"I can't believe I'm doing this…" Chrissy says under her breath as she steps onto the empty football field. The sun's setting, casting shadows across the large building and school grounds. She can see it peeking out between the tall trees. Almost beckoning her to keep going.
The day went by so fast. There wasn't enough time to mentally prepare for this. But backing out isn't an option at this point. It wouldn't be right. After all, she sought him out. Not the other way around.
Stopping at the edge of the field, she eyes the forest warily. What a spot to pick… The creepiest place to meet someone all alone. It doesn't matter. This is what he chose, and she agreed without a second thought at the time.
No one's around. Whoever didn't head straight home is hanging out by the parking lot or in the school, preparing for the upcoming game. That leaves this side of the building empty. And hopefully, no prying eyes witness where she's going.
The cheer captain hesitantly walks past the first row of trees. It's been so long since the last time. Maybe eighth grade? When a group of them came out here after one girl stole a cigarette from her parents. They all thought it was so cool and snuck out to try smoking it. Be a little rebellious for once. That didn't go well… It only took a few strange noises to scare them off, swearing the place was haunted.
It was probably just a critter moving around. But that was enough to make them promise never to return. Yet here she is, heading deeper into the place that terrified her as a middle schooler.
'I hoped we would've run into each other by now.'
Blue eyes dart back and forth, almost desperate to see that denim vest and leather jacket combo. He is coming, right? Regardless of how she normally feels about Eddie, the growing anxiety from walking alone out here supersedes any of that. Some company would be more than welcome right now.
A sigh of relief slips out finally seeing the clearing up ahead. She steps over a root sticking up from the ground, continuing across the endless amounts of dead leaves and twigs. There's no clear path so treading through this is unavoidable. Hopefully her white sneakers won't be too messed up, since there's a game right after this.
Chrissy grabs one of her bookbag straps and grips it as she walks toward the lone picnic table. It sits right in the center of the open area, littered with some old beer cans and bottles. No one's probably come here in a while. At least from the looks of it.
"... Hello?" Her ears perk up hearing something in the distance. A strange sound. Different from the kind birds and insects make. She squeezes the strap tighter and looks around, trying to figure out what it is and where it's coming from. "Hello?!"
Nothing. No small animals nearby or people. Everything is still, even the leaves hanging off branches. This is creepy. Bouncing on the back of her heels, she silently prays that no one is playing a prank. Eddie wouldn't do something like that, right?
"Chrissy."
The blood drains from her face hearing that voice. It sounds distant, coming from multiple directions. Like a whisper from afar. Impossible… There's no way. She must be so tired that things aren't making sense anymore.
"Chrissy? "
"M–Mom?..." It's closer this time. Taking a step back, Chrissy's body trembles as a lump forms in her throat. This isn't real. It's not. Just weird noises she's imagining from lack of sleep. That's all. But it doesn't stop the familiar panic gripping her chest, making it hard to breathe.
'It's not real. It's not real. It's not real
"Chrissy, what did I tell you?!" Too close. She's frozen to the spot, unable to move. That voice… It's now coming from a nearby tree. Yelling at her. "Stop eating so much or you're going to get fat! Don't you care how that will make us look?! After everything your father and I have done for you… What did I do to deserve such an ungrateful child!"
A small patch of bark falls off the trunk and something dark pokes out. Thin, black legs sprout from the hole, quickly followed by a little hairy body. Spider. A nasty-looking one. Another piece of bark drops and suddenly, more and more legs start coming out. The arachnids pour out of the tree and run down the side, heading straight for the ground.
Eyes wide and mouth gaping, Chrissy tries to scream but nothing comes out. If the voice is still going, she can't hear it. Not over the pounding in her ears. Those things are coming. Hundreds of them. If she doesn't do something…
Tears prick her eyes as she takes a step back. Running is the only option but the fear taking over is making it hard to move. With the horde only a couple of feet away now, it's do or die from a heart attack. Time to go. Nothing else matters except getting away from the spiders before they start crawling up her legs.
She whips around to flee, only to smack into something hard. Face-first. The collision stuns her enough to shout and accidentally stumble backward. Right in the direction she doesn't want to go.
"Whoa! Hey, hey, hey!" Two hands grab onto Chrissy's shoulders to help as her wobbly knees almost give out. Through the tears, she can make out that crazy hair and devilish club shirt. It's Eddie. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you." He smirks, chuckling lightly.
The cheerleader stares at him wide-eyed, hoping this isn't another trick. She reaches up to check. Slim fingers tap on the back of his hand and wrist to confirm someone is actually there. Warmth, skin, metal rings, and the bottom of a leather sleeve… It must be real. Hallucinations can't take physical form, right?
The grin on his face fades seeing the fear etched in her's. "You okay?" He asks softly, leaning back with a concerned expression. She's not. There's no way she could be. Not after that.
'Eddie… He can't see it. No one would be so calm if they did.'
That's a terrifying thought. To see things that other people can't… Letting out a shaky breath, she hesitantly looks back at the tree. There's nothing out of the ordinary. No swarm of spiders. No disembodied voice. What was that? Was it all in her head? Is this some kind of mental breakdown?
"Y–Yeah." She bites down on her bottom lip, fighting the urge to cry. This is so frustrating. At least it seems to be over for now.
Eddie shifts to the side and glances in the same direction, trying to see what might've caused her to react like this. "You sure?" He doesn't seem convinced but she nods anyway, hoping to move on. "Oh, sorry." The hands on her shoulders quickly pull back. Almost like they suddenly burned him after lingering for too long.
"So… Okay." He turns around and heads straight for the picnic table. With a grand sweep of his arm, the old cans and bottles are knocked onto the ground. The old lunch pail he usually carries around is already sitting on the edge.
