Wisteria

by LChan3706

"Hey… You okay?" Chrissy can't remember the last time anyone asked that, let alone noticed something was off. She spent her life bending to the whims of others. Following the plan with a fake smile plastered on her face. Even when it spirals downward and strange things happen, the show must still go on. The town freak isn't a big fan of that idea and honestly, neither is she.

20. Deal

'I hope this isn't a huge mistake…'

Chrissy lets out a deep breath while looking at the enormous house ahead. Yep, this probably isn't a great idea. Another one of her brilliant plans. It feels necessary. They have some unfinished business that needs to be taken care of.

The Jeep's here, but the Lincoln's nowhere in sight. It's Sunday. Mr. and Mrs. Carver would be at the evening service or one of those little gatherings they have afterward. Her family used to go to them every week. At least, when her mother was still alive.

Stepping onto the porch, she nervously chews on the inside of her lip before ringing the doorbell. So many different scenarios of how this might play out keep swirling in her head. On the way over and while standing here. Also, what actually went down that night. The things they said to each other… His fight with Eddie… A cop showing up. How she humiliated herself. None of it should've ever happened.

'Maybe he went with them to church?'

She debates leaving and trying again later when noticing movement behind the decorative sidelight window. A moment passes then the front door cracks open. "What are you doing here?" The voice is low and gravelly like he just woke up from a nap. Only a sliver of his face is visible, so it's hard to get a good look at him.

"I, um… I wanted to see how you were doing. You didn't come to school Friday."

"I wonder why." He replies sarcastically, opening the door the rest of the way. It takes every bit of self-control to keep herself in check. No wonder Mr. and Mrs. Carver went to church without him. Everyone and their mother would chirp about this. "Go ahead. You don't have to hold it in. Laugh. Don't mind me."

"Why would I laugh about this?" She scrunches up her face at the remark. What makes him think this is something she'd find funny? His nose is still swollen and discolored. It's obvious even with a bandage across the bridge, covering most of it. The bruising spread out beneath his eyes. And the left side of his jaw wasn't spared either. "Was it broken?" Remembering the crunching sound from Eddie's headbutt is making her stomach twist.

Those will take weeks to completely heal. In all the years they have known each other, she's never seen him this bad off. Athletes deal with bruising, sore muscles, and even injuries here and there. That's nothing new. But this? Only in some rare or extremely unlucky circumstances.

"No. If that blockhead had any more room, it might've been a clean break." Jason grumbles and steps out onto the porch, closing the door behind him. How strange. It hasn't even been a week since they broke up. There's an enormous distance between them, figuratively. As if they haven't seen each other in years and are now different people. To an extent, that might be true. "He's lucky I was drunk. None of that would've happened."

'It must really be eating at him that Eddie wasn't easy pickings.'

"You're both lucky neither of you died or ended up in jail. A cop showed up at my house after you left. One of the neighbors called."

"Of course they did. It was probably that old bag across the street." He snorts, walking to the edge of the porch and sitting down. A hand reaches out to pat the spot next to him. She hesitates for a few seconds but does it anyway. The whole reason for coming over was to talk. It's just that she didn't want to fall into an obedient role again.

'This is uncomfortable.'

She stares down at her feet hanging off the porch, tapping them together to distract herself from the awkward silence. Now that they're together in person, all the lines she prepared went right out the window. A small part of her is still overly anxious. The meek part that always backed down and was worried about making him upset. Another is hurting from everything he's said and done until this point.

'Remember what you came for, dweeb… Take care of this.'

"So, how are you? I mean physically? Are you going to be out of the championships?"

"Nothing's broken. My parents have been on my case and making me stick to a strict schedule. It's all meds, hot baths, compresses, ice packs on top of some bland diet and too much sleep... They're relentless. Anything to get me back into the game as soon as possible." He tugs down the bottom of his shirt with a huff. "I'll have to miss this week, but depending on what the doctor says Friday, I might be back in. Good thing the next two are against pansies we always beat."

That's exactly what she figured Mr. and Mrs. Carver would do in a situation like this. They have two away games this week. One on Monday, the next on Friday. The Tigers haven't lost against either school in the last three years. Without a regular captain though, that might change. A substitute just isn't the same.

"That's good. Hopefully your appointment goes well." She fiddles with the zipper on her jacket, wondering if any of this will even help. All they're doing is having a faux polite conversation while holding back the things they really want to say.

"Is that your car?"

"Yeah. A birthday present from my dad." That's right. As far as Jason's concerned, she had no way of getting around without asking for help. He didn't even know about her taking the driving test when they were still together.

More silence. It's grating on the nerves. This was her idea, yet bringing up the topic is proving to be more challenging than she assumed. Stealing little glances at him doesn't help. He's lost in thought, staring out across the front property.

"We need to talk. With the championsh—"

"Figured. I knew there was another reason besides—"

"Do not cut me off. You always do that and I don't like it." Chrissy says firmly, forcing herself to look him right in the face. Good. Be shocked. She's tired of getting walked all over. "As I was saying… The championship game is coming up soon. I want to finish out the season without a bunch of drama. This is our last year. Can we just try to make it work?"

Both teams having drama with each other isn't the only issue. The cheer squad is a confused, hurt mess right now. Last night they talked as a group and laid out their feelings about the Amber situation. It isn't so cut and dry. Most of the team, especially the other juniors, have been close to her since she moved to Hawkins.

From the other teammates' perspectives, one good friend backstabbed another, who also happens to be their captain. For a boy, at that. A huge violation of the girl code. Naturally, everyone was upset. It put them in a weird position where they felt like they had to choose a side. That's when Chrissy put her foot down. It's a bad idea, especially for the underclassmen who will have Amber as their new squad leader soon.

'I still don't get what's going on with them. Maybe it's none of my business. I'm the one who dumped Jason, but I can't have this interfering with cheerleading. We're going to have problems if she skips again.'

"What do you want from me, Chris? To pretend none of this happened? I'm angry. You screwed me over to shack up with the freak."

"Who told you that?! You know what? Nevermind. It doesn't matter. What I'm saying is that I want us to play nice and get this over with. No more fighting. No spreading weird rumors about the other… If you want to hate me for breaking things off, then fine. Just don't involve my teammates or other people in it." That nightmare from last night has been weighing heavily on her mind. Those two can't fight again. She might be powerless in the dream world, but it's a different story here.

Jason regards her for a long moment. Lines form along his brow as he furrows and relaxes it, taking a bit to think things through. "I don't hate you. It's him I can't stand. He just couldn't resist hopping right between us back there. You don't see him the way I do… The way I have from the start. He was looking for his big chance and you gave it to him."

'Big chance for what? It's not like Eddie pressured me to hang out with him or break up with you.'

"Okay. Well, I'm here now and he isn't. Let's talk this out. Not argue. Talk. But I don't want to listen to you bashing him, even if you're angry. That'll only get me to leave faster.

They just have to finish out the season. At most, there are two and a half weeks left. It's impossible to completely avoid him the entire time. She can't have Amber not showing up to practice or games, either. If they can come to some agreement to at least be civil for now, that would be best for all of them.

---

"Chrissy!"

That must be a record. Barely fifteen seconds after walking through the door and it's already starting. She didn't even get a chance to kick off her shoes yet. This was bound to happen. The extra ten minutes spent in the Corvette to prepare herself weren't for nothing.

The familiar tapping of his dress shoes on the hardwood floor tells Chrissy that he's coming down the hall from the study. And that tone makes it apparent this won't be a casual conversation. It's why she was reluctant to come home in the first place.

'This is going to suck.'

Stepping out into the foyer, he stops and lets out a big puff of air. His face is already a bit red. He runs a hand over it and into his neatly combed hair. "I don't know where to even begin…"

'Uh-oh.'

Chrissy isn't sure exactly just how much trouble she's in right now. Is he so angry that he's beyond the yelling stage? Maybe that would've been better. She grips the strap hanging from her shoulder and repeats the pep talk from earlier. Don't be afraid. There are real things to fear and this isn't one of them. If this goes south, it's not the end of the world.

"I thought I explicitly told you not to bring anyone over while I was gone, did I not?" His eyes narrow sharply while waiting for a response. All he gets is a hesitant nod. "Alright, so tell me why Nora saw someone coming in and out of here? It was some—some hoodlum with long hair. She said he had chains hanging off of him. Chains. And… And tattoos! Do you have any idea how humiliating it was to have our neighbors see something so unsightly—"

That's it, huh? The older woman across the street tattled on her. Does he know any more than that? Maybe not. What happened with Jason would've been brought up immediately if he already heard. The ranting keeps going as she starts zoning out. Someone coming over isn't the biggest issue here. It's who came here and what people might say. The way he's talking about Eddie is getting under her skin.

'I don't care what the neighbors think. They should mind their own business for once.'

