"So, what did you think?" Eddie turns down the music, glancing over at her. There's some hopefulness in his voice.
"I had a good time." She answers honestly. Despite the hiccup in the beginning, it was actually a pretty good evening. More so than expected. "Probably not as thrilling as a satanic ritual, but it kept me entertained." That earns her a chuckle and a long look. They both know what people say about the club. It's not exactly a secret.
"Sweet. Wasn't sure if the meeting would bore you outta your mind or not. Color me surprised." He says, sitting up in his seat. "Good thing Grant didn't die. I wouldn't have heard the end of it for weeks. He almost didn't make it last session, either."
"That sucks. I'm not sure how this works, so I don't really get it. If you die, is that it? Like, do you have to sit out the rest of the campaign or something?"
"Not exactly. Someone can get mad and choose to quit—or try to—but there are options. Usually, they'll just create another character with a new sheet and stats. Then I'll just weave them back into the story. Now and then we can pull some bullshit out of our asses to resurrect one or fix 'em up. Depends on the campaign, what fits, and what everyone wants to do."
'This game sounds so complicated.'
"It's crazy how you guys can remember and keep track of it all" Just from what she's seen, there are so many rules and details. Most people at school have no clue. The teachers would probably be so shocked to see how good Eddie is with stuff like that, especially since he's considered a terrible student.
"It's not too bad after you get used to it. And we have books to help. You saw them. The Player's Handbook, Master's Guide, Monster Manuel… All the rules, stats, classes, blah, blah, blah. Basically, everything you need to play. If you end up..." The sentence falters as he stares straight ahead, his lips trying to form the rest, but nothing comes out. She can tell from the look on his face that he's thinking. Probably more than necessary. "I don't know, a little more curious, I could make a baby side campaign outside of our meetings for you. To try it out. If you're interested, I mean."
'It's kind of cute when he's being a big nerd.'
Chrissy pulls her knees up, letting her arms rest against them. So, he wants to create a small one for her to try? She can't say no after the way he just asked. "Sure, why not? It seems kind of fun." His eyes fly open in surprise. "If it's not a pain in the butt. I don't want you going out of your way. And I'll probably have a hard time getting it at first. Just a forewarning."
"Don't worry. I think I'll manage." Eddie smiles widely at that. From the way his hands keep fidgeting on the steering wheel, she'd venture to guess that he's excited at the prospect.
'This is what he enjoys doing, huh? Playing guitar, drawing, and D&D.'
"Oh, and I have a question." There was a lot tonight that she didn't quite understand. This is all unfamiliar territory. It's going to take time and some patience from both sides to get on the same page. If that happens at all.
"Shoot."
"What's a DM?" That's something she wanted to ask back at the meeting but was worried about getting laughed at by the others. It's probably a thing beginners would know.
"It's a, uh…" Clearing his throat, he tilts his chin down a bit. Maybe the question threw him off, or that's supposed to be common knowledge? "DM stands for Dungeon Master. Basically, the person who organizes and runs the campaign. That's my role."
"Dungeon Master." She repeats, liking the sound of it.
"What?" The Hellfire leader snorts and tries to tame the crooked grin forming on his face. He eyes her from the side with interest, switching between that and watching the road. A hand drops from the steering wheel to grab the open Mountain Dew can nestled between his thighs to take a sip.
"Nothing. Sounds kind of hot." Chrissy giggles and grabs a loose lock of hair, twisting it around her finger. Even she can't believe what came from her mouth. It was supposed to be 'cool' or 'neat', not 'hot'.
That was a mistake. The moment the last word leaves her lips, Eddie starts choking on his drink, causing the van to swerve a little too close to the curb. She scrambles over to smack his back before he finally hits the brakes. Stopping halfway over the line at the sign.
"Oh my God! Are you okay?!" That was not the reaction she was expecting. Killing him wasn't part of the plan. Neither was saying DM's sound hot. This didn't go well at all. Any further to the right and they could've been in trouble. "I'm sorry. I d—"
A hand being held up cuts the apology short. Yanking the front of his shirt up, he wipes his face and takes a deep breath, attempting to regain his composure. "Nope. You said what you said. Can't take it back."
'Well, at least he seems okay now.'
"My bad. Didn't mean to scare you." Tugging his club shirt back in place, Eddie sits up in the seat and dumps the rest of the drink out the window. Not that there was much left, anyway. "Wasn't expecting that." He laughs awkwardly and starts driving again.
"Me either, to be honest." A few minutes go by in silence. That was really embarrassing… Probably for them both. She just had to open her big mouth and let that slip out. They just began hanging out recently. Making things weird was not her intention.
"I don't think those words have ever been spoken in all of human history…" He says quietly, shaking his head. "Chrissy Cunningham, you are Grade A freak material." That might've stung coming from anyone else. From him, it's a compliment.
When they turn into her section, Chrissy's stomach twists into knots. This is almost over… It's a shame. She doesn't want it to be. Part of her is afraid of what's going to happen when they go their separate ways. There's no one home, either. She'll be all alone in that quiet house, left to stew and think about things that terrify her.
'I don't want him to go… Asking for more is too selfish. He's already done more than enough.'
"You can drop me off at my house if you want, instead of the corner." Eddie raises a brow, intrigued at the change. Usually, he just drops her off at the same spot. The corner of Douglas and Roseline, but this will buy her a few extra minutes. "My dad's gone. He went on a trip and won't be back for two weeks."
"Yeah? You're not worried about the neighbors seeing little ol' me pulling up?"
"They can shove it… or whatever you said before." She says the last part shyly, sucking in her bottom lip when he grins approvingly.
"Well, alright! Now that's what I'm talkin' about. Just tell me where I'm going."
"537. It's a white house with a driveway and garage on the side." That's not much help if a person's just looking at the homes themselves. Thankfully, most have mailboxes along the street with large, bold numbers on them.
"They all look the same to me." Just as she thought. He's not wrong, though. Her home isn't too far down the way. It comes up pretty quickly. Pulling into the driveway, she fiddles with the bottom of her cheer skirt anxiously.
"Christ." Eddie leans forward to look out the front window after parking the van. Taking in the details of the large home. It makes her feel a little self-conscious when he says nothing else. If only mind-reading was a thing.
"Thanks a lot for everything today. I don't know what I would've done without you."
"Are you gonna be okay?" Tearing his gaze from the house, he looks at her and presses his lips into a firm line.
"Yeah. I hope so." She breathes out, not realizing her knees are bouncing. Sitting with him in the van is one thing. Here, it's fine… Safe. Getting out and leaving? That's different. There's no telling one way or the other yet. By the time she figures it out, no one will be around.