Chrissy takes the hint and makes her way over to the other side. This is where they're doing it. The moment she takes a seat on the bench, her knees start bouncing.
'Calm down…'
It's useless. Shaking off the feeling of what just happened is too difficult. Even with company. She stares at the table, barely noticing him taking off his jacket and laying it across the surface. Is there any way this actually goes well now?
"There's, uh… There's nothing to worry about. Okay? No one ever comes out here." Eddie sits down and looks her right in the eyes. "We're safe… I promise." He means it. The rapid beating in her chest slowly calms down. It's strange, but there's something reassuring in hearing that. Almost comforting.
The old pail creaks loudly when the lid swings open. Her eyes widen a fraction seeing the contents as he moves it over. There are a few clear plastic snack bags filled with large buds. So this is what it looks like… On the side is a box that reads 'Camel filters' and a little orange pack of rolling papers. It dawns on her that he carries this thing with him all around school.
"So, how does this work exactly?" She says quietly, staring at the pail. It might sound lame but she has no experience with this kind of stuff. Asking is better than assuming.
"Mmm… Just like any old sale. Except cash-only and for obvious reasons, no receipts." When he finishes the explanation, she looks away and shifts uncomfortably on the bench. "I'll do a half ounce for, uh… 20. What do you say?" He pulls out one of the bags and holds it up for her to see. "Plenty of bang for your buck. Should last you a while."
'I've already come this far…'
A scratchy noise from behind causes Chrissy to shout and jump in her seat. Turning around, she sees it's just a squirrel climbing a tree. It probably would seem so silly from another person's point of view.
The pail slams shut. "Hey, we don't need to do this." Eddie looks away, leaning on his elbow. That soft, comforting tone from earlier disappears. Replaced with one that sounds annoyed and detached. "Just give me the word and I'll walk away. Okay?" He lifts the pail up and sits it on the bench next to him, out of view.
'Oh, no… He's going to leave. I think he got the wrong idea.'
"No, it's not that..." It just tumbles right out. The desperation in the cheer captain's voice is apparent yet she doesn't have it in her to care right now. "I don't want you to go." He pauses and sits back down, settling his gaze back on her curiously.
'Please don't leave me out here by myself.'
Chrissy wants to say that so badly. Just thinking about going through something like that again makes her legs quiver beneath the table. Being alone right now is a bad idea. The fact that he's still here must be a good sign, right? That he might be willing to hear her out?
"It's just…" The sentence falters before it gets anywhere. Finding the right words is a challenge. "Do you ever feel like… you're losing your mind?" It's the closest to the truth she can get without potentially creeping him out. And probably the most honest she's been with anyone about what's going on recently.
Silence.
Not hearing anything aside from the sounds of nature worries her. What if that was too much? Maybe some things do need to be kept private. Her mother always said to never bother people with personal issues. And they barely know each other… Eddie has no reason to care about any of this. Still, the small ray of hope that someone might understand compels her to look up at him.
"Umm… You know, just on a daily basis." A smile spreads across his face, widening until it's ear-to-ear. "I mean, I feel like I'm losing my mind right now doing a drug deal with Chrissy Cunningham, the Queen of Hawkins High."
'Queen?'
It's infectious. Chrissy can feel her lips curl upward into a grin. The heavy weight on her chest wanes, making it a little easier to breathe. She didn't know what to expect. It sure wasn't such a big smile. Not from him. Even if it lasts only a second, it'll undoubtedly leave an imprint on her mind.
"You know, this isn't the first time that we've, um… hung out." He says, knocking one of the heavy rings on his finger against the table. Those dark eyes search her face for something specific. Maybe that 'aha' moment of realization. But they're only met with doubt and confusion. "You don't remember?"
"No." The disappointment in his voice makes her feel guilty but lying wouldn't be right. She genuinely doesn't remember hanging out with him before. And the stairwell doesn't count. "I'm sorry."
"That's okay…" Eddie looks off to the side, away from her. He's deflated. Like that answer took the wind right out of his sails. She tries to jog her memory to find the place where he fits in. Wouldn't someone remember that? It should stick out easily, but it doesn't.
'Maybe a party? Pep rally? Was he there, and I just didn't notice? No way. We don't run in the same circles. Why can't I remember?'
Both hands smack against his chest, clutching at his heart. Like her words pierced right through it. She shouts, startled, when he falls backward off the bench, tumbling into the dirt. "I wouldn't remember me either, Chrissy!" The Hellfire leader jumps to his feet, covered in dead leaves and small twigs. "You really don't remember me?" He says in disbelief while brushing away the debris.
"I'm sorry." It's hard not to laugh. This guy is something else. She can't resist the smile spreading across her face at his weird antics.
"Middle school, talent show. You were doing your cheer thing. You know, the… the thing you do. It was pretty cool, actually." Eddie crosses his arms and pushes leaves on the ground with his shoe. "And I was with my band…?"
"Corroded Coffin!" It hits her like a ton of bricks. That's right… Every year, her mother always pushed her to do the talent show. From elementary to high school. To show everyone what she can do and give her parents something to boast about. But there was only one band she recalls playing then.
"Yes! You do remember!" He claps his hands excitedly, thrilled that they're finally on the same page.
"Oh my God! Of course. With a name like that, how can I forget?!" That was back when she was in sixth grade. New to middle school. The band that played was so different from every other act. She can still remember some of the parent's faces when they started performing.
"I dunno. You're a freak." The crooked grin on his face tells her it's supposed to be a compliment. Very different from the way it's used against him. Something about it makes her feel weird, but not in a bad way.
"No, it's just that you look so… different." Chrissy never would've guessed the boy from six years ago was the same one standing just a few feet away.