"Oh, no. Not the chains." She snickers and tries to cover her mouth to hold it in before bursting out with laughter. This is all just so ridiculous. Eddie the hoodlum. He might get a kick out of that one.

The noise quickly dies down from seeing her dad's expression. Shock, confusion, disbelief. Like he's watching someone completely lose it and has no idea what to do. That switches to irritation as a deep frown takes over. "This isn't funny! Who is this person? What's his name? Who are his parents?"

This isn't good. Getting in trouble is one thing, but what will happen if he finds out who Eddie is? She can already imagine him driving to Forest Hills to give Mr. Munson an earful, saying he better keep his nephew far away from her. And that's the best-case scenario.

"What's wrong with you? Say something! Why did you bring a stranger in here? Do you realize what could've happened? Is anything missing? I can't believe this."

'I'm getting a headache.'

"I had a reason. Maybe not a good one, but… Okay. The thing is, something happened while you were gone. Jason… He dumped me for another girl." She quickly covers her face, trying to work herself up to make this more believable. To play the part of the devastated girl left behind by the love of her life. Or whatever. "A junior! It was so embarrassing. Everyone at school's talking about it. I invited over some guy he doesn't like to make him jealous, but it didn't work—"

"Wait, wait, wait, just wait a minute! What are you talking about?" Peeking through the space between her fingers, her dad is holding onto the banister as the blood drains from his face. "No… That's not right. Jason wouldn't do that…" He whispers to himself, shaking his head in denial.

'Jeez. Dad's acting like he got dumped instead. This is making me feel bad, but he was going to find out either way.'

"You should be grateful to me. I'm doing us a favor while you go through this little rebellious phase. We both know how this is going to end. Don't destroy your reputation in the meantime."

"It's true! He broke up with me and has a new girlfriend. Ask anyone. The whole school knows about it."

"Go to your room. Now."

Not needing to be told twice, Chrissy scurries up the stairs and stops at the top, listening to him trudge down the hall back to his office. What's going to happen? She sets the bag down next to her on the step, waiting for the bomb to go off. Hopefully he's too distracted to think about the 'hoodlum' that came into the house multiple times. At least for a bit.

"Carver! You better take a seat because I have a bone to pick with you and your son." There he goes… As expected. Calling Jason's dad to have a hissy fit and figure out what's going on. "Don't you 'what' me! I come back from a business trip just to find a mess at my feet… Wait. Hold on… Chrissy! Stop being a nosybody and get to your room!"

'Stupid creaky boards.'

"...Yes, sir."

Following orders, she slams the bedroom door harder than intended behind herself. How frustrating. The relationship was between her and Jason, yet their dads are the ones arguing about it. She's even being excluded from the conversation altogether. As if it has nothing to do with her…

'No matter what they say, I'm not getting back with him. Uhn-uh. Over my dead body. Not after that earlier. He doesn't respect my choices. If that jerk wants to take the blame, then so be it.'

The captain tosses her bag on the floor before flopping on the bed. Staring up at the ceiling, she exhales deeply to relax. That was actually easier than expected. None of it feels good. It's just what needs to be done right now until she figures something out.

Jason and his little stories… Even he's embarrassed by them. Those two are real dumdums for making that up. He's always been a terrible liar. Adding alcohol and stress only made that worse. Not everyone is buying it. Plenty of jocks were there when she and Eddie left practice and can put two and two together.

'His parents are probably so furious. I'm grateful he didn't tell on Eddie, even if it was to save face. They would've pressed charges and tried to get him locked up…'

"So I got a lot to live up to. Don't wanna ruin the great Munson name."

Grabbing a pillow, Chrissy hugs it tightly while thinking about what he said at Lover's Lake. That guy is always messing around. Still, he has goals to accomplish and is afraid of ending up like his father. One bad move could've made that a reality, at least on paper. He'd also lose the chance to get a high school diploma.

'I wouldn't let that happen.'

---

"That'll be mad cute in orange. Go with that one."

"Really? I don't want to look like a pumpkin." Trish groans, staring down at the page skeptically. The cheerleaders huddled together do the same as they glance between her and a picture of the outfit in question. "Chris, what do you think?"

Now that it's March, clothing stores and boutiques are pushing their spring lines. It's everywhere. Sale ads, catalogs, commercials, magazines… All are full of colorful, stylish outfits to match the season. Springtime is her favorite. When it's not too cold or hot, and the trendiest clothes hit the shops. The winter months in Indiana are harsh, so she welcomes the warmth and everything slowly coming back to life.

"Green will make your eyes pop more," she answers honestly, watching some of the friends around her quickly nod and agree.

"Ooh! Yeah, you're right." Happy with the response, Trish marks up the catalog with a pen to remember which items she wants to order later.

'In a way, it almost feels like some things are going back to normal.'

"You can always try—" She jolts when a large hand drops on her head, ruffling the cheerleader's carefully styled hair. The girls in the group look stunned and a few gasp as she spins to face the culprit.

Chrissy's face lights up seeing Eddie looking back at her with that shit-eating grin. He winks and a wave of heat crashes down mercilessly, turning her into a flushed mess. It makes that already smug attitude soar even higher and he continues down the hall with a little pep in his step, strutting around like he owns the place.

'That goof's acting so cocky... It's hot.'

She stares at the large Dio patch on his back warmly while fixing the mess he made, not paying any mind to the many pairs of eyes on her. It's okay. Their connection isn't a secret anymore. They can be open with each other.

Val jerks her head back and forth, glancing between the two before raising a brow. "You guys really aren't going out?"

"Nope!" The other cheerleaders seem puzzled by the upbeat response. It's not a big deal. After having a few days to mull things over, Chrissy decided she just doesn't care at the moment. Not everything needs to have a label slapped on it, right? Stuff changes all the time, so who knows what'll happen later on. For now, she just wants to have fun with him and see where this goes.

'I'm happy as long as we get to spend time together.'

"Move! This is an emergency!" Hearing a familiar voice shouting, they turn to see Charlotte barreling down the hallway, weaving between the students getting in her way. Running right towards them.

"Hey, what's going on—"

"Bathroom." The brunette grabs her by the wrist and yanks the captain away from the others, leading her back through the hall. Completely ignoring the looks from everyone around them.

As soon as they head inside the girl's bathroom, she impatiently clears her throat at the two freshmen doing their makeup in the mirror. The startled girls quickly gather their things and leave.

"I think you scared them." Chrissy sighs, leaning up against the wall. "Anyway, how did it go with John? Did that work?" That's what she figures this is about. They spent a good hour on the phone last night hashing out the details for the much-needed apology.

"Huh? Oh, yeah... Of course it did! I had him eating out of my palm before ten. Thanks for that, by the way. Our little practice run really helped." Sitting on the edge of the sink, Charlotte stares at her for a moment before looking down at her nails. "You know that traffic light thing you mentioned the other day? So, I might've gone to that adult store on Prospect to possibly buy some stuff to soften John up a bit, right? Just in case saying sorry didn't work. I also might've been curious and asked the store owner if he knew anything about it."

"Okay?" Why is she saying it like that?

"Well, let's just say I have some interesting things to tell you. I thought I knew it all, Chris. I've been humbled. My life will never be the same and it's all your boy toy's fault!"

---

"Mmghh…" Dark eyes narrow on the cheerleader as the annoyance he's feeling gradually rises. The disgruntled noises to get the point across are going nowhere. Same with him tapping his shoes against the steps impatiently. Christ! What's a guy gotta do to get some attention around here? Put on a performance? Start a fight?

Eddie's brow furrows while she mindlessly digs into the bag of pretzels, waiting for the next one. Yeah, this is lame as hell. He's acting like a moody cat being pissy that his owner isn't petting him enough after finally coming home. In his defense, she hasn't called him in a few days and they haven't hung out since Saturday.

'I didn't call either.'

Nope. That shit gets shut down real quick. They're here now, so that's what matters. Except one is lost in friggin' la-la-land and the other's trying to not-so-subtly pull them out of it. Another pretzel comes soaring through the air and he slides across the step to catch it, but the trajectory is way off. It hits the railing and ricochets down the rest of the stairwell.

"What the hell was that?! Are you aiming for me or is there some guy down there you're sneakin' food to?" When he handed over his snack bag, the point was to feed him. Not the stairs. Well, actually the point was to stop her mind from wandering off again. And he failed. Again.

'Pay attention to me , dammit!'

"Oh, sorry." She gives a half-hearted shrug before 'tossing' the next one. This time there's a little more force behind it and the damn thing zips right past his head.

"Chrissy, I swear to God! You keep wasting my snacks and you're gonna get it." He throws her a pointed look, trying to stop his lips from twisting into a grin. That's the ticket. Those big blue eyes land on him and he perks up at the small success.

