Special K
"There's, uh… There's nothing to worry about. Okay?" Eddie Munson's voice pulled Chrissy out of her thoughts. Out of her mother's voice. "No one ever comes out here. We're safe. I promise."
That Eddie's lunchbox he brought to school each day was actually filled with drugs was no small secret at Hawkins High. He may have been called a 'freak', but Chrissy knew even Jason had been known to buy weed from Eddie for his post-game parties. Eddie opened the lunchbox in front of her on the picnic table deep in the woods behind Hawkins High to the cache of marijuana, rolling paper, and a lighter.
"So, how does this work, exactly?"
"Oh, just like any other ol' sale, except cash only, and, uh, for obvious reasons, no receipts." Chrissy inhaled deeply, the scents of the forest—decayed leaves, wood, dirt—filling her nose. It was undercut by Eddie's cologne—something spicy; she couldn't name it—and the earthy smell of the weed that sat between them.
She was hesitating, and she knew that. Jason had described the way it put your mind at ease, but his friends had also told her about how hungry it made them. The 'munchies'. Eating more was the last thing Chrissy needed. If she couldn't maintain her weight and fit into the dress her mother had bought her for prom, she would never hear the end of it. Losing weight would be better…
"I'll do a half ounce for, uh… twenty. What do you say? Plenty of bang for your buck. Should last a while."
A squirrel scurried noisily up a tree behind them, spooking Chrissy.
"Hey, uh, we don't need to do this. Just give me the word and I'll walk away. Okay?" Eddie pulled the lunchbox away from her, making ready to leave.
"No, it's not that, I don't want you to go. It's just… do you ever feel like you're losing her mind?" When she found the courage to look up at him, she found his eyes comfortingly dark. The brown depths were soft. Curious, but soft. Not the sharp, icicle edge she sometimes saw in the blue of Jason's eyes.
"Um, you know, just on a daily basis." His smile had a softness to it, too, creasing his cheeks. "I mean, I feel like I'm losing my mind right now, doing a drug deal with Chrissy Cunningham, the queen of Hawkins High." Somehow, he didn't it with any mocking in his tone. Teasing, surely, but devoid of spite. Playful. He tapped his numerous rings on the picnic table.
"You know, this isn't the first time that we've, um… hung out."
"No?" Had they been partners in class before?
"You don't remember?" His brows furrowed together. Obviously, he did.
"I'm sorry, I—"
"That's okay," he cut her off. Eddie Munson liked to talk, it seemed. Then he mimed stabbing himself in the heart, making her gasp as he fell to the ground and rolled. "I wouldn't remember me either, Chrissy." He swiped at leaves clinging to him from his bout of dramatics, making her laugh.
"Honestly, do I have stuff in my hair?" Eddie Munson's hair was long, dark brown like his eyes, and fell in shaggy, unkempt curls around his shoulders. Chrissy found herself laughing more. "You don't remember me?"
"I'm sorry!" Chrissy repeated through her laughter.
"Middle school, talent show. You were doing this cheer thing. You know," he pantomimed the cheer routine Chrissy had done that very afternoon at the basketball pep rally, "the thing you do. It was pretty cool, actually. And I was with my band…"
"Corroded Coffin!" Chrissy shouted, the memory flooding her mind. Victorious, Eddie clapped his hands together.
"Corro—you do remember!"
"Oh my God! Yes, of course! No, with a name like that, how could I forget?"
"I dunno. You're a freak." He said it with the same playful tone as before, but his voice and face alike fell over the word 'freak'. Chrissy felt her own smile slipping from her face.
"No, you just…" she immediately backpedaled in defense. "You look so—"
"Different?" Eddie finished for her. "Yeah. Well, uh, my hair was buzzed, and I didn't have these sweet old tatties yet." The bats on his forearm were always visible, but Eddie turned his arm to show her the hand controlling a demon puppet on the other side and pulled down the collar of his shirt to expose a quick glimpse of another on his chest. It also revealed a necklace, a simple chain with a guitar pick adorning it.
"You played guitar, right?"
"Mhmm. Still do. Still do. You should come see us." He slipped his hands in his back pockets, the picture of casualness. "We play at The Hideout on Tuesdays. It's pretty cool. We… we actually get a crowd of about fiiiive drunks."
Chrissy found herself laughing again. She couldn't remember the last time she had laughed so much.
"It's not exactly the Garden, but you gotta start somewhere, right? So…" He threw a gentle punch at the tree behind him, turning on his heel back toward her.
"You know, you're not what I thought you'd be like." Maybe it was the blatant openness that she was coming to find defined Eddie Munson that made her speak so honestly.
"Mean and scary?" He asked, covering his face with a strand of hair.