"Different? Yeah. Well, my hair was buzzed, and I didn't have these sweet old tatties yet." He yanks down the front of his club shirt to show off a tattoo on his chest. A strange-looking head. Maybe a skull? Or is it some kind of monster? There's another one just above it, to the side, but his fingers are blocking it.
"You played guitar, right?"
"Uh-huh. Still do. Still do. You should come see us. We play at The Hideout on Tuesdays, usually around 8. It's pretty cool. We actually get a crowd of about five… drunks." Eddie keeps moving around like he can't stay still for two seconds. But he makes her laugh, and she finds the warm sensation growing in her chest surprisingly pleasant. "It's not exactly the Garden but you gotta start somewhere, right?"
"You know, you're not what I thought you'd be like." It's a welcome yet unexpected twist. Chrissy always thought he was a bit of a cocky hardass, despite his reputation as the school freak. Loud, combative, rebellious… Not trying to get along with anyone or fit in anywhere like everyone else. He carved out a small corner for the Hellfire Club and lobbed insults like molotovs at the other groups.
Yet here Eddie is, bending over backward—literally—to build a bridge of sorts to her, the head cheerleader. He didn't leave, even after the way she was acting. Most people might've been put off by it and left. But he stayed, making her laugh and trying to get her to remember they hung out a long time ago. A bad person wouldn't do that, right?
"Mean and scary?" He arches a brow, pulling a handful of dark hair across his face to cover his mouth. "Yeah, well, I actually kinda thought you'd be kinda mean and scary, too."
"Me?! " Chrissy looks up at him in surprise. Those are two words that she couldn't imagine someone relating to her. Compared to him, she's just a munchkin. A marshmallow. No bark and no bite.
"Oh, yeah. Absolutely terrifying." His smirk widens as he sits down on the bench. "So, in other good news, flattery works with me, so…" The pail comes back out onto the table. He flips the lid open and pulls a bag out, dropping it in front of her. "Twenty-five percent discount for the half. Fifteen bucks. You're robbing me blind here, you know."
Just for a few minutes, all that business had drifted away. Shoved into the background. Out of sight, out of mind. She almost forgot the reason they were out here in the first place. And what happened before he showed up. Now it's all back. It was nice while it lasted.
The smile on her face disappears while looking at the bag of weed. Will that do the trick? Maybe when it was just for sleep and food-related issues. What about hearing or seeing things that aren't there? Unless they're the result of the first two problems. She doesn't know and is too afraid to ask anyone, out of fear of what might happen. Telling anyone what's really going on could land her in Pennhurst.
"Do you have anything… stronger?"
"Stronger?" Eddie's playful expression vanishes at the question. His eyes widen and he leans back on the bench, regarding her carefully. The silence between them puts her on edge, not knowing what he might be thinking. Was it a mistake to even ask?
His brow furrows, and he glances away. Looking at anything and everything but her. It's upsetting. Just a few moments ago, they were laughing and getting along. Now it's like there's this incredible distance between them that leaves her feeling cold and lonely again. Experiencing the warmth, even for a little while, made it apparent what's been missing. And she doesn't want this unfamiliar sensation to go away. Not over some stupid drugs.
'I was lucky to get him to sell me pot. I shouldn't have pushed it.'
"I… Maybe this—"
"Actually, I think I have what you're looking for." Eddie blurts out, effectively cutting her off before she can change gears.
"You do?"
"Yeah." He slowly nods, crossing his arms over his chest. "Yeah, I got it."
"Okay. So, um, what do I do?" All of this is completely unfamiliar to her. Types of drugs, terms, prices, how they're used, amounts… How to ask and go about it. Might as well be a foreign language. She has no clue how to handle any of this. Without his help, she's just a fish out of water.
"When do you need it by?" His gaze shifts to his hand as he messes with one of the clunky rings on his finger. Absentmindedly twisting the cross with skulls around, then doing it again.
"As soon as possible." There's no telling when she might hear that voice again. Or see those disgusting spiders. If the drugs might help, it's better to find out soon. Just in case.
"Gotcha. It's, uh, at my place. The Special K. You said you have a game after this, right?"
"Yeah, it shouldn't be too long. Maybe an hour and a half? Two hours?" The game itself isn't actually that long. Four quarters that are eight minutes each. It's the breaks, timeouts, fouls, and everything else that adds so much time.
"Do you want me to pick you up afterward?" He asks quietly, looking up from his rings.
Chrissy debates it for a moment. That would be a lot easier for them both. There's just one big issue. "Mm. Jason's expecting me to be waiting for him to give me a ride home." If other people at school saw her getting into Eddie's van, all hell would break loose. Just thinking about it is anxiety-inducing. Being seen with him isn't the problem. It's that she doesn't want to make his life difficult.
"Ah, yes. Jason Carver. The Golden Boy." His upper lip curls in annoyance. As if just saying that name leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. When the two started despising each other is a mystery to her. She just began noticing it during junior year. Why? It seems so silly.
"Do you know where Roseline Street is?" She hopes changing the subject and moving it away from Jason will put him in a better mood.
"It's in the hoity-toity section, right?"
"Mhmm. Would you maybe be willing to pick me up at the corner of Roseline and Douglas? Around 7:30?" That'll give her enough time to get home, get changed, sneak out, and get to the meet-up spot. She can climb down the tree outside her bedroom window and slip away for a while. And it's down the street so her dad won't see the van out front. That's if he agrees…
"Sure," Eddie answers right away like there's no need to spend even a second thinking about it.
"Really?"
"Yeah, why not?" Hanging onto the edge of the picnic table, he leans far back, rocking in his seat. And giving her a look like she's being ridiculous. As if she's not asking too much of him and being a pain in the ass. "Got practice with the band, anyway. I'll just swing by afterward to scoop you up."
"How much should I bring with me?" If it brings some peace of mind, it'll be worth the money. Every penny.
