating around the bush. Just dive in and get it done. Stepping across the rug, he stops next to the old piece of furniture and crouches down. Staring. She looks so peaceful sleeping, with an arm hanging over the edge and her lips parted, breathing softly. Ruining that is a shame. 

“Chrissy?” Nothing. Not even a twitch. He gently nudges her shoulder. “Chrissy, wake up.” A little mewl slips out as she shifts on the cushion, turning away from him. 

‘Fuck! I can’t do it.’

“I hate to do this but I gotta get you up. C’mon… Chrissy?” Reaching out, he rubs her upper arm and gives it a little shake, hoping that will do the trick. She groans and rolls back towards him. Thankfully, that seemed to work. Her eyes flutter open and land on him, slowly coming into focus. 

“What time is it?” The cheerleader’s voice is tired, yet still sweet. Like she’s not even bothered that someone shook her awake. It’s nice. A sound he wouldn’t mind hearing in the mornings. 

“It’s, uh—” Glancing down at the watch he forgot to take off, a frown forms on his face. Now time is flying. The quicker it goes, the faster she leaves. “It’s almost six.”

“Oh,” Chrissy pushes on the cushion to sit up. It’s clear she’s still a bit out of it, slowly teetering with her eyes barely open. Getting a little sleep did some good. The shadows aren’t nearly as bad as last night. At least this place was of some use to her, even for something like that. “Sorry for last night.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for.” He chuckles, watching her gradually become more alert. Almost immediately she starts doing a check. Rubbing any smeared makeup from below her eyes, smoothing out that cheer skirt, feeling to see if her ponytail is out of sorts. It is, probably from moving around on the cushion. She pulls out the large green scrunchie and gathers up all her loose hair, trying to make it look neat again. 

‘That’s the first thing she does? I usually need to take a piss.'

The front door swings open and Wayne comes striding in, holding a plastic shopping bag. His eyebrows raise seeing Chrissy sitting up with his nephew crouching down on the rug in front of her. “Well, good mornin’ you two.” The older man purses his lips, giving Eddie a look. One that gets thrown around when he’s expecting good behavior. As if that’s an issue here. He probably has the wrong idea of what’s going on anyway. “Miss, don’t think I’ve seen you ‘round here before.” He plops down on his recliner, making it rock while observing them curiously. 

“I’m Chrissy. Nice to meet you, Mr. Munson.” She straightens up and folds her hands in her lap, all prim and proper. So flustered. A light blush spreads across her cheeks as she shyly turns her gaze towards the floor. 

'Christ, she’s too much. What a gum drop.'

“Call me Wayne. Mr. Munson sounds too formal.” The curiosity in his eyes is apparent as they flicker between the two and as far as Eddie's concerned, says way too damn much. Then he slips a hand in the shopping bag, pulling out something wrapped in aluminum foil. “Here.” When it smacks against his chest, he already knows what it is. “Thought you might be hungry. Not much time to cook anythin' decent before ya’ll gotta head out.” A breakfast sandwich. “Pick one. Bacon or sausage?”

His uncle turns towards Chrissy. She seems almost startled, as if not expecting to be included in this. “I, um… Well… bacon?” 

“Good choice.” Instead of tossing it, Wayne leans over to hand it to her. “Do you want a drink?”

“Thank you. I—” Eddie’s already heading to the kitchen to fill up a glass of water from the sink for her. Unless she wants a beer with breakfast, they have nothing else at the moment. After smoking last night, there’s probably some serious cotton mouth going on. 

When he sits down on the couch, she takes the cup and quickly sips from it. Yep. Her mouth is probably dry as hell. His uncle gets up to switch on the local news and they sit together in comfortable silence listening to the happenings going on in this boring little town while eating breakfast. 

‘This is wild.’ 

It’s strange trying to wrap his head around the situation. All there is to do is go with the flow. That seems to work out best so far. Might as well enjoy it while it lasts. 

Eddie finishes scarfing down the sandwich when he notices something out of the corner of his eye. Shivering. It’s not apparent right away but he can see it in her hands. Chrissy stares down at the unraveled square of aluminum foil, eyes wide and complexion pale. She holds the last few bites of one half, while the other sits there waiting to be eaten. A trickle of sweat runs down her temple and she visibly gulps. 

That’s a weird reaction. Does it taste bad? He’s had these sandwiches countless times. The little ma-and-pa shop that makes them is one of the best in town. Cheap, convenient, and hits the spot. No, that’s not it. She’s struggling. It’s clear with each tiny bite. Is she trying to force herself to finish it? 

He gnaws on the inside of his cheek while thinking of what to do. She seems like the kind of person who’s too nice to say no when put on the spot. His uncle's the type to keep feeding someone until they burst. That’s a bad combo. 

‘If I’m wrong about this, I’m about to look like the biggest asshole ever.’

Snatching the other half of the breakfast sandwich from her lap, Eddie sticks his tongue out and licks along the edge of it. Far more dramatically than necessary. She gasps, staring at him in shock as he grins widely. “Mine now.” 

“Dangit, Eddie! Why you gotta be a pig? There’s another one if you’re that hungry.” Wayne yanks off his hat, throwing it at him. The brim smacks against the side of his head and falls onto the cushion. “Sorry ‘bout that. He’s a good fella, I swear. Just can’t help himself sometimes. Do you want another one? It’s not bacon but that’s all I got left.” 

“No, that’s alright. Thank you. It was really good. I’m already full.” Chrissy laughs nervously, placing a hand on her stomach. Seeing the way she visibly relaxes now that the food’s gone is telling. He has a few theories, yet nothing concrete to confirm any of them. 

When his uncle's attention finally goes back to the news, she looks at him with a small, appreciative smile. Hell. That was a close one. Messing that up would’ve made him seem like such a huge jerk. 

“What’s this?” Tossing a wrapper into the bag, Wayne leans forward in his chair to get a better look at the tiny TV screen. ‘Urgent News’ in bold red letters runs across the top and a lady in a tan blazer comes on, standing outside the police station. A picture of a young man pops on screens with a list of details below it. Name, height, weight, distinguishing features, last known location. “I don’t believe it. That’s Danny Gibson. Johnny’s boy.” He scratches his head, staring at the report in disbelief. “Nice kid. Can’t see him getting into trouble. Just works on his dad’s farm and minds his business. I swear, the last few years… It’s been nothin’ but craziness.”

“Thanks a lot. For everything, I mean.” 

Eddie takes a quick peek at the cheer captain as they pass the fancy sign for her neighborhood. What a difference six or seven hours of rest can make. She has a little more pep in her step. The signs of fatigue that were apparent these last two weeks are practically gone. That only gets him more curious about what’s going on. It’s not his place to pry though. 

“Yeah, no biggie.” He waves it off nonchalantly, blowing smoke out the window. The rows of large houses come into view and it’s a bit of a downer. 

“I don’t remember falling asleep. That stuff knocked me out. I hope I wasn’t a pain in the butt?” Seeing the concerned look on Chrissy’s face, he really wants to reach over and pinch her cheeks. What a worrywart. Overthinking things and trying not to put people out. There’s nothing wrong with a little self-care, even if it means needing someone’s help. It’s not like he wasn’t a willing participant. That was established upfront. 

“No, no. You’re good. It wasn’t a problem. At all. If anything, you took it like a champ. Some people get all goofy and wig the hell out. You should’ve seen me the first time. Hoo boy!” He snorts, flashing a crooked grin. That puts her at ease. She turns to look out the window and he can see her lips curling up from the side. 

‘That’s the ticket.’

Nothing interesting happened his first time. It was Indiana dirt that sucked ass. He was more tired than high. If he had this current shit back then, his younger teenage self would've been laid right out. Still, if it makes her feel better to think he was a mess, then that’s fine with him. 

“So, uh, where do you want me to drop you off? Same place?” They’re heading down Douglas now. He already figured their meeting spot last night was a distance from her actual home. If neighbors or her dad catch a glimpse of Chrissy crawling out of this piece of crap van so early in the morning, and with a dude who isn’t her boyfriend.

Eddie isn’t ignorant enough to not understand the optics or how folks on this side of town are. All they care about is appearances. Their reputation. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what they’ll say about her. The well-off are bored and love to gossip. They won’t hesitate to knock each other down a peg. Eat one of their own for fun. Salacious stories are always the best and spread the quickest. 

Personally, he doesn’t give two shits. Let the nosy bastards talk all they want. He’d park right out front, walk her to the door, and flip off anyone watching. Daddy big bucks included. Not wanting to cause her problems gets in the way of that. There’s no telling what her dad or Carver might do. She’s the one that has to deal with them.

“Mhm. That’s fine.” As the corner of Rosaline comes into view, she sighs and sinks back into the seat. Someone isn't thrilled to go home. 

‘Not the only one.’

Parking in the same spot as last night, he tosses the rest of his cigarette out the window and rolls it up. This could be it.  Looking over, she’s staring down at the fingers playing with the hem of her uniform. Hesitant. Is that a good sign? Guess it's better than her running off as soon as the van stopped. 

“Oh!” Eddie leans down to grab the pail off the floor. Maybe she just needs a little something to take her mind off the bullshit. Lighten the mood. Flipping the top open, he pulls out a bag and tosses it onto her lap. “Here, princess. That seemed to help with your sleeping problem. I don’t recommend doing it before school. Not yet, anyway. You’ll get clocked right off the bat.”

Chrissy's hands fly up as she looks down in surprise. “Are you... Are you giving this to me?” 

“Yeah, yeah. I know. What a lethal blow to my profit margins. Might put me out of business. Don’t even know if I’ll get my footing again after this one.” A wide smile spreads across his face. He can’t hold it in. The way she reacts to certain things gets to him. 

She gently touches the bag. Those large blue eyes stare at him, filled with uncertainty. It makes him shift in his seat. “Well, then at least take this.” Grabbing onto the bottom of her skirt, she pulls it up, exposing the pale skin of her upper thighs. 

And giving him an aneurysm.

His eyes widen into saucers as he almost swallows his tongue in shock. He can't manage to pick his jaw up, let alone ask what the hell she’s doing. Yet Chrissy seems unfazed. Beneath her skirt are the tiny shorts cheerleaders wear. She reaches into a mini pocket on the side to fish around for something. 

‘Christ!’

That thin scrap of spandex hardly passes for shorts. They ride up, showing every little dip and curve. He tears his gaze away to focus on something random outside. A tree. Yeah, and the leaves blowing in the frigid morning air. Super interesting. Sucking his lips in, he pushes out deep breaths through his nose, trying to simmer down. Is this chick genuinely innocent or is this some sort of teasing? He’s really not sure. Last night doesn’t count because she was high. Not in her right mind. Maybe she’s hungover and still isn’t? 

“Here.” A small, outstretched hand holds out a few bills to him. The fifteen dollars they talked about.

“Nah, it’s cool. Don’t worry about that. It’s a gift.” Despite saying that, it doesn’t seem to sit well with her. She sticks out her bottom lip in a pouty expression and pushes the money toward him again. 

‘Dammit. If she wasn’t so cute…’

“Fine. Fine. I’ll take this for now but it’s coming back around. Mark my words.” Reluctantly taking the money, it gets tossed into the glove compartment. For later. Even if he can’t say no to her, it doesn’t mean she’s winning this. That money will find its way to its owner. One way or another. 

Chrissy smirks, apparently pleased she got her way. The urge to pinch her cheeks is more tempting now. “Thanks for giving me a ride home. I guess I’ll see you at school?” The last part comes out awkwardly like she’s unsure. She straightens out her skirt before grabbing the door handle. 

Eddie nods and grips the side of the steering wheel. Nothing smart comes to mind for once. There’s a sense of discontentment that makes him want to sigh. It’s stupid, he knows. That still doesn’t change anything. 

“Actually,” His brows raise when she closes the door and turns back to him. “Can you hold onto this for me? For next time? Now that I’m thinking about it… If my dad accidentally found this, he’d kill me. I don’t know what to do with it anyway.” She looks up at him from under those long lashes, pinching the top of the bag between her fingers. 

‘For next time.’

“Gotcha.” It’s hard to hide the grin tugging at his lips when he takes it from her. “It’ll be right here when you want it.” Tossing it back into the pail, he closes it and pats the top. They look at each other for a long moment before she breaks it off to hop out. 

‘There she goes.’

Pulling out a cigarette from the pack, he shoves it in the corner of his mouth while staring in the rearview mirror. Watching the petite figure slowly getting further away until it disappears around the corner. 

“Hah.” Eddie turns on the radio and runs a hand through his unruly hair. He’s not sure what he expected from any of this. The last twenty-four hours really threw him through a loop. It still is. And there’s an odd sensation spreading across his chest. It’s light and warm. Feels nice. 

Hopefully, it lingers for a while longer.

“Darn it.” Chrissy pants, pulling herself over the windowsill. This would be so much easier if she was a little taller. Getting to her feet, she gasps seeing the time. The clock on the nightstand reads 7:16. Jason will be here in less than twenty minutes. A shower will have to wait until after school. The morning went by faster than expected. 

‘Where do I even start?!’

Her eyes dart all over the large bedroom. There’s too much to do just to look presentable. Normal. So no one asks questions or makes comments. She runs around the place frantically while keeping an eye on the time. Throwing the uniform on the floor, slipping into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeve blue shirt. Brushing out her hair. Styling the ponytail without the twist. Reapplying a light layer of makeup and wiping away any smudges. Putting on a dab of perfume.

Taking a look in the mirror, she huffs and settles for being content with her appearance. It’ll have to do for now. All done in about ten minutes. Not too shabby. 

‘Good. Great. Wonderful. Can’t believe it.’

Her mind is all over the place. After getting some sleep, there’s more energy flowing through her than in the last few weeks put together. Almost enough to burst into a million pieces. So much is going on. There isn’t time to digest any of it right now. She dashes down the stairs and stops at the entrance to grab her pink bookbag. Jason will be out front in about five minutes. He’s rarely ever late. 

“Chrissy.” 

It’s like someone dumped a bucket of ice water down her back. Dousing the little flame reignited inside her before it really had a chance to spread. She freezes on the spot, realizing how incredibly stupid she is. 

“You weren’t in your room.” There’s no question or room for doubt. He knows for a fact she wasn’t here. Probably checked at some point during the night. Of course. After being distant and not seeming to care for the last week, he finally does when she leaves without asking for permission. 

Slowly turning around, she takes in a deep breath before facing him. “Yeah, sorry.” What else is there to say? She didn’t come up with any excuses or a decent alibi like a dumdum. Sleeping over Eddie’s wasn’t part of the plan. She got so wrapped up in it all that dealing with her dad wasn’t at the top of the list. 

‘He looks so exhausted.’

This kind of situation should’ve caused an explosion. Not that she ever pulls anything like leaving and staying out all night without telling anyone. They’re treading through unfamiliar waters. His reactions to small stuff alone over the last year were always enough to deter her from pushing any buttons. 

“You’re grounded this weekend. No going out. No boyfriend, friends, calls, television, music, no anything. Only homework, studying, and chores. Do you hear me? And if you dare step out of line one more time, you’ll be sorry. I’ll make it a month.” His angry voice doesn’t match his appearance. The bags under his eyes are worse now and she didn’t notice it before but he lost some weight. 

“I can’t listen to music, anyway. You broke my walkman.” She internally kicks herself as soon as it comes out. It was a snarky little thought that slipped right past her lips. 

“Don’t start getting mouthy with me. Understand?” The frustration in his aging features intensifies as he takes a step forward. He’s mad. The look in his eyes frightens her. Gathering up any bit of courage left, she slowly nods, hoping it’ll appease him. 

A horn starts honking outside. Jason is here.

“Tell Jason I’m disappointed. It better not happen again or I’ll ground you from him for a month and have a talk with his father.” He looks at her expectantly, only backing off when she quickly nods once more. “Now get going. You both don’t need to be late.” 

The weight on her chest lifts when he turns away to head down the hall. That could’ve gone a lot worse. Thankfully, it didn’t. 

Hearing the horn blare again, she snatches up her bookbag and scurries out. The black Jeep is in the same spot as always. For once, she’s genuinely grateful it's impeccable timing. Her dad wouldn’t want to make him late. He’s the star of the show, after all. 

Chrissy runs across the lawn and hops into the passenger side, tossing her belongings on the floor. “Hey.” She leans over to kiss him on the cheek. The same thing that happens every morning. 

“Morning, babe.” Scratching the skin above the collar of his polo, Jason eyes her curiously. “Something’s… off.” She squirms against the seat as he inspects her. “I'm not sure what it is. Are you wearing different makeup?”

“Y–Yeah. New foundation.” Her lips pull back in an attempt to smile. It fails. 

“I knew it. Nothing gets past me.” Jason slaps the steering wheel, practically beaming with self-satisfaction. “Remember that.” He waggles his brows and revs the engine. The radio’s turned on to a popular station as the Jeep takes off, peeling down Roseline Drive.

“I will.”

‘Ten more minutes.'

Sighing, Chrissy looks away from the clock above the door. The bell will ring soon. Homeroom ends, then they have a short window until first period starts. English with Mr. Nocito, her least favorite teacher. Those long essays are a real pain in the butt.

‘I feel so much better.’

A good night’s sleep really does wonders. It’s like the last few weeks didn’t happen. At least, it’s easier to pretend they didn’t. Taking a leap of faith and trying something new was the best decision she’s made in a while. That worked out better than expected, despite her dad being upset again. Maybe a joint would help him too? He could use more rest than a power nap. Just imagining him smoking makes her giggle. That’ll never happen. 

When the bell finally rings, everyone in class shuffles out of the room and into the hallway. She takes her time, letting others go ahead while humming a little tune. There’s no rush. Moseying around won’t hurt anyone. 

“Chrissy, can I talk to you for a minute?” The homeroom teacher, Mrs. Clarke, calls out before reaching the doorway. 

“Sure?” Gripping onto the bookbag strap, she slowly walks back and stops right in front of the large desk. The older woman looks apologetic as she holds out a small yellow piece of paper. Taking it hesitantly, her eyes widen from realizing what it is. 

A detention slip.

“I tried talking to Principal Higgins. The most I could do was get them to schedule it for Tuesday so it won’t interfere with practice.” 

Chrissy stares despondently at the bold print and inked handwriting. Detention. Her. For sleeping in class, ‘disrespecting’ a teacher, and running off yesterday. That already seems like a lifetime ago. 

“Don’t worry. It’s only thirty minutes. You can do homework or read a book, and it’ll be over before you know it.” Mrs. Clarke is hoping to make it sound not as bad as it really is. Does she look upset? Enough that a teacher needs to cheer her up?

“...Okay.” 

Stepping out into the hall, she crumples the slip in her hand. Ridiculous. All these years and not one infraction on her record. Not a single one and over something so silly? It would’ve made more sense for this to come from Ms. O’Donnell. She actually skipped her class entirely. 

“Hey, Chris.”

She squeals when two arms wrap around her waist and lift her off the floor, doing a little twirl. Jason's thrilled about something. The moment she’s set down, he jumps into kissing her face, jaw, and neck. 

“What are you doing?!” Chrissy pushes against his chest to put some distance between them. Everyone can see. The halls are full of students hanging around. He’s never been huge on that kind of PDA, so what gives?

“Andy showed me the article in the paper about us winning the game yesterday and officially being in the sectionals. Now all of Hawkins knows too. We’re on the path to getting that trophy.” His eyes light up mentioning the newspaper. Everyone who was there understood what that win meant and so does the entire town.

“That’s great!” She claps her hands and jumps up and down excitedly. Getting over each hurdle is a huge personal victory for him as captain. So is being in the paper and receiving recognition for his hard work. 

“We have our amazing cheerleaders to thank for keeping us motivated.” He grins, cupping the sides of her face. His thumbs run along the tinge of pink spreading across her cheeks, becoming flustered by the compliments. “Especially the squad leader. The most beautiful girl in all of Hawkins. I’m a lucky guy.” 

“No, I’m the lucky one.” It's hard not to deflate at that. There are plenty of better-looking girls in this town. On the team alone, she can name a handful that put her to shame. 

Jason just pushes aside her bangs and leans in to plant a kiss on her forehead. “Do you remember what next Friday is?” 

“What?” Next Friday? Chrissy blinks, drawing a blank. Is it one of those random anniversaries? Some couples celebrate certain milestones that seem arbitrary. Two weeks, one month, two months, a hundred days, six months.

“Come on. Take a guess. You know this.” He drops his hands and sets them on his hips, staring at her expectantly. She doesn’t have a clue. If it has to do with the exact day they started dating, then she’s in trouble. Keeping track wasn't important.

While trying to think of what he’s talking about, her eyes roam around in hopes that something will trigger an answer. Looking past him, a familiar design catches her attention. It sticks out like a sore thumb among the row of gray lockers. That red devilish face and yellow eyes with a white background. Not one but four of them. 

‘Eddie…’

Chrissy's face warms up. He’s leaning back against the lockers with his arms crossed over his chest. She can smell the scent of cigarette smoke just from looking at him. Three other members are near him with one riffling through his locker. A freshman if she recalls correctly. The other two are upperclassmen talking animatedly about something, possibly having a heated debate. 

Eddie doesn’t look too happy. Nothing like last night or this morning. That demeanor reminds her of why she was scared of him in the first place. His frown deepens as those dark eyes narrow in their direction and she's not sure who it's meant for. As soon as they make eye contact, he breaks it off. He turns his back to her and jumps into the conversation with the other members. All she’s left with is a view of that crazy hair and the large patch on his denim vest. 

‘Ouch.’ 

An uncomfortable emotion surfaces. Sadness? Disappointment? It doesn’t feel good. Is he angry? Perhaps he thinks she’s a nutjob because of yesterday and was being nice earlier. No one can blame him if that’s what it is. 

“Chris?” A hand clasps her chin and draws it back to the current situation. He sounds a bit peeved. 

“Sorry. I was thinking.” She chuckles and gently takes his hand in her own. “So, what’s the answer? I’m coming up with nothing.” Poking out her bottom lip, she makes a pouty face—his weakness—and presses his palm against her cheek. It's warm and incredibly smooth. That was a surprise when they started dating. 

“It’s… It’s Valentine’s Day.” Jason says slowly, gawking. He suddenly pulls his hand away and shakes off the stupor. “Be prepared. I have something special planned for us.” 

“Sounds fun! I’m looking forward to it.” Time’s flying by. Valentine’s Day is already next week? That means her birthday is right around the corner. She'll finally be eighteen. A legal adult. 

“Alright. I’ll see you later, babe.” First period’s starting soon. A quick kiss and wink, then he’s off. Making his way through the crowded halls and running into Patrick, leaving her to stare at the back of his varsity jacket until it’s out of sight. 

‘I need to get going, too.’

Mr. Nocito's class is down the next hallway. That means having to go past the Hellfire crew. Great. If only Charlotte, Natalie, or any of the other cheerleaders were here. Being with them would make her feel a lot more confident. 

‘I’m a captain. Hold that head up high and walk by, you dweeb.’ 

Chrissy does just that. Balling the bottom of her sleeves into tiny fists, she takes a deep breath and strides down the hall. Briskly passing the group while keeping her eyes locked straight ahead. If Eddie's scowl was meant for her instead of Jason, she might make a run for it. It’s better to avoid looking to not find out. 

Relief doesn’t come until stepping through the doorway to Nocito’s room. That’s done with. Dropping her bookbag on the desk, she wonders if they’re going back to being strangers again. Just act as if the last day never happened. Maybe that’s for the best.

“Oh no!” Panic sets in as she checks her pockets and rummages through her bookbag. Nothing. It’s gone. The detention slip Mrs. Clarke gave her in homeroom.  

‘Where did I put it?!’

Class starts in a few minutes. Smacking a hand against her forehead, Chrissy looks up at the ceiling, trying to remember what she did with it. The teacher handed it over. She left the room and crinkled it, and then Jason came. It must’ve dropped when he picked her up. 

Dashing into the hallway, she looks all over the place for it, scanning the floor for a yellow slip. It has her name on it and everything. If the wrong person picks that up… What awful luck. The first time getting one and it's already lost. 

The bell rings for first period. Too late. Sighing, Chrissy drags herself back to Nocito’s to avoid getting another detention. It'll be fine. Soon the janitor will go around and throw that out with any other trash left behind. 

The next few days fly by and before she knows it, Tuesday arrives. They were normal. Uneventful. The way it’s supposed to be. Nothing strange to make her question her own sanity. Such a relief. Nights were finally for sleeping again, and her stomach could handle more than a few bites in a sitting. 

What happened the past two weeks doesn't seem real. Maybe it wasn't. Perhaps those were the creations of a mind desperate for relief. Either way, it’s done and over now. 

“I’m so glad to hear that. You look much happier, too. That is what's important.” Ms. Kelly says as she writes down a few notes. It’s nice to have a good appointment for once. “Is there anything you can pinpoint that might’ve had a positive impact? That could be helpful information for down the road.”

‘For when I’m messed up again.’

Chrissy’s thoughts immediately settle on one thing but she can’t tell the guidance counselor about that. Absolutely not. Even if she occasionally confides in her, some things need to be left private. 

“Nothing in particular. Guess I’m just having a good week. Well, except for the detention and everything.” There’s not much to say about that. She shrugs it off. “It’s been alright.”

“That’s a step in the right direction. Oh, before you go, there's something I wanted to mention. I’ve been thinking about the situation with your father. Since you said he won't see a professional and you’re having a hard time talking to him in person, I was thinking of ways to work around that.” 

“Yeah?” She can’t imagine what Ms. Kelly has in mind. Tricking him into a doctor’s office? Trying to do it over the phone? A house call? 

“How about writing a letter? Scribble down all the thoughts and feelings you want to express to him and leave it somewhere you know he’ll find it. Unlike talking face-to-face, that will give you time to think of exactly what you want to say and a chance for him to let it sink in.”

It sounds silly. They live in the same house. Talking should be easy, yet it’s not. There’s a distance between them that seems insurmountable. Not that their relationship was close before. Like her mother's health, it followed the same path. Only getting worse and worse until there was nothing that could be done to change the situation. 

“That’s not a bad idea. I’ll think about it.” With a letter, he can't cut her off. No intimidation tactics. Everything will be there in black and white. He can choose to read it, ignore it, or toss it in the trash. The ball will be in his corner at that point. 

“Good! It doesn’t hurt to try.” The counselor sets her pen down, flipping the notepad back to its front. It’s almost time for the next appointment. 

‘It might.’

Once they're done, she grabs her bookbag and rushes out. Coming here always brings out a sense of shame. It shouldn’t. That’s another part of her mindset that needs to change. To try seeing things through a healthier lens, instead of mixing everything with a heavy dose of guilt and embarrassment.

“You have detention? How?!” Jason slams the Jeep door and turns around, folding his arms. 

“I fell asleep in Nocito's class and... Let's just say he wasn't very happy and wrote me up.” Saying it out loud makes it sound even more ridiculous. People do a lot worse than napping in this building. 

“Of course he did. That prick. Bet he did it because you’re my girlfriend and he hates my dad.” His eyes narrow in annoyance. “I’ll talk to my dad and see if he can convince Higgins to take this off your record. It’s bullshit.”

Chrissy sighs and pecks him on the lips. “Thanks but it's not a big deal. I should’ve been more careful. I don't want—” 

“No, Chris. I said I'll take care of it. This is bullshit and you know it.” They hold each other's gaze. He's not backing down. He won't. It's useless to argue about it. “Do you want me to wait? I’ll give you a ride home.”

'This is only going to make things worse. Why can't he ever listen to me?'

“That’s okay. My dad’s coming to get me today. Sorry I didn’t mention it before. It slipped my mind.” 

“Really? That’s a surprise. If he's got it then okay. I'll see you later.” Pulling her into a tight embrace, he gives a goodbye kiss before hopping into his Jeep. 

Now that Jason’s leaving, all that’s left is to get this over with. It’s only a half-hour. Not a big deal. Still, something is bothering her. She lied to him. Her dad doesn’t even know she has detention. 

It came right out. There wasn't a good reason for it, except not wanting to be an inconvenience. He’s got other things to do besides sit around for thirty minutes to give her a ride home. The problem is that she doesn’t have a way back now. Charlotte would probably swing by. If not, perhaps Kimmy or Val might. She can use the payphone outside of the school to call someone. 

Detention is held in a room at the end of a hall on the first floor. Further away from most other classes. That’s one thing to be grateful for. The chances of a random student walking by and seeing who’s in there are pretty slim. 

When passing through the doorway, Chrissy’s surprised to find it empty. Of people, anyway. It’s like every other classroom with desks, shelves, and motivational posters on the wall. Part of her expected it to be bare like a jail cell. A man in his late twenties sits at a large desk in the back, reading a book. Mr. Apice. A substitute teacher who also runs detention. She slowly pads across the tiled floor, unsure of what to do. Just take a seat? Is she supposed to sign in?

“You need something, Cunningham?” A deep voice asks from behind the book, lowering it to get a look at her. He arches a brow that’s partially hidden by his wavy dirty-blond hair. From that appearance, she would’ve mistaken him for a beachboy or skater instead of a teacher.

“I’m here for detention.” 

Mr. Apice tilts his chin down and regards her for a moment then laughs. A real belly-buster. Like it’s the funniest joke he’s ever heard. It makes her want to smack him with his own book. Realizing she isn’t kidding from her expression, the forced cackling abruptly stops. He gives her a curious glance before moving papers around on the desk, searching for something. “Here it is. Well, I’ll be damned. Your name really is on here. Shit.”

Chrissy gasps, covering her mouth in shock. She never heard a teacher curse on purpose before. 

“What could you have possibly done?” The amusement in his eyes grinds her gears. Does everyone think she’s incapable of breaking the rules? That’s bull. She skipped a class last week. That’s not something a goody-two-shoes would do. “So you wanna be silent now, huh? You know, it always starts off with the little things. Sleeping in class, getting mouthy with teachers, playing hooky here and there. Senioritis starts kicking in. You quit caring. Suddenly you're flunking and getting into real trouble. That’s how these things work. Just ask this one.” He smirks, tapping his book against the edge of the desk.

‘What the hell is he even talking about? And why did he ask me what I got written up for if he already knew?’

“That's not how it went with me. You got it all backwards." 

Eddie comes strolling in and finds a seat in the back row to plop down on—without sparing her a single glance. Yeah, it’s fair to assume they’re not jibing. He slaps that old pail on the desk and leans back, kicking his feet up on the chair in front of him. 

“You can sit and do whatever. I don’t care. Just do your time and don’t get on my nerves.” 

She nods and makes her way to an empty desk. One in the front row on the opposite side of the room. Away from the other two. It seems like luck is not on her side. Not only does she get stuck with one of the weirdest teachers in the entire building but it’s on a day that Eddie has detention, too. What a coincidence.

Might as well keep busy. That should make the time go by faster. Pulling a notebook out of her bookbag, she flips through the pages to find the place where she left off two periods ago. The letter for her dad that Ms. Kelly suggested. Even if no one ever sees this, it's pretty cathartic to write it. This is a good chance to pour everything out. Still, she’s doing it under the assumption he will read it. Too much thought is put into each word with that in mind. Maybe that’s the wrong way to go about it.

“Hey, stranger. What are you working on? Homework?” Chrissy jumps and slams her notebook shut. When did he slip into the seat next to her? She didn’t even notice. Trying to ignore the heat flaring up in her face, she stares down at the desk to avoid looking at him. “Oh, I see. It’s super secret. A diary entry? Or a love letter?”

“Knock it off, Munson. You’re not slick. Flirt on your own time.”

“Bite me, waver.” Eddie spits out, turning in his seat to face the teacher. It gives her the chance to sneak a peek at him without getting all flustered. If he’s trying to make small talk, then that means he’s not mad at her, right? 

“Get a haircut, you bum.” 

"Why don't you come over here and give me one, you washed-up cleric."

The more they go back and forth, the more shocked she is. This does not sound like a conversation between teacher and student. Just a scattered string of insults but they don’t even seem mad. More like they’re getting a kick out of it. 

“Look, we both want something.” Apice leans across the desk and raises his hands. “You want to graduate. I want a full-time gig. That’s not gonna happen if you keep getting us both in trouble with that old harpy next door. Higgins was up my ass last week about the noise again so do us both a favor and zip it when you’re in here. Okay? There’s like twenty minutes left.” 

‘I don’t think the noise is the only problem.’

“Whatever, man.” Eddie drops back against his seat and crosses his arms. It doesn’t last long. Only a few minutes pass before he starts fidgeting, loudly tapping a sneaker against the floor and drumming his fingers on the desk. Unable to sit still. 

Chrissy can't help noticing how revved up he is. Too much energy with nowhere for it to go. He slides off the chair and heads over to the table near the door to grab a few things. Loose leaf paper and pens. The moment he sits down, he flicks the cap off one to start doodling. 

A small smile plays on her lips as she opens the notebook again. Knowing he’s not angry or trying to pretend they’re strangers changes things. There’s no reason to be worried. Maybe it was too early to assume anything. She goes back to working on the letter, feeling more upbeat now than in the last couple of days. 

‘I should put it all in. Pull no punches.’

This is harder than originally planned. Opening up to someone who wants to keep themselves at arm's length all the time is no easy feat. She goes over the words already there, trying to formulate the next line.

A folded-up piece of paper lands on the notebook. Chrissy stares at it in wonder. Did he really? She steals a glance at him from the side to see what he’s up to. It's not looking at her, that's for sure. Eddie’s leaning against his elbow, facing the opposite direction with his shoulders raised high enough to touch his ears. The free hand holding a pen is moving nonstop. Working intently on a drawing of a monster gripping a weapon that has something—probably blood—dripping from the spikes. It’s more detailed than she expected with the short time he’s been going at it.

‘Wow. He’s really good. I didn’t know he enjoys drawing.'

Picking up the note, a wave of anticipation washes over her. She quickly unravels the page and lays it flat against the book. Her brows knit together glossing over the scratchy handwriting, carefully taking in all the details. 

You want to go to the picnic spot after this and—        

At the end of the sentence is a doodle of a guy’s face with messy hair poking out from beneath a bandana. A joint hangs from his lips as a stream of smoke soars upward. The eyes are what really get her. Large circles with huge dilated pupils that are meant to be bloodshot from the visible blood vessels in them and heavy eyelids. 

‘He wants to go back to the forest and smoke? Why there? Because it’s close?’

Chrissy reaches up to grab a lock of hair to twirl around her finger. She feels light. Light enough to float all the way up to the ceiling. There’s a fluttering in her stomach that’s getting stronger. 

‘What should I do?’

Jason would be furious if he found out. He absolutely despises Eddie. As his girlfriend, the right thing to do is stay away out of respect. A good partner should try to understand their significant other’s feelings and avoid willingly crossing boundaries.

But she can't. 

Their little feud is absurd anyway. A bunch of nonsense. Also, Jason technically never said anything about hanging out with him. He doesn’t know. Probably couldn’t even imagine that as a possibility. It’s already happened before. She wants to go. Wants to see that big smile again and experience the warmth he’s capable of radiating. 

‘I’m going.’

Grabbing a pen, she sucks in her bottom lip and writes on the sheet. Sure. Then draws an arrow pointing at the doodle, adding pretty good with a small heart next to it. Satisfied, she folds the note back up tightly and holds out her hand, flicking it back at him. It lands right in his hair. He jolts, then reaches up to fish it out. 

She bites the nail on her thumb while silently watching his reaction. It’s so lame. Like a silly little girl in middle school getting giddy over absolutely nothing.

A leg bounces around under the desk as he reads the note, letting out a sharp exhale from his nose. Giving a discreet thumbs up is the only response she gets. The page gets folded up and slipped under the other papers. Thin creases around his mouth and eyes deepen from a grin partially hidden behind the fist he’s leaning against. 

‘Mom was right... I probably am going to hell.’

Chapter Text

"C'mon… Spill it."

"No way! You're just going to make fun of me." She's sure of it. A guy like him—whose life revolves around it—probably has very specific tastes and it's not whatever Billboard's pushing. Someone who's been extremely vocal in his distaste for anything mainstream. Getting called a little sheep would ruin the mood.

A chilly breeze rushes by and sends a shiver throughout her body. The weather's not nearly as bad as it has been recently. That's a plus. Many of the trees surrounding the clearing block the worst of it. This is a pretty nice day for the most part.

Moving her head against the pink bookbag she's using as a pillow, Chrissy glances the guy across from her. He must run hot. Last time they came here, he took his vest and jacket off as well. Now he's using them to prop his head up on the bench.

"I won't. Promise. I'm not like those assholes in band who think they're the authority on good music." Eddie takes another hit and stretches his long arm out under the picnic table to hand the joint to her. Thinking about it, the band kids are never spared in his rants. She thought they'd get along from having something in common. Guess not.

'I wonder if they insulted his taste in music?'

"Fine. You better keep your word."

"I swear. Cross my heart." A ringed finger draws a cross over his chest but she notices it's upside down. The horizontal line is far too close to the bottom. Cheeky guy.

"Alright. Billy Joel, first and foremost." She looks up toward the sky while trying to gather a decent list. "Fleetwood Mac, ABBA, Prince, Queen, Bowie, Hall & Oates, The Mamas and the Papas, Culture Club… Bananarama, Lionel Richie, some Madonna songs… That's, um, off the top of my head."

Eddie stares at her for a moment before his lips slip into a smirk. "Okay, I lied. I'm totally gonna judge you."

"You jerk!" Her face turns a bright shade of red as she leans over the side of the bench, grabbing a handful of leaves to toss at him. He finds that even more entertaining.

Truthfully, Chrissy can't remember the last time she smiled or laughed this much. It's strange. Despite getting flustered here and there, it still feels easier to let go. Unless it's the weed. Doesn't matter. She's enjoying this and doesn't want it to end.

"Just kidding. I definitely had you pegged as an ABBA fan, though. Call it musician's intuition." Seeing that shit-eating grin on his face makes her want to throw more leaves at him. Maybe some twigs, too. This punk sure likes to tease. Yet for some ungodly reason, it's hard to resist finding him kind of charming. 

'Stop that!'

"Is that good or bad?" She takes a hit and tries holding it in, making her eyes water up. So harsh. Handing it back quickly, it's mind-boggling how he smokes this all the time like it's nothing. Her lungs would tear themselves out to get away from the constant beating. 

"Neither, really. It's what you like. That's all that matters. Who gives a damn what other people think? Do what makes you happy, even if that means listening to Madonna." He chuckles, rolling onto his side to face her. Leaning on the crook of his elbow and letting his hand hang over the edge.

Laying like that gives her a good view of the tattoo on his right forearm. A hand with strings attached to some small puppet monster. The bats she's seen before. He also gave her a small peek at the one on his chest. How many does he have? Another thing to be curious about.

Sighing, she turns her gaze back to the sky. Focusing on the wisps of clouds floating by. "True. Unfortunately, that's not something I'm really good at… Not giving a damn, I mean."

"You're getting there. Slowly but surely. Someone who only cares about what others think wouldn't risk getting caught hanging out with the town 'freak', as they so lovingly call me." There's no bitterness in his voice. That doesn't seem to bother him. If anything, he must've already accepted that a while ago. Embraced the label. No one can weaponize it against him if he openly owns it.

Eddie leans forward to pass it back, letting his fingers linger on hers for a few moments too long. Grazing them. The cool metal of his rings touches her skin, making the cheerleader gasp. She tries to focus on the joint and not think too much of it. 

'Too late.'

Chrissy swallows hard, attempting to ignore the hammering in her chest. His fingers are rough. Callused. Probably from years of playing the guitar. Very different from Jason's hands. They're like night and day. The chilly February air isn't helping much anymore. Smoking this stuff is making her sweat.

"I like hanging out with you." 

"Same here." He exhales sharply, tapping his shoes together.

Taking another hit, she slowly lets the smoke pass through her lips. Watching as it pours into the cold air and dances upward. It's surprisingly beautiful to see. A sight she never imagined finding interest in. Then again, it seems like she's discovering all kinds of new things about herself recently.

"So, what are you plannin' on doing after you're done with this hellhole?"

"Well," After having this conversation so many times before, Chrissy's not thrilled to be going down this road again. Granted, it's different if he's the one asking. She still sighs and lays her head back. "The plan has been to go to IU Bloomington with Jason for accounting or marketing. Not sure yet. Nothing's official. I have to make a decision soon. I'm really cutting it close."

"Whose plan?"

"What?" The question takes her off guard. Shifting, she mirrors his position to observe him.

"Whose plan is that?" Eddie enunciates each word slowly so there's no misunderstanding. Her lips part to respond yet nothing comes out. The answer is obvious. Since freshman year, her parents and the Carvers tried pushing both of them down a certain path together. It only seemed natural. "I might be a little buzzed but I'm pretty sure I asked what are you planning?"

'Me?'

Such a simple question that should have a simple answer. That's not the case. Biting her lip, she tears her gaze away from him and aims it toward the ground, narrowing on some dead leaves. She can feel those dark eyes staring intently. Waiting. He could've accepted the initial answer and moved on, except that wasn't good enough. It's like he's trying to make a point.

"I… I don't know." Chrissy whispers, reaching up to clutch the '86 hanging from her necklace. No one really laid out options to choose from. Going along with the plan just seemed to be the path of least conflict. Everyone would be satisfied. Her parents were the ones with all the cards in their hands. Without them, she has nothing. No money, no home, no family, no opportunities, no choice.

"Huh. Is there anything that gets you excited? You know, gets your blood pumping from thinking about it? Some big dream you always wanted to accomplish?" He blows out a long stream of smoke, putting out the joint. "It's not the end of the world if you don't know yet. There's still time to dabble and figure out what you like."

"I used to. That was forever ago. When I was younger, I bugged my mom into taking me to dance classes every week. The drive was around forty-five minutes each way since there isn't a studio in Hawkins but I loved it. That was all I looked forward to. There was always something new to learn. So many styles to choose from. My teacher was the sweetest person and so talented. I wanted to be like her." Glancing up at the leaves swaying in the breeze, her features soften as the memories make their way to the surface.

It's been a while since thinking about any of this. Before things got out of hand and took a turn for the worst. Packing it away seemed to be the best choice. She can't be disappointed when it doesn't happen if it's not considered a possibility right from the start.

"Right before middle school, I guess it became too much of a pain in the butt for my mom. She got me to focus on cheerleading instead. For the longest time, I really wanted to have one of my own. A dance studio. Maybe open up the first in the area." Realizing that she's babbling, Chrissy stops herself. Too much. Way too much. A tidal wave of embarrassment washes over her from turning towards him and seeing his wide smile.

"Jeez! I must be high." She cries, shielding her reddened face with both hands. That's not enough. If only there was a way to turn invisible. Her feet kick, smacking against the picnic table bench like a kid throwing a tantrum.

Looking at him is making it so much worse. That expression. As if he's actually enjoying listening to this nonsense. "No, no. That's a good dream. You should do it! Go on, bring dancing to this shitty little town. You can be a hot chick version of Ren from Footloose."

'Hot chick?'

"You think? I don't know. It's been a while. I wouldn't even know where to start." Chrissy shyly tugs on the bottom of her long sleeves. "Not to mention my dad would go ballistic. Jason would tell him to have me committed."

"If that's what you want, then why not? You can always start taking lessons again. After we graduate, there's plenty of time to sort it all out." His long fingers start playing with the chain hanging from his belt loop. Tapping metal against metal. "And tell 'em to shove it. They're not the ones walking in your shoes. You don't want to wake up at fifty with a bunch of regrets just to make a few squares happy."

People in this town consider him a troublemaker yet she can't help feeling admiration for the guy. To live without regrets. That sounds nice. Almost too good to work in reality. It doesn't hurt to dream though, right?

"Mm. If only I had your balls..." She sighs deeply, thinking of how they'd react to being told off. It takes a moment to realize how off that sounded. Eddie's eyes widen a fraction as he flips onto his back and drapes an arm over his face. "I didn't mean to say it like that! I meant your, um, confidence. Not your… you know… those. I–I'm not a… Forget it! Can you act like I didn't say that?" 

"Absolutely not. You said what you said. I'm like an elephant. I never forget. And I won't let you forget it, either." Her mouth drops at his words. How cruel. Can't he show a little mercy for her being so incredibly awkward? "I'd say you can have 'em princess but I'm pretty fond of my boys. Think they've really grown attached to me."

"No! That's not what I meant!"

"Don't worry," Sitting up, he leans over the table with a crooked grin. "I knew what you were saying the first time. I was screwin' with you. C'mon. Wasn't gonna pass up the chance to see you dig that hole a little deeper. It's cute watching you get all embarrassed."

Chrissy stares up at him, not saying anything. Just gazing into his eyes. They're full of amusement and something else she can't quite recognize. So, he thinks it's cute? What a thing to say. 

"Like that. Your face is so damn red." Eddie snickers, covering his mouth with a hand.

"Sh—I don't want to hear that from you! Your ears and neck are just as bad. No, actually they're worse." 

He purses his lips and looks away, combing his hair down to cover the offending areas. Got him. Flopping onto the seat, he snatches up his pack of smokes and pulls one out. Something she noticed happens a lot. Perhaps it helps calm him down. The guy can barely sit still for more than a few minutes.

"Honestly, I'm glad we had detention together. I thought you were mad at me." Chrissy focuses on the fidgety hands in her lap. She was worried the teasing hit a nerve since he stopped talking.

"Mad?" Eddie whips his head back in surprise. "At you? Man, you are high." He snorts, making a strange face. "Where'd you get a crazy idea like that?"

"I don't know. It felt like we went back to being strangers again after hanging out. This probably sounds stupid but I thought you were giving me the stink eye in school. The same day you dropped me off. I wasn't sure how to take that. I mean, I could've imagined it—"

"No, that wasn't… It wasn't for you. 'Kay?" He slaps his lighter down on the table. "Hell, you'd really have to go above and beyond for me to get like that. Some asshole was just getting on my nerves."

'I wonder if that asshole's name is Jason?'

"Better them than me, I guess." She smiles and feels a huge sense of relief. Great. If it's Jason, then no big deal. Nothing's changed. Those two seem to prefer it that way.

"It wouldn't be you. Trust me."

'Radio Death? Already got that one. Salvaged Bones? Shit! Forgot Seventh Star came out last month.'

Eddie's eyes light up landing on the black and red case. Black Sabbath's latest album. The record has some controversy and isn't as heavy—according to an article in Heavy Metal—but there's still no passing up the chance to add it to his collection. The biggest struggle when going down the rows is deciding whether to get the cassette or LP. It depends on where he wants to jam to it. The van or his room? If it's that good, he'll eventually buy both.

After dropping Chrissy off, there was time to kill before going to Gareth's and then The Hideout. Same as every Tuesday. He needs to pick up the guys around seven-ish. It takes a bit to pack and load everything. If they're a bit late, no biggie. Donna doesn't really give a crap.

"The hell is this?" Noticing a neon green and yellow case, he looks at it curiously. This is new. Definitely wasn't here last time. It sticks out like a sore thumb. Carpathian Sanity. Not a band he's familiar with. They can't be local, either. He would've heard of them. Screw it. They could surprise him. Finding hidden gems is a fun part of doing this. 

'Reel it in.'

There's only so much he can get at one time. It all costs money. Something he doesn't have an abundance of. Getting a few albums every so often won't hurt… too much. Whatever. Today's going pretty well, so might as well treat himself. Making a decent sale earlier helped too. That gave him extra cash to work with.

Mindlessly wandering into the pop-rock section, Eddie glosses over the titles and designs. Letting out an overly exaggerated groan along the way. What a mess. He should kick his own ass. Then again, acting like a fool is apparently his specialty. A calling, even.

'Here it is.'

He stops in the middle of the row and narrows his eyes on the case. A black-and-white image of a man sitting on a stoop with yellow lettering. Billy Joel's 'An Innocent Man'. His most recent album, aside from a greatest hits collection that's more expensive. "Hmph." Grabbing the tape, he decides that'll be enough. Any more and it'll cut into his budget for other stuff like gas or new strings for his baby. They're starting to wear. Better to take care of it instead of waiting for one to break. With his luck, it'd be in the middle of a set.

"What's up?" The cashier is the epitome of stonerdom. Barely reacting when Eddie drops the tapes onto the counter and nods to him. Burnt the fuck out. But he's a chill dude that's been working here for years. One of the rare people who don't follow him around to make sure he's not stealing anything.

"Nothin' much. Slow day." Mark takes his sweet time ringing the items up, scrutinizing them from under his heavy lids. Yeah, it's very apparent he smoked recently. "Hey, get this. I heard Metallica's new album is coming out in like… I don't know. Two weeks or something? Saw it on TV, I think."

"C'mon, man. I'm the one who told you about that. It's the first week of March. Remember? You're supposed to put a copy on the side for me." He snaps his fingers to get the guy's full attention. This better not get screwed up. Record stores always get the good stuff in ahead of time before a release. Regardless if it's a day early, that album needs to be in his hands.

"Right. That's where I heard it."

The urge to rinse this guy down with a hose to sober him up is tempting.

'He better not forget after I did him that favor.'

"Really, Munson?" Mark arches a brow and laughs, holding up the Billy Joel tape. Hilarious. A metalhead picking up the Piano Man's album. Something mainstream and far removed from the usual choices. Call the damn press. It'll make headlines all over town.

"Zip it. I'm experimenting." He hands over the money and snatches the bag. It's not his taste in tunes but that reaction irks him. That attitude screams 'you're listening to this garbage?!'. Normally, no. Doesn't matter.

"Gotcha, my dude. Have fun with that."

"I will. Don't forget to put that aside for me. We had a deal." He turns and leaves, swinging the door open none too gently. Great. There's a fifty-fifty chance of Mark actually remembering to do it. The odds don't look good.

Eddie hops into the van and empties the bag beside him on the long bench seat to pick one for the ride. The rest can go into the glove compartment with the other tapes. It's a good time to find out if Carpathian Sanity has a banger in the mix. 

'Oh yeah.'

Reaching into the breast pocket of his denim vest, he pulls out a few pieces of folded paper. A grin tugs at his lips when unfurling them. Chrissy liked his drawing. She put a heart next to it. Cute. Her handwriting is really nice. Nothing like his chicken scratch.

A yellow slip falls out onto his lap.

"Heh. Bad girl." He shakes his head before tossing it into the glove box. Who would've thought Nocito finally had a use? It presented an opportunity he just couldn't resist. There didn't seem like many other options. If Lady Luck wants to keep throwing curve balls his way, he can at least try to hit them.

"You can stay with me." The note gets tucked back into his pocket for now. Going back to the tapes, he bites the side of his mouth while deciding which one gets the first honor. 

"No way! You're just going to make fun of me."

Saying that with such certainty… What gave her that impression? There's no point in asking only to shame her for an honest answer. She was nervous to tell him. It was written all over her face.

Eddie sighs, lazily picking up the tape. "Why the hell not?" The music a person likes can say a lot. What will this tell him about Chrissy? Possibly nothing yet she emphasized Billy Joel first and foremost. Glancing at the list on the back, he scans the titles for one that's familiar to start with. He lives in a trailer, not under a rock. Everyone is aware of the Piano Man and heard some of his songs in passing, whether they wanted to or not. 

This will do. It's really popular, especially with chicks. There's no way she doesn't know it. Pushing the tape in, he starts the van and lights up a cigarette before taking off. Next is Gareth's. They can hang out for a bit until it's time to shove off.

"Oh, oh, oh… Uptown girl. She's been living in her uptown world. I bet she's never had a backstreet guy…"

"Jesus Christ." A grimace forms from listening to the lyrics. He never paid them any mind before but holy crap. The window gets rolled down as he takes a long drag, blowing the smoke outside.

"...And when she wakes up and makes up her mind, she'll see I'm not so tough… Just because I'm in love with an uptown girl…"

"Shit!" Eddie slams on the brakes, leaving skid marks trailing behind the van. Stupid red light. That was a close one. He's partway over the line. Good enough. Screw getting another ticket. The damn cops like chilling in the parking lot nearby, waiting for some fool speeding down the busy street. He's been that fool a bunch of times. The Man can piss off. They're not getting any more of his money.

'Hmm?'

Feeling a familiar creeping sensation crawling up the back of his neck, he jerks his head to the side to look out the window. Two guys in a car in the next lane are staring at him. Not just staring. Gawking. The one on the passenger side is more obvious about it. They must be college shitheads. Sitting pretty in a BMW their parents bought them.

"You gotta problem, man?" Their reactions irritate him. What's with people today? Everyone's doing their best to get on his nerves. They don't respond and keep staring like he's some bizarre spectacle on the side of the road. Fine. If that's what they want, that's what they'll get.

Hands shoot up to make devil horns as he rolls his eyes back and wags his tongue, making a hissing noise. The guy closest to him recoils and quickly rolls the window up as if his life depended on it. Maybe the Satanist will sprout wings and rip him out of the car for a little snack. Or a sacrifice. Whatever paranoid bullshit people think these days.

The moment the light turns green, the BMW takes off like a bat out of hell. Eddie can't help laughing as he leans on his arm out the window to watch them go. Idiots. So easy to freak out.

"...You know I can't afford to buy her pearls but maybe someday when my ship comes in, she'll understand what kind of guy I've been. And then I'll win…"

"Tch. Shut the hell up, Billy Joel."

'I did it!'

Chrissy closes her bedroom door and lets out a deep breath. It's done. After spending way too much time on the letter, she finally finished it. Sneaking down the stairs to slip into his study was nerve-racking. She had to be as quiet as a mouse. Some of those darn floorboards creak under the slightest pressure. Thankfully, he's actually in his room tonight. How lucky. Getting caught and trying to explain herself to him would've been super awkward.

Still, it was a perilous journey. She felt like a cat burglar sneaking into a museum. Tiptoeing around and trying not to bump into anything that could sound the alarm. Instead of stealing priceless art, she was leaving a handful of pages neatly on a desk. The biggest issue was when she stubbed her toe on the way out. It took every ounce of self-control not to shout. That would've ruined everything.

Pacing back and forth across the room, it's hard to decide what to do now. Wondering how he'll react is stressful. Perhaps this will open a door for them to talk. Just be open and honest about what's going on. To an extent. There's no way she can mention that. The strange things going on. He'd be too afraid to send her to Pennhurst in case others found out. Unless he finds somewhere outside of town and makes up an excuse about where she went. 

'I need to get some sleep.'

There's no point in studying tonight. Her mind will be far off in the distance, thinking about everything else except the words on the pages. 

"No, no. That's a good dream. You should do it! Go on, bring dancing to this shitty little town. You can be a hot chick version of Ren from Footloose."

"God!" Chrissy drops onto the duvet and covers her face, rolling from side to side. Why did she have to open her big mouth and carry on like a dumdum? How embarrassing. His reaction only made it ten times worse. As if she could open a dance studio. That's ridiculous.

"And tell 'em to shove it. They're not the ones walking in your shoes. You don't want to wake up at fifty with a bunch of regrets just to make a few squares happy."

Hanging out with him is putting weird ideas in her head. Doesn't he understand they're not the same? Telling people to shove it is not something she'd do.

Breaking away from the plan sounds good in theory but realistically? How would that even work? What if she got disowned for going too far? Being all alone with no home, money, or help is a distressing thought. There's only so much friends can do before she becomes an inconvenience. Jason might wash his hands of her by that point.

Grabbing one of the many pillows from the top of the bed, Chrissy wraps her arms around it tightly. There's still time to decide. If things work out from the letter, maybe she can even have a sincere conversation with her dad about this. Tell him that IU isn't what she really wants. Would asking to push it back could be an option? Even a semester to bide some time to think about all this. Deadlines are coming up soon and a decision has to be made.

'I need a hug.'

If only she could embrace herself instead of this pillow. Or better yet, had someone else here to do it. She rolls over to bury her flushed face into the covers. That thought needs to go into the trash bin yet it's still a tantalizing idea. Her mind keeps racing, hopping from one thing to the next. Studying definitely would've been useless. Now it's slipping into the realm of fantasy. It must be from being lonely.

The only time she's ever slept in a bed with someone is during sleepovers with other girls. That's not the same. There's no cuddling involved. Just some kicking or accidentally rolling over each other. What she wants is different. Another person to curl up with and hold on to. Say everything's going to be alright. Make her feel comfortable and safe. Warm. Get them to run their fingers through her hair. Or vice versa. It all sounds good.

Would Jason do it? Climb the tree and sneak in here through the window this late at night? His parents are pretty lenient with him going out. He's 'responsible', so they don't worry too much. As long as she locks the bedroom door, it should be okay if they're quiet.

'Bad idea. Jason would get too handsy.'

He's been slowly pushing further and further. It's understandable. They've been dating for a while. That's only natural. Right now, Chrissy wants a little intimacy. To feel close to someone she has a genuine connection with. Not fool around or do things. If she asks him to go through all that trouble, who'd blame him for having those expectations?

"This is sad," the cheerleader whispers before flipping over to stare at the ceiling. It's not like she's technically alone. Far from it. Every day she's surrounded by people. Friends. Teammates. Boyfriend. Others. A sense of loneliness still permeates through her, no matter how many are around. It makes no sense. There's always an enormous distance between her and them, even if they're literally only inches away.

'I want to see Eddie again.'

A hand quickly clamps over her mouth. Something like that can't be allowed to escape. That would be terrible. Is it wrong to want a friend around though? That's normal, isn't it? If Eddie was here and not Jason in this imagined scenario, he'd make her feel better. There wouldn't be pressure to hand over more of herself than she's willing to give.

Can a guy and girl who are friends lay together without it becoming weird? They kind of did at the picnic table so that probably doesn't count. What about relaxing on a bed? Is that considered cheating? Is it wrong to even think about it?

'I'm a terrible girlfriend. Jason deserves better.'

"Forget it!" This is silly. She yanks a pillow under her head with every intention of going right to sleep. No more dwelling on this nonsense. Sighing, she closes her eyes and tries to let it all go. Enough is enough. There's school in the morning. So many other things to worry about, too. The team has practice tomorrow, then a pep rally on Thursday to focus on.

Chrissy's expression gradually relaxes. Sleep came faster than expected. After a few moments, her brow furrows. A small whimper slips out before a trickle of blood runs from her nose.

Eddie takes a big step and hops up on the bleachers. The students sitting nearby lean back on their seats, giving him more room than necessary to get by. These boneheads act like he's diseased or will mug them if he gets too close.

'Good. Get out of my way, suckers.'

Seeing some familiar faces one more row up, he wastes no time getting there and smirking at the uncomfortable reactions that meet him along the way. He knows. This isn't his thing. So why is he here frightening the children? The little underclassmen who hear all kinds of weird shit?

Classics like Hellfire performs satanic rituals on Fridays in the drama room. They kill small animals and use their blood to draw pentagrams before drinking the rest. Cut cats' heads off and put them on fence posts. Or better yet… His band spends the weekends lurking the dark roads outside of Hawkins in the van to pick up hitchhikers. Why? To sacrifice to the big guy downstairs to seal the deal and give them fame. Virgins are the most in demand. Can't forget about them.

And he, Eddie the freak, is the ringleader. The worst of the worst. Luring unsuspecting fledglings into his cult and getting them to wear homemade club shirts. The horror. How anyone can stomach his villainy is beyond him.

It's normally freshmen who fully buy into the really dumb stuff. Letting the older students scare them stupid. That usually gets old when they eventually start sniffing around for weed. So it's either vile satanic cult leader or weirdo drug dealer who plays a Satan-approved fantasy game. Both are okay with him.

"Eddie? What are you doing here?" Mike looks surprised to see him. Naturally. As previously stated, he knows. Not his thing. No one would expect him to roll into the gym and plop his ass on the bleachers. If his little sheep weren't here, he would've watched from the sidelines. Probably leaned up against a wall and stayed in the background. 

"What? Can't a guy show some school spirit? I love pep rallies. They're the bomb." Even he has a hard time saying that crap with a straight face.

"Bull! I call bull." Dustin folds his arms, looking up at him from beneath the brim of his hat. "We already had a couple since the year started and you're always a no-show. I doubt you suddenly had a change of heart."

"Oh, so you think you got me all figured out, huh?" The kid earned himself a noogie. He puts him in a headlock, grinding his knuckles against the 'thinking cap'. The Hellfire fresh meat sure are mouthy this year. He likes it. "Shut it, Henderson. I got my reasons."

"Can't you guys knock it off?" A girl sitting next to Mike snaps. Eddie cranes his neck back, looking at her curiously. That's Red. The chick who moved into the trailer across the way with her mom a bit ago. Since when was she friends with these two?

'Damn. She looks tired as hell. I could carry groceries with those bags. No wonder she's pissy.'

"Good morning, everyone." That voice. Higgins. The douchebag principal. On a mic, at that. One of the last things he wants to hear this early in the day. Flopping down onto the spot next to Henderson, he reluctantly turns his attention to the gym floor. "Please stand for the Pledge of Allegiance."

Eddie keeps his ass glued to the bleacher as everyone else gets to their feet. No dice. The most they're getting are his shoes propped up on the row in front of him. Hopefully they'll get their stupid pledge done quickly so the fun part comes sooner.

The band starts playing as the cheer team makes its way to the gym floor. Quickly getting into position to start their routine. They dive right into it with no trouble. Considering their crazy practice schedule, they could probably do it in their sleep.

Right in the center is the head cheerleader. Chrissy... In all her glory at the very heart of the performance. The focal point. Smiling brightly while swaying her hips and shaking those shiny pompoms. A group in the back creates a pyramid, with the dude cheerleaders making the base and flipping a blonde in the air. In front, a redhead does a cartwheel down the row.

'She looks happy.'

Maybe he should've come to more pep rallies. It's always been a sight to behold. They really put their all into it. Not that the shmucks in this school appreciate it. Leaning into his hand, he quietly watches their routine. A rare occasion in this building where he willingly chooses to behave. The team at least earned that much for all their hard work. Only them. The band and basketball team can suck it. Twice.

Now it makes more sense why she does this. From a club perspective, this is the closest thing they have to dance. Her passion for it is clear as day now that he has a few more pieces of the puzzle. He could see it on her face in the forest, and even now. If talking about it alone was enough to draw out a glow in Chrissy, actually doing it makes her radiant. The scene leaves him transfixed, unable to look away.

'...Lúthien.'

"Dumbass," He mutters to himself, pinching the side of his thigh for good measure. That damn thought. It keeps popping up since that time— 

Eddie jerks in his seat when the crowd starts clapping and cheering, barely realizing the routine's now finished. What a shame. The cheerleaders skip over to sit on the floor in front of the bleachers as the drums build up a fast rhythm. That can mean only one unfortunate thing.

"Let's hear it for the Tigers!"

The basketball team runs out from the back and right through a large banner. Bunch of hams. They line up to take center stage on the gym floor. After all, they're the 'real' stars of the show. Their captain walks with his head high and shoulders back, strutting over to the mic Higgins left behind.

"First, I want to thank each and every one of you for giving us your full support. Without you, the Tigers never would've made it this far. We wouldn't be on the road to regionals. Give yourselves a big hand!" Carver beams as the crowd erupts with applause, doing exactly as he wanted. "And of course, I have to give a huge shout-out to the greatest and most beautiful fans of all time. The Tigers cheer squad!"

What a joke. Eddie can't help scoffing. His eyes land on Lucas, standing beside the other basketball shitheads. The dark side sucked him in. Tempted him with lame promises of popularity in exchange for conformity. Now that's more like making a deal with the Devil.

"Chrissy." The entire gym goes quiet with a single word. They're eager to hear what this youth pastor-sounding son of a bitch has to say. He can feel his jaw tightening when Carver smiles, patting a hand against his chest. "Chrissy, I love you, babe."

The silence is broken with oohs and awws coming from every direction. They're eating it up. Loving the public display of affection. The self-indulgent bullshit served to them on a silver platter. Chrissy doesn't react at first. Just sits there and stares at him, no doubt realizing all eyes are on them. He put her on the spot in front of the whole school. She quickly blows him a kiss. That seems to satisfy the voyeurs.

This is part of the reason he never liked him. The guy's so full of himself that he either doesn't realize how he makes others feel or couldn't care less about it. After hanging out with Chrissy a couple of times, Eddie already knows this isn't something she'd want. How does a person who's been dating her not see that too? 

"What's wrong?" Dustin leans in and whispers. It's now that he realizes his leg is bouncing up a storm. And he couldn't say what kind of expression was on his face.

"Nothing." It comes out more gruff than intended. He tries to take it down a notch since Henderson has nothing to do with any of it. The kid's great. "Just forgot how boring this crap is."

"I know these last couple of years were hard. It's been difficult for us all. As a town, as a community… We've been tried and tested. Hawkins has shown its true mettle. Its tenacity and fortitude to keep going, no matter how dark it gets." Gripping the mic, he strides back and forth to make sure the entire gym gets a good look at him. It's part of the performance. Giving the flies the illusion they're included in whatever glorious endeavor the basketball team's working towards. They're all one big ol' happy family. Carver could have a future in politics. He slings enough shit and most are more than willing to bite. "We've lost so much. So many people. Students at this very school. Even our police chief. Did that stop us? NO! Nothing will!"

'Really, man?!'

"We'll keep going because that's what Hawkins is about. That's what the Tigers are about. The friends we lost along the way would want us to. They'd want us to carry their memory with us all the way to the Championships. So, let's show these other schools what we're made of! That Hawkins stops for nothing and we're coming for that trophy!" The crowd loses it at that. For once, he can't stand to be around so much racket. 

'Bunch of damn sheep.'

Long essays are the worst. English is not her favorite class for that reason. Nocito is relentless with these assignments. She always thought senior year would be a breeze, especially now since graduation isn't far away. Nope. The workload is the same and her grades are worse than ever before. 

'Mom would definitely kill me.'

The book she chose to do the essay on is 'The Seagull' by Anton Chekhov. A Russian play from the late nineteenth century. In order to 'expand their horizons'—as he put it—Nocito gave them a list of titles from non-American authors for them to pick from. Great. She loves reading. Just not when it's mandatory. It's basically a story about sad people who aren't happy with their lives and have a strong desire for something they never get. Plenty of unrequited love, too. Pretty tragic.  

Konstantin, a man who wants to become a famous playwright, falls in love with a beautiful girl named Nina. The problem is that she doesn't feel the same way. Nina eventually starts a relationship with the famous novelist, Trigorin, the boyfriend of Konstantin's actress mother. It's a real mess and all of it goes badly. No one gets a happy ending.

Still, Chrissy feels kind of sorry for the main character. To be infatuated with someone for so long... Spanning years, and it goes nowhere. Then Konstantin has to sit back and watch the woman he practically worships be with his enemy, the man he despises and is secretly envious of. That sounds so painful. She can't imagine how rough that must be. Nina's not at fault, though. A person can't control who they love.

'I don't like sad endings. Not reading this one again. 

Hearing a knock on the door, she looks up from the papers on her desk. It's pretty late. Her dad doesn't come up much anymore. Only once in a while to make sure she's there. Actually, he's been purposefully avoiding her since leaving that letter in the study.

"I'm awake."

The door creaks as it slowly opens. He quietly comes in and closes it, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. This is really unusual. So much so that it's making her apprehensive. A few moments go by in silence. That's not too bad. If she was in trouble, he would've immediately jumped into a tirade.

"I know—" It's not the annoyed, impatient tone she's become accustomed to. A little lower. Quieter. "I know this has been difficult. That I'm not the easiest to live with."

Chrissy grabs onto the top of her chair and squeezes it. Holy crap. He's actually admitting to something. Did he get taken over by a body snatcher? Are pigs flying? Did hell freeze over?

"Things haven't been great." He talks slowly, choosing each word carefully. This seems like a real struggle for him. His gaze stays trained on the rug as he continues, not sparing her a single glance. "That's on me. Not you. I… need a break."

'What?!'

Everything upstairs turns into a scrambled mess from hearing that. He needs a break? It has to be a body snatcher. Her dad would never utter the vile word 'break', let alone say he needs one. That's like, sacrilegious in this household.

"I'm going away for two weeks. I have some important things to take care of that can't wait."

"When?" she whispers, barely able to find her own voice. This is too absurd. He might as well have given her whiplash.

"I'm leaving in the morning. It's short notice but nothing was set in stone until a few days ago. There's plenty of money in the savings account. I'll leave the bank cards on the kitchen counter. Don't do anything you wouldn't do when I'm here. That means no parties or sneaking friends in, even Jason. Also, don't mention this to anyone. Only my colleagues at the firm know. If people find out and word gets around, someone could try to—"

She stares at him in stunned silence. Too much, too fast. Whatever he's saying now is going in one ear and out the other. It's like he's reading off a list of bullet points. This is a lot to take in. Leaving in the morning? For two weeks? That means he won't be here for her birthday. Does he realize it? Or is this so urgent that it can't wait even a few days?

'Is this my fault? Was writing that letter a mistake?'

"Chrissy," She sucks in a sharp breath noticing he's standing in front of her. The news caused her to zone out. Gazing up at him, he just seems so tired. Maybe he really does need this. "It'll be okay. You're a good kid. I'm proud of you." A hand pats the top of her head, ruffling her hair. With that, he turns around and leaves the same way he came in. Silently, without looking at her.

Chrissy stares at the door for a long time. Slowly, a small hand reaches up to fix the tousled strands of hair sticking out of place. Her bottom lip quivers and she sucks it in, hiding it.

"Afterward, the Treaty of Versailles was signed on June 28th, 1919. Exactly five years after the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand. Isn't that interesting? It ended on the same day it all started—"

Chrissy's eyelids are so heavy. They want to close for a few minutes. Just a couple… But it won't work out that way. She learned that last time in Nocito's class. Giving in for a second will wipe her out. Listening to Ms. O'Donnell carrying on about WWI is more of a chore than usual.

Why can't things go smoothly? There's always some kind of dilemma. Since Tuesday, she's having sleeping issues again. Not the same as before, though. Drifting off is the simple part now. Figures. After that is when the problems pop up. For the last three nights, all she's had are terrible nightmares. The worst. They never seem to end. Just an ongoing experience that leaves her completely drained by the time it finally ends.

When she gets up, there's a little blood on her face and pillow. Something is wrong. A sinus infection? Or her nose is dry from the weather. The icing on the layers of crap cake she received. Nightmares, bloody noses, and her dad left really early in the morning before she even got up. He could've at least said goodbye instead of leaving a note with a bunch of instructions and a bank card.

The house already felt too big and quiet before. Now it's a hundred times worse. It's unnerving and she has to live like this for the next two weeks, including for her birthday. Reminding her dad wasn't going to happen. He probably needed this. Getting in the way of that isn't right, not for a small thing like a birthday.

"Get started on this packet and make sure it's finished for tomorrow. All of this will be on the final. Keep your notes organized and hold onto the papers I gave you. Use them to study. Do that and it won't be difficult." Ms. O'Donnell stops at each row to hand a stack of packets to the first student, who takes one and passes it back. The rest of this period will be the class working on it quietly. That presents too many opportunities to nod off. The teacher goes back to her desk and sits down, leaving them to get started.

"Ow!" She feels a sharp sting against the back of her calf. What the hell?! Leaning over the side to check, there's a small red mark on her bare skin and a curled-up rubber band on the floor nearby.

Frowning, Chrissy eyes everyone around suspiciously. Most people are working on the packets, minding their own business. No snickers or side glances from anyone trying to hide their involvement. Until she lands on a figure in the back row.

As soon as their eyes meet, Eddie winces and shrugs, giving an apologetic look. She's going to smack him. Not really but imagining it makes her feel better at the moment. He mouths the words 'my bad' and any ideas of retribution go out the window from seeing his face. What was he trying to do? Arching a brow, she's confused when he motions towards the door with his head. 

'Does he mean…?'

Making sure no one's paying attention to them, Chrissy subtly moves her thumb back and forth, pointing to each of them. He nods and nudges towards the door again. Oh. Now she gets it.

'What the heck is he thinking?!'

Eddie wants them both to get out of class and do what, exactly? It's only second period. There's still a whole school day to get through. This isn't about smoking, right? He said it himself that she'd get caught immediately. Unless he wants to skip to go hang out somewhere. 

'Do it.'

She freezes as the thought barrels its way to the forefront of her mind. It's quiet yet insistent. A demanding whisper urging her to get up.

Is that a good idea? Getting a hall pass isn't an issue. The teachers trust her. What's there to lose? Three days passed since they last hung out. Those were rough. No one besides the people at the firm knows her dad's gone. After Jason or Charlotte drop her off, that's it. The rest of the evening is spent all alone until it's time to sleep and that is nothing but misery now, too.

'I can't tell them. They'll try to push me into using the house for a party or something else. No way.'

Chrissy knows she'll cave with enough pressure. It's better to not mention any of that and avoid the entire issue. There's no doubt it would lead to some uncomfortable situations. Telling Eddie might be okay though. 

"Ms. O'Donnell," Raising a hand, the decisions already made. She's going. No one's going to stop her. "I need to go to the bathroom." 

"Okay, come get a pass." The teacher pulls out a small pad and scribbles on it. Bingo. Her ticket to getting some relief.

Slipping out of the classroom and into the hall, she has no clue how he intends to leave. O'Donnell's less likely to do him any favors since he's always messing around. Perhaps he'll just get up and walk right out. There's no telling with that guy.

This is kind of exciting. It's hard to hold back a smile or the warmth surging through her. Eddie seems to bring that side out. The giddy girl who wants to hum a song and swing her arms around. Is this what people mean about being on cloud nine?

'Wait… Where am I going?'

Darn. She got ahead of herself. All he hinted at was them both leaving class. Not where or when. It might take a bit for him to get out, too. The girl's bathroom is nearby. Maybe she'll wait there for a few minutes, then head to the stairwell. That seems to be the safest bet for now. It's where she found him before.

Pulling open the bathroom door, she does a quick check to make sure no one's in there. Sometimes others hide out in here when skipping class. Nope. A small peek under the stalls and all is clear, thankfully.

"Yeesh." What a mess. Looking into the mirror was a mistake. There's a little puffiness beneath her eyes. Makeup can't fix that. She doesn't have any on hand either. A few products are in her bookbag but that's still in class. It would look too sketchy to bring it when she was only supposed to be gone for a few minutes.

A cough from the stall behind her causes Chrissy to jolt. It's muffled like someone's trying to suppress it. She was pretty sure the bathroom was empty. Unless they were standing on the toilet when she looked underneath.

It gets louder, turning into a full-on gag. Whoever it is sounds like they're having a tough time. And it's affecting her, too. Raising a hand, she gingerly grazes her neck, feeling the lump forming in it. Maybe it's better to leave before it gets to be too much.

"Are you okay?" She takes a deep breath, trying to ignore the pulsing in her throat. Despite the noises triggering something inside, there's a person behind that door who might need help, even if it's just to talk. Leaving without at least trying would bother her.

"No... I'm not." Her brows pinch together hearing the voice. That's strange. Taking a step closer, she leans back to see exactly which one the girl's in. Straight ahead, from the tiny glimpse of white sneakers from beneath the stall.

A retching sound fills the room. Gagging, gasping, crying. Splattering against water. She breaks out into a cold sweat as a familiar putrid smell hits her nose. Stomach acid. Vomit. Smacking a shaky hand over her mouth and nose, she shivers in place, fighting the urge to get sick. Her stomach is tightening up and throat's closing. The air is too dense. A headache's coming on.

"Come here… Please. "

The door swings open and crashes into another, leaving the stall wide open. A small teenage girl in a cheerleading outfit hangs over the side of the toilet, heaving and sobbing pathetically. All skin and bones with her strawberry blonde hair in a neat ponytail.

"Hah… Ahh…" Chrissy's eyes widen as she gasps for air, grabbing at her own neck. She takes a step back and runs right into the edge of the sink.

The girl turns away from the toilet, wiping her discolored lips with the sleeve of the white cheerleading jacket. A pained expression etched into her gaunt face while tears form in those grayish, sunken eyes from the harsh heaving. She whimpers, struggling to move from how emaciated her body is. It's wrong. All of it. Something's not right with her legs and elbows. They're messed up. Sticking out at the wrong angles. Disjointed. Poking against the pale, paper-thin skin covering them.

"You're making us fat again. Mom's going to be so… so angry." A sob echoes through the bathroom and her face drops into her bony hands. "What are we going to do? I'm scared." It turns into a wail from the panic as she claws at her hair.

The cheer captain's knees give out and she drops onto the tiled floor, too scared to move. She needs help. Someone. Anyone.

"E–E… Hel…" Chrissy tries to form words but it's a whispered, jumbled mess. No one's going to hear it.

"I need to lose weight. I have to get rid of something. She's going to find out… Take it away again." She grabs onto the side of the toilet for leverage. A wasted hand reaches up to her mouth, passing through those blueish lips with no intention of stopping. The fingers disappear, then the back of her hand and wrist.

The girl's hollow cheeks expand unnaturally until the corners of her mouth tear, blood gushing down onto the uniform and floor. The arm keeps going, passing through her throat and into the chest cavity. A loud snapping noise rings out. Her eyes roll back as she shakes, attempting to pull it back. A large lump shows itself beneath the front of the cheer jacket and slowly moves up, making her neck horrifically expand with the retreating hand.

"Gahh…" she chokes and convulses, drawing a blood-covered sleeve and forearm out. Her jaw cracks, shifting to make room for what's coming. Dislocating and separating to widen even more. The wrist and hand finally reappear, with something clenched tightly in its fist. A large hunk of meat. An organ. Gagging, she leans forward, sputtering droplets of blood everywhere. Gasping for air. Barely sparing it a glance, it gets thrown right into the toilet.

'What is… That's a…'

"Not enough. Not enough. That's only eight ounces… Half a pound." she cries again, wiping at the fluids covering her ruined mouth. "This is all your fault. I hate you so much!" The lights throughout the bathroom start flickering. "All of it. You're too greedy to give anything up! You pig!" Two bony hands slap against the tiles, using them to drag herself across the floor.

"Ahh!" Chrissy screams, seeing the creature crawling out of the stall. "Go away!" Tears run down her cheeks as she hyperventilates, frozen in fear. She wants to curl up into a ball beneath the counter and wait for someone to come help. It's not real. This is just a hallucination from not sleeping like the spiders and her mom's voice in the forest. Closing her eyes will make it disappear.

'Not real. Not real. Not real!'

A figment of her imagination from stressing over potentially relapsing. It can't do anything except look scary. That's what she tells herself. The worries of falling back into her eating disorder created this.

'Don't look. It's nothing. Someone will come in, eventually.'

When a cold, wet hand grips her ankle and squeezes down on it, the cheerleader lets out a terrified shriek. She feels it. Hallucinations shouldn't be able to physically touch someone, right? Without thinking, her leg pulls back and kicks at the hand, trying to get it to let go. Two of the thin fingers bend backward, snapping off and dropping onto the tiled floor.

She scrambles to get out of there as the girl snaps her jaw with a murderous look. The fear's making it so her body won't listen properly. There's no telling what'll happen if she does nothing. That thing already proved it can touch her.

Chrissy panics and uses her sneakers to kick off the floor, pushing herself closer to the exit. Quivering hands shove at the door until it gives way. She crawls out into the hallway and grabs onto the wall to get to her feet.

'I should be safe out here.'

Trying to catch her breath, she whips around to look down both ends of the hall. The lights are normal. No one's around. It's out in the open. Now, she needs to find someone.

"Chrissy."

Tears spring to her eyes hearing the unearthly voice. That doesn't belong to a human. Like her mother's from before, it's distant yet everywhere at the same time. The lights in the hallway flash, going berserk.

"Go away!" She screams, bolting towards a classroom. The door's locked and looking through the window, it's empty as well. One after the other, she runs down the row and tries her luck. Each one is the same. Locked, dark, and completely deserted.

"Oh my god!" Kicking a door out of frustration, it doesn't even budge. But she can feel the pain. This is real. Where did everyone go? The entire school can't be gone. Sweat runs down her temple as she looks around wildly, praying to see another soul.

"Is anyone here?! Someone?! Please! Eddie?! Anyone!" She tries to calm her breathing to listen closely. Just in case there's a response, even from a distance. Nothing. Realization hits as she keeps checking more doors. This is it. She's completely alone. There is no one else. A shaky hand presses against her chest, feeling the pounding right beneath the surface.

"Oh no." Her teeth chatter as she cries, crouching down towards the floor. "No, no, no, no!"

"Chrissy… It's time..."

Chrissy sobs and wraps her arms around herself. Why is this happening? She's scared. It's time for what? It wants to kill her. She can feel it. Why? What did she do wrong?

'I don't want to die! I'm not ready yet!'

At the end of the hall, the door to the girl's bathroom slams open. Her eyes widen seeing the sickly arms slide out from behind it, clinging onto the smooth surface of the floor. A broken body inches out, jerkily dragging itself forward. Its head swivels to the side until its gaze lands on her.

"S–Shit!" Getting to her feet, she watches the creature with trepidation. That thing vaguely resembles her but it ends there. One disgusting monster from another. It screeches and crawls across the hallway, startling the hell out of her by how fast it's now moving.

Chrissy takes a step back before turning around and booking it. If these things are hellbent on killing her, she can at least make it a pain in the ass for them to get the job done.

'Somebody, please help me!'

Chapter Text

Eddie taps his shoe against the step. Where did she go? Only a few minutes passed between them leaving O'Donnell's. He assumed she'd wander to this spot.

"Okay." It's been long enough. Maybe she went to the wrong place. Hopping to his feet, he'll just have to find Chrissy and drag her little behind over here.

'Unless she changed her mind? Or ran into fuckface.'

That's a bummer. A real buzzkill. If that's the case, what's there to do about it? Nothing. He can hold his hand out all he wants. Doesn't mean she'll take it and that's always been a possibility he needed to accept, even if it sucks total ass. It's better to go into situations without expecting anything. Hope for the best, anticipate the worst. That's what Wayne taught him. 

He pushes open the door to the stairwell and looks around before stepping out into the hall. Wouldn't that be his luck for her to show up right afterward, only to think this is the wrong place since he's not here?

"I need a smoke." A little something to take the edge off. It'll have to wait. Searching the castle for the princess comes first. There's no telling where the hell she is. This could be a wild goose chase.

Checking his watch without stopping causes him to sigh for the dozenth time. Class doesn't have long left, then it's off to third period. The chances of them hanging out decrease with each passing minute. There wasn't really a plan. It was a spur of the moment thing. A sudden urge that needed to be satisfied.

'Not here, either.

Disappointment fills him when he pokes his head around the next corner and sees no one in the vicinity. Nobody that matters, anyway. He slinks by a few classrooms and does a quick peek to cross them off. A few eyes peer up at him curiously but they're quickly dismissed. None of them are the ones he's looking for.

"Screw it." Eddie decides to go back to the stairwell after perusing most of the second floor. Even O'Donnells in case she went back. Chrissy could've gone to the spot after he left and is waiting there for him. If not, he'll have to suck it the hell up like a big boy.

He turns down another desolate hall and drags his feet, pouting. Just a little. It's not a big deal. He'll survive. Having a smoke and taking a nap on the stairs will help him relax. Besides, it's Friday. Hellfire meeting later today. The next grand chapter of his Cult of Vecna campaign. His lips twist into a smirk from thinking about it. Henderson's going to love what he has in store for them. Grant, Wheeler, and Sinclair? Not so much. Their characters barely survived the last session.

The light above him flickers. Eddie's brow furrows as he slows to a stop. One after the other, they follow suit until the entire row of lights down the hall are flashing erratically. What the hell is this? It's like that night at his trailer when every bulb in the place was on the fritz. He's dealt with power surges, faulty wiring, and all kinds of bullshit that comes with living in the park. Shocked and burned himself trying to fix things more times than he can count. This is different. Not normal.

A chill runs along his spine. One strong enough to make his skin prickle with goosebumps. He swallows hard and turns around, glancing back and forth. This feels really off. Giving him some weird vibes… Like he needs to get the hell out of dodge. His gut's never failed him before so why doubt it now?

'Fuck this.'

Spinning on his heel, he walks at a brisk pace with every intention of leaving and not looking back. Something freaky's going on and he's not willing to hang around to find out what it is. Nope. Not today. Not any day. Getting bitched at by O'Donnell is a way better option.

Eddie freezes when he hears a strange noise. A distorted sound in the distance. Is that coming from the other end of the hall? This isn't too far from the stairwell so unless someone is goofing off like him, it should be empty. Working his jaw, he debates checking it out. Part of him is a little curious. The much heftier side is yelling not to be a dumbass and just leave. 

"Christ!" He jumps when a person comes from behind the corner. They crash right into the wall, their back slamming up against it. His eyes fly open seeing the cheerleading outfit and familiar ponytail. "Chrissy?" Not missing a beat, he hauls ass down the hallway to get to her. "Chrissy?!" She slips down the wall and falls to her knees, staring straight ahead.

"Hey? Hey! Are you okay? What's going on?" Eddie slides across the floor, dropping onto his own knees beside the cheerleader. When his hand touches her shoulder, the lights stop flickering. He spares them a quick glance before turning his full attention to her.

"Chrissy?" She's as pale as death. Like someone drained all the blood from her and left nothing behind. The trembling is so bad it's making her teeth rattle. "What happened? Did you get hurt?" Tilting his head to the side, worry washes over him from being unable to get a response.

"Hey!" He claps loudly and snaps his fingers, hoping it'll do something. Nothing. Those wide blue eyes keep staring straight ahead, unfocused and blind to him. Waving a hand inches away from them has the same result. She can't see him. "Chrissy?!" Tapping her cheek is no different.

This is starting to genuinely scare him. When she got spooked at his place, it lasted only a few moments. He was able to break her out of it, and they moved on with the rest of the night. Whatever's going on now, Chrissy's far away. Out of his reach. Stuck in a petrified state where she's a shivering mess that can't react to anything around her.

'Is she in shock?'

"Hey! Can you hear me? I don't like this!" Eddie doesn't know what to do. Running out of ideas and panicking, he grabs the captain's shoulders and shakes her. Yelling, almost pleading with her to snap out of it.

A gasp leaves her lips, and Chrissy looks at him wildly while backing away. Still terrified. As if she doesn't recognize who he is yet. 

"E–Eddie?" She blinks, breathing hard and staring at him in disbelief. "Is it really you?" Her bottom lip quivers as she tears up.

'Oh, crap.'

"...Yeah, it's me." It comes out awkwardly. Probably sounds dumb. Whatever. He's just never seen someone so relieved to see him before. This is confusing and weird as hell but if the circumstances were different, his heart might burst. Actually, it still might.

"I'm so glad! I thought—" Chrissy wipes away the tears with a sleeve when something wet trickles from her nose. His face scrunches up. Dark red. Blood. A drop of it trailing down over her lips. She winces and holds her head, only for it to get heavier.

"Shit." Grabbing the bandana from his back pocket, he crouches down to press it against her nose. What the fuck is going on?! He can't make heads or tails out of this. Completely lost in the sauce.

'Gotta get the nurse.'

"Here, hold this. Keep it tight and don't take it off." A medical condition is the only logical thing that comes to mind. There's no other explanation. Do flashing lights cause it? Both times she wigged out, it was right after the lights went nuts. Unless that's just a bizarre coincidence. "I'll be right back."

When he turns to leave, a hand grabs onto the bottom of his denim vest, yanking on it. Trying to pull him back. He stops and arches a brow, puzzled. She's clinging to it like her life depends on it. Eyes huge and full of desperation, silently begging him not to go. Another tug is all it takes to scrap that plan.

"Okay, okay..." Eddie says softly, kneeling down in front of her. The last thing he wants to do is make her more upset than she already is. Chrissy knows what she needs better than he does. Maybe this has happened before.

The bell rings and he curses, looking down at his watch. Not good. This place is going to be swarming with flies in the next few minutes. The sheep will be running all around the pasture.

'I doubt she wants anyone seeing her like this.'

Word would get around fast. Who knows what kind of crazy shit they'd say? The Queen of Hawkins High is on the ground with a bloody nose and Eddie 'the freak' is at the scene. Yeah, that'll go real swell. These idiots will claim he attacked her or something wild, even if she backs him up. He knows how they are. They'll say Chrissy's too kind-hearted to throw his ass under the bus.

"We need to go. Like, right now." It seems she's on the same page. They both know it'll cause unnecessary crap. He holds out a hand to help her up. The stairwell is pretty close and no one really goes around there. Well, not anymore thanks to him.

'Holy shit.'

When she takes his hand, it startles him just how cold it is. There's no time to worry about that now. Pulling the cheerleader up, her shaking legs give out and she drops right back down. A small whimper slips out from behind the bandana and she looks at him apologetically, tearing up again.

"It's okay. Don't cry." What now? He can already hear voices, doors opening, and lockers slamming. Great. They have maybe two minutes at best until some jerk comes around the corner. 

"Sorry." Pursing his lips, Eddie wraps his arm under Chrissy's knees and around her waist, picking her up off the floor. He takes off down the hall, heading towards the stairwell before anyone catches them.

Not knowing what to do isn't new to him. It happens. Maybe more often than anyone would like to admit. Normally, he goes with the flow and hopes for the best. When that doesn't work, pulling something out of his ass usually does the trick. Right now, looking at the girl sniffling next to him, he's truly at a loss.

A grin or acting goofy won't fix this. It might make it worse. There's a time and place for everything. It's so frustrating. He's completely useless at the moment. No clue what happened, why, how, or if anyone else is involved. That makes coming up with a plan much harder. Chrissy won't say a word. Nothing. Not even to little questions like if she's okay. The answer is obvious but he's still trying without being too pushy.

"Let me see." Eddie moves closer on the step and holds out his hands. Her tired, puffy eyes regard him for a moment before relenting, letting him pull the balled-up bandana away. He checks carefully, tilting her chin up to get a better look. Good. At least the bleeding stopped.

'I don't like any of this.'

There's dried blood on her upper lip. He uses the scrap of fabric to wipe it away before tossing it on the step. It'll get washed later. Who cares? What's bothering him is how cold she still is. That's not normal. None of this is.

"Here." Shrugging off his vest and jacket together, he awkwardly drapes them over her shoulders. That should warm her up. If this wasn't such a shitty situation, it would be really amusing. Might've sent him reeling. Time and place though. She looks curiously from him to the clothing and back. At least that's something. "You feel cold. Figured that might help."

Chrissy pulls the sides in closer, wrapping it around herself tightly. The trembling slows down a bit. Maybe some of his warmth from wearing the jacket transferred over. She curls inward into a little ball, hugging her knees and hiding away.

"Are you… What happened?" Eddie gives it another try. It's been a bit since the last attempt. They've been sitting in silence for a while. Aside from crying, the only noises in the stairwell these past thirty minutes were the buzzing from the light above. She still says nothing and leans up against the wall.

'Hmm?'

His eyes narrow on something he didn't catch before. Strange marks right above her ankle. They're pink and blotchy, and noticeable against her skin. Those are from a person's hand. He can make out the impression their fingers left behind. That throws all the theories he's worked on into disarray.

"Did someone hurt you?" The thought makes his stomach tighten uncomfortably. Who would want to hurt someone like Chrissy? She never has beef with anyone at school. Going after a person like that is wrong. Plain and simple. Unless she grabbed her own ankle hard enough to leave a mark, then that's the only conclusion that makes sense. 

Looking back at him, those blue eyes flash for a moment before profusely shaking her head. She seems to notice what he's looking at and subtly tries pulling the sock up to cover the evidence. It's too late. He already saw it.

"You know, you can talk to me if you want." That's probably not going to happen. A small nod is the only response he gets. She's closing him out. It doesn't feel great but it is what it is. He's not owed an answer. Maybe some other time—if she wants to—they can talk about it.

Letting out a long sigh, he slaps his hands down on his knees and hops up. This really sucks. If only he didn't ask her to leave class… None of this would've happened. Nope. He just had to be a greedy asshole. Any other day, she'd be waiting for third period to end, bored as hell. That's a million times better than this.

"Please don't leave," Chrissy says, grabbing onto the bottom of his club shirt. Just like in the hall. The panic in her voice stops him in his tracks. "I'm afraid of being alone right now."

"I'm not. Don't worry." He was only going to peek out the window to make sure no one was around. His legs are restless and it's been a while since he had a smoke. That usually smooths out the sharp edges. This has his nerves going wild. That'll have to wait until later.

'If sitting here helps, I'll do it.'

"I think… I think I'm really losing my mind." She breaks out into a sob, covering her face with the sleeves of his jacket. "I don't know what's happening to me."

"I don't think so. I mean, I don't have a clue what's going on but I doubt it." The crying dies down at that and she gazes up at him. This is hard. If she doesn't even get what's going on, there's no way he could. That only complicates matters. Guess this isn't as straightforward as one of the preps being a douchebag. "Some things don't always have an explanation. Not right away. We can try to figure it out, yeah? Then kick the shit out of it."

That finally gets a positive reaction. Chrissy chuckles, wiping away the stray tears from her cheeks. Great. Something finally worked. Seeing her so upset and scared bothers the hell out of him.

"It's gonna be okay, Chrissy." Maybe a grin and acting a little goofy can be useful, after all. She stares at him for a few moments until her bottom lip quivers again. Instead of a fresh round of tears, the cheerleader buries her face into his chest. He forgets how to breathe. It used to be so easy. Second nature really. And when her arms wrap around his waist tightly, everything becomes a jumbled mess.

"Thank you. I don't know what I would've done if you weren't there." His dark, wide eyes try to look at everything except the woman clinging to him. They're spinning, making the stairwell a whirlwind of gray and off-white. He sucks in his lips and keeps his arms raised, too frazzled to put them down.

"Yep. No problemo." He squeezes out, hoping she can't hear his heartbeat. This might put him into cardiac arrest.

Eddie lets out a deep breath, trying to find his center. No biggie. He's cool. It's whatever. If this does it for her then who the hell is he to deny that?

'She smells nice.'

A sweet scent. Something right on the tip of his tongue. It's soothing. He picked up hints of it before but being this close is different. Forcing himself to loosen up, he lowers his arms and leans back against the step.

What now? Biting the side of his mouth, he hesitantly reaches up to stroke the top of her head. That's comforting, right? His brain is too out of whack to think straight. She sighs and rubs her face against his Hellfire shirt, relaxing into him further. That's a good sign. He starts to touch her ponytail, running his fingers through it.

"Mmm… That feels good." Chrissy lets out a little groan. Her muffled voice sounds tired, yet pleased. Without moving away from his chest, her hand comes up to grab onto the green scrunchie, pulling it out. He doesn't need to be told what that means.

It's longer than before. She rarely wears it down anymore. All he has to do is make sure it doesn't get caught in his rings and all will be good in the world. The strawberry blonde strands feel soft between his fingers. He's careful, trying not to mess it up or do anything that'll get her to rescind the invitation.

'I'm so fucked.'

When Eddie peeks through the doorway, O'Donnell is busy going through papers in her filing cabinet. Perfect. Quietly, he slips into the classroom and hopes she doesn't notice him. Getting bitched at isn't on the to-do list anymore. 

There it is. That pink bookbag. Sitting all nice and neat on a table along the side, just asking to be snatched up. Someone probably put it there after Chrissy didn't come back to class. He grabs it and slithers back the way he came, trying not to make a sound. After all, she's not the only one who didn't return.

"Eddie!" the older woman shouts before he reaches the door. Well, shit. She puts her hands on her hips with a crabby look. The one that tends to be reserved for him. Nope. Not dealing with this today. He tightens his grip on the strap and takes off into the hall.

'Too bad, O. Better luck next time.'

Ignoring his name being yelled, he swerves through the throng of kids until getting around the corner. Things to do, people to see. Nothing personal. He swings the bookbag over his shoulder and keeps going, paying no mind to the looks people are giving him. It's none of their business. He's only helping out a friend. 

'A friend that's got me wrapped around her little finger.'

Eddie tsks and goes down the next hall, heading to the nurse's office. Chrissy didn't want to go back to class or be sent home for some reason. Maybe her dad would get pissed? The nurse is the next best option. It's somewhere to lie down and not be alone.

"Hey! You!" A little redheaded cheerleader runs up from behind him and blocks the way. She looks super pissed like a firecracker about to shoot off sparks.

"Me?" Craning his neck back, he points a thumb at himself and glances around in confusion.

"Yeah, you. What do you think you're doing?! That's Chrissy's bookbag." The girl hisses, eyeing him up and down. It's off-putting. Is she sizing him up? 

'What the hell?'

"No, it's not. This is mine." 

"Liar! There are only five people in this school with pink bags. She's the only one with that specific shade. Trust me, I know."

People think he's the scary one? This cheerleader is way worse. Of course she would know. He's seen her orbiting Chrissy a bunch of times in their group. "Huh. I guess there's no point in hiding it then. Obviously, I'm stealing it. Might even stop at the pawn shop on the way home." Eddie can't help himself. They all think he's up to no good, anyway. 

"Are you—Whatever! Just hand it over." The girl leans forward with an outstretched hand, looking at him expectantly. And very impatiently.

"Yeah, uh… That's not gonna happen. Got strict orders from the captain." He's not sure what he's even saying. All that matters is getting this chick off his ass without being too 'mean and scary'. She's still one of her friends. Not to mention he's got something of a soft spot for cheerleaders.

"Who? Chrissy? Where is she? I didn't see her in Girard's."

"What do you mean? She's right there." Pointing behind her, she doesn't hesitate to spin around. Maybe this is a little mean.

"Where?" Eddie hauls ass in the opposite direction. Not answering her question or bothering to look back. "Asshole!" He snickers hearing the high-pitched voice from down the hall. That's one of the oldest tricks in the book. Have they never seen Saturday morning cartoons? Everyone here always falls for the simplest shit.

Slowing to a normal pace, he checks to make sure there are no red-haired chihuahuas on his heels. What a card. At least Chrissy has a bud willing to throw down when they think she's being done dirty. Still, that was weird. Most of the girls in school try to avoid him. Not get right up in his face. 

'These chicks are wild.'

The nurse's office is on the first floor. In a convenient location close to the gym. Makes sense. That's where most students get hurt. God forbid if the precious jocks don't get immediate attention when they mess each other up during practice. They're the school's pride and joy. Their meal ticket for more funding, trophies, and attention.

The nurse herself is something of a gorgon. Crazy hair, fierce beady eyes, and a frown that deepens the moment he strolls through the door for the second time today. He ignores her, walking straight to the sick bay. An area in the back of the room that's behind a curtain and has two small beds.

Chrissy is resting on the one closest to the wall. Hearing the curtain move, she rolls onto her side and smiles softly when he comes into view. He tries to not think about how his insides are turning into a pile of mush and sits down on the edge of the other bed.

"Thanks, Eddie. You didn't have to. I feel bad."

"Pshh. It's not a big deal." Yeah, right. As if there was another option. When she mentioned her bookbag still being in O's class, his mouth started moving. Offering up his services without a second thought. Not that thinking would've changed anything. "What's the plan?"

"Sweeney gave me some aspirin and said I can stay here for a bit." She yawns, stretching out her legs. He quickly tears his gaze away and pulls the bookbag off, setting it down beside him.

"Nice. You feelin' any better?" On the outside, there's an obvious improvement. Some color returned. She doesn't look like a ghost anymore and seems in better spirits, despite everything.

"Yeah, thanks to you." Warmth floods her cheeks as she looks at him appreciatively. Eddie thinks he might need to lie down. At least his ass is already on a bed.

"Heh. You flatter me. So, lunch is next period. Are you going?" The question makes Chrissy's expression change immediately. From a sense of calmness straight into discomfort. Is it because she's still not feeling good? Or doesn't want to be around everyone? 

"No. I, um... I'm not hungry." She quickly turns away. It's understandable not to have an appetite after whatever happened earlier but the guilty look on her face raises some red flags. 

"Gotcha." Eddie reaches down to mess with the chain hanging from his belt loop. He's not stupid. There's a possibility of being wrong. The signs are there. Despite what people might think, he's pretty observant. "By the way, you have some nutty friends."

Her eyebrows shoot up in alarm. "What do you mean?"

"The redhead." Grinning, he leans back on the bed and folds his arms. This should take her mind off that bullcrap. "She saw me with your bookbag and I thought she was gonna bite my head off. Ozzy-style. Or beat my ass like a drum in front of everyone."

That works. Chrissy giggles and covers her mouth, turning over on the frumpy pillow. "You're talking about Natalie. She's actually really sweet."

"Hmph. Maybe to you. Chick came at me like she was a momma bear and I was taking off with her cub. I could feel it in my gut. If I didn't run, I'd be in big trouble. All over a damn bookbag."

"I'm sorry!" The cheerleader's face turns pink as she laughs. "I didn't even think about any of that. Nat's just kind of protective."

'So cute.'

"You can say that again. Then times it by a hundred. You gotta real one there. I know I'd want her in my corner if shit hit the fan."

"Hey, you two. This isn't a hangout spot." The gorgon complains from her desk. Of course. Someone's got to ruin it. "Munson, unless something's wrong with you, get to your next class."

"Are you saying there isn't?" That'll be a first. Sweeney might be in the minority on that front. It's doubtful anyone else in this building would agree.

"Get going!"

He clicks his tongue in annoyance. Who cares about being late for lunch? It's not like all the food's going to disappear. They're probably getting on her nerves. She likes it nice and quiet in here. Grumbling, he looks at Chrissy and shrugs. "I guess I'll catch you later, then."

"Wait!" Eddie stops mid-step when she calls out to him. "I wanted to ask you something." Arching a brow, he turns back to her. What could she want to ask him? Either way, screw Sweeney. This is more important. Getting yelled at is nothing new. He'll take it.

Long fingers slide into the plastic bag lying on the table, grabbing a piece of pub mix. He mindlessly tosses it into his mouth while staring out into the distance. Dazed. Yep, that was a Worcestershire rye chip instead of a cheddar-flavored one. Similar texture but a very different taste.

"Eddie? Anyone home? Eddie?" A hand waves in his face and he jolts, sitting up in his seat.

"What, man?" Henderson's giving him a strange look. So are the others. What's the big deal? Can't a guy eat his pub mix without there being an issue? He snatches up another piece. This time, it's a pretzel.

"Oh, I don't know. We've been trying to talk about the meeting and you're too busy daydreaming." The freshman picks up a fry and dips it into a mountain of ketchup, taking a rough bite out of it. Being none-too-gentle with his teeth. "Looks like the tables have turned."

"Yeah, dude. What's up? Usually you're more revved up on Fridays." Now Gareth's going to join in too? Is it 'crawl up Eddie's ass' day? Except they're not exactly wrong. He gives them shit for the same thing.

"Nothing. Something has to be up 'cause I'm sitting here eating?"

"Nope. No. Forget it." Shaking his head, Henderson waves a hand, signaling they'll drop it. "Anyway, now that you're paying attention… We have a bit of a problem." There's some hesitation in his tone. And he keeps glancing at Wheeler.

"Wha-t?" He knows his voice sounds more aggravated than it should. They really haven't said anything yet. If the normally laid-back fresh meat are nervous, it means they're probably going to drop some news that'll tick him off. A few ideas come to mind.

Eddie leans back in the chair and crosses his arms. Great. His tongue prods a chunk of beer nut stuck between his teeth, trying to push it out while staring at them. Waiting for the two to spit it out already. It doesn't seem like his bandmates know what this is about. They look just as confused.

'There better not be a problem. Not tonight.'

Henderson clears his throat, shifting in his seat. "So, Lucas has a, ah… mandatory meeting after school. You know… The whole 'balls in laundry baskets' thing."

"Yeah, and?" Of course Sinclair does. The kid had to hop onto the basketball team to conform and not be a 'freak' like the rest of them. He gets it, even if it's lame as hell. Not everyone can handle that label. Some carry it with pride. Others crumble under the weight. Still, why is he supposed to care about a basketball meeting?

"And… We were thinking… Mike and I, I mean." He looks towards Wheeler again, and they both nod. "That maybe we could postpone the meeting tonight. We can't find a sub and Lucas says he has to go since there's some big thing coming up soon."

"Postpone Hellfire?! " They've got to be kidding. The thought alone is offensive. Blasphemous. But to actually ask? Fuck no. Especially tonight of all nights. Over his dead body.

"When hell freezes over."

"Not on your life."

Jeff and Grant aren't having it, and neither is he. It's not their fault the dark side seduced Sinclair. The kid shouldn't have joined two clubs if their schedules were gonna conflict with each other. D&D or basketball? That's a no-brainer.

"There's no way we can continue the campaign without him! Most of us almost died last week." Henderson laments, throwing him a side-eye. Yeah, he knows. It is his campaign, after all. No one said it was going to be easy. This is Advanced D&D. Not a game for greenhorns.

Pushing against the table, Eddie slides his chair back to get up. This is straight-up bullshit. He takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair. These kids are causing a twitch in his left eye. Nope. Got to calm down. No way are they canceling tonight. "You're just gonna have to find a sub. It's that simple. There's a good four hours until then. Plenty of time to herd in some sheep."

"Anyone we could've asked already said no." Wheeler chimes in. The club leader is two seconds away from flipping the damn table. "It's not like we want to postpone Hellfire. Everyone's busy doing other stuff."

'Or not interested, right?'

"We're having this meeting." He doesn't give a crap how they manage it as long as they do. No one postpones Hellfire. Unless the school is burning to the ground or death takes them all, there's no excuse for it. "Let me give it to you straight, boys." Leaning over the side of the table, he looks from the older members to the newer ones, trying to convey the seriousness of the situation. "Lúthien's heading to Angband, and the court will be present for it or so help me God, heads will roll instead of dice. Got it?"

They all stare at him in silence, some with their jaws slack as Eddie flops down in his seat. He said what he said. These punks heard him right. Getting annoyed with their prolonged reaction—or lack thereof—he grabs a cheddar chip and tosses it into Henderson's open mouth. That doesn't change his shocked expression but he chews it up anyway.

"What?!" Amber can barely contain her bewilderment. Awareness kicks in and she lowers her voice so the two other cheerleaders in the room can't hear. "You're kidding, right? Ms. Tina's still out too. I… I don't know about this. Why? What's going on?"

"Something came up I need to take care of." That's all she's going to say. A part of her feels bad about this. Their coach has been out after messing up her knee, so Chrissy's been running the show temporarily. One night won't kill the person meant to take her place. "This is good practice since you'll be captain soon. You know the routines like the back of your hand."

"Are you sure?" The junior says quietly, tilting her chin down. 

"Of course! I trust you. No one's better suited for the job. Listen, I know you can do it." There's a reason she picked this girl to replace her. Teams at Hawkins High all have their little traditions among themselves. With the cheerleaders, the next captain always gets nominated by the current one. The upcoming senior team usually agrees, and the coach doesn't care as long as the nominee fulfills their role. 

"Okay. I can do that. It's only for a day." Amber nods and straightens her posture, giving off more confidence than a few moments ago. Good. She's going to need it. Tonight is just a practice run. Next season is the real deal and people will be a lot less forgiving. "I got this."

"Thank you." Chrissy throws her a quick smile and turns to leave. She doesn't want to spend more time than necessary to take care of this. Cheer practice is now covered. Handing over the reins was easier than expected. It didn't hurt as much as she thought. Perhaps it's because her position seems so trivial at the moment. There are more important things to deal with.

A shiver runs through her body from thinking about it. Whatever 'that' was. A hallucination? Demon? She doesn't know and is too afraid to find out. There's no one to confide in about this without sounding completely bonkers. Who would believe any of it?

'Maybe I really am going crazy? That doesn't explain the mark. Something grabbed me but I can't prove it's from that thing that chased me.'

The last thing she remembers is running through the halls with that… creature, right on her heels. It wanted to kill. Bloodlust hung in the air, thick and overwhelming. That's the only word that comes to mind. Something she knows nothing of yet instinctively recognized even before the bathroom door swung open. Just like picking up on the malice in that strange disembodied voice.

When that monster finally cornered her, Chrissy was certain that was it. Some poor soul would find a mutilated corpse in the hall. It was the end of the line. Then someone started screaming her name. Everything changed in the blink of an eye and she found herself on the floor, being shaken by Eddie.

'He saved me.'

This is the third time. The forest, trailer, and during second period. He doesn't even realize it. She'd never been so happy to see anyone in her entire life, though it was followed by a splitting headache and bloody nose. And he tried to help with that too. 

All of this only confirms one thing—Eddie is a good person. Who else would do so much and ask for nothing in return? Even agreeing to her request. There's usually some kind of catch. So far... nothing. Not anything obvious, anyway.

Her nervousness and excitement spike as the drama room comes into view at the end of the hall. It's been a while since the last time she's gone in here. That was never during one of these meetings. He said 'okay' before the question finished leaving her mouth. After what happened, she wants to stay close to him for a bit longer. Just until it feels safe. 