"Yeah?" Chrissy holds his gaze and slowly slips her hand into the bag. With a straight face, she pulls a few out and just tosses them down the stairs. His brows shoot up in surprise. The balls on this chick... And that teasing glint in her eyes is daring him to do something about it.

"That's it." Before he can hop to his feet, she's already flying down the steps. Taking his bag of pretzels with her. So that's how it is, huh? The freaky little cheerleader likes to be chased. Funny, 'cause he gets a thrill from pursuing her.

She already reached the bottom when he grabs onto the railing to launch himself forward, using his long legs to leap over half the set in one go. This girl is fast. He'll use any advantage at his disposal to catch up.

'Where is she running to?'

Instead of stopping at the first-floor exit, she keeps going straight to the basement. Where hardly anyone ventures, except for janitors and students looking to do some shady crap. His chain rattles against the railing with the final jump and he stumbles with the landing as the stairwell door closes.

"Jesus Christ." Eddie breathes out, scrambling to get into the hallway before losing her trail. He glances around to find any signs of where she ran. The hall is dim and narrow with a handful of rooms down the row. This part of the building is even more decrepit than his normal hideout. "Gotcha." His face lights up catching one of the doors shutting at the last second.

The boiler room.

'Oh? Is that your plan, princess?'

It's one of the few—and less frequently used—places in school where people go to hook–up. No one really likes coming down here because it's a grubby shithole that could double as part of a horror movie set. Honestly, he's surprised a scaredy–cat like Chrissy would run to this spot. Maybe knowing she's not alone is giving her a little more courage.

Slipping into the room, his eyes dart back and forth as they adjust to the darker surroundings. A single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling is the only source of light, making it easier for someone to hide in the shadows and machinery. He steps further in, now questioning whether the idea to lure him down here was actually for a hot make-out session or not.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are." He listens carefully for a response or some kind of noise from her moving around. There's nothing. The hissing and humming sounds coming from the pipes drown out any pitter-patter he might've been able to pick up. Guess they're playing hide-and-seek…

"Rah!" Eddie jumps behind the old furnace in the corner and frowns when no one's there. Just a shovel leaning up against the wall next to a pile of lumpy coal bags. Stupid ass old school. He tsks, then starts searching high and low for his target.

Nothing under the utility table. No one around the water heater. Zilch near the large tank across the room. And no white sneakers when he bends down to the floor to get a look over the area. Chrissy is small, nimble, and quick. For all he knows, she could be curled up on one of the large pipes along the ceiling.

'I'm gonna look like a real dumbass if she didn't come in here… Was I wrong? No, I definitely saw the door close. Gotta keep looking.'

"You can run around and hide, but I will find you. Eventually. There's no getting away from me." Something lands in his hair and he jumps, batting at it frantically. "Shit!" Whatever it is drops to the floor next to his shoe. It's not a spider or cockroach like he imagined. Just a pretzel. Another one of his poor little soldiers being used as cannon fodder in their battle.

"Promise?" The Hellfire leader freezes, barely hearing the voice over the aggravating noises coming from the machinery. She only uttered a single word but something about it keeps him rooted to the spot.

"Yeah… Hell yeah. I promise."

Out of the corner of his eye, a short figure creeps out from behind the water heater and makes a run for it. Heading straight for the exit. Not this time.

"Where do you think you're goin'?" His hand slams the door shut as soon as she tries ripping it open, hoping to take off again. Spinning around, Chrissy presses herself up against it and peers up at him with that damn look. The one where her eyes go all wide and she plays totally innocent to get her way. And it friggin' works nine times out of ten, even if he knows what's going on.

"I—" A moment drags by and he cocks a brow, waiting for her to whip up some bullshit excuse. Instead, she chuckles sheepishly and hangs her head. "I guess it doesn't matter now. You got me."

"That's right. I caught you. Fair and square." Eddie grins, pressing his arm up against the door and closing the space between them. She stares up at him curiously, her cheeks darkening from the warmth flooding them. Shitty lighting be damned. They're a pretty shade of pink. He's sure of it from seeing it so many times. "You know what that means, right?"

"Nope. Do tell."

The poor little bastards in his sockets decide now is a good time to peruse. Trailing over Chrissy's face and neck, down to her uniform. Maybe it's from enjoying a good chase, but he's having a harder time than usual reeling in his thoughts. Having a wild imagination has always been useful. Now, it's just causing him pain. For real. And try as he might, there's no stopping the scenarios that keep popping up.

He cranes his head down while keeping an eye on her expression, half-expecting to be pushed back. That doesn't happen. No, she tries to stay still as he leans in close, brushing his nose along the hollow of her throat. Breathing her in. That sweet scent he can't get enough of. It's only been a few days, but that feels like an eternity ago.

'...Dammit.'

"It means—" Reluctantly breaking away, his hands find their way to the cheerleader's hips to hoist her over his shoulder. "Finders, keepers." She squeals in surprise, grabbing onto the back of his vest and kicking her legs. "So you're mine now." He smirks and swings the door open, strolling out into the hall with his catch.

"Eddie!" Chrissy's flailing around like they just fell into the deep end of a pool. "You're such a punk! Not fair." Oh? Is that a hint of disappointment in her voice? Was she expecting a little more? Well, it's better to do it in a place where he can at least see. The damn janitor still hasn't changed the bulb in the boiler room.

She starts pulling herself down his back when they head up the first flight and he has to grip her legs tightly to make sure she doesn't fall. "Woah! What are you doin'? You wanna smack your head on concrete?" A little mischievous giggle comes from behind that's troubling and when he climbs the next step, a hand comes swinging down.

Right on his ass.

Hard.

"C–Crap!" Eddie shouts, wobbling from his legs turning into noodles. He quickly latches onto the railing to steady himself. What the hell was that? Retribution for Saturday? This chick might have dainty-looking hands, but they have one hell of a sting. They would've both been in trouble if there wasn't a layer of denim in the way.

"Oh, no… Did that hurt?" The destructive weapon that caused the pain tries soothing it by stroking his ass cheek. That might help if it wasn't giving him an aneurysm. Does this make them even for that initial shot when they were wrestling over the magazine? It's cool. Whatever. He bounces her back into place on his shoulder. "I didn't mean to—"

"You're gonna make us fall down the stairs." He smacks Chrissy's ass in return and smiles devilishly when she gasps loudly. "Bad girl." Giving her another whack for good measure, he pauses mid-step when a peculiar sound fills the narrow stairwell. A mix between a moan and a cry. And they're both fully aware of the noise she just made. It's why she's so tense and from the elbows digging into his back, is probably covering her face.

'Holy fuck. I was just screwing around, but I sure as hell felt that.'

"Hey, uh… You alright back there?"

"Yep." she squeaks out cutely and buries her face into his vest. Trying to hide from who knows what. It's not like anyone's watching.

Is that what gets her engine going? There was no missing it… The way she shivered and reacted to being called a 'bad girl'. That's one more thing to add to the list.

Eddie carefully sets her down when they get to the second-floor landing. Plopping his ass on the steps, he leans back on his elbows and gazes at the captain. As expected, she's still slightly flushed from that. The real problem is that instead of looking at him, her eyes are glued to the railing. Same as earlier.

"Can I ask you a question?" Chrissy says quietly, twisting a strawberry blonde tendril around her finger.

"Sure, shoot." If only he could switch places with that lock of hair. Maybe he'd finally get a satisfying amount of attention. They have something in common, though. She has both of them wrapped around her fingers, just below those perfectly manicured nails.

'I wanna get scratched up by 'em. Bet it'd feel good.'

"What's ADSM?"

"Huh?" His face scrunches up in confusion. The hell is that? Must be some funny business. "Is that like a radio station or something?"

"No, remember you mentioned a traffic light system the other day? When we were in your room?" When she glances at him for a response, he gives her a wolfish grin. Who'd forget that? The cheerleader blushes and tries to cover up her own smile. "Well, I was talking to Charlotte about… things. Nothing too detailed! But she said that's part of something called ADSM."

Oh, this is gonna be fucking rich.

"And what did she tell you about this 'ADSM', exactly?" It's hard holding back the snicker working its way up his throat, but he's gotta hear this shit. Is that what the preps call BDSM? They can't even get the acronym right.

"That it's…" The blush from a moment ago was nothing. Now her face is burning bright red. She spins on her heel in a different direction before continuing. "It's part of a 'sex thing' where people wear leather and put clothespins on their, um, chest… and they hang their partners from the ceiling then… then beat them with stuff."

"Pfft!" Eddie's eyes bug out from trying to keep himself under control, but it's useless. He bursts out laughing, falling back against the steps and stamping his feet on the floor. It was better than rich. This was pure gold delivered right to him by an angel.