"Here." Opening the glove box, Eddie reaches in and shuffles stuff around. "Nope, not that." He grimaces, shoving whatever it is further back. Even with the streetlights, all she's able to make out is a bunch of tapes.
'What's he doing?'
Pulling out a scrap of wrinkled paper and pen missing its cap, a portion is torn off and pressed against the steering wheel. He writes something down while chewing on the side of his lip. "Our phone's a hunk of junk, but you should be able to get through. Call me if you need anything. You know, since you're home alone and whatever."
"Okay, I will." The paper gets folded up and slipped into the pocket of her cheer jacket. That's comforting. If worse comes to worst, there's someone to call for help at least. Grabbing her bookbag off the floor, she scoots over to get out.
"Wait! Hold on for just a sec. Almost forgot—" Chrissy pauses, watching as a long arm reaches over the back of the seat, feeling around. She's not sure for what but knows there's some music equipment and boxes on the floor. They slide around when he takes turns too sharply. "This is for you."
A rolled-up shirt gets tossed onto her lap. Picking it up, she unravels it and her eyes light up looking at the design on the front. "For me?! "
"Uh, yeah… Had an extra one lying around, so figured you can have it. Since you were co-DM tonight and all." He waves it off, looking away. "I guess that kinda makes you like, an honorary member."
'I can't believe he's giving me one of these.'
She holds it up to the window to use the streetlight to get a better look. "It's a lot softer than I imagined. This is really cool."
"It's nothing," Eddie says nonchalantly, shrugging. His voice is missing some of the liveliness it usually carries. The cheer captain tilts her head and looks at him curiously, but he keeps staring out the window.
'What's wrong? Was he expecting a different reaction?'
Still, Chrissy's thrilled with the gift. Even if she can't wear it to school, it'll be nice to have at home and maybe for their baby campaign. If they go through with it, that is. "This will be really comfy to sleep in."
He pinches the bridge of his nose. "...Great. Glad you like it."
"Okay, I'll see you later. Thanks for the ride." Not wanting to annoy him, she grabs her things and hops out. His mood changed. It's not clear why, but she doesn't want to make it worse.
Walking to the front door, she stops to glance back. He's looking now. Possibly waiting for her to go inside. Just like someone else. That might be the only thing the two have in common. She waves just to confirm something and sighs in relief when it's returned.
'Thank goodness…'
"Jesus Christ!" Eddie leans against the steering wheel, raking his fingers down his face. Why does he have to act like a complete moron? Drowning in Mountain Dew, almost driving off the side of the road, and clamming up at the end… If it was possible, he'd drag his own ass out of the van and beat the hell out of it. Maybe even run himself over.
"This will be really comfy to sleep in."
'Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Shit… Chrissy's gonna be the death of me.'
Her little behind already went inside and yet here he is, still parked in the driveway. Needing a few minutes to get it together. This is always the worst part of their interactions. The moment she's gone, he reflects on all the dumb shit he said and did. Not that it changes anything.
'Is she gonna be okay? No one's even home.'
"Hey lover boy, are we going to sit here all night?"
"F—Shit!" He shouts, clutching the front of his denim vest when a head with curly hair pops out from the back. That stupid cap and smug grin. "What the hell are you doing here, Henderson?!" No fucking way. Annoyance and a twinge of embarrassment wash over him at the realization that one of his little sheep just watched him make a fool out of himself. This day just keeps getting better…
"Apparently, someone forgot they offered to take me home since my tire's got a hole in it."
"Oh, yeah." Dammit. That's right. He also said he'd fix it for him. Can't let one of his boy's modes of transportation stay all screwed up. "Then why are you hiding in the back?"
"I was going to pop out when you stopped, but Chrissy hopped in and… Well, let's just say it didn't seem like such a great plan anymore." Dustin grunts, crawling over the back of the bench seat and dropping into the spot that was previously occupied. Without hesitation, he reaches over to mess with the volume. Turning up the radio to listen to the music yet keeping it low enough to hear each other. Most would get their hand slapped for that. But the kid's different. He gets a pass.
"Oh, so you're cool with scaring me but not her, huh?" Crossing his arms, Eddie eyes the freshman and curls his lips up. Of course. Screw only him.
"You bet. I'd feel bad doing that to her."
"As you should, punk." He starts the van up and finally backs out of the driveway, giving that stupidly big house one last look-over. Can't stay here all night. If something happens, at least Chrissy has his number now.
'Even if some shit goes down, she probably wouldn't call anyway. Another punk.'
"So, you and the head cheerleader?" There it is. It was only a matter of time before one of them plopped that question right onto his lap. Especially after the session tonight. Honestly, no one saying a word about it would've been nuttier. "Even spending Valentine's Day together. I never would've seen that coming. Not in a million years."
"C'mon, man." The kid just has to say it like that... Yeah, he already knows. The Queen of Hawkins High and the town freak. Super fucking wild. Got it. "It's not like that. We're just friends."
And the whole Valentine's Day thing isn't a big deal. It's doubtful Chrissy even remembered or cares what day it is. Whatever happened probably shook the thought right out of her. He'd be more concerned if it actually was a priority, despite all that.
Still, Eddie wasn't going to say a damn thing about it. He could hear Jason and the basketball douches talking in the cafeteria and hallway the last few days. It would've been simple to bring up what day it was in front of her. Just a little reminder. Like when she asked to come and he agreed, knowing full well there were plans for the same time frame. Maybe that might've helped take the cheer captain's mind off the mess. She could try to focus on spending time with her boyfriend.
Nah. Fuck that.
Does he feel bad for ruining another man's plans for a big date night with his girlfriend? Hell no. And he'd do it again, too. Countless times, if given the chance. Aside from them both being captains of their teams and the kids of some uptight folks, those two make no sense. Maybe at first glance, but for more than a few moments? Nope. Can't build a house on a weak foundation. Once the storm hits, it'll collapse. And right now, one-half doesn't even seem to notice it's raining.
"Bullshit. You think I'm stupid? Me? And the whole 'oh, we just had an extra one lying around' thing? Real smooth, man. You know, a little honesty goes a long way."
"Okay, okay. Just drop it." He doesn't want to talk about this. It's already got him feeling some type of way.
"Sure thing, Dungeon Master." Dustin's smile goes ear-to-ear as he repeats Chrissy's words from earlier, rolling his tongue more than necessary. No way in hell is he going to let this brat ruin that for him.
