"Alright, you sorry son's-a-bitches! Let's tear this place down!" The lights on the ceiling are hot and blinding. Sweat pours down his face, dripping from the tips of his messy hair. And the clothes he's wearing are drenched. Clinging to his skin like plastic wrap.

"Coffin! Coffin! Coffin!"

This is exhilarating…

"They might not invite us back after this one…" Jeff shrugs it off. That's right. No regrets. Management wanted to book Corroded Coffin for The Garden and that's exactly what they're getting.

"Shit happens." He grips the neck of his guitar and looks out at the crowd, his heart racing from the chaotic energy flowing through the arena. The stage lights aren't enough to stop him from seeing the sea of people chanting the band's name. Thousands and thousands of them. All here just to see them play.

With this next song, the pit is really going to get wild. He can't wait. Glancing towards the far side of the stage for the dozenth time, he grins and wipes the sweat off his brow with the black bandana he always carries. A woman with strawberry blonde hair smiles back, clasping her hands together in excitement. She pushes up onto her toes and blows him a kiss. He snatches it midair in a tight fist, pressing it against his chest.

A little something to keep him going…

Two large men with security uniforms stand on either side, making sure no one runs into her. The pit usually forms closer to the center of the crowd, though smaller ones can erupt anywhere. Some fans just get out of hand or start fights. Security knows to act as a barrier because if anything happens—even by accident—he's taking heads off with his guitar.

These bastards shouldn't test him.

"Coffin! Coffin! Coffin!"

The band members give each other a look, nodding. Time for the next song of the set. When he takes a step forward, the floor shakes beneath his feet.

"What the—?!" The entire stage jerks to the side, then the next. Grant loses his balance and falls over, almost knocking Jeff into an amp. It's out of control. Swaying back and forth, like it wants to buck the band off into the crowd. "S–Shit!"

"Eddie… Eddie…"

"Wha…" Cracking a heavy lid, a blurry figure slowly becomes clearer. A balding head, flannel shirt, and denim jacket. Another blow from the side jostles him in the chair, causing his head to lull around.

"What the hell, man?!" Eddie hisses, sitting up and looking around wildly. Still half asleep with no idea what's going on. It takes a few seconds to register the person standing next to the recliner. His uncle, Wayne. "C'mon… I was so close. We only had like two songs left."

"The only thing you're close to gettin' is a boot up your backside," Wayne whispers in annoyance, putting a hand on his hip. "Get your narrow behind up."

What a way to wake someone up… He runs a hand over his face, having a hard time finding the energy to move. Mornings are not his thing. And probably never will be.

Groaning tiredly, he blinks a few times and rubs his eyes, trying to get the sleep out of them. This is bullshit. Laying back down and knocking out again is so tempting, but his uncle might kick him instead of the chair next time.

"I'm up. I'm up…" Eddie raises his hands, not wanting another round of whatever Wayne's dishing out. What happened the previous night slowly comes to the surface as his eyes dart across the living room.

'Oh, shit.'

The TV's still on, playing infomercials that no one wants to see. None of the lights in the kitchen or bedroom were turned off. This month's electric bill is going to be a little less pretty. And on the couch is Chrissy Cunningham. Still dead asleep with his uncle's blue and white Colt's throw covering her lower half. The Hawkin's cheer uniform top on full display.

"Kitchen. Now." Wayne turns and walks the short distance to the kitchen area, standing behind the counter. The rack of cups partially hides his face, but a finger curls in a 'get your ass over here' gesture.

'Here we go.'

Getting up off the recliner, he stumbles sleepily across the living room. This sucks. Hopefully the bitching doesn't wake Chrissy up. That would be embarrassing. And a bad way for the two to meet. His uncle is a really laid-back dude. This must've got under his skin. Stepping into the cramped space, he leans against the counter by the sink and crosses his arms. Yep. Nothing beats waking up and getting reamed first thing in the morning.

"Why is there a cheerleader sleeping on my couch? And you in my chair? Hmm?" Wayne questions in a hushed tone, obviously to not wake up their 'guest'. The second one seems to be the bigger issue. God forbid someone else moves in on his ass space.

"What, would you rather find us in my bed?" It's too early for this. His brain and mouth haven't caught up to speed. They're out of sync. But hearing that come from his own mouth fully wakes him up, painfully aware of how it sounds. "It's… It's a long story." He shrugs, praying to whoever will listen that Chrissy's still knocked out.

"I see…" The older man rubs his chin, looking at him mindfully. "Well, it's already quarter to six. Ya'll got school soon. At least wake the girl so you can take her home to get washed up."

"Dammit." Looking over at the clock on the wall, it reads 5:46. Balls early in the morning. School starts at eight. Normally, he gets up with just fifteen minutes left before rushing out. Chicks probably need a lot more time. Hair, makeup, clothes, etc… It might take hours. Who knows? That thought didn't come to mind last night. He figured they could just go together, but that was stupid. Aside from getting ready, the last thing Chrissy would probably want is for people to see her getting out of his van. "Okay. Got it."

Satisfied with the response, his uncle nods and grabs his keys off the counter. "Don't run off too quick. I'll be right back."

"Where you going?"

"Just around the block." He trudges out of the kitchen on that note. The front door opens and closes quietly as the man leaves, being unnecessarily vague about his intentions.

