"Okay, the bell is going to ring soon, so pass up your worksheets. Make sure your name's on them. I don't want to play a guess–and–check game like last time."

Ms. O'Donnell stands up and walks over to the first desk in the last row. She puts a hand on her hip while waiting as papers get shuffled from person to person, forming a pile. The older woman snatches them up from the first student, giving them a quick peek to make sure none are blank. If there is one like that, everyone already knows who it belongs to.

"Mmm…" Chrissy stretches her arms up high, groaning as a little crack comes from her stiff shoulders. After getting home so late, she didn't get much sleep. Even the little that came was awful. Another nightmare. This time, it was an enormous black spider chasing her around a huge yard that only seemed to get wider the further she ran. It was outside of an old, tall house that seemed abandoned. Not that she had time to get a good look at it…

Sometimes, it's hard to tell when they're just dreams. That shouldn't be the case and sounds silly. Spiders the size of a truck don't exist. And they certainly wouldn't be chasing teenagers around. The whole thing is ludicrous. Still, it feels real at the time. It's only when she wakes up in a cold sweat that reality sets in. And a nosebleed.

'I should go to a doctor. I'm sick of washing pillowcases. This isn't normal.'

The bell rings and everyone gets up to leave. The cheer captain takes her sweet time, slowly slipping her textbook into the pink bag on the back of the chair. Blue eyes dart from side to side, watching the people heading out of the classroom. Even the teacher walks out to talk to Mr. Calhoun across the hall since there's a short break in between classes. They do the same thing every day.

'Why isn't he going?'

For the first time in her high school career, Chrissy has a legit beef with someone. The plan was to wait until they walked by to confront them, but… This person is doing the same thing. Dawdling. Usually, he's the last one in and first one out on any given day. That's if he shows up at all. So, what's the big deal?

There are only two people left in the room now. Grabbing her bookbag, she slings it over her shoulders and starts walking. Slowly. Trying to see what he's doing without making it too obvious. Maybe it is. She doesn't even reach the door before he's on her heels.

Glancing up at him, they both give each other a knowing grin. He's got his denim vest back on but not the club shirt. This time, it's another band tee that has Megadeth on it with a weird-looking skull. "I have a bone to pick with you."

Eddie quirks a brow, yet doesn't seem surprised. "Oh, really?" There's amusement in his expression and voice. Something tells her that maybe he was expecting this.

"Yeah, I found fifteen dollars in my purse that wasn't there when I left." She knows exactly what was in there when Charlotte picked her up. And where this came from.

"Huh. Very curious." Long fingers rub along his chin as he leans up against the door frame. That makes her want to smack his chest again. Seeing the look she's giving him, his eyes widen in faux surprise. "What? Are you blaming me? "

"Eddie…" Chrissy tries to keep her voice down to not draw attention to them. That money was supposed to stay with him. She really didn't want it back. Hasn't he already done more than enough? This only makes her feel worse. It's the only thing of any worth she can offer him in return.

He pushes off the frame and takes a step closer, staring down at her. His face is more controlled, lacking the playfulness from a moment ago. "Look, princess. I take money. Not give it away." A few weeks ago, this might've terrified the cheerleader. Maybe even caused her to run down the hallway to find someone.

"Stop messing with me, you punk." Crossing her arms, she doesn't move but sucks in her bottom lip. He's just joking, right? If not, this is about to get really awkward. And she actually might just run down the hall anyway.

Cracks form in the mask as a crooked grin pokes out. He can't hold it in. "Okay, okay… You got me. But if I remember correctly, I said, 'I'll take this for now, but it's coming back around. Mark my words,' or some shit like that. Well, it came back around and I kept my word. Besides, it's not my fault you don't pay attention to your purse. Took me two seconds to slip it in at the diner."

'Unbelievable.'

"Hmph! Maybe I wasn't paying attention to it because I trusted the company I was with and didn't think I needed to keep an eye on my stuff."

Eddie cranes his neck back and makes a strange face. It's true, though. Even that first day they hung out together, she didn't feel the need to stay vigilant over her things. There was nothing that gave off the impression the Hellfire leader was a thief or something. And he offered a discount on the weed, despite knowing it would've been easy to bamboozle her. She didn't know any better… If this guy—who's probably pretty tricky—wanted to, he could take all kinds of stuff and she'd be none the wiser until much later.

Looking away, he lets out a sharp exhale as his expression softens. "Well… okay…" That answer must've thrown him off a bit. Normally, there's some kind of snarky response that's locked and loaded, ready to go.

"It's just that you already smoked with me a few times and paid for my food last night. Also, you've driven me around without getting any gas money. Your uncle also bought me breakfast. Now this? I don't know… It just makes me feel bad." Chrissy glances out the doorway to make sure no one's watching. It also makes it a little easier to say this without looking right at him.

"Chrissy, chill." A hand reaches out to clasp her chin, drawing the cheer captain's eyes and full attention back to him. Eddie sighs, yet he doesn't seem annoyed. "Relationships aren't supposed to be transactional. I mean, they can but only if that's understood. This isn't. Keeping tabs on who does what isn't a good way of lookin' at things."

"If one side's always giving and the other is constantly taking, then there's no balance." She whispers, trying to glance elsewhere. It's been weighing on her mind recently. The more he does, the more it bothers her, even if it's very much appreciated.

Leaning down so they're nose to nose, those dark eyes narrow in on her. "You're so lucky we're in school right now or I'd pinch those cheeks again." She sucks in her lips, blushing furiously. He's too close and saying things she didn't expect. At all. "And you're not constantly taking. But if it bothers you so much, then give me your time and a piece of your mind. That should bring balance to the force." Seeing the confusion on her face, he chuckles and shakes his head, backing off.

'What does that mean?'

She stands there as Eddie gives one last cocky smirk and slips out of the room, leaving her dumbfounded. Maybe it was just because he was only inches away, but her brain stalled out for a moment. Still no good. Grabbing onto the pink bookbag strap, she tries to shake it off and go out into the hall.

