Carrie
Steve Harrington blew his straw wrapper at Robin, not caring if it was crummy compensation for his coworker having gone across the street to get the slushies for them. It was a slow night at Hawkins Video; unusual for a Friday, but it was spring break. Most people were traveling or getting ready for prom tomorrow night. He had heard enough lamenting from Henderson about Mike having gone to California with his sister, Nancy.
"Stop pouting," Robin batted away the wrapper before it could hit her cheek. "Something intriguing this way comes."
"Huh?" The Shakespeare reference sailed directly over Steve's head, but one jerk of Robin's chin and he spotted the intrigue: Chrissy Cunningham and Eddie Munson making a beeline for the glass front door of Hawkins Video. The former was mid-story, punctuating her tale with movements reminiscent of the Hawkins Tigers cheerleading squad routines. Eddie copied her motions with exaggerated gusto, so that Chrissy's tinkling laugh filled the quiet video rental shop when the door was opened for her.
"What the hell?" Steve mouthed to Robin. Unlike Eddie Munson, he had graduated in '85 and was therefore out of the Hawkins High loop aside from what he learned from Robin and Dustin. This piece of gossip must have escaped Robin's notice. She was making blustering hand motions of her own, shaking her head all the while.
"I don't know!"
Striving to be covert, Steve and Robin took to stealing glances at the unlikely pair while pretending to be busy rewinding tapes and doing inventory on the computer. But Eddie and Chrissy were the only customers in the store and keeping their eyes off them was proving to be near impossible. At one point Steve directly caught Chrissy's eye. She gave him one of her characteristic soft, sweet smiles before turning back to Eddie.
"Look, this one's for you." The two were in the horror section. Eddie held out Christine for Chrissy's inspection.
"It's about a car?"
"A possessed car that kills people," Eddie clarified, turning the tape on its side and driving it along the edge of the display shelf. He launched it like a car jumping a cliff, stopping the tape mere centimeters from Chrissy's face. Though she laughed, the pair left with Carrie and Children of the Corn instead.
Unable to resist his own curiosity, Steve bypassed Robin and cut off her attempts to reach the register before he could. Eddie Munson and Chrissy Cunningham. The two were totally incongruous. Chrissy wore an oversized Hawkins Tigers sweatshirt that Steve speculated might have belonged to her actual boyfriend, Jason Carver. Her hair was held neatly back from her face with a green headband. Eddie, on the other hand, sported his signature mussed, feathery hair and a faded Iron Maiden t-shirt.
"Hey, Harrington." The tapes were slid across the counter along with a twenty-dollar bill. Gone was the playfulness he had shown with Chrissy. He regarded Steve with blank, dark eyes.
"Hey, Munson. Little horror movie night going on?" Steve couldn't help himself asking. Was Chrissy still with Jason? Would Robin know? Henderson probably would; he was in Munson's Hellfire Club bullshit.
"Gotta restore Chrissy's faith in the horror genre after the Poltergeist sequel."
"Oooh," the sympathetic groan came from Robin. She winced as if in actual pain. "God, I'm sorry. I've heard its beyond awful."
"It wasn't scary at all," Chrissy told her with an eyeroll. "You could guess all the twists way before they happened."
Steve dropped the change into Eddie's ring-decorated hand, subtly looking over him and Chrissy while their attention was on Robin. They reminded him of Nancy and Jonathan, he realized. Mismatched on the surface but obviously connected in some deeper way, a careful amount of distance between the two that were belied by the intimacy of the looks given to the other, like silent inside jokes were passing between them.
That alone was enough for him to believe there was something more than friendship going on between Munson and Chrissy. He told Robin as much once the two of them left and the coworkers were alone in the store once more.
"Yeah…" Robin agreed, watching Eddie peel out of the parking lot in his van. "It's weird, right? I'm not the only one who thinks it's weird?"
"Nah, Robin, you're not the only one who thinks it's weird. Let's see if Henderson's home."
They had deviated from their typical Friday nights when Eddi had suggested they watch movies, but Chrissy was prepared. Popcorn, even buttered, would make no dent to her diet. Besides, she had skipped lunch as a safeguard with prom taking place tomorrow, and she knew she would be too busy for much of the day Saturday to worry about food or if her stomach would be bloated in her dress. So confident was she in her calculations that she allowed herself the small splurge of a Diet Coke.
Once back from their trek into town to retrieve the movies and snacks, Chrissy settled into the soft, worn couch in the Munson living room. Eddie offered her the blunt first, waiting for her to set it between her lips before lighting it. They smoked with the window open, more for Chrissy's benefit than anything, so that the smell of the smoke wouldn't settle into her hair and clothes.
Eddie showed off again, blowing smoke rings for her. When the blunt was finished and Chrissy confirmed she was feeling pleasantly buzzy, Eddie scooped up the VHS tapes and held them behind his back. His scrunched-up concentration face made him look adorably boyish.