Turns out said angel doesn't find it nearly as funny. "Don't laugh at me!" Gliding over, she yanks the sleeve of her jacket down and begins swatting him with it. That only makes him howl louder, almost slipping right off the edge. "I shouldn't have even brought it up."

Wiping the tears from his eyes, he makes a real attempt to simmer down. "I wasn't laughing at you. Your friends are the ones I'm getting a kick out of." Not good. After all these weeks, it would suck major ass if Chrissy felt like she couldn't talk to him over something goofy. "So sorry, milady." His hands reach out to grasp one of hers, pulling it forward so he can lay a few light pecks on the back of it. "It's the leather-clad people with clothespins on their nipples. They got me good."

"That does sound kind of weird." She chuckles and quickly warms up from the small amount of affection. "Is it true, though? I mean, the whole traffic light thing and what Charlotte said? Do people really do that?"

What a friggin' world. Where does he even start? Better yet, how? Without collapsing in on himself? Pinching the bridge of his nose, Eddie stares at the floor while thinking of an answer. A real one. Sure, her buddy's explanation was funny as hell, but he doesn't wanna bullshit Chrissy or completely freak her out.

"Okay. I'll level with you. She's not entirely wrong but isn't exactly right either. For starters, it's called BDSM. Not ADSM. It's like…" Glancing over at the cheerleader now leaning up against the wall, there's a little hesitation to continue. What if she finds this all creepy and puts some distance between them? Or gets the wrong idea about him? He'd usually eat it all up, even exaggerating the details for added dramatic flair, but that's not how he wants this to go with her.

'Stop screwing around. Chrissy's chill. This isn't gonna ruin it. She's been pretty open to everything so far.'

"You can say it's a 'sex thing'. Not always. Depends on who you ask… There's a lot to it. Way more than I even get. Right. So, uh… There's usually like, two roles. Dominant and submissive. A dom wants control and the sub enjoys being controlled. But the important part is that everyone's on the same page. They gotta trust each other. Follow?" She eagerly nods, listening with rapt attention.

"Great. Cool. Alright, that's where the traffic light system comes in. When people are gettin' down, they might use a safe word to tell their partner what's up. Like when I spanked you. You said 'red' and I stopped because that was the deal. And this covers a whole range of shit. It can just be some light spanking, using cuffs, roleplay… Maybe a little hot candle wax. Then there's the heavier side, where people wear leather, use toys and clamps, or whip someone."

'This is gonna end me.'

Seeing the horrified look on her face, he quickly jumps on that before it settles. "Hang on! Just hear me out. Anyone who gets into that wants to. For all kinds of reasons. You know, different strokes for different folks. So, yeah, what your friend was talking about is the wilder end of it."

Chrissy wraps an arm around her midsection, making a weird expression that's a pain in the ass to decipher. "Is that what you're into? Do you want to do that to me? I can't help thinking about it after what Charlotte said."

Her questions send him spiraling into a separate plane of existence. The second one… It keeps echoing through his head, turning his insides into molten lava. He's frazzled. Barely able to do much more than gape at her while she patiently waits for an answer.

'Hold up. She asked if I wanted to do that to her. Not with her. What's that supposed to mean? And the way she was acting earlier… Man, what the hell.'

"Certain parts I'm interested in, yeah. You saw my magazines. I mean, look at me. Leather, chains, and handcuffs? C'mon! That's metal as fuck. But it doesn't… I'm not—" Goddammit. Why is this suddenly getting him so upset?

Everyone always assumes the worst when it comes to him anyway. Should this be any different?

Now it makes sense why Chrissy seemed so distracted after coming here to meet him. Was she wondering if he planned to do all that wild shit to her? What, like the spanking and traffic light system were just preparations before moving on to the real deal? And he's the jerkoff trying to lead someone who knows diddly–squat about this stuff right into it for his own gratification.

The implications hit a nerve. A big one. Eddie's convinced that is what's going on and the more he thinks about it, the more frustrated he's getting. There's no winning. Even when trying to do what's right—or at least seems to be the right thing—it always ends up with him being labeled a scumbag for some reason, regardless if it's deserved.

"You're not what?" She says softly, playing with the '86 charm on her necklace.

'I'm not like that asshole Carver who's just out for himself.'

"Forget it. You might think this is all friggin' weird or scary, but I'm not planning on pushing crap on you. We don't have to do anything you're not down for, 'kay? Even smooching or touching or whatever else. Just say the word and that's that. No questions asked." This is overly defensive. Maybe he's acting like a stupid dog with its hackles raised over nothing.

"That is not what I think." Kicking off the wall, she steps closer and to his surprise, takes a seat right on his lap. Just sits down on his thigh and throws her legs over the other one, getting nice and cozy. "It's not a big secret you're a strange nerd that's into some freaky stuff. I like that about you. Sometimes it's a little surprising at first, but that's all."

'She likes that about me…'

"Strange nerd, huh?" He snorts, rolling his eyes at the description. She's too nice to straight-up call him what he really is. A freak. Big ol' one at that.

"Yeah, so stop saying silly things." Chrissy gently takes his face in her hands and guides him to meet her gaze. "I'm doing what I want, okay? And part of what I want is the smooching and touching and whatever else. Unless you're secretly hoping I say the word?"

"Now look who's saying silly things."

Unbelievable. Ridiculous. Horseshit. That's the last thing he wants. It sucks, but she still doesn't get it. There's only one person to blame for that. Maybe he didn't really change as much as he hoped since middle school.

"Then we're on the same page, right? Isn't that what the system's for?" Those big, stormy blue eyes focusing solely on him makes it hard to respond with anything more than a slight nod. He's entranced. Getting too caught up in them to react when she leans in close and brushes her lips against the side of his face. "Jeez. Like I'd believe the guy who won't even kiss me without asking first is 'pushing crap'. No way."

A flame ignites under Eddie's skin as she plants small kisses on his cheek and chin, slowly working her way along his jaw. Leaving a hot trail that lingers even after she's moved on. "Well, I… I, uh… figured you wouldn't want me just coming up and layin' one on you." His nostrils flare with each deep breath and all he can smell is her. She's everywhere, invading each one of his senses.

"What if I do? You don't have to ask." The cheer captain pulls back to shrug off her jacket, tossing it onto the stairwell railing. "We already crossed that line, so… I mean, I'm okay with you doing that." She adds quietly, reaching out to caress his bruised cheek. Her fingers ghost over the blemished skin before working their way into his hair, weaving themselves through the messy dark locks.

'Guess I'm just a dumb, cynical bastard after all.'

Chrissy's eyes flutter shut when she moves in for a kiss. So slow, careful, feather-light. He returns it with the same energy, taking the time to relish each movement of her lips against his. Drinking in everything she's willing to give him. Being a greedy son of a bitch, his lids stay partway open, not wanting to miss a damn thing like the first time they did this. One of a handful of regretful choices made that day.

"Mmm…" The soft little moan against his mouth causes Eddie's world to shift, throwing everything off balance. Can she hear it? How the heart in his chest is hammering away? That's all her doing. "You're so warm. It feels good."

'You feel good, princess.'

Screw it. They could do this for hours—even the rest of the night—and he'd be totally cool with that. More than cool. Thrilled. But he doesn't have that luxury. Once the bell rings, she's going to happily skip to the bus waiting out front of the school for their away game. The squad has to fulfill their duty of cheering on shitty jocks dribbling balls and entertaining a crowd of people who don't appreciate all the hard work they put into their routines.

Point is, they're short on time and every minute counts. There's no telling when they'll meet up again next. Could be days and it seems like he's the only one suffering from this ordeal.

"C'mere." His arms circle around Chrissy, drawing her in even closer. It just isn't enough. Not until her chest is firmly pressed up against his and she's wrapped around him like ivy. He still can't get over this. All of it. Someone sure got a little friskier since they last hung out… But as she deepens the kiss, he's having a difficult time thinking too much about it right now.

All that's on Eddie's mind is that he likes the way it feels when she's clinging to him. Those slender, bare legs folded over his thighs. The hands grabbing at his vest and band shirt, balling the fabric up in her small fists, making sure he doesn't stray too far. Even a few inches. And when the tip of her tongue slides across his lips, there's no hesitation to let her in. Chrissy can have whatever she wants. If he has it to give, then it's hers to take.

'I want her. I want her. I want her. Fuck, she's making me so hard.'

"Oh!" Pushing back against his chest, the captain glances down at the white watch on her wrist and gasps. "Crap. I really have to go. My bookbag's still in study hall."

Fucking basketball.

He tries to catch his breath as she awkwardly detaches herself from him to get up. Shit… Time's up. It went by too quickly. "Dammit." Does it have to be over already? Stupid sports. Dumb tournament. Lame schools. Just a bunch of bullshit getting in the way. The only good thing to come from all that garbage is the cute uniform she's wearing.

