Chapter Text
No amount of Dungeons and Dragons roleplaying could have prepared Eddie for the absurdity of the situation he found himself in. Despite the many outrageous stories he’d played in and the countless fantasies he’d crafted, reality put his imagination to shame. It had never crossed his mind that he’d be sitting in the middle of the woods on the outskirts of school with Chrissy Cunningham–let alone selling her drugs there.
He also didn’t expect his middle school crush on her to rear its head so strongly, but there it was.
He tried not to notice as she shifted on the wood bench of the picnic table. But he was keenly aware of her in front of him. Her knee bounced and she fidgeted with her hands as Eddie named his price for a half ounce of weed. He knew she wouldn’t notice how little he was actually asking for, but he couldn’t help but give her some special treatment, even if she didn’t know it.
To say she wasn’t his usual clientele was an understatement. She was the “Queen of Hawkins High”, a cheerleader in the popular crowd, dating the star basketball player. She was the prototypical good girl and he was the outcast freak who couldn’t pass Mrs. O'Donnell's math class. It was understood that their paths should never cross.
A loud scuttling sound from the trees behind her made her jump, not for the first time that afternoon.
Eddie closed the metal lunch pail in front of him and pulled it towards himself. This wasn’t going to work.
“Hey. We don’t need to do this. Just give me the word and I’ll walk away.” He couldn’t meet her eyes. She was clearly too nervous to be buying drugs. Too nervous to be out here alone with him. He wasn’t sure what else he expected.
“No, it’s not that. I don’t want you to go.” She said it so quickly, he nearly didn’t hear the last part. He looked back up at her as put the pail down on the bench beside him, too intrigued to deny her. Besides, a sale was a sale and he could use the cash. And maybe an excuse to stick around a little longer.
She looked down at the table in front of them, not meeting his eyes, and rubbed her hand nervously over the wood. “Do you ever feel like… you’re losing your mind?”
He inclined his head and looked at her with curiosity, trying to understand the version of Chrissy in front of him. She wasn’t what he expected. Around the school, she was happy and confident, securely above the rest of the freaks, band kids, and nerds. She would practically skip down the hallway with her fellow cheerleaders or with Jason’s arm slung over her shoulders. The girl in front of him was anything but that bubbly girl, she was tense and nervous and unsure of herself. And apparently not because of him, which he couldn’t help but admit was a relief. He felt his shoulders loosen, just slightly. She didn’t want him to leave, but that only made the situation he found himself in weirder. He wasn’t sure what kind of Twilight Zone episode he found himself in and wasn’t looking forward to the reveal.
While he embraced being Eddie “The Freak” Munson–wore it as a badge of honor, even threw it in everyone’s face in the cafeteria–something about being out in the woods with Chrissy made him feel vulnerable. A chink in his armour. In a crowd, he could entertain, but one on one, he felt like he was under a microscope. Her question threw him a little. He was prepared for the telltale sting of a popular girl’s venom but instead was met with a girl quietly trusting him. With what he wasn’t sure.
“Uh…” He considered how honest to be. “You know, just… on a daily basis.” He smiled at the absurdity of this conversation. “Y’know, I feel like I’m losing my mind right now doing a drug deal with Chrissy Cunningham, the Queen of Hawkins High.”
He tapped his rings against the table smiling sardonically as she looked at him with some embarrassed amusement.
“You know, this isn’t the first time that we’ve, um… hung out.” He began nervously fiddling with his rings now, awaiting her reaction. Trying not to panic as the words escaped his mouth. Why was he bringing up this story of all things?
“No?” she said, decidedly confused.
“You don’t remember?” He braced himself for as much, but was a little disappointed all the same.
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, I–” He cut her off, not wanting to embarrass her.
“That’s okay,” he said gently.
And then he was on the ground.
Chrissy yelled out in shock watching him mime an arrow to the heart and throw himself back violently to the dirt below.
“I wouldn’t remember me either, Chrissy,” he called out as he stumbled back to his feet. He was in performance mode again, putting on a show, using his usual theatrics to entertain and distract her from her evident discomfort. He couldn't help himself and was delighted to hear her laugh in response.
“Honestly, do I have stuff in my hair?” he asked facetiously, pawing at the leaves in his unruly hair. Her entire demeanor shifted–no longer nervous and uncomfortable, a bubbly laugh escaped her grinning mouth. Like the chime of bells.
“You don’t remember me?” he couldn’t help but ask again with genuine curiosity, arms crossed as he leaned forward towards her, pulled in once more by her. Like a moth to the flame, he was drawn in.
“I’m sorry,” she laughed good-naturedly.
