"Okay, that's enough for today." A figure moves to stand in front of the group of teenagers, 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 and 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 die down when the door closes, leaving only one person left in the large room.

Finally alone, the bright smile on her face disappears. That mask is useless if no one is 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 hallways of Hawkins High are practically empty in the evening. Most after-school clubs and teams have already gone home at this point. All that's normally left are the janitors pushing brooms or mops around, 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 likely 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, this building seems 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. But 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 toward the clock right above the entrance. That only makes it worse. Time keeps ticking on and there's nothing to do to stop it. And going in and demanding the team to end practice isn't an option. That'll only upset Jason… He'll say she embarrassed him in front of his friends and the younger members who look up to him.

'What should I do? I'm already late.'

It's always a lose-lose situation. The later she is, the more irate her father will be. And leaving or interrupting practice will make Jason mad. He's also the self-designated ride home… There's no winning. Either way, someone will be angry.

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?"

The voice dashes away any worry of repercussions. She jumps 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 just a couple of feet away.

"Oh." It comes out more like a sigh of relief than an actual word as recognition sets in. A hand lands on her chest as she tries to regain her composure, suddenly feeling like the biggest fool in the world.

There wasn't some monster or serial killer skulking around the darkened school halls searching for some hapless teen foolish enough to stay after the sun went down… like her wild imagination envisioned. No, 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, 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 as the shaggy-haired man stares at her. Eddie Munson. The person Jason is always butting heads with. Have they ever spoken before? She can't recall but doesn't think so. That would probably be memorable. He sticks out like a sore thumb in every way.

"Didn't mean to scare you." He takes a step back with his hands slightly raised. Almost 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.

His 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 gets too close or makes any sudden movements? Something about that really bothers her.

'Get it together.'

"No, it's fine. I'm just… a little jumpy." She laughs it off with a wave, trying to slip the mask back on without making it too obvious. Different excuses race through her mind in hopes of finding something that sounds plausible without being too off-putting. "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. Not the best response but it'll have to do.

"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 outfit, the corner of his mouth curling up. A 'cheerleader'. The type of character that gets murdered early on in a movie.

"Yeah…" she chuckles softly, turning her gaze towards the floor. It makes this a little easier. One thing she always thought about Eddie was that he's intimidating. That's enough to avoid him by itself. The tattoos, hair, chains, and clothing just add to it. And his behavior? It's shocking. Always so loud, unruly, and doing whatever he pleases without a single care.

'Please, go away.'

Part of her is too afraid to say the words out loud. Would he get angry? Is there a polite way to get out of this situation without looking bad? What does he want? Another stress rears its ugly head. What if Jason suddenly comes out into the hall? He despises Eddie 'the freak'. Will he pick a fight? Or be upset with her for talking to him? She doesn't have the time or energy to deal with any of that.

"Anyway… It looked like something was wrong, so I just wanted to see if you're okay." His voice is a little softer, quieter. 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 of responses loaded and ready for any interaction that might happen. That's the norm. It doesn't need to be long or true, just enough to satisfy the person asking questions. Isn't that what her mother taught her?

Chrissy opens her mouth to answer, but 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. Just 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 just know she's lying. Where that idea comes from is anyone's guess.

She can't bring herself to look at his face, opting to focus on anything but that. Like the large, heavy rings on his fingers. Or the chain connected to his belt loop. The sleeves of his worn-out leather jacket he's always wearing... And the denim vest with pins and patches from bands she's never listened to over that. 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."

"I'm sorry, Chris. You know the championships are coming up. We need all the extra time on the court we can get." Jason explains, holding the door open for her. "This is going to be the big year."

A blast of cold air hits the couple the moment they step outside of the school. 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—"

"Well, your dad needs to lighten up a bit. He's too strict sometimes." There's a sharpness to his tone as a frown forms on his face. He's not happy. It makes her uncomfortable, like she needs to do something to change that.

"You're right. It'll be okay. Just 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 talking about basketball or the team. 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's further out than necessary. Parking away from everyone else will decrease 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. Every muscle is tense from the agitation surging through him. And it's not from the weather. "What is that freak up to?"

Looking in the same direction, Chrissy sees a figure 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? Or 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 through his clenched teeth. The hold on her is becoming uncomfortable, though it's not on purpose.

"Maybe he sees you looking at him?"

"No. The only reason I looked over was 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, yet holds back when they're together.

"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 start bubbling 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. It'll only raise more questions. There's enough to deal with as it is without needing to add any more on.

'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 glances at Jason from the side. It seems like he's in a much better mood now. Eddie Munson is long gone from his mind. At least one of them is at ease.