"I'm sorry," Chrissy's a flustered mess. Cheeks red hot, totally out of breath, and working herself into a tizzy over her appearance. She quickly gathers up all the loose strands that fell to fix the ponytail he jacked up and smooths out her pleated skirt. An attempt to look 'presentable' after what they just did. "I lost track of time. It just… Wasn't thinking… I'll, um, make it up to you."

'Make it up to me? What the hell is she talking about?'

Eddie's face drops at that. Watching her getting ready was at least a welcome distraction from his own painful situation, but that really threw him off. While adjusting her top and yanking the jacket from the railing, he notices her hands are shaking. "What do you mean? There's nothing to make up. We both knew you had shit to do. It's not a big deal."

Jesus Christ, that made it sound like she 'owes' him something. The guilty expression on her face isn't sitting well with him, either. Not cool. Where did that come from? He glances from her to one of the rings on his fingers and twists it around, silently picking apart the weird reaction. Is she used to saying that to Douchebag? That leaves a heavy, sour feeling swirling in his gut.

'I don't like that.'

Slapping his hands down onto his knees, Eddie pushes up off the step and slinks in front of the chick messing with her jacket. His eyes narrow on the trembling fingers fussing with the zipper. This is making him feel like shit.

"Here. Let me help." He reaches down between her hands to take care of it. Freeing the zipper that was stuck and tugging it up. She peers up at him and sucks in her bottom lip before patting that hairdo once again. "It's good. Relax. You look beautiful, 'kay? Stop fretting so much. No one's gonna be able to tell that you were sucking face with me in here."

Chrissy stares at him blankly as a pink dusting spreads across her cheeks. Then she puffs up when the last part sinks in. "I don't care if anyone knows! Let them find out. That has nothing to do with this." Glancing at the watch again, the cheerleader sighs and moves closer, grabbing the front of his shirt. "I really have to get going, so are you going to kiss me goodbye?"

'Atta girl. Don't take no shit, even from me.'

"Heh. Sure, but not 'goodbye'. More like, 'until later' or whenever you decide to bless me with your presence again." To be honest, Eddie isn't a fan of saying that word. Goodbye. There's a finality about it he just doesn't vibe with. Dipping his head down to give her another kiss, he wants that dreadful combination of letters to stay far away from the both of them.

The cheerleader gives him an extra peck before spinning on her heel and heading for the stairwell door. Part of him is itching to grab onto that jacket to drag her ass back over. He doesn't want Chrissy to leave right now. It can't be helped. Even if the squad wasn't going to another school for a game, they'd still have to separate to go to their seventh-period classes.

"Hey, uh… Chrissy?" Pausing in the doorway, the strawberry blonde turns around and arches a brow. Yeah, they both know she's short on time, but he can't help himself. "Can you not tell the other preps what's up with the whole BDSM thing? It's a hell of a lot funnier if they think I'm running around with clothespins on my nipples and stringing folks up just to smack 'em around. You know, when sacrificing virgins isn't cuttin' it."

A beat passes before her face lights up with a ridiculously huge smile. That's the ticket. He grins triumphantly that he was able to get one more out of her. "Don't worry, Mr. Dom. You're secret's safe with me." She giggles as his mouth falls open stupidly and disappears behind the door.

'Shit… Fuck me.'

---

"Don't even get me started on that. Every single time I try talking to Linda, all she wants to do is make out. Seriously! It's like she's shushing me with her lips. This girl's hot and all, but what if I want to talk once in a while?" Steve tuts and crosses his arms over his chest. "The sex is good, so that's a plus. It's just, I don't know…"

The 'Great Drought of '85' is little more than a distant memory at this point. A crappy year better left in the dust. He got his mojo back and everything is on the up and up. At least, that's how it seemed. After a long string of failures, now women are throwing themselves at him left, right, and center. Isn't that what he wanted?

"Robin? Hey, Robin?" Leaning up against the counter, he stares at his friend's back as she grabs more tapes from the cart to stack the shelves. "Are you even listening to me?"

"I can do my job and listen to your dating woes at the same time." She excitedly holds up an old-looking movie, tapping her fingers against the cover. "How about 'Brief Encounter' this time?"

"Oh, yeah? Then what did I say?" That's a load of crap. Also, another black and white film? That's two days in a row they watched a flick that was older than both of them combined. At least he usually ends up liking her picks. "Sure, whatever. I don't think I've seen that one."

"You were complaining about how terrible your life is because another hot babe wants to constantly have sex with you, right? My heart really goes out to you in these troubling times."

"Come on. You don't have to say it like that. It sounds like I'm being a whiny—"

The bell jingles when the front door swings open, drawing both of their attention away from the conversation. Monday's are always slow as it is and they've barely had any customers stop by. Making sure his hair is still on point, Steve looks over at the entrance with a glimmer of hope that it's a hottie since he lost rock, paper, scissors and it's his turn to take the next customer.

'What luck. It's him again...'

There's no foxy mama walking into the store. Only Eddie 'the freak'. Dustin's new best buddy. The little twerp always has to mention how cool this weirdo is, like anyone would buy that. They went to the same high school together and he knows what Munson's about. Not impressed.

"Hey, what's up?" This isn't the first time this guy's come into Family Video, but something's different. While keeping his eyes directly on Steve, the metalhead strides right up with a bunch of VHSs tucked under his arm and drops them on the counter. Not handing them over nicely or making a small stack the way most people do. The movies are dumped into a heap next to the cash register.

"Just bringin' back the goods." Eddie tilts his head and motions towards the pile of tapes across the surface, pulling his lips back into an unsettling half-smirk. It almost seems sarcastic from that tone and expression. A big attitude change from the last few trips he made to the store.

"...Right." He slowly nods before glancing over at Robin on the off chance that she's willing to take one for the team. As soon as their eyes meet, her head whips in the other direction, pretending not to see the plea in his gaze. She goes back to stacking tapes and holds up a fist. A reminder that her rock beat his scissors.

'I'll remember that next time.'

"Alright, let's see what we got here." Trying to ignore the look he's getting, Steve sifts through the movies to put them together in something a little more organized. Nightmare on Elm Street, Return of the Living Dead, Friday the 13th Part II, This is Spinal Tap, Creature, Halloween, National Lampoon's Vacation. Figures this guy would mostly pick slasher films. Sounds about right. And Dustin worships this guy? So does Mike. Of course it just has to be someone who's a bad influence.

He goes over to the computer to look up the account. Every couple of seconds, his eyes shift over to the man standing on the other side of the counter. Munson's just staring at him. Practically glaring. What the hell's his issue? Even when his back is turned, he can feel those daggers digging into him. It's getting on his nerves.

"Is there a problem?"

"Nah, man. Does it look like I have a problem?" Eddie rolls his shoulders back, standing tall with that bitchy look still directed at him. Should he really answer that? Anyone could see he has major beef. Clearly this isn't an isolated thing, either. That bruise on his cheek means someone got mad enough to deck him. "Is there a reason I should, pretty boy?"

"No? That's why I asked." For real? Is Munson really trying to get big with him? It'll take way more than that for Steve to be intimidated. Not after all the crap he's seen and done. Wrong person.

"Then why would I have a problem?"

"Nevermind. Forget it." Mondays might be slow and boring, but getting into it with some headbanging freakazoid isn't his idea of how to liven it up. He puts the returns into the system and pays no mind to the dude tearing open a box of Mike and Ike's with his teeth like some kind of animal. "That'll be five bucks."

"Five bucks?!" The piece of candy he threw in the air falls to the floor as he whirls back with an outraged expression. "What the hell for?"

"Six of the movies are four days late. Looks like they were due on the fifth. Then there's the box you're chowing down on. That's another fifty cents." Hopefully this doesn't turn into a temper tantrum. One chick racked up a forty-dollar bill the other day and instead of talking it out, she swiped everything off the counter and wrecked a display piece. Keith had to threaten to call the cops just to get her to leave the store.

"Christ… Greedy son of a bitches…" Munson grumbles while checking the pockets of his leather jacket before pulling out a wallet from the back of his jeans. A wad of ones are slapped down and he grabs two more boxes of candy from the side. "There. Six bucks. We square?"

"Yep. You're good to go." He quickly counts the money and nods. Thank God this can finally be over. This guy's a real piece of work. It's a wonder why the kids like him so much.

Without another word, the freak heads out with his candy. Only stopping at the door for a second to throw him one last dirty look. Leaving a bewildered Steve trying to make heads or tails of the odd interaction.

"Did you see that? Tell me you saw that, right?" Now that they're alone, he quickly turns to Robin and throws his hands up in confusion. "Didn't it seem like he had a problem with me?"

"Oh, yeah. I saw all of it." She laughs and leans up against one of the shelves. "Eddie totally hates you now. What happened, pretty boy? Did you steal his girl? Wait. He's with Chrissy. You didn't…?"