"Keep it up. I'll tie you to the bumper and drag your ass home."
Tossing the cheer top onto the floor, Chrissy stands in front of the long mirror and studies herself. Slowly, she strips the rest of the garments off. Leaving nothing behind. Bra and panties kicked off to the side. A rare event. They normally stay on, so it's not too overwhelming. It's been almost two weeks since the last time she's done this. Might be a new record.
Slim fingers poke and tug at different spots, checking if it matches what's in the reflection. Something's always been wrong with her eyes. Ever since she was little. That became apparent right before middle school. What she visualizes, the mirror shows, and what other people see almost never lines up. Is what's happening to her now an extension of that?
Staring at the girl just a few feet away, a myriad of emotions and thoughts rise up to the surface. Gross. Too skinny. Plain. Inadequate. Short. Not womanly enough. Boring. It makes her frustrated, distressed, and gloomy. Why can't she have a body like Charlotte or Amber? They're beautiful. Nice hips, a round butt, thin waist, and decent size boobs. Looking at her own, she can't help feeling disappointed.
'Captain of the cheerleading team? More like captain of the itty bitty titty committee.'
"Ugh…" No. Thinking like that helps nothing. It's only making things worse. The more she stares at herself and insults the reflection, the more likely a full-blown relapse will happen. It's already starting. Skipping meals is how it begins, and it only escalates from there. If she doesn't eat right, that'll make her skinnier and even less attractive.
'Attractive to who?'
The million-dollar question. Chrissy freezes and mulls it over. All these years, she didn't want to stop and question who this is all really for. It was always based on her mom's ideal version of herself, but that was never attainable to begin with. That's an impossible standard no human can achieve. Just who or what is she trying to become?
No amount of weight change will ever satisfy her. It's the sad truth. Gazing at her own form, she realizes it couldn't end there. It wasn't going to. A little voice always whispers that maybe if she just got rid of a few more pounds, everything would finally look right. Later, it was only if her hips were just a bit wider. Or breasts a little bigger. There is no pleasing this monster lurking inside. It won't stop until she's dead and gone.
'I can't become someone else.'
That's what it comes down to. It's not that anything needs to be fixed. Spending so long being told every single thing is wrong turned her into a self-loathing shadow of a person. If she could just stop being this disgustingly flawed girl, then maybe happiness will find its way to her. What a joke.
Images of that creature hanging over the toilet flood her mind. Is that what she'll become if the monster has its way? Just skin and bones with no life left in it? There has to be a reason that occurred. A warning? Or something just trying to torment her? Is there a way of making any sense of this?
"Oh, no… " A lump forms in her throat as she crouches down on the carpet. It's all coming back. The terror and anguish of being hunted down like an animal. And by things far beyond her comprehension. This is exactly what she was afraid of happening when hopping out of the van. Being left all alone in this house with nothing but her thoughts and worries.
Tears prick her eyes as the trembling starts all over again. This time, there's no one here to say it's going to be okay or make her feel safe. Spending time with Eddie, then the Hellfire Club, helped the cheerleader put that aside for a few hours. It allowed her to focus on anything else but that. She even relaxed and laughed for a while. Genuinely enjoyed their company, bickering and all.
There's really no running away, huh?
"Some things don't always have an explanation. Not right away. But we can try to figure it out, yeah? Then kick the shit out of it."
A part of her wants to tell him so badly. Explain all the terrible things that have been happening these last few weeks. The headaches, loss of appetite and sleep, nightmares, hallucinations… If anyone might understand, it's probably Eddie. Maybe they could figure this out together and find a solution? But saying it aloud makes it too real. And what if he doesn't? What if he thinks she's a lunatic and backs off? Hasn't she already put enough on him as it is?
That's not fair. The guy has his own issues to deal with without adding on more. He's a friend who just started hanging out with her recently. It's not like they're dating or anything. She already has a boyfriend. That should be the person she confides in and gets comfort from. Not putting this on someone who gets nothing in return.
'I could never tell Jason any of this. I'm the worst. What am I even doing? Get it together!'
She sniffles and wipes the tears away with the back of her hand, standing up. This is pitiful. Her own weakness probably caused this. The hallucinations are all things that she's terrified of. Her mom, spiders, relapsing, being alone, losing herself… If she can conquer them, they can't torment her anymore, right? So, the only option is to take one at a time and work on it.
"You're first." Grabbing the mirror, Chrissy drags it across the carpet toward the closet. It can go in the back. Turned around, so she can't see it. Behind all the dresses and shoes. The vanity is good enough for makeup, hair, and a quick glance over to make sure she looks presentable. It's not tall enough to stare at her entire figure for hours on end.
"And you can stay in there, asshole!" Shutting the closet loudly, she quickly covers her mouth, realizing what just came out. That's right… No one's here. There won't be any repercussions for cursing loudly. She can do it to her heart's content. Yell every obscenity at the top of her lungs and nothing will happen.
'That's a bad habit to pick up. Eddie's rubbing off on me in weird ways.'
Thinking about him has a calming effect. It's easier to push away the scary things if she focuses on the Hellfire leader hard enough. How would he handle any of this? She wants to imagine he'd flip the creature off and give it a swift kick. Tell that creepy voice to go eff itself. That helps it seem a little less frightening.
She can do this. There's no other choice. It's that or completely fall apart. Shatter into a million pieces. Even if it means pretending nothing happened, she has to get through it. Whatever it takes. Throwing in the towel isn't an option.
Walking over to the bed, Chrissy eyes the shirt sitting on top of the duvet. The Hellfire Club shirt Eddie gave her… She slips it on and grabs a pair of shorts from a drawer. This will do. Next is snatching up a pillow and the covers, and the cheer captain drags them with her out of the room. Heading down the steps, she makes a beeline for the den.
The thought of sleeping in that bedroom all alone right now creeps her out too much. It's too darn quiet throughout the house. That needs to change. She sets up a little area for herself on the couch in the den, where there's a TV. The noise is comforting. Makes it feel like the house has a little more life in it than it actually does.
Lying across the cushions and crawling under the duvet, she grabs the clunky remote off the end table to turn on the TV. Hopefully, something good is on. Flipping through the channels, there's just a bunch of infomercials or older movies. Nothing that really piques her interest.
"Ah!" Chrissy's eyes light up seeing some familiar faces. This is the show they watched at Eddie's. Golden Girls. A grin spreads across her face as she puts the remote down and settles in. Jackpot. Having this on will definitely brighten the mood.
'I wish I had the guts to ask him.'