"Well, I think I have about... You know what? Just bring the fifteen I mentioned before. We'll figure it out when we get there."
"Okay," Chrissy says softly, reaching up to touch the '86 necklace displayed between her clavicles. This is all so surprising. Eddie Munson is very different from how she imagined. He can be warm, kind, and funny. Just makes everything seem a little brighter. "Thank you."
There isn't band practice.
Not tonight, anyway. That was just another case of bullshit slipping out before he could catch it. What sounds cooler? Jamming out with his band or admitting he's with a handful of Hellfire members working on character sheets for a side D&D campaign?
Technically, the band is here. Gareth, Jeff, Grant, and himself. And he didn't tell her they were practicing music. Well, whatever. It's already said and done.
"So how are you going to explain why Bruenor can speak Sylvan and Druidic? That last one is secret!" Grant glosses over the sheet in confusion before handing it back to Dustin.
"I'll work it into his backstory… somehow. Hey, there's still time to fine-tune the details. I'm not done yet."
Eddie stares down at the draft he's supposed to be working on, not paying much attention to the banter going back and forth. Since the Hellfire Club only has the theater room on Fridays, they had to find somewhere else to do this. It varies, depending on the day and what's going on. Gareth's place, Jeff's garage, Wheeler's basement, Henderson's bedroom… This time, it's the latter.
'6:50.'
He shifts on the rug, finding it hard to sit still. The room isn't huge and with everyone piled into it, there's not a whole lot of space. His folded legs keep bouncing in place and accidentally bumping into Grant's.
"Jeez, Eddie. That's like the hundredth time you looked at your watch in the last fifteen minutes." Dustin drops the book he's using to write onto his bed, giving him a curious look.
"Yeah…" His eyes flicker back to the watch on his wrist. It's 6:54 now. Almost showtime. "I, uh, gotta run." He says absentmindedly, quickly shuffling the papers into a messy pile and shoving them in one of his D&D books.
"What? What do you mean you gotta run? Now?" Even without looking at him, he can tell Grant's mouth is hanging wide open. It always is when the big guy's annoyed.
"Yeah, man. Now. Got places to go, people to see." It's a pain trying to keep his face unreadable with them all staring. Not to give anything away… Hopping to his feet, he gathers his stuff while ignoring their questions and protests. Nope. They don't need to know. No one does. "Sayonara, suckers!"
Closing the bedroom door and blocking out the noisy complaints behind it, Eddie strides through the Henderson's living room to leave. The guys might be irritated, but they'll get over it. If any of them were in his position, they'd completely understand… Probably.
"Have a good night, Ms. H."
The older woman lounging on a recliner looks up from the cat lying across her lap and smiles. "You too, sweety. Drive home safely."
"Will do." He snorts, trying to hide the crooked grin on his face. It's become something of a joke at this point. Everyone knows how he drives. Ms. H almost had a heart attack the first time he dropped Dustin off and she was home. Thankfully she doesn't seem afraid of him anymore. That's a plus.
'Dammit… 7:03.'
Eddie closes the door gently to avoid upsetting Dustin's mom before dashing to his van. The meeting spot isn't too far away but it's better to be early than late. For this, anyway.
"Okay, Judas. Do your thing." Popping in the tape, he turns the volume up as loud as it can go and tears out of the driveway. It's a fifteen-minute ride to the ritzy section so it should only take him ten, max.
Long fingers tap on the steering wheel, going along with the music. It helps calm his nerves. The louder it is, the better. Usually, it works. Not so much tonight. They're going haywire.
"Here we go." A fancy-looking sign comes into view with a small light shining on it. Welcoming people to the area. It's doubtful they meant people like him. The folks on this side of town mostly act the same. Sitting in their lavish houses, driving those expensive cars, and looking down their noses at everyone else.
It's mind-boggling going through the section. Seeing the difference between this and the trailer park… Who would even think they're both in Hawkins? Like two completely separate worlds, just fifteen minutes apart.
Cruising down Douglas, the corner where it meets Roseline finally pops up after a few minutes. This is the place. He parks away from the streetlights to get some cover, not wanting to attract any attention from those that live nearby. No one needs a paranoid richie calling the man to complain about a suspicious van in their area…
"7:22," Eddie whispers to himself. It's hard to resist checking every few minutes. Letting out a deep breath, he leans over to look at himself in the mirror. Again. Just like on the way here. Still a hot mess, as intended. Nothing's changed but that doesn't stop him from doing it anyway.
This is insane. Chrissy Cunningham is coming to meet him. The Queen of Hawkins High hanging out with Eddie 'The Freak'.
'And she has a boyfriend. Jason Carver, of all fucking people. Captain of the Douchebag team.'
Why does he have the worst luck sometimes? The girl he's had a crush on since middle school finally talks to him and it's for drugs and she's already in a relationship. With a complete asshole, at that. Is this divine punishment for being a little shit for so long?
'Well, whatever. This is a chance to get to know her better.'
Turning off the van, he tries to sit still and it's impossible. There's just too much energy coursing through his body. Like when someone takes a few too many lines of coke and gets all jittery. That's him. Just without the drugs. Constantly looking from one mirror to the next, while tapping his feet and fingers along to an imaginary rhythm.
"Dammit." Waiting here is going to drive him insane. Grabbing a pack sitting on the dashboard, he hops out to lean against the side of the van. A smoke should help get rid of some of this tension. He needs a clear head. Otherwise, any stupid thing that comes to mind might slip through the filter after she shows up.
Taking a long drag, he tilts his head back, watching as the smoke dances up into the night sky. Maybe things are taking a turn for the better. This might actually be his year.
'Finally.'
"Eddie?" A quiet, hesitant voice calls out. He glances over to see a small figure behind the van, staying at a distance. Smart. It's better to be safe than sorry. With how dark it is and parking away from any homes and streetlights, she probably can't see very well.
