Indianapolis, April 27, 1990
True to her word, Chrissy wore her Corroded Coffin t-shirt to their next bar show. It was dug up from the very back of her closet, a place of secret remembrance the shirt had carried since she had moved into her freshman year dorm. Unbeknownst to anyone but herself, that shirt had been a massive source of comfort for Chrissy as she adapted to college life.
When she was missing Eddie, she used to sneak a sniff of the shirt to set herself right. For the entirety of freshman year, it had still carried his scent: spiced cologne and cigarette smoke, a hint of his leather jacket as she had taken to wearing it on the cooler summer nights. That scent never failed to bolster her that year, a year of gaining her footing in independence and recovery and healing.
Though the scent had long since faded, the comfort of the soft, worn t-shirt was the same. It felt surreal to slip it over her head once more; mor surreal still to be wearing it to The Doghouse, the college bar that quickly became the backdrop for the party girl phase her group of friends fell into sophomore year.
She smiled to herself, thinking back to all the shots taken, the karaoke sung, and the boys that had been kissed in that bar. Never mind that they had been underage sophomore year, a gaggle of twenty-year-old girls. The Doghouse was jus as bad as The Hideout back home when it came to checking ID.
"Hey, you ready?" Mandy's voice on the other side of her bedroom door broke Chrissy from her reverie. She grabbed her purse and hastily tucked the t-shirt into her skirt and stepped out of her room.
"Let's go," she said, linking arms with her friend. A fizzy excitement she hadn't felt since she was new to Indianapolis filled her chest, her limbs, her head. It was only a few blocks from their apartment to the bar and the spring night was fresh without being truly cold.
"If I ask you something, will you tell me?" Mandy asked as they walked. Other Butler U students milled around them on the sidewalks. The celebratory air of another finals week survived was catching; the girls waved to several friends and acquaintances they had made over the years in college.
"Maybe," Chrissy hedged, knowing before the words left Amanda's mouth that the question would be about Eddie.
"Why haven't you ever spoken about him?" To her surprise, Chrissy's heart didn't drop as her assumptions were confirmed. Neither did it leap into her throat to choke any attempts at a reply. This is okay, she thought, her mantra having become a statement of fact. I'm okay.
"Eddie… God, how do I even explain it without sounding like a total idiot? I know he cares about me. A lot. And he did then, too. It's just…"
As the night deepened around them and a multitude of stars began to shine overhead, Chrissy searched her friend's face. There was nothing there to indicate that Mandy did, in fact, think her an idiot. In Mandy, she had a confidant nearly as knowledgeable about her life as Eddie was. There were things—veiled things—that she could say to Mandy with full trust the other girl would discern the meaning. The same she had said to Eddie in the past.
"In Hawkins, I was Jason's girlfriend at school. And at home, I was my mom's project. With Eddie, I was just Chrissy. I liked that best, and I knew I needed more of it. I needed to get out of Hawkins. Eddie knew it, too, and… well, he cared enough to let me go."
Love had long been a word she felt for Eddie, yet one she hadn't ever been able to say aloud. Mandy's face softened. She understood, but then, Chrissy knew she would. "He's a really good guy, Chrissy."
"I know. Don't think I'm not thrilled to have run into him."
"Oh, I know you are. You've been smiling like an idiot since you saw him Tuesday night. Before you even dropped the bombshell you know him."
Chrissy hit Mandy with her hip, causing both of them to stumble a little as they still had their arms linked. The girls were laughing when they walked through the bar's door in tandem, earning themselves a rueful shake of the head from the bouncer they passed. Still smiling, they found Sarah and Jess holding down one of the tables toward the front, near the stage area.
"Okay," Jess moved the jacket and purse that had marked Chrissy and Amanda's saved seats and immediately got down to business, "Sarah's got Kevin even if he isn't accounted for, and Chrissy's got Eddie. But that leaves me and Amanda woefully alone for the night. I say we see if The Doghouse still has the magic touch for us."
"Hope you're ready to settle for a freshie, Mandy," Sarah flipped open a compact mirror to check her wine-colored lipstick. "The place is crawling with them."
There were quite a few suspiciously young faces in the crowded bar, some still so baby-ish that even 'college freshman' was pushing it. "Might want to check ID even if the doorman doesn't," Chrissy teased.
Mandy's lips quirked into a sour pout as she scanned her eyes around the room. "Well… we're graduating next weekend, it's not like we have to keep any of them. Might as well give a few of them stories to tell their friends."
