As Chrissy allowed her younger brother to open the door to her bedroom, his excitement and relief that his older sister was home and alive practically radiating off of him, she clutched a single item closely to her chest, unwilling to let it go for even a second.
"I kept your room clean when you were gone!" Matthew said as he ran past Chrissy, "See?" He said, "I made sure there was no dust. Not a speck!" He said, mimicking what their mother always said when she inspected their rooms for cleaning day.
"Matthew, how thoughtful of you," Chrissy said with a warm smile. At least someone had thought about her in a kind way when she was gone in this family.
"Well," Matthew said, rocking on the heels of his shoes, "You know how mom pays me 25 cents to clean my room each week…?" He trailed off, looking up at her with big, hopeful eyes. Chrissy grinned. She would have reached out to ruffle his hair if her single good arm wasn't holding something of utmost importance.
"This is a business transaction, isn't it?" She said.
"Dad always says to be smart with time because time is money." Matthew parrotted, "And, well, your room is bigger than mine…I'd like an extra 5-cent cleaner's fee."
Chrissy, who had quite a stash of money from birthdays and holidays, but now also from well-wishers unsure of what to say so gifting cash instead, was happy to pay that fee.
"You're going to run the world one day, Matty," She said warmly, "I'll bring it to you at dinner."
"Uhm, well, maybe just slip it under my door," Matthew said, wincing, "Mom…she didn't want anyone in your bedroom. Too sad."
Chrissy would sincerely like to believe that's true. She did believe her mother felt a strong range of emotions to find out what state she was in, but Chrissy was seriously hard-pressed to believe she was crying over her body or something. She wasn't sure her mother had a beating heart to do that.
But she wasn't going to burst Matty's bubble, telling him that their father was spineless and their mother would eat him alive one day with her nitpicking and cruel words. No, no, let him have some innocence still. If it tracked as it did for Chrissy, her mother would start the comments when he was a freshman, about three years away from now.
"I'll do that," She simply agreed.
"Awesome!" Matty started off and then turned back around, shyly, to give her a hug, "I'm really glad you're okay, Chrissy."
Before Chrissy could prolong a very tender sibling moment, he was off, yelling something about playing with some bottle rockets in the backyard.
Ah, to be 11 again, she thought with a forlorn smile.
She turned around, using her foot to kick the door closed.
Exactly how she'd left it the night she went to Eddie's to buy some drugs. Matty had done a commendable job keeping it dust-free, but he hadn't moved anything and she spotted her piggy bank still tipped on its side, gutted and spilling coins onto her makeup vanity. Her signature bright blue eyeshadow palette was still open, the brush snowflaking the pigment as she moved it to the side.
If she had only known that the night she thought she'd go and buy some Special K and it would just be fixed wouldn't turn out like that at all…
Stupid to say, since she had been thrust into a coma, but she thought perhaps it had gone better.
If she had gone along with the plan, no weird interference, she would have probably chickened out at the last moment. Or gotten so high that she didn't remember anything. Or would have gone, while high, to find Jason.
But now that she'd had a brush with death, she felt like her life had to mean something. She wanted to be stronger, less so easily accepting of things that just were, like the fact that the star of the basketball team and the head of the cheerleading squad were just 'meant' to be a thing. That's why she had accepted his offer for a date in the first place two years ago. It had made sense then. Not so much now.
No, now she knew what she wanted, and it burned in her chest with so much more passion and desire than Jason had ever made her feel.
Now that she knew what it actually felt like to like someone, she was unsure she could ever go back to the milquetoast feeling with Jason.
On her vanity, she carefully unloaded the item she refused to let go of, even to the point of starting a fight with her mother about it.
Her walkman.
Specifically, what lay inside.
Her mother she said that Chrissy should be 'actually using her brain' and not 'listening to that Devil's music' all day. Of course, anything that wasn't Christian hymns was devil's music, but if her mother knew what she was really listening to...that's why she kept it so close to her. One of the reasons, of course. The other was because of who gave this to her.
On Day 2 of being stuck in the hospital after being told she needed a five-day observation, along with the slew of 'get well' cards and flowers, a few dollar bills from sheepish friends who for sure didn't visit as much as they should have, and a letter from the school encouraging her to take all the time she needed to return (her grades were stellar; failing the semester was hardly an issue), there was a package that came too.
She'd had Jason open it since her arm was useless. It was her dominant arm too, the one that had been broken. She felt very helpless of late and hated depending on Jason so much.
He had frowned at it.
"Looks like a mix-tape," He said, examining it with narrowed eyes, "From…Knopfler." He glanced over the item at Chrissy, eyes zeroing in on her arm. He kept freakish track of whoever signed it, "The kid you're tutoring?"