"...Yeah, it's me." The urge to crack a joke is so tempting, but he thinks better of it. Giving a straight answer in this situation would be the right thing to do. She's a woman alone at night, walking up to a shady-looking van that might be a classmate. Her apprehension is obvious and understandable. Even the fancy neighborhoods can have creeps roaming around.
Chrissy seems satisfied with the response and comes closer. "Sorry for making you wait. It took longer than I expected." She smiles apologetically, tugging on the bottom of her sleeve.
'Cute.'
Still in that little cheer outfit… Did she rush over after getting dropped off? Must have. Despite the darkness, his sharp eyes can see the loose strands of strawberry blonde hair that fell out of her curled ponytail. He's seen the cheerleading team do their thing at pep rallies and whatnot many times, and her hairstyle is always still neat afterward. Perhaps it's from running here? That's what he settles on. The other ideas that come to mind gnaw at his insides.
"You're good. Ready to go?" The cheer captain nods and rubs her hands together, taking a deep breath that turns into small puffs of fog in the chilly air. Eddie walks to the other side of the van and opens the passenger side door, holding out his hand to help her in. Like a gentleman or whatever.
'She's gotta be cold in that.'
At least it's still warm inside. It might take the heater a few minutes to kick on. When she sits down, her knees start bouncing, and he's not sure if it's because she's cold or nervous. Maybe a mix of both.
Neither of them talk for the first half of the ride. Just listen to music. Chrissy stares out the window and plays with the hem of her skirt. Sitting as far back in the seat as physically possible. While he drums his fingers along the side of the steering wheel to Iron Maiden's 'Piece of Mind' album. Every so often stealing a discreet glance at the woman beside him, trying to gauge her reaction.
"Um…" Eddie turns the music down the moment he hears her say anything. If she wants to talk, then Maiden has to take a break. He knows it's blasphemous, yet will accept the punishment. "So, what is Special K? I've never heard of that before. Except maybe the cereal."
Seeing the sweet, innocent look on her face fills him with guilt. Maybe bringing up the Special K earlier was wrong to do… She initially came to him for pot, then wanted something stronger. Whatever's going on must be serious for someone like Chrissy to seek out hard drugs.
It wasn't an easy choice but he had to do it. When someone is that desperate to escape, they'll find a way. No matter what. If she insists on doing it, he'd rather it be with him. There are too many shitty people out there who would love to take advantage of the situation.
This way, she will be safe. He'll make damn sure of it.
"Well, it's… The 'K's for ketamine. It's an anesthetic. People used to use it in Nam but now it's mostly for partying. Basically, it numbs pain and gives you a little break. If you catch my drift." Eddie grips the wheel and debates how to explain the rest. Even if it's impossible to say no to her, she needs to understand what could happen. He owes it to her to lay it all out so she can make that decision.
"Let me give it to you straight. Taking too much can end badly. Same as with every other shit. You might start seeing things or fall into a k-hole. That's where the trouble is." Trying to say it so casually doesn't lessen the blow. Those worried blue eyes make it very clear. "But don't sweat it. That's what I'm here for. We'll start off slow. I gotta good idea of what you'll need."
"Are you doing it too?"
"Nah. I'm the trip sitter. My job is to make sure you're good. Can't do that if I'm all messed up. Besides, that's not… really my thing." It's on him if anything goes wrong tonight. His place, his drugs, his invite, his responsibility. If there's ever a time to be clear-headed, it's for this.
"Do you think it could help with sleep?" She asks quietly. It's almost too low to pick up on, but his hearing is just as good as his vision. So is that the goal? Or just part of it?
'Knew it.'
"It can. Really depends on the amount and person taking it. I guess we'll see, huh?" At least she's talking more now. That's a good sign. Even if it's just asking questions, which he's more than happy to answer.
"This is, uh, my castle…" Eddie stretches out his arms in front of the trailer. The scene just doesn't make him feel good, no matter how he looks at it. Especially when she walks through the fumes surrounding the van just to see this run-down place.
It's not much, but it's still home. And his uncle works countless hours just to keep that roof over their heads.
Chrissy appears so out of place in Forest Hills to him. The cheer captain's probably never stepped foot in the park before, yet it doesn't seem to faze her. He's grateful for that. It would hurt to see that judgemental expression on her face.
He runs up the steps to get the door for her. A wave of excitement and anxiety runs through him that's difficult to contain. On one hand, Chrissy Cunningham is in his home. On the other, Chrissy Cunningham is in his home. The 'it girl' at Hawkins High that lives in a wealthy area with an enormous house is stepping into the living room of the small trailer he shares with his uncle on the bad side of town. A sliver of unease mixed with shame creeps into the background, almost taunting him.
"Sorry for the mess." His jaw tightens as he quickly snatches up food wrappers and an empty beer can off the counter. And silently cursing himself for not stopping by to clean up before getting her. There was plenty of time. It just slipped his mind. "Maid took the week off."
"You, um… You live here alone?" To his surprise, Chrissy's very interested in everything. Standing in the middle of the living room and doing a small turn, her eyes gloss over every inch of the space. The sports team hats hanging on the wall. A framed picture behind his uncle's recliner. All the objects sitting along the mantle above the curtains. The small TV set a few feet away from her.
"With my uncle, but he works nights at the plant. Bringin' home the big bucks." Eddie murmurs as he pulls open a drawer, sifting through its contents. Checking each tin and container thrown in there. Nothing. Just a bunch of random crap. He bites the inside of his cheek, trying to remember where he put the damn thing.
"Does it take long to work?"
"Uh, well… Depends if you snort it or not. If you do, then yeah. It'll kick in pretty quick." The next drawer is the same. Pens, bread ties, notes, a tape measurer, a tin with buttons… But no Special K. "Ah, shit."