"Here it is." Quietly opening the door, Chrissy hesitantly slips into the large room. This is it. Now her stomach is doing backflips. This place has changed a lot. It must've been rearranged at some point in the last year.

'Wow.'

Multicolored stage lights shine down from the ceiling. Lit candles and candelabras are set up all around the area, including a large decorative one lying on its side on a desk. It's still dim in here. That gives it an interesting vibe. In the center is a long table with a bunch of chairs. The surface is covered in books, folders, sheets of paper, pens, and cans of soda on each side. Lots of them.

A handful of people stand around chatting. They haven't realized someone snuck in here yet. As she silently gazes around, her eyes widen when they land on a certain figure. Eddie's sitting at the head of the table on what looks like an ornate throne with books propped up in front of him. The members of his band in their leather jackets flank their leader. His demeanor is different. More serious. Nothing like when they're alone together.

'Jeez. It's like he's the leader of a biker gang. They look rough.'

Chrissy's abdomen tightens as she swallows hard, trying not to feel intimidated. A strange sensation washes over her from looking at him. A single glance makes the guy appear totally off-putting. The long hair, chains, and leather don't help either. Various words pop up in her head. Deviant. Misfit. Troublemaker. Bad boy. She internally smacks herself. What the heck is wrong with her?

Too odd. Slowly exhaling, she grips the bottom of her sleeve before finally walking out into the open. There's no doubt about it. This is a big fish out of water moment. When the largest guy in the room finally notices her, he does a double take and his jaw drops. Everyone stops what they are doing to look at the intruder.

"Hi." Her bookbag gets lowered onto an empty desk. This is already so awkward. All their faces scream 'why the hell are you here?!' and it's completely understandable. The cheer team would react the same way to them, except be a lot more vocal about it.

"Chrissy!" Eddie smiles wide, slapping his hands down against the arms of the throne. That response alone is enough to warm her up. Standing up, he rolls his shoulders back and puffs his chest out a bit.

"What's going on?" A kid with curly hair and a cap speaks up, glancing back and forth in confusion. She's pretty sure he's a freshman but doesn't know his name.

Strolling over to the nervous cheerleader, he places a hand on her shoulder blade. Some of the tension melts away with a simple touch. Having him standing close by makes this easier. The other one stretches out in front like he's presenting her to an audience. "Chrissy here is going to be our special co-DM tonight."

'Co-DM? What is he talking about?'

"What?!" A chorus of confusion fills the room. With plenty of mouths hanging and wide eyes, too. They're not the only ones puzzled. 

"That's not a thing! How would that even work?" The band member with short, wavy brown hair asks. Without knowing who's who, the best she can do at the moment is separate the Corroded Coffin guys from the others. There are four of them—including their ringleader—and two kids that must be freshmen. Plus an older person she's never seen before. He's definitely not a high schooler. A college student?

"Yeah, it is. Maybe not the norm but it's been done." Eddie looks at him pointedly. "And don't worry about it. That's the DM's problem."

"Hold on! Hold on! We need a team meeting." The big guy puts his hands together in a time-out signal.

'This might've been a bad idea. I don't think they want me here.'

The man beside her sighs and looks down at the captain apologetically. "Just, uh… give me a minute. Okay?" He holds up a finger and presses his lips into a firm line, apparently not happy with how this is going.

Chrissy nods, watching as he marches over to the little huddle the club is forming. What else can she do? When their 'meeting' starts, every word carries over. They didn't move that far away.

"The hell, man?"

"What's the problem? She wants to sit in on the session tonight."

"No, not that. It's about earlier. How dare you call her Lúthien. She doesn't even have dark hair!"

'Lúthien? What's that?'

This doesn't feel good. Are they making fun of her? There's no telling either way without understanding what they're saying. Despite their hushed tones, the group's close enough that a paper ball could easily reach them. Maybe she should give them some privacy. For their sake and her's.

"That's what you're hung up on? Who gives a crap? She is to me and that's all that matters."

"Uh, is no one going to ask the real obvious question? Like, why does the head cheerleader want to sit in on our meeting?" This one is different. She could tell from listening it was the big guy bickering with Eddie. The suspicion in his voice stings.

"Maybe she's interested in D&D?" The freshman wearing the cap chimes in. He's more upbeat than the others. That's something she can appreciate.

"Or she's here to get dirt on the club to humiliate us in front of the entire school?"

"Don't say shit like that, Grant. It's not even funny!" That got under his skin. Eddie's mad. Perhaps even offended by the tone he's using. This isn't what was supposed to happen. The last thing she wanted was to cause an argument.

'I need to do something.'

Chrissy pushes aside the anxiety nipping at her nerves and moves toward the group. This is his club. Creating issues for him is a terrible way to repay the kindness he's shown her. If they don't want her here, then…

"I—" They pull apart as she steps closer, staring at her inquisitively. "I just wanted to see what you guys do since Eddie runs the club. That's all. Sorry if I caused any problems." Sticking out her bottom lip, she puts on a puppy-dog face and tilts a shoulder up while wringing her hands together. Boys often crumble in the presence of a sad girl. If this stops them from arguing and lets her stay with him, then so be it.

That has an immediate effect. The group's reactions range from visible discomfort to short-circuiting. Especially Eddie and Grant. They might be overheating. In a show, this would be the moment where steam shoots out of their ears. Time to go in for the kill now that she has their undivided attention. Turning around, she grabs her bookbag and swings it over her shoulder. "I'll get going. I don't want to be an issue."

"Wait!" Hearing the shouts from behind, Chrissy stops and wipes the smile off her face before turning back. She eyes the one who was squabbling the most over her presence. The guy worried this was a set-up to embarrass the club. No way. That never crossed her mind. They don't know each other but for his mind to go that route, he's probably had a rough time with people.

"It's… fine." He looks away, scratching his head. "There's no problem. Co-DM it is."

'Hehe! Score!'

The cheer captain bounces on her heels and claps excitedly. If she appears thrilled at the prospect of staying, maybe they'll warm up to her. Getting closer to Eddie means they will all see each other more. At the bare minimum, she wants them to like her. It'll make things a lot easier.

Eddie seems very pleased by the look on his face. He turns away and strides to the back of the room, disappearing behind a castle tower prop. A moment passes before that crazy hair comes into view with him dragging something across the floor. Another chair. One with a puffy cushion on it. A little smaller than his throne yet still fancy-looking.

He gives his chair the boot to make space for the new one so they can be next to each other. The rest of the guys amble to their own, sitting down or getting their sheets in order. At least they're letting her stay. She doesn't want to think about what might've happened if they didn't.

"Your seat, m'lady." Eddie puts his hands out toward the chair with a crooked grin. This is why she was so desperate to come, even if that meant skipping practice for the first time.

'I like being around him.'

"You go outside the tavern to follow the hooded figure. You're still a little drunk from the contest inside. The challenge now seems intentional as you head into the woods, staying a safe distance behind the mysterious person—"

Chrissy stares at the man next to her in awe. He's really in his element. Who would've known he had such a knack for storytelling? She's never seen a person get so into it, let alone an entire group become entirely immersed in it all. Now it makes sense. The dim lighting, candles, and setup add to the atmosphere they were trying to create. It works.

Slipping a hand into the bag on her lap, she pulls out another Dorito to munch on. Nacho cheese flavored. Eddie practically insisted she have some. Probably because he knows she didn't go to lunch. Eating only one isn't an option. Once it touched her tongue, the hunger kicked in.

'So good.'

Sitting in this flashy chair at the head of the table—next to him—while overlooking the scene playing out is a surreal experience. The Hellfire Club is nothing like the rumors claim. There aren't any rituals or sacrifices. Not in the literal sense, anyway. It's just a game. A game that's really hands-on with lots of numbers and dice. From what she understands, Eddie narrates while the member's characters follow along. The strange dice they roll around determine if they can do certain things or how much damage is doled out. 

'This isn't nearly as crazy as a satanic cult. People are so dramatic.' 

"Hold on, I need to consult my co-DM." Eddie leans to the side of the throne, motioning for her to come closer. It's pointless since he doesn't lower his voice anyway. "So, should the hooded figure attack and answer their questions if they survive?"

"C'mon! Why do you always gotta ask her at critical moments?" Grant complains, slapping a hand against the table next to his Mountain Dew can.

"I don't know. I think it makes it a little more exciting. Can't tell if she's trying to help out or off us." The freshman with the cap laughs while leaning far back in his chair. She learned his name is Dustin, though Eddie calls him Henderson. Same as with the other kid, Mike. They seem pretty nice. "You're just mad because you had a few bad rolls and now you're hanging on by a thread again. That's not Chrissy's fault."

"That's not it!" Another round of arguing breaks out again with the members jumping in. Bringing up rolls, numbers, bad choices, and pointing fingers. 'Gareth the Great' shouldn't have agreed to the drinking contest. Jeff was the one who talked them into going to the tavern in the first place.

"Shut up!" The entire room goes silent when Eddie shouts, waving a hand. That's actually kind of impressive. The group might bicker here and there but they all listen to him. It's not out of fear like she's seen with other clubs. There's a big difference. They respect him, even though everyone jokes around a lot. "So what'll it be?" He turns back to her and says in a more upbeat tone.

"Hmm?" She taps her chin while looking down at the set on the table. All the decisions so far were made on a whim since she doesn't understand the game yet. "Make them work for it."

He lets out a sharp exhale from his nose and tries not to smile. "Good choice, m'lady."

Grant groans, dropping back against his seat. "Awe! C'mon, Chrissy. Have some mercy!"

"That's for you robbing that peasant earlier. They don't have anything as it is and you still did it. It's called karma. What goes around, comes around." The cheerleader lifts her chin and sits up in the chair, crossing her arms. That's also for him saying something about her hair color. She's still not sure if they were insulting her. 

"What do you mean? I'm a chaotic neutral rogue. That's what I do!"

"Yeah? Well, if you don't start rolling better, you're not going to be doing much of anything." That seems to stun Grant and a few of the others. Perhaps they didn't expect her to say something like that. Eddie gets a kick out of it and smacks the arm of his throne.

'This is fun.'

"Keep that steady. Hold it a little higher. I want everyone to see it." Patrick and Andy glance at each other, then raise their arms so the banner is on full display. Perfect. Everything worked out just right. "Okay, let's go."

The basketball team leaves the gym and walks down the hall together like a procession. Benchwarmers in the back with balloons and seniors up at the front with the banner and signs. It's an important day. His hand tightens around the bouquet, unwilling to let a single one fall by the wayside. The ribbon tied around them dances along his fingers with each movement. A beautiful collection of red roses. They weren't cheap, that's for sure. Only the best for his girl.

'Cheer practice is almost over.'

Jason ended their own a little early to do this. Valentine's Day is only once a year. It's the perfect opportunity to show Chrissy and everyone around how much she means to him. When this is over, he'll take her home to get changed so they can go out to dinner somewhere nice. Her dad will agree, especially if he's the one asking.

"Get ready." Standing outside the door, he looks back at the team to make sure they're all in position. There's only one chance to get it right. It needs to be perfect. All eyes will be on them, so no one better mess this up for him.

"Let's do this." The team bursts in, holding up the signs and banner. A few startled screams ring throughout the room and someone falls onto the mats. Amber. One of the male cheerleaders wasn't paying attention thanks to the commotion.

"Chrissy, my love." Jason holds out his hand and the bouquet. There's no clapping. No squeals of excitement. No one rushing forward. His brows pinch together as he looks over the cheer team, not seeing that familiar shade of blonde hair.

'Where is she?'

"Jason!" Amber jumps to her feet off the mat, hastily brushing her uniform and hair. Running up to him, she leans forward and clasps her hands together. Maybe another time he'd appreciate it but he's a man on a mission right now.

"Where's Chrissy?" He says sharply, feeling jilted and annoyed. She's supposed to be here. Didn't he tell her to be prepared last week? That he had something special planned for them? Unless she also has something in store for him.

"I'm really sorry. I'll make it up to you."

"She said something came up and asked me to run practice tonight." The blonde's smile fades from seeing the change in his mood.

"What do you mean?" His jaw tightens. No way. Amber's full of crap. Chrissy wouldn't leave early or miss cheer practice. That's not like her at all. And she certainly wouldn't embarrass him like this in front of everyone. No, these girls are up to something. They don't know her the same way he does. She's always on top of everything and never slips up.

"Stop bullshitting me. Where is she?" It comes out low and angry to not draw even more attention as his eyes narrow on the junior. This isn't funny. After getting the basketball team to do all of this, it'd be humiliating to turn back empty-handed.

"I don't know! Really!"

'Dammit, Chrissy.'

Chapter Text

“So, what did you think?” Eddie turns down the music and throws her a quick look before turning back to the road.

“I had a good time.” Despite the mess that took up most of the day, it was a pretty good evening. More so than expected. “Probably not as thrilling as a satanic ritual but it kept me entertained.” 

“Sweet. Wasn’t sure if the meeting would bore you outta your mind or not. Color me surprised.” He says, sitting up in his seat. “Good thing Grant didn’t die. I wouldn’t have heard the end of it for weeks. He almost didn’t make it last session, either.” 

“That sucks. If you die, is that it? Do you have to sit out the rest of the game?”

“Not exactly. Someone can get mad and choose to quit—or try to—but there are options. They usually make a new character and I weave them back into the story. Now and then we can pull some bullshit out of our asses to resurrect one or fix ‘em up. Depends on the campaign.”

‘Sounds complicated.’

“I don't get how you guys can remember and keep track of all that.” From what she’s seen tonight, there are so many rules and details. Most people at school have no clue. The teachers would be so shocked to see how good Eddie is with stuff like that, especially since he’s considered a terrible student. 

“It’s not too bad after you get used to it. We have books to help. You saw them. The Player’s Handbook, Master’s Guide, Monster Manual. All the rules, stats, classes, blah, blah, blah. Everything you need to play. If you end up...” The sentence falters as he stares straight ahead. “I don’t know, a little more curious, I could make a baby side campaign outside of our meetings for you. To try it out. If you’re interested, I mean.” 

‘It's kind of cute when he’s being a big nerd.’

Chrissy pulls her knees up, letting her arms rest against them. He wants to create a small one for her to try? She can’t say no after the way he asked. “Sure, why not? It seems kind of fun.” His eyes fly open in surprise. “If it’s not a pain in the butt. I don’t want you going out of your way. And I'll have a hard time getting it at first. Just a forewarning.”

“Don’t worry. I think I’ll manage.” Eddie smiles widely at that. From the way his hands keep fidgeting on the steering wheel, she’d venture to guess he’s excited at the prospect. 

‘This is what he enjoys doing, huh? Playing guitar, drawing, and D&D.’ 

“Oh, and I have a question.” There was a lot tonight that she didn’t quite understand. This is all unfamiliar territory. It’s going to take time and some patience from both sides to get on the same page.

“Shoot.”

“What’s a DM?” That’s something she wanted to ask back at the meeting but was worried about getting laughed at by the others.  

“It’s a, uh…” Clearing his throat, he tilts his chin down. Did the question throw him off or is that supposed to be common knowledge? “DM stands for Dungeon Master. Basically, the person who organizes and runs the campaign. That’s my role.”

“Dungeon Master.” She repeats, liking the sound of it.

“What?” Eddie snorts and tries to tame the crooked grin forming. He eyes her from the side with interest, switching between that and watching the road. A hand drops from the steering wheel to grab the open Mountain Dew can nestled between his thighs to take a sip. 

“Nothing. Sounds kind of hot.” Chrissy giggles and grabs a loose lock of hair, twisting it around her finger. That really slipped out. It was supposed to be ‘cool’ or ‘neat’, not ‘hot’. 

That was a mistake.

The moment the last word left her lips, he chokes on his drink, causing the van to swerve a little too close to the curb. She scrambles over to smack his back before he finally hits the brakes. Stopping halfway over the line at the sign.

“Oh my god! Are you okay?!” That was not the reaction she was expecting. Killing him wasn’t part of the plan. This isn't going well at all. Any further to the right and they could’ve been in trouble. “I’m sorry. I d—”

A hand held up cuts the apology short. He uses the front of the club shirt to wipe his face and exhales deeply, attempting to regain his composure. “Nope. You said what you said. Can’t take it back.” 

'At least he seems okay now.'

“My bad. Didn’t mean to scare you.” Eddie sits up in the seat to dump the rest of the drink out the window. Not that there was much left, anyway. “Wasn’t expecting that.” He laughs awkwardly and starts driving again. 

“Me either, to be honest.”

A few minutes go by in silence. That was so embarrassing. She just had to open her big mouth. They only began hanging out recently. Making things weird was not her intention.

“I don’t think those words have ever been spoken in all of human history.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Chrissy Cunningham, you are Grade A freak material.” 

When they turn into her section, Chrissy’s stomach twists into knots. This is almost over. It’s a shame. She doesn’t want it to be. What’s going to happen when they go their separate ways? There’s no one home, either. She’ll be all alone, left to stew and think about things that terrify her. 

‘I don’t want him to go. Asking for more is too selfish. He’s already done more than enough.’

“You can drop me off at my house if you want instead of the corner.” Eddie raises a brow at that. Usually, he drops her off at the same spot on the corner of Douglas and Roseline. This will buy her a few extra minutes. “My dad's gone. He went on a trip and won’t be back for two weeks.” 

“Yeah? You’re not worried about the neighbors seeing little ol’ me pulling up?”

“They can shove it… or whatever you said before.” She ends shyly, sucking in her bottom lip when he grins approvingly. 

“Well, alright! Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about. Just tell me where I’m going.”

“537. It’s a white house with a driveway and garage on the side.” That’s not much help if a person is looking at the homes themselves. Times that by ten when it's dark. Thankfully, most have mailboxes along the street with large, bold numbers plastered on them. 

“They're all the same to me.”

Her place isn’t far. It comes up pretty quickly. When they pull into the driveway, she fiddles with the bottom of her skirt anxiously. 

"Christ." He leans forward to look out the front window after parking. Taking in the details of the large home. It makes her self-conscious when he says nothing else. 

“Thanks a lot for everything today. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.” 

Tearing his gaze from the house, he turns to her and presses his lips into a firm line. “Are you gonna be okay?” 

“I hope so,” she breathes out. It takes a second to realize her knees are bouncing. Sitting with him in the van is one thing. Here, it’s fine. Safe. Getting out and leaving? That’s different. There’s no telling one way or the other yet. By the time she figures it out, no one will be around.  

“Here.” Eddie opens the glove box and rummages through the stuff in there. “Nope, not that.” He grimaces, shoving it further back. The streetlights don't help much. All she's able to make out is a bunch of tapes. 

‘What’s he doing?’

Pulling out a scrap of wrinkled paper and pen missing its cap, a portion is torn off and pressed against the steering wheel. He jots something down while chewing on the side of his lip. “Our phone’s a hunk of junk but you should be able to get through. Call me if you need anything. You know, since you’re home alone and whatever.” 

“Okay, I will.” The paper gets folded up and slipped into the pocket of her jacket. That’s comforting. If worse comes to worst, there’s someone to call for help. Grabbing her bookbag off the floor, she scoots over to get out. 

“Wait! Hold on for a sec. Almost forgot—” Chrissy pauses, watching him reach over the back of the seat, feeling around. She’s not sure for what. There’s some music equipment and boxes on the floor that slide around when he takes turns too sharply. “This is for you.” 

A rolled-up shirt gets tossed onto her lap. Picking it up, she unravels it and her eyes light up at the design on the front. “For me?!"

“Uh, yeah. Had an extra one lying around so I figured you could have it. Since you were co-DM tonight and all.” He waves it off and away. “I guess that kinda makes you like, an honorary member.” 

She holds it up to the window to use the light from outside to get a better look. “These are a lot softer than I imagined. It's really cool.” 

“It’s nothing,” Eddie says nonchalantly, shrugging. His voice is missing some of the liveliness it usually carries. She tilts her head and studies him curiously but he keeps staring out the window. 

‘What’s wrong? Was he expecting a different reaction?’

Chrissy’s thrilled with the gift, regardless. Wearing it at school is a bad idea. It’ll be nice to have at home and for their baby campaign if they go through with it. “This will be so comfy to sleep in." 

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “...Great. Glad you like it.”

“I’ll see you later. Thanks for the ride.” Not wanting to annoy him, she grabs her things and hops out. His mood changed. It’s not clear why and she doesn’t want to make it worse. 

Walking to the front door, she stops to glance back. He’s watching now. Probably waiting for her to go inside like someone else she knows. That's the only thing the two have in common. She waves to confirm something and sighs in relief when it’s returned. 

‘Thank goodness.’

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie leans against the steering wheel, raking his fingers down his face. Why does he have to act like a complete moron? Drowning in Mountain Dew, almost driving off the side of the road, and clamming up at the end… If it was possible, he’d drag his own ass out of the van and beat the hell out of it. Maybe run himself over while he's at it. 

“This will be so comfy to sleep in.”

‘Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Shit. Chrissy’s gonna be the death of me.’

Her little behind already went inside and yet here he is, still parked in the driveway. Needing a few minutes to get it together. This is always the worst part of their interactions. The moment she’s gone, he reflects on all the dumb crap he said and did. 

‘Is she gonna be okay? No one’s even home.'

“Hey lover boy, are we going to sit here all night?” 

“F—Shit!” He clutches the front of his denim vest when a head with curly hair pops out from the back. That stupid cap and smug grin. “What the hell are you doing here, Henderson?!” No fucking way. Annoyance and a twinge of embarrassment wash over him at the realization that one of his little sheep watched him make a fool out of himself. This day just keeps getting better and better.

“Someone forgot they offered to take me home since my tire’s got a hole in it.” 

“Oh yeah.” Dammit. That’s right. He also said he’d fix it for him. Can’t let the kid's mode of transportation stay jacked up. “Then why are you hiding in the back?”

“I was going to pop out when you stopped but Chrissy hopped in and... It didn’t seem like such a great idea anymore.” Dustin grunts while crawling over the back of the bench seat and dropping into the spot that was previously occupied. Without hesitation, he reaches over to mess with the radio. Most would get their hand slapped for that. This one? He can get a pass.

“You’re cool with scaring me, huh?” Crossing his arms, Eddie eyes the freshman and frowns. Of course. Screw only him. 

“You bet. I’d feel bad doing that to her.” 

“As you should, punk.” He starts up the van and finally backs out of the driveway, giving that stupidly big house one last look-over. Can’t stay here all night. If something happens, at least Chrissy has his number now. 

‘If some shit goes down, she probably wouldn’t call me anyway. Another punk.’ 

“So, you and the head cheerleader?” There it is. It was only a matter of time before one of them plopped that question right onto his lap, especially after the session tonight. No one saying a word about it would’ve been nuttier. “Even spending Valentine’s Day together. I never would’ve seen that coming. Not in a million years.”

“C’mon, man.” The kid has to say it like that. He already knows. The Queen of Hawkins High and the town freak. Super fucking wild. Got it. “It’s not like that. We’re friends. That's all.” 

The Valentine’s Day thing isn’t a big deal. It’s doubtful Chrissy remembers or cares. Whatever happened must've shaken the thought right out of her. He’d be more concerned if it was a priority after all that.

Still, Eddie wasn’t going to say a damn thing about it. He could hear Carver and the basketball douches talking the last few days. It would’ve been simple to bring up what day it was in front of her. Just a teensy reminder. Like when she asked to come to the meeting and he agreed, knowing full well there were plans for the same time frame. That might've been a good distraction from the mess. She could try to focus on spending time with her boyfriend instead.

Nah. Fuck that. 

Does he feel bad for ruining another guy's plans for a big date night with his girlfriend? Hell no. He’d do it again, too. A thousand times over. Aside from them both being team captains and the kids of some uptight folks, those two make no sense. Maybe at first glance but for more than a few moments? Nope. Can’t build a house on a weak foundation. Once the storm hits, it’ll collapse. Right now... one-half doesn’t seem to notice it's raining. 

“Bullshit. You think I’m stupid? Me? And the whole ‘oh, we had an extra one lying around’ thing? Real smooth. You know, a little honesty goes a long way.”

“Okay, okay. Just drop it.” He doesn’t want to talk about this. It’s already got him feeling some type of way. 

“Sure thing, Dungeon Master.” Henderson's smile goes ear-to-ear as he rolls his tongue more than necessary. No way is he going to let this brat ruin that for him. 

“Keep it up. I’ll tie you to the bumper and drag your ass home.”

Chrissy tosses the uniform top onto the floor and stands in front of the long mirror, studying herself. Slowly, she strips the rest of her clothes off, leaving nothing behind. Bra and panties kicked off to the side. A rare event. They normally stay on so it’s not too overwhelming. It’s been almost two weeks since the last time she’s done this. A new record. 

Slim fingers poke and tug at different spots, checking if they match what's in the reflection. Something’s always been wrong with her eyes. That became apparent right before middle school. What she visualizes never lines up with the mirror and how other people see her.

A myriad of emotions rise to the surface as she stares at the girl a few feet away. Gross. Too skinny. Plain. Inadequate. Short. Not womanly enough. Boring. Why can’t she have a body like Charlotte or Amber? They’re beautiful and curvy. Looking at her own, she can’t help feeling disappointed. 

‘Captain of the cheerleading team? More like captain of the itty bitty titty committee.’ 

No. Thinking like that helps nothing. The more she gawks at herself and insults the reflection, the more likely a full-blown relapse will happen. It’s already starting. Skipping meals is how it begins, and it only escalates from there. If she doesn’t eat right, that’ll make her skinnier and less attractive. 

‘Attractive to who?’

The million-dollar question. All these years, she didn’t want to stop and question who this was really for. It was usually based on her mom’s ideal version of herself except that was never attainable to begin with. That’s an impossible standard no human can achieve. Who or what is she trying to become? 

No amount of weight change will ever satisfy her. The sad truth. Gazing at her figure, she realizes it couldn’t end there. It wasn’t going to. A voice always whispers that if she got rid of a few more pounds, everything would finally look right. Later, it was only if her hips were a smidge wider or breasts a cup bigger. There is no pleasing this monster lurking inside. It won’t stop until she’s dead and gone. 

‘I can’t be someone else.'

That's what it comes down to. It’s not that anything needs to be fixed. Spending so long being told every single thing is wrong turned her into a self-loathing shadow of a person. If she could stop being this disgustingly flawed girl, then happiness would find its way to her. What a joke. 

Images of that creature hanging over the toilet flood her mind. Is that what she’ll become if the monster has its way? Skin and bones with no life left in it? There has to be a reason for it. A warning? Or something trying to torment her. 

“Oh no… ” A lump forms in her throat and she crouches down on the carpet. It’s coming back. The terror and anguish of being hunted down like an animal by things far beyond her comprehension. This is exactly what she was afraid of happening when hopping out of the van. Being left alone in this house with nothing but her thoughts. 

Tears prick her eyes as the trembling starts all over again. This time, there’s no one here to say it’s going to be okay or make her feel safe. Spending time with Eddie, then the Hellfire Club, helped put that aside for a bit. It allowed her to focus on anything else except that. She relaxed and laughed for a while. Genuinely enjoyed their company, bickering and all. 

There’s no running away from this, huh?  

"Some things don't always have an explanation. Not right away. We can try to figure it out, yeah? Then kick the shit out of it."

She wanted to tell him so badly. Explain all the terrible stuff that's been happening lately. The headaches, loss of appetite and sleep, nightmares, hallucinations… If anyone might understand, it’s Eddie. Maybe they could figure this out together and find a solution but saying it aloud makes it too real. And what if he doesn’t? What if he thinks she’s a lunatic and backs off? Hasn’t she already put enough on him as it is? 

That’s not fair. The guy has his own issues to deal with. Jason should be the person she confides in and gets comfort from. Isn't that what a boyfriend is for?

‘I could never tell Jason any of this. I’m the worst. What am I doing? Get it together!’

She sniffles and wipes the tears away with the back of her hand, standing up. This is pitiful. Her weakness caused this. The hallucinations are all things that she’s terrified of. If she can conquer them, they can’t torment her anymore, right? The only option is to take one at a time and work on it. 

“You’re first.” Chrissy grabs the mirror and drags it across the carpet toward the closet. It can go in the back. Turned around so she won't see it behind the dresses and shoes. The vanity will work to make sure she looks presentable. It’s not tall enough to gaze at her entire figure for hours on end. 

“And you can stay in there, asshole!” Slamming the closet door, she quickly covers her mouth. That’s right. No one’s here. There won’t be any consequences for cursing loudly. She can do it to her heart’s content. Yell every obscenity at the top of her lungs and nothing will happen. 

‘That’s a bad habit to pick up. Eddie’s rubbing off on me in weird ways.’

Thinking about him has a calming effect. It’s easier to push away the scary images if she concentrates hard enough. How would he handle any of this? She wants to imagine he’d flip the creature off and give it a swift kick. Tell that creepy voice to screw itself. That helps it seem less frightening. 

She can do this. There’s no other choice. It’s that or completely fall apart. Shatter into a million pieces. If that means pretending nothing happened to get through it, then so be it. Whatever it takes. Throwing in the towel isn’t an option. 

Chrissy walks over to the bed, eyeing the shirt sitting on top of the duvet. The Hellfire Club shirt Eddie gave her… She slips it on and grabs a pair of shorts from a drawer. This will do. Next is snatching up a pillow and the covers before heading downstairs. The thought of sleeping in that bedroom right now creeps her out too much. It’s too darn quiet. That needs to change. She sets up a small area for herself on the couch in the den where there’s a TV. The noise is comforting. Makes it feel like the house has more life in it than it actually does. 

Lying across the cushions under the duvet, she grabs the clunky remote off the end table to turn on the TV. There’s just a bunch of infomercials or older movies when flipping through the channels. Nothing that grabs her interest. 

“Ah!” Chrissy’s eyes light up seeing some familiar faces. This is the show they watched at Eddie’s. Golden Girls. A grin spreads as she puts the remote down and settles in. Jackpot. Having this on will definitely brighten the mood.  

‘I wish I had the guts to ask him.’

She was so close to inviting Eddie to come in. Perhaps to spend the night if he stayed long enough. No. Asking a guy to do that when she has a boyfriend is wrong. That's crossing a line. 

Sighing, she tries to swallow down the small bit of fear left lingering behind and pay attention to the show. Her mind wanders elsewhere. To things like how soft the club shirt is. It smells like him, too. Hints of cigarette smoke and a warm, spicy scent. What is that from? Cologne? A musky, rich one that reminds her of a summer night.  

“Mmm…” Pulling her arms inside the shirt, Chrissy wraps them around herself and gets into a cozy position. This is better. Hopefully, she’ll be able to sleep in peace. 

“It’s gonna be okay, Chrissy.”

‘I hope so.’

“Have you lost your mind?!” the older woman shouts from the doorway. Yep. She’s livid. Chrissy’s really done it this time. “What are you thinking? I didn’t raise you like this. Where’s your father? I know he’ll want to have a talk with you as well.” 

“How should I know? No one tells me anything. He’s probably lounging at some resort. And I am losing my mind! That wouldn’t be surprising after living with the two of you.” Anyone would. Not that her mom cares. It doesn't matter as long as others don't find out. 

“You’re getting too mouthy for your own good.” So far, she hasn’t passed the threshold of the room. That made it easier to be a bit bold. Gutsier. Hearing that angry tone still shakes her resolve. “I'm warning you now. You will be sorry!"

“Hey,” A familiar voice startles Chrissy. Two hands come from behind and cover her eyes, blocking the view of her mom at the door. “It’s okay. Just take a deep breath and tell her to shove it.” 

“What?” Is he crazy? Someone like him could get away with that. Not her. 

“This is what I’m talking about! Stay away from that boy. I didn’t work so hard for you to throw it all away! That miscreant will take advantage of you and leave nothing but a mess behind for the rest of us to clean up. By then, no one will want you. Jason has a limit like everyone else.”

“Do you really want to listen to that bullshit? She’s only worried about herself. How it’ll look to others. I mean, what'll happen if people see the Cunningham’s precious daughter with a dirtbag like me? The world will end.” Eddie chuckles, keeping his hands in place. Shielding her from seeing the person she’s most afraid of. They’re warm except for the cool metal rings pressed against her skin. 

“Get away from that boy. Right. NOW!” 

“Shove it, Mom!” Chrissy winces, trying to snuff out the dread coiling in her stomach. She listens and waits to get screamed at. Nothing. The hands pull away. No one’s there. Her mom is gone. "It worked? That’s all it took?”

“Told you.” He moves from behind to flop down on the edge of the bed beside her. There’s that shit-eating grin again. And she likes it, even if he’s relishing being right. “Isn’t that much better?”

She tilts her chin down and smiles, feeling embarrassed. That was so simple. Why didn’t she do that earlier? It would’ve saved her so much trouble. The answer is obvious. He was here. Having support can make a huge difference. 

‘Stay with me.’

“I will.” His answer stuns her. Can he read minds? “You're an open book to me. I see everything.” 

Something inside agrees with that statement. At some point, she started to forget to slip the mask back on. It was that first time in the stairwell. That was pointless. He practically said as much in the hall while she was waiting for basketball practice to end.

“Sure you are, Cunningham.” 

Chrissy stares at him long and hard. Conflicted. Having to hide their friendship sucks. She doesn’t enjoy walking past him in the halls and pretending they're strangers. Always holding it in. They give each other a knowing look and keep going. Maybe a smirk but that’s usually on his end. 

People will talk. They'll say some nasty stuff. That would hurt yet she’d survive. There are a lot worse things than gossip or insults. It’s what could happen to Eddie that keeps her in check. Jason wouldn’t accept it. He’s usually good. Sometimes he's not. More so if the team eggs him on. Andy certainly brings out his uglier side. She doesn’t think they would hesitate to start trouble with the Hellfire guys. If any of them got hurt because of her… 

‘What should I do? Pushing him away is for the best. I don't want to. Why is this so hard?'

“Stop that.” Eddie bites out. “I like playing games but not that kind. Stop worrying over every little thing. I’m a big boy that knew what I was getting into from the get-go. You got some wires crossed. Between us, I’m not the one who needs someone to look after them.” 

Is it okay to be a little selfish? Chrissy isn't sure what she's expecting out of this. He’s been a great friend in the short time since they reconnected. Better than she could’ve possibly expected. 

“You still don’t get it, huh?” She freezes when his hand closes over hers on the duvet. Glancing down, the room seems stuffier than it was a moment ago. How different. His fingers are so much longer than her own. " Let me spell it out for you.”

Blue eyes widen when he leans in yet she can’t find the will to move. Does she want to? Her mind is all scrambled as he gets closer, leaving only a few inches left between them. Moving away from him is the right thing to do. Sliding her hand out from under his and taking off should be easy. That’s not what happens. A shiver runs through the cheerleader's body from the warm breath washing over her skin. Eddie’s too close now. She stays perfectly still and lets out a shaky sigh in anticipation. His lips gently brush against hers. More teasing. Trying to goad her into making the full leap for once.

“I knew it.” With a loud gasp, she quickly pulls away. Jason. Standing near the door and beyond furious. A hand’s held out with something in its grasp. Chrissy jolts, jumping back against the bed when she sees the handgun. “You cheating whore!” 

“No, I—”

“Don’t give me that crap, Chrissy. You’re caught red-handed. And with this freak? How could you?!" His lips pull back as he bares his teeth, clenching them tightly. " After all this time... You’re going to ruin everything for a mutt.” 

She’s scared. A hand encloses hers again. Jason hisses, raising the gun higher and pulling the hammer back. It makes a clicking sound as he aims at them, shaking yet full of resolve. 

 “W–Wait!”  

…..

“Ahh!” Chrissy’s face smacks against the carpet. Panting, her wide eyes stare at the thick fibers barely inches away. She’s covered in a cold sweat with her heart racing from an adrenaline rush and falling off the couch. 

‘What an awful dream!’

Thank goodness that’s all it was. A weird dream with a horrible ending. She groans and rolls over, pushing her arms through the sleeves of the club shirt. That sucked. Could’ve been worse, though. If the coffee table was in the same spot as before, her face would've bashed against that instead of the soft carpet. 

That was too much. Sitting up on the floor, she blinks a few times and rubs the sleep from her eyes. The TV’s still on with a commercial for dish pads playing. Bright light peeks through the curtains, signaling it is morning already. It wasn’t super late when coming in here last night. 

Glancing at the small decorative clock on the mantle stuns her. 9:08 AM. Did she really sleep that long? Without waking up once? How crazy. Nightmare aside, that’s the most rest she’s gotten since staying over at Eddie’s. 

“Wow.” Chrissy stretches out along the carpet while listening to the little cracks her joints make. It’s Saturday morning. Nothing to do and no obligations to fulfill. Today can be a self-care day. What's been happening recently made something painfully clear. She needs to start being a little kinder to herself. If this all stems from insecurities and fears, then that has to get fixed or nothing will change. 

If they persist after all that, then she’ll have no choice but to get help. 

‘I’ll make breakfast, go on a jog, and take a shower.’

It’s a good first step in the right direction. Perhaps, somehow, some way… Chrissy can learn to like herself. Or at least be content with who she is. Other people seem to enjoy being around her. There must be something they’re seeing that she’s missing out on. 

“Okay!” That pushes her to hop up and head to the kitchen. No more missing meals. Nope. Can’t happen. Something light like scrambled eggs and toast is better than nothing. That’s what she’ll make. And a glass of orange juice will hit the spot. 

Preparing it doesn’t take long. Despite having issues with food in general, she’s always had a knack for making it. Watching her mom as a kid helped a lot. It was easy to pick up.

The moment she sits at the kitchen bar and takes a bite, the doorbell rings. Once. Twice. Three times. All in rapid succession. It keeps going until she slams her fork down and slides off the stool. Who the heck would come here this early? And they don’t need to keep pressing the button. Anyone can hear it the first half a dozen times. 

“Hold on!” Her shout echoes down the hall. They’re lucky her dad’s not home. He would’ve had a conniption if they did that while he was here. Walking through the foyer to the front door, she gets up on her toes to look out the peephole. 

‘Crap! It’s Jason!’ 

“Just a minute!” Panic sets in as she slaps a hand against her forehead and spins around. There’s no way she can answer the door with this shirt on. All hell will break loose. Thankfully, her team jacket is hanging on one of the hooks by the entrance. She tosses it on and yanks the zipper up before pulling the hood over her messy hair. 

Taking a deep breath, she unlocks the door and opens it enough to see him. “Hey,” She doesn’t sound enthusiastic. Similar to how he doesn’t seem pleased. Her eyes watch him hesitantly and notice his hands are behind his back. After that dream, it's hard not to be a little freaked out. 

“Hey, Chris. What happened yesterday?” Jason gives her a strange look and leans back to glance through the door. Is it to see if her dad’s around? He still doesn’t know. It's better to keep it that way.  

‘What’s he talking about? Practice?’

“Did you forget? Yesterday was Valentine’s Day?” His brow furrows and she doesn't miss the muscles along his jaw tensing. 

‘Oh my god! I totally forgot! 

That was the last thing on her mind last night. There was no way they were going on a date. Not with what she was going through. He doesn’t have a single clue but that’s not his fault. She struggles to control her facial expression and put together something passable, trying to keep a lid on the guilt bubbling up.

“I’m so sorry! Yesterday was no good. I got really sick and had to stay in the nurse's office. She thinks it’s a stomach virus. My dad also has it. He’s been in the bathroom all morning.” At that, Jason takes a subtle step back. “I should’ve called you or told someone. I was just—” 

“Yeah, that makes sense.” He slowly nods while staring at her. That's not entirely wrong. A big portion of the day was spent in the nurse’s office. Didn’t he notice she was gone? A smirk passes over his mouth that she finds off-putting. For some reason, he's relieved. “Sorry to hear you’re sick. I thought you bailed on our plans.”

“Really?”

“I know. How stupid of me. It shouldn’t have even crossed my mind.” She flinches when he whips his hand out from behind, holding something out to her. A bouquet of red roses. “These were for yesterday but better late than never, right? Beautiful roses for my beautiful girl.” 

Chrissy smiles and gently takes them from him through the crack in the door. She brings the flowers closer to smell. “Thank you. They're lovely. I’ll put them in a vase.” 

“Sounds good. So, I was wondering… Your birthday is next weekend, and you mentioned before it didn’t matter what we do. My parents said we should have the party at our house. We can invite everyone over and do something small. They haven’t seen you in a while. It’d be a good chance to get the family together. I know your dad won't have a problem with that—”

Her lips part in surprise as he keeps going. From the sounds of it, the Carvers already have everything figured out. What they want to do, who they want to invite, etc. All for her eighteenth birthday next Saturday. It's true that she said it didn't matter but to have this suddenly dumped on her is a lot. Mostly because his parents have a very different idea of what 'something small' means.

“S–Sure.” After unintentionally ditching him on Valentine’s Day, she feels too guilty to turn this down. It’s the least she can do to make up for her indiscretions. 

“Great! I’ll let them know. My mom will take care of everything so all you need to do is look pretty and show up.” He winks and her mouth goes dry. “I’ll catch you later, babe. Feel better.” With a quick smile, he turns around and jogs back to the Jeep. They usually kiss each other goodbye but she’s supposed to be ill. 

Chrissy watches as he takes off, too stunned to know what to think. She closes the door and numbly walks through the house back to the kitchen. Holding onto the bouquet tightly. It gets tossed onto the counter for later as she gets back on the stool, staring straight ahead. Breakfast is cold now. 

‘What the heck was that?’

Aside from the obvious birthday party surprise, something isn’t sitting right with her. Jason was relieved she was sick with a stomach virus. That was better than the possibility she forgot about Valentine’s Day or worse, stood him up. 

‘But I lied to him. We both suck. I guess we deserve each other.’

“Alright, sweetheart. Let’s tuck you in.” Eddie carefully hangs his beloved back up on the wall. He kisses his fingers and brushes them along the strings. She’s gotten more than enough gentle caresses and sweet nothings whispered to her for one night. So spoiled. It was about time he gave her a new set with some fine-tuning. Sounds good as new now. 

They've been together so long that he can tell when anything is slightly off. After a while, the tone and intonation will change from normal wear and usage. That’s inevitable from all the stress, strain, dirt, sweat, and everything else that builds up and causes the strings to become uneven at certain points. It’ll sound a pinch duller to his sharp ears and eventually down the road, become more difficult to play if left that way. Then they’re more likely to break. Constant tuning can cause that to happen too. Jeff learned that lesson firsthand, despite his warnings. 

Walking over to his record set, he flips through them for something to listen to. Motörhead’s 'Ace of Spades' will do. Can’t ever go wrong with that album. He sits on the edge of the bed as music fills the air, not sure what to do with himself now. 

“Dammit,” There’s a pile of homework that needs to get done. It’s time to suck it the hell up and bite the bullet. His grades are shit but there’s still a chance of passing. This is his last shot. No more do-overs. If he can’t walk the stage with this class, they’re kicking him out and a high school diploma will forever be out of reach. There’s an age limit to attending public school. One more go around and he’ll run face-first right into it. 

‘Nope. Not happening. I’m getting it done.’

Eddie can feel it. This is going to be his year. The one where all the magic happens. If he can manage to get a D in O’Donnell’s, that diploma’s as good as his. Her final coming up is the last battlefield to get through. Surviving means victory. And Hellfire has some great fresh meat in it now, especially Henderson. Those kids are the future of the club. He knew it the moment he saw those dorks sitting by themselves at lunch. On top of that, his band. There’s only one direction to go and it’s up.

All the pieces are falling into place. 

World history is the biggest hurdle at the moment. Cracking open his textbook, he stares at the first question on the worksheet stuffed in there for what feels like forever. Reading it over and over again. Yeah. That's gonna be a hard pass. He slams it shut and tosses it on the floor. Maybe later. There’s too much energy coursing through him to sit quietly and focus on something so damn boring. That’s what the teachers don’t understand. A subject has to catch his interest for him to spend time on or it becomes an unbearable chore to get through. Then they wonder why he fidgets and needs to move around so much. 

“I’m young and I like the night. And I can make you feel all right... I’ve been around for quite a while. And I’ve learned now how to make you smile…”

Flopping down on the floor, he leans his back up against the mattress and pulls out a few items from underneath. This is something he doesn’t mind putting energy into. He reaches up to snatch a pack off the bedside table. Nothing beats having a smoke while drawing and listening to an album.

The sketchbook is chock-full of random doodles and half-assed scribbles. Some are more serious works. Time-consuming ones that took a lot of effort. His eyes gloss over the art he’s recently made. Monsters, weapons, random words, characters, entire scenes… A couple even make him laugh. There are plenty that still need to be finished. 

Snatching up a charcoal pencil, Eddie pokes at his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, already knowing which one gets the honor of reaching completion next. The piece he’s been showing favoritism to as of late ended up becoming a double spread. It might be his best work yet. A tiny part of him knows he should feel embarrassed when gazing down at the pages. This is shameless. Self-indulgent. So are the others. 

Whatever. That comes with the territory. No one's gonna see them anyway. These are for his eyes alone. 

He lights a cig and lets it hang from the corner of his mouth before picking up where he left off. Shading and filling in the bottom of his character’s billowy dress. It hangs loose on the woman’s lithe form, leaving her shoulders exposed and flowing around her, mid-spin. 

“What’ll I call you?” Almost done. A sketch of a woman dancing in a forest clearing at night. She looks blissful as her bare feet step over the grass and flowers covering the ground. An ethereal being with long wavy hair and small, pointed ears, giving away the fact that she’s not human. The moon is out shining brightly on that particular spot. Casting a glow through the trees surrounding the open area. Little faeries and fireflies flutter through the air, joining in on the fantasy party to stay close to their queen.

‘Titania...? Titania, Queen of the Faeries. Or is she Elven? Can’t decide.’

The mystical character’s face and figure are too familiar. Yep, he’s a pretty shameless guy. At least this one is tasteful. A thought jumps out at him. Moving up the page, he starts outlining a swarm of bats in the sky. That’s what it was missing. He couldn’t put his finger on it before but this is it. The scene was overly light and dreamy. Needed a little darkness added to the mix for some contrast. 

‘Heh. Aren’t you beautiful?’

“Surprised to see ya here on a Saturday night.” His uncle is leaning against the door frame. He must’ve got back from hanging out with the other old heads at the bar. Though they keep calling it a pub. There's a difference.

“I know. Real shocker.” 

“Want some pizza rolls?” Wayne’s got his flannel shirt all the way unbuttoned, showing the white tee underneath. Must be hot from drinking beers. It’s not often he lets go for a bit. Good for him. 

“Sure.” He’s not one to say no to food. There’s always room in the inn. “Hey, if the phone rings, can you let me know instead of hangin' up right away or taking it off the hook?” 

“You’re expecting a call, huh?” The older man chuckles and pushes off the frame to go into the kitchen. It’s close enough to hear each other perfectly fine. “Yeah, sure. I only do that ‘cause them damn collectors and telemarketers don’t know when to quit. Wish your old man didn’t have to go givin’ this number out.” 

Eddie sighs at that. His dad has always been a pain. Pushing debt collectors onto someone else is predictable for him. That was forever ago but they still have the same phone number. Too bad. No one’s coughing up any money for that bullshit. 

“Ya know how Johnny’s boy has been missin’?” Of course. Every time Wayne puts the news on, they replay the same segment with a tip line number. Same crap for the last week and a half or however long it’s been. “At the pub, Charlie said he saw some suits sniffin' around at the Gibson farm a couple days ago. Don’t know why folks from the government have any interest in a missing person case from a small town like ours.” 

‘Dogs.’

He arches a brow while putting some finishing touches on his piece. If there’s one thing this family isn’t a fan of, it’s the Man and their suits. Nothing but trouble. They just walk all over the little guy and do whatever they want.

“That got me thinkin’. Something’s stinking up a storm. Not putting my nose where it don’t belong, though. It could be a 'wrong place at the wrong time' kinda situation. Bad things happen to good people all the time.” 

“You can say that again.” Eddie can think of a few right off the top of his head. Like Chrissy.

“Here.” His uncle shuffles back into the bedroom with a plate in his hands. “Let me know if ya want some more.” He nods and thanks him, flipping the sketchbook over so Wayne can’t see what he’s doing. “And you be careful, ‘kay? Don’t need you gettin’ mixed up in whatever’s going on. They never tell us there's a problem 'til it's already solved.” 

“Gotcha.”

Chrissy hums happily as she leans back against the leather seat, enjoying the sun’s warmth on her skin and the fresh air. Two hands play with the strawberry blonde ponytail hanging over the headrest from behind. It’s relaxing. They should do this more often.

“You have such nice hair. I’m so jealous.” Natalie says while running her fingers through the wavy strands. It's a little messy right now from the wind.

“Don’t be. I’d love to have your red hair. It’s gorgeous.” She glances at her in the side mirror. If they could trade, it'd happen in a heartbeat. The compliment causes the girl’s face to flush and she shifts in the back, trying to get out of view without letting go. 

‘Silly.’

The basketball team is having a practice session today. It's Tuesday. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday are usually when both teams have their meetings. This next game is against a school they always lose to. Year after year with no luck. Jason isn’t taking any chances, even if the Tigers are on a winning streak. 

That’s okay. This gave Chrissy a chance to spend some time with her friends. He always insists on being her ride to and from school but she’s not waiting around for hours. No way. Charlotte was more than happy to step in as a substitute. It’s been a while since they took a ride in the convertible together. The light cream-colored ‘83 Buick Riviera she got for her sweet sixteen two years ago. 

The three of them are having fun singing along to songs on the radio, talking about boys, and driving aimlessly around town. This almost makes her feel like a normal high school senior. No one's expecting her to be home soon. No chores or homework to care about either. Right now, she’s free as a bird. 

'And no unnecessary drama.'

If there’s one thing to be truly grateful for, it’s that Natalie can keep stuff between them. She didn’t go around telling people what happened on Friday. Hearing that Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson stole the head cheerleader’s bookbag would’ve turned into juicy gossip for some. Or started a fight, depending on who’s listening. 

Yesterday, the junior asked about it, wanting to make sure nothing bad transpired and if so, there be punishment. Whatever that looks like. The best she came up with on the spot was that he was in the nurse’s office at the same time and offered to get it for her. Nothing crazy. After a handful of confused questions—like why would that guy do something nice for anyone—it was dropped. 

“Ugh, my thighs are killing me!” Charlotte whines loudly, taking a hand off the steering wheel to rub them. The other two feel it as well. Cheerleading is exhausting. It’s not just the routines themselves. They also work out in the weight room and run the track during some practices to stay in shape. “I need John to give me a massage. A very thorough one, if you know what I mean.” She laughs and looks over with a glint in her eye, already knowing the reaction her words will get. 

“That'll make you sorer.”

Chrissy tries to ignore what they’re saying and keeps her face in check. Getting rattled will only egg them on. Well, mostly Charlotte. If there’s a chance to shift the conversation toward anything sexy, she’ll take it. The brunette has become quite adventurous this last year, especially since she started dating her current boyfriend. 

It’s not her favorite direction. She gets flustered easily over that, and some think it’s funny. When it’s only the girls hanging out, their discussions can become uncomfortable. Most are pretty open with one another about private stuff. Probably not too different from guys with their locker room talk. Occasionally it points in her direction. 

What's sex like with Jason? They didn't yet? No way, that has to be a lie. Haven’t they been going out for a long time? He at least got a blow job, right? Why doesn’t she want to talk about it? Is he big? Small? What’s the hold-up? Is this some church thing? Are they waiting for marriage? Is she too shy to go into detail? Is it true? Doesn’t she know he has needs and if they’re not fulfilled, he'll eventually look elsewhere? 

As if all of that isn't weighing on her mind. The pressure has been on for a while now. It’s not like she doesn’t think about it. Chrissy went through a lot these last few years but she’s not dead. There’s warm blood rushing through her body. Same as theirs. In the sevenish months since they started officially dating, the right moment never happened. 

To be honest, a part of her is glad about that. 

“Hey,” A small tug on her ponytail brings her back to the present. She turns in the seat to face Natalie. “Did you hear what I was saying, Chris?”

“Sorry. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night so I kind of zoned out.” Chrissy looks at her friend apologetically. 

“Speaking of which… We were talking about having a sleepover party at my place. Not this weekend since it’s your birthday but the next. Just us girls on the team. It’s been forever and this is our last year so I figured why not?”

“Yeah! That’ll be fun. We can watch movies, stuff our faces, and paint our nails. Let's make the most of it.” The redhead smiles widely, hanging off the seat in front of her. “What do you think?”

“I’m in.” They’re right. There's not much time left until graduation and everyone going their separate ways. 

‘Dad should be back right before that. He’ll just have to deal with it.’

“I still can’t believe you’re having your party at Jason’s. With his parents there, too.” Charlotte tsks and shakes her head. “Eighteen is the big one. We should get messy. That won’t happen with them around. Are you sure about this? Like, I could set one up that you’ll never forget. You know how my parents are. Give me the word and it’s done.” 

“Thanks. I appreciate it but I already told them I would. After screwing up Valentine’s Day, I kind of feel like I need to make it up to him. He seems excited about it.” It wouldn’t be surprising to find out his parents intend to turn it into some sort of social event. They don’t know her dad’s out of town either. 

Here’s the thing. If the party is at the Carver’s house with his parents there, the chances of getting pressured into doing something she doesn’t want to do is a lot lower. Small talk, shaking hands, eating small amounts, and smiling are relatively easy. She’s done them countless times. If they have it at Charlotte’s or a place that's far more lax, then things will get out of hand. 

‘I already have an idea of what will happen. They’ll want me to get drunk and have fun. Jason wants to score. The first part can easily lead into the second if I’m messed up. No one would think much of it since we're dating.'

“Always something.”

Sometimes, Chrissy wonders if it’s better to get it over with. Suck it up, grit her teeth, and lay there until it’s done. Everyone can shut up about it then. No more embarrassing questions or assumptions. She won't have to feel guilty anymore like she’s been depriving him of something essential. 

It can’t be that bad. She should enjoy it. After going out this long, shouldn’t it be natural to have sex with a partner? They’ve known each other for years. Jason has it all and treats her okay for the most part. Could be a lot worse. Plenty of girls would love to switch places with her. 

‘I don’t know what to do.’

“Who cares about what he wants?” Natalie's tone surprises her. “It’s your birthday, not his. Weren’t you sick on Friday? Boo–hoo. Valentine’s Day isn’t that big of a deal. It’ll come around again next year like it always does.” 

“And that’s why you’re single, Nat.” Charlotte sighs, turning the radio back on. 

“Like I care.” The redhead folds her arms and leans back against the seat, huffing in annoyance. That’s an area the two don’t see eye-to-eye on. One loves everything about being in a relationship. The drama, passion, fighting, making up, ending them, starting one, etc. The other thinks it’s mostly a waste of time and energy.  

“Thanks.” Chrissy mouths the word to her friend as the music gets louder, drowning out any potential arguments. They give each other a small smile before she turns back and relaxes, letting the stress melt off her shoulders.

Steam pours out of the bathroom as the door opens. Gripping the towel around her body tightly, Chrissy walks across the carpet and sighs. The clock says it’s only 6:20. Charlotte dropped her off a couple of hours ago. It seems so much longer than that. 

‘Should I read a magazine?'

This is driving her up a wall. Each minute feels like twenty. At least. There’s no homework left to do. Nothing good on TV. She already spent a chunk of time after school hanging out with friends. The house is too quiet. Too empty. Taking a shower was just a way to kill time. For what? When her head hits the pillow, it’ll be nothing but nightmares or weird dreams. 

She’s completely restless. 

“I can’t stand this.” Jason must be done practice by now. They can spend some time together. It's a good chance to try fixing the gap that’s ever-present in their relationship. The two have become more distant lately. That shouldn’t be the case, especially since they’re at all the same events. He’s the star of the game while she cheers him on from the sidelines. 

‘No.’

That thought should startle her, yet it doesn’t. She barely knows what he’s up to half of the time. The team could be chugging down beers at Benny's. Doing it on a school night isn't an issue for them. They do their own thing with no regard for anyone else. 

Pulling out the chair at her vanity, Chrissy sits down and stares aimlessly at the wall. Part of her knows what she wants to do, even if it’s wrong. She glances at the scrap of paper lying next to a brush on the top. 

Eddie’s number. 

He did say to call if she needed anything. Wanting to hang out counts as anything, right? This isn’t that complicated. She’s just being difficult. He wouldn’t care. It’s been four days since they last spoke. A lifetime ago.

‘Today’s Tuesday.'

Calling him might be useless. When they met up for that initial deal, he said his band plays on Tuesday nights. His uncle also works the late shift. No one will be home to answer anyway.

“You should come see us. We play at The Hideout on Tuesdays, usually around 8. It’s pretty cool. We actually get a crowd of about five… drunks.”

Thinking about it has her heart racing. Is she that gutsy? What kind of place is The Hideout? That thought has popped up multiple times since he mentioned it. Each image she conjures up is worse than the last. First, it was a little place with a couple of older guys sitting on stools with beers. Then it devolved into a bar on fire with a bunch of cutthroats fighting and smashing bottles on each other’s heads while Corroded Coffin plays in the background, relishing in the mayhem. 

In reality, it’s likely neither. Or perhaps somewhere in between. Chrissy doesn’t have a clue. She’s never been to a bar or anything like that before. Her nails tap anxiously against the table's surface. The idea is so tempting. How would he react if she suddenly showed up? 

‘I want to see him.’

Biting her bottom lip, she stares at the vanity and debates the matter. Getting there's an issue. It’s downtown. Hawkins isn't big. She’s gone past The Hideout before on the way to a bookstore further down the street. Going inside a place is very different from seeing it in passing. 

“Whatever. I’m doing it.” Fighting herself on this is a waste of time. Time that can go to figuring out stuff like a ride or getting ready. It’s 6:32 and all she’s working with is a flimsy towel. Chrissy flops on her stomach across the bed and reaches out to grab the phone from the nightstand. At least she knows this number by heart. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, Charlotte. I know we just saw each other earlier but I have a humongous favor to ask.” 

“Yeah? What is it?”

“I need a ride to Clemen’s Bookstore. You know, that small shop on Prospect?”

“What?! You want to go to a bookstore now? Why don't you snag your dad’s car or wait until tomorrow? It's not like this is an emergency.”

“No way! I only have a permit. If something goes wrong, I’ll be in so much trouble. How about I make you a deal?”

“...I’m listening.”

“You know that bag you really like? The light blue one? If you take me tonight before eight, it’s all yours.”

“Deal. I don’t know what the rush is but I’ll do it on one condition. If anyone asks, it was never yours. Okay? I’ll pick you up in forty.”

The phone hangs up before she can respond. Well, that’s covered and they both benefit from it. 

‘Ah! I don’t have a lot of time!’

Chrissy lets the towel fall to the floor as she rushes around the room, tearing through her closet and drawers. What do people who hang out at places like that actually wear? Is there anything in here that wouldn’t make her stick out like a sore thumb? 

Eddie goes there every week with his band so probably lots of dark clothes, denim, band t-shirts, and patches. Her wardrobe is full of dresses, pastels, trousers, joggers, skirts, sweaters, and just about nothing that won’t draw attention. She doesn’t want to distract him either. Walking in with a bright yellow sundress on would undoubtedly do that. 

‘Maybe it’s dark in there?’

This is so frustrating. Without knowing what to expect, a simple outfit will have to do. She picks a long-sleeved red shirt and a pair of jeans to tuck them into. That’s pretty plain. Good. And a white headband to match her flats. There’s no telling if she’ll have to walk around so pumps or heels are a no-go for now. 

Sitting back down in front of the vanity, she quickly brushes out her hair, deciding to leave it down. It’ll look fine with the white band on top. Some shimmery light brown eyeshadow and a little gloss and she’s ready. 

‘Charlotte will be here soon.'

Chapter Text

Clemen's Bookstore is on the 'bad side' of town. A poorer section where convenient stores, bars, drunks, and punks can be found. The alleyways between the buildings have graffiti, trash, and glass from broken bottles that can be seen when driving past them. That alone is enough to get those who compare it to areas like Loch Nora to turn up their noses. Appearances matter and this section failed miserably.

It's already dark out when the '83 Buick Riviera pulls up in front of the old shop. Chrissy's made multiple trips to this place since freshman year. The bookstore closer to home didn't carry a series she got hooked on. After scouring through the yellow pages, Clemen's came up. The owner is a kind older man who was willing to order books for her if they weren't on the shelves. Right now, it's being used as an excuse to get down here.

"Are you sure you don't want me to wait?"

"No, it's fine. I'm going to be here for a while and have a way home." Hopefully. If not, this will be pretty humiliating. She grabs the purse by her feet and scoots over to open the car door.

"Alright... Stay safe. Give me a call when you get home, okay? So I can have some peace of mind."

"I will. Thanks for the ride." Chrissy smiles and nods, giving her friend a wave before turning away. The glow from the headlights moves across the front of the building as the car reverses. Charlotte's leaving. All she needs to do is take her time walking to the door until the Buick is completely gone.

Once the brunette tears out of the parking lot, she lets out a sigh of relief. Now onto the real plan. It's hard to believe this is happening. She's doing a lot of awful things lately. Hiding stuff from Jason. Lying to him and Charlotte. Keeping secrets from her friends. Sneaking out and going places that would give her dad a stroke if he found out. 

They wouldn't understand.

It's only a matter of time. Eventually—maybe sooner than expected—a choice has to be made. Graduation and deadlines are coming up. Her dad, Jason, and his parents are expecting her to go to IU Bloomington. Their semester begins in September. The clock is ticking. Does she go with the plan or try to forge her own path? 

'Forget it. I have more important things to worry about right now.'

This is unfamiliar territory. Staying alert is crucial, especially for a young woman alone at night. It's for a good cause. Like with the D&D session, she's getting a chance to dip her toes into his world. Eddie's bent over backward for her. This is an opportunity to do something for him for once. 

Her eyes dart around the area as she strides down the sidewalk, taking in all the details. Most stores are closed or will be very soon. Those still open are pawnshops, bars, and places that sell alcohol and cigarettes. At least, according to the neon signs and light boxes in front of the businesses.

The space between the buildings gets wider the further she goes. A small hand grips the long purse strap and clutches it tightly against her body. It should be coming up soon. Passing a vacant lot surrounded by a chain-link fence, she stops when something catches her attention. A large plywood sign haphazardly attached to it. Written across it is 'The Hideout' in black and red spray paint with a big arrow pointing straight ahead.

'Bingo!'

After picking up the pace, a decent-sized lot comes into view. A brick building is smack dab in the middle with cars and motorcycles parked nearby. The nervousness from earlier intensifies as she gets closer, seeing the lit-up sign with 'The Hideout' in bold red letters. This is it. She didn't notice it when driving by the other times but the windows have thick metal bars on them.

"Okay." Chrissy tries to shake the anxiety out of her arms. This isn't the kind of place someone like her would go to. Not at all. Another fish out of water moment. Spotting people out front only solidifies that idea. They're leaning up against the wall, smoking. The group looks intimidating. Aggressive. Rough around the edges. Same way Eddie did for the longest time.

It's chilly out yet a guy is wearing a denim vest with no shirt underneath. He's going to end up getting sick. Another has on a band shirt and red pants, sporting a mohawk. Then there's a woman. Her short bleach-blonde hair is striking, along with her leather jacket, black miniskirt, fishnet stockings, and boots. So this is how the people dress here? As she thought, there was nothing at home that would've helped her fit in.

"Hey, sweetheart. You lost?" She jumps when an arm wraps around her shoulders. Panic freezes her for a second before managing to peer up at the stranger. A tall man with light brown hair that's long enough to reach his chest. Early 20s, for sure. It's the smell that hits her first. A mixture of cigarettes, sweat, and alcohol makes her nose crinkle. "What's a cute girl like you doing 'round here, hmm?"

He's so drunk that he's leaning into her. One step to the side and he'll tumble right over. Still, she doesn't know what to do. He's a lot bigger and stronger, wasted or not. As with the man in the vest, this person is also a fan of not wearing a shirt. Only a leather jacket. His shiny, sweaty chest is just inches from touching her hair.

"There's nothing for you in there. Trust me. I know your type. If you're lookin' for trouble, I'm right here." It comes out crystal clear for someone so obviously wasted. He groans, stumbling forward and almost knocking her over. "C'mon. Let's beat it."

"Leave me alone. I don't want to have to pepper spray you." Her voice is too soft to intimidate anyone. Having a short stature doesn't help either.

The guy chuckles, leaning back to get a better look at her. Eyes glazed over and pupils dilated. He smirks down at Chrissy, making her feel incredibly small. "You're cute."

Discomfort and a sense of helplessness turn into indignation. This jerk thinks she's a joke. Something to toy with. There's the worry that saying the wrong thing could set him off but staying still and hoping he goes away obviously isn't working.

"I'm serious." Chrissy glares, slowly reaching toward her purse. This isn't how she imagined any of this going. If he won't stop, there's not much of a choice in the matter.

The smirk on the man's face falters. Craning his neck back, he blinks in an attempt to regain his focus on her. Is it to see if she's serious about the threat? A strange expression flashes across his features and he recoils. "Demon girl." He moves to back off but is too drunk to figure out which way to go.

"What the fuck, man!" The vest guy standing out front rushes over. It only takes him seconds to reach them with him firmly grabbing the drunk by his lapels. "I turn my back for one minute." Finally, the creep doesn't seem to have anything to say. He just sways in place while staring at her as the other man shakes him angrily.

"Sorry." The stranger with the mohawk makes his way to them. These must be the drunk's friends. "Dude's super smashed and tired. Didn't mean nothin' by it."

"Got it." Her voice is little more than a squeak unable to say anything beyond that. She stays rooted to the spot while the two drag their buddy off, guiding him to a concrete parking stop in the opposite direction to sit down. The blonde pushes off the wall to see what's going on.

This was a bad idea. Not even a single step inside yet and something already happened. What now?

Chrissy grips the front of her shirt and takes a deep breath to calm down. It was one drunk acting out. That's all. Will she let that ruin everything else after already coming this far? There are three options for what comes next—One: run to a payphone to call Charlotte then apologize profusely. Two: head inside and carry on as planned. Three: stand here like an idiot while hoping things don't get worse.

'It has to be two.'

Eddie should be in there. That's the safest bet. The other options leave her on her own and who knows for how long. As long as he's somewhere in that building, everything will be okay. Leaving now will make all of this pointless. She came here for a reason. 

If he can put up with the weirdo stuff going on with her, then it should be nothing to slap on a brave face and walk in. Sure, she's not a tough guy or a headbanger or a punk, but she is captain of the cheer team. No one is going to frighten her away like some mouse.

She clenches her teeth, steeling herself. That's it. Stop being a baby. Good things won't come her way unless she's willing to take chances. This friendship is proof of that. 

Chrissy marches to the door and swings it open, heading in. The most important step is completed—making it inside. Stopping after a few paces, her eyes roam over everything in sight. This place is pretty dim. Kind of what she expected. The brick walls are covered with posters of bands and movies, framed pictures, beer signs, and event flyers. There are glass cases and shelves up high with various things. Vinyl records, signed pictures from musicians, memorabilia, and a shiny black and blue guitar on a stand. 

To the right is an area with pool tables and pendant lights hanging from the ceiling. A group, dressed as she now expects, is standing around shooting pool while drinking beers. Straight ahead of her is a long bar with a ridiculous amount of alcohol behind it. More bottles of hard liquor than she'd ever seen. They're all across the back counter in multiple rows and on shelves.

Along the opposite wall are booths and in the center, three small tables with chairs. Beyond that is an open space that she can only assume is for people to watch the bands play. Then finally, the stage. The platform is wider than expected and already has a bunch of equipment set up on it.

"Jesus." The Hideout is nothing like the scene her imagination cooked up. It's not just some tiny dive with a couple of truckers and barely enough room for the band to play in the corner. This place isn't enormous yet is bigger than how it appears from the outside.

"Can I help you?"

Chrissy jolts when a voice calls out to her. Turning back, she finds the source. A tall woman behind the counter drying a glass. The cheerleader immediately gawks at her crop top with the word 'Slayer' on it and the deep olive skin of her exposed abdomen. She knows it's rude to stare but it's weird seeing so many people dressed so differently.

"I—" Words are suddenly hard to string together. She takes a step toward the bar before checking in case there's anyone in the vicinity who can save her, namely Eddie. This lady is fierce. Like she can bite a head off with a single chomp. Now that they're closer, it's easier to see all the tattoos on the woman's strong arms. Her long dark hair obscured them at first.

"You need some directions? Or a phone? We got one in the back." The bartender's gaze trails up and down, scrutinizing her. Making her feel small all over again. It's no wonder. To them, it's like a square got lost and wandered in here by accident.

"I'm here to see Corroded Coffin. They're playing tonight, right?" 

The woman's expression goes blank as she stares at her. "You're here to see… Corroded Coffin?" 

"Mhm. Eddie invited me." Chrissy says more shyly than intended. It's odd hearing it out loud.

"Eddie did?" She arches a thin brow, appearing more surprised than anything. "Eddie Munson? Eddie the guitar player? That Eddie?"

"Yeah. That's the one." Is that strange? She likely knows him a lot better. After all, his band plays here every week. It wouldn't be a stretch to say the people who frequent this place have spent more time around each other. They have common interests. Everything in this bar screams it loud and clear.

"Really? Huh. That's interesting. How do you know him?" Going back to drying glasses on the counter, her dark eyes flicker between the task at hand and the newbie.

"We go to school together."

"And he invited you to see him play?" Interest. Skepticism. A large dose of amusement. It's all playing out on her face. "You his girl or somethin'?"

"W–What?! No, I'm just a friend." She answers a little too dramatically. "A good friend. It's nothing like that." Warmth pools in her cheeks at the way the bartender's staring. This person is picking her apart while trying to work something out, and she's not doing herself any favors. 

"Okay, then you might as well take a seat." A hand smacks down on the other side of the bar. The bangles and chain wrapped around her wrist clang against the smooth surface. "They won't be on for another fifteen minutes. Unless you want me to go get him?"

"No! No, that's okay. I don't want to bother him before he goes on." Chrissy ignores the smirk on the woman's face and picks a stool to sit on. She hangs her purse on the back before climbing on, thankful they're not higher. The ones in Charlotte's basement are ridiculously tall. These aren't nearly as bad. 

'Comfy.'

A small white flat taps against the footrest as she bounces her leg, glancing around curiously. At the end of the bar are a couple of guys smoking and sipping beers. Same with one of the booths. There are more than five drunks here. Twenty is a better estimate. Was Eddie full of baloney or are they busier than usual? Still, that's good for a Tuesday night in a small town like Hawkins.

"What kinda drink do you want?" The dark-haired woman leans over the bar on her elbow, waiting expectantly. 

"Water?"

"I meant a drink drink. Something to loosen you up a bit. You look so uncomfortable that it's giving me anxiety in my own place. Not cool. Customers will think you're a rookie narc on the job."

Now would be a great time for the floor to burst open and swallow her up. Is that the vibe she gives off? So embarrassing, especially to hear it from the apparent owner herself. It's bizarre how things can be easily flipped. At school, she's the head cheerleader and one of the popular kids. Her position here is 'tiny dweeb in the wrong place'.

"I'm not twenty-one." 

"Yeah, and? Unless you plan on snitching then it really doesn't matter. Eddie wouldn't mess around with someone like that. So what do you want? A beer? Fruity cocktail? Shots? What do you like? C'mon, work with me here."

Feeling the pressure and not wanting to seem lame, she sucks in her bottom lip and skims over the wide array of bottles. Perhaps it would help her loosen up a bit. Something on the lighter side. It'll be humiliating if Eddie has to peel her off the bar and babysit when the whole point is for them to hang out. Not be a pain in the butt.

"To be honest, I don't drink. Can you make me something sweet that isn't too strong?"

"Sure thing. I already have one in mind." She grabs a tall glass from under the counter that's wider at the top compared to the bottom. Bottles are yanked from behind and placed next to it.

Chrissy quickly looks away, bouncing her foot even harder. Unbelievable. Not even her friends managed to pull this off. It's not like she's never had alcohol. Just a small amount here and there, usually from another person's cup. A beer at a party, a wine cooler at Charlotte's, and sneaking some red wine when her parents had friends over. That wasn't enough to get wasted. They always tasted nasty to her but maybe things changed since then.

She focuses on everything except the person pouring her drink. There's plenty of stuff to check out. Above the rows of bottles are multiple lit-up beer signs, a UK flag, and a framed picture hanging up. A weird mummy in a red military uniform baring his teeth, holding a tattered UK flag on a battlefield.

"Here you go." That was fast. Her brows shoot up when the drink is placed on the counter. It's a deep red at the bottom that fades into orange with it being the brightest at the top. An orange slice is wedged on the rim and a cherry floats on the surface along with some ice.

"That's called a 'Tequila Sunrise'. It's popular with chicks. When the Rolling Stones came to the US on tour, it's said that Mick Jagger liked it so much that he ordered it at every place the band stopped at. He renamed it the 'cocaine and tequila sunrise tour'. What a card!" The bartender laughs and leans back, putting her hands on her hips.

'Uh-oh.'

Inching forward, she hovers over the drink and takes a whiff. The citrus scent is the first thing to whack her in the nose. Time to take the plunge. She grabs the straw and dives in. It's sweet. Tart. The orange juice stands out the most and alcohol-wise, it's not too strong. There's another flavor here that's hard to put a finger on.

"It's so good." The glass is held close as she swings her feet under the counter and happily sips the orange concoction. Maybe things are changing. Or it could be that she finally tried one that better suited her taste.

"Great! I hoped you would. I added some crème de cassis to the bottom layer. It really balances it out instead of getting a mouth full of that sweet shit. Not a big fan of grenadine. Sucks ass for the most part."

'I have no idea what she's talking about.'

She stares as the woman rambles on about spirits and mixing cocktails while drinking her own. The terms being thrown around are totally lost on her. What the heck is a highball? Before long, the glass is half empty. Her stomach has a warm sensation spreading through it and she slowly relaxes.

"Anyway, I'm Donna. As in Belladonna. As in the nightshade."

"I'm Chrissy… as in Chrissy." Nothing special. People assume it's short for Christine or Christina. No. Just Chrissy. The answer gets a chuckle from the bartender which gives her a confidence boost.

"How long have you known Eddie?"

"Since middle school. We didn't start hanging out until recently though." With the Tequila Sunrise already almost gone, her mind is getting a bit fuzzy. Eating before Charlotte came would've been a smart idea. 

"Gotcha. I'd say about the same. That little shit started sneaking in here around 14 or 15. Got tired of chasing him out so I let it go. Glad I did."

"Yeah." Chrissy fidgets from the way Donna's looking at her. It's intense. Enough to make her shift against the stool and quickly finish the rest of the cocktail.

"He's kinda like the younger brother I never wanted but got anyway." She leans closer to the bar to stare into the cheerleader's eyes. Putting her on the spot. "So I'd be pretty upset if anyone hurt him. You catch my drift?"

'What's going on? Did I miss something?'

"Stop being a biotch. She's just a kid. Besides, I doubt Eddie would appreciate that." A man behind the bar sits up with a magazine in his hand. It says Heavy Metal on the cover with a barely clothed model posed provocatively in front of a drum set. He frowns at Donna, running a hand through his long dirty blond hair. Like her, both arms are covered in countless tattoos that are easy to see thanks to his black beater.

"Shut it, Dom. I'm lookin' out for him."

"Dude's a grown-ass man. He doesn't need anyone's help."

Putting the glass down on the counter, Chrissy wrings her hands in her lap. "I came here to show my friend some support. It's obvious this is really important to him. I'm not trying to cause any problems or hurt anyone. I just wanted to surprise him."

No one says anything for several moments. She hesitantly glances up and is relieved when Donna's expression softens. "Well, I guess there's nothing to worry about then. Gotta say... I can't wait to see his face when he realizes some cutie from school came to see him play. Brat's gonna have a stroke."

"Heh. Probably." The guy reclines in his seat and flips through the pages to find where he left off.

"You want another one?" Hoping to keep the good mood going, she nods and grabs her purse to pay. "Don't worry 'bout it. They're on the house." A twenty is slipped into the tip jar anyway.

Something is going on. From the corner of her eye, Chrissy notices more people shuffling into the bar. Dom gets up and sighs, tossing the magazine onto the counter. "Bout five minutes 'til your boy's on." He slips behind Donna to go into the back. Her face flushes as another drink is set down in front of her.

'My boy?'

This side of the building gets darker. Too dark. The stage lights switch on and change to a red hue. She can hardly make out what color her drink is. A group comes out from the back onto the stage, messing with the equipment and plugging cords in. 

Leaning forward, she squints to adjust to the lighting. Excitement bubbles up from recognizing the musicians on stage. It's them. Gareth sits down on a stool behind the drums, twirling the sticks between his fingers. Jeff is on guitar and Grant on what she's assuming is a bass since it has fewer strings.

Then there's Eddie...

Grabbing a handful of loose hair, she covers the grin spreading across her face. Eddie's wearing a sleeveless band shirt with 'Metallica' across it that leaves his arms fully exposed. Instead of his white Reeboks, he has on boots and a pair of dark pants that are ripped at the knees. That wild, shaggy hair pokes out from under a black bandana with a white design on it that's hard to make out from where she's sitting. 

'He's hot.'

Chrissy gasps and grabs her drink from the bar. That won't help. She shouldn't be thinking anything like that.

The speaker makes a loud buzzing noise when it's turned on that causes her to wince. The band members all get into position. Eddie shouts, tightening the grip on his guitar and begins playing. Grant follows up along with Gareth on the drums, starting slow and gradually picking up until music fills the entire building.

'This is live heavy metal?'

Her head is two seconds from exploding. It's louder and more chaotic than expected. The sound travels into her ears and straight to her brain. Yep. She's going to have a massive headache after this. That's inevitable. 

She tries to focus on Eddie. His features contort with concentration as he strums intensely. It's only the beginning of the first song. A curse slips out of her mouth when he starts headbanging, whipping his hair around as the rhythm gets faster. How that bandana doesn't slip off and go flying is a mystery.

'Holy crap!'

His boot steps on an amp and he leans over, bending his knees and banging his head even harder. A feat that should be physically impossible. Her eyes widen, staring in disbelief and worry. That man is going to break his neck.

A finger taps her on the forearm. Tearing her attention away from the scene on stage, she sees Donna with a small grin. "Don't worry! That's normal!" The woman cups her hands, attempting to yell over the music. "Isn't he great?!"

Chrissy glances back at the band. Yes, they are great. And Eddie's fantastic. Donna moves on to take care of other customers. Good. There won't be anyone studying her silly reactions.

To her surprise, Jeff walks up to the mic and sings. It's much deeper than expected. Eddie goes up to the other one to do backup. Their distinct vocals complement each other. She didn't realize it until now but his voice goes up a few octaves the louder he gets.

If playing D&D was Eddie in his element, then what is this called? It seems so natural for him. She can't look away, almost mesmerized by what's happening on stage.

Now that her eyes are used to the red lighting, they narrow in on the ringed fingers playing. A pick in one hand and the other holding onto the neck of the guitar, moving incredibly fast. It's impressive. More so than when she watched him perform in middle school. He's at a totally different caliber compared to back then.

Despite knowing it's wrong, Chrissy's gaze travels up to his arms, watching the lean muscles shift and flex with each movement as he plays. The corded veins in his forearms and wrists are more prominent than before. Honestly, she might be their biggest fan. The sleeveless shirt he's wearing shows off the tattoo on his right tricep. What is that? A dragon? She can always ask him about it later.

'Wow. They're amazing.'

The normal lights were turned on about twenty minutes ago. Corroded Coffin finished up and began taking their equipment into the back. The entire thing must've lasted almost an hour, including a fifteen-minute break in between.

It took a bit for her head to stop swimming. Whether that was from the live music or the drinks, she's not entirely sure. All Chrissy knows is that she's excited to finally see him. Hopefully, he didn't leave after packing up their stuff. That would really suck.

'I think I'm definitely buzzed.'

Donna keeps trying to hand out drinks but that's a firm no. After nursing the second one for most of the performance, a third one was slapped onto the counter. It'll have to go unfinished because there's no way she can get through it. Not with this low tolerance. 

When the band comes out from the back, a breath catches in her throat. Eddie walks out with a strut. Shoulders back, chest out, and head held high. He's far more relaxed and confident here than at school. The man's a sweaty mess. His dark hair is damp and curling, practically glued to his skin.

'He is hot. Maybe even more now.'

She swallows hard and takes another sip, praying there's a filter in place for her mouth since the one upstairs is busted. How to go about this slipped her mind. Should she go over to them? Call out to him? The group stops at the end of the bar as Dom puts some beers on the counter. The two guitar players take turns clasping hands with a guy sitting on a stool, patting each other on the back. Waiting seems to be the best option since they're talking to people. It'd be rude to interrupt them.

It's hard not to notice how Eddie's skin is glistening from the sweat in this lighting. He grabs the bottom of his shirt and pulls it up to wipe his face. Her eyes shoot open at the sight of his chest and abdomen, then move to the little happy trail below his belly button.

'Oh my god! I just saw his nipples!'

Chrissy splays a hand across her face, still peeking through the spaces between her fingers. This is wrong. The guy doesn't even know she's here watching him. He tugs the shirt back down and snatches up a beer.

Grant is the first to finally notice her. Relaxing with his drink, he casually looks around until his gaze lands on her further down the bar. They widen into saucers as he yells a jumbled mess that makes no sense. He slaps a large hand against his friend's Metallica shirt and points at her in a state of shock. Eddie frowns and takes a swig then glances over.

"My floor!" Donna chucks her dishrag at them when he sprays beer over it.

"C–Chrissy?!" His eyes are wider than Grant's. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and shoves the cloth into Gareth's chest. No one in the band moves for a good minute as they stare at her. The boys are malfunctioning. It takes a moment to shake it off and regain his composure before stepping over the mess on the floor.

Trying not to lose her own, she takes a deep breath and watches him mindlessly fixing his hair. Beer in hand, he slides up next to her at the bar. Going by body language alone, one would think he's cool and collected. That pale face with his reddening neck and ears tells a very different story. 

"Hey," Eddie puts his drink on the counter and awkwardly scratches his elbow. "Didn't know you were coming."

"The invite was still good, right? I wanted to surprise you. Seems like it worked." This isn't exactly the reaction she was hoping for. Was it not genuine? Maybe he assumed someone like her wouldn't actually come to a place like this so it didn't matter. That deflates her.

"Ah-huh. Sure did." Hopping up on the next stool, he stares straight ahead, tapping his knuckles against the countertop. "Did you see it from the beginning?"

"Yep. I got here like fifteen minutes before you guys started."

"For real? So, uh… what did you think?" Eddie looks over at her curiously, chewing on the side of his mouth. That throws her previous idea right out of the window. Nope. She took things the wrong way. 

"I thought it was really cool." A blush spreads across Chrissy's cheeks that deepens when his face lights up with a wide grin. Perhaps it's the alcohol but she feels unusually warm.

"Yeah? Sweet." Saying he's pleased would be an understatement. That answer shifted the mood considerably. His eyes trail down to the glass in front of her. "I take it Donna insisted on making you something?"

"She said it's a—" The name slips out into the ether. What was it again? All that comes up is a blank. That makes her giggle realizing she's tipsier than intended. 

"A Tequila Sunrise, right? Did she bring up the Mick Jagger bit too?" She laughs in response to his questions and nods. "I didn't know you drank."

"I don't."

Eddie glances at both of their drinks. "You wanna try it?" He holds his bottle out to her with an eyebrow raised. A tiny bit wouldn't hurt. Accepting the offer, she takes it from him and is surprised when her cocktail is snatched off the counter. The guy doesn't even hesitate to drink right from her straw. When he looks back at her expectantly, she takes a sip from his beer and makes a face.

"Don't like it, huh?" He chuckles, watching as she smacks her lips and hands it back. "That's okay. Yours is too sweet for me. Seems right for you, though."

It's interesting how people can react so differently to the same things. Her mind goes back to the party at Noah's house two weeks ago. When she went out back and sat on Jason's lap with a red cup. How he wanted to know what was in it, almost in an accusatory way. While everyone else is drinking and smoking pot, she's expected to stay perfectly clean like a good girl. No stepping over any imaginary lines. Always having to behave. 

"Chrissy! Good to see you again." They turn to see Jeff standing there with a smile and beer in his hand. Out of the group, he's been the nicest to her. That makes him her favorite so far. The others slowly make their way over too, likely still surprised at the unexpected visit.

"Same. You guys were great! I didn't know you were such a good singer."

"If you think I'm good, then you should see this guy when he puts his back into it. Or lungs, more like." Jeff slaps the lead guitarist on the back.

"Nah, man. You're the real deal." He says lower than normal. That only makes her more curious. Sure, she heard him do backup but what about on his own? And he wasn't putting his all into it?

'I want to hear him sing.'

A person standing behind Jeff draws her attention. Grant. The only one not talking with anyone. Gareth is chit-chatting with Dom over the bar so that just leaves him. Taking another sip from his bottle, he looks increasingly uncomfortable. That wasn't the case a few minutes ago. Is it because of her?

"Hey, um, no hard feelings about Friday night, right? I probably got too carried away. I'm sorry." He appears stunned to realize she's speaking to him. It was never her intention to make anyone upset during the session.

"No. No hard feelings." Tilting his chin down, a smirk appears. "I am a little worried you might be as ruthless as our DM. One cutthroat is bad enough."

"Right? I don't think she's quite there yet. That could change down the road though. Eddie's a bad influence on people." Gareth chimes in as Dom sets more drinks down on the counter for them.

Yet.

Down the road.

Does that mean they expect Chrissy to be around for a while? Long enough for Eddie to influence her? No one would bring that up about a person they dislike. The thought makes her feel warm inside and this time, she's sure it's not from the alcohol.

"Okay! Let's see it!" People grumble and curse as the source of the noise pushes past them to get to the bar. A tall guy in a leather jacket with no shirt on and that long, light brown hair. He stumbles through and leans on Jeff and Gareth with a lit cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. "I heard some crazy shit. That Munson's gotta girl. Need to see it to believe it."

"Piss off, you drunk." Eddie waves him off and picks up his bottle, taking another swig. Treating the situation like he's seeing an annoying gnat flying around for the hundredth time. Nothing more. From the way Jeff sighs, this isn't a first-time thing.

The man's eyes go impossibly wide when they land on Chrissy. "Oh, hell no! Not the hot demon girl."

"What did you just say?" The beer gets slammed down onto the counter and Eddie whirls around, glaring at him.

'Crap, crap, crap.'

"I said. Hot. Demon. Girl." Pushing his weight onto the band members, the drunk leans forward, trying to antagonize him. Itching for a fight.

Is one of those barroom brawls she's heard about going to break out? From their expressions and the gleam in their eyes, these guys are ready to throw fists. Perhaps that scene she envisioned will come to pass. Bottles being smashed, furniture used as weapons, teeth flying, the curtains catching fire... A hand covers her mouth. No way. Someone has to stop them before anything bad happens. 

"Woah, woah, woah! Settle down!" Dom hops over the counter to stand in between them, putting his hands up. "No battle of the bands tonight, fellas. Don't make me get 'that'. I already got my work cut out for me. Save it for the weekend or some shit. Tom!" Looking over to the person who was out front earlier wearing a vest, he motions for him to come over. "Can you get Jax outta here? He's acting up again."

"No, I'm not! You guys are too fucking sensitive. No one around here knows how to chill anymore." Narrowing his eyes on Eddie, he pushes off the two and shuffles away.

'Thank goodness.'

"Relax, man." Sighing, Dom turns to the guitarist and crosses his arms. "Ya know he's having a rough time."

"I am relaxed. That dumbass was the one starting shit. Not me."

Jeff clicks his tongue in annoyance. "It's not our fault he keeps taking his crap out on us. Dude's been carrying on like this for weeks."

The older man runs a hand through his dirty blond hair. If they're all regulars here, it must be tough trying to sort out any conflicts between them. "Damn. I'm gonna have to get Donna to talk with him again. He's actin' like a fool lately. Don't know what's gotten into him."

"Sorry about that." Chrissy flinches when a voice whispers in her ear. A hand presses against her back and rubs small circles over it until she finally lets out a relieved breath. "You wanna go? Maybe get something to munch on at the diner down the street?" Seeing the hopeful look on his face, she nods without giving it a second thought.

"What about our ride? We still have to put all the equipment in the van. It's already quarter to ten." Gareth taps the watch on his wrist. It is pretty late and they all have school tomorrow.

"Don't worry 'bout it. I'll help with that and take you guys home." Crawling back over the counter, Dom picks up a few empty bottles to toss out. "Eddie, just grab your shit and beat it."

"Sure thing."

By the time the van pulls out of the parking lot, it's already after ten. The diner they're going to is a five-minute drive down Prospect. It's open all hours. Perfect spot for people out late and truckers looking for somewhere to stop on their routes.

"So, what was that about?" Eddie glances over at her. "The whole Jax thing. You know him?"

"No. He came up to me in the parking lot when I got there and was being obnoxious." She kind of hoped it wouldn't get brought up but of course he'd want to know. There's something off-putting about that man and it's not just his behavior. 

"What'd he do?"

"Just being a creep, I guess you can say." That puts a scowl on his face. What's the deal with those two? It seemed more targeted at him than the others. "I don't think he liked the idea of getting pepper sprayed though."

"Hah! Serves that moron right."

The music takes over as they both leave it at that. Chrissy doesn't want to spend another second thinking of that person. There's no point in letting him ruin the night. Still, she can see Eddie's eyes shifting back and forth while staring out at the empty road. He's mulling over things. Probably nothing good by his expression. 

"What song is this?"

"Hm? Oh, uh, 'Comfortably Numb' by Pink Floyd. Figured after you spent the night listening to the heavier stuff, I'd play something lighter. You like it?" That worked. His shoulders relax a bit and he leans back against the driver's seat. Whatever was on his mind must've been agitating him.

"Yeah, it's okay."

"You can borrow it if you want. But you break it, you buy it." 

She considers it for a moment. This isn't exactly her flavor of music. Their tastes are very different. It's not bad at all. Maybe they can meet somewhere in the middle from time to time. Borrowing it would also give her an excuse to see him again.

'I don't really need one, do I? This worked out pretty well.'

"Thanks but I don't have anything to play it on." That almost slipped her mind. There's no point in borrowing a tape if there's nothing to put it in.

"Huh? You don't have a cassette player?" Eddie's brow furrows when she shakes her head. It's as if the thought alone is mind-boggling. For someone so passionate about music, it probably is. "No stereo? Or boombox? Nothing?"

"We have a stereo system. It's behind a glass door that stays locked. My parents only used it when they had company. And I had a walkman but... it broke." There's no way she'll tell him how it got that way. 

"That's lame as hell."

The van makes a sharp turn into the diner parking lot. They both hop out and head in, with him holding the door open for her.

Chrissy is a little anxious. These diners usually give out large portions on big plates. Ordering a meal will make her feel obligated to finish it. Eddie is going to notice how much she eats. Will he think she's wasteful if any of it is tossed? Pushing through the first half and taking the rest home in a container should get around that.

Standing near the entrance, she bites her thumbnail, trying to calm her nerves. An older woman walks over yet everything said goes in one ear and out the other. What she does pick up on is the look they're getting.

Did he say something rude while she wasn't paying attention? Or is it because they're teens out late on a weekday? The woman shows them to a booth against the wall and drops the menus on the table before leaving.

'I guess he didn't see that.'

Nope. This guy is completely relaxed and in a pleasant mood now. He yanks off his leather jacket and tosses it in the corner without a care. Sliding into the one across from him, she grabs the menu to avoid staring. Again. At his bare arms and shoulders like some creep.

'Food. Focus on food. What can I get that's not too heavy? Wait! How is this going to work? Should we ask for separate checks? I have cash on me. Would it bother him if I paid for everything?'

"Shit." He groans and rubs his forehead with the heel of his palm, smacking it a few times. "This probably wasn't such a good idea."

"What? Why?" 

Eddie gives her a long look, then sighs. "Nothing. Hey, so how about we just get some appetizers to share?"

"Oh, um, yeah. That's fine." Pushing the menu off to the side, she can't help being confused. Is he not that hungry? It's doubtful something small will fill him up. Now might be a good time to bring up the bill. Maybe if he knows it's taken care of, he'll eat to his heart's content. 

'What should I do?'

"You want anything specific?" She shakes her head at his question as the server comes back with a pad and pen. There are only a couple of people in the place so the wait's short. Right away, he quickly jumps into a grocery list of an order. Fries with cheese on the side, mozzarella sticks, buffalo wings with celery sticks and blue cheese, potato skins, onion rings, jalapeño bites, chicken poppers, hush puppies, and breadsticks. Then gets a large root beer float to top it off and closes the menu.

"Are you ordering a meal, too?" The waitress still has that odd expression as her eyes flicker between them.

"That is the meal." There's some bite to his tone that disappears when he turns back to her. "What do you want to drink?"

"Mmm. I'll have a small strawberry shake." Splurging a bit wouldn't hurt, right? She's still floaty from those cocktails at the bar.

"Of course you would." Eddie grins and hands the menus to the waitress. When the woman heads to the back, he tilts his head to the side, eyeing the cheerleader. "Did you eat anything before coming?" The guilty look across the table tells him everything. A ringed finger wags at her and he tuts. "Gotta eat before drinking. That's asking for trouble. It's one of the golden rules of the Munson doctrine."

"Munson doctrine? What else is in it? Also, I wasn't planning on drinking. It just kind of happened."

"You'll have to wait to find out. Can't lay all my cards on the table at once. Man's gotta have some mystery." He adjusts his bandana, raking his fingers through the curly hair sticking out from beneath it. "But yeah, Donna's pushy sometimes. I'd bet my bottom dollar that's what it is. She loves making drinks. Not a great combo depending on who's dealing with her."

"She's a little scary," Chrissy whispers like the bar owner might pop out of the woodwork to scold her.

"Pshh. A little? I couldn't tell you how many times she's threatened to break my legs."

That earns him a laugh, only to be cut off when the waitress returns with their drinks. A few moments later, she's making her way across the diner with a large tray full of plates and baskets. They take up most of the table, hardly leaving room for anything else. 

'That's a lot of food. I just need to take it easy. No skipping meals or bingeing. Find a happy medium.'

"You can take what you want. No pressure." He looks her in the eye and nods, then starts piling food onto his plate. 

This is puzzling to her. At first, she assumed he was going with appetizers because they were cheaper. With each additional order, it became apparent that wasn't the idea. Individually they're not much. All of this added up together? Two dinners would cost less. 

"Here, try this. It's really good." Eddie leans over the table with a chicken popper between his fingers. She stares at him blankly, taking a moment to realize what he's trying to do. No way. Reaching up to grab it herself, the hand swerves out of the way and a sly smile spreads across his face. "Nuh-uh."

'You've got to be kidding me!'

Chrissy turns beet red as she turns her face away. Is this guy serious? He wants to feed her? How embarrassing. It's one thing to toss food to each other and catch it. Friends do that. This is different. Crossing a line. But she opens up anyway, letting him plop the little piece of crispy chicken on her tongue.

"Bangin', right?" The corner of his lips curl up into a playful expression. He's thoroughly enjoying this. Part of her wants to throw a fry at him for it.

She covers her mouth and nods, ignoring the nagging voice carrying on inside. What possessed her to go along with it? Whatever. It's not a big deal. Doing stuff like that just complicates things. No, not things. Her. Perhaps it'll make more sense when the alcohol is completely out of her system.

"I never asked what you were planning after graduation."

There's the obvious answer but that normally doesn't happen right away. It can take years to get to that level. Most don't make it at all. He will. One way or another. A feeling in her gut says so.

Chrissy takes a deep breath and stares up at the night sky, gazing at all the shimmering stars laid out across it. She pulls out a few blades of grass. Thankfully, it's not dead here and can act as a cushion between her body and the ground. 

'This is so nice.'

God knows how late it is. Probably after midnight. After finishing up at the diner, it was clear neither of them were in a rush to head home. Coming to the lake was his idea, and she was perfectly okay with that. There's no one waiting for her at the house anyway.

"Oh, you know... Just become a famous guitarist." Eddie snorts, his smile getting wider. Listening to him talk about things he's passionate about is a welcome reprieve. It's so earnest she can't help being drawn in. "For now, we'll keep playing at the bar. It takes money to get anything done. Sucks but it's true. Equipment, upkeep on that, gas, transportation, self-advertising, everything. And recording an album? Phew. Even trying to go on a local tour will be expensive. No amount of whoring ourselves out will take care of that. Not unless it got us a record deal with a company who'd cover the costs."

"Wow. Sounds like a lot to work out."

"Yeah, but it'll be worth it. We have what it takes. I can feel it in my bones. It's my calling. Can't imagine doing anything else." Perhaps some were born to do certain things. She wonders what it's like to have such conviction for a particular path in life. "If worse comes to worst, I'll get a job at the plant to save up enough to get started. Well, that and selling shit. I mean, Hawkins would be lost without me. Everyone will be a whole lot pissier than they already are."

"The town definitely wouldn't be the same if you were gone." Thinking about that gives her more mixed feelings. Still, it's great to have a dream to chase. Many people don't have that or lack the courage to try. People like her.

"What would they do with themselves if the resident freak escaped? They'll have to find a new boogeyman to get paranoid about. Besides, I doubt anyone here would miss me."

"I would," Chrissy murmurs. She can feel those dark eyes staring yet keeps her own fixed on the sky. He lets out a heavy sigh and sits up, flipping open the lid to his pail beside him on the grass. 

"You want some?" A hand shoots out in front of her view holding the joint he rolled in the van. Already lit and ready to go. Sure, why not? This will be the third time they smoked together. After taking a small hit, it gets passed back to him.

A chilly breeze goes by and she shivers, causing the smoke to slip out from between her lips in messy wisps. No pretty stream tonight. How stupid was it to not at least bring a hoodie or something? The weather was nicer earlier but it's common sense that it'll get colder at night.

"Here," Eddie shrugs the leather jacket down his arms and tosses it on her like a blanket. She goes to protest only for that to be stopped dead in its tracks as his warmth seeps into her. They're both aware any objections will be ignored. He flops onto his back along the grass, putting a bare arm behind his head. The other's busy twisting the joint between its fingers.

"Aren't you going to be cold like that?" That shirt doesn't have sleeves and his shoulders aren't entirely covered. He's going to freeze his butt off because she's a dumdum that forgot to bring extra layers. It's not fair to him.

"Me? Nah. This is nothing. At worst, it's hard nipple weather."

"That's one way to put it." Oh no. Now her face is heating up from thinking about what happened at the bar—seeing his nipples and sweaty chest. "If you get cold just take it back."

"Please, Chrissy. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not a complete asshole. I'll grab something out of the van if that happens."

He sounds offended. She didn't want him to be uncomfortable over her mistake. Still, it's very kind of him. His jacket is so warm. This does the job well. It shields everything above the middle of her thighs from the frigid air. Her hands grab the inside of the jacket and pull it closer, letting it envelop her. Along with his scent. Compared to the Hellfire Club shirt, this is bathed in it.

'Ah, I don't want to give it back anymore!'

Chrissy's white flats tap against each other as she squirms beneath it, soaking up the remaining heat he left behind. This is the second time he pushed it onto her. No one's ever offered to do that, let alone insisted. Not even Jason. Then again, his varsity jacket is one of his most prized possessions.

"You got plans for this weekend, shortcake?"

"What did you call me?!" 

"You seemed more interested in that thing than what I was saying so I needed something to grab your attention." Stretching her leg out, she nudges the side of his thigh in annoyance. That only makes him laugh at the half-hearted attempt at retribution. "Guess it worked."

"You're a punk! And actually, I do have plans." That cuts his laughter short. He rolls onto his side and takes a long hit from the joint. A hint of disappointment flashes on his face before quickly getting buried away. "My birthday is Saturday."

"Oh?" While that piques his interest, she has the opposite reaction. Chrissy groans and pulls her knees in as far under as the jacket will allow. "You don't look too thrilled about that."

Should she talk about it? Bringing up Jason usually irritates him. He might also be disappointed by how quickly she folds under the slightest pressure. The whole 'do your own thing and screw others' mentality. If there's someone who listens carefully though, it's him.

"The Carvers are planning to throw me a party. It's going to be a lot of small talk and hanging around people who barely know me. The whole song and dance gets exhausting after a while. I don't know. I'm the one who said yes though."

Eddie's quiet for a moment, his eyes focusing on the smoke pouring out into the air. "I'd say tell them to piss off but it's not that easy yet, am I right?" His voice is low, not carrying the firm tone it has when they talk about her giving in to others. He's already aware this is a work in progress. Going from people–pleasing to doing as she pleases won't happen overnight.

"Yeah, Jason wasn't too happy about Valentine's Day so I feel kind of obligated." That brings out an exaggerated eye roll and a tsk. Maybe that part could've been left out.

"What would you want to do? If you weren't going?"

"Hmm…" That's a good question. It was simple to answer as a kid but for her eighteenth birthday? Most of the people she knows like to party. That isn't exactly what she has in mind. "Not sure. I never really did what I wanted on my birthday. My parents always turned it into some little social event."

"How lame."

"I know," Chrissy says softly, thinking back on the parties they had before. He leans over to pass the joint only to stall at the last moment. She sucks in a sharp breath when his fingers reach further, the tips gently caressing the skin of her palm. It tickles yet feels good. Soothing. For a moment, she thought he might lace them together but that didn't happen. He clears his throat and pulls back, continuing as usual.

"So, what does the nobility bestow upon Your Highness on your special day? A bunch of pricey shit, right?"

"Mostly." Shame creeps over her. These are just first-world problems. It must seem so silly to him. "I mean, complaining seems ungrateful. I'd rather people didn't waste so much money getting me things I don't want or need. No one ever asks."

"You don't want the expensive crap?"

"Not really. If I want that stuff, I can get it for myself. These parties end up turning into a game of who can get the most impressive gift. It's not only me. Charlotte, Natalie, Jason, Chance, Patrick. Anyone whose parents run in similar circles."

"Sounds like a dick–measuring contest." He rubs a long finger across his chin. "Figured as much. Guess they got nothin' else better to do than blow their load showing off."

"Basically. I'd rather get smaller things I actually enjoy like books or tapes or I don't know. Stuff that has some thought put into it."

"What a little nerd." His eyes light up as she grabs a handful of grass and tosses it at him. Hopefully, some blades get stuck in that wild hair.

The section is dead quiet at this time of night. No one's around and most of the large houses are dark, except for little lawn lamps. Most folks are knocked out this late. Good. Then there's no reason for him not to do what he's been wanting to. The neighbors can screw themselves.

His gaze lands on the petite woman walking in front of him, staring at the leather jacket wrapped around her. Chrissy's still wearing it. She's so tiny and cute in that worn-out old thing. Yep. Definitely worth the chill.

They stride up the path to her house and stop on the porch. The front light isn't on this time. Without the streetlights, it'd be a lot harder to see. Good thing his sight is on point.

"Thanks for the food and everything." She blushes, fiddling with the keys in her hands and glancing down at her flats. Acting all bashful. It's adorable. Might just make him a lost cause.

"You don't need to thank me for every little thing." Eddie clicks his tongue and reaches over, doing something that surprises them both. He pinches her cheeks. Only hard enough to get the point across and move her head from side to side. They're soft, rosy, and getting warmer by the second.

"Ah!" Chrissy swats at his hand and he can't help laughing at the reaction. "Like I said, you're a punk." A hand slaps his chest lightly except she doesn't seem mad. No. If anything, it's the total opposite.

"Oh, almost forgot." She slips off his jacket and hands it back gently like it's some precious keepsake that could get broken if not handled carefully. It's not. If it gets messed up, he can fix it. That's happened countless times now. "I... guess I'll see you at school."

"Yeah." He exhales sharply. Of course they will, though neither will publicly acknowledge the other. Yet. It hasn't been that long. No point in turning her little world upside down right now. Not unless she wants to, that is.

Their eyes meet and for a few moments, there's only silence. He tightens the grip on his jacket. The seconds tick by with him trying to hold onto each one. Wanting them to slow down but they keep slipping right through his fingers. Time has never been on his side. Finally, she sucks in her lips and spins on her heel, turning away. Well, that's that. Not that he was expecting anything more like a hug or a goodnight kiss. He wouldn't turn them down either.

"Goodnight, Eddie." Standing in the entryway with the door wide open, Chrissy smiles sweetly and gives him a little wave. Mindlessly returning the sentiment, he stands at the end of the wide porch until it's closed and locked before heading back down the front path.

'What the hell.'

When he hops in the van, Eddie yanks off his bandana and runs a hand through his hair. It might be the pot but everything's scrambled right now. Especially inside. His stomach's in knots. "Fuck. Fuck. Shit." He rubs his temples agitatedly. There's too much to sort through. This is probably a big ol' waste of time. Everything points in the same direction. What do folks say? All roads lead to Rome.

The van starts up and he peels out of the driveway. It's crazy to think the unimaginable happened. Chrissy Cunningham went to The Hideout. Granted, he did invite her and hoped she'd eventually come. What a surprise.

'Chrissy did that just to see me.'

That chick is ballsier than he originally thought. Finding out how she managed to get there made him want to give her a major noogie. Walking around that area late at night with those drunks skulking the streets… Fucking wild. If something would've gone horribly wrong, he'd feel so damn guilty. Either she has tits of steel or is naïve about that kind of stuff. He's leaning somewhere in the middle.

'If I knew, I could've taken her with me. That'd ruin the surprise factor she was lookin' for. Well, can't change it now.'

Eddie takes the long way back to Forest Hills. A nice drive, smoke, and some music is a good blend to relieve tension. There aren't many cops out this late so no one can make him slow down. He already knows where the ones who lurk around at night like to hang.

Taking a sharp turn, he cruises down a dark road with a place in mind. Just something to check and confirm. The streetlights are far and few down this way. Once the old abandoned building comes into view, the van slows down and his eyes narrow on the parking lot. A full house tonight. A little pot-smoking birdie gave him an unwanted yet possibly useful tip when it was singing earlier. If this wasn't on the way home anyway, he probably wouldn't have bothered but it might come in handy later.

'Knew it. You stupid bastard.'

Chapter Text

"The bell is going to ring any minute so pass up your worksheets. Don't forget to put your name on them. I'm not playing a guess–and–check game like last time."

Ms. O'Donnell walks over to the first desk in the last row. She puts a hand on her hip while waiting as papers get shuffled from person to person, forming a pile. The older woman snatches them up and does a quick check to confirm they're all filled out. If there is one that's blank, everyone already knows who it belongs to.

"Mmm…" Chrissy stretches her arms up high and groans. After getting home so late, she didn't get much sleep. Even the little that came was awful. Another nightmare. This time it was an enormous black spider chasing her around a huge yard that only got wider the further she ran. It was outside of an old abandoned house. There was no time to take anything in because that monstrosity was scuttling right behind her every step of the way.

Sometimes it's hard to tell when they're just dreams. That sounds silly. Spiders the size of a truck don't exist. The whole thing is ridiculous. Still, it feels real at the time. It's only when she wakes up in a cold sweat that reality sets in, along with a nosebleed.

'I should go to a doctor. I'm sick of washing pillowcases. This isn't normal.'

The bell rings and everyone gets up to leave. Chrissy takes her time gathering up her things. Moving at a snail's pace. She looks around to make sure the other students are heading out of the classroom. The teacher also leaves to talk to Mr. Calhoun across the hall since there's a short break in between classes. 

'Why isn't he going?'

For the first time in her high school career, she has a legit beef with someone. The plan was to wait until they walked by to confront them but this person is doing the same thing. Dawdling. He's usually the last one in and first one out on any given day. That's if he shows up at all. So what's the big deal?

There are only two people left in the room now. Grabbing her bookbag, she slings it over her shoulders and starts walking. Slowly. Attempting to see what he's doing without making it too obvious. She doesn't even reach the door before he's on her heels.

They give each other a small smile when she glances up at him. He's got his denim vest back on and another band tee that has Megadeth on it with a weird skull. "I have a bone to pick with you."

Eddie raises a brow yet doesn't seem surprised. "Oh really?"

"Yeah, I found fifteen dollars in my purse that wasn't there when I left."

"Huh. Very curious." He grazes his fingers along his jaw and leans against the door frame. That makes her want to smack his chest again. Noticing the look she's giving him, his eyes widen in faux bewilderment. "What? Are you blaming me? "

"Eddie…" That money was supposed to stay with him. Hasn't he already done more than enough? This makes her feel worse. It's the only thing of value she can offer him in return.

