Corroded Coffin

The Hideout was even seedier on the inside than it looked on the outside. Chrissy could feel the floor sticking to the bottom of her heels. She told her mom she was going to a concert with some of the girls from the cheer team. That was only a half-lie, and Mom had been so thrilled with how flat Chrissy's belly looked in her cropped tank top that she didn't bother with any follow up questions. No one asked her for ID when she walked through the door. Instead, she was ushered right into the bar and its muggy haze of cigarette smoke.

One end of the bar was occupied by pool tables, the loud clicks of balls striking each other cutting through the jukebox music playing. The paper on the door said Corroded Coffin would play at 9; it was 8:55. She asked the bartender for a water with lemon. Even if she had felt bold enough to ask, she didn't need the calories and bloating alcohol would give her.

Lemon water was fine. She like it, actually. Chrissy took a stool at the bar and sipped it there while she waited. Eddie had told her the crowd was made up of five drunks, but she counted about thirty people in the bar. Looking up at the clock, she saw that only two minutes had passed.

She turned her attention to the stage area, where Eddie and his bandmates were setting up. They were joking and laughing. Eddie hadn't seen her. But then, she hadn't told him she was coming, either. They had smiled at each other in the hallways on Monday and Tuesday but hadn't spoken to each other since Friday night. She watched him plug his guitar into the amp, giving it some experimental strums to make sure it was in tune.

8:59. Chrissy took another sip of her water. A small crowd was forming before the stage. At least ten people. Eddie had been a little modest in his story telling. She decided to take one of the small tables toward the front for herself rather than standing in the crowd. Someone in the crowd shouted when Eddie played the opening riff. Chrissy recognized the song immediately; it was the one Eddie had sung along to Friday night when they drove to his trailer. He didn't sing now, but she remembered how he sounded that night.

All the songs were heavy metal, and Chrissy was embarrassed to admit to herself that she only knew a few. If Corroded Coffin had any original songs mixed into their set list, she wouldn't have been able to tell. But she liked the way the music reverberated in her chest in the close quarters of The Hideout. She doubted she could ever headbang the way Eddie was, but she did find herself tapping her foot to the fast-paced beats of his guitar solos.

"Thank you, Hideout, good night!" The singer shouted into the mic when the rhythm of the last song faded away. Chrissy clapped until her hands stung. The cool glass felt good on her palms when she took another drink. For just a moment, she considered slipping out while the band broke down their set. But she had come here for a reason, though she herself couldn't quite name what that reason was. She lingered instead, stabbing at the lemon slice and ice cubes with her straw. Jukebox music took over again as she waited.

"Chrissy!" Her name was said incredulously. "You came!"

Eddie materialized beside her, giving her an awkward, one-armed hug as she slid out of her chair. "I thought I'd even out your crowd of five drunks," she told him.

"Little hard to get drunk on lemon water," he teased. "They don't card here."

"I noticed!" Chrissy was quickly introduced to the other members of Corroded Coffin: Gareth, Jeff, and Adam. All four of them wore matching t-shirts emblazoned with the band name in ac complicated font. Underneath was the year 1979, the same year of the middle school talent show. Though surprise showed on all their faces, they quickly absorbed Chrissy into their group. "Do you have t-shirts for everything?"

She plucked at the hem of the black fabric, smiling. "Damn near. We made these and the Hellfire ones. You come here alone?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I did." In fact, she had taken the bus, and told him so. She left out the part where she had taken the bus, rather than her dad's car—which he always let her drive—to better sell her lie.

"Mind sharing the van with three sweaty ass guys? Four, I guess, if you count me. I'll give you a ride home."

Chrissy's heart fluttered at that. "Sure."

There was some grumbling when Eddie opened the passenger seat for Chrissy. Apparently, the right usually went to whoever won a game of rock-paper-scissors with last week's victor. Eddie shoed them off, though, hand lingering on the small of Chrissy's back as he ushered her in.

"Look at Munson, suddenly he has manners." One of them teased from the back. Chrissy couldn't decipher who in the dark of the night. Eddie wove through Hawkins, dropping off the guys and their equipment first. When the van was empty of all passengers but Eddie and Chrissy, the former did something shocking. He drove the speed limit.

"Not to sound ungrateful, but, uh… what made you decide to come?" Eddie asked, drawing the van up to a careful stop before a red light. He turned to her, face limned scarlet.

"Um, I was returning the favor."

"Returning the favor?" Eddie asked, looking away from her to turn once the light turned green.

"You did something nice for me and I wanted to do the same for you."

"Chrissy Cunningham, are you telling me that dealing drugs to people is basic human kindness? That's going to be my new business slogan."

"No!" Chrissy giggled. "I meant after. Watching The Goonies. Making sure I was okay."

"Mmm, I'm gonna have to start charging extra if I add 'hanging out while high' to my list of services." They were quiet for a moment, only the soft sound of Metallica playing on the radio. Eddie had turned the volume down this time. "Did you like the show? Yeah? Did you know any songs?"

"Only a few," she confessed. "But I liked seeing you play them all."

"Don't worry, we'll broaden your musical horizons. Pretty soon you'll be singing along."

They smiled at each other, stopped at the sign just before her street. "Why'd you drive the speed limit?"

"Precious cargo," he answered, pulling up to the curb outside her house. He turned his key, shutting off the car and headlights alike. "Was Jason mad you didn't go to his rager?"

"Not very," she fibbed. "I told him I was tired that night."

"Well, you were falling asleep on the ride home. I like your hair like this." He touched the end where it rested loose on her shoulder. Her heart fluttered again.

"Thank you," she murmured. "About my hair, but also for Friday."

"Oh, now you're thanking me for selling you drugs." She rolled her eyes, turning toward him in her seat.

"Kind of, I guess, in a round-about way. I'm thanking you for giving me two hours of sanity. Senior year is hard."

"Tell me about it. This is my third one." He got her to laugh with that one. She was so used to Eddie being a fixture at Hawkins High that she forgot that his longevity was due to failing twice.

Chrissy met his gaze, glittering even in the dark. That easy grin of his was tugging at his lips. "You wanna hear something crazy?"

"Hit me."

"I felt that way tonight, too. Sane. Unburdened. And, no, I didn't find a new drug dealer over the weekend." She tacked the joke on at the end to cover her embarrassment at being so opened. As if Eddie could see the blush that was heating her cheeks.

"Yeah? Sounds like we're gonna have to hang out more often."

His words lifted up at the end, almost like he was asking a question. Chrissy smiled and squeezed his arm where it rested between them on the console.

"I'd like that."