"Are you sure you have it?" She's nervous again. He can hear it in her voice and see it from the way she's holding herself.
"No, no. I got it." Now he's starting to panic a little. It's got to be here somewhere. When a dude from The Hideout gave it to him, he remembers putting it in a black cigarette case and stashing it away. For a rainy day. And now the time has come where it's needed.
'Bedroom.'
Eddie strides down the short hall to his room, trying not to seem like he's rushing around. At least, not while she's standing there and can see him. It's a different story once he passes the doorway. After showing his beloved guitar some love, he tears into the drawers and boxes, cursing himself for not being more organized.
Of course when it seems like the stars finally align, something has to go wrong.
"Ah! Gotcha!" His eyes light up seeing the large tin in the back. That's it. Now looking at it, he recalls putting it there specifically with some prescription pill bottles and other things he doesn't want his uncle accidentally seeing. Wayne overlooks the whole pot stuff, but there's no need to worry him with the rest.
The lamps on the dresser and desk flicker. A quick flash, then back to normal. Eddie scowls, taking the small bag out of the cigarette case and tossing it back into the tin. The electricity in the park sucks ass. Going out at the worst times and never really reliable. Maybe someday they'll live in a place where that's not an issue.
It happens again. This time, the lights go berserk. Turning on and off throughout the entire place. He can see it happening in the hall from across the room, too.
"Goddammit!" This piece of shit trailer… Why now of all times?! Getting to his feet, he looks around the room in annoyance. It's usually not this bad. Did some drunk run into a pole or something?
"Eddie?... Eddie?!" His legs move before his mind registers what's even happening. The panic in her voice… That's not normal.
Eddie runs out of the room to see what's wrong. In the two seconds it takes to get past the counter, it all goes back to the way it was. The lights finally stop flashing, but she's white as a ghost and trembling.
'What the hell? Has she never seen power act up before? It happens here all the time.'
"Hey, hey! You okay? It's just crappy wiring. Nothing to be scared about." He acts casual about it, hoping that and a grin will put her at ease. It doesn't. "Chrissy?" Waving a hand in front of her face finally grabs the cheerleader's attention. She looks up at him, shaking like a leaf and it's alarming. How can someone get that scared from such a minor inconvenience?
"It's alright. See? Everything's fine." The lights are dim but at least they're working now. He thought for sure the whole place would go out and they'd have to wait for the electric company to come out in the morning to fix whatever's wrong. But it appears Lady Luck is throwing him a bone for once.
"Look. I found it." Maybe this will put her in a better mood. Or at least help her forget this little hiccup. He holds up the bag, dangling in the air so all the powder drops to the bottom.
"Sorry…" Chrissy whispers, trying to even out her breaths. He raises a brow at that. Why is she apologizing to him? It's his trailer and shitty power that started this. If anything, it should be the other way around. But it's best to drop it altogether and move on. The expression on her face is bothering him. First, it was fear. Now she just looks sad. Not the usual bummed-out sadness. The deep-seated, bottomless pit kind.
'I don't like this.'
"Don't worry about it. So, are you ready?" A change of subject should lighten the mood. It's as dim as the lousy lamps all over the place. She nods, and that gives him a sliver of relief. At least she's still here. Walking over to the couch, he flops down and pats the space next to him. "Okay. A few things first…"
'This probably isn't such a good idea. Not with the state she's in. Set up is everything. Being in the wrong headspace can sink the entire ship.'
When she takes a seat next to him, Eddie grabs a book off the end table to put on his lap. This surface is fine for making lines. Everything needed to do this is on him. But he's going to take his time and give her a heads-up on what to expect. Maybe she'll reconsider this. If not, he'll do what he can to make it easier on her.
"So, I'll make a small line on this. Just enough to get you started and see how it goes. Okay? You take this straw and—" He leans down toward the book to show her the motions. Like a trial run before the real deal. "And snort it. Try to do it fast so it doesn't fall out. Should start kickin' in within five minutes. Fifteen tops. It'll last about an hour, though it depends. Could be more. Maybe less."
"But I'll be right here, okay?" Eddie adds in, seeing the worry written all over her. It's understandable. This is probably her first time doing anything like this. "Just a warning. It'll probably feel like your nose is on fire. If it irritates it, try to turn your head away first or you might blow it everywhere."
"Okay. Got it." That doesn't sound very convincing to him. She stares at the little bag sitting on the book intently, wrapping her arms around herself. He can't help wondering if this is what she actually wants. Or is it just a bandaid for a bigger issue?
'Of course it is, dumbass.'
"Hey, uh…" There's no telling if he's reading this wrong or just projecting his own thoughts onto her. It's very clear Chrissy's really struggling with this. From the way she's looking at the Special K to her feet shifting on the rug. It makes him hesitate. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to."
"What?" The cheer captain seems taken aback. Like that wasn't even a possibility. That only convinces him further that she's on the fence. If that's the case, jumping right into hard drugs like this won't end well.
"I'm just saying that if you're not feelin' it, we don't have to do this. It's not a big deal. I can put it away for another time." Tapping one of his ringed fingers against the book, Eddie watches her carefully, trying to sift through the subtle signs. If only he could read minds. That would make this so much easier. "If you want, we can just smoke a little. Something small. You know, take the edge off? Or we don't have to do anything. No pressure. It's entirely up to you, okay?"
He leans closer toward Chrissy, looking her straight in the eyes. Trying to convey that she has more control over the situation than she might realize. What happens next is up to her. If she wants to go home, he'll take her. If she wants to do a line of K, he'll get it ready. Whatever helps. As long as it's her decision.
It must've been true. She takes a deep breath and sucks in her bottom lip, biting down on it. A few quiet moments go by. That's fine. There's no rush. Her gaze stays fixed on his face, almost searching for something.
