Chapter Text
Five fucking minutes…
Eddie scowled as he pounded out “Uptown Girl” on the piano that was positioned stage left in the Hawkins High auditorium while Chrissy danced with her partner at center stage in front of the sets of indifferent parents that were seated in the audience.
God, he fucking hated this song and the fact that it only took him five fucking minutes to learn to play Billy Joel’s doo-wop bullshit made him hate it even more. What was even worse was he couldn’t even complain to Chrissy about it. He couldn’t tell her that the song was such insipid, uninspired horse shit that even a toddler could learn to bang it out on the keyboard in five goddamn minutes because if she knew that, she’d probably want to restructure their deal more in her favor and the most fucked up part of it all was that he’d probably give in.
Right now, she could twirl her way over—dressed in her silvery leotard with a sheer pale-pink skirt that floated out from her waist—right up to where he was seated mostly hidden from the audience behind the upright piano and tell him their deal wasn’t fair and then demand more from him. More songs, more time at the piano, more whatever and he’d say okay. He’d nod his fucking head and tell her he would be her good boy for twenty-two days instead of twenty-two hours and learn to play a million shitty pop songs and as much as he would hate it, it would be worth it to him as long as he could watch her dance.
Because when she danced, she looked so… free. Kinda like when he cajoled her into saying all those naughty words that a good girl like her shouldn’t say. Only right now there was no coaxing, nothing profane in her sacredness. She was purely and effortlessly free.
And as much as he hated this stupid fucking song, he almost didn’t want it to end. He almost didn’t want to hit that final cord so that she would keep on dancing, but if there was anything that life had taught him, it’s that all things must end.
So Eddie hit that final cord and Chrissy and her partner struck an ending pose and the recital’s audience erupted into applause… well, it was actually less of an eruption and more a smattering of tired claps from parents that obviously had no interest in watching someone else’s kid dance. Kind of like the reception he got at the middle school talent show, but it hadn’t mattered to him back then because she had clapped for him backstage all those years ago, kind of like how he was clapping for her from behind the piano right now.
Chrissy snuck a peek at Eddie over her shoulder. Just a momentary look as she breathed heavily, her cheeks flushed from exertion, and then she smiled.
She’d been smiling all through her dance routine, but it was that forced smile that all dancers had to plaster on their faces. But this smile, the one that she gave him now, it was different. It was complete. It wasn’t just on her mouth, but in her eyes and across her entire face, but as quickly as she smiled at him, her head turned to face the parents whose lackluster applause had faded even before Chrissy and her partner made their final bows and exited stage right from the school’s auditorium.
Eddie ducked behind the curtain at the opposite side of the stage and moved quickly through the props that were stacked up haphazardly backstage. He hurdled over and ducked under the labyrinth of props and scenery as quickly as he could because he needed to catch up with Chrissy. He wanted to reach her before her parents could whisk her away from him before he had a chance to talk to her, just like they had done back in junior high.
As soon as he vaulted over the final obstacle, he burst out of the backstage doors and into the mostly deserted hallway. A smile spread across his face when he spotted her standing next to the big orange Coleman water jug on the refreshments table. She was holding one of those waxy dixie cups that she’d occasionally take sips from as she talked to… whatever the fuck her partner’s name was.
Eddie started to jog towards her but quickly stopped himself. He could walk. She wasn’t going anywhere and he wasn’t some fucking lovesick fool or some sad little puppy that needed someone to love him.
He took a deep breath and let it out before he sauntered at an easy pace towards her. Looking her up and down. From her perfect chignon held in place by sparkly barrettes to her 86 pendant that hung daintily against her collarbone to in her pretty dance leotard that really highlighted how cold it was in the hallway.
Holy fuck, he could stare all day at her perfect breasts and her perky nipples that were pressed against the shimmering fabric of her scoop neck top. God, he wanted to hoist her up in his arms so he could wrap his lips around—
“Eddie!”