He pushes off the frame and takes a step closer, staring down at her. His face is more controlled, lacking the playfulness from a moment ago. "Look, princess. Who do you think I am? I take money. Not give it away." This would've startled her a couple of weeks ago. Back when he was intimidating and they weren't friends. 

"Stop messing with me." 

Cracks form in the mask as a crooked grin pokes out. "Okay, okay. You got me. But if I remember correctly, I said, 'I'll take this for now but it's coming back around. Mark my words,' or something like that. So guess what? It came back around and I kept my word. Besides, it's not my fault you don't pay attention to your purse. Took me two seconds to slip it in there at the diner."

'"Hmph! Maybe I wasn't paying attention to it because I trusted the company I was with and didn't think I had to keep an eye on my stuff."

Eddie cranes his neck back and makes a strange face. There was nothing that gave her the impression he'd try anything. Not even the first time they hung out. He offered a discount on the weed when it would've been so easy to rip her off. She didn't know any better. If this guy—who's undoubtedly pretty tricky—wanted to, he could take all kinds of things and she'd be none the wiser.

Looking away, he lets out a sharp exhale as his expression softens. "Well… okay…" 

"It's just that you already smoked with me a few times and paid for my food last night. You've driven me around without getting any gas money. Your uncle also bought me breakfast. Now this? I don't know. I feel bad." Chrissy scans the doorway to make sure no one's watching. And to avoid his gaze. 

"Chrissy, chill." A hand reaches out to clasp her chin, drawing her eyes and focus back to him. "Relationships aren't supposed to be transactional. I mean, they can be but only if that's already understood. This isn't. Keeping tabs on who does what isn't a good way of lookin' at things."

"If one side's always giving and the other is constantly taking, then there's no balance." She whispers, stopping herself from pulling away. It's been weighing on her mind recently. 

Leaning down so they're nose to nose, his dark eyes narrow on her. "You're so lucky we're in school right now or I'd pinch those cheeks again." Too close. He's way too close. "You're not constantly taking but if it bothers you so much, then give me your time and a piece of your mind. That should bring balance to the force." Seeing the confusion on her face, he chuckles and shakes his head, backing off.

Eddie gives one last cocky smirk and slips out of the room, leaving her dumbfounded. Maybe it was because he was only inches away but her brain stalled out for a moment. Still no good. Gripping the strap of her bookbag, she tries to shake it off and go out into the hall.

'What does that mean?'

Chrissy moves between the groups of people without paying them any mind. Is he saying that she should hang out with him more and... open up? Also throwing in some nerd reference at the end. What is it from? Star Trek? Star Wars? One of them.

'So he doesn't want money but my time and mind?'

Her face turns a bright shade of red as she reaches Mr. Girard's room.

Everyone's talking up a storm at the lunch. Mostly about the away game after school today. The Tigers versus a team they've always lost to in the past. Their section is a sea of white, green, and orange from all the uniforms.

"They don't have a chance!" Jason slams his fist on the table hard enough to make her jump. He's all stirred up, no thanks to the others getting him going. She sighs and pokes at the food on her tray with a plastic fork. There's no point saying anything. With the team so hyped, it's impossible to get a word in.

Charlotte wasn't too happy about not getting a call last night and let it be known in the lunch line. An honest mistake. It totally slipped her mind. The only excuse she could offer was that it was too late by then and didn't want to wake anyone up by calling. That earned her a 'bad girl' and a slap on the wrist before they both laughed it off.

'I even said I had to crawl up the tree outside to avoid getting caught. I'm so tired of lying.'

"Our biggest issue is their new point guard. I asked around and heard he's a real bruiser on the court."

"What happened to Corey?"

"He graduated last year. Some transfer kid took his spot."

"Hey, Chris. What's up with you and the freak?"

Chrissy stops nibbling on a piece of steamed broccoli and freezes. Uh-oh. Slowly, she looks up and across the table to the person who asked. Andy. Jason's close friend and another member of the basketball team.

'Shit!'

Panic sets in as anyone in hearing range quiets down and shifts their attention to them. All eyes are on her now. This is bad. A million thoughts race around, bouncing off the walls of her mind. What exactly did he see and how did it appear to him? It could've been at the end of second period or last night. Why did he wait until lunch to say anything? No doubt to cause a blow-up in front of an audience. All the players involved are in one place. 

"What are you talking about?" That really threw Jason off. One moment they're excitedly talking about basketball and now this.

Hearing the way he sounds makes her feel terrible. She doesn't dare look at him out of fear of exposing something that should stay hidden. If there's a guilty expression on her, he might take it the wrong way. It's not like she's cheating… right? Does it count? They haven't done anything except hang out.

"I saw Chris and Munster talking while coming out of O'Donnell's. They seemed pretty chummy."

'Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!'

The blood drains from her face as she stares down at the table. Oohs and gasps come from some of the people sitting with them. Jason goes completely rigid. She can hear his teeth grinding together from how close they're sitting. The muscles along his jaw tighten, giving away what his words won't.

Chrissy's worried. Sure, he's gotten angry before. That's usually on the court when someone messes with his teammates. Being outraged and enraged are not the same. How would he react in a scenario like this? It's hard to resist looking over at the Hellfire table. He's there. She knows he is. Eddie purposefully bumped into her on the way to the cafeteria. Seeing him will make her feel better again.

"What's he talking about, Chris?" Everyone's focus is on them while Jason's eyes burn a hole through her. This needs to be fixed. Immediately. Something has to come out to put them at ease. She can do this. Spending time with Eddie made her too carefree. Reality and consequences were always sitting there, patiently waiting to smash the rose-colored glasses she put on.

"Oh, um… Yeah, I dozed off in class and he woke me up on the way out. I was just thanking him before I didn't get the chance." It could've been better but that's what came to mind. Lunch is going straight in the trash. There's no way she can eat another bite. Her stomach is in knots and she feels sick.

"Bet he was trying to steal something from your bag and woke you up by accident." A snicker comes from down the table. They don't deserve a single glance. All they'll receive is a glare.

"Or the freak was going for a free feel while you were out of it." Andy sneers and she wants to punch him in the nose. He's only saying that to rile Jason up even more. It's working if the small tremors running through his body are anything to go by.

"Wouldn't surprise me. That dude's a creep. You're too nice for your own good, Chris. Some people will take advantage of that."

"Has he done that before?"

"Probably. I don't put anything past him."

Chrissy wants to cover her ears and block out all the noise. The voices jeering and laughing, saying horrible things about someone she cares about. It's nothing new but it's different this time. Unlike the annoyed comments they'd make when he would act up to get everyone's attention, this is a flood of insults that were brought on thanks to her recklessness. This is her fault. All because she couldn't wait to see him. 

"Stay away from that guy, babe. He's nothing but trouble and I don't want him doing something to you." A hand touches her bouncing knee under the table and it takes every ounce of willpower not to smack it away. 

"Jason's right." Her eyes widen at hearing Amber's voice. She keeps them trained on her tray, not trusting them to keep it together if they land on anyone's face. "Also, being seen with him is social suicide. You're the head cheerleader. If you look bad, it messes with the rest of us. There's a trickle-down effect."

Wrapping her arms around herself, she leans into the edge of the table, trying to calm her breathing. It's like getting hit from all sides. Amber has to chime in with her unsolicited opinion too. What is this sinking sensation in her gut? Betrayal? None of them understand though. No. She was scared of Eddie before, yet never spoke about him that way. This isn't the same.

"You're all being so dramatic. It's not that big of a deal." Natalie says, eyeing Amber. "Chris talking to him wouldn't do anything to the rest of us. Stop kissing Jason's ass."

"You gotta real one there. I know I'd want her in my corner if shit hit the fan."

If Chrissy wasn't glued to the seat, she'd run over to hug her friend right now. It doesn't even matter if it's only to be contrarian. She's grateful someone disagrees with what's going on.

'I wish I had her guts. I'm sorry, Eddie. You deserve so much better. I hope you can't hear any of this.'

"I'm just saying how it is. Everyone knows what that weirdo's like. No one needs rumors going around with regionals coming up either. We should be focusing on that." Amber shoots back, staring daggers at her fellow junior. What's with her? Why is she being so confrontational?

"I don't want to hear that from you."

"Guys, chill the hell out." Charlotte throws her burger down onto the tray with a huff. "You're ruining my lunch." The guy sitting next to her turns in his seat to rub her back, trying to calm his girlfriend down. The one party kid that always sits with the cheerleaders.

This is ridiculous. What does it matter who she talks to or why? They're making Eddie out to be a monster. None of them know him like that. Her mind goes back to The Hideout when she was called a demon girl. He got angry. Right now, she's angry too. The difference is one of them actually did something about it. 

"Dunno but I wouldn't be happy if that scumbag was around my girl," Andy says through a mouth full of food.

"I'm not." Clenching his fist, Jason's eyes narrow on his friend. She knows that look. Those two are bad influences on each other. "I'm going to say something to that prick." He stands up and glares across the cafeteria.

"What?! No!" Chrissy latches onto his arm and everyone at the table is startled by the outburst. This is wrong. She was the one who kept reaching out. Why should he deal with the consequences of her selfish, needy behavior?

"Me, Patrick, and Lucas got your back if you want to go to the freak table." The big mouth adds in to fuel the fire. Patrick has been quiet this entire time and looks taken off guard hearing his name included in the mix.

"What do you mean, 'no'?" He glances down at the hands tugging on the sleeve of his varsity jacket and purses his lips, annoyed.

The fact that Jason hasn't pulled away to march over there means he's still on the fence. This might be salvageable. Sticking out her bottom lip, she gazes up at him in hopes that they can finish lunch peacefully. "You guys are acting like jerks." If pouting stops him, by God she'll do it. "He was being nice to me. That's all. And I thanked him for—"

"You're not getting it," He's irritated but the display took it down a notch. "I can't stand that freak's guts. Why would I want him talking to my girlfriend? Or ruining your reputation? Do you really think that trailer trash was 'being nice'? You don't understand guys, especially that kind. There's always an ulterior motive. He was trying to get something like Andy was saying. Probably so this would go around and eventually reach me. He loves nothing more than getting under my skin."

'I do get it and everything's not about you. I doubt you want to go over there. You don't want to look weak in front of the team.'

"I think my reputation takes a bigger hit if my boyfriend goes around threatening other guys over nothing. People will avoid me if they think you're going to flip your lid like that. It makes you look insecure." His jaw drops at that. "Besides, there's a big game tonight. If you get into a fight, it might ruin that. Then what happens to regionals? Is it worth it?" Chrissy's heart is racing a mile per second and her limbs are trembling. It's difficult to hide it. Maybe everyone already notices. This is the most she's ever talked back to Jason and it's in front of others.

"She's right." A large hand ruffles the top of her ponytail. Hearing the familiar sing-song voice from behind, she peers up to see Joey standing above her. Natalie's cousin and proclaimed 'King of the Party Kids'. Her eyes hurt from looking at him. That feathered light brown hair with yellow-rimmed sunglasses on top, a lime green shirt, and acid wash jeans. A real visual assault. Still, he shouldn't be here. His lunch period is after this. Another person who does whatever he wants.

"Look at this face." The human tower leans down and squishes her cheeks together for emphasis. "She's all upset, you animals. Get it together." Jason scowls yet says nothing as the older guy lets go, moving over to sit his butt right on the edge of the lunch table. "And I wouldn't do that if I were you." He reaches over to pluck a fry off Andy's tray.

"Why not?"

"You see those guys over there." Joey points towards the 'freak' table, talking with the fry in his mouth. Along with the others, Chrissy's eyes dart across the cafeteria to look. The Hellfire crew are goofing around and eating. Nothing out of the ordinary. Eddie's sitting back in his seat while picking at a snack bag. "Yeah, they don't give a shit about anything outside of their hobbies. Those dudes got nothin' to lose and are used to dealing with crap from people. It won't be the clean one-on-one gentleman's fight you're looking for. You hit one of them, don't be surprised when another bashes your head in with a lunch tray."

"That's cowardly." This time it is Chance who responds. He hasn't said too much so far but she knows his voice was in with the others at some point.

"You're cute." The super senior snorts, shaking his head. "Here's the thing, boys and girls… In the real world when shit gets serious, anything goes. All bets are off. If you want to go over there and start something, go ahead. Be my guest. Just know that some of you might get hurt and have to pull out of the game tonight."

"Ew. Shut up, you're not even supposed to be here." Natalie chucks a handful of fries at him. He catches some while the rest fall to the floor.

Jason and Andy toss side glances at each other. They know he's right. Is starting stuff with a 'satanic cult' over a tiny infraction worth throwing away all the hard work they put in if it goes wrong? Something small like slipping on the way over there can mess up an ankle and take one of them out of the game.

'Thank God! I think that stopped them.'

The van makes a sharp turn off the street and tears into the parking lot. Leaving a fresh set of skid marks next to the old ones. It abruptly stops right in front of the brick building. The loud music inside is turned down as its owner flicks a roach out the window, letting the smoke billow out with it.

"Okay?" Eddie pats himself down while trying to remember what he did with the damn thing. Oh yeah. Yanking open the glove box, a hand fishes around for what he's looking for. There it is. He pulls out a hefty envelope and tucks it into the inside pocket of his jacket.

This is the second time coming to the bar today. First, balls early in the morning to pick up, and now, to drop something off. Doing a delivery right after school sucks but at least he's a fast driver. Gets stuff done a lot quicker. 

'The shit I do for money.'

This shouldn't take long. It'll be one more thing to scratch off the to-do list. The front door is open and he lets himself in, whistling a tune as he looks around the place. They're not open for regular business yet. All the lights are off during the daytime. It doesn't come alive until nightfall. 

Huh. Empty. At least one person is usually sitting by the bar. His ears perk up from hearing muffled voices. They must be in the back. He hops over the counter since Donna's not around to yell at him and heads in there. 

The back is even dimmer without any windows for the light to shine through. Eddie creeps down the hall, listening intently to figure out where the noise is coming from. There are a bunch of smaller rooms on this side of the building. Yelling would make it easier except the last time he did that, the owner whacked him with a rolled-up magazine for startling her. Then again, popping up out of nowhere might cause the same reaction. 

'There they are.'

Two people are in one of the rooms with the door slightly ajar. He can hear them clearly now. The big boss lady and that asshole, Jax. His brow furrows from the tone. It doesn't sound right.

"I don't know what to do anymore, Donna. I'm losin' my goddamn mind! It's getting harder to tell what's real anymore. Maybe… Maybe… Shit!"

That's enough to stop him in his tracks. Is Jax having a breakdown? He knew the guy was in a rough spot again, just not all the specifics. Addiction was a given. That's been a struggle for some time now. Still, he's never heard him like this before. 

"Hey, listen to me. Take a deep breath. Look, we'll try to figure this out. Okay?"

"You don't understand! It's getting worse. Worse, worse, worse! I'm living in hell and the devil's playin' around with me like I'm his little bitch!"

'What the fuck is going on?!'

"Psst!" Glancing up, Dom is at the end of the hall and motions for him to follow. He does, albeit a bit apprehensively. They go further down until reaching the storage room. The older man closes the door behind them then sighs deeply. "My bad, dude. Didn't think you'd be here until later. Should've known better with the way you drive. So, I take it everything's good?" The guy looks completely spent as he pulls up a chair. Does it have to do with what's going on in the other room?

Eddie stares at him blankly for a second. "Uh, yeah. Wouldn't be here if it wasn't." Pulling out the large envelope, he hands it over and the contents are spilled out on a table. Money. A lot of it. Dom licks his fingers and starts counting the bills while putting them into neat piles.

Part of him wants to ask about Jax but it's none of his business. He just leaves it hanging in the air, silently watching the money being sorted. It's all there. There was no way he was leaving without making sure first. 

"It's on point." Turning in his seat, Dom holds out a wad of cash for him. "I'm glad to have someone reliable 'round here." He shakes his head and stuffs the other piles back into the envelope, satisfied with the results.

"No problem. Nothing I can't handle."

"Oh, and—" A brow arches when a few more bills are thrust toward him. "You didn't hear nothin' back there, right?"

Looking from Dom to the money, he doesn't hesitate to snatch it up. "Don't know what you're talkin' about."

"Good man. Take it easy." They clasp hands and pat each other on the back before he hightails it out of there. The voices in the hall already died down when the storage room door opened. Maybe they heard him and Dom? It doesn't matter. This might be the fastest he's ever tried to leave The Hideout in all his years of coming here.

The sun is too bright when he steps out of the building. Once he hops in the van and gets it going, the music is turned up as loud as it will go. What the hell was that about? Pulling out onto Prospect, his fingers tap against the steering wheel as the scene replays in his mind.

Eddie didn't like any of that. There was no need to buy his silence either. He's not the kind of guy who can see a person suffering and use that as ammo against them. That's low. But he really needs the money so no way was he turning it down based on principle or some stupid shit. If they want to hand over cash, then so be it.

It's a shame. Jax was pretty chill back in the day. He used to tell wild stories about the supernatural and creepy things he's seen. Stuff an edgy brat would eat up. That changed when he got hooked and started drinking like a fish. His band suffered because he'd show up late, not at all, or would be a total mess on stage. Corroded Coffin got their slot at eight on Tuesday nights and it's gone downhill since then.

The guy's been worse than ever this last month. It's like he's begging for someone to lay him out. Eddie already realized something was wrong a while ago and tries to ignore the bait. If it can be avoided, he'd rather not throw fists. The whole point of going to the bar is to relax and have a good time.

"I think… I think I'm really losing my mind. I don't understand what's happening to me."

Chrissy said that in the hallway at school. Those two sounded similar. Hearing that type of fear in a person's voice isn't very common. They were both terrified and confused, neither understanding what was going on. That guy could be on a bad bender… There's no good explanation for her though.

'This bothers me. I don't like it. Not one bit.'

"As my girlfriend, you should have my back. That made me look bad. Joey didn't help either."

"I'm sorry but if I did, you were going to do something you might regret later. I was trying to think ahead. You'd be so mad if anyone had to pull out of the game because they got hurt." Chrissy frowns, squeezing the pompoms in her fists. "And for what?"

Choosing right before an important game to pull her into the corner of another school's gymnasium to talk about this isn't the best idea. Not now. People are already filling the bleachers. He should be making sure his teammates are ready and raring to go. This apparently couldn't wait until afterward. It must be bothering him. 

"This isn't how it's supposed to go." Putting his hands on his hips, he looks out at the court and blows out a breath. "Fine. You're right. It's not worth it. The team comes first. Is that better?"

'It's a step in the right direction.'

"Jason Carver!" They both look over to see an older man walking up to them. Mr. Walker. He's friends with their dads—mostly Jason's—and goes to the same church. His wife also works at this school.

"Mr. Walker." Chrissy purses her lips as the two men shake hands, and stays behind when they take a few steps away to chat. That's okay with her. It's a chance to skip unwanted small talk.

"Looking forward to seeing the game, son. I know I'm supposed to be cheering for the other side but you know." He lowers his voice and laughs, giving the team captain a little nudge. "Chrissy. Nice to see you." She smiles politely and it drops when he quickly turns back to Jason. It's nothing unusual, especially with senior guys at the church. They make her feel like an afterthought. "When are you two lovebirds finally getting married? After graduation, I assume?"

The grip on her pompoms tightens. Everyone from their church is like this. That question came around before they officially started going out. It was always assumed they would. The congregation is weird about abstinence. Sex before marriage means a first-class ticket to hell so the best way to avoid that is to either not do it or go through with the ceremony. Knowing that most teens don't want to wait that long, they push for couples to get hitched at a young age since it's 'the right thing to do'. 

She's heard that her entire life. Have sex and spend eternity being punished by God for committing such a terrible sin. Most of her friends heard the same stuff. Plenty of them have done it, some with a few different people by now, and they're fine. It doesn't seem like God is tormenting them. The thought still terrified her for years. That is, until sophomore year when a trap door didn't open up beneath Charlotte and send her straight to the fiery pits when she gushed about her first time.

"We're both going to IU Bloomington in the fall so sometime during that.

Chrissy zones out as the buzzing from the lights on the ceiling gets louder. Married in college? When? Freshman year or senior? There's a four-year gap between those. That's not much time. What's the plan? Maybe it's something to quiet down the church people for now.

"Chris? Chris?" Jason snaps his fingers, trying to get her attention when she realizes Mr. Walker is leaving. "We have to go." The game is about to start. "Give me a good luck kiss and let's pray we win this."

They kiss and he hugs her tightly before jogging off to join back up with the others. She walks across the gym floor to where the cheer team gathered along the sidelines. On the opposite side is the home team in their blue and white uniforms. 

Scenes flash in Chrissy's mind. A traditional wedding in the church with most of the town in attendance. Quitting her job after getting pregnant with Jason saying not to worry. It's all part of God's plan. Being a housewife and stay-at-home mom running after blonde-haired, blue-eyed rambunctious kids. Completely exhausted and getting little to no help since it's her 'duty'.

The next one is of an older version of herself sitting on the couch, having another glass of boxed wine while reading a romance novel and glancing at the clock for the millionth time. He's late coming home from work again. Ever since that assistant half her age started working there. The woman is young and has a nice figure. People are going to say it's her fault for not giving him what he needs.

'Stop! The TV is giving me strange ideas. No more soaps.'

All the images are causing Chrissy's stomach to churn. Will that be her future? Just like some of the women in their congregation. Is that what she wants? That's what the plan ultimately leads to, right? No. She's being silly and cooking up ridiculous scenarios. The two of them are different. They won't turn out like that. It'll be a nice life. A stable one. A happy one. Everything will be fine.

So, why does the air feel so thin right now? 

A referee steps onto the court. That brings her back to the present. She takes a deep breath and tries to push away the existential panic. Now is not the time. Both cheer teams get in position along the sidelines, not needing to be told what to do. The routines at games aren't as complicated as the ones at pep rallies.

The Tigers run out with Jason leading them. They shout together to keep themselves pumped up. He stops in front of the cheerleaders and makes a show of kissing Chrissy's hand in front of everyone. The crowd cheers as expected. Then he runs into the middle of the floor with the others.

"Glad to see you two aren't upset after earlier." Charlotte leans in to whisper from her right side.

"Mm," Chrissy replies half-heartedly. They didn't exactly make up. That's not how it usually works. They do so many events together during basketball season that if they get into a small tiff or anything, they play it off in front of others and let it go. Neither will bring it up again as if never happened in the first place.

She stares at Jason while he grins and waves at the large group from Hawkins who showed up for the game. 'The Golden Boy'. There's some truth to that. Plenty of people in town love him. It's not hard to see why. Her gaze focuses on his perfectly styled hair. That handsome face. Those obnoxiously straight white teeth. His clear skin. Blue eyes. His strong shoulders and arms. The ones that have been wrapped around her plenty of times. 

Jason Carver is the ideal guy. They're the perfect couple. Everything is going to be great. Everything is great.

So, why does she feel like crying?

A lump forms in Chrissy's throat. The longer she watches him, the heavier the weight in her chest is becoming. He turns and when their eyes meet, he shoots her a brilliant smile and winks. The Hawkins crowd enjoys that. It knocks the air out of her. She wishes there was time to run outside and take a breather. There isn't. The game is about to begin. 

A louder chorus of cheers follows the other team when they jog out to the court. That's expected at a rival school. Jason and their captain meet in the center as the referee throws the ball in the air. The home team gets to start on offense.

The cheerleaders shake their pompoms and cheer for their side. 

"B–E–A–T beat 'em! B–U–S–T bust 'em! Beat 'em, bust 'em, that's our custom! Gooo TIGERS!"

Chrissy's face lights up in the center of the routine as the squad claps and celebrates their team getting the ball back. She enjoys doing this. Entertaining the crowd is fun too. It's easier to let everything else fade into the background. All that matters is focusing on her movements while putting on a good show.

"F–I–G–H–T! Fight! Fight! Tigers fight!"

The trailer door swings open and Eddie walks in with his arms full. A sneaker moves back to kick it closed. Sighing, he drags himself through the small living room and heads straight to the bedroom. At least that's open. His past self's laziness is coming in handy for once.

Striding over to the bed, the bags and pail are dropped onto his blanket. This took longer than expected. Should've guessed it would. Nothing can be easy, huh? He throws his jacket over the back of the chair and leaves his shoes in the middle of the floor. Unfortunately, there's still a lot more to do.

'No rest for the wicked.'

He goes into the drawers and grabs a few tins. Plopping down on the chair, they're opened and the money hidden inside is pulled out. It's not a lot. Still, it's what he worked for. The cash is separated in an attempt to budget for various things. One is for gas. Another for band-related shit. Or emergencies and bills. His uncle usually refuses to accept any but it's better to have it if something happens.

'Goddammit.'

This month isn't looking so hot. All the splurging lately didn't help. Maybe those extra albums weren't such a great idea. The cash from Dom will even things out. The point was to save up, not scrape by. Oh well. He'll have to really hustle to make up for it.

The phone rings and his brow furrows. If it's someone else trying to sell them the Guide again, he's gonna flip. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Hold the hell on." He gets to his feet, grumbling on the way back to the kitchen. Why do people wait until someone's busy to bother them?

Eddie takes his sweet ass time and smacks his lips before snatching up the receiver. "City morgue. You stab 'em, we slab 'em. How can I help you?"

"Eddie?"

'Shit!'

Pulling the phone away, he cringes and pinches the bridge of his nose. Of fucking course it's her when he answers like an asshole. "H–Hey, Chrissy. Can you, uh, hold on for a quick sec?"

"Yeah."

Every curse known to man flies through his mind as he puts the phone down and dashes back into the bedroom. What luck. What friggin' luck. Grabbing his pack, ashtray, and lighter, he rushes back and hops onto the small table, trying not to knock over the mugs hanging up.

"You still there?" His eyes shift back and forth, listening intently when he scoops up the phone. If Chrissy hangs up, that's that. She has his number. Not the other way around. The best he could do at the moment is find a phonebook somewhere.

"Ah–huh. Sorry, I know it's late and this might be—"

"No, no. It's not a big deal. Besides, I just got back so it's all good." Nope. Not going there. She's gonna make herself feel bad over nothing. The whole point of giving her this number is so she would call. 

"That's a relief. I didn't want to wake anyone up."

'Too sweet. I wouldn't have given two–shits.'

"Nah, it's not that late. My uncle works the nights anyway. And I might be old but not that old. You won't catch me knocked out that early." He grins hearing her laugh on the other side. "So what's up, princess? Having a hard time going to sleep? Or are you bored?"

Eddie can't figure out why she finally called. It doesn't sound like she's upset or had something bad happen like before. Does she need a favor? Or is this just to talk? He nibbles on the inside of his cheek at the thought. Chrissy has plenty of other people she can ring. Is he the chosen one? Unless they're too busy. Surely her ultra-amazing boyfriend wouldn't mind staying up late on the phone.

'Useless sack of shit.'

"Maybe a mix of both? I was watching TV and that show you like was on so…" She trails off, sounding a little nervous.

"C'mon, Chrissy. Just admit it. You missed me and wanted to talk. It's okay. I don't blame you." He knows he's probably smugger than someone like him should be. Whatever. Nothing good happens to those who don't at least try.

"What?! That's not it! You're so full of yourself." The little huff from the other end is so funny. She's flustered. Must've hit the nail right on the head.

"No? Ouch. My mistake. I guess I am full of myself for thinking that."

"Well... It might be true. A tiny bit."

"Oh really? Careful now. If my head gets any bigger, I might be stuck in this trailer." Chrissy giggles and he wants to capture the sound. Putting a foot up on the counter, he twirls the phone cord around his fingers. "You might need to knock me down a few pegs. Got too much shit to do and can't afford that."

"Does that mean you're busy? Am I interrupting something?"

Eddie pulls the phone away and lets his head fall back. Oh, that sweet summer child. "No, don't worry about that. You're good. I can fit you into my hectic schedule." The last thing he wants right now is for her to get off. Chrissy will skedaddle if she thinks she's being a bother. "Why don't you, uh... tell me about your day? How was it?"

'Idiot!'

Isn't there anything better to come up with than that? Christ. If he could facepalm any harder, he'd go right through the side of the trailer. Maybe a punch will set him straight. That couldn't be any lamer. She should hang up on him and cut off all contact.

"You want to hear about my day? Really?" How surprised she sounds takes him off guard. So does the excitement he picks up on. Is she not used to getting asked that? The grin on his face fades. Wayne asks him that all the time and he hasn't thought anything about it in years. 

"Yeah, sure. Why not?" Eddie assumed she'd think it was lame that he even asked. Guess not. This is good. He just wants to keep listening to her voice. 

"Okay." Chrissy is all upbeat now. He can almost hear her smiling on the other line. She's probably swinging her legs around too. "After school today, we had an away game at—"

"Alright. Goodnight, princess."

Hanging up the phone, Eddie sits back and slowly exhales. His face is hot. He reaches up to frantically scratch his head, further messing up his already disheveled hair. No harm, no foul. He glances over at the clock and is stunned to see the time. They were talking for over an hour and a half. It didn't even feel like it. They only got off because she kept falling asleep on him.

'Man, Chrissy sounds really cute when she's tired.'

That was unexpected. She did call just to shoot the shit. Sliding off the table, he stretches his arms and legs out. One thing he's never been a fan of is sitting on the phone for more than five minutes. His little sheep all know that and keep it short if they have to get a hold of him. This might've changed his mind. As long as it's her on the other end, a sore ass and stiff muscles are nothing.

They both talked about their day with him omitting a few details. After asking if she ate, it got turned back around on him. Hoo boy. Chrissy was shocked to learn what he and his uncle typically eat. Lots of PB&J sandwiches, pizza rolls, hot dogs, boxed mac n' cheese, TV dinners, and the occasional takeout from a local place if they're feeling fancy. What can he say? They live on a budget and Wayne is gone during the night so both are mostly left to fend for themselves. Doesn't help that they're two hopeless guys who can't cook for shit.

'She offered to make dinner for us. What a sweetheart.'

Chrissy is too good for this world. This chick has issues with food yet still wants to cook for them after hearing how bad their diets are.

He trudges back to the bedroom while going over some of the things she said. The Tigers won the game tonight. The basketball team doesn't matter but she's the head cheerleader. It's the only reason he would give a damn. That means her reign as captain lasts longer. Then they talked about other stuff like how his headbanging scares her and he explained in great length that it won't break his neck. If it did, he would've taken himself out at least five years ago. What a worrywart.

Flopping down on the mattress, Eddie drapes an arm over his face and groans. He likes Chrissy… a lot. Nursing a small crush from a distance is one thing. Getting to know that person and spending time with them is another. Still, he's not sure if life is being sweet or cruel to him just yet.

'Dumbass doesn't know how good he's got it.'

Carver is not a smart dude. Isn't slick either, that's for sure. Do those two even hang out? Hardly seems like it. Has he realized she's been going through some shit the last few weeks? Or is he too caught up in jock crap and partying it up late into the night at ol' Benny's to notice anything?

Imagine having a girl and being that oblivious. He could never.

That's okay. If Captain Toolbox is too busy with the douche squad and other cheerleaders to pay attention to his girlfriend, then Eddie can fill that spot. Chrissy will be in better hands that way. Carver is very clearly not up to the task. Whether it's as a friend or something else, he can be what she needs.

Chrissy stares into the vanity and gently runs a comb through her hair. It's getting long now. The last time it was cut was when she went to the salon with her mom. Letting it grow too much was a no-no because she'll start looking like one of those 'hippies'.

'I like it long.'

Today's the big day. Her eighteenth birthday. She's finally a legal adult who can make decisions without needing permission. This was the year she's been waiting for. It's the reason she bought the '86 necklace a while back as a reminder that freedom was right around the corner. A lot has changed since then.

The comb is set down on the table and she picks up a white headband. The cloth is wrapped under her hair and brought up along the sides to the top where she ties the ends into bunny ears. A small bow on the gift that should matter most to her. This was supposed to be the day when everything that was withheld over the years was finally returned. Yet here she is, sitting in an empty house while getting ready for something she doesn't even want to do.

'Nothing's different. Mom's gone and Dad's doing God knows what.'

Chrissy gets up and takes a few steps back, trying to get a good look at herself in the vanity. This outfit is okay. Bright enough. The pastel pink dress is tighter up top until it reaches her hips then it's pleated. These elbow–length sleeves are fine too. She twirls the bottom of the skirt and does a spin in the mirror. It puts a smile on her face.

'I hope this isn't too much.'

The eyeshadow she wears for cheerleading is usually a shade of blue. This time it's a shimmery nude one that Charlotte gave her before. There aren't many colors that would go well with this dress and her eyes on hand. Then she added a little eyeliner and mascara but no lip gloss. Jason doesn't like it getting on him.

Doing a few poses in the vanity, Chrissy chuckles and covers her face shyly. For once, she actually feels pretty. It's kind of embarrassing. Maybe turning eighteen did make a difference. 

She runs down the mental list of things that need to be done as she pads across the carpet and opens the door to the walk-in closet. A pair of white ballet flats are separate from the rest, ready for this occasion. They match best with the rest of her outfit.

A shower and breakfast are taken care of. Just some toast since there's no telling what Mrs. Carver has planned. She took her vitamins and pill this morning, as usual. After missing a day two weeks ago, it's become a priority not to forget. A dirty little family secret since freshman year. One her mom pushed for that seems more like a blessing now that she's older. If anything happens, knowing it's there gives some extra security.

'That's about it. I think everything's done.'

All she needs now is some enthusiasm. Looking at the clock on the nightstand, it's almost time. She grabs her purse and slips on the flats on the way out of the bedroom. There's a knock on the door before reaching the bottom of the stairs. He's a few minutes early.

Opening the front door, Chrissy makes her lips pull back into a smile at the person standing on the other side. Jason's in a nice button-down shirt and trousers. Dressed to impress company.

"Happy Birthday, babe." His gaze runs along her body. He seems to like what he sees. A lot. They kiss and hug before heading to the Jeep. She takes the walkway to avoid getting anything on her flats for now. 

Hopping into the passenger side, she lets out a deep breath as her boyfriend gets in. There's undoubtedly going to be a bunch of people there. Probably more than she's equipped to deal with at the moment. Not much can be done about it now. 

"Your dad really couldn't reschedule for your birthday? My parents were expecting him to come."

"Sorry. He said there's too much to catch up on after being sick." Chrissy shrugs, trying to ignore the guilt bubbling up inside. Lies on top of lies. Eventually, they'll all come tumbling down on her. 'When' is the real question.

"What a workaholic." With that, the Jeep takes off down Roseline. 

"Thank you! This is wonderful!" Moving the tissue paper aside, a handbag is pulled out of the box and held up for everyone to see. A black designer bag. It must've cost a pretty penny.

"You're welcome, dear." Mrs. Carver smiles widely, pleased with the reactions her gift is getting. She touches the bottom of her short blonde perm then smoothes out the skirt of her dress. "Only the best for our future daughter-in-law."

Chrissy shifts uncomfortably on the plush cushioned seat while taking in all the faces around the large parlor. The cheer and basketball teams are here. No one else she liked from school was invited. Lots of adults were. Mostly mutual friends of the Carvers and her dad's. Countless times they've asked about him. That's understandable. Why wouldn't a dad be at his own daughter's party? It makes her sad. This is the first birthday she's had with both parents not around.

The Carver's home is huge. Much more than her family's. The parlor is no exception. Jason's mom adores the vintage look and anything that appears classy. The spacious room has cream-colored walls and large windows. Around them are tawny drapes that have gold designs throughout them with tassels of the same material. Their shiny hardwood floor has an expensive rug in the center of it.

'She has fancier tastes than my mom.'

A sparkling chandelier hangs from the ceiling that can't be missed by anyone who enters. Along the walls are lavish chairs and sofas all in the same style so everything matches. Just a few feet away from her is a long, heavy wooden table that was once filled with wrapped presents and decorations. 

Despite being in a lovely home surrounded by people celebrating her birthday, Chrissy is exhausted. It's been hours of walking and standing around the large property. First, they had drinks and hors d'oeuvres on the patio. The endless questions... Where is her dad? Why isn't he here? How does she feel about being eighteen now? What is she planning on doing after graduation? She might've gone mad if the cheer team wasn't here.

Jason's getting similar treatment but looks to be handling it a lot better. When are they going to college? Are they getting engaged? Will he make an honest woman out of her? When's the wedding? Are they invited? Or comments about how cute their kids will be. Those really freak her out. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours since she was seventeen. The last thing she wants to think about is children.

Then the large group was eventually ushered into the parlor for the main event. Where they are now. Opening up all the presents before the cake is brought out.

Chrissy internally sighs, trying to keep control of her expression with everyone watching. After a while, it wears a person down. She doesn't have the same levels of endurance as before. It used to be easier. Keeping a smile for hours on end and bouncing around with so much vigor, showing people how happy and excited she was about everything. All while being exceedingly polite and brushing off any inappropriate comments from adults. Her younger self had a resilience she does and doesn't envy.

"Last one." Jason moves closer and gently places a small present in her hands. She eyes it curiously. This wasn't on the table with the others. He has a pleased smirk while looking from her to the gift. All the focused on them again, this time with renewed interest. Her insides twist with anxiety as she stares at the little wrapped gift. It only worsens from seeing the excitement on his face. 

'God, please don't be that.'

If it is, she might die on the spot. He wouldn't do that, right? Everyone's been bugging them about it. There's no doubt he'd want an audience for an occasion like that. What would she say? There are so many people watching. Rejecting him in front of anyone who 'matters' in town would be so mortifying. Could she say yes now then turn him down later and give him a piece of her mind?

"You're not constantly taking but if it bothers you so much, then give me your time and a piece of your mind. That should bring balance to the force."

Now the nausea is setting in.

Chrissy takes far too long peeling off the wrapping paper. There it is. A dark blue velvet ring box with a silky bow of the same color. The anticipation from around the parlor is baring down on her. A faint squeal comes from the corner. People must be making similar assumptions as her. She steadies her breathing and slides the bow off. Dreading what might happen within the next few minutes. The snap the box makes when she cracks it open rings in her ears. 

Hesitantly looking down, she lets out a relieved breath that sounds more like a chuckle and presses a hand to her chest. Inside is a glittering bracelet lying on a tiny cushion.

"That's white gold with white sapphires." Jason leans in and whispers, pointing at the small gems along the tennis bracelet. "Custom made. So is the box. I didn't like the longer ones."

"Wow! It's beautiful… I love it!" She smiles widely, tilting the small box forward so everyone can catch a glimpse of it. Same as with every other present. Noises of approval come from every direction as the piece of jewelry is carefully taken out and wrapped around her wrist by the man who gifted it to her. He grunts with irritation from briefly struggling with the clasp. 

Her gaze trails across the room to where the cheer team is sitting together. Most seem interested in what's going on except for a few. Natalie looks bored out of her mind, slumped in the chair without a care about who might be watching. Charlotte is making a strange face. Somewhere between amusement and pity. When they make eye contact, both can barely hold back a goofy grin.

"Now that all the presents are opened, it's time for the cake." Mrs. Carver clasps her hands and turns on her heel to march out of the parlor. She wheels in an antique-looking serving cart with a pedestal cake dish and glass cover on top. "Jason, honey, do you mind?" Strolling over, he carefully picks up the dish and sets it down on the long table against the wall, trying not to wrinkle his mother's lace covering. It's picture-perfect. 

The cake is very pretty. She saw it earlier. A vanilla cake with buttercream frosting. The decorated edges and lettering were done with green and orange icing. So it's the school's colors. Not that she can complain. It was nice of them to get her anything and with so many people, Mrs. Carver chose a flavor that's more likely to go over well with the guests.

"Please gather around the table. Chrissy... Sit right here, dear. Good. Okay, let's sing Happy Birthday."

'I want to go home soon.'

Chapter Text

The sun had already set by the time they left the Carver residence. It’s dark out. Chrissy sighs as she stares out the window, looking at the houses passing by. The party wasn’t terrible. Mrs. Carver went through a lot of trouble to make everything perfect and host so many people. And it was nice. However, that wasn’t how she wanted to spend her birthday. That sounds so ungrateful. 

‘The day is practically over. I didn’t think it would last that long.’

All the presents fit in a couple of large gift bags. Once out of their decorative boxes and wrappings, the gifts are relatively small yet expensive. A bracelet, earrings, silk scarf, handbags, an ornate hat with feathers and flowers, designer heels that will murder her feet, a necklace, various types of clothing, perfume, etc. It’s what she’s come to expect from the people in her family’s social circle. 

What wasn't expected was Charlotte’s gift. Not the one that was given to her in front of the guests. Nope. After they finished eating cake and everyone was busy, she dragged her and Natalie outside to the car, specifically to the trunk. Where the real present was. That almost took them both out. It was some lingerie in a shopping bag that had the price tags cut off.  

“Felt pointless wrapping them.”

Charlotte said that and shrugged while finding their reactions amusing. Thankfully no one was out there or they would’ve witnessed a spectacle. An embarrassing one. For once, Natalie was speechless. Chrissy was caught between being a blubbering mess and asking questions that should’ve been left on the back burner. It was more to herself than wanting an actual answer but she got them anyway. 

She took them without a huge fuss in the end to their collective surprise. Part of her is curious about them. Might even try a couple on to see how they look. It was difficult to stop Jason from going through the bag when they were putting the gifts in the backseat of the Jeep. She had it rolled up and said it was a surprise for later so he’d back off. That worked, even though it was undoubtedly a bad move. 

Heading down Roseline, Chrissy holds back a yawn and debates what to do after this. Maybe a shower then some TV? The shows she likes aren’t on during the weekend. It’ll probably end up with her flipping through the channels until eventually falling asleep. A spectacular end to a spectacular day.

The Jeep slows down near the house. When they roll past the streetlight he normally parks under, she watches him curiously. Jason stares straight ahead and doesn't stop until they’re out of the light’s reach along the curb.

‘What’s he doing?’

Chrissy keeps him in her side view while straightening out the bottom of her dress. He usually follows the same routine whenever she’s dropped off. This is different. They sit in silence for what feels like an eternity with her glancing between him and the time. A few minutes pass. If no one’s going to say anything, then she’s getting out. 

“Thanks for driving me home. Also for the party. It was really sweet of you guys to do that for me.” That does nothing. The only change is that his grip tightens on the sides of the steering wheel. Fed up with being ignored, she grabs her purse off the floor to leave. 

“Wait.” That stops her from opening the door. She raises a brow and lets go of the handle. “I wanted to talk.” Jason runs a hand through his hair before sitting up straight in the seat. He scans the street like he’s checking to see if anyone’s around.

The purse is returned to its spot. What’s this about? Hopefully, it has nothing to do with Wednesday. Or another tattletale. That is exactly why she refused to ask anyone in their friend group about weed. It would’ve reached him within a day at best. 

“I know we haven’t hung out much lately. With the tournament going on, I’ve been so busy. So have you. When was the last time we had an actual date?” He shakes his head and lets it fall back against the headrest. “That needs to change.” 

‘Why now? I don’t get it. The last time we went out was Noah's party three weeks ago. He hasn't asked to do anything since then.’

“We still have a lot to sort out. College is right around the corner. My parents want to talk to your dad about some things. I guess going over it a dozen times wasn't enough.” Jason scoffs, rolling his eyes. She can agree with the last part. Their parents have discussed it so much that she never wants to hear ‘IU Bloomington’ again.

“Yeah.” 

“Like I’m not already stressed out! I can’t split my full attention across ten different things. How am I supposed to focus on the tournament, the team, my grades, college, our relationship, and everything else?” The tone takes a sharp turn right into agitation. “Everyone’s expecting miracles from me. They’re counting on us to break this damn twenty–two–year losing streak. I’ll never hear the end of it if we don't.”

“All you can do is try your best. You’re working hard. No one can deny that. They have such high expectations because they figure you'll get it done. Same as with the tournament. That streak means the last twenty-two captains didn't win but they think you have what it takes to break it. The problem is none of them are considering your feelings or needs." Stressing out over this could do the opposite of what everyone wants. People often crumble under pressure. “I believe in you. Just focus on what’s important and don't push yourself too far. Everything will turn out the way it’s meant to.” 

Jason turns towards her and smirks, picking up a lock of hair hanging down the front of her dress. “This is why I’m so lucky to have a girlfriend like you. Always so supportive and caring. You’re right. I need to focus on what’s important.” His fingers drop the bundle to grasp her chin, running his thumb across her bottom lip. 

"The most beautiful girl in all of Hawkins. I’m a lucky guy.” 

“You mean the world to me, Chris. I wouldn't have gotten this far without you cheering me on from the beginning. I’m so grateful to have such a pretty, sweet, amazing girl by my side.” He pushes the armrest up and slides across the seat. 

Chrissy steadies her breathing when he leans in, knowing what’s going to happen. That should’ve been obvious the moment the Jeep parked in a dark area. There was no reason to avoid the light if he wanted to chat.

“I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

Those words from weeks ago replay as his lips press against hers. It’s gentle at first. A few light kisses before he gets bolder and deepens it. This is happening again. Getting caught between a rock and a hard place. The more he moves forward, the less room there is between her and the cold window. And it doesn’t seem like that’s stopping soon. 

His tongue prods at the seam of her lips, trying to find a way in. It works. That excites him even more. A myriad of thoughts swirl in her mind while staying still. There's hardly a chance to breathe let alone kiss him back if she wants to because of how eager he is. 

‘What should I do?’

There’s no school tomorrow and her dad’s car isn’t in the driveway. It’s not so late that she’d get into any trouble either. All the usual excuses won’t work this time around. He’s tired of being rejected. She gets that. They’ve been dating for seven months. Most people would’ve already gone the distance by now. Wednesday didn't help anything and she’s tried to avoid getting him upset after that. 

'All I’ve been doing is lying lately.’

Chrissy knows she’s a terrible girlfriend. That’s what keeps her quiet when Jason plants kisses along her jaw and neck. Then when his hands start roaming. Dealing with all those people throughout the day was exhausting. That makes it easier to check out. To let her mind drift away. 

“Are you cold?” The heat isn't on. It’s nippy outside. She nods and he grabs onto her hips, pulling them both down to lie across the seats. “I’ll warm you up.” 

This must be the final birthday present. Did he intend on doing this before they left or is it a spur of the moment thing? She thinks back to the day Charlotte was driving them around. Maybe it’s better to get it over with but her stomach is in knots and she’s not in the mood. 

Jason’s completely enthralled at the moment, groaning as his hands trace her legs. They find the hem of her dress and hitch it up until the fabric is bunched around her waist. He shifts his hips so her thighs are spread apart. It’s getting hard to stay checked out. A nagging voice yells to do something. To stop being such a mouse. She must've given him the wrong idea. Not saying anything is a green light to continue.

“Didn’t… Aren’t we supposed to wait for… you know.” Her own voice quavers while his hands run along her bare skin, causing goosebumps to break out. She hopes the question will get him to rethink this. Despite being selective about which rules to follow, he still grew up with the same stuff shoved down his throat.

That stops him for a moment. He tenses up, panting heavily against her neck. There’s already a layer of sweat across his forehead that’s rubbing off onto her. A long pause passes and she wonders what’s going on in there. “We’re getting married anyway so what's the difference? God knows our intentions.” She shivers at the response as he reaches up to grope her breasts through her bra.

"I don't think—"

"Stop thinking, Chris. You overthink everything. We won't get in trouble."

Chrissy lets out a shaky breath and grits her teeth, staring up at the ceiling. So pathetic. Why is it hard to be honest? Doing it in a Jeep outside of her house wasn't how she imagined this going. It might be better to go through with it. This could patch things up between them. Bring them closer. Make him happy. People say no one forgets their first. It can bond them and deepen the relationship. 

'Is this what I want?'

What she wants doesn't matter. It never did. Her eyes squeeze shut. She's not here. Not surrounded by Calvin Kline cologne. Not lying across a leather seat getting felt up because saying 'no' is the more daunting option. Not too tired and worn down to care anymore. She's somewhere else. A place where the sun shines down through the trees. It's warm. There's a wooden table and dead leaves cover the ground. The scent of cigarette smoke drifts through the air. That helps her loosen up. 

Perhaps Jason got bored touching her chest since there’s not much to work with or he's too impatient. He pulls back and she can hear him unbuckling his belt. The cold metal grazes her inner thigh when he unzips his pants. Are they moving right into it? Isn't there a couple more steps? His fingers hook around the sides of her panties, tugging them down. 

Wham!

She screams before he can react. Jason shoots straight up. A loud bang came from outside. He sits back in the driver’s seat to fix himself and looks out at the darkened street. Wasting no time, she quickly rearranges her clothes, putting them back where they belong. 

“Motherfucker!” He yells, smashing a fist against the dashboard. She recoils into the corner. “Stay in here.” It’s not a suggestion but an order. One she has no intentions of disobeying.   

Jason hops out of the Jeep and slams the door shut. Her gaze follows him around the vehicle until he stops right behind it. She gasps. That's what the sound was. The left side of the rear window has cracks running through it like a large spider web. Something hit it hard enough to almost shatter the thick glass. 

He puts his hands on his head. That ruined everything. All she can do is check through the window for anything unusual. Someone did that. He’s doing the same, walking a few steps in each direction and glaring out into the night. There’s nothing out of the ordinary. No cars driving down the street or people walking around. Not a soul in sight. 

Stopping abruptly, Jason bends over to pick something up off the ground. Chrissy squints to see what it is but he angrily lobs it into a random yard nearby. What was that? She attempts to calm down and grips the hem of her pink dress into small fists as he gets back in. 

“Some piece of shit thinks throwing rocks is funny.” He sits back with an annoyed expression and glances at the mirrors every couple of seconds. Like he's waiting for the perp to suddenly pop out of a bush. There’s not much they can do since neither saw it happen. No one is nearby to point fingers at either. 

“It's not a good idea to sit here,” Chrissy mutters, keeping her eyes trained on the dashboard. 

“If whoever did it is smart, they’re long gone by now or hiding. Otherwise, I’d strangle them.” The muscles along his jaw tense when he takes another look in the rearview mirror at his damaged window. “Damn, this is going to cost me... You should head in. It's safer in there.” 

She nods and grabs her purse while Jason gathers the gifts. What a way to end the day. “Get in and lock the door. Understand?” He instructs, pulling the large bags into the front for her. 

“Mhm.” They kiss and he gives her one last hug before she gets out. With her head down, she trudges across the front yard without a care about the flats, heading straight for the door. This time she doesn’t look back to wave or smile. His orders were to go in and lock the door. That's precisely what she does. 

Did that really happen? Chrissy numbly drags herself up the stairs and into the bedroom. The gift bags are mindlessly tossed onto the desk. They don’t matter right now. Nothing does. Crawling onto the bed, she lies on her back and stares up at the ceiling. Just like in the Jeep. Everything is a mess. A big, jumbled-up mess. That wasn’t how it was supposed to go. None of it did. 

‘I hate myself.’

She feels the familiar burning sensation in the corners of her eyes. This is the worst birthday ever. The entire day was spent with people who didn’t care. Both of her parents are gone. Nothing went as planned. Now she gets to sit here in this empty house and wallow in all these emotions that are tearing her apart inside. All because she’s a coward who’s too spineless to make decisions on her own. 

The minutes pass quickly. She checks the clock again and a half-hour slipped by. Calling Charlotte or Natalie would help but the party took up most of their Saturday too. They’ve done enough. Instead, she rolls over and grabs a pillow to bury her face in. Maybe going to sleep is the best option. It's better than spending the night bawling like a baby. 

Latching onto the duvet, she throws it over herself and curls up into a ball. Now all that’s left is to wait for the nightmares to come. Then she can wake up with a headache and blood on the pillowcase to clean. Another day in paradise. The sniffling finally stops and she manages to relax. Crying always makes her tired so drifting off is easy. 

Tap. 

Tap. 

The noise causes Chrissy to jolt back awake. She tries to shake off the drowsiness when another tap comes from across the room. What is that? It could be a bird or an animal in the tree right outside. Wouldn’t be the first time. There was a woodpecker that hung around last summer that drove her mad. 

She reluctantly throws off the duvet and creeps over to the window to look. Before getting there, something hits the glass causing her to jump. It’s tiny. So small that she could barely make it out. A nut? Rock? Rushing over to the wall, the cheerleader hesitantly peeks out from the side to see what’s going on. Her eyes fly open when they land on the tall figure below. 

‘Eddie!’

A hand clutches the front of her dress. Her heart’s racing. He actually came… He’s here. Right now. 

It should’ve been obvious. Who else would throw stuff like that? This is the best surprise. One that washes away any lingering sleepiness. She’s fully awake and charged. Then there’s another tap on the glass. 

'Uh–oh. If he accidentally breaks it, my dad’s going to kill me.’

Quickly sliding it open, Chrissy yelps and hops back when something flies past her face. “Oh shit!” he shouts from outside. It lands on the carpet and she bends down to see what it is. A pebble. “I didn’t hit you, did I?!” 

That was close. Too close for comfort. This guy is dangerous. A thought pops up that makes her smile mischievously. He messes around all the time. There’s nothing wrong with doing it to him, right? Just a little? Placing a hand over her eye, she pokes her head out of the window. 

“You jerk!” She yells, scowling down at him. Eddie’s jaw drops when he sees her. A horrified expression spreads across his face. It leaves him speechless, struggling to form anything coherent. That only lasts for a moment before her lips curl and she snickers.

“You little liar.” He says playfully, crossing his arms. “A bad one at that. Couldn’t keep it together for more than ten seconds, huh?”

“Sorry, I think I'm losing my touch.” Chrissy leans on the windowsill and gazes at him warmly. She still can’t believe he’s here. The dim lights outside are just bright enough to see him. That denim vest is gone again. He’s got on a plain black tee beneath a red flannel shirt and his leather jacket. A black bookbag next to his feet catches her attention. 

“Good. Makes things a lot easier. Can I come up?” The question throws her through a loop. Hardly anyone does that. Jason’s been in here a handful of times and that was mostly before they started going out. The door always had to stay open so her parents could periodically check on them. 

“Oh um, yeah. Of course.”  

Eddie eagerly snatches the bookbag off the ground, slinging it over his shoulder. To her surprise, he grabs onto the lowest branch and pulls himself up. She goes to say there’s a perfectly good front door to use yet stops herself. It’s too late. The guy is partway up the tree before a single word can come out. 

'Why is he like this?!’

Chrissy twirls a lock of hair around her finger. Yeah. There is a perfectly good front door to use but watching him climb a tree to get to her… She feels light and airy, and there’s a fluttering in her stomach again. Butterflies. They’re going wild, dancing and swooping around in there. 

It doesn’t take him long to reach the ledge. He’s tall and makes it look so easy. She steps back as he climbs over the windowsill into the bedroom. Getting to his feet, he straightens up and pushes his shoulders back. 

“Huh.” The bookbag is set down on the carpet gently. Eddie stands in place, checking out everything from one pale peach wall to the other. She shifts nervously and stares at him from the side. Compared to his room, her’s is boring. Exceedingly so. There are no instruments, flyers for live shows, record collections, posters, or anything interesting lying around.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, not really.” He puts his hands on his hips, still taking it all in. The Queen-sized bed and puffy duvet. A vanity against the wall with a chair in front of it. Across the room is a desk with the gift bags sitting on top. Near that is her walk-in closet. Beneath their feet is a fluffy light tan carpet that she’s taken plenty of naps on over the years. Nothing is overly dark or too bold. “It’s kinda how I imagined it to be like. Everything looks… soft.” 

Girly might be the right word. There wasn't a say in how the room was decorated. Her mom made all the decisions when it came to interior design. There was little to no input from anyone else. 

Eddie whips his head back towards her. They stare at each other for a moment before his brow furrows. “Why were you crying?” He asks, studying her face with a slight frown. 

“What? What are you talking about?” 

“Well, I’m not a genius detective or anything but—” Taking a step closer, his hand grasps her chin and tilts it up. She swallows hard and focuses on a random object in the background. It’s better than looking him in the eyes. They see too much. More than she’s used to. “—the runny mascara? Yeah, a dead giveaway.” His thumb rubs the skin above her cheek, tracing the streak of makeup. 

“I…” Chrissy pulls away, letting his hand fall. “I didn’t know anyone was coming by or I would’ve fixed it.” Doing stuff like that only makes things more confusing. She goes to sit at the vanity and opens a drawer to take a couple of items out. 

“That is not the problem.” They both know that. Eddie probably couldn’t care less if her makeup was smudged. He silently watches her sigh at the reflection then yank out a Ponds jar and cotton round to get to work. It’s not too bad. The puffiness from crying can't be fixed. 

He buries his hands in his underarms, looking dejected. None of this was necessary. A distraction was needed to stop herself from doing something stupid like spilling her guts. She throws him a side glance after tossing the pad into the trashcan beside the vanity. He’s awkwardly leaning over in place trying to get a peek at the bags on the desk.  

“You mind? I’m curious what the nobility consider a present.” 

“Sure, go ahead.” 

“Where the hell are you supposed to wear this thing to?” Eddie pulls out the large hat with feathers and cranes his neck back. Grinning, he twists it around and inspects the gaudy piece with amusement. “You go to those murder mystery parties or something? You know, the ones in a mansion where they always have a flapper girl and butler?” 

“Nope. If I did, it certainly wouldn’t be in that.” She giggles when he slaps the hat onto his head and goes back to rummaging in the bag. 

“Better not. I might have to rethink this whole thing if you did. Even I have limits.” He snorts, holding up a silk scarf. It’s draped around his neck with the end tossed dramatically over his shoulder like an actress in the movies. Every so often their eyes meet in the mirror and it dawns on her that this is to lighten the mood. A goofy attempt to make her laugh. And it’s working. “They know you’re not a sixty–year–old woman, right?”

‘He’s silly.’

Chrissy smiles and picks up the mascara. The final touch. What happens after this? Are they going to hang out here for a while? Hopefully, this doesn’t end too soon. 

Eddie’s suddenly quiet again. Twisting in the seat to see what he’s into now, she raises a brow at his turned back. Something in there caught his eye. She shifts to the side to get a glimpse of what he’s staring at. The ring box is open in the palm of his hand. The one Jason gave her with the bracelet in it. 

At first, she thinks he’s going to try that on too. That doesn’t happen. He just keeps looking down at the piece of jewelry, not saying anything. 

‘What’s with him?’

“So, what's the bookbag for?” The most she’s seen this guy carry around is that old pail. That draws his focus away from the bracelet. He takes off the gifts and puts them back before going over to the bag in question. 

“Well…” There’s a bit of hesitation when his fingers touch the handle. He shakes it off and grabs the bag, moving closer to the vanity. “I got you something for your birthday. The aristocrats can’t pick out anything decent to save their lives. That shitty hat proves it.”

She barely registers him flopping down on the carpet and dragging the bag onto his lap. He got her a gift? His company alone is a present. It’s already brightened up what was a lousy day. 

"Chrissy? Hello?” A ringed hand waves a few inches away from her face to bring her back to reality. 

“I can’t believe you got me something.” She smiles ear–to–ear and slides off the chair to take a seat on the floor near him. It didn't cross her mind. He found out about the party Tuesday night. That's not much time to make plans.

“Okay, okay. Don’t get too excited now. It’s really nothing special.” Eddie’s a little off. Opening the bookbag takes longer than it should and he keeps fiddling with the zipper. 

‘Is he nervous?'  

“Of course it is! It’s from you. How can I not be excited?” 

“If you get your hopes up too much, you might be disappointed.” He grumbles, staring down at the zipper between his fingers. It's hard to tell if he’s anxious or sulking at this point. Maybe both. “Close your eyes. I’ll give ‘em to you one at a time. Got a certain order.”

Chrissy squeezes her eyes closed and waits patiently as she hears the bookbag open along with the sound of crinkling wrapping paper. There’s no deceiving her ears after listening to that all day.

“You can open them.” Looking down at the space between them, there are three gifts on the carpet. All wrapped with an unreasonable amount of tape on them. He plans on making her work for it, huh? “This one first.” 

The larger one of the group is placed in her lap. She snatches it up and searches for a spot with no tape to tear the whole thing off. Thankfully it doesn’t take long. The paper falls onto the floor. A book. It has a blue background with a picture of people in a forest on the front. 

“J.R.R. Tolkeen? Toolkin? Tolkien?” That name is a struggle but he nods with the last guess. “The Lord of the Rings, Part One. The Fellowship of the Ring.” She reads out loud, skimming over the details. It has to be fantasy. Does it have anything to do with D&D? 

“I, uh, figured since you like reading, maybe you'd give this a try. If you want… It’d help you get the references we throw around so you’re not left out. This is only the first book. There’s a lot more to it.” Eddie shifts on the carpet and clears his throat. Before she gets a chance to thank him, the other two gifts are shoved onto her lap. “Okay, now these. Open the smaller one first then the other right after. They kinda go together.” 

‘Why is he rushing me now?’

“Alright.” Doing as he requested, Chrissy gasps when she tears the wrapping off. She stares down at the little image in surprise. It’s a cassette tape. He drew on the card insert. An angel with her eyes closed and hands folded in prayer. It's even colored. The woman looks very familiar too. 

“Turn it around.” This one is the complete opposite. A devilish figure with horns, fangs, and crazy hair. The background is dark with a moon and bats in the night sky. “Side A is stuff from the folks you mentioned before. B is kinda a bag of mixed nuts. Songs you might like or made me think of you. I also added some lighter jams that I wouldn’t mind listening to while we’re hanging out. It’s like a sample platter. Donna helped a bit since she knows more about what’s popular. The titles are on the inside.” 

She opens the case, trying to stop her hands from shaking as she goes over the list. He made a conscious effort to write more neatly compared to what she saw in detention. Glancing over the titles on side A, a breath catches in her throat. There’s at least one song from each artist she mentioned that day they smoked at the picnic table.

‘He remembered.’

“Still have one more.” Chrissy keeps her eyes lowered when taking the last gift from him. Opening it up, she holds the box tightly. “You said books, tapes, and stuff that has some thought put into it so yeah.” 

“And I had a walkman but... it broke."

“Do you like them?” He asks tentatively. There's no response. He fidgets and his fingers begin messing with the chain on his belt loop. “Chrissy?” She turns away when he moves closer. “What’s wrong?” 

Dropping to his side, Eddie inches across the carpet to peer up at her. All the loose hair acts as a curtain around her face but he manages to get a look. Seeing her bottom lip quivering and tears welling up causes him to rear back in confusion. “Is it that bad?!”

“N–No. It’s not that.” She sniffles, putting the walkman box down on the floor to wipe her eyes. “I love them. They’re the best gifts anyone’s ever given me.” 

It’s his turn to be stunned. He scratches his neck, looking away. “...They’re nothin’ to write home about.” That makes her more upset. She covers her face and lets out a sob that throws him off. “Hey! That’s illegal! No more crying on your birthday.” 

It can’t be helped. When has anyone gone out of their way like this? Not only remembering stupid things she’s mentioned in passing but pouring their time and energy into putting together something for her. That has some real thought behind it. The book is a way to include her in his group. And the mixtape had to take a while. The card insert on its own has a lot of effort put into it. 

“Nope, nope, nope!” Eddie shakes his head and waves his hands back and forth frantically. “If you cry again, I swear on all that is wicked and sullied in the world that I will throw myself out that window.” 

She immediately sucks in her lips and winces, fighting to hold back the tears. This guy’s a wildcard. He'd do it just to make a point. 

“That’s better. Sorta.” The corner of his mouth quirks up from watching the lame attempt to control her emotions. “You already fixed your makeup. It’d be a shame to mess it up again over these. They're not worth it.” He huffs, grazing a finger over the cover of the mixtape.

‘So full of it.’

“Thank you.” Chrissy throws herself forward to hug him. He inhales sharply and stiffens up before slowly relaxing into it. Accepting the embrace along with the message. He wraps his long arms around to pull her tightly against him, letting his head rest in the crook of her neck. 

Part of her wishes they could stay like this but nothing lasts forever. Breaking off, she stares down at the carpet, hoping her face isn't too red. That’s a common side effect of hanging around this guy. He’s not much better though. It just shows up differently on him and is easier to conceal thanks to his hair. 

“What do you want to do?” He swiftly busies himself with putting the gifts in a neat pile. “It’s your birthday so we can do anything you want, even if it’s jumping off a bridge.” 

“I’d like to live past eighteen, you know.” She chuckles. Leave it to him to suggest something like that. Glancing at the clock, she sighs at the time. It’s pretty late. At least there's no school tomorrow. It would be easier to come up with a list of things they can do. “I’m not sure. What do you think?”

“Nuh-uh. This ain’t about me. It’s your day so you choose. Doesn’t matter what it is. Could be driving to Chicago to get a little wild or kicking back to watch TV. Either way, it’s all up to you.” Eddie falls back onto the carpet and puts an arm behind his head, getting comfortable as he stretches his legs out with a groan. “No rush. Just let me know when you think of something.” 

Chrissy chews on her bottom lip, fretting over the entire thing. The ball is in her court and she doesn’t know what to do with it. He said they can do anything… Being mindful of the choice is important. Every time they do stuff he always insists on paying for it. That will probably be the case for this too. 

‘Eddie’s not well–off. Neither is his uncle. He did all this for me anyway and wants to do more.'

"Not sure. I never really did what I wanted on my birthday. My parents always turned it into some little social event."

He’s a kind person. It’s a shame more people don’t get to see that side of him. Maybe he doesn’t want them to. Fine. Making a decision isn’t easy. One thing comes to mind. This won’t cost much and she’s been wanting to do it for a while. 

“I have something.” She plays with the hem of her dress as he cracks a lid, peeking out from under it. “It's kind of boring though. I want to watch a scary movie.” 

Both eyes open at that. Eddie shoots up and raises a brow at her. “Really?” 

“Yeah,” Chrissy probably sounds silly. Now he's going to think she’s a super dweeb. “My parents never let me watch anything like that. I tried at Charlotte’s and we quit halfway in.” She says shyly, covering part of her face. It’s warm again from the way he's looking at her. 

“Is that so? I vaguely recall someone telling me they watched too many horror movies.” His smirk makes this so much worse.

“...That was a lie.”

“Oh, I know. I could tell you were full of crap right off the bat.” To think he even remembered the excuse she gave him in the hallway while waiting for Jason to finish up practice. 

“Am I that easy to read?” She whispers somberly, hanging her head. So it is true. There was this feeling that he’d know she was lying. It was useless after all. Telling him the truth wasn’t going to happen. They weren’t friends then. Opening up to others has never been easy.

Eddie doesn't say anything for a minute. Perhaps he’s thinking of a nice way to tell her she’s a terrible actress. “Ah… Wouldn’t say that. Plenty of people seem to buy it. Not me.” He starts messing with the ring on his right hand. “Guess when you’re raised around cons and liars it’s easier to see through bullshit.” 

She stares at him blankly while processing what he said. That brings up an interesting point. Now thinking about it, she doesn’t actually know that much about him. He doesn’t offer up a lot either. 

“How do you wanna do this?” The subject is quickly changed. He hops to his feet and helps her up. “Family Video should still be open. We can rent a few movies from there if you want.” 

“That sounds good.” This isn't the greatest idea. One thing she told him that day was absolutely true. She’s a scaredy–cat. A big one. The only reason this is happening is because he’s here so it shouldn’t be as bad. 

“Okay, sweet.” To her surprise for the dozenth time tonight, he walks across the room and throws a leg over the windowsill. 

“Wait! What are you doing? We can go downstairs.” 

Eddie pauses and looks back at her with a strange expression. “Yeah, about that… My, uh, van isn’t exactly out front. I need to run and get it. Just wait on the porch until I pull up.” With that, he climbs out of the window and onto the nearest branch. 

‘That still doesn’t explain not using the front door.’

Chrissy is in a good mood. No, a great one. That’s obvious when they get out of the van and walk through the parking lot. She’s practically skipping while keeping up with his long strides. 

‘So cute…’

The lot is halfway full. It’s a Saturday night and right next to the video store is the arcade. Of course there were going to be people out and about. Suggesting this was a dumb idea. If someone from school sees them, it’ll get around so damn quick. That doesn’t bother him. It could cause problems for her though. This is what squares refer to as ‘not a good look’. 

Oh well. Eddie would rather focus on her than a bunch of what-ifs. Honestly, he’s in a good mood too. Everything worked out so far despite a few hiccups. He wasn’t sure how the night would play out or if he made the right decisions but seeing how happy she is leaves him with no regrets. 

Stepping over the curb out front of Family Video, he speeds up to get the door for her. Chrissy smiles warmly and walks in. That pink dress might be his favorite outfit on her so far. Besides the cheerleading uniform, of course. That's a classic. She just looks extra sweet today.

He follows in right behind her. After taking a few steps inside the store, he comes to a full stop. No friggin' way. Dark eyes narrow and his lips pull back into a firm line as he stands rooted at the entrance. This is some real bullshit. It’s too late now. Whatever happens after this, it’ll be all his fault. 

‘Fuck!’

Sitting at the counter are Steve Harrington and Robin from band. The pretty boy already graduated but that chick goes to their school. When they pause their conversation to see who came through the door and repeat the usual obligatory customer service spiel, both of their eyes widen. 

Of course that happens. Eddie’s not an idiot. He knows exactly how this appears. Seeing him and Chrissy together would be strange even without knowing who they are. They're polar opposites. She’s this tiny bubbly woman in a pink dress gliding by and he’s… him. These two do know them and that makes it completely different. 

‘They better keep their traps shut.’

At least for now. He doesn’t want anyone ruining the night. It doesn’t seem like Chrissy gets to enjoy her birthdays so she deserves this. From what was said in the van, the nobility didn’t help at all. That includes Captain Douchebag. They all suck ass. That leaves him to pick up the slack. 

The two stare at the odd couple and he returns it, refusing to be the first to break eye contact. He plays this game all the time and always wins. Robin is the first to lose when she glances at the peppy cheerleader who seems entirely unfazed by any of this. The Hair does the same, leaving him with his undefeated record intact. 

‘She’s not worried at all?’

Eddie shrugs it off and trails close to her. Not leaving much room between them. He's surprised such a huge worrywart is being so carefree. After all, she’s the one with something to lose, not him. The most he'll have to deal with is shit–talk and a fistfight if Golden Boy is feeling ballsy. No biggie. That’s inevitable at this point. 

Once the dynamic duo finishes whispering to each other, Robin comes from behind the counter to ask if they need help with finding anything. She seems laid back once the shock wore off… despite being a band geek. 

“I’m looking for something scary.” Chrissy’s eyes go all wide as she says it excitedly. He can’t resist grinning at that. Too adorable. 

“Over here.” The short-haired chick leads them to a section of the wall filled with dark cases. A lot of the covers are familiar. He thought about what would be good choices on the way here. Figures they wouldn't have the ones he had in mind. They're stocked with mostly mainstream horror flicks like Friday the 13th and Halloween. 

He scans over the selection while the two girls chat, keeping his hands in his pockets. She doesn’t watch stuff like this and probably wouldn't know what to search for. Now, the real question pops up. Is he going to be a jerk and get something extra scary so she’ll grab onto him?

‘They have The Exorcist. Surprise, surprise. Didn’t expect that.’

The longer Eddie stares at the cover, the deeper his frown gets. Nah. Can’t do it. Sure, Chrissy might get frightened and inch closer to him but that’s rotten to do on purpose. She’s pretty sensitive. Then there’s the whole wigging-out thing from last week. 

‘Nope. Not doin’ it.’

The tape gets put back on the shelf and he moves on. Apparently it’s up to him to make the choices since she’s been talking to Robin about school crap and not movies. That’s okay. He already told her this was right up his alley.

Screw it. He grabs a handful of movies along with a comedy in case she needs a chaser once they're done with the horror fest. Spending a chunk of the night picking these out isn’t part of the plan. There’s still another stop after this before going back to her place. He'd much rather do that than stand here looking at clamshell cases while someone burns a hole through his back with their eyes.

Chrissy peers through the window at the small building and neon sign, wondering what they’re doing here. It’s on the ‘bad side' of town. This isn't too far from the bar and that diner they went to before. 

“You want anything?” She shakes her head at his question. He didn’t say anything about making stops but that’s fine. They’re still hanging out and that’s all that matters. “Do me a favor. Just, ah… stay in here and keep the doors locked. ‘Kay?” 

“Yeah. No problem.” 

Eddie hops out and heads into the store. Or bar. Or whatever it is. She’s not entirely sure. There are signs for alcohol, cigarettes, food, lottery tickets, and other stuff. The large lit–up windows in the front give her a small view of the inside. All that's easy to make out is a counter and rack of chips. 

‘Yeesh. I’m glad he didn’t ask me to go in with him.’

The people hanging around seem beyond rough. Not in the same way as in The Hideout though. It’s different. The fact that he said to stay in the van and keep the doors locked tells her everything she needs to know. 

Ten minutes pass and she starts getting worried. This place must be putting her on edge. Still, scenes begin playing out in her mind that become more ludicrous as time goes on. Hopefully he’s fine. If she goes to check and it's nothing, he could get upset that his instructions were ignored. 

‘Eddie said that for a reason.’ 

Sitting back against the seat, she sighs and swings her feet back and forth. This is going to be a long one. The paper bag on the floor has five movies in it. Getting through all of them is unlikely. They can try anyway. It seems like he’s either staying the night or leaving extremely late. She prefers the first option. 

“Hm?” Her ballet flat gets caught on something under the seat. “What the heck?” Huffing, she reaches beneath to feel around for whatever is wrapped around her foot since shaking it off didn’t work. The tips of her fingers graze a cold, hard object. 

“Come on!” It takes a minute along with turning the thing to the side to get it out but she manages to get the job done and free her flat. So this was the culprit. Her face twists in confusion as she holds it up, trying to make heads or tails of it. A metal gadget with grips and a yellow elastic band. Is it a workout thing? 

‘Oh! Okay, I think it’s supposed to be held like this. Is it some kind of sling—'

Chrissy purses her lips as a realization hits. It was him. It's always him. She wasn't meant to see this. That slingshot was haphazardly jammed beneath the seat and it goes right back there. 

The door in the back door is flung open and she almost jumps out of her skin. Jesus. Poking her head above the seat, Eddie’s there with some bags and a box. He tosses them down none too gently before slamming it closed. 

“What’s all that?” She gawks at him when he gets in and starts the van up. No wonder it took a bit. At least everything’s fine. 

“Just felt like drinking tonight. This is the only spot still open that doesn’t make a fuss over IDs. I also gotta pizza. Something to eat before throwing ‘em back.” 

“Because it’s one of the golden rules of the Munson doctrine, right?” 

“Heh.” Pulling out onto the street, he glances over at her with a grin. “You got it, sweetheart.”

“I don’t mind taking something.” She turns back with a concerned expression. This man is incredibly stubborn. He's trying to carry the bags, balance a pizza, and watch his step along the dark path to her house. 

“Christ, Chrissy… I’m not gonna make you carry my shit on your birthday. Just get the door for me.” Yep. Stubborn as hell. All there is to do is sigh and run ahead to unlock the front door. 

Holding it open for him, Eddie stops after taking a few steps inside and looks around the foyer. This is his first time coming through the house so it makes sense. She did the same thing at his place. 

Chrissy takes off the flats and leaves them by the door. The usual. To her surprise, he follows suit, awkwardly kicking his sneakers off while trying not to drop anything. 

“The kitchen is this way.” This makes her feel a little self-conscious. Guiding him through the house, his eyes dart everywhere to take in the details. The swank furnishings, ornaments, vases, framed art, and her least favorite, the ‘family picture’. He pauses for a moment to check it out. She despises that thing. Her mother commissioned a family portrait to be painted and proudly displayed in the home. If it were up to her, it would be sitting in a box in some corner of the basement. Her dad leaves it up.

“Damn. I’d hate carrying groceries through here. Guess that’s one good thing about trailers. Everything’s close in that piece of crap.” He sounds relieved when they make it to the kitchen and he can finally set the bags down on the bar.

“I like your trailer.”

Eddie makes a strange face like she’s off her rocker. “We can trade if you want.” He starts taking stuff out of the bags. A six-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon. Then another. And another. Her eyes widen as she looks from the cans back to him. He's not planning on drinking that much, right? Impossible. “Why do you like it?”

She drags her gaze away from all the beer, hoping there isn’t more in the other bags. “I don’t know. It feels more like a home.” He dumps out some snacks onto the counter and arches a brow at her. “I mean, it looks like people actually live there. It’s nice and cozy.” 

“Huh. You really are a freak.” A hand lands on Chrissy’s head, ruffling her hair as he chuckles. She swats at it which makes him laugh more. “Didn’t know if you wanted to drink. I got some wine coolers just in case since you’re the one person in this town who doesn’t like beer.” 

‘Uh–oh.'

She underestimated him. A mistake that won’t happen again. Where this guy puts it away is a mystery. He scarfed down four slices of pizza and washed it down with beer. Taking a bite first means the golden rule is technically not broken. According to him, anyway. The slice she called dibs on had a single candle jammed into the crust when they finally sat down to eat. He never answered where it came from and decided that was a good time to see how much pizza could fit in his mouth.

It's gotten messier from there. 

The coffee table she pulled out in front of the couch is littered with snack wrappers and empty cans. One is being used as an ashtray. Everything going on here would warrant a life sentence without the possibility of parole from her dad. At least there’s about a week left until he comes back. The place will be aired out and cleaned up long before then. 

The movie they’re watching is Return of the Living Dead—a zombie flick he picked out. Chrissy sits on the edge of the cushion, gripping the wine cooler in her hands. Having the lights off makes this so much creepier. A bunch of punks are running through a cemetery. Literal punks. Chains, leather jackets, piercings, funky hairdos, and all. She doesn't know how they’ll survive because the guys in the mortuary found out these zombies are practically invincible. Bashing their heads in does nothing. Same with cutting them into pieces. They keep moving and trying to chomp on anyone they can get ahold of. 

‘Freaky!’

“Is this too scary for you?” Eddie throws her a side glance. He said he's already seen this before so missing a part won’t ruin anything for him. Every so often, she catches him staring from the corner of her eye. She tells herself it's to check if this is a bit much for her since he's the one who chose them.

“No...” What does he take her for? Of course it is but she’s going to suck it up like an adult and get through this. It could be worse. She takes the last sip from her wine cooler and slips the empty bottle onto the table with the rest. Between that and the sparkling wine she snuck out of her parents' collection, her stomach is warm. 

‘I’m enjoying this.’

Reaching over the side of the couch, she feels around for the lever below and pulls it. The right half tilts back and the leg rest pops out. “Woah!” Eddie's face lights up. “This thing must’ve been pricey. Does the other side go up too?” He wastes no time downing what’s left in his can and from the sounds of it, there was still quite a bit. 

The recliner interests him for some reason. Rubbing his hands together gleefully, he leans over to do the same thing on his side. Once everything’s in place, he lays back and stretches his legs out as far as they'll go. “Man, my uncle would love this bad boy.” 

‘I think he’s feeling good.’ 

“Ah!” Chrissy covers her mouth when a horde of zombies ambush the paramedics who are there to help Freddy and Frank. They didn’t stand a chance. The rabid undead came from all directions. 

“It’s okay. Don’t be scared.” A hand touches the center of her back, rubbing small circles along it. If he’s trying to be comforting… it’s working. 

“I’m not!” She snaps back. An overreaction to being embarrassed. He probably thinks she's a big baby. Who could blame him? Instead of apologizing, she pouts and goes back to watching the movie. That doesn't help with the whole baby idea. 

“Little liar.” Eddie leans in close and gently grabs her face. “That’s the second time you tried bullshitting me.” His fingers press into the cheerleader’s cheeks, smushing them together. He gets a kick out of moving her head side to side like that. “You’re being a bad girl tonight.” 

She doesn’t think her eyes can get any wider. What did he say? Blinking rapidly, her face turns bright red. It's hot. Too hot. After a moment, it finally hits him too like getting struck with a lightning bolt. All that alcohol must’ve caused his mouth to get ahead of his mind. He jerks his hand back and grimaces before retreating to his previous position. 

'I’m being a bad girl?’

Was that him or the beer talking? Chrissy wants to crawl under the cushions to hide. From the looks of it, so does he. He's stiff as a board. Keeping his gaze intently fixed on the TV screen. 

Now there’s an awkward silence. It’s uncomfortable but she isn't sure what to do. The only thing that is for certain is her heart is beating furiously. Totally out of control. This is bad. One of his hands almost covered the lower half of her face. She never noticed that before. 

They watch the rest of the movie like that. The moment it’s over, Eddie turns on the end table lamp. The sudden brightness makes her wince after being in the dark. “Hey, uh, where’s your bathroom?” 

“Down the hall on the right. Last door.” She's crestfallen when he gets up to leave without sparing her a single glance. It might've been better to admit it. How can this be fixed? The puppy-dog face worked before. So should buttering him up. Having things get weird between them sucks. This has been such a good night. No way is she letting something small ruin it.  

Chrissy grabs the glass of wine. A wine cooler isn’t strong enough on its own to give her the courage she needs. Getting buzzed should make it easier to say what’s on her mind. 

After what feels like a century, she debates going to check on him. What if he’s drunker than it seemed? He could be passed out somewhere in the house. Or left? That'd be so upsetting. Leaving on that note would be terrible and it’d mean he’s driving drunk. 

“My bad.” Relief washes over her when that wild hair comes around the corner. He’s not avoiding her anymore. “Didn’t wanna break the seal but what can you do?” Giving a small shrug, he waltzes over to the VCR beneath the TV and crouches down. The VHS in the system goes back into its case and another one is picked up. 

‘I’m glad he’s letting it go.’

“You sure you can handle another?” Eddie looks back with a smirk. Back to being a punk. Good. She nods and takes another sip. “Nightmare on Elm Street. You good with that? It could freak you out if Return of the Living Dead made you jump.”

“Yep! Besides, even if I do get scared... you’re here. I’ll be okay.” He stares at her with an unreadable expression before whipping back toward the VCR. His shoulders raise high and he grabs a bundle of hair to pull toward his face. The other fiddles with the new tape case. 

‘Eddie can be really cute sometimes.’ 

Chrissy has heard about this movie. They’ll have to see if it's too much. When the lights go off and it starts, she’s glad when he sits closer this time. Being near him makes everything easier. 

Whoever came up with this film has a twisted mind. They’re not that far yet. The idea alone is terrifying. A girl named Tina is having horrible nightmares where a creepy guy attacks her. The crazy part is that the injuries the victim receives during the dreams happen to their actual body.

‘Nightmares.’ 

Her arms wrap around herself as she shifts on the cushion. Sneaking a peek at the man next to her, he appears completely relaxed. Arms stretched out across the back of the couch and eyes focused on the screen. Perhaps he’s seen this one before too or it takes a lot more than this to rattle him. 

The next scene is of Tina being murdered in bed while her boyfriend is helpless to do anything about it. She flinches when the screaming woman is dragged up the wall to the ceiling, unable to defend herself against Freddy’s slashes. It’s a bloody mess. Rod is immediately suspected of the crime. It makes sense. Who’d believe it was a serial killer from a dream world? 

“Hey,” Chrissy tears her gaze away from the TV to look at him. He’s staring, long and hard, narrowing his eyes on her. “Stop trying to act tough.” It’s low and the gentle tone doesn’t match the words. She tries to string together a retort yet nothing sounds good. 

“...C’mere.” The arm lounging across the top of the couch drops down onto her shoulders, slipping around them. It gives her a little tug and she mindlessly follows. Too stunned to think straight. Nothing is working upstairs. Just floaty thoughts drifting along in small fragments that make no sense. 

The arm guides her closer until there’s no room left between them. Alcohol is to blame for why she's letting him pull her right up against him. That's it. It's the wine's fault. All that beer must be making Eddie bolder than usual. She hesitantly lays her head down on his chest while he yanks the side of his flannel shirt out from under them. He drapes it over her like a throw. It doesn't reach far and stops at the top of her thighs. 

“Better?” He asks, rubbing her upper arm. The tension throughout her body melts away. A small nod is all he gets. She doesn’t trust her voice right now. Between the wine and shot nerves, nothing on her is trustworthy. The best thing to do is lay here and watch the movie. 

Eddie’s warm. Really warm. And she can feel his heart beating against the side of her face. It’s loud and fast. Curious, she snags a glance at him from below. He’s staring straight ahead with a stony expression. 

Chrissy sighs and draws her legs in to get comfortable. This is nice. Perhaps too nice. The smell of beer, cigarettes, and spice is strong. She kind of likes it here. It's cozy. Safe. Enough to relax while the movie continues. Maybe it’s not so scary after all. 

His long fingers tug at her bunny ears. Another thing that is allowed to happen. She doesn’t mind when the headband is taken off and tossed somewhere on the couch. Or when he messes with her hair. It’s like back in the stairwell. He strokes the top of her head and plays with the loose strands. 

Conflicting thoughts and emotions claw at her insides. Everything is mixed up. She's at a loss on how to handle any of it. Right seems wrong yet wrong feels right. Her gut, mind, and heart are having a showdown with two in agreement and the other holding out. The logical choice might not be the best one. 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Jason should be the one running his fingers through her hair while she slings an arm across his waist. Chrissy should be with her boyfriend, not cuddling up with another guy on her birthday when he’s not around. Why did it turn out this way? Skipping class that day was a big mistake. She just had to go on an adventure to find some pot. 

This is the second time today that she let a man do as they pleased and it ended very differently. If his window hadn't been busted, Jason probably would’ve kept going and she was too much of a pushover to say anything. Couldn’t he pick up that she wasn’t into it? There has to be a way. She can usually guess how he’s feeling by the way he talks and holds himself. Is she that difficult to figure out?

“Oh, I know. I could tell you were full of crap right off the bat.”

Eddie can tell. He knew something was off before they started talking. Why can't Jason? When she went a couple of days without eating or sleeping, he didn’t seem to notice. And she told him so many times not to get her expensive gifts. He doesn't take what she wants into consideration. Instead, he presents her with something over the top in front of people. They always have to put on a show for an audience.

‘Why can't Jason listen to me? He either ignores what I say or cuts me off. I get he's stressed out but... They all hang out at Benny's and he'd rather do that than be with me. We barely spend any time together outside of school anymore. Both of us are always more concerned with what others think and doing what our parents expect. I'm tired of living like this. I hate it.'

This would've been one of the worst birthdays she’s had if it wasn't for Eddie. He made it the best. It was the first time anyone let her decide and tried their best to make it happen. Everything he did means so much to her... He doesn’t realize it but what they’re doing right now is another present in itself. She wanted to know what it was like to do this for so long. To curl up with another person and be embraced. A little intimacy without pressure to fool around. 

‘He’s good to me.'

If Wednesday proved anything, it’s that an open friendship is impossible with their current circumstances. Jason would never allow it. With Andy goading him on, there’s a possibility things could turn nasty. She doesn’t want to stop being friends with Eddie because of them. Now that they got to know each other better, it’ll be painful to walk away. There will always be the thought of ‘what if’ that trails behind her every step of the way. It shouldn’t have started in the first place and now it’s too late. 

'Should I be mad about earlier? Is this my fault? I led Jason on the whole time. Most guys would expect that by now. He says rotten things about girls who do it though. I don't know. I'm so confused.'

“You okay?”

Her brows shoot up at the question, stunned to realize she was balling up his shirt into a fist. “Y–Yeah.” She tries to smooth out the fabric. His muscles tense up when her hand brushes over his chest. “Sorry. I didn't mean to.” 

“You’re good.” He snorts, going back to playing with her hair. 

‘I think I like him.’

How does Eddie feel about her? It could just be as a good friend. He's drunk and in the mood to cuddle. Charlotte gets like that sometimes. It doesn't necessarily mean anything. All she knows is that the thought of never seeing him again hurts. More than it should. Perhaps a needy, selfish part of her is clinging to him and how he makes her feel. 

This is going to get out. Tonight could be it. There were plenty of people around. Steve and Robin saw them too. Constantly hiding things is exhausting. Eddie shouldn’t be one of them. He’s better than that. 

Chrissy can see it. The crossroads up ahead where a choice has to be made. Left or right? Which path is the correct one? Make everyone else happy or do what’s right for her soul?

“Who gives a damn what other people think? Do what makes you happy.”

That could cost her everything. Even if this goes nowhere, following the plan will ruin her. She knows it. Staying quiet at Jason’s side while constantly doing as she’s told and being terrified of disappointing everyone for the rest of her life is a special kind of misery. One that will slowly rot her from the inside, leaving nothing behind but a husk of a person. 

“And tell 'em to shove it. They're not the ones walking in your shoes. You don't want to wake up at fifty with a bunch of regrets just to make a few squares happy.”

Maybe she’s being stupid. Incredibly stupid. There’s no way of knowing for sure until it’s too late. 

“...I don’t want to be with Jason anymore…” 

The hand in her hair stops moving and his body goes rigid. “What?” Eddie whispers but he heard it. His heartbeat and breaths pick up. Both are going faster than they already were. She doesn’t repeat it. Saying that once was hard enough. 

Chrissy stares at the TV as a distraction. Part of her already knew. Denying it only went so far. She tries to blink away the tears and bites down hard on her trembling bottom lip to keep herself from crumbling apart on him. He goes back to running his fingers through her hair and she’s grateful for that. 

Chapter Text

Eddie winces from a bright beam blasting him in the face. Do the dogs have a floodlight this time? Good luck finding anything. His bleary eyes blink a few times to adjust. It's just the light pouring in through the curtains.

Wait.

His room doesn't have curtains. Shit. He groans and lifts his two-ton head to glance down before letting it drop back against the couch. Double shit. That’s right. They fell asleep like this. 

‘I gotta piss like a racehorse.’  

That's gonna have to wait. Chrissy is zonked out and still curled up on him. Yeah, making her get up so he can take a leak would make him feel like an asshole. 

He yawns, running a hand over his face and into his hair. What a mess. It's totally out of control. Reaching over to the end table, he maneuvers around to pull out a cigarette from his pack before grabbing the lighter and makeshift ashtray. His past self deserves a pat on the back for thinking ahead. A precaution in case they didn't move and got stuck here for a while.

The smoke is quickly waved away. No non-smoker wants a nose full of burning tobacco first thing in the morning. He keeps his hand with the cigarette hanging over the armrest so it's not as bad and looks down at her again. His right arm is still wrapped around her. Wow. That beer got him to say screw it last night. Maybe that hasn't changed. 

Chewing on the inside of his lip, he slowly inches closer, carefully watching for any sign of movement. Nothing so far. The tip of his finger lightly grazes her cheek. More nothing. Now he's feelin' brazen. His thumb takes over to caress the corner of her mouth. It’s soft. He could already tell that much.  

“Mmm…” She snuggles into his shirt. The grip on it tightens and she gives a small tug. 

“Phew.” Eddie breathes out a sigh of relief. Okay, that wasn’t a great idea. He's pushing it. 

'Did she mean it?’

Does Chrissy want to break up with Golden Boy? Or was that drunk talk? Kinda hard to believe until he sees it. She could wake up and not remember a word of that. There’s no point in getting his hopes up right now but it means the thought is there. People don't normally blurt out something like that for no reason. If they do split, that doesn’t mean she'd give him a chance. Honestly, he didn’t do himself any favors last night either. Nope. Just had to go overboard with the beer. What was meant to loosen them up to have a good time ended up making his mouth have a bigger set than its owner. 

“You’re being a bad girl tonight.”

That alone is cause to self-immolate. Go out back, dig a big hole, set himself on fire, and tell Chrissy to toss some dirt on whatever’s left. He was the one being bad. Riled himself up then couldn’t look at her until he sorted it out. What a louse. That didn't ruin the night. She liked the gifts. They went to a few places and chilled. 

‘And snuggled.’

Chrissy murmurs something as she stirs awake. Her hand rubs the sleep away, smudging what’s left of the makeup. She pushes off his chest to sit up while fighting the grogginess causing her to sway.

“Mornin’, princess.” When those blue eyes land on him, they widen real fast. She whips her head back and stares straight ahead. Is it that startling to wake up to his funky mug? All that drinking might've done a number on her. Could be lost in the sauce and forgot what went down. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She lets out a yawn and raises her arms to stretch from side to side. “Ow.” There it is. That hiss confirms it. Then she winces and gingerly touches her forehead. 

“Gotta hangover, huh?” Eddie pushes the leg rest down to snatch a beer off the coffee table. Cracking it open, he takes a big swig and falls back against the couch. It’s warm but oh well. He’s not a snob. 

Chrissy gawks at him. “You’re drinking this early?”

“You know what they say. Bite the dog that bit you.” 

“Does that really work?” 

“Sure. Wouldn’t bother if it didn’t. Well, that’s not entirely true.” From the side, he can see her eyeing a wine cooler on the table. Debating whether to try it out for herself. She reaches for it to take a sip. “Water and some aspirin help too. A joint doesn't hurt either.” 

“Ugh. I feel like crap.” Chrissy moans, slouching on the cushion. This is the first time he's heard her say that. It's usually nothing beyond a 'darn' or 'jerk'. Except for when she coughed out 'Christ' in his room.

‘I wanna hear her say ‘fuck’. That’ll lay me out.’

“It’s the sign of having a good night. If you don’t wake up feeling like a pile of shit, then you probably didn’t have much fun.” He chuckles and scoots over to rub her back. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that she's going through it. That’s written all over her face. 

“Of course you’d say that.” Massaging her temples, she glances at a small clock on the mantle and gasps. “No way! It's after ten. I can’t believe I slept so long. Jeez. I need to take a shower.” Eddie looks away, knowing what that means. It's a nice way to hint their time is up. Get going. Scram. Hit the road. “Do you want something to eat after I get out? I can make breakfast.”

Hold up.

He repeats the question in his head. She not only isn't kicking his ass out but also wants to cook for him. His assumption was wrong. Got it. How can he refuse such an offer? "Yeah, I'm down." It means they get to hang out together longer. “Where's your trash bags?” That's met with a confused expression. “So I can throw all this out.” A hand motions to the crushed beer cans and wrappers scattered around.

“I'll take care of it,” Chrissy says wearily while surveying the extent of the mess he created. All she had was a couple wine coolers and a glass of wine. 

“Nah. Most of this is mine. Just show me where they are then get that little butt in the shower.” That puts some color back into her face. She’s not winning this one. Her pouting trick won't work here. Leaving trash everywhere and making her clean it up would be such a dick move. Maybe that’s what she does for her dad and Carver but he’s not them. 

“Fine.”

Eddie yanks off the lid to toss the bags into the large can. Boy, there was a lot more garbage than expected. What a pig. Between the beer, snacks, pizza, and cigarette butts, he had plenty to do. The plan was to make it seem like no one stayed over. He tried. The smell of cigarette smoke is permanently stuck in his nose so he's not sure how well of a job he did getting rid of it. 

There was something that surprised him when opening up the windows to air the place out. Only a tiny bit... The Cunninghams are reckless. None of the windows have locks on them, including the one in Chrissy’s room. They’re the kind of family his old man would’ve loved to know about. A big old house with valuables that is practically begging to get robbed. It'd be so easy to wait until no one’s home to sneak in. There’s nothing to get in the way. Not even a dog. Her dad must have a false sense of security from living in a nice area.

‘Un–fucking–believable. How can Mr. C leave his daughter home alone with no protection? What a jackass.’

Grumbling, he grabs the handles of the two trash cans next to the garage and drags them behind him. Chrissy said the truck comes in the afternoon so he’s taking these big clunkers down to the curb for her. It’s the least he can do since she’s making him food. 

What a treat. 

On the way back, he pauses when that familiar sensation creeps up on him. Figures. A middle-aged woman is staring fiercely from across the street. Squinting with those beady eyes that give away too much. Yeah, he knows. A guy like him shouldn’t be around here and is a real eyesore. Yada, yada. Too friggin’ bad. 

Eddie smiles toothily and waves with his right hand. The flannel sleeves are already rolled up, giving her a good view of the tattoo on his forearm and the chain around his wrist. The woman recoils in disgust. Acting like the sight of him alone is offensive. She rushes to her porch while glancing back every few seconds. 

“Heh.” He snorts, striding up the walkway toward Cunningham Castle. So that’s what he gets for being a friendly neighbor, huh? These people have no manners. Looks like peace was never an option. 

After going into the house, he kicks off his sneakers and places them next to her white flats. His ears pick up noises coming from down the hall. She’s finally out. He wanders into the kitchen to see Chrissy pulling out some pans. The cheerleader is in a light green tank top and white shorts with her hair hanging loose in damp waves. It stops him in his tracks by the counter. All he can do is stand there and stare. 

“Thanks for that. They’re heavy.” She puts a spatula down on the counter and turns toward him. “I would've had to make two trips.” 

It takes a moment to register what she said. The hangover might be kicking his ass harder than expected. “Yeah, no problem. Anytime.” 

Chrissy goes back to moving around the kitchen, getting everything out to whip them up some breakfast as he sits on a stool at the bar. He tears his eyes away from her to focus them on his rings. Those little bastards are in the mood to wander. 

‘I can’t believe she has those.’

Eddie was being a naughty boy. He has a bad habit of getting into stuff. Curiosity always got the best of him and this time, it got him good. He wasn’t ready. Would that ever be the case? Unlikely.

A certain someone was taking a while in the shower so he got bored once the mess was cleaned up. Well, sidetracked more like. Leaving the trash bags near the front door, his dumbass crept upstairs and decided to check out the rest of those presents. He only rummaged through two bags out of a handful of them. That was a big mistake. But she said it was okay last night, right? So it should be fine. He also shouted before coming up. 

What a fool. 

There was a rolled-up bag behind the others. It was different from the fancy decorated ones. Perhaps this is what he gets for sniffing around. Those weren't normal presents. They were a big bag of sexy. A light pink babydoll nightgown. Pure white teddy. Bras and panties. Lots of silk and lace, and most of it sheer. He died. Soul slipped right out of his mouth and hovered in the air for a while. 

That is until the shower stopped running. No other time has he ever hauled ass like that. Getting caught with those would’ve been the end of his existence. She should see him being helpful and taking out the trash. Not rifling through her lingerie. Still, he can't resist wondering whether she picked them out or if someone else got them for her. 

‘Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it! Later. I need a distraction.’

“Hey, if you have a bobby pin, I can open that stereo cabinet for you while I’m here.” She sounded disappointed in the van when mentioning how her dad keeps it locked up.

“What?” Grabbing a dishrag to wipe her hands off, Chrissy eyes him curiously. “You can?” 

“Hell yeah. It’d take me two seconds.” 

“Will that scratch it up or anything? My dad notices stuff like that.” 

Her old man's gotta be a real joy to live with. That guy could fit in as a Bomont council member. “Nah. No one would even tell it was open. As long as you lock it afterward, he’ll never know.” 

“Okay.” Her face lights up and she dashes out of the kitchen to go upstairs. It only takes a moment before she's back with a pin in one hand and the mixtape in the other, trying to catch her breath. 

‘That was fast.'

They go into the den where the stereo system is set up nicely in the corner of the large room. “You’re okay with this being ruined?” He says, holding up the pin. She nods and watches eagerly as he bends it then crouches down to pick the lock. As previously stated, it only takes a few seconds. “Ta–da!” 

“Wow!” Chrissy clasps her hands together, looking from the pin to the open glass cover in awe. “That’s so cool. How did you learn to do that?”

Heat stings his face and neck from getting such an enthusiastic reaction. It’s not that cool. This is an old trick plenty of people know. She had a similar response to him playing guitar at the middle school talent show after getting off stage. That messed him up back then. “I, uh… Just something I picked up as a kid. Works for other stuff too like doors.” 

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. There’s a trick for everything. I’ll show you a few handy ones sometime.” Eddie clears his throat and goes back to the stereo. That look she’s giving him… Like he’s actually impressive and for what? Nothing. He did nothing. “You guys have a pretty sweet system here. I’m jealous.” 

Chrissy only blinks at him and hands over the mixtape. He feels weird about this because she was supposed to listen to it when he wasn’t around. To let him save face. From a music standpoint, it’s like showing his bare ass. That wouldn’t be a big deal if it wasn’t in front of the girl he's into. 

“Which side do you want?” He flips the case back and forth. To his discomfort, her finger taps on the demon. “You sure?”

“Mhm. I have all the time in the world to listen to the other one. Plus, I already know those songs and you’re here.”

“I don’t mind listening to your stuff.” 

“I’ll do that later with my walkman.” She's positively smug about it, emphasizing the last two words. That raises his spirits. “So, can we listen to B for now?”

“Yes, m'lady. Right away.” Eddie sets it up and adjusts the volume. Don’t need the squares calling the cops this early from getting spooked. Van Halen’s ‘Dance the Night Away’ starts playing. The case is in her hand when they head back to the kitchen. 

“Have you seen her? So fine and pretty. Fooled me with her style and ease... And I feel her from across the room. Yes, it’s love in the third degree.”

“This is Van Halen?” Chrissy checks the title list on the inside of the case as they walk down the hall, completely oblivious to her guest’s suffering. 

‘Cool your jets, idiot.’

“You bet.” Right now, he really needs David Lee Roth to shut up. Why did he have to put that one first? Too on the nose. 

“She's on fire, 'cause dancin' gets her higher than uh, anything else she knows… Ooh, baby baby. Won't-cha turn your head my way? Ooh, baby baby… Well don't skip romance 'cause you're old enough to dance the night away.”

She's quiet as they go back into the kitchen. He makes a beeline for the stool and is thankful her mind is more focused on breakfast than anything else. “How do you want your eggs? Scrambled, sunny side up, over easy? Or an omelet? What about bacon? Do you like it soft or crispy? Should I put in hash browns? Ooh! I'll make some toast.” She starts rambling and going through the cabinets. 

“Chrissy! Don’t give me so many options. I’m a simple guy. Whatever you make is getting shoveled into my mouth and I’ll like it. I’m not some five-star guest.” He leans against the small back of the stool, crossing his arms. She doesn’t need to get all flustered over him. He’s not that special.

She stares at him for a moment then whips her head away. “...To me you are.”

His lips move to lob a retort but it quickly falters. That’s how she sees him? As a special guest? 

Chrissy sighs in annoyance and taps her foot against the floor. “Why did he have to put it there?” She stretches, getting on her tippy toes to reach a container high up. When that doesn’t work, she searches for something to climb on.  

He smirks and slides off the stool. Little shrimp. Now is his time to shine. “It’s up there?” She gives him a tiny nod. Eddie’s not sure why he does it. Maybe the hangover is brutal and thinking straight isn’t working out too hot for him. But he grabs Chrissy by the sides and hoists her up. 

“H–Hey!” she shouts, hands clinging to his forearms as her feet try to reach the edge of the counter for stability. The expression on her face screams ‘what the hell are you doing?’. He cringes and hangs his head in embarrassment. What a full-fledged idiot. 

“I know, I know. Could’ve grabbed it myself but I already lifted you by the time it hit me. Figured I might as well commit now that we’re here.” Christ, he can’t stand himself sometimes. Such a moron. Self-immolation is sounding pretty good right about now. 

“I, um, got it.” Setting her back onto the floor, he avoids glancing at her and whatever she grabbed. “Thanks.” He only grunts in response to that and goes back to the stool, deciding to keep his mouth shut to not make this any worse. “You’re strong.” 

‘No, you’re just really light.’

Not that she needs to hear it. Lifting Chrissy is a piece of cake anyway. He’s had more trouble hauling large equipment around at shows or getting drunks out of the way. 

‘I could toss her around so easily.’

Eddie shifts his jaw and goes back to watching her at the stove cracking eggs into a pan. When was the last time someone made him a homemade breakfast? His uncle tried before. That was almost edible once the charred bits were scraped off. It’s the thought that counts though. 

“What do you want to drink?” She swings by to put a heavy plate down in front of him soon after. Steam is still coming off the food. “That isn't beer. Water, orange juice, or milk?”

“Damn. I was hoping to finish off the rest of that last six–pack. Guess I’ll go with number three.” Crazy. This is like some weird fever dream. It’ll take time to get used to stuff like this. If it continues. That's a big 'if'. 

When she takes a seat, he can’t help noticing how different their plates are. His has a ton of scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, and toast. The one beside him is almost empty. Only a small amount of eggs and one piece of toast. 

‘I’ll fix that.’

“Smells great.” Right away, he starts digging in without a care. Yep. Fucking bangin’. What a shocker. Chrissy Cunningham—daughter of snobby richies—can cook her ass off. 

It doesn’t take long to notice what she’s doing. Sitting there poking at her eggs with a fork. Biding time. Possibly waiting for him to finish up to get rid of it. Grabbing a piece of bacon, he tears a chunk off and moves closer. “Hey.” She raises a brow when she sees what he's holding. “Have some.” All she had last night was the wimpiest slice of pizza. That’s not enough. He can tell she’s hungry from the low rumbling his ears are picking up. “For me?"

“Alright.” Chrissy blushes and opens up, letting him slip the piece of bacon into her mouth. “Punk.” He goes back to his food with a triumphant grin and stops every so often to feed her more. Trying not to overdo it. That’s a bad idea without knowing exactly what the problem is. 

“Oh, man. You did it. I didn’t think it was possible but you pulled it off.” That gets him a puzzled look. “I’m full.” He sits back, patting his stomach. That’s after giving some of it away. 

“Good.” She giggles, taking their plates to the sink. He leans against the heel of his palm while watching her clean off the dishes. This is what it feels like, huh? Not bad. Not bad at all.

‘Come on.’

Seeing the time on the stove, he sighs heavily. It’s already 12:14. That’s a shame. It flew by too fast. “I, uh, gotta head out real soon. Promised Ms. H I’d stop by around noon to fix her sink and I got band practice." Her shoulders drop when he says that. 

“Ms. H?”

“Henderson’s mom. You know, that kid with curly hair in my club that always wears a hat?”

“One of the freshmen, right? He seems nice.” Eddie rolls his eyes at that. Henderson’s a chill dude even though he can be a snarky little butthead sometimes. “So you can draw, pick locks, fix sinks—”

“Shred like hell and roll a mean ass joint. Don’t forget that.” His lips curl up while staring at her back warmly.

“Silly me. How could I?” Putting the last dish into the strainer, she pushes up against the counter after drying her hands off. 

“I can do a lot more than that. I’m something of a handyman too. And a self–taught mechanic. Kinda. Well, amateur mechanic. Still working on that last part.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind for when I finally get a car.” That raises an interesting question. Why doesn’t she drive? The Cunninghams have money. Her dad could get her a nice ride like most of the preps. “A jack of all trades. You must be really skilled.” 

“What can I say? I’ve always been good with my hands. They’re my greatest asset.” Holding them up to show off, he notices the tinge of pink spreading across her face. Did she get something different from that? He gives her a sly look and is surprised when she saunters over. 

Eddie freezes as she comes closer, stopping right in front of him. Just gazing at his hands. He sucks in a sharp breath when she snatches up the left one and pulls it towards her. She turns it back and forth, studying it. Touching the rings and delicately tracing the lines on his palm with her fingertip.  

‘What’s she up to?’

Dark eyes dart from the woman holding his hand to the hand itself, unsure of what to do. Is she expecting him to do something? Is he supposed to? This has him rattled. It shouldn’t but it does. 

“It’s so much bigger than mine. Your fingers are long. I guess that’s good for playing guitar.” Is Chrissy trying to kill him? If that’s the case, she’s halfway there. From the images of her lingerie popping back up and this, he’s spiraling. What to do? This chick sends mixed signals sometimes. She dances along the fine line between acting innocent and being a tease.

‘Is she… hitting on me?’

“They’re good for a lot of things.” Goddammit. There he goes. Now it's like there’s a block of lead sitting in his chest. The fingers caressing his hand pause. Crap. Slowly, he glances up at her face, wondering what expression she’s wearing. It's closed off. She stares at him blankly, giving nothing away. It’s impressive and frustrating. Why is it when he wants to read her the most that she’s more difficult than usual?

“I’ll keep that in mind too.” She pats the back of his hand before stepping away, leaving him stunned. 

‘Gotta go.’

Eddie awkwardly gets up and grabs his jacket off the stool where he left it last night. Getting the message, she follows behind as he walks out of the kitchen. The length of the house seems so much longer compared to earlier. When they reach the front door, he slips on his sneakers in a hurry and avoids the flats beside them. 

“Thanks for everything. I’m really glad you came.” Chrissy smiles sadly. That makes him feel a hundred times worse.

“Of course. Wasn’t gonna let your birthday totally suck.” He pulls her in for a quick hug. Turns out to be not so quick. She wraps her arms around his waist and holds him there. Almost reluctant to let go. He doesn't want her to. “I’ll see you later.” 