"Alright, pick a hand," he told her after shuffling the tapes out of sight.
"Mmm… left."
"Children of the Corn it is." He had shed both jacket and shoes when they had come through the door. Following his lead, Chrissy had done the same. Now she curled up on her side of the couch, tucking socked feet beneath her. "Wanna close your eyes through the previews?"
"Just let them play," she suggested instead. "We can talk through them."
"Okay, so, I want to preface Children of the Corn with this: it's more cheesy than anything, the story is way creepier when you read it. Carrie's gonna be the standout in this little movie night." Eddie waved a hand at the Carrie VHS on the coffee table before them. His t-shirt left all his arm tattoos visible. The bats, the puppet master, the wyvern. Chrissy watched them as he continued to gesture, explaining that He Who Walks Behind the Rows was more menacing in King's original writing.
The first time she had watched a movie with Eddie, Chrissy laid her head in his lap. This time, they sat side-by-side, shoulders brushing and a bowl of shared popcorn between them. An air of almost-awkwardness had settled over them, but it was short-lived. Chrissy squealed during the opening scene, when one of the ill-fated adults got his hand sliced to shreds in the diner. While Eddie laughed, she flapped her own hands as if they were in danger of the same treatment. Much of the rest of the movie was spent poking fun at it, especially when Isaac's death played out on the screen.
"That's the demon thing?" Chrissy asked. "What did you call him? He Who Walks Behind the Rows?"
"In my defense, I told you it's different in the books." Eddie held up his hands in a show of innocence.
"It looks like TV static!"
"Yeah, yeah, just wait, Chris."
There was some talk during Carrie, too, though Chrissy was noticeably more somber during the second movie. She drew her knees up, staring hard at the screen. Eddie moved their now-empty popcorn bowl to the coffee table, freeing up the space in silent offer for Chrissy to move closer. She took the chance immediately, scooting closer until she was flush against Eddie's side.
"The mom is kind of intense," Chrissy whispered, still not taking her eyes off the screen.
"Yeah, she's batshit."
Chrissy was so intently focused on the movie that she barely reacted to John Travolta appearing on screen. "Danny Zuko's a dick in this," was her only commentary. But the musical cues spooked Chrissy more than once, so that she jumped each time, much to Eddie's amusement. The scene where Carrie's mother attempted to kill her had Chrissy reaching for Eddie's hand. He let her take it, surreptitiously threading his fingers through hers.
Carrie screamed on screen in reaction to her mother's death; Chrissy screamed beside him, using her free hand to cover her mouth. For his part, Eddie tried not to laugh. Having watched both films before, he knew Carrie was the scarier of the two. Still, he hadn't expected Chrissy to be that frightened.
When the movie ended, Chrissy had such a tight hold on his hand that he didn't dare try to pull away to turn the VCR off. She was pale in the glow of the TV, worrying at her lower lip with her free hand. Never one for uneasy silences, Eddie began rambling about how the Carrie film adaptation was more respectful to its literary counterpart. Blue eyes still widened with fear turned up to him, studying his face.
"Eddie?" She had interrupted him, she knew that, but his name slipped out before she could stop it. Surprise showed on his face, but no anger. He wasn't upset to have her speak when he was speaking.
"Yeah?"
"You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to, but… what was it? What made your mom realize it was time to leave your dad?"
She knew it was a vast divergence from the movies they had just watched, at least for Eddie. But Chrissy had spent the entire film watching Carrie's mother and bullies with an intensity that surprised even her. While she didn't think Jason capable of the horrible deeds that played out on screen, she would be lying if she didn't admit she had seen some of him in Carrie's bullies.
A mean streak was a mean streak, after all.
"Um," he laughed nervously, pulling his hand away from her and running it through his hair. "Shit, Chris. Um, no, I'll tell you. I already told you half of it anyway. So, uh, you know I've been living with my uncle since I was nine?"
"Mhmm." He waited for her to nod before he continued.
"Well, um." Eddie began twisting his rings, the first nervous gesture she had seen from him. "It was after a fight. Their last fight, I guess. Dad was drunk, like always, and they were arguing because the electric was gonna get turned off since he blew all the money on booze. She called him a lowlife—and she wasn't fuckin' wrong about that—and he hit her. Right across the face." He made a backhanded motion with his hand and shrugged. "Mom was gone in the morning."
"She left you, too?" Chrissy's heart constricted in her chest, but Eddie only shrugged again. His laugh had a bitter edge to it.
"I mean, yeah, obviously, because here I am."
"What happened to your dad?"
"Dead within the month. His luck with drunk driving ran out, wrapped himself around a pole. Now here I am," he said again. He was still looking down at his hands in his lap, fiddling with his rings.