She was so close to inviting Eddie to come in. Maybe even stay over. That's probably extremely wrong since she has a boyfriend and he's a guy. It might've made him uncomfortable, too. He's been inconvenienced enough for one day.
Sighing, she tries to swallow down the small bit of fear left lingering behind and tries to focus on the show. Her mind wanders elsewhere. Like how the club shirt is really soft. It even smells like him, too. Hints of cigarette smoke and a warm, spicy scent. What is that from? Cologne? A musky, rich one that reminds her of a summer night.
"Mmm…" Pulling her arms inside the shirt, Chrissy wraps them around herself and gets into a cozy position. This is better. Maybe she'll be able to sleep in peace.
"It's gonna be okay, Chrissy."
'I hope so.'
"Have you lost your mind?!" the older woman shouts from the doorway. She's livid. Yep. Chrissy's really done it this time. "What are you thinking? I didn't raise you like this… Where's your father? I know he'll want to have a talk with you as well."
"How should I know? No one tells me anything. He's probably lounging at some resort. And maybe I am losing my mind! That wouldn't be surprising after living with the two of you." Anyone probably would. Not that her mom cares. As long as she can hide it from others, then it doesn't matter.
"You're getting too mouthy for your own good." So far, she hasn't come into the room itself up to this point. Maybe that made Chrissy feel a little bold. Gutsier. But hearing that angry tone shakes her resolve. "You're going to be sorry!"
"Hey," The familiar voice startles the cheer captain, almost causing her to slip off the edge of the bed. Two hands come from behind and cover her eyes, blocking the view of her mother at the door. "It's okay. Just take a deep breath, then tell her to shove it."
"What?!" Is he crazy? Maybe someone like him could get away with that, but not her.
"This is what I'm talking about! What is wrong with you, Chrissy? You'll ruin everything! Stay away from that boy. I didn't spend all that time with the Carvers just for you to throw it all away! That miscreant will take advantage of you and leave nothing but a mess behind for the rest of us to clean up. By then, no one will want you. Including Jason. He has a limit, just like everyone else."
"Do you really want to listen to that bullshit? She's only worried about herself. How it'll look to others. I mean, what will happen if people see the Cunningham's precious daughter with a dirtbag like me? Heheh… The world might end." Eddie chuckles, keeping his hands in place. Shielding her from seeing the person she's most afraid of. They're really warm, except for the cool metal rings pressed against her skin.
"No." She doesn't want to hear it. And he's right. The only part that's off the mark is him being a dirtbag. That's not the case at all.
"Get away from that boy. Right. NOW!"
"Shove it, mom!" Chrissy winces, trying to snuff out the dread coiling inside her stomach. She listens and waits to get yelled at, but nothing happens. The hands pull away and no one's there. Her mom's gone. "It worked? That's all it took?"
"Told you." He moves from behind and plops down on the edge of the bed beside her. There's that shit-eating grin again… And she likes it, even if he's relishing being right. That's okay. "Isn't that much better?"
"Yeah…" She tilts her chin down and smiles, feeling a little embarrassed. That was so simple. Why didn't she just do that earlier? It would've saved her so much trouble. Maybe him being here makes her more daring.
'I want him to stay with me.'
"I will." His answer stuns her. Can he read minds or something? "You might as well be an open book to me. I see everything."
That's probably true… Something inside agrees with that statement. At some point, she started forgetting to slip the mask back on. Maybe it was that first time in the stairwell. Part of her knew it was pointless. He practically said as much after asking if she was okay in the hallway while waiting on a ride.
"Sure you are, Cunningham."
Chrissy stares at him long and hard. She feels conflicted. What's the real issue here? Just what is she expecting? Having to hide their budding friendship sucks. She doesn't enjoy walking past him in the halls and trying to control herself. They give each other a knowing look and keep going. Maybe a smirk, but that's usually on his end.
Her reputation isn't the problem. Sure, people will talk. Perhaps say stuff that isn't so nice. That would hurt, yet she'd survive. There are a lot worse things than gossip or insults. It's what might happen to Eddie that keeps her in check. Jason wouldn't accept it. Not him or his ego. He's usually good but sometimes makes poor decisions. More so if the team eggs it on or something is hurting his image. And Andy certainly brings out his uglier side. She doesn't think they would hesitate to start trouble with the Hellfire guys. They might not be close, but if any of them got hurt because of her…
'What should I do? Maybe pushing him away is for the best, not that I want to do that.'
"Stop that." Eddie bites out. "I might like playing games, but not that kind. Stop worrying over every little thing. I'm a big boy that knew what might happen when I walked into this. You got some wires crossed. Between us, I'm not the one who needs someone to look after them."
Is it okay to be a little selfish? But Chrissy's still not sure what she's expecting out of this. He's been a great friend in the short time they reconnected. Better than she could've possibly expected.
"You still don't get it, huh?" She freezes when his hand closes over hers against the duvet. Glancing down, the room seems stuffier than it did just a moment ago. How different. His fingers are so much longer than her own. What is this? She feels strange.
"Let me spell it out for you." Blue eyes widen when he leans in, but she can't find the will to move. Does she even want to? Her mind is all scrambled as he gets closer, only a few inches left between them. Pushing him away is the right thing to do. She should pull her hand out from under his and take off.
That's not what happens. A shiver runs through the cheerleader's body from the warm breath washing over her skin. Eddie's too close now. Staying perfectly still, she lets out a shaky sigh in anticipation. His lips gently brush against hers, almost in a teasing way. Like he's trying to goad her into making the full leap.
"I knew it." With a loud gasp, she pulls away and looks at the door. Jason… He's beyond furious. His eyes are wide and rimmed with redness, full of unbridled rage. A hand's held out with something in its grasp. Chrissy jolts, jumping back against the bed when she sees the handgun. "You cheating whore!"
"No, I—"
"Don't give me that crap, Chrissy. You're caught red-handed. And with this freak? How could you?! After all this time? You're just going to throw everything away for a mutt? Our relationship? Our future? What about all our plans?" His lips pull back as he bares his teeth, clenching them tightly.
She's terrified. A hand encloses hers again. Jason hisses, raising the gun higher and pulling the hammer back. It makes a clicking sound as he aims at them, shaking yet full of resolve.
"W–Wait!"
…..
"Ahh!" Chrissy's face smacks against the carpet after falling off the couch. Panting, her wide eyes stare at the thick fibers just inches away. She's covered in a cold sweat, her heart still racing from an adrenaline rush.
'What an awful dream!'