“Okay.” 

Pursing his lips, he rushes out the door to the van. Cursing the whole way. It’s not until hopping into the driver’s side and slamming the door that any semblance of relief comes. His body is all jittery and warm. He looks at the house to see the front door closing. She’s out of sight. 

This blows. Whenever Chrissy’s around, he usually has two modes: cool guy or complete dumbass. It ends up being both more often than he'd like to admit. Now ‘coward’ can be added to the mix. For a person who likes jumping headfirst into stupid stuff all the time, he’s disappointed in himself. 

“Christ.” He starts the van and hits the gas to whip out of the driveway. What a doofus. Getting all goofy over that... He’s got magazines that are so much worse than anything she has in her room. Chicks at shows wear a lot less or end up that way. Nothing new. None of that fazes him. It’s only skin. Who cares? But she gets him so frazzled sometimes that it’s maddening. It doesn’t take much. 

Checking the rearview mirror, Eddie frowns at his reflection, flicking the side of it. “Fuckin’ wuss.” He needs to get it together. That can’t happen again. What was the point of everything if he turns into a big chicken shit when it counts? 

‘Next time… I’m not running.’

The book Eddie gave her as a present is interesting. No mentions of D&D yet but it's a fantasy. There’s a race called hobbits and a wizard named Gandalf. An old hobbit, Bilbo, has a huge party to celebrate his 111th birthday and after giving a speech, he disappears—literally—then heads home to pack for a journey. He has a special ring that allows him to become invisible. Gandalf insists the ring has to be left behind for Bilbo's cousin, Frodo, to keep safe. A promise the two agreed to in the past and Bilbo reluctantly follows through with it. 

Seventeen years pass before Gandalf pops up again to tell Frodo bad news. That ring is evil and bad guys will be coming by the Shire soon to find it. He joins up with a few other hobbits to set out on a mission to destroy the ring.

So far, so good. 

Laying on her stomach across the bed, Chrissy flips another page while humming a tune. This is what the Hellfire guys are into? No wonder they all have such wild imaginations. She swings her legs back and forth in the air, feeling fuzzy inside. He wanted her to have this to understand them better. Perhaps she'll get the other ones too. Clemen's should carry them.

It’s already close to midnight when she checks the clock. The bookmark sitting on the duvet is shoved into the book and it’s placed on the nightstand. She can find out more about Frodo’s adventure tomorrow. After dealing with a hangover, hanging out with Eddie, and spending two hours on a three-way call with Charlotte and Natalie, she’s tired. 

They have plans for Tuesday. Big ones. Charlotte agreed to take her to the BMV for the driving test. If all goes well, she’ll walk out of that building with her driver’s license. Thank goodness she has an amazing friend who's letting her practice in the Riviera for the next two days since she's rusty. 

A legal adult with a driver’s license. Her. It's right at her fingertips. All that’s left is a car and a high school diploma. The sky’s the limit at that point. These are the first steps to gaining independence and some freedom. She'll need to get a job to save up for a car. Eddie probably knows where to find a used one for cheap. 

Maybe it’s from being around him but it feels like the shackles have loosened up. They’re lighter. There's a little more slack. Can she slip out of them yet? Or is that being overly hopeful? He makes it seem possible. That anything is possible. As long as someone wants it bad enough then there's a chance. 

‘I like him.'

Chrissy doesn’t need to add ‘think’ to that sentence. It was a startling realization she didn't want to admit to herself. What a terrible thing to do. Her boyfriend would be furious. That’s not fair to him but there’s a remedy for that. 

Not having one. 

After last night and spending more time with Eddie today, she’s angry. Angry that Jason can’t understand her and doesn’t try to. Upset they couldn't move past a certain point. Guilty that she caused this and doesn't want to fix it. His so-called enemy notices when she’s uncomfortable yet he can’t after years of knowing each other. Unless he pretends not to.  

How is this supposed to work? She's never broken up with anyone before. Jason won’t take it well. That makes her nervous. It needs to be done in a semi-public place without a bunch of people around. Embarrassing him will make it worse. 

“Ugh!” Sliding to the edge of the bed, she gets up to head to the bathroom. This entire thing will suck no matter how it’s handled. And the reactions to it will be worse. It’s unavoidable. Forcing a relationship with a guy who disregards her comfort won't work out. Saturday night made it painfully clear what a future with him will be like. Never again.

Chrissy shuts the door behind herself and goes to stare in the mirror. She yanks out the green scrunchie holding her hair together so it flows along her shoulders, loose and wavy. It felt good to have someone run their fingers through it. 

If only he could be there when it happens... That would give her the confidence to stand her ground. It’d also start a fistfight. No, she can’t hide behind Eddie. Everything will be okay. He’ll be there after it’s over. Hopefully. This is one more thing that's confusing. Trying to figure out what’s going on between them. 

Does Eddie like her too? He does, right? Possibly? 

How embarrassing if that's not the case. They can still be friends though. She sighs and grabs her toothbrush. Fulfilling the nightly ritual while thinking things over. Another thought pops up. Say the feeling is mutual and she breaks it off with Jason… what then? 

It's weird to imagine Eddie being someone’s boyfriend. He might not do the whole relationship thing. She doesn’t remember him dating anyone at school. People would’ve lost it. Then again, with the bar and music scene, he has a completely different pool to play in.

‘I’m going to make myself upset. Stop it.’

None of that matters. It’s better to focus on what’s important like getting her license and a car. With that, she can start taking dance lessons again. The drive won’t be a big deal. Yeah. In the morning, she’ll talk to Jason. Get this straightened out. 

“Chrissy?” 

Every muscle tenses up hearing the soft voice. So sickly sweet, coated in honey to lure her out. That's how it always was at first. “Chrissy?” A lump forms in her throat. It's right outside of the door. “Come out, sweetie. Everyone is already downstairs in the parlor. I can’t wait until they see the dress I picked out for you.”  

‘It’s not real. This happened before. That isn’t her. It’s only a hallucination.'

“Chrissy!” A loud bang comes from the other side like a fist just slammed against it.

“Ah!” Backing away from the sink, she stares at the door wide-eyed, trembling from head to toe. A hand presses against her chest, trying to keep her racing heart from busting out. 

“Chrissy! This is the last time I’m warning you! Open. The. Door. NOW!” The lights start flickering, going berserk. Blows from the other side make the door shake, its handle rattling wildly. Something is trying to get in. 

“No, no, no…” The pounding keeps getting louder and angrier. Just like the voice. Chrissy backs up until her legs smack against the side of the tub and she falls into it. 

“Don’t you dare humiliate me in front of everyone! Get out here right this minute!”

“S–Stop! Stop! Go away!” She screams, pulling the curtain closed. Quickly pushing herself into the furthest corner. There’s nowhere to run. No phone to call anyone or window to escape through. The house is empty. No one’s around to help. Her hands cover her ears tightly as she whispers a small prayer. "Heavenly Father, I come to you in the name of Jesus, acknowledging your power and sovereignty. I pray for your divine protection—" 

“You ungrateful, spoiled brat! I told your father this would happen! Running the streets at night like a tramp. A worthless whore! What an embarrassment! Open the door, Chrissy! Or I’ll break it down then you’ll be sorry!”

“Go away! Please! Stop!” Curling into a ball to make herself as small as possible, she’s too scared to move. There isn't anywhere to move to. The door bursts open, slamming against the wall. An icy breeze rushes through the bathroom. Goosebumps break out across her skin from the chill in the air. A sob comes from the cheerleader cowering behind the curtain, certain that whatever is standing there won’t have any mercy on her. This time could be the last.    

The lights stop flashing. Chrissy tries to stifle her gasps enough to listen for any noises. Silence. A minute passes. Two. Then Five. Waiting in terror for what will come next. Is it sitting there until she comes out? Did it leave? Shaky fingers reach up to peel the edge of the curtain back to hesitantly peek from the side. Nothing is there. Just the bathroom door wide open.

Chrissy is not nearly as enthusiastic as usual when cheer practice begins. It’s Monday. This is only the first of three meetings the team has every week. Sometimes a game falls on one of those days but it depends on the schedule. Next Friday is the deciding match that determines if the Tigers are in the regionals. 

Her eyelids are so heavy. All she wants to do is yawn and lay down somewhere. Getting a wink of sleep last night was impossible. Who could? It was naive to assume it was over. The incident in the school bathroom wasn't that long ago. This is scary. Trying to convince herself none of it is real doesn't make it less frightening when it happens.  

‘Nothing is going how I hoped it would.’

Dealing with Jason didn’t go well either. Last night threw everything into chaos and she was still shaken up by the time he parked out front. It took a while for her to finally speak after hopping into the Jeep. One of the last places she wanted to be. That made it harder to find her voice. Perhaps mentioning they needed to talk set off alarm bells for him. Or he really wasn’t in the mood to have a conversation. 

“Can’t it wait? I just got done with my dad chewing me out again and we’re already running late.”

Not feeling as brave as the day before, the matter was dropped. Later. Jason normally gets his way so it'll have to wait like he said. In the meantime, she'll bury herself in cheerleading to stay busy. Going back to the basics is all she has at the moment. 

‘I’m tired.’ 

Hiding has always been easy. This time it’s behind a smile again instead of a tub. How much more of this can she take? Being stuck. Feeling trapped. Part of her wants to run away and never return. That's the coward inside poking its head up. Sure, there was a wonderful reprieve from everything for a bit. A small window into what could be. A life where she can explore, figure herself out, and have fun. Then reality comes to shake her awake from that beautiful dream. 

Still, people are staring at her right now who are waiting patiently for this pity party to end. She has responsibilities. The world doesn't revolve around her. It’s time to focus. She forces a smile and straightens out her pleated green skirt before beginning. 

“Okay, so I was thinking of a couple of routines we can work on. Something fresh for regionals coming up. Maybe we can have a new set for the finals too. If we make it there.” Chrissy looks around at the squad sitting on chairs. Her fingers grip the side of the large board she’s standing close to. Ms. Tina doesn’t come back until next week so it’s up to her to keep the show running. When she flips the large chalkboard over, there's a loud snort before laughter breaks out.

It’s contagious. This happens every time. She covers her mouth to hide the grin growing behind it. 

All eyes are on the chalk stick figures. It’s become a running joke at this point. She’s a terrible artist. Whenever they plan out positions or introduce new routines, this chalkboard is used to give the team a rough idea of how it’ll go along with an explanation. 

Chrissy is so bad at drawing that she creates the sloppiest stick figures in existence and it makes everyone laugh. Instead of getting upset, she leaned into it, making them more ridiculous as time went on. Now she gets a kick out of their reactions and it lightens up the mood. The team started looking forward to seeing what horrendous imagery she’d come up with next. 

Once it dies down and they get ahold of themselves, she dives right into a step–by–step breakdown. This final month is going to suck. It pains her to admit it but some of Ms. Tina’s suggestions aren’t the best. The moves have seemed sort of… lackluster this season. Not that she wants to tell her that. Chrissy expects more pizzazz and knows the team can do it. They've butt heads a few times over it since the school year began. 

‘As long as I’m captain, this team isn’t going out in front of everyone to do boring routines. It’ll put people to sleep.’

“She was being such a pain in the ass. It's a dollar fifty and I said I'd give it back.” 

The Hellfire crew sitting at the lunch table snicker at Wheeler’s complaints. Something about Nancy bitching him out for snagging quarters for the arcade again. Come on. His sister doesn't seem like the type to be chill. Another one of those strait-laced girls who do their homework as soon as they get home and listen to curfew. 

"That's where you messed up. You have to make sure you do it when there's zero chance of getting caught. That's rule number one. Rule number two is deny, deny, deny. Never admit to anything. Right?" Gareth nudges him in the side. 

A loud giggle makes his ears perk up. 

"Yep." Eddie’s not paying much attention to what they’re saying now. He’s too irked. Attempting to be discreet, he sneaks a peek at Chrissy again. She’s acting weird and not in a good way. They haven’t talked at all since Sunday when he left to go to Henderson’s. Not a word passed between them. No calls either, unless his uncle took the phone off the hook when he was out.

It’s not a big deal. Since this whole thing started, there were plenty of patches where they did their own thing. But they’d still look at each other. After her birthday, he thought things might be different. No, they're worse. He even bumped into her on purpose twice since going back to school and she kept on walking with her head down. The second time almost knocked her over which got him cursed out by that redheaded chihuahua the moment she was out of sight. He deserved it so no hard feelings. 

Dropping all pretenses, he openly stares at her from across the cafeteria. Like if he does it hard enough she'll get a psychic jolt from him. Nope, not working. She’s sitting there chatting while dipshit Carver has his arm wrapped around her shoulders. Such a cute couple. Blegh. That’s another problem. Getting her alone in this place is damn near impossible. There’s always someone trailing close by. It’s annoying. What can he expect from the Queen of Hawkins High? The sweet captain who's nice to everyone?

‘They don’t know the real her.’

Chrissy is sweet and nice to people but that mask she’s wearing to make everyone else comfortable bothers him. He wants to smash it. She’s not fucking fine. The shadows beneath her eyes are noticeable from a mile away. He also caught her slipping food onto some girl's tray when they weren’t paying attention. 

‘She’s getting bad again.’

That’s none of his business. He’s not her boyfriend. Just a friend. Sorta. More like another dirty little secret. Expecting anything else was stupid. It’s why he told himself not to get his hopes up from the beginning but he’s a stubborn idiot who doesn’t listen. 

“Did you see that special 60 Minutes did on D&D?” Gareth asks before taking a sip from a juice carton. That grabs his attention and ire. “Such bullcrap. Now my mom’s all paranoid.”

Jeff shakes his head. They’ve all heard about it. People already get their panties in a twist over the club’s chosen hobby. “You can tell none of them ever played it. I gotta admit though, the way they made it sound was pretty metal. It's the blowback I'm gettin' sick of.”

“They don’t know what they’re talking about.” Henderson lets out a deep breath, grabbing a tater tot from his tray. 

“We’re not hurting anyone. It’s only a game.” 

“Yeah, a fantasy game.” Eddie snorts. His irritation level is climbing at an alarming rate. This is getting real old real fast. That dumb special is adding fuel to the fire. Squares from across the country all sit on their couches every night to watch cable and drink the Kool-Aid without a second thought. People are actually buying into this crap. They're salivating at the idea of having something 'wicked' to clutch their pearls over. “We’re the freaks because we play a game they don’t understand. Sounds about right!” Smacking his hands down, he pushes out his chair and puts a foot on the edge of the table to hop up.

The others know exactly what’s about to happen. Their faces give it away, especially the excited lambs. His bandmates expect nothing less. It’s time to give it to them again. He’s angry now and needs to let out some steam. 

“Everything else is cool though! Wanna whack it to formulas and test tubes? Fine.” He steps around the trays on the table, walking towards the end. Closer to the middle of the room to address the masses properly. It earns him a wide array of reactions as the students realize what's going on. Annoyance, disgust, rolling their eyes, cracking their knuckles. Go ahead. Try him. He’s not in the mood. 

“Drink and dance to Billboard bullshit? Aye okay, man!” The science geeks and party kids glare at him. The latter gets a big thumbs up. Screw them even if they’re great for business. They know. If they want their party favors, don’t mess with the dealer. It’s that simple. No one has a hissy fit over their hobbies so why does his club get such a bad rap? That’s not fair. Nothing is ever fair.  

“How about chasing asses and dribbling balls? Perfect!” He cups his hands and gets louder, aiming his blade right at the jock table. The group that gets on his nerves the most. “God forbid someone doesn’t toe the line! Maybe we don’t want to keep our mouths shut like good little boys. We’re not a bunch of frauds!”

His gaze lands on the cheerleader sitting at the table. Right next to the head basketball douche who's absolutely pissed. Those big blue eyes are fixed on him. Finally, he’s got her attention. It only took a couple friggin’ days. “Some of us are okay being ourselves and doing what we want instead of always ignoring shit and pretending everything’s just peachy keen!”

Eddie’s an idiot. He knows that and won't deny it. That’s caused him a lot of trouble over the years. This time, he really fucked up. Got too ticked off from stewing in his feelings and let it fly without thinking. 

Chrissy stares at him for a moment before her bottom lip starts to quiver. He can tell she's about to tear up. Can a person wilt? That's what's happening. She looks away from him and down at her lap. 

‘Shit, shit, shit!’

“You got a problem, freak?” Captain Toolbox is heading this way. Eddie's pissed enough to scowl and spit as it is. Not only at this dumbass but himself. How can he not realize how that sounded all together? 

After taking it this far, he’s got to follow through by doing what Carver hates most. Throwing up the devil horns and wagging his tongue, grinning as the captain seethes. The club members laugh and carry on behind him. This isn’t out of the ordinary. They’ve done this stand-up routine plenty of times by now. 

“Asshole,” Carver mutters under his breath, stomping off like he's being the bigger person. That this is beneath him. When he takes his seat, Chrissy tries to get up, probably to run somewhere to cry. But he pulls her back down and whispers in her ear. Whatever he said was enough to get her to stay there, keeping her eyes lowered. 

Eddie’s frown deepens as everyone goes back to their lunch now that prime time is over. They’re all waiting for the day it ends in a fight. The vultures. Marching along the table, he flops in his chair and grabs some trail mix from his bag. That set things back a few steps. Might've totally wrecked it. Wouldn’t be the first time his big mouth ruined something for him. 

“What was that?” Henderson scoots over. This isn’t about the rant itself. That’s not too wild. No, he’s a perceptive one. 

“Nothing.” He says gruffly, biting down on a pretzel twist harder than necessary.

Chrissy smiles softly at the shiny card in her hands. She did it. She got her driver’s license. The test itself wasn’t bad. This could’ve been done over a year ago if only her dad signed the paperwork. It's okay. That's all in the past. No one needs to give her permission anymore. 

“We should celebrate.” Charlotte reaches over to mess with her fringe. This would've been so much harder without having girlfriends there to be supportive. They were such a big help with everything. Her face was red as a stop sign when they hopped around and cheered in the BMV after finding out she passed. 

“Yes!” Natalie pokes her head out from the backseat. "What do you want to do?"

“Whatever you guys want.” As long as it doesn’t involve going home yet. She’s too worn out to care. The pick-me-up from the coffee they got on the way up is long gone. 

“Let’s go shopping then hit up the theater. There’s a romantic comedy I wanted to check out. Does that sound good?” Charlotte tosses her hair back, already turning onto the highway. 

“Yeah, I’m game.” Sliding the license into her purse, Chrissy sighs and stares out at the woods alongside the road. A romantic comedy will hit the spot. Or not. Her own love life isn’t going so great. 

‘Why did he say that?’

She sinks in the seat, disheartened. Eddie must be mad at her. Is it because she didn’t break up with Jason yet? It’s not from a lack of trying. There have already been a handful of attempts that keep ending the same way. He acts dodgy or changes the subject. None of this is easy. This is all new to her and things haven’t been going well either. 

Another issue has her nervous to go through with it. The Tigers are in the middle of a tournament. Regionals are so close. The school’s paper, The Weekly Streak, runs updates about the team’s progress. So does the local news. People are invested. Winning this and breaking the twenty–two–year losing streak is a big deal. It’ll bring media attention and funds from the state to their corner of the woods. Hawkins High hasn’t had this many eyes on it in a long time. 

If she ends it with Jason and the team loses, they’ll get booted from the championships. It won't matter how it would've turned out. Everyone and their mother will blame her. They'll say getting dumped messed up his performance. Why did she do it? Why couldn’t it wait a month until the tournament was over? It’ll be a constant string of abuse from all sides. 

There's also her dad. He'd be positively livid. 

The shackles are getting tighter, dragging her down even further. She’s trapped. There’s no way out that ends well. Running away isn’t an option. Having a driver’s license isn't much use without a car. And what if she does? What then? She’s never had a job and doesn’t know how to get a place. None of the money in the account is hers. Nothing is. Where does someone start? 

It all feels useless.

To top it off, she keeps having bad thoughts lately. Ones that genuinely scare her. They pop up out of the blue like a voice whispering terrible things in her ear, trying to egg her on. There's a lot of stuff she’s afraid of. Spiders, the dark, deep bodies of water, bats, ghosts, small spaces, snakes. Finding herself on that list is horrifying.

‘I need help.’

Eddie’s right. She is a fraud who ignores stuff and pretends everything’s okay. Chrissy already knows that. Hearing it come from him really hurt. It’s taking the part of herself she despises the most and shoving it in her face with everyone watching. 

That broke her heart. Those are things he hates about people. She wanted to run to the bathroom and cry but Jason wouldn’t let her. He said not to go or it’ll give Eddie the satisfaction of knowing his rant got under their skin. As if he doesn't show that time and time again. Everyone can see how mad he gets when they have a spat in the cafeteria.  

“What’s wrong, Chris? Are you not feeling it?” Charlotte peers at her from above those large sunglasses. 

“That's not it. I'm excited! I was thinking about what kind of outfit I want to get.” 

If only she could be completely open with them... with anyone. 

“Let me get another one.” Eddie downs the rest of his beer and slaps it on the counter, sucking in a big gulp of air.

“You sure about that, bud? You still gotta get up there.”

“Yeah, just keep ‘em coming.” Who cares? He can play like crazy even in a coma. A few beers won’t affect his performance.  

“Okay, man.” Dom shakes his head and grabs another bottle to slide down the bar. The glass clangs against his rings when he puts out a hand to stop it, gripping it tightly. 

‘You don’t know when to shut the fuck up, huh?’

His big stupid mouth always causes trouble. No wonder nothing ever works out for him. That goes for chicks, too. It’s gotten him bitch slapped before. That sucked. Unless it’s music or peddling crap, he’s good for nothing.  

‘Wouldn’t blame her if she never talked to me again.’

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. It wasn’t meant to go that way. When she finally looked at him, he switched gears to give her a push and make sure she didn’t forget about him but it was all part of the same tirade. She probably thinks most of it was directed at her. No way. Still, Chrissy was two seconds from crying. That wasn’t supposed to happen. It’s something dickhead would do. Not him.

“Hey, we gotta start setting up.” Gareth puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Gotcha.” He quickly finishes his drink and slides off the stool to follow his bandmates. They’re going on soon. Another wonderful Tuesday night at The Hideout.

“That was… intense,” Jeff says as they come out to the main area of the bar. The lights haven’t been switched back yet. Everything’s bathed in red. How strangely fitting. 

“You sure were going all out.” Grant pipes up, elbowing him in the side. The big guy only gets a lazy nod in response.

Eddie’s drenched. Sweat dripping from the tips of his curly hair and seeping through the band shirt he’s wearing. That’s normal after playing. Perhaps not this bad though. The black bandana gets yanked out to wipe his face off. It’s obvious what they’re implying. He was rough on the strings. Too rough. Even if they’re new, abuse like that will wear them down. 

“Go hard or go home. That's what they say.” He grins and tries to laugh it off. If anyone understands how to not mistreat a guitar, it’s him. That's his thing. For the second time today, he was acting out and letting his emotions hop in the driver’s seat. 

Dom sets some beers down on the counter. Bands that play here get the first round free. The second too if Donna likes them enough. Regulars who keep coming back can start a tab after a while. He’s had one since sophomore year that eventually gets paid off. No point shooting himself in the foot. 

“Donna, can you give me something stronger?” Playing over the last hour sobered him up a bit. That won’t do. The dark-haired woman looks up from the drink she’s already making, arching a brow. 

“Anything in particular?”

“Nah, just nothing sweet. You know what? Let me get a few shots. Your choice.” It doesn’t matter. He’s in a rotten mood. First, the water is jacked up back home. That happens. Not an unusual occurrence in the park. It can last a couple of hours or days. There’s no telling. He can’t even take a shower without going to someone else's place.

Then there was an argument with the drama teacher at school about using the room for their meetings. She’s claiming they left messes behind and small props have mysteriously disappeared. Horseshit. Eddie always makes sure everything is straight for that reason. These hacks aren't getting one over on him. He's got their number. They'll use any excuse to give his club the boot. That was the only room he could secure and Hellfire can't officially continue without it. Their group won't meet the club requirements anymore. Higgins wouldn't pass up the chance to force them to disband. 

That idiotic 60 Minutes special didn’t help. All it did was stir up fear and paranoia about D&D tenfold since it aired. Trying to connect it to cults and Satan worship. Numbskulls will believe anything they hear. It's not lost on him that Ms. W was more sympathetic to the club's situation until that damn episode premiered. What a coincidence.

Last but certainly not least is this issue with Chrissy. He was hoping she’d show up to see him play again. Wishful thinking. Knowing her, she’ll avoid him like the plague so things don’t get awkward. 

‘Tough titty. I’m gonna talk to her tomorrow.’

When Donna puts a double shot glass on the bar and pours some whiskey, she studies him but he focuses on his rings instead. The open bottle is set down on the counter and she walks away.

‘She’s the best.’

He throws back the shot and grimaces, smacking his lips together. The heat pooling in his stomach feels good. Later? Probably not so much. Glancing down the row, his bandmates are talking with some dudes at the end of the bar. A handful of newbies. Any other time he'd be right with them. It’s just not a good night.

Pulling out his pack, he lights up a cigarette and takes a drag. Drinking isn't the same without a smoke. One more shot down. Another poured. Rinse and repeat.

“What’s wrong, Eddie?” Donna sighs, leaning on the counter.

“Nothing. Don’t you got customers to take care of?” It comes out harsher than intended. That might earn him a smack. 

“Dom can handle it. Besides, seeing you being a sulky little shit over here is distracting. What’s up? You’re usually causing me problems, not behaving.” 

“Can’t a guy just sit here and drink?” He wants to be left alone. Sometimes a person needs time and space to think things through. Or mope. It’s better to do it with some alcohol. Maybe that’ll help him sort out his feelings. 

“Cut the crap. Now what’s the matter? Is it the girlfriend?”

He frowns at that. “Chrissy’s not my girlfriend.” 

“Oh, I know. She’s already got a boyfriend or so I’ve heard.” Her lips curl up like she tastes something nasty. 

Eddie glances at the guys again. Those rats. But there's no use getting mad at them. Donna’s pushy and nosy as hell. It’d take her two minutes to pressure his bandmates into spilling their guts. 

“Wish I knew that last week. I would’ve had a chat with her.” She says, pouring herself a shot. “I warned her not to do anything that would hurt you.”

“Can you not? She isn't the problem. I am.” The last thing he needs is Chrissy getting scared off because of her, even if she means well. He does a great job of screwing things up on his own without any help. 

“Doubt it. You’re a good dude. A bit of a mess and a major pain in the ass but still a good dude.”

“Sure.” He scoffs. Yeah right. Good dudes don’t make chicks cry. They don’t run away with their tail between their legs. It's clear what he is. “We’re only friends so none of that matters.”

“Bull. You’ve been coming here for what? Five or six years? Something like that. I know how you are.” She gives him that sharp look that’s super annoying, tapping her fingers against the glass.

“Donna,” He runs a hand through his sweaty mop, exasperated. “You’re ruining the whiskey. I really don’t wanna talk about this.” His brow furrows. The framed Iron Maiden album poster above the row of liquor bottles is starting to get fuzzy.

That was too much. He was downing beers like it was his job after walking through the door. Since getting offstage, he’s had multiple double shots—the counting stopped at three—and is about to do more. Eddie was already hot before and now he’s roasting alive in his skin. There’s a layer of sweat across his body that's getting worse. He grabs the bandana to give it another go. 

“Nothing ruins whiskey except for grenadine but I think you’ve had enough.” Donna goes to grab the bottle and he snatches it up, pouring it right into his mouth. “You son of a bitch!” She lunges over the counter to wrestle it from him and isn't given much of a fight. “I’m gonna kick your ass.” The threat is hissed menacingly as she stomps off, taking the whiskey with her. There’s a real beatdown waiting for him once he's sober.

“Fuck.” Stifling a burp, he struggles to sit on the stool without swaying to the side. Yep. He overdid it. The guys will have to carry his ass home. At least the beer Dom gave him is still here. Go hard or go home, right?

His eyelids are heavy as his head falls back, staring up at the ceiling. There are more lights in this bar than he remembers. They’re a lot brighter too. Who the hell did that? Assholes. Groaning, he pushes himself forward to rest against the counter. It was a bad idea to rush it instead of taking his time. Donna would've left the bottle behind instead of taking off with it if he wasn't being a moron. 

‘I wanna see Chrissy.’

That’s not going to happen. He’s too messed up. It might end with him driving the van through her place. If he made it there at all. Very unlikely. He’d probably find himself wrapped around a pole before getting anywhere near that side of town. A bunch of stupid crap would spew out of his mouth if they were face-to-face like this.  

“Hey, Munson.”

A hand slaps against Eddie’s back and he groggily lifts his head to see who’s bothering him. It’s Jax. As usual, the guy’s extremely drunk. “Whaddya want?” 

“Chill out. I’m not here to fight. Anyway—” He checks to make sure Donna and Dom are busy. “I brought a peace offering. Eh? Eh?”

‘This motherfucker.’

“Whatever, dude.” Eddie watches him carefully as he pours the whiskey. This guy isn't trustworthy. Hasn’t been for a long time. He shifts his focus to the liquor, inspecting it for any irregularities before lifting the glass and sniffing the edge. 

“Really? Gimme a break. I didn’t do nothin’ to it. We haven’t talked in a while. Figured it wouldn’t hurt.”

“It might. And we haven’t talked because you’re always pushing my buttons”  

“Chyeah. Can't deny that. Got some crazy stuff going on. Anywho! Why don’t we do shots and let bygones be bygones?” 

Eddie holds his gaze and takes the shot. It burns like it’s supposed to. Tastes fine. Seems okay. Jax doesn’t. He’s wasted, having a hard time keeping upright. His appearance is more disheveled than ever. Stringy hair, gaunt, bags beneath his eyes, probably hasn't slept much in the last couple of days. The dude’s going through it.  

“Fine.” Sighing, he puts the glass back on the counter to get refilled. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to give him a small chance and see how it goes since he's making an effort.

“Jax! Don’t you dare give him any more to drink!” Donna shrieks from down the bar. He stares at her while filling the glass, almost spilling it over. “You—!” Eddie quickly downs it before she gets to them. An arm reaches over to pluck the bottle out of his hands. Thwarted again.

“Alright, guys. Glad you’re talking and all but you’re flagged. Both of you are one sip away from falling off your seats. If I have to drive one of you to the hospital, I'm gonna be pissed.” Dom swoops in to whisper. “You’re worrying Donna. Cut it out or I'll bust your heads in.” 

“Tch. Buzzkill.” Jax glowers at the man's back as he walks away. After a moment, there's a glint in his eyes and he begins patting his jacket, checking the pockets. His hand reemerges from the inner one grasping a nip of vodka. “I gotta few more. Ya want one?” 

He shakes his head. Dom’s not wrong. Needing to go to the hospital would be so lame. Having his stomach pumped is a waste of good alcohol. 

“Sorry about last week, man. Wasn’t tryin' to start a fight in front of your girlfriend. Sometimes my mouth runs like a duck’s behind.” 

Eddie arches a brow. Last week? A fight in front of his girlfriend? He’s got a girlfriend? Nice. His eyes dart back and forth across the wall, replaying the last week. Oh. That asshole made a scene and called Chrissy a hot demon girl. Jax is right about one thing. She’s smokin' hot. It’s none of that guy’s business though. And she isn’t a demon. 

“Not my girlfriend.” If this needs to be said again, he's gonna burst into flames and take this whole place with him. Why is everyone making him repeat himself? 

“No? Good.”

A muscle in his cheek twitches. What’s that supposed to mean? Maybe they can't get along after all. Alcohol or not.

“You’re better off staying away from that chick. Ain’t nothing but trouble.” 

Chrissy? His Chrissy? He can't help laughing. Who could say something so dumb with a straight face? Eddie's the trouble. Not her. She’s an angel. Still, regulars at the bar are wary of his ‘warnings’. Despite being a dope, the guy has a bad habit of being on point when it counts. The whole broken clock thing. “The hell you talkin’ about?” 

“The moment I looked at her… I could see it. She’s cursed. If you’re smart, you’ll dip now before it’s too late. It’ll save ya from a world of pain.”

The slight grin on his face fades. He must be too drunk. There’s some weird shit being said that’s genuinely pissing him off. If Jax was smart, he would’ve stopped talking about Chrissy already. His eyes narrow on the guy to warn him to knock it off. 

“...Now would be a good time to stop.”

But he doesn’t. “That girl. She ain’t long for this world if you catch my drift. Poor thing.”

Eddie grabs Jax by the lapels and shoves him up against the bar. “What the fuck did you just say?!” From the alcohol, the taunts over the last month, all that's going on outside the bar, and now him blubbering stuff about her being cursed or dying or whatever, he’s too angry to think straight. Who wants to hear crap like that? This might be the first time he really wanted to smash someone’s face in. How long would he get in the slammer for strangling a man? 

“Woah, dude! Chill! It’s not my fault!” Jax holds his hands up defensively, somehow shocked at the turn this took. Putting on an innocent act after dropping garbage like that into his lap. 

Dom hops over the counter with a bat in hand. “Alright! Break it up! Don’t make me use the Alkie Bat, guys. Enough. Let ‘em go.” 

Of course. When he finally takes the bait, now this guy isn't in the mood to throw down. Eddie glares at him, clenching his jaw and fists. This is bullshit. Scoffing, he reluctantly lets go. Jax isn’t worth having a date with the Alkie Bat. That thing is nasty. Whatever Dom is saying goes in one ear and out the other. Screw this. Screw everyone. Turning away, he storms out of the bar without another word.

“Idiot.”

“They’re both idiots.” Donna huffs, zipping up her jacket. She has to hurry and get out there before he does something stupid like trying to drive home. Why can't Jax shut up? Always has to push it until people snap. 

Rushing out the front door, she sighs in relief seeing the van in the parking lot. The driver’s side door is wide open. Great. He didn’t leave. There’s no reason to have a heart attack yet. She marches across the asphalt while working on a plan about how to handle this. It's a lot easier when it’s just customers. Not one of her boys. 

“Eddie?” Jesus. She exhales sharply when her eyes land on him. He's slumped in his seat with the keys in the ignition and his arms crossed over his chest like a pouty brat. 

“Leave me alone.” 

Yep. He's sulking but it's better than taking off. “What do you think you’re doing?” 

“What’s it look like?” Dragging himself up against the seat, he clicks his tongue and turns the keys, starting up the van. “I’m gonna run Jax over.” 

“Not in my bar you’re not.” The only place he’s going is one of the backrooms to sleep this off, even if that means hopping in there to stop him.

“Well, instead of standing there yammering, go move your damn bar out of the way!” Eddie angrily waves her off. 

Donna stares at him in disbelief, questioning her own ears. Holy shit. He’s completely wasted. Not the fun type of drunk like usual. The pissy, impatient, dumb, becoming an entire handful kind of wasted. “C’mon. Take the keys out and let’s go inside. You’re in no state to drive.” She holds out her hand and motions for him to cough them up. There’s no way she’s letting him drive drunk. He’s not killing himself on her watch. 

“No.” 

'Goddammit.'

“Eddie, please. I’m telling you now that you won’t make it home.” This is partly her fault. Handing over a bottle of whiskey to someone who looked so miserable was stupid. It was supposed to help. Not make things worse. 

“I’m not going home.” He pulls out a pack and a shaky hand sticks a cigarette in the corner of his mouth. It takes a few tries for the lighter to actually find the end, missing by a hair each time. 

“Then where do you plan on driving to?” 

“I’m going to Chrissy’s. Gonna ride up on my stallion.” Eddie chuckles and pats the dashboard affectionately. This kid is too much. He normally chills with a couple of beers and has a good time. Screwing around. Laughing. The good stuff. It’s been a while since she’s seen him this shitfaced. 

“That’s a terrible idea. No sober person wants to deal with a drunk. You’re only going to embarrass yourself. Why don’t you come in and sleep it off? Dom can take the guys home. Okay?” She says softly, hoping to coax him inside. 

“No. Need to talk to her. I messed up.”

“That can wait until tomorrow. She’s not going anywhere.” Hopefully he’ll get distracted and drop the idea entirely. So that's what all the moodiness earlier was about. Either she's missing something or hell froze over. “Anyway, doesn’t she have a boyfriend?” For a person who avoids dealing with crap, it’s surprising he’d bother. What is he thinking getting involved in that kind of bullshit? It's just asking for trouble.

“Yeah, so? Big whoop.” Taking a long drag, he tilts his head back and blows the smoke toward the ceiling. “She might be his girlfriend right now, but she’s gonna be my wife.” 

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?! Do you even know what you’re saying?” This brat has a chick come to see him play one time and is spitting nonsense after getting some alcohol in his system. 

“Nope.” 

“That's it. Let’s go inside. If you sober up a bit, I might let you use the phone.” If that will get him out of there and back into the bar, then whatever. She’s not that much of an ass to let him drunk-dial someone, especially if he’s already talking crazy. He could wake up engaged or with a restraining order.

Eddie jerks his head to the side and stares at her for a few moments. What a sweaty heap. Nothing some sleep, water, and aspirin won’t fix. To her horror, he puts his foot down on the break and grabs the stick shift, not taking his eyes off of her.  

“No! Don't do that! Just get out and come inside!” Donna begins panicking, trying to think of what to do. Taking shots herself was a bad idea. This is exactly why. The van lurches forward and comes to a stop. Then does it again. And again. A smirk spreads across his face as he keeps putting his foot on the pedal and removing it.  

‘You shithead!’

“What’s wrong, Donna?” Does he think this is funny? Trying to scare her to death? From his expression, this asshat finds it hilarious. 

“I’m gonna beat the crap out of you.”

“In that case…” He takes his foot off the break and lets the van crawl, making a wide turn with the door still open. 

“This isn’t funny!” Unbelievable. Eddie’s laughing and driving around her as she rubs her forehead irritably. Getting Dom out here with the bat should change his mind. That usually sets everyone straight. Seeing it alone is enough.

“Ughh!” The van abruptly stops and he jerks forward, grabbing onto the steering wheel tightly. His complexion turns unnaturally pale before hanging out of the open door, heaving.

‘Dumbass. He made himself sick from driving in circles.’

“Okay, fine. You wanna play this game? If you don’t get out of the van and place the keys in my hand nicely, I’m giving your band’s slot away. Maybe I’ll switch you and Jax back. I’m sure he’d love that.” That gets his attention. He looks up at her with a hand covering his mouth, eyes wide, and face white as a ghost. It almost makes her feel bad. If false threats do the trick, then cool. A minute doesn't even pass by the time he's parked and climbing out.

“That’s what I thought,” Donna says as the keys are dropped in her palm. He’s stumbling all over the place so she puts an arm around his waist to help him along. 

“...I feel like shit.”

“You look like shit, too.” That makes him chuckle. She takes him the long way around the building in case he needs to throw up and so the others don't see him like this. Also to avoid a run-in with Jax again. After seeing how aggressively he was playing tonight, she should’ve known better than to give him all that liquor without keeping an eye out. That was a huge mistake on her part. 

‘That’s not happening again.’

Chapter Text

When the Jeep pulls into a spot away from the other cars, Chrissy closes her eyes and counts to ten. The stress keeps mounting with each passing minute. That's been the case since they left the house. She needs to put her foot down and get this over with. It's day three of making small attempts that have gone nowhere. He will hear her out. No more excuses.

'I don’t want to be a coward anymore.'

Jason barely said a word the whole ride to school. All they did was listen to songs on the radio. From how he’s acting, there’s a chance he has an idea of what’s coming. It’s been awkward and quiet between them after that night. Good. At least she’s not the only one uncomfortable with this. 

As soon as the music is off and his seatbelt unfastened, Chrissy knows this is her chance. “Hold on. We need to talk.” The confidence she's hanging onto starts slipping away when his gaze lands on her. No. This has to be done.

“It can wait until later. The bell’s going to ring soon and I have to talk to Patrick about something.”  

That isn't true. It's an excuse to push off what she has to say again. Nothing else can wait but he expects her to. “No, it can’t. I’ve been trying to talk to you for three days and you keep saying the same things.” 

“Fine. What is it?” He fully turns in his seat, and gathering her scattered thoughts is harder. There was a game plan. She went over what she'd say like it was lines from a script for a huge role. “Well?”

“I, um…” His knee rocking to the side is distracting. Another sign of how annoyed he is. “If you’re not going to say anything, then I’m getting out.”

Chrissy fidgets and sucks in a deep breath. His impatience is making her more anxious. He's going to be so mad. It could be a repeat of Saturday night. “I think… maybe… I don’t…”

“You think what? Tell me.” He's tense. Alert and on edge. Guilt fills her for a moment. She remembers the good times they had, even before they started dating. Going to school football games with friends. Meeting up to check out movies at the theater. Complaining about their parents together. They made sense. Giving in to pressure was a terrible mistake. She tried to love him. It just isn't there. 

“That… we should go our separate ways.”

Jason’s jaw goes slack. He stares at her, horrorstruck, not saying anything. Her assumption was wrong. That reaction gives away that he wasn't expecting this at all. She can see the wheels turning in his head through those light blue eyes. 

What happens now? Is she supposed to wait for him to respond or get out to leave? It would've been better to ask a friend for advice on how to handle these kinds of situations first. 

“No.”

“No?” Chrissy is stunned. Was that an option? She didn't consider this a possibility. When a person breaks up with someone it’s not supposed to be negotiable, right? 

“I said no.” Hearing it once more doesn’t help either. “Who have you been talking to? I bet it was Charlotte. Is that where this is coming from?” 

“W-What?” She’s too shocked to think clearly. The way he's looking at her changed. Like the perfect image he's been marveling at for so long finally shattered to reveal something wretched in its place. “No. No one did anything. I decided it on my own.”

“Don’t lie to me, Chris. I know how you are.” He scoffs, becoming increasingly agitated. His fingers keep rubbing against themselves and she wonders if he’s trying to resist balling his hands into fists. Flipping out won’t help. They’re also in the school parking lot. People are around. “You wouldn’t do something like that. We have plans. You… You’re not that selfish. This isn’t like you.”

“I’m sorry but that’s how I feel. I can’t control it.” She says quietly, hoping he might understand. This should’ve happened sooner. Waiting so long wasn’t the right thing to do. They made plans for college figuring they’d go together. If she’d done this months ago, perhaps he would've taken a different path. Gone somewhere else. There's hardly any time to start over and switch everything up. It’s already the beginning of March. 

“Yes! Yes, you can. Everyone can control their feelings so start doing it. Get these stupid ideas out of your head.” Jason drags a hand down his face. He's done with this conversation and quickly gets out while she grabs her bookbag off the floor, wanting to do the same. The door is slammed shut hard enough to make her jump before he storms off without another word.  

Chrissy stands next to the Jeep, staring at the back of the white and green varsity jacket as it gets further away. Are they broken up? She’s confused and upset. Putting the bookbag on the ground, she crouches down to unzip it, pulling out her walkman. This helps block the world out. The headset is slipped on and she hits the play button, desperately needing a distraction to stop herself from losing it in public. 

The mixtape is a great gift. Side A doesn’t have a single song that she doesn’t enjoy. The order is committed to heart. Numbers five and six are Fleetwood Mac songs. ‘Go Your Own Way’ and ‘The Chain’. Exactly what she’s in the mood for, despite how down she gets seeing the walkman now. There's no point in not using it. It was a present after all. 

Shuffling through the parking lot, Chrissy grimaces at the sight of the old van across the way. They passed by it after pulling in. Eddie had a similar idea as Jason—parking away from the other cars—but for very different reasons. It’s doubtful he cares about getting a few scratches or dings. 

To her surprise, the back doors are open and he's leaning up against one with Joey next to him. Of course, facing the opposite direction of the school. Spotting those two together should be strange. It would be if one wasn’t a drug dealer and the other a party animal. 

And they’re both looking at her as she walks by, not even attempting to be less obvious. Act casual. Go back to normal. She tries and when Joey waves, she turns her head the other way, refusing to acknowledge either man. Not with him there. It’s not nice but she’s hurting.  

How long were they watching? Their position gave them a clear view of the Jeep. Maybe the door slam caught their attention. The sadness permeating through her deepens. Before, she hoped to get support from Eddie with this. Knowing what he really thinks of her changes things. It’d be pathetic to run to him after that. She's frustrated that a part of her wants to so badly. 

Chrissy thinks she hears someone yell out from behind and brushes it off. Might be Joey messing around over getting ignored. The volume on the walkman is cranked up and she keeps going. The only people who matter at this moment are the members of Fleetwood Mac. 

“Everyone can control their feelings so start doing it.”

Start controlling her feelings? Start?! That’s all she’s been doing for years. It’s what is stopping her from crying and screaming or doing something reckless, fully aware there are plenty of people outside. She’s angry. More than angry. Livid. 

How dare he? Clenching her teeth, thoughts of what happened in the Jeep on her birthday resurface. Jason has no clue. Not a single idea about what it’s like to control himself to that extent. To the point of being numb and checking out. She’s seen him fly off the handle at small stuff like dropping a basketball. To say all of that while telling her they’re not breaking up… Writing off everything she said as stupid ideas that someone else put into her head… 

‘You bastard.’

Why does it feel like they just had cheer practice yesterday? That was two days ago. It's Wednesday so here they are again. Everything is a little off. Probably because this week has been awful.

“So when Val and Kimmy do round-offs at these ends, Dave and Ryan will stand here while Amber does a spread-eagle jump. They’ll catch her legs and take—”

“Hang on,” Amber folds her arms. “Why am I the one always doing the big jump? Couldn’t someone else do it?” She taps her foot impatiently against the leg of her chair “Like you?” An awkward silence fills the large room as everyone’s focus is on her. 

Chrissy stares at the blonde with a vacant expression. No one usually interrupts her explanations mid-sentence. They normally wait for a pause or do something to get her attention first. She's having a bad day so far and it won't be getting any better. 

Natalie scoots her seat forward to scowl at Amber around Ryan. “Dummy. We always have the head cheerleader at the center of a routine. You know that.”  

“Since when did you have a problem doing the jumps?” Sandy chimes in, running her fingers through her dark hair. 

“No one asked you two! I'm talking to Chris. Butt out!” 

Sitting in the front row, Charlotte blows a large bubble with her gum and pops it. “Not a fan of the attitude, junior.” 

“Shut it, bimbo.”

An argument breaks out from one end to the other. Too many voices that keep getting louder, making her wince. If there’s one thing that bothers her, it’s yelling. She’s heard enough of it to last a lifetime. 

‘This isn’t good. I need to do something. Everyone’s getting mad.’

“Guys, guys! Knock it off!” The biggest offenders quiet down and sit back in their seats, shooting daggers at each other. “Okay. Nat, please don’t call anyone names. That won't help. Same goes for everyone else.” The redhead flushes guiltily. “No one needs to get upset. We’re a team so let’s talk it out like one.”

Now onto the original issue. “You always do the big jumps because you’re the one with actual gymnastics experience. I figured that might lessen the chances of someone getting hurt.” Amber keeps tapping her foot but looks away. “You’re also supposed to be the next captain. If we don’t make it to finals, then that'll be very soon. I thought it would be a good idea to put you in a position where you’d get the most attention from the crowd. People like watching the cheerleader who does crazy stunts. The point was to give everyone a small taste of what they’ll get next year.”  

“Don’t you feel like an idiot?” Natalie laughs, slapping Amber on the shoulder. 

“Nat, please!” Not everyone on the team is friends and some of them used to be but aren't anymore. She gets that. At the very least she needs them to get along for this to go smoothly. “Amber, it's fine if you're not okay with doing the big jumps anymore. No one here has to do anything they don’t want. We can trade spots." 

“It’s whatever. I’ll do it,” she grumbles with a sour face.

“Alright. If you change your mind, just let me know.” Chrissy sighs and picks up where she left off. That messed up her rhythm. She can't stand it when teammates fight with each other. Her job as captain is to get everyone to work as one cohesive unit. Arguing causes tension which makes things awkward and the routines ultimately suffer.

'I need a break.'

“Amber, hold on.” The blonde slows to a stop as the other cheerleaders pass by her to head out into the hall. She hesitantly glances back but doesn’t ignore the request. One chewing out from the seniors was plenty. 

Chrissy waits patiently until the stragglers are gone. No one else needs to hear any of this. “Hey, about earlier… I don’t want to make you do anything you’re not happy with. It's not too late to make changes to the routine.” 

Amber shifts on her feet. She regards her carefully, trying to pick up on anything that could be useful to help. Something is up. There's the way she was acting today and jumping in to side with Jason at lunch last Wednesday. They've never had problems. 

‘Most of the school year has been fine. Why now? I don't have the energy to deal with this but if I can sort this out, I will.’

“No, it’s cool. I’m the best for the role anyway. The rest will screw it up.”

Screw it up? Sure, she's the most suited for the job thanks to her gymnastics training but their teammates are great too. Each one brings something to the table. They're all talented and might’ve done well in the state cheerleading competition. The school put an end to that a while ago so the resources could be used for the basketball and football teams instead. 

‘Forget it. Let it go.’

“Is everything okay?” Amber must be exhausted. The dark circles are becoming more visible through her layer of concealer. School might be getting to her. Eleventh grade sucks. It's an overload of homework and tests.

The junior says nothing at first, raising some red flags. She keeps looking at the floor. “Yeah, I’m good. Sorry about earlier. I guess I was in a bad mood.” 

“It happens. Don't worry about it. If you want to talk or anything, I’m here.” That’s the most she can do. No one can force a person to open up about what’s bothering them. She knows that all too well. Amber slowly nods, her lips pressing into a firm line. “Thanks for staying back. I won’t keep you any longer. I’ll see you later.” A polite way of telling her they're done. And she rushes out of the door and into the hall without even a handwave.

Now that everyone’s gone, she groans loudly and stomps her feet, unable to hold it in any longer. Today couldn’t end fast enough. It’s been nothing but stress between Jason and the team getting mad at each other. She rubs her temples. So much for senior year being a breeze. Can’t she catch a break? 

“Chrissy?” 

She shouts and spins around, taking a few steps back. A hand clutches her chest as she blows out a breath. Jesus. Seeing the tall figure near the bench is startling and a relief. It's a person. A real one. This isn’t normal. That is having a terrible effect that’s spilling into everyday life.

‘I didn’t hear the door open.’

Once the initial shock wears off, her eyes widen a fraction and a different emotion takes center stage. It’s Eddie. School ended a while ago and his club doesn’t meet until Friday. Detention is long over. It's clearly to talk but he has a lot of nerve showing up like this. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.” He raises his hands while keeping some distance between them. It reminds her of the first time he approached her in the hall. Same body language. Almost word for word too. 

Chrissy frowns and crosses her arms, turning away from him. Does he have to do this now? The sports clubs haven't left. Someone might’ve seen him and Jason is on the warpath because of her. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Brrr! Didn’t know how chilly your cold shoulder could be.” He comes further into the room but still keeps his distance. “I just wanted to talk to you.” The urge to scrutinize him is tempting. No, it'll be easier to give in then. “Was kinda hoping you were gonna be at The Hideout last night.” 

“I had plans,” It didn't cross her mind. Most people wouldn't go to a place where they're unwanted to cheer on someone who insulted them. “Besides, why would you want some fraud that pretends everything’s peachy keen to come?”

Yeah, she’s pouting. There’s no denying it. What he said at lunch truly hurt. It would’ve been better to talk to her instead of doing that. Privately, preferably. No one else had a clue who that was directed at and it honestly doesn’t matter. Both of them knew. 

The room goes so quiet she could hear a pin drop. Did he expect her to not bring it up? Or act as if nothing happened like she normally does? Not this time. Not with him. It’ll eat at her. 

“Well… That...” A heavy sigh fills the space before he gives it another shot. “That wasn’t all meant for you. Only the very last part. I was being a butthurt jealous asshole. Should’ve kept my mouth shut. I’m sorry.”

‘Jealous?’

Chrissy finally turns to face him and most of the resolve she has left to stay miffed takes a devastating hit. He looks down in the dumps, standing there with his hands buried in his underarms. Glum. That’s the word that comes to mind. It’s tugging at her heartstrings in the worst ways. 

“Why should you if that’s how you feel?” 

“It wasn’t supposed to come out like that. Sounded different in my head. I, uh… Like, I do want you to be yourself and be honest when something’s wrong but it’s not my place to say shit about it. I’m not the best with that either. Obviously.”

“What if this is me? Maybe that's all there is. What if I am a fraud and a coward that pretends everything is fine?” That’s what she fears. Staying a scaredy-cat who’s too afraid to go against the grain. Too worried about disappointing others. Always lying and putting on an act so no one will say anything. This being it with no chance of changing.

“No, you’re not.” He says decisively. “I think you’re in a crappy situation and trying to work things out. Most of it I don’t really get so that’s why I should’ve kept my big mouth shut.” 

Chrissy holds herself tighter, looking away from him. His words sound sincere. She’s grateful he didn’t agree with her. That would’ve poured salt into the wound. 

“I am sorry. It was dumb as hell. Never wanted it to be me to upset you.” He continues after not getting a response. From the silence and lack of eye contact, he must be assuming she’s angry with him. “If you want, I don’t mind groveling.” 

That makes her crack a smile. “Please don’t.” 

“What, you wouldn’t like to see that? It’d make you the first person to turn that down today.” 

She whips her head back. The first? What has this guy been up to recently? Only a couple of days passed since they last talked. “How many people did you have to apologize to?”

Eddie’s lips pull back over his teeth as he cringes. “Three so far. You, Dom, and Donna.” 

The 'so far' part gives her the impression there's more than three people on his list. Such a troublemaker. After meeting the bar owner and hearing him talk about her, she can’t imagine the guts he possesses to get her mad. “What did you do?”

“I was… Let’s just say I was a major asshole yesterday. Kinda got wasted last night at the bar.” He tilts his head back and lets out an exasperated breath. “It went downhill real fast. Donna didn’t need any of that.” 

“You were being a messy drunk.” It looks like everyone's having a rough time. This is something though. They’ve been going to the same school for years. She’s seen Eddie rile people up. Dozens at once, even. That never appeared to phase him. At least not to her knowledge. He certainly didn’t seem remorseful in the slightest. Yet here he is, open and honest with it.

“I know. How lame. Had to practically kiss her feet this morning and beg for forgiveness.” 

“How did that go?” 

“She’s satisfied now. Woke up to a boot to the ribs. That was my alarm clock.” A hand slides down to grab the bottom of his shirt, lifting it. Her eyes widen as they rove over the large, reddened mark along his side. She winces and covers her mouth. That has to be painful. “Don’t worry. Totally deserved it. Half-asleep me was being a little too snarky for my own good and she forgot her steel toes were on. It wasn't like she was tryin' to break them. I offered to help out at the bar on Saturday night too.” 

What is he saying? That's alarming. Not only is he nonchalant about being kicked but also saying he deserved it. Perhaps this is normal in his scene. For her, it absolutely isn't. 

“Does it hurt?” Dumb question. Of course it does. Chrissy moves closer, inspecting the discoloration across his skin. She doesn’t like the feeling gnawing at her insides from seeing that. Jerk or not, the last thing she wants is him getting hurt. 

“Pshh. Nah. Had much worse. After the way I was acting last night, I’m lucky not to be in the hospital or dead from driving drunk.” 

‘He’s reckless.’

“I know I joke about Donna being a brute and all but she looks out for me. Has since I started going there.” Eddie partially tucks his shirt in. “Yeah, I’m basically on an apology tour today. Guess that’s the only one I’m going on anytime soon.” He shrugs his shoulders. “So, what’s it gonna take to earn your forgiveness? I have another side that’s free.” 

“No way!” 

“You don’t want a free shot? You sure? Plenty of people would love to take up that offer.”

"I’m not those people.” Off the top of her head, it’s easy to come up with a lengthy list of students alone who’d jump at the chance to hit him. A result of butting heads with everyone. “I’ll forgive you. It’s just… Can we talk if there’s a problem instead of including me in your, um, speeches?” 

“...I can do that.” He slowly nods, rubbing the back of his neck. 

A weight is lifted off of her chest. This has been bothering her since yesterday. It's done. She’s just relieved he’s here, even if it’s rash. There's a slim chance no one spotted him coming in or when he leaves.

“What’s this?” His eyes light up noticing the chalkboard near the wall. To her horror, he strolls right toward it.

“No! Don’t look at that!” Chrissy runs past him and flips it over, totally embarrassed. She’s seen his doodles and those are far beyond anything she can manage. There’s no way she’s going to let him see this crime against art. 

“Why not?” That shit-eating grin is back. Things are normal now, including the heat spreading across her face. It’s too late and they both know it. He already got a glimpse. 

“Trade secrets.”

“Man, those rival cheerleaders I’m in cahoots with are gonna be super pissed if I come back empty-handed. Gotta bring them something.” Eddie snorts, tilting his head to the side. “What’s wrong? Why don’t you want me to see it?”

“It’s really bad.” That’s a huge understatement. An enormous one. This wasn’t meant to be seen by anyone outside of the cheer team. She wasn’t expecting a visitor after practice. Otherwise, this abomination would’ve been wheeled off to a closet or thrown off the roof.

“Now you’re just making me even more curious.” 

“Fine! But you better not make fun of me.” The board is flipped back over and he goes silent. Hesitantly, she sneaks a peek at him, hoping to gauge his reaction since he’s giving her nothing else. He’s leaning back with his hands on his hips, taking in the mess scrawled across the board.

‘This is the worst.’

Then his lips curl up. “This is great. I take it that’s you?” He points to a short stick figure in the center. She reluctantly nods. “Why does one of them have huge tits?” A barely restrained laugh slips out from the taller character beside hers with long hair and cartoonishly large boobs. 

“That’s Charlotte. She insisted on having them.” 

“Ah. Got it. Is that the basketball team?”

“Yeah. The routines we do for an indoor game are different from outdoor ones and pep rallies. There’s only a certain amount of room on the sidelines so we have to keep that in mind to make sure we don’t accidentally get it their way. Even though they are more likely to come crashing into us chasing after the ball. Or hit us with it.” She tuts, tapping the toe of her sneaker against the floor. That doesn’t include players from the other team either. They try to be careful but things happen.

Eddie stares at her warmly, his mouth quirking up on one side. 

‘What’s he looking at me like that for?’

It’s making her feel weird. Chrissy grabs a lock of hair and gives it a tug to bring her back down to Earth. Only a few minutes of chatting is all it took. This guy has a cheat sheet somewhere. 

“Can I?” He raises a brow, motioning to the chalk on the ledge.

“Sure.” Curiosity got the best of her. It’s already memorized with a step-by-step basic outline elsewhere. He grasps the frame of the chalkboard to turn it away from her. Taps and squeaks from the chalk fill the room as he gets to work, glancing over every so often with a little smirk.

‘Uh-oh. What’s he doing to it?’

“Heh.” Eddie moves it back around and stands there, admiring his handiwork. The extra space is covered with a new image. A doodle that’s almost as bad as her own but the difference in skill is unmistakable. A stick figure that she assumes is her—from the bangs, ponytail, and crown—hangs in the air with one leg sticking straight out. Another stick person is on the ground with x’s over its eyes and a crown rolling away. 

‘Oh no. He lowered himself down to my level... and drew me drop-kicking Jason.’

The longer Chrissy stares at the picture, the funnier it is. Despite a halfhearted attempt to hold it in, she breaks out in a fit of laughter. This is too good.

“You like it?” Eddie grins, looking from her to the board. 

“Yes!” She smiles brightly at him. Picking up another piece of chalk, a small heart is drawn next to her figure’s head and a tongue lolling out from Jason’s mouth. That earns a chuckle from the man standing close enough for their arms to brush.

The smile on her face fades as the conversation from this morning replays. It would make anyone upset. If he wanted to stay together and possibly work this out, that was a terrible way of going about it. A quick way of killing any romantic feelings that could be lingering. The piece of chalk between her fingers snaps. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” She answers too quickly. It doesn’t sound honest to her own ears and from his expression, he’s not buying it either. Figures. “Sometimes, I wish I could do that in real life.” 

“You are the head cheerleader. I’ll let you stand on my shoulders to give it a go. I’m taller than him so I bet we could pull it off.” She exhales sharply at that yet isn't as bubbly as a moment ago. That doesn’t go unnoticed. “Something happen?”

Chrissy debates whether to say anything. Opening up isn’t easy. Maybe that doesn’t have to be the case with this guy. “I’m just angry.” She sighs and rubs her forehead, getting frustrated again. “I tried talking to him since Monday and kept getting blown off. This morning, I got it out and said I wanted us to go our separate ways.”

If he was surprised when she first asked him about pot, this beats it by a landslide. That only lasts a second before hastily switching gears as the meaning of her words sinks in. "Oh." The chalk is put back on the ledge, and he crosses his arms, slowly nodding. “Right. Gotcha. What made you angry then?”

“He said no.” 

Eddie’s brow furrows as those dark eyes shift back and forth. “No?” He cranes his neck back, repeating the word under his breath. “That’s… That’s not how that works. Unless you gave him an option then that’s tough shit.” 

“I didn’t.” His reaction is encouraging. “He said things like this isn’t like me and I'm not that selfish—" Chrissy starts unloading while he stands there, listening. Telling him everything that went on in the parking lot. It was itching to burst through all day. “That I need to start controlling my feelings like I haven’t been this whole time.” She huffs irritably, slapping what’s left of the chalk onto the ledge. After wiping her hands, she wraps them over herself for some comfort. 

“What do you want?” The expression on his face changed multiple times during her rambling. From confusion to annoyance and frustration. Now it’s stony. “Do you still want to be with him?” 

“No! He's a jerk.” Saturday night and this morning stamped out any desire to fix this. That doesn’t mean there won’t be consequences. “I just… I feel… trapped. If I break up with him and something goes wrong in the tournament, everyone’s going to blame me. People will already be disappointed. My dad, the Carvers, their circle, the church. School and games will be awkward since we’re all stuck together. And he’s so mad at me. I don’t know what to do.” 

Eddie is still quiet, keeping his arms crossed tightly. Moments pass like this with his eyes darting around and brows pinched together. 

‘What’s going on in that head?’

“...You don’t have to be trapped.” He finally breaks the silence. “We’re graduating soon, anyway. Cheerleading. Basketball. That’ll all be over. None of it will matter after that. All those people you mentioned? They don’t have to matter either. Your dad will have to suck it up unless he's a huge scumbag.” His long fingers graze his chin as he mulls it over. 

‘Is it that easy though? To say that none of it will matter?’

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want. There’s always a way out. Other options. Even if it means having it rough for a while. Whether it’s being with Douchebag or staying in Hawkins at all, you have a choice.” 

Does she? That is true, technically. Nobody could stop her from walking out of the house and disappearing. It sounds too simple. Eddie has more experience than her in a lot of ways. He wasn’t sheltered. She doesn't have a clue what to do or where to start as he does.

“Maybe I’m just used to pissing people off and shitting on their expectations so I don’t really get it… But if you want help, all you gotta do is ask.” Her eyes widen at that, completely dumbfounded. Is he serious? “You can send Captain Toolbox a louder message since he doesn’t want to listen. Everyone else, too. It’s all up to you.”

For the second time today, Chrissy is floored. He wants to help her? How? Hopefully it’s not getting her to flip everyone off literally. No one's ever said she has a choice before. A hand presses against her chest, gripping the front of her cheer uniform. The plan is ruined. It already was after skipping class to find drugs. Things are different. Everything was supposed to be set in stone. Now going along quietly seems more like a life sentence than the bright future she was promised.

“Why?” She’s not worth the trouble. If he sticks around, Jason, the jocks, her dad, and other people will become a real pain for him. “Why do you want to help me?”

Eddie blinks a few times, giving her a strange look. “Isn’t it obvious?” They stare at each other, long and hard, before he clears his throat, tearing his gaze away to focus on something else. Like the ‘86 charm resting at the base of her neck. “Well, uh… I think you’re a good person. Someone that’s surrounded by a bunch of assholes who don’t notice anything. I know some messed up stuff is going on.”

‘I need help.’

“I also know you’re not happy.” She stiffens at his words. Saying that so matter-of-factly. Is it that apparent to him? She hasn’t been genuinely happy in a long time. Possibly in short bursts here and there but overall? No. Perhaps she never was. “You can try to be.”

He hit the nail on the head as usual. It was wishful thinking to hope he forgot about the ‘messed up stuff’. That’s her luck. Just because she’s gotten used to acting like awful things don’t happen doesn’t mean someone else is willing to. 

There are a million questions she wants to ask. That gets tossed into the background. They can figure that out later. It doesn't make sense why he'd want to deal with any of this. Her dad is a headache and a half. He'll undoubtedly hear about this after coming home. God. Jason might rat her out to him as payback.

“I’m… scared.”

Eddie has already seen too much. Despite that, he’s still standing here waiting for an answer. The hallway incident alone should’ve gotten him to run the other way. “What did you tell me before? When I was going to put in Nightmare on Elm Street?”

Oh great. She racks her brain trying to remember. They were drinking that night. He came back from the bathroom and switched out the tapes then asked if she could handle it since the last one made her jump.

“Yep! Besides, even if I do get scared, you’re here… I’ll be okay.”

She said that. Having him there made watching the movies more bearable, especially when he held her. Chrissy went from being a scaredy cat to getting a kick out of Freddy's cheesy lines. It was because they were together. He's pulled her out of that spiral over and over again. 

What she’s been doing isn’t working. All it did was cause things to get infinitely worse, to the point of seeing and hearing stuff that isn’t real. Driving herself insane. Bottling everything up and going it alone did this. It's too isolating. 

“I need help.”

Those three words carry a tremendous amount of weight. She didn’t realize it before. Now they’re out in the open and there’s no taking them back. For so long she's wanted to say it. Eddie might've already known. She always wondered what he saw that day outside of the gym that pushed him to check on her. 

“That’s all you gotta say.” A wry grin spreads across his lips, making the grooves around his mouth and eyes more pronounced. An open hand is held out toward her. There’s no need to think about it. It’s an easy choice for once. 

Chrissy pries her own off the front of her uniform and gently places it in his. This feels right. It has to be. His larger one closes around hers. It’s warm, firm, and comforting yet rough. Like him. Heat spreads throughout her body as she meets his gaze. 

“Wanna piss off some jocks?” Those dark eyes narrow mischievously. The glint in them immediately puts her on high alert, knowing that can’t mean anything good. Consider her interest piqued.

“How?”

“Oh, just something small for now. A little walk. That’s it. Then we can go hang out if you’re down.” He’s not going to get himself into a fight, is he? The other teams are done with practice or will be soon. The offer is tempting though. “You do. I can see it in your face. You wanna come with me?” 

Far too eagerly, she nods. The thought of getting in the Jeep again is nauseating. She wants to go with him regardless of where he takes her. 

“Sweet.” He beams and her chest tightens. “Let’s hit the road.”

Eddie gives her hand a tiny squeeze before walking to the bench with her following behind. The pink bookbag is snatched up and slung over his shoulder. She goes to protest but stops herself. There’s nothing wrong with letting someone do things for her. It might take time to get used to that. 

As soon as they leave the room, she can hear voices in the distance. A bunch of them. After practice, the teams often hang out in the halls to talk or wait for friends from other groups to finish up. She bites the inside of her cheek when they pass a door that leads outside. He has different plans. That was obvious from what he said. Her nerves are going haywire now that it's getting closer.

“You good? There’s still time to back out. We can go another way.” He throws her a side glance, arching a brow. Something like ‘it’s fine’ tumbles out of her mouth. It’s enough to satisfy him and they keep going. “If it makes it any easier, just stare at my back and pretend they’re not there.” 

Chrissy keeps her eyes trained on the large Dio patch on the back of his vest. It does make it easier. The only time her view shifts away from the demonic beast straight ahead is to look down periodically to make sure she doesn’t accidentally step on the back of his sneakers. 

When they walk out into the main hall where most of the racket is coming from, her entire body tenses up. She swallows hard and tightens the grip on his hand. The noise dies instantly for a moment. Then there’s a loud gasp and something hits the floor. A textbook. 

“Chris?!” a girl shouts in surprise but she’s too frazzled to place it. All that’s certain is it doesn’t belong to Charlotte or Natalie. 

“The hell? Cunningham?!”

The voices start up again, this time with more intensity. Too much, too loud. Chrissy can only pray her insides don’t burst. It’s a wonder how this guy manages it. He appears as cool as can be. Not a care in the world. If anything, there’s a little pep in his step.  

“What do you think you’re doing, freak?” That’s Andy. There’s no doubt about it. 

“You got eyes. What’s it look like, dumbass?” He turns back with a cocky smirk, flipping them off. Unbelievable. She avoids having eyes on her unless it's for cheerleading. This punk enjoys getting attention and causing a ruckus, even in a situation like this. Does he have no sense of self–preservation? 

“Jay’s going to kick your ass.”

“Hah! I’d like to see him try.” Eddie snorts as they get near the front door. 

“Go get Jason.” One of them orders. That sends her into panic overload. The whole basketball team is here. They could come out to the parking lot to start something and there’s not much she can do to stop them. 

He holds the entrance door open and unfortunately lets go of her hand. “Walk in front of me, okay?” She nods and takes the lead. It’s better if his hands are free. She hears keys jangle but keeps walking, not looking back until they pass the other cars to reach his van. 

Chrissy lets out a huge sigh of relief when they’re both in and quickly locks the door before glancing in the side mirror. Nobody is coming… yet. There’s a good chance Jason will think it's a prank and need some convincing. He won't believe she’d do this. Not so publicly. That assumption would be correct on any other occasion. 

“Are you worried?” Eddie is somehow calm like this is totally normal. Instead of driving off, he takes his time pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. The window is lazily rolled down as smoke pours from the corner of his mouth.

“Of course. He's already ticked off and Andy makes it worse by riling him up.” Wrapping her arms around herself, she checks the mirror again. Hopefully they’ll be long gone by the time he walks out those doors. 

“What do you think he’s gonna do that’s getting you all worked up?”                              

“I'm not sure.” Chrissy turns away to avoid his gaze, sinking into the seat. That isn’t entirely true. There are plenty of scenarios she cooked up. Eddie getting jumped when he’s not expecting it. The basketball team going after Hellfire Club members. Their group making school unbearable. Jason snitching to her dad to cause a fight at home. Or worse, he could do all of the above and more.

“I’ll deal with it if it gets outta hand.” He says with such certainty and finally starts up the van. “You care where we go?” All he gets is a head shake. It doesn’t matter as long as it’s out of this parking lot. 

‘That wasn’t such a great idea. It kind of felt good to shock them. I bet they never expected me to do something like that.’

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine.” She looks over as he ashes his cigarette out the window. Eddie's right. Jason cares a lot about his image. He’ll probably make her seem like a villain to everyone which isn’t exactly wrong. People will see it that way too. They don't have a clue what's been going on behind the scenes or that she tried breaking up with him. From their point of view, she’s openly cheating on him with his enemy. “I didn’t do any of this just to hang you out to dry.”

"I know."

“That should send him a clear message. If that doesn’t work, I’ll hit him with a pink slip at lunch. Let the asshole know he’s fired.” The grin on his face is infectious. He’s deriving so much joy from this fiasco. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I made my decision. I’m just stressed out.” 

“We’ll have to fix that, huh?” He taps his fingers against the side of the steering wheel. The van turns down one of the back roads and it gives her an idea of where they’re going. “You wanna drag?” A hand holding the cigarette waves it back and forth. “Helps me relax. It’s fine if you don’t.” 

Chrissy stares at it. “Sure.” A tiny bit shouldn’t hurt. His eyes shift from the road to her as she takes the cigarette from between his fingers. One puff. No problem. That is, until she tries it and coughs her lungs up. It burns like everything he gives her. Handing it back, she’s lightheaded and her heart’s racing again but he wasn't wrong. Some of the tension melted away. 

‘Does this mean I’m officially single? Or will Jason still think we’re together? Whatever. I’ll do what I want.’

Eddie reaches over to turn some music on. “What’s this?” His face lights up at her question.

“Got the new Metallica album on Sunday. A day early too. Was happier than a dog eating shit when I got my hands on it. Think I might try to learn this one first.” He skips the current song. They’re quiet for a few seconds as the next begins. Immediately, his head and foot move along with the rhythm. “The main attraction, ‘Master of Puppets’. Sick as hell.”

“Is it hard?”  

“For me? Nah. It’ll take some practice to get it down pat. Nothing I can’t manage. Downstrokes and fast tempos are right up my alley. I already know I’m gonna have to adjust my amp’s settings for this beast.”

“I don't know anything about downstrokes or amps but I’d like to hear you play it. After you figure it out, I mean.” At the very least, Chrissy gets that it’s a fast song. Her ears can tell that much. Watching him have a go at it on his guitar... Thinking about it makes her flush. Subtly, she glances at his hands on the steering wheel. 

‘Something’s wrong with me. Why am I like this? It’s all his fault.’

“Sure, if you show me that routine you’re working on. We can do a trade.” Eddie looks over and she jerks toward the window, attempting to smother the blush spreading like wildfire. “Oh? What’s got you up in a tizzy? Hmm?” That voice. He sounds so smug. She can already tell what kind of expression is on his face from that alone. 

“Nothing.”

It doesn’t take long until they’re surrounded by woods on either side. She’s pretty certain where he’s taking her now. They came here before. Lover’s Lake. That’s confirmed when the van makes a sharp turn onto a familiar dirt road with a worn-out sign near the entrance. 

The sun is beginning to set. Chrissy gazes out the window at the darkening orange glow coming from between the trees. It was late at night when they stopped here after going to the diner last week. This isn’t a place she’d normally visit. Seeing it at this time of day though? 

‘How lovely.’  

The van passes a couple of homes and continues down the gravelly road until hitting a dead end. That doesn’t stop him. He drives onto the grass and veers off to the side, only stopping once the first row of trees blocks their path. Here, it’s more difficult to notice the vehicle with all the low–hanging branches and bushes. 

“This time, I’m prepared.” Snatching up the old pail off the floor, his hand pats the top of it. “Wait a sec.” He holds up a finger and reaches over the back of the seat for something. “Here. Since you guys have such flimsy uniforms.” A large black hoodie gets tossed to her. “Should be big enough to cover your legs if you pull them up.” 

Chrissy holds it out. It’s huge. There’s no doubt it will cover her legs. “Thanks.” Throwing it over her head, she tugs it down and quickly gets situated. The bottom goes past the hem of her skirt. This works. 

When they hop out of the van and come around the front, he stops in his tracks—staring at her. Eyeing up both the hoodie and the cheerleader wearing it. “What?” She fidgets, grabbing onto one of the long sleeves. 

“Nothin’. You’re just swimming in that thing.” He smirks, exhaling sharply. “Is it warm at least?”

“Mhm. It’s comfy.” The inside is soft and the fabric is thick. Perfect for this kind of weather. Spring starts in a few weeks. They’re on the last legs of winter. 

Eddie stuffs his hand into the pocket of the vest while the other carries the pail. The chill in the air makes her even more grateful for the hoodie. She pauses when he sticks his elbow out, motioning it towards her. 

“Oh, okay.” This is certainly different. Slipping her arm around his, she holds onto the leather sleeve as they head into the forest. It's sweet. Reminds her of those older movies where a gentleman takes a lady out on a date. “You like coming here?” The cheer captain nibbles on her lip, glancing up at him from the side. This is the second time in the last week they hung out by the lake. 

“Uh... Yeah. It's a good place to kick back. My dealer lives in this area so I came out here a lot. Well, before the dogs snagged him.” He tsks, ducking his head under a thick branch. 

‘He must’ve found someone new since he always has plenty of it.’

The lake finally comes into view as they move through the last row of trees. Eddie lets go to search for a spot that still has plenty of grass and plops on the ground. She gingerly sits next to him. The pail is set down in front of him and he flips it open to pull out a plastic cigarette container. Inside there are a handful of joints. He wasn’t kidding about being prepared.

“Let’s get rid of some of that stress. Maybe you can give me a piece of your mind while you’re at it.”

Chrissy stares up at the night sky, listening to the small ripples of water nearby. She understands what he means about this place. Aside from its natural beauty, someone can come here to get away from the rest of the town. There’s no one to bother them. No cars driving by or neighbors being nosy. It's so peaceful. 

“You were saying?” 

“What? Oh yeah. So she was mad about that. Really mad. I got grounded for two weeks and lost some dinner privileges.” They’ve been sitting out here for some time, laying in the grass and smoking. The conversation started light and fun then gradually moved to more personal things, with Eddie prodding here and there until it ended up this way. 

'That's it. We were talking about cheerleading and my mom got brought into this.'

She’s definitely stoned. It relaxed her enough to open up. That might’ve been a mistake. Little by little, more continues to slip out. His coaxing isn’t helping. This isn't something she normally talks about. Not even to close friends. She already said way too much but her mouth keeps running.  

“Over clothes? Jesus Christ. It’s a lose-lose situation. If you try hard then you're screwed. If you don't, you're still screwed anyway. There’s no making people like that happy.” 

“I’m sorry. I have a lot to be thankful for and I'm complaining like an ungrateful brat when people have real issues. Things could be so much worse.” Chrissy has been told that before. That at least she has a big house and financial security. Many go without necessities like food or a roof over their heads. It makes her embarrassed to complain out loud. The person she's whining to struggles with stuff she's never had to deal with before. 

“No, no. Your parents having money doesn’t mean you don’t have problems. It just means that yours might be a little different. That’s all. And sure, things could be worse but they could also be better.” He says, taking the joint when she passes it back over. “I’m the one who asked. It’d be pretty shitty to turn around and make you feel like crap for something out of your control. Not like you chose to be born to ‘em. Besides, nice things don’t make up for everything else.” 

It does make her feel better to hear that. Actually, it feels good to be heard at all. This guy is a great listener which she found surprising when this started. He wasn't exactly the mean, scary, devil-worshipping cult leader people made him out to be. 

“I remember her, you know. From the talent show in middle school.”

“Really?” That’s embarrassing. Some things are better left forgotten. 

“You bet.” 

“Great.” She mutters, tapping her feet together. Of course he does. Her luck isn’t that good. 

“I remember everything from that day…” He trails off, putting out the roach before tossing it in the grass. 

It’s quiet now. A comfortable silence with only the sounds of the water and the nearby forest. She jolts when something brushes against the side of her hand. Looking down, she realizes it’s the tip of his finger. 

‘Does he…?’

Chrissy watches his pinky hook around hers. Is he testing the waters to see what’s allowed? She pulls away and he visibly stiffens. That sent the wrong message. Flipping her hand over, she slides it under his, letting it rest there. Gradually, he relaxes and laces their fingers together. 

This is nice. Quite different from how it was at school earlier and not like holding Jason’s. Right now, it’s appreciated. After talking about her parents and the past, she's vulnerable. Too exposed. As if someone tore her open and ripped the layers away. His hand is warm and big, something to hang onto. This can keep her anchored here. 

“What about you?”  

“What about me?” The tension running through him can be felt from the way his hand tightens in hers. 

“Nevermind.” If he doesn’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. There’s no need to push anything. She voluntarily answered his questions but that doesn't mean he has to do the same. 

A few moments pass with him making grumbling noises before clicking his tongue. “It’s nothin’ special. Just, uh… imagine the most stereotypical white trash childhood you can then you got an idea.” 

“Don’t say that.” 

“Why? It’s the truth.” They both go quiet again with her stealing glances at him every so often. He’s staring up at the sky, lost in thought. 

Chrissy lets go of his hand and sits up, groaning. Laying on the ground all this time is making her sore. She leans back on her palms to peer out at the lake. So dark. Large bodies of water kind of give her the heebie-jeebies as is but not being able to see what’s in there? Nope. This place is only bathed in the gentle light of the moon.

‘It’s beautiful. I wonder how deep it is. Wait. Bad idea. I’m going to freak myself out.’

Noticing movement, she tears herself away from admiring the bright reflection of the moon on the water’s surface to focus on him. Eddie tilts his head to look at her. More specifically, shifting his eyes from her face to her lap. That's what he wants, huh? Trying to resist smiling, she smoothes out her pleated green skirt and pats a hand against it. It’s surprising how quickly he scoots over. There’s barely enough time to fold her legs off to the side before his head drops into her lap. He’s facing the water and maybe that’s a good thing for her sake. She takes in his dark hair and exhales slowly, praying for some self–control. 

“Can I touch your hair?” The Lord is not taking requests tonight. It just slips right out into the open. She’s hopeless. 

“Go ahead.”

Two words are all it takes for her heart to be seconds away from bursting with excitement. It’s silly. Her face lights up at the wavy mess across her thighs, not knowing where to begin. Reaching down carefully, she pinches a curl sticking up higher than the rest and rubs it between her pads to get a feel for the texture. Wow. For as wild as it appears, his hair is soft. Thick. Has lots of volume. She’s jealous. People pay good money to get theirs like that. He has it naturally. There's no product in it either. 

‘Lucky.’

Eddie has great hair. Very different from her own like everything else about them. Why is she hesitating instead of jumping in? This was her idea. Imitating the way he does it should be okay. She nods to herself and gently strokes the side of his head. That’s a good place to start. 

The longer he allows this, the more confidence it gives Chrissy to keep going, switching from petting to running her fingers through his dark locks and playing with them. He sighs contently and relaxes into her lap, getting cozy. A small smile passes over her lips while looking down at him affectionately. It's a weird thing going on. This isn't like the ones before. She's had crushes in the past. Quite a few of them over the years. Something about this is different from that. 

“My, uh…” That breaks the reverie, dragging her back to the present. “My mom was a big ol’ junkie. Really liked the hard stuff. Well, a lot more than she liked me anyway." His voice cracks near the end. He's making an effort to sound casual about it. Like this is old news he couldn't care less about but she picks up on the hint of bitterness in his tone. "And my dad? It was the whole running to get a pack of smokes and taking off for months at a time kind of bullshit.”

Chrissy stares down at him, wishing she could see his expression. That's a lot to take in. She figured his homelife was rough and he made a comment about the kind of people he was raised around which only confirmed it. “I’m sorry. I take it that’s why you live with your uncle?” 

“Yeah. She’s been gone and my old man’s behind bars. That dumbass and one of his buddies tried running off after robbing a place and someone ended up getting shot. They didn’t die. It wasn’t his first offense though. He's been in and out of jail for stupid shit before.” He sighs again, leaning further into her. “Nothing but getting messed up, drinking, cheating, and fighting. That’s what I meant by stereotypical white trash crap. So I have a lot to live up to. Don’t wanna ruin the great Munson name.”

“What an asshole. I think someone’s mommy isn’t giving him enough attention at home.”

Chance said that during lunch a few weeks ago when Eddie made a scene in the cafeteria. How many times have those kinds of insults been directed at him? They probably don't know his situation and might not care even if they did. 

“There. Now we’re even… Sorta.”

“What?” She blinks in confusion. They’re not even by any measure. He gets the bare minimum from her and keeps giving more. If only she knew the right words to say. She wants to show him how much all of this means to her and to comfort him like he's done for her. 

“It’s not exactly fair to smoke you up and get you to spill your guts without spilling some in return. Not that any of this is a big secret or anything.” 

“I still appreciate it.” 

“What? Finding out I come from a long line of losers and scumbags? You must be thrilled.”

She huffs and lets go of the strands to pinch his cheek. He jumps with a little ‘ow’, turning his head to look up at her in surprise. “Say something like that again and it’ll be worse next time. I don’t care about any of that. Like you said to me, you didn’t choose to be born to them. You and your uncle are good people. That’s all that really matters.” 

Eddie just stares up at her blankly. She holds his gaze and purses her lips, waiting for a retort. He flips back over to face the water. “Sure, I guess.” A ringed hand comes up and pats around until finding hers, tugging it over to its previous position on his head. 

Chrissy goes back to playing with the dark hair fanned out across her lap. If this is what he wants then that’s what he’ll get. She begins humming softly, letting the curls spill between her fingers. 

This guy is a real fool sometimes. So is she. Perhaps this is how it should be. Two dummies bumbling around, hoping for the best. It’ll take a lot more than that to dissuade her at this point. Then again, they only gave each other a small peek inside. There’s a lot more to explore, including some things that aren’t very pretty. 

Chapter Text

“So when’s daddy dearest coming back?”

Chrissy stops sifting through the vanity drawer to glance at the man sitting at her desk. He seems comfortable here, leaning far back in the chair while flipping through one of the books pushed off to the side. “Maybe Friday-ish?”

"Maybe?"

“He said he was going away for two weeks and left on a Friday so I figured..."

The book slams shut and is tossed onto the table. “You haven’t talked to him?” Eddie regards her for a moment, furrowing his brow. “He doesn’t smoke, right?” 

It takes a second to sink in. “Don’t say that.” No. She refuses to go down that road. That would never happen. Her dad spent years building all of this up. He's far too proud and has too much going on here to walk away. There's no way he'd run off. 

“My bad. It was a shitty joke. I’m just being cynical.” 

“That’s okay.” Chrissy chews on the inside of her lip. What was she searching for again? It doesn’t matter anymore. Couldn’t have been that important. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices him getting off the chair to walk around. 

‘Already looking for something else to get into.’

“You’re reading it!” Abandoning the forgotten mission, she sits back to see him holding up the book that was on her nightstand. The Fellowship of the Ring with a light purple bookmark that has a heart on it sticking out from the top. “What part are you at?”

She flushes and shifts against the seat at how excited he is that she's digging into the story. “The hobbits are at an inn and meet someone who knows about the ring. Oh yeah. Some guy gave Frodo a letter from the wizard that he forgot about. That’s where I left off.”

“You’re talkin’ about Strider and the dude with the letter is Barliman Butterbur, the innkeeper. Nice. Wasn’t sure if you’d give it a try. Do you like it so far?”

It’s stupid but this is kind of embarrassing. That book was cracked open the same day he left after spending the night. This is something he enjoys so she jumped right in. “Mhm. It’s interesting. Definitely different from the books I usually get.”

Eddie pushes his shoulders back, standing tall. She’s puzzled when he puts a foot up on the seat and clears his throat:

“All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.” His voice drops a few octaves and an open hand waves through the air, reciting lines from the book. 

‘I read that part during study hall. Does he have the whole thing memorized?!'

Finishing the small scene, his head whips in her direction. “Tolkien was my favorite as a kid. Still is.” All she can do is gawk at him. Her memory isn't good enough to know if it was word for word but that’s ridiculous. Super dorky and impressive. Silence fills the room. He reaches down to grab onto the chain hanging from his belt loop, rolling the links between his fingers. “What?”  

“Nothing.” She giggles, covering it with the back of her hand. “I think it’s cute when you’re being a big nerd.” 

“Big nerd? I don’t wanna hear that from you.”

‘Was he hoping for a standing ovation? Maybe I should’ve done that instead.’

“From me? I can’t recite anything to save my life, let alone an entire poem.” Chrissy stops herself. That wasn't the reaction he was expecting. “I liked it! That was neat. Most people couldn't remember all that.” 

Despite trying to make him feel better, he marches over to ruffle her hair worse than ever. “Hey!” She swats at the offending hand. Her ponytail was already falling out as it is and now it’s a real disaster. He laughs maniacally, taking a step back to observe the damage. “Look what you did, you punk!” She huffs at the mirror, blowing loose strands away from her face. 

“Then let me fix it.”

He wants to do her hair? That’s a first. A guy never offered to do that before. They also don’t purposefully cause havoc for fun and then insist on taking care of it. What a pain in the butt. "Alright. I guess it's only fair if you make a mess, you should clean it up." 

“Sweet. Is it cool to smoke in here?”

“Tonight should be okay. It has to stop before my dad comes back though.” The first floor smells decent now after how much he smoked over the weekend. Airing out the place and a large amount of air freshener helped. Cigarette smoke has an annoying way of lingering around for a while. That’s apparent from his clothes and van. 

Chrissy drags her teeth over her lip as she quietly watches him move around the room. Opening up the window and snatching up the pail he tossed on her bed when they came in. Unless it’s something huge, she doesn’t mind letting him do whatever. He flips the lid open to pull out his pack and lighter along with the smallest ashtray she's ever seen. 

“I take it I also won’t be seeing the inside of this room anytime soon.” Eddie sighs gloomily, lighting up the cigarette. It makes sense when taking her dad’s reputation into account. There’s no telling how badly he’d react to finding a guy in here, let alone one with long hair and tattoos. The neighborhood might blow up from his rage. 

“Not necessarily.” She bites on a fingernail, trying to think fast. “I mean, you can always climb up the tree to get in here. No one should see you if it’s dark out and as long as we’re not too loud, we should be okay.” 

Eddie takes a long drag of his cigarette. “...As long as we’re not too loud. Gotcha.” She sucks in a sharp breath, unable to stop the heat from scorching her face. “What? I’m only repeating what you said.” His mouth curls up into a sly grin as he blows smoke out of the corner of it. “Oh, I see. So it turns out the Queen of Hawkins High is actually a little perv."

‘What a smug jerk! Is this payback for not clapping after his performance?’

“No! No way! You're the one that—” The obnoxious part is that he’s technically right. Chrissy spins around in her seat and pulls the hoodie up, blocking him out. Is it true? Does that make her a perv since that was the first thing that came to mind? 

"C'mon. I was just messin' with you." His voice sounds closer now. "Don't hide from me in there. Your hair is gonna turn into a rat's nest in that thing."

She's tempted to mess it up even worse so he has more work to do but that's shooting herself in the foot. This is so dumb. They aren't in middle school anymore. That was a long time ago. Get it together. "Fine." Grabbing the bottom of the hoodie, she pulls it up over her head and drapes it over the back of the chair. No more hiding. “I'm not crazy about that nickname you gave me.”

“Huh?”

“You called me that a few times. The ‘Queen of Hawkins High’. That isn't true.” It didn’t feel right when he initially said it at the picnic table and still doesn’t. 

“Sure it is but if you don’t want me to call you that then I won’t. ‘Kay? Now sit still and let me fix this.” He holds out an open palm towards her. It takes a moment to realize what he wants. The brush sitting on the table. Once she hands it over, his fingers get to work gently pulling out the green scrunchie and putting it on his wrist. 

This is so weird. It dawns on Chrissy how strange this entire thing is while staring into the vanity. Eddie Munson, the guitar-playing ‘town freak’ who drives like a maniac and sells drugs is carefully brushing out her hair. There’s a look of concentration on his face as he takes another drag from the cigarette dangling from his lips, trying to avoid yanking on any knots.  

“You have pretty hair.” 

“You do, too.” She mindlessly blurts out. After getting a chance to run her hands through it, there’s no doubt about that. 

‘I want to do it again.’

His gaze meets hers in the mirror and he snorts. “Well, ‘pretty’ wasn’t exactly what I was going for when I grew it out but hell… I’ll take it.”

It’s almost back to its original state. Eddie is taking his sweet time with the task at hand. Separating the strands into sections with his fingers and using light brush strokes. Like he's worried about ripping some out by accident if it’s done too roughly. 

“You wanna drag?” He gestures to the cigarette by tilting his chin up, holding the butt between his teeth. 

“No thanks. I don’t want to add another bad habit on top of everything.” It isn’t her cup of tea. She wants to get healthier, not make things worse. Smoking pot or having a drink here and there is already enough. “No offense.”

“None taken. It’s cool. You don’t look like much of a smoker anyway. Full offense.” Eddie drags his fingers across her scalp as he finishes up. “Good. Be upfront with me if you’re not digging something.” 

“I’m… trying.” That feels amazing. Her head follows along with his hands' movements, hardly registering whatever he’s saying. Most of it goes in one ear and out the other from being too focused on the pleasant sensations his fingers are causing. It isn’t until the massage ends and all her hair is pulled back that she snaps out of it. 

The scrunchie is slipped off his wrist and he makes quick work of her ponytail, setting it back in place. “There. Good as new.” From his expression in the mirror, he's pleased with himself. So is she. It's in better shape than when they left school. 

“Thanks.” An enticing thought pops up. This has been on her mind since flipping through a magazine in Charlotte’s car the other day. “I was wondering, have you ever put on eyeliner?” 

“Say what?”

She holds in a laugh at his reaction. His brows flew right up into his bangs. “Eyeliner. Like how some rock stars do? You know—” A finger imitates drawing circles around her lids. “That.”

“Uh, nope. I smudged black shit around them for Halloween but that’s ‘bout it.”

“Can I put some on you?” Chrissy turns in the seat to give him those big puppy-dog eyes. "Pretty please." Now that the request is out in the open, she’s eager to see it. Will he let her do that? 

Eddie goes silent again. He just stands there with his hand on his hips, glancing around the room. After a minute, he takes one last drag and puts the cigarette out in the ashtray. “You got something to clean it off when we’re done?” 

“Yep! I have a cream and cotton rounds right here.” She pulls out a jar to show him enthusiastically. “This works great. No one would ever know it was there.”  

“Okay, fine. Have at it. ” There's a faint 'hmph' when she hops to her feet and motions for him to sit down in front of the vanity but it doesn't match the rest. “And I wouldn’t give a crap if people knew.”

‘Right. Silly me.'

He plops down on the chair, following every movement as she rummages through one of the drawers to find an unused pencil. “I don’t even trust myself with sharp stuff around my eyes so I’m puttin’ my life in your hands.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve done this before.” Thank goodness there's a new one in the back. She takes the cap off and inspects it to make sure it’s good enough for the job. “Haven’t poked anyone so far.”

“With my luck, I’ll be the first.” He crosses his arms while watching her slide onto the edge of the table. Sitting a bit off to the side to make sure there is plenty of light. “Please be gentle with me, Your Highness.” 

She pauses for a moment. That sounded innocent but his wolfish grin says otherwise. Is that an inside joke or reference?

‘I’m pretty sure he’s being bad tonight.’

“I’ll try.” This seating is a bit awkward. There’s no leverage. Hanging that far over the table while doing this is asking for trouble. “Come closer.” He scoots the chair an inch forward. At most. It could be in the same spot. “Closer.” 

“Okay, okay.” Despite the grumbling, he complies. Moving close enough there’s barely any room between them. 

Chrissy waits for him to close his eyes before beginning. To think he’s actually letting her do this… Charlotte would be so jealous. She’s been trying to get John to do something similar for a while. That idea is instantly rejected. 

Placing a hand on the side of his cheek, she leans in and starts from the middle of his lid, moving outwards. The smell of smoke and spice is strong at this proximity but those are all too familiar scents at this point. A unique combination that’s steadily growing on her. Or already has. 

‘Jeez.’

Expecting Eddie to stay still for any amount of time was wishful thinking. All he’s doing is sitting in a chair yet so many things are going on at once. It’s distracting. The muscles in his face twitching. His Adam’s apple bobbing every so often. The hands in his lap fidgeting like he’s not sure what to do with them. Then there’s his knee bouncing under the table. 

“Stop moving or you’ll end up looking like a raccoon.” 

“Oh no. The horror.” A real attempt is made. He’s straining to keep it together, at least for a couple of minutes. It’s better to do this quickly before this guy bursts from the effort. “Seems fitting. Wouldn’t be too wild to see me digging in a trash can somewhere.” 

“Eddie!” She lightly slaps his chest, making him chuckle even more. “That’s funny but mean.” 

After waiting for him to get it out of his system, Chrissy goes back to finishing the other side. With them positioned like this, she takes the opportunity to peruse. Up close and personal. Certain details escaped her notice. Perhaps she didn’t pay enough attention. 

‘He has full lips.’

“Okay, look up so I can do the bottom.” His lids flutter open as he follows her directions. She lets out a shaky breath and continues, staring at his eyes. So large and expressive. They’re a rich shade of brown. Same as the coffee beans downstairs. Sometimes the irises are so dark it’s hard to tell them apart from his pupils after smoking. There are light freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose and cheeks. The faint stubble on his chin? That jaw?

Uh-oh.

"There! All done.” Hopping off the table fast, she walks behind the chair and checks the vanity. It’s as she imagined. Eddie and eyeliner do go together. Her fingers work themselves into his hair, fluffing it out. “Now that's a rock star.” 

Tilting his head back, he glances up at her with his brows pinched together. “You sayin’ I wasn't before?”

“No, I—That’s not what I meant. I just mean you're more like the ones I’ve seen on MTV.”

“Hm. So, which do you prefer?" The corners of his mouth curl up, getting a kick out of this. "With or without?” 

The hands toying with his messy dark locks slide over to cup the sides of his face. “I like you both ways,” Chrissy says softly, meeting his gaze again. She’s not sure what expression she’s making but he seems surprised. “I wanted to see…” 

‘What am I doing?’

Everything’s warm. Too warm. This was supposed to be fun. A little messing around. Right? Yet her chest is tightening to the point it hurts. There are so many conflicting emotions. Guilt is one of them. She broke up with Jason this morning. Would it be wrong to want to move on? Is that too quickly?

“I was being a butthurt jealous asshole.”

It's always the same. Is she going to keep playing dumb about this last month? Jason was a big reason for that. She lied and snuck around but never wanted to be a ‘cheater’. That’s not an issue anymore. Eddie has been great so far. Hiccups and all. Someone who is only a friend normally wouldn’t get jealous like that. What if this doesn’t go well and ends up ruining the relationship they do have? They might not even want the same things. Neither has talked about it. This is agonizing. Confusing. Driving her straight up a wall. 

Perhaps it started before Saturday night and she refused to acknowledge it. Staring at him right now, it feels like she’s on the cusp of… something. It’s way bigger than herself. The size of an ocean. This is like taking those initial few steps into the water at the beach. At first, it's freezing and then after getting used to the temperature, it’s easier to keep going. Except this water is deep and murky. It’s impossible to see the bottom. That’s already daunting and she’s barely dipped her toes in so far.

“Chrissy?” 

That snaps her out of it. Ignoring the man studying her, she pulls away and takes a step back. Why complicate things even more? She might be vulnerable right now and seeking comfort. It wouldn't be fair to him.

“Not bad.” Eddie exhales sharply, inspecting himself in the mirror. He lifts his chin and turns it side to side. A helpful distraction. “If we decide to switch up after making it big, you can come along and work your magic. I don’t think I’d trust anyone else putting pointy crap near my eyes. Unless your studio’s open by then.” 

“That’s flattering but my skills are basic at best.”

“Hey, if you can make this mug half decent, then you’re a miracle worker. That or a sorceress.” Long fingers graze along his chin as he observes the reflection, taking small glances at her in it. “Not sure which yet. Need some more time to figure it out.”

“Miracle worker? No, you just have good features.” 

That draws out an odd reaction. Turning in the seat, he looks up at her with his nose crinkled like that was gross. “Good features? That’s a new one. You’re real freaky, you know that? Maybe we should get you checked out.” 

Eddie is an attractive person. It’s not hard to understand how some people might miss that. She did. The first thing most would notice is his hair and style, which stands out in a conservative town like Hawkins. Quickly followed by his loud voice and big personality. Adding it together, those tend to overshadow the rest of him. 

‘I like those parts. All of them. Even the supposed bad ones.’

“You’ve been wearing it, huh?” Following his gaze, Chrissy gasps at the Hellfire shirt sticking out from the top of the duvet. Exactly where she left it this morning. That was meant to go into the hamper. The way his eyes narrow playfully makes her flush. 

“Yeah.” She walks over to the bed and snatches up the tee, holding it to her chest. “It’s so comfy. I love it.” The side of her mouth twitches from the expression on his face. Well, the lack of one. A blank look with him eyeing his club’s shirt pressed against her uniform top. “Do you guys order these from somewhere?”

“We… make them.” 

“Really?!” That’s cool. This guy knows how to do so many different things. “I had no idea.” He slowly nods, shifting in his seat. “Is there a way to customize them? Like, change the color of the sleeves? Or do they already come like this without the design?”

“What? You don't like them as they are?” His tone sounds different. Almost letdown. 

“No, they’re great. Honestly. I sleep in it all the time. I'm worried it's going to wear it out too quickly. I thought having another one to switch between would be a good idea and that popped up after you said you make them and… Nevermind. Forget I said anything.” He probably thinks she's ungrateful. Getting a shirt despite not being a member was already more than nice. 

‘Me and my stupid greedy mouth. Why did I have to tell him that?'

He’s quiet for a moment, sitting there tapping his fingers against the side of the chair. “Let me guess. You’d make it pink, right?” That’s a relief. Much better than him being offended. Seems like he’s got her all figured out sometimes. “What kind of pink are we talkin’?”

“Pastel pink is my favorite. If you have to go out of your way to get it, you don't have to bother. It's okay.” Chrissy sits down on the edge of the bed and puts the shirt down next to her thigh, trying to calm the jitters. Seeing him in eyeliner is still throwing her off. It makes him look more like a bad boy than he already does. As if there needed to be another reason to get all gaga around him. 

“...I’ll see what I can do.”

“Hmm.” Chrissy focuses on the mirror, doing a cheer pose with imaginary pompoms. Not bad. It doesn’t cover as much as the one stashed away in the closet but it'll do. 

Small hands skim over her hips as she turns to the side. Better than before. Still not where she wants to be though. There’s a lot of work ahead. At least the reflection isn't making her upset. It’s an improvement. A big step in the right direction. 

‘I need to start getting ready.’

She's been standing in front of the vanity with only her bra and panties for a while now. One of her worst hobbies was doing this to pick herself apart and come up with a list of everything wrong. This time she’s trying to do it with positive ones. It’s not an easy task. Starting small should help. Hopefully the list will grow longer somewhere down the road. 

‘Skin is clear. That's a plus. My hair is okay. Being short isn’t the worst.’

That’s good enough for now. She heads to the closet to choose an outfit. It’s Thursday so no cheer practice. Thank goodness. One less thing to do. Today is already gearing up to be a mess as it is. The fallout from happened after practice. 

Moving down the row of hangers, a light turquoise jumpsuit catches her attention. Fitting for the current mood. Despite the inevitable drama at school, she’s in high spirits. Not even Jason can completely ruin it. That isn’t happening. It’s the first day of starting over. 

Now dressed, she sits at the vanity and pulls out a white scrunchie from the drawer, throwing her hair into a ponytail. A casual look. Nothing too fancy. She blushes thinking about last night. How someone else did this for her instead...

Eddie stayed over really late. She didn't want him to leave but neither of them would’ve gotten any sleep with him here. What keeps that man running is a mystery. He’s a ball of energy.

The tightness in her chest is still there. It’s a little better with him out of sight, yet the sensation continues to linger. Such a wonderful feeling. So warm and bright. Everything is extra vibrant today, like the tree outside of the window. The leaves are so green and the sky is a beautiful shade of blue. Is this that high on life thing people talk about?

Glancing over at the clock, it’s time to get going. Charlotte will be here soon. She called her last night to ask for a ride. Eddie offered a handful of times to do it himself but was turned down. He’s already doing more than enough as it is. It’s better to leave earlier in case the Jeep shows up as usual. That’ll be too awkward.

Next on the big to-do list is working on getting a car. Then no one has to be inconvenienced. That’s all that’s missing now that she has a driver's license.

The Riviera is already parked by the curb when she heads out. There’s no doubt an interrogation will occur. Not that anyone could blame her. Most people would be confused in this situation. Once the passenger side door opens, it begins. 

“What the hell is going on, girl?!”

Chrissy tries to stop herself from smirking at the reaction. Eddie might be something of a bad influence. She drops her bookbag on the floor and sits down, prepared for the onslaught of questions. Promising an explanation was part of the deal. “I go to the bathroom with Nat and Julie for a few minutes and come out to pandemonium.”

‘Pandemonium? That sounds exciting.’

“All I’m hearing is that you left practice holding hands with that Munson guy. The others are saying you’re cheating. Jason is trying to keep them all quiet. So, what happened?” Charlotte is caught between being shocked and intrigued. If anything, she’s dying to be in the know. 

This is her area of expertise. Drama and relationships. Consulting her first would've been a smart move but she dropped the ball on that. It’s becoming clearer lately that a person can’t always do everything on their own. Sometimes asking for help is necessary. 

“It’s true.” The brunette jumps back against the seat with a gasp, clutching the front of her blouse. “Except for the cheating part. I broke up with Jason yesterday morning. He’s… having a hard time accepting it.” 

That’s an understatement. It’s ridiculous. He rejected the rejection and now wants to keep this all quiet. Perhaps she should’ve expected it. If everyone at school doesn’t find out, did it even happen? Sure, the incident in the hallway will make her look horrible. That could work to his benefit. On the other hand, having people think he lost his girlfriend to the ‘town freak’ is unbearable. A real blow to his pride. The negatives outweigh any positives on his end.

“Hold the phone! Hold up, hold up! Am I in the Twilight Zone? What’s been happening? And without my knowledge? Chris, do you not trust me or something? I thought girlfriends were supposed to talk to each other. I don't know if I should be more hurt or impressed that you pulled this off under our noses.” The disappointment on Charlotte's face makes her shoulders drop. 

“I wasn’t exactly sure what was going on myself.” She lays a hand over one of hers, hoping there will be some sort of understanding. Maybe it’s time to start being more honest with the people close to her. They don’t need to know every detail. “I’ll fill you in. Can we get going first? I don't want us to be here if Jason swings by.”

“Sure. You better tell me everything, missy. No skimping out on any parts either.”

The Riviera slowly pulls into a space in the parking lot. Charlotte hasn't said much in the last ten minutes. They took the long way to school. She drove around the nearby neighborhood while giving Chrissy a chance to explain things. 

This was difficult. Certain segments needed to be left out. That guy might not care who knows what but both deserve some privacy. Besides, it’s not like they’re a thing. There’s no reason to make this a bigger deal than it is. 

“I’m not sure if the others will stay hush-hush about yesterday but it’ll be okay. If it’s not, who cares? We have like three months of school left.” Charlotte turns to eye someone across the lot. “And seriously? Screw Jason. That two-bit beer-chugging hypocrite can shove it. I put up with his preachy crap because I thought you loved him. We figured you believed in that garbage Pastor Bennett used to say. Well, that and you were a prude.” 

“I stopped believing that stuff a while ago. It's not easy to keep buying into it when everyone else isn’t being damned. I don’t know. I didn’t want to. Not with him anyway.” That's what they say about her. Prude. They're right. Sex doesn't have to be about love or finding the right moment. Those were excuses she told herself to feel better about it and she doesn't regret it. 

“But sheesh. Jason has zero sense. There’s nothing romantic about that. He’s such a little turd!” As the self-proclaimed ‘Goddess of Love’ for Hawkins High, crossing certain lines is sacrilege. Cheating, coercion, and being cheap. The Three C's. A person is less than dirt if they break those laws. “I’m glad you dumped him. This is all so crazy. My head is spinning.” She sighs, pressing a hand to her forehead. 

“I know. It’s a lot for me too. Everything happened so fast.” The last month seems extremely long. Looking back, it wasn’t. So much in such a short amount of time. Chrissy from six weeks ago never would’ve believed any of this. She might’ve tried to smack some sense into herself. 

“Okay, answer me this. If you wanted it to be clear you two are over, why make a spectacle with that weirdo? Is it because Jason hates him? I mean, there are plenty of guys who would’ve jumped at the chance. I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around this. This is like, clique treason or whatever.” 

Chrissy bristles at the insult. Does everyone have to call him names? “Believe it or not, Eddie is actually a really good person. I don’t care about that and this wasn’t some underhanded plot we hatched to make Jason angry. He’s my friend. We started talking a while before I even thought of breaking things off.”

“A good person? Him? I have my doubts but if you say so… This is still super weird. Don’t get me wrong, I love sinking my teeth into some drama. I never expected it from you of all people. Maybe I underestimated you. Or I overestimated my ability to detect it.”

“Maybe a bit of both.” She grins, lifting her shoulder. Charlotte reaches over to slap the bangle on her wrist. "Ooh. We should head in. Ugh, this won't be fun. I’m worried how he’s going to react.” 

“If Jason’s smart, he won’t. That guy cares too much about what everyone thinks. Doing something stupid like blowing up at you is a great way to find himself stuck in a corner with only his idiot friends. And that’s a best-case scenario for him.” She says menacingly, grabbing her purse off the floor. 

That went better than she imagined. Theatrics on the way up here included. At least there’s another person who knows her side of things. Letting Natalie in on it would be smart unless someone beats her to it. 

When they walk up to the school, Chrissy’s stomach sinks as soon as she spots the white and green varsity jacket up ahead. Jason is leaning against the front of the building with Andy and Chance flanking him. Is it being too naïve to hope it’s for a different reason than what comes to mind? That isn't where they usually hang out before the bell rings. 

‘Don’t make eye contact. Keep your head up. Walk normally.’

“Chris.” He kicks off the wall and makes a beeline straight for her. 