"That's the enthusiasm I need tonight. Let's go." Just like that, the foursome was back to a pair once more. Sighing, Sarah waved her hand to flag down a bartender to order herself and Chrissy watermelon sparklers, really driving home Chrissy's sense of nostalgia over the bar that had been the backdrop for most of her weekends sophomore year.
The duo didn't have long to enjoy the table alone, though. Their drinks had just arrived in their hands when Jess and Mandy's seats were taken by Jeff and Eddie. The latter greeted Chrissy with a kiss to the cheek before helping himself to a sip of her drink. "Why do you love hangovers so much, Chris?"
"It's not that strong," Chrissy defended, reclaiming her drink and taking her own sip. The watermelon's sweetness cut the burn of the vodka.
"It tastes like candy." Eddie was a firm believer that Chrissy's predisposition for hangovers was due to her love of sweet, fruity drinks. "I don't wanna hear about your headache in the morning."
"You would be honored to hear me complain," Chrissy defiantly drained half her glass at Eddie's chastising. Both Eddie and Jeff were left surprised and laughing at her boldness. Eddie took her face between his ringed hands and kissed her on the mouth.
"You're not wrong." Eddie punctuated his words with another peck on Chrissy's lips. Then, to Sarah, "Try not to let her slam too many of these. I'm more than willing to carry her home, but I'm not as young as I used to be, either."
With that they were left alone again, swallowed up by the crowd and presumably heading toward the stage to join Gareth and Adam. When Chrissy turned back to Sarah, she found a wistful look on her friend's face.
"I miss Kevin," Sarah admitted. Over top of the table, Chrissy gave her friend's hand a squeeze.
"He's coming for graduation, right?"
"Yeah, thank God our ceremonies are on opposite weekends. What about him?" With a jut of her chin, Sarah motioned to the stage where Eddie was sitting atop an amp and tuning his electric guitar for the show. "Is he coming? They'll still be in town, right?"
"They will be," Chrissy responded, noncommittal. Did she want Eddie to watch her graduate? More than anything. But was she also afraid that asking him to attend would put a weight on their rekindling that neither were prepared for? Most definitely.
Rather than expanding on her answer, Chrissy watched Eddie. He had his head cocked to the side, listening so intently that his tongue poked between his lips in concentration. Rather than tying his hair back, tonight he wore a very familiar bandana wrapped around his head. His own Corroded Coffin t-shirt was partially obstructed by the sleeveless, unbuttoned flannel he wore over top of it.
That wave of déjà vu washed over her again. How had it only been four days? Four days that had completely bridged the chasm left by four years apart?
Yes, she wanted him at her graduation. And every day between that Friday and next Saturday. And every day beyond, as well.
Corroded Coffin was not the only band to play at The Doghouse that night. Their set was immediately followed up by a local band, one whose name Chrissy didn't care to catch. She was far more interested in the game of pool that she and her friends were engaged in. Shirking convention, they played on two teams of four, guys versus girls. A little unsteady on her heels, Chrissy leaned on her pool stick and watched Adam take his turn, waiting for her own.
The beat of the song the second band was playing thrummed through her chest. She forgot how much she liked live shows. Not to mention nights out with the guys. For a long stint there—the whole summer—Chrissy had been the only girl in the was good to have her friends around now, to see Gareth balk at Sarah's competitive streak rearing its head amongst the game. And Jeff and Jessica, who had hit it off better than any of the other college boys in the bar had. She wasn't surprised to see Mandy emerging from Jess' scheming unscathed; her best friend and roommate was still very much healing from her recent break up.
"Alright, Chris, use those math skills you always loved showing off." Eddie made way for her at the pool table, eyes shining with amusement when she wobbled a bit in her shoes. Her stubbornness had gotten the best of her; she was more than halfway through her third watermelon sparkler. The point she had been trying to prove to Eddie wasn't going well.
Perhaps he would have to carry her home.
Chrissy glared at Eddie, only making him smile wider, before she leaned over the table to take her shot. The cue ball rolled quickly after being hit, but ultimately ricocheted off the edge of the velvet table rather than sinking the blue striped ball she had been trying for.
"Boooooo!" Jessica's disdain was aimed directly at the pool table rather than Chrissy. Nearly all the striped balls remained on the table. Only Sarah had managed to sink any of them, but one against four was proving to be too steep of odds. "I demand a rematch when we're sober."