'What the heck does that mean?!'

Chrissy rubs her chin and mulls it over, moving between the groups of people without paying them any mind. Is he saying that she needs to hang out with him more… and complain? Open up? Is that what a piece of her mind means? And she isn't so sheltered as to not realize that was a nerd reference at the end. Star Trek? Star Wars? One of them.

'So he doesn't want money but my time and mind?'

Her face turns a bright shade of red as she reaches Mr. Girard's room.

At the lunch table, everyone's talking up a storm. Mostly about the away game after school today. The Tigers versus a team they've always lost to in the past. Looking down the row of people, it's just a sea of white, green, and orange from all the uniforms.

"They don't have a chance! Not with all the work we've put in." Jason smirks, slamming a fist on the table hard enough that it makes her jump. He's all stirred up, no thanks to the others getting him going. She sighs and languidly pokes at the food on her tray with a plastic fork. There's almost no point in saying anything. With the team so hyped, it's impossible to get a word in.

Charlotte wasn't too happy about not getting a call last night and let it be known in the lunch line. An honest mistake. It totally slipped her mind. But the brunette was more worried than angry. The only excuse she could offer was that it was really late by then and didn't want to wake anyone up by calling. That earned her a 'bad girl' and a slap on the wrist, then they both laughed it off.

'I even said I had to crawl up the tree outside to avoid making my dad angry. I really don't like lying.'

"So, Chris… What's up with the freak?" The cheer captain stops nibbling on a piece of steamed broccoli and freezes. Slowly, she looks up and across the table to the person who asked. Andy. One of Jason's closest friends and another guy on the basketball team.

'Shit!'

Panic sets in as everyone in hearing range quiets down and glances over. All eyes are on her now. This is bad. Probably couldn't be worse. A million thoughts race around, bouncing off the walls inside her mind. Just what did he see and how did it look to him? Was it at the end of second period? Or last night? Why did he wait until lunch with so many around to say anything? Just to make this uncomfortable?

"What are you talking about?" Jason asks, his voice low and full of confusion. They all know who 'freak' is referring to. It's just that he likely could never imagine either of them interacting. That makes sense, considering the situation. Why would someone's girlfriend have anything to do with a person he despises?

Just hearing the way he sounds makes her feel incredibly bad. She doesn't dare to look at him out of fear of possibly giving something away that should stay hidden. If there's a guilty expression, he might take it the wrong way and who knows what could happen. But it's not like she's cheating… Right? Does it count? They haven't done anything. Just hang out a few times.

"I saw Chris and Munster talking while coming out of O'Donnell's. They looked pretty chummy."

Staring down at the table, the blood drains from her face. A few 'oh's' and gasps come from some of the guys sitting with them. Jason's like a giant stone from how much he's stiffened up. She can hear his teeth grinding together from how close they're sitting. The muscles along his jaw are just as tense, giving away what his words won't.

Chrissy's scared. Sure, he's gotten angry before. That's usually on the court or when someone messes with one of his teammates. Being annoyed and enraged is not the same. How would he react in a scenario like this? There's no telling for sure and that frightens her. She struggles not to look over at the Hellfire table. He's there. She knows he is. Eddie purposefully bumped into her on the way to the cafeteria. Seeing him will make her feel a little safer again.

'Jason wouldn't do anything stupid, right? Not with everyone watching?'

"What's he talking about, Chris?" A lump forms in her throat when Jason leans in. She can feel everyone's eyes on them, and his, staring a hole right through her. This needs to be fixed… Immediately. Something has to come out to put them and him at ease. Make it seem ridiculous. She can do this. Hanging out with Eddie made her too carefree. Reality and consequences were always sitting there, just waiting to smash the rose-colored glasses she put on.

"Oh, um… Yeah, I dozed off in class and he woke me up on the way out. I was just thanking him before I didn't get the chance." It could've been better, but that's what came to mind. Lunch is going straight in the trash. There's no way she can eat another bite. Her stomach's in knots and she feels sick.

"He was probably trying to steal something from your bag and accidentally woke you up." Someone snickers from a few seats down the table. They don't deserve a single glance. All they'll receive is a glare.

"Or the freak was trying to get a free feel while you were out of it." Andy chuckles and she wants to smack him across the face. He's only saying that to rile Jason up even more. It's working if the small trembles throughout his body are anything to go by.

"Yeah, that guy's a friggin' creep. Wouldn't surprise me. You're just too nice for your own good, Chris. Some people will just take advantage of that."

Chrissy wants to scream. Just cover her ears and block out all the noise. The voices jeering and laughing, saying horrible things about someone she cares about. It's nothing really new, but it's different this time. Unlike the comment or two when he would do something to get everyone's attention, this is a flood of insults that were brought on because of her. This is her fault. All because she just couldn't wait to talk to him. Eddie's a good person… Better than anyone at this table.

"Don't talk to that jerk, babe. Even if it's to say thanks. He's nothing but trouble, and I don't want him doing something to you." A hand touches her bouncing knee under the table and it takes every ounce of willpower not to yank it away. She wants to get up and run to the bathroom to cry. Everything's all mixed up inside and there are too many emotions to sort out.

"Jason's right." Her eyes widen hearing Amber's voice. She keeps them trained on the lunch table, not trusting them to keep it together if they land on anyone's face. "Besides… Being seen with him is like, social suicide. You're the head cheerleader. If you look bad, it affects us all."

Wrapping her arms around herself, she leans forward against the edge of the table, trying to calm her breathing. It's like getting hit from all sides. Even Amber has to chime in with her unsolicited opinion. What is this sinking sensation in her gut? Betrayal? None of them understand though… No. Even before they started hanging out, she was scared of Eddie, yet never talked like this. It's just mean-spirited and nasty.