'Whatever…'

Now comes the hard part. Eddie sucks in his bottom lip while looking over the counter at the small figure lying on the couch. This really blows. Some people can be a real pain in the ass to get up. Hopefully that's not the case here, but if his uncle coming in and talking to him did nothing, then this might be. The trailer door alone is loud as hell. Needs some WD40 on its hinges.

There's no point in beating around the bush. Just got to dive in and get it done. Stepping across the rug, he stops next to the old piece of furniture and crouches down. Staring. Chrissy looks so peaceful sleeping. An arm hanging over the edge and her lips parted, breathing softly. It's almost a shame to wake her up.

"Chrissy…" Nothing. Not even a twitch. He calls her name out again, putting a hand on her shoulder to give a gentle nudge. "Chrissy, wake up." A little mewl slips out as she shifts on the cushion, turning away from him.

'Fuck! I can't do it.'

"Uh, Chrissy? I hate to do this, but I gotta get you up. C'mon… Chrissy?" Reaching out, he rubs her upper arm and gives it a little shake, hoping that will do the trick. She groans and rolls back towards him. Thankfully, that seemed to work. Her eyes flutter open and land on him, slowly coming into focus.

"... What time is it?" The cheerleader's voice is tired, yet still sweet. Like she's not even bothered that someone just shook her awake. It's nice. A sound he wouldn't mind hearing in the mornings.

"It's, uh—" Glancing down at the watch he never took off, a frown forms on his face. Now time is just flying. It only felt like five minutes passed. The quicker it goes, the faster she leaves. "It's 6:01."

"Oh." Chrissy pushes on the cushion to sit up. It's clear she's still a bit out of it, slowly teetering with her eyes barely open. But the sleep seems to have done some good. The shadows aren't nearly as bad as last night. At least this place was of some use to her, even for something like that. "Sorry for last night…"

"There's nothing to apologize for." He chuckles, watching her gradually become more alert. Small hands start moving around to do a check. Rubbing any smeared makeup from below her eyes, smoothing out that cheer skirt, feeling to see if the twisted ponytail in the back is out of sorts. It is… Probably from moving around on the cushion. She pulls out the green scrunchie and gathers up all her loose hair, trying to make it look neat again. It was fine, but apparently not to her.

'That's the first thing she does? I usually just need to take a piss.'

The front door swings open and Wayne comes striding in, holding a plastic shopping bag. His eyebrows raise seeing Chrissy sitting up and his nephew crouched down on the rug a few inches from her.

"Well, good mornin' you two." The older man purses his lips, giving Eddie a look. One that gets thrown around when he's expecting good behavior… As if that's an issue here. But he probably has the wrong idea of what's going on, anyway. "Miss, don't think I've seen you 'round here before." He plops down on his recliner, making it rock while staring at them curiously.

"Oh... I'm Chrissy. Nice to meet you, Mr. Munson." She straightens up and folds her hands in her lap, all prim and proper. So flustered. A light blush spreads across her cheeks as she shyly glances at the floor.

'Christ, she's too much. What a gum drop.'

"Call me Wayne. Mr. Munson sounds too formal." He smirks, dragging his gaze from her to his nephew. Saying way too much with his eyes, as far as Eddie's concerned. Then he slips a hand in the shopping bag and pulls out something wrapped in aluminum foil.

"Here." When it smacks against his chest, he already knows what it is. "Thought you might be hungry. Not much time to cook somethin' up before ya'll gotta head out." A breakfast sandwich. "Pick one. Bacon or sausage?" His uncle turns towards Chrissy. She seems almost startled, as if not expecting to be included in this.

"I, uh… Well… Bacon?"

"Good choice." Instead of tossing it, Wayne leans over and gently hands it to her. "Do you want a drink?"

"Thank you. I—" It doesn't matter. Eddie's already heading to the kitchen to fill up a glass of water from the sink for her. And unless she wants a beer with breakfast, they have nothing else at the moment. After smoking last night, there's likely some cotton mouth going on.

When he sits down on the couch, she takes the cup and quickly sips from it. Yep. Her mouth is probably dry as hell. His uncle gets up to switch on the local news and they sit together in comfortable silence. Listening to the happenings going on in this boring little town while eating breakfast.

'This is wild.'

It's strange just trying to wrap his head around the situation. All there is to do is go with the flow. That seems to work out best so far. Enjoy it while it lasts.

Eddie already scarfs down the sandwich when he notices something out of the corner of his eye. Shivering. It's not apparent right away, but he can see it in her hands. Chrissy stares down at the unraveled square of aluminum foil, eyes wide and complexion pale. Slim fingers holding the last few bites of one half, while the other sits there in full, waiting to be eaten. A trickle of sweat runs down her temple and she visibly gulps.

That's an off reaction… Does the sandwich taste bad? He's had them countless times. The little ma-and-pa shop that makes them is one of the best in town. Cheap, convenient, and hits the spot. No, that's not it. She's struggling. It's clear with each tiny bite. And perhaps out of politeness, she's trying to force herself to finish it.

He gnaws on the inside of his cheek while thinking of what to do. She seems like the kind of person who's too nice to turn down or waste food when put on the spot. Or want to inconvenience anyone with an issue. His uncle's the kind to keep feeding someone until they burst. That's a bad combo.

'If I'm wrong about this, I'm about to look like the biggest asshole ever.'

Snatching the other half of the breakfast sandwich from her lap, Eddie sticks his tongue out and licks along the side of it. Far more dramatically than necessary. She gasps, staring at him in shock when he grins widely. "Mine now."

