Chrissy waits to open the door; she looks both ways, as well as backward, and adjusts her baseball cap on her head with a snug tug. It's Matty's, so it doesn't quite fit, but it fits well enough.
"Okay, it's a go."
Beside her, Cheryl is looking at Chrissy like she's darn near crazy.
"Uhm, okay, 007, what's with all the theatrics?"
"Just…Hawkins talks," Chrissy said as she opens the passenger door. Cheryl gets out slowly, eyes narrowed.
"Yeah, it sure does, but that's why I assumed we're all the way in…the middle of nowhere?" She said slowly.
"It's not the middle of nowhere, it's…" Chrissy falters. She realizes she cannot remember the name of the town they've just entered. It doesn't matter, not really, though.
"Girl, when you said you wanted to hang, I thought we'd, I dunno, rent a movie or something." Cheryl sighs as she locks her car.
"We will," Chrissy promises, "After. But I need you for this, and more than that, your secrecy."
Immediately, Cheryl's eyes lit up.
"It's about him , isn't it?" She guesses quickly. Cheryl swallows; the 'secrecy' thing was maybe going too far. But Cheryl will just bother her if she denies it, and no, she's not wrong.
"Yeah, it is," Chrissy says with a slow wince.
Cheryl dances around the parking lot, "Oh thank the Lord! Just yesterday I was thinking I needed more data to figure this out and behold, here we are!" She throws her arms out, "At…a record store."
Chrissy thinks this is it; that Cheryl will immediately suss it out. But then, Cheryl pouts.
"Oh, that narrows it down," She sighs, "What teen do we know that doesn't listen to music?" She says, snapping in frustration.
Cheryl mutters a quick 'oh thank god', under her breath. She usually doesn't involve God in things like this, but it seems right for the moment.
"So what are we doing here?" Cheryl bounds after Chrissy as Chrissy pulls open the door, and the little chime bell goes off above their heads, "Buying?"
"Perusing," Chrissy corrects, "I, uh, want to try to make a present for him, for, uhm, graduation-,"
"So he's in our grade," Cheryl pretends to speak into a fake recording device, "Miss Cunningham is dropping clues by the second." She acts to click it off, "Honestly, I thought for a second he was older, like, some college guy you met."
Chrissy tries not to laugh. He is older, but he's also in their grade. Though, if she told Cheryl that, it would immediately be obvious, wouldn't it?
"Yes, he's in our grade," Chrissy says, starting on the Pop side of the record store, just to throw Cheryl off as she fingers through the albums for sale, "I want to figure out some songs now so I can be listening on the radio for them later." She says, "Or call in and request a few."
Cheryl pauses, having been holding an album from Blondie and examining the price tag, "Wow…this is really…that's a lot of effort," She says.
"I know," Chrissy feels her cheeks blush red, "But, well, he made one for me and it's the least I can do, you know? And yes, he just had the records, but my mom would flip if I brought some home without her approval."
"Yeah, I remember," Cheryl gives a laugh, though there's not a lot of humor in it. Not yet, at least. Cheryl and Chrissy, back when they were in 8th grade, had gone to the local record store and bought 'Trust' by Elvis, and Chrissy's mom had basically blown a gasket. Then, she'd gone through all of Chrissy's albums and taken the ones she deemed unsuitable for children.
Which meant Chrissy was left to listen to old 50s crap and church hymnals. The only time she got to listen to anything exciting was with her father, while he sat in his work shed and she sometimes joined him. Which is how she learned about Dire Straits. Her father sort of knew he wasn't supposed to be listening to that stuff with her or Matty around, but they both knew that it wouldn't just be that Chrissy would get punished for being there, he would be told to trash the radio entirely, so they kept their secrets.
She had plenty of other places to listen to the radio, of course. And, if she brought Nancy or Robin on this little quest, she was sure they'd help. Maybe someone in the Party even had a few of the songs already?
"So no, no purchases," Chrissy said.
Slowly, gathering her courage, she started to float toward the aisles she really needed; metal, rock, and alternative.
Luckily, Cheryl, who liked basically every type of music on the face of the planet, went there first.
"Ooh! Van Halen! This album-,"
"Just came out, right?" Chrissy said, recalling Eddie's note on her playlist.
Cheryl, album tucked under her arm as though she intended to buy it, scrunched her nose in confusion, "How do you know that?" She asked.