“Back off, asshole.” Charlotte throws her arm out, getting in the way. Refusing to let him get close. “Go hang out with your buddies and leave us alone.”

“Charlotte the Harlot sure has a mouth on her.” Andy laughs at his own joke. That stupid nickname some of the guys gave her during sophomore year. 

“Don’t call her that!” She’s pissed. It's been festering under the surface for a long time and she doesn't care anymore. Andy and Chance look at each other, surprised by the outburst. 

“Enough. Knock it off, guys.” Their captain scowls at them in warning and it works. No more insults come tumbling out from either side but the tension is making this uncomfortable. “We need to talk. Now. This can’t wait.” 

“That sounds more like an order than a request.” After everything mentioned in the car, it’s clear her friend is done playing nice so they all get along. They know how it is. If the social circle their parents orbit taught them anything, it’s that the way a person acts around others can be very different from how they are in private. 

“Fine.” Chrissy ignores the wide eyes staring at her from the side. This was inevitable. “If you want to talk, then let’s talk. You have four minutes.” 

“Are you sure?” 

She gives Charlotte what’s supposed to be a reassuring smile and nods. Hopefully this brave act can continue. In reality, her nerves are all over the place. Who wants to deal with this kind of stuff so early in the morning? 

Jason motions for her to follow him. Against her better judgment, she does. Away from the front and around the side of the building. Somewhere the others can’t see them. When he keeps walking, alarm bells go off. 

“This is far enough.” Regardless of where he intended to do this, she isn't taking another step. They don’t need to go to the football field or into the forest for a conversation. School is starting soon anyway. It’s also better to be within shouting distance. 

Jason stops and sighs, slowly turning towards her. Similar emotions from the last time they were in the Jeep pass over his face. Disappointment, hurt, confusion, and most importantly, anger. “Why?” There it is. “Why did you have to go do something like that? And with the freak?”   

‘Stay calm. Don’t let it get under your skin. Nothing will change this.’

He runs a hand through his hair, agitated. The muscles along his jaw keep tensing as he glances around. “Did you cheat on me? I don’t get it. This isn’t you. I know it’s not.”

“I never cheated on anyone.” The lump in her throat is making it hard to speak. That question has been nagging her for the last couple of weeks. Is it cheating? They haven’t gone on a date, kissed, or done anything physical. Laying together was the extent of it until she broke up with Jason. The most intimate it got was holding hands and playing with each other’s hair. “You don’t understand at all.”

“Then why don’t you clue me in, babe? Maybe it’s you who doesn’t understand. You’re not getting the bigger picture. I’ve bent over backward to be a good boyfriend.” He puts his hand on his hips, glowering. “What do I get in return? Some trailer trash getting in between us. Using you for God knows what.” 

This is a huge waste of time. Part of her wanted to clear the air. They started going out around seven months ago. She can’t remember the exact date. Only that it was near the beginning of the school year. He was her first longtime boyfriend and before that, friend. It was stupid to think they could separate on good terms. 

‘I messed up. This was a mistake. It's all a mistake. I shouldn’t have followed him.’

Being next to Charlotte made her braver. Alone? That’s a different story. With Jason standing so close, it’s like he’s towering over her, making her feel so small by comparison. Not long ago, she would’ve started apologizing and tried to appease him by now. That can’t happen again. It won't. 

“If it makes it any easier, just stare at my back and pretend they’re not there.”

‘I don’t want to stare at his back. I’d rather be someone who can walk on my own. Beside him.’

“Stop talking about Eddie like that. He's a great guy and I can figure things out on my own. I’m not an idiot.” She squeezes her bookbag strap, digging her nails into it. “This is going nowhere. The bell is going to ring soon and I have to talk to Natalie about something.” 

Spinning on her heel, she goes to trudge back to the front of the building when a hand grabs her wrist. “What do you mean?” His grip tightens and panic sets in. “Knock it off. We haven’t even settled anything yet.”

“Let. Go. Now.” A scowl spreads across her face as she attempts to wrench her arm away from him. This isn’t funny. "You had your four minutes."

“Fine, have it your way.” Jason finally peels his fingers off and tuts, annoyed at how she’s acting. “We’ll finish this later. Just… stop with the games. I don’t appreciate you trying to embarrass me in front of people. Don’t stoop to that freak’s level.” 

He doesn’t get a response. There’s nothing more to talk about. That was enough. They’re not leaving on good terms. Forget being friends again. 

Chrissy bites down on her lip as she rushes off, not wanting to be anywhere near him at the moment. This confirms it. Breaking up was the right choice. People separate and get back together all the time. If he's like this now, how would things go later down the road? 

No, they’re not going to finish this later. It’s already done. This took a lot out of her but she has to stand her ground. He can't always get his way. Even if she's a trembling mess on the verge of crying, she tried. That’s what matters.

‘Yay. Meatloaf again. I should bring my own lunch.’

Everyone swears up and down the lunch ladies have been giving them old leftovers. From the sorry state of this beef, that wouldn’t be a huge surprise. Their school is always trying to find ways to cut corners recently and it shows. 

Walking towards the tables, her gaze drifts over to the one belonging to the Hellfire Club. An act that’s become a habit recently. As usual, the guys are talking excitedly and eating. Grant is standing with a book held against his chest, pointing at a page. Gareth smacks the table and laughs. It seems like they're having a good time. That’s how it should be. 

Chrissy blushes when their leader looks up from the snacks he’s tossing at the freshman boys to give her a knowing smirk. Dustin glances over to see what he’s staring at before leaning in to whisper something. Whatever he said caused Eddie to put him in a headlock. 

‘They’re funny.’ 

She giggles and heads to her table. There is a particular order to them that's been around long before she ever passed through the front doors. A couple are free to anyone. The outcasts and freshmen typically end up at those. It’s ripe for recruitment at the beginning of the year. Otherwise, they’re left alone. No one really pays attention to the people who sit there. 

The sports teams take up their own area with a bunch of tables clustered near each other on the far side of the cafeteria, away from the windows. That’s great when it’s cold out or too bright. It’s closer to the vents as well. She doesn’t have to sit here. The entire lunchroom is fair game but that isn't happening.

Jason is in his normal seat. This is going to be so uncomfortable. Letting out a deep breath, she holds her head up and strides over. He’s already taken enough. More than anyone should’ve gotten. She refuses to let him take this too.

As soon as she gets close, eyes peer up at her from along the row. A mixed reaction. Curiosity, surprise, disdain. The latter is mostly from his friends. Andy, in particular. Jason himself quickly turns away when she sits down, going back to the current conversation he’s in. That’s how it’s been all day from the jocks who were there yesterday. God knows what he said to them but the drama has been pretty contained so far. That won’t last. It’s only fourth period so there’s still time left. 

‘Does anyone even know we’re not together besides Charlotte?’

It’s not clear. They might just think she’s a cheater. The school would have erupted from that kind of news. That means it hasn’t spread yet. She'll give it one more day before that happens. Believing no one will say anything at all is silly. Jason doesn’t have that much sway. 

“That’s such a cute outfit, Chris.” Sandy sits up to get a better view. “Where did you get it from?”

Kimmy from the team does the same as she finishes a cup of pudding. “Yeah, I like that color. Looks good on you.”

No matter how chilly the basketball team wants to make the table, she still has friends. “Thanks. I got it from Marie’s. They have it in pink and yellow too.” Chrissy smiles, relieved everyone isn't giving her the cold shoulder. That doubles from seeing Natalie, Charlotte, and John coming with their trays.

‘I’m not going anywhere.’

Shoving the bathroom door open, Amber glides to the mirror above the sink. Halfway through the day and already in need of a touch–up. How sad. She digs through her purse for concealer. 

‘It's getting worse. Stupid Sandy. Her and that bimbo never know when to shut up. Where's that brush? I'm sure I brought it.'

This should cover the dark spots but not the rest. So useless. Makeup has a long way to go. What's the point of concealer if it can't even hide this? Only a few hours left until school is over. There’s time afterward to figure something out. Ice should do the trick.

A small amount is dabbed beneath her eyes and gently blended in. That’s better. Back to normal. She runs a hand through her hair and stares at the reflection. It won’t be long. Later tonight, everyone is meeting up at Chance’s to hang out and she’s excited. Jason is going to be there too. This could finally be her big chance. It’s wrong. This is going to cause problems with the team but what’s a girl to do? The heart wants what it wants. Is breaking the code worth it? 

Yes.

Since moving to Hawkins freshman year, she’s had a huge crush on him. The problem is that he’s only had eyes for one person this whole time. Her friend. A tragedy worthy of a soap opera. 

‘It’s not fair.’

She always has to work ten times harder to get anything. It isn’t easy to become popular. Keeping that status is a continuous struggle. Trying to get nice clothes at a discount without it being obvious. Altering second-hand pieces to make them passable. Spending so much time perfecting hairstyles and her makeup. Putting effort into going to every get-together. Rubbing elbows with the right people. Hiding a very unglamorous living situation. Going above and beyond to prove she deserves a place at the table. It’s exhausting. Their parents have money. None of them could understand.

Natalie, skank face Charlotte, tacky Trish, Patrick the punching bag, Chance. They get on her nerves. Not as much as Chrissy does. All she has to do is flash that smile and people step aside for her. She barely goes to parties anymore. Doesn’t have to lift a finger. Rich, pretty, spoiled. Now everyone is acting like nothing happened. Unbelievable. If she pulled this, they would’ve banished her from the table without a second thought. Make her sit in the loser’s section. 

‘Why does she get special treatment? I would've been kicked out.’

Chrissy has been like a rabbit since junior year. Not the same person she admired. Is that why they turn a blind eye? Out of sympathy? Or is it because of Jason? They act like she’s some angel sent from above. That’s not how it is at all. People wouldn’t think that if they knew how many times she’s run to the bathroom during lunch to throw her guts up. Amber has kept that secret to herself for a while. 

"If you want to talk or anything, I’m here.”

‘Stop. Stop! She’s my friend. I shouldn’t think like that. Chrissy’s always been nice to me.’

“Dammit!” Gripping the sides of the sink, she lets out a deep breath. Why won’t these feelings go away? This… resentment. It won't stop. The guilt is eating her alive. She can’t stand it anymore. All of this only really started bubbling up recently and it's getting worse. Everything is getting worse. And sleep? What’s that? 

"What am I supposed to do?" Amber moves closer to the mirror, squinting at the reflection. “Oh, what? Now that I need help, you’re going to stay quiet?”

A toilet flushes and she jumps, whirling around. Someone was in here? The door swings open and a dark-skinned girl comes out. Val. Another junior on the cheer team. She looks across the stalls, not seeing anyone else. “Who are you talking to?”

“No one.”

“It was a little awkward but that’s about it,” Chrissy eyes the guy lying across the steps. “He didn’t say anything to me then.”

Eddie is leaning back on his elbow, lazily tossing skittles into his mouth. When she went to the bathroom during study hall, they ran into each other and decided to take a detour. That detour led right to the stairwell this man haunts on a daily basis. He was pretty interested to know what’s been going on and once again, she opened up a bit. Some details were left out though.

“Not gonna lie. Kinda surprised me when you sat down next to him after that.”

“I’m not letting him run me out of my own seat. That’s been my chair all year. The only way someone else is getting it is if I don’t go here anymore or I choose to leave it. Besides, most of my friends are at that table. He can move if there’s a problem.”

After catching another piece of candy, he stares at her for a moment before grinning. “That’s what I like to hear! Screw ‘em.” 

She smiles and pushes off the wall to sit beside him. He’s very kind. Not many people would want to listen to her complain, let alone encourage it. That 'feeling' hasn’t gone away yet. It’s still there, buried snuggly in her chest with apparently no intentions of going away. What if it doesn't? Perhaps that wouldn't be so bad. 

"Oh right." Tugging up her sleeve, she groans at the time on her watch. “The bell is going to ring in fifteen minutes. I have to get going soon.” 

“Lame.” He says, peeking into the small bag to see if there are any skittles left. 

“Not all of us can take naps and lounge around during class.” She doesn't want to go but not coming back from the bathroom will make the teachers less lenient with her. They were always willing to sign hall passes because she’s usually responsible. 

“You nerds could if you repeated the same year a few times. It takes a lot of hard work and dedication to pull that off.”

“That’s more of a reason for you not to play games.” This guy is always goofing off. Ditching, sleeping, lurking the halls… Will they graduate together? This is his third round as a senior. Schools must have a limit. Otherwise, someone can keep going year after year if they want. 

The candy bag gets stuffed into his vest pocket and Eddie turns to her, arching a brow. “Are you… giving me a talking to? Is that what this is?” He slides over on the step until their legs are touching. 

“I didn’t mean for it to sound that way.”

“No, I don’t mind.” Draping an arm over her shoulders, he leans in close. Close enough that the tip of his nose is almost touching her cheek. “Tell me off, princess. Go ahead. I’m a big boy. I can take it.” He says playfully, giving her a little nudge. 

“No way!” Chrissy curls away from him, turning into a giddy mess. “I wouldn’t do that. Not unless you really deserved it.”

“Probably do.” He snorts, checking his watch. “Got like ten left.”

“I’ll give you eight.” That will leave a couple of minutes to grab her bookbag from study hall and head to next period. She isn't exactly eager to leave. Staying with him is a much better way to spend her time. 

“Sweet. I’ll take it.”

Jason frowns while lining up the pool cue with a ball in front of him. It’s hard to concentrate. All the chatter isn’t helping. He shoots and misses. Cursing under his breath, the stick is handed off to a younger teammate to take over. They can play instead. This is only making his bad mood worse. 

“Hey, it’s not a big deal. Let’s relax and have a good time.” Patrick speaks up, only for the frown to turn into a scowl. That's his answer. 

Sitting down on a stool, he folds his arms, brooding over what’s going on. The team is unwinding at Chance’s house before later tonight when he’s expecting more people to come by. His parents go away often so it’s a perfect hangout spot outside of Benny's. 

“If that freak was moving in on my territory, I’d kick his ass all over town. He’s been pushing it for years. Graduation is coming up so this is a last-ditch effort to get his way.” Andy stops chalking the cue tip to glance over and shrugs. “I’m just saying. Doing nothing is giving him the green light. I still can’t believe Chrissy was dumb enough to fall for it.”

“Watch it.” Jason gives him a look to shut that down quickly. “Don’t talk about her that way. She’s not dumb. Just a little naïve when it comes to men. She isn’t the first person he’s tricked and won’t be the last.” 

“Alright, I get it. Chrissy’s off the table.” He rolls his eyes, blowing off the excess chalk. “I don’t know why she gets a pass when it takes two to tango.”

“Give it a rest. We’re supposed to be chilling.” Chance comes in with a case of soda and sets it down on the bar counter. “Forget about it. At least for tonight.”

Easy for them to say. It’s not their lives being toyed with. When Andy mentioned catching those two talking last week, he should’ve taken it seriously. Put a stop to anything before it got out of hand. Is there a way to fix this? What is he supposed to tell his parents? This entire thing makes him frustrated. More than that… sad. He failed. Such a huge failure. 

None of this makes sense. Things were fine until a couple of days ago. Nothing out of the ordinary. The tournament is going well. College acceptance letters came in. His life was great. A pretty girlfriend. Plenty of friends. People’s respect. Now it’s taken a turn for the worse. One of the major components is missing. Where did it go wrong?

'That prick is ruining everything.’

He's upset with Chris but not mad at her. This is someone else’s doing. They’ve known each other for years. She’s not the type of person to pull this. It came out of nowhere like a punch to the gut. If there was an issue, why didn't she try to talk things out? That’s what mature people do. This is middle school behavior. After dating for so long, he deserves an explanation. At minimum. 

This isn’t how it was supposed to go. He did what they asked of him. Listened to his parents, Pastor Bennett, and the others. Was their advice wrong or his execution of it? Regardless, there are darker forces at work. That’s what happens when someone strays from the light. The freak obviously gets his kicks from preying on the innocent. Same way he roped in freshmen at the beginning of the year into joining that ‘club’. 

Maybe something similar went down with Chris. A lot of changes are headed her way. In the next couple of months, she loses her position as head cheerleader and her status in school once they graduate. Having to start over from the bottom is a rough deal. 

Men have a different experience. Their hierarchy continues. He’ll still be known as a basketball star and run his group long after they leave school. It's guaranteed if their team wins the championship. Unlike her, he’s set for life. That’s how it is for women. They sink, swim, or find some driftwood floating by that’s stable enough for them to cling onto. Right now, she’s attempting to jump off a yacht to drown herself.

This could be a crisis from not knowing where she’ll belong. Without cheerleading, what’s left? A person facing such a huge shift is vulnerable and an easy target for people with bad intentions like Munson. That guy will steal her soul if given the chance. She’s nice enough to let him. 

‘I have to do something.’

“Come on, guys.” Sliding off the stool, Jason motions for the core group to follow along. 

“Where we going?” Patrick says, putting away the pool stick. The others seem unsure of what’s going on as well. 

“Freak hunting. Let’s go. It’ll be over before anyone shows up.” His eyes trail over to the freshman standing on the opposite side of the table. Time to show his true mettle to the rest of them. “You too, Sinclair. You’re part of the team so get a move on.” They have a few hours to search. He has a couple of places in mind to check. Worst-case scenario, they can ask around. It shouldn't be too difficult in this small town.

“Give me five more minutes.” Gareth holds up his hand for emphasis. 

“Take your time, man. No rush.” It’s not like they’re going anywhere. The drummer disappears behind the door that leads into the house from the garage. The rest go back to what they were already doing. Jeff is crouched down adjusting his amp. Across the space, Grant is sitting on a stool, reading a comic book.

‘Damn Hetfield. The guy is a goddamn monster.’

Biting down on a toothpick, Eddie glances at the fingers on the neck of his guitar. The other hand is busy with the pick. Just getting the coordination down and trying to figure this beast out. Eight and a half minutes of the nastiest thrash metal. The intro alone has three riffs and a variation of one. 

He planned on learning ‘Master of Puppets’ anyway. Chrissy's request only gives him extra incentive to get it done. She can't hear it until he can pull it off flawlessly. The song is wild. Played almost entirely in downstroke eighth notes at a fast tempo. One issue with downstrokes is that after a while, it’s killer on the forearms. He also has to stay mindful of tension in his picking wrist and shoulder. Nothing he can’t handle though. 

The band is supposed to start practice soon. They’re waiting for Gareth to finish up whatever he’s doing for his mom. Might as well spend the extra time working on this. Two weeks is all it should take to reel in this demon. Maybe three at most to have it perfected, only because he can’t sit around with his guitar all day. If that were the case, that estimate would be a hell of a lot shorter. 

‘She’s not gonna know what hit her.’

Between this and a new shirt, the little cheerleader should be pleased. The club members sure won’t after the flack they got for asking the same thing in the past. Red. Blue. Green. Oh well. He’s not here to make everyone’s dreams come true. The guys probably won’t understand but they’ll have to suck it up. Chrissy gets what Chrissy wants. It’s that simple. 

The sound of tires screeching draws all of their attention. In this quiet neighborhood, there’s only one person who drives like an asshole and it’s Eddie himself. A familiar Jeep comes flying around the corner. The Douchemobile. Packed to the brim with the biggest douchebags Hawkins has to offer.

“What the hell is this?” Grant shoots up from his seat, tossing the comic onto the stool. 

Eddie spits out the toothpick. They're in no way geniuses but it doesn’t take one to figure out what’s about to go down. Took them long enough. Unplugging his guitar, it’s gently placed on a shelf along the wall. If there’s gonna be a fight, the last thing he needs is someone’s feet getting caught up in the cables and damaging his equipment. 

The Jeep whips into the driveway, stopping halfway. Carver and a handful of his lackeys pile out. Interestingly, Sinclair is in tow. So the dark side actually got to him. Is that how they knew where to go? Did he give them directions?

‘I’m not giving that slingshot back now.’

“There you are, freak. Been looking all over for you. I was wondering what rock you were hiding under.” Captain Toolbox says smugly, striding closer to the garage. If they were searching for him at different places, then did Sinclair not rat them out? He isn’t making eye contact with them. They must’ve dragged him along. 

“I’ve been in plain sight this whole time. Gotta admit I’m pretty disappointed, Carver. You kept me waiting.” He walks towards the entrance, trying to put distance between him and the equipment. These hams are here for one person. Him. The band shouldn’t have to get their stuff broken for something he did. It’ll set them back a lot. 

“Only because I didn’t know what kind of bullcrap you were pulling. Now, let’s have a chat.” His eyes narrow on him before trailing down to his hands. “Take those off.”

Eddie’s brows jump as he raises both hands, wiggling his fingers for them to see. “Oh, these? You worried they might ruin those dashing good looks? ‘Cause they will but no dice.” Does this dumbass think he’s that stupid? Not happening. 

The resentment on his mug at the refusal says it all. This is how a person acts when they’re used to people doing as they're told. That doesn’t fly here. They aren’t his sheep to herd around. 

The situation isn’t great. It’s three against six since Gareth is still inside and there’s no telling when he’ll pop out. Jeff is down for battle. Grant isn't much of a fighter yet the big guy tries and that’s enough. They’re at a disadvantage right off the bat, even without taking into consideration these jerks are on a sports team. Each one of them works out more than the entire band combined. 

Like hell the rings are coming off. If things get ugly, their side needs any edge they can get. Screw playing fair. These guys won’t. It mostly comes down to him again as the oldest, tallest, and most experienced out of the group. He’s the target anyway. Big surprise.

“Are you that much of a coward that you won’t fight me man–to–man?” 

“Pshh. I don’t care about any of that. Man-to-man? You’re showing how much of a coddled little pissant you are. That’s not how any of this works.” He was expecting an all-out brawl. Not this. Looking at Carver, it doesn’t seem like he's fully into it. That isn’t the expression or body language of a man intent on having a slugfest. Are they only here because his boys were ragging on him? Pathetic. 

“...Dude.” Grant hisses. Yeah, he knows. They’d rather not fight, especially with their stuff behind them. One good tackle and the drum set is done for. Gareth’s parents are inside too. They should do this at a different spot. There’s an open field nearby.   

"I’ll tell you how this works. You’re going to stay far away from Chris. Got it?” He tilts his chin down, his wide blue eyes filled with burning contempt. To the right, the idiot with curly hair nods in approval and Eddie can’t resist laughing. “What’s so funny, freak?”

“Let me level with you boys. I’m not doing shit. Sure as hell not following any commands. If she doesn’t want me around, it can come from her mouth. Alone. Not her ex’s.” The way Carver's face pales makes everything clearer. Also the blatant confusion on the L-Team. “So that’s it. You didn’t tell anyone she dumped your ass already, huh?” This is too good. What a chump. 

“Alright, guys. I’m—” The door swings open and Gareth comes out, freezing in place when noticing there’s company. “Oh damn.” His eyes dart from one end of the garage to the other. 

“Yeah, you just walked into a shitshow.” Jeff chuckles as the drummer hesitantly stands beside him. "We have a real shituation on our hands."

How stupid. All of it. Chrissy wasn’t kidding about him saying ‘no’ to the break up. This is embarrassing. 

‘Knew it.’

Eddie had a feeling this would get ugly. Of course he was going to come for him. Some guys don’t take rejection well. It can be a massive blow to the ego. An egomaniac like this tool is the type to lash out. That’s whatever as long as it’s directed toward him instead of Chrissy. Problem is, he's not confident that won’t happen or that she’ll speak up if it does. 

“We gonna do this or what? I know you didn’t come here to do–si–do. You guys are boring me and I got things to do so hurry it up.” 

Carver scowls, crinkling his nose in disgust. Isn’t this what he wanted? “If you won’t stop playing games with my girl, then get rid of those and let’s see who the bigger man is. No more messing around. Winner takes all.” 

He stares at him blankly. “Nah.” 

“What?!”   

“I said ‘nah’. I’m good on that.” Seeing that Carver’s still not getting it, he’ll have to spell it out for him. “You got—”

“This is bullshit. What’s wrong, freak? The pussy not worth getting your hands dirty? Let’s do it already. Forget his jewelry.” Andy says loudly with a smirk. A lame attempt to piss him off and get a reaction. It works. A little too well. 

“You shut the fuck up!” Eddie snaps, tossing his jacket off and marching forward. That did it. Screw everything. This guy is getting an ass beating even if it means the others use it to sneak free shots in. These jerkoffs can talk all the trash they want about him. He’s used to it. Saying crap like that though? In front of him? Hell no. 

“Eddie, wait!” Arms wrap around his torso, trying to pull him back. He’s too angry right now. The forearm digging into the bruise on his side isn’t helping. Whoever it is might get an elbow to the ribs. “Calm down, dude. You’re not thinking straight. That’s exactly what they want.” No shit. And that’s what they’re going to get. Bending to plant his feet on the concrete floor, he takes a large step, dragging whoever’s hanging on with him. Sounds like Jeff. Their rhythm guitarist is going for a ride unless he lets go.

Slap.

To everyone’s astonishment, Carver turns and smacks his friend across the face. Not a baby tap. An open-handed, full bitch slap. The strike echoes through the garage and silence follows. No longer needing to restrain him, Jeff backs off and glances at his bandmates. They’re all just as stunned. 

“I warned you." His voice is harsh to sound commanding to the sheep around him. "We’re talking. You guys stay out of it.” Andy presses a hand against the fresh print on his cheek and silently seethes, not retaliating. 

‘Asshole did something almost decent for once in his life. Probably for the wrong reasons. If he didn’t do it, I definitely would’ve. Maybe I still should. Tch. Is this who you really wanna hang out with, Sinclair?’

How disappointing. Is it worth the price? The kid will always have to walk on eggshells while worrying if any small thing will put him in their crosshairs. That's what the underclassmen have to deal with when they worm their way into the ‘popular’ crowd. 

“Guys. My mom is gonna come out here and flip from all the noise. Like, flip. Can’t we take this somewhere else? Music is one thing but this...” Gareth says under his breath so the jocks don’t hear. 

“There’s that park around the corner,” Jeff suggests, also keeping it down. 

“Finish it, Munster.” That draws his attention away from Gareth fretting to the dumbass sizing him up. So clever. Seriously. Like he’s never heard that one before. “What’s it going to be? Are you going to chicken out?”

He almost forgot. The entertainment from Andy finally getting whacked derailed his train of thought. “Dude, Chris–sy isn’t your girl anymore. I don’t give two shits who the bigger man is either.” This is already getting old. He could be practicing instead of playing useless games. “And the whole ‘winner takes all’ crap? Piss off. She’s not a goddamn prize that goes to whoever wins a stupid fight. Drill that into your thick skull.” 

‘This guy is a real piece of garbage. Chrissy doesn’t belong to anyone except herself. Christ. People aren’t commodities. It’s not that hard to get.’

“All the trouble you caused us and you won’t lift a finger for her? What a shame. I knew you were low Munson but didn’t realize how deep it runs. You’ve made such a mess that I have to clean up and for what? To get under my skin? Or do you get your rocks off from taking advantage of someone innocent?” If looks could kill, Eddie would be a dead man. Good thing they don’t.  

“There’s a difference between fighting for someone and fighting over them. I’ll throw down for her. Hell yeah. But I’m not gonna sit here and pretend I get to call dibs on her as some kind of trophy.” Cracking his knuckles, he smirks at the basketball captain. Going at it out front? Very well. Gareth’s parents can get an apology afterward. “So when I break your nose, it’s because you’re an asshole who pisses me off.”

“Good Lord in heaven.” The door opens and a small woman with short curly hair pokes her head out. “What’s all this racket? Aren’t you supposed to be—” She pauses, seeing over twice the amount of people in the garage than there should be. “What’s going on out here? Who are you boys?” 

“Mom, it’s—”

“Ma’am,” Carver slips his hands into the pockets of the varsity jacket, flashing a bright smile at the older woman. She blinks, surprised at the display. They’re very different from those who normally hang around the house. “We were about to leave. I'm sorry for causing a disturbance. That wasn’t my intention. Our team can get a bit rowdy sometimes.” 

“That’s… That’s okay.” 

Eddie wants to puke from witnessing this piss-poor performance. That works on Mrs. R since she doesn’t know them but damn. Phony as hell. Ten times worse than the fake smile Chrissy uses. His demeanor and tone completely changed in a few seconds. It's like a costume to wear in front of people to appear charming. This is the Golden Boy folks in town see. Not the raving lunatic who doesn’t understand what autonomy is. 

“You have a nice day, too.” Still wearing that mask, he motions for the extras to follow him to the Jeep. No fighting today? Such a shame. They do as their handler says and get in. Sinclair glances toward the garage with a strange look. Stress with a huge amount of relief. It didn’t come down to him having to choose in the end. 

“That’s right.” Carver stops short of climbing into the driver’s side. “We still have a lot to talk about. Let’s meet up later to discuss things… Edward.” That snobby look is deserving of a left hook on its own. 

“Don’t know, man. Might have to take a raincheck on that. Got plans with my sweetheart.” Eddie’s lips twist into a nasty sneer that feels unnatural on him. “Gonna be real busy tonight… Tomorrow. Oh, and this weekend too. I’ll get back to you on that.” He snickers and crosses his arms, enjoying the reaction it gets. For a split second, something awful flickers across the guy’s expression. It’s quickly wiped off before everyone catches a glimpse of it. 

Getting into the Douchemobile, the door is slammed shut and Carver takes off like a bat out of hell. The same way he pulled up. Good riddance.

‘Bonehead doesn’t know I call my guitar my sweetheart. Dammit. That wasn’t a great idea. He could take it out on Chrissy thinking we’re doing shit. I’m gonna have to do something about this. Looks like I’ll have to beat his face in and get it over with.'  

“You boys try to keep it down, okay?” Mrs. R heads back into the house, leaving the band dumbfounded. 

“What the hell was that?” Jeff throws his hands down in frustration. “I can’t believe Sinclair came with those jerks. So much for being part of Hellfire. Friends don’t do that to each other.” 

“That wasn't cool at all.” The big guy sighs and flops down onto his stool. 

“My bad, dudes.” The jocks showed up for him. They were close to getting into a brawl. Wouldn’t be the first time but still. Only Jeff is much of a fighter out of the three. It’s the fact that the guys will jump in regardless of the odds that really matters. 

This will get ugly. No doubt about it. Carver won’t be satisfied until then. The petty bastard isn’t leaving many options other than kicking his ass to the point he backs off for good. Away from Chrissy, himself, his band, and the club. Man–to–man? Fine. As long as no one else gets involved. That leaves a lot less for him to worry about. No friends getting hurt or equipment destroyed. 

The guy is athletic but that isn't everything. Doesn’t mean he’ll win a fight. Eddie’s been hanging around bars and going to shows for years. Crazy shit goes down all the time. Golden Boy wouldn’t last two minutes in a pit. He’d get trampled or laid out. Probably has a glass jaw. Hopefully. Well, they’ll find out. 

‘Captain Toolbox is biting off more than he can chew.’

Chapter Text

“Bye!” Chrissy shouts for the third time, waving at the group of girls in the car. The Riviera parked by the curb finally takes off and speeds down Roseline Drive. It’s completely out of sight within seconds. 

‘That was fun. Charlotte and Natalie are in the loop and I gave them the okay. That’s as good as announcing it over the loudspeaker at school.’

Smiling to herself, she heads inside the large house. Her bookbag and shoes are left by the door. This place... Such a difference compared to where she spent the last couple of hours. It’s silent and devoid of warmth as if nobody lives here. Little more than a furnished residence waiting for someone to come along to turn it into a home. 

The curtains are drawn, leaving it dim throughout the foyer and hallway. Streaks of light from outside peek through the spaces around the window. The golden evening rays are narrow and bright, making the particles of dust in the air visible. She stands there and takes it in.

So empty. 

‘It won’t be like this when I have my own place.’

The thought brings her some comfort as she trudges upstairs to her bedroom. Things will change. They always do. She'll eventually move out. It doesn't matter if it's an apartment, rental or trailer. That will be everything this one isn’t. All the lavish furniture and decor in the world can’t make up for what’s missing here.

She drags her feet across the fluffy carpet toward the bed and abruptly stops next to it. When did that start? The plan already shifted. That isn't exactly right. No, the old plan is deep in the trash while a new one is being stitched together. 

This time, it won’t be other people making those decisions. Not anymore. Crawling onto the mattress, she flops down in the middle and gets comfortable. Blue eyes stare up at the ceiling, contemplating the current situation. There used to be a sense of ease in knowing what was supposed to happen. That the details were worked out and she only had to follow along for things to be okay. Now everything is up in the air in complete disarray… and it’s exciting. 

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want. There’s always a way out. Other options. Even if it means having it rough for a while.”

He doesn't get how much those words mean to her. Ideas like that were usually dismissed as impossible before, even if she secretly prayed that wasn't true. Maybe hearing it from someone trustworthy made it seem realistic. She bought the ‘86 necklace a while ago for a reason. Part of her hoped that would be the big year. 

“I also know you’re not happy… You can try to be.” 

Chrissy grabs a pillow and wraps her arms around it. Eddie’s right. She isn’t happy. Being content once in a while isn’t the same as real happiness. There’s no point in pretending or lying to herself. That can change too.

‘Being with him makes me happy.’

A hand presses against her chest. That isn't enough to contain it. She’s not sure what ‘it’ actually is. All these budding emotions are bouncing off each other, racing to the front of the line. Thinking back on the small things makes it painfully obvious he feels a similar way. A good chunk of the songs on the B–side of that mixtape are about admiring a woman or breaking out of some kind of confinement. He’s always going out of his way to do stuff for her, teasing, or flirting. Writing it off as being a really nice friend can only go so far before treading into major denial territory. 

What is she supposed to do with this? Perhaps asking Charlotte is the best option. Natalie too to balance out the whole heart versus head situation. They can have a cheerleader council meeting before the big sleepover. That gives her two days to see how things go at school and with Eddie and Jason. A lot could change by then.

“Mmm…” Snuggling into the pillow, Chrissy closes her eyes and relaxes on the duvet. It’s pretty early but she’s tired from the day. A short nap is fine. Thoughts of spice and smoke help ease her into drifting off.

‘What is this?’

A piano comes into focus. No one is sitting behind it at the moment. That’s right. There's usually a person on the bench, playing or waiting for the signal to continue. 

Something dark catches her attention. Turning, she jerks back, shocked by the figure a couple of feet away. A slip of a girl in a black leotard with white tights and pink slippers. Her strawberry blonde hair is pulled back into a tight bun. 

Chrissy's jaw drops at the realization of what she's looking at. The wall mirror in the dance studio runs from the floor to the ceiling. That’s what this is. Getting closer, she cups her face and watches the girl in the reflection do the same. So young. At least eight or nine.

‘This is when I switched to ballet since mom wouldn’t let me do jazz.’

Jazz dance wasn’t ‘classy’ enough. Same with tap, folk, and other styles she tried. After a few classes, they’d have to go back to the drawing board because her mom would find issues with them. Ballet is the only one that passes. It’s ladylike enough to be deemed acceptable. 

“How are we doing here, Chrissy?” Hearing that gentle voice triggers an immediate response. Spinning around, a woman with auburn hair is standing behind her. Also in a black leotard and white tights but with a black chiffon wrap that covers her upper thighs. 

‘Miss Madeleine.’

Any normal response gets caught in her throat as it tightens. It’s been so long. Too long. The summer before starting sixth grade was the last time she’s been here. 

“What’s wrong? Are you having a little trouble?” The teacher crouches down and takes her hands, smiling sweetly. “That’s okay. Do you want me to show you?”

It’s hard to stop the emotions from pouring out but she somehow manages to bottle them up. The nostalgia of being in this room and talking to her is overwhelming. Everything is just as she remembers it. Cream–colored walls and large windows. A piano in the corner where Miss Deidre would sit and play during class. The sprung hardwood floor. A permanent barre attached to the enormous mirror and the portable one off to the side. 

‘I missed this place.’

"Ah-huh." This must be another dream. She’s not a little girl anymore and hasn’t been here in years. The reflection says otherwise. Might as well allow herself to get immersed in this one. At least it's dear to her heart. 

“Watch me carefully. We’re going straight into our grand allégro.” Miss Madeleine says softly as she stands up. “Do you remember what that means?”

“Big jump!”   

“That’s right! You’re such a smart cookie.” She takes a couple of steps to the side, getting ready. “Let’s get into a good first position.” Her feet are pointed outward while her heels and legs are pressed together. “Make sure your shoulders are down and chest open. Perfect. Now chassé, step, and leap in that order. So, right foot out like this then a little gallop. The foot in the back is coming upfront.”

This is like riding a bike after not doing it for years. Awkward at first but the body begins to remember. She studies the woman, following along with the movements. It’s nowhere near as graceful. Even back then, she could only hope to reach that level one day.

“With the back foot, we’re going to jump and land this way. Imagine there’s a puddle on the floor and you have to get over it.” They do it a couple of times and it starts to feel natural. Her body does remember this. “That’s it! You got it. What a quick learner.” The praise causes Chrissy to flush. Getting complimented by someone she idolized gives her an extra push to work harder.

‘I forgot how much I enjoyed this.’

“Looks like you have it, sweetie. Great job! You’re doing so well.” The woman claps, standing back to observe, making sure her footwork and posture are correct. “I have to check on the others so keep practicing until I come back around.”

She peeks at the mirror to see her teacher heading to another kid. Oh yeah. There are other students here. Around twelve girls besides herself. That’s fine. When it’s her turn, she’ll be a master at this specific move. 

‘I don’t remember class being like this. All of us were together. Why is everyone else on that side of the room?’

Forget it. Chrissy shakes it off and goes back to first position. Her gaze shifts to Miss Madeleine in the mirror again. How pretty. So kind and elegant. She made the studio feel welcoming. Always complimenting and supporting the students, trying to build them up. It could boost anyone’s confidence. 

It made her mom mad that she didn’t want to go home afterward. What kid would be excited to leave with someone who constantly berated them for every single thing? A person who'd tear down the small amount of self–esteem these classes brought her.

'She's gone, Chrissy.'

This is easy now. Taking a deep breath, she steps and leaps over the imaginary puddle. Something tiny and black is moving on the floor where her foot is about to go. "Crap!" Attempting to avoid it messes up the jump and she lands wrong, losing her balance.

“Jesus! Oww!” This happened before. She twisted her ankle. It was a hasty move that would cost her a few lessons. Soon, it’ll begin swelling and needs some ice. “M–Miss Madeleine?” Her voice is shaky from the pain. 

‘What the heck was that?’ 

Straightening her legs across the floor, she hisses from the tenderness. This sucks. Can’t have ten minutes of fun, huh? No one has come to help her yet. Not the teacher or Miss Deidre. "Hey—" The mirror... It's hazy. There's only fog and obscure shapes in the background. 

“Miss Madeleine?” It's much louder. They haven’t noticed yet? The class isn't that full. When she tries to get up, the thing from moments ago comes into view. A black spider. Its long legs drag itself over the ground, rushing towards her. 

“Ah! No, no, no!” The pain causes her to fall back down. “Miss Madeleine!” There’s no time to wait for them. That thing will get here first. It’s too big to crush with her slipper and the sight of it alone triggers a visceral reaction. “Ugh...” She uses her good foot to slide to the barre, grabbing hold of it to pull herself up. It’s then that she finally sees them. An enormous colony. Hundreds of black spiders with thick bodies and spindly legs scurrying across the floor, along the walls, and hanging down from the ceiling. 

A hand slaps against her mouth to hold in a scream. She might be sick. The other people in the room are standing ramrod straight with their eyes wide open. “What are you guys doing?!” They don’t seem aware of anything, not even the spiders running between their feet. No reaction. No expression. Nothing. Just lifeless beings staring in the same direction. At her. 

Hobbling backward as they draw nearer, she glances around for a way out. There is none. They’re pushing her into a corner and there are too many of them. “Help! Help me! Please!” Tears start flowing and the wall meets her back, leaving nowhere else to go. 

“Ah!” she screams and kicks the closest ones. More are right behind them. Two jump from the floor onto her tights, crawling up her legs. Small hands swipe furiously to get them off. It’s useless. Trembling, she covers her face and sobs, unable to stop the spiders from latching on. They’re coming from every direction. There’s nothing to do but stand there while their hairy legs and bodies move all over her skin.

…….

“Get off!” Chrissy shoots up, smacking every inch of clothing within reach. It takes a bit for it to sink in as she gasps for air, sweating profusely. That was only a nightmare. Another bad dream to torment her. 

‘I can’t take this anymore.’

She holds her head and curls into herself. How much longer is this going to keep happening? The entire experience is draining. They're so real in the moment. It’s obvious at first that it's a dream but as it progresses, the lines become blurred enough that she gets completely sucked in and that thought disappears. Knowing that now doesn’t stop her heart from racing or the adrenaline still running its course after waking up. 

Her eyes narrow on a red dot on the leg of her jumpsuit. When did that happen? Another one appears and she recoils. More fall down the front of the outfit. She covers her nose and scrambles across the bed to grab a handful of tissues off the nightstand. 

“No! Come on!” The jumpsuit is light turquoise. If she doesn’t act fast, the blood will stain the fabric. Is this punishment for taking a nap too early? Or doing it while wearing a nice outfit despite knowing how often she gets nosebleeds? She tilts her head back and packs her left nostril. The usual culprit. Everything else will have to wait until after this is taken care of in the laundry room. Carefully, she slides off the bed and rushes out of the bedroom.

‘That was awful.’

Chrissy flops onto the edge of the bed in only her bra and panties. This is ridiculous. Tomorrow, she’s calling the doctor’s office to make an appointment. Having to run downstairs to the laundry room to rinse blood out of her clothing and pillowcases so often is not normal. 

Perhaps a medical professional can come up with a solution. Some medicine or at least an explanation. Either way, it’s getting old. The laundry tub has been used more times in the last two weeks than in the previous six months. 

It’s done. The bloody nose anyway. She’s still shaken up from the nightmare. The studio, Miss Madeleine, and those classes had always been fond memories that were held close to the heart. To have them turned into something disturbing got to her. Why did it have to be that? Nothing is off-limits when it comes to these crazy dreams. 

Laying down on her side, a little sniffle slips out that should’ve been long gone. She already told herself no more crying. There’s only so much a person can do. The pieces need to be put back together as if nothing happened. Move on. Her eyes land on the book beside the tissue box on the nightstand. Then they trail over to the phone next to them.

‘What should I do? Read or call someone? I don't like bothering people. I’m sad… and lonely. Frodo isn't enough.’ 

"C'mon, Chrissy. Just admit it. You missed me and wanted to talk. It's okay. I don't blame you."

She bites her lip and stares at it. He probably wouldn’t mind. It’s not that late. Quarter after seven according to the clock. Sucking in a breath through her teeth, she yanks open the drawer and rummages around for the slip of paper with his number on it. He says not to care what anyone thinks and do what she wants. That’s his whole motto. Well, all she wants right now is to talk to him. No one else. Only him. 

Grabbing the phone, Chrissy dials the number and her heart starts racing again. The fingers holding the scrap of paper tighten when it rings. Please let him answer. If not, hobbits will have to do for the time being. When no one picks up after six rings, her mouth shifts to the side in disappointment. Maybe he’s not home.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

A wide smile breaks through from hearing his voice on the other end. “Eddie, you punk.” 

“The one and only. What’s up, princess? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you.” 

“Really?” Of course. He finally asked for her number last night when they were hanging out, saying this whole ‘one-sided thing is super lame’ and then he can’t get through. “Sorry about that. How long ago? I took a nap after I got back.” 

“A couple of times in the last hour. It’s no biggie. Anyway, you didn’t happen to get any, uh... visitors, have you?”

“Visitors?” Chrissy racks her brain to put it together. Was she supposed to? There’s a fog hanging over her head. “Not that I know of. Why?” 

“Just wondering. Is everything good? You sound kinda weird.” 

There’s a tissue shoved up her nose, she cried downstairs, and everything is a mess. “Yeah, of course.” 

“You sure?” Eddie isn’t buying it. They both know she sucks at lying to him. 

“I… I'm not having a good night. A pretty bad one, actually.” 

“You want me to come over?” It tumbles out of his mouth so quickly that she’s taken aback. “I was about to pop in a movie. We could watch it together instead. Or not. Whatever you’re cool with.”

“That sounds good to me.” This guy is too much. He’s willing to drop everything and come over because she’s having a bad night. It'll be the last time they get to do this for a while unless it’s at his place. “I’d like that a lot.” 

“Sweet. I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay, bye.” 

Hanging up the phone, she sits up on the bed and clasps her hands together. Eddie is coming over for the second day in a row. What happened earlier doesn’t matter anymore. Not the nightmare, bloody nose, drama at school, or Jason. 

Chrissy gets to her feet and twirls around, basking in the joy she’s experiencing. It should only take him ten or fifteen minutes with the way he drives. There’s no time to dawdle. He’ll be here soon and she doesn’t have any clothes on. She springs over to the dresser to find an outfit. One that’s cute and comfy since they’re going to be sitting on the couch. 

‘What if we cuddle again?’

Her face is burning up at the thought. Pulling out a light pair of sweatpants and a red tank top, it’s hard to stop from cringing at herself while slipping them on. Such a goober. This isn’t her first rodeo. She’s kissed and made out before. Getting this excited over basically nothing is silly. That doesn’t change how it feels. 

Heading to the bathroom, there are a few things that need to get done before he arrives. First, dealing with this tissue jammed up her nose. Next is putting on a touch of makeup and fixing this hairdo to look somewhat presentable. 

‘Wait a minute. He was about to pop a movie in? I don’t remember seeing a VCR when I was there.'

“Someone's in a better mood, huh?” Eddie throws her a side glance as he puts a shopping bag on the coffee table. 

It took much longer than fifteen minutes for him to come over. That worked out since it gave her plenty of time to spruce up. 

“Mhm. It's because you’re here.” Her answer causes him to pause for a second while digging into the bag. The corner of his mouth quirks up before resuming.

‘He liked that.’

“What are we watching?” It doesn't matter but she's curious. A ringed hand pulls out a case and holds it out for her to see. The cover is entirely black with the title in white lettering. This is Spinal Tap. She's never heard of it. “Is it horror?” 

“Nope.” He tosses the movie in the air and catches it. “It’s a funny fake documentary about this English metal band on tour and it’s a mess. Not sure if it’s up your alley but thought we could give it a try.”

Thank goodness it’s not scary. They would watch it if it was anyway. Eddie doesn’t ask for much so she’s okay with indulging him as long as it’s nothing too out there. “Did you bring snacks?” She eyes the bag that evidently wasn’t for the movie alone. There’s more in there. 

“Yep. You have milk?”

“Plenty of it.” She tilts her head, watching as he sets the tape down and delves back in. One by one the contents are laid out on the coffee table. A bag of microwavable popcorn, gummy worms, Nerds, Runts, a can of Planters Cheez Balls, a couple of Hostess Pudding Pies, and a package of Oreo cookies. Jeez. This guy and his snacks. 

“These are better with some.” He motions towards the Oreos, then rolls the plastic bag into a small ball. “I know you’re not big on junk food. Figured the popcorn would be alright.”

How thoughtful. It’s not the kind that is smothered in butter. She follows his movements as he shrugs off the vest and leather jacket combo, draping them over the back of the couch. Like at The Hideout, he’s wearing a sleeveless band shirt. 

Chrissy’s gaze begins to wander. Across Eddie’s bare shoulders and down his arms, skimming over the ink etched into his skin. The beast and bats. They’ve grown on her. Those don't seem nearly as creepy as before. Continuing, she takes in his forearms and hands, finding herself fixated on the latter. 

‘They’re hot. I wish I could see his other tattoos.’

This isn’t so unintentional anymore. There’s nothing discreet about it. Being sneaky with it didn’t cross her mind. It's hard to think straight with these weird thoughts passing by.

“My, my... You’re making me feel bashful, Chrissy.” He says playfully, crossing his arms. “Now I’m not so sure who’s going to be devoured tonight between me or the snacks.” 

“Oh my god!” Hands fly up to cover her reddened face as what she was doing sinks in. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to be like that.”

“Hey, not complaining over here. I’m flattered. Might even be willing to share some of these Oreos since that shit works on me.” His laugh sounds a little off. She peeks at him through her fingers. He wasn’t lying. It does. Perhaps a little too well. The color in his cheeks and those raised shoulders give it away. 

“Flattery works on you and gets me stuff?” 

“Absolutely.” Eddie grins crookedly. He said something similar when they were at the picnic table. That time, she didn’t compliment him but it got her a twenty-five percent discount on the weed. 

“Okay. Sleeveless shirts look fab on you. You have nice arms. I like your hands. Huge fan. You're handsome. Those tattoos are cool. I haven’t seen them all. You also have really soft hair. I want to touch it again—"

“Woah, woah, woah!” Rushing over, he holds his hands up, motioning for her to slow down. “You tryin’ to rob me blind? I didn’t bring that much.” That flustered him. Maybe it was too much too fast or he didn’t expect her to say any of that. When she smiles and nods, he reaches up to squish her cheeks together. “Forget the junk food. I’m starting to think you wanna do me in, sweetheart.” 

“Dow yow win?” She barely manages to get out as Eddie turns her head back and forth. Prying the fingers off her cheeks, she holds onto them and giggles. “I wasn’t done. I didn’t get to the part about your guitar-playing skills and the neat things you know how to do.”

“You are trying to do me in. That’s flattery overload.” He looks down at his fingers in her grasp and then focuses on her face for a long moment. “Just so we’re clear, I have a pretty lengthy list too. Right in my back pocket. I’ve kept it tucked away there for a while now.” 

Chrissy stares at him. Despite turning a blind eye to many things, doing it this time isn’t as easy. She's not stupid. There’s only one real question. How long is a while? That could be a week or a month ago.

Clearing his throat, he pulls away and goes back to the snacks on the coffee table, picking up the bag of popcorn. “So, uh… Yeah, the movie.”

That brings her out of it. Later. Sift through that later. She didn’t respond and that discouraged him. He probably hoped for more than a blank expression after admitting that. “Right. Popcorn. Milk. Movie.” 

They head into the kitchen. That didn’t go as expected. Getting the cups and carton of milk from the fridge, she glances at him from the corner of her eye. He’s pressed up against the counter watching the bag of popcorn go around and round in the microwave. The silence is bothersome. 

“What was that about me getting a visitor earlier?” As soon as it’s mentioned, his shoulders visibly tense. A few ideas popped up while getting ready. 

Eddie shifts to lean on one arm and studies her from under his messy bangs. It goes quiet like he’s debating on what to say if anything at all. “Well, I got one so I was wondering if you did too.” Seeing her puzzled look, he sighs and continues. “Carver and the Douche Brigade came by Gareth’s during practice. Wanted to have a ‘chat’ if you catch my drift.”

She covers her mouth. That was always a possibility. One that hopefully wouldn’t come true yet did. Of course. It’s easier to go after them than her. Target those people won’t care about. There’d be no social repercussions at school.

‘What are you thinking, Jason?!’

“Did you fight? Was anyone hurt?” Guilt seeps through Chrissy at the news. The guys in his band seem like decent people. They’ve been getting along since the initial shock wore off at the Hellfire meeting. Even Grant warmed up a bit at the bar. What about the other club members? No one should have trouble because of her relationship issues. “I’m sorry.”

“Nah. We talked some trash then they left. Nothing serious. And don’t say sorry. There’s nothing to apologize for. Dude’s grown. His choices are on him. Not you.” He tuts, pulling the popcorn bag out of the microwave. A large bowl from the cabinet is quietly held out to him. His eyes shift between it and her before a deeper sigh fills the room. “Chrissy, it’s not your fault. ‘Kay? Don’t blame yourself. It was gonna boil over regardless. This started long before you two were a thing.” 

It’s nice of him to say that. Breaking up with Jason is the catalyst of this recent dilemma. The two groups had their problems over the years but they never came to blows before. “I get what you’re saying. It’s hard not to feel responsible. I dragged you into this. I knew how this might end up and I kept seeing you anyway. He was my boyfriend. In a messed up way, it’s like this gave him an excuse.”

Eddie snatches the bowl out of her hands and puts it on the counter with the bag before leaning against it. Slowly, his lips curl up into a smirk. “You’re not nearly big enough to drag me into anything, short stuff.” He chuckles, moving off to the side when a hand swats at him. “We made our own decisions. If you’re guilty, then I’m damned. I expected this from the get-go. Didn’t care. Still don’t.”

That's true. No one forced them to do any of this. She wanted to hang out with Eddie and he always came. Jason decided to go to Gareth’s house earlier. They're eighteen or older. Adults. Yes, this could’ve been handled better. Mistakes were made. The blame does partially lie with her. None of them were in this relationship or betrayed their partner as she did.

“I don’t want anyone to get hurt. Your friends have nothing to do with it. This is new territory. It’s hard to know what could happen. Fighting really bothers me.” She says softly, twisting the bottom of her tank top between her fingers. It’s not only physical. Yelling puts her on edge too. Every bit of it is awful.

“To be honest, I’m not crazy about fighting either.” That’s surprising since he’s always antagonizing people. “It’s been around me from the very start. Gets old real quick. I just wanna have a good time. That’s all.” Pushing off the counter, he steps closer and puts his hands on her shoulders. “But if I have to, I will do it. Not sure Golden Boy wants to though. Gotta hunch he’s having a hissy fit because his goons are running their mouths.” 

“I bet it's Andy. He's always instigating and bringing out the worst in him. They both do that to each other.” 

“That piece of crap... Whatever. Look, you don’t have to worry about us. Seriously. It's not like we're a bunch of defenseless kids. We’ve had our fair share of rumbles in the past.” 

“I can't help it but I'll try.” It’s not that simple. He probably wants to put her at ease. This will suck but she needs to have a talk with Jason. A real one to settle this. 

“Good. The point in me coming over was to make it a better night, not a worse one.” The hands on her shoulders lightly rub them before pulling away. He goes back to dealing with the bag on the counter and hastily dumps the popcorn into the bowl she gave him. “We still got a movie to watch.”

“Mm.” There’s nothing she can do at the moment. He’s here now so they should enjoy their time together. It’s doubtful she’s worth the trouble but apparently, this guy thinks otherwise. 

‘I don’t get him sometimes. I wonder what’s on that lengthy list he mentioned. What does he see?’

They head back into the den. Eddie eagerly puts the tape into the VCR and plops down on the couch with his snacks. Before it begins, he drops a handful of Oreos into his cup of milk. The package is held out to her as ‘payment for the flattery’. 

“I only want a couple.” She grabs some as ‘This is Spinal Tap’ starts. After an older man's monologue, it shows the band flying into the US and prepping for a show. When he said this was about a metal group going on tour, that instantly caught her attention. 

This is another glimpse into a world very different from her own. It’s new and intriguing. The Hideout, Hellfire Club, his music, this. These are opportunities to learn more about him and she’s going to take them.

“That’s a sick ass riff.” He says through a mouthful of cookies. This guy already scarfed down half of the entire pack, the pudding pies, a box of Nerds, and stole a few large handfuls of popcorn. They’re only thirty minutes in. Once having his fill, he falls back on the couch and sighs in contentment. 

‘His stomach is a bottomless pit.’

Chrissy eyes him from the side, nibbling on her lip. The urge to do what they did last time is tempting. There’s no flannel shirt in the way either. Should she ask or inch closer to give a hint? People say to let men make the first move. All that's done is stop her from taking chances.

“Heh.” Eddie suddenly whips his head in her direction. “Is this what you want?” He arches a brow and lifts the arm closest to her. Was it that obvious? Flushing, she nods, inwardly berating herself for the lack of subtlety throughout the night. “Then come here.”

No, turns out that being a little less subtle works out perfectly fine. Scooting across the cushions and right up next to him, she lays her head on his chest. Like before, it’s warm and his heart is beating fast. Hers is, too. It has been for a while. 

“Man, you’re cold.” He pretends to shiver dramatically. A small ‘sorry’ is mumbled in response. That can’t be helped. There’s a reason the duvet upstairs is so thick and puffy. “You can, uh… sit closer if you want. You know, to get warm or something.” 

‘Sit closer? I don’t think that’s possible.’

There’s no room between them as it is. Glancing at him does nothing to answer that. He’s just staring at the TV, chewing on the side of his mouth as the band starts up another number. Then it clicks. Oh. That must be why he's tense. 

She regards him for a moment, watching as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down. The offer isn’t immediately shut down. They like each other. He hasn’t purposefully crossed any lines. Why not?

“Okay.” That draws his attention right back to her, eyes widening a bit before lighting up. He pushes himself up on the couch and reaches over to pull the lever for the footrest. Getting everything nice and comfy.

Blushing furiously, she gently slides onto his lap, trying to be careful not to hit anything on accident that could ruin the mood. The whirlwind of butterflies and tight sensation in her chest returns with a vengeance. This time, they’re fully embraced as she settles down on him, laying back against his chest. 

“How’s that? Cozy?” Chrissy nods again and draws her legs up, letting them rest on top of his much longer ones. “Good. Now you can watch the rest of the movie without being too distracted by this handsome mug.” He shifts beneath her so his belt buckle isn’t digging into her lower back. “Is that better?”

“Yeah.” Not that it’s easier to focus on the TV this way. That’s difficult when all of this is throwing her senses into a frenzy. 

‘He smells good.’

When Eddie drops his chin onto her shoulder, she swallows hard. So close. Enough that it’s hard to pay attention to anything other than the hot breath tickling her skin through her hair. 

“What’s wrong?” He says teasingly. This guy knows exactly what games he’s playing. His arms slowly snake around her midsection while those dark eyes watch her intently, searching for any sign of objection. There is none.

Chrissy revels in the warmth surrounding her. It’s everywhere along with his scent. Almost to a dizzying degree. Last time, there were more layers in the way. Now she can feel his bare arms wrapped around her own, nothing getting in between them. 

This is heavenly. It's like curling up with a heated blanket after coming in on a snowy winter night. She’s melting into him. If only there was a way to stay like this. Life would be blissful. Wanting a little more, her hand slips beneath one of his. He exhales sharply and happily weaves their fingers together tightly.

‘I made the right choice.’

More people showed up at Chance’s than expected. There’s no getting around it. This isn’t a hangout anymore. It’s a full-blown party. College students showed up. 

Jason takes another swig of his beer, ignoring the looks certain people are giving him. He doesn’t need to check to see if they're still shooting daggers his way. Perhaps that’s meant for someone else like the girl sitting on the arm of this chair.

‘How long is she going to rattle on for?’

The blonde beside him has been talking nonstop for the last half hour while swirling around the alcohol in her red cup. Whatever it is. That isn't beer. Wine? The other cheerleaders keep making faces at them, especially Charlotte the Harlot. She’s across the room with John, gripping her own drink while scrutinizing the pair. 

He doesn’t care at the moment. They’re not doing anything. It doesn’t look great though. There’s no doubt Chris will hear about this then any chance of fixing things will go up in smoke. 

“She’s not some goddamn prize that goes to whoever wins a stupid fight. Drill that into your thick skull.”

When the freak is giving him a lecture, that’s one way to know something has gone wrong. The guy is the lowest of the low but made a good point for once in his miserable existence. That’s all the credit Munster gets. He let himself get carried away. Of course winning the fight wouldn't change her mind. Part of him hoped it would get that weirdo to back off so she could return to normal. Those claws need to be pried off of her. 

“—What do you think?”

“Yeah, sure. Sounds great.” Jason has no clue what she's saying. That’s the problem with most of them. They carry on incessantly and can have entire conversations with themselves. He doesn't have to give any input. 

‘Dad was right about women who will talk a man’s ear off.’

Amber swoops in and presses her lips to his. He turns into a statue out of shock. What's going on? There are a few startled gasps from around the room. The wet, slippery texture of lip gloss rubs off onto his mouth and reminds him why he detests it. Despite knowing this is wrong, he doesn’t stop her. He's not kissing back but isn't ending it either. This is one of Chris's friends. She picked her to take over as cheer captain next season. What a jezebel. 

‘Her replacement.’

“You backstabbing little witch.” 

She quickly pulls away and he sees Charlotte standing there with her puppy dog of a boyfriend trailing not far behind. “Who cares? They’re not together anymore. She’s messing around with that creepy weirdo.”

That gets a glare from both Jason and the brunette. Chris wouldn’t do that. They’ve been together for a while and he hasn’t gotten very far. There’s no way that slob did. But if he can manipulate her to act out like she’s been, it could be a possibility. That’s what his kind do. They take and take until there’s nothing left then run away to search for the next victim. He's a snake slithering around on his belly, waiting for some innocent soul to cross paths with him before striking.  

“That’s not it! You’re breaking the code. Friends don’t get with each other’s boyfriends or exes. What's wrong with you?! You have no idea what's going on. Get a clue, loser.” 

“Butt out. Why is it okay for her to hook up with other people but not him?”

Pushing Amber away, Jason gets to his feet and storms off. Listening to women bickering is almost as annoying as lip gloss. He’s too drunk to give a crap about what they’re saying. None of them get it. No one’s hooking up with anyone. They’re going through a rough patch. There’s still a chance to work things out. 

‘All of this because you’re having some weird phase.’

That’s it. They have to talk this out. He hasn’t been the greatest boyfriend ever. There have been plenty of occasions where his time should’ve gone to her instead of hanging out with the team outside of practice. She could be doing this for attention. It makes sense. 

‘I need to talk to her. We have to sort this out. It was a mistake to let that happen. The Harlot is going to tell as soon as she gets a chance. I can fix this.’

Jason maneuvers through people to get to the front door while pulling out his keys. Chrissy’s house isn’t far from here. It shouldn’t be too hard to make it. If he’s careful and drives slowly through the neighborhood, then everything will be okay. 

“Jason! Wait!” a voice calls out after finally making it to the Jeep. This girl is persistent. Now he’s going to be in trouble because of her. She slips her heels off and runs down the front path to the driveway barefoot. A groan of annoyance builds up in his throat. It stays there. “I want to talk for a minute.”

"Make it quick.”

“A lot of my favorite bands are from the UK. Iron Maiden, Black Sabbath, Judas Priest, Motörhead… There’s this pub in London I wanna go to if we make it big. It’s called The Cart and Horses. The birthplace of Maiden. Someday, I’m gonna march right in there, sit my happy ass down on a stool, and have a drink.”  

“That’s a cool goal to have.” Chrissy runs her fingers through the messy dark waves hanging over the side of her thigh. The movie ended a while ago. At some point, they ended up changing positions. He weaseled his way into her lap, trying to get the same treatment as at Lover’s Lake and she willingly obliged. “Does it have to be after you make it big?”

“Yep. I won’t take a step inside that place until then, even if by some crazy chance I end up across the pond. Made that deal with myself years ago and I plan to keep it.” He stretches his legs out over the cushions with a groan, getting comfortable. A hand stays resting on her knee and she stares at it, studying the large rings on his fingers. It’s not the first time doing this but they definitely draw attention. A cross with skulls, a pig’s head, and a mean–looking skull with fangs. 

‘He sure has interesting tastes.’ 

“Is there anywhere you’d wanna see?” 

She goes quiet for a moment. Eddie had a place in mind that has special meaning for him. It sounds more like a pilgrimage than a simple vacation. There isn’t anywhere in the world that holds that kind of value to her. Yet. "I always hoped to go to France one day. Bouncing around to see different parts of Europe would be amazing too.” Dark eyes glance up at her curiously. “I was a fan of Brigitte Bardot. There’s a small collection of her movies and records in my closet. I had to hide it so my parents wouldn’t throw them out. They were worried she'd be a bad influence on me.” 

“You mean ‘cause of the sex kitten thing? Yeah, I guess strait-laced nobles who run a tight ship wouldn’t be crazy about women like that.” He tsks, shaking his head. “Can’t have those wild ideas floating around.”

“Pretty much. After Charlotte got me to watch ‘And God Created Woman’, I wanted to see the French Riviera for myself. It was so beautiful. There are tons of sites to visit in Paris and Bordeaux alone. Cathedrals, museums, theaters, old palaces. Oh! There’s a place you might be interested in. The Catacombs of Paris.” 

“Wait. The whatta–what?” 

“Here, let me get up.” Eddie shifts down so she has room to slide out. Hopping to her feet, she rushes to the study. It’s forbidden to go in there without permission but oh well. 

‘There it is.’

Chrissy grabs a book off the shelf and runs back to the den to take her place on the couch next to him. It covers famous sites in France and delves into the country’s history. Flicking through the pages until reaching the section in mind, her face lights up as she holds it out to show him. 

“The Catacombs of Paris. It’s a labyrinth beneath the city made up of bones.” As she expected, that caught his attention. He flips over to sit upright, taking the book from her to get a look for himself. “There were health issues connected to the nearby cemeteries so officials had remains dug up and transferred underground.”

“Christ.” Inspecting the pictures of walls and pillars covered with human skulls, his brow furrows as he leans closer to the page. She wasn't sure what reaction that would get but he likes skull imagery. They’re on posters in his room, clothing, and rings. “Does it say how many there are?”

“I'm pretty sure it said five or six million people's remains at the beginning of the section. Yeah, and during the early nineteenth century, it was used for concerts and whatnot. I remember that part because it blew my mind.” 

Eddie glances up from the book and over towards her. From the look in his eyes, she can tell he’s thinking hard about something. “That’s metal as hell. This would be really sick as a backdrop. That’d be sweet to recreate. Having a wall covered in skulls behind us while we play. And with the lights? Maybe red ones. Or if it’s a music video, it could be in black and white. Well, I’d have to see… I’m getting way ahead of myself.” He snorts, running a hand through his hair. “You were spot on. It’s interesting.” 

“Right?” she answers brightly, thoroughly enjoying how excited it made him. It would be so cool to see his band make a music video. “A teensy tiny part of me wants to check out the catacombs if I ever get to visit Paris. I guess out of morbid curiosity.”

“This ghoulish place?” He grins widely and taps his finger against a close-up shot of a row of skulls along a passage. “I can see it now. You’d be clinging onto someone’s back the entire way with your teeth chattering up a storm.”

She sticks out her lip in a pout when he imitates the scene he just described and cackles, smacking a hand against his knee. “Go ahead, keep making fun of me. Guess who’s back I won’t be clinging to? Take a stab at it.”  

“Hey, hey, hey now! Wait just a minute. That’s not fair. I didn’t know anything was at stake.”

“Everything is always at stake.” 

“What a cutthroat. You know, you really have a—”

The doorbell rings and he stops mid-sentence. Neither says a word, listening intently until it rings again. Putting the book down on the coffee table, Eddie frowns at the watch on his wrist. “What the hell. It’s after ten.”    

The small clock on the mantle reads 10:20 at night. No one drops by this late and she has a good idea of who it is. The bell starts ringing repeatedly throughout the house. That practically confirms it. 

‘Crap! Crap! Crap!’

This is bad. Chrissy attempts to calm her breathing, not wanting to give away the panic brewing inside. She can’t think of anyone else that would show up like this. It’d be out of the ordinary for Jason too. He said they’d finish their conversation later but come on.

“You want me to get it?” Eddie’s voice lost all the playfulness it held a moment ago. He knows. That’s very clear from his expression. This isn’t bad. It’s terrible. If they see each other, there could be a fight. The neighbors won’t hesitate to call the cops. 

‘I can’t let that happen. They need to stay as far apart as humanly possible for now.’

“Nope! No, um… stay here. I’ll be right back.” That hopefully sounded nonchalant. She gets up and forces herself to not look back at him for reassurance on the way out of the den. Doing that will only push him into action.

The bell keeps ringing. It’s getting on her nerves. “I’m coming! Knock it off already!” Her yelling at anyone is as unusual as someone showing up out of the blue at night and whoever it is immediately stops. Good. At least they got the point. She peers through the peephole to make sure it actually is him and not some stranger lurking in the neighborhood. It's him. No doubt about it. “Give me a minute.” 

She doesn’t wait for a response before running upstairs to the bedroom. Doing this at home gives her a bit more confidence that he won’t act out too much. No one is coming inside. That’s too risky. Rushing to the dresser, she grabs the small box lying on top and shoves it into the pocket of her sweatpants. The bracelet he gave her needs to be returned. It wouldn't be right to keep that.

Chrissy heads back down and throws on her cheer jacket. She takes a second to center herself. At least Eddie is here for better or worse. A person to talk to and lean on once this is over. 

As soon as the front door is cracked open, frigid air blasts her in the face. Darn it. He had to come on a cold night. Slipping out onto the porch, she folds her arms and holds the thin jacket tightly against herself, trying to trap any lingering warmth that's left. 

“There you are.” Jason doesn’t seem bothered by the weather at all. He takes his hands out of the pockets of his varsity jacket. “It’s not polite to make someone wait at the door for so long.”

“What, did you come to patronize me? Randomly stopping by this late at night is also not polite. Quite rude actually. So is ringing my doorbell a million and a half times.” This is already going less than stellar. 

“No, I… I just wanted to talk, okay? This couldn’t wait anymore.” Another breeze comes by and it's apparent why he felt coming here was fine. 

‘He reeks of beer.’

“Are you drunk? Why are you driving around after drinking?” At lunch, she remembers one of the younger basketball players bringing up Chance’s place. That’s where he must’ve come from. What great friends. Did they realize he left like this? “That’s really stupid. You could hurt yourself or someone else.”

“Now you care? Is this what it takes to get anything out of you, Ice Queen?” He clicks his tongue. Ice Queen? That’s a new one. 

“Just because we’re not together anymore doesn’t mean I want something bad to happen to you.” 

“You sure? Doesn’t seem like it.” As if realizing getting riled up won’t help, Jason visibly simmers down. “Forget it. Look, I know I didn’t handle things well this morning or yesterday. I’ve been trying to figure out what’s going on and why. Don’t you think I deserve some kind of explanation?” 

Chrissy gawks at him while rubbing her arms to stay warm. They’re never on the same page. There was probably a better way to handle this but he didn’t make it easy either. “That’s not fair. I tried talking to you multiple times. All you did was push me off to the side for your friends. ‘Can’t this wait? I need to talk to Chance', or ‘Later. I’m supposed to meet up with Andy’. How do you expect me to explain anything when that’s what I’d get each time?” 

“Well, now you have the floor. Explain away. Tell me why you’re ready to ruin both of our lives. What makes you so eager to toss our plans in the dumpster.” 

Ruin both of their lives? She’s desperately trying to get hers back. Doing that happens to include ruining the plan. Those two things are opposing forces. “That’s the problem. You don’t listen to me. At every turn, it becomes more—”

“What the hell are you talking about? I’ve gone above and beyond to do everything I’m supposed to. Yeah, I put off a few conversations but that’s it. I’m working my ass off every single day. I have a lot on my plate. Everyone’s eyes are on me. Expecting miracles from me. Demanding more and more from me.”

“If there’s so much on your plate, then not having a girlfriend should lighten the load.” Chrissy can sympathize with him. They both have pressure on them, even if it takes on different forms. “That will take some stress off your shoulders. One less thing to worry about.” 

“No! I don’t see you that way. You were supposed to be my friend and girlfriend. I get it. I should’ve spent more time with you. Maybe hung out with the guys a little less or skipped Benny’s. Things have been hectic lately. My dad is always on my case. This is the last thing I need right now. I thought you’d understand. Scratch that. I know you do.”

A pang of guilt settles in her chest. “We have people expecting too much out of us. It’s unfair. I think that’s what drew us together in the first place. Being around someone in a similar situation and getting to talk to them about it feels nice. The truth is… I’m not happy. I don’t want to keep going through the motions to please everyo—” 

“Is that how you think of us? Just going through the motions? And what do you have to be unhappy about with me? I do what I can. Drive you around, give you love and affection, get you gifts, put up with your chatterbox friends and pain in the ass dad. I even got my parents to throw you a big birthday party. That wasn't cheap. I ask for very little in return. A lot less than what any of my friends get from their girlfriends.” 

'Ouch.'

How frustrating. He said she had the floor yet cut her off twice. Perhaps it’s the alcohol. Unless this isn’t about wanting answers. That list is full of stuff he insisted on doing. Not that they weren't appreciated but to have it all thrown in her face like this... She should’ve spoken up and turned them down. This proves the importance of having balance in a relationship. 

That ‘very little’ isn’t so little, either. They’ve had tiffs and talks before, including the overt hints. He’s made it clear what’s expected of his girlfriend. She’s already handed over so much of herself. Giving him the rest would’ve been a mistake. A huge one she'd regret. 

Relenting at the beginning of the school year was foolish. They should’ve stayed friends. There’s no way this could’ve worked. Two people slowly rotting on the inside can’t save each other. Both of them refused to acknowledge anything was wrong from the start. 

“You’re upset because you know I’m right. I went out of my way for you and what do I get? You let some trailer park rat get in your head and screw this up.” Jason pauses when she lets out a shaky breath, noticing she's tearing up. Crying always made him uncomfortable. “Chris, this isn’t entirely your fault. It's his. This is what he does. You’re stressed out. Confused. It’s okay. Sometimes, things like this happen. Remember Pastor Bennett’s sermon from a while ago about Eve being tempted by the apple? That’s what this is. Don’t listen to the serpent.” 

‘Is that how he sees Eddie? As Satan? That’s so stupid. If I wanted to hear preaching, I’d go back to church.’

“I told you not to talk about him like that. None of this is his fault. It’s mine so take it out on me. Leave Eddie and his friends out of our mess.” She says indignantly. “I do appreciate the nice things you’ve done for me. The issue is that you have this image of me that isn’t real. I can’t live up to the standards you hold me to. I can’t give you what you truly want. I-I’m going through a lot so you should find someone that can be what you need. That’s not me.” 

"Like what? Your eating problem?” The blood drains from her face. He picks up on it right away this time. "Then it's true. Amber wasn't lying." His lips form a firm line as he takes a few steps across the porch. Quietly taking it in. Nobody should know about that, least of all him. “That's why you would suddenly run off to the bathroom... I didn’t want to believe it. You’ve always been skinny. It can’t be good for your body. You have to knock that off.”

"Stop." Hot, angry tears roll down her cheeks. This is humiliating. She can only pray no one else heard him. “You have no idea what you’re talking about! I haven’t done that crap in a while. It’s none of your business, anyway.”

“That’s what I mean. When do you ever say things like ‘crap’? You don’t. It’s his influence. We can work through all this. Graduation is coming up and college. We should be focusing on that. Whatever happened to campaigning for prom queen? Are you just expecting them to hand you the crown without lifting a finger?” 

“I don’t care about any of that.” With what has been going on the last few months, those are meaningless by comparison. She didn’t ask to have her name thrown in the hat. It was the complete opposite. “I’m so sick and tired of you and everyone else telling me what to do or who I’m supposed to be. There is no ‘we’ anymore. Only ‘me’ figuring myself out.” 

He throws his hands up, laughing bitterly. “If it’s not what I think it is, then why now? The finish line was right there but I guess it couldn’t wait. What pushed you to do this?”

Chrissy digs her nails into the sleeve of her jacket. After keeping her emotions in check and hidden for the longest time, letting them out like this is taxing. How honest should it get? Seems as if they’re throwing everything out into the open. “Saturday night.” She says shakily, her insides twisting into knots. 

“Saturday night? Your birthday?” Jason’s brow furrows in confusion. “What about it?”

“In the Jeep… I didn’t want that.” She wrings her hands nervously, knowing there’s no putting the lid back on this. It’s already out there. Being enraged would make this easier but it’s swiftly replaced with trepidation. She might’ve gotten ahead of herself. “Not once did you notice. That’s what I meant about you not listening to me. When it really counts, what I want goes right out the window.”

“What?!” He rears back in disbelief, staring at her wide-eyed as if this is the most unbelievable and insulting thing anyone’s ever said to him. “Are you serious? How was I supposed to know that if you don’t say anything?”

“I wasn’t even moving. And I did! You said something like ‘we’re getting married anyway’, which I guess means it doesn’t matter and kept going. 'Stop thinking, Chris. You overthink everything.' If your window didn’t get cracked, I don’t think you would’ve stopped.” 

He paces along the length of the porch, rubbing his forehead with a hand. “I thought you were just being shy. I’m not a mind–reader! You can run your mouth now but couldn’t say anything then?” 

“I was afraid of upsetting you. I still am. You make me feel like I'm doing something wrong when you don't get what you want. It doesn't take much to set you off either. I don’t like people yelling and hitting stuff.” 

“Give me a damn break!” 

“Okay, okay. I’ve heard enough.” The front door opens and both of them freeze when Eddie steps out onto the welcome mat, looking none too pleased. Even in the darkness, she can see the scowl on his face. “Sorry, Chrissy. Don’t mean to step on your toes but I said I’d help you and I meant it.” 

“What the hell is he doing here?” Jason hisses, eyeing her incredulously. “You have a guy over this late? Where’s your dad? There’s no way he’d let that happen.”

“I, um…” Glancing between the two men, she’s not sure what to say. Part of her is relieved yet horrified by the interruption. How much of their discussion did he catch? He couldn't hear them from the den, right? Or was he standing in the foyer listening in? This is so mortifying. “It doesn’t matter. Please, just go. I’m done arguing.” 

“You heard her. Get.”  He makes a shooing motion with his hands and it only serves to infuriate Jason beyond belief. 

“Shut the hell up, freak. This is between me and her. Why don’t you get out of here? It has nothing to do with you."

Eddie scoffs, curling a hand into a fist at his side. “Yeah, it does. I’m a guest and there’s no one hosting right now because you had to show up to make an ass of yourself.”

Instead of continuing the back and forth with him, Jason shifts his attention to her. He’s tense and on edge, despite the drunkenness. The heated conversation they were having appears to have sobered him up a bit. “This is what you want? You want to screw around with this flunky? He’s old enough to buy alcohol and is still in high school with a bunch of teenagers.” 

“Damn, dude. I’m not that old.”

“You’re going to throw everything away to play rebel? Your dad mustn’t know what’s going on. He’d never be okay with a guy like that coming anywhere near this house.” 

‘I’m getting a headache.’

She strokes her temples, hoping to get some relief. This is too much. The pressure in her head is steadily building up the longer this goes on. All she wants is to go back inside with Eddie and spend more time together. Everything was fine until the doorbell rang. “I don’t care what my dad thinks.” 

“Liar,” Jason moves closer until she is within reach. “You’re only saying that because he’s not standing here. How long until he finds out? What do you think he’s going to do?” 

Taking a step back to put some distance between them, her hip bumps into the railing. There’s barely any room left. He's looming above, making her feel so minuscule beneath his angry gaze. Same as with the nightmare earlier, she's getting boxed into a cramped space. Not again. She shudders, trying to push those thoughts away. A hand reaches up to rub her chest and neck in a self–soothing gesture.

“Enough! You need to back up, Carver.” Eddie stomps towards them. He’s fuming. “I don’t like any of the shit you’ve been saying. Let’s get something straight. The only reason I haven’t smashed your face in already is because we’re at Chrissy’s.”

“To be honest, I’m not big on fighting either... It’s been around me from the very start.”

‘I shouldn’t have answered the door.’

“Why don’t we take a walk down the street? Man–to–man, right? And you don’t have to piss your pants over my big ol’ scary rings anymore.” He lifts both hands, showing off his naked fingers with a smirk. Those rings are always on. There’s no questioning it now. “Took them off just for you, blondie.” 

“Why take a walk when we can do it right here, loser?”

“No way!” This can’t be allowed to happen. She stands in front of Jason when he goes to take the bait. They’re near the step. All he needs to do is turn around and leave. Not a single good thing will come from this. “You’re drunk. Please go sit in your car. Who can come get you? I’ll call someone.” 

“I don’t need anyone’s help. Get out of the way! This prick has been asking for it for years.” Is he out of his mind? She shakes her head, refusing to let him by. “Are you deaf? I said move! You’re only protecting that trash!” 

“Chrissy, get away from him.” When Eddie steps closer to them, Jason's eyes narrow on him. He roughly pushes her off to the side and out of the line of fire. Giving the two men plenty of space. 

Whack!

“Ah!” She shouts as a tight fist hits Jason in the face. His head whips back and he stumbles towards the railing, grabbing onto it for stability. A hand presses against the spot where he was struck. Shock. There’s a look of genuine shock as if he never expected anyone would actually punch him. 

“That’s for shoving her. Now I got a few dozen more for all that crap you were spewing.” Taking off his leather jacket, it’s tossed onto one of the wicker chairs, leaving him in only a sleeveless shirt. As she feared, he’s completely serious about this. These two are going to duke it out on the front porch. 

“You got it all wrong, scumbag.” Regaining his composure, Jason straightens up and cracks his neck, ready for the next round. “You should’ve stayed out of this.” He throws a punch but Eddie dodges it and gets another hit in. 

‘I can’t watch. Oh my god. Someone is definitely going to call the cops.'

She covers her face and turns away. This is awful. They’re hurting each other. Was this really inevitable? Is there a way to stop it? Getting between those two is a terrible idea. They’re both much bigger and stronger. The thuds, panting, and sounds of fists hitting skin are making her stomach churn. 

‘Please don't let him get injured.’

Hesitantly looking up, Chrissy gasps seeing them struggling beside the front door. A knee comes up and rams right into Eddie’s side, knocking the air out of him. The side that was already bruised from Donna’s boot. He winces and sucks in a sharp breath while pushing the other man back to get some room. 

Jason loudly gathers saliva in his mouth and spits it into his face. “Ugh! What the fuck?!” Even without the porch light on she notices the dark flecks across his skin. He just sprayed him with spit and blood and used the distraction to get a punch in. 

“No!” she cries out when a fist connects with his face, knocking him sideways. That wasn’t fair. It’s fighting dirty. “That was cheap, you jerk! Get off him!”

“Shut up, Chris! Shut up!” He's straining to keep Eddie pressed up against the siding. One is stronger while the other is faster. It’s in Jason’s best interest to hold him there, otherwise he’ll keep getting hit. All it takes is one good punch in the right spot to end this.

“So much for seeing who the bigger man is, huh?” Between the panting and grunts, he manages to chuckle. And a wide grin. The image is startling. One she won’t forget anytime soon. “By the way, Golden Boy… I owe you something for being an asshole who pissed me off.” Craning his head back as far as it can go in that position, Eddie swings it forward, smashing him in the face.

Chrissy flinches, quickly averting her gaze when hearing a horrible crunching sound and a scream of pain. She wraps her arms around herself, trembling. This is scary. Those two are going to end up killing each other.  

‘I need to stop them.’

It’s no longer anything resembling an even fight. Just one man pummeling the other into the wooden boards of the porch. That headbutt completely turned the tide. “Eddie!” He freezes when his name is yelled out, fist still in the air ready to connect with the person below. “Enough already. Please… Stop.” 

Breathing heavily, his hand clenches and relaxes a few times as he stares down at Jason. “Dammit.” Eddie shakes his fist out and stands up, rubbing his knuckles gingerly. “You’re lucky Chrissy is a huge softie.” 

“Oh god!” It's apparent who’s in worse condition. Rushing over, she drops to her knees next to Jason while he pushes himself up. There’s blood running from his nose. It's covering his mouth and dripping onto the front of the varsity jacket. “Is it broken?” Seeing anyone get hurt is upsetting but her mind is already thinking of how much trouble Eddie will be in if the Carvers press charges. 

‘There’s no hiding this. His face is starting to swell.’

“I’m fine!” He wobbles to his feet, brushing her off. “It’s only a small nosebleed.” That’s an understatement and they all know it. He needs to go to the hospital. His nose collided with a hard surface. Maybe more than once. She couldn’t bear to watch every hit. 

Jason limps to the end of the porch, gripping onto the railing to make his way down the step. He’s kidding, right? 

“Are you serious? Let me call someone. You shouldn’t be driving like that.” Chrissy pleads, hoping to talk some sense into him. 

“Don’t pretend to care. It’s obvious what choice you made. After all this time, now you want to wear your heart on your sleeve and it’s for this bastard.” He motions towards Eddie who’s standing there with his hands buried in his underarms, glowering. “Go ahead, Munson. A greedy guy with nothing needs to take what he can get. There—” Pointing at her, his face twists into a bloody grimace. “You can have my sloppy seconds. Consider it a charitable donation.” 

“Shut the hell up or I’ll break something else.” Eddie spits off the side of the porch. It’s hard to tell if he’s injured or not with the mess on his face. If so, he’s doing a great job of not letting it show. 

“You’re free to do as you please, Ice Queen. No need to keep sneaking around and lying. You don’t have to put on a little act anymore. Everyone can see you for who you really are. When another girl takes your seat, don’t be shocked to find out you’re replaceable.” 

“I know I am,” Chrissy says quietly. Isn’t everyone to some degree? In the next month, she’ll no longer be captain of the cheerleading team. Soon, there won’t even be a place for her at school when graduation comes. Time will keep going and every spot she once held will have another person filling it. “Jason, this might not have worked out for us but I hope you find someone who can make you happy.”

Standing on the path in front of the house, he eyes her for a long moment, not saying anything. A myriad of emotions pass over his hardened features. The blood and swelling aren't enough to conceal them. Regardless of everything that’s happened, she meant it. There are good parts of him. She's seen them. He’s not entirely bad and means well most of the time, even if his ideas are seriously misguided. A true product of their environment. That excuse can only go so far though. 

“Hmph.” He staggers down the path to his Jeep parked in its usual spot beneath the streetlight. It takes a bit to haul himself into the driver’s seat before he starts it up and takes off at breakneck speed. 

‘Idiot. You’re going to kill yourself by being reckless.’ 

When she turns back to Eddie, he’s striding to the end of the porch as Jason did and hops down the step. His jacket is back on, no longer hanging off the wicker chair. “Wait, are you leaving too?” There’s no attempt to hide the distress in her voice. 

“...I’ll be back.” 

“O–Okay.” Chrissy bites into her lip at the gruff tone. Without sparing her a single glance, he marches across the yard. Her gaze stays fixed on the large Dio patch stitched to the back of his vest until it’s out of sight. The van isn't parked out front of the garage so it’s probably around the block. She slumps into the porch chair and drops her head into her hands.

What a catastrophe. A real mess. Eddie got hurt. It’s not clear if this is some tough guy act but there’s no way he isn’t. She saw Jason punch him and dig his knee into the side that was badly bruised. That doesn’t include what she missed. So that’s what a fight between men is like up close. Horrifying. It’s not the same as when kids at school go at it. No. This was personal. Their tempers, emotions, and years of antagonizing each other finally exploded and it got ugly. 

Time won't stop. The minutes keep passing. Her eyes shift to check her watch again. There’s no telling if he’s actually coming back. Twenty already slipped by with her sitting in the same position. Waiting. Hoping he returns so she can make sure he's okay. No one could blame him if he doesn't.  

The sound of a vehicle out front causes Chrissy to reluctantly lift her head. A blue and white car pulls up alongside the curb. At least, that’s what she can make out from the streetlight. Panic shoots through her seeing the bold words ‘HAWKINS POLICE DEPT.’ on the passenger door. 

'Oh no.'

Chapter Text

“Piece of shit... That fucking piece of shit!” 

Eddie paces alongside the van, throwing out whatever curses come to mind. The shaking won’t stop and his heart is racing from the adrenaline pumping through his veins. It’s parked away from the streetlights near some trees—a spot where the richies won’t notice. With the way he looks, a single glance is all it’d take for one of them to call the dogs out. 

A small trickle of blood runs from his nose. He doesn’t bother with it, letting the warm fluid dribble down his chin. Screw it. There’s plenty of that already mixed with spit thanks to that slimeball. Friggin’ nasty. It’s even in his hair and the last time he was home the water still wasn't working. 

This is horseshit. Passing the back of the van for the dozenth time, the urge to kick something is tempting. He’s smoldering with rage and there isn’t much that can bring him down at this point. No, it’s not only that. There are a lot of intense emotions clawing their way to the surface. Anger is the most palpable of the bunch. 

Chill out. He stretches his arms up and puts them behind his head. Cool down. “Dammit,” A different emotion begins to smother the red-hot anger. Guilt. Regret and shame are lingering close by too. Turning on his heel, he opens the door to hop into the driver’s seat. The rearview mirror gets smacked upward to avoid seeing his face. 

‘So much for helping her, asshole.’

A cigarette is pulled out of the pack to calm his nerves. Another reason to come out here. In the van, he can smoke to his heart’s content without worrying about getting her in trouble. Daddy Big Bucks could be coming back tomorrow. He takes a long drag and leans against the seat to stare up at the ceiling. Holding in the smoke to let it burn his throat. This blows. Just when it feels like he’s making headway with Chrissy, something has to mess it up. They were having a great time. She was letting him in. 

Then that dumb jock had to stop by to make a fool out of himself. 

The moment the doorbell rang, it was obvious who it was. It put him in a weird position. How does he help without crossing too many boundaries? It’s not his house or relationship. Telling her what to do would make him no better than the others. Still, no way in hell was he going to leave her out there alone with that lunatic. Not after the shit Carver’s said and done. As soon as the front door closed, his ass was next to it. He wanted to make sure she was safe. That guy can't be trusted around her. 

‘I made everything worse like usual.’

Running a hand through his hair, Eddie grimaces at the wetness on his fingers. He wipes it on his pant leg while trying not to think about what it actually is. One of those punches must’ve caused Carver’s teeth to dig into his lip or tongue for him to gather up that much blood in his mouth. It could have dripped down his throat from getting whacked in the nose. He’s too riled up to remember the exact sequence. 

“Tch.” A fight wasn't part of the plan for tonight. He only intended to keep an ear out to make sure things didn’t get out of hand while she said her piece. After Chrissy mentioned what happened on her birthday, his body just moved and the rings came off. Now it makes sense why she was crying then. It wasn’t over spending the day with a bunch of squares. 

‘If I knew that, I would’ve dragged his ass out of that Jeep and beat the piss out of him right there.’

He takes a deep breath and winces as the pain in his side worsens. Short breaths will have to do. It didn’t hit him earlier thanks to the rush but it caught up with him. That bastard sure likes body shots. Smart for someone who doesn’t have as long of a reach. 

None of this might matter anyway. There’s a good chance the dogs will get him. A popular jock and star player getting injured by the town freak? During a tournament where folks are banking on the team winning? Yeah, he’s totally screwed. Finding himself behind bars by morning won’t be a huge shocker. 

‘Really living up to that Munson name.’ 

Who’s gonna listen to him? No one will care. Most people in town despise him. They’ll be more than happy to let him hang. Hell, they’ll build the gallows themselves and ready the noose if given the opportunity.

Chrissy is gonna be in so much trouble. He wouldn’t blame her for being pissed at him. She ran straight to Carver as soon as it was finished. Just thinking about it makes his chest ache. He was an afterthought. Not considered until the Golden Boy was gone. It was stupid to expect anything else. Those two were together for a long time and broke up yesterday. 

With the way his luck is, he’ll go to jail and they will patch things up. Life gets off on dangling what he wants in front of him only to rip it away at the last second. It was going so well earlier too. So well that he got within an inch of admitting shit and made some soft moves. She was diggin' it.  

Lady Luck smiled down on him for a while tonight… then hocked a loogie in his face.

“Christ,” Eddie mutters, rolling his forehead against the top of the steering wheel. What a big ol’ mess. This isn’t the kind of trouble that’s fun. Sighing, his eyes flicker to the bag on the passenger side floor. Yeah. There’s no backing out. He’s in too deep. Probably was from the very start.

Chance’s house isn’t much further. There's no other option except to drive slowly to avoid crashing. There was a close call at the end of Roseline. He took off someone’s side mirror. That was enough to get him to cut his speed down considerably. It wasn’t until reaching the halfway point that he realized the headlights weren’t on. 

Everything hurts. That devil-worshiping garbage is going to get it one of these days. If he wasn’t drunk when they fought… There’s no reason a hobo should’ve gotten that many punches in. He works out on the regular and is clearly the more athletic one. This was humiliating. Damn him. Damn both of them. The freak is no good trailer trash who will never amount to anything and Chris. That… That… 

“Jason, this might not have worked out for us but I hope you find someone who can make you happy.”

He grinds his teeth, gripping the steering wheel tightly. After all the things he spat at her, why did she have to say that? Why couldn’t she cuss him out? Insult him? Smack him? It would’ve made him feel better about the entire situation. How annoying. This should be so much easier. He can't do it. He can’t bring himself to hate her. It’s difficult to understand her and what she’s going on about but it doesn't change the fact that he loves her.  

Seeing the house coming up, Jason slows to a roll as the Jeep pulls into the driveway. His eyes shift to the rearview mirror to assess the damage to his face. At least his nose isn’t completely broken. Hopefully. That demon's head is like a cinderblock. Hard as concrete and no brain anywhere to be found. 

Still, God is good. He’ll have to do everything to heal fast to stay in the tournament. The team needs him. Going there was a mistake. Knowing the loser was hiding inside wouldn’t have changed anything. It might’ve pushed him to go even more. 

‘They can have each other.’

Sooner or later, the freak will mess up or hurt her. It’s inevitable. Chris will realize that guy is a worthless bum and come to her senses. They have no future. Her dad will never accept him and force her to choose. If she’s dumb, she’ll live a life of poverty in a trailer with him going in and out of jail. A dirty drug dealer. Ridiculous. When she finally wakes up, there could be a spot beside him if she’s willing to acknowledge her mistakes and work things out. 

He scans the front of the house. People are gathered around the porch and garage. His frown deepens. They can’t see him like this. Not before coming up with a better explanation than fighting the freak. No one will ever let him live that down. 

The problem is that he needs help. Some of his stuff is inside. His bookbag is upstairs, and his wallet and house keys are in the front compartment. Another stupid mistake. Making it to Chance's in one piece was lucky. That was a short drive. Getting home from here would take a miracle and he’s not keen to keep pressing his luck. 

‘Not them.’

Anyone from the basketball team is out of the question. He didn’t spend years curating his image to watch all that effort go down the drain. Smacking Andy did him no favors. The party kids aren’t trustworthy. Word will make the rounds by the time school starts tomorrow. Most of the cheerleaders are on Chris’s side. After what happened at the party earlier, they won’t have any sympathy for him. 

‘There. She’ll have to do.’ 

Amber is standing near the end of the porch. He cracks the window. Thank God it’s dark. No one should be able to make out much. Moving hurts. Blood is still dripping from his nose and this varsity jacket needs to be dry-cleaned or replaced entirely. 

“Amber!” Jason calls out in an attempt to get her attention without alerting everyone. Pain shoots throughout his skull, causing him to lurch forward. Irritation fills him when she doesn't react. He does it two more times and gets the same. Nothing. 

A person next to the blonde taps her shoulder, pointing to the Jeep. She turns and squints, not realizing who it is at first. A surprised expression passes over her face. The heels come off again and she comes sprinting to the window. 

“Hey, what ar—” She stops the moment she sees him up close. Her eyes widen and a hand covers her mouth in disbelief. “Holy crap! What happe—”

“Don’t yell!” He hisses, glancing around to make sure no one notices them. His head is pounding. Why do some women have to be so loud and high-pitched? “I know. Look, about what you were saying earlier… I gave it some thought. I’ll agree on a few conditions but right now, I need you to grab my stuff from inside and drive me to the hospital.”

This isn’t an ideal situation by any means. Another person driving his Jeep bothers him. There isn’t much of a choice. If there’s any chance of him taking part in the championships, he has to suck it up and get to the hospital for treatment as soon as possible. And without destroying his name in the process. Otherwise, it’s all pointless. 

This girl will keep her mouth shut. She’s desperately seeking something and that’s useful. No one else has to know the whole truth, not even her. Getting on this straight away is important. He refuses to let the freak go around boasting about earlier. Taking control of the narrative is essential to fixing this. 

"Tell me what I need to do.”

This is so uncomfortable. Chrissy tries to resist chewing on her nails and folds her arms instead. Looking the cop in the eyes, she works on keeping the last remnants of courage alive. Officer Greene. One of the newer members of the force since Officer Powell became Chief after the previous one tragically passed away nine months ago. 

The station received a call about a noise complaint. That’s manageable. After some small talk and an explanation, the cop’s radio went off. She had to wait while he hopped into his squad car and sat there for almost ten minutes. Then the problems ramped up. It went from someone calling in to complain about yelling to reporting a ‘possible physical altercation’. 

In a town like Hawkins, there isn’t much that goes on. Any issue is a big issue. The police normally don't have a lot to do as it is. They can pour their time and energy into tiny concerns. Nothing huge has happened since the fire at Starcourt Mall last summer. 

‘This isn’t going well. At least he stopped asking to talk to Jason or my dad. I’m not good at improvising under pressure. I need to get him to leave.’

“—Am I getting that right? The complaint we received didn't sound like a couple only having a verbal spat. Is there something you’re not telling me?” This guy must be in his mid–to–late–twenties. Still pretty young. With the way he keeps looking her up and down, it feels like he's dancing around what’s really on his mind.

They stepped off the porch onto the walkway after she told him the bulb was burnt out and she forgot to replace it. This is annoying. She's already had a flashlight shined in her face and on her neck. He keeps asking the same questions. Rewording them isn't going to get a different answer. 

“Like I said, my boyfriend and I had an argument. That’s it.” Seeing his dubious expression, Chrissy knows she has to convince him somehow. “My neighbors always blow everything out of proportion. One thinks anyone new who moves in is a commie spy. Another flips out if you drive more than ten miles per hour through the area. It doesn’t surprise me someone called over a tiff." That's true and they're enormous busybodies. "But if you couldn't see anyone on the porch when you came up, then I don’t know how a neighbor could make anything out.” 

Under different circumstances, it might’ve been funny. The cop was startled when she stood up. That light has to stay off though. There's blood droplets everywhere from the fight. She's not inviting him in either. 

His lip curls up while scrutinizing her. Her parents always said to never lie to an officer of the law. That their job is to serve and protect, and not to impede their duties. Telling the truth means getting the three of them in trouble, especially Eddie. No way. 

“I’m so sorry about this and wasting your precious time by having to come here. This is my fault. I was the one mostly screaming. It’s just… Sometimes I’m a little much when it’s that time. My hormones are out of control and I get super emotional. I don’t mean to.” Officer Greene’s face twists in alarm at that. “My boyfriend. That jerk was flirting with another girl at school yesterday then he had the nerve to come by and try to make up for it with jewelry so I lost it.”

Pulling out the box with the bracelet, Chrissy holds it out for him to see. “Can you believe that? Like this will fix it.” She lets out a shaky breath, forcing herself to tear up. “Look at this! Why do I always go for guys with bad taste? I knew I should’ve listened to my father." The box is hurled toward the ground and she covers her face. In her experience, men usually turn tail and run when girl issues get brought up. Same with women crying and she doesn’t mind mentioning her dad again if it’ll help. 

‘I hate myself for doing this. What else does he want me to do before he's satisfied?’ 

The cop takes a step back, completely put off. Exasperated, even. He’s been here for a half hour and they keep going in circles. “Okay. Just… calm down. Breathe.” She dabs at her eyes with the bottom of her sleeve. “Seems like this was only a noise violation. I'll let you off with a warning since there haven’t been any problems at this residence. Next time, I won’t have a choice but to write you a citation.”

“Thank you, sir. I’m sorry for the inconvenience. It won’t happen again.” Chrissy says in a squeaky voice. Yeah right. Good luck with that. 

“I hope not. Have a good night, miss.” He tips his hat and walks to the squad car at a brisk pace. Great. Acting that way got him out of her hair. The squad car is driving down Roseline. 

Sighing, she picks up the box off the ground and slips it into her pocket. That was degrading. If it had been someone like Officer Callahan, this would've gone very differently. She isn't ignorant of how class plays a part in this. Plenty of the jocks and Loch Nora kids would have a few DUI charges to their name. Not to mention underage drinking, trespassing, property damage, curfew, simple possession, vandalism, and a bunch of other misdemeanors that get swept under the rug because of who their parents are. 

‘I didn’t expect him to give me such a hard time.’  

There isn't a soul in sight. Luckily, whichever neighbor called didn’t come out. Possibly to avoid causing issues for themselves later on. Her dad will hear about this. That's guaranteed. She turns around to head inside with no idea of what to do with herself.

Locking the front door, Chrissy hangs up her cheer jacket and kicks off her sneakers. It’s coming. A tsunami is closing in, ready to crash down at any second. The cop showing up held it back temporarily. That's proving to be increasingly difficult with the current solitude. Finding out if Eddie is safe and whether Jason made it back okay takes priority. There has to be a way. Maybe calling around? 

"Chrissy." 

She looks up and shrieks. A face. A bloody face hovering above her in the dark parlor. It returned. It's here. Her legs move to step back, only to give out. 

“Woah, woah!” Two arms grab ahold of her before she can fall to the floor. “Shit, my bad. Really didn’t mean to scare you like that.” A small apologetic grin cracks through but quickly disappears when he notices she's trembling. “It’s me. See? Not a cat burglar. I didn't mean to sneak up on you.”

There’s no creepy monster coming after her. Eddie tilts his head to the side and helps steady her. He flips the switch to light up the parlor. It takes a second to shake it off. Thank God it's him. She presses a hand against her chest and sucks in a big gulp of air. 

“Forget that. Are you okay?” Chrissy frantically inspects him for injuries. There’s dried blood on his face but it’s hard to tell who it belongs to. It's speckled and smeared across his skin. “I was so worried about you! I didn’t know if you were coming back.” 

Eddie regards her for a moment, the corner of his mouth curving upward. “Yeah, I’m good. Just a little banged up. Nothing serious.” Fretting over him seems to brighten his mood considerably. “So lying to cops now, huh? Guess I am a bad influence on you." 

“How much of that did you catch?” It’s one embarrassing situation after the other. What an awful night. He’s seen and heard the worst of her in the last two hours. 

“Only the tail end. You can get in some shit for that.” 

“I know. I committed two misdemeanors out there.” She was panicking. It was hard to think, let alone come up with a solid plan by the time Officer Greene showed up. That will undoubtedly cause her to cringe for years to come. 

“Bad girl.” He chuckles and crosses his arms. “Gotta say, princess. Never expected you to go the whole ‘I'm on my period so keep this up and see what happens’ route. Wish I could’ve seen the dude’s face. You went from calm to chucking stuff. I was sure the cop was next. He might've too by the way he skedaddled.”

“I didn't go that far." She could’ve gone the rest of her life without hearing him say anything about periods. It’s a topic that makes plenty of people feel weird, including her. That came out from knowing the reaction it gets. 

All that mattered was making sure no one got arrested, even if that meant prostrating herself in front of a stranger. The truth will hurt them. Eddie would’ve taken the brunt of it. This story can’t fully be told without mentioning Jason drinking and driving. The worst he'd probably get is a fine or a slap on the wrist. 

‘A newbie cop would love to get so many charges under his belt.’

Eddie watches her intently, his expression softening. “I’m not wild about you putting yourself in a bad spot like that. Could bite you in the ass later. I still appreciate it though. No matter who you were tryin’ to help.” 

“I didn’t want you to get in trouble. My dad is a lawyer and Jason’s parents are loaded. We’d be fine.” Her dad would be furious but he'd do everything in his power to scrub away any stain on their family name. Same with the Carvers. Both have plenty of money to deal with legal issues too. 

“Gotcha.” His gaze shifts away, aimed at the wall before trailing downward. Did that upset him? That wasn’t intentional. Either way, he’s a complete mess. There’s blood and spit and that dark hair is wilder than usual. One side of his face is a bit swollen as well. 

“Why don’t we go upstairs?” Letting him get cleaned up will make it easier to see the extent of the damage. So far, she can tell he had a bloody nose and it’s clear nothing was done to stop it. A faint nod is the only response he gives. She gently takes his hand, being mindful of his knuckles, and leads him to the stairs. There’s no resistance. He follows behind, being oddly quiet. 

When they walk into the bedroom, Chrissy immediately notices something that sticks out like a sore thumb. A faded black bookbag near the window he must’ve crawled through to get into the house. It’s different from the one he brought on her birthday. Larger, older, with the bottom of the straps badly frayed. “What’s that?”

“It’s my ‘oh shit’ bag.” 

“Your what?” She raises an eyebrow. Of course he would call it that. 

“You know, for when shit hits the fan. Has stuff I’d need in case of emergencies. Bandages, clothes, toothbrush, shampoo, soap. The basics.” 

“That’s smart.” It is but makes her curious why he’d have that in the first place. That’s perfect for someone who might have to go on the run at any given time. 

“I keep it in the van. Super handy. You never know when you’re gonna cut yourself or need to change.” Striding over to the bag, he crouches down on the rug and unzips it. “It's a little thing I picked up from my old man. One of his more useful ideas.” He rummages through it and pulls out a white metal box that he sets down beside him. 

“A first aid kit.” She needs to keep him talking, fearful of what the silence will bring. “There's an ice bag downstairs I can fill up. That should help with the swelling.”

“Before we do any of that—” Eddie slowly turns his head towards her and pauses. “Would you mind if I, uh... used your shower? The water’s messed up at my place and I’m not crazy about having another person's blood in my hair.” 

“Yeah, sure. Of course.” 

He picks up the bag off the floor and heads into the bathroom with her. So that's why he brought the entire thing instead of the first aid kit itself. She busies herself in the closet, getting a towel and rag for him while he looks around. “Big ass bathroom.”

She puts the items down on the edge of the sink, doing her best not to think too much about this. “Do you need anything else?”

“Nah. Got it all right here.” A hand pats the top of the bookbag. “Is there a trick to using that?” He points to the shower. That confuses her for a second. "Smacking it? Turning the knobs a certain way?" She shakes her head. “Oh, okay. Thanks a lot.” 

“No problem.” Chrissy quickly leaves and closes the door to give him some privacy. This night is getting more unreal. Now there’s a man who’s about to hop in her shower. It’s quiet enough to hear him moving around in there. Like the sound of clothes rustling and the loud clang of his belt buckle hitting the tiled floor.

‘Eddie Munson is naked in my bathroom.’

“Jesus.” Padding across the carpet, she sits down on the bed. How odd. At any other time, this would have caused an internal freakout. It’s not coming. The feelings are within reach. Lying beneath a thin surface and building up, waiting to break through. Ready for the smallest thing to trigger a reaction. With the shower running and everything calming down, the reality of the situation is sinking in.

‘I can't.’

One of them is okay. He’s in the shower getting cleaned up. That leaves Jason. She goes to the nightstand to get a book out of the drawer that's full of phone numbers she wrote down. The guys were at Chance’s so maybe he went back there. It doesn’t hurt to try. Their hangouts usually run late into the night. 

Skimming through the book, she finds the number and grabs the phone. Knowing if he’s safe will give her some peace of mind. It rings a handful of times before someone picks up. 

“Yellow.”

“Hey, Chance. It’s Chris.” There’s a lot of noise in the background. They're having a party. No questions asked. 

“What’s up?” His tone is light and friendly. Out of the group, he’s one of the nicer ones along with Patrick. 

“I was wondering if you saw Jason recently. Like, in the last hour?” 

“Hold on.” Something is blocking the mouthpiece on the other end. Perhaps he covered it up so she couldn’t hear. Chance is Jason's close friend at the end of the day. It wouldn’t be too surprising to get dodgy answers when it comes to him but this is more important than any of that. “Josh said he saw him stop out front and leave.” She breathes a sigh of relief. Thank goodness. “And he took off with Amber. You didn’t hear it from me though.” The words are hushed and hurried as if not wanting anyone to catch them. 

“Okay, thanks for telling me. Bye.” She hangs up as fast as possible, almost in a daze. That last part is blowing her mind. It was totally outside of the realm of possibility. 

Jason and... Amber? That doesn’t sound right. He brought her up earlier but it didn't click then. Emotions were flaring and their argument was in full swing. There hasn't been time to process everything. She's completely lost on how to handle this.  

It used to be easy to pretend stuff didn’t happen. That always seemed better than tackling it head-on. The more she does that, the more it piles up. There’s a mountain of garbage ready to topple over. What Jason said dug deep. Amber knows about her disorder and told someone. How many people did she blab to? And those two? 

“Then it’s true. Amber wasn’t lying. That's why you would suddenly run off to the bathroom. I didn’t want to believe it.”

Chrissy rubs her neck, finding it harder to breathe. Just when she was finally opening up and trying to trust others… Was Amber really her friend? Why tell Jason? The last time she made herself sick during lunch was a couple of months ago. She switches up her habits every so often to avoid people noticing. That failed. The thought of going there tomorrow is making her nauseous. What if everyone finds out? 

‘I can’t do this. I’m going to lose it.’ 

“Where should I put this?”

She whips around, startled. Eddie is standing there with his bookbag in one hand and the towel in the other. What he’s wearing throws her off. A light gray v-neck shirt and black joggers. Lounge clothes instead of his usual style. “There’s a hamper in the bathroom closet.”   