“Middle school, talent show.” He prompted. “You were doing this cheer thing. You know, the… the thing you do.” He mimed the moves pitifully and he was treated once more to her laughter. He couldn’t help but reminisce on the past, alluding a little too closely to how long he’d noticed her. Her laughter ringing out did nothing to dissuade him. “It was pretty cool, actually. And I… I was with my band.”
“Corroded Coffin!” she called out suddenly.
Eddie moved in excitement, clapping his hands and turning in a quick circle before pointing back at her, thrilled. “You do remember!”
“Oh my god! Yes, of course! With a name like that, how could I forget?”
“I dunno. You’re a freak,” he smiled, repurposing the word usually hurled against him. Just to see how she would react. Just to make sure this wasn’t a dream, that she was being genuine. It was part defense mechanism, part compliment, even if she didn’t know it.
She struggled with a retort. “No, you just…. You looked so–”
He cut her off. “Different? Yeah. Well, uh, my hair was buzzed and I didn’t have these sweet old tatties yet.” He pulled down the collar of his shirt to emphasize the point, providing a glimpse at the ink on his collar and chest.
“You played guitar, right?”
“Uh-huh. Still do.” He looked back up at her. “Still do,” he repeated, pleased she remembered and perhaps a little proud of himself. He hesitated a little before taking a chance. “You should come see us. Uh, we play at the Hideout on Tuesdays. It’s pretty cool. We actually get a crowd of about five… drunks.”
Another laugh. Eddie felt like his insides were melting.
“It’s not exactly the Garden, but you gotta get started somewhere, right? So…” He casually turned around and began lightly punching the tree behind him, just to find something to occupy his hands. This drug deal turned nostalgia trip with Chrissy Cunningham of all people was giving Eddie a lot of nervous energy–more so than usual. And his awkward attempt at inviting her out to see his band did not elicit an immediate response, which only added to his nerves.
“You know, you’re not what I thought you’d be like,” Chrissy noted, still smiling.
Eddie turned back toward her and pulled a lock of hair in front of his face. “Mean and scary?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
He approached the picnic bench again. “Yeah, well, I actually thought you’d be kinda mean and scary, too,” he confided. Lord knows everyone else in her circle would assume the worst in him and treat him like dirt under their pristine white shoes. As was the natural order of high school after all.
“Me?” she whispered back, eyes wide.
“Terrifying,” he joked. She simply smiled back at him. He was growing a little too used to her laughter and easy smiles, it was going to spoil him, he knew.
“Uh, so, in other good news, flattery works with me, so…” He pulled his lunch pail back onto the table and opened it up. Now that he’d set her at ease, he brought them back to the original task at hand. “Twenty-five percent discount for the half.” He pulled out the bag again and placed it in front of her.
“FIfteen bucks. You’re robbing me blind here, you know,” he joked again with a smile, trying to keep the mood light, not wanting Chrissy to return to the on-edge state she was in before. And perhaps trying, in vain, to flirt with her. Just a little.
But she still didn’t seem sure about the whole thing, her smile and laughter dimmed back to anxiety. He thought maybe she was going to call the deal off after all as she stared at the table and considered her words before responding. “Do you have anything… maybe… stronger?”
Eddie did in fact have something stronger than weed, but he certainly never brought it to school. The cause of her nerves was more than just the chance they were caught, he realized. She wasn’t scared because of the drugs, she needed the drugs because she was scared. What could queen Chrissy possibly need drugs to escape from?
“Are you sure?” he asked, genuinely concerned. He knew he had some Special K stashed somewhere, but weed was his bread and butter when it came to dealing. It was simple and easy and low risk. The ketamine was a bit dicier. Not only for him to sell, but for her to take.
She nodded, vigorously.
Meeting Chrissy Cunnginham surreptitiously in the woods outside of school was one thing. To meet her in the dark after a huge basketball game amongst crowds of people, including her boyfriend, was a little nerve-wracking to say the least. Eddie stayed behind after the Hellfire Club, not abnormal since he needed to pack up his shit and the rest of the club were all too hyped about defeating Vecna and completing the campaign to care.
He’d never had a girl in his van, he realized belatedly as he sat waiting at the back of the parking lot. He scrambled to make sure there was nothing gross or embarrassing directly in view. He threw a bunch of soda cans from the footwell of the passenger’s seat to the back along with other miscellaneous trash that always collected there. He tossed cigarette buts and ashes from the makeshift ashtray he kept in a cup holder out the driver’s side window. That was as good as it was gonna get. There was nothing he could do about the stench of weed and cigarettes. But being a low-level drug dealer, he figured that came with the territory.
As the sun began to set, Chrissy emerged from the gym doors, her arms crossed against the slight chill of the evening air. She still looked nervous, looking over her shoulder every few steps until she reached the passenger’s side of his van.