"Yeah," she admitted. Eddie didn't give her the time to regret her honesty.
"Yeah, well, I actually kinda thought you'd be kinda mean and scary, too." He came back to the picnic table, straddling the bench across from her.
"Me?" She asked. Chrissy hadn't even had the courage to approach Eddie in person; she had left a note in his locker asking him to meet her. He had responded in kind, returning the note to hers with the location written on it. He had even drawn a map for her. 'Ritualistic Friday Night Torture' was how he had labeled the football field in his sharp, spiky handwriting.
"Terrifying!" He assured her, leaning down to retrieve his lunchbox. "Uh, so, in other good news, flattery works with me, so twenty-five percent discount for the half. Fifteen bucks. You're robbing me blind here, you know."
Another of his soft smiles. Chrissy dropped her gaze to her lap. "Do you have anything maybe stronger?"
She couldn't risk it. The munchies Jason's friends had described, that is. Maybe something stronger wouldn't make her hungry. Eddie fell quiet before her. She felt his eyes on her but couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze.
"We'd have to take a field trip for that." He stretched his arm out across the table, showing his watch face to her. "Break period's almost over for you. Now, for me, it's nothing not to be in class. I think my teachers look forward to it. But for you? I'll sell you drugs, Chrissy, but I'm not gonna be the reason the queen gets detention. I'll pick you up after the game tonight and I'll let you rifle through my stash, okay?"
He pulled a rolling paper from his lunchbox and a pen from his pocket, scrawling something across it and folding it in half. "Okay," Chrissy agreed, taking the paper and ignoring the way her stomach constricted. Whether that was in hunger or anxiety over having to wait so long, she wasn't sure.
"You go do your thing you do tonight, Chrissy, and I'll set you right afterward. Promise."
Eddie walked her through the swathe of forest behind the school, across the field of Ritualistic Friday Night Torture, and parted ways with her once their feet touched campus ground again. Chrissy watched him go, swinging his lunchbox idly at his side, and opened the note he had given her on the strawberry-scented paper.
IOU :)
Eddie Munson drove fast. And reckless. Chrissy caught herself against the passenger side door more than once on turns, her seatbelt doing little to keep her secured in her seat. He also sang while he drove.
"Oh, you just got to be up high where the whole world's watchin' me, 'cause I, I got the guts to be somebody!"
He sang emphatically to W.A.S.P.'s 'I Wanna Be Somebody' as he revved through a yellow light before it could turn red. Eddie also smoked while he drove, the same weed he had shown her in the forest, if she had to guess. A woodsy, strawberry-tinged smoke filled the cab, making Chrissy recall his note that she had secreted away in the pages of her math book.
"Sure you don't wanna hit?" He asked. Excitement had rolled off him in waves when she had met him in the parking lot after the game. The weed had little effect on that. His dark eyes were shining in the intermittent glow of streetlights when he turned to her, proffered blunt in hand. "I mean, a good hot box is nice and all, but the real thing… I only sell the good shit, Chrissy, you can ask your boyfriend."
She felt her smile waver at mention of Jason and pushed those feelings away. "I'm good!" Chrissy had to shout over the music.
"When I'm done corrupting you, you'll understand the wasted opportunity of free weed."
Eddie took another sharp turn, this time taking them down a bumpy dirt road toward a small trailer park. They nearly careened into one of the trailers, Eddie slamming his foot on the break at the last possible moment. A thick cloud of smoke followed her out when she opened her door.
"This is, uh, my castle," Eddie told her, motioning to the trailer. He unlocked the door and held it open for her. Homey. That was the first word that came to Chrissy's mind when she stepped inside. It was obviously a lived-in space; unlike the staged magazine scene neatness her mother strove for at her house.
"Sorry for the mess," Eddie continued, swiping some food wrappers left out on the table. "The maid took the week off."
"You, um, you live here alone?" It was both homey and decidedly male.
"With my uncle. But, uh, he works nights at the plant. Bringing home the big bucks." Eddie puttered around the kitchen while he explained.
"How long does it take?"
"Sorry?"
"The Special K. How long to kick in?"
"Oh, uh, well it depends if your snort it or not. If you do, then, uh, yeah. It'll, uh, kick in pretty quick." She couldn't decide which of the two of them seemed more nervous. Chrissy pulled her jacket sleeves over her hands and balled the fabric in her palms to hide how they shook. "Oh, shit," Eddie said into an empty container.
"You sure you have it?"
"No, no, I got it. Uh, somewhere." An idea lit up Eddie's face and he disappeared down the hallway, leaving Chrissy alone in the living room. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, counting the ball caps decorating the walls. She made it to twenty before Eddie came back.