"Dangit, Eddie! Why you gotta be a pig? There's another one if you're that hungry." Wayne yanks off his hat, throwing it at him. The brim smacks against the side of his head and falls onto the cushion. "Sorry 'bout that. He's a good fella, I swear. Just can't help himself sometimes. Do you want another one? It's not bacon, but that's all I got left."

"No, that's alright. Thank you. It was really good. I'm already full." Chrissy laughs nervously, placing a hand on her stomach. Seeing the way she visibly relaxes now that the food's gone is telling. He has a few theories, yet nothing concrete to confirm any of them.

When his uncle's attention finally goes back to the news, she quietly looks at him with a small, appreciative smile. Hell… That was a close one. Messing that up would've made him seem like such a huge jerk.

"What's this?" Tossing a wrapper into the bag, his uncle leans forward in his chair to get a better look at the tiny TV screen. 'Urgent News' in bold red letters runs across the top and a lady in a tan blazer comes on, standing outside the police station. A picture of a young man pops on screens with a list of details below it. Name, height, weight, distinguishing features, last known whereabouts.

"I don't believe it… That's Danny Gibson. Johnny's boy." Wayne scratches his head, staring at the report in disbelief. "Nice kid. Can't see him getting into trouble. Just works on his dad's farm and minds his business. I swear… The last few years… It's been nothin' but craziness."

"Thanks a lot. For everything, I mean."

Eddie takes a quick peek at the cheer captain as they pass the fancy sign into her neighborhood. What a difference six or seven hours of rest can make. She has a little more pep in her step. The signs of fatigue that were apparent these last two weeks are practically gone. That just gets him more curious about what's going on and why. But it's not his place to pry.

"Yeah, no biggie." He waves it off nonchalantly, blowing smoke out the window. The rows of large houses come into view and it's a bit of a downer.

"I don't even remember falling asleep. That stuff really took me out. I hope I wasn't a pain in the butt? Or cause any… problems?" Seeing the concerned look on Chrissy's face, he just wants to reach over and pinch her cheeks. What a worrywart. Overthinking things and trying not to put people out. There's nothing wrong with a little self-care, even if it means needing someone's help. It's not like he wasn't a willing participant. That was established upfront.

"No, no. You're good. It wasn't a problem. At all. If anything, you took it like a champ. Some people get all goofy or wig the hell out. You should've seen me my first time. Hoo boy…" He snorts, flashing a crooked grin. That puts her at ease. She turns to look out the window, but he can see her lips curling up from the side.

'That's the ticket.'

Nothing interesting happened his first time. It was Indiana dirt. Sucked ass. He was more tired than high. If he had this current shit back then, it would've laid his younger teenage self right out. But if it makes her feel better to think he was a mess, then that's fine with him.

"So, uh… Where do you want me to drop you off? Same place?" They're heading down Douglas now. He already figured the corner they met at last night was a distance from her actual home. If neighbors or her dad caught a glimpse of Chrissy crawling out of this piece of crap van so early in the morning… And with a dude who isn't her boyfriend…

Eddie isn't ignorant enough to not understand the optics or implications. Or how folks on this side of town are. All they care about is appearances. Their reputation. And he knows exactly what they'll say about her. The well-off are bored and love to gossip. They won't hesitate to knock each other down a peg. Eat one of their own. Just for fun. Salacious stories are always the best and spread the quickest.

Personally, he doesn't give two shits. Let the nosey bastards talk all they want. He'd park right out front, walk her to the door, and flip off anyone watching. Even daddy big bucks. But he doesn't want to cause her problems. There's also no telling what her dad or Jason might do. She's the one that has to deal with them.

"Mhm. That's fine." As the corner of Rosaline comes into view, she sighs and sinks back into the seat. Someone's not thrilled to go home.

'Isn't the only one.'

Parking in the same spot as last night, he tosses the rest of his cigarette out the window and rolls it up. This might be it. There's no way of knowing. Looking over, she's staring down at the fingers playing with the hem of her uniform. Hesitant. Is that good or bad? It's not clear.

"Oh!" Eddie leans down to grab the pail off the floor. Maybe she just needs a little something to take her mind off the bullshit. Lighten the mood. Flipping the top open, he pulls out a bag and tosses it onto her lap. "Here, princess. That seemed to help with your sleeping problem. Though I don't recommend doing it before school. Not yet, anyway. You'll get clocked right off the bat."

Chrissy's hands fly up as she looks down in surprise. "Are you… Are you just giving this to me? "

"Yeah, yeah. I know. What a lethal blow to my profit margins. Might just put me out of business. Don't even know if I'll get my footing again after this one." A wide smile spreads across his face. He can't hold it in. The way she reacts to certain things just gets to him.

"I, um…" She gently touches the bag. Those large blue eyes stare at him, filled with uncertainty. It makes him shift in his seat. "Well, then at least take this." Grabbing onto the bottom of her skirt, she pulls it up, exposing the pale skin of her upper thighs.

And giving him an aneurysm.

His dark eyes widen into saucers as he almost swallows his tongue in shock. Nothing comes out when his jaw goes slack, too stunned to ask what the hell she's doing. Yet Chrissy seems unfazed. Beneath the skirt is the tiny shorts cheerleaders wear. She reaches into a mini pocket on the side, fishing around for something.

'Christ!'