He looked up quickly when Chrissy squealed his name and launched herself at him. He caught her without a moment to spare, and her momentum sent both of them spinning. Him holding her around her waist—not quite in the way he had just been fantasizing about, but beggars can’t be choosers—and her arms wrapped around his shoulders. Her heated, sweaty cheek pressed against his neck as she murmured, “Thank you, Eddie,” into his hair.
“You’re welcome,” he closed his eyes and smiled at the feeling of her warm frame pressed against his, not wanting to put her down or let go, but he knew he had to. He could feel all the eyes of the good people of Hawkins on the two of them.
He set Chrissy back down on her feet and pulled back, but kept his hands on her hips… but not for any particular reason…
She kept her hands around his neck, fingers interlaced, locking her in place as though someone might try to pry them apart. She smiled at him, her eyes sparkling as she breathed out, “The song was perfect. I knew you were the best.”
“Yeah, well…” his face heated up as a goofy smile that he couldn’t seem to wipe off spread across his stupid fucking face. Just like how he couldn’t seem to stop his eyes from roaming from her big blue eyes that gazed into his, down to her lips that were parted and coated in a layer of pink gloss that she quickly licked as he leaned towards her and…
What in the actual fuck are you doing!?
He stopped moving because he didn’t want to fuck this up. This thing they had. This friendship that he could potentially ruin by kissing the queen of everything in front of everyone especially when she obviously didn’t want to be kissed by him, the fucking king of the freaks and losers, what with the way her fingers unwove and dropped down from his neck to his shoulders as he stepped back from her.
“And you…” he took a breath and another step back, “You were great. You were…” he shut his mouth and smiled before he called her beautiful or anything equally revealing and instead asked, “So… was my playing worth the twenty-four hours?”
“Maybe…” She got a sly smile as she hummed thoughtfully, “But it all depends on what you’re gonna have me do.”
“Nothing too rough,” his smiled grew crooked, “Nothing you can’t handle.”
“It better not be,” she smirked back, “Otherwise, I might have to get rough with you—”
Her eyes went wide and her voice cut off after saying the wonderful double entendre that made his crooked smile grow into a grin as he drawled, “Aw Cunningham, the truth is that I like it when you’re rough with me.”
“Then I’ll umm, I’ll be nice to you,” she stuttered out before looking down at her hands that she now nervously clutched together in front of her waist.
“You’re so mean, Chrissy,” he huffed a laugh, trying so fucking hard to be nonchalant so she wouldn’t be nervous around him and get so freaked out about their deal that she’d break it and run away from him and then would never speak to him again.
She remained silent as she chewed on the inside of her lip, still looking down at her hands…
Shit… He needed to fix this. Bring out the hellcat in her…
“Sooo… are you gonna be nice to me the whole fourteen hours that I’m gonna owe you?” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans so his fingers wouldn’t tap nervously against his leg as he waited to see if his plan worked.
And a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth when she looked up with fire in her eyes and reminded him, “Don’t you mean twenty hours?”
“Twenty, fourteen… What’s the difference?” He snorted and was rewarded by an indignant snort of her own and her mumbling something under her breath that he couldn’t quite hear other than the word “weasel”.
“Cunningham!” He gasped as he clutched his non-existent pearls in mock horror, “Are you insinuating that I’m gonna try to weasel out of this deal?”
“No,” she laughed as her own smile spread across her face, “I’m not insinuating anything. I’m fully accusing you of weaseling.”
“Oh Cunningham,” he chuckled, “I’m gonna make you regret besmirching me like that.”
“Insinuate and besmirch?” she laughed again, “When did you learn those words?”
“Today,” he smirked back, “Got a word-of-the-day calendar.”
“Really?” Her eyes sparkled.
“Nah,” he reluctantly admitted, “But I do have a calendar that tells me that you are going to be very busy this Saturday and Sunday, from noon to noon, young lady.”
Her brow knitted, so he reminded her, “I’m calling in my twenty-four hours.”
“Wow!” her eyes went wide, “So soon?”
“Yup,” he popped the p.
“So, what am I doing?” she asked but quickly added, “But keep in mind that my parents will never let me spend the night at your house.”