"No way. First off, none of the babes I talk to would ever mess around with a guy like that. Second, me and Chrissy Cunningham? Not a thing. Our parents were friends and we've hung out, but that's it. Thirdly—or Third?—Munson has no reason to hate me. I haven't done anything!" That's right. How the hell did that happen? The town freak is trying to adopt the kids and gets a cute girl? Nothing makes sense anymore.

"I don't know. It might be an off day. That's kind of weird he's suddenly acting like that towards you." Robin shrugs, wheeling the empty cart into the back.

Sitting down on the chair in front of the computer, he sighs while watching her move around the store. Everything and everyone is really changing. Dustin's too busy with his new group to hang out. On top of his own work schedule and dating, it's a pain trying to find extra time when they both have their own things going on.

Also, he ran into Mike the other day. The kid had a growth spurt and seems to be taking styling tips from Munson. Growing his hair out and those clothes? So obvious. And he's trying to learn guitar because of his new 'role model'. Nancy probably isn't thrilled about that. Not that he would know since they rarely ever see each other anymore… Max and Lucas are even harder to catch up with than the rest, but he heard the latter joined the basketball team.

'And here I am… Still working a crappy job with no idea of what I want to do. At least it's not alone, I guess.'

"Hey! Where did my Swedish Fish go? I still had half a bag left!" Robin pushes some tapes out of the way, searching around the little candy display near the register. "They were right… here." The two look from the counter to each other, then at the door.

---

'This sounds exciting.'

Chrissy's eyes light up as she finishes the synopsis on the back and adds the book to the pile in her handbasket. It's getting heavy now. There's no way these will all fit into her bookbag. Well, she can figure out how to sneak them upstairs later on.

Going down the row of books, she glosses over the covers to see if there's anything else that piques her interest. The anthology from Charlotte didn't take long to read through. She ate it up, getting lost in the short stories and imagining herself in place of the main character. They were over far too fast. It was a nice appetizer, yet not nearly enough to satisfy her growing hunger and curiosity.

That's what led her to stop at Clemen's. After doing some running around in the area anyway, it seemed like a good idea. A little treat to herself.

'Okay, don't go overboard. I'm going to end up becoming a hoarder like that pervert at this rate.'

Glancing at the old metal basket, she sighs and shakes her head. No. There's a long way to go before that happens. Who knows how long he's been collecting those dirty magazines? And only a small portion of them was visible under the bed. He could have them stuffed in all kinds of places throughout his bedroom.

"Darn it." Now for the next hurdle. Peeking around the corner from the 'adult section' in the back, Chrissy silently thanks God that the store is mostly empty at the moment. The only other people in here are the owner behind the counter and his granddaughter stocking shelves.

'There's nothing to be embarrassed about. Adult books are for adults… and I'm an adult, right?'

She tries to push forward, but her feet are cemented to the floor. The fingers wrapped around the handle tighten into a death grip while her other hand clings to a shelf for stability. Despite repeating the same lines to calm down, it's not changing the reality of the situation. That nice old man who's helped her find books many times as an innocent teenager is going to see the depraved woman she's turning into.

If only his granddaughter was doing the cashier job instead… It wouldn't be nearly as bad. Is there a way to not make this awkward? How does Eddie do it? Or does his 'erotica' come in the mail? He'd probably stroll up to the counter with a cocky smirk, then look the cashier right in the eye and tell them they need a wider selection. Just brimming with confidence while joking around.

Confidence.

That's the key.

"Did you find everything okay?" Mr. Clemen says when she sets the basket down on the counter. He pulls out a thick pair of glasses from the breast pocket of his plaid shirt before ringing up the items.

"You bet!" Chrissy laughs nervously and inwardly smacks herself for already making this weird. She shifts from one foot to the other when the older man raises a brow. Shaking it off, he goes back to the job at hand.

The cheerleader keeps her gaze trained on the mountain of books piling up on the surface. When 'The Silmarillion' is moved aside to reveal the next one, a breath catches in her throat. On the cover is a shirtless hunk of a man with long dark hair holding a pretty blonde in an off–the–shoulder dress. He's hanging from a rope as they swing back to his ship. A pirate and the beauty he captured during an adventure.

The store is somehow quieter than it already was a moment ago. And beneath that book is half a dozen other filthy stories from the small section in the very back of the store, away from anything wholesome or family-friendly. Their spines alone give away what they are without needing to glance at the front. Heat stings her face and she looks away, unable to look Mr. Clemen in the eye.

"...Please don't judge me."

"I didn't say anything."

It's not until Chrissy's hurrying out the front door with the bags and receipt in hand that she finally relaxes. So much for being a confident woman… How unsexy. Just buying a few adult books almost sent her hurtling right into an anxiety attack. But she did it. This is the first time she's gotten anything like this and everything worked out just fine.

"Yes!" A big smile spreads across her face as she swings the bags back and forth, feeling overly giddy about this. After taking a nice hot bubble bath, she's going to curl up in bed with one of these and see what kind of naughty escapades will play out.

'I can't wait. My muscles are sore, too. That will really hit the spot. If these are really good, maybe I can recommend them to Charlotte. She'll be so surprised.'

"Look who it is. Long time no see." Hearing a familiar voice, she hesitantly turns around. There's a man sitting cross-legged on the ground with a cardboard sign and a small plastic bucket beside him. He smirks and hops to his feet, casually strolling over. "Figures you'd be a cheerleader. Unless this is some costume thing you're doin'?"

Forgetting someone like that isn't easy. She remembers those features, his long light brown hair, and even the stench emanating from him that night a few weeks ago. When this man was drunk and bothered her in the parking lot outside of The Hideout. A hand slowly inches toward her purse, trying to be discrete as she gets ready to whip out the pepper spray if he tries anything.

"Hey, now. Ya don't gotta be scared. I'm just talkin'. That's all." He stops a couple of feet away and eyes her warily, raising a brow. "We got off on the wrong foot before. I didn't know you were Munson's girl."

"That shouldn't matter." If this is him trying to make it better, he's not doing a good job. So if she wasn't connected to Eddie or someone else at the bar, then it would be okay to harass her? The audacity of some people… They don't think there's anything wrong with going up to strangers and acting that way.

"You're right, you're right. Not cool. I get a little uppity after drinking. My fault, okay?" The man leans up against the front of the store and crosses his arms, sighing. This time, he actually has a shirt on beneath that leather jacket. "You can chill, demon girl. I ain't gonna do anything. Don't need your boyfriend trying to beat me up again."

'Again? This guy must've really pushed his buttons for that to happen.'

"Why do you call me that?" They don't even know each other like that. What's his name again? Jay? John? Jack? She's pretty sure that's the one. Jack.

"Ehh? Good question." Jack grazes his fingers along the stubble on his chin, regarding her carefully. There's something off about it. Enough to make her want to squirm right where she stands. It's not lecherous… That look is easy to figure out. Whatever it is, she's having a difficult time putting her finger on it. "Nothin' serious. Just a little thing my brain cooked up that stuck."

'It doesn't even make sense. Unless that's the point.'

"Ya don't like that? I think it's hella bitchin'. Then what's your name? Whatcha go by?"

"Chrissy."

The smart thing probably would've been to ignore this person right off the bat and just head to the car with her bags. Not stand here while he makes small talk. Why is he doing that? To smooth stuff over with Eddie? And she's playing along… Another habit that's still hard to break—forcing herself to stay in uncomfortable situations to avoid seeming rude.

"What are you doing?" Tilting her head to the side, she peers past him towards the sign and bucket. None of that was out there when going into the store earlier. Is he collecting money?

"Exactly what it looks like. Panhandlin'. Gotta make extra smackers somehow." It's rare to see that in town. Not because there isn't anyone in need, but plenty of people don't react kindly to it. They'll reprimand the person asking for help, telling them to get a job and stop being a bum. Her dad absolutely despises those who do it. He thinks they're looking for free handouts or drinking money.

"It might be a good idea to leave out the Vietnam vet part. You're way too young for anyone to believe that."

Jack's jaw goes slack before spinning around to snatch up the cardboard off the ground. He reads it quickly, letting out a frustrated groan. "Shit! I grabbed the wrong sign… No wonder I haven't made crap today."

The bags in her hands feel heavier now. Staring at this guy, she can't help noticing how worn his shoes and clothes are. Those dark shadows beneath his eyes must be from a lack of sleep. That pulls at her heartstrings.

'Maybe I am a huge softie like he said…'

"Well, I need to get going." Chrissy chuckles to ease her own discomfort then walks past him. Stopping in front of the bucket, she slips a hand into her purse and with some awkward maneuvering, manages to pull out two crinkled-up twenties to toss into the empty plastic container. The change from buying books and other things while running around. "Take care of yourself."