That's who she'd told Jason the signature from Eddie was. She often spent her free-time tutoring freshmen that were struggling, as it was just a few more hours she didn't have to be at home. He'd believed it easily enough, but now it seemed like it may be harder to keep that up.
On one hand, she was surprised but strangely thrilled that Eddie had made her a playlist, and was internally grinning at his sneakiness. But on the outside, she had to keep a casual facade, and just shrugged.
"We used to listen to music while we studied. I mean, he does owe me something. I did help him pass History." She said. It was so easy to create this fake kid; a composite of about three that she tutored regularly. Perhaps she should be frightened she was able to lie and remember the lies, but it seemed so harmless.
"Nice, I guess," Jason said, narrowing his eyes and giving a growl.
"Babe, it's just a freshman. They all have puppy-dog crushes on upperclassmen," She said soothingly, though she found his jealously ridiculous, "You got five valentine cards from freshmen girls this year. I wasn't mad about that, was I?" She pointed out. She hadn't, truly, mostly because she knew that it was unlikely Jason had an interest in girls that young. He frowned, as though he hadn't thought of this.
"Well," He finally conceded, "My girlfriend is hot. I'd be offended if he didn't send you a little lovey-dovey mix-tape," He teased, "It probably sucks anyway. Looks like a lot of rock."
Jason's music tastes were not rock. She actually realized she couldn't really identify it, but it certainly was nothing that Eddie would listen to and vice versa.
Chrissy took the wrapping and she was glad she did. In the bottom was a hand-made booklet, something she really didn't want Jason seeing, and gave a half-hearted nod.
"I doubt I'll listen to it, but it's the thought that counts," She lied. In reality, she was dying to hear what lay inside the cassette contents.
As soon as everyone left, when Chrissy was most certainly supposed to be asleep, she nearly fell out of bed trying to reach her Walkman. Her heart thumped and danced in a weird rhythm, and it didn't start to calm down until she'd slid the headphones on and began listening to the first track - Sultans of Swing.
In the booklet, which she held to the light of the moon to read the scrawled handwriting, she smiled.
Your music knowledge is pretty good, but it can always be better.
Don't die of boredom while you're there.
Sincerely, Knopfler.
Then, he went so far as to give a little explanation of why he'd chosen each song. She imagined he did so because he was afraid she'd judge him, but it was the best gift Chrissy had ever received. Though it wasn't much money, she knew he spent a long time and a good amount of effort on this, and that alone was worth its weight in gold.
In the time spent, whenever she could, she was listening to the mix-tape.
Since then, she'd poured over the songs, trying to suss out more meaning when she could. She wanted to crawl inside Eddie's brain, pick it apart and know exactly what he'd been thinking when he'd made her this. The desire to just know him seemed stronger with each passing day, so much so that by the time she was cleared to leave, Eddie Munson swirled around in her brain on a 24/7 loop.
On her vanity, she put a desk lamp on the now slightly-wrinkled booklet, mapped with creases and lines from how many times she'd paged through it.
All the songs had little witty quips; not a paragraph's worth or an essay, but a sort of recognition that he hadn't just thrown together any ole song for her or re-used an old mixtape, but that he'd spent his own free time to make her a new one. Such as;
'Alive and Kicking' - You made it out, Alive and Kicking. And you're a cheerleader. Ha; kicking. Get it?
Or
'Bohemian Rhapsody' - If you don't know this song, I'm sorry, we can't be friends.
It made her heart skip a beat to read that the first time. She was glad he considered them friends, especially since he could have written off their three or four interactions as just that and nothing more. She hoped that when he said friends, it meant that he meant to be around more.
What she was so intently focused on right now though was the last track listing.
An anomaly. A change in the pattern. A mystery.
The last track was 'Head Over Heels' and while it was certainly penned in at number twenty-five on the tracklist that Eddie had written, there wasn't anything written after it. No explanation like the others.
Some of the songs on this mix-tape were previously unknown to Chrissy. Not this one. She knew it, and she knew some of the lyrics.
So, god, here she was, dissecting every pen-line over this little hand-made booklet, trying to decide if it had been a place-holder/a throw-away song for the last place or if there was some deeper, more meaningful answer hidden in here, something Eddie was trying to tell her but couldn't find the words to write it, but found find a song to say it.
In the end, she decided it wasn't anything, or at least not what she was totally making up in her head (and heart) about it. She knew that she gave a lot of thought to things. Boys often times did not.
She imagined asking Eddie about it and sharing a laugh that she would think he was trying to send her coded messages.
She looked at the clock. It was nearly dinner-time. She wondered if someone would fetch her. Were they trying to give her space, or was her mother making some snide comment about how she had eaten too much while resting and skipping a meal wouldn't kill her?
She wasn't too hungry anyway, so it didn't matter, but she was annoyed at the made-up scenario about it.