Get it together. She was so lost in thought she didn't register the water shut off. Or the scent that came rushing out with the steam once the door opened. It’s everywhere. That spicy, musky smell she enjoys. It's calming her nerves a bit. 

Eddie comes back out and drops his bag on the rug. He picks up the first aid kit. Neither says anything. They just move, with him plopping down on the edge of the mattress and her pulling up the desk chair. 

Sitting down in front of him, Chrissy checks his face now that it’s clean. There’s a slight bruise forming on his cheek where Jason hit him after the spitting incident. Without a word, she rushes downstairs to fill an ice bag and cup of water. He’s going to need it, along with some Advil.

‘I feel strange.’

After handing him both and retaking her seat, Eddie flips open the lid on the white metal box. He pulls out a prescription bottle. She eyes it curiously as he shakes a few white pills into his palm and tosses them into his mouth.

“What are those?”

“Vicodin.” Sipping some water to help them go down, he gives the cup back to her. “They’re pain pills.” 

“Is it that bad?” She whispers. Unlike the usual playful atmosphere between them, this one’s somber. 

“Doesn’t feel great. It’s up here that’s getting me.” He yanks up his shirt and there are a handful of angry red splotches along his sides, including the discolored one left by Donna. 

"Oh my god!"

“Gotta admit, I can’t stand the guy’s guts but he can take a hit. Not sure if the alcohol was numbing him to it or what. Nailed me pretty good a couple times too. The whole spittin’ thing messed me up. I didn’t think a polo-wearing khaki boy would have the balls to pull something like that. Crazy drunk.”

“He, um… made it back.” Chrissy takes a peek at what is in the first aid kit. Anything to distract her. “I figured he came from Chance’s so I called him.” 

“Good. It’d leave a bad taste in my mouth if he got wrecked after we fought." Picking up the ice bag, he presses it against his cheek. "You would blame yourself, even if it'd be his own damn fault."

“Mm.” She keeps her gaze lowered out of guilt. If she didn’t call him, he’d probably be relaxing at home instead of all bruised up. He could've been sitting on his couch watching Golden Girls. The things he heard about her… It’s surprising he wanted to come back at all. “Do you want me to take care of your hands?” 

“Sure, Nurse Chrissy. Bandage me up. I can go for a little TLC.” Eddie bounces his knee while she takes items out of the box. Joking nature aside, he actually sounds tired for once. 

‘Between that and those clothes, it looks like he’s getting ready for bed.’

Carefully taking his hands in her own, Chrissy examines the split skin on his reddened, puffy knuckles. He won’t be able to wear his rings until the swelling goes down. It might affect him playing guitar. She quietly applies ointment and bandages to the cuts. 

“You can have my sloppy seconds. Consider it a charitable donation.”

“Everyone can see you for who you really are. When another girl takes your seat, don’t be shocked to find out you’re replaceable.”

It hurts. All of it. Going out there was a bad idea. She should’ve told Jason to leave and if he didn’t, pretend to call the cops. Getting some things off her chest felt good but that came at a price. For every point she made, he got five stabs in. Ending this peacefully and wanting him to leave everyone alone was a bridge too far. 

“Hey, you okay?”

The question that started this. Her bottom lip quivers as the last bandage is wrapped around his ring finger. She’s not. They both understand that. Before, no one was allowed to find out. It had to stay a secret. Things have changed in the last month. A lot. More than she ever expected. 

If she's going to open up to someone, it will be this guy. 

“No.” Despite fighting it off, tears rim her eyes, making them sting. That thin surface holding everything back is littered with cracks. It’s beginning to seep out. “I’m… embarrassed and hurt… and angry.” Both hands cover her face out of shame from being unable to keep it in any longer. "I'm so selfish... I can't stand this."

“C’mere.” Eddie drops the ice bag onto the duvet and wraps his arms around her. That makes the dam fully burst. "You're not. A selfish person wouldn't spend time bandaging a dumbass back together." He pulls her in and sighs, rubbing his hand along her back. “I’d be surprised if you weren’t upset. That asshole said a ton of messed up shit.” 

“I wish... you didn’t... hear any of that.” It’s gibberish sprinkled over loud crying. No one would want their dirty laundry aired out. Jason made her sound like a self-centered, uncommitted, naïve, stupid girl who’s a terrible girlfriend. Perhaps it's true. Then there’s the eating disorder she’s struggled with for years and what happened in the Jeep. 

‘I'm nothing but problems inside and out. Why would he want to continue this?’

“Yeah, well, you didn’t need to hear any of that either. None of it should’ve been said in the first place. He didn't have to go that far.” His arms wrap around her and he slides her off the chair onto his lap. She curls into him, burying her face into the crook of his neck and grabbing the front of his shirt. “Carver’s full of it, you know. ‘Bout everything. You’re not replaceable and sure as hell no one’s sloppy seconds. That was the whimpering of a hurt dog lashing out.” 

The warm embrace and softer tone are soothing. This isn’t how it was supposed to go. He’s the one who's hurt yet it always ends up with him comforting her and trying to make things better. She's the worst. Jason wasn't wrong.

“This is kinda on me. It blew up when I came out. I couldn’t stand listening to that crap anymore. Didn’t intend for it to go that far. I mean, don’t get me wrong… I’ve wanted to punch him for a long time. Just not in front of you.” 

The crying peters out to sniffles. "That was—" Scary. Horrifying. Frustrating. There are a hundred ways to describe it. Those two had her shaking. She thought they would keep going until the other was dead. It was violent. What's going to stop them from doing that again? It only ended because he listened when she yelled. Next time, that might not work. 

That conversation can wait until tomorrow. He's in pain. They've been through enough for one night. At least they're together. Eddie kept his word and came back. “I get you had good intentions and I appreciate you taking up for me. Thanks. There are a lot of things I want to apologize for but we’re going to say the same thing to each other.” 

He snorts, reaching up to stroke the back of her head. “Not wrong there. If you start saying sorry, I’m gonna tell you to knock it off. Maybe pinch your cheeks for good measure while I’m at it.” 

That draws out a smile from Chrissy as she nuzzles his neck, finding herself relaxing into him. It’s going to be okay. There’s no need to break apart. His arms are holding her together for now. 

‘I’m so tired.’

This was draining. Crying once usually tires her out. It happened multiple times today. All she wants to do is snuggle up under the sheets and get some sleep. Staying like this, there’s a good chance of dozing off on him. “Are you staying? Or going home?” 

“I’ll stay if you’re cool with it.” She nods, trying to be cautious of the bruises when giving him a light squeeze. “Okay, okay. If you insist. Where should I crash? In the living room? On the floor?” 

Chrissy gets up to stretch, debating the matter. The den isn't a great idea in case her dad comes home early. Glancing back at him, her brow furrows. He’s leaning off to the side and his pupils are as small as pinpoints. This guy isn’t going anywhere.

“I think you should stay right there. You look kind of off. Are you going to be alright?” 

“Forgot how drowsy painkillers make me. Been a while.” Eddie sighs and runs a hand through his damp hair then freezes. “Wait. Are you saying you want me to sleep in your bed?” 

“Yeah. Why not? Unless it’s weird for you. I have some extra blankets in the closet. The rug is pretty comfy. If my dad comes home early in the morning, I doubt he’d be thrilled to find someone on the couch.” She’s going to be in for it as it is. There’s no reason to make it worse when it’s avoidable. “It’s up to you. Sharing the bed doesn’t bother me. To be honest, I’m too tired to care.” 

His eyes dart from the bed to her and back again. “Uh… Okay, I guess.” 

After locking the bedroom door—so no one walks in on this later—she heads straight for the bed. They already slept in the same room a few times now and even cuddled. What’s so different about this? She’s spent and he shouldn’t be driving. This is the best option for both. 

Crawling under the duvet and laying back against the pillows, she quickly gets settled in. Her eyelids are so heavy from all the crying. Everything else is dragging along thanks to the excitement throughout the day. She arches a thin eyebrow from seeing Eddie awkwardly standing at the side of the bed. Not moving. Just burning a hole into the space on the mattress beside her. 

“What’s wrong? Don't you want to sleep with me?” The stunned expression on his face makes her laugh. “If you don't, I’ll get something else—”

“No. No, it’s fine. You don’t gotta get up.” Eddie takes the plunge and slips beneath the covers. He lays flat on his back. Stiff as a board. There's no way that's comfortable.

‘What’s with him?’

The lamp on the nightstand is turned off and she closes her eyes, more than ready to float away. The nightmares haven’t come when they’re together so hopefully she’ll be spared this time. A light snore fills the room. That was fast. He knocked out almost immediately. The guy must’ve been more exhausted than he let on. 

“Goodnight, punk.”

‘This was a mistake. What a way to die.’

Why did it have to end up like this? Chrissy stares at shadows on the wall coming from the window. The only thing she can currently look at. Not with this heavy body pinning her to the mattress. It’s like being crushed by an industrial radiator. Large, hot, and unable to be moved by someone her size. 

At some point during the night, Eddie must’ve curled up with her in his sleep. He's mostly lying on top of her, with a leg thrown over hers and both arms wrapped around in a vice grip. The duvet is only making it warmer, trapping his heat beneath the covers. She’s being scorched and smothered alive. 

‘I just want to go to the bathroom!’ 

He’s dead to the world. Figures when she’s finally in bed with a man, he's a heavy sleeper who can squish her without realizing it. The pills could be the cause of that.

‘I’m not going out like this.’ 

Slipping her arms out, she stretches them as far as they can go toward the side of the bed. Her fingers barely reach the edge. Good. That’s enough to grab on. She carefully pulls, attempting to inch her way out of his grasp without waking him up. Last time, he grunted and tightened the hold before going back go his hibernation.

This guy is dangerous. That was clear when he almost took her head off with a pebble Saturday night. Also that time he nearly ran off the road after the Hellfire meeting. It’s all unintentional too, which might be even worse. 

“Jeez…” Chrissy lets out a ragged breath, dragging herself from under him. Being on the bottom row of a falling pyramid during practice isn’t half as bad. It's a miracle. She makes it most of the way and chuckles to herself over the success. All that’s left are her legs that are hooked by his. With a little maneuvering, they’re freed from their imprisonment. 

‘Yes!’ 

That was close. With one last tug, she slides down the side of the mattress, dropping onto the fluffy carpet below. She gets to her feet and rushes off to take care of business. There’s only an hour and a half until the alarm for school goes off. Not a lot of time left. 

It didn’t go as expected. Sharing a bed with a crush for the first time would normally be an exciting situation, right? Maybe cute or tense depending on the mood. Two people giving each other the look, perhaps even spooning. That wasn’t originally the plan but having plenty of time to lie there while frowning at the wall, those thoughts drifted by. Either way, it’s not supposed to turn into a death trap. 

She returns fast to get back under the duvet. The room is cold so this should fix that. It’s not clear what she actually wanted from this. After feeling so vulnerable most of the day, it’s likely more comfort and security. 

Chrissy turns to the side to take a look at the man beside her. Eddie is facing the same way, totally out of it. Dark wavy hair spilled across the pillow. His mouth parted with the light snoring and occasional grumbles. Words come out now and then but it’s a jumbled mess she can’t decipher. 

‘Even when the guy is sleeping, he’s still causing trouble.’

A hand hesitantly reaches out toward him. She swallows hard. The tips of her fingers caress his cheek. So smooth and soft. Recently shaven. His face is relaxed, missing the creases usually around his eyes and mouth from the expressions he makes. Though he’ll wholeheartedly deny it, he has good features. The longer she stares, the more gets added to the list of what she finds attractive about him. Now there’s time to peruse without being teased. 

Her gaze slowly moves down to his lips. They really are full. Nice and plump. There’s certainly more to them than Jason’s or her own. An index finger trails over to the corner of his mouth, experimentally prodding the bottom lip.  

‘I wonder what it’s like to kiss him.’

Quickly pulling back, her face burns brightly at the thought. Come on. After everything that’s happened, she shouldn’t be thinking about stuff like that. The though has crossed her mind. Would he be a good kisser or one of those people who slobber all over their partner’s face? Is it quick and sweet? Impatient and needy? Does he have a bunch of experience? It wouldn’t be too surprising. He’s older and sex, drugs, and rock ‘n roll are a thing for a reason. 

‘I’m curious. How different would it be from the ones I’ve had? I want to try it.’

Chrissy stifles a gasp when his eyelids twitch and something incoherent falls out. Did that wake him? She rolls over to pretend none of this happened when a long arm drapes across her midsection. Not again. Before she can escape, she’s caught in another tight hold. Getting out of it once was difficult enough. 

Eddie sleepily shifts so that he’s pressed up against her back, leaving no room between them. Turning himself into the big spoon. Better that than a boulder. He buries his nose in her hair and lets out a tired groan. The soft snoring starts up once more. 

‘This isn’t so bad. It's comfortable. I can live with it.’ 

It’s what she hoped the first round could’ve been like instead of being pinned down and cooked. Chrissy sighs contently while enjoying this new position. She shivers from the hot breath dancing along the back of her neck. It feels good. So does the way his body molds around hers. This is fine. No. Much more than that. It's cozy and safe. Exactly what's needed tonight. 

Within minutes, she's able to drift off again.

From the looks of things, he was right about this being his year. Magic is happening. It’s in the air and all around. That’s the only way to explain it. 

Taking his eyes off the road for a moment, Eddie glances at the woman beside him. Decked out in that tiny cheerleader outfit with a textbook in her lap, rushing to finish a worksheet she forgot to do yesterday. There’s at least a dozen of them in his room somewhere. 

Life is sweet right now. Weather’s nice. Water is back on at home. He’s clean and has fresh clothes on. A full stomach. The club meets later on to continue their Cult of Vecna campaign. It’s Friday so the weekend is about to begin. And to top it off, he’s the lucky guy who gets to drive the prettiest chick in Hawkins to school this morning. 

‘Good job, Munson. You little devil.’

His lips shift to the side to hide the smirk poking through as he mentally pats himself on the back. The good far outweighs the bad, and that’s all a dude can really ask for. 

The last two days were a wild rollercoaster ride. Chrissy actually broke up with Carver. That came sooner than expected. She made a scene with him in front of the jocks and he couldn’t be happier about it. Yesterday had its highs and lows. Like the not-so-cleverly worded offer to sit on his lap. She took it. That almost killed him but he reeled it in and went with the flow, willing to see where it would go. Then she tried finishing the job by letting him sleep in bed with her. Granted, he was loopy from popping those painkillers. It was probably more an act of kindness than anything else. 

He's apparently a nightmare to sleep with. Sharing a bed with another person isn’t the same as crashing on a friend’s couch. It’s definitely different from being at home where he can sprawl out on his mattress without worrying about rolling onto anyone. 

‘If I get another chance, I’m gonna force myself to behave or there might not be a next time.’

Eddie nods to himself. Yep. As she said, everything is always at stake. It’s still early in whatever this is, so he’ll be damned if something stupid screws it up before it goes anywhere. His big mouth almost did that already. 

“Can you grab me the tape on the far left side in the glove box? It's gotta hand holding a big razor blade on the front.” Chrissy looks up at him with those big blue doe eyes for a moment as the words click. Her attention is focused solely on finishing the homework from the class they share which he never touched. She fishes out the tape and hands it over, immediately going back to the assignment. “Thanks.” 

Can’t go wrong with Judas Priest. The volume is kept low to not be too distracting while she finishes up. They'll get through one or two songs before they're at school. That will be interesting. 

There’s gonna be a big stink today, whether word gets around about the fight or people running their mouths over them showing up together. With that stunt on Wednesday and the two guys involved—who have a longtime beef—coming in all banged up, of course someone will say shit. It wouldn’t take a genius to put two and two together. 

He doesn’t care. That’s right up his alley. This place needs to get shaken up a bit. It’s stuffy and boring. His mood is too good to get ruined by some schmucks anyway. After having the best sleep in the most comfortable bed, being treated to another bomb breakfast, and getting babied by the chick he’s had a thing for since middle school, there’s not much that can ruin his day. 

And best of all, a dirtbag like him has a real chance at this. Chrissy caught some feelings. He wasn’t entirely sure since she’s a nice person who frets too much but the way she looked at him the other night when putting on that eyeliner said it all. It's not to the same extent and that’s fine. At least it’s there. That’s a lot more than he could hope for after all this time. 

“Darn it.” She peeks up and sighs when they pull into the parking lot. “There’s only a few left. I guess I can get that done in Nocito’s.” The book is closed and stuffed into her bookbag on the floor. 

“Little goody-two-shoes.” He chuckles as she leans over the bench seat to pinch his cheek, only to stop after realizing that’s the side with the bruise. “A nurse is supposed to care for their patient, not make the injuries worse. If it means you’ll give me more special treatment, then by all means. Please continue.” 

“I’m not a nurse, you punk.” Chrissy pouts, turning a pretty shade of pink. Getting back in her spot, she eyes him from the side and makes a face. “And I already give you special treatment.” 

“True but I am a greedy boy.”

Eddie whips the van into a parking spot. One that isn’t too far away from the building since he’s not doing a deal or anything right now. He snatches the bookbag and his pail off the floor, ignoring the protests from the passenger seat while hopping out. Reaching the back of the van, the corner of his mouth quirks up when the huffy shortcake comes around from the other side. 

“Eddie!”

Like music to his ears. Teasing her never ceases to amuse him. She becomes super bashful or brazen and it’s too enticing to pass up. Not knowing which one he’ll get also keeps him on his toes. “What? This is my special treatment. It’s not like you come in with bumps and bruises for me to kiss better.” That does the trick. She spins around, muttering ‘fine’ under her breath. So damn cute. “You ready?”

“Um…” The cheerleader fidgets, tugging on the cuff of her jacket and glancing around the parking lot. Is she worried about people seeing them together or something? Unless she's looking for the Jeep.

“What’s wrong?”

“...Nothing.” Chrissy steps closer until they’re only a few inches apart, keeping her gaze trained on the ground. What’s this chick up to now? To his surprise, a small hand grabs onto the sleeve of his leather jacket. “I don’t want to stare at your back this time.” 

Oh. 

A huge grin spreads across Eddie’s face. Slinging the bookbag over his shoulder, he moves the pail to his other hand. If that’s what Chrissy wants, then that’s what she’ll get. It’s the law of the land. The hand on the sleeve slides down until it slips into his and their fingers lace together, holding on firmly. “You sure? Everyone’s gonna be talkin’ anyway but this gives them extra ammo.”

It’s not like he doesn’t want this. Far from it. Just like with the Special K, it’s only right to make sure she knows what she’s getting into. That comfy spot at the top might get ripped away. Being head cheerleader won’t stop some from ostracizing or even trying to bully her. There’s no way to always keep an eye out for that. A thousand people can love someone, yet it only takes one disillusioned person to pull shit. 

“I don’t care,” she says softly, leaning up against his arm. That's not completely honest. There was a tiny quaver in her voice. He can tell she’s trying and that’s what matters. “I’m tired of hiding stuff and worrying about everyone else. If they want to say things, then fine. Are you okay with this?” 

“Absolutely.” Chrissy’s face lights up at his answer. “Alrighty, then. Let's deal with this hellhole.” They start making their way through the parking lot. This is great. After what happened with Captain Douchebag and finding out her friend is a narc, he was worried she’d put the walls up higher than ever. That doesn’t seem to be the case.

As expected, plenty of people are in the parking lot. Hanging by their cars or gathered in clusters. Some stop to do a double-take. Others gape and tap whoever’s nearby to point. The hand sitting comfortably in his tightens. He gives it a reassuring squeeze in return. There’s nothing to be worried about. 

"Woah!"

“What the hell?” 

“You have to be kidding me…”

“Is that… Is that Chris?”

“Gag me.”

"No way!"

"Look at that. Someone got him good."

“What’s she doing with the freak?”

“Cunningham’s lost it.”

“Uh-oh… Carver's gonna flip.”

“Keep staring and I’m gonna start charging.” Bunch of sheep. Eddie hears everything. The gasps and questions. All the snide remarks. That doesn't bother him. He’s used to it. It’s Chrissy who isn’t. As the ‘Queen of Hawkins High’, nobody really gives her a hard time. That’s about to change though. 

If everyone didn’t know the 'it couple' isn't together anymore, they sure as hell do now. 

She’s putting up a good front. Chin up, shoulders back, just looking straight ahead as they pass by. Giving no one anything, not even an acknowledgment. It’s impressive but he knows her better than that. The grip on his hand reaffirms it. 

Getting to the front of the building, he holds the door open for her and they head in. “You good?” He arches a brow, watching as she takes a deep breath and rubs her chest. Then she giggles. 

“Mhm. Did you see that? They were so shocked. It was kind of exciting.” Seeing such a bright smile on her after that almost takes him out. “I don’t know how you hop on tables to yell at people with so many eyes on you. It’s different from a crowd watching our routines. I’d be terrified. That takes a lot of guts.”

‘Those people enjoy watching you cheerleaders do your thing. They can’t stand it when I do mine. Can’t blame ‘em either. I’d pick you too.’

“Yep. I saw them all right. You sure got a kick outta that, huh?” As they walk through the lobby, he stares at her, savoring the experience. Chrissy’s so pretty… Especially when she’s glowing like this. “Well, folks gawking never bothered me. I’m a pretty shameless dude. They can look all they want.”

From the first moment she came into the stairwell to now, it’s all been like a fever dream full of moments picked right out of his fantasies. Ones that were never meant to come true.

He’s almost expecting to wake up in his dingy bed at any moment, close to running late for school after hitting the snooze button. The captain of the basketball team is still dating the head cheerleader. Naturally. A stereotypical shitty outcome the herd expects and encourages. Chrissy still wouldn’t remember they hung out together at the talent show in middle school. They would cross paths in the hall or share a class without uttering a word to each other. And he’d continue being satisfied with longing glances every now and then. 

“So, what brought this on?” 

Chrissy peers up at him as they pass the main staircase, ignoring the stares and whispers along the way. It must be baffling to see them holding hands. What a scandal. “I thought it would be a good idea since Jason tried to keep our break up a secret. Going around and repeating myself a million times will be annoying. This should set the record straight. No one can deny it either because they saw it for themselves."

‘Clever. Let them do the legwork instead. The sheep will flock to gossip and spread the info themselves. Atta girl.’

“Also, I... I wanted to do this with you.” She blushes, turning her sights forward while staying close to his side. “I’m not happy about us having to act like strangers in public. It doesn’t feel right. Like this is all some dirty secret. It would be nice to say hi to you or the guys in your club without being paranoid that someone notices. That happened last week and it really stressed me out.”

Eddie crinkles his nose, knowing exactly what she’s referring to. When they were talking in O’s. That snitch ran his mouth in front of Carver hoping to cause trouble. That piece of crap Andy whatever from the basketball team. The same one that’s still on his shit list for that comment he made at Gareth’s. “I heard. Joey told me what happened. Not like I couldn’t hear Golden Boy flapping his gums. These ears work a lot better than he realizes.” 

“Oh crap!” She spins around, wincing. What’s that about? There’s nothing out of the ordinary. “I forgot I was supposed to do something. I, um… I’ll see you later.” She gives him an faint smile and reluctantly lets go of his hand. 

“It’s cool.” Can’t be helped. Probably important if she suddenly has to leave. “You need a ride home after practice?” That Amato chick gave her one yesterday but hopefully he can steal more time. 

“Yeah, if it’s not a problem. I don’t want to be an inconvenience.” Chrissy takes the bookbag when he hands it back to its owner. 

“You’re not. Good thing we’re in school or those cheeks would be clamped between my fingers right about now. Don’t get it twisted. I won’t hesitate to tell someone if they’re putting me out. ‘Kay?” He crosses his arms, leaning in to stare the cheerleader in the eyes to get the point across. “If you want one, just come to the drama room whenever you’re done.” 

“Alright. Thank you.” 

Giving a quick hug, Eddie watches as she strides down the hall in a hurry. He stands there for a moment out of curiosity. Something obviously caught her attention enough to run off like that. It doesn’t take long. There’s a person further down, looking at her expectantly. The two women begin chatting and go on their way. 

‘Miss Kelly?’

Chrissy had to see the guidance counselor? Huh. Could be for a bunch of different reasons: trouble, college crap, grades, or counseling sessions. Whatever. That’s her business. 

Shrugging it off, Eddie continues the route he was already on. A few things need to be checked before the bell rings. Guess it’s good Miss K popped up now. If that happens, it’ll get taken care of so she doesn’t have to see any of that garbage.

“I don’t want to stare at your back this time.”

It’s all worth it. Cuts and bruises are a small price he’s willing to pay. His lips curl up into a smirk while strutting past a row of gray lockers and students eyeballing him. That’s right. Keep staring, little sheep. He’s smug as hell and has good reason to be. There’s no hiding it. That’s apparent by the pep in his step. Everyone just has to deal with it. 

“I wanted to do this with you.”

Chrissy Cunningham is into him. And he’s crazy about her… to put it lightly. 

‘Heh. I’m the luckiest son of a bitch around.’

Chapter Text

‘Knew it. People are too predictable.’

Dark eyes narrow on the scribbles in marker across the metal surface. From the looks of it, specifically permanent marker. The letters are small and sloppy as if the perp wasn’t very confident pulling off the act. That or others were around and they were being sneaky. 

Eddie shakes his head. Of all the bullying tactics he’s seen over the years, these kinds are the lamest. Two types of worms do this. Those who don’t have the balls to say crap to the target's face and dicks that get off on making a person’s life miserable. 

This isn’t anything new. Everyone in the Hellfire had their fair share. He’s been left ‘messages’ countless times in the past. No one bothers with that anymore since it only gets a laugh from him and a quick cleanup job. Takes the fun out of bullying when the victim gets a kick out of it. 

But this? Not cool. 

He heads down the hall with one place in mind. The janitor’s closet. There’s a bobby pin in his pocket for stuff like this. Chrissy let him take some the other day. They’re useful. It doesn’t take long to unlock the door to nab a can of WD-40 and a rag. This isn’t his first rodeo but hopefully the last. 

‘Assholes.’

They walked into school today holding hands. That was barely fifteen minutes ago and the place has been noisy as hell. It’s unlikely the normies did this. The timing doesn’t make sense. No, he’d bet money it was one of the jocks that were hanging around the lobby on Wednesday. Those dopes have more reason to be upset and plenty of opportunities to get it done. 

“Tch.” Seeing the words again hits a nerve. If they want to do it to him, fine. No biggie. It’s when it happens to his little sheep or someone he cares about that it’s a problem. 

Cheater.

Skank.

Freak fucker.

At least it’s tiny so people passing by wouldn’t notice immediately. Usually, it’s large words scrawled in permanent marker or spray paint. This isn’t bad and he'll have it gone long before the owner catches a glimpse of it. Shaking the can, Eddie tuts and sprays the insults with WD-40. The janitor has a stockpile of it he helps himself to from time to time. It won’t be too surprising to find more sweet nothings on the club members’ lockers too. 

“What did you do?” 

He knows that voice. It’s yelled at him before for doing stupid things. Dragging his gaze over to the figures standing there, he internally sighs. Great. From that accusatory tone alone it’s obvious she has the wrong impression. 

The redheaded chihuahua and the one who insisted her stick figure have tits. Natalie and Charlotte or whatever. Chrissy’s cheerleader friends. 

‘Don’t be an ass. Don’t be an ass. They’re chicks and her buddies.’

“Ah!” The redhead’s eyes fly open after landing on the nasty words left for their captain. It’s visible once again from the foam running down the front. “You jerk! Did you do that?!”

Eddie gawks at her. “Yep. You caught me red-handed. Felt so bad about vandalizing her locker that I came back to the scene of the crime to clean it up. And I would've gotten away with it too if it weren't for you meddling kids.”

Natalie’s mouth opens and closes a few times until a tinge of pink dusts her freckled cheeks. She must’ve realized how bonkers that sounds after thinking about it for more than two seconds. The brunette beside her stays quiet while keeping her arms crossed. 

'This is friggin’ awkward.’

He brushes it off and twirls the rag, getting back to the task at hand. If they want to stand there and watch, then be his guest. It’s pretty insulting she automatically pointed a finger at him from the jump. Throughout his lengthy time at school, he’s never pulled crap like this or singled out girls to target. 

Sure, there are wild rumors about him and his band that have floated around for a while but c’mon. Sacrificing virgins to Satan for fame is totally different from this. Even he has his limits. 

“Why are you doing that?” The silent one finally speaks. She’s got a hand on her hip and the other playing with the charm on her necklace. Eyeing him with a strange intensity, as if trying to take a peek into his soul. It’s off-putting. Same as when the chihuahua was sizing him up on the way to the nurse’s office. 

“Why? ‘Cause Chrissy shouldn’t have to see it.” He says firmly, scrubbing the ink off the locker. This is partly on him. It was his idea for them to walk through the school holding hands in clear view of a bunch of jocks. 

‘This will hurt her feelings.’

“Are you two going out or what?” This Charlotte girl doesn’t mince words. Straight to the point. That’s something he can appreciate.  

“If you want to know anything, you’re gonna have to ask her. My lips are sealed.”

“Hmm.” Both of them are burning a hole through him. “Doing this is… awfully nice of you.” The skepticism is apparent. It’s understandable for them to be wary of a guy like him so he’s not gonna get bent out of shape over it. 

There. Finished. The perp better stay anonymous and never do it again. If he figures out who it is, they might find their tires slashed in the parking lot. One underhanded move for another. Unfortunately for them, he’s not above being petty. 

Eddie straightens up and turns to the two cheerleaders. Yeah. They’re on guard and seem uncomfortable. So is he. Getting closer to their friend means they'll bump into each other along the way. At the very least, he wants to make it so they don’t hate his guts. 

“I’m not a complete jerk, you know.” His focus shifts from one face to the next and back to get a read on them. They don’t have to trust him. It’s too early for any of that. Hell, it could never happen and he doesn't care if it does. Whatever. As long as they don’t tear her away or ruin what’s going on then it’s all cool. 

‘I don’t want to put a wedge between her and her friends. She needs ‘em.’

“Pssht! Sure you aren’t. All you do is call everyone names and we’re supposed to believe you’re not a jerk? Give me a break.” Natalie huffs, scowling at him. 

“Hey, now. I’ve never included cheerleaders in my rants. Not once. So no, it’s not everyone.” From what he can tell, the angry one mostly has her mind made up while the other is more on the fence. “Look, I know I’m a big ol’ pain in the ass. You don’t gotta like me. ‘Kay? All I’m tryin’ to do is get to know your friend better.”

The chihuahua purses her lips. It isn't bullshit. The cheer squad is probably the only team or club he hasn’t publicly slammed. Chrissy being part of it was possibly a factor in that but he’s got no beef with them. 

“That certainly helps your case.” Charlotte lets go of the charm and to his surprise, comes closer to him. He cranes his neck back when the brunette stops inches away, lowering her voice. “She just got out of a relationship and has a lot going on so you better not do anything terrible to her. If you do, I’ll cut it off and make sure there’s no way the doctors can ever reattach it. Got that? Chris is nice and lets way too much slide. I don’t. She doesn’t need another ass messing with her.” 

Eddie blinks, letting the threat sink in. And people think he’s the scary one. Cheerleaders have him beaten by a landslide. He's tempted to crack a joke but doing it in front of a chick who’s close enough to knee the boys up into his stomach isn’t such a wise idea. “Gotcha. If I ever do something that bad, then I probably deserve it.” 

She takes a step back and her upper lip curls. “Good, then I guess we have an understanding.” The cheerleader whirls around, almost smacking him in the face with her long dark hair, and strides down the hall like it's a runway with the chihuahua right on her heels. 

What the hell? That sure was… interesting. Their captain is definitely the kind one in the group. Still, that could’ve gone much worse. He doesn't get the vibe that they despise him and that’s more than he expected. They’re preps at the end of the day and except for his connection to Chrissy, none of them have a reason to talk to the freak.

‘These chicks are ferocious. Might actually try to kill me if I screw up.’

The school is buzzing up a storm. They're like a bunch of worker bees going crazy after their hive was shaken up for kicks. None of them were expecting it. Couldn’t fathom such a horror occurring right under their noses. Now that it’s out in the open, there’s no going back to the way things were. 

It’s fourth period. Halfway through the school day. The entire time, eyes have been following him everywhere. Giving all kinds of looks from confusion, doubt, surprise, and to his distaste, admiration from certain dweebs. The rumors have gone off the deep end. It should’ve been simple. Chrissy broke up with Carver then she showed up with him. That’s what happened. Nope. Some truly wild shit is swirling through the halls of Hawkins High. 

The most prevalent one is ridiculous. Carver dumped her for a teammate so he used that opportunity to take advantage of the poor girl. 

Reality is taking the backseat. A huge chunk of the retellings involves Golden Boy kicking her to the curb for a ‘new option’. The guy didn’t even show up today. Someone is spinning things in his favor and morons are buying it. Most likely the basketball team.

How Chrissy is painted depends on who's being asked. Good girl gone bad. A secret femme fatale. An innocent maiden tragically left behind is having a rough time picking up the pieces—hence making the blatant mistake of getting with his weird ass. 

He’s getting a better deal out of it than anticipated. No pitchforks and torches yet. Quite a few are impressed a loser like him was able to nab the head cheerleader. Plenty of dudes would want to hop into Carver’s empty seat if given the chance. Obviously, he must’ve barged in at her lowest point and worked his cult magic to seduce the sweet Queen of Hawkins High. 

The student body is in a state of shock. Even the science geeks are chirping in with their little hypotheses. Some flat out don’t believe any of it and others don’t give a damn, as they shouldn’t. 

This entire thing irritates him, especially when a doofus tried high-fiving him earlier for scoring the most unattainable chick in school. That didn’t go well. After telling the guy to piss off, he went to the stairwell for a much-needed smoke. 

Grabbing a handful of trail mix from his snack bag, Eddie shoves it all in his mouth and chomps on it. Idiots. He peers over at the jock table. Chrissy is sitting there with her cheerleader friends pouring over a magazine while chatting. At first glance, she’s taking it really well. His sharp eyes narrow in on their target, trying to sift through potential bullshittery. She's all smiles and more bubbly than ever. The gossip and people coming up to their table don’t seem to bother her either. Is this playing out as imagined or is it getting buried so deeply that she'll implode?

‘She said everything was okay in O’s but I’m not buying it.’

“Are you going to finally tell me what happened?” Henderson leans over and points to his cheek. 

“Oh, you know. Got in a fight with a level 10 lawful stupid paladin.” The guys in his band snicker at that. They were there when the spark was lit yet missed the coming explosion. 

“I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Jesus.” A tray smacks down on the table as the last member of their club joins them. “I never thought Kennedy would let me leave! Those dumb equations are not more important than lunch. That has to be illegal somehow.” Wheeler flops into his chair and ruffles the dark hair he’s been growing out. 

“Probably is. If it’s not, it should be.” Gareth adds in between mouthfuls of cole slaw. Henderson and Grant grimace at the small bits falling back onto his tray. 

Now that he’s settled in, Wheeler makes a face and glances around. “Uh, guys? People are staring at us. What did you do?” He turns to Eddie. No one pays them any mind until he acts up. 

“You missed out.” Jeff grins crookedly and takes a sip from his milk carton. “Everyone’s traumatized after bearing witness to our very own Eddie the freak strolling into school with Chrissy the cheerleader this morning. It’s a hierarchical catastrophe. One for the history books.” 

“Wait, what?”

“Yep. They’re all in a tizzy alright. Anyway, none of that matters. We have more important business to attend to.” Eddie puts his elbows on the table and presses his fingertips together, looking pointedly at the members gathered around. “Everyone can make it to Hellfire this time, right?” He focuses on the fresh meat and they both glance at each other. 

“Don’t worry. Lucas said he’ll be there. Practice is canceled because their captain is sick or something.” 

‘He better. That’d be two misses in the last month.’

“Or something.” Grant snorts, taking another bite of his hotdog. 

Sweet. He planned for the party to have their grand finale on the last day before spring break started. It’s perfect. Some leeway was added in just in case—player agency and all—but not enough for a single member to skip out on a month's worth of sessions. Stuff like that can derail a campaign. If it wasn’t for subs, that would've happened. They could always pick up where they left off after the break. The point was to leave on a high note, regardless if the party succeeds or fails. A memorable ending to an adventure they spent most of the school year working towards. 

‘I get why he’s doing it. Doesn’t mean I like it. The others are pissed he showed up with the Douche Brigade.’ 

“Good job, freak. Didn’t know you had it in you. Pulled off snagging the impossible. Who’da thunk it?” A hand slaps his back as raucous laughter assaults their ears. Goddammit. These bastards today. Twisting in the chair, his face scrunches up seeing the back of Johnson. A cocky football player who constantly wears his varsity jacket and acts like the season didn't end months ago. 

‘I’m gonna blow this place up.’

Dumbasses making snarky remarks about him is whatever. It’s the same garbage anyway. What chaps his ass are the innuendos and comments about Chrissy they keep sprinkling in to get a reaction out of him. If that’s what they want, then who is he to deny the masses? 

“Crap,” Wheeler says when he notices him pushing his chair back and hopping onto it. 

Eddie frowns at all the sheep grazing and bleating across the cafeteria. Some roll their eyes or just stare, hoping to get something juicy with what’s going on. They're getting under his skin and the ladies keep having their lunch interrupted by weirdos who don’t sit there, likely prodding for anything they can get out of them. 

‘Damn voyeurs.’

“What, you vultures haven’t had your fill yet?” He cups his hands around his mouth, making sure his voice is loud enough for the entire room to hear. “You want some gossip? You want the details? Well, I got something for you but it—” 

“Munson! What do you think you’re doing?” 

He sighs and drops his arms, knowing exactly who it is. So the King of Squares wants to make a cameo during the show, huh? The boxy older man ambles across the cafeteria, appearing as boorish as ever. This guy has a thing for the dullest gray suits with every button fastened and those shiny, clunky dress shoes. 

Higgins. The only person besides Golden Boy he’s had a longtime feud with. 

“What’s it look like? I’m doing the usual. Addressing my subjects, making decrees, giving out words of wisdom. Yada, yada.”  

The principal stops a table away from theirs. He pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out an exasperated breath. “You mean acting like a clown. This is completely inappropriate and you know it. Now get off that chair.” 

"Right away, sir!” Eddie stretches his leg to the edge of the table and steps onto it, turning back to Higgins with a smug grin. The smile widens seeing those familiar veins in the man’s forehead pop out as his blood pressure rises. 

“Why can’t you behave for even five minutes?” He hisses, holding himself back from losing his temper with so many watching. It’ll be let loose the moment they’re behind closed doors. They’ve done this routine for six years.  

“I always do. Isn't that true, guys? Don’t I behave?” The rest of the club is attempting to hold it in and not get into trouble with him. Jeff’s hand shoots up into the air with his index and pinky fingers out, making the devil horns. As the leader and supposed devil worshipper himself, he does the same. Throwing up the sign to everyone watching and banging his head while his tongue rolls out. 

“Enough of that!” The principal’s face is red with anger when he finally stops. 

“Listen up, Higgins. There's only two people I sorta behave for. Last time I checked, you’re not an Amazon or a pretty chick so guess what? You don't fit the bill. No dice, my man.” 

“Office! Go!” His arm shakes with rage as he points to the door. “And you're getting detention for encouraging him, Jeff.” 

Jeers come from the worker bees at the display. They love watching him get yelled at. Good for them but they don’t matter. 

Tearing his eyes away from the kettle about to go off, they land right on the cheerleader staring at him. They make eye contact and she blushes. If the small smile tells him anything, it’s that Chrissy found this amusing. He waggles his brows and she giggles, covering it up with the back of her hand.

‘Okay. I’m satisfied now.'

Jumping down onto the floor, Eddie marches past Higgins with his head held high. He didn’t get to tell off the lunchroom as planned but whatever. Entertaining the princess of the realm is worth getting chewed out and the detention he’s gonna be hit with. That was enough to calm his growing irritation with the herd for the time being. They should be grateful to her for the reprieve.

“What shade is that?” 

Chrissy pauses with the tube of lipstick between her fingers after applying a fresh coat. “It’s from that kit you gave me for my birthday. Let’s see…” Turning it over, she squints at the small label on the bottom. “Dread.” The girls raise an eyebrow at each other before laughing. Of course it is. 

“It's rad,” Charlotte smirks, relishing that she has a knack for picking makeup that suits her friends well. "Especially with that eyeshadow."

“Thanks.” It’s nice to wear whatever she wants without getting scolded for it. This shade was the top pick from the bunch. A medium taupe brown with warm undertones according to the kit guide. She goes back to making kissy faces in the mirror. 

Hanging out in the girls' bathroom with friends is a welcome break from the mess going on outside. There was going to be a ruckus from showing up at school in Eddie’s van but walking around with him holding hands? Mayhem. It wasn’t planned. Just an urge she had once they got there. 

He helped give her the confidence to face this head-on. All she had to do was grip his hand to remember there was someone else in this with her. The hard part is done. They know. It felt so liberating to walk up to his desk in Ms. O’Donnell’s to talk to him. That didn’t stop the stares or murmurs. By next week this should hopefully be old news.  

“It must be bad if Jason didn’t show up.” Charlotte cuts through the musings while fixing her mascara. Now that Val, Kimmy, and Sandy have gone back to the cafeteria, they can talk more openly. “What a cocky idiot.”

“Mm.” Chrissy lowers her gaze to the tiled floor. She only confided in these two about what really happened last night. There’s a very different story floating around to explain his absence. Eventually, he has to come back. It’s impossible to be completely healed by then so people will notice. This is set up for that.

‘I guess he couldn’t handle the thought of anyone finding out Eddie hurt him. He could've used being drunk as an excuse.’ 

That was horrible. She saw a very different side to both men yesterday. Her bad habit of trying to move on far too quickly is what started this in the first place. It genuinely scared her to see those two acting like bloodthirsty animals trying to beat each other to death. 

‘I wonder if Eddie didn’t trust me to handle it on my own.’

“I can’t believe anyone would buy that bogus story.” Natalie scoots back on the bathroom counter. “He wants to act cooler than he is. Some hero. Ha!” 

“What makes him sound better? Getting beat up by Eddie 'the freak' or some college guys for defending a damsel in distress? The answer is pretty clear.”

“I’m still having a hard time wrapping my head around that.” Chrissy heard about what happened at the party last night. This is going to make practice extremely awkward. 

“You should kick her off the squad. It's obvious she's the one spreading rumors that Jason dumped you for her. Screw that little backstabber. Ms. Tina wouldn’t care. Say she’s causing drama. That's a fact.” 

More conflicting emotions are piling on. Like there wasn't enough already. What is the right thing to do in this situation? There are a few weeks of cheerleading left at most. They would have to reorganize their routines and fill that position which will take time they simply don’t have. Making a hasty choice based on hurt feelings isn’t smart. 

“The team has to come before my silly relationship problems.” 

“These aren't silly relationship problems! She’s undermining you. This is flat-out disrespect. After everything we did for her too. We should've left her at the nobody table.” Charlotte is getting riled up again. “Why aren’t you telling people the truth? Everyone feels sorry for you and it’s really annoying.” 

“I’m not upset about it. Not anymore.” When the rumors first reached her, it was distressing. The plan had gone down the drain and a different narrative formed in its place. However, this one is more useful in the long run. 

“You're okay with them thinking you got replaced with that floozy?” The redhead's voice is low and sharp. It takes her aback for a second. Natalie and Amber were close before. They started butting heads this year and it went downhill from there. It was never serious. Mostly throwing barbs whenever an opportunity presents itself.

'Why?'

“That's probably for the best. If everyone thinks Jason called it off, then no one can entirely blame me for the relationship ending. My dad is who I'm worried about having a conniption. I can’t stop people from talking and coming up with all these crazy ideas either.” 

Chrissy heard it all. So many rumors like how she was distraught over the breakup and Eddie used that opportunity to bewitch her. Or that she paid him to help her get back at Jason. He's a dealer so he must be willing to do anything for money. 

Charlotte goes quiet for a moment. “...I kind of get it. It’s the classic story of a man leaving his woman for a younger one. Nobody will give Jason a hard time since he’s a guy. People will sympathize with you and see Amber as the homewrecker for inserting herself where she didn’t belong.” 

“Um, that isn't exactly what I had in mind—”

“Perfect! She can take the heat for this.” 

“I’m not interested in making anyone the sole bad guy. It’s better to let this blow over without getting too involved.” They’ll start spinning a huge web if she stays quiet. “People can say whatever. It doesn’t matter. I want to focus on getting through these next few months and moving on.”

Something is up. Amber was always friendly and dedicated to cheerleading. There are a lot of things troubling her and this odd 'relationship' with Jason suddenly came out of nowhere. This isn’t like either of them. 

‘I don’t want her to get hurt. She probably doesn't realize what she’s getting into. The people around him are demanding and so is he.'

“Okay, then let’s talk about a topic that's more fun. How about a certain someone threatening to cut off Munson’s junk?” A wide smile spreads across Natalie’s lips at the expression on her friends' faces.

“What?!” Please say she didn’t. But the way she quickly glances away tells on her. “Really?”

“I was joking. That was after he cleaned your locker. It was a little warning not to be an ass.” Charlotte shoots daggers at the one who ratted her out. “To be honest, I thought it was kind of sweet he did that. I still think the guy is a total weirdo. No offense. You must see something in him if you’re willing to be spotted in public together.” 

They told her about the incident after homeroom. How mean things were written on her locker and Eddie got rid of it. That was kind of him. He mustn't have wanted her to know since he didn't bring it up when they spoke earlier. 

“Can’t say I get it. He acts like an idiot. Look what he did in front of the principal.” The junior remarks dismissively. 

“There’s a lot more to him than that. He’s been there for me since this started. Not many people go out of their way for another person the way he has.” 

“That’s because he’s got an enormous crush on you.” Chrissy goes beet red at her friend’s words. Hearing it out loud and from the school’s own ‘Goddess of Love’ at that. “Oh, come on! Why else would a guy do all that?” 

“...He’s being nice.” She can’t even say that confidently. 

“Give me a break! I know you’re not that naïve. You didn’t hear how he said, ‘All I’m tryin’ to do is get to know your friend better’. Okay?” Charlotte does a fantastic job of mimicking the way Eddie speaks. “I can read between the lines. What he really meant is ‘Please let me date your pretty friend even though she’s way out of my league’. It was clear as day.”

‘I’m not way out of his league. Eddie is handsome and so talented. He has a bad reputation at school but I bet he could get hot women at shows. Ones that have boobs.'  

“Listen, Chris. I’m a man connoisseur. I know how they work and what makes them tick. From what you’ve told me so far and my own innate ability for picking up this kind of stuff, I’m telling you. That guy has been shot with Cupid's arrow. He fought your jock ex. Like, hello? Only someone who has it bad would do that to themselves. Also, he was staring at you while we were at lunch. I caught him. I could feel the eyes of a man pointed in my direction but it wasn't for me.” 

“Okay! I got it!”

The irony isn’t lost on her. To be standing outside of the drama room of all places. How fitting. Chrissy gets ready to knock on the door when it suddenly swings open.

"Holy crap. Hey, Chrissy. I didn’t know you were coming.” It’s one of the freshmen with a toothy grin and the ‘thinking cap’ he wears often. Dustin if she remembers correctly.

“I wasn’t expecting to show up until later. Practice ended early and your, um, DM is my ride home.” She feels strange calling him that. That only worsens with his amused expression. 

‘Why is he making that face? Did I mix up the letters?’

“The DM is? We’re taking a break right now. Eddie ran out to his van to get more snacks since we went overboard in the first half.” He steps out into the hallway, clearly intending to run somewhere. “No one would mind you waiting in there. The guys are prepping. Or our DM could always use a hand bringing in the chips and soda.” 

Dustin winks and gives her a thumbs up before taking off down the hall. She stands there, watching the back of his multi-colored shirt swaying until he’s out of sight. That wasn’t subtle at all… Still, a hint is a hint. Perhaps they'll run into each other along the way.

Passing through the front doors of the school, Chrissy walks through the parking lot to the spot she remembers Eddie parking in this morning. Sure enough, the van is there with the backdoors open and its owner messing with something. 

“Eddie!” She runs the rest of the way, not wanting to waste any time. The guy can be dangerous when he’s taken off guard. Sneaking up might not be such a good idea. That could end with her getting whacked with one of the many items from the back. 

Eddie freezes before whipping around. The confusion on his face turns to surprise seeing her hurtling towards the van. “Look what the cat—” That sentence gets cut off as she rushes right to him. Arms swiftly wrap around his waist while she buries her face into the club shirt, trying to be mindful of the bruises. He tenses up, keeping his hands raised. Same as the first time this happened in the stairwell.

“Sorry,” She couldn’t help herself. Glancing up, he’s staring down at her wide-eyed. His neck and cheeks are slightly flushed. “What's wrong? Did I hurt you?”

‘Hehe. Shy boy. I bet his ears are hot too.’

“No,” Eddie shakes it off and pats the top of her head. “I, uh… I’m not used to someone being so thrilled to see me. That’s one way to make a guy feel special.” He drapes his arms across her shoulders to return the hug. “What happened with practice? You end it early?”

Chrissy pouts, getting annoyed all over again. “There wasn’t much of a choice. It was a mess! Most of the team was sidetracked and Amber didn’t bother showing up. I ended up calling it a day.” 

That’s an understatement. Since becoming captain, she’s the last to leave. Not today. The other cheerleaders were more interested in gossiping. When they finally started their routines, everyone kept making mistakes because they weren't focusing. That can lead to accidents with what they do. 

After several warnings and breaks, that was enough. She threw her pompoms on the floor, then told everyone they were done for the day and to get it together for the game on Monday. It shocked the team but there’s only so much a person can put up with before snapping. 

“Christ.” He sighs, drawing her in closer. “Sounds like you got your hands full. Running a club sure can be a pain in the ass sometimes, huh? I have my own problem player. Not nearly as bad as yours but yeah.” 

“Were they there last time?” 

“Nah. You probably know him though. The kid is on the basketball team and usually prioritizes that over D&D. It’s blasphemy.” That gets a giggle out of her but she’s not sure who he’s talking about. Jason would never allow someone in Hellfire to join the team. “You gonna sit in on our session again?”

She breaks the hug and moves to sit on the back of the van. “If you don’t mind.” 

“Do you really have to ask?” The tone makes it sound as if that’s the most ridiculous thing in the world. Maybe it is. He never turns down an opportunity for them to spend time together. “Give me a minute then we can go.” 

“Mhm.” Chrissy swings her legs back and forth while watching him gather a couple of bags, including one from the front. "Do you always get that much?"

"No way. I'd be in debt after the first two weeks. We do this once a month and take turns. I get to be the lucky dude to bring in the loot this round." It only takes him a moment to get everything together before they walk back. 

“This time, can I not be co-DM or anything?” He raises a brow at that while holding the front door of the school for her. “I want to watch how you guys normally play.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah. I don't want to make the guys upset. I’m not sure how the meetings typically go but I got the impression it isn't like that.” 

“Not really. It was your first time seeing D&D and I didn’t want you gettin’ bored. One crappy session is all it takes to turn someone off. Kinda hoped it'd get you interested in playing.” He keeps his gaze straight ahead as they reach the drama room.  

“Then I’d like to see what I’m actually getting into.”

Eddie stops short before grabbing the handle. He turns to her with a curious look. “You still wanna play?” When she nods, the corner of his mouth curls up. “Heh. Wasn’t sure if you changed your mind since then. I can cook up a one-shot or small campaign once this one is done so you can get your toes wet. But just a heads up, I take D&D very seriously.”

That gleam in his eyes is a little worrying. Grant mentioned he was ruthless. Hopefully he'll show mercy to a beginner.

The door is held open for her again as they head into the dimly lit room. Most of the members are around the table chatting or going through papers in their binders. Those must be the stat sheets he mentioned before. 

“Chrissy!” Jeff spins in his chair and smiles at her. That draws the attention of the others, who greet her in a similar way. This is already so different from the last meeting when she awkwardly walked in with no clue what to expect. 

“Hi,” She waves, touched by the warm reception. One member doesn’t share their reactions though. It’s apparent why. Her jaw drops at the familiar face at the end of the table and he has the same bewildered look. 

‘Lucas?!’

He’s the problem player? Jason took him under his wing. That wouldn’t happen in a million years if he knew the freshman was also in Hellfire Club. Absolutely not. As far as he’s concerned, they're all loser cult members who strayed from God’s love. Lucas has real guts to play that kind of game. If the basketball team found out, he'd be in trouble. 

“Chill, Sinclair. She won’t tell anyone.” Eddie shakes his head and dumps the bags on one of the desks off to the side. Right away, the guys slide up next to him to start riffling through the snacks. “Hey, hey, hey! Chrissy gets first pick. You all stuffed your faces already.” 

“I’ll take some Doritos if you have them.” 

“I gotcha. You have two kinds to choose from. These bad boys recently came out.” He holds up a white and blue chip bag. “Cool Ranch. I wanna try ‘em. Heard they’re pretty good. Okay, guys. These are ours and the rest can be divvied up. Anyone who tries snagging stuff from our pile loses a hand and I'll put one character through the gauntlet for each thing that goes missing. DM’s rules.” 

"No!"

‘Ours? Me and him?’

Chrissy grabs onto the bottom of her sleeve. It's silly for that to get to her yet it does. Looking at Eddie, her heart softens watching him separate the snacks to make sure the members get a fair share after Gareth attempted to walk off with half of the haul. 

“That’s because he’s got an enormous crush on you.”

She takes a deep breath and replays Charlotte’s words. They've only danced around the topic without saying the quiet part out loud. 

‘What am I supposed to do? Should I blurt it out when we’re alone or wait to see what he does?’

It was so simple with Jason. People would get on their nerves by making comments on how they'd make such a cute couple. That started back in middle school. Their parents gave them nudges that were more like shoves. There was no magical moment where everything clicked. No steady build-up that finally burst after holding it back for a while. He asked a couple of times and she turned him down. That 'no' eventually became a 'fine'. 

“Hey, Chrissy. Come hither. I got something for you.”

Eddie motions for her to follow him. He has the bag from the front seat. Without hesitation, she prances behind him, excited to see what it is. They go to the far end of the large room. Alone. Why do this away from everyone else? Scenarios form in her head that begin running wild. 

“You did?”

“Yep.” A ringed hand slips into the bag to pull it out. He holds it from the top, letting it unfold. “As requested, princess.” 

“Wow! You really got it!” It’s exactly what she asked for Wednesday night. A Hellfire Club shirt with pink sleeves. 

He exhales sharply, crossing his arms and leaning back after she takes it from him. “I said I’ll see what I can do. The others won't be too happy about it but whatever. Figured I'd give it to you while we’re here.” 

“Thank you! You're the best.” She beams, amazed he managed to pull it off so quickly. That was barely two days ago. When did he possibly find the time to do this?

Doing this now likely means he intends for her to wear it during the meeting. Hopefully putting it over the uniform won’t be too bulky. She fumbles with the bottom of her uniform top, straightening it out to avoid the layers bunching up. 

“Woah, woah!” Eddie’s hands fly up as his eyes widen incredulously. “Right here?!”

"What?" Then it hits her. Now this man isn’t the only one who’s shocked. “Eddie! Do you honestly think I would take my shirt off out in the open with a bunch of teenage boys around? I was going to put it on over my uniform top.” 

“Oh.” The color in his face deepens. What a treat. A present and getting to see him becoming flustered twice in the last twenty minutes. “Well… Good. They probably wouldn’t be able to focus on the campaign if you did.” 

“Neither would their DM.” A slim finger lightly taps against his chest and stays there until his focus is back on her. “The game might be in big trouble after that.” Chrissy smiles up at him coyly, watching the different emotions flicker across his face. Just through the pad of her finger, she can feel the gentle beating of his heart picking up speed. 

“You’re not wrong about that.” He admits sheepishly. 

They stare at each other, not saying anything. There’s no better time to gather her courage. Brigitte Bardot wouldn’t hesitate. Sexy, confident women are willing to take chances. She always hoped to embody some of those traits. To have the guts to go after what she truly wants… and he’s standing here. 

The finger pressed against his club shirt trails up to its collar and slides across until reaching the messy hair hanging over his denim vest. Eyeing one of the dark curls, she twirls it around her tip and gives it a tug. 

Eddie lets out a shaky breath, becoming a dangerous shade of red. That only makes it more enticing. She gets to witness such a different side to him that is rarely shown. He swallows hard and his gaze slowly travels to her lips. 

‘Do I have to drag him down to me or get on my tippy toes?’

“Eddie!”

Chrissy jolts and lets go of his hair. A head pokes out from behind one of the large props. “Why does Grant get the only can of Pringles when they’re my fav—” Gareth stops in his tracks seeing the two of them. “Oh shit.” 

She's caught between wanting to stomp her feet and running off. They weren't doing anything bad but still. A few more seconds and perhaps he would've finally kissed her. Glancing at him, she gasps. Uh–oh. He’s beyond pissed, giving Gareth a sharp look with his lips pressed together tightly. The warmth in his cheeks is all but gone. 

“Told you not to go over there!” Dustin shouts from somewhere nearby. 

“Dammit, man.” Eddie sighs, rubbing his forehead roughly. Whatever would’ve happened is over and they both know it. The mood is thoroughly killed. He isn’t the only one not happy with the interruption. So is she. 

“Sorry, dude. Wasn’t trying to cockblock.” 

“That’s not—” His eyes dart from his friend to the startled cheerleader. “Give me a friggin’ minute and then we'll get back to the campaign.” 

Gareth nods and scampers off. The damage is already done. Was it on purpose? She can’t help wondering that since Dustin warned him not to come here. It was obvious that Eddie called her over to a spot out of their direct view for a reason. Maybe this was taking too long and the group wanted to get back to D&D.

"Sorry my ass."

“I guess I’ll go put this on,” Chrissy says awkwardly, thrown off by what happened. That more confident exterior she was trying out now has fractures throughout it. He arches a brow and looks at the shirt held firmly in her grasp. “I’m going behind that castle to change. It’s too warm in here to have both on.” 

“...Gotcha.” 

The room was at a cozy temperature when they came in. Currently, everything is hot. It’s her, not this place. Two layers will be a bit much. The cheer top is on the thicker side, even if it’s useless against the chilly Indiana weather during football and basketball season. 

Heading towards the large prop, she keeps stealing glances at him along the way. His mood totally shifted after that. Mentioning taking off her shirt didn't get a rise out of him like it had before. He’s standing there with his arms folded, apparently sulking.

“No peeking!” She says playfully from behind the castle. The top is switched out for the new one. As expected, it’s comfortable and a nice fit. No wonder the guys like wearing these. 

‘Why did he say they wouldn’t be happy about me getting this? Is it because I’m not a member?’

“What do you think?” Chrissy steps out into the open, smoothing out the bottom of the raglan tee. That grabs Eddie’s attention. The mopey expression melts away at the sight of the shirt on her. It's like flipping a switch and turning the lights on. “How does it look?” Hoping to keep this going, she twirls around and waits for a response. 

“Perfect.” The satisfied grin as he eyes her up is more than enough to make everything seem brighter. “Looks good on you.” He strides over and drops his hands onto her shoulders, letting his thumbs graze along the cotton fabric. “So does that lipstick.” 

“Thanks.” Chrissy blushes at that. He noticed. Perhaps that should be expected from someone so observant. Jason would only pick up on it because having anything on her lips was a no-no. “I can’t believe you got this done so fast.” 

“That’s nothing. Only took me a couple minutes.” Eddie waves it off nonchalantly. “All I gotta do is iron on the decal. No one’s spending hundreds of dollars on a heat press machine, so we do it that way. Finding that specific color took longer than putting this on.”

“Sorry if it was a p—” She stops herself when his brows shoot up. They both know what will happen if she finishes it. “I take it back! I’m not sorry, just extremely grateful. It was sweet of you to do this for me.” Peering down at the front of the shirt, she imagines him ironing a bunch of these and finds it amusing. “The design is definitely interesting.” 

“Hope so. I’m the one that drew it.” 

“Really?” That makes sense. He’s the founder of the club and is a creative person in general. Anytime she’s seen his worksheets in O'Donnell’s, they’re almost always littered with doodles. “That’s neat. You’re so talented.”

‘So I’ve been going to sleep wearing some of his artwork.’

Eddie scratches the corner of his mouth. “It’s nothing special. Made that back in freshman year. I could do a lot better now. It kinda grew on me so I left it.” 

“I’m not sure if you’re being humble or bragging.” 

“Both. Now that you’re suited up for battle, we should probably get back before another stooge barges in on us.” He points a thumb over his shoulder to where the rest are. “If we leave ‘em alone too long, they'll start digging into our pile.” 

‘Of course he wouldn’t forget about the snacks.’

Following him back with her uniform top in hand, those sitting at the table notice the difference immediately. After all, the light pink shade sticks out like a sore thumb in this room. 

“Hey, what gives?” 

“What?” Their leader asks innocently. As if he has no clue what they could possibly be irritated about. 

Gareth taps his Pringles can against the edge of the table. “Don’t ‘what’ us. You know exactly what this is. How many times did we ask to switch up the colors? And what did you say? ‘That’s sacrilege’ or ‘blasphemous’. Then you turn around and do it for someone else.” 

“I don’t mind.” Jeff chimes in. “It’s cute on her.”

“Right?” Eddie quickly agrees, turning towards her with a smug look. 

“That’s beside the point!”

She didn’t know this was an issue. Asking him for something is causing issues in his club again. The first meeting didn't go well and now there’s a t-shirt debacle. It’s one thing after the other today. 

“I'm not an official member so this isn’t a legit club shirt. Only a variation. More like a fan tee, I suppose. Please don’t be too angry at him. I’m the one who pushed for it.” She offers up in hopes of shifting the blame. It's become more apparent recently that Eddie hardly tells her no. Charlotte’s explanation makes it clear why that could be the case. 

“Nope. I did it and I’d do it again. You guys can be mad if you want but that won’t change my ruling. Regular club shirts stay black and white, and Chrissy gets whatever she wants. You know, as an honorary member.” 

‘Eddie!’

“Honorary member my foot. This is blatant DM favoritism, plain and simple.” 

“You’re damn right it is and I recall a certain Gareth the Great pulling some shit during a one-shot last year. Remember? When he brought a ‘companion’ along and got to try his hand at being DM?” The reactions around the table are fast and quite telling. Grant visibly shudders and Jeff covers his face with his hands. All three freshmen seem as confused as she is. The person in question shuts up instead of continuing to argue. “So I don’t wanna hear it. This is nothing compared to that. Now suck it up and let’s do this.” 

‘Whatever happened must’ve been terrible. I wonder if he’d tell me about it later.’

“I’ll grab you a chair, then we can get started. ‘Kay, m'lady?” He leans in close to whisper in her ear. Paying no mind to anyone watching. 

“S–Sounds good.”

A few things became evident once the ball got rolling. The last session is not how these meetings usually go. Without her being dragged in to interrupt the story, it flows better and is far more interesting. No wonder Grant was irritated then. The next point is glaringly obvious. 

Eddie was playing nice before. 

After telling the guy to act as if she’s a specter of sorts, nothing is holding him back. His ruthlessness was on full display, especially during their combat sequences. He’s loud, laughs with and at the players, chucks snacks at them if they get on his nerves, uses side characters to taunt them, whacks the figurines off the table with absolute glee, and makes rulings based on his whims. Those whims seem to be whatever he finds most entertaining at the moment. Then he switches sitting positions almost every ten to fifteen minutes. From being upright on the throne to laying across the arms or standing to shake it out, he’s constantly moving around. 

He's doing as she asked by allowing her to haunt the smaller throne beside him without taking his attention away from the game. If showing up means their sessions won’t be as fun, it’d be understandable for them to not like it when she’s there. 

Despite him mostly focusing on his role as DM, that didn’t stop Eddie from throwing her side glances every so often. Not to mention the hand that would sneak under the table to rest on her knee or touch her fingers. Whichever was closer at the time. It didn’t last long, yet still felt good. That gives her the best of both worlds. Getting to experience what Hellfire is about while receiving little gestures letting her know he hasn’t forgotten she’s there.  

“The figure dashes through the brush when he notices the party catching up. You’re right on his heels. After following him all this time, you can't allow this lead to escape. Once you get past the low-hanging branches and thorny bushes, you find an opening. It’s a dead end. There’s nothing but a cliff. The man realizes this too. His options are limited. Either jump or allow himself to be captured.” Eddie says in a low voice, slowly dragging his gaze over everyone around the table.

It’s even dimmer in the room than before. The light from the flickering candles nearby only adds to the scene, drawing her into his form of storytelling. The group decided to chase down the character after he took off since they failed their persuasion rolls and diplomacy checks. Whatever that means. 

“He grips the clothed item in his hand and glares at the approaching party. You recognize the pattern on the fabric. It’s the same as the one the priest showed you in the temple. That changes things. This person cannot be allowed to escape. The man panics, seeing no other choice in the matter. Taking another step back means falling to his death. He reaches into his sleeve and pulls out a dagger.” 

‘The guy is a dumdum.’

“The blade plunges into his socket and a shrill scream fills the air. Blood pours down his face as he removes his own left eye.” He says menacingly, balling up his left hand into a fist. “He throws it onto the grass, no longer having any use for it. Before the group can come any closer, a shaky hand starts to unfold the cloth and you feel an intense dark aura seeping out from inside. Pure evil in nature. Powerful. Familiar. The seal was already weakened from the earlier ritual and now it’s completely broken. All those lives were sacrificed for this.” 

“It… It can’t be.” Grant whispers to himself in disbelief. 

It’s kind of amazing how absorbed they get into the game. As if it’s really happening and they’re the ones whose lives are on the line in this adventure instead of their characters. The hands in her lap keep busy with the strange dice that are used for D&D. Rolling them between her fingers and trying to count how many sides there are without looking. An extra set the DM said she can mess with. 

‘I wonder what colors they come in. It’d be cool to have a pink set.'  

“The man sneers while looking at the object in his hand. ‘You fools should’ve killed me when you had the chance. A single naïve, benevolent act will cause the deaths of thousands of innocents, including your own. Now it’s too late but I must thank you. Without your assistance, I never would’ve gotten my hands on this artifact. The Eye of Vecna!’ He jams the orb into his empty socket and a strong wind whips through the area.”

‘I hope no one dies.’

“The artifact allows the renegade cultist to tap into a small portion of Vecna’s evil power at a great cost. You feel the dark magic flowing through him. Your chances of success are slim at best. Doing nothing will result in untold tragedy for the surrounding towns and villages. Countless lives are at stake. What do you do? Will the group stay and fight until the very end? Or run and try to find another way to combat this foe?”

The club is comprised of experienced players who have been at this for years. For someone who barely understands what’s going on half the time, it can seem intimidating. There's so many numbers and rules. She can only hope if they do play together that he'll take it easy on her.

‘Maybe I should try praising him beforehand to get more of that DM favoritism Gareth was talking about.’

Chrissy watches the streetlights and trees flying by through the window. The club’s meetings last longer than most others. Not that she minds. There’s no rush to get home. Her dad could be back by now and God knows what he’s found out already. 

So many things are weighing heavily on her. If only the advice to not care was easier to put into practice. Pulling her legs up onto the bench seat, she sighs while leaning on her elbow against the passenger side door. 

Music blasts throughout the van with Eddie banging his head along to it. He’s been in a great mood most of the evening. It’s a wonder how this guy can remain in good spirits regardless of what’s going on. Even the tussle with Jason didn’t stop him from grinning and making jokes afterward. She steals another glance at the wild man carrying on in the driver’s seat with a cigarette hanging from his lips. 

She's often ready to crumble under pressure. There were a few close calls at school. Having all that attention on her was overwhelming. It wasn't the usual nonsense. The tone and intent were different. She got a small taste of what it’s like to be on the other side. Eddie’s had to deal with much worse for years. He plays into it but it probably didn’t start that way. Does it honestly not bother him? 

“What’s up, princess?” The music is turned off and she can feel his eyes on her.  

“...Nothing.” Chrissy nips at the inside of her cheek. “I have a lot on my mind. It’s no big deal.” 

"That so." He jerks the steering wheel to the side, causing the van to veer right off the road.

“What are you doing?!” She grabs onto the back of the seat for dear life. They drive through some tall grass and over a large bump, then come to an abrupt stop near a row of trees. “Eddie! You scared the crap out of me!” Her heart is pounding and not from anything good. If she has a premature death, he'll be involved somehow. 

“Whoops. My bad.” He ashes his cigarette out the window and takes another drag. The headlights are turned off. “Since we ended up here, might as well spill it. Go ahead. Now you have my undivided attention.” 

‘This guy! He doesn’t sound sorry at all.’

“Is this about the bullshit at school?” 

“Not entirely. I mean, it doesn’t help.” Chrissy shifts uncomfortably against the seat. “I’m stressed my dad is coming home. Then when Jason gets back to school. I’m still upset over last night. We haven’t talked about it.” She says quietly, wrapping her arms around herself. “I… usually pretend things didn’t happen. You already know that. Sometimes, I think that’s the only way to keep myself together, especially with the… messed up stuff. It’s not working out so well for me.”

Eddie sighs, blowing out a large puff of smoke. “Everyone deals in different ways. Drugs, alcohol, sex, or pretending things didn’t happen. It isn't the best but it keeps you truckin’ along for now. That gives you a chance to change it if you aren't happy doing that.”

“I’m not. It’s figuring out how to deal with this that’s hard for me. I let it sit there and eat me up without saying anything. I’m not sure what to do but I don’t want to ignore it and repeat the same pattern.” 

“Hm. How about this? Say what’s actually bothering you. This ‘it’. Level with me. No fluff or trying to avoid hurting anyone’s feelings. A list, bullet points, ranting, whatever. Hit me with it.” Flicking the butt out onto the grass, he scoots across the seat until the sides of their legs are touching. 

Chrissy reaches down to grab the hem of her skirt, needing something to hold on to. She’s quiet for a moment while organizing her tangled thoughts. It’d be so simple if there was a way to rip herself open and show him what’s inside but no. Words are the only option. A hand slides over hers, completely enveloping it. That’s what she needed. Some human warmth and comfort. “Knowing you heard everything Jason said makes me so upset. Certain parts were extremely personal. Things I never even wanted him to hear about. I can’t help wondering how that changed your opinion of me.”

"It can’t be good for your body. You have to knock that off."

‘My chest feels heavy. No one was ever supposed to find out. Jason has no clue. I would’ve stopped years ago if it was that simple.’  

“Then there’s the fight itself. I understand why you did that but it’s not worth it. If Jason hadn't lied, his parents would’ve fought tooth and nail for you to be arrested. Your plans of getting a diploma and going on tour could have been ruined. There’s only so much I can do since my dad is the one with the money and influence, not me. And… seeing you both like that was scary. I wanted to handle it on my own. It always seems like no one trusts me to do anything. I’m… I’m rambling. Forget it. This sounds stupid.” 

“No, it doesn’t. I hear you loud and clear.” Eddie squeezes her hand. “You accepted my help but that doesn’t mean I get to do whatever I want. Also, if I’m making you scared and not in a fun way, then that's a problem. Doesn’t matter if I meant well. I got heated and let it get to my head.” 

‘That’s where I went wrong before. I need to be open and honest.’

“The garbage Golden Boy said about you? Yeah, it’s not changing crap for me. I get not wanting personal problems tossed out in the open. No one does. Can’t unhear it though. There’s nothing Carver or anyone else can say that’ll mess with my opinion of you. Not a fan of going off people’s word. I like to find out for myself. Would’ve missed out on a lot if I did."

The weight is more bearable. This is good enough for now. She’s already said sorry multiple times this morning and the response is usually the same. A pinch, a ‘don’t apologize’, then getting teased. Maybe soon they can both put this past them. 

She rests her head against his shoulder. “I know it's pointless but it’s still kind of embarrassing you heard all that. I’m relieved you don’t think less of me for it.” 

“Hell no. Unless I find out you’re doing stuff like kicking puppies on your off time, there’s almost nothing that could do that. But if you wanna hear embarrassing crap about me to start balancing things out, then let’s do this.” Eddie smacks on the interior light. “I’ve been tryin’ to grow out my chest hair since freshman year. Full–on shag rug style because I was told chicks dig that.” Grabbing the front of his club shirt, he yanks it down to show off his sternum. “Look at this shit. Almost as bald as Wheeler’s face. Pathetic.”

Despite the gloomy mood that was present barely two minutes ago, Chrissy can’t resist laughing. And he’s not wrong. There’s only the smallest patch of thin hairs in the middle of his chest. Hardly enough to notice unless he points them out. 

“I’m not sure if this helps any but I'm not into chest hair like that on guys. If I want to cuddle with a rug, I have a perfectly good one in my bedroom.” 

“Wish I could’ve known that before. It’d save me a bunch of time, heartache, and razor burn.” Eddie snorts while readjusting his shirt. “This is all I managed after five years. Don’t worry. I got more tidbits to throw your way. Might totally ruin me.” 

She stares at him. Maybe letting that go in one ear and out the other would be for the best. “You don’t have to tell me!”

“Nope. You were the one going on about balance in O’s so now you gotta listen to my humiliating exploits.”

Whipping down Rosaline, the van slows down as they near their destination. Such a shame. Time always flies when they’re together. He never has enough of it. It’s bull but more will come his way in the very near future. 

‘Damn. Here we are.’ 

“Keep going! Keep going!” Chrissy shoots up in the seat. He arches a brow and leans forward to get a look. There’s a black Benz in the driveway. That can only mean one thing. Daddy Big Bucks is back from fucking right off. It’s his first time going past the place with the guy at home. Before, he didn’t know which one was Cunningham Castle and had to drop her off around the corner.

“What do you want me to do?” Glancing between the street ahead and her, an uneasy sensation creeps through him. She's pale and the hands in her lap are fidgeting. It’s giving off bad vibes. None of this feels right. He doesn’t like it. There isn't much that can be done from his end without crossing lines which is exactly what they were just talking about. 

“Can we go around the block so I can get a minute? I think it should be okay to park a few houses down from mine. The neighbors already saw your van. I’m screwed either way.” She tries to take even breaths as her legs begin to bounce, making the anxiety she’s experiencing all the more obvious. 

“Sure thing.”

‘What’s her dad’s deal?’

As they turn the corner onto Douglas, Eddie steals another peek at Chrissy. He wouldn’t be opposed to letting her crash at his place. His uncle isn’t the type to turn someone away who needs help. 

“I feel bad,” she says quietly, hanging her head. “A small part of me is disappointed my dad came home. That’s not supposed to happen. I should be excited he’s back. Maybe that makes me a terrible person. It was lonely when you weren’t over but I think I prefer loneliness to walking on eggshells. He’s going to lose it when he finds out what I did.” 

Christ. It seems like everyone in Chrissy’s life sucks ass except some of her cheerleader friends.

“I got grounded for two weeks and lost some dinner privileges.”

Like any of that is normal. She said it so casually as if getting grounded and being denied food are things that just happen. Dinner shouldn't be a 'privilege'. Perhaps it is in that household. If only he could take her away from it all. Give her a chance to heal and find some peace. 

‘I’d only make her life harder.’

It’s a sobering thought but a true one. He has nothing to offer. Not now anyway. That could change someday.

“Don't beat yourself up over it. Folks always act like parents deserved to be worshiped no matter what and that’s total bullshit. Some really suck. Like I said before, you have options. If it gets nasty or you don't feel safe, you can stay at my place. It’s not much but there’s a roof and no one that’ll make you walk on eggshells.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that.” Chrissy moves across the seat to lean up against him. He purses his lips, trying to focus on not sideswiping any of the pricey cars parked on the street. 

Finding a spot that is close enough for him to make sure she gets in fine without getting her dad’s attention isn’t too hard. Most of the richies keep their cars in the driveway or garage. The ballsier ones don’t. The street’s a mixed bag. 

Eddie pulls up along the curb and lets out a long, drawn-out sigh. He already ate up plenty of her time with the session. On a normal day, she probably would’ve been home earlier when cheer practice ended. 

“I guess it’s time to face the music.” She sighs almost as loudly as he did. 

“If you wanna talk or he’s being a pain in the ass and you need to vent, ring me. Doesn’t matter how late it is. Okay?”

“Mhm.” Before grabbing the door handle, Chrissy stops and turns back around. That’s right. Leaving without hugging him is strange now but her mind is preoccupied with other stuff. Crawling over the bench seat, she plants her knees into the cushion and wraps her arms around him. 

Eddie returns the hug eagerly, pulling the cheerleader closer. He buries his face into the crook of her neck, enjoying the sweet scent surrounding him. This is the best and worst part. They get to be closer than usual for a short amount of time, only to go their separate ways afterward. 

This has become a routine of sorts recently. One he finds himself looking forward to when they hang out. It’s usually the same. A long hug and reluctant goodbyes. When he feels a pair of soft lips against his cheek and hears that ‘muah’ sound close to his ear, it’s very apparent their little ritual has taken a sharp turn in a different direction. 

‘Holy shit.’

Chrissy Cunningham kissed him. 

Instead of being the cool almost twenty–year–old dude who rolls with the punches, he's suddenly the wannabe hardass who was taken off guard by a pretty girl with a bright smile in middle school again. He stares wide-eyed, nearly in shock at what went down. Everything in the van is spinning, creating a twisting wheel of dark colors. It’s making him dizzy and she might be yelling but he could be having a stroke. 

“Eddie! The van!” 

‘Oh.’

That snaps him out of it. “Shit, shit, shit!” Slamming his foot onto the break, he glances around wildly and lets out a breath. What a moron. Straight ahead is one of her neighbor’s cars. In a stupor, his sneaker must’ve let up on the pedal. A couple more feet and he would have rear-ended a vehicle that probably cost more than his van and his uncle’s trailer combined. 

“You’re reckless! And dangerous! And…” It looks like she's on the brink of crying. As if they need any extra trouble added to the pile they’ve already created. That also wasn’t a great reaction to get after kissing someone. She grabs her bookbag and moves to get out.

‘I’m such a fucking idiot.

“Woah, wait a second!” Leaving on that note is a bad idea. “C’mon, Chrissy… Hold on!” 

She pauses with one leg outside of the van. Her head turns back in his direction, once again making that little pouty face that gets this chick whatever she wants from him. After a few seconds, the passenger side door closes and he's able to plead his case. 

“Listen,” Eddie says softly, leaning over to take her hands in his. She thankfully doesn’t rip them away. “I’m so sorry you have a thing for a complete dumbass. Honestly. Total dumpster fire mess of a guy. One real sorry son of a bitch. But if you give me another chance, I promise I’ll try not to kill us next time. Again.” He leans down to kiss her fingers. 

The change in demeanor is instant. Quickly becoming red as a tomato. “Well… Fine. It’s not like I wasn’t going to call you later or anything.” She says shyly, looking away. “I’m not mad, okay? I need to go though.”

“Guess I’ll catch you later then.” Watching as the princess of the realm hops out to return to her imprisonment in the tower, he’s relieved when she smiles at him before leaving. His eyes stay on her until she makes it to the front door.    

‘That could’ve gone better. Good job, you goddamn fool.’

He sits up to inspect his face in the rear-view mirror. Yep. There it is. A kiss mark with the new lipstick she’s wearing right beneath the bruise on his cheek. The only physical proof of what occurred. It’s staying there for the rest of the night until he eventually has to take a shower. 

At least she’s going to call him later. From how she was acting earlier, he’s worried about what could happen with her dad. They sure made a big ol’ mess while the guy was out of town. His daughter dumped the wealthy jock he intended her to marry and become a breeding mare for. Now she’s kinda seeing a dirtbag guitarist with long hair, tattoos, and no job who’s on his third round of being a high school senior. 

Fun stuff. 

The van pulls away from the curb and takes off down Roseline. This is probably gonna be a real pain. There’s no way an upper-class stick in the mud like Mr. C will be okay with him lurking around. Oh well. No one ever said this would be easy. 

There is one thing that’s for certain. Eddie’s not going anywhere unless the same lips that left this mark on his cheek specifically tell him to. Everyone else can piss off. 

Chapter Text

There's no telling what is waiting inside for her. It won't be good, that's for sure. Standing on the porch won't change this. Why should she be afraid of going in? That isn’t normal. It’s not what a ‘home’ is supposed to be. What’s the worst he’ll do? Yell? 

"Like I said before, you have options. If it gets nasty or you don't feel safe, you can stay at my place.”

Breathe. Relax. She braces herself for whatever is about to happen and goes in. Let the cards fall where they may. There are far worse things than getting screamed at. This won't be the first time disappointing one of her parents, so she's been down this road too often to count. 

It wasn't to this degree though.

She leaves her bookbag by the front door and listens for any signs of movement through the house. Footsteps. They're coming from down the hall near her dad’s bedroom. The familiar sound of his dress shoes tapping against the hardwood floor. He undoubtedly heard the door close. Scurrying upstairs at this point is useless.  

“Chrissy?” 

“Yes.” That tone is strange. Chrissy grabs the cuff of her jacket as he comes out into the open and is surprised by his appearance. He’s wearing the usual button-up shirt and trousers but it’s his face that's different. The dark shadows are gone. Almost like he actually had a few good nights of sleep. 

“You’re home late.” His eyes move from her to the pink bookbag on the floor and back. It’s said so matter-of-factly without the annoyance he’d typically express in these circumstances. “Did cheerleading practice go well?”

“Um. It was alright. How was your trip?” This is creeping her out. The body snatcher theory could be real. It's the calmest she’s seen him in the last year and a half. Ms. Kelly could've been right about stress from work and bottling things up taking a toll. 

“Fine. I just got back. Anyway, go upstairs and get changed. We’re having dinner at Enzo's tonight so look presentable.” With that, he heads back down the hall, leaving her flabbergasted. He didn't even admonish her for saying 'um'. 

‘What's going on?!’

Chrissy stares at the spot where he stood. He was acting weird before leaving too. Perhaps writing that letter was a smart idea. Did that give him the wake-up call he needed? She poured her heart out into it as a last-ditch effort to reach him. Going over everything—even from the past—that’s causing her pain and left deep scars that might never heal. 

A part of her is hoping this will last. That by some miracle they can attempt to have something close to a normal father-daughter relationship. But if he hasn’t been back long, then no one's been able to tell him what's gone on in the past two weeks. 

Sighing, she makes her way upstairs to get changed as requested. After how the day went, going out isn't very appealing. It’s better than having to rush to put together dinner for them.

Enzo’s is a quiet little restaurant that’s known throughout Hawkins for being fancy. A place where a husband would take his wife once a year to splurge for their anniversary. The spot in town to bring a date in hopes of impressing them. 

Chrissy takes a sip of water as her gaze travels around the room at the couples and acquaintances sharing a candlelight dinner. The chatter is kept low but consistent. Everyone is in formal attire. Dresses, blouses, suits, jewelry, heels, dress shoes, and hair styled neatly. Servers weave between the small tables that have minimal space between them. That makes it unfortunately easy to listen in on others’ conversations. A group of violinists with a cello player are stationed near the front to play for the patrons while they dine. 

‘I’m getting a headache.’

The smells and music are getting to be too much together. Various dishes, pungent perfume, cologne... It's a combination in a cramped area that's getting to her. The middle-aged woman sitting behind her is the primary culprit. She could sniff her out from the entrance with how strong that scent was. 

Ignore it. Chrissy stabs the last bite of her Caesar salad. The plate is gently pushed off to the side for a server to pick up. Her hands move to rest on her lap to avoid a repeat of what happened when they first arrived. She made the mistake of putting an elbow on the table and was quickly reprimanded. 

‘This is uncomfortable.

The ride here was as well. Her dad stayed quiet for the most part and listened to a local station on the radio. There isn't a big difference now. He hasn’t said much except for when the occasional acquaintance stops by their table to greet him. Most ask about work or his trip. The last person wouldn’t stop gushing over his custom-tailored dark blue suit. 

“How is Jason doing?” He asks, putting down his glass of red wine. The question causes her to shift on the seat. Of course this would come up. She fully expected it to and spent the car ride thinking of responses that were technically true without giving away anything that could be used to accuse her of lying later on.

“The Tigers made it to regionals. They’re doing well and we have an away game on Monday.” 

“That’s great. He’s a hard worker. I’m sure the team will make everyone proud this year.” Leaning back in his chair, he stares at her for a second before clearing his throat. “I didn’t forget about your birthday. How was it?”

“It was nice. The Carvers threw a party for me. There were lots of presents. Jason gave me a pretty bracelet. Everyone kept asking about you too.” She eyes him at the last part to see what kind of reaction it’ll get. He decides his cufflink needs to be adjusted at that particular moment. “Charlotte is having a sleepover party tomorrow and invited me a few days after you left. I told her yes. Oh, and I got my driver’s license on Tuesday.” 

That draws his focus back to her. “Well, someone has been busy while I was gone.” He says sternly, pursing his lips. 

“Phillip!” An older man in a tan suit stops at the side of their table. “Where have you been? I heard you disappeared off the face of the Earth.” 

“Good to see you, Charles. I was on a business trip for the last two weeks. That's all.” 

“Why hey, kiddo.” His gaze lands on her and she shrinks under it. “Amazing. You look more like your mother every day. Watch out, Phil. You’ll have to scare the boys away soon. Ah, they grow up so fast.” 

The sides of Chrissy’s mouth pull back into a reluctant smile as she politely thanks the man. The two begin the routine song and dance and are tuned out. That comparison made her stomach drop, almost ruining any appetite she had. 

‘I can’t stand this.’

This is the third person to come to their table to strike up a conversation with her dad. It’s part of the reason she doesn’t like going out as a family in the first place. Multiply that by ten when her mother was still alive who loved socializing. Of course in a dignified manner. Very much unlike her, who was always admonished afterward for being too excitable or sounding ‘dumb’.  

She sighs and leans back in the chair, letting her mind wander. This will take a while. It would be nice to enjoy a meal with no interruptions. A thought crops up that puts a genuine smile on her face. What if Eddie was here instead? Everyone in the vicinity would stare daggers at them while he stuffed his face and made a mess. And someone coming up to interrupt them? They'd probably get told to ‘piss off’.

‘That would be a lot of fun.’

“Chrissy? Charles is talking to you. Don’t be rude.” As is expected of her, she apologizes before he finally leaves. Now that they’re alone, her dad gives her a pointed look. “Why are you so distracted tonight? That wasn’t polite. I know you have better manners than that.”

“Sorry. I’m tired from practice.” 

A server arrives at the table with their meals. He carefully sets the plates down in front of them and asks her dad something but Chrissy’s not paying attention. Every bit of focus is on the food only inches away, enticing her. A soft rumble tears through her stomach and a pang of hunger she hasn’t felt in a long time rears its head. Medium rare filet mignon with mashed potatoes and steamed vegetables. The plates are small and so are the portions. That’s how it usually is at these types of restaurants. 

Without thinking, praying, or saying a word, she grabs the silverware off the table and digs in. The steak knife runs through the meat like room-temperature butter. Amazing. Seasoned and cooked to perfection. The heels beneath the table tap against the floor happily with the first bite. Juicy, tender, fantastic. She hums merrily while chewing the food, wishing she could cook this well. The potatoes and vegetables are delicious too. 

“Starving, are we?” That drags her out of food heaven and back to the present. Blinking, she glances from his disapproving expression to the meal on the table. Nearly half of it is gone already. Oh. Right. Some things haven't changed after all. Setting the fork down, the last mouthful is swallowed before pushing the plate off to the side. 

“I’m full.”

‘Elves are pretty neat.'

No wonder Eddie loves fantasy. The world in this book alone is incredible. Elves, dwarves, hobbits, adventures, fighting, danger, magic, ancient languages. This series has its own history and dynamics to explore. He said this was a small taste of Tolkien’s universe. 

Chrissy’s legs swing as she lays across the bed reading the book he gave her for a birthday present. The curtains are open, allowing the morning sunlight to spread through the room. It’s a beautiful day out. Spring is close enough to touch at this point. 

Despite dinner not going great last night, it was okay. Things could’ve gone much worse. Afterward, she called Eddie and they talked for a while. About how her dad was acting, what happened at the restaurant, D&D, and a riff he’s working on until she dozed off. What she did in the van didn’t make the list. 

Her face heats up from remembering it. There isn't a hint of regret about it. She did that and wants to do it again. He kissed her fingers… after almost ramming the van into the neighbor’s car. That could’ve ended horribly. 

“Mm.” Rolling onto her back, she stares up at the ceiling. Many intense emotions simmer below the surface. Some are familiar, others not so much. She thought about holding off on anything for a little while to grieve her recently failed relationship properly. That seemed like the respectful thing to do considering the lasting impact it’ll have on her and Jason’s lives. He has plans that make it clear he doesn't share the sentiment. 

Why shouldn’t she do the same? It doesn't matter if he's doing it to be petty. The optics of the situation aren’t lost on her either. People will say nasty things about her for moving on so soon. That’s already drawing a negative reaction like the insults that were written on her locker. Jason isn’t getting the same backlash, despite rumors spreading that he was the one to break up with her for another girl.

It’s okay for him to do that but God forbid she’s seen with another man. They make her sound like an innocent little girl who doesn’t know any better. That’s obnoxious.

“Why hey, kiddo.”

Chrissy is tired of being treated that way. Turning eighteen was supposed to change that. She’s a woman, not a child. Everyone refers to her as ‘cute’ and ‘sweet’. Sometimes, it feels infantilizing. Is it because of her body? Maybe they'd treat her differently if she had curves. Charlotte has them and no one would dare call her a kid. She’d lay into them if they did.

‘I wonder how Eddie sees me?’

“Chrissy!” A voice yells up the stairs. Her dad left early this morning and must’ve just come back. He's not angry so that's a plus. “Hurry up and get dressed. We’re going somewhere.”

“Again?” She puts the bookmark in place for later. The Fellowship will have to take a break. Back to business. He’ll have to deal with what she’s wearing since he didn't mention what they’re doing. 

It's better to stay on his good side and do as he asks before hell breaks loose. There’s no telling when someone will clue him in on what happened during his trip. This is stressful like waiting for a bomb to go off with no idea when or where it’ll explode. 

‘Un… Unbelievable.’

A hand slides the papers across the table to her father who promptly gets to work. The sound of the pen tip scratching wildly is all that gets through to her. She’s in a daze, barely registering the two voices bouncing back and forth close by. 

“—a big upgrade from the ‘84. The manufacturers worked out the squeaks and rattles from the last model and added the new L98 engine. It’s a smart investment. More powerful and fuel-efficient—”

The sheets are pushed in front of her with the pen slapped down on them. It’s her turn. Shakily, she skims over the forms and begins to sign them. Her fingers keep trembling. Too much time is spent making sure ‘Chrissy Cunningham’ is spelled correctly from being frazzled. With that finished, she hands them to the man sitting on the other side of the desk. He checks each one to verify everything is in order. 

“There we have it. That’s the last of the paperwork. Give me a minute to make copies then I’ll walk you out to the lot.” The salesman beams and gets up to do exactly that. Of course he’s happy. This guy will get a decent commission from closing the deal. 

To be honest, she was panicked earlier. There was no telling what this was about. When her dad kept driving for longer than a half hour and nothing but trees and empty roads surrounded them, the alarm bells went off. What if he heard about everything and snapped? Perhaps he was taking her to an isolated area where no one would find the body. That was silly. They were going to the next town. 

“Here you go.” Jerry, the salesman, returns with the documents for her dad. Surprisingly, he gives them to her to hold on to. “Right this way.” He politely motions for them to follow. 

Not needing to be told twice, she hops out of the chair to trail behind the two men. This is her first time in a dealership. The place smells like air freshener and coffee, and everyone who works here smiles when they pass by. A stiff, obligated smile she's very familiar with. 

They head to a door at the opposite end that leads to the lot. Her eyes jump around at the vast collection of shiny new cars. There are so many of them—row after row. Jerry is discussing details with her dad but she’s too excited to pay attention. None of that matters to her anyway. It might as well be in another language. 

“This is it. What a beaut.” The third row is where they finally stop. Right in front of a bright red car. Chrissy stands there in awe, trying not to shake like one of those tiny yap-yap dogs. “1985 C4 Corvette as requested. I must say, your father has impeccable taste, miss.” He holds out the keys. As soon as they land in her palm, all bets are off.

"Yes!" She grips them tightly and twirls on the spot, throwing her arms up in the air. Nothing to hold her back from cheering. Except for one thing.

“Chrissy!” Her dad scolds sharply, visibly embarrassed by his daughter’s behavior. There’s probably more he’d like to say but they have an audience. 

“That’s okay, Phil. This happens a lot when a kid gets their first car.” Jerry laughs and pats her dad on the back. “Please be careful. These are touchy and accelerate faster than you’d expect. I suggest taking it for a spin before getting on the highway to get used to it.” 

This is unreal. Hopefully this isn’t another dream and it’ll be ripped away the second she wakes up. Chrissy circles the car to examine it. It’s low to the ground with a striking red paint job. The front is long and its hood has a noticeable curve with the Corvette emblem at the end. Rushing up to the window, she oohs seeing the inside. Everything is red and black. 

‘You’re mine.’

“Calm down. We still need to go to the BMV to fill out paperwork.” Turning back to him, she realizes Jerry is gone. They're alone. “You can follow behind me on the way up.”

“Thank you!” The joy from this unexpected gift is too much to contain and she does something out of the ordinary. She hugs him. Tightly. With how reluctant he was to sign off on a permit, it was hard to imagine he would do this.  

“Your mother and I agreed to do this for your sixteenth birthday.” The hug ends when he coughs, clearly uncomfortable from the reaction. “I’m tired of Carver's snide comments that I’m the only one who hasn’t gotten their kid a car. Now you have a better one than them. When we’re done, I want you to go there and make sure they see it.” 

That's why he did it. Jason's dad was poking fun at him. She thought he decided to buy this after hearing about her driver’s license last night. That was naïve. From listening to him with the salesman earlier, this wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment thing. He was looking into it before leaving and they finalized the paperwork today. Everything comes down to showing off to impress people. 

“S–Sure. Will do.” Chrissy says nervously, not knowing how to get out of this one. He still doesn’t know yet. That’ll undoubtedly change by the end of the night. Thankfully, she’ll be at Charlotte’s and the title of the car will already be in her name. Solely. Once that happens, he legally can’t take it away according to their state’s laws. If there’s one thing she learned from her dad being a lawyer, it’s to cover her bases. 

‘Doesn’t mean he won’t grab the keys later or push me to sign some document full of conditions before we finish the transfer. I need to stay quiet until we’re done and not remind him of anything.’

“I’ll be in the car. Do as Jerry said. Drive it through the section then come right back. We’ll go to the BMV afterward.” He marches off to where they parked earlier. 

“Okay,” Gripping the keys tightly, an unsteady hand unlocks the driver’s side door. This is hers. It hasn't sunk in. Chrissy gingerly slides onto the seat, almost afraid to touch anything as the scent of leather hits her nose. The seats, floors, and door panels are red. Everything else is black. She glances into the rearview mirror. It’s bizarre to see herself in this. 

Fast, sleek, and bold. 

What a mismatch. It doesn’t fit her personality at all. That wasn't the intention but perhaps she can become like that. The keys aren’t the only thing that was handed over. It allows her to have a big slice of independence she never had before. No having to ask for rides or being an inconvenience. There won’t be anything stopping her from leaving a place when she feels like it. The sky's the limit.

‘I want to show Eddie.’

This will really shock the pants off of him. Maybe after this is done, she’ll make the meal that was promised and stop by. He’s into cars too. She has no clue about upkeep for them. Her dad’s no better so asking him is useless. He’ll say that’s what professionals are for like he does with everything else.

‘That’s what I’ll do. I can’t wait!’

“Christ!” Crawling from beneath the van, Eddie throws his socket wrench at the gravel. What a pain in the ass. Good thing he wore junk clothes for this. “Why do you gotta give me problems, old man?”

“That’s no way to talk about your uncle.” Wayne takes a drag while lounging on the couch out front of their trailer. Doing diddly to hide his amusement at the mess being made. He stuffs a pack of Marlboro Reds into his breast pocket and pushes himself up, stamping out the butt in an ashtray. “Ya might want to get that cleaned up before your lady friend gets here.” 

“I know, I know. I’m almost done.” 

The rickety front door slams shut behind his uncle when he heads in to return to his beloved recliner and watch some TV. With him gone, he turns back to the actual old man in question. His Chevy Nomad. The grumpy bastard that gets him from place to place.

‘This is mostly my fault. Sorry, dude. Hang in there.’

No wonder it retaliates so often. He’s put gramps through hell and back from the moment his ass hopped into the driver’s seat. Trying to make up for it by doing a little aftercare helps but that only goes so far. 

Dragging the drain pan out from underneath, the oil is emptied into an old gallon container with a funnel and pushed off to the side. Now that he replaced the filter, all he needs to do is add the new oil and make sure everything’s good to go. Taking the filter out is a pain and he never fails to get shit on himself. It’s only with the van. Anything else is a piece of cake.

‘It’s been longer than an hour. This chick. Can’t believe she hung up on me like that. I’m gonna pinch those cheeks whenever Her Majesty finally shows up. No being an idiot either. Last night was bad enough.’ 

The corner of his mouth quirks up as he finishes pouring oil into the engine. Whatever. That was then. Today is a new day to act like a fool. After spending most of the morning goofing off with Henderson, there was nothing else planned except going to the bar later. Gotta fulfill the promise to Donna for being a major asshole on Tuesday.

Saturday is the bar’s busiest—and rowdiest—night, and they can use an extra pair of hands. Making drinks, handing crap out, helping with the equipment, cleaning, or wrangling in the drunks. The Alkie bat alone isn’t always enough to keep folks in line. 

Eddie figured the spare time could go to stuff he’s been putting off like working on the van then Chrissy called out of nowhere. She was talking too fast. All he got out of it before being abruptly hung up on was her asking if he’d still be home in an hour or ate. 

‘So she’s bringing some grub. Can’t wait.’

He’s only had a PB&J sandwich and chips this morning. It’s not clear how she’s getting that little behind here but it better be soon because his tools are starting to look tasty. 

“Alrighty, gramps. That’ll do it.” After doing a quick check for leaks and putting the dipstick back in, he wipes away the leftover junk with a rag. What a mess. He probably reeks of oil. Maybe Chrissy’s into that. Wouldn’t put it past her. 

His ears perk up hearing tires rolling over gravel. A noise that’s getting closer. Hopefully it’s the princess and her food. Walking around the front, something red instantly catches his attention. The dirty rag in his gloved hand drops to the ground. 

‘What the fuck is that?!’

A shiny red Corvette pulls up alongside the van and his jaw goes slack seeing who's in the driver’s seat. He stares unblinkingly, totally thrown off by the unexpected sight. That's why she didn’t ask for a ride.

“Eddie!” Chrissy hops out excitedly. “My dad got me this for my birthday.”

He drags his gaze from the luxury sports car to its owner, finding himself surprised once again. This time, it’s by her clothing. She has on a white shirt beneath a purple zip-up hoodie. Nothing too wild. It’s when his eyes travel lower that the trouble begins. Skin-tight black leggings. He doesn’t remember her ever wearing anything like that before. 

“Holy shit.” It’s all he can manage. His eyes drift from the woman coming closer to the car again then focus on what matters. Chrissy. Her ponytail swings back and forth as she practically skips to him, smiling so brightly he almost has to look away. 

“I know! I’m still having a hard time believing it myself. Do you know what this means? I can go anywhere I want now.” She says victoriously and jingles the keys in her hand. He can’t resist grinning at that while slipping off the filthy gloves.

‘Mr. C finally did something to make her happy.’

“Damn straight. That’s a sweet ride. What year is it?” This is a newer model. Must’ve cost a pretty penny. He steps closer to get a better view. It's a work of art. There isn’t a single scratch or dent on the glossy red surface. Looks straight out of a showroom. 

“The salesman said ‘85. To be honest, I don’t know much about cars besides how to drive one and put gas in it.” 

“Well, that’s a lot more than some people.” Stooping down, he glances through the window to take a peek inside. Nice. A red and black interior. His favorite colors. There’s also a couple bags with containers on the passenger’s side floor. Must be the food. “You want me to show you some basic stuff like checking the oil and tire pressure?” 

“If you don’t mind. That would be a big help. Also, I was…I was thinking that after you’re done we could go for a ride?”

“Hell yeah. I don’t gotta be at the bar until later tonight.” As if he’s gonna turn that down. Getting to ride in a car he’d normally never get to touch while hanging out with her? Sign him up. “First, I need some food in my belly. I’m starving to death thanks to your orders.” 

“Oh, come on. It hasn’t been that long.” Chrissy laughs and walks to the passenger side to grab the bags. That sound has quickly become a top favorite. It's given away freely now and no longer restrained for whatever lame reason like before. “I might’ve gone overboard. There’s probably enough here for another meal or two.”

“Go overboard all you want. I won’t complain. You need help with that?” It’s the least he can do since she spent time and money making them dinner. Smells bangin’ too. If this is anything like her breakfasts, he’s in for an enormous foodgasm. 

“No, I got it. Aww! A few of the containers fell. Nevermind. We’re good. Nothing important. I guess that’s what I get for driving fast.” She bends over to gather everything up and he quickly focuses on the bench near the road. 

Unfortunately, his eyes are traitorous little bastards. He silently curses them and himself as they keep trailing back to the obvious. Chrissy’s perky ass. Those leggings are almost as bad as the scrap of spandex the cheer team tries to pass off for shorts. The tight fabric clings to her body in all the best ways, showcasing every soft curve in all its glory. 

‘You goddamn dog.’

Looking up towards the sky, his nostrils flare out as he takes a deep breath. Doing everything to resist the overwhelming urge to smack her ass. Jesus Christ. The fingers at his sides are squirming like crazy, just itching to take a crack at it. Especially when she’s swaying back and forth while humming some song. 

‘Nope. Nope! Don't do it. Hold it in.'  

Eddie turns and crosses his arms to avoid temptation. After hearing the argument between her and Carver, he knows to tread extra carefully now. Bringing it up feels off since no one was supposed to be listening to any of that. It’s better to let her set the pace. That’s cool. Might increase the chances of him acting like a total nimrod though. 

“Ready,” Chrissy uses her hip to shut the car door and heads for the steps, carrying a platter beneath the bags that were in there. He must've missed it. And she jerks away when he goes to take some off the top. “I made it. I’m carrying it.” 

“Fine, fine. Have it your way.” It's not his so there's no point arguing. He shrugs, stepping back to hold the front door open for her. 

As soon as they head in, his uncle is on his feet, ready to put on the ‘Munson charm’. Whatever the hell that is. “It’s been a while. Here, let me get that for you.” Before she can respond, the pile is snatched right out of her arms and taken to the counter. The crap already on it is pushed off to the side with the platter to make room. “Eddie, how are ya gonna watch a lady carry all this and not help?” 

‘I tried dammit!’

“Sorry, Mr. Munson. That’s my fault. I wouldn’t let him.” She clasps her hands together and shoots them a sweet smile, melting both men on the spot. "Eddie is always doing stuff for me so I wanted to do something for him in return."

‘The Munson charm is nothing when in the presence of an all-powerful being. He’s a goner. We never stood a chance.’

“Mmgh. It smells great. My nephew tells me your cookin’s the best." 

“It’s alright I guess. I’m not a pro or anything."

"Is that fried chicken?"

"Yep! There’s also mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, and peanut butter cookies. I wasn’t sure what you two like so hopefully this is okay.”

“You kiddin’? Course it is. Hold on. Let me get the good plates out.” 

Eddie sighs and rolls his head along his shoulders while they carry on in the kitchen. He might as well not even be here anymore. Wayne is busy talking Chrissy’s ear off and she’s too polite to worm out of it. Still… Watching them from across the counter, they seem to be getting along fine.

Damn. His chest is warm and heavy. Part of him wants to say it’s just heartburn but that’s a load of shit. He already knows what it is. 

“—my boy’s a real gentleman. Don’t listen to what people say. Sure, he's a little rough. Uses some colorful language too. That means nothin’. He’s a great fella… Gets his good looks and charm from me if ya couldn’t tell. Smart as a whip to boot. Have you heard him play guitar? After we’re done, get him to play ya somethin’. There’s three of them in that room back there—”

Pretending not to hear any of this, he pinches the bridge of his nose and tries to put out the fire working its way up. What the hell does Wayne think he's doing? The old man is normally a grouch that keeps to himself. What is putting on a show gonna do? Is he hoping this sales pitch will get them together or some shit? Not gonna happen. Chrissy dumped Golden Boy a few days ago and she’d have to be off her rocker to want a guy like him for anything legit. 

‘Hmm… Chrissy Munson… Eddie Cunningham… Edward Cunningham the First. Heh! That sounds fancy. Bet it’d really piss off Mr. C. The whole town might riot over that one. I kinda like Chrissy Munson though.’

“Crap!” His hands grab onto the edge of the counter when his knees suddenly give out. Another part of his body that’s being extra rebellious today. Both raise their brows at him. “My bad. I’ve been starving so long I can’t stand anymore.” 

“Here.” Chrissy holds out a cookie for him. “Your blood sugar could be low.” Seeing that concerned expression on her face hits Eddie right where it hurts the most. She’s genuinely worried about him and all he’s doing is acting like a dumbass once again.

‘I guess they liked it. That’s good.’

Neither man has barely moved a muscle in the last half hour. The most Wayne has done is reach for his drink. Eddie is worse off. He's lounging on the couch with a red bandana pulled over his eyes and his mouth slightly open. The only thing giving away that he’s not asleep is the little groans that slip out occasionally, along with ‘Christ’ or another of his favorite words.

“Are you okay?” Maybe that was too much for him. She had never seen someone eat like that. It was terrible. Worse than when they went to the diner. He practically inhaled everything. The plate on the end table has a mountain of bones stripped clean of meat. At one point, she was sure he’d start gnawing at them if his uncle didn’t say something. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout him. He’s in a food coma. It’ll be over soon.” Wayne finally sits up on his chair. “That hit the spot. Where’d ya learn to cook like that?”

It’s nice to have people appreciate the effort she puts into cooking for once. They both kept complimenting her while devouring the meal as well. “Thank you. I used to watch my mom when I was growing up. We also have cookbooks at home.”

If her mom watched what went down in that kitchen, she'd want to kill her. That wasn't pretty. She had to hop back to avoid getting splattered with hot oil. There was flour on the counters and floor. Potato peels that went flying and missed the trash can from her rushing. A thousand dirty dishes. It took forever to clean it up. 

“Ain’t that somethin’. If ya want, I'd be happy to sign adoption papers. I could finally eat like a king. This one almost burned the place down a few times." 

“Absolutely not.” Eddie shoots up on the cushion and yanks the bandana back in place. “Don’t go trying to make things weird between us. We live in Indiana, not Alabama.” 

‘That brought him back to life.’

“Alright, don't have a cow.” The older man grunts as he grabs his boots off the floor near his recliner. “Would ya look at the time? ‘Spose to meet some fellas at the pub to watch the game.” Standing up, he grabs his keys off the end table and throws on a coat. “You two behave yourselves. Thanks again for the meal, Chrissy. Don’t be a stranger now, ya hear?”

“Of course.” She flashes Wayne a bright smile before he closes the door. That was sudden. It took him two minutes to get ready and leave after being immobile for a while. 

Now that they’re alone, her gaze gradually shifts toward the man sitting beside her. Eddie is staring down at his rings, twisting the lone one on his right hand around. Being unusually quiet. Perhaps eating so much made him lethargic. 

This place dredges up some memories from the first time she was here. That was a month ago when they met up after the game for her to do Special K. It didn’t happen but other things did. In this very room. 

‘Don’t think about it.’

“Hey, do you still want to go on that ride?” 

“Like I’d pass that up.” He makes a face like she's being silly. “Let me take a shower real quick. I got some crap on me from the van and I’d rather not get it all over your fancy-ass new car. You can chill in my room if you want. It’s better than sitting out here.” 

“Sure,” Chrissy gets up to follow him. It’s understandable why carrying groceries through her home seemed like such a nuisance. This guy is used to everything being easily accessible. Kitchen, bathroom, closet, bedroom. They’re down a small hall. 

When they pass the doorway, her eyes immediately dart everywhere. It’s an overload. Unlike then, her nerves aren’t going haywire so it’s easier to take in the surroundings. So many things were missed before. For instance, she didn’t realize this was a one-bedroom trailer. Or notice the folding bed in the corner of their living room.

‘Wayne sleeps out there so his nephew can have a bedroom.'

