We're getting close to the end now... thanks for reading.
TW: Talk of eating disorders.
"You are not a fuck up," Eddie told Chrissy, never so sure about anything in his life. The look in her eyes told him she didn't believe him.
She was silent on the ride home. She hadn't bothered to change and was clammy and cold by the time they got to the trailer. She went to the bathroom and turned the shower as hot as it'd go, the tiny space filling quickly with steam.
Eddie helped her pull the damp shirt over her head and she stepped into the shower in her bikini and he pulled the shower curtain shut for her. He didn't question it. They'd had sex numerous times, but that didn't mean he had access to her all the time. She still deserved privacy.
She handed the wet bikini top and bottoms through an opening in the curtain and he rang them out in the sink, hanging them on the towel rack to dry. Soon he smelled her shampoo and he retreated to the bedroom.
When she finally emerged from the bathroom he was laying in bed, trying to focus on the paperback he was reading. As she crawled into bed, still smelling faintly of chlorine and wearing one of his oversized t-shirts they wrapped their bodies around each other, needing that connection. Needing one another's touch.
Words were not needed.
Chrissy spent the next few days in a daze. Eddie pulled out all his go-to's to bring her back to the surface. Tastee Freeze. Double sprinkles. Fleetwood Mac. He sang to her. She put on a good face that didn't fool him. Still, he did his best to cheer her up.
If she didn't have to work she slept till noon. Something very different for her. She considered 'sleeping in' nine in the morning. One morning, after a particularly restless night, he put on one of her favorite records and went into the bedroom singing along to one of her favorite songs.
Now here you go again, you say you want your freedom
She'd immediately covered her ears against his impersonation of Stevie Nicks's cool, wiry voice. Chrissy loved a good throwback. This was the first album she bought with money she'd saved up when she was just ten years old and he loved that. Loved that she took a liking to music at such a young age. It was one of the few things about their childhood that they had in common.
Usually playing it lifted her spirits. Usually.
Well, who am I to keep you down?
It's only right that you should play the way you feel it
He continued, doing his version of Stevie's gypsy dance, raising his arms slowly, rocking his hips back and forth.
But listen carefully to the sound of your loneliness
"Oh my God," she finally laughed, closing her eyes against the sight, pulling the sheet over her head.
Like a heartbeat, drives you mad
In the stillness of remembering what you had
He didn't care how ridiculous he looked, he'd do anything to make her smile. He pulled the blankets off the bed and onto the floor, continuing to sing.
Oh, thunder only happens when it's raining
Players only love you when they're playing
"Stop," she cracked up. Standing, she walked a circle on top of the mattress, holding her hands over her ears, the hem of the t-shirt she wore inching up over her thighs. "Stopppp!"
And when he didn't stop, she flung herself at him and he caught her mid-air. To keep from tumbling to the floor, she wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. His hands grasped her ass.
"Ooof. Not in the mood for Stevie? Okay. Would you prefer a little Tears for Fears, then? Everybody wants to rule the world," he sang, dancing them back and forth.
Then she'd kiss him. He mumbled the next line against her lips, the words falling away as her kisses always rendered his mind to mush. This is how she disarmed him.
He told her time and time again she didn't have to do anything she didn't want to. He even tried to refuse her, though it took every ounce of restraint he didn't even know he had to do so. She is very convincing and in the end, he couldn't resist.
He fell onto the bed with her and she pushed him onto his back, working her way down his torso, her lips tracing over his bare shirtless skin. Fingernails lightly dragging over his ribs, tickling and burning at the same time.
"Chrissy", he moaned. He buried his fingers in her messy hair, pulling lightly at the roots. He wasn't sure what he was trying to convince her of - to stop or to keep going. A little of both, maybe?
"Hmm?" She hummed innocently against the flesh just above his belly button. Hot breath against his skin sent goosebumps over his body.
"We don't have to do anything... if you're not feeling like it," he said, swallowing hard. Lifting up on his elbows to watch her.
She looked up at him with her doe eyes. "Don't you want to?" She looked crushed and the last thing he wanted to do was upset her more.
He quickly amended, "I just want to make sure you know that you can tell me no."
She sighed, a smile ghosted across her lips. "I love you, Eddie."
The words washed over him like smoke. Unzipping his pants, she freed him from his boxers. Taking him into her hand, slowly moving it up and down, she made him hard and hot. Up and down, up and down. She slid her lips over the tip of his cock, winding her tongue in a circle around the tip forcing the air from his lungs. Her head began to bob, taking his full length into her mouth.