"You guys are being so dramatic…" She whips her head up when Natalie says that, slamming her small milk carton on the tray. "It's not that big of a deal." The redhead sits up and glares at Amber. "Chrissy talking to someone for a few minutes won't do shit to the rest of us. Stop kissing Jason's ass."

"But you gotta real one there. I know I'd want her in my corner if shit hit the fan."

If Chrissy wasn't glued to the seat from nerves, she'd get up to hug and kiss her friend right now. It doesn't matter even if it's just to be a contrarian. She's grateful to see someone speak up and disagree with what's going on.

'I wish I had her guts. I'm sorry, Eddie. God, I hope he can't hear any of this…'

"I'm just saying how it is. Everyone knows what that weirdo's like, and that Jason and him don't get along. No one needs rumors going around with regionals coming up. We should be focusing on that." Amber bites out, staring daggers at her fellow junior. The way she's acting is strange. Something's off. The blonde's usually a lot sweeter and non-confrontational. What's gotten into her?

"I don't want to hear that from you."

"Guys, chill the hell out." Charlotte angrily drops her burger down onto the tray with a huff. "You're ruining my lunch." The guy sitting next to her turns in his seat to rub a hand up and down her back, trying to calm his girlfriend down. John is one of the few party kids that often sit with the cheerleaders.

This is ridiculous. A bunch of nonsense. What does it matter who she talks to or why? And most of them are making Eddie out to be this atrocious creature when he's a really nice person. None of them even know him like that. Her mind goes back to The Hideout when she was called a demon girl… He got angry. Right now, she's angry too. And also afraid. Part of her wants to get up, yell at them, then storm off.

'Am I too scared to even take up for him?'

"Dunno but I wouldn't be happy if that jerk was around my girl," Andy says with a mouth full of food.

"I'm not." Clenching his fist, Jason's eyes narrow on his friend. She knows that look. Those two are bad influences on each other. It's just asking for trouble. "I'm going to say something to that prick." Pulling the hand on her leg away, he stands up and glares across the cafeteria.

"What?! No!" Chrissy latches onto his arm and everyone at the table seems startled by the outburst, even herself. This is wrong. She was the one who kept reaching out. Why should he deal with the consequences of her selfish, needy behavior?

"Me, Patrick, and Lucas got your back if you wanna go to the freak table." The big mouth adds in, fueling the fire. Patrick has been quiet this entire time and looks taken off guard hearing his name added to the list.

"What do you mean, 'no'?" He glances down at the small hands tugging on the sleeve of his varsity jacket and purses his lips, looking annoyed.

The fact that Jason hasn't pulled away and marched over there means he's still on the fence. This might be salvageable. Sticking out her bottom lip, the cheer captain gazes up at him in hopes that they can just finish lunch peacefully. "You guys… You guys are being really mean." If pouting stops him, by God she'll do it. "He was just being nice to me. That's all. And I thanked him for it."

"You're not getting it," He's irritated, but the display took it down a notch. She can tell from his face and stance. That's still something. "I can't stand that freak's guts. Why would I want him talking to my girlfriend? Or ruining your reputation? And you think trailer trash like him was just 'being nice'? You don't understand guys, especially that kind. There's always an ulterior motive. He was trying to get something like Andy was saying… Maybe so this would go around and eventually reach me. He loves nothing more than trying to get under my skin."

'I do get it and everything's not about you. I doubt you actually want to go over there. You just don't want to look weak in front of the boys.'

"I think my reputation takes a bigger hit if my boyfriend goes around threatening other guys for something so small. People will avoid me if they think you're going to flip your lid like that. It makes you look insecure, too." His eyes widen and jaw goes slack at that. "Besides, there's a big game tonight. You guys even did extra practice for it. If you get into a fight, it might ruin the game. Then what happens to regionals? Is it worth it?" Chrissy's heart is racing a mile per second. Even her limbs are trembling. It's really difficult to hide it. Maybe everyone already notices it. This is the most she's ever talked back to Jason, and it's in front of others.

"She's right." A hand comes down to ruffle the top of her ponytail. Hearing the familiar sing-song voice from behind, she looks up to see Joey standing above her. Natalie's cousin and proclaimed 'King of the Party Kids'. Her eyes hurt just from looking at him. That feathered light brown hair with yellow-rimmed sunglasses on top, a lime green shirt, and acid wash jeans. A real visual assault. Still, he shouldn't be here… His lunch period is after this. Then again, he does whatever he wants, like someone else she knows.

"Look at this face." The human tower leans down and clasps the sides of her cheeks for emphasis. "She's all upset, you animals. Get it together." Jason scowls but says nothing as the older guy lets go, moving over to sit his butt right on the edge of the lunch table. "And I wouldn't do that if I were you, big guy." He says to the captain, reaching over to pluck a fry off Andy's tray.

"Why not?"

"You see those guys over there." Joey points towards the 'freak' table, talking with the fry in his mouth. Along with the others, Chrissy's eyes dart across the cafeteria to look. The Hellfire crew are chatting, laughing, and eating. Nothing out of the ordinary. Eddie's sitting back in his seat while picking at a snack bag but seems really tense even from this distance. "Yeah, they don't give a shit about anything outside of their hobbies. Those dudes got nothin' to lose and are used to dealing with crap from people. It won't be the clean, one-on-one gentleman's fight you're looking for. You hit one of them, don't be surprised when another bashes your head in with a lunch tray."

"Tch. That's cowardly." This time it is Chance who responds. He hasn't said too much so far but she knows his voice was in with the others at some point.

"You're cute." The super senior snorts, shaking his head. "Here's the thing, boys and girls… In the real world, when shit gets serious, anything goes. All bets are off. If you want to go over there and start something, go ahead. Be my guest. Just know that some of you might get hurt and have to pull out of the game tonight."

"Shaddap, you're not even supposed to be here," Natalie throws a couple of fries at him. He catches at least one, but the rest fall to the floor.