That thin scrap of spandex hardly passes for shorts. They ride up, showing every little dip and curve. He tears his gaze away and focuses it on something random outside. A tree. Yeah… And the leaves blowing in the frigid morning air. Super interesting. Sucking his lips in, he pushes out deep breaths through his nose, trying to simmer down.

Is this chick genuinely innocent and unaware, or is this some sort of teasing? He's really not sure. Last night doesn't count because she was high. Not in her right mind. Maybe she's hungover and still isn't?

"Here." A small, out-stretched hand holds out a few bills to him. The fifteen dollars they talked about…

"Nah, it's cool. Don't worry about that." He wasn't trying to make a sale. That's not what this is. "It's a gift." Despite saying that, it doesn't seem to sit well with her. She sticks out her bottom lip in a pouty expression and pushes the money towards him again.

'Dammit. If she wasn't so cute…'

"Fine. Fine. I'll take this for now, but it's coming back around. Mark my words." Reluctantly snatching the money, it gets tossed into the glove compartment. For later. Even if he can't say no to her, it doesn't mean she's winning this. That money will find its way to its owner. One way or another.

Chrissy smirks, apparently pleased that she got her way. That only makes him want to pinch her cheeks even more.

"Thanks for giving me a ride home. I guess I'll… see you at school?" The last part comes out awkwardly like she's unsure. She straightens out her skirt before grabbing the door handle.

Eddie nods and grips the side of the steering wheel. Nothing smart or witty comes to mind for once. There's just a sense of discontentment that makes him want to sigh. It's stupid, he knows. That still doesn't change anything.

"Actually," His brows raise when she closes the door and turns back to him. "Can you hold onto this for me? For next time? Now that I'm thinking about it… If my dad accidentally found this, he'd kill me. And I don't know what to do with it anyway." The cheer captain looks up at him from under those long lashes, pinching the top of the bag between her slim fingers.

'For next time…'

"Gotcha." It's hard to hide the grin tugging at his lips when he takes it from her. "It'll be right here when you want it." Tossing it back into the pail, he closes it and pats the top. They look at each other for a long moment before she breaks it off and hops out.

'There she goes.'

Pulling out a cigarette from the pack, he shoves it in the corner of his mouth while staring in the rearview mirror. Watching the petite figure slowly getting further away until it disappears around the corner.

"Hah..." Eddie turns on the radio and runs a hand through his unruly hair. He's not sure what he expected from any of this. The last twenty-four hours really threw him through a loop. It still is. And there's an odd sensation spreading across his chest. It's light and warm. Feels nice.

Hopefully, it lingers there for a while longer.

"Darn it." Chrissy pants, pulling herself over the windowsill. This would be so much easier if she was a little taller…

Getting to her feet, she freaks seeing the time. The clock on the nightstand reads 7:16. Jason will be here in less than twenty minutes. A shower will have to wait until after school. The morning went by faster than expected.

'Yikes… Where do I start?'

Blue eyes dart all over the large bedroom. There's too much to do. Fix her hair, makeup, change, gather everything for school… Just enough to look presentable. Normal. So no one asks questions or makes comments.

Chrissy runs around the place frantically while keeping an eye on the time. Throwing the uniform on the floor, slipping into jeans and a long-sleeve blue shirt. Brushing out her hair. Remaking the ponytail without the twist. Reapplying a light layer of makeup and wiping away any smudges. Putting on a dab of perfume. Brushing her teeth.

Taking a look in the mirror, the cheer captain settles for being content with her appearance. It'll have to do for now. All done in about ten minutes. Not too shabby.

'Good. Great. Wonderful. Can't believe it.'

Her mind is all over the place. Like a ball bouncing off the walls that won't stop. After getting some sleep, there's more energy flowing through her than in the last few weeks put together. Almost enough to burst into a million pieces. So much is going on. There just isn't time to digest any of it right now.

She dashes down the stairs and stops at the entrance to grab her pink bookbag. Jason will be out front in about five minutes. He's rarely ever late.

"Chrissy."

It's like someone dumped a bucket of ice water down her back. Dousing the little flame reignited inside her before it really had a chance to spread. She freezes on the spot, realizing how incredibly stupid she is.

"You weren't in your room." There's no question or room for doubt. He knows for a fact she wasn't here. Probably checked at some point during the night. Of course. After being distant and not seeming to care for the last week, he finally does when she actually leaves without asking for permission.

Slowly turning around, she takes in a deep breath and faces him. "Yeah, sorry…" What else is there to say? Denying it is useless. She didn't come up with any excuses or alibis like a dumdum. Sleeping over Eddie's wasn't part of the plan. And she got so wrapped up in it all, that dealing with her father wasn't at the top of the list.

'He looks so exhausted.'

A situation like this should've caused an explosion. Not that she ever pulls anything like leaving and staying out all night without telling anyone. They're treading through unfamiliar waters. His reactions to small stuff alone were always enough to deter her from pushing any buttons.

"You're grounded this weekend. No going out. No boyfriend, friends, calls, television, music… No anything. Just homework, studying, and chores. Do you hear me? And if you dare step out of line one more time, you'll be sorry. I'll make it a month." His angry voice doesn't match his appearance. The bags under his eyes are worse now and she didn't really notice it before but he lost some weight.

"I can't listen to music, anyway. You already broke my Walkman…" She internally kicks herself as soon as it comes out. It was just a little snarky thought that popped up and slipped right past her lips.