"Shit," he hissed out the word, falling back onto the pillow. "I love you too, Chrissy. I fucking love you."
Regardless of everything, their time together was as passionate as it ever had been. Being with Chrissy was the best experience of his life, even better than being on stage. She loved driving him to the edge of blissful madness while simultaneously clinging to him like he was the last man on earth.
Before he came too soon, he pulled her mouth off of him. She kneeled on the bed, shimmying out of her underwear. Slowly she straddled him, sheathing him. Encasing him inside her warm, velvety softness.
He was able to hold back until her body clamped around his; pulsating, quivering. Siphoning the life out of him - but in the best possible way.
He'd gladly sacrifice himself to her. If she was using him because it felt good or so she could lose herself for a short while he'd volunteer every single time. Luckily, she wasn't using him. She loved him, a fact that blew his fucking mind.
When he was buried inside of her, she came alive. That spark in her eyes came back for a short time.
He held onto those moments because for all his antics, she'd slip back into a stupor.
She was jumpy and didn't want to go out much. At her request, he drove her to work when he was able and picked her up, especially if it was after dark. She'd go to work and come back to the trailer, shower, hang out for a bit and then retreat into bed.
They'd hang out with Robin and Steve and Max and the rest of the group. Cook dinner together as they used to but it felt different. Forced, in a way. She was trying but she wasn't fooling him. Not even Robin could shake her from this depressed state. She and Chrissy would lay together on Eddie's bed, listening to music or talking. He caught them napping a time or two after smoking. Robin being there helped but it wasn't a cure-all.
The best nights are when it's just the two of them in their own little bubble. If only they didn't have to deal with the outside world and the problems it brought.
Going out was difficult. People watched them from afar as though they were an exhibit in a zoo. The cheerleader and the stoner. Two mixed-matched people that should not be together. Her old friends, friends of her parents. Jason's friends. It was stressful for Chrissy. Though Eddie couldn't give a shit less, he understood the impact it had on her.
He hoped their love would be enough for her to withstand the sudden right turn her life took the last few months before graduation. Now, almost into the fall, she seemed to be falling apart right before him and he felt useless to do anything about it.
He tried to bring it up what had happened at her parents. She tried to play it down, like she wasn't on the verge of a breakdown in her bathroom that day.
"I don't do it much anymore," she said casually with a roll of a shoulder.
"Why do you do it?" He asked, running a hand up her bare arm. They were in bed about to go to sleep and she had the blanket pulled up to her collarbone. Her eyes were heavy with sleep, their bodies satiated with sex.
"I don't know. It's more than a way to get rid of calories, it's more than a way to control my weight."
"I promise, I don't care what you weigh," he tried to reassure her. But she closed her eyes for a brief second, slightly shaking her head no.
"You say that now…"
"Now and for always."
She sighed and leaned into him. "It's like I get too full of everything. Life and all that goes along with it. It all gets to be too much. It feels like it's rotting inside of me and I have to get rid of it. I feel better afterward… lighter. For a short while. Then it slowly begins to build again."
"I'm sorry," he said for lack of anything better to contribute. He had no idea what to say to make it all better. "I wish I could help you."
"Don't be sorry, Eddie. You have helped me. More than anyone else ever has."
You have helped me. More than anyone else ever has. Yeah, he wasn't so sure about that.
He tried to keep his business away from Chrissy and away from the trailer if she was home. So when she walked in an hour earlier than expected one night, just as money was exchanging hands he felt like he'd been busted. She paused with a hand still on the doorknob, a look of surprise on her flushed face. Her tired eyes rounded.
"Hey, you're home early," he commented, taking the money from Dale, a long-time customer, and cousin two or three times removed. Dale casually placed the baggie into his pocket, eyeing Chrissy.
"Uh yeah, I got a headache. Sarah sent me home," she said of the shift manager. She placed her bag on the floor near the door, kicked off her shoes.
Eddie watched her. She didn't look like she felt well. She frowned and her shadowed eyes were red like she'd been crying.
"This your ol' lady?" Dale asked. "I heard you finally got yourself a girlfriend. Didn't know she was such a looker, though." He laughed, a dry barky sound.
Eddie didn't like the way Dale leered at her. He was Wayne's age. Missing most of his teeth and buying marijuana was the least of his illegal offenses.
"Yeah, uh. If we're done here…" Eddie said, standing. Dale didn't get the hint, remaining kicked back on the sofa.