"Found it!" He held the little metal box up like a trophy. "Peaceful bliss just moments away."
Then he stopped short, eyes narrowing. "Do you have any idea what to do with this?"
"Um, no," she admitted, twisting her sleeves.
"Ever done anything like this?"
"No." He tapped the metal box on the counter, regarding her.
"What were your plans after this deal, Chrissy?"
"Um, Jason always throws parties after they win a game," she explained, "I was gonna head over there."
"Yeah, I know about the parties. Two of your boyfriend's goons bought that ounce I offered you off me for it. Charged them thirty for it, though. So, you're telling me that your plan was to buy the Special K, get high off your ass, and show up at Jason's party like all's good?"
Chrissy swallowed and nodded, not liking the scrutiny she was fixed under. Eddie shook his head, sending his curls flying with the motion. "You trust Jason to be around the first time? Word is he likes to get cross-faded. Think he can take care of you if he's messed up himself?"
"Take care of me?" She shifted her weight again. "I thought it just gets you high."
"Oh, believe me, Chrissy, you'll be a kite in the sky. But you've never done ketamine, and you have no idea what that high is gonna look like for you. Do you always go to these parties?"
"No."
"Okay, here's the deal. I'll sell you the Special K, but you gotta do it here. I'll show you what to do. We'll see how you like the ketamine high and when you've sobered up, I'll take you home. Deal?"
Inhaling deeply, she took Eddie's extended hand and shook on it. His rings were cold against her fingers, and he gripped her hand solidly. Eddie kept hold of her, drawing her to the kitchen table. They sat across from each other in just the same way they had in the forest. Chrissy watched Eddie retrieve a small plastic bag from the box and dump the powdery contents on the table. He took a razor blade out next, chopping it through before creating an orderly line.
"You ever snort anything, like, at all?"
"Pixy Stix powder at a sleep over once." Eddie laughed at that.
"Yeah, okay, it's not gonna suck like that. It's gonna tickle for sure. Try not to sneeze and waste it all." He drew a dollar bill from his pocket and rolled it into a tube before showing her what she needed to do. Eddie had feigned snorting over the plain wood of the table and had her do the same before motioning her over the ketamine powder.
He was right. It tickled but also burned, making her eyes water. Eddie stuck a hand under her nose and pressed hard, stopping the sneeze that nearly erupted from her. "Feel lightheaded? Yeah? Feel good?"
Nodding, Chrissy attempted to smile at him. He was right; she was already feeling lighter.
"Wanna watch The Goonies?" He asked. His own smile was a mix of excitement and pride.
"The Goonies?" She parroted and laughed.
"Yeah, yeah, I love watching The Goonies when I'm high. C'mon, I've got it on VHS." He drew her from the chair and led her to the couch, depositing her on the soft, worn cushions before crouching and rifling through the tapes stacked under the TV. A victorious whoop sounded when he found what he was looking for and popped it into the VHS player. Shucking his jacket to reveal the devil insignia of his Hellfire Club t-shirt beneath, he plopped himself down beside her.
"It's already funny as shit but it's even better when you're outta your mind." Chrissy giggled, watching the fast-forwarded previews with a vague sense of vertigo. She laid a hand tentatively on Eddie's arm just to make sure she wasn't truly falling. He covered her hand with his. "You good?"
"Mhmm," she hummed, using her free hand to wave toward the TV. "Dizzy."
"Yeah, dizzy! That means it's workin'." Chrissy giggled at that.
"Can I lay down?" She hardly waited for his answer, sinking down to the couch and pillowing her head on his thigh. After a while, Eddie started to play with her hair as they watched the movie. Chrissy liked the way her head tingled when he twirled the strands of her ponytail around his fingers.
For two glorious hours, Chrissy didn't think of her mother's sharp, analytical gaze as she tried to visually determine if her daughter had gained weight. She didn't think of Jason's snippy comments to 'look happier', or the empty, profuse gifts he always gave her after fights. Eddie Munson's black jeans were a little scratchy under her cheek, but his hand was wonderful in her hair, and he was right: The Goonies was funnier when high.
Too soon, the credits rolled and she came back to herself. "Still awake, Chrissy?"
"Mhmm," she hummed again, regretful as she pushed away from him and sat up. She could feel the seam of his jeans imprinted on her cheek when she rubbed at her face. "Was I a good high person?"
"Did you feel troubled at all while it happened?"
"No," she whispered, blinking back the threat of tears now that she was in her typical headspace once more.
"Then you were perfect, Chrissy."
A/N: This first chapter is obviously a re-write/extension of Stranger Things 4, Episode One: Hellfire Club. All chapters after this one will be original content, with references to the show, of course.