"I… Maybe another time, then. I'm a little scared to try the K. Sorry, I just… I don't know." She confesses, looking at him with uncertainty. It makes his lips pull back in a hard line. There's no reason for her to apologize. Not to him and definitely not for this.
"It's fine. It's fine. Don't stress it. So, what do you want to do?" Even if the K plan's dead, hopefully she won't want to go home right away. There's no guarantee a situation like this will ever happen again. This might be it, as much as that thought bums him out.
'I don't want her to leave yet.'
"Can we smoke? I mean, if it's not too much trouble?"
"Can we? Yeah. Hell yeah!" A wide grin spreads across his face. That was the original plan to begin with. And it means they can spend more time together. "Let's do it in my room. It's easier to clear out and I won't have to hear my uncle bitchin'."
"Okay." Finally, Chrissy's lips curl upward and some warmth fills her cheeks. It's the first genuine smile he's gotten out of her since they met in the forest earlier.
The jitters start up again as they head down the hall. Just like when he was waiting in the van.
"Shit." Before they head in, Eddie stops short and turns to her. "Just, uh… Just hold on for a sec." It almost slipped his mind. Without waiting for an answer, he barges into the room and looks around, cursing. There's no way she's coming in here with that eyesore. The blanket in the corner will have to do for now. It's thrown over the old mattress, hiding the many stains covering it. He might die on the spot if she saw that.
'Crisis averted.'
"Alright."
The cheer captain saunters in and curiously glances around the room. Same as with the living room. There's plenty to look at in the small space. Posters covering the walls, tape collection, random items on the dresser and desk, some band equipment, his beloved guitar… And all the crap he tore out and dropped on the floor while looking for the K… The pile of clothes sitting in the corner…
'Dammit.'
Anything that he really doesn't want her to see is out of sight, so there's that. This is manageable. While she's preoccupied, he gets to work setting everything up. Shutting the door and stuffing clothes from the pile under it to keep the smell from spreading throughout the trailer. Opening the windows. Pulling out his personal stash from the drawer next to the bed. Breaking up one of the large buds on top to roll into a joint.
"Have you ever smoked before?" It's doubtful, but she could've tried it at one of those parties the jocks go to.
"No. I was close, but it didn't work out." Eddie looks up from the paper between his fingers at her answer. What does that even mean? He's genuinely curious. Did she try getting it off someone else before going to him?
'Yeah, wouldn't surprise me to find out I'm not the first choice.'
"Okay, done. Do you want to light it or me?" Holding up the joint towards the light, he admires his own handiwork. This one's rolled with extra care. If it was a solo ride, it wouldn't really matter.
"You can." She gingerly sits on the edge of the mattress, rubbing her hands over her bare knees.
"Just a heads up. It'll probably burn. A lot. Your throat, I mean. Until you get used to it. And don't be surprised if you start coughing your ass off." Sticking it between his lips, he lights the end and takes a small hit. That's how it'll have to go. Just enough to give the appearance of joining in without getting totally fried. Not tonight. Back in the van, he said he'd make sure she's good and meant it.
"Here."
Chrissy takes the joint and stares at it cautiously, holding it between her slim fingers. What a surreal experience. Almost like a strange fever dream. The pungent scent drifts around them and she crinkles her nose, trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably. It's endearing.
"Christ!" She coughs within seconds of taking a drag, swatting away the smoke with her other hand. He can't help laughing. It went exactly as he thought it would. "You weren't kidding… It really does burn."
"Told ya."
They pass it back and forth with him taking as little as possible. Trying to avoid getting messed up but not wanting her to feel alone in this, either. That's not too hard. It would take more to get the job done.
"How do you feel?" It's apparent it's doing something. Her dilated pupils almost completely swallow up those stormy blue irises. They're glossy, with that familiar reddish hue taking over the whites of her eyes.
"Light." Chrissy looks up at him from beneath her heavy lids. "Really light. And my head's all fuzzy." She drawls, barely able to resist giggling and covering her face with a hand. Totally cooked… But that is the point.
"That's good, right?" This is what she wanted, no? To relax and let go for a while? Mission accomplished. Pushing off the bed, he grabs a pillow and waves the lingering smoke out the window. The neighbors don't matter, so screw it. His uncle doesn't need to get pissy. He might ignore a lot but he doesn't like the entire trailer smelling like pot. Especially after coming home from work.
"I think so." She falls back against the bed, letting her legs dangle off the side. "I feel great." Yeah, it definitely did something. This is the most relaxed he's probably ever seen her. Letting out a breathy sigh, she drops her arms above her head and stretches across the blanket.
Eddie freezes mid-swing.
'...Shit. '
This is fucked. The pillow gets tossed onto the floor and he makes a beeline for his record collection on the desk. Flipping through them without actually seeing a single one. He already knows their order like the back of his hand. Anything that might work as a distraction to ignore the heat biting at his face and ears.
'Shit, shit, double shit.'
His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard, trying to look at everything else but the obvious. Chrissy might be a little too relaxed. It's as if any sense of self-awareness dissipated with the smoke. Stretching out and purring like a cat on his bed…
"Do you want to watch something?" She needs to get up out of his room. As of like, two minutes ago.
"Ah-huh." Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her trying to sit up. And having a hard time with it. "Eddie… Help. Please."
'This chick...'
"C'mon. I gotcha." Getting the unsteady cheerleader onto her feet, Eddie guides her out into the hall and toward the living room. This is nothing. He's ended up getting stuck playing sitter before and some people can be a real nightmare, whether it's pot, alcohol, or something harder.
Chrissy is a piece of cake compared to that. Strawberry shortcake… And this is voluntary.
'Let's see what's on this piece of crap.'