"Oh, Eddie." She reached for his hands, taking his fingers into hers and stilling them. "I'm so sorry."
When he lifted his head, Eddie's dark eyes were shining wetly. He didn't cry, though, instead giving her hands a squeeze. "It is what it is."
Chrissy did hug him, then, the nonchalance he showed over this sad fact of his childhood sending her nearly to tears herself. She hugged him tightly, arms around his neck and face in his hair.
"Can I ask why you wanted to know?" Eddie asked, holding onto her about the waist.
"I think…" Chrissy shook her head, strands of his hair tickling her face. "I am going to break up with Jason. After prom."
Her heart pounded as she admitted it. The adrenaline of confession was quickly replaced with cool relief. Saying it aloud was just as freeing as it was terrifying.
"So your mom doesn't waste her money." She nodded, ignoring the niggling little part of her mind that whispered, 'that's not quite true'.
"Right."
"Right," Eddie echoed, pulling away from her. "So, uh, was Carrie like a come to Jesus moment for you or what?"
They both laughed, a little nervously, at his joke. "Kind of? I guess? But, um, I've been thinking about breaking up with Jason all week. Since he left for break."
Chrissy pulled her sleeves over her hands again, bunching the fabric in her palms and stealing a shy glance at Eddie. She couldn't quite read the expression on his face, the way his dark eyes flicked away from for hers.
"Why…" he started, fumbling with the remote. A push of the power button and they were plunged into darkness without the glow of the TV. "Uh, why do you wanna do it?"
"Because he's mean." It was easier to confess when surrounded by the shadows. "He's not nice to anyone who doesn't fit his idea of a good person. And sometimes—a lot of times—I'm not his idea of a good person."
A heavy silence grew between them. Heavy, solemn with the air of confession, but not awkward. Not scary. Chrissy sighed into that silence, swiping at her cheeks where tears had begun to fall. "Has, um, Max…? Has Max ever said anything to you about me?"
"No? Are you crying, Chris?" There was rustling on the couch beside her, a hand on her knee. She laid hers on top of his and he threaded their fingers again, giving her an anchor.
"Yeah, a little, but it's okay. Just, um… can I tell you something?" Eddie nodded, forgetting the dark around them, and squeezed her fingers instead in encouragement.
"I don't know what Max goes for, but, um, we both go to Ms. Kelly. The guidance counselor? Not for grades. Well, not for me, I don't go for grades. Jason, he… he doesn't like that I go, and he picks on me for it. He likes to bring it up when we argue, and he calls me crazy. Tells me I should be happy to be head cheerleader, to be with him. To be happy so many good things have happened to someone not right in the head." Chrissy laughed despite herself, the sound fragile and devoid of humor. "You're not the only one he calls a freak, Eddie."
The tears were coming in earnest now. Chrissy swallowed, hard. Even as the weight of Jason's two-year long scrutiny began to lift from her, cold fingers of anxiety and fear shot through her stomach. She shook her head, trying to dislodge the urge to excuse herself to the bathroom.
"Chrissy." The hand around hers was clutching tight, so that she could feel the cool metal press of his rings. It wasn't unpleasant, actually. He pulled her into his arms, cradling her head on his shoulder again. "Chrissy, you are not a freak. Jason's the fucking freak if he can't see what a good thing he has in you."
"You don't think I'm weird for needing counseling?"
"Who gives a shit if you tell your problems to Ms. Kelly or your parents or your friends? Who give a shit?" Eddie laughed, but there was a hard edge to it, and anger-tinged humor. "Jason Carver is the biggest goddamn idiot I've ever heard of. He's luckier than he deserves that you're even still going to prom with him."
She held his hand the entire drive home.
Come the morning, Chrissy skipped breakfast. She got her nails done with some of the other girls from cheerleading. She let her mom carefully place large rollers in her hair and let them set for the majority of her day. She skipped lunch. She stared at her pink satin Gunne Sax dress hanging on her bedroom door. She carefully did up her eyes with the soft, powder-blue she preferred; coated her lashes in mascara, brightened her face with blush, slicked pink lip gloss across her lips.
Once her hair was arranged and hair sprayed into place, and her mom had done up the zipper on her dress for—blessedly—the last time, Chrissy was the picture of prom perfection.
"Look how beautiful you are, honey." Mom turned her toward her bedroom mirror. Her hair was voluminous, gently curled around her face. Though too small originally, the dress fit her perfectly, the sweetheart neckline accentuating the delicate ridge of her collarbones. "I know it was hard work for you to be this beautiful tonight, honey, but you'll be so thankful to have these pictures to look back on. Trust me."
And there were plenty of pictures. Jason had returned from his trip tanned and jovial. He presented Chrissy with a rose corsage that just perfectly matched her dress. They posed for pictures for what felt like hours until, finally, they were sent out the door with one last hug from her dad.