At least Jason couldn't hang around her at all times now. Now that she was home and now that school was starting up, for everyone else at least, after the weekend, he hopefully would be busier and have less time to 'dote' on her and smother her with his opinions and presence.
There was a tapping on her window and Chrissy glanced over lazily, but let out a small scream when she saw a face looking back at her through the window pane.
Her heart thumped. Oh no. This was it, wasn't it? She'd escaped death once, but now...wait, the beast that had tried to kill her didn't have any hair.
It was only when she registered it wasn't the monster coming back to take her for good this time and just Eddie did she realize that her scream would probably not go unnoticed by someone else in this house.
She unlocked the window and waved to Eddie just as she heard footsteps coming up the stairs. She lunged across her room to lock the door while motioning for Eddie to hide behind her bed.
"Sweetie? Are you okay?" It was her father.
"Yeah, uh, just thought I saw a mouse! It wasn't," She said with a fake 'oh, so silly me' laugh.
"Are you sure it wasn't? You know we've been having problems-,"
"Yep, no, just…my hairbrush. I guess I'm a bit jumpy," She said, pressing her body against the door and praying her dad wouldn't demand to come in. But she knew him.
"Okay! Dinner'll be in about half an hour." Her father said, believing her completely (why would Chrissy, little miss do-gooder, ever lie?) before going back downstairs.
Once there were no more sounds on the second floor, Chrissy turned to see Eddie pop his head up from behind her bed. The idea that he was even here in this room with her made her stomach do somersaults and her heart thump off-pace.
"Eddie!" She said, managing only to get his name out in her surprised, slightly chastising state.
"Chrissy!" He mimicked back in the same tone and cadence, "Why are we saying each other's names?" He asked after a moment.
"Why…you're…in my room," She sputtered, "And you came through the window."
Eddie smacked his head dramatically, "Oh, my bad. Should I have used some other way into the house? Like, hmm, a downstairs window?" He asked, stroking his chin, "Or maybe…a chimney?"
"Or a front door?" Chrissy asked with a giggle.
"Yes! Or that, I suppose, though imagine the conversation. 'Hello, Mr. Cunningham. I know you think I run satanic rituals, but you're cool if I just pop up to your daughter's room and close the door, right?'" He said and then gave a nod to the window, as if to say, 'you get it now'.
"Okay, okay, your method of entry is fine, all things considered. I just…why?" She couldn't help but wonder what seemed like the obvious to her. Why would he go out of his way to not only come to her house but climb their house to make it into her bedroom? If not for…
She glanced back at the mixtape, hope and amazement mixing together. She had never wanted anything as much as this, not even the Cheer Captian role was as badly desired.
"Well-," Eddie started strongly, and she expected some wild and wacky explanation, but then abruptly trailed off, "Uhm…" He said, clearly struggling, "Huh. I forgot. I was supposed to come up with a better reason on my way over here than…I don't know." He winced, "I mean, to check to see if you're okay. Can't really get near the hospital. I think Jason was on to my trail. And also…the mix-tape. I'm sure you haven't even had time to listen to it, but-,"
"I have it memorized," Chrissy interrupted in one big, dreamy exhale. Eddie stopped dead, a grin curling over his lips.
"No, no," He said, smiling at her, "Don't fuck with me."
"I'm not!" Chrissy said, "Track one: Sultans of Swing. Track two: Alive and Kicking. Track Three: Bohemian Rhapsody. Track Four: Blasphemous Rumors," She smiled, tilting her head, "Need me to go on?"
"No and yes," Eddie said, "I believe you now, but hell, keep going. I've never had someone list back the contents of a mix-tape I made for them. It's…" He broke off, looking down, and she desperately wanted him to finish it. What was he about to say? Adorable? Sexy? Creepy?
Goddamnit, Eddie, she thought, use your words!
When it became clear that Eddie was not going to finish the thought that kept her on the edge of her seat, she decided to take a brave proverbial step forward in this conversation.
"I like it. I mean, I really like it, Eddie," Chrissy said sincerely, taking a few careful, literal, steps toward him. It was like he was a deer in headlights, and she was worried any sudden movements would have him flinging himself out the window to get away.
"The dark humor wasn't too much?" Eddie asked with a nervous grin.
Chrissy shrugged, "I mean, I thought it was funny." She took another step toward him. And another.
"Good. It, uhm, worries people. So I've been told," Eddie said, "And it's probably not helping my innocence to be making 'Dead Chrissy' jokes."
"As the 'Live Chrissy', I'll be the judge, and I think they're funny," She reiterated. Everyone always treated her like a china doll, like she was going to break at any second. It was so refreshingly addicting that Eddie not only treated her with the strength she now knew she possessed but was comfortable enough to make jokes that Jason would never dare to do, "I did almost die. Of boredom. The soap operas on TV were terrible. Oh, and whatever that thing was, that almost killed me too." She said.