"Don't start getting mouthy with me. Got it?" The frustration in his aging features intensifies as he takes a step forward. He's mad. The look in his eyes frightens her. Gathering up any bit of courage left, she slowly nods, hoping it'll appease him.

A horn out front honks a few times outside. Jason's here…

"Tell Jason I'm disappointed. It better not happen again. Or I'll ground you from him for a month and have a talk with his father." He looks at her expectantly, only backing off when she quickly nods in understanding. "Now get going. You both don't need to be late."

The weight on her chest lifts when he turns away and heads down the hall. Probably to his study. That could've gone a lot worse… Thankfully, it didn't.

Hearing the horn blare again, she snatches up her bookbag and heads out. The black Jeep's in the same spot as always. And on time. For once, she's genuinely grateful for that. Her dad wouldn't want to make Jason late. He's the star of the show, after all.

Chrissy runs across the lawn and hops into the passenger side, tossing her belongings on the floor. "Hey." She leans over and kisses him on the cheek. The same thing that happens every morning.

"Morning, babe." The corner of his mouth turns up into a smirk but stops. "Huh." Scratching the skin above the collar of his polo, Jason eyes her curiously. "Something's… different." She squirms against the seat as he inspects her. "Not sure what it is. Are you wearing different makeup?"

"Y–Yeah. New foundation." Her lips pull back in an attempt to smile. It fails. That's not it. Not even close.

"Knew it. Nothing gets past me." Jason slaps his knee, practically beaming with self-satisfaction. "Remember that." He waggles his brows and revs the engine. The radio's turned on to a popular station that plays hits from Billboard's Hot 100. The Jeep takes off, peeling down Roseline Drive.

"... I will."

'Ten more minutes…'

Sighing, Chrissy looks away from the clock above the door. The bell will ring soon. Homeroom ends, then they have a short window until first period starts. English with Mr. Nocito. Not her favorite subject or teacher. It's the long essays that make it difficult.

'I feel so much better.'

This is great. A good night's sleep really does wonders. It's almost like the last few weeks didn't happen. At least, it's easier to pretend they didn't. Taking a leap of faith and trying something new was the best decision she's made in a while.

That worked out better than expected. Even if her dad's upset… Maybe a joint would help him too? Let him get some rest for more than a brief power nap and actually give him an appetite. Just imagining him smoking makes her giggle. That'll never happen.

When the bell finally rings, everyone in class shuffles out of the room and into the hallway. She takes her time, letting others go ahead while humming a little tune. There's no rush. Moseying around won't hurt anyone.

"Ah, Chrissy. Can I talk to you for a minute?" The homeroom teacher, Mrs. Clarke, calls out right before she leaves.

"Sure?" Gripping onto the bookbag strap, she slowly walks back and stops right in front of the large desk. Trying to think of what this might be about. The older woman looks apologetic. A hand reaches out with a yellow slip. Taking it hesitantly, her eyes widen from realizing what it is.

A detention slip.

"I tried talking to Mr. Higgins to let it go, but… The most I could do was get them to schedule it for Tuesday, so it won't interfere with cheer practice or any games."

Chrissy stares despondently at the bold print and inked handwriting. Detention. Her. For sleeping in class, running off, and 'disrespecting' a teacher yesterday. That already seems like a lifetime ago.

"Don't worry. It's only thirty minutes. You can do some homework or read a book, and it'll be over before you know it." Mrs. Clarke's hoping to make it sound not as bad as it really is. Does she look upset? Enough that a teacher needs to cheer her up? Still, it's nice of her to try. Sitting around after school for a half-hour isn't the problem, though.

"Thanks. I'll… deal with this."

Stepping out into the hall, she crumples the slip in her hand. It's ridiculous. All these years and not one infraction on her record. Not a single one. And over something so silly? It would've made more sense for this to come from Ms. O'Donnell. She actually skipped her class entirely.

"Hey, Chris." The cheer captain squeals when two arms wrap around her waist, lifting her off the ground and twirling. It's Jason, and he's absolutely thrilled about something. The moment she's set down, he jumps into kissing all over her face, jaw, and neck.

"What are you doing?! " Chrissy pleads, pushing against his chest to put some distance between them. Everyone can see. The halls are full of students hanging around and on their way to first period. This is a little embarrassing. He's never been huge on more intimate PDA. So what gives?

"Since we won that game yesterday, the Tigers are officially in the sectionals. Andy just showed me the article about it in today's newspaper. So, all of Hawkins knows now too. We're on the path to getting that trophy." His eyes light up mentioning the newspaper. Of course, everyone who was at the game understood what winning it meant. But now the whole town does. And as captain, the team's success is also a personal victory.

"That's great!" She claps her hands and jumps up and down excitedly.

"And we have our beautiful cheerleaders to thank for keeping us motivated." He grins, cupping the sides of her face. His thumbs run along the tinge of pink spreading across her cheeks, becoming flustered by the compliments. "Especially the cheer captain. The prettiest girl in all of Hawkins. I'm a lucky guy."

"No, I'm the lucky one." She says quietly. There are lots of better-looking girls in this town, even on the cheer team. Jason just pushes aside her bangs and leans in to plant a kiss on her forehead.

"Do you remember what next Friday is?"

"What?" Next Friday? Chrissy blinks, drawing a blank. Is it some random anniversary? Like how other couples in school celebrate arbitrary milestones? One month, two months, one hundred days, or six months of being in a relationship?