"Have fun tonight, baby." He kissed her carefully on the cheek, so as not to mess up her makeup.
"I will, Daddy," Chrissy made herself lie, knowing that the prom aftermath wouldn't be so fun. If she came off as dour at all, Jason was in too buoyant of a mood himself to notice it.
"We're going to get prom queen and king tonight, babe, I know it. What a perfect end to a perfect senior year, huh?" Jason's smile was bright in the intermittent streetlights as they drove to Hawkins High. She tried to smile back, pushing away memories of their fights throughout the year and all the times she had thrown up in the school bathroom because of them. Not to mention all the times she had fasted, dieted, and purged to maintain the perfect body for senior pictures, cheer competition, the homecoming game…
"Completely perfect," she agreed. And it would be, on the surface. In the pictures. In the only way that mattered to Jason or her mother.
Jason held her hand as he led her inside the tulle and streamers draped gym. Glitter was all over the floor, sparkling as she followed him to a table full of his basketball friends and their dates. Chrissy smiled at the other girls, traded compliments about dresses and shoes and hair, and tried desperately to ignore the rising panic in her.
Fake, she thought to herself, letting Jason pull her into the center of the gym for a dance. This is all fake.
"You look so hot tonight," he whispered to her, skimming a hand a little too low down her back. His breath was muggy on her neck and already smelled of alcohol; several of the basketball boys, Jason included, had snuck in a flask.
"You don't look so bad yourself," Chrissy forced herself to say, trying for coyness. It wasn't a lie. Jason did look handsome, but in that boring, Ken-doll way of his. The tux fit him nicely and the dark navy color set off his blue eyes, as did his tan.
She accepted a shot from Jason's flask between dances, letting the straight vodka burn down her throat and settle warmly in her empty stomach. If she was going to have to get through the night, Chrissy figured a little liquid courage wouldn't hurt. Jason kept her on the dance floor for much of the night, a little too handsy every time. But she didn't want to fight, not here in front of all their classmates.
Between her empty stomach, dancing, and shots—she had taken five by the time the prom began to wrap up—Chrissy was able to survive the night with her sanity. Neither she nor Jason had discussed any after-prom plans; she had assumed they would change and hit up someone's after party. Jason, though, had a different idea.
Chrissy was actually laughing when they drunkenly clamored back into Jason's car. That is until Jason leaned over and kissed her, hard, and held up a set of keys for her inspection. Chrissy went cold at the sight.
"Oh."
"Oh?" Jason repeated, the rascally expression slipping from his face. "Oh?"
"I just… I wasn't expecting…" Jason's eyes hardened, hand fisting over the keys.
"What's with the prudish act, Chrissy? It's not like we haven't before! I'm the one who took your virginity, for God's sake!"
"So you think that entitles you to have sex with me now?" Chrissy snapped. "If I don't want to, then I don't have to."
"It's fucking prom, Chrissy!" Jason snapped, slamming his hands on the steering wheel.
"That doesn't entitle you to sex, either!"
"What the hell is this really about, huh? First, it's Ms. Kelly. Then, it's that Munson freak. Now you want to ruin prom, huh? Is that what you want? Just put the rotten cherry on top of how shitty you've made my senior year?"
"What I want is to break up with you!" Chrissy shouted, surprising both of them. "I want to break up with you, okay? Not have sex with you. Not sit in this car for another minute."
She reached for the door handle, flinging it open and running the short distance to the Hawkins High lawn. There was barely a moment to spare hoping she wouldn't end up with grass stains on her dress before she was retching on her knees.
All that came up was vodka and stomach acid, burning back up her throat. She swiped at the tears threatening to spill from her watering eyes and pushed herself to her feet just in time to see Jason's car tearing out of the school parking lot.
Chrissy took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of grass and the sour tinge of her own vomit. The one small blessing of the night was that she and Jason had been alone in the parking lot during the fight. Our last fight. Thankfully, Chrissy had grabbed her small clutch before running from Jason's car. Teetering in her heels, she walked across the lawn to the row of payphones and counted out the change she needed.
"Please be home," she begged the night, the universe, listening to the phone ring. "Please, please be home."
After five torturous rings came the only voice she wanted to hear at the moment.
"Hello?" Eddie asked on the other end of the line, sounding surprised to have a call. Chrissy took another shaky, deep breath and blinked back fresh tears.
"Hey, um… it's me. Um, could I ask you for the biggest favor?"
"Always, Chrissy. Always. What do you need?"
She smiled, even as the tears fell down her cheeks, unable to hold them back anymore. "Could you come pick me up? From the high school. And, um, hurry, please. I'm alone out here and it's kind of creepy in the dark."
"I'll be there in five minutes."
Given Eddie Munson's driving record, Chrissy didn't doubt it. She hung up the phone and went to sit on the curb in her prom dress to wait.