Thank goodness that's all it was. A really weird, bad dream. She groans and rolls over, pushing her arms through the sleeves of the club shirt. That really sucked… Could've been worse, though. If the coffee table was still here, she would've bashed her face against that instead of the soft carpet.
Still, she's shaken up. That was too much. Sitting up on the floor, the cheer captain blinks a few times and rubs the sleep from her eyes. The TV's still on with a commercial for dish pads playing. Bright light peeks through the curtains, signaling it is morning already. It wasn't super late when coming in here last night…
Glancing at the small decorative clock on the mantle, seeing the time stuns her. 9:08. Did she really sleep that long? How crazy. And to not wake up even once? Nightmare aside, that's probably the most rest she's gotten since staying over at Eddie's.
"Wow." Chrissy stretches out along the carpet, listening to the little cracks her joints make. It's Saturday morning. There's nothing going on and no obligations to fulfill. But she has a few things in mind. Today can be a self-care day. After what happened yesterday and last night, something became painfully clear. She needs to start being a little kinder to herself. If these weird issues stem from insecurities and deep fears, then that has to get fixed or nothing will change.
If they persist even after all that, then she'll have no choice but to get help.
'I'll make breakfast, go on a jog, then take a shower. After that, who knows?'
It's a good first step in the right direction. Maybe, somehow, some way… Chrissy can learn to like herself. Or at least be content with who she is. Other people seem to enjoy being around her. There must be something they're seeing that she's just missing out on.
"Okay!" Smacking her cheeks, she hops up and pads across the carpet, heading towards the kitchen. No more missing meals. Nope. Can't happen, even if it's just eating something small. Like scrambled eggs and toast. That's what she'll make. It's light and not too much. Maybe have a glass of orange juice with it.
Preparing it doesn't take long. Pretty quick. Despite having issues with food overall, she's always had a knack for making it. Watching her mom as a kid made that easier. It was just something she picked up easily.
The moment she sits at the kitchen bar and takes a bite, the doorbell rings. Once. Twice. Three times. All in rapid succession. It doesn't stop. Just keeps going until she slams her fork down and slides off the stool. Who the heck would come here this early? And they don't need to keep pressing the button… Anyone can hear it the first half a dozen times.
"Hold on!" Chrissy yells from down the hall. It takes time to get to the door, and that sound is getting on her nerves. They're lucky her dad's not home. He would've had a conniption if they did that while he was here. Walking into the foyer and to the front door, she gets up on her toes to look out the peephole. No way is she opening that without knowing who it is, especially being alone.
'Oh, crap! It's Jason!'
"J–Just a minute!" Panic sets in as she slaps a hand against her forehead and spins around. There's no way she can answer the door with this shirt on. The Hellfire Club shirt… All hell will break loose. Thankfully, her cheer jacket's hanging on the hook by the entrance. She tosses it on and zips it up as far as it'll go, pulling the hood over her messy hair.
Taking a deep breath, the cheer captain unlocks the door and opens it only a few inches, just enough to look at him. "Hey, Jason." She doesn't sound as enthusiastic as usual. Similar to how he doesn't seem pleased, like normal. Her eyes watch him hesitantly, noticing his hands are behind his back. After that dream, she's still a little freaked out.
"Hey, Chris. So… What happened yesterday?" Jason gives her a strange look, leaning back to glance through the door. Maybe to see if her dad's around. He still doesn't know, and she has no intentions of changing that.
'What's he talking about? Cheer practice?'
"Did you forget? Yesterday was Valentine's Day?" His brow furrows and she just barely notices the muscles along his jaw tensing.
'Oh my God! I totally forgot!
That was the last thing on her mind last night. So far out of the ballpark, it didn't even come up. There was no way they were going on a date. Not with what she was going through. And he doesn't have a single clue. That's not his fault, though. She struggles to control her facial expression and put together something passable, trying to keep a lid on the guilt bubbling up.
"I'm so sorry! Yesterday was no good. I got really sick and spent a few periods in the nurse's office. She thinks it's a stomach virus. My dad has it too. He's been in the bathroom all morning." At that, Jason takes a subtle step back, but she sees it. Probably afraid of catching something. "I should've called you or told someone. I was just... kind of embarrassed. Sorry."
"Oh. Yeah, okay. That makes sense." He slowly nods while staring at her, taking it all in. It's not entirely wrong. A portion of the day was spent in the nurse's office. But didn't he notice she wasn't in lunch or some of their classes? A small smirk forms on his face that she finds kind of offputting. For some reason, he seems genuinely relieved. "Sorry to hear you're sick. I thought you bailed on our plans."
"Really?"
"I know. How stupid of me. We've been together for a while. I know you better than that… It shouldn't have even crossed my mind." She flinches when he whips his hand out from behind, holding something out to her. A bouquet of red roses. "These were for yesterday but better late than never, right? Beautiful roses for my beautiful girl."
Chrissy smiles and gently takes them from him through the crack in the door. They sure are pretty. She brings them closer to smell. "Thank you. These are wonderful. I'll put them in a vase."
"Sounds good. So, I was wondering… Your birthday is next weekend, and you said before it didn't matter what we do. My parents and I were talking and thought maybe we could have the party at our house. You know, invite everyone over and do something small. They haven't seen you in a while… It'd be a good chance to get the family together. Obviously, your dad would be welcome, too—"
She stares at him while he keeps going, her lips parting in surprise. From the sounds of it, the Carvers already have everything figured out… What they want to do, who they want to invite, how they're going to do it. All for her eighteenth birthday next Saturday. It's true she had nothing in mind for the occasion. But to have this suddenly dumped on her is overwhelming, especially with barely a week's notice.
"S–Sure." The answer just springs out. After unintentionally ditching him on Valentine's Day, she feels too guilty to turn this down. It's the least she can do to make up for her indiscretions.
"Great! I'll let them know. My mom will take care of everything, so you just need to look pretty and show up." He winks and her mouth goes dry. "Feel better. I'll catch you later, babe." With a quick smile, he turns around and jogs back to the Jeep. They usually kiss each other goodbye, but… she's sick.
Chrissy watches as he takes off, too stunned to know what to think. She closes the door, then numbly walks through the house back to the kitchen. Holding onto the bouquet tightly. It gets tossed onto the counter for later as she gets back on the stool, staring straight ahead. Breakfast is probably cold now.
'What the heck was that?'
Aside from the obvious birthday party surprise, something isn't sitting well with her. Not at all. Her boyfriend… Jason… Was relieved she was horribly sick with a stomach virus. That was better than the possibility she might've forgotten about Valentine's Day… or worse, stood him up.