Jason and Andy toss side glances at each other, trying not to make it super obvious. They know he's right. Is starting crap with a 'satanic cult' over a tiny infraction worth throwing away all the hard work they put in if something goes wrong? Even slipping on the way over there can mess up an ankle and take a teammate out of the game.

'Thank God! I think that might've stopped them…'

The van makes a sharp turn off the street, tearing into the parking lot. Leaving a fresh set of skid marks right next to the many older ones. It abruptly stops right in front of the brick building. The loud music inside is turned down as its owner flicks a roach out the window, letting the smoke billow out with it.

"Okay." Eddie pats himself down, trying to remember what he did with the damn thing. Oh, yeah. Yanking open the glove box, a ringed hand fishes around for what he's looking for. There it is. He pulls out a hefty envelope and tucks it into the inside pocket of his jacket.

This is the second time coming to The Hideout today. First, balls early in the morning to pick up, and now, to drop something off. Doing a delivery right after school sucks, but at least he's a fast driver. Gets stuff done a lot quicker. There are still places to be and crap to do. This won't be an all-day event.

'The shit I do for money.'

Hopping out of the van, it's quickly locked up and he heads over, whistling a little tune. This shouldn't take long. It'll be one more thing to scratch off the to-do list. The bar's front door is open and he lets himself in, looking around the place. They're not open for regular business yet. All the lights are off since it's still daytime. Not until night does it come alive.

'Huh. One person's usually sitting by the bar.'

His ears perk up hearing muffled voices. They must be in the back. Striding across the floor, Eddie hops over the counter and heads in there. It's faster than going all the way around the damn thing and Donna's not here to yell at him.

The back is even dimmer without the light coming in from the windows. He quietly walks down the hall, listening intently to figure out where exactly it's coming from. There are a bunch of smaller rooms on this side of the building. Yelling would make it easier, but the last time he did that, the owner whacked him with a rolled-up magazine for startling her. Then again, popping up might cause the same outcome… Maybe there's no winning.

'There they are.'

In one of the rooms with the door slightly ajar. He can hear them clearly now. Donna and that asshole, Jax. His brow furrows from hearing the tone. It doesn't sound right.

"I don't know what to do anymore, Donna… I really think I'm losing my mind! It's getting harder to tell what's real or not. Maybe… Maybe… Fuck!"

That's enough to stop the Hellfire leader in his tracks. Is Jax having some kind of breakdown? He knew the guy was having a hard time again, but not all the specifics. Addiction was a given. That's been a struggle for a while now. Still, he's never heard him like this before.

"Hey, hey. Take a deep breath. Look, we'll try to figure this out. Okay?"

"You don't understand! It's getting worse. Worse, worse, worse! I'm living in hell and the devil's toying around with me like I'm his little bitch!"

'What the fuck is going on?!'

"Psst!" Glancing up, Dom's at the end of the hall and motions for him to follow. He does, albeit a bit hesitantly. They head further down, right into the storage room. The older man closes the door behind them and sighs deeply, running a hand through his dirty blond hair.

"My bad, dude. Didn't think you'd be here until later. Should've known better with the way you drive… So, I take it everything's good?" The guy looks tired and a little stressed as he pulls out a chair to sit down. Does it have to do with what's going on in the other room?

Eddie stares at him blankly for a second. "Oh, uh… Yeah. Wouldn't be here if it wasn't." Pulling out the large envelope, he hands it over and watches as the contents are spilled on a table. Money. A lot of it. Dom licks his fingers and starts counting it out, putting the bills into neat little piles.

Part of him wants to ask about Jax, but it's none of his business. He just leaves it hanging in the air, silently watching the money being sorted. It's all there. There was no way he was leaving without making sure. That would make him look bad as hell if it was short.

"Good job, man." Turning in his seat, Dom holds out a wad of cash for him. "I'm glad there's someone reliable 'round here." He shakes his head and stuffs the other piles back into the envelope, satisfied with the results.

"Yeah, no problem. Nothing I can't handle."

"Oh, and—" A brow arches when a few more bills are thrust toward him. "You didn't hear nothin' back there. No matter if Jax is acting like a little asshole and trying to start a fight… Right?"

Looking from Dom to the money, he doesn't hesitate to snatch it up. Screw it. "Don't know what you're talkin' about."

"Good man. Take it easy." They clasp hands and pat each other on the back before he heads out. The voices in the hall already died down when the storage room door is opened. Maybe they heard him and Dom? It doesn't matter. Still, this might be the fastest he's ever tried to leave The Hideout in all the years of coming here.

The sun's too bright when he steps out of the building, trudging back towards the van. Once he hops in and gets it going, the music's turned up as loud as it will go. What the hell was that about? Pulling out onto Prospect, long fingers tap against the steering wheel as the scene replays in his mind.

Eddie didn't like any of that. It made him feel weird… And he wouldn't have told anyone, anyway. There was no need to buy his silence. Bringing it up to Jax's face certainly wouldn't happen either. He's not the kind of person who can see someone suffering and use that as ammo against them, let alone over a petty argument. That's low as fuck. But he really needs the money, so there's no turning it down based on principle or some stupid shit. If they want to hand over cash, then so be it.

It's a shame. They actually used to get along when he first started going to The Hideout. Jax was pretty chill and welcoming. The guy used to tell weird stories about being sensitive to the supernatural and the creepy shit he's seen. Stuff an edgy brat would totally eat up. Things changed when his addiction got out of control. Taking everything under the sun and drinking like a fish. Then his band suffered because he'd show up late, not at all, or would be a total mess on stage. Corroded Coffin got their slot at eight on Tuesday nights and it's gone downhill since then.

The last month has been nothing but one-sided bullshit games. Now the guy's worse than ever and always picking fights. It's like he's begging for someone to lay him out. Eddie already realized something's wrong a while ago and tries not to take the bait. If it can be avoided, he'd rather not throw fists. The whole point of going to the bar is to relax and have a good time.