The little TV across the room is always a pain in the ass to deal with. Turning it on, the screen fills with static. He stands in front of it and blocks her view from the couch, messing with the rabbit ears on top. She probably has a nice entertainment set at her place. One that doesn't need to be manhandled just to work.
A good smack on the side gets the signal finally going. Now, what would she be interested in watching with him? He crouches down to flip through the limited channels and hopefully find something. Richard Simmons giving a pitch? Pass. Local news? Hell no. A scary movie? Maybe not the best idea right now.
"Have you seen this before?" A grin spreads across his face as he turns towards her, pointing at the screen behind him. She shakes her head and mumbles something about her parents not letting her watch much TV growing up. What a shame. It wouldn't be surprising to find out the Cunninghams didn't let her do a lot of things.
"Oh, well… It's, uh, Golden Girls. They're replaying reruns of the first season from last year. I've been waiting for new episodes to come out, but they're taking their sweet-ass time… These four older chicks live together and… yeah." He falters, slightly embarrassed by his rambling. Those crappy antennas don't pick up a whole lot out here. So the selection's not great. "Just something to watch. You know…"
'Shut up already, dipshit.'
"Maybe it'll be in the TV Guide? News about when the new episodes might come out?" She says, slowly melting into the couch.
'Sweetheart, we don't even pay for this, let alone spend money on the Guide.'
"Perhaps."
Even from across the room, he can see her eyes are as red as the Devil's dick. High as a kite and soaring through the sky. Good for her. From the looks of it, she needed a break.
"Eddie." That soft voice makes him pause for a moment. Still crouching in front of the TV. A small hand drops onto the empty cushion, slowly rubbing back and forth. Without even thinking about it, he gets to his feet and steps closer to the couch.
'Shit, I'm in big trouble.
"So, why do they live together?" It's quiet, the way someone would speak in a theater to avoid distracting others. Her brows knit together as she leans forward, taking in everything on the screen. This episode is from the middle of the season. Anyone just tuning in won't get those details.
"Well, you see…"
They must've gone through three episodes by now. There's one left before The Facts of Life comes on. It's always the same shows on the same slots during the weekdays. That helped him find something she's interested in. Enough to listen while he gave a quick rundown on the characters and their dynamics. Makes it easier to understand what's going on for someone who waltzes in halfway through the season without seeing the pilot.
Taking a drag of a cigarette and blowing the smoke off to the side, Eddie quietly observes the woman next to him. Sitting against the corner of the couch with his arm across the top, so there's no telling if he's watching TV or not. It's easy to be discreet when he actually wants to.
Chrissy breaks out in another fit of laughter, grinning widely and occasionally covering it with the back of her hand. She's really enjoying herself. There's a way to tell, though it's subtle. When she smiles and it's genuine, it reaches her eyes. They'll light up with the rest of her face. That was apparent to him when they were in the talent show together. The way she interacted with different people gave so much away.
Anyone with two eyes should've been able to pick up on it, yet she still manages to fool so many even now. Not him. If there's one important thing his dad taught him, it's to watch people carefully. Patterns eventually begin to show and a person reveals more about themselves through their body language and habits than they probably ever realize. Figuring someone out makes it a lot easier to swindle them. At least, that's how his old man sees it… Those skills came in handy over the years, just for different reasons.
It's nice. Her real smile. Not the bullshit one she flashes in school all the time. The novelty in it is part of the reason he'd rather look at her than the TV. He's already seen these episodes a few times over. They'll play again. This, however, is a rare sight. It'd be a shame to miss it.
During the last episode of Golden Girls, Chrissy slowly starts nodding off. Her eyelids look heavy and she struggles to keep her head up. It only takes a few more minutes before she's in the opposite corner of the couch, breathing softly.
The rollercoaster she's apparently riding must've tuckered the cheer captain out.
'Totally zonked.'
Glancing at the watch on his wrist, it's already pushing 11… Now what? Is Mr. Cunningham expecting her back tonight? Does he even know she's out? Eddie's not sure what to do. They should've figured that out earlier.
"Do you think it could help with sleep?"
It's already pretty late. Waking her up if she's having sleeping issues might be cruel. And they both have school tomorrow. Not that he gives a crap. But she probably does.
Screw it. They can just go together in the morning. It's not a big deal. Carefully getting up from the couch, he grabs his uncle's Colts throw off the top and unfolds it. The trailer freezes in the middle of the night around this time of the year. And she's still in that tiny cheerleading outfit.
"Okay." This is probably going to become a mess later but whatever. He can't just leave her like that. Slumped on the cushions and hanging halfway off. Everything will ache in the morning. Cheerleading probably already does a number on her body as it is.
Putting the throw aside, Eddie sighs and squats down, untying her pristine sneakers. Setting them down on the rug. The things he does for… To be nice. Yeah, it's the decent thing to do. He's not a complete asshole. Gently, he scoops up her legs and lifts them onto the couch. There. Now she can stretch out to her heart's content. The last thing is to toss the throw over her and it's done.
Much better. Chrissy will be warm and covered up.
"Jesus H. Christ!" He whines to himself, collapsing onto his uncle's recliner. What a weird ass day… If she was riding on a rollercoaster, then he was hanging off the side, clinging on for dear life. This chick's going to give him a heart attack.
It's a wonder how the hell this happened. Looking over toward the blue cocoon on the couch, the dark shadows beneath her eyes are more prominent from this angle. Make-up isn't magic. It wears off after a while. And it does diddly squat against puffiness or swelling.
Letting out a deep breath, Eddie leans back in the chair, settling in. He'll do his best to stay up. Just in case. The TV's still on and there are more shows to watch. Anything to get his mind off the fact that Chrissy Cunningham is sleeping on his couch. After smoking pot and watching Golden Girls together.
Friggin' off the wall stuff going on, man.