Fair question; Van Halen was nothing like Chrissy would listen to, and to know when the albums were coming out was nothing Chrissy had ever shown an aptitude for before. Since she couldn't buy albums, she just sort of experienced music when it played on the radio.
"Overheard it," Chrissy said, shrugging casually.
"Oh. Okay." Cheryl blinked, "Hmm, what area do we need to be in?"
Chrissy took a step back and motioned in the general sense to where they were. Even though she knew Rock specifically was Eddie's genre, she didn't want to narrow it down too much, because then it may be obvious. And besides, if there was some Dark Wave or heavy metal, maybe she could also expand Eddie's tastes?
Or, anything Cheryl suggested that was too far out of bounds, she simply wouldn't use.
"Great!" Cheryl said, "Have your notepad?" She asked. Chrissy fished her Hawkins High stamped mini notepad out of her purse.
"Ready!"
"Let's make some music. Or make a list to listen to some music. Or…well, heck, you get my meaning," Cheryl fist-pumped. She already had a pile she was pulling out, finger scrolling down the titles on the backs of albums like a jukebox flipping through a hundred songs.
As they went through and Chrissy took notes, sometimes jotting down something that sounded like something he might like, she would sometimes give a leaning as to how Cheryl was doing; if he'd already heard it, if she thought he'd hate it, or if she knew he liked it. And she thought she was being careful. Nothing about it, she assumed, that was damning enough to give away more than she was willing, but perhaps she miscalculated. Or maybe Cheryl was smarter than she gave her credit for.
She wasn't sure what tipped her off.
All of a sudden, in between the line between New Wave and Alternative, Cheryl gave a startled gasp like she suddenly had been robbed of her air. Chrissy looked up, confused, and Cheryl just stared at her, jaw unhinged.
"It's…it's…it's Eddie fucking Mun-,"
The remainder of her exclamation was stifled as Chrissy dropped everything to shove one of her hands over Cheryl's mouth, eyes wide as she shook her head and frantically shushed her.
She considered that she could lie, and play it off, but maybe her actions already spoke for her.
And besides, Cheryl had figured it out. It would be terrible of her to laugh it off when Cheryl knew, deep down, from the wicked gleam in her eye, she had it nailed.
"Don't…just…don't…say it out loud, or anything about it, until we get to the car," Chrissy said under her breath, carefully retracting her hand.
It seemed like Cheryl was dying to say something, but tilted her head as she shrugged and pivoted toward the hard rock albums.
They finished quickly; partially because now Chrissy felt like everyone's eyes were on her, and she was worried someone from Hawkins was here, and half because now Cheryl knew precisely what to look for.
Cheryl ended up purchasing three new albums, which made their long perusing seem worth it, and Chrissy had a list of 20 songs to comb through. She had decided to start small, reasonable, at 10 songs on this mix-tape for him.
Once in the car, Cheryl just sat at the driver's side, fingers gripping the steering wheel, eyes vacantly staring ahead.
Maybe she was going to drop it, Chrissy naively hoped? Maybe-,
"I get it," She said and from her tone, Chrissy knew that Cheryl couldn't help it. She had to say something, "Why you wanted to go two towns over. Why it's a secret. He tried to kill you-," At Chrissy's furious face, she hastened to add, "Or, that's what everyone thinks. They'd probably assume it's Stockholm syndrome or something," Cheryl bit her nail carefully, "When did you even…get to know him?"
"We knew him a bit in middle school, remember?"
"Yeah, but," Cheryl shook her hand, dismissing it, "He was an 8th grader and we were stupid 6th graders. I mean, I thought every 8th-grade guy was hot, regardless if they were or not. And they weren't giving us the time of day."
"I…went to buy drugs from him. That's part is true. And he just…saw me. I can't describe it, Cheryl, but I just felt more alive than I had in years. And he's a nice guy, honest."
"So you're with him."
"No," Chrissy pouted, "He's a gentleman, honest. Doesn't want us to get involved. Worried that my coma is messing up my thinking."
"Huh," Was all Cheryl said, "We still planning on getting some dinner before raiding a Blockbuster?"
"I-,"
"Stupid question, you're never hungry. But I am. You can just get a smoothie or something," Cheryl decided and drove them to the little diner on the other side of the town. She got a full meal, whereas Chrissy did just order a smoothie, mostly to appease Cheryl.