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 in front of her house and parks beneath a streetlight. "Sorry about earlier… And the car not warming up fast enough." 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.

"No, that's okay. None of it is your fault. 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 tenderly, 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 softly. She doesn't stop him, despite it not being the time or place. They're right out front of her house. Someone might see them or tell her dad. Word spreads around fast in a small town like Hawkins. Everyone is constantly in everyone else's business. It's not a secret that they're dating, but getting caught doing anything doesn't look good.

Still, Chrissy doesn't stop him. She closes her eyes and lets him deepen the kiss, trying to forget what's waiting for her outside of this car. How foolish. This will only make things worse. 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 almost scares her but she's not sure what to do.

"Just make sure you keep him happy."

Even if it means that? That can't be right. It doesn't really feel that way. Not yet, 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. Small, trembling hands reach up and push at his shoulders, trying to get him to back away.

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

"I–I'm sorry. It's just that… 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. If only there was a way to disappear… That would be really useful. It takes a second for her to stop rambling off a list before the car suddenly becomes too quiet. Jason leans back in his seat and lets out a deep, exasperated breath. One that fuels another round of anxiety on top of the many layers already present.

"It's always something." He says it under his breath, but she just barely catches it. And that hurts. Much more than expected.

"I'm really sorry. I'll make it up to you." Chrissy blurts out, not knowing what the hell she's actually saying. Part of her just feels the need to fix this. To somehow appease him. Anything that doesn't involve crossing that line in this instance. That seems to grab his attention. He throws her a side glance, one of his eyebrows cocking up. "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 just 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. Pushing things won't help any. "Go ahead. If your dad's angry… just blame it on me. He can call my folks if there are any issues. 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… Sorry about that." There's discomfort in his voice. 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… Such a disaster. Hopefully they can move past this. Not wanting to waste any more time, she skips the walkway altogether and trudges across the lawn. The Jeep's still parked beneath the streetlight when she reaches the porch. He always waits until he knows she gets in to leave. 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's 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 excellent. 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. I'm 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 just doing paperwork?

"You know what I'm going to say. I do not 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 or mistake now ends up completely blown out of proportion. Some days he's passive, stoic, 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. The boy has championships coming up. If he can manage to squeeze out a win in the end..." Tearing his gaze away from her, he focuses on the paperwork on the desk, quietly rubbing his chin in thought. "This is his last chance. Getting the trophy will put Hawkins back in the news. Good for business. And looks great for both of them. I should get ahold of John."

'Is he talking to himself again?'

It doesn't appear to be a landmine day. Bringing up Jason and basketball might've helped with avoiding that.

"Well, don't just stand there. Go start dinner. It's already late. Then do your chores and homework." He waves her off, picking up a pen and diving back into his files. 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 late. Already eleven, but thankfully tomorrow is a Saturday. A welcome and rare 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 and acquaintances, 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, strict routine that has little to no room for spontaneity. God forbid if she falls off the beaten path. It's all been laid out for her since the beginning. 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 middle 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 as a freshman and sophomore. There's no one here anymore to constantly monitor food intake or count calories.

"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. Skin? Too pale. These legs and arms are too skinny. Lips aren't plump enough. Eyes are too big. Same with the 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, but it all comes back to the physical form in the mirror. This body isn't womanly enough. If she ever crosses that line with Jason, this alone might be enough to 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 everything? The pressure, expectations, appearances, and status? All the while being the best version of herself for everyone to see? Can she do it?

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

And everyone wants too much. Expects the world of her. Even Jason, who 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 prominent family. The top basketball player for their school with so much potential. Of course he'd need an equally matched counterpart. Both sets of 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 and take over the company. She's meant to become a good wife and mother that'll continue cheering for him from the sidelines. A career is fine as long as it doesn't interfere with building their suburban nuclear family. Continuing the Carver legacy and tying it to the Cunninghams is of most importance.

'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 most popular girl who's sweet as pumpkin pie and smart as a whip. 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. When will the bough finally break? If it keeps going, something bad might happen…

"Hey… You okay?"

When's the last time someone asked that? And not just out of politeness or obligation? Or genuinely cared? Who knows. It's been too long. Perhaps Eddie was just being nice and none of that actually matters. Still, he has no reason to even bother. Did she look that troubled? Must have…

What did he see in that hallway that compelled him to say something? To be honest, the entire interaction was unsettling. That knowing look… Even when she tried playing it off. No one else ever seemed so openly doubtful of her words. Her bullshit. It might be best to avoid him. Someone like that just might ruin everything.

'No, I'm not okay. But no one's allowed to know that…'