"Well, I hope Eddie here is treating you well. What's your name? Who are your parents, sweetie?"
Chrissy looked from Eddie to Dale, brow furrowing in confusion. "My parents?"
"I probably know them"
"I… umm. I don't know about that," she said politely enough without answering his questions. "Eddie, I'm gonna go lay down." Head down, gaze avoidant, she went through the kitchen and disappeared into the short hallway. The light click of the bedroom door shutting behind her echoed loudly in Eddie's ears.
Chrissy changed into Eddie's sweatshirt and pulled her hair up into a ponytail. It had been a shitty day. A shipment was late. Some cranky man yelled at her because they were out of his brand of chips and someone dropped a whole gallon of milk on the tiled floor. The plastic jug broke, spilling milk all down the dairy aisle.
Worse than all of that, Jason showed up again, just as she was on her hands and knees cleaning up the milk spill underneath the racks that lined the aisle. He stood in front of her and as she looked up at him, he sneered. "Living up to that trailer park demographic, are you? Better get used to working on your knees." He proceeded to walk through the puddle of milk, tracking it down the aisle and out the door.
Then she came home to Eddie dealing pot right out of their house. Wait… no. This is not her house, she had to remind herself. It was no secret what Eddie did, she had no right or reason to be upset.
Why, then, was she upset? She knew why.
Soon enough the bedroom door creaked open and Eddie stuck his head in. She stood to the side of the bed, going through clothes in a basket she'd just washed the day before but had yet to fold. Trying to find a pair of shorts.
In her mother's home, everything had to be folded just so and put in its rightful place right away. She'd meant to fold everything and put it away the day before but ran out of time and going to bed with Eddie sounded way more appealing
He came up behind her and sat on the edge of the bed. She heard him lean over to the nightstand, picking up a pack of cigarettes. She heard the flick of a lighter, smelled the sharp scent of tobacco.
"You go to your interview?" She asked about the interview he had at the plant that day. Holding up a shirt, she sloppily folded it in half and then in half again.
She turned when he didn't answer. He blew a white line of smoke into the space above his head. "Yeah. I did. Said they'd hire me because of my uncle."
She waited for him to say more. "And?"
"A couple of bucks above minimum wage, forty hours a week. Occasional overtime during the outages. Vacation time. Yearly raises. Insurance." He rolled his eyes, leaned over and flicked the ash from the tip of the cigarette into the ashtray. "Christ, I just made three times that in five minutes."
After a moment, he put the smoke out and said her name," Chrissy." Followed by, "Come here."
Eyes burning, she hesitated. She'd fought tears all day, and now that she was at the only place she felt safe, she still fought them off. She refused to turn around, refused to let Eddie see the day written on her face. He'd see the disappointment in her eyes.
When he wrapped a hand around her elbow she snatched it away. Then immediately regretted it. She was projecting her anger at the situation on him and that wasn't fair.
An apology on her lips, she went to him and stood between his knees, resting her hands on his shoulders. In turn, he looked up at her, his fingers brushing a fallen strand of hair behind her ear. A thumb caressed her cheek.
"Come on, pretty mama let me take your troubles away," he whispered the song he'd written for her. "We will work through what went wrong."
She smiled weakly. The kind of smile you smiled to keep the tears at bay. But it was too difficult to keep the smile on her face. Just like it was too difficult to keep her worries inside.
Who was she to say he shouldn't sell? Who was she to say he should take that job? Who was she to be angry about it?
She smoked frequently. Though, smoking it and dealing it were two different things. He used to sell because it was easy money, now he said he was selling for them. To save money so maybe one day they could start their own life. Starting their own life would be much more difficult on salary pay. But, at least, he wouldn't be risking jail.
"What if something happens to you?"
"What do you mean?" he asked, pulling her closer still.
"I don't know. What if Dale," she motioned to the living room. "What if he pulled a gun out and shot you because he didn't want to pay?"
"Dale is a weird one but he probably couldn't even figure out how to load a gun." Eddie tried to ease the moment with a joke.
It didn't work. "You know what I mean," she said, exasperated. "What if someone hurts you? Or what if you get busted? What if you go to jail?" The questions came barreling out. "Everybody knows what you do."
Jason included.
"Don't worry. Nothing's going to happen to me." He soothed. "Promise."
"You can't promise me that. You can't," her voice a ragged whisper. He didn't understand she was trying to protect him.
He sighed, curling his fingers into her hips, leaning his forehead against her middle. "You want me to take the job."