No one at home will miss it. Hell, she could've dropped that on the way to the car and it wouldn't matter. This can make someone's day a little better on top of being a small jab at her dad. A win-win situation. That's less than pocket change to him, anyway.

Unlocking the Corvette, she sets the bags down on the floor and goes to hop in when Jack calls out. "Ey, demon girl!" Her expression twists with displeasure at the name. "Uh, er… Chrissy…"

"Yeah?"

The man stands near the curb, staring at her for a long moment before scratching his head irritably. "No one listens to shit I say anyway but lemme give ya some advice. That baggage you're carrying? Throw it away. Fast."

"What are you talking about?" Arching a brow, she glances at the haul on the passenger side. "My books?"

"No, not that!" He takes long strides toward the car and Chrissy backs up, startled. "The real baggage. Whatever that is. Either get rid of it now or start gettin' real friendly with downers. Ice and dust work, too. Makes it harder for 'em to mess with your head." His voice is low and hurried as he taps a finger against his temple. "You seem like a nice girl, so that's the only reason I'm warning you. Last thing I need is more junk weighin' on my noggin. Got it?"

"I—I don't know what you're saying." She sucks in a sharp breath, trying to calm herself down. His demeanor changed so quickly. Going from laid back to dead serious in just a few seconds.

'I'm getting freaked out.'

"Jax! What've I told you a million times?! Stay away from customers and don't sit outside of my store!" Mr. Clemen stands in the doorway with both hands on his hip. "Get going before I call the cops."

"Keh! Stingy old man."

"Lazy young brat! Fine, what'll it be? You want to deal with Powell or Donna? Your choice." The elderly man turns to mutter something to his granddaughter lurking behind him and she runs off.

"...I'd rather you call the cops," Jax says under his breath so the store owner doesn't hear. He sighs and throws his hands in the air. "Damn! Cool your jets, Clemen. I'm leavin'. These people, I fucking swear…" Before fully turning away, he throws her a side glance. "I know you know what I'm talkin' about. Make peace with whatever bullshit you're dealing with and use anything that 'feels good', ya hear?"

Realizing that this guy is waiting for some kind of a response, she slowly nods and watches him stomp off to grab his belongings. All while glaring at the store owner who's still shouting at him, but she's too stunned to listen.

Chrissy quickly jumps into the driver's seat and slams the door, hitting the lock button over and over again. Wanting to keep anything outside from coming in. It's too late. His words already penetrated her mind. They shook the cheerleader up, getting under her skin. Shifting the euphoric mood from earlier into something more foreboding.

'What the hell was he going on about?'

A shaky hand puts the keys into the ignition to start the car. Purposefully avoiding looking at the two men arguing in front of the building, she hurriedly pulls out of the lot and onto Prospect. The evening traffic is already in full swing and a window is rolled down to let in some fresh air. Anything that can help clear her mind to focus on the cars flying down the street.

---

"You're beautiful, darling."

Chrissy says in a Mid-Atlantic accent as she twirls in front of the vanity mirror, watching the silky robe flutter around her. That causes another round of giggling and she covers her reddening face in embarrassment. So silly. These clothes are really cute, though. They make her feel fancier than she actually is. A great find while out shopping with the girlies the other day.

Staring at the reflection, it's almost like a different person is looking back. The sad, scrawny little girl she's scowled at for years is taking on the appearance of a woman. A lady. Maybe not the kind her parents wanted, but that's okay. The world doesn't revolve around them.

'I just need to be someone I'm happy with.'

"Oh!" Seeing the paper bag sticking up from the duvet draws her attention. She almost forgot to put those away. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, the cheer captain sighs and dumps the prescription bottles out onto the covers. There's quite a few of them now. More than she'd like.

Once the away game finished, Chrissy had an appointment with their family doctor and it was… interesting. Trying to explain what was going on without saying anything that could get her committed wasn't a fun experience. Neither was him mentioning how she gained a few pounds since the fall or bringing up her mom, who always did all the talking during these situations.

Dr. Howard thinks the nosebleeds are from dry nasal passages. After a long examination, that's his best guess. They went down a list of symptoms she was having, and he wrote out some prescriptions and suggested over-the-counter sprays.

'Jeez. What a mess. Hopefully the prazosin helps with my nightmares. I don't know if I want to take the other stuff. Seems like a bit much between those, my birth control, and vitamins. I'm like an old lady now with a hundred pills.'

She sighs and shakes her head, shoving all of them into the nightstand drawer. Out of sight, out of mind. There's no telling what her dad might say if he saw them. He's been extra prickly since learning of the breakup. The story of Jason dumping her for another girl is more about the Carvers slighting him. And doing it while he's gone without his input? That means war. As far as he's concerned, Mr. Carver might as well have welcomed him back by spitting in his face.

"Ugh…" She crawls across the bed and pushes those thoughts aside for something more important. Finding out what happens between Anne and Stede 'Silver–Tongue' Vane in the new book she started reading earlier. Snatching up the novel sitting on the nightstand, she gets cozy under the duvet and flips it open to the bookmarked section.

Anne is the daughter of a royal governor who lives a boring life of socializing with the rigid upper–class and waiting around to be married to a suitor of her father's choosing. That is, until one day she's taken hostage at an event by the infamous Silver-Tongue Stede, who's trying to get away from the guards. He uses Anne to escape, assuming the men won't shoot and gets away on his ship with her in tow. Little does she know it was all part of the pirate captain's plan.

'Oh my God! We're only halfway through the third chapter, Stede… This guy. I bet Eddie would be into something like that, too… All these bad boys are trouble.'

Biting the corner of her lip, Chrissy can already feel warmth spreading everywhere. Choosing this book wasn't a coincidence. The summary on the back hit a little close to home and the main character seemed relatable. Oh, the fantasy of having some beautiful scoundrel with an exciting life falling head over heels from afar, then setting up an elaborate plan to whisk her away… One could dream. Or just read dirty stories about it.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.

"Come on…" Letting out a little huff, the bookmark is shoved between the pages, and it's dropped onto the duvet. Of course someone has to call right now. Once she finally started relaxing after an annoyingly long day.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Chrissy? Great! You're still up… Look, I need a huge—"

"Speak of the devil." She smiles, sitting up on the edge of the bed and twirling the phone cord around her finger. Only Eddie or Charlotte would call this late. Figures it'd be him.

"Oh, were you talkin' about me? Hmm?"

"More like thinking about you."

"Really? What about me? Crap! Hold that thought for now. We got bigger fish to fry. I need a huge favor. Like, a big ass one. You know that packet in O's class that's due tomorrow?"

"Mhm." The smile fades from already knowing where this is going.

"Yeah, well… I, uh, just found it and there's no way I'll get that beast finished before class. No friggin' way. Could you do me a solid and help me out with some of the answers?"

Pulling the phone back, Chrissy stares at it in disbelief. Ms. O'Donnell gave them that packet after winter break and was very clear it would count toward the final. The darn thing is sixteen pages. No wonder Eddie looked like he'd seen a ghost in class this morning after the teacher reminded everyone about it.

"What do I get in return?" The captain cradles the phone with her shoulder and heads over to where she tossed her bookbag on the carpet earlier. This is probably going to be a long one.

"In return?!" He sounds so shocked. This is going to be fun. "So that's how it is… I come to you in dire need and you're puttin' the squeeze on me, huh? Fine. Name your price. I'll do anything. Free grass, massages, being your servant for a month. I don't care. Just tell me."

Chrissy arches a brow while getting out the packet and a textbook. It was just a joke, yet he sounds serious about doing whatever she asks. Maybe this will be more fun than expected. What should the price be? Different ideas pop up as she pulls the robe tightly against herself, getting warm all over again. A full-body massage? That would be nice after practice. Or maybe… "How about—"

"Deal."

"Let me finish first!" No, it feels bad to take advantage of his desperation with something like that in mind. "How about you take me to see a movie Saturday night? I mean, if you're not doing anything? There's one I wanted to check out. It's a rom-com, though."

"That's it? I offer to be yours for an entire month and you pick the movies instead?!"

Why is this guy acting so offended now? Does he want to be a servant for a month? So much for not caring about the price. "Alright, alright. I guess we're doing that instead, but I still want to go to the movies on Saturday. Is that okay?" It's not a date. Definitely not. Just two people hanging out who like kissing each other. That might possibly have a makeout session afterward. In his van. All by themselves. With no one else around.

"For sure. Your wish is my command, princess. Saturday night it is, then. Figure out what time you wanna go and I'll ride up on my stallion to scoop you up."

She leans away to snort, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. What a goofball. Still, the whole 'servant' thing is kind of iffy. That kind of muddies the waters. "Mmm... I'm not so sure about this. I'd rather you do stuff with me because you want to and not as part of some deal."

"Oh, man. You're killing me. For real. Killing me dead. I don't think you really get it—ktchhhhh!"