"I think… I think I'm really losing my mind… I don't understand what's happening to me."

Chrissy said that in the hallway at school, after going into shock or whatever happened. It sounds eerily similar in tone to what Jax told Donna. Hearing that type of fear in a person's voice isn't very common. They were both terrified and confused, neither understanding what was going on. That guy might just be on a bad bender… There's no good explanation for her, though.

'This bothers me. I don't like it. Not one bit.'

"As my girlfriend, you should have my back. That really made me look bad. Joey didn't help either."

"I'm sorry, but if I said nothing, you were going to do something you might regret later on. I was just trying to think ahead. After all the time and effort you put into this, I didn't want you throwing it all away over nothing." Chrissy frowns, squeezing the pompoms in her fists.

This really isn't the best time to talk about it. Right before a very important game and in the corner of another school's gymnasium. People are already filling the bleachers. Instead of preparing and making sure their heads are in the right space, Jason came out to pull her aside. This apparently couldn't wait until afterward. It must've really been bothering him.

Putting his hands on his hips and looking out towards the court, he sighs deeply. "You're right… It's not worth it. The team should come first. If things went wrong, I would've let them all down. This is on me. I need to be the bigger man and do what's right for all of us."

'Well, that's something… Better than him starting a fight.'

"Jason Carver!" An older man walks over that's friends with their dads, mostly Jason's. He goes to the same church. His wife also works at this school.

"Mr. Walker." Chrissy purses her lips as the two men shake hands, staying behind as they take a few steps away to talk. That's fine with her. It's a chance to skip any unwanted small talk.

"Looking forward to seeing the game, son. I know I'm supposed to be cheering for the other side but you know…" He lowers his voice and laughs, giving the team captain a little nudge. "Ah, Chrissy. Nice to see you again." She smiles politely, and it drops when the man quickly turns back to Jason. It's nothing unusual, especially with senior guys at the church. That always makes her feel like an afterthought. "So, when are you two getting married? After graduation, I'm assuming?"

The grip on her pompoms tightens even further. Everyone from their church is like this. That question came around before they officially started going out. It was always just assumed they would. The congregation is weird about abstinence for young, unwed people. Sex before marriage means a first-class ticket to hell, so the best way to avoid that is to either not do it or go through with the ceremony. Knowing that most don't want to wait that long, they push for couples to get hitched at a young age, since it's 'the right thing to do' and 'good for everyone'.

She's heard that her whole life. Have sex and go to hell or spend a lifetime being punished by God for committing such a terrible sin. Most of her friends heard the same stuff. Plenty of them have done it, some with a few different people by now, and they're still here. It doesn't seem like God is tormenting them, either. Still, the thought terrified her for years. That is, until sophomore year when a trap door didn't open up beneath Charlotte and send her straight to the fiery pits as she gushed about losing it.

"Oh, uh. When we're in college. We're both going to IU Bloomington in the fall.

Chrissy zones out as the buzzing sound from the lights on the ceiling gets louder. Married while in college? When? Freshman year? Senior? There's a four-year gap between those. That doesn't seem like much time. What's the plan? Maybe it's just something to quiet down the church people for now.

'What is he talking about?'

"Chris? Chris?" Jason snaps his fingers, trying to get her attention when she realizes Mr. Walker is leaving. "It's time. We have to go." The game is about to start. "Give me a good luck kiss and let's pray we win this."

They kiss, and he hugs her tightly before jogging off to join back up with the others. She numbly walks across the gym floor towards where the cheer team gathered along the sidelines. Across the way is the home team in blue and white.

Scenes flash in Chrissy's mind. A traditional wedding in the church with a bunch of people she barely knows in attendance... Quitting her job after getting pregnant, with Jason saying not to worry. It's all part of God's plan… Being a housewife and stay-at-home mom, running after a bunch of blonde-haired, blue-eyed rambunctious kids. Just completely exhausted and getting little to no help since it's her 'duty'.

The next one is of a worn-out, older version of herself sitting on the couch, having another glass of boxed wine while reading a romance novel and glancing at the clock for the millionth time. He's late coming home from work again. Ever since that assistant half her age started working there. The woman is young, energetic, fresh, and has a nice figure. People are going to say it's her fault for not giving him what he so obviously needs.

'The TV is putting strange thoughts in my mind. No more soaps.'

All the images are causing Chrissy's stomach to churn. This is her future, huh? It will be, like many of the women in their congregation. Is that what she wants? That was the plan, right? So why does the air feel so thin right now? She's not sure which part of it is the key problem. Age? Marriage? Children? Jason? The community? Perhaps as a collective, they're daunting.

A referee coming out onto the court grabs her attention. She takes a deep breath and tries to push away her existential panic. Now's not the time. The teams get in position along the sidelines, not needing to be told what to do. The routines at games aren't as complicated as the ones at pep rallies.

The Tigers run out and Jason puts on a cheery act, stopping in front of the cheerleaders and kissing Chrissy's hand in front of everyone. The crowd cheers and she's embarrassed with all those eyes on them. Then he runs into the middle of the floor with the others.

"Glad to see you two aren't upset after earlier." Charlotte leans over and whispers. The brunette's always on her right side, regardless of the routine. It's been like that for a long time.

"Mmm…" Chrissy says half-heartedly. They didn't exactly make up. That's not how it usually works. They do so many events together during basketball season that if they get into a small tiff or anything, they play it off in front of others and it just gets let go. Neither will bring it up again as if nothing ever happened.

The other team sprints out to an even louder chorus of cheers. That's expected. This is a rival school. Jason and their captain meet in the center as the referee throws the ball in the air. The other team gets to start off on offense.

Right away, the cheerleaders shake their pompoms and begin to cheer.

"B–E–A–T beat 'em! B–U–S–T bust 'em! Beat 'em, bust 'em, that's our custom! Gooo TIGERS!"