"I can't answer that." She ran her fingers through his hair, took a deep breath. "Listen, I love you… so much. But I don't want to be the reason you change everything. I've already uprooted your life enough."
"That's not true," he tried to argue. But she held up a hand.
"You do what you want to do. Keep selling, or work at the plant. Whichever. But it's up to you."
Eddie and Chrissy were at a stalemate. Eddie needed to make up his mind soon because the Human Resources department needed to fill the position at the plant soon. Chrissy seemed to be spiraling and he wasn't sure taking the job at the plant would fix it.
Robin picked up on Chrissy's crashing and visited more than often. Usually, that meant Steve was there too. But tonight he must have had to work or had a date and Robin had come over by herself while Eddie was gone.
The trailer was quiet, just the lamp in the corner was on. The bedroom door shut and he heard the muffled voices of Robin and Chrissy through the door. Along with the skunky smell of his weed.
He retreated back to the kitchen to find something to eat and maybe watch some television. He didn't want to disturb them. He wasn't the type of boyfriend to demand all of his girls' time and attention. Chrissy needed Robin's friendship, now more than ever.
An hour later, Robin came out of the bedroom and stood in the middle of the living room, looking around like she was wondering how she got there. Her eyes shifted from the TV screen where the show Golden Girls played, to the door, to Eddie.
"What's up, Rob?" He asked, leaning forward and putting his cigarette out in the ashtray on the coffee table.
"Oh umm… nothin'. Chrissy's asleep." She said, making a shushing motion, a finger to her lips as though they were talking loud. Her eyelids were half-massed, her eyes were veined and bloodshot.
He chuckled. She was high as a kite. "Ya' need a ride home?"
"Uh, yeah. Yeah, that'd be great. Or I can call Steve. He'd come 'n get me when he gets off of work." She itched her neck, ran her hands through her hair. If it was possible, she was even more jittery than normal.
Once they were on the road he found himself asking, "How do you think Chrissy is? Any better?" They'd talked briefly about her - just that they were both worried. Not much else was said. He didn't want to talk behind her back. But maybe Robin could offer some insight into what Chrissy was thinking.
She didn't say anything at first, only became more fidgety. Asked for a cigarette and when he reminded her she doesn't smoke, she nodded. "Oh yeah. You're right." Then she zoned out peering out the window.
Eddie side-eyed her and chuckled. "You two need to stay out of my stash when I'm not around."
"Ohhh yeah," she said, drawing out the word. "Don't worry, I'm not smoking your weed ever again."
"Uh huh, until the next time," he teased. This wasn't the first time they got into the stronger stuff. It didn't seem to affect Chrissy like it did Robin. Chrissy got sleepy, Robin was especially entertaining when it happened.
"No, I mean it. This shit, it's, like, really blowing my mind right now. I swear I can see sounds."
He laughed, reached over and cuffed her on the shoulder. "You'll be okay. You'll come down in an hour or so."
"Great," she rolled her eyes. "Another hour of this."
He tried again. "So, has Chrissy said anything to you?" He felt a bit like a weasel pulling information out of extremely high Robin. But he was desperate. Desperate times call for desperate measures - or some dumb shit like that.
Unexpectedly, Robin reacted. "Okay okay! Torture me already. Fine! I'll tell you what I know." She motioned with her hands dramatically.
He laughed at her reaction and had to prompt her when the seconds ticked by and she didn't expand after her outburst. "So?"
"So what?" She questioned, a vacant look on her face. "Oh! Umm… yeah. So I guess Jason's been showing up at work. Threatening Chrissy. God, please don't tell her you heard it from me."
Eddie slammed on the brakes, forcing Robin to slide off the seat. Luckily they weren't going fast and it was late with little to no traffic, even on the main road through town. "Shit, I'm sorry Rob, are you okay?" He asked, sliding the van into park and reaching over to clumsily grab her upper arm and help her back onto the seat. It was like she was made of rubber and her legs didn't want to cooperate. It'd be hilarious if he wasn't so pissed.
Once she was seated again, he asked, "What do you mean Jason threatened her?"
"Uh, yeah." Robin pulled on the seatbelt, yanking it twice before she gave up. It was broken like everything else in the van. "Well, more like he was threatening you. He said he'd tell the sheriff that you," Robin looked around conspiratorily, then whispered, "that you sell."
Realization settled in. This explains Chrissy's line of questions. What if you get busted? What if you go to jail?
But why hadn't she told him?