'But I lied to him. Maybe we're both awful. I guess we deserve each other.'
"Alright, sweetheart. Let's tuck you in." Eddie snorts, hanging his beloved back up on the wall. He kisses his fingers and rubs them along the strings one last time. She's gotten more than enough gentle caresses and sweet nothings whispered to her for one night. So spoiled… Still, it was about time he give her a new set and some fine-tuning. Sounds good as new now.
After being together for so long, he can tell when anything is even a little off. With time, the tone and intonation will change from normal wear and usage. That's inevitable from all the stress, strain, dirt, sweat, and everything else that builds up and causes the strings to become uneven at certain points. It'll sound a pinch duller to his sharp ears and eventually, down the road, become more difficult to play if left that way. Then they're more likely to break. Constant tuning can cause that to happen, too. Jeff learned that the hard way, despite his warnings.
Walking over to his record set, he flips through them to pick something out to listen to. There's already one in mind. Motörhead's Ace of Spades. Can't ever go wrong with that album. As the music fills the room, he sits on the edge of the bed, not sure what to do with himself now.
"Dammit…" There's a pile of homework that needs to get done. Maybe it's time to suck it the hell up and bite the bullet. His grades look like shit, but there's still a chance of passing. This is his last shot. No more do-overs. If he can't walk the stage this time, they're kicking him out and a high school diploma will forever be out of reach. There's an age limit to attending public school. One more go around and he'll run face-first right into it.
'Nope. Not happening. I'm getting it done this time.'
Eddie can feel it. This is going to be his year. The one where all the magic happens. If he can just manage to get a D in O'Donnell's, that diploma's as good as his. Her final coming up is the last battlefield to get through. Surviving means victory. And Hellfire has some great fresh meat in it now, especially Henderson. Those kids are the future of the club. He knew it the moment he saw those dorks sitting by themselves at lunch. Then, his band… Corroded Coffin. There's only one direction to go, and it's up. All the pieces are falling into place.
Flipping open the world history textbook, he stares at the first question on the worksheet stuffed in there for what feels like forever. Reading it over and over again. Yeah… That's going to be a hard pass. He slams it shut and tosses it on the floor. Maybe later. There's too much energy coursing through him to sit quietly and focus on something so damn boring. That's what the teachers just don't understand. Shit needs to catch his interest for him to spend time on or it's like an unbearable chore to get through. Then they wonder why he fidgets and needs to move around so much. It's not simply about being stupid, lazy, or lacking self-control as they seem to think.
"I'm young and I like the night. And I can make you feel all right... I've been around for quite a while. And I've learned now how to make you smile…"
Flopping down on the floor, he leans his back up against the mattress and pulls out a few things from underneath. Bopping his head and feet along to the music. This is something he doesn't mind putting some energy into. He reaches up to snatch the ashtray, pack, and lighter off the bedside table. It helps take the edge off. Smoking and drawing while listening to an album.
The pages of the sketchbook are chock-full of different images. Some with random doodles or half-assed scribbles made with little to no thought behind them. And others are more serious works. Time-consuming ones he put a lot of effort into. Flipping through the sheets, his eyes gloss over all the art he's recently made. Monsters, weapons, random words, characters, entire scenes… A few even make him laugh. There are plenty that still need to be finished.
Snatching up the charcoal pencil, Eddie pokes at his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, already knowing which one gets the honor of reaching completion next. The piece he's been working on as of late ended up becoming a double spread. It might just be his best work… Gazing down at the pages, a small part of him knows he should probably feel embarrassed, but no one's going to see it anyway. These are for his eyes alone.
Whatever.
There's nothing wrong with being a little shameless and self-indulgent. That comes with the territory. Lighting a cigarette, he lets it hang from the corner of his mouth and takes a long drag, picking up where he left off last time. Shading and filling in the bottom of his character's billowy dress. It hangs loose on the woman's lithe form, leaving her shoulders exposed and flowing around her, mid-spin.
"What'll I call you?" Sometimes he'll put a title for a piece up in the corner or just keep it to himself. That's if he gives it one at all. It's almost done. Ashing his cigarette, the Hellfire leader studies the drawing carefully. This turned out pretty good so far.
A sketch of a woman dancing in a forest clearing at night. She looks blissful as her bare feet step over the grass and flowers all over the ground. An ethereal being with long wavy hair and small, pointed ears, giving away the fact that she's not a simple human. The moon's out and shining down brightly on the spot. Casting a glow through the trees surrounding the open area. Little faeries and fireflies fill the air, joining in on the fantasy party while staying close to their queen.
'Titania? Maybe… Titania, Queen of the Faeries. Or is she Elven? Can't decide.'
The mystical character's face and figure are too familiar. Yep, he's a pretty shameless guy. At least this one is tasteful… A thought jumps out at him. Moving up the page, he starts outlining a swarm of bats in the sky. That's what it was missing. He couldn't put his finger on it last time, but this is it. The scene was too light and dreamy. Needed a little darkness added to the mix for some contrast.
'Heh. Aren't you beautiful?'
"Surprised to see ya here on a Saturday night." Glancing up, Eddie sees his uncle leaning against the door frame. He must've just got back from hanging out with the other old heads at the bar. Even though they keep calling it a pub. Those are not the same, but whatever floats his boat.
"I know. Real shocker."
"Ya want some pizza rolls?" Wayne's got his flannel shirt all the way unbuttoned, showing the white tee underneath. Probably hot from drinking a bunch of beers. It's not often he lets go for a bit. Good for him.
"Uh… Sure." Might as well if they're warmed up, anyway. He's not one to say no to food. There's always room in the inn. "Hey, if the phone rings, can you let me know instead of just hanging up right away or taking it off the hook?"
"Oh, you're expecting a call, huh?" The older man chuckles and pushes off the door frame to go into the kitchen. Not like they can't hear each other from that distance. It's pretty close. "Yeah, sure. I only do that 'cause them damn collectors and salesmen don't know when to quit. Wish your dad didn't have to go givin' this number out."
"...Thanks." Eddie sighs at that. His old man always was a pain. Of course he'd rather push debt collectors onto someone else. That was forever ago, but they still have the same phone number. Too bad. No one's coughing up any money for that bullshit.
"Ya know how Johnny's boy's been missin'?" Yeah, he does. Every time Wayne puts the news on, they replay the same segment with a tip line number. Same crap for the last week and a half or however long it's been. "At the pub, Charlie said he saw some suits sniffin' around at the Gibson farm over a week ago. Don't know why folks from the government have any interest in a missing person case from a small town like ours."