“That’s fine because you’re gonna spend the night in Chicago.”
“What!?” her eyes went wide.
“Corroded Coffin has a gig opening up for a show at a club in the windy city and you’re gonna be our roadie.”
“I’m gonna… what!?” her mouth gaped open.
“Yup,” he grinned at her, “You’re gonna haul equipment and help us set up and—”
“Haul equipment!?” her face still locked in incredulity.
“Unless you don’t think you’re strong enough,” he smirked and it grew as he watched her eyes narrow at the challenge.
“I am strong enough,” she set her jaw and crossed her arms across her chest defiantly.
“I mean,” he gave her a condescending smile that he just knew would get her blood boiling, “You probably think that you can lift a lot, but—What the fuck!?"
Before he could finish pissing her off, Chrissy squatted down and wrapped her arms around his waist and hoisted him up off his feet. His heart pounded at the sight of her glared up at him as she carried him across the hallway before depositing him back down on his feet and repeating her declaration, “I am strong enough.”
“Yeah, I guess you are,” he huffed a laugh, hoping that he could breathe out the butterflies that were excitedly swirling around in his gut and that some of his blood that had migrated to his crotch at the feeling of being manhandled by her would return to his brain.
“Yup,” she popped the “p” dramatically through her smug smile. Her hands on her hips like fucking Wonder Woman.
“But…” his sly smile returned, “Can you do all that while you’re wearing your cheer uniform?”
“What?” her brow knitted, “Of course I can. It’s not like it’s…” all expression dropped off her face as she realized, “No, Eddie! No… No, I’m not gonna wear my cheer uniform to—”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s—”
“Perverted?” he asked with a smile that he knew had to be pissing her off with the way her eyes narrowed. “Are you saying that the cheer uniform that you wear to games to cheer on the Tigers—”
“Go Tigers,” she said under her breath and his smile grew from her automatic reaction that had been drilled into her from four years of cheering at this shitty school, but he wasn’t going to let any of the adorable things that she did deter him from his point.
“So, are you saying that your cheerleader uniform is perverted? Because if it is—”
“No…” she sighed and rolled her eyes, “I’m not saying that…”
He raised his brow at her and felt a smirk spread across his face as she conceded with another, even more defeated sigh, “It’s not perverted.”
“Well, I’m glad that we’re in agreement about that because you’re gonna be wearing it for 24-hours.”
“Eddie…” she let out yet another sigh, but this one was more a long, exasperated sigh, “I can’t wear it that long. It’s not that comfortable. It’s polyester and not very breathable and… well, after a while it gets itchy.”
“Oh… um…” He hadn’t considered that. He can’t have her be uncomfortable. “Okay, wear it for the drive up to Chicago and when we’re all setting up and while you’re watching us play—"
“From backstage,” she gave him a pointed look, “I am not going to wear it out in a club in Chicago, Eddie. I’m putting my foot down on that.”
“Okay, backstage then,” he smiled because he thought for sure that she’d fight him tooth and nail not to wear the uniform at all so six hours was better than nothing.
“Okay, but there’s another problem,” she crossed her arms across her chest, “Remember how I just told you that my parents would never let me go and spend the night with a guy? Well, they’re really not going to let me go to Chicago and spend the night with a whole bunch of guys.”
“Ah, see, I’ve already thought about that,” he grinned, “You’re going to tell your folks that you’re going to spend the night with Nancy Wheeler.”
“What?” her eyes narrowed, “Nancy? The person who witnessed our deal, Nancy?”
“Yup.”
“I can’t… involve her in a lie—”
“But you won’t be lying,” he held up his finger as he made his point, “Because she’s going too.”
“She is?”
“Yup, you know Jonathan Byers?”
She nodded because everyone knew him. Byers might not have had many friends, but when you’re the photographer for the school newspaper and the yearbook, everyone knows exactly who you are.
“Well, Nancy’s going out with him and he’s coming with us to photograph the show.”