"Come on. Take a guess. You know this." He drops his hands and sets them on his hips, staring at her expectantly. She really doesn't have a clue. If it has to do with the exact day they started dating, then she's in trouble. That was never important to her.

Trying to think of what he's talking about, her eyes roam around in hopes that something will trigger an answer. Looking past him, a familiar and unique design catches the cheerleader's attention. It sticks out like a sore thumb against the gray lockers and school colors. That red, devilish face with yellow eyes and ears—or fins?—against a white background. Not just one, but four of them.

'Eddie…'

Chrissy reddens when their eyes meet. The club leader's leaning back against the lockers, his arms crossed over his chest. She can almost smell the scent of cigarette smoke just from looking at him. Three other members are near him—one riffling through his own locker. A freshman, if she recalls. The other two are upperclassmen, talking animatedly about something. Possibly having a heated debate.

Eddie doesn't look pleased. At all... Nothing like last night or this morning. That demeanor reminds her of why she was scared of him in the first place. The frown on his face deepens as those dark eyes narrow on either her or Jason. It's not clear who it's meant for. Almost as quickly as their gazes connect, he breaks it off. Turning his back to her and jumping into the conversation with the other members. All she's left with is a view of that crazy hair and the large patch on his denim vest.

'Ouch.'

An uncomfortable emotion surfaces. She doesn't know what to call it. Sadness? Disappointment? It doesn't feel good. Is he angry? Perhaps he thinks she's a nutjob because of yesterday and was just being nice earlier. No one can blame him if that's what it is.

"Chris?" A hand clasps her chin and draws it back to the current situation. He sounds a bit peeved.

"Sorry. I was thinking." She chuckles and gently takes his hand in her own. "So, what's the answer? I'm coming up with nothing." Hopefully, he doesn't keep trying to force it. Poking out her bottom lip, she makes a pouty face— his weakness —and presses his palm against her cheek. It's warm and incredibly soft. Even when they started dating, that surprised her. In a good way.

"It's… It's Valentine's Day." Jason says slowly, clearly unaware that he's gawking. That's not something he does in front of others. Nope. Appearances matter, especially for team captains. It's very important to him. He suddenly pulls his hand away and shakes off the stupor. "So be prepared. I have something special planned for us."

"Sounds fun! I'm looking forward to it." Time's flying by. Valentine's Day is already next week? That means her birthday is right around the corner. She'll finally be eighteen. A legal adult. Graduation's coming up too. After that…

"Alright. I'll see you later, babe." First period's starting soon. A quick kiss and wink, then he's off. Walking through the crowded halls and running into Patrick. She watches the back of his varsity jacket until it's out of sight.

'I need to get going, too.'

Mr. Nocito's class is down the next hallway. She'll have to walk past the Hellfire crew… Great. If only Charlotte, Natalie, or the other cheerleaders were here. That would make her feel a lot more confident.

'I'm the captain. Hold that head up high and walk by, you dweeb.'

Chrissy does just that. Balling the bottom of her sleeves into tiny fists, she takes a deep breath and strides down the hall. Briskly passing the group while keeping her eyes locked straight ahead. If that expression really wasn't for Jason and Eddie directed it at her, she might make a run for it. It's better to avoid looking and finding out.

Relief doesn't come until passing the doorway to Nocito's room. That's done with. Dropping her bookbag on the desk, she wonders if they're going back to being strangers again. Act as if the last day never happened. Maybe that's for the best… For both of them.

"Oh, no!" Panic sets in as she begins checking all her pockets and rummages through the bookbag. Nothing. It's gone. The detention slip Mrs. Clarke handed her in homeroom.

'Where did I put it?!'

There are only a few minutes before class starts. Smacking a hand against her forehead, Chrissy looks up at the ceiling, trying to remember what she did with it. The teacher handed it over… She left the room and crinkled it… Then Jason came. It must've dropped when he picked her up.

Dashing into the hallway, she looks all over the place for it. Scanning the floor for a yellow slip. It has her name on it and everything. If the wrong person picks that up… What awful luck. The first time she gets one and it's gone within a few minutes.

The bell rings for first period. It's too late. Unless she wants another one, class is starting. Sighing, Chrissy drags herself back to Nocito's. Hopefully, someone just sees it as a piece of trash on the floor and throws it out.

The next few days fly by and before she knows it, Tuesday arrives. They were normal, uneventful… The way it's supposed to be. No strange occurrences or questioning her sanity. An enormous relief. Nights were finally for sleeping again, and her stomach could handle more than a few fries at a time.

It's almost like the past two weeks never happened. Maybe they didn't. Or it was all the concoctions of a mind desperate for relief. Either way, it's done and over now.

"I'm so glad to hear that. You look much happier, too. That's what's important." Ms. Kelly says as she writes a few notes down. It's nice to at least have a good appointment for once. "Is there anything you can pinpoint that might've had a positive impact? That could be helpful information for down the road."

'For when I'm messed up again.'

Chrissy's thoughts immediately settle on one thing, but she can't tell the guidance counselor about that. Absolutely not. Even if she occasionally confides in the older woman, there are things that need to be left private.

"Nothing in particular. Guess I'm just having a good week? Despite the detention and everything." There's not much to say about that. She just shrugs it off. "But it's been alright."

"That's a step in the right direction. Oh, before you go, I wanted to throw something out there. I've been thinking about the situation with your father. Since you said he's unlikely to see a professional and you're having a hard time talking to him in person… I was thinking of ways to work around that. From your end."