'Dogs.'
He arches a brow while putting some finishing touches on his piece. If there's one thing this family isn't a fan of, it's the Man and their suits. Nothing but trouble. They just walk all over the little guy and think they can do anything their rotten hearts feel like.
"That got me thinkin'. Something's stinking up a storm. Not putting my nose where it don't belong, though. I'm just havin' a hard time imagining Danny getting into some kinda trouble. Might not be the case. Maybe they got a lead and it's someone involved they're interested in. Bad things happen to good people all the time."
"You can say that again." Eddie can think of a few right off the top of his head. Like Chrissy…
"Here." His uncle shuffles back into the bedroom with a plate in his hands. "Let me know if ya want some more." He nods and thanks him, flipping the sketchbook over so Wayne can't see what he's doing. "And you be careful, 'kay? Don't need you gettin' mixed up in whatever's going on."
"Gotcha."
Chrissy hums happily as she leans back against the leather seat, enjoying the sun's warmth on her skin and the open air. Two hands play with the strawberry blonde ponytail hanging over the headrest from behind. It's relaxing. They should do this more often.
"You have such nice hair. I'm so jealous." Natalie says, running her fingers through the wavy strands. She seems to be enjoying herself, too.
"Don't be! I'd love to have your red hair. It's beautiful." The cheer captain glances at her in the side mirror. It's true. If they could trade, she'd do it in a heartbeat. The compliment causes the girl's face to flush, and she shifts in the back, trying to get out of view without letting go.
'Silly…'
The basketball team is having a practice session today, even though it's Tuesday. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday are usually when both teams stay after. This next game is against a school they always lose to. Year after year with no luck. Jason isn't taking any chances, even if the Tigers are on a winning streak.
That's okay. This just gave her an opportunity to spend some time with others. He usually insists on being her ride to and from school, but she's not waiting around for hours. No way. Charlotte was more than happy to step in as a substitute for today. And it's been a while since they all rode around in the convertible. The light cream-colored '83 Buick Riviera she got for her sweet sixteen about two years ago.
It's been a lot of fun. Singing along to songs on the radio, talking about boyfriends, and driving aimlessly around town. This almost makes Chrissy feel like a normal senior in high school. There's no one expecting her to be home soon or any responsibilities to take care of. Right now, she's free as a bird.
If there's one thing to be truly grateful for, it's that Natalie can keep stuff just between them. She didn't go around telling people what happened on Friday. Hearing that Eddie 'the freak' Munson stole the head cheerleader's bookbag could've turned into juicy gossip for some. Or started a fight, depending on who's listening and how it's spun.
Yesterday, the junior asked about it, wanting to make sure no misdeeds occurred and if so, there be punishment. Whatever that looks like… She just said that he was in the nurse's office at the same time and offered to get it for her. Nothing crazy. And after a few confused questions—like why would the Hellfire leader do something nice for anyone—that was that.
"Jeez, my thighs are really killing me!" Charlotte whines loudly, taking a hand off the steering wheel to rub one of them. The other two feel it as well. Cheerleading can really take a toll. It's not just doing the routines themselves. They also work out in the weight room and run the track during some practices to stay in shape to make sure the moves look as good as possible. "I need John to give me a massage. A very thorough one, if you know what I mean." She laughs and glances over, already knowing what reaction her words will elicit.
"That might make you sorer."
Chrissy tries to ignore what they're saying and keeps her face in check. Getting rattled will only egg them on and it'll get worse. Well, mostly Charlotte. If there's a chance to maneuver the conversation toward anything sexy, she'll take it. The brunette has become quite adventurous this last year, especially since she started dating her current boyfriend.
It's not her favorite direction. She gets flustered pretty easily over that, and some of the other cheerleaders think it's cute. When it's just the girls together, sometimes the discussions and questions become uncomfortable. Most are pretty open with one another about private stuff. Probably similar to the way guys are with their locker room talk. And from time to time, it eventually points in her direction.
Did she have sex with Jason yet? Why not? Haven't they been going out for a while? What about little things? Like foreplay? Why doesn't she want to talk about it? Is he big? Small? What's she waiting for? Is this some church thing? Are they waiting for marriage? Is she scared? Doesn't she know he has needs and if they're not fulfilled, he might look elsewhere?
As if all of that hasn't weighed on her mind… The pressure's been on for a while now. And it's not like she doesn't think about it. Chrissy might've gone through a lot these last few years, but she's not dead. There's warm blood rushing through her body, just like theirs. In the sevenish months since they started officially dating, it never felt like the right moment.
And to be honest, a part of her is glad about that.
"Hey! Hey, hey, hey…" A small tug on her ponytail brings the cheer captain back to the present. She turns in the seat to look Natalie in the face. "Did you hear what I was saying, Chris?"
"Sorry. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night, so I kind of zoned out." Chrissy looks at her friend apologetically. It's partially the truth.
"Well, speaking of which… We were talking about having a sleepover party at my place. Not this weekend, since it's your birthday, but the next. Just the chicks on the cheer team. It's been a while and this is our last year, so I thought… You know…"
"Yeah! That'll be fun. The rest of us only have you seniors around for a little longer, so might as well make the most of it. We can watch movies, stuff our faces, paint our nails, and whatever." The redhead smiles widely, hanging off the seat in front of her. Right behind her captain. "What do you think?"
"I'm game." Why not? They're right. There are only a few months left until graduation and everyone goes their separate ways. And it's been a long time since she's done anything like this.
'Dad should be back right before that. He'll just have to deal with it.'
"I still can't believe you're having your party at Jason's… And with his parents there." Charlotte tsk's, shaking her head. "This is the big one. We should throw down and get messy. That won't happen with them there. Are you sure about this? Like, I could set one up that you'll never forget. You know how my parents are. Just give me the word and it's done."
"Thanks. I appreciate the offer, but I already told them I would. After screwing up Valentine's Day, I kind of feel like I need to make it up to him. He seems excited about it, too. Really wants to do it for some reason." It wouldn't be surprising to find out his parents intend to turn it into some sort of social event. They don't even know her dad's not around.
Here's the thing, though. If the party's at the Carver's house with his parents there, the chances of her getting pressured into doing something she really doesn't want to do is a lot lower. Small talk, shaking hands, eating small amounts, and smiling are relatively easy. She's done them countless times. If they have it at Charlotte's or a place where there are no real limits, then things will probably get out of hand.