“Make yourself at home.” Eddie crouches down in front of a laundry basket in the corner and tears through the clothes. He holds a shirt up only to toss it on the floor, then does the same with the next one. “I’ll be quick.”

“Take your time.” They don't have anywhere to go until later. Charlotte asked her and Natalie to stop by earlier than everyone else to hang out but that’s hours from now. 

‘Wow.’

Their bedrooms are complete opposites. Hers is in all light colors with limited clutter. Soft, clean, and organized. This guy’s? It’s kind of a mess. Beer cans in random spots, ashtrays full of butts, clothes on the floor... The entire space smells like cigarettes and that spicy scent she likes. 

Taking a few steps inside, she looks down at the bedside table off to the right and sucks in a sharp breath. Another ashtray, a pair of sunglasses, bullets, and a small unopened box of condoms with a thin layer of dust on them. Or ash. There’s no telling with him. On the floor is a bunch of music and car magazines including one with art on the cover of a strange man and a woman in a thong. 

She quickly steers away from that. Yep. There’s a lot she missed during the first visit. None of that was important then. It was supposed to be a one-time thing. Buy a tiny amount of drugs off him, get some sleep, and most likely never talk to each other again. Life wasn’t a big fan of those plans.

The walls are littered with posters, flyers, and pictures. A large homemade banner for his band hangs near the window. Light from outside filters through the old blinds, giving the room a warm glow with the lamps off. Straight ahead is a long white desk with drawers. Across the top are all kinds of random items. Music equipment, a guitar, tapes, bottles of cleaner, more magazines, cords, a …pepper shaker? And a loaf of bread on the floor?

‘Oh my God!’ 

There's a pair of handcuffs hanging next to the closet. Why is that there? Is he into something weird? She stares at them, barely registering him moving behind her. Too focused on the unusual objects in the room to notice. All of it together makes one point very clear. There’s still plenty she doesn’t know about this guy. 

“What’s up?” The voice suddenly cutting through the silence startles her. Whirling around, Eddie is standing barely a foot away with a change of clothes slung over his shoulder. Leaning over to see what she was checking out, his lips curl into an amused smirk. “So that’s what it is. Don’t worry. They’re not gonna jump off the hook to bite you.” 

“I wasn’t worried.” Chrissy mumbles, shifting her focus to a beer can on the dresser. “It surprised me to see them out in the open like that.” 

His brows shoot up as if something dawned on him. Now he appears even more entertained than before. “You know, those aren’t just for kinky stuff. They’re good for other things too. Like I used the chain to fix the sleeve on my jacket and the cuffs make for a sick belt buckle.” The bottom of his shirt is lifted to show what he’s talking about. 

“Oh.” She turns away, wanting to crawl into a hole at the furthest side of the trailer park. Wouldn’t most people assume those are for something risque rather than a fashion statement? “The more you know.”

“You’re so damn cute.” He ruffles her bangs teasingly. 

‘...Cute…’

It’s meant to be taken as a compliment. Any normal day, it’d send her soaring with joy. Not this time. That takes the wind right out of her sails. She groans, slightly deflating, and wobbles over to fall face-first onto the mattress. 

“Chrissy?” 

“I’m fine.” Her voice is muffled by his tan blanket. There’s no attempt to hide the obvious sulking. Crawling the rest of the way onto the bed, she spreads out and buries her face back in the covers. “Just let me lay here while you take your shower.” 

“Okay, I guess? This won’t take long so don’t disappear on me.” After a moment, he finally trudges out of the room to get cleaned up.  

“Darn it,” she whines, kicking her legs on the mattress. There’s the answer to that question. Eddie thinks she’s ‘cute’. That’s not so bad. Women can be cute. 

This is stupid. It hit a nerve after last night and this morning but what can she expect? Since they started hanging out, there have been countless times when she got flustered from the smallest things. Blushing at basically nothing and acting like a shy church girl around him instead of the high school senior who’s had her fair share of make-out sessions. Mostly with Jason but other boys have kissed her before that.

Sitting up on the side of the bed, Chrissy regards all the skulls, monsters, and band posters covering the walls. He’s an older guy with more life experience that's very different from her. A small part finds that intimidating yet exciting. 

It’s time to let go of the shame drilled into her from the beginning to finally have fun without stressing about what everyone thinks. Do things a normal high schooler would do. Make mistakes, enjoy life, and get a bit messy. Isn't that what growing up is about? Adults already stole her chance of having a carefree childhood. Now it should be her turn to run the show. 

"Not a fan of going off people’s word. I like to find out for myself. Would’ve missed out on a lot if I did."

She did and that sucks. It was never good enough anyway so who cares?

Chrissy goes to the handcuffs on the wall again. Eyeing them curiously, she pokes the cuff itself, watching as it taps against the chain and makes a clanging noise. Huh. Her finger runs along the cold metal, wondering how it feels to wear them. They look unforgiving and a little scary. Kind of like their owner before getting to know him. 

‘Does he only use these to add flair to his clothing?

Letting go, she pads across the carpet to peruse more stuff to keep busy. All of it screams ‘Eddie’. Of course he would have those kinds of things in his room. She arches a brow when glancing at the bedside table near the door. The box of condoms is missing. They were right by the ashtray. 

“There you are.” The corner of the light blue box is sticking out from beneath the table like it was haphazardly thrown there. Why does he do that? The same happened when they first talked in the stairwell. He kicked his monster book away as if that would change anything. She already saw it. 

What a silly guy. 

Something else catches her attention. Next to a thick cord rolled up on the floor are black pencils, books, and magazines scattered right under the side of the bed. Listening intently, the water is running in the next room. He’s still showering. She taps her foot and debates whether it’s wrong to take a peek. 

‘He said to make myself at home. Would he even care? Probably not.’

Grabbing the closest one, she sits on the edge of the mattress to sift through it. The front is entirely black. No words or anything. Is it a journal? Once she opens the cover, it becomes very apparent what this is. A sketchbook. She skims through the pages in astonishment. 

Eddie is a better artist than she originally thought. Each one is filled with his work. Some are funny doodles with crude jokes and curses. The others? Well, he’s definitely inspired by fantasy. Monsters, knights, blood and guts, skeletons, creatures, swords, magic. Along with a few recurring characters, possibly from a series or his own creation.

Chrissy pauses on a certain part that pops out. A scene that takes up two pages. The previous ones weren’t so big. She glosses over the drawing, taking in all the small details. The forest… Moon… Bats in the sky… The small fairies flying around… But it’s the woman in the picture that caused her to stop in the first place. 

‘Is that supposed to be me?’

That's ridiculous. The lady dancing beneath the moonlight is more elegant than she could ever hope to be. It feels arrogant to make the connection. The longer she stares at the image, the longer the list of similarities she finds between them becomes. Her hairstyle, facial features, and body frame are alike. In the upper left corner, he wrote ‘Chrisstania, Queen of the Faeries’.  

Nonsense. She quickly turns the page and continues. It doesn’t take long to find another drawing with the same person. The woman is leaning on a balcony, gazing off into the distance with a sad expression. It's gorgeous. A gasp rips through the quiet bedroom when she sees the clothing. 

“Oh God!” There’s no denying it. The character is wearing a nightgown with a very particular flower pattern in the fabric like the one Charlotte gave her as a birthday present. Of all the pieces, it stuck out to her the most because of the design. What are the chances he saw the same lingerie from a high-end boutique in Indianapolis? 

‘I don’t remember him going through that bag! It would’ve ended me.’

Flipping through the rest makes her face alarmingly red as more show up among the sea of dragons, devils, and fight scenes. Some are rough outlines but the nature of them is enough to get her to slam the book shut. It drops to the floor as she sits there lost in thought. 

Now the saying ‘curiosity killed the cat’ makes sense. This is punishment for being nosy. These drawings were probably never meant to be seen by anyone. This feels wrong for a multitude of reasons. 

‘Is that how he sees me?’

The beautiful woman in his artwork is so far removed from how she imagines herself. Thinking about it is strange. Perhaps that shows how skilled he is.

Eddie said in the van that he couldn’t unhear the awful things Jason said. Like that, there’s no unseeing these sketches. What’s done is done. It’s figuring out the right way to react that is an issue. Is it better to be flattered or mortified? At the moment, both are washing over her in gigantic waves. 

Clearly ‘cute’ isn’t the only thing on his mind. She yanks down her sleeve to fan herself off. There is no way that's ever getting brought up to him. It’ll go to the grave with her. If for some ungodly reason he mentions it, she’ll play dumb. 

Chrissy gets up to pace along the carpet, wringing her hands together nervously. Isn’t that sort of what she wanted? For him to see her as a woman and not some ditzy girl? Wish granted. Was that the only one? She crouches down to put the book back and tsks from seeing how much stuff is crammed under his bed—tons of magazines, books, art supplies, clothes, and rolled-up posters. 

‘What a hoarder!’

Just imagining trying to organize his things is enough to bring on a headache. Nope. Not in a million years. It’d be easier to burn down the trailer and start from scratch. Placing the book in its original spot, her eyes land on a magazine next to it. Similar to the others, there’s a barely dressed woman on the cover with a man who doesn’t appear entirely human. 

Not having learned her lesson, she snatches it up and flops down on the bed. These odd magazines are something he’s interested in. To be honest, she’s curious about what he's into. A frown passes over her lips at the noticeable pattern. Most of the female characters on these have a few things in common. They have large breasts, thin waists, wide hips, big butts, long legs, and flowing hair. 

Scouring the pages is both startling and demoralizing. Enough to knock the sketchbook out of the forefront of her mind. It seems this is some ongoing adult series that releases in parts along with articles and whatnot. There are small sections that are music-related but it’s filled with art of topless women or ones in sexy outfits, humanoid creatures, and men with weapons. All in provocative poses or situations. 

‘What is this, D&D porn?’

The main attraction doesn’t begin until a third of the way through. It starts where it presumably left off with a sidebar recapping the previous chapter. A scientist, Melissa, has been studying an alien lifeform that was brought to an isolated government lab in the mountains. Turns out the alien can shapeshift and has a higher level of intelligence than expected. And... things happen. 

Chrissy rolls over onto her stomach and spreads the magazine out on the blanket. She’s never seen anything like this. It’s totally different from the Playboy they found in Charlotte’s older brother’s bedroom a while ago. 

“Yeesh.” This is really weird. The scene shows Melissa flirting and taunting the alien floating in a large tank. Tork is an oddly muscular, almost human-looking creature with creepy appendages. But it’s when his tentacles slither over the side of the tank to tear off her blouse and glasses that she truly understands what this is. 

‘Oh! Oh my God. Eddie's a real pervert!'

Part of her wants to throw this on the floor and hightail it out of there. Just hop into the Corvette and take off, never to return. Maybe even rip the phone off the hook after getting home so no one can get through. And yet, the other side can’t look away from the black-and-white images dancing across her vision. It’s a shock to the system. 

‘...I don’t think that’s supposed to go there.’

“Ahem.”

Chrissy freezes when someone clears their throat. She was too engrossed in the story and forgot to keep an ear out for when the shower turned off. Now it’s too late. There’s no good explanation for this. 

Slowly turning towards him, her eyes shoot open in surprise. Eddie’s standing by the door with everything except a top on. “Took longer than expected and I, uh… forgot to grab a shirt.” He mutters, shrugging his shoulders. “Figured I might as well fulfill your wish to see the rest of my tats.” 

“Right. Yeah. Your tats.” It doesn’t seem like he noticed yet. She sits up on the covers and can't remember how to act normal anymore. The voice inside is screaming to stop being a big baby. Sure, he's a secret perv with a collection of nerd porn beneath his bed—along with a bunch of drawings of her—but that’s not a deal breaker. It could be worse. 

Swallowing hard, Chrissy crawls to the edge of the mattress and sluggishly makes her way to him. This is all so unreal. No wonder Charlotte called her a prude before. 

“How many do you have?” It unintentionally comes out as a whisper as she fights to keep a neutral expression. That same control doesn’t extend to her eyes. They apparently didn’t get their fill from earlier and try to shamelessly consume everything in sight. From the ripped jeans to the dark happy trail below his belly button and the smooth skin of his abdomen. 

‘Those bruises are worse. They usually are before fading away.

“Five and none of them are down there. Yet.” He chuckles, twisting a damp lock around his fingers. 

“Sorry, I—” Wait. It’s a lie. She isn't sorry. If those sketches are anything to go by, he enjoys looking at her too. Probably a lot. The pep talk she gave herself yesterday gets put on replay. Along with a small prayer to Brigitte for the courage and foresight needed to maneuver through this. “I can’t help it. You’re hot.” 

Eddie’s brows shoot up beneath his bangs as he tilts his head forward. He’s completely bewildered, and so is she. It slipped out. The room goes quiet while they gawk at each other. His tongue swipes along his bottom lip before an attempt is made to say something only for that to falter. 

‘That isn’t what I asked for Brigitte!’

A ringed finger is held up to signal he needs a moment. He marches into the hall, leaving her staring at the empty doorway. That could've been handled better. The guy just wanted to show off his tattoos. 

“Okay!” He comes back in after a minute and smacks his hands together. “Now, where were we? Oh, right.” Getting back in the same position, he leans down so he's at eye-level with her. “What?! Wanna run that by me one more time? You get into my stash or somethin’?”

Seriously? It’s like he’s offended to be called that. What an oddball. “No! I said what I said. I can’t help staring because I think you’re hot. Now let me see your tattoos.” She huffs and holds her head high, feeling emboldened by the color along his neck and chest. 

A hand loudly slaps against his sternum and he staggers backward, almost running into the bedside table. “Has the princess gone mad? I’m afraid so. She’s entirely bonkers—” 

“Eddie!” 

“Alright, alright. I’ll knock it off. So demanding.” Eddie says playfully, whisking himself back in front of her. “You know, I think I dig it when you’re being bossy. That’s pretty sexy. Don’t get me wrong, I’m into Bashful Chrissy too.” He bites the side of his lip from seeing how flushed she’s getting. “There she is.” 

‘...Pretty sexy…’

“Bashful Chrissy? You categorize me?” 

“Sorta. There’s Bashful Chrissy and Brazen Chrissy. I never know which one’s gonna jump out at me.”

“Do you have a preference?” Her gaze shifts from that shit-eating grin down to the chain around his neck with the black and red guitar pick hanging from it. It’s usually hidden beneath a shirt but that's not a problem at the moment.

“Nope. I, uh…” He trails off as she comes closer. Reaching out, her fingers gently take the pick and pull it forward to inspect it. Pretending to ignore the sharp intake from above. She inwardly celebrates when a shiver runs through him, causing goosebumps to spread across his skin. “I like them both. Equally. A lot.” 

The focus switches from the pick to the guy staring down at her. This time, his words aren't going in one ear and out the other. Chrissy tries to steady her breathing as the fluttering inside reaches a new height. She doesn’t remember anyone looking at her like that before. Not the way he is now. It’s almost enough to lose any nerve she has left. 

“Yeah, so my tats.” The subject is quickly changed without waiting for a response. Just moving right into the next thing. A long finger points to the tattoos on his right arm. “I’m sure you’ve already seen the bats and demon puppet already.”

“Mhm.” That completely threw her off. How can he put that out there then act like nothing happened? “What is that? A dragon?”

“It’s a wyvern. They’re similar. You could say they're cousins. I also got another demon and a black widow.” His hair is pushed aside to reveal the last two on the left side of his chest. 

"Ah!" Chrissy recoils at the sight. Her eyes narrow on the tattoo, unable to look away. A spider with long spindly legs and a thick body. 

“What? The demon creeping you out?” Eddie fidgets then folds his arms over his chest to block her view of the ink. He glances towards the corner of the room where the clothes basket sits. 

“I didn’t mean to act like that. I… I’m terrified of spiders. It’s super silly.” She offers meekly with a half-hearted laugh. Guilt fills her from seeing how discouraged he is now. It wasn’t intentional. Spiders are the problem, not his body. But that tattoo is part of his body. “Sorry, that startled me.”

“It’s cool. I get it. Just seems like my luck.” He sighs and goes to grab a shirt when she latches onto his wrist. That stops him. Watching the cheerleader curiously, he jolts when her other hand lightly swats at the tattoo. “Woah, woah! You can’t kill it, sweetheart. It’s a tat.” 

“I know. I’m trying to get used to it.” Staring hard at the image, a finger reaches out to hesitantly poke at the spider while reminding herself that it’s just a drawing. Basically. That makes things a little easier. If they’re going to continue whatever this is, then being afraid of something on him just won’t do. 

“You don’t have to push yourself. I can put a shirt on. No biggie.” 

“That’s a temporary fix.” The poking moves to touching. She slowly exhales and traces the outline of the tattoo with the tips of her fingers, repeating the mantra that this is only ink. He shouldn’t have to hide a part of himself to avoid freaking her out. 

“Do you still think I’m hot? Even with this?” Eddie snorts, turning his head away. That must’ve hit a nerve. Who could blame him? If the roles were reversed, she’d never want to come out shirtless again. Regardless of the reasoning behind it, that has to be an awful feeling. 

“Yes,” She says earnestly. Getting over her fears won’t be a simple task but it’s worth putting the time and effort in to try. For both of them. “Like you said, it’s just a tat. That won’t change anything.” Scrounging up any remnants of boldness lying around, she leans up to press her lips against the spider below his collarbone. Giving it a tiny peck. All while keeping her eyes squeezed shut to avoid seeing the creepy arachnid. 

‘His skin is so warm.’

“That’s great to hear.” A wide grin spreads across Eddie’s heated face. He slings an arm around her shoulders and pulls her closer, planting his own kiss on her forehead. “Glad you two are all chummy now but there’s some bad news. I still gotta put a shirt on. Not too big on giving the drunks of Forest Hills a free show.”  

Right. They’re supposed to take the Corvette for a ride. That slipped her mind. At least that brightened up the mood. He’s smirking and whistling a tune while searching for a top to sadly cover himself before they head out. 

‘He kissed me.’

A small, tender move that turned Chrissy’s insides into mush. Also saying he likes both sides of her. A lot. So does she. Maybe more than imagined. Enough to want to dig a tunnel under the walls she built up over the years just to crawl out of the fortress. He makes her feel good. Heard. Seen. And the drawings under his bed made it clear this wasn’t a simple crush. 

‘I forgot about the magazine on the bed!’

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she glances at his naked back hunched over the clothes basket. Would he be upset to find out the stash of freaky porn was found? Or laugh it off? It's hard to tell. He’s shameless in some ways and less so in others. There might not be another chance to finish the chapter after this. She climbs onto the bed in the same position as earlier to do just that. 

“What’s that you got there?” It didn’t even take three panels for him to speak up. Eddie is putting on a band shirt while tilting his head to get a peek over her shoulder. He isn't close enough for that and she’s blocking the view. 

“Oh. Your, um, monster porn.” 

“Mm.” He tugs the top down and grabs the black bandana off the floor to wrap around his head before freezing. “Wait… What did you say?” The slight panic in his voice makes her second guess if this was a good idea at all. 

She sits up on the bed and clutches the magazine to her chest when he comes around the side, staring wildly to confirm if the apparent nightmare scenario is now a reality. “I was bored and saw this poking out so I started reading it.” The color drains from his face as he takes a step back, letting the bandana fall to the carpet. 

“Holy shit.” Eddie breathes out, grabbing onto his messy hair. “And you… then did you… it was… that’s not—” This man is malfunctioning. Just bits and pieces of nonsense falling out into space, along with his mind. It takes a moment for him to regain any sense of composure. “That’s not ‘monster porn’! It’s called dark fantasy erotica.”

What’s the difference? Is he trying to make it sound less depraved than it actually is? “You mean nerd porn.”

A hand clutches the front of his shirt in shock like she shot him through the heart. “Tch! You have no respect for the fine arts. Hand it over.” 

“But Eddie. There are only a few pages left. I need to know what happens. Can’t you let me finish it really fast?” She puts on her best puppy-dog face while holding the magazine against her tightly. He can’t say no to this. There hasn’t been a time so far that he’s turned down any request she made. 

Eddie stares at her for what seems like an eternity. The embarrassment from a moment ago drifts away, steadily being replaced with acceptance now that this is out in the open. There’s no taking it back or pretending this isn’t his. “No friggin’ way.” An open hand is held out to her, fully expecting the item to be returned. 

‘What?! He’s never told me no before!’

Shocked and in utter disbelief, she shifts back against the mattress when he steps closer. Not fair. He secretly went through her lingerie but that can’t be brought up without revealing she knows about his sketchbook. “C’mon, princess.” 

The edge of the mattress sinks as he kneels on it. Slowly inching his way toward her. That’s not the most worrisome part. It’s the glint in those dark eyes and the playful smirk he’s attempting to hold back. This guy is up to something. His poker face is not up to par for once.

Chrissy springs off the bed and takes off, still clutching onto the magazine. Running right out of the bedroom and down the hall. “Hey!” He’s coming. There’s a loud noise from something getting knocked over by him crashing onto the kitchen floor. Neither care. The only place left in the trailer is the living room. That’s a dead end. 

No choice.

She bursts through the front door and down the steps, grinning ear to ear. Throwing back a glance, her eyes widen when he leaps down the entire set of steps and charges toward her. “Chrissy! Get that little ass back here!” 

“No!” Chrissy flees as if her life depends on it. She circles the Corvette and van with him hot on her tail. Holding onto his ‘dark fantasy erotica’ like it’s a treasure that needs to be protected at all costs. Going past the van a second time, she almost slips on gravel but quickly regains her footing and rushes past the trash cans to go around the trailer. 

This is a test of endurance. Eddie has longer legs and some other pros on his side, yet the cons should outweigh them. He's a smoker who doesn’t do a lot of physical activities. She’s short but doing cheerleading year-round means three practices a week with plenty of exercise. It’s moments like these that all those times Ms. Tina made them run the track and go to the weight room pay off. 

“You better pray I don’t catch you!” Despite that, he’s actually keeping up. Chrissy can hear the thin chain on his pants rattling against itself with each step. It’s impressive, though not enough to catch her. 

“As if!” She giggles and looks back with a big smile. Uh-oh. That seemed to give him an extra push. So much so that the tips of his fingers brush against her hoodie. Just a bit more and what he said might come true. 

‘I can’t let him beat me.’

Taking a sharp turn, she dashes out front again, hoping to put distance between them. Maybe even shake him off. That’s useless. This guy is so stubborn that he’d probably blow out a lung before giving up. 

“You’re gonna get it, I swear!” 

Something bright blue and yellow catches her attention as they run past the picnic table near the road. A redheaded teenager standing outside of the trailer across the way. Watching them chase each other with a bizarre expression. 

‘I’ve seen her before. Outside of Ms. Kelly’s. That girl probably thinks we’re idiots.’

No. That doesn’t matter. Right now, she’s having fun. And despite the ‘threats’, it’s clear from Eddie’s face that he’s enjoying this too. 

“Darn it.” Chrissy hisses to herself, trying to come up with a plan to lose him and finish the chapter. There’s not enough time to unlock the Corvette without getting caught. He likely knows some creative trick to open the doors anyway. 

As luck would have it, he’s slowing down from needing to catch his breath. This is her chance. Sprinting across the gravel, she takes the steps two at a time and heads back into the trailer. Locking the front door behind her. That should buy a couple of minutes. 

After hopping over the items scattered on the floor, a beeline is made for his room. The door is closed and she jumps on the bed, quickly opening the magazine to its last few pages. All while greedily sucking in as much air as possible. He wasn’t the only one running out of steam. 

‘Will they get exposed? Melissa is going to be in big trouble if they’re found out. The people in charge of the operation will probably separate them.’

“Hah!” The door swings open and slams into the wall behind it. Standing there is Eddie, a glistening mess of a man. “You forgot there’s a second door right out here. Too bad, sweetheart!”

“C–Crap!” Closing the magazine, she goes to bolt but is swiftly captured. It only took a few seconds. As soon as an attempt was made to lunge off the bed, a hefty weight landed on her legs, pinning her down in an uncomfortable position. Her upper body dangling down the side of the mattress with the rest being sat on by a sweaty metalhead. 

‘This is so embarrassing!’ 

He laughs triumphantly in between his heavy panting. “Gotcha. You sure are a slippery one. Give up the hostage now and I might be lenient with you.” 

“Never.” Chrissy searches for anything to hatch an escape plan with. There’s only a nightstand on one side and his largest amp on the other, and she’s smack dab in the middle of them. Both are just out of reach. The most she can do is try to shimmy out from under him. 

“Don’t bother. You’re stuck and I, uh, wouldn’t suggest doing that. It won’t help anything.” He’s right. She might as well be shaking her butt for him. At least it’s not in a skirt. “So Brazen Chrissy came out to play, huh? Maybe I should say Ballsy Chrissy instead. Or perhaps Pervert Chrissy? Never expected you to go through these. What a shocker. And you almost made it to the end, too. Such a shame.”

Ignoring his snicker and efforts to tease her into oblivion, she acknowledges this is how things are going. Eddie is really getting a kick out of it. There’s undoubtedly a huge smile on his face from how he sounds.

“...Are you listening to me?”

Well, since there’s nothing to do down here, she might as well finish the chapter. Even if she’s hanging upside down and blood is rushing to her head. There’s enough light coming in through the blinds to see the panels. 

‘Melissa is so gutsy. In the best-case scenario, she only loses her job. These military higher-ups usually execute people who know too much in these stories.’

The pressure on her legs alters as he leans forward to see what she’s doing after not hearing anything. “Christ, really?! Are you seriously reading that now? Right in front of me?” 

Smack!

“Ah!” Chrissy’s entire upper body lifts as she straightens out, becoming stiff as a board. Her eyes go wide and the magazine falls to the floor. Did he just…? That’s hard to believe but the hot sting from behind is very real. Nothing comes out when she attempts to say something, too startled to form a coherent sentence. And the culprit is no better. It’s like a statue is resting on the back of her knees.

“Fuck. I shouldn’t have done that. It was dumb as shit. I wasn’t thinking—” Eddie keeps carrying on and it’s lost in translation. 

Lowering herself back down, she stares at the open pages on the carpet. Focusing on the dirty images while trying and failing to make sense of how she’s feeling. Barely hearing his words. It sounds overly remorseful and panicked to her ears like she’s about to storm off and never speak to him again if he doesn’t repent properly. 

“—even after all that. I’m a stupid asshole.” There he goes calling himself names once more. Maybe he acted without thinking. It happens. 

“Do it again.” 

“Huh?!” 

Reaching down, the magazine's snatched off the carpet and back in her possession. "You said I better pray you don't catch me. Why? Because you were going to give me a chance to finish this? If that was the case, I should've given up from the start."

"Oh. That's it." A moment goes by with both staying quiet. Only heavy breaths take up the space their words should fill. He's thinking about it. She can feel his weight shift as he stares down at her from above. "Are you sure?" Not entirely but she nods anyway. "If that's what you want, then… I'll do it."

"Just don't go crazy with it, okay? I'm a little nervous."

'Maybe this is another dream. I can't believe this is happening. None of it feels real anymore.'

"I won't. Promise."

Chapter Text

“Have you done this before?”

“Kind of? Most girls at school probably have. Guys run by and do it.” The jocks are the usual culprits. That hasn’t happened since junior year though. They like trying to get away with it during football season in the fall when the cheerleaders are cold and less likely to chase them down. 

Eddie is quiet for a moment. All she can hear is his heavy breathing. At least in a different position, it might be easier to see his face. “That and spanking are not the same.”

“No?” That doesn’t make much sense to her. Is this like his ‘dark fantasy erotica is not monster porn’ argument from earlier? 

“Hell no. One is some creep tryin’ to get a free feel and the other isn’t. It’s more… Well, you’ll be able to tell. Do you trust me?”

These questions are making her more nervous. She thought he’d just go for it again. Is this normal? “I do.” 

The last time anything like this happened was at a Halloween party. When Jason had one too many beers and slapped her butt after she got off a couch to get him another bottle. It hurt enough to almost make her knees buckle. Not that he remembered it that way later on. And with so many people around, she forced herself to laugh it off as a ‘boys will be boys’ moment. 

“Good. That’s the most important part. If both sides don’t trust each other, things can go to shit real fast. So, I guess we’re using the traffic light system. Seems easiest. You already know ‘red’ means stop. ‘Yellow’ is slow down, like if it’s a little too hard and you want me to take it down a notch. Saying ‘green’ a million times seems pointless, so yeah. Cool with that?”

“Mhm.” 

Chrissy jerks when the tips of his fingers graze the spot that was already hit. A soft caress over the tight black fabric as he slowly gets more comfortable and eases both of them into this. It goes from a light touch with his fingers to pressing his splayed hand along her backside, slowly moving it around. Massaging the place that still stings.

‘Wow. Just one hand covers my entire cheek.’

She lets out a shaky breath, trying to calm herself down. This is insane. Waking up this morning, it was easy to assume the day would be lax and uneventful. Do some reading, cook a little, maybe go hang out with Natalie or something. Getting spanked in Eddie’s trailer after finding his collection of monster porn was never a scenario she could’ve ever imagined. That sounds like a game of mad libs gone terribly wrong. 

This is happening. It isn’t some dream taking a crazy turn. The warm palm on her bottom is very real. And it feels good, especially when he adds more pressure, kneading the tense muscles firmly. His other hand does the same for the left side. The magazine slips right out of her grasp and falls to the floor. Totally forgotten. That doesn’t matter anymore. 

The cheerleader melts under his touch as the tension in her body gradually fades away. She knew it. There’s magic in those hands. He wasn’t joking when he said they’re good for lots of things. Her upper half hangs limply down the side of the bed, no longer having the strength to do much else. If this comes with the whole spanking thing, then maybe she found a new hobby. 

“Jesus Christ. I can’t fucking believe this.” Eddie mutters to himself, almost too quietly to hear. He sits up a little, shifting most of the weight to his knees planted on the mattress. It’s a relief. The heavy pressure from him straddling her isn’t so bad now. Unfortunately, the massage also stops. His cupped hands softly pat her cheeks, like he’s working out how to get the best angle. “Okay. That should be good.” 

Smack!

Chrissy loudly gasps when the first hit lands. More from surprise than anything. Both hands quickly cover her mouth to stop anything else from escaping. She inhales sharply through her nose as he rubs the spot again. There wasn’t much force behind it. Nothing like the initial one that started all this. 

“You good? It didn’t hurt, right?” 

“I’m fine. You can keep going. ‘Green’, or whatever.” 

“Okay, okay. I got you.” 

Smack!

“Mm!” A shiver runs through her body when his hand comes down harder on the same spot, setting the dull sting ablaze. He freezes for a minute and she can feel his legs stiffening up. It doesn’t last long before shaking it off, going back to kneading the tender flesh with his palm. 

‘I must be losing it.’

She attempts to keep the sounds clawing their way up her throat at bay with the next few swings. Each one has a little more pressure added to it as he alternates sides, avoiding hitting the same place too many times now. And always massaging it before continuing. Doing his best to soothe the burn, only to make it flare up again seconds later. She can’t help tensing up with anticipation from not knowing when it’s coming, but he waits until her muscles relax to have another go at it. 

Smack!

“Ah!” The hands covering her mouth shoot out to grab the elastic band on his sheet instead, needing something to hold on to. She sucks in a greedy breath from not getting enough through her nose. It’s too hot in here. The air is too thin. Hanging upside down isn’t helping. Blood is rushing to her head, making it seem extremely light and heavy at the same time. There’s no doubt her face is as red as the Corvette out front. 

Eddie delivers a smack that sets Chrissy on fire. It’s raging across her backside and begins to travel, settling into her gut. She squirms beneath him, ignoring how her abdomen tightens to the point it’s painful. Or the toes curling in her pristine white sneakers laying across the bed. Or the beads of sweat running into her bangs. 

He was right to call her a freak in the forest the first time they hung out. 

This isn’t something she could ever dream of doing, let alone enjoying. No way. The sweet captain of the cheer team is getting a rush from being spanked? By Eddie ‘the freak’ at that? An hour ago, she might’ve died from overheating at the thought. Right now, the shyness that gets in the way all the time is taking a backseat on this one. The other sensations coursing through her are drowning it out, refusing to be deterred in their quest to explore uncharted territory. 

“Now that you’re warmed up, it’s time to pay for your crimes, princess. The atrocities committed today cannot go unpunished. Unfortunately for you, I’m judge, jury, and executioner in this land.” His voice is deep and thick. Strained. That sends a fresh wave of excitement through her as he goes back to putting out the flame he created. “I’ve already found you guilty on all counts. First and foremost is the felony charge for possession of a nice ass.” 

‘What is he going on about?’

“I’ll run down the list of your evil deeds.” Smack. “Stealing my belongings.” Smack. “Daring to call it monster porn.” Smack. “Running away with the stolen goods.” Smack. “Making me run around after getting out of the shower.” Smack. “And after feeding me all that food.” Smack. 

The room is spinning from becoming too lightheaded. They shouldn’t have done it like this. Not in this position. She’s numb to the hits now. Those are an afterthought compared to trying to force air back into her lungs. 

“R–Red!” It sounds far more like a desperate plea than intended. The hands delivering corporal punishment quickly abandon their job in order to pull her up onto the bed. All the posters and equipment become a whirlwind of colors as her head lulls back and forth. Far too dizzy to make sense of anything. 

“Woah! Hey, you okay? Did I go overboard?” Eddie sounds a little panicked when he tries to sit her up and she teeters, almost falling over onto the covers. He moves fast to help steady her, letting her use him to regain some sense of balance. 

“Need a minute.” Chrissy sighs with relief after dropping forward against something warm and solid. His chest. She keeps her eyes closed and takes deep breaths, waiting for the merry-go-round ride to stop. “I… I’m just lightheaded from laying like that.” 

“Crap! I’m such a goddamn moron.” He slaps his forehead, groaning in frustration at himself. “Why the hell didn’t I think of that? Like, no shit that was gonna happen. What an idiot.”

She finally opens her eyes, focusing on the image across his faded red band shirt. It says ‘W.A.S.P.’ in dark lettering and has a guy holding two skulls with blood dripping from them. Well, at least things are mostly back to normal. Her ‘nice ass’ is a different story. Sitting might be uncomfortable for a while with how sore it currently is. And hot. Ridiculously hot. 

“No, you’re not. You shouldn’t say that about yourself. Besides, I kept my mouth shut, so I guess that makes me an idiot, too.” Maybe they’re both dumdums. That would explain a lot. 

It’s difficult but she forces herself to look up at him. Somehow, the guy is worse off now than when he burst through the bedroom door. Her eyes flicker to the trickle of sweat slowly trailing along his temple. The once-damp waves became a wild mess of curls and frizz from romping around.

“Fine. I won’t. You okay now?” He tilts his head to the side, inspecting her. 

“I think? I feel cold for some reason.” She shivers and crosses her arms. ‘Red’ should’ve been yelled out sooner but it just wouldn’t come out. 

Eddie leans across the mattress to grab something by his pillow. A throw bunched up at the top of the bed that she didn’t notice before. He drags it over and drapes the small blanket across her shoulders, wrapping it around snuggly. “Both times you came over you ended up in a throw cocoon.” That makes him chuckle as he pulls her closer, trying to warm her up. 

It’s working. Between the cozy blanket, the hands rubbing along her arms and back, and being this close to a human volcano, she’s beyond thawed out. That’s not even an issue anymore. Larger ones are cutting the line and leaping right in front of it. 

“So, uh… Did you like that?” 

The big question. Did she actually like getting spanked? The pulsing, sensitive skin on her backside says hell no. Cursing both of them with words she’d never utter in front of another soul. But it’d be a huge lie to say that was terrible. All the signs were there. She enjoyed him touching her. There’s a sliver of shame simmering on the inside over it that’s being pushed to the back burner. 

‘Don’t get in my way.’ 

“Yeah, though I feel like I’m not supposed to. I probably would’ve enjoyed it more if we were sitting differently.”

“I’ll make a note of that. I mean, if you ever want to do that again… I could bend you over my knee next time. You know, when Frisky Chrissy misbehaves.” His eyes light up at the prospect and she can almost see him imagining it from the look in them.

“Frisky Chrissy? You can’t settle on one, huh?” She giggles and slips a hand from under the throw to lightly slap his chest.

“Nah. Kinda your fault, though. As soon as I do, you pull some shit that sends me right back to the drawing board.” He reaches up to grab a stray lock by her ear, twirling it around his finger. It’s just now that she realized the rings are missing. They must’ve come off after their little scuffle. “Not that I’m complaining. I like getting to see different sides of you.” 

“Well, what do you think of them… a, um…” Chrissy falters when he abandons the bundle of hair to cup her face. She peers up at him and finishing the sentence no longer matters. He’s giving her that look again. 

“What do I think? I think I… like everything I see. All of it.” Eddie says quietly, dragging his gaze over to the hand on her cheek. It’s warm and rough—like him. A soft sigh slips out as she leans into his palm, hanging on every word being said. “I think I’m really screwed.” 

A line was already crossed. Going back to simply being friends probably isn’t an option anymore. She can feel it in her bones. Hear it in his voice. See it on his face. They keep tiptoeing around the obvious. Dropping subtle hints here and there or making the smallest moves, like a peck. Neither really taking the plunge. 

That might change today. 

The tip of his thumb brushes across her bottom lip, carefully tracing the soft curves. He stares at it intently and moves closer. This is the point of no return. She knows it and forces herself to stay still, afraid any sudden movement will cause him to back off. Stopping just a few inches away, he hesitates for one agonizing moment. His eyes shift to hers, searching for an answer to the question floating in the air between them and lighting up at what is on full display. 

The butterflies down below burst through their cage and find a new home in her chest, fluttering around wildly when he finally leans in, pressing his lips against hers. It’s gentle and sweet and ends far too quickly. Pulling back slightly, there’s a brief pause as he glosses over Chrissy’s face, trying to gauge her reaction. There’s uncertainty in his expression, as if half expecting to be pushed away or swatted at. 

“Green. Again. Do that again, Eddie.” Her voice sounds too eager to come from such a mousey person. But that does the trick. The corner of his mouth quirks up and whatever doubts were there disappear. He doesn’t waver this time, swiftly swooping in for another. 

She joins in enthusiastically, getting a thrill of excitement that he’s the one to initiate this. The first few attempts are messy. It’s clear any prior experience won’t be of much use with him. They quickly figure out how they fit together, finding themselves on the same wavelength. 

Unbelievable. Her imagination didn’t do him justice. Those lips are warmer, softer, and fuller than her naïve stare picked up on when they laid in bed together. And it took very little for him to fall in step with her. This man is a musician. Finding the right tempo and rhythm is part of what he does. 

Eddie deepens the kiss, pushing forward fervently as his hands snake around her. One slides down to rest on the small of her back and the other deftly pulls out the large blue scrunchie, releasing the sea of strawberry blonde locks from their confines. The hair tie falls to the covers to be forgotten while his fingers knot themselves in the silky strands, gathering a fistful of it to hold onto.

The arms embracing her tilt her backward and she willingly goes along with it, letting them hold her up above the mattress. It should be alarming how little she cares about what might happen next. Right now, none of that matters. The constant stream of frenetic noises upstairs falls silent as she relaxes, allowing herself to get completely immersed in the moment. 

This is exhilarating. For once, everything going on is the result of choices she made. It’s not out of peer pressure or to satisfy others' expectations. If anything, it’s the complete opposite. An act of rebellion. Just doing exactly as she wants with someone she chose, regardless of the consequences. 

That drives Chrissy to kiss him harder, dropping the throw to run her hands over his chest. Reveling in the heat radiating from him and how his muscles jump wherever she touches. The wild pounding beneath the surface sends her reeling. He’s so excited. Out of curiosity, she cracks a lid to catch a glimpse. 

‘Oh!’

Her heart stutters. It might give out at any second. Who knows what she was actually expecting but it wasn’t this. Eddie looks like he’s caught somewhere between pain and pleasure. Brows knit together tightly, nostrils flared, and eyes squeezed shut. His face twisted in blissful agony. Like the sketchbook, it feels almost too personal to let her gaze linger for more than a few seconds. 

In a strange way, she can’t help finding him beautiful. That word is all that comes to mind while he’s like this and that makes it even more enticing. Her hands skim over his shoulders to clasp the nape of his neck, using it as leverage to pull herself closer, pressing right up against him.  

She’s not sure what the hell has gotten into her. Perhaps the prayer from earlier went out into the atmosphere and all the sexy, confident women out there responded at once. Giving their blessing and an aggressive push to go for it. To each other’s surprise, Chrissy captures his bottom lip, giving it a little tug. His eyes shoot open with a gasp, only to become more startled when she sucks on it, letting out a soft moan against his mouth that reverberates through the both of them. 

‘More.’

He jolts, shivering for the second time today. The shaky hands still holding her tighten to the point she thinks she’ll burst into a million pieces. “S–Shit…” That finally breaks it. Pulling back, he stares down at her wildly, trying to regain control of his ragged breathing. “Jesus Christ, Chrissy. You’re killing me.”

No response. She keeps watching him while taking in small puffs of air to calm down. Did that really happen? Oh, God… It’s like suddenly coming to her senses after being under a powerful spell. An enchantment that was close to letting loose some starving animal from deep inside. One that was leaning back on its haunches and swishing its tail, getting ready to pounce. Ending the kiss slammed the cage door on it before anything got out of control. 

Chrissy shifts around uncomfortably, feeling hot and agitated after that. Everything is pulsing the same way her backside did when he spanked it. That’s what caused all this. Him and those wicked hands. 

He appears worse off by comparison. A total mess. Sweating bullets and still winded. He tears his gaze away from her face to stare at something across the room. His pupils are so dilated that she can barely see those dark brown irises anymore. “Hah.” A thin brow arches at the breathy chuckle, wondering what’s funny. After a moment, she’s lifted back up and set down on the covers as he unravels himself from her. 

“What?” The ruckus above returns with a vengeance. A million thoughts ricochet off the walls of her mind at turbo speed. Is she not a good kisser? Did it suck?

“Nothin’. It’s just that we, uh, went out of order.” There’s a crack in his voice towards the end. Grabbing onto the sleeve of her jacket, she tugs on the light blue fabric while observing him carefully. Watching as he sucks in the kiss-swollen bottom lip she nibbled on, dragging his teeth over it. “Figures.”

“Out of order?” 

“Kissing usually comes before spanking but whatever. Just thought it was kinda funny. Sounds about right for us.” He runs a hand over his face and into his wild hair, still not looking at her. “So, yeah. Give me a few minutes then we can go on that ride.” 

She gapes in surprise as he awkwardly gets off the bed and rushes out of the room. A second later, she hears the bathroom door slam shut and the sink turn on. Wide blue eyes stare at the open doorway, not knowing what the heck to make of that. 

‘Why did he run off like that? Did I do something wrong?’

He is super sweaty. That hair is out of control, too. He probably wants to cool off and rinse his face before they head out. That’s what she settles on to avoid beating herself up. 

“I can’t believe I did that.” She whispers to herself in disbelief. Now that he’s gone and there’s time to think, it’s sinking in. The tips of her fingers gently brush over her lips. They really did that. Both hands cover her flushed face as she squeals, flinging herself against the mattress. 

‘Hussy! Super hussy!’

Diving right in, latching onto him, pressing her chest up against his… And that wasn’t enough. She wanted more. More of what is the real question. Would kissing a bit longer satisfy the urge? He put a stop to it so they didn’t find out. 

She tosses the throw over herself and flops down to bury her face into his pillow. All of it smells like him. Naturally. It’s comforting. Something she needs right now. Closing her eyes, she snuggles up with it, breathing in the heady scent surrounding her. 

“Mmm…” Chrissy curls up under the small blanket, melting into the bed. Every second of it was great. Liberating. Enlightening. Sent her soaring above the clouds. The freest she’s ever felt. Totally different from the ones before. 

People were right about him. He is trouble. The best kind. 

‘Trouble is taking a while. Is he giving himself a bath in the sink?’

At least ten minutes pass before the bathroom door opens. Hearing feet shuffling across the carpet, she rolls over and sees him standing in the doorway, staring at her. Not saying anything. When they make eye contact, his gaze darts away only to come right back. 

‘What’s with that guilty expression? He looks like a naughty dog waiting for his owner to find out he chewed up her new pumps.’

Sucking in his lips, he strides over to the abandoned bandana on the floor and snatches it up. It dropped when realizing what she was reading. He makes quick work of the black cloth with white skulls, covering the top of his head and tying it in the back. 

What, is he going to make things weird now? Isn’t that her job? She dips under the throw and slithers over to the edge of the bed to pick up the magazine off the carpet. How funny. This is what gave them the push to take a step forward. Monster porn. Like he said earlier, figures. 

“Here’s your magazine. Sorry for going through your stuff.” She says softly and holds it out, hoping this might patch things up a bit. The awkward silence is not sitting well with her. That’s when unwanted thoughts begin making the rounds. 

Eddie takes it from her, finally getting the so-called ‘hostage’ back. Glancing at the cover, he does a lip trill then flings it over his shoulder. The magazine flies through the air, landing on the long white desk and knocking some items off the side. “It’s all good. Do they bother you?”

She’s not sure what to be more taken aback by. His rough treatment of the magazine he chased her all around the trailer for or him even asking that. “It’s really none of my business what you have in your room… or do. It doesn’t matter.” His blank stare at the response causes her to raise a brow. Was he expecting more? “I do think you’re a huge pervert, though.” 

“Hey, now! At least I have taste.” Stomping over to the desk, he grabs the magazine and holds it up, tapping the cover with a ringed finger. “These actually have a plot, character development, and no one gets exploited for them like the mainstream bullshit. It’s not just monster po—erotica, either.”

“I see. So it’s ethical porn consumption with a mix of other things you like.” 

“You got it, sweetheart. That’s only one part of it though.” He flips through the pages with a little smirk until finding a particular section. “You’re not gonna find anything like this in Hustler.” A double-page spread from the chapter is hoisted up gleefully and she wants to die. The image of what happened after Tork said screw it and escaped out of the tank that’s supposed to keep him contained. 

“Eddie!” So much for him being embarrassed. He’s holding the artwork of Melissa being ‘restrained’ in midair like it’s some kind of prize to show off. It didn’t take long for this guy to become shameless again. “Of course not. They’d need a lot of money and an amazing special effects team to pull any of that off.”

‘What the heck am I saying? That’ll only encourage him.’

“Damn right it would. And why do all that when something better can be made with ink? If folks legit tried this, it’d look so goofy. Hard pass.” He snorts, tossing the magazine back onto the desk. “Besides, I’m not crazy about the real stuff, if you catch my drift. Just doesn’t do it for me. My tastes have evolved.” 

“Real stuff? So you’re not into Playboys or those porno tapes?” Why are they still talking about this? The whole situation is making her feel off, but Chrissy is genuinely curious. She’s intrigued by his interests and he seems cool with indulging her. 

“Nah. Those are expensive and get boring after a while. And don’t get me started on pornos. They’re a lot of the same, only with shitty acting and a funk track playing in the background. That’s not for me. I need a storyline. Decent dialogue. Compelling characters with at least some friggin’ chemistry. Also the artwork... Eh, whatever. You get what I’m saying. There’s more to it.”

“How did you get into them? I didn’t know there were things like that.”

“Long story short: Dom. Dude’s always gotta ton of magazines behind the bar, mostly Heavy Metal. The problem is that there’s a big chunk of time between each issue, so I spread my wings and found other series like this bad boy.” He motions to the abandoned magazine hanging partway off the side. “Usually find ‘em through word of mouth. If you liked that, you might dig this one gem I got my hands on a while ago. It’s a dark fantasy collection by chicks for chicks.” 

“Why do you have that?” A small smile breaks out from this unexpected turn. She didn’t think he’d be so willing to talk about his magazines after that initial reaction earlier. Yet here he is, making recommendations. 

“Oh, uh,” Eddie leans back against the desk and crosses his arms. “Back then I wanted to see what the ladies were into. Thought that might help. Figured it’s better to get it straight from the source than other dudes. Just made more sense to me.”

“It does.” She slowly nods, pulling the throw tighter around her. “Then it’s like how you tried to grow a shag rug on your chest. I’m surprised by the effort you put in to impress girls.” 

“No–Not exactly. Girl, singular. There was only one person I was tryin’ to impress with all that stupid crap. A chick I kinda had a crush on back in middle school… and, ah, most of high school.” He tilts his chin down, looking at something on the carpet. “I mean, it wasn’t anything wild. Just a little thing that popped up here and there. Didn’t work anyway.”  

Of all the times they’ve hung out, she doesn’t remember him opening up about that part of himself. The most she got was the shaving bit. This guy hasn’t mentioned any exes or crushes or anything specific. Unlike her, who’s very recent dating history has been shoved in their faces. For him, literally. He’s still banged up from it. 

“Why not?”

“Dunno.” A hand reaches up to scratch the side of his mouth. He lets out a deep sigh before those warm brown eyes make their way back to her. “Guess I didn’t show up on her radar. She was into other dudes. You know, guys that aren’t like me. Probably wasn’t her type.” 

‘I feel sorry for him. Reminds me of Konstantin.’

“That really sucks.” She follows up with a sigh of her own. “I sort of know how that feels.” 

Eddie’s brows shoot up as he stares at her incredulously, craning his head forward. “Do you now?” Each word drips with skepticism and that irks her a little. Does he honestly think she never liked someone who didn’t return those feelings? That happens to everyone at one point in their life, right?

“Well, yeah. Plenty of people go through that.” Chrissy shrugs, moving to cross her legs on the mattress. “I had a crush on a guy that started in middle school and went on for a while. He was older, so we weren’t in the same grade. I even changed my clothes and hairstyle to get his attention.” She chuckles and shakes her head. It wasn’t only her. Other girls went gaga over him, too.

He falls silent. She watches him intently, patiently waiting for some kind of reaction after that. Instead, he squeezes his arms tighter against himself and begins pacing across the carpet. Her eyes follow along with the movements, trying to figure out what’s going on in that head before he stops. “...An older guy?” 

“Yeah.” 

He nods and resumes walking back and forth. Is this some little game to guess who it is? She’d be shocked if he didn’t have the slightest clue. A lot of girls had a thing for that guy before he graduated. It’s not a secret. “Do I know him?”

“Mhm.”

That response causes him to freeze right in front of the bed. He fidgets then rubs his chest, letting out a deep breath. “Who?”

Chrissy stares at him as something finally dawns on her. It’s too late now and she doesn’t want to lie. That might be more cruel than being honest. “Steve Harrington.” She’s never seen a person’s face drop so quickly. His eyes pop open and jaw goes slack, staying like that for an uncomfortable amount of time. 

‘Oh no! I think he thought I was talking about him. Now I feel terrible. I’m such an idiot!’

To her horror, Eddie tips and falls over, slamming into the floor with a loud bang. He didn’t even attempt to brace himself. “Eddie!” Tossing the throw away, she scrambles to the edge of the mattress to rush over to him. She drops to her knees beside the stiff body lying face–down, totally motionless. “Are you okay?! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Go ahead, Chrissy. Step on me. Spit on me. It’d be hell of a lot kinder.” He groans, voice muffled by the carpet. The guilt only increases from this sad display. When they met up in the woods, they already went over that she didn’t realize he was the same boy from the talent show. That wasn’t a lie. So how could he possibly be her crush all these years? 

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you.” Chrissy says gently, brushing the dark hair sticking out beneath the black cloth.

“Harrington? Really?!” She jumps back when he suddenly shoots up and adjusts the skull bandana, scoffing in annoyance. “Of course it’s Steve fucking Harrington. Every chick wants that guy. Rich, good-looking, popular… A huge jerk.” 

“That’s not true! He’s always been nice to me. And so what? That was forever ago. I only brought it up to make you feel better. Like, to relate.” The look on his face almost makes her burst out laughing. She pushes it down, not wanting to upset him even further. “Okay, then tell me who you were talking about so I can have a super dramatic reaction, too.”

“Uh,” That changes the mood instantly. Eddie whips his head away and exhales deeply, glancing at the posters on the wall. Almost as if looking for something. “T–Tammy Thompson.” As soon as it comes out, he winces and pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“No way! For real?” She wasn’t sure what name would get tossed out but that one is a shocker. “I never would’ve guessed that. You’re both into music, so I can kind of see it.” 

“You know what? None of that matters. Screw it. We’re going into the past. That was then, this is now. Right?” This conversation is visibly bothering him. From his body language and tone, he wants nothing more than to drop it completely. She hums in agreement. “So, I’m ready whenever you are. Let’s go take that beast on a rampage.” Hopping to his feet, he holds his hand out to help her up off the floor. 

“Okay, but you’re driving.”

“You sure about that?” From a logical standpoint, it’s a terrible idea. No person with any sense of self-preservation would allow this man behind the wheel of their car after seeing him in action. “I mean, I’m totally down. I just wanna make sure you’re one hundred percent certain.”

“I trust you. Besides, you promised last night that you would try not to almost kill us again.” Maybe this is really stupid, but he’s been driving that van around like a maniac for a while and hasn’t totaled it so far. That takes some amount of control and skill. “I’m putting my life in your hands.” She pulls on the front of the white tee to fish out the keys in her bra before tossing them to him. 

He quickly snatches the set in the air. Holding the keys up, he leans in close and glares at them. “Lucky little shits.” She laughs as they get shoved into a pocket before he grabs the aviator sunglasses off the bedside table. “Let’s hit the road hot stuff.”

‘Nice. She’s actually loving this.’

Eddie’s eyes dart to the rearview mirror that’s turned to the side just enough to steal a glance at the person sitting in the passenger’s seat. It lasts only a few seconds before shifting right back. This time, his wandering gaze could actually get them killed. Nope. Not today. Screw that. 

But…

Chrissy looks blissfully happy. Just beaming while leaning out the window as they take off down the highway. Letting the wind whip her loose hair every which way and reaching out as far as the seat belt will allow to feel the air rushing by. If he wasn’t wearing sunglasses, the bright rays coming off of her might’ve blinded him. 

He presses his foot down further on the gas pedal, grinning from hearing her giggle excitedly when they go faster. Little speed demoness. Most people lose their shit over his driving. Clinging onto anything in reach and bitchin’ up a storm. She’s getting a kick out of it right now. Egging him on to keep going while he weaves in and out of the lanes, quickly passing other cars in their way. 

This Corvette is really something else. No wonder folks will spend top dollar for it. He never imagined getting the chance to take one of these for a spin. After all, who in their right mind would let him? Especially with how fast it is? It couldn’t be any more different from his ol’ clunker. The lightest touch is all it takes for this thing to go flying. 

Metallica’s ‘Ride the Lightening’ plays at a deafening volume and adrenaline surges through his veins. He imagines this is what it’s like to be a rock star offstage. Getting to drive a fancy sports car with a hot chick next to him. Sneaking another peek, she’s turned around and hanging partway out the window. Ballsy Chrissy is having the time of her life. 

Dammit. It’s right there. Her ass is sticking out and within arm’s reach. So perky and supple. So biteable. He salutes whoever made those leggings. They have his eternal gratitude.

‘Down, boy.’

His eyes reluctantly tear away from the little heart-shaped backside gently swaying to the music. No. These bastards need to focus on the road. There will be more chances to stare at her ass later, but not if they get into an accident. Besides, he got a chance to touch it earlier. And when Chrissy hopped into the car, she winced after sitting down. That made him feel like shit. It wasn’t supposed to hurt her.

That was the whole point of using the traffic light system. Despite what was going on, he at least had the sense to keep certain things in mind. The conversation between her and Carver told him they had major issues with communication and boundaries. A perfect recipe for disaster. 

From what he understands, BDSM is all about that stuff. It only made sense to use what works. Laying it out and putting the kill switch in her hands. 

“I can’t help it. You’re hot.”

Eddie is glad she’s cool with the music blasting like this. It covers up the sighs and shaky breaths. He’s sure of it now. Chrissy Cunningham is hellbent on sending him to an early grave. Either that or he actually died last night and this is some kind of ruse before the real punishment begins. That would be his luck. Well, if Dave Mustaine or Kirk Hammett comes out of the woodworks wanting a jam session, then it’s clear he’s totally fucked. 

‘I’m fucked regardless.’ 

The tip of his tongue slowly traces his bottom lip as the next song comes on. Ozzy’s ‘Shot in the Dark’. It’s wild. This chick has him in a tizzy and things are not going as imagined. He’s really diggin’ it. Just thinking about earlier is making his heart race again. The jitters still haven’t completely worn off. 

There was nothing he could’ve done to prepare himself for any of that. Her kissing his tat. Reading his erotica. Chasing her around the trailer. The taunts and teasing. Or her turning off shy mode and trying to maul him. That was so damn hot. 

Maybe too hot.

Nothing will make it clearer to a dude that he’s touch-starved like getting so wound up from a little smooch. Pathetic. Weak sauce. All it took was seeing how Chrissy was staring at him after hopping out of the shower to get his blood pumping. And what she said? Everything went straight to hell after that. 

Wanting to be spanked, kissing him back so eagerly, biting his lip, that noise she made… Yeah, Eddie had to jump ship before embarrassing himself. If it can be helped, he really doesn’t want to screw up this thing going on between them. It’s not a stretch to imagine their sudden make-out session could’ve turned into something else. The princess seemed more than game from the way she was climbing him like a tree. 

Saying he doesn’t want her that way would be the biggest lie in human history. Those ideas pop up pretty often. It’s a pain sometimes. Literally. Blue balls are a real bitch. Still, not messing this up means having to think things through. Aside from some crappy thoughts gnawing at him, doing that wouldn’t have ended well from how riled up he was.

After what went down, all she had to do was grab his junk and he would’ve blown the roof off the trailer. Just explode right then and there like a goddamn loser. Then what? He’d rather let the Douche Brigade beat him with shovels than have Chrissy think he’s some two-pump chump that’s good for nothing. Of course, she’d probably smile sweetly and tell him it’s okay, which would only make him feel worse. 

That needs to be fixed. It was bad enough leaving her high and dry earlier to take care of himself in the bathroom. An impromptu date with Mary Palmer and her five sisters. That can’t happen again. Wasn’t even the first time skeddadling to go clear his head. The same shit happened last Saturday. So friggin’ embarrassing. There’s probably many rounds of hand to gland combat coming his way in the very near future. Hopefully, that’ll help build up a tolerance toward her. If they’re gonna continue this, he can’t go bursting at the seams before the curtains even open. 

‘She’s driving me crazy.’

“My turn next!” Chrissy yells over the music. Giving a fair forewarning before popping the cassette out. He got his four songs and now they’re switching. She flips the mixtape around to A side and a few seconds later, ‘I Ran’ from A Flock of Seagulls starts playing. 

“I walked along the avenue… I never thought I'd meet a girl like you… Meet a girl like you.”

She smiles brightly and shimmies along to the beat, thoroughly enjoying herself. This chick isn’t the only one. He’s captivated by what’s been happening in front of him. Getting to see her opening up more and having fun is a real sight to behold. The change is noticeable. She’s a blossom slowly blooming just in time for spring and he’s the lucky person given the chance to witness it. 

‘Yep. I’m screwed. Had to open my big mouth in the room, too. Oh well. Worked out in the end, I guess.’

Someone honking like crazy breaks that train of thought. Doing a quick glance out the driver’s side window, his brow furrows seeing a car riding alongside them that keeps blasting the horn. They’re coming a little too close. Even Chrissy leans forward to see what’s going on. Turning down the music, Eddie shifts his gaze from the road ahead over to the left lane and back. A group of dudes in what he’s pretty sure is an ‘82 Mustang GT. 

‘What do they want?’

Is this the part where some assholes try to take a shit on his good day? Hell no. Winding up the middle finger to tell them to piss off, it drops when he notices the guy in the passenger side making hand gestures. Then the driver himself revs his engine a few times. So, that’s what it is. His lips curl up into a smirk as he gives them a thumbs up. 

These bastards wanna race, huh? They don’t realize who they’re tryin’ to play with. Not only can this Corvette outrun their Mustang, but there’s a maniac behind the wheel who doesn’t know when to quit. 

Tightening his grip, he shoots Chrissy a look and grins. “Hold on to your tits, sweetheart.” 

“What?”

She yelps when he floors it, getting pushed back against the seat as they speed down the highway. The Mustang is right along with them, keeping up. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the people in the back going wild. Leaning over the armrest while pumping their fists and yelling at the driver. 

There aren’t many other folks out here today but he has to swerve into the right lane and back to the center when a minivan gets in the way. 

“You better not lose, Eddie!” She shouts out the command, sounding much braver than she actually looks. Her hands are gripping onto the seat belt and headrest, hanging on for dear life. 

“Gotcha, princess. I won’t. Not in this bad boy.” Okay, no more playing games then. If Chrissy wants a W, she’ll get it. Still, a thought jumps out that widens his grin. “Do I get anything if I win?” He nips at inside of his cheek, waiting on the answer after she’s silent for a moment. It wouldn’t take much more to pass the car they’re racing. There’s about a 30 mph gap in their top speeds. He’s just having fun dragging it out. If the reward is another kiss, these guys are about to get smoked. 

“Yeah, you won’t get smacked for scaring me.” 

‘Damn. I tried.’

“Well,” His ears perk up when she hesitantly speaks up. Now’s not the time to steal another glance, but he’d bet money her face is pink from the way she sounds. “You might get a little something. We can talk about it after you beat them.”

“Oh?!” That’s pretty vague, but leaves enough room to bargain and tease the hell out of her. Alrighty, then. “Hang on tight.” 

Eddie leans forward in the driver’s seat and clenches his jaw, applying more pressure to the gas pedal. Unlike last time, he’s not letting up. Screw these guys. There’s a reward waiting for him at the end of this. Revving the engine, the guys in the Mustang are flashed a wide smile before they fly past them. Barreling down the highway and leaving them in the dust. 

“That’s right! Eat dirt, dumbasses!” He doesn’t hold back, hooting and hollering while slapping the side of the steering wheel. Smiling like the biggest idiot in existence. Throwing up his hand, Chrissy laughs and high-fives him. They did that shit, and it was one hell of a rush. “So, where’s my prize? Hmm?”

“Uhn-uh. I’ve learned my lesson. You’re not getting anything until we’re parked somewhere. I don’t need you almost causing an accident… again.” 

‘I’m never gonna live that down.’

“Oh, shit!” His eyes turn into saucers seeing the flashing lights in the side–view mirror. That’s a Chevy Caprice. A state trooper. Not one of the bumpkins from Hawkins. They don’t mess around and are coming in hot down the center. “Shit, shit, shit!” Switching between looking at the road ahead and the mirror, he debates what to do. They could outrun him. That Caprice won’t catch her Corvette unless backup is called in to cut them off further down the highway. 

‘Jackass. This could end up in a double booking.’

The trooper veers off into the left lane and right up behind the dudes in the Mustang. Lady Luck is on their side it seems. Doesn’t mean they’re off the hook yet. 

“Oh my God! I thought he was coming for us.” She peeks over the top of the headrest again before sinking down into the seat, sighing in relief. “I don’t need a ticket after just getting this. My dad would definitely take the keys away.” 

“We’re not in the clear yet. I’ve had a few run-ins with the big dogs. They’re sneaky son’s–a–bitches. Those guys were closer. All it takes is a call on the radio for the bloodhounds to come sniffin’ around and we kinda stick out.” Seeing the look of panic on the her face, he reaches over to stroke her head. “We’ll be safe enough once we make the jump to hyperspace. Besides, I know a few maneuvers. We’ll lose them!” 

“What the heck are you talking about? Getting in a high-speed chase with the police?” Seems like that only made things worse. Now she’s really worried. 

“Christ. You know what? One of these weekends, we need to sit down and watch the Star Wars trilogy together. It’s not as funny if you don’t get my references.” He shakes his head and speeds up, hopping in front of an eighteen–wheeler. At least they’re out of view and it’s doubtful the cop got a good look at her license plate. The next exit is another small town. They’ll have to get back to Hawkins the long way. 

A sign for Brickston quickly passes them by. One-half mile and they can get the hell out of dodge. The ramp comes up fast and he jerks the wheel, making a sharp turn onto it. That gets a squeal and a little tug on his hair for not giving a heads-up. 

“We should be good now. You can relax.” Eddie turns off a dirt road into a ratty-looking gas station, pulling up to a pump. There’s less than a quarter tank left and it’s gonna take a bit to get home. Shutting the car off, he scans the area around them and groans. 

‘We’re deep in the sticks. This is real redneck country.’

“I don’t think I’ve been here before.” Chrissy sits up to look out of the window curiously. There’s not much to see. Just dirt, tall grass, and a few run-down places. No residential areas anywhere in sight. “Oh, no!” she gasps and holds her hands up, staring down in shock. 

“What?! What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t listen to your warning! The windows were down and everything!” She cries out, covering her face. Not answering when he repeats the question a couple more times. Did an earring fly out or something? His sunglasses get tossed onto the dashboard to make this easier. He leans over to check the floor, trying to figure out what she lost as her shoulders start shaking. 

‘Shit. It must’ve been really important. Not like we can look along the highway, either. Sucks but whatever’s gone is gone.’

“I–I forgot to hold on to my tits. They’re gone! What am I going to do?!” Dainty hands frantically pat the front of the light blue jacket. He follows the movements, dark eyes landing on her chest. It finally clicks like a gas stove turning on and a small flame ignites under his skin, burning his face and ears. 

“Goddammit, Chrissy!” He lunges over the armrest to get to the giggling cheerleader, pinching her cheeks and screwing up that windswept hair. Unbelievable. She played him for a fool. Fell for that crying act hook, line, and sinker. And she’s laughing her ass off about it. “You little liar! What was that crap about not saying mean things, huh? Or does that only apply to me?” 

“Okay, okay! I’m sorry! Uncle!” 

“Hey, leave him outta this.” Dropping back into the driver’s seat, Eddie huffs while adjusting his bandana. It goes quiet. He tilts his head to the side, watching her fixing the mess he made in the mirror. She’s got that look again. Something is bothering her and it’s not hard to read between the lines. “There’s nothing wrong with ‘em, you know.” 

Chrissy pauses in the middle of untangling a knot. Just focusing on the tiny visor mirror. So that’s the problem? She’s self-conscious about her chest and made a joke out of it to fish around for his opinion. 

“And if you couldn’t tell yet… I’m more of an ass man.” She whips her head towards him with a startled expression. Yeah, he said that and with a big ol’ smirk. The princess is gonna have to deal with it. “But if you wanna keep insisting they’re missing, I’m down to look for ‘em. Gotta pretty good hunch where to start, too.” 

They stare at each other for a good minute before cracking up. Slowly releasing the pressure. A blush spreads across her face from that crappy attempt at flirting. The laugh and huge smile it draws out make it all worth it. Warmth pools in his chest from gazing at her and that reaffirms the obvious. 

Eddie is totally smitten.

“I’m surprised you wanted something like that.”

“What can I say? Gotta sweet tooth today.” He snorts, holding the door open for her. She strolls out, gripping the small to-go cup of hot chocolate from inside. Clearly he wasn’t the only one who wanted more sugar. 

After the long trek back to Hawkins, they headed downtown to explore their own backyard together. Actually, Eddie was in the mood for some sweet cream pie and the bakery on Dawson has bangin’ goodies. Not that it happens often. More like once in a blue moon when the munchies drag his ass there to satisfy a particular craving. It’s one of those days where it feels right to treat himself and they’re already in the area. 

Finding out Chrissy never tried it wasn’t too surprising. Her mom monitored everything and enforced a strict diet. So lame. No one’s going to do that anymore if he can help it. She took a few bites and that was good enough for him. Eating some is better than none. 

‘Still a couple of hours left.’

Honestly, he’s not crazy about hanging around this side of town but whatever. It’s always full of yuppies, hipsters, and the local yokels going about their day. They’re so different, yet have a similar issue. 

A goddamn staring problem. 

‘The hell you lookin’ at?’

His eyes narrow on two guys in their thirties passing them on the sidewalk. Giving both high school seniors the ‘look’. That keeps happening. Some people observe them curiously or scrunch up their noses, if they bother at all. Hawkins is a small town. Most folks at least know of each other. 

It’s annoying. They could be gawking for a million reasons. The bruise on his face on top of everything else probably sets off their ‘trouble incoming’ alarms. Some might be worried the princess is getting in with the wrong crowd from a few concerned expressions. Hell, the pair are odd together. To the squares, they might as well be seeing a demon skulking down their streets with an angel floating alongside him. He’d probably stop to take a gander, too. 

Still, there’s always fun to be had. When she’s not looking and someone is staring at them, he’ll throw up the devil’s horns or roll his eyes back. Occasionally flip them off. Anything to startle them and get a good laugh. 

“I don’t remember this being here.” Chrissy stops in front of the old Radio Shack. The store closed the beginning of last year. What a shame. They had sturdy cables and extension cords for cheap. But now there’s a board on the window with a couple of sheets tacked onto it. Some town announcements, and two missing person posters full of details and a number to call with information.

‘Danny is still missing.’

They didn’t know each other well. Only in passing. The dude’s uncle is one of the old heads Wayne hangs out with at the bar. Used to, anyway. After Danny went missing, the Gibsons have spent the last month handing out flyers, asking questions, and stapling posters everywhere. Some wave it off as the family not accepting their adult son is a runaway.

“That man looks familiar.” A finger taps against the other poster as she leans in, eyeing the image closely. It’s a picture of a guy in his late fifties. Seems more like one taken from a business card. He’s in a suit and tie with his hair neatly combed. “Where have I seen him before?” 

“It’s a small town. Maybe you walked by him on the street or something.” 

“No, nevermind. I can’t remember anyway.” Chrissy sighs and gives the poster one last glance before moving on. She goes back to drinking the hot chocolate but he can tell from the way her brow is furrowed that she’s still puzzling over it. Trying to figure out the connection and place the face in the timeline. 

“Can I get some?” Those big blue doe eyes stare up at him as she hands the cup over. Totally distracted from the issue. Good. No reason to get bummed out over something that can’t be helped. After taking a sip, he gives it back and she wraps her pretty lips around the straw he just drank from. 

‘I don’t deserve this.’

Eddie chews on the corner of his mouth while watching her. She’s so beautiful. Sometimes it hurts to look at her but he can’t help himself. The time they spend together is special to him. It’s different from hanging out with the guys. There’s no good way to accurately describe it. All that’s for sure is that he doesn’t want whatever this is to end. 

‘I wanna kiss her again.’

Walking down the street with no destination in mind, he keeps stealing glances at Chrissy, debating on making some kind of move. Even if it’s just holding her hand. It doesn’t have to go beyond that. 

“Ah! Oh my God!” She suddenly takes off like a bat out of hell. Running straight up to a large window of a shop with mannequins on display. He follows along and eyes her looking around excitedly. Across the top of the place is the name Marie’s in fancy–schmancy lettering. 

“The spring collection is out! Oh, that dress is so pretty.” Right in the front is a knee-length white dress with a floral pattern. It’s true. The outfit is pretty and would look great on her. “So is that blouse. Those sandals are cute, too.” 

The sheer joy radiating from her is contagious. Of course she’s into this kinda stuff. Outside of cheerleading, this chick usually dresses really nice. Lots of bright colors, soft-looking fabrics, and flowy pieces that are probably expensive. The total opposite of his style. That’s just who she is.

‘I can’t buy shit in there. Couldn’t take her shopping even if I wanted to.’ 

Seeing the big smile on her face and how those blue eyes light up while checking out the different outfits leaves him feeling off. Like a ball of hot lead got jammed into his stomach. She obviously really wants that dress and could get it herself no problem. He’d have to really hustle to make enough. It’d probably take a couple weeks of saving up anything extra. 

‘Douchebag could walk right in with her and pay for everything in the display window without worrying about gas. The Hair, too.’

Reaching into his back pocket, he pulls out a cigarette pack, needing a smoke to smooth out the jagged edges. How stupid. She’s here with him. Not any of them. Thinking that doesn’t make the crappy feeling disappear though. Whatever. There’s other stuff he can do to make her happy that doesn’t rely on money. 

‘She should be with someone who can—’

“Sorry!” Chrissy skips back over to him and bounces on her heels, giving him an apologetic look. “Didn’t mean to make you wait.” 

“You got nothing to be sorry for.” He bops the tip of her nose and dodges the hand trying to swat him like a bug, laughing while the cigarette dangles from the corner of his mouth. “Gotta do better than that if you wanna hit me.” This chick is surprisingly fast. That small stature caused him to underestimate her like a dumbass. 

“I don’t. You would know it if I really did.” 

That taunting smirk she gives him before spinning away and walking off makes him want to spank that little ass so badly. His face scrunches up as he stares at her back, reeling in the self-indulgent side that’s eager to play around. Nope. He’s pushed his luck enough for one day.

“Dammit,” Eddie mutters irritably, giving the store window one last resentful sweep. This is dumb. He shakes it off and dashes down the sidewalk to catch up with her. Acting like a moron won’t change anything. It’s not a secret he’s poor. She already knows and apparently doesn’t care.

“Why do you look so grumpy?” Chrissy tilts her head back to zero in on him when they turn the corner. 

“What do you mean? This is my normal face. I just make it look less pissy when you’re around. Don’t wanna scare you off.” He gives her a toothy grin, not wanting to ruin the mood over some dopey crap. 

“Sure it is.” 

Dark eyes drift downward when something brushes up against his jacket. A hand glides along the leather sleeve and over the chains used to keep the cuff together until reaching the intended destination. It slips into his own so naturally now and their fingers readily intertwine like they’ve done this a million times before. 

Glancing at her from the side, she’s staring at the front of a small craft shop they’re passing by. He notices the color in her cheeks and it’s probably not from the nippy March air alone. Yeah, none of that other stuff matters anymore. It’s better to live in the moment and enjoy what’s right in front of him while it lasts.

Evening came far too quickly. The hours flew by so fast. Charlotte is going to be expecting her and Natalie to show up soon. Not that she isn’t looking forward to girls’ night. They haven’t had one of those in a while. It’s just that spending most of the day with Eddie has been wonderful. Part of her is reluctant to leave but that can’t be helped. Both of them have plans. Her with friends and him at The Hideout. 

“I had fun.” Chrissy says softly as they stop next to the Corvette. Clasping her hands together, she gazes up at him affectionately. It’s hard to remember the last time she allowed herself to let go like that and have fun without a care. 

“Same. If you ever feel like getting chased around again, you know where to come.” The smile that spreads across his face causes her chest to tighten. Like the one from the forest. Definitely swoon-worthy. “How’s your ass? My bad if I was a little rough.”

‘Ugh. It’ll never be the same again.’

“No, don’t worry about that. It’s fine. I, um… I liked it.” It turned out to be true. Asking him to do that earlier helped her figure out a few things about herself. Honestly, that’s freaking her out. When getting ready to come over, there were thoughts of what they can do together like taking the car for a spin. Having some kind of strange sexual awakening was not part of the plan. 

“Yeah? Knew it. The sweet ones always end up being the biggest freaks.” This guy seems proud of himself, standing tall with a cocky expression. Seeing the face she’s making puts a damper on that. “I say that with love. It’s a compliment. We’re both huge freaks. You’re just less conspicuous than me.” 

“Mm.” Turning away, she opens the driver’s door and gingerly slides onto the seat, trying not to wince with him watching. Her ass is sore. Nothing too bad, though. Cheer practice has left her in worse shape than this. Getting settled in, she rolls down the window and eyes him right outside it. “I was wondering something. Have you… ever done that before?”

“Spank someone?” Eddie stoops down to lean against the door, poking his head through the open window. He seems to know a lot about it. Mentioning stuff like a traffic light system or whatever. She’s not sure if she actually wants to know the answer. It’s making her feel a bit weird to think about him doing this with other girls. 

“Ah-huh.”

‘This is silly. Am I really getting jealous over that? He’s not my boyfriend. Knock it off, dweeb.’ 

“Pshh! All the time.” He rears back, giving her a look of disbelief. As if doubting it alone was absurd. Her stomach twists into knots. “There’s usually a line out front that stretches all the way to the main road with every chick in the park waiting for their daily fix. Told them I needed the day off so you wouldn’t see them and blow a gasket. They were pretty pissed but what can I do?” He shrugs his shoulders, flashing her a wolfish grin. “Cat’s out of the bag now, so I guess that was pointless.”

‘What a punk! He’s toying with me.’

“You know, my punishments are pretty infamous. They’re the real deal. Hell, I’ve become something of an urban legend ‘round these parts. Ask anyone. People started calling me ‘The Dom’. There’s even a rumor that spread a while ago that if someone says that name three times out loud, I’ll pop out of nowhere to bend them over my knee and spank ‘em.” 

“The Dom?” Her eyes go wide with wonder, playing along with this wacky little tale. “Like a mafia boss? Or is that a don?”

He gawks at her, finding himself temporarily speechless. Did that throw him off? His face is heating up. Or is there something she’s missing? “...Sure. I guess you could say that…” 

“So you’re a spanking fiend. I should’ve known. My apologies, Mr. Dom. I didn’t realize I was in the presence of such a legend. What an opportunity. I must be really special since you didn’t make me wait in line with all the other women.” 

“Oh, well… It’s not every day these hands get to touch royalty. Wasn’t going to pass up the chance. Didn’t need those chicks cramping my style, either.” 

“I see. That gives me an interesting idea. There’s nothing like that ‘round my parts’. I enjoyed it, so maybe other people in the hoity-toity section—as you call it—might too. I’d bet plenty of guys across town would love getting punished by me. Oh! I could do it in my cheerleading outfit!” She claps her hands together excitedly, drinking in the look of horror on his face. “Do you think I can charge for that? I’d probably make a ton of money.” 

“Woah, woah, woah! Slow down there. Don’t get ahead of yourself. Getting spanked once doesn’t make you an expert, young padawan.” His upper body is basically in the car now and he clamps his hands down on her shoulders, coming in close enough that there’s only a few inches between their noses. “You’re going to need a lot more lessons before even considering doing anything like that. It’s serious business. Someone could get hurt. On top of that, my technique is super secret and difficult to learn properly. Could take years to get the basics down.” 

“So, what? You don’t like my plan?” 

“Plan? I’m not exactly crazy about it, to be honest.” Eddie lets out a ridiculously long sigh and looks away, staring at the passenger seat. “I, uh… I’d rather it just be with me. Hawkins is too shitty to deserve that luxury.” 

She exhales sharply at that. “You would, huh? That’s not really fair. Why should I if every girl in Forest Hills is going to line up out front once I leave for their daily dose of you?”

“Because we both know I’m totally full of crap. Even if a bunch of chicks lost their damn minds and started flocking outside, it doesn’t matter. I don’t want ‘em.” Chrissy stills when his gaze lands back on her while processing what he’s saying. Despite knowing the whole line up thing was a joke, it’s quickly taking a more serious turn now. “And to answer your original question… No. You’re my first victim.” 

“Really?” That’s surprsing. It wouldn’t be a stretch to think he was messing around again but there’s something so earnest about the way he responded that makes her believe it’s sincere.  

“Yeah. I wouldn’t bullshit you.” 

“I’ll take that into consideration. It all sounds like a lot of work and I’m busy with cheerleading, so you might get what you want.” His face lights up at that and the butterflies inside start flapping their wings again, getting excited by the overt satisfaction across this guy’s features. She checks the time on the dashboard for a distraction. “Well, I need to get going.” 

“Okay, okay.” That satisfaction turns into disappointment with a single sentence and he’s letting everything show. Tapping his fingers against the window frame, he pauses and stares at her strangely. She shifts against the seat, not knowing what the deal is. “Hold up! You never gave me my reward for winning the race. Don’t think I’ll forget that easily. I busted my ass to get you that W.” 

Is that what he’s going with to buy himself a few more minutes? Still, she did say he ‘might get a little something’ for winning despite not having much of a say in the race itself. But it was already happening and her competitive side kicked in. “What do you want?”

Eddie swallows hard, making his Adam’s apple bob as he hesitates. The seconds keep passing by without a word and she looks at him expectantly, waiting for the answer. “Can I kiss you again?” 

“Oh, ah, yeah. Sure. Go for it.” Hearing that come out so casually is astounding, pushing Chrissy to once again question what the hell has gotten into her today. Maybe getting a car gave her some spunk. Or being around this guy is slowly bringing out a side she wasn’t aware of before. 

“Heh.” The hands resting on the blue jacket move to cup her face as he leans in, pressing his lips to hers. So tender and warm and everything and some. She doesn’t hesitate to return it in kind. Unlike the first time, there’s no awkward nose bumps or needing to figure out where the puzzle pieces go. They have it down now.

‘I don’t want it to end.’

Her eyes flutter shut as she hums softly against his mouth, getting swept away by him once again. Will it always be like this? That might become troublesome. 

“Damn.” He pulls back and sucks in a deep breath to replace what she stole. They look at each other for what feels like an eternity before Eddie reluctantly drags himself out of the driver’s side and straightens up. “So, I guess I’ll catch you later, then. Have fun at your seance.”

“You too.” She smiles sadly and starts up the car, a little bummed out about having to leave. His hand taps on the roof before stepping back so she can pull away. 

‘I wonder what’s going to happen after this. What are we even doing?’

Turning onto the road, Chrissy can’t resist glancing in the rearview mirror. He’s still standing there with his arms crossed, watching her take off. A few seconds later and he is finally out of sight. Her chest feels weird. Like there’s a gaping hole in it. She doesn’t want to put much thought into that. 

‘Music. I need to listen to something.’

ABBA’s ‘Dancing Queen’ lightens the mood. She moves along to the music, already beginning to feel better. This mixtape is everything. A prized possession. The sign to Forest Hills flies by as she speeds up, ready to move on to the next part of her day.

“I’m pissed about it! You know how long I spent getting ready?! That’s the last time I take advice from that stupid column.” Charlotte huffs as she angrily flips another page, kicking her legs back and forth in the air behind her. “My parents were gone, too. We would’ve had the house to ourselves for the entire night.” 

“I told you that would get him upset. He doesn’t seem like the type who wants to play those kinds of games.” If the shoe was on the other foot, John would be a dead man right now. Already six feet under. Chrissy warned her when the idea was floated around not to go through with it. 

Recently, Charlotte and her boyfriend have been having some issues. With practice, games, finals, prom, graduation, and a hundred other things coming up, most of their group is stressed or busy. From the sounds of it, she’s busy and John is stressed. Like a few other people she knows, he’s in danger of not graduating if his grades don’t come up. They’re not spending as much time together which is causing a whole host of problems. 

Instead of talking about it, she took advice from a gossip column that was meant for someone else in a similar, yet very different situation. Bad idea. They both told her that but she thought it was smart to make him jealous by flirting with Joey. What was that supposed to do? Show John she’s still in-demand and make him realize he could lose her if more effort isn’t put into their relationship. The result? Date night getting cancelled at the last minute.

The ‘Goddess of Love’ knows a lot about men and relationships. She spends so much time socializing, combing through magazines, reading novels, and doing ‘research’. The problem is that she doesn’t take her own advice and sabotages herself in the most absurd ways. 

“Idiot.” Natalie snorts and leans to the side to avoid a pillow launched straight at her head. 

“Shut it! You’ve been no help. All you do is say everything is a waste of time.” Sitting up, the brunette twists on the carpet to face away from her. Not that Nat cares. “And I know, Chris. I broke the law and messed up big time. Crap. I’ll just call him tomorrow and try to make up.” 

Chrissy grips the pillow in her lap tightly and gazes at the two ignoring each other. That won’t last long. Maybe a few minutes before jumping into something different and forgetting all about it. The rest of the team won’t be coming until later. That gives them plenty of time to hang out together. 

Both were really shocked to see the Corvette when she finally got here. It was amazing. They took it for a spin around the neighborhood before coming back and getting changed into some lounge clothes. Now their little group is lying around on Charlotte’s floor, just chatting and going through magazines until the others start arriving. 

‘I hope this doesn’t end up like practice yesterday. Of course Amber is going to be brought up. Jason, too. I need to put my foot down and set some things straight. We have a game on Monday.’

“Hello?” A hand waves near her face, dragging her attention back to the present. “Did you hear me? I asked what’s going on with you and the… uh, Munson. Give us an update, girlie.” 

“The Munson? Or did you actually mean the freak?”

“Guys.” Her lips pull back into a firm line. Haven’t they been over this? She doesn’t like anyone calling Eddie names, even if he says it himself. At least Charlotte is attempting to change that. Others will probably need more time. It takes a beat for the question to sink in and she tenses, already feeling her skin warming up. “And, um… nothing really.” 

“What’s with that blush, then? Doesn’t seem like ‘nothing really’. I bet you’re holding out on us again.” Leaning forward, Charlotte gives Chrissy a long look, trying to pick her apart. It’s easier now. Unlike before, she’s not putting in a ton of effort to control her expression around them. 

‘Should I talk about it? I always stayed quiet about everything with Jason so they didn’t fully know what was going on. That might’ve helped me figure stuff out earlier on.’

Keeping secrets and not asking for help is part of the reason this all blew up in her face. Instead of getting anyone’s advice, she let things stew until it bubbled over and made a huge mess. A single person doesn’t have all the answers and getting input from friends can clear stuff up. 

“So, are you two just friends?” Surprisingly, that comes from Natalie. She pushes a small stack of magazines out of the way and scoots closer. 

“Not exactly. To be honest, I could really use some advice.” 

Chapter Text

“Girl, come on. Fill us in on the deets. I’m going crazy over here.”

“Okay, okay! Give me a second.” The two pairs of eyes trained on her is making this nerve-racking. Would Eddie mind if she talks to them about it? Some things should clearly stay private—like his monster porn collection—but what about the rest? Does he have similar conversations with his friends?

‘Uh-oh. I feel like I’m going to burst. Can’t think about that. It’s too late to back out now. They’re both invested already.’

“I’m not really sure what this is. We’re technically not dating. He hasn’t asked me out or anything. Actually, we haven’t even talked about it. Who knows if he’s into any of that? Relationship stuff, I mean.” She says pensively, ignoring how Charlotte gasps and clutches her chest. 

“You’re not going out, haven’t talked about going out, and have no clue if he would even want to go out. Maybe you two are just friends?”

“Nat! She said they’re technically not dating. That’s like dating without putting labels on anything. Read between the lines.”

“No, ‘not dating’ means not dating. If there’s no actual date, then it’s just hanging out with someone.”

“That’s the thing…” Chrissy pulls her knees up, wrapping both arms around them. Thankfully the rug is extra fluffy with some cushion to it. That spanking from earlier left her backside a little sore, so moving around gives a not-so-subtle reminder that they’re not just friends. “I don’t know anymore. It’s confusing sometimes. Like, we’re definitely more than that.”

“Hold up! If you’re more than friends, but not going out, does that mean you’re fun buddies?” 

“No!” She turns a bright shade of red, waving her hands frantically. “It’s not like that.”

‘Wait. Are we? I’m not sure what counts.’

“Maybe? We’re into each other. That’s obvious. I like him a lot.” There. That’s finally out in the open. “I guess you could say we’re seeing where things go? It’s sort of similar to what Charlotte said. The whole ‘not putting labels on it’ thing.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Natalie arches a brow, tilting her head to the side. It’s clear she’s not the biggest fan of these recent developments. Particularly because of who it’s with. 

‘I can tell she doesn’t like him. This won’t be easy. It would be nice if everyone could get along but that’ll take time.’

“For now, I suppose. It’s just… when we hangout, I’m happy and we always fun. He makes me feel good. It’s so different from being with Jason. There’s no rules or pressure or having to worry about making him mad. It’s nice. Eddie’s been a great friend, but now things are… changing. Stuff happened and I’m all mixed up about it. I don’t think we can go back to the way it was anymore.” 

Charlotte’s eyes go wide and dart over toward the junior to confirm if she also heard that. “Chris? Did you… Did you guys get it on? Is that what you’re saying?” 

Chrissy grabs onto the strings of her sweatpants to play with. Anything to use as a distraction from the pounding in her chest. She’s overly aware of both girls giving their full attention to this lame attempt at an explanation. “It didn’t go that far.” 

“It didn’t go that far? Then how far did it go?” The curiosity laced in the redhead's whisper makes this a bit more tantalizing to drag out. They’re dying to know. Did the ‘prude’ do something scandalous for once? 

Letting out a shaky breath, she steels any resolve left to bare part of her soul in front of them. “Well, we kind of made out earlier… and he… spanked me.” She bites down on her bottom lip and slowly looks up from the strings, almost afraid of their reactions. 

Natalie sticks a pinky in her ear and twists it around before yanking it out. “Sorry. Didn’t hear that last part. Now what did you say?”

“He, um… spanked me.” 

“Come again?” The fellow senior leans in close, staring at her with the fiery intensity of a thousand suns. 

“You heard me the first time! I said he spanked me. Hand on my butt. Slap, slap. Spank. There’s no other way to explain it.” Chrissy is on the verge of a meltdown. Face red, heart going into overdrive, and brain on the fritz. It was bad enough getting it out once. 

The room erupts in the most embarrassing way. With the two squealing and knocking over the stacks of magazines, causing them to spill over the carpet. Charlotte drags herself over to the large Madonna poster on the wall and slaps her hands against it. “Thank you, Mother Superior. It’s finally happening. I knew this day would come.”

“Guys! Please!" They didn’t even get to the advice part. This was just laying the groundwork so they’re all on the same page. “Jeez. You act like I’ve never done anything before.” 

“Oh, I know you’ve made out with Ken plenty of times, Barbie. That’s baby stuff. Spanking is an entirely different ballgame. I should’ve known he was into some freaky deaky things. Any guy who walks around with chains and hair like that isn’t a vanilla kind of person.” Crawling back to her previous spot, the brunette sits down and leans back on her palms, eyeing the captain with more interest than ever. “I have a few questions.” 

That was an understatement. Chrissy found that out real quick. Is he a good kisser? Did they use tongue? Does he have bad breath? What’s he like when they’re together? How did it all go down? Did any clothes come off? Where were his hands? What did they say? Are there plans to meet up again? And Charlotte’s favorite, how big is he? 

“What do you mean you didn’t check? Couldn’t you feel it?”

“I didn’t touch him there! Look, I was kind of nervous and not thinking straight, okay? That wasn’t exactly on my mind.” She shrugs, hoping the outside doesn’t match the inside. Her face probably looks like it was covered in rouge. 

“Are you sure about this guy? How do you know he’s not using you?” Natalie pipes up, cutting right through their teammate's invasive line of questioning. “What if he has a thing for cheerleaders? He mentioned not bringing us up in his ‘rants’, but isn’t that kind of weird? We’re right in there with the jocks. What makes us any different? That most of us are girls in short skirts?” 

‘Using me?’

“What’s your damage, dweeb?” The giddy, lighthearted mood in the room took a sudden downturn. That doesn’t please their host who was enjoying the discussion up to this point. “You’re being a real wet blanket.”

“Look who’s talking! First you threatened to cut his Johnson off, and now you’re trying to find out how big it is. That’s a total one-eighty! What changed?”

The small argument breaking out causes her smile to fade. It was bound to happen. If not now, then during the sleepover at some point. She’s not completely oblivious. To everyone else, this is all coming out of nowhere. Literally a week ago, they were all sitting in the Carver’s parlor room while Jason made a show of giving her a bracelet. No one had a clue what was going on behind the scenes. 

“You know what? Since we’re getting down to the nitty-gritty of it all, I’ll be upfront. Chrissy—” Hearing Charlotte throw out her full first name signifies how serious she’s being. “Yeah, I was pretty gagged to find out you were meeting up with Munson. It also sucked that you didn’t clue us in on it, but I don’t blame you because I’m a blabbermouth and probably would’ve spilled the beans by accident. So is most of the team.” 

‘She really is being upfront.’

“For real, I can come up with a ton of reasons why you shouldn’t mess around with that guy. And when I say a ton, I mean a ton, but we’ve been friends for a while. We get each other. I don’t understand this thing between you two. All I know is that—for whatever reason—he makes you happy. As someone who loves love, how could I possibly be against that?”

‘Don’t bring the l-word into this.’

“Nice speech, narbo. I want her to be happy, too! I’m having a hard time trusting him. Chris, you’re so nice and it blows my mind thinking about you hooking up with ‘the freak’ who’s also my cousin’s drug dealer. It’s crazy. Like, I’m glad you’re happy and all… I just want you to be careful.” Natalie relents, looking away from the other two.

“Listen, I get where you’re both coming from. I do. Eddie does…‘things’ and gets in trouble and messes around all the time. It’s not a big secret. That’s okay with me. I’m not exactly a perfect little angel, either. Actually, in a lot of ways, I think he’s a much better person than I’ll ever be.” She ignores the protests from the cheerleaders and stares down at the hands resting in her lap, slowly rubbing them together. 

“Who knows? This might be a huge mistake I’ll end up regretting. Still, for once in my life, I want to be the one to make those decisions, regardless of where they lead me. I understand you guys being iffy about all of this but as my friends, can you give him a chance?”

Chrissy doesn’t have to say everything for them to get it. She has no intention of answering Natalie’s question about him possibly using her for anything, let alone telling them what’s really been going on. Heck, he doesn’t even know the entire truth. No one does, except for her. 

Eddie having a thing for cheerleaders? So what? If that was the case, then he nabbed the squad captain. Good for him. Flipping it the other way around, she snagged the lead guitarist of a metal band. Stellar. They’re both getting some excitement out of this. 

“Gotcha, girl. I know what it’s like to have everyone running their mouths over a choice I made. You were one of the few people that backed me up then, so yeah. However, if Munson does anything messed up, I will follow through with that threat.” The brunette nods, smacking her lips at the end. “The whole ‘opposites attract’ thing kind of interests me, too. Might get the creative juices flowing.”

“I’ll try to give him a chance. Keyword ‘try’. For you. The next couple of weeks at school are going to be annoying but we can manage it.”

Chrissy’s brows pinch together as she sucks in her quivering bottom lip. This point in her life may be the closest she’ll get to being a normal teenager. Sitting around with friends, talking about boys, and having a heart–to–heart with a million magazines strewn across the carpet. For so long, she always kept others at arm's length, assuming the worst and never reaching out. Treating connections as a commodity to be used for more beneficial purposes. Like her parents did. 

Perhaps she didn’t have to be alone. There were good people around from the start. It took someone accidentally worming their way in and scaling the walls for her to truly recognize that.

“Good luck with that. I’m telling you, it doesn’t feel like an even 5/8 pattern. The rhythm is off just enough that playing strict eighth notes will cause you to fall out of step with the band. And yeah, it can be a real bitch. Try pulling off seven downstrokes every second and see how long it takes for your forearms to go numb.” Eddie explains, narrowing his eyes on the target. The dart flies through the air and lands right outside the triple ring. 

‘Goddammit. I still suck. Just wanna hit that bullseye once before I die.’ 

“Oh, c’mon. It can’t be that bad.” 

Is she for real? He stares at her in disbelief before shaking his head and grabbing another dart out of the lineup on the pool table. What a load of bullshit. It’s easy for someone who doesn’t play guitar to say that. 

“Maybe not for me but it’s still difficult. I’d suggest going way smaller.” The hubris. Jokingly strumming along for laughs and pulling off a Metallica cover are two completely different things. Anyone can pick at random chords while having no idea what they’re doing. If she wants to actually take this on, there’s no choice but to learn the basics. Not just grab Davie’s Les Paul to make everyone’s ears bleed. 

‘I’d like to see a newbie play that with less than two weeks to practice and it actually sound good. Unless they’re some kind of prodigy, there’s no friggin’ way that’s happening. This is why I should keep my damn mouth shut.’

“Smaller?” Chloe tsks and takes another drag of her cigarette, visibly annoyed that the impossible is… well, impossible. She taps the heel of her boot against the floor, running a hand through her short bleached blonde hair. Being impatient won’t change anything. And she’s not doing it out of genuine interest. No, the chick is mad after having another row with Jax, who made a comment that as a singer, she’s not a ‘real musician’. 

“Yeah. If you’re serious about playing guitar, you gotta start at the beginning like everyone else. There’s no way around it.” The next dart ends up right outside of the outer bullseye. His lips pull back with a sharp breath at how close he finally got. But no dice. Whatever. He grabs the beer bottle on the railing and chugs it down. 

He gets it. Making someone eat their words can feel so damn good. It doesn’t always work out that way, even with bull-headed determination. Just figuring out how to do simple songs properly in that short of time would be impressive but ‘Master of Puppets’? All the downstrokes and changing meter would be hard enough for a person with some experience. 

“Well, then…” The blonde saunters over to where he’s sitting on the side of the pool table, sliding up right next to him. “Maybe you can help me with the basics? Hm? We could start tonight after the bar closes. Whaddya say? You give me guitar lessons and I’ll make it worth your time.” She smiles and waggles her brows, getting a little too close. 

Eddie jerks his head back and looks at Chloe like she’s lost it. “Huge pass. You’re cool and all, but I don’t dig you like that. Not game with being used to make Jax jealous, either.” That’s what this is all about. They’re having another one of their stupid spats. The two fight, pull some petty moves, cause trouble, then get back together. Again and again. Nothing but a bunch of drama. What makes it worse is that they’re in the same band. 

“Ugh. I don’t even want to hear that name!” Her cigarette butt is angrily stamped out in an ashtray before another is quickly lit up. “This has nothing to do with him.”

“Yeah, sure. Look, if you really wanna learn to play, ask Davie or someone else who has extra time on their hands. I don’t. Besides, you’re not my type anyway… And I’m seeing someone.” Nope. Ain’t no way he’s getting dragged into that mess. 

The Hideout is his home away from home. A place to go where he can express himself freely around folks with the same interests. All he wants is to have fun, chill, drink, and jam. Not get caught up in some shit that'd make coming here suck. Jax would try to fight him every time he walked through the door. It’s happened before with other dudes and that drove Dom nuts having to break it up constantly. 

More importantly, there's Chrissy.  

“You asswipe! Just say you don’t want to smash instead of lyin’ to me.” 

“I’m being straight with you but fine. I don’t wanna smash. ‘Kay?” 

“No one’s smashing anything while they’re on the clock.” Donna comes out from behind the bar, eyeing the two while shrugging off her jacket. She must’ve just got back from 'running errands'. “Where’d Dom sneak off to? Doors open in a half hour. We’ve got work to do.”

“I don’t know. Maybe he’s blowing up the bathroom. He was sitting back in his chair like ten minutes ago.” Chloe lazily taps the long ash at the end of her cigarette onto the tray before taking another drag. 

“Better now than later, I suppose.” The big boss lady walks around the counter and over to the pool table. “I take it everything is good to go if you’re both taking a break. How is my temp employee? You knock off everything on your to-do list?” She smirks, taking out her own pack of smokes to light one up. 

“Yeah, yeah. Got that done a while ago.” It was easy stuff. More time-consuming than anything. 

Bringing in the delivery from out back, putting stuff away, washing and drying glasses, taking out trash, sweeping the floor, wiping down tables, and making sure their equipment works properly. All while Chloe’s been sitting around smacking gum and Dom does who knows what. He swears they left the bulk of the crap for him to do today. 

“Good.” Donna slowly nods, crossing her arms before arching a brow at him. “What the hell happened to your face? Did your girlfriend’s boyfriend find out about you or somethin’?”

“His what?!” The blonde whips her head in his direction. “Your girlfriend’s boyfriend? So you weren’t bullshitting me. Wow. I’m impressed, dude. Get it.”

‘Why does she have to ask me that in front of a big mouth?’

“Don’t be. It’s not that wild.” He scoffs, turning back to the older woman. This blows. If he says nothing now, she’ll press the guys until they break and spill everything they know. “She kicked her boyfriend to the curb, there was a fight, and now we’re seeing each other. Bam. That’s my entire statement and I won’t be taking any further questions.” 

Eddie isn’t crazy about this. He doesn’t like talking about his personal personal life. Different parts are kept separate for a reason. Donna loves buzz, though. Don’t get him wrong. Certain info can be really useful, especially with what they do. Just with organizing acts, gossip can give her an idea of who to keep separate, which people work well together, etc. That doesn’t even go into the ‘other stuff’. 

“Consider my mind blown. Who’s this broad, anyway?”

“She was here that Tuesday Dom dumped a bucket of water on Jax. You would’ve noticed her right away. Stuck out like a turd in a punchbowl. Little blonde preppy girl.”

“Okay, yeah. I remember. I saw her out front. So that’s what all the hubbub was about. I thought he was screwin’ around about Munson having a girl.”

Eddie goes back to throwing darts at the board, trying to ignore the conversation. And failing spectacularly. His ears can’t help themselves from hanging on every word leaving their lips, almost waiting for one of them to start shit-talking his… girl? Friend? Girlfriend? Whatever. Donna said it, not him. If that’s what they wanna go with, then cool. Let ‘em. 

‘Jesus Christ. Do they think I’m such a loser that having a girlfriend is big news?’

“If she’s gonna come here, she could at least try to look the part. I wonder if she’d let me give her a makeover? That’d be fun. Steph looked smokin’ hot by the time I was done with her.” The excitement in Chloe’s voice instantly puts him on red alert. There’s no point in her asking. Throwing the idea out there means she’s already made up her mind to go for it. 

“Hell no.” The game is quickly abandoned for something far more important. No friggin’ way. Over his dead body. He knows how this will turn out. “You leave Chrissy alone about that. There’s nothin’ wrong with the way she looks.” 

Everyone at the bar remembers when Chloe gave Davie’s girlfriend a ‘makeover’. Taking a quiet bookworm and turning her into a Nancy Spungen look–alike. If there’s one thing he can’t stand, it’s phonies. He sees it all the time. People changing everything about themselves to fit in with others. 

If those two hung out and Chrissy suddenly came in with bleached blonde hair, fishnet stockings, leather threads, and started headbanging, he might throw up on himself. It’d be different if she showed an interest in any of that before, but that’s not the case. 

Chrissy being Chrissy is what makes her so endearing. Her strawberry blonde hair. Her dos. Makeup. Those bright girly outfits. Her passion for cheerleading and listening to pop music. How she sleeps with more pillows than a single person would ever need and a big, poofy blanket on that cozy bed. The way she bounces around whenever she’s excited, even from looking at overpriced clothes through a window.

All those things make up who she is as a person and he adores her for it. That’s genuine. Real. Eddie will take that every day of the week and twice on Sundays over some poser bullshit. 

“C’mon, it’d be rad. Donna said she’s a cheerleader. That’s too perfect. I could be like Frenchy helping Sandy do her thing. Little Miss Goody-Goody has the hair for it, too.”

“Hell. No. Sandy is a fraud who only did that to impress a dude and his gang. That’s so damn lame. If I wanted to get with a chick version of myself, I’d sniff around here. You keep your claws off of her.” 

“Those are fightin’ words, Munson! Don’t you dare talk trash about my girl. Sandy did that to show her—”

“Shut up!” Donna cuts in between, looking from one to the other. “Both of you shut it. You’re giving me a headache. Chloe, go stack the glasses before I stack you. Eddie,” she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Just… I don’t know. Keep yourself busy without making a mess until we open.” 

The blonde sucks in her lips while scowling at him, no doubt holding back a string of curses. Reluctantly, she stomps away to the counter to do exactly as the boss lady said. He can’t resist grinning just to irritate her even more. 

“Oh, give it a break already.” The tatted woman steps closer and gives him a nudge. “I saw your guitar case in the back. Are you planning on crashing someone’s set? Is that why you got all that work done so fast?”

“Puhh. I wouldn’t do that. What do you take me for? ” Eddie picks up a dart to roll between his fingers. Stealing the stage during a set is asking for a band war. Then it’ll be one act of sabotage after the next. “That asshole Neil wanted to run his mouth, so we’re gonna have a showdown to see who the better guitarist is.” 

“You serious? That’s not even fair. Well, guess I have no choice then. We’ll set up a betting pool. Dom can handle that. Might as well make some moolah out of it. Oh, and just so we’re clear… if anything gets broken this time, I’m holding you responsible for it.”

‘That’s horseshit!’

“The blonde waitresses take their trays. They spin around and they cross the floor. They’ve got the moves (oh way oh). You drop your drink then they bring you more…” 

“Oh way oh!” 

The girls sitting on the floor throughout the large family room sing along while watching the two dancing in front of the screen. Chrissy and Val, bending their arms and legs, and shuffling around like the people in the music video playing on MTV. Even throwing in some exaggerated moves to get more laughter from the rest of the team. 

“All the school kids so sick of books. They like the punk and the metal band. When the buzzer rings (oh way oh). They're walking like an Egyptian…”

“Chris! It’s your turn.” Kimmy yells over the song and chorus of voices, patting the now empty spot on the carpet in front of her. 

‘Yes!’

A sophomore, Brittney, hops up and smacks hands with her to switch places, keeping the dance going with Val. They all know the deal. She would’ve felt bad leaving a friend hanging like that and everyone is eager for their turn. 

Chrissy heads over to the corner of the room where the makeshift station is set up. Carefully stepping around the bowls of snacks and red cups. The smell of nail polish is strong. Thankfully Charlotte cracked a window or it’d be a lot worse. Of course, the host goes first. The brunette is sitting off to the side, wiggling her freshly painted red nails in excitement. As head cheerleader, she’s up next. That’s how it goes. 

“Okay, so what are you in the mood for?” The dark messy bun on the top of her head flops around with each movement while she clears the tiny work table. Kimmy’s ‘thing’ is doing nails. Filing, shaping, painting them, creating designs, gluing on small gems, stickers and press-ons. She loves it all. 

“Hmm.” A few of the others are planning on having their nails painted green or a mix of the team’s colors for the tournament. The championship game is less than three weeks away if the Tigers don’t lose. This month will be centered around that. They’ll have another pep rally coming up too, if all goes well. But there are other things to take into account. “I’m thinking a French manicure.” 

‘I can’t go wrong with that. It matches everything.’

“Alrighty. Give me like two minutes.” The senior hops up to refill the bowl of water and clean her tools before they begin. 

This is the first time during tournament season that Chrissy isn’t going with something Tigers-related. The previous year, she had green nails and the one before that was an alternating array of the team’s colors. It’s always been about showing school spirit. If anything, this is the month to do it. Once it’s over so is cheerleading. 

No more being captain or on the squad. No more practices throughout the year or pep rallies or events. No more coming up with routines, shaking pompoms, or competing with another school’s team. No more smiles, cheers, and applause from a crowd. 

She won’t be ‘Chrissy the cheerleader’ anymore. Just… Chrissy. 

“Hey, hey.” Someone sits down behind her and she sees it’s Natalie. “Can I braid your hair?”

“Sure. I can do yours, but we might have to wait a bit.” The small scrunchie is pulled out before fingers start running through her hair, beginning to separate it into sections. Usually it’d be a large band that goes with whatever outfit she’s wearing, except that one got lost in the mayhem at Eddie’s. 

“That’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” The redhead hums along with the next song playing as she gets to work. “Your hair is getting long. It’s so pretty.”

“Thanks. I’d still trade with you if I could. Mine looks like it couldn’t decide whether to be blonde or red and settled somewhere in the middle.” The two chuckle while Natalie puts a clip in to make the job easier. Her hair is beautiful, similar to Molly Ringwald’s. Kids used to make jokes about it. After ‘Sixteen Candles’ and ‘The Breakfast Club’ came out, there’s definitely been more of an appreciation for the shade.

“You don’t want red hair, trust me. All it does is make you stick out. I’m the only redhead on the team and we have maybe four in the whole school. And I swear, if someone calls me Claire one more time, I’m going to stomp their foot.” 

“Speaking of Claire,” Charlotte swoops in to sit beside them on the carpet. “Chris, you have to go see ‘Pretty in Pink’. I went with John to see it at the theater before, well, you know. It came out last week. Nat, you saw it, right? Joey said your family—”

“Ew, yeah. My mom dragged me and doofus along because she didn’t want to go alone. I can’t stand going anywhere with him. He’s always sitting there laughing like a moron and eating everything. Gross. I still can’t believe you flirted with him. Real or not, that really makes me question your taste.” 

‘It’s because he smokes Eddie’s weed.’

Everyone knows the ‘King of the Party Kids’ really loves to enjoy himself. Doesn’t matter where, when, or how. Joey has been living with Nat and her mom for years, so their relationship is more like annoyed siblings than cousins. 

“You only say that because he’s family. Anyway! Both of us have already seen it so that just leaves you. I’m serious, that movie was so good! It’s a rom-com with Ringwald that I think you would really like. Maybe you could ask Munson to go with you as a date. Chick flicks are a litmus test to tell if a guy is worth your time. If he’s won’t set aside his machismo to sit through one, then kick him to the curb.” She says the last few words darkly, narrowing her eyes at them. 