"Yeah?" She can't imagine what Ms. Kelly has in mind. Tricking him into a doctor's office? Trying to do it over the phone? A house call?

"This may sound a little odd, but perhaps you can write him a letter? Scribble down all the thoughts and feelings you want to express to him and leave it somewhere you know he'll find it. Unlike talking face-to-face, that will give you time to think of exactly what you want to say and a chance for him to let it sink in."

It does seem kind of silly… They live in the same home. Talking should be easy, but it's not. There's a distance between them that seems insurmountable. Not that their relationship was close before… But it followed the same path as her mother's health. Only getting worse and worse until there's no turning back.

"That's not a bad idea. I'll think about it." With a letter, he can't cut Chrissy off or try intimidating her. Everything will be there in black and white. He can choose to read it, ignore it, or toss it in the trash. The ball will be in his corner at that point.

"Good! It doesn't hurt to try." The counselor sets her pen down, flipping the notepad back to its front. It's almost time for the next appointment.

'It might…'

After throwing around niceties, the cheer captain grabs her bookbag and rushes out. Coming here always brings with it a sense of shame. It shouldn't. That's just another part of her mindset that needs to change. To try seeing things through a healthier lens, instead of mixing everything with a large portion of guilt and embarrassment.

"You have detention? How?!" Jason slams the Jeep door and turns around, folding his arms. It's the most shocked she's ever seen him.

"I… fell asleep in Nocito's class last week and got written up." Saying it out loud makes it sound even more ridiculous. People do a lot worse than napping in this building and don't get detention.

"Of course he did. That prick. Probably did it because you're my girlfriend and he hates my dad. They went to school together." His eyes narrow and lips curl up into a scowl. "You know what? I'll talk to my dad… See if he can convince Higgins to take this off your record. It's bullshit."

Chrissy sighs and pecks him on the lips. This really riled him up. He normally doesn't curse much when they're together. "Thank you. I should've been more careful, though."

"No, Chris. This is bullshit and you know it. You're always careful. It's—" Seeing the look on her face, Jason stops, swallowing the rant itching to let loose. "Nevermind. Do you want me to wait? I'll give you a ride home."

"That's okay. My dad's coming to get me today. Sorry I didn't mention it before. It just slipped my mind."

"Really? That's surprising. I can't remember the last time he's come up here. Well, I guess I'll get going then if he's taking care of it." Pulling her into a tight embrace, he gives a goodbye kiss and gets into his Jeep.

Now that Jason's leaving, all that's left is to get this over with. It's only a half-hour. But there's something bothering her… She lied to him. Her dad doesn't even know she has detention. No one besides the two of them and a few teachers has that information.

'I'm so stupid.'

It just came out. There was no reason for it, either. Except to not inconvenience him. He's got other things to do besides sit around for thirty minutes just to give her a ride home. The problem is that she doesn't have a way back now. Natalie would probably swing by. Or Charlotte. She can use the payphone outside of the school to call someone.

The room detention's held in is at the end of a hall on the first floor. Further away from most other classes. That's one thing to be grateful for. The chances of a random student walking by and seeing who's in there are pretty slim.

When passing through the doorway, Chrissy's surprised to find it empty. Of people, anyway. It's like every other classroom with desks, shelves, and motivational posters on the wall… Part of her expected it to be bare like a jail cell.

A man in his late twenties sits at a large desk in the back, reading a strange-looking book. Mr. Apice. A substitute teacher who also runs detention. She slowly pads across the tiled floor, unsure of what to do. Just take a seat? Or is she supposed to sign in?

"You need something, Cunningham?" A deep voice asks from behind the book, lowering it to get a look at her. He arches a brow that's partially hidden by his wavy dirty-blond hair. From his appearance, she would've pegged him for a beachboy or skater than a teacher.

"I'm here for detention."

Mr. Apice tilts his chin down and regards her for a moment before laughing. A real belly-buster. Like it's the funniest joke he's ever heard… It makes her want to smack him with his own book.

Realizing she isn't kidding from her expression, the laughter abruptly stops. The teacher gives her a curious glance and sits up in his chair. It's not a prank. He moves papers around on the desk, searching for something. "Ah! Here it is… Well, I'll be damned. That's some crazy shit. Your name really is on here."

What did he just say? Chrissy gasps, covering her mouth in surprise. She's never heard a teacher curse on purpose before. This guy really works here?

"What could you have possibly done?" The amusement and doubt in his eyes grind her gears. It's offensive. Does everyone think she's completely incapable of breaking the rules? That's bull. She just skipped a class last week. That's not something a goody two shoes would do.

"Oh, so you wanna be silent now, huh? Miss thing. You know… First, it's sleeping in class and pissing off teachers. Next is getting thrown in jail for selling tree to middle schoolers. That's how these things work. I don't make the rules… Just ask this one." He smirks, tapping his book against the edge of the desk.

'What the hell is he even talking about? And why did he ask me what I got written up for if he already knew?'

"Hey, I don't deal with brats. Got it?"

Wide blue eyes flash from the teacher to the door. Eddie comes strolling in, heading straight for the back row and plopping down in one of the seats. Without sparing her a single glance. Yeah, it's fair to assume they're not jibing. He slaps that old pail on the desk and leans back, kicking his feet up on the chair in front of him.