Chrissy smiles brightly in the center of the routine, shaking her pompoms and hips as their team gets the ball back. She enjoys doing this and entertaining the crowd. It's easier to let everything else fade into the background. All that matters is focusing on her movements while putting on a good show.

"F–I–G–H–T! Fight! Fight! Tigers fight!"

The trailer door swings open and Eddie walks in, his arms full of stuff. A sneaker moves back to kick it closed. Whatever. Sighing, he drags himself through the small living room and heads down the short hall, straight to the bedroom. At least that's open. His past self's carelessness is coming in handy for once.

Striding over to the bed, the bags and pail are dropped onto his blanket. This took longer than expected. Should've guessed it would. Nothing can be easy, huh? His sneakers are kicked off onto the floor and jacket is slung over the back of his chair. Unfortunately, there's still a lot more to do.

'No rest for the wicked.'

He goes into the drawers and grabs a few tins, sitting them down on the table. Plopping down on the chair, they're opened and the money hidden inside them is pulled out. It's not a lot… Still, it's what he worked for. The bills are separated into different spots in an attempt to budget for various things. One is for gas. Another for band-related shit. Or emergencies and bills just in case. His uncle usually refuses to accept any, but it's better to have it if something happens.

'Goddammit.'

This month isn't looking so hot. It's from all the splurging lately. Maybe those extra albums weren't such a great idea. At least the cash from Dom will even things out. The point was to save up, not scrape by. Oh, well. He's just going to have to really hustle.

The phone rings and his brow furrows. If it's someone else trying to sell them the Guide again, he's going to flip. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Hold the hell on." Getting to his feet, he grumbles on the way to the living room.

Taking his sweet ass time, Eddie smacks his lips and snatches up the receiver. "City morgue. You stab 'em, we slab 'em. How can I help you?"

"Eddie?"

'Shit!'

Pulling the phone away, he cringes and pinches the bridge of his nose. Of fucking course it's her when he answers like an asshole. "H–Hey, Chrissy. Can you, uh… hold on for a quick sec?"

"Yeah."

Every curse known to man flies through his mind as he puts the phone down and dashes back into the bedroom. What luck. What friggin' luck. Grabbing his pack, ashtray, and lighter, the Hellfire leader rushes back and hops onto the counter, trying not to knock over the mugs hanging up.

"You still there?" His eyes dart back and forth, listening intently when he snatches up the phone. If Chrissy hangs up, that's that. After all, she has his number. Not the other way around. The best he can do is find a phonebook somewhere or ask around. Doing the latter would probably get him nowhere and make him seem like a creep.

"Ah–huh. Sorry, I know it's late and this might be—"

"No, no. It's not a big deal. Besides, I just got back so it's all good." Cutting the cheer captain off isn't great, but he doesn't want her going down that road. She'll just make herself feel guilty over literally nothing. He gave her his number for a reason.

"Oh, that's a relief. I didn't want to wake anyone up."

'Too sweet. I wouldn't have given two–shits.'

"Nah, it's not that late. And I might be old, but not that old. I don't have an early ass bedtime." He grins hearing her laugh on the other side. "So, what's up princess? Having a hard time going to sleep? Or are you bored?"

Eddie can't figure out why she finally called. It doesn't sound like she's distressed or had something bad happen like before. Maybe she needs a favor? Or just wants to talk? He nibbles on the inside of his cheek at the thought. It's not like Chrissy doesn't have a bunch of other people she can call. Is he the chosen one? Unless they're too busy. Surely her ultra-amazing boyfriend wouldn't mind staying up late on the phone?

'Useless sack of shit.'

"Um… Maybe a mix of both? I was watching TV and that show you like was on so…" she trails off, sounding nervous.

"C'mon, Chrissy. Just admit it. You missed me and wanted to talk. It's okay. I don't blame you." He knows he probably seems smugger than someone like him should. Perhaps even looks it. This might be a little ballsy, but nothing good happens to those who don't at least try.

"What?! That's not it! You're so full of yourself." The little huff from the other end is so funny. She's flustered. He must've hit the nail right on the head.

"No? Ouch. My mistake. I guess I am full of myself for thinking that."

"Well…" Hearing her struggle with the answer gives him a little bit of hope. She's thinking about it, maybe deciding how much she's willing to give away. "It might be a little true… Just a tiny bit."

"Oh, really? Careful now. If my head gets any bigger, I might be stuck in this trailer." Chrissy giggles and it feels good. That's a sound he likes to hear. Putting a foot up on the counter, he twirls the phone cord around one of his fingers. "You might need to knock me down a few pegs. Got too much shit to do and can't afford that."

"Does… Does that mean you're busy? Am I interrupting you?"

Eddie pulls the phone away and lets his head fall back. Oh, that sweet summer child. "No, don't worry about that. You're good. I can fit you into my hectic schedule." The last thing he wants right now is for her to get off. If Chrissy thinks she's being a bother or taking up his time, she'll skedaddle. "Why don't you, uh… tell me about your day?"

'Idiot!'

Isn't there anything better to come up with than that? Christ. If he could facepalm any harder, he'd go right through the side of the trailer. Maybe a punch will set him straight. That couldn't be any lamer. She should just hang up on him and cut off all contact.

"You want to hear about my day?" How bewildered she sounds takes him off guard. And she seems a little excited. Has no one asked her that before? "Really?" That gives him the impression it must be true… The smile on his face fades. It actually makes him feel bad. Wayne asks that all the time, especially after moving in, and he hasn't thought twice about it in years.

"Yeah, sure. Why not?" It's not like hearing about her day is a hassle. Eddie just thought she'd think it was lame that he'd even ask. Guess not. This is good. He's more than willing to keep listening to her voice.

"Okay." Chrissy's all bright and cheerful. He can almost hear her smiling on the other line. Probably swinging her legs around too. "So, after school today, we had an away game at—"

"Alright… Goodnight, princess."