"Eddie?... Eddie?" Loud static comes through the receiver. "What the heck's wrong with this thing?" She frowns, shaking the phone in frustration before hanging it up to try again. More static. "Come on!" The cheerleader drags herself across the floor to check the jack, making sure the cords are plugged in all the way.

'I'm so mad! Why does it have to act up now?! I really wanted to hear the rest of that and we didn't even get to his packet.'

The only other one in the house that currently works is in her dad's office and that's a separate line no one else is allowed to use. No way. He'd catch her in a heartbeat. Also, she'd rather him not listen in on her conversation with Eddie. That'll just make everything worse.

Picking it up again, she groans from hearing the same thing. Just more static. It might be better to just drive over to his place... What if he has the same idea, though?

"Ow… Ow." The phone falls to the carpet. Her temples. They ache. Chrissy grabs the sides of her head, trying to massage them using the heel of her palms. The static keeps getting louder and louder. "A-Ah…" It hurts. Like someone's driving their bony knuckles deep into the soft juncture beside her eyes. A sharp pain that's building on itself, getting worse with each passing second until she's doubling over.

"Jesus!" Her hand frantically pats the floor, feeling around for the receiver. Stop. It has to stop. The noise is scrambling everything upstairs, making it hard to see or think straight. Smooth plastic touches the tips of her fingers and she quickly smashes it down on the base.

Silence.

"Thank God." Just like that, the pain faded away once the phone was put back on the hook. She slowly sits up and tries to catch her breath, totally puzzled over what happened.

'I feel… nauseous.'

The lamp sitting on the nightstand suddenly turns off and on. Wide, frightened eyes dart from that to the vanity, bathroom, and even the light beneath the door that's coming in from the hall. Every bulb in the vicinity begins flickering.

"No, no, no, no!" Not again. Please. Chrissy tries to get up off the carpet, but her legs are already violently shaking. The lights going crazy means something horrifying is coming. Every. Single. Time. "D-Dad! Dad!" Can he hear her? Is it loud enough? "Dad!"

Reaching out hesitantly, she shakily takes a hold of the edge of the duvet and tears it off of the mattress. Sending the book on it flying and trying her damnedest not to glance under the bed. Just in case there's something looking back.

Tears prick her eyes as she hides under the large blanket, pushing herself up against the nearest wall. That's one side that's protected. This isn't the first time. Might not even be the last. If nothing's going to work, she can at least try to block it all out until this is over.

'Ears… Eyes aren't enough.'

The bookbag gets pulled over too and Chrissy hastily tears through it, all while humming loudly in hopes of drowning out any voices. Yes! Yanking out the walkman, she puts on the headphones and fumbles with the buttons.

"All the leaves are brown and the sky is gray… I've been for a walk on a Winter's day…"

Drawing her knees up, she holds onto them for dear life, trying to make herself as small as humanly possible. Curled up into a tiny ball against the wall. Eyes squeezed shut as The Mamas and The Papas take her somewhere far away from this place.

"Well, I got down on my knees… And I pretend to pray…"

A nice place to go. The beach. The drive will take a while but is totally worth it. Definitely. It's sunny out and the sand would be so warm between her toes. Where's the nearest one? Maybe it can be a little road trip? She's never done that before. That would be a lot of fun.

"Chrissy?"

'Block it out. Block it out. How loud can this thing go?'

"Chrissy?!"

The duvet is ripped away and a scream that barely sounds human leaves her mouth. Someone's yelling. A man's voice. Cautiously cracking a lid open, another shout comes from seeing her father's pallid face and alarmed expression.

The lights aren't flickering anymore.

"Dad!" Pulling off the headset, Chrissy lets out a heavy breath and glances around the room before landing back on him. Thank goodness. She's never been so happy to have someone barge in here.

"Are you okay?" He says quietly before letting go of the blanket. It sounds strange coming from him. But the thing that's most worrying is that he looks… scared? Then the phone starts ringing. That changes his mood real fast. "Who's calling you this late on a school night?!"

"C–Charlotte. We were—I was helping her with a packet. It's due tomorrow." She points to the textbook and worksheets on the floor, hoping that'll do it for him. Charlotte would understand. They've both covered for each other plenty of times before.

"I told them they're far too lenient with her. This is what happens when people don't listen to me. Everyone thinks they know everything." Turning away, he mumbles complaints to himself while heading for the door. "Tell her it's rude to keep calling like that. If no one answers the first time, it's for a reason. Don't stay up too late, either. You have to get up early."

"...I know." The phone rings for the hundredth time. She snatches it up, pressing it tightly against her chest as he glowers from the doorway. "Sorry. It'll get done."

Slam.

A squeaking noise keeps coming from the receiver that's ignored. Chrissy just stares at the spot where her dad was standing only seconds ago. Becoming lost from trying to grasp any of this. It doesn't make sense. Nothing does. The harder she thinks, the more detached from reality she feels.

"Heeelllloooo?!"

Glancing down at the phone, her lip quivers as she slowly brings it up to finally answer. "Sorry."

"There you are! Christ, I thought you forgot about me… Anyway, my bad. This piece of crap started acting up and uh, yeah. I think some drunk must've hit a pole out here. Everyone's stuff started going wild."

"Their stuff went wild?"

"Yeah. Remember when you first came over? Like that, but with the other trailers too. I was sitting in front of the window and saw it. Doesn't surprise me. Everything's always been a friggin' mess."

The same thing happened in Forest Hills… It wasn't just this house. That should be a relief. Was she overreacting? Maybe being a little dramatic? The trailer park is a fifteen-minute drive from here. Perhaps there was a problem at the plant and it messed with everyone's electricity. That's plausible. A story she can accept to put her mind at ease.

"Chrissy?"

"I'm here. I just…" Just, what? Her mind's still reeling from all of that. This situation is different from the others. It didn't involve hallucinations or hearing disembodied threats, but her reaction to it was very real. "We also had an issue. Well, I don't know about the neighbors, but our place did."

"Really?! Huh. So even the ritzy section got it. Someone's definitely gonna get fired then."

All she wants to do is keep listening to his voice. It's so soothing. The one thing that can genuinely calm her down. He's been there for most of the incidents without realizing it. The forest, his trailer, at school… Even the occasional late-night chats after a terrible dream. They never seem to annoy him.

"I was so pissed off. Like, I thought about chucking this thing right through the window." He chuckles and a small smile passes over her lips. "Then I imagined the ass-kicking I'd get when my uncle got back from work."

Dragging the duvet closer from where it was thrown, she wraps it around herself tightly, wishing it was a person instead. Eddie… All it took was a few minutes to brighten up the mood. To draw out a grin so easily and a little laugh. That's all it ever takes with him. He's the sun shining through the dark clouds hanging over her head. The breath of fresh air she desperately needed.

Chrissy looks up at the ceiling, trying to blink away the tears rimming her eyes. What the heck. Nope. Not doing it. There's been more tears shed in the last month than all four years of high school put together.

"Hey? Are you good?"

"No." She winces at how high-pitched her voice sounds. Like she just sucked the helium out of a balloon. "I mean, now I am." Because of him. And even when she was sure that was about to happen again, a gift of his was there to help her escape for a bit. "Thanks for getting me that walkman. It's the best present anyone's ever given me!"

"Oh, uh… Y–Yeah. No problem. It's nothing to get upset about, though." Eddie clears his throat, going quiet for a moment as she scoots over to the nightstand to grab some tissues. Just in case her attempts to hold it back end up failing. "Did something happen?"

"Not—Not really. I think I scared myself stupid when the lights started acting up." That's easier to digest than anything else. Besides, it'll be fine. As long as someone else is there. "After we're done with the packet, would you mind staying on here for a bit longer? If you're not too tired by then?"

"Do you really gotta ask? You know I will. I'm up half the night anyway and you're the one always falling asleep on me."

"...That's true."

---

A/N: Sorry I've been MIA recently! I was in a real writing slump this last month, but I think I might've gotten out of it. Thanks to everyone for the wonderful reviews! I really appreciate them.

Stans of stans: This is one of the reasons I love reviews. I really enjoy getting to see readers' different takes on the same character. Like, I've had a few tell me before that I'm too hard on Eddie and him looking down on himself/not feeling good enough for Chrissy. I get what you mean, though. If it makes you feel any better, the next big plot point in the story revolves around Eddie himself. Some of his past, his insecurities, his jealousy, and how that affects his relationship with Chrissy.

Wicked8Witch: Thank you so much! I'm so happy you're able to connect and relate to Chrissy. It's what drew me to her character in the show. I felt like I could relate to a lot of her issues. She's pretty mature in certain ways because she's always had to be overly mindful of what she says/does to avoid making her mom angry. That's also caused her to miss out on a lot of fun as a teenager, but that's starting to change.