The girls had matched each other drink by drink. Chrissy, by far, was the lightweight of her friends. Even with her vodka-muddled mind, she knew Jess shouldn't have been as far gone as she seemed. It was surely an excuse to be able to lean into Jeff, Chrissy was sure. Even as she thought it, she did the same to Eddie, fitting herself to his side and wrapping her arms around his middle. His chuckle vibrated against her cheek. "You're getting sleepy."
"No," Chrissy protested, even as she nuzzled her face into the soft flannel of his shirt. Another chuckle rumbled beneath her cheek. Of course, Eddie knew she was lying. He has seen her like this plenty of times before and knew that once Chrissy started to get sleepy, she had hit her wall where alcohol was concerned.
"Yeah, you are." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, rubbed a hand between her shoulder blades. "Do you want the rest of your drink or do you want me to finish it off?"
She smiled despite herself at the old compromise that had long stood between them on other nights similar to this one. "I'll do it."
With a fumbling hand, she plucked her drink from the side table she had set it on and gulped it down, all while keeping one arm hooked firmly around Eddie.
"Oooooh, Chrissy's done for," Gareth commented, catching on to how she hung from Eddie.
"Yup," Mandy agreed. "That's our sleepy baby. Better take her home so she doesn't regret being alive tomorrow."
A hand lifted from where it rested on Eddie's stomach to flip both of them off. The raucous laughter of her friends made Chrissy smile, immediately forgetting her prior ire. "I'm not drunk," she reminded Eddie as he began leading her through the bar after a round of goodbyes to their friends.
"No one said you were, Chris," he reminded her mildly. "But you wanna go home, right? You wanna go to bed? Yeah? Well, alright Cinderella. Let's get you home."
The night had grown colder while they had been in the bar, sending Chrissy to hug herself tighter against Eddie. The arm around her shoulders tightened in response, their pace quickening. Neither of them had thought to take jackets to the bar.
"College taught me a lot, but not how to make it past three drinks," Chrissy told him. Her head was still swimming from the alcohol, though the bite of the night air was giving her a bit more clarity. "We used to go to The Doghouse all the time, sophomore year."
"Party girl Chrissy, huh? I'm sad I missed that one."
"No, you're not." They were only a block away from her apartment complex. Chrissy sped up again, as much as she dared in her heels, anxious to be warm inside. "I tried to go for four drinks once and ended up bawling all over the place. I'm a crier if I let myself get fully drunk."
Once in the lobby, Chrissy fished her keys from her purse and placed them firmly in Eddie's hand. She felt steadier, now, having walked in the spring chill. Still, she left it to him to unlock the door when she came to her apartment.
Though the setting was the same, this night felt entirely different than the first time Chrissy had brought Eddie to her apartment. Giggling, Chrissy let Eddie lift her and set her on the side table in the entrance way. It typically housed keys and mail but currently Chrissy sat perched on it while Eddie crouched to undo the ankle strap of her heels. He slipped each of her foot with all the chivalry of Prince Charming.
"You're spoiling me."
"Well, I did make you walk home." Relieved of her shoes, Chrissy was left in her stocking feet. Eddie ran his hands up the curve of her calves, peering up at her all the while. When they reached the valley behind her knees, he gave her a small squeeze. "C'mon, I promised I'd get you in bed."
"Gonna make me walk there, too?" She asked saucily. With a smirk, Eddie stood. As his hands were already positioned on the underside of her knees, it was all too easy for him to lift her so that her legs wrapped around his waist. Chrissy wrapped her arms around his neck as well, ducking her head to kiss him. She tugged at the knot of his bandana as well, so that it loosened and fell from his head. "I can't believe you still have this."
"Consider it a token of survival," Eddie told her. For all his complaining about aging, he carried her effortlessly through the apartment.
"The scars weren't enough?" Her fingertips found the one that marred his jaw once more. They had made it to her bedroom by that point. Eddie laid her back on her bed, one hand spanning upward over her thigh and exactly finding the spot where her own skin was pitted by a silver, ropy scar despite her legs being covered by dark tights.
"Not that I survived, Chris." He plucked the bandana from her hand and carefully set it on her bedside table. "That you and Dustin got out of that godforsaken place."
Chrissy stilled at that, letting his words settle over her as he carefully removed the thin tights for her. When he made to undo the row of buttons on her skirt, though, she stilled his hand with a touch of her own. Then she sat up beneath him, catching him by the back of the neck to hold him still so she could kiss him.
As the kiss wore on, Eddie took hold of her waist and guided her into his lap so that her thighs straddled his hips.