He gave her a reassuring smile when she climbed into the seat and started the engine. His music immediately came blaring through the stereo, making Chrissy jump. He chuckled lightly and turned it down, but left it on. It wouldn’t hurt to drown out the inevitable awkward silence with some tunes. Besides, Eddie needed the distraction to channel his own nervousness.
He nodded along to the music, tapping his hands on the steering wheel in time with the drums, and Chrissy fidgeted the whole way, seeming distracted. Thankfully the drive was short.
He parked quickly and carelessly in front of the trailer and hopped out of the van.
“This is, uh, my castle.” If he’d paid more attention in Spanish class, maybe he would have remembered the right phrase to use. She smiled anyway, but held her arms awkwardly in front of herself. He led Chrissy up the steps and opened the door for her, letting her enter ahead of him. He was a gentlemanly drug dealer if anything.
“Sorry for the mess,” he said, collecting trash and an empty beer can from the countertop. “The maid took the week off.” He gave a sardonic smile, knowing this wasn’t her idea of a proper home and knowing her family could probably actually afford a maid. And covering for his own embarrassment.
She looked around with interest at the shelves of mugs lining the walls of the trailer and the collection of hats hanging around them.
“You, um... You live here alone?” she asked.
“With my uncle,” he corrected, “But, uh, he works nights at the plant.” He began rifling through the drawers outside the kitchen, pulled out a canister of bandaids he’d used to stash drugs and opened it. “Bringing home the big bucks.” Empty. He tossed it back in the drawer.
“How long does it take?”
“Sorry?” he asked, distracted as he continued to sort through the drawer.
“The Special K. How long to kick-in?” She was still nervous, unsure of herself.
“Oh, uh, well… It depends if you snort it or not,” he explained. “Uh, if you do, then, yeah, it’ll kick-in pretty quick.” He chuckled and opened another container. Empty. “Oh, shit,” he muttered.
“You’re sure you have it?” Chrissy asked, concerned.
“No, no, no, I got it,” he reassured her quickly, with false confidence. “Um, somewhere.” He wasn’t known for his organizational skills. He looked around briefly, considering where else he might have stashed it and turned around quickly toward his bedroom.
After a fond greeting to his beloved guitar, he continued his search and soon enough found the bag of white powder buried deep in his dresser.
“Peaceful bliss just moments away,” he called out to her, exiting his room.
He spotted her on the floor, arms wrapped around her knees, her breathing erratic as she stared ahead. Fear was etched on her face.
"Chrissy?" She didn't respond, but he could hear her panicked breaths and saw the rapid rise and fall of her shoulders.
In three quick strides he was by her side, hand on her shoulder.
"Hey, it's okay. Chrissy, look at me."
He tried to snap her out of it, pulling her focus to him instead of whatever was going on in her head.
"I can't– I can't do this– It’s too much, everything– I just want–." He couldn't make much meaning of her fragmented thoughts, but he heard enough to understand he was right that she wanted an escape.
"It's okay, just breathe." He tried to be reassuring and not let panic seep into his voice too.
With one hand on her shoulder and another holding hers, he steadied his breath and held her gaze, encouraging her to follow suit.
Her eyes were still wide with panic and wet with tears and greener than anything, but at least her face wasn’t crumpled in fear. Slowly, her breathing evened as he continued to speak to her, distract from whatever thoughts were spiraling in her head.
“I’m sorry,” she hiccuped, her breathing mostly back to normal.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’ve had my fair share of panic attacks. No shame here.” He considered her as she continued to calm her breathing. “Not to shoot myself in the foot here, but I don’t think I should be selling this to you. Not after that.”
She looked embarrassed now.
"Look, I don't know your situation or whatever is going on, and I understand wanting an escape but I don't think this is gonna help, not really."
She nodded, still getting her breathing under control. “No, I know. You’re right.”
“I may be a drug dealer and not a shrink, but I swear I’m a good listener. If you, y’know, want to talk about it.” He hurriedly added, “If not, I can drive you home.”
She immediately shook her head. "No. No, I don't want to go home."
Eddie nodded. With parents like his, he understood that feeling all too well.
"Let me get you some water," he offered. As he stood, he held out a hand to Chrissy. She looked up at him, with wide green eyes still wet from her tears and took his hand with a small smile, clearly still embarrassed but grateful.
His hands enveloped hers and Eddie was startled by the pressure he felt in his chest in response, the spark that ignited in him when their hands met. He held Chrissy’s eyes as he pulled her up and saw something in her wide-eyed gaze he couldn’t quite identify. He let go of her hand and turned away with a tight swallow.
Water in hand, they sat on either end of his old, lumpy couch. With a variety of unidentifiable stains and a loose spring or two, it had seen better days, but Chrissy made no complaints.