Hanging up the phone, Eddie sits back and slowly exhales. His face is hot. He reaches up and frantically scratches his head, further messing up his already disheveled hair. No harm, no foul. Barely anyone could tell the difference anyway. Glancing over at the clock, he's stunned to see the time. They were talking for over an hour and a half… It didn't even feel like it. And they only got off because she kept falling asleep on him.

'Holy shit. Didn't expect any of that. Chrissy sounds really cute when she's tired.'

It's surprising that she actually called just to shoot the shit. Sliding off the counter, he stretches his arms and legs out. One thing he's never been a fan of is sitting on the phone for more than five minutes. His little sheep all know that and keep it short if they have to get a hold of him. This might've changed his mind. As long as it's her on the other end, a sore ass and stiff muscles are nothing.

That was definitely different. In a good way. They both talked about their day, with him omitting a few details. After asking if she ate, it got turned back around on him. Hoo boy. The shock in her voice when learning about what he and his uncle typically eat sure was something. Lots of PB&J sandwiches, pizza rolls, hot dogs, boxed mac n' cheese, TV dinners, and the occasional takeout from a local place if they're feeling fancy. What can he say? They live on a budget and Wayne works the night shift, so both are mostly left to fend for themselves. That, and they're two hopeless guys who can't cook for shit.

'She offered to make dinner for us… What a sweetheart.'

Chrissy might be too good for this world. Despite having issues with food, she still wants to cook something for them after hearing how crap their diets are.

Heading back into the bedroom, he goes over some things she said. The Tigers won the game tonight. The basketball team doesn't matter, but she's the head cheerleader. It's the only reason he would give a damn. That means her reign as captain lasts longer. Then they talked about other stuff, like how his headbanging scares the crap out of her. And he explained how it won't break his neck. What a worrywart.

Flopping down on the mattress, Eddie drapes an arm over his face and groans. He likes Chrissy… a lot. Nursing a baby crush from a distance is one thing. Getting to know that person and spending time with them is another. Still, he's not sure if life is being sweet or terribly cruel to him just yet.

'Dumbass doesn't know how good he's got it.'

Jason is not a smart man. Isn't slick either. That's for sure. Do those two even hang out? Hardly seems like it. Has he even realized she's been going through some shit the last few weeks? Or is he too caught up in throwing balls into laundry baskets and partying it up late into the night at ol' Benny's to notice anything's off?

Imagine having a girl and being that oblivious and negligent… He could never.

That's okay. If Captain Toolbox is too busy with the douche squad and other cheerleaders to pay attention to his girlfriend, then Eddie can fill that spot. Chrissy will be in better hands that way. Jason's obviously not up to the task. Whether it's as a friend or something else, he can be what she needs.

Staring into the vanity, Chrissy gently runs a comb through her strawberry blonde locks. Almost done. It's really getting long now. The last time it's been cut was when she went to the salon with her mom. Letting it grow too much was a no-no. Otherwise, she'll start looking like one of those 'hippies'.

'I like it long.'

Today's the big day. Her eighteenth birthday. She's finally a legal adult that can make decisions without needing permission. This was the year the cheer captain's been waiting for. It's the reason she bought the '86 necklace a while back. As a reminder that freedom was right around the corner. A lot has changed since then…

The comb's set down on the table and she picks up the white headband. The cloth is wrapped under her hair and brought up along the side to the top, where she ties the ends into bunny ears. Almost like a little half-hearted bow on the gift that should matter most to her. This was supposed to be the day when everything that's been stolen over the years was finally returned. Yet here she is, sitting in an empty house. Getting ready for something she doesn't even want to do.

'Nothing's different. Mom's gone and Dad's doing God–knows–what.'

Oh, well. Chrissy gets up and takes a few steps back, trying to get a good look at herself in the vanity without bringing out the full-length mirror. This outfit is okay. Bright enough. The pastel pink dress is tighter up top until it reaches her hips, then it's pleated. These elbow–length sleeves are fine too. She twirls the bottom of the skirt, doing a little spin in the mirror. It puts a smile on her face.

'I hope this isn't too much.'

The eyeshadow she wears for games and pep rallies is usually a shade of blue. This time, it's a shimmery nude one that Charlotte gave her before. There aren't a whole bunch of colors that would go well with this dress and her eyes. Well, not that she can think of or has on hand. A little eyeliner and mascara along with that but no lip gloss. Jason doesn't like it getting on him.

Doing a few poses in the vanity, Chrissy lets out a little chuckle and covers her face shyly. For once… she actually feels pretty. And not just merely content with the reflection looking back. It's kind of embarrassing. Maybe turning eighteen made a difference. Or it's something else.

The cheerleader runs down the mental list of things that needed to be done as she pads across the carpet and opens the door to the walk-in closet. A pair of white ballet flats are separate from the rest, ready for this occasion. They match best with the rest of her outfit.

A shower and breakfast are taken care of. Just some toast since there's no telling what Mrs. Carver has planned, food–wise. She took her vitamins and pill this morning, as usual. After missing a day two weeks ago, it's become a priority not to forget. A dirty little family secret since freshman year. One her mom pushed for that seems more like a blessing now that she's older. If anything happens, there's some security in knowing it's there.

'That's about it. I think everything's done.'

All she needs now is some enthusiasm. Looking at the clock on the nightstand, it's almost time. She grabs her purse and slips on the flats, heading out of the bedroom. There's a knock on the door before reaching the bottom of the stairs. He's a few minutes early.

Opening the front door, Chrissy makes her lips pull back into a smile at the man standing on the other side. Jason. In a nice dress shirt and trousers, definitely dressed to impress company.

"Happy Birthday, babe." Looking her up and down, Jason seems to like what he sees. A lot. They kiss and hug before locking the front door and heading towards the Jeep. She takes the walkway, hoping to avoid getting anything on the flats for now. It's only a few seconds longer.