"I know it's an old revelation," she told him, tipping her forehead to his, "but sometimes it just... hits me. I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you, Eddie."
"Neither would I," he laughed, kissing her again. "I think we're pretty even as far as debts go, Chrissy."
She smiled a little at that, because she couldn't argue that her debt was heartier, though that long how she had felt. Instead, she slipped her hands beneath the hem of his t-shirt and lightly raked her nails up and down his sides. He shivered a little, goosebumps breaking out over his skin. Between her legs, she felt the telltale hardening beneath his jeans.
"We're even on that count," she agreed, sliding his shirt over his head. "But not on this one."
"Oh, paying me back for the other night?" Incorrigible as ever, Eddie gave her one of his wide smiles, excitement shining in his dark eyes. He laid back on her bed, hands behind his head, the picture of ease. "Now I'm really upset I didn't get to experience party girl Chrissy in her prime."
"Oh, shut up," she told him, the restraint humor evident in her voice. Chrissy stretched herself along the length of him to kiss him again. Despite his display of expectation, it didn't last long. He sat up again, an arm hooking around her hips to keep her steady, his free hand tugging her own Corroded Coffin t-shirt free and slipping it over her head.
"Actually, I like being an active player," he smirked up at her. Chrissy returned the smirk, pairing it with a teasing shake of the head, when his hands returning to the buttons of her skirt.
"Don't I know it," she teased, but stilled again while he made quick work of her skirt. "Fair's fair, though." Chrissy reached for his belt before the skirt even hit the floor.
The second morning Chrissy woke with Eddie in her bed, she was dressed—albeit not in her own Corroded Coffin t-shirt—and tangled in the sheets and Eddie's limbs alike. One of his hands was beneath her shirt, fingers curled around the curve of her waist. His other hand greeted her when she opened her eyes; her head was pillowed on his arm.
She stretched as much as she was able to without disturbing him, though that proved to be a difficult task. Eddie's legs were twined with hers. Chrissy settled in to wait, watching the morning sun glint off the rings on his fingers.
There was a dull throb in her head, but it was slight. Decidedly not the worst hangover she had ever had and definitely not one she was going to admit to having.
Eddie's exhalations tickled on the crown of her head, still the deep, even breathing of the sleeping. As if he has so much reason to be tired, she mused to herself, thinking again of last night. True to her word, she had remained on top while they made love. She thought a small headache and a slight soreness in her thighs was well worth a night with Eddie.
While she reminisced on how he had buried his head in her shoulder, gasping her name against her skin, the arm wrapped around her tightened. She was pulled flush against Eddie, his lips pressing to the top of her head before he murmured, "How long have you been up?"
"A few minutes." Chrissy rolled herself in his arm, grazing her fingertips over his morning stubble. "Good morning."
"Mmm," he hummed, eyes still screwed shut against the day, but smiling beneath her touch. Another errant kiss landed on her eyebrow. Chrissy giggled, fairly certain it was meant for her forehead. His hand was still beneath her shirt, fingers now tracing mindless patterns across her back. "I may have told the guys we would hang out with them today—they want the Chrissy lowdown on good local spots since we'll be in town all week—but I'm starting to regret that."
"Oh yeah?" Chrissy asked, fiddling with the guitar pick necklace he wore around his neck.
"Yeah, see, I already know my favorite spot in Indianapolis. I'm also terrible at sharing, but I don't know what anyone would expect from an only child. Besides all of that, I'm pretty sure your bed is only big enough for two, specifically me and you." By the time he finished the last word, Chrissy's shoulders were shaking with repressed laughter.
"Don't make me laugh like that," Chrissy chastised him through her giggles. "We're gonna wake up Mandy."
"Hey, now, don't go giving me a challenge." She was still laughing when Eddie caught her by the waist and rolled him under her. All he did, though, was pepper kisses over her face, neck, and collarbones. "But for real, we should probably get up," he told her, nodding toward her alarm clock. The clock face read 12:39.
"Oh, my God!" Chrissy wiggled out from beneath Eddie, scrambling out of the twisted bed covers. "I don't even know the last time I slept this late."
"But you're not hungover, huh?" He teased her, sitting up with his hair in a mussed halo around his head.
"What's your excuse?" Chrissy dodged the question, tossing the duffel bag Eddie had left with her yesterday at him. He caught it easily, unzipping it to retrieve his bathroom stuff.
"I'm on tour, Chris. I can lean into the rockstar lifestyle all I want before returning to the menial days of adulthood."