“Wow…” Chrissy’s eyes grew wide and excited, “Really!? He’s gonna photograph you guys? It’s like you’re rock stars already.”
“Yeah,” he couldn’t help but be drawn in by her awe even though the truth was a little less awe inspiring. And as much as he wanted to live in her awe, the fucking truth somehow slipped out of his stupid mouth, “Well, not really. The truth is he’s going to photograph some other band for some punk zine he’s working on and we’re not exactly punk, but he said he’d take a few pictures of us in exchange for a ride since his rust bucket won’t make the trip, so…” he shrugged.
“Still…” her eyes sparkled as her smile grew, “It’s kinda cool.”
“Really?” he bit his lip to get all of his weirdly giddy, hopeful feelings in check before the cold hand of reality smacked him in the face.
“Yeah,” she nodded, still smiling, still making him all hopeful…
“But anyways,” he sucked his teeth as he stuffed his hope back in its cage and slammed the cage door and then got back to business, “Nancy’s coming too. They’re gonna ride with me, or I guess with all of us.”
“Wait, doesn’t Nancy have a car?”
“It’s her mom’s car and apparently her and Jonathan kinda took an unsanctioned road trip before so… yeah, her car is out of the running,” he grimaced and Chrissy mirrored him, but then he smiled, “Anyways, this is where the two of you use each other as alibis. Each of you will claim to be staying at each other’s houses and bing, bang, boom, you’re both off to Chicago with both sets of parents none the wiser.”
“Okay…” she bit her lip, “But… where are we actually going to sleep?”
“Jonathan and Nancy know a guy there, Murray something…” he scrunched up his face when he couldn’t remember the guy’s last name, but then again, did it really matter? “He’s got a small place, but on a big lot with a fence and gate, so we’ll sleep in the van while those two sleep inside.”
Chrissy’s brow knitted.
Shit…
He chewed on the inside of his lip as he watched her silently think and he just knew that this had to be a deal breaker. Sleeping in the same place as him, in his van, was probably the last straw. It was the weird, perverted thing that went too far.
But it wasn’t like he was gonna do anything with her… Well, he wasn’t gonna try anything with her. Now, if she tries something with him, then fuck yeah, he’s gonna do something with her! But…
Shit, she’s been quiet for a while.
Shit…
Chrissy finally broke her silence to ask, “Will we have access to a bathroom?”
“Umm, yeah, probably… I think…”
“I just…” she scrunched up her nose, “I don’t wanna pee outside if I don’t have too, you know?”
“Yeah,” he smiled as he let out a breath of relief, “Same with me.”
She smiled back and then her brow knitted as she thought out loud, “Okay, so I’ll need to bring a sleeping bag and… We’ll get back by noon on Sunday?”
“Yeah,” he nodded and tried like hell not to excitedly bounce up and down on his toes but then a stern voice echoing down the hall drew both of their attention.
“Chrissy!?”
They both looked down towards the end of the hall, to a tall man with slumped shoulders who stood next to a humorless looking woman with a severe hairstyle who had called Chrissy’s name.
“Those are my parents,” Chrissy looked down at her hands that she was wringing together.
He nodded and even though Chrissy wasn’t looking at him, she nodded back.
“I have’ta go…”
“Okay…” he nodded again and looked down the hall at the woman who was tapping her foot and checking her watch dramatically, but then Chrissy’s voice drew his attention back to her.
“Oh shoot, if we’re not back before noon,” she frowned and her voice got quiet as though she was thinking out loud. “That means I’m gonna have to tell them that I’m gonna miss church and she might get weird about it.”
“Yeah,” he sighed dramatically and tried not to smile as he told her, “Missing that one, single day of church is gonna be your ticket straight to hell, young lady.”
He lost his war with his mouth and smiled as she looked up at him with the corners of her mouth twitching upward. He leaned closer to her as though he was telling her a secret and said in a low voice, “But don’t worry, I’ll save you a seat.”
“Shut up, Eddie,” she giggled quietly but then her smile fell off her face when she turned and walked away towards her frowning mother and slouching father.