"Anymore…headaches?" He asked nervously, "Nosebleeds? Visions?"
Chrissy was standing right in front of him. It was almost comically funny how tall he was compared to her. Even if she strained up on her tiptoes, she wouldn't reach her target, which meant the idea that was now ruminating in her brain would require his participation too.
His old t-shirt, the Hellfire one, smelled like smoke and the woods. She was sure he'd washed it since camping out there, but maybe not. It didn't smell terrible on him, though, it just smelled like something oddly familiar. Or perhaps comforting.
"Why do you care about that?" Chrissy asked with a frown, "And don't say because I'm a good customer and you wouldn't want to lose my business. I didn't even buy anything. If anything, I was a shitty customer, you know, almost framing you for murder," She reminded him. Eddie, who had his mouth open, closed it.
"I…" He suddenly didn't have anything clever to reply with, just silence, and almost a panicked sort of expression.
Chrissy leaned up, her good arm curling around his neck, fisting itself in his long hair as she pulled him toward her. She gave him a good beat of a pause to stop her, but he didn't. He just stood absolutely still, so she took that as a sign to shove herself up on the heels of her feet to kiss him.
He tasted like mint, and she wondered if he'd gnawed on a piece of gum on his way here. Or was this was he naturally tasted like?
Gosh, she wished both her arms were at her disposal, so she could pull him closer to her and not seem so wanton as she pressed against him, but do it cutely. He responded, his arms curling around her shoulders, respectfully, and though she appreciated the gesture, she was beyond chaste kisses. She needed to amp up this interaction, release some of the fire that burned deep in her stomach.
As soon as her body hit him, Eddie stumbled back, breaking the kiss.
"What...why did you do that?" He asked, groaning as he shook his head.
"Do that?" Chrissy echoed, "Wh…that's not…why did you stop? Oh no." She widened her eyes, "I didn't…you don't…you said we were friends and I just kissed you and-,"
"Chrissy, hey, woah, can we calm down a second?" Eddie said, moving the space in between them. He didn't seem patronizing, just worried, "You're going to pass out…again." He added with a wry smile.
"I'm so sorry, Eddie. I just…sprung that on you. I guess I just made up what I hoped was real," She said, wanting to disappear into the ground right about now.
"Are you joking?" Eddie gave a pained wheeze, "Uhm, I don't want to ruin any virginal ears, but-," He tilted his head and Chrissy couldn't help but follow his gaze. She snapped her head up quickly, cheeks blushed a scarlet red once she realized that she could see his erection straining against his jeans.
She wasn't a virgin, as Eddie must have assumed, but somehow seeing that made her feel like one all over again.
"It's not for lack of want," He assured in a husky tone, then swallowed thickly, "Did you break up with Jason? Before we start whatever this is."
"No, I-," She frowned.
Eddie took a step back, nodding to himself.
"Chrissy, it's been a really difficult couple of weeks for you. I don't want you making any decisions based on…well, I don't know, things that may have skewed your vision of things. You seemed happy with Jason before."
"When I was too stupid to realize what a jerkwad he was," Chrissy argued, frowning, "I'm not dumb, Eddie. I know myself." She said.
Eddie pressed his lips together, "You have no idea how much I want that to be true."
"But?" She prompted.
"I just…need your head to be totally, absolutely screwed on straight. People think I tried to kill you. If you change your mind-,"
"I'm not going to," Chrissy said, horrified and a bit hurt he'd think that she would go out of her way to make his life worse.
"You say that. Now." Eddie gnawed on his lip, "I'm not used to people wanting me for me, you know? So, well, just take some time with it." He said.
"How much time?" Chrissy demanded, crossing her arms, "Because I know for certain-."
"If that's true, it won't change. And I'll feel better knowing that your choice is free of...other issues," He said cautiously. Like Jason, she knew he was referring to. "We'll just be…friends," Eddie said, though it seemed it was difficult for him to force the word out.
"Friends," Chrissy echoed dully, then forced it to be brighter, "Friends." At least he wasn't cutting himself away from her entirely, for 'her own good'. Honestly, though, if one more person said that…she was going to slap them.
She really didn't feel like any of the things her doctor, her mother, or Jason assured her 'for her own good' was actually doing anything of value for her.
"Like…friends that hang out? Get food? Acknowledge each other in school?" She asked with a smile, likely far too desperate-sounding.
Eddie's smile back was tentative, as though he was sure it was about to be revealed that this was some big joke, "Sure, yeah. That. Are you coming back on Monday?"
"No, I think I'm taking at least another week. I'm still pretty tired and don't think I could make it through the whole school day length."
At this, Eddie's whole demeanor brightened, his smile the most amazing thing to Chrissy at the moment, and she made note of what he said next, wondering if this was the entire key to Eddie Munson's heart.
"Sounds like you are in need of another mix-tape, then."