“So… Does that happen often?” he hedged.
Chrissy shifted, staring down into the glass of water in front of her. “Sometimes. More and more lately. It’s… I just have a lot going on, y’know? Between school and graduating and college, and home. And then there’s Jason and…” she faded off. Eddie wasn’t sure he wanted to know what was going on with her and Jason. But school he could relate to.
He gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “Yeah, I know just how difficult graduating can be.” College wasn’t in the cards for him, he knew that, not with his GPA and the previous two attempts to finally leave Hawkins High. His transcripts were not college-worthy.
“It’s like there’s just all of this pressure on every aspect of my life. I can’t escape it, I feel like I’m suffocating and then… well, you saw,” she shrugged.
“Have you, uh… talked to anyone else about it?”
“Just Ms. Kelley. It got really bad after cheer practice last week, so my coach made me go talk to her. I’m not sure it’s helping yet.”
“Well, if there’s anything I can do…” He trailed off, not sure exactly what he had to offer, but offering all the same.
“Thanks.” She gave him a small smile before looking back down at the glass of water. In the silence that followed, she looked up and around at the trailer again, noting all the mugs.
“Where are these all from anyway?” she asked.
“My uncle is a bit of a collector, he loves novelty mugs and putting them on display.” Eddie rolled his eyes good-naturedly as he waved his hands around at all the shelves surrounding the living room. “Any city he’s visited, he’s bought a souvenir mug. A few I painted as a kid.” He smiled as he said the last part, the warmth in his voice telling Chrissy all she needed to know about their relationship.
“That’s really sweet. My parents never displayed anything I made as a kid, not even on the fridge.” She laughed, but there wasn't much humor in it.
Sensing an opportunity to distract her from all the demons haunting her, Eddie grabbed an absurd mug off the shelf by the door. “This one is my favourite.”
It was milk white glass with colourful stripes and a bright yellow sun. On the front was Snoopy from the Peanuts skateboarding. She laughed and called it ‘rad’ in a tone that told Eddie she’d never called anything rad before in her life.
This led Chrissy to get off the couch and examine the mugs more closely, each of them pointing out their favourites. Eddie showed her the one he would always leave out for Santa every Christmas, full to the brim with milk. It was appropriately Christmas themed with Garfield the cat wearing an old-fashioned sleep shirt and hat, tucked into his bed. The text on the other side read “Do not open until Christmas”. Chrissy particularly liked the mug with an orange tabby cat on it, its tail becoming the handle.
Eddie told her about the notable towns and tourist traps some of the mugs were from, like the Brooks Catsup Bottle mug his uncle found in Collinsville, Illinois where the world’s largest ketchup bottle sits on Route 159 or the one shaped like an ear of corn he got in Mitchell, South Dakota, a town that celebrated all things corn, renowned for being home of the Corn Palace.
The one sculpted and painted to look like denim was particularly befuddling to Chrissy.
“Who would want to drink out of a pair of jeans?”
She was also disturbed by one shaped like a green bell pepper, with a menacing smile on its face. Eddie admitted he avoided eye contact with that one.
“I swear its eyes follow me.”
Eventually, Chrissy finished her water and her curfew fast approached. Eddie offered once more to drive her home and this time she accepted.
The drive was much less awkward than the previous, though still quiet, save for Eddie’s music and Chrissy’s occasional directions. As they approached Chrissy’s neighbourhood, Eddie felt some tension rise in his chest. The cracked pothole roads and worn lawns of his side of town slowly faded into the cultivated gardens and literal white-picket fences of Chrissy’s.
It was fully dark by now, but Eddie couldn’t help but feel self-conscious of his van and his own appearance driving it in a suburb that he clearly did not belong in. He shifted slightly in his seat and adjusted his hands on the steering wheel.
Chrissy cleared her throat a little. “My house is up ahead.” She pointed a couple houses down. “But you can just pull over here.”
Eddie pulled the van over the side of the road and turned off the ignition, all too aware of how loud the engine was on the quiet street.
Chrissy climbed out and paused at the open door. “I’m… sorry about all of this today. I’m sure it’s not how you expected to spend your night.”
“It was nothing, really. Anytime.” He tried to play it cool, but he was certain it wasn’t working.
She smiled shyly. “Thank you, then.”
“Goodnight, Chrissy.”
“Goodnight.”
She closed the door and walked carefully but quickly to the house two driveways down. She turned back towards Eddie before unlocking the door with an expression he couldn’t read.
Eddie stayed parked until she walked in the house and then made his way home, back to his trailer alone for the rest of the evening. Somehow not even the lure of Spring Break starting could shake Eddie from the bittersweet feeling slipping under his skin.