'I already have an idea of what will happen. They'll want me to get drunk and have fun. Jason wants to score. The first part can easily lead into the second if I'm messed up. And none of them would see a problem with it since we're dating…'
"It's always something."
Sometimes, Chrissy wonders if it's better to just get it over with. Suck it up, grit her teeth, and lay there until it's done. Everyone can shut up about it, then. No more embarrassing questions or assumptions. She won't have to feel guilty anymore like she's been depriving him of something essential.
It can't be that bad. Maybe she'll even enjoy it? Unless there's something really wrong with her? After dating this long, shouldn't it be natural to have sex with a partner? They've known each other for years. Jason's a good-looking guy. Athletic, smart, has a good future ahead of him, a well-off family… And he treats her okay, for the most part. Could be a lot worse. There are plenty of girls who'd love to switch places with her, too.
'I don't know what to do…'
"Who gives a crap about what Jason wants?" She's taken aback by Natalie's tone. "It's your birthday, not his. And weren't you sick on Friday? Boo–fricken–hoo. Valentine's Day isn't that big of a deal. It'll come around again next year like it always does."
"And that's why you're single, Nat." Charlotte sighs, turning the radio back on.
"Like I care…" The redhead folds her arms and leans back against the seat, smacking her lips in annoyance. That's an area the two don't see eye-to-eye on. One loves everything about being in a relationship. The drama, passion, fighting, making up, ending them, starting one, etc. The other thinks it's mostly a waste of time and energy.
"Thanks." Chrissy mouths the word to her friend as the music gets louder, drowning out any potential arguments. They give each other a small smile before she turns back and relaxes, letting the stress melt off her shoulders.
Steam pours out of the bathroom as the door opens. Gripping the towel around her body tightly, Chrissy walks across the carpet and sighs. The clock says it's only 6:20. Charlotte dropped her off a few hours ago, but it seems so much longer than that.
'Maybe I should read a book?'
This is driving her up a wall. Each minute feels like twenty. At least. There's no homework left to do. Nothing good on TV. She already spent a good chunk of time after school hanging out with a few girlfriends. The house is just too quiet. Too empty. And taking a shower was just a way to kill some time. For what? When her head hits the pillow, it'll be nothing but nightmares or weird dreams.
She's completely restless.
"I can't stand this…" Jason's probably done practice by now or is close to finishing. Shouldn't a girlfriend want to be with her partner? They could spend some time together. Perhaps try to fix the gap that's ever-present in their relationship? The two have become more distant lately. That shouldn't be the case, especially since they're both at the same events. He's the star of the game while she cheers from the sidelines.
'No.'
That thought should startle her, yet it doesn't. She barely knows what he's up to half of the time. The team could be at Benny's, chugging down beers and partying. Doing it on a school night was never an issue for them. They do their own thing with no regard for anyone else.
Pulling out the chair at her vanity, Chrissy sits down and stares aimlessly at the wall. Part of her knows what she wants to do, even if it's wrong. She glances at the scrap of paper lying next to a brush on the top.
Eddie's number.
He did say to call if she needed anything… Was that him being nice? Or if something goes wrong? Wanting to hang out counts as anything, right? This really isn't that complicated. She's just being difficult. He probably wouldn't care. It's been four days since the last time they spoke. That feels like a lifetime right now.
'Today's Tuesday
Calling him might be useless. When they met up for that initial deal, he said his band plays on Tuesday nights. His uncle also works the late shift. There's probably no one home to answer anyway.
"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."
Just thinking about it has her heart racing. Is she that gutsy? What kind of place is The Hideout? That thought has popped up a few times since he mentioned it. Each image she conjures up is worse than the last. First, it was just a little place with a couple of older guys sitting on stools with beers. Then it devolved into a bar on fire with a bunch of cutthroats fighting and smashing bottles on each other's heads while Corroded Coffin plays in the background, relishing in the mayhem.
In reality, it's likely neither. Or maybe somewhere in between… Chrissy doesn't have a clue. She's never been to a bar or anything like that before. Tapping her nails against the hard surface, the idea is so tempting. How would he react if she just showed up?
'I want to see him.'
Biting her bottom lip, the cheer captain stares at the vanity and debates the matter. Getting there might be an issue. It's downtown. Hawkins is pretty small. She's gone past The Hideout a few times before on the way to a bookstore further down the street. Going inside a place is very different from seeing it in passing.
"Whatever. I'm doing it." Fighting herself on this is just wasting time. Time that can go to figuring out issues like a ride or getting ready. It's 6:32 and all she's working with is a flimsy towel. Flopping on her stomach across the bed, Chrissy reaches out and grabs the phone from the nightstand. At least she knows a few numbers by heart.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Charlotte. I know we just saw each other earlier and everything, so this is probably a little annoying, but I have a humongous favor to ask."
"Yeah? What's up?"
"I need a ride to Clemen's Bookstore. You know, that little place on Prospect?"
"What?! You want to go to a bookstore now? That's a pain in the butt. Just snag your dad's car or wait until tomorrow. It's not like this is an emergency."
"No way! Besides, I only have a permit. If something goes wrong, I'll be in big trouble. How about this… I'll make you a deal?"
"...I'm listening."
"You know that bag of mine that you really like? The light blue one? If you take me tonight before eight, it's all yours."
"Deal. I don't know what the rush is, but I'll do it on one condition. If anyone asks, it was never yours. Okay? I'll pick you up in about thirty."
The phone hangs up before she can give a response. Well, that's covered and they both benefit from it.
'Ah! I don't have a lot of time!'
Rushing around the room, Chrissy lets the towel fall to the floor as she tears through her closet and drawers. What do people who go to places like that actually wear? Is there anything in here that wouldn't make her stick out like a sore thumb?
Eddie goes there every week with his band, so probably a lot of dark clothes, denim, band t-shirts, and patches. Her wardrobe is full of dresses, pastels, trousers, joggers, skirts, sweaters, and just about nothing that won't draw attention. She doesn't want to distract him, either. Walking in with a bright yellow sundress on would do just that.
'Maybe it's dark in there?'
This is so frustrating. Not well thought out, either. Without knowing what to expect, something simple will have to do. She picks out a long-sleeved red shirt and a pair of jeans to tuck them into. That's pretty plain. Good. And a white headband to match her flats. There's no telling if she'll have to walk around, so pumps or heels are a no-go for now.
Sitting back down in front of the vanity, the cheerleader quickly brushes out her hair, deciding to leave it down. It'll look fine with the white band on top. Some shimmery, light brown eyeshadow and a little gloss, and she's ready.
'Charlotte will be here soon…'