‘I doubt Eddie would give me a hard time over a rom-com. I’m not asking him out on a date, though. No way.’

“...I’ll think about it.”

‘Damn, that’s loud.’

Shutting the door as quietly as humanly possible, he turns to see the figure laying across the folding bed set up in the middle of their living room. His uncle. Snoring away on that uncomfortable piece of crap he’s resigned himself to. The weekends are the only time the old man gets to sleep during the night. Other days, he’d be at the plant, working his ass off to keep them afloat. 

Pursing his lips, Eddie heads straight for the bedroom. One day. One day, he’s going to make it up to Wayne. For everything. If the band takes off and money starts rolling in, his uncle can permanently retire. Just kick back with a beer and enjoy those sports games he likes. No more putting his body through the wringer to take care of a good-for-nothing nephew who only causes him trouble.

Stepping into the dark room, he groans and begins turning on the lamps around the place. There’s a routine. Take shit off, put shit away, and show some love to his Warlock as he hangs her up above the desk. They had one hell of a battle earlier and came out on top. Of course they would. The two of them together are an unstoppable force. 

“You did great, sweetheart. Really showed ‘em who’s the baddest around.” Kissing his fingers, they caress the strings of the guitar before moving on. 

‘Let’s see how I did.’

It was surprising when Donna handed over a wad of cash while getting ready to close up. He wasn’t expecting to leave with anything. Not even the tips from playing the role of bartender off and on. The whole point of doing a shift was to make up for being a huge jerk on Tuesday. Yet she insisted on him accepting the money, giving him two options to choose from: take it and say thanks or have a boot shoved up his ass. That wasn’t a hard choice. 

“Nice." The side of his mouth quirks up from seeing the bills in his wallet. There’s at least a few Jacksons and Hamiltons. They can be counted and separated into the budget tins later. Right now, he’s still wound up from the bar. Nothing a doob won’t fix. 

‘Guess I’ll take it outside.’

Wayne can’t stand the smell of weed and with his luck, the old guy will get up to take a piss at the wrong time. 

Eddie plops down on the side of his bed and grabs his personal stash from the nightstand to roll a fat one up for himself. What a friggin’ day. It might’ve been one of the best he’s had in a while. Hanging out with Chrissy, racing around in a sports car, making money, showing up a dumbass, and getting cheered on stage. Great all around. Can’t really complain. 

Something catches his eye while getting out the rolling papers. Glancing over, they narrow on the brightly colored tie laying on top of his tan blanket. It’s hard to miss in this room. Chrissy’s light blue scrunchie. The one he pulled out of her hair earlier when they were smoochin’. 

A hand shoots out to snatch the hair tie up, as if it might disappear if he’s not quick enough. His fingers pinch the bunched-up fabric covering the elastic band, giving it a few tugs before curiously bringing it up to his nose. 

‘Smells like her.'

It took a couple of weeks, but he finally figured it out. The word for the sweet fragrance that’s been eluding him. Actually, that’s bull since he kinda cheated. She let him use the shower and there were almost a dozen bottles of stuff in there. That helped in the search. 

Plums. 

Chrissy smells like a mix of plums and her own unique scent. 

“Mine, now.” Eddie snorts, twirling it around his finger. If she asks for it back, then fine. What he does next is the first thing that comes to mind. Gathering up his hair and using her scrunchie to tie it all back.

Dark eyes tear themselves from the broken-up buds on top of the nightstand to the other edge of the mattress. Christ. That really happened. What he wouldn’t do to see that cute little ass bent over the side of the bed again. Yeah, one fatty isn’t gonna cut it. That’s not nearly enough to wind him down. 

‘I should use that money to get some new sheets. Maybe a few more pillows. There’s gotta be somewhere in this town that sells ‘em for cheap besides the thrift store.’

While rolling up a few joints, his brow furrows from looking down beside him. This bed is old. It was Wayne’s until he moved in and belonged to someone else before that. There’s no telling how used it actually is. Same with the sheets. They were bought from a secondhand shop right after he came to live with him. 

At least the blanket was already laid out when she came over this time. He didn’t have to rush around to hide anything. But if they’re going to be hangin’ in here more now that Mr. C’s back, it’s in his best interest to deal with this. Everything is dingy and covered in stains. The sheet alone is so worn that the faded butterflies and ferns could pass for more grimy splotches. 

What a great way to kill the mood. Eddie can see it now. They start makin’ out on the bed, maybe move under the covers to get a little hot and heavy, then Chrissy notices how grody his shit is. Most chicks would dry up like the Sahara the moment their eyes landed on that. She might even think he’s a pisspot. 

‘No fucking way. I’d rather die.’

There’s nothing much to do about that eyesore of a mattress, but he can try to make it less noticeable. Yep. That’ll be his next mission. Find a new sheet set and get a couple extra pillows. 

“Done.” Slipping one of the joints behind his ear, the rest are stuffed into a cigarette container as he gets ready to drag himself back outside. Eddie pauses for a moment when going past the desk. Stopping to stare at the Epiphone Olympic Double next to his Peavy amp. The first electric guitar he ever got. The same one that was used for the band’s ‘debut performance’ at the middle school talent show. This did him well before getting his hands on the BC Rich Warlock. 

It’s a little disappointing, but Chrissy didn’t have much of a reaction to seeing it. Same as when he tugged the front of his shirt down in the forest. A sliver of him was waiting for that moment of realization. Hoping for it, even. Nope. She gazed at them curiously and that’s all. 

Expecting her to remember stuff from six years ago is stupid. She’s made comments before about his memory being really good compared to hers. It could be for the best. Not all of it was great. He made an ass out of himself a few times, during and after the show. 

Still, Eddie can’t help thinking that perhaps it just didn’t matter as much to her. That he might be the only one who walked away with something back then.                                                                

.............

May 1980.

“I don’t think they loved it.” Gareth breathes out, wiping the sweat from his brow as they finish helping him pack up the drum set. There’s no attempt to hide his disappointment. Same with Jeff and Grant. They were so excited to go out there and show off their hard work. 

Truth be told, so was he. That was the first time they played in front of a crowd and it was terrifying. Totally different from having some of the guys’ parents or Wayne watch them. 

Signing up for the talent show seemed really lame. Still, he figured this was the perfect chance to get some experience performing and get their name out there. Any exposure is better than no exposure. This is just another step on their long journey to the top. 

“Forget them. Those squares wouldn’t know good music if it walked right up and kicked ‘em in the teeth.” He tsks, squeezing the guitar strap across his chest. “We kicked ass out there.” 

“Hell yeah we did!” Jeff nudges Grant in the side, getting a small grin out of him. 

It’s not their fault the stuffy people in the auditorium have no taste. The lights over the seats were dimmed down, but he could see the faces in the crowd. All the parents, family members, friends, teachers. The reaction wasn’t that bad. They weren’t booed or had stuff thrown at them, which is what he was kinda expecting. 

“Did you see Coleman’s face? He looked ready to go ballistic when you slid across the stage and sprayed out water.” Gareth adds enthusiastically, slipping his drumsticks into their bag. The disappointment from the lukewarm reaction melts away as the group jumps into recanting their favorite moments out there. 

Eddie can’t resist smirking deviously. Yeah, that sure took people off guard. It wasn’t planned. His inner showman couldn’t resist after his eyes landed on the Dixie cup he put off to the side before starting. Another already chewed him out the moment they finished. He’ll probably get slapped with a detention slip again Monday morning. 

‘There’s a few more acts left before the show is over. Gives me some time to enjoy this before they lay into me. If I’m lucky, it’ll blow over.’

The backstage area isn’t nearly as crowded as it was before. Some of the kids who already performed are hanging out in the hallway or snuck off out of boredom now that they’re done. Along the row of chairs against the back wall, there’s over a handful of students left waiting for their turn with a couple of teachers watching over everything. 

“Oh, sweetheart!” A woman in an orange shift dress bounds up the steps and rushes over to them, overflowing with joy. “You did such a great job!” Her arms wrap around Grant’s neck and yank him in for a big hug, turning his face a bright shade of red. 

“Mom!” They can’t help snickering at his dilemma. The two look so similar, it’s almost uncanny. Like seeing an older Grant in a dress and wig hugging himself. 

“Hush now. Let your momma be proud of her son.” She says warmly before glancing over at the other three. “You boys, too. All of you really knocked it out of the park.” 

Grant’s mom isn’t the only parent coming to the backstage area to see their kid instead of watching the rest of the show. Jeff’s are standing at the bottom of the steps, waving him over. And just like that, he takes off. Then the big guy with his mom eventually heads the same way, leaving only him with Gareth. That doesn’t last long until he suggests sneaking out to go to the corner store for snacks.

“Nah, man. I’m good. Still gotta get my stuff together. I’ll catch you later.” He points to the guitar hanging down his back and shrugs. 

“Okay. Suit yourself.” 

Tearing his gaze away from Gareth’s retreating back, it slowly drifts across the wide open space that was once full. There’s no one left back here that he’d actually talk to or who’d want to chat with him. Only a couple of younger kids and a few from his grade. Good. That’s perfect right now. 

He sighs and finds the chair his case is hidden under. Not very well, but whatever. No reason to make it easier for the jerks hanging around to mess with it. He gently props the guitar up against the wall beside him and flops down on the seat with a huff. 

‘Dammit.’

Everyone’s parents are here to show support and cheer them on, except for his. There’s no mom or dad waiting at the bottom of the stairs for him or in the audience. No grandparents to pinch his cheeks or siblings to joke around with or snotty cousins to pretend they have way better stuff to do than this. It’s just him. His uncle might be here but this is when he’d usually be sleeping for work. He told him not to bother. This would only be an extra pain. 

‘Wayne always tries to act like he’s my dad anyways. I got an old man and it’s not him.’

“Hi!” 

Eddie jolts in his seat when a small figure bounces over and hops in the chair beside him. Turning slowly, he notices the uniform first. White, blue, and yellow. Their school’s colors. Then the large bow set neatly on top of a nest of loose curls. His brows shoot up when he finally looks at the girl's face.

‘Chrissy?!’

Right away, he glances around to see if there’s anyone close by she might’ve been talking to instead. There isn’t. Over half a dozen seats on either side are empty. Nope, it’s just the two of them here. 

“H-Hey…” It comes out so awkwardly that he wants to fling himself right off the stage onto the hard-tiled floor. In front of everyone. 

“I saw you guys play out there. It was really cool! Especially the part where you were playing by yourself. That was so fast! Oh, and when you spit water everywhere. And—” She has such a huge smile that it leaves him stunned. He’s a few paces behind, still trying to figure out why this girl is even sitting here, let alone talking to him. 

‘Does she mean my solo? She thinks it was cool?’

“Yeah?” There’s not much else to do at the moment other than gawk at the cheerleader carrying on excitedly about his performance. It’s throwing him through a loop. The sudden praise is making his ears and neck burn something fierce. He’s not sure what to do, but that doesn’t stop him from being suspicious. Every few seconds, his eyes shift away from her to scan the area, almost waiting to find a group of preps peering around a corner, cackling like a bunch of hyenas. 

“Totally! By the way, I’m Chrissy C—”

“I know who you are.” Everyone in school knows who Chrissy Cunningham is. The bubbly sixth grader that joined the cheerleading team. Rich, sweet, and a real girly girl. Quickly became part of the popular crowd. Yada yada. The whole shebang. He’s only seen her in passing since eighth-grade classes are on the other side of the building, but… 

‘She’s wicked cute.’

That was his first thought when seeing Chrissy during the year’s first pep rally. And the one after that. The one they had a couple of weeks ago, too. Also when a few members of the cheer team did a special routine earlier in the talent show. Honestly, it was pretty sick. Watching this chick doing flips before landing into a complete split caused the band to wince in pain. Gnarly stuff, for sure. 

“Oh. That makes things easier then. So, what’s your name?” The interruption before didn’t seem to put her off. She just leans forward, staring at him with those big blue eyes while swinging her feet back and forth. 

“Eddie… Van Halen.” He inwardly cringes at the lie that slipped out. Well, what are the chances she’d know who that is? None of the preps probably do. 

“Van Halen? That’s neat. Mine’s kind of boring.” 

“Cunningham? Boring? No way. Sounds fancy, like you live in a lavish manor.” The kind that has candelabras, endless halls, secret rooms, and servants. That’s how it is in some of his books. The aristocrats always have richie–type names similar to hers. Wouldn’t be too surprising if that was true. Most of the popular kids have parents who bring in major dough. 

“Mm… I guess.” She tilts her head to look past him, noticing the guitar leaning up against the wall. “You’re really good at that. Did it take long to learn? Is it hard?”

“Nah. Picked it up maybe two months ago. I was bored and figured it might be fun.” More lies. Big ol’ fat lies. His uncle gave him that guitar two years ago and he’s barely put it down since. 

“Seriously?! Only two months? Wow! You must be super talented. One of those natural born geniuses.” Those ridiculously big eyes somehow get even wider and Eddie’s sure they’re gonna pop out of their sockets any second now. Looking at them makes him feel guilty. She’s eating up his bogus story. There isn’t a hint of doubt in sight. “Do you play anything else? I wanted to take piano lessons before, but never went through with it.”

“Haven’t tried to.” This girl is making his palms sweat. Wiping them on his pant leg, he watches as she suddenly hops off the chair and walks over to his guitar. The pint-sized cheerleader crouches down, staring at it curiously. That really puts him on edge. Then a small hand reaches out toward it. “Hold up! Don’t touch that.” 

Chrissy gasps, yanking the hand back and clutching it to her chest. Totally startled, like a deer caught in the headlights. “Sorry. Right. I’m not supposed to touch things that aren’t mine.”

“I just… I don’t like people messing with my things. They end up getting broken.” Jumping to his feet, he drags out the case from under the chair to put his guitar away. There was a more bite than intended. “No offense.” 

“It’s okay. I should’ve asked first.” Instead of running off or getting upset, she sits back on the seat next to his. Quietly playing with the hem of the blue and white skirt the cheer team wears. 

‘What the hell. I’m not wrong but this is making me feel bad. I don’t like it.’

Eddie nips at the inside of his lip while snapping the latches shut, glancing from the case to the girl a few feet away. That bummed her out. It’s just that he doesn’t trust preps. Most of them are cruel and rotten. Spoiled. Nasty. Get their kicks from picking on the underdogs and losers. Nothing but a bunch of bullies with inflated egos thanks to their snobby parents. 

But Chrissy isn’t the same as them. She’s not the witch in homeroom who stole his sketchbook and gave it to the teacher to get him in trouble. Or the asshole in social studies that slapped a huge wad of gum in his hair when he tried to grow it out. That caused a fistfight he got suspended for and to top it all off, Wayne had to buzz his head. 

No, this chick is nice. He could already tell. It’s better to be safe than sorry though. 

“In that cheer thing you did earlier… doesn’t it hurt to do a split like that? I would’ve died.” To his relief, her face lights up at the question. She quickly dives into a lengthy explanation of their routines, practice, stretching, and whatnot. Chattering on enthusiastically before asking about his band. Have they been doing it long? Why Corroded Coffin? Where did that come from? 

“I, uh, don’t remember. We probably thought sounded cool.” He looks away, rubbing the back of his neck. Nope. Not going there. This will come up again, so they’re gonna need an interesting story to tell. “Well, it is what it is. That’s what we’re goin’ with.”

“Huh. I guess that part isn’t too important. Still, with a name like that, people will definitely remember you guys. It’s different and kind of catchy.”

“You think?”

The longer they talk, the more relaxed he finds himself becoming. This isn’t a prank or some elaborate scheme to make a fool out of him. That was a dumb thought. It’s the only thing that made sense to him. Why would a preppy girl go out of her way to shoot the shit with some loser? They’re not even in the same grade or share any classes. 

“I’ll get to see you on the Tonight Show or Ed Sullivan. Ooh! There’s also Bandstand, Good Morning America, and Night Tracks. Or, um… the other ones.” She giggles and shrugs, pulling a Marathon bar out of her skirt pocket. The teachers let everyone taking part in the talent show pick out one earlier from a large box. “You’ll be the first person from Hawkins to become famous. How awesome is that?”

He’s taken aback by that response. Telling people his plans for the future is usually met with the same kind of reaction. A whole bunch of doubt and attempts to change his mind. To pick a more ‘realistic’ path. Being a trashman or joining a chain gang, something along those lines. Wayne is supportive, but has that skeptical look he’s gotten used to. Sure, his band making it big is a long shot. Who cares? That’s his dream. End of story. 

For once, that didn’t happen. This girl is acting as if it’s written in the stars. Like Corroded Coffin will shoot to the top. Her face and voice… Same as with his lies. There’s no sign of disbelief. Just a ridiculous amount of optimism while saying things so confidently. 

“Yeah, crazy awesome.” He stares at the cheerleader, unable to take his eyes off her. So it’s true. She actually is sweet. Gossip and reputations can be a load of crap. There’s plenty of assholes that folks say are nice kids, meanwhile, they’re giving nerds swirlies in the bathroom and stuffing geeks into lockers. When someone is one of the many flavors of ‘loser’, they get to see what others are really like. 

‘Hmm…’

That’s it. Eddie gets it now. What draws people to her. Why even kids in his grade want to kick it with a sixth grader. And it’s more than the surface-level stuff that caught his attention when the school year started. 

Chrissy is a little ball of sunshine. Just bopping around and coming in to brighten the place up. He was sulking about his situation. Once they started chatting, that was quickly shoved into the background. Perhaps she saw him sitting by himself and did this out of pity. Or his guitar skills legit impressed her, and she had to let him know. Both could be true. Either way, the result is the same. 

‘I hope she stays here with me longer.’

………….

The second door to the trailer is just as rickety as the main one. He closes it carefully to not wake Wayne up as he steps out onto the porch. It’s late as hell. Already after two in the morning. Nothing out of the ordinary for him on a weekend. 

‘Pretty quiet out. Except for that annoying buzzing noise.’

Jumping off the side of the porch, Eddie trudges across the grass and dirt patches to the back of their place. It’s an open area with a few other trailers nearby. This way, the chance of running into another night owl drops considerably. Doesn’t seem like anyone else is taking a midnight stroll. Sweet. He grabs the joint tucked behind his ear and slides on his headphones, ready for some relief. 

Grass and music always do the trick.

The early hours suck the most. While others would normally be sleeping, his mind and body usually have very different plans. It’s always been this way. Even as a brat, his old man would say he was full of piss and vinegar. Sleep should come easily after a long day. Nope. Still wide awake on top of everything aching from the abuse he’s put himself through. Getting a boot to the ribs from Donna, duking it out with Carver, then constantly hopping around like he’s not hurt at all. A vic with some tramadol here and there helps but makes him more careless. 

“Fuck, man.” He lets the joint dangle from the corner of his lips, one hand lighting it while the other fumbles with a lawn chair folded up on the ground. Who knows who this belongs to. It’s property of his ass for the time being. Kicking back on the flimsy seat, he presses the play button on the old walkman and takes a big hit as the music starts.

‘Wish we were having a sleepover instead.’

Smoke pours into the chilly night air as Eddie drops his head back, looking up at the dark sky. Doesn’t matter if it’s here or at Cunningham Castle. He’s been spoiled recently. Getting to sleep in that huge bed with her... Now he wants more like a greedy boy. 

‘I wanna see her in one of those nightgowns.’

“Heh.” A big, stupid grin spreads across his face at the thought. Yeah. The light pink one with the flowers on it. Of all the sexy pieces in the bag, that piece screams ‘Chrissy’ the most to him. There’s also a sheer slip. It’s hard to imagine her walking out in that anytime soon. Not unless she gets real ballsy real fast. The thin fabric leaves nothing to the imagination. He’d see everything. 

Chrissy is a bit of a freak, though. A freaky little cheerleader who likes being spanked. This chick might be wilder than he originally assumed. The way she was eyeing his handcuffs and erotica said a lot, too. Seeing them was definitely a shock to her, but there was that unmistakable look of intrigue. 

Honestly, her reaction didn’t surprise him. That group isn’t very discreet. The jocks talk a lot. Loudly. Unfortunately for them, speakers haven’t blown out his eardrums yet. These bad boys have picked up so much dirt over the years, including plenty of shit he never wanted to know about people.

Those dudes are a herd of assholes in that department. Selfish, boring, lazy, always ready to pat themselves on the back for the bare minimum, and hypocritical as hell. Like how many of them want hummers all the time, but won’t go down on their girls because ‘that’s gross’. What a bunch of cowards. 

Eddie takes a few more hits while lying back, waiting for the familiar fog to envelop his mind. He wonders about it sometimes. What is Chrissy into? She probably hasn’t had many chances to dabble in much. Even with how predictable the jocks are, Golden Boy is the most strait-laced square of them all. That dude couldn’t be much fun. 

‘Now that Douchebag's out of the picture, she can start having real fun. I'd be down to help her with that.'

“Stop!” she screams at the top of her lungs. They won’t. One fist keeps flying after the other. Dark droplets litter the wooden boards of the porch and more keep raining down with each strike. “I said stop! You idiots!” 

Nothing is working. Not yelling, threatening to call the cops, or trying to break it up. She gets hollered at and pushed back with each futile attempt. They want to do this. These two are intent on beating each other to death. Only one can be left standing. 

“Please…” Chrissy covers her mouth and shakes, tearing up from the sense of helplessness taking over. She glances from Jason to Eddie and back, barely recognizing either person anymore. Eyes wide and angry, lips pulled back over their bared teeth, blood running down their faces and dripping everywhere. They’re closer to wild animals than men. Vicious, snarling animals eager to rip each other’s throats out. 

‘What should I do?! I… I can’t think straight.’

A better question is what can she do? Any plans to call the cops or get her dad’s gun from the safe to scare them apart have gone nowhere. The front door won’t open, no matter how hard she tries. Getting off the porch is impossible too. The moment her foot touches the steps, she somehow ends up right in the same spot. This must be some kind of punishment. Being forced to stand here and watch while they beat each other to a pulp. 

‘This is your fault.’  

“You ruined everything, you trailer trash piece of shit!” A fist crashes into Eddie’s face, causing him to stumble backward. Another gets him right on the side of his jaw and she shrieks at the cracking noise it makes. That did it. The shot that finally turned the tide. His back smacks against the front door and he falls over, dropping to the porch floor.

“Eddie!” As soon as she tries to run to him, she’s shoved away before even getting within feet of him by the blond-haired man now scowling at her. “Jason, please. I’m begging you. I’ll do anything you want! Just stop hurting him.”  

Useless. Weak. These skinny arms and legs. This short body. What good is it? 

“Not everything is about you, babe. Vanity is a sin.” He stares at Chrissy hard before shifting those daggers to the guy lying on his back, gasping for air. “This was inevitable.” Stepping closer to Eddie, he looks down at him with utter disdain. “Turn my eyes away from worthless things; revive me with Your word.” 

Jason’s foot comes up and smashes down onto his face. Stomping Eddie’s head into the wood panels over and over again. Everything becomes a blur. It doesn’t matter what happens to her now. She’s screaming and hitting and clawing at him. Too blinded by rage to realize what’s going on anymore. 

“Knock it off!” He grabs her hair, seizing a messy handful of it to regain control of the situation. Chrissy yelps, scratching furiously at his wrist to ease the pressure on her scalp. His fingers have an iron-tight grip on the roots. A single tug is all it takes to prove he can move her head any which way he pleases. “Do you think that’s doing anything? You’re just getting on my nerves.”

“I… hate… you.” Venom seeps through her clenched teeth as she slowly cranes her head back to throw him a murderous glare. For the first time, the urge to hurt someone is overwhelming. To cause another person so much pain, they would regret ever crossing paths with her. 

“Don’t blame me. You caused this. There are consequences for being a deceitful little harlot.” Jason clicks his tongue at the way she’s staring at him. “How did you think this would end? Honestly. Go on. Take a look. That’s what you wanted, right?” He jerks her head towards the man pummeled into the porch, but she can’t. “I said ‘look’, Chris. Open your eyes.” 

Chrissy squeezes them shut, too afraid to see it. She knows. The wheezing and rattling sounds coming from Eddie struggling to get air have already stopped. 

………

“Wake up. Hey. Oh, this sucks… Come on! Fine. You leave me no other choice.” A hushed voice carries on insistently as two hands keep shaking her. “Uh-oh! Kimmy’s getting ready to shave your head. Better get up now to stop her or you’ll be bald. B-A-L-D.”

Blue eyes crack open to see a face hovering only inches away. “Ah!” It takes a moment to calm down and realize who it is. Natalie. A friend. Not some grotesque creature trying to cause a heart attack. She sucks in a sharp breath, feeling the lump in her throat and wetness across her face. 

‘It was a dream. Just another bad dream. Thank God.’

“Are you alright?”

“Y-Yeah.” Chrissy struggles to sit up, still not all there and having a hard time gathering her bearings. That’s right. Girl’s night. She glances around as the surroundings come into focus. The TV was left on after watching a movie, lighting up the large family room. The rest of the team are sleeping soundly across the carpet. Loud snoring from the left draws her attention. It’s Charlotte with those huge curlers in her hair. 

‘Everything’s okay. None of that happened. Eddie’s fine. He’s good. What a relief.’

“Your nose!” Natalie lets out a low gasp. Despite being startled, she’s trying not to wake the others. 

“Oh.” Great. Another nosebleed. That slipped her mind when agreeing to a sleepover. It would’ve been smart to bring along a pack of tissues for this. The covers fall to the floor as she gets to her feet and staggers through the family room. Natalie hops up too, walking alongside her as they maneuver around the bodies and snack bowls in their path. 

Thankfully, the Amatos have a bathroom right down the hall. The two quickly head to it and close the door behind them, locking it. She rushes over to the sink to wash the mess away. That horrifying dream still has her shaken up. It felt so real. They all do. But Eddie’s okay. He’s probably relaxing at home. Not lying in a puddle of blood on her porch. 

‘I’m so upset. I wish I could see him right now or just talk for a few minutes. It’s way too late. I don’t have his number memorized, either.’

“Hey, Chris? Are you okay?” The redhead leans back against the bathroom wall, staring at her in the mirror. 

No. Not at all. Chrissy’s known that for a long time now. Gazing up at her own reflection makes that clear, too. On top of looking pale, her eyes are all pink and puffy from crying, and there’s a small bit of blood still leaking from her nose. 

“Sorry if I woke you up.” Sighing, she sits down on the toilet, grabbing some tissue to take care of this little dilemma. It had to happen tonight, huh? What luck. Nat was sleeping right next to her. This sucks. She feels awful for waking her up. “I was having a bad dream.” 

“I could tell. You were making weird noises and like… shaking? Shivering? I don’t know. It freaked me out though.” That’s news. A person won’t know if they do anything unusual in their sleep unless someone else tells them. Has this happened before? “By the way, you should lean forward when you have a nosebleed. My mom said tilting your head back will make the blood go down into your stomach. Also, don’t pack it. Just hold the tissue under it and maybe pinch the bottom, but not the bridge. Don’t blow it either.”

“Got it." Darn. That’s what people always say to do. Natalie’s mom works in the medical field, so it’s better to listen to her. “Thanks. I didn’t know any of that.” 

‘I wonder how much blood has gone into my stomach? Can you get sick from that?’

“You never answered my question. And does this happen a lot? You didn’t seem surprised when I told you.” 

The two stare at each other and the room goes quiet. Only the sound from the TV down the hall can be heard in the background. She isn’t sure how to answer. This goes beyond the barriers she set up to keep herself safe. Out of her regular friend group, Nat and Charlotte have gone the furthest. Way ahead of everyone else is Eddie and even he doesn’t know about the nosebleeds, nightmares, and terrible things that have tormented her. 

Hopefully, he never will. 

Chrissy lets out an even longer sigh than before, finally breaking eye contact with her. Today was so much fun. Did it have to end on a bad note? It doesn’t seem like Nat intends on dropping this either. Not from the look on her face.

“I’m pretty sure I am. It happened a few times recently. That’s why it wasn’t surprising. I have a doctor’s appointment Monday for it, so I guess we’ll see.” She pulls the tissue away to see if the bleeding has stopped. So far, so good. Nothing new. “It’s probably something silly like I’m lying in bed the wrong way or accidentally whacking myself in my sleep.” 

“Mm.” Staring down at her socks on the tiled floor, the redhead slowly nods, taking the information in. “Okay. I hope nothing’s wrong. If there is, you’d tell me… right?”

‘Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong. Something’s wrong.’

“Of course.” She gives her a warm smile as reassurance. “Can this stay between us? No one else knows. I don’t want the others worrying over nothing.” 

“I won’t. What happens in a girl’s bathroom stays in a girl’s bathroom.”

Spring is almost here. Buds are sprouting. The grass is greener. Even the air smells different. The season of new beginnings never sounded better. 

Moving through the last row of trees, Chrissy steps out into the open area. What a sight. A small smile passes over her lips before sucking in a big gulp of fresh air. That’s more like it. Once again, she understands why Eddie comes to this place. It’s quiet. Peaceful. Somewhere a person can relax and unwind. 

‘He has good taste.’

There are plenty of spots near Lover’s Lake to hang out at. This one seems like the best. A perfect view of the water that’s further away from the nearby houses and boats. It takes a bit of walking to get to but is worth it. 

Her eyes dance along the sea of trees across the way and over the water’s surface. The noon sun shines brightly above it all. She tilts her head back, letting the warm rays wash over her. So nice. This needs to happen more often. 

It’s such a beautiful day out. A thick patch of grass is chosen as the final destination for this little excursion. She sets her bag down and unzips it, pulling out the items she brought along. Drinks, a few light snacks, and an anthology of super steamy romance stories courtesy of Charlotte. 

‘I can’t believe I’m going to read this.’ 

She’d take this over the other suggestions to sate her growing curiosity. It doesn’t hurt anyone and can be done privately. The conversation yesterday that resulted in the book being lent out began innocently enough and quickly went down a very different path. 

……….

“Weren’t we supposed to be giving advice on something?” The three look at each other, trying to remember where this even started. “That’s right. You were saying something about Munson bending you over and giving you a good one. Yep, and how you were too shy to check out his equipment.”

“Oh my God! I didn’t say it like that.” Her face heats up for the hundredth time today. Charlotte can’t help herself, can she? At least the upbeat mood is back. “Well, maybe that’s true. This probably sounds silly, but I’m a little scared to go any further.” 

“Is it like with Jason or different?” Natalie quirks a brow, crossing her legs. 

“No, totally different. I’m actually kind of… excited? But also afraid? Like, there’s a part of me that’s super curious and wants to see what the big deal is. Then the other is full of guilt and these things I wish would go away. It’s dumb. I feel like a hypocrite for telling Jason we had to wait to get married, yet here I am thinking about this stuff with someone I haven’t even had a single date with.” 

“Chris,” Crawling over, the brunette slaps her hands onto Chrissy’s shoulders and leans in close. “It’s okay to change your mind. That doesn’t make you a hypocrite. You don’t owe anyone anything. Some of us were majorly harsh about it before. Forget all that. It was stupid. There’s nothing wrong with doing things at your own pace.”

“Someone’s been reading their dad’s books again.”

“Yeah, and? They’ve come in handy plenty of times. Where’s your advice, oh helpful one?”

“Okay, fine.” Natalie lays down on her side to look around Charlotte’s back, who’s blocking her view, getting comfy. “So unlike with Jason, you’re kind of excited to take a bite of the forbidden fruit with the, uh… Munson. What are you actually afraid of? Rolling around with someone you’re not going out with? The ‘waiting until marriage’ guilt trap? People finding out? What is it?”

“I guess a little of everything? It’s also that Eddie’s an older guy. He knows a lot about ‘things’, like traffic lights. I have no idea what I’m doing.” There is some shame lingering from all the years at church. That’s only a small portion, though. Most of it comes down to insecurity. “I’m worried about him being let down. I doubt he’d say anything, but—”

“Traffic lights?”

“I don’t know. Must be code for something.”

“That’s not the important part, guys.” Chrissy breathes out, running her fingers through the ponytail hanging over her shoulder. “I’m not sure what to do. I keep thinking he’s just going to be disappointed. Like, with me not knowing much, and I’m practically flat and—”

“Let me stop you right there, missy. He’s not going to get your shirt off and be like ‘oh, damn. I was really hoping she was hiding double D’s in there somewhere’, okay? Guys aren’t completely dumb. What he sees is what he gets. Everyone has to start somewhere, right? If you’re that worried about impressing him with some sexy skills, we have options.” 

‘Charlotte is right. Eddie wouldn’t be shocked. He already knows. There’s no hiding it, especially in my cheer uniform.’

“What do you mean we have options?”

“Well, we’re both eighteen—sorry Nat—with licenses and a car. We could always go to one of those nightclubs outside of town so you can meet people and practice. Maybe in Indianapolis or another town away from here to keep this hush-hush. It doesn’t have to be anything crazy. You can start out small until you get your footing. Flirt with some guys, find one that’s not a total slimeball, have some kind of no-strings-attached arrangement. That happened in one of my books and it was spicy.”

“Are you nuts? That’s a terrible idea!” Smacking a hand on the floor, Natalie sits up and glares at Charlotte. “I don’t mean to sound like a spoilsport, but I’d rather not see either of you on the evening news.” 

Chrissy rubs her temples as the two begin bickering again. Natalie’s right, though. A lot could go wrong with that suggestion. She’s not exactly sure what she even wants yet. This is just a little curiosity. That’s all. There are other ways of figuring stuff out that don’t involve meeting up with strangers. 

"I, uh… I'd rather it just be with me.”

While they were talking about her plan to start up a spanking enterprise on the nicer side of town, Eddie said some things that she couldn’t ignore. He’d rather it only be with him. Even if a bunch of women were outside of the trailer, he doesn’t want them. And she’s his first ‘victim’. That would be weird to lie about, so there’s no reason to doubt it. 

“Good. That’s the most important part. If both sides don’t trust each other, things can go to shit real fast.”

‘He trusts me… and I trust him.’

“I was being a butthurt, jealous asshole.”

“Mmm. I don’t think Eddie would appreciate that.” Would a person who admitted that be okay with her messing around with other guys, even if it was to gain experience for him? If the situation was flipped, she’d be pretty unhappy to find out he was using girls as practice to impress her. That’s not cool. 

“If he’s not going to ask you out, then he can’t get upset if you start talking to people. That’s how this works.”

“That could change. There’s no telling what will happen tomorrow or in a week.” Chrissy says softly, glancing down at her nails. Look at all that went on since her party last Saturday. “Besides, if I’m going to do anything, I’d rather it be with someone I’m comfortable around. That’s not for me.” 

Charlotte regards her for a moment before smirking. “It’s alright. I didn’t think you would, but figured I'd throw that idea out there anyway. Okay, we have plenty of options left. I have some hot romance novels I ‘borrowed’ from my mom. She has lots of them. There’s also that adult shop on Prospect I’ve seen a few times. They probably have some interesting stuff for research. Oh! I’m such an idiot! I could show you. Why didn’t I think of that before!”

“W-What?!” She gawks at her before turning to Natalie, who’s just as alarmed. 

“Yeah! Like, no duh! I fooled around with a couple of guys, so I have  plenty of expert advice to give. Jesus, how could I be so narrow-minded? The answer was here all along. Me! Listen Chris, between the two of us—” She points to the horrified junior inching towards Chrissy for safety “—we can teach you all the tips and tricks we know. Munson will be so blown away, he’ll fall to his knees in worship every time his eyes land on you.” 

“Exactly how are you planning on pulling that off?” 

“Easy, Nat. Through the power of words, diagrams, and a demonstration. We have a bundle of bananas in the kitchen and they’re not ripe yet. Don’t give me that look! I don’t mean doing anything nasty with them. I’m saying I can use them to point things out since they kind of look similar to… you know. Peckers.” Hopping to her feet, Charlotte rushes to the bedroom door before pausing to glance back at them. “One minute. I’ll be quick, then we can get started.”

………

Just thinking about what followed is making her face red again. Apart from the endless laughter and jokes, Charlotte actually had a lot of interesting tidbits to share. Far more informative than any sex-ed class at school. There’s so much to learn aside from the obvious, especially when it comes to a man’s body.

Where they like to be touched. How. What parts are more sensitive. Different things to expect. 

“The first time always sucks. It hurts and is really messy. If you go into this thinking it’ll be some beautiful experience, you’re going to be disappointed.” 

It’s not like she’s completely ignorant. Plenty of girls talk about messing around. They usually say something similar to Charlotte about the first time. That sounds awful. From what she’s gathered, it seems like sex is geared more toward guys. The act only lasts as long as they do. If their partner doesn’t ‘get off’ in the meantime, that’s on them to deal with afterward. 

Chrissy sighs while staring out at the lake. If things end up going further with Eddie at some point, she won’t regret it. Even if they never become anything more than ‘fun buddies’, that’s okay. A person doesn’t have to be in a relationship or love someone to explore that side of themselves. She was close to doing it with Jason. Big mistake. This won’t be. He’s a good guy who actually listens, and wouldn’t hold it over her head. Isn’t that enough? 

‘I’d rather it be with him than anyone else I know.’

It’s time to do things for herself. Enjoy life. Experiment. Screw up a bit. Have fun. Make plans. All the bad and scary stuff only reinforces the need to cling to the good with everything she has. 

This is where it begins. Forget attending IU Bloomington in the fall. Not happening. It’s decided. No one can make her go. The dream of opening up a dance studio someday isn’t dead. If anything, it’s revived. Now she has a car and can start taking lessons again. There’s a lot to talk to Ms. Kelly about on Tuesday. Also, her dad. He’ll be livid. Oh well. If he’s not okay with it, she’ll get a job and save up to move out. 

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want. There’s always a way out. Other options. Even if it means having it rough for a while. Whether it’s being with Douchebag or staying in Hawkins at all, you have a choice.”

His words from that day make a lot more sense now. She’s beginning to understand what he meant. There is a way out. It’s not the end of the world. None of this will be easy, but it’s worth a shot. 

Stretching her legs out across the soft blades of grass, Chrissy leans back to bask in the sunlight. The birds chirping and the rhythmic sounds of water gently lapping against the shoreline are calming. How serene. Is this what it feels like to be content? No, it’s more than that. There’s a genuine sense of excitement about the next stage of her life and moving forward. 

“Okay!” She looks over the book in her hands. A beautiful woman in a billowy dress graces the cover. Of course in the embrace of a large, muscular man with a flowing dark mane riding a horse. The hero in the throes of a daring rescue to save his lady from whatever dared to separate them. 

‘Hehe. So cheesy.’

This is a collection of historical romance short stories. Or ‘a trashy romance novel bored housewives read’, according to many people. Very different from her usual picks. It’s the sexy scenes and details of romance she’s really interested in. These are known for characters falling desperately in love before eventually getting their happy ending. 

‘Let’s see if these are any good.’

Chapter Text

‘I hope this isn’t a huge mistake…’

Chrissy lets out a deep breath while looking at the enormous house ahead. Yep, this probably isn’t a great idea. Another one of her brilliant plans. It feels necessary. They have some unfinished business that needs to be taken care of. 

The Jeep’s here, but the Lincoln’s nowhere in sight. It’s Sunday. Mr. and Mrs. Carver would be at the evening service or one of those little gatherings they have afterward. Her family used to go to them every week. At least, when her mother was still alive. 

Stepping onto the porch, she nervously chews on the inside of her lip before ringing the doorbell. So many different scenarios of how this might play out keep swirling in her head. On the way over and while standing here. Also, what actually went down that night. The things they said to each other… His fight with Eddie… A cop showing up. How she humiliated herself. None of it should’ve ever happened. 

‘Maybe he went with them to church?’

She debates leaving and trying again later when noticing movement behind the decorative sidelight window. A moment passes then the front door cracks open. “What are you doing here?” The voice is low and gravelly like he just woke up from a nap. Only a sliver of his face is visible, so it’s hard to get a good look at him. 

“I, um… I wanted to see how you were doing. You didn’t come to school Friday.” 

“I wonder why.” He replies sarcastically, opening the door the rest of the way. It takes every bit of self-control to keep herself in check. No wonder Mr. and Mrs. Carver went to church without him. Everyone and their mother would chirp about this. “Go ahead. You don’t have to hold it in. Laugh. Don’t mind me.” 

“Why would I laugh about this?” She scrunches up her face at the remark. What makes him think this is something she’d find funny? His nose is still swollen and discolored. It’s obvious even with a bandage across the bridge, covering most of it. The bruising spread out beneath his eyes. And the left side of his jaw wasn’t spared either. “Was it broken?” Remembering the crunching sound from Eddie’s headbutt is making her stomach twist. 

Those will take weeks to completely heal. In all the years they have known each other, she’s never seen him this bad off. Athletes deal with bruising, sore muscles, and even injuries here and there. That’s nothing new. But this? Only in some rare or extremely unlucky circumstances. 

“No. If that blockhead had any more room, it might’ve been a clean break.” Jason grumbles and steps out onto the porch, closing the door behind him. How strange. It hasn’t even been a week since they broke up. There’s an enormous distance between them, figuratively. As if they haven’t seen each other in years and are now different people. To an extent, that might be true. “He’s lucky I was drunk. None of that would've happened.”

‘It must really be eating at him that Eddie wasn’t easy pickings.’

“You’re both lucky neither of you died or ended up in jail. A cop showed up at my house after you left. One of the neighbors called.”

“Of course they did. It was probably that old bag across the street.” He snorts, walking to the edge of the porch and sitting down. A hand reaches out to pat the spot next to him. She hesitates for a few seconds but does it anyway. The whole reason for coming over was to talk. It’s just that she didn’t want to fall into an obedient role again. 

‘This is uncomfortable.’

She stares down at her feet hanging off the porch, tapping them together to distract herself from the awkward silence. Now that they’re together in person, all the lines she prepared went right out the window. A small part of her is still overly anxious. The meek part that always backed down and was worried about making him upset. Another is hurting from everything he’s said and done until this point. 

‘Remember what you came for, dweeb… Take care of this.’

“So, how are you? I mean physically? Are you going to be out of the championships?” 

“Nothing’s broken. My parents have been on my case and making me stick to a strict schedule. It’s all meds, hot baths, compresses, ice packs on top of some bland diet and too much sleep... They’re relentless. Anything to get me back into the game as soon as possible.” He tugs down the bottom of his shirt with a huff. “I’ll have to miss this week, but depending on what the doctor says Friday, I might be back in. Good thing the next two are against pansies we always beat.” 

That’s exactly what she figured Mr. and Mrs. Carver would do in a situation like this. They have two away games this week. One on Monday, the next on Friday. The Tigers haven’t lost against either school in the last three years. Without a regular captain though, that might change. A substitute just isn’t the same.

“That’s good. Hopefully your appointment goes well.” She fiddles with the zipper on her jacket, wondering if any of this will even help. All they’re doing is having a faux polite conversation while holding back the things they really want to say. 

“Is that your car?” 

“Yeah. A birthday present from my dad.” That’s right. As far as Jason’s concerned, she had no way of getting around without asking for help. He didn’t even know about her taking the driving test when they were still together. 

More silence. It’s grating on the nerves. This was her idea, yet bringing up the topic is proving to be more challenging than she assumed. Stealing little glances at him doesn’t help. He’s lost in thought, staring out across the front property. 

“We need to talk. With the championsh—”

“Figured. I knew there was another reason besides—”

“Do not cut me off. You always do that and I don’t like it.” Chrissy says firmly, forcing herself to look him right in the face. Good. Be shocked. She’s tired of getting walked all over. “As I was saying… The championship game is coming up soon. I want to finish out the season without a bunch of drama. This is our last year. Can we just try to make it work?” 

Both teams having drama with each other isn’t the only issue. The cheer squad is a confused, hurt mess right now. Last night they talked as a group and laid out their feelings about the Amber situation. It isn’t so cut and dry. Most of the team, especially the other juniors, have been close to her since she moved to Hawkins. 

From the other teammates’ perspectives, one good friend backstabbed another, who also happens to be their captain. For a boy, at that. A huge violation of the girl code. Naturally, everyone was upset. It put them in a weird position where they felt like they had to choose a side. That’s when Chrissy put her foot down. It’s a bad idea, especially for the underclassmen who will have Amber as their new squad leader soon. 

‘I still don’t get what’s going on with them. Maybe it’s none of my business. I’m the one who dumped Jason, but I can’t have this interfering with cheerleading. We’re going to have problems if she skips again.’

“What do you want from me, Chris? To pretend none of this happened? I’m angry. You screwed me over to shack up with the freak.”

“Who told you that?! You know what? Nevermind. It doesn’t matter. What I’m saying is that I want us to play nice and get this over with. No more fighting. No spreading weird rumors about the other… If you want to hate me for breaking things off, then fine. Just don’t involve my teammates or other people in it.” That nightmare from last night has been weighing heavily on her mind. Those two can’t fight again. She might be powerless in the dream world, but it’s a different story here. 

Jason regards her for a long moment. Lines form along his brow as he furrows and relaxes it, taking a bit to think things through. “I don’t hate you. It’s him I can’t stand. He just couldn’t resist hopping right between us back there. You don’t see him the way I do… The way I have from the start. He was looking for his big chance and you gave it to him.” 

‘Big chance for what? It’s not like Eddie pressured me to hang out with him or break up with you.’

“Okay. Well, I’m here now and he isn’t. Let’s talk this out. Not argue. Talk. But I don’t want to listen to you bashing him, even if you’re angry. That’ll only get me to leave faster.

They just have to finish out the season. At most, there are two and a half weeks left. It’s impossible to completely avoid him the entire time. She can’t have Amber not showing up to practice or games, either. If they can come to some agreement to at least be civil for now, that would be best for all of them.

“Chrissy!”

That must be a record. Barely fifteen seconds after walking through the door and it’s already starting. She didn’t even get a chance to kick off her shoes yet. This was bound to happen. The extra ten minutes spent in the Corvette to prepare herself weren’t for nothing. 

The familiar tapping of his dress shoes on the hardwood floor tells Chrissy that he’s coming down the hall from the study. And that tone makes it apparent this won’t be a casual conversation. It’s why she was reluctant to come home in the first place. 

‘This is going to suck.’

Stepping out into the foyer, he stops and lets out a big puff of air. His face is already a bit red. He runs a hand over it and into his neatly combed hair. “I don’t know where to even begin…” 

‘Uh-oh.’

Chrissy isn’t sure exactly just how much trouble she’s in right now. Is he so angry that he’s beyond the yelling stage? Maybe that would’ve been better. She grips the strap hanging from her shoulder and repeats the pep talk from earlier. Don’t be afraid. There are real things to fear and this isn’t one of them. If this goes south, it’s not the end of the world. 

“I thought I explicitly told you not to bring anyone over while I was gone, did I not?” His eyes narrow sharply while waiting for a response. All he gets is a hesitant nod. “Alright, so tell me why Nora saw someone coming in and out of here? It was some—some hoodlum with long hair. She said he had chains hanging off of him. Chains. And… And tattoos! Do you have any idea how humiliating it was to have our neighbors see something so unsightly—”

That’s it, huh? The older woman across the street tattled on her. Does he know any more than that? Maybe not. What happened with Jason would’ve been brought up immediately if he already heard. The ranting keeps going as she starts zoning out. Someone coming over isn’t the biggest issue here. It’s who came here and what people might say. The way he’s talking about Eddie is getting under her skin. 

‘I don’t care what the neighbors think. They should mind their own business for once.’

“Oh, no. Not the chains.” She snickers and tries to cover her mouth to hold it in before bursting out with laughter. This is all just so ridiculous. Eddie the hoodlum. He might get a kick out of that one.

The noise quickly dies down from seeing her dad’s expression. Shock, confusion, disbelief. Like he’s watching someone completely lose it and has no idea what to do. That switches to irritation as a deep frown takes over. “This isn’t funny! Who is this person? What’s his name? Who are his parents?”

This isn’t good. Getting in trouble is one thing, but what will happen if he finds out who Eddie is? She can already imagine him driving to Forest Hills to give Mr. Munson an earful, saying he better keep his nephew far away from her. And that’s the best-case scenario. 

“What’s wrong with you? Say something! Why did you bring a stranger in here? Do you realize what could’ve happened? Is anything missing? I can’t believe this.” 

‘I’m getting a headache.’

“I had a reason. Maybe not a good one, but… Okay. The thing is, something happened while you were gone. Jason… He dumped me for another girl.” She quickly covers her face, trying to work herself up to make this more believable. To play the part of the devastated girl left behind by the love of her life. Or whatever. “A junior! It was so embarrassing. Everyone at school’s talking about it. I invited over some guy he doesn’t like to make him jealous, but it didn’t work—” 

“Wait, wait, wait, just wait a minute! What are you talking about?” Peeking through the space between her fingers, her dad is holding onto the banister as the blood drains from his face. “No… That’s not right. Jason wouldn’t do that…” He whispers to himself, shaking his head in denial.

‘Jeez. Dad’s acting like he got dumped instead. This is making me feel bad, but he was going to find out either way.’

“You should be grateful to me. I’m doing us a favor while you go through this little rebellious phase. We both know how this is going to end. Don’t destroy your reputation in the meantime.” 

“It’s true! He broke up with me and has a new girlfriend. Ask anyone. The whole school knows about it.”

“Go to your room. Now.”  

Not needing to be told twice, Chrissy scurries up the stairs and stops at the top, listening to him trudge down the hall back to his office. What’s going to happen? She sets the bag down next to her on the step, waiting for the bomb to go off. Hopefully he’s too distracted to think about the ‘hoodlum’ that came into the house multiple times. At least for a bit. 

“Carver! You better take a seat because I have a bone to pick with you and your son.” There he goes… As expected. Calling Jason’s dad to have a hissy fit and figure out what’s going on. “Don’t you ‘what’ me! I come back from a business trip just to find a mess at my feet… Wait. Hold on… Chrissy! Stop being a nosybody and get to your room!”

‘Stupid creaky boards.’

“...Yes, sir.” 

Following orders, she slams the bedroom door harder than intended behind herself. How frustrating. The relationship was between her and Jason, yet their dads are the ones arguing about it. She’s even being excluded from the conversation altogether. As if it has nothing to do with her… 

‘No matter what they say, I’m not getting back with him. Uhn-uh. Over my dead body. Not after that earlier. He doesn’t respect my choices. If that jerk wants to take the blame, then so be it.’

The captain tosses her bag on the floor before flopping on the bed. Staring up at the ceiling, she exhales deeply to relax. That was actually easier than expected. None of it feels good. It’s just what needs to be done right now until she figures something out. 

Jason and his little stories… Even he’s embarrassed by them. Those two are real dumdums for making that up. He’s always been a terrible liar. Adding alcohol and stress only made that worse. Not everyone is buying it. Plenty of jocks were there when she and Eddie left practice and can put two and two together. 

‘His parents are probably so furious. I’m grateful he didn’t tell on Eddie, even if it was to save face. They would’ve pressed charges and tried to get him locked up…’

“So I got a lot to live up to. Don’t wanna ruin the great Munson name.”   

Grabbing a pillow, Chrissy hugs it tightly while thinking about what he said at Lover’s Lake. That guy is always messing around. Still, he has goals to accomplish and is afraid of ending up like his father. One bad move could’ve made that a reality, at least on paper. He’d also lose the chance to get a high school diploma.

‘I wouldn’t let that happen.’

“That’ll be mad cute in orange. Go with that one.” 

“Really? I don’t want to look like a pumpkin.” Trish groans, staring down at the page skeptically. The cheerleaders huddled together do the same as they glance between her and a picture of the outfit in question. “Chris, what do you think?”

Now that it’s March, clothing stores and boutiques are pushing their spring lines. It’s everywhere. Sale ads, catalogs, commercials, magazines… All are full of colorful, stylish outfits to match the season. Springtime is her favorite. When it’s not too cold or hot, and the trendiest clothes hit the shops. The winter months in Indiana are harsh, so she welcomes the warmth and everything slowly coming back to life. 

“Green will make your eyes pop more,” she answers honestly, watching some of the friends around her quickly nod and agree. 

“Ooh! Yeah, you’re right.” Happy with the response, Trish marks up the catalog with a pen to remember which items she wants to order later. 

‘In a way, it almost feels like some things are going back to normal.’

“You can always try—” She jolts when a large hand drops on her head, ruffling the cheerleader’s carefully styled hair. The girls in the group look stunned and a few gasp as she spins to face the culprit. 

Chrissy’s face lights up seeing Eddie looking back at her with that shit-eating grin. He winks and a wave of heat crashes down mercilessly, turning her into a flushed mess. It makes that already smug attitude soar even higher and he continues down the hall with a little pep in his step, strutting around like he owns the place. 

‘That goof’s acting so cocky... It’s hot.’

She stares at the large Dio patch on his back warmly while fixing the mess he made, not paying any mind to the many pairs of eyes on her. It’s okay. Their connection isn’t a secret anymore. They can be open with each other. 

Val jerks her head back and forth, glancing between the two before raising a brow. “You guys really aren’t going out?”

“Nope!” The other cheerleaders seem puzzled by the upbeat response. It’s not a big deal. After having a few days to mull things over, Chrissy decided she just doesn’t care at the moment. Not everything needs to have a label slapped on it, right? Stuff changes all the time, so who knows what’ll happen later on. For now, she just wants to have fun with him and see where this goes. 

‘I’m happy as long as we get to spend time together.’

“Move! This is an emergency!” Hearing a familiar voice shouting, they turn to see Charlotte barreling down the hallway, weaving between the students getting in her way. Running right towards them. 

“Hey, what’s going on—” 

“Bathroom.” The brunette grabs her by the wrist and yanks the captain away from the others, leading her back through the hall. Completely ignoring the looks from everyone around them. 

As soon as they head inside the girl’s bathroom, she impatiently clears her throat at the two freshmen doing their makeup in the mirror. The startled girls quickly gather their things and leave.

“I think you scared them.” Chrissy sighs, leaning up against the wall. “Anyway, how did it go with John? Did that work?” That’s what she figures this is about. They spent a good hour on the phone last night hashing out the details for the much-needed apology. 

“Huh? Oh, yeah... Of course it did! I had him eating out of my palm before ten. Thanks for that, by the way. Our little practice run really helped.” Sitting on the edge of the sink, Charlotte stares at her for a moment before looking down at her nails. “You know that traffic light thing you mentioned the other day? So, I might’ve gone to that adult store on Prospect to possibly buy some stuff to soften John up a bit, right? Just in case saying sorry didn’t work. I also might’ve been curious and asked the store owner if he knew anything about it.”

“Okay?” Why is she saying it like that? 

“Well, let’s just say I have some interesting things to tell you. I thought I knew it all, Chris. I’ve been humbled. My life will never be the same and it’s all your boy toy’s fault!”

“Mmghh…” Dark eyes narrow on the cheerleader as the annoyance he’s feeling gradually rises. The disgruntled noises to get the point across are going nowhere. Same with him tapping his shoes against the steps impatiently. Christ! What’s a guy gotta do to get some attention around here? Put on a performance? Start a fight?

Eddie’s brow furrows while she mindlessly digs into the bag of pretzels, waiting for the next one. Yeah, this is lame as hell. He’s acting like a moody cat being pissy that his owner isn’t petting him enough after finally coming home. In his defense, she hasn’t called him in a few days and they haven’t hung out since Saturday. 

‘I didn’t call either.’

Nope. That shit gets shut down real quick. They’re here now, so that’s what matters. Except one is lost in friggin’ la-la-land and the other’s trying to not-so-subtly pull them out of it. Another pretzel comes soaring through the air and he slides across the step to catch it, but the trajectory is way off. It hits the railing and ricochets down the rest of the stairwell. 

“What the hell was that?! Are you aiming for me or is there some guy down there you’re sneakin’ food to?” When he handed over his snack bag, the point was to feed him. Not the stairs. Well, actually the point was to stop her mind from wandering off again. And he failed. Again. 

‘Pay attention to me, dammit!’

“Oh, sorry.” She gives a half-hearted shrug before ‘tossing’ the next one. This time there’s a little more force behind it and the damn thing zips right past his head.

“Chrissy, I swear to God! You keep wasting my snacks and you’re gonna get it.” He throws her a pointed look, trying to stop his lips from twisting into a grin. That’s the ticket. Those big blue eyes land on him and he perks up at the small success. 

“Yeah?” Chrissy holds his gaze and slowly slips her hand into the bag. With a straight face, she pulls a few out and just tosses them down the stairs. His brows shoot up in surprise. The balls on this chick... And that teasing glint in her eyes is daring him to do something about it.

“That’s it.” Before he can hop to his feet, she’s already flying down the steps. Taking his bag of pretzels with her. So that’s how it is, huh? The freaky little cheerleader likes to be chased. Funny, ‘cause he gets a thrill from pursuing her. 

She already reached the bottom when he grabs onto the railing to launch himself forward, using his long legs to leap over half the set in one go. This girl is fast. He’ll use any advantage at his disposal to catch up. 

‘Where is she running to?’

Instead of stopping at the first-floor exit, she keeps going straight to the basement. Where hardly anyone ventures, except for janitors and students looking to do some shady crap. His chain rattles against the railing with the final jump and he stumbles with the landing as the stairwell door closes. 

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie breathes out, scrambling to get into the hallway before losing her trail. He glances around to find any signs of where she ran. The hall is dim and narrow with a handful of rooms down the row. This part of the building is even more decrepit than his normal hideout. “Gotcha.” His face lights up catching one of the doors shutting at the last second. 

The boiler room. 

‘Oh? Is that your plan, princess?’

It’s one of the few—and less frequently used—places in school where people go to hook–up. No one really likes coming down here because it’s a grubby shithole that could double as part of a horror movie set. Honestly, he’s surprised a scaredy–cat like Chrissy would run to this spot. Maybe knowing she’s not alone is giving her a little more courage. 

Slipping into the room, his eyes dart back and forth as they adjust to the darker surroundings. A single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling is the only source of light, making it easier for someone to hide in the shadows and machinery. He steps further in, now questioning whether the idea to lure him down here was actually for a hot make-out session or not. 

“Come out, come out, wherever you are.” He listens carefully for a response or some kind of noise from her moving around. There’s nothing. The hissing and humming sounds coming from the pipes drown out any pitter-patter he might’ve been able to pick up. Guess they’re playing hide-and-seek… 

“Rah!” Eddie jumps behind the old furnace in the corner and frowns when no one’s there. Just a shovel leaning up against the wall next to a pile of lumpy coal bags. Stupid ass old school. He tsks, then starts searching high and low for his target. 

Nothing under the utility table. No one around the water heater. Zilch near the large tank across the room. And no white sneakers when he bends down to the floor to get a look over the area. Chrissy is small, nimble, and quick. For all he knows, she could be curled up on one of the large pipes along the ceiling. 

‘I’m gonna look like a real dumbass if she didn’t come in here… Was I wrong? No, I definitely saw the door close. Gotta keep looking.’

“You can run around and hide, but I will find you. Eventually. There’s no getting away from me.” Something lands in his hair and he jumps, batting at it frantically. “Shit!” Whatever it is drops to the floor next to his shoe. It’s not a spider or cockroach like he imagined. Just a pretzel. Another one of his poor little soldiers being used as cannon fodder in their battle. 

“Promise?” The Hellfire leader freezes, barely hearing the voice over the aggravating noises coming from the machinery. She only uttered a single word but something about it keeps him rooted to the spot. 

“Yeah… Hell yeah. I promise.”

Out of the corner of his eye, a short figure creeps out from behind the water heater and makes a run for it. Heading straight for the exit. Not this time. 

“Where do you think you’re goin’?” His hand slams the door shut as soon as she tries ripping it open, hoping to take off again. Spinning around, Chrissy presses herself up against it and peers up at him with that damn look. The one where her eyes go all wide and she plays totally innocent to get her way. And it friggin’ works nine times out of ten, even if he knows what’s going on. 

“I—” A moment drags by and he cocks a brow, waiting for her to whip up some bullshit excuse. Instead, she chuckles sheepishly and hangs her head. “I guess it doesn’t matter now. You got me.” 

“That’s right. I caught you. Fair and square.” Eddie grins, pressing his arm up against the door and closing the space between them. She stares up at him curiously, her cheeks darkening from the warmth flooding them. Shitty lighting be damned. They’re a pretty shade of pink. He’s sure of it from seeing it so many times. “You know what that means, right?” 

“Nope. Do tell.” 

The poor little bastards in his sockets decide now is a good time to peruse. Trailing over Chrissy’s face and neck, down to her uniform. Maybe it’s from enjoying a good chase, but he’s having a harder time than usual reeling in his thoughts. Having a wild imagination has always been useful. Now, it’s just causing him pain. For real. And try as he might, there’s no stopping the scenarios that keep popping up. 

He cranes his head down while keeping an eye on her expression, half-expecting to be pushed back. That doesn’t happen. No, she tries to stay still as he leans in close, brushing his nose along the hollow of her throat. Breathing her in. That sweet scent he can’t get enough of. It’s only been a few days, but that feels like an eternity ago. 

‘...Dammit.’

“It means—” Reluctantly breaking away, his hands find their way to the cheerleader’s hips to hoist her over his shoulder. “Finders, keepers.” She squeals in surprise, grabbing onto the back of his vest and kicking her legs. “So you’re mine now.” He smirks and swings the door open, strolling out into the hall with his catch. 

“Eddie!” Chrissy’s flailing around like they just fell into the deep end of a pool. “You’re such a punk! Not fair.” Oh? Is that a hint of disappointment in her voice? Was she expecting a little more? Well, it’s better to do it in a place where he can at least see. The damn janitor still hasn’t changed the bulb in the boiler room. 

She starts pulling herself down his back when they head up the first flight and he has to grip her legs tightly to make sure she doesn’t fall. “Woah! What are you doin’? You wanna smack your head on concrete?” A little mischievous giggle comes from behind that’s troubling and when he climbs the next step, a hand comes swinging down. 

Right on his ass. 

Hard. 

“C–Crap!” Eddie shouts, wobbling from his legs turning into noodles. He quickly latches onto the railing to steady himself. What the hell was that? Retribution for Saturday? This chick might have dainty-looking hands, but they have one hell of a sting. They would’ve both been in trouble if there wasn’t a layer of denim in the way. 

“Oh, no… Did that hurt?” The destructive weapon that caused the pain tries soothing it by stroking his ass cheek. That might help if it wasn’t giving him an aneurysm. Does this make them even for that initial shot when they were wrestling over the magazine? It’s cool. Whatever. He bounces her back into place on his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to—”

“You’re gonna make us fall down the stairs.” He smacks Chrissy’s ass in return and smiles devilishly when she gasps loudly. “Bad girl.” Giving her another whack for good measure, he pauses mid-step when a peculiar sound fills the narrow stairwell. A mix between a moan and a cry. And they’re both fully aware of the noise she just made. It’s why she’s so tense and from the elbows digging into his back, is probably covering her face. 

‘Holy fuck. I was just screwing around, but I sure as hell felt that.’

“Hey, uh… You alright back there?”  

“Yep.” she squeaks out cutely and buries her face into his vest. Trying to hide from who knows what. It’s not like anyone’s watching. 

Is that what gets her engine going? There was no missing it… The way she shivered and reacted to being called a ‘bad girl’. That’s one more thing to add to the list.  

Eddie carefully sets her down when they get to the second-floor landing. Plopping his ass on the steps, he leans back on his elbows and gazes at the captain. As expected, she’s still slightly flushed from that. The real problem is that instead of looking at him, her eyes are glued to the railing. Same as earlier. 

“Can I ask you a question?” Chrissy says quietly, twisting a strawberry blonde tendril around her finger. 

“Sure, shoot.” If only he could switch places with that lock of hair. Maybe he’d finally get a satisfying amount of attention. They have something in common, though. She has both of them wrapped around her fingers, just below those perfectly manicured nails. 

‘I wanna get scratched up by ‘em. Bet it’d feel good.’

“What’s ADSM?”

“Huh?” His face scrunches up in confusion. The hell is that? Must be some funny business. “Is that like a radio station or something?” 

“No, remember you mentioned a traffic light system the other day? When we were in your room?” When she glances at him for a response, he gives her a wolfish grin. Who’d forget that? The cheerleader blushes and tries to cover up her own smile. “Well, I was talking to Charlotte about… things. Nothing too detailed! But she said that’s part of something called ADSM.” 

Oh, this is gonna be fucking rich. 

“And what did she tell you about this ‘ADSM’, exactly?” It’s hard holding back the snicker working its way up his throat, but he’s gotta hear this shit. Is that what the preps call BDSM? They can’t even get the acronym right. 

“That it’s…” The blush from a moment ago was nothing. Now her face is burning bright red. She spins on her heel in a different direction before continuing. “It’s part of a ‘sex thing’ where people wear leather and put clothespins on their, um, chest… and they hang their partners from the ceiling then… then beat them with stuff.” 

“Pfft!” Eddie’s eyes bug out from trying to keep himself under control, but it’s useless. He bursts out laughing, falling back against the steps and stamping his feet on the floor. It was better than rich. This was pure gold delivered right to him by an angel. 

Turns out said angel doesn’t find it nearly as funny. “Don’t laugh at me!” Gliding over, she yanks the sleeve of her jacket down and begins swatting him with it. That only makes him howl louder, almost slipping right off the edge. “I shouldn’t have even brought it up.” 

Wiping the tears from his eyes, he makes a real attempt to simmer down. “I wasn’t laughing at you. Your friends are the ones I’m getting a kick out of.” Not good. After all these weeks, it would suck major ass if Chrissy felt like she couldn’t talk to him over something goofy. “So sorry, m'lady.” His hands reach out to grasp one of hers, pulling it forward so he can lay a few light pecks on the back of it. “It’s the leather-clad people with clothespins on their nipples. They got me good.” 

“That does sound kind of weird.” She chuckles and quickly warms up from the small amount of affection. “Is it true, though? I mean, the whole traffic light thing and what Charlotte said? Do people really do that?”

What a friggin’ world. Where does he even start? Better yet, how? Without collapsing in on himself? Pinching the bridge of his nose, Eddie stares at the floor while thinking of an answer. A real one. Sure, her buddy’s explanation was funny as hell, but he doesn’t wanna bullshit Chrissy or completely freak her out. 

“Okay. I’ll level with you. She’s not entirely wrong but isn’t exactly right either. For starters, it’s called BDSM. Not ADSM. It’s like…” Glancing over at the cheerleader now leaning up against the wall, there’s a little hesitation to continue. What if she finds this all creepy and puts some distance between them? Or gets the wrong idea about him? He’d usually eat it all up, even exaggerating the details for added dramatic flair, but that’s not how he wants this to go with her. 

‘Stop screwing around. Chrissy’s chill. This isn’t gonna ruin it. She’s been pretty open to everything so far.’

“You can say it’s a ‘sex thing’. Not always. Depends on who you ask… There’s a lot to it. Way more than I even get. Right. So, uh… There’s usually like, two roles. Dominant and submissive. A dom wants control and the sub enjoys being controlled. But the important part is that everyone’s on the same page. They gotta trust each other. Follow?” She eagerly nods, listening with rapt attention. 

“Great. Cool. Alright, that’s where the traffic light system comes in. When people are gettin’ down, they might use a safe word to tell their partner what’s up. Like when I spanked you. You said ‘red’ and I stopped because that was the deal. And this covers a whole range of shit. It can just be some light spanking, using cuffs, roleplay… Maybe a little hot candle wax. Then there’s the heavier side, where people wear leather, use toys and clamps, or whip someone.” 

‘This is gonna end me.’

Seeing the horrified look on her face, he quickly jumps on that before it settles. “Hang on! Just hear me out. Anyone who gets into that wants to. For all kinds of reasons. You know, different strokes for different folks. So, yeah, what your friend was talking about is the wilder end of it.”

Chrissy wraps an arm around her midsection, making a weird expression that’s a pain in the ass to decipher. “Is that what you’re into? Do you want to do that to me? I can’t help thinking about it after what Charlotte said.” 

Her questions send him spiraling into a separate plane of existence. The second one… It keeps echoing through his head, turning his insides into molten lava. He’s frazzled. Barely able to do much more than gape at her while she patiently waits for an answer. 

‘Hold up. She asked if I wanted to do that to her. Not with her. What’s that supposed to mean? And the way she was acting earlier… Man, what the hell.’

“Certain parts I’m interested in, yeah. You saw my magazines. I mean, look at me. Leather, chains, and handcuffs? C’mon! That’s metal as fuck. But it doesn’t… I’m not—” Goddammit. Why is this suddenly getting him so upset? 

Everyone always assumes the worst when it comes to him anyway. Should this be any different? 

Now it makes sense why Chrissy seemed so distracted after coming here to meet him. Was she wondering if he planned to do all that wild shit to her? What, like the spanking and traffic light system were just preparations before moving on to the real deal? And he’s the jerkoff trying to lead someone who knows diddly–squat about this stuff right into it for his own gratification. 

The implications hit a nerve. A big one. Eddie’s convinced that is what’s going on and the more he thinks about it, the more frustrated he’s getting. There’s no winning. Even when trying to do what’s right—or at least seems to be the right thing—it always ends up with him being labeled a scumbag for some reason, regardless if it’s deserved. 

“You’re not what?” She says softly, playing with the ‘86 charm on her necklace. 

‘I’m not like that asshole Carver who’s just out for himself.’

“Forget it. You might think this is all friggin’ weird or scary, but I’m not planning on pushing crap on you. We don’t have to do anything you’re not down for, ‘kay? Even smooching or touching or whatever else. Just say the word and that’s that. No questions asked.” This is overly defensive. Maybe he’s acting like a stupid dog with its hackles raised over nothing.

“That is not what I think.” Kicking off the wall, she steps closer and to his surprise, takes a seat right on his lap. Just sits down on his thigh and throws her legs over the other one, getting nice and cozy. “It’s not a big secret you’re a strange nerd that’s into some freaky stuff. I like that about you. Sometimes it’s a little surprising at first, but that’s all.” 

‘She likes that about me…’

“Strange nerd, huh?” He snorts, rolling his eyes at the description. She’s too nice to straight-up call him what he really is. A freak. Big ol’ one at that. 

“Yeah, so stop saying silly things.” Chrissy gently takes his face in her hands and guides him to meet her gaze. “I’m doing what I want, okay? And part of what I want is the smooching and touching and whatever else. Unless you’re secretly hoping I say the word?” 

“Now look who’s saying silly things.” 

Unbelievable. Ridiculous. Horseshit. That’s the last thing he wants. It sucks, but she still doesn’t get it. There’s only one person to blame for that. Maybe he didn’t really change as much as he hoped since middle school. 

“Then we’re on the same page, right? Isn’t that what the system’s for?” Those big, stormy blue eyes focusing solely on him makes it hard to respond with anything more than a slight nod. He’s entranced. Getting too caught up in them to react when she leans in close and brushes her lips against the side of his face. “Jeez. Like I’d believe the guy who won’t even kiss me without asking first is ‘pushing crap’. No way.”

A flame ignites under Eddie’s skin as she plants small kisses on his cheek and chin, slowly working her way along his jaw. Leaving a hot trail that lingers even after she’s moved on. “Well, I… I, uh… figured you wouldn’t want me just coming up and layin’ one on you.” His nostrils flare with each deep breath and all he can smell is her. She’s everywhere, invading each one of his senses. 

“What if I do? You don’t have to ask.” The cheer captain pulls back to shrug off her jacket, tossing it onto the stairwell railing. “We already crossed that line, so… I mean, I’m okay with you doing that.” She adds quietly, reaching out to caress his bruised cheek. Her fingers ghost over the blemished skin before working their way into his hair, weaving themselves through the messy dark locks. 

‘Guess I’m just a dumb, cynical bastard after all.’

Chrissy’s eyes flutter shut when she moves in for a kiss. So slow, careful, feather-light. He returns it with the same energy, taking the time to relish each movement of her lips against his. Drinking in everything she’s willing to give him. Being a greedy son of a bitch, his lids stay partway open, not wanting to miss a damn thing like the first time they did this. One of a handful of regretful choices made that day. 

“Mmm…” The soft little moan against his mouth causes Eddie’s world to shift, throwing everything off balance. Can she hear it? How the heart in his chest is hammering away? That’s all her doing. “You’re so warm. It feels good.” 

‘You feel good, princess.’

Screw it. They could do this for hours—even the rest of the night—and he’d be totally cool with that. More than cool. Thrilled. But he doesn’t have that luxury. Once the bell rings, she’s going to happily skip to the bus waiting out front of the school for their away game. The squad has to fulfill their duty of cheering on shitty jocks dribbling balls and entertaining a crowd of people who don’t appreciate all the hard work they put into their routines. 

Point is, they’re short on time and every minute counts. There’s no telling when they’ll meet up again next. Could be days and it seems like he’s the only one suffering from this ordeal. 

“C’mere.” His arms circle around Chrissy, drawing her in even closer. It just isn’t enough. Not until her chest is firmly pressed up against his and she’s wrapped around him like ivy. He still can’t get over this. All of it. Someone sure got a little friskier since they last hung out… But as she deepens the kiss, he’s having a difficult time thinking too much about it right now. 

All that’s on Eddie’s mind is that he likes the way it feels when she’s clinging to him. Those slender, bare legs folded over his thighs. The hands grabbing at his vest and band shirt, balling the fabric up in her small fists, making sure he doesn’t stray too far. Even a few inches. And when the tip of her tongue slides across his lips, there’s no hesitation to let her in. Chrissy can have whatever she wants. If he has it to give, then it’s hers to take. 

‘I want her. I want her. I want her. Fuck, she’s making me so hard.’

“Oh!” Pushing back against his chest, the captain glances down at the white watch on her wrist and gasps. “Crap. I really have to go. My bookbag’s still in study hall.” 

Fucking basketball. 

He tries to catch his breath as she awkwardly detaches herself from him to get up. Shit… Time’s up. It went by too quickly. “Dammit.” Does it have to be over already? Stupid sports. Dumb tournament. Lame schools. Just a bunch of bullshit getting in the way. The only good thing to come from all that garbage is the cute uniform she’s wearing.

“I’m sorry,” Chrissy’s a flustered mess. Cheeks red hot, totally out of breath, and working herself into a tizzy over her appearance. She quickly gathers up all the loose strands that fell to fix the ponytail he jacked up and smooths out her pleated skirt. An attempt to look ‘presentable’ after what they just did. “I lost track of time. It just… Wasn’t thinking… I’ll, um, make it up to you.” 

‘Make it up to me? What the hell is she talking about?’

Eddie’s face drops at that. Watching her getting ready was at least a welcome distraction from his own painful situation, but that really threw him off. While adjusting her top and yanking the jacket from the railing, he notices her hands are shaking. “What do you mean? There’s nothing to make up. We both knew you had shit to do. It’s not a big deal.” 

Jesus Christ, that made it sound like she ‘owes’ him something. The guilty expression on her face isn’t sitting well with him, either. Not cool. Where did that come from? He glances from her to one of the rings on his fingers and twists it around, silently picking apart the weird reaction. Is she used to saying that to Douchebag? That leaves a heavy, sour feeling swirling in his gut. 

‘I don’t like that.’

Slapping his hands down onto his knees, Eddie pushes up off the step and slinks in front of the chick messing with her jacket. His eyes narrow on the trembling fingers fussing with the zipper. This is making him feel like shit. 

“Here. Let me help.” He reaches down between her hands to take care of it. Freeing the zipper that was stuck and tugging it up. She peers up at him and sucks in her bottom lip before patting that hairdo once again. “It’s good. Relax. You look beautiful, ‘kay? Stop fretting so much. No one’s gonna be able to tell that you were sucking face with me in here.” 

Chrissy stares at him blankly as a pink dusting spreads across her cheeks. Then she puffs up when the last part sinks in. “I don’t care if anyone knows! Let them find out. That has nothing to do with this.” Glancing at the watch again, the cheerleader sighs and moves closer, grabbing the front of his shirt. “I really have to get going, so are you going to kiss me goodbye?”

‘Atta girl. Don’t take no shit, even from me.’

“Heh. Sure, but not ‘goodbye’. More like, ‘until later’ or whenever you decide to bless me with your presence again.” To be honest, Eddie isn’t a fan of saying that word. Goodbye. There’s a finality about it he just doesn’t vibe with. Dipping his head down to give her another kiss, he wants that dreadful combination of letters to stay far away from the both of them. 

The cheerleader gives him an extra peck before heading for the stairwell door. Part of him is itching to grab onto that jacket to drag her ass back over. He doesn’t want Chrissy to leave right now. It can’t be helped. Even if the squad wasn’t going to another school for a game, they’d still have to separate to go to their seventh-period classes. 

“Hey, uh… Chrissy?” Pausing in the doorway, the strawberry blonde turns around and arches a brow. Yeah, they both know she’s short on time, but he can’t help himself. “Can you not tell the other preps what’s up with the whole BDSM thing? It’s a hell of a lot funnier if they think I’m running around with clothespins on my nipples and stringing folks up just to smack ‘em around. You know, when sacrificing virgins isn’t cuttin’ it.” 

A beat passes before her face lights up with a ridiculously huge smile. That’s the ticket. He grins triumphantly that he was able to get one more out of her. “Don’t worry, Mr. Dom. You’re secret’s safe with me.” She giggles as his mouth falls open stupidly and disappears behind the door. 

‘Shit… Fuck me.’

“Don’t even get me started on that. Every single time I try talking to Linda, all she wants to do is make out. Seriously! It’s like she’s shushing me with her lips. This girl’s hot and all, but what if I want to talk once in a while?” Steve tuts and crosses his arms over his chest. “The sex is good, so that’s a plus. It’s just, I don’t know…” 

The ‘Great Drought of ‘85’ is little more than a distant memory at this point. A crappy year better left in the dust. He got his mojo back and everything is on the up and up. At least, that’s how it seemed. After a long string of failures, now women are throwing themselves at him left, right, and center. Isn’t that what he wanted? 

“Robin? Hey, Robin?” Leaning up against the counter, he stares at his friend’s back as she grabs more tapes from the cart to stack the shelves. “Are you even listening to me?”

“I can do my job and listen to your dating woes at the same time.” She excitedly holds up an old-looking movie, tapping her fingers against the cover. “How about ‘Brief Encounter’ this time?” 

“Oh, yeah? Then what did I say?” That’s a load of crap. Also, another black and white film? That’s two days in a row they watched a flick that was older than both of them combined. At least he usually ends up liking her picks. “Sure, whatever. I don’t think I’ve seen that one.”

“You were complaining about how terrible your life is because another hot babe wants to constantly have sex with you, right? My heart really goes out to you in these troubling times.” 

“Come on. You don’t have to say it like that. It sounds like I’m being a whiny—”

The bell jingles when the front door swings open, drawing both of their attention away from the conversation. Monday’s are always slow as it is and they’ve barely had any customers stop by. Making sure his hair is still on point, Steve looks over at the entrance with a glimmer of hope that it’s a hottie since he lost rock, paper, scissors and it’s his turn to take the next customer. 

‘What luck. It’s him again...’ 

There’s no foxy mama walking into the store. Only Eddie ‘the freak’. Dustin’s new best buddy. The little twerp always has to mention how cool this weirdo is, like anyone would buy that. They went to the same high school together and he knows what Munson’s about. Not impressed. 

“Hey, what’s up?” This isn’t the first time this guy’s come into Family Video, but something’s different. While keeping his eyes directly on Steve, the metalhead strides right up with a bunch of VHSs tucked under his arm and drops them on the counter. Not handing them over nicely or making a small stack the way most people do. The movies are dumped into a heap next to the cash register. 

“Just bringin’ back the goods.” Eddie tilts his head and motions towards the pile of tapes across the surface, pulling his lips back into an unsettling half-smirk. It almost seems sarcastic from that tone and expression. A big attitude change from the last few trips he made to the store. 

“...Right.” He slowly nods before glancing over at Robin on the off chance that she’s willing to take one for the team. As soon as their eyes meet, her head whips in the other direction, pretending not to see the plea in his gaze. She goes back to stacking tapes and holds up a fist. A reminder that her rock beat his scissors. 

‘I’ll remember that next time.’

“Alright, let’s see what we got here.” Trying to ignore the look he’s getting, Steve sifts through the movies to put them together into something a little more organized. Nightmare on Elm Street, Return of the Living Dead, Friday the 13th Part II, This is Spinal Tap, Creature, Halloween, National Lampoon’s Vacation. Figures this guy would mostly pick slasher films. Sounds about right. And Dustin worships this guy? So does Mike. Of course it just has to be someone who’s a bad influence.

He goes over to the computer to look up the account. Every couple of seconds, his eyes shift over to the man standing on the other side of the counter. Munson’s just staring at him. Practically glaring. What the hell’s his issue? Even when his back is turned, he can feel those daggers digging into him. It’s getting on his nerves. 

“Is there a problem?”

“Nah, man. Does it look like I have a problem?” Eddie rolls his shoulders back, standing tall with that bitchy look still directed at him. Should he really answer that? Anyone could see he has major beef. Clearly this isn’t an isolated thing, either. That bruise on his cheek means someone got mad enough to deck him. “Is there a reason I should, pretty boy?” 

“No? That’s why I asked.” For real? Is Munson really trying to get big with him? It’ll take way more than that for Steve to be intimidated. Not after all the crap he’s seen and done. Wrong person. 

“Then why would I have a problem?” 

“Nevermind. Forget it.” Mondays might be slow and boring, but getting into it with some headbanging freakazoid isn’t his idea of how to liven it up. He puts the returns into the system and pays no mind to the dude tearing open a box of Mike and Ike’s with his teeth like some kind of animal. “That’ll be five bucks.”

“Five bucks?!” The piece of candy he threw in the air falls to the floor as he whirls back with an outraged expression. “What the hell for?” 

“Six of the movies are four days late. Looks like they were due on the fifth. Then there’s the box you’re chowing down on. That’s another fifty cents.” Hopefully this doesn’t turn into a temper tantrum. One chick racked up a forty-dollar bill the other day and instead of talking it out, she swiped everything off the counter and wrecked a display piece. Keith had to threaten to call the cops just to get her to leave the store. 

“Christ… Greedy son of a bitches…” Munson grumbles while checking the pockets of his leather jacket before pulling out a wallet from the back of his jeans. A wad of ones are slapped down and he grabs two more boxes of candy from the side. “There. Six bucks. We square?”

“Yep. You’re good to go.” He quickly counts the money and nods. Thank God this can finally be over. This guy’s a real piece of work. It’s a wonder why the kids like him so much. 

Without another word, the freak heads out with his candy. Only stopping at the door for a second to throw him one last dirty look. Leaving a bewildered Steve trying to make heads or tails of the odd interaction. 

“Did you see that? Tell me you saw that, right?” Now that they’re alone, he quickly turns to Robin and throws his hands up in confusion. “Didn’t it seem like he had a problem with me?”

“Oh, yeah. I saw all of it.” She laughs and leans up against one of the shelves. “Eddie totally hates you now. What happened, pretty boy? Did you steal his girl? Wait. He’s with Chrissy. You didn’t…?”

“No way. First off, none of the babes I talk to would ever mess around with a guy like that. Second, me and Chrissy Cunningham? Not a thing. Our parents were friends and we’ve hung out, but that’s it. Thirdly—or Third?—Munson has no reason to hate me. I haven’t done anything!” That’s right. How the hell did that happen? The town freak is trying to adopt the kids and gets a cute girl? Nothing makes sense anymore. 

“I don’t know. It might be an off day. That's kind of weird he's suddenly acting like that towards you.” Robin shrugs, wheeling the empty cart into the back.

Sitting down on the chair in front of the computer, he sighs while watching her move around the store. Everything and everyone is really changing. Dustin’s too busy with his new group to hang out. On top of his own work schedule and dating, it’s a pain trying to find extra time when they both have their own things going on.

Also, he ran into Mike the other day. The kid had a growth spurt and seems to be taking styling tips from Munson. Growing his hair out and those clothes? So obvious. And he’s trying to learn guitar because of his new ‘role model’. Nancy probably isn’t thrilled about that. Not that he would know since they rarely ever see each other anymore… Max and Lucas are even harder to catch up with than the rest, but he heard the latter joined the basketball team. 

‘And here I am… Still working a crappy job with no idea of what I want to do. At least it’s not alone, I guess.’

“Hey! Where did my Swedish Fish go? I still had half a bag left!” Robin pushes some tapes out of the way, searching around the little candy display near the register. “They were right… here.” The two look from the counter to each other, then at the door.

‘This sounds exciting.’

Chrissy’s eyes light up as she finishes the synopsis on the back and adds the book to the pile in her handbasket. It’s getting heavy now. There’s no way these will all fit into her bookbag. Well, she can figure out how to sneak them upstairs later on. 

Going down the row of books, she glosses over the covers to see if there’s anything else that piques her interest. The anthology from Charlotte didn’t take long to read through. She ate it up, getting lost in the short stories and imagining herself in place of the main character. They were over far too fast. It was a nice appetizer, yet not nearly enough to satisfy her growing hunger and curiosity. 

That’s what led her to stop at Clemen’s. After doing some running around in the area anyway, it seemed like a good idea. A little treat to herself. 

‘Okay, don’t go overboard. I’m going to end up becoming a hoarder like that pervert at this rate.’ 

Glancing at the old metal basket, she sighs and shakes her head. No. There’s a long way to go before that happens. Who knows how long he’s been collecting those dirty magazines? And only a small portion of them was visible under the bed. He could have them stuffed in all kinds of places throughout his bedroom.

“Darn it.” Now for the next hurdle. Peeking around the corner from the ‘adult section’ in the back, Chrissy silently thanks God that the store is mostly empty at the moment. The only other people in here are the owner behind the counter and his granddaughter stocking shelves. 

‘There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Adult books are for adults… and I’m an adult, right?’

She tries to push forward, but her feet are cemented to the floor. The fingers wrapped around the handle tighten into a death grip while her other hand clings to a shelf for stability. Despite repeating the same lines to calm down, it’s not changing the reality of the situation. That nice old man who’s helped her find books many times as an innocent teenager is going to see the depraved woman she’s turning into. 

If only his granddaughter was doing the cashier job instead… It wouldn’t be nearly as bad. Is there a way to not make this awkward? How does Eddie do it? Or does his ‘erotica’ come in the mail? He’d probably stroll up to the counter with a cocky smirk, then look the cashier right in the eye and tell them they need a wider selection. Just brimming with confidence while joking around.

Confidence. 

That’s the key.

“Did you find everything okay?” Mr. Clemen says when she sets the basket down on the counter. He pulls out a thick pair of glasses from the breast pocket of his plaid shirt before ringing up the items. 

“You bet!” Chrissy laughs nervously and inwardly smacks herself for already making this weird. She shifts from one foot to the other when the older man raises a brow. Shaking it off, he goes back to the job at hand.

The cheerleader keeps her gaze trained on the mountain of books piling up on the surface. When ‘The Silmarillion’ is moved aside to reveal the next one, a breath catches in her throat. On the cover is a shirtless hunk of a man with long dark hair holding a pretty blonde in an off–the–shoulder dress. He’s hanging from a rope as they swing back to his ship. A pirate and the beauty he captured during an adventure.

The store is somehow quieter than it already was a moment ago. And beneath that book is half a dozen other filthy stories from the small section in the very back of the store, away from anything wholesome or family-friendly. Their spines alone give away what they are without needing to glance at the front. Heat stings her face and she looks away, unable to look Mr. Clemen in the eye. 

“...Please don’t judge me.” 

“I didn’t say anything.” 

It’s not until Chrissy’s hurrying out the front door with the bags and receipt in hand that she finally relaxes. So much for being a confident woman… How unsexy. Just buying a few adult books almost sent her hurtling right into an anxiety attack. But she did it. This is the first time she’s gotten anything like this and everything worked out just fine. 

“Yes!” A big smile spreads across her face as she swings the bags back and forth, feeling overly giddy about this. After taking a nice hot bubble bath, she’s going to curl up in bed with one of these and see what kind of naughty escapades will play out. 

‘I can’t wait. My muscles are sore, too. That will really hit the spot. If these are really good, maybe I can recommend them to Charlotte. She’ll be so surprised.’

“Look who it is. Long time no see.” Hearing a familiar voice, she hesitantly turns around. There’s a man sitting cross-legged on the ground with a cardboard sign and a small plastic bucket beside him. He smirks and hops to his feet, casually strolling over. “Figures you’d be a cheerleader. Unless this is some costume thing you’re doin’?”

Forgetting someone like that isn’t easy. She remembers those features, his long light brown hair, and even the stench emanating from him that night a few weeks ago. When this man was drunk and bothered her in the parking lot outside of The Hideout. A hand slowly inches toward her purse, trying to be discrete as she gets ready to whip out the pepper spray if he tries anything.

“Hey, now. Ya don’t gotta be scared. I’m just talkin’. That’s all.” He stops a couple of feet away and eyes her warily, raising a brow. “We got off on the wrong foot before. I didn’t know you were Munson’s girl.”

“That shouldn’t matter.” If this is him trying to make it better, he’s not doing a good job. So if she wasn’t connected to Eddie or someone else at the bar, then it would be okay to harass her? The audacity of some people… They don’t think there’s anything wrong with going up to strangers and acting that way. 

“You’re right, you’re right. Not cool. I get a little uppity after drinking. My fault, okay?” The man leans up against the front of the store and crosses his arms, sighing. This time, he actually has a shirt on beneath that leather jacket. “You can chill, demon girl. I ain’t gonna do anything. Don’t need your boyfriend trying to beat me up again.”

‘Again? This guy must’ve really pushed his buttons for that to happen.’

“Why do you call me that?” They don’t even know each other like that. What’s his name again? Jay? John? Jack? She’s pretty sure that’s the one. Jack. 

“Ehh? Good question.” Jack grazes his fingers along the stubble on his chin, regarding her carefully. There’s something off about it. Enough to make her want to squirm right where she stands. It’s not lecherous… That look is easy to figure out. Whatever it is, she’s having a difficult time putting her finger on it. “Nothin’ serious. Just a little thing my brain cooked up that stuck.” 

‘It doesn’t even make sense. Unless that’s the point.’

“Ya don’t like that? I think it’s hella bitchin’. Then what’s your name? Whatcha go by?”

“Chrissy.” 

The smart thing probably would’ve been to ignore this person right off the bat and just head to the car with her bags. Not stand here while he makes small talk. Why is he doing that? To smooth stuff over with Eddie? And she’s playing along… Another habit that’s still hard to break—forcing herself to stay in uncomfortable situations to avoid seeming rude. 

“What are you doing?” Tilting her head to the side, she peers past him towards the sign and bucket. None of that was out there when going into the store earlier. Is he collecting money?

“Exactly what it looks like. Panhandlin’. Gotta make extra smackers somehow.” It’s rare to see that in town. Not because there isn’t anyone in need, but plenty of people don’t react kindly to it. They’ll reprimand the person asking for help, telling them to get a job and stop being a bum. Her dad absolutely despises those who do it. He thinks they’re looking for free handouts or drinking money. 

“It might be a good idea to leave out the Vietnam vet part. You’re way too young for anyone to believe that.” 

Jack’s jaw goes slack before spinning around to snatch up the cardboard off the ground. He reads it quickly, letting out a frustrated groan. “Shit! I grabbed the wrong sign… No wonder I haven’t made crap today.” 

The bags in her hands feel heavier now. Staring at this guy, she can’t help noticing how worn his shoes and clothes are. Those dark shadows beneath his eyes must be from a lack of sleep. That pulls at her heartstrings. 

‘Maybe I am a huge softie like he said…’

“Well, I need to get going.” Chrissy chuckles to ease her own discomfort then walks past him. Stopping in front of the bucket, she slips a hand into her purse and with some awkward maneuvering, manages to pull out two crinkled-up twenties to toss into the empty plastic container. The change from buying books and other things while running around. “Take care of yourself.” 

No one at home will miss it. Hell, she could’ve dropped that on the way to the car and it wouldn’t matter. This can make someone’s day a little better on top of being a small jab at her dad. A win-win situation. That’s less than pocket change to him, anyway. 

Unlocking the Corvette, she sets the bags down on the floor and goes to hop in when Jack calls out. “Ey, demon girl!” Her expression twists with displeasure at the name. “Uh, er… Chrissy…”

“Yeah?”

The man stands near the curb, staring at her for a long moment before scratching his head irritably. “No one listens to shit I say anyway but lemme give ya some advice. That baggage you’re carrying? Throw it away. Fast.” 

“What are you talking about?” Arching a brow, she glances at the haul on the passenger side. “My books?”

“No, not that!” He takes long strides toward the car and Chrissy backs up, startled. “The real baggage. Whatever that is. Either get rid of it now or start gettin’ real friendly with downers. Ice and dust work, too. Makes it harder for ‘em to mess with your head.” His voice is low and hurried as he taps a finger against his temple. “You seem like a nice girl, so that’s the only reason I’m warning you. Last thing I need is more junk weighin’ on my noggin. Got it?”

“I—I don’t know what you’re saying.” She sucks in a sharp breath, trying to calm herself down. His demeanor changed so quickly. Going from laid back to dead serious in just a few seconds. 

‘I’m getting freaked out.’

“Jax! What’ve I told you a million times?! Stay away from customers and don’t sit outside of my store!” Mr. Clemen stands in the doorway with both hands on his hip. “Get going before I call the cops.” 

“Keh! Stingy old man.” 

“Lazy young brat! Fine, what’ll it be? You want to deal with Powell or Donna? Your choice.” The elderly man turns to mutter something to his granddaughter lurking behind him and she runs off. 

“...I’d rather you call the cops,” Jax says under his breath so the store owner doesn’t hear. He sighs and throws his hands in the air. “Damn! Cool your jets, Clemen. I’m leavin’. These people, I fucking swear…” Before fully turning away, he throws her a side glance. “I know you know what I’m talkin’ about. Make peace with whatever bullshit you’re dealing with and use anything that ‘feels good’, ya hear?”

Realizing that this guy is waiting for some kind of a response, she slowly nods and watches him stomp off to grab his belongings. All while glaring at the store owner who’s still shouting at him, but she’s too stunned to listen. 

Chrissy quickly jumps into the driver’s seat and slams the door, hitting the lock button over and over again. Wanting to keep anything outside from coming in. It’s too late. His words already penetrated her mind. They shook the cheerleader up, getting under her skin. Shifting the euphoric mood from earlier into something more foreboding. 

‘What the hell was he going on about?’

A shaky hand puts the keys into the ignition to start the car. Purposefully avoiding looking at the two men arguing in front of the building, she hurriedly pulls out of the lot and onto Prospect. The evening traffic is already in full swing and a window is rolled down to let in some fresh air. Anything that can help clear her mind to focus on the cars flying down the street.

“You’re beautiful, darling.” 

Chrissy says in a Mid-Atlantic accent as she twirls in front of the vanity mirror, watching the silky robe flutter around her. That causes another round of giggling and she covers her reddening face in embarrassment. So silly. These clothes are really cute, though. They make her feel fancier than she actually is. A great find while out shopping with the girlies the other day.

Staring at the reflection, it’s almost like a different person is looking back. The sad, scrawny little girl she’s scowled at for years is taking on the appearance of a woman. A lady. Maybe not the kind her parents wanted, but that’s okay. The world doesn’t revolve around them.

‘I just need to be someone I’m happy with.’ 

“Oh!” Seeing the paper bag sticking up from the duvet draws her attention. She almost forgot to put those away. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, the cheer captain sighs and dumps the prescription bottles out onto the covers. There’s quite a few of them now. More than she’d like.

Once the away game finished, Chrissy had an appointment with their family doctor and it was… interesting. Trying to explain what was going on without saying anything that could get her committed wasn’t a fun experience. Neither was him mentioning how she gained a few pounds since the fall or bringing up her mom, who always did all the talking during these situations. 

Dr. Howard thinks the nosebleeds are from dry nasal passages. After a long examination, that’s his best guess. They went down a list of symptoms she was having, and he wrote out some prescriptions and suggested over-the-counter sprays. 

‘Jeez. What a mess. Hopefully the prazosin helps with my nightmares. I don’t know if I want to take the other stuff. Seems like a bit much between those, my birth control, and vitamins. I’m like an old lady now with a hundred pills.’

She sighs and shakes her head, shoving all of them into the nightstand drawer. Out of sight, out of mind. There’s no telling what her dad might say if he saw them. He’s been extra prickly since learning of the breakup. The story of Jason dumping her for another girl is more about the Carvers slighting him. And doing it while he’s gone without his input? That means war. As far as he’s concerned, Mr. Carver might as well have welcomed him back by spitting in his face. 

“Ugh…” She crawls across the bed and pushes those thoughts aside for something more important. Finding out what happens between Anne and Stede ‘Silver–Tongue’ Vane in the new book she started reading earlier. Snatching up the novel sitting on the nightstand, she gets cozy under the duvet and flips it open to the bookmarked section. 

Anne is the daughter of a royal governor who lives a boring life of socializing with the rigid upper–class and waiting around to be married to a suitor of her father’s choosing. That is, until one day she’s taken hostage at an event by the infamous Silver-Tongue Stede, who’s trying to get away from the guards. He uses Anne to escape, assuming the men won’t shoot and gets away on his ship with her in tow. Little does she know it was all part of the pirate captain’s plan. 

‘Oh my God! We’re only halfway through the third chapter, Stede… This guy. I bet Eddie would be into something like that, too… All these bad boys are trouble.’ 

Biting the corner of her lip, Chrissy can already feel warmth spreading everywhere. Choosing this book wasn’t a coincidence. The summary on the back hit a little close to home and the main character seemed relatable. Oh, the fantasy of having some beautiful scoundrel with an exciting life falling head over heels from afar, then setting up an elaborate plan to whisk her away… One could dream. Or just read dirty stories about it.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. 

“Come on…” Letting out a little huff, the bookmark is shoved between the pages, and it's dropped onto the duvet. Of course someone has to call right now. Once she finally started relaxing after an annoyingly long day. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, Chrissy? Great! You’re still up… Look, I need a huge—”

“Speak of the devil.” She smiles, sitting up on the edge of the bed and twirling the phone cord around her finger. Only Eddie or Charlotte would call this late. Figures it’d be him.

“Oh, were you talkin’ about me? Hmm?”

“More like thinking about you.” 

“Really? What about me? Crap! Hold that thought for now. We got bigger fish to fry. I need a huge favor. Like, a big ass one. You know that packet in O’s class that’s due tomorrow?”

“Mhm.” The smile fades from already knowing where this is going. 

“Yeah, well… I, uh, just found it and there’s no way I’ll get that beast finished before class. No friggin’ way. Could you do me a solid and help me out with some of the answers?”

Pulling the phone back, Chrissy stares at it in disbelief. Ms. O’Donnell gave them that packet after winter break and was very clear it would count toward the final. The darn thing is sixteen pages. No wonder Eddie looked like he’d seen a ghost in class this morning after the teacher reminded everyone about it. 

“What do I get in return?” The captain cradles the phone with her shoulder and heads over to where she tossed her bookbag on the carpet earlier. This is probably going to be a long one. 

“In return?!” He sounds so shocked. This is going to be fun. “So that’s how it is… I come to you in dire need and you’re puttin’ the squeeze on me, huh? Fine. Name your price. I’ll do anything. Free grass, massages, being your servant for a month. I don’t care. Just tell me.”

Chrissy arches a brow while getting out the packet and a textbook. It was just a joke, yet he sounds serious about doing whatever she asks. Maybe this will be more fun than expected. What should the price be? Different ideas pop up as she pulls the robe tightly against herself, getting warm all over again. A full-body massage? That would be nice after practice. Or maybe… “How about—”

“Deal.”

“Let me finish first!” No, it feels bad to take advantage of his desperation with something like that in mind. “How about you take me to see a movie Saturday night? I mean, if you’re not doing anything? There’s one I wanted to check out. It’s a rom-com, though.” 

“That’s it? I offer to be yours for an entire month and you pick the movies instead?!” 

Why is this guy acting so offended now? Does he want to be a servant for a month? So much for not caring about the price. “Alright, alright. I guess we’re doing that instead, but I still want to go to the movies on Saturday. Is that okay?” It’s not a date. Definitely not. Just two people hanging out who like kissing each other. That might possibly have a makeout session afterward. In his van. All by themselves. With no one else around. 

“For sure. Your wish is my command, princess. Saturday night it is, then. Figure out what time you wanna go and I’ll ride up on my stallion to scoop you up.”

She leans away to snort, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. What a goofball. Still, the whole ‘servant’ thing is kind of iffy. That kind of muddies the waters. “Mmm... I’m not so sure about this. I’d rather you do stuff with me because you want to and not as part of some deal.” 

“Oh, man. You’re killing me. For real. Killing me dead. I don’t think you really get it—ktchhhhh!”

“Eddie?... Eddie?” Loud static comes through the receiver. “What the heck’s wrong with this thing?” She frowns, shaking the phone in frustration before hanging it up to try again. More static. “Come on!” The cheerleader drags herself across the floor to check the jack, making sure the cords are plugged in all the way. 

‘I’m so mad! Why does it have to act up now?! I really wanted to hear the rest of that and we didn’t even get to his packet.’

The only other one in the house that currently works is in her dad’s office and that’s a separate line no one else is allowed to use. No way. He’d catch her in a heartbeat. Also, she’d rather him not listen in on her conversation with Eddie. That’ll just make everything worse. 

Picking it up again, she groans from hearing the same thing. Just more static. It might be better to just drive over to his place... What if he has the same idea, though? 

“Ow… Ow.” The phone falls to the carpet. Her temples. They ache. Chrissy grabs the sides of her head, trying to massage them using the heel of her palms. The static keeps getting louder and louder. “A-Ah…” It hurts. Like someone’s driving their bony knuckles deep into the soft juncture beside her eyes. A sharp pain that’s building on itself, getting worse with each passing second until she’s doubling over.

“Jesus!” Her hand frantically pats the floor, feeling around for the receiver. Stop. It has to stop. The noise is scrambling everything upstairs, making it hard to see or think straight. Smooth plastic touches the tips of her fingers and she quickly smashes it down on the base.

Silence. 

“Thank God.” Just like that, the pain faded away once the phone was put back on the hook. She slowly sits up and tries to catch her breath, totally puzzled over what happened. 

‘I feel… nauseous.’ 

The lamp sitting on the nightstand suddenly turns off and on. Wide, frightened eyes dart from that to the vanity, bathroom, and even the light beneath the door that’s coming in from the hall. Every bulb in the vicinity begins flickering. 

“No, no, no, no!” Not again. Please. Chrissy tries to get up off the carpet, but her legs are already violently shaking. The lights going crazy means something horrifying is coming. Every. Single. Time. “D-Dad! Dad!” Can he hear her? Is it loud enough? “Dad!”

Reaching out hesitantly, she shakily takes a hold of the edge of the duvet and tears it off of the mattress. Sending the book on it flying and trying her damnedest not to glance under the bed. Just in case there’s something looking back. 

Tears prick her eyes as she hides under the large blanket, pushing herself up against the nearest wall. That’s one side that’s protected. This isn’t the first time. Might not even be the last. If nothing’s going to work, she can at least try to block it all out until this is over. 

‘Ears… Eyes aren’t enough.’

The bookbag gets pulled over too and Chrissy hastily tears through it, all while humming loudly in hopes of drowning out any voices. Yes! Yanking out the walkman, she puts on the headphones and fumbles with the buttons.

“All the leaves are brown and the sky is gray… I’ve been for a walk on a Winter’s day…”

Drawing her knees up, she holds onto them for dear life, trying to make herself as small as humanly possible. Curled up into a tiny ball against the wall. Eyes squeezed shut as The Mamas and The Papas take her somewhere far away from this place. 

“Well, I got down on my knees… And I pretend to pray…”

A nice place to go. The beach. The drive will take a while but is totally worth it. Definitely. It’s sunny out and the sand would be so warm between her toes. Where’s the nearest one? Maybe it can be a little road trip? She’s never done that before. That would be a lot of fun. 

“Chrissy?”

‘Block it out. Block it out. How loud can this thing go?’

“Chrissy?!”

The duvet is ripped away and a scream that barely sounds human leaves her mouth. Someone’s yelling. A man’s voice. Cautiously cracking a lid open, another shout comes from seeing her father’s pallid face and alarmed expression. 

The lights aren’t flickering anymore. 

“Dad!” Pulling off the headset, Chrissy lets out a heavy breath and glances around the room before landing back on him. Thank goodness. She’s never been so happy to have someone barge in here.

“Are you okay?” He says quietly before letting go of the blanket. It sounds strange coming from him. But the thing that’s most worrying is that he looks… scared? Then the phone starts ringing. That changes his mood real fast. “Who’s calling you this late on a school night?!”

“C–Charlotte. We were—I was helping her with a packet. It’s due tomorrow.” She points to the textbook and worksheets on the floor, hoping that’ll do it for him. Charlotte would understand. They’ve both covered for each other plenty of times before. 

“I told them they’re far too lenient with her. This is what happens when people don’t listen to me. Everyone thinks they know everything.” Turning away, he mumbles complaints to himself while heading for the door. “Tell her it’s rude to keep calling like that. If no one answers the first time, it’s for a reason. Don’t stay up too late, either. You have to get up early.” 

“...I know.” The phone rings for the hundredth time. She snatches it up, pressing it tightly against her chest as he glowers from the doorway. “Sorry. It’ll get done.”

Slam. 

A squeaking noise keeps coming from the receiver that’s ignored. Chrissy just stares at the spot where her dad was standing only seconds ago. Becoming lost from trying to grasp any of this. It doesn’t make sense. Nothing does. The harder she thinks, the more detached from reality she feels. 

“Heeelllloooo?!”

Glancing down at the phone, her lip quivers as she slowly brings it up to finally answer. “Sorry.” 

“There you are! Christ, I thought you forgot about me… Anyway, my bad. This piece of crap started acting up and uh, yeah. I think some drunk must’ve hit a pole out here. Everyone’s stuff started going wild.” 

“Their stuff went wild?”

“Yeah. Remember when you first came over? Like that, but with the other trailers too. I was sitting in front of the window and saw it. Doesn’t surprise me. Everything’s always been a friggin’ mess.” 

The same thing happened in Forest Hills… It wasn’t just this house. That should be a relief. Was she overreacting? Maybe being a little dramatic? The trailer park is a fifteen-minute drive from here. Perhaps there was a problem at the plant and it messed with everyone’s electricity. That’s plausible. A story she can accept to put her mind at ease. 

“Chrissy?”

“I’m here. I just…” Just, what? Her mind’s still reeling from all of that. This situation is different from the others. It didn’t involve hallucinations or hearing disembodied threats, but her reaction to it was very real. “We also had an issue. Well, I don’t know about the neighbors, but our place did.”  

“Really?! Huh. So even the ritzy section got it. Someone’s definitely gonna get fired then.”  

All she wants to do is keep listening to his voice. It’s so soothing. The one thing that can genuinely calm her down. He’s been there for most of the incidents without realizing it. The forest, his trailer, at school… Even the occasional late-night chats after a terrible dream. They never seem to annoy him. 

“I was so pissed off. Like, I thought about chucking this thing right through the window.” He chuckles and a small smile passes over her lips. “Then I imagined the ass-kicking I’d get when my uncle got back from work.”

Dragging the duvet closer from where it was thrown, she wraps it around herself tightly, wishing it was a person instead. Eddie… All it took was a few minutes to brighten up the mood. To draw out a grin so easily and a little laugh. That’s all it ever takes with him. He’s the sun shining through the dark clouds hanging over her head. The breath of fresh air she desperately needed. 

Chrissy looks up at the ceiling, trying to blink away the tears rimming her eyes. What the heck. Nope. Not doing it. There’s been more tears shed in the last month than all four years of high school put together. 

“Hey? Are you good?”

“No.” She winces at how high-pitched her voice sounds. Like she just sucked the helium out of a balloon. “I mean, now I am.” Because of him. And even when she was sure that was about to happen again, a gift of his was there to help her escape for a bit. “Thanks for getting me that walkman. It’s the best present anyone’s ever given me!” 

“Oh, uh… Y–Yeah. No problem. It’s nothing to get upset about, though.” Eddie clears his throat, going quiet for a moment as she scoots over to the nightstand to grab some tissues. Just in case her attempts to hold it back end up failing. “Did something happen?”

“Not—Not really. I think I scared myself stupid when the lights started acting up.” That’s easier to digest than anything else. Besides, it’ll be fine. As long as someone else is there. “After we’re done with the packet, would you mind staying on here for a bit longer? If you’re not too tired by then?”

“Do you really gotta ask? You know I will. I’m up half the night anyway and you’re the one always falling asleep on me.” 

“...That’s true.”