Hopping into the passenger side, she lets out a deep breath as her boyfriend gets in. There's undoubtedly going to be a lot of people there… Probably more than she's equipped to deal with at the moment. Not much can be done about it now. Anything that wouldn't make her look bad.

"Your dad really couldn't reschedule? Even on your birthday? My parents were expecting him to come."

"I'm sorry. He said there's just too much to catch up on after being sick." Chrissy shrugs, trying to ignore the guilt coiling inside. Lies on top of lies. Eventually, they'll all come tumbling down on her. When is the real question.

"What a workaholic." With that, the Jeep's started up and takes off.

"Thank you! This is wonderful!" Moving the tissue paper aside, a handbag is pulled out of the box and held up for everyone to see. A black designer bag… It must've cost a pretty penny.

"You're welcome, dear." Mrs. Carver smiles widely, pleased with the reactions her gift elicited. She gently touches the bottom of her short blonde perm then smoothes out the skirt of her dress. Something that happens pretty often. "Anything for our future daughter-in-law."

That makes Chrissy feel like crap. She shifts uncomfortably on the plush cushioned seat, gazing at all the faces around the large parlor. Almost the entire cheer and basketball teams are here. And lots of adults. Mostly mutual friends of the Carvers and her dad's. Countless times they've asked questions about him, despite her not wanting to talk about it. That makes sense, though. Of course people would be curious about why he's not here. It makes her sad. This is the first birthday she's had with both parents not around, just for different reasons.

The Carver's home is huge. Even more so than her family's. And the parlor is no exception. Jason's mom really enjoys the classic, vintage appearance. The spacious room has cream-colored walls and large windows. Around them are tawny drapes with gold designs throughout them with tassels of the same material. Beneath her ballet flats is an expensive rug on top of their beautiful hardwood floor.

'She has fancier tastes than my mom.'

A sparkling chandelier hangs from the center of the ceiling that can't be missed by any who enters. Along the walls are lavish chairs and sofas, all in the same style so everything matches. Just a few feet away from the cheer captain is a long, heavy wooden table that was once filled with wrapped presents.

Despite being in a beautiful home surrounded by many celebrating her birthday, Chrissy is exhausted. Hours and hours of walking and standing around the large property. First, they had drinks and finger food in the backyard. And the endless questions... Where is her dad? What's he up to? Why isn't he here? How does she feel about being eighteen now? What is she planning on doing after graduation? What about her and Jason? Thankfully the cheer team was here or she might've gone mad.

Jason's getting similar treatment but seems to handle it a lot better. When are they going to college? Are they getting engaged? Will he make an honest woman out of her? When's the wedding? Are they invited? Or comments about how beautiful their future kids will be… Those really freak her out. Less than twenty–four hours ago, she was seventeen years old. The last thing she wants to think about is getting pregnant or having children.

Then the large group moved into the parlor after a while to have the actual celebration. Where they are now. Opening up all the presents before the cake is brought out.

Chrissy internally sighs, trying to keep control of her expression and body language with everyone watching. After a while, it just wears a person down. She doesn't have the same levels of endurance as before. It used to be easier. Keeping a smile for hours on end and bouncing around with so much vigor, showing people how happy and excited she is about everything. All while being exceedingly polite, ignoring any inappropriate comments from adults, and trying to brighten up the room. Her younger self had a resilience she does and doesn't envy.

"Last one." A small box is handed to her by the person standing just a few inches away. Jason. He has a pleased smirk on his face, looking from her to the gift. All eyes are focused on them again, this time with a little more interest. Staring down at the little wrapped square, her insides twist with anxiety. It only worsens seeing the excitement on his face.

'God, please don't be that.'

If it is, she just might die on the spot. He wouldn't do that, right? Everyone's been bugging the heck out of them about it. If they did get engaged, there's no doubt he'd want an audience. What would she say if it is? There are so many people watching… Rejecting him in front of anyone who 'matters' in town would be so mortifying. Could she say yes now, then turn him down later and give him a piece of her mind?

"But if it bothers you so much, then give me your time and a piece of your mind. That should bring balance to the force."

Now the nausea is setting in.

The ribbon around the box is slowly untied and the lid's taken off. Inside is a glittering bracelet in a circle, lying on a tiny cushion. She lets out a relieved breath, pressing a hand against her chest. Thank goodness…

"That's white gold and those are white sapphires." Jason leans down and whispers, pointing at the small gems along the tennis bracelet. It's low enough for the others not to hear.

"Wow! It's so beautiful… I love it!" She smiles widely, tilting the small box forward so everyone can catch a glimpse of it. They all do it with every present received. Noises of approval come from every direction as the piece of jewelry is carefully taken out and wrapped around her wrist by the man who gifted it. A grunt of irritation slips out as he struggles with the clasp. That's okay. Some of them can be tricky.

Her eyes trail across the room to where the cheer team is sitting together. Most seem interested in what's going on, but a few. Charlotte looks bored out of her mind, slumped in the chair without a care about who might be watching. It's not like her parents would reprimand her. And Natalie's making a strange face. Somewhere between amusement and pity. When they make eye contact, both can barely hold back a goofy grin.

"Okay, now that all the presents are opened, it's time for the cake." Mrs. Carver clasps her hands and turns on her heel, marching out of the parlor. She wheels in an antique-looking serving cart with a pedestal cake dish and glass cover on top. "Jason, honey, do you mind?" Strolling over, he gently picks up the dish and carefully sets it down on the long table against the wall, trying not to wrinkle his mother's lace covering. It all has to look picture-perfect.

The cake is very pretty. She saw it earlier. A vanilla cake with buttercream frosting. The decorated edges and lettering were done with green and orange icing. So it's literally the school's colors… Not that she can complain. It was nice of them to get her anything and with so many people, Mrs. Carver chose flavors that are more likely to go over well with the guests.

"Please gather around the table. Chrissy... you sit here. Okay, now let's sing Happy Birthday."

'I want to go home soon.'