"You can sit and do whatever. I don't care. Just do your time and don't get on my nerves."

She nods and makes her way to an empty desk. One in the front row, on the opposite side of the room. Away from the other two. It seems like luck is not on her side. Not only does she get stuck with one of the weirdest teachers in the entire building, but it's on a day that Eddie has detention, too. What a coincidence…

Might as well try to keep busy. It'll make the time go by faster. Pulling a notebook out of her bookbag, she flips through the pages to find the place where she left off two periods ago. The letter for her dad that Ms. Kelly suggested. Even if he doesn't receive it, writing it can still be cathartic. It's not useless.

Still, she's doing it under the assumption he will read it. Too much thought is put into each word with that in mind. Maybe that's the wrong way to go about it?

"Hey, stranger. What are you working on? Homework?" Chrissy jumps and slams her notebook shut. When did he slip into the seat next to her? She didn't even notice… Trying to ignore the heat flaring up in her face, she stares down at the desk to avoid looking at him. "Oh, I see. It's super secret. A diary? Or love letter?"

"Knock it off, Munson. You're not slick. Flirt on your own time."

"Bite me, waver." The Hellfire leader spits out, turning in his seat to face the teacher. It gives her the chance to sneak a peek at him without getting all flustered. If he's trying to make small talk, then that means he's not mad at her. Right?

"Get a haircut, you bum."

The more they go back and forth, the more shocked she is. It does not sound like a conversation between teacher and student. Just a scattered string of insults. But they don't even seem mad. More like they're getting a kick out of it.

"Look… We both want something." Apice leans across the desk and raises his hands. "You want to graduate. I want a full-time gig. That's not gonna happen if you keep being a noisy little punk and getting us both in trouble with that old harpy next door. Higgins was up my ass last week. So do us both a favor and zip it when you're in here. 'Kay? There's like twenty minutes left."

'I don't think the noise is the only problem…'

"Whatever, man." Eddie drops back against his seat and crosses his arms. It doesn't last long. Only a few minutes pass before he starts fidgeting. Tapping a sneaker against the floor and drumming his fingers on the desk. Unable to sit still.

Chrissy carefully studies him, noticing how revved up he is. Too much energy with nowhere for it to go. He slides off the chair and ambles over to the table near the door, grabbing a couple of things off it. Loose leaf paper and pens. The moment he sits down, he flicks the cap off one and starts doodling.

A small smile plays on her lips as she opens the notebook again. Knowing he's not angry or trying to pretend they're strangers changes things. There's no reason to be worried. Maybe it was too early to assume anything. She goes back to working on the letter, feeling more upbeat now than in the last few days.

'I should just put it all in. Pull no punches.'

This is harder than originally planned. Opening up to someone that wants to keep themselves surrounded by high walls is no easy feat. She goes over the words already there, trying to formulate the next line.

A folded-up piece of paper lands on the notebook. Chrissy stares at it in wonder. Did he really? She steals a glance at him from the side to see what he's up to. And it's not looking at her. That's for sure.

Eddie's leaning against his elbow, facing the opposite direction. Shoulders raised high enough to touch his ears. The free hand holding a pen is moving nonstop. Working intently on a drawing of a monster gripping a mace with something— probably blood —dripping from the spikes. It's more detailed than she expected with the short time he's been going at it.

'He's really good. I didn't know he enjoys drawing…'

Picking up the note, a wave of anticipation washes over the cheer captain. She quickly unravels the page and lays it flat against the book. Her brows knit together glossing over the scratchy handwriting, carefully taking in all the details.

You want to go to the picnic spot after this and—

At the end of the sentence is a doodle of a guy's face. With messy hair poking out from beneath a bandana. A joint hanging from his lips with a stream of smoke soaring upward. The eyes are what really get her. Large circles with huge, dilated pupils that are obviously meant to be bloodshot from the visible blood vessels in them and heavy eyelids.

'He wants to go back to the forest and smoke after detention? Why there? Because it's close?'

Chrissy reaches up to grab a lock of hair to twirl around her finger. She feels light... Light enough to float all the way up to the ceiling. And there's a fluttering in her stomach that's getting stronger.

'What should I do?'

Jason would be furious if he found out. He absolutely despises Eddie. As his girlfriend, the right thing to do is stay away out of respect. A good partner should try to understand their significant other's feelings and avoid willingly crossing boundaries.

But she can't. Their little feud is absurd. A bunch of nonsense. And Jason technically never said anything about hanging out with him. He doesn't know. Probably couldn't even imagine that as a possibility. And it's already happened before... She wants to go. Wants to see that big smile again and experience the warmth he's capable of radiating.

'I'm going.'

Grabbing a pen, she sucks in her bottom lip and writes on the sheet.

Sure. Then draws an arrow pointing at the doodle, adding pretty good with a little heart next to it. Satisfied, she folds the note back up tightly and holds her hand out, flicking it back at him. It lands right in his hair. He jolts a little, then reaches up to fish it out.

She bites the nail on her thumb while silently watching his reaction. It's so lame. Like a silly little girl in middle school getting giddy over absolutely nothing…

A leg bounces around under the desk as he reads the note, letting out a sharp exhale from his nose. Giving a discreet thumbs up is the only response she gets. The page gets folded up and slipped under the other papers. Thin creases around his mouth and eyes deepen from a grin partially hidden behind the fist he's leaning against.

'Maybe mom was right… I probably am going to hell.'