She watched Cheryl scarf down the burger she'd ordered and for a second, Chrissy felt a pang. She wished she could do that. Just…eat without counting the calories or worrying if it would come back up or if her mother would notice and say something. She sometimes put her place in others' shoes and wondered if they even knew how lucky they were to live with the parents they did or the mind they had.
"Finish it, please. I'm paying," Cheryl commanded, "Do you know why we stopped being friends for a while?"
"We went our separate ways in high school. It's normal, or so I've heard," Chrissy said, "But we're friends again and that matters. And Jason. You hate Jason."
"Jason was the final wedge, but before that. I guess…well, yeah, but like…specifically," Cheryl asked, loading a fry with a generous amount of ketchup.
Chrissy gave a helpless shrug.
"Do you remember Tommy's birthday party? The one we definitely shouldn't have been at?"
"We snuck out so my mom wouldn't know we were going to a freshman's birthday party, yeah," Chrissy said with a laugh.
"We were nearly freshman, it was summer. But you found someone on cheerleading and were just…gone the whole night," Cheryl said, "And good for you, I mean. You love cheering and you've really done well. But do you want to know what happened to me?"
"Okay…" Chrissy said, slightly worried and concerned.
"Nothing that serious," Cheryl said, clocking her expression, "In the pool, we were all jumping in so close to each other and someone's foot got my shoulder and I went under. I just remember darkness. And then…I woke up sputtering in Tommy's guest room, and he was flipping out. No cops were called, and no 9-1-1 calls. He just carried me off, freaked out. I think I stopped breathing for a second, but no one's really sure."
"Oh my god, I never knew," Chrissy said, her throat catching at the horror of it.
"It was just hush-hush. I don't think Tommy was supposed to be having that pool party, or maybe not so many people. That's not the point. I just remember that I realized that I could keep doing what was expected of me, or I could…do what I wanted." She gave a wide grin, "We know what path I went down."
"It makes total sense. I never hated you, but you just went and did clubs, groups, and stuff I wasn't interested in. But I'm glad you found that solace." Chrissy said with a genuine smile.
"I just…I'm just so confused, Chris."
"About what?"
"Your death story is better than mine. So why the hell are you still with Jason? Why aren't you with Edd…" She looked around, "You know, the guy you actually want to be with? Why aren't you taking every moment so much more seriously and just living, thriving, instead of surviving each day?"
"Because it's not a matter of joining this club over that club, Cheryl. It's complicated." She said with a broken, sad, almost pitying smile. She gave the best-condensed explanation, but Cheryl was not moved into an immediate agreement.
"It seems pretty clear to me. I think you're right. I think 'EM' is a good guy. And you deserve something good," Cheryl said, reaching across the table.
"I know I do."
"Do you?" Cheryl asked, "Seriously, do you?"
"He thinks it's just the near-death experience. That I'm not thinking straight after I kissed him."
"After you…girl!" Cheryl grinned widely, "How long ago was that?"
"Couple weeks."
"Well…" Cheryl waved down a waitress, "Wouldn't you think that's long enough?"
Chrissy frowned, having not actually considered this before. As Cheryl paid, she gave a casual shrug.
"Do what you want to, Chrissy. That's the whole point. I shouldn't have to force you into anything. And I get why you gotta stay with Jason, at least until…until the town gets their heads out of his ass. Or college. Whatever comes first. But you should also be happy."
"Are you encouraging me to…" Chrissy tugged on her purse as they walked back to the car, "You know, be with him while I'm with Jason?"
"If that's what you want, sure," Cheryl said, "I know my moral compass doesn't always point north, but honestly, it seems pretty morally good to me. I think God also would get it." She said, leaning on the side of her car, "All I know is that life is too damn short to not do what you want to do with it, and to not do who you want to do." She added with a wide, tooth grin, "Consequences are excuses and they can all be figured out later. Just, you know, do what I would do if I were you."
"That's basically anything."
Cheryl laughed, admitting to this with a 'guilty' motion of her hands, "That's the idea. Just, uh, consider that part of your birthday gift. My sage advice. Do what you fucking want, fuck who you want, and fuck-off with anyone who tells you otherwise."
"I should get that embroidered somewhere. You're so eloquent," Chrissy teased, "Maybe tattooed across my forehead."
Cheryl turned the car on, "I'll allow you to do that for a small creator's fee. That was pretty good, huh? Ah! That's totally it. I know what I should do after high school," Cheryl agreed with a playful smile, "I should write Hallmark cards."