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Chrissy shows up with tears in her eyes, a bag of homemade cookies, and the words, “I’m so sorry, Eddie.”
It takes him by surprise, honestly. His face still aches from where Jason had slammed his fist right below his eye socket, turning it into a dark, puffy circle that is still swollen a day later.
“Whoa, hey, what for?” What does he do here? Crying girl, with cookies, looking at him like she was the one who punched him in the face. He doesn’t have anything close to this in his little box of encounters.
“I-if I hadn’t asked you to sell to me, he w-wouldn’t have h-hit you.” She’s hiccuping on the words, and it sounds awful.
“Hey, hey, no,” he says as he waves her in. “Jason would have socked me in the face just for breathing, ya know?” He tries to make it a joke, but it makes her cry harder. Whoops, shit. Eddie’s panic grows, but he pushes it down, his need to stop Chrissy’s crying stronger.
“Here, sit.” He leads her to the Munson family couch, which is actually a loveseat he and Wayne had shoved in his van after finding it discarded outside of an apartment complex. It had smelled a bit like cat piss and had a few tears, but they’d taken it to Wayne’s workplace and used an industrial cleaner on it. Once deemed to no longer be a health hazard, they’d taken it home, and Eddie had spent three hours carefully patching the holes with scraps of his old clothes until it was a patchwork of band names and silly patterns on the faded grey suede.
In her name-brand jeans and varsity jacket, Chrissy looks very out of place on it.
“Let me get you some water,” he says as he quickly rushes into his kitchen. Her eyes follow Eddie as he tries to find the least stained or chipped mug. He fills it with water from the fridge, the old pitcher containing boiled water, because, honestly, the trailer’s water isn’t the best straight out of the tap.
“Here you go,” Eddie says as he returns and hands it to her. Chrissy takes it in shaking hands, and takes a deep drink. “There ya go,” he murmurs as he squats next to her, hands attempting to choke one another, so he doesn’t do something dumb, like put his hand on her thigh.
Chrissy gives a little gasp when she finishes drinking; her tears have slowed, but a couple leak out now and again.
“Hey,” Eddie says softly as he reaches for the handkerchief hanging from his back pocket. It is freshly washed, and unlike the ones littering his bedroom floor, doesn’t smell like the oil he uses on his fretboard. “It’s okay.” He dabs gently at her cheeks, careful with the coarse fabric on her face.
“I-I should be the one comforting you,” she replies, though she smiles, and her little hiccups are almost gone.
“Yeah, and why is that?” He grins up at her as he drops his arm, the handkerchief damp in his hands as he tries to strangle it with his nervous energy.
“Because you’re the one who’s hurt.” She reaches out tentatively, her fingers the barest touch beneath his black eye.
“This?” Eddie scoffs with a smile. “That’s nothing—just some trapped blood. I’m lucky enough that it’ll go away. Jason’s personality, though…” he makes an overly comedic hissing inhale through his teeth, face pulled into an exaggerated grimace.
Chrissy giggles, and Eddie’s heart goes a little goopy in his chest.
“I know,” she replies, wiping under her eyes with her jacket. Eddie sees the slightest smear of her eyeliner. He absently thinks she’d look good in punk make-up before he forces himself to listen. “He’s so…awful.” Her hands clench the top of the cookie bag, and Eddie wonders if he should try to stop the dismemberment taking place in front of him. He decides that cookies are cookies, whether in crumbs, a circle, or anything in between, and he lets her fingers break a few of the little buggers.
“And I knew he was awful, but I still- I still-” She chokes up again, and Eddie worries the floodgates are about to open again.
“Hey, hey,” he says as he tries to catch her eye. “Yeah, he is, but that doesn’t make you awful.”
“But I was with him for so long,” she whispers. “He was so mean to so many people, and I just sat by and watched it happen.” The tears are silent this time, dripping slowly from her cheeks.
“Hey, there’s still ti—” Eddie’s brain skips like a record. “Wait, did you say ‘was’?”
Chrissy looks up and nods at him, her eyes rimmed red.
“After I heard what he did, it was like…like a switch flipped.” She rubs under her eyes again, smudging the makeup a touch more. “He went after you for something I did. He kept saying you corrupted me and that you deserved it; that you were bad, and I just- I just couldn’t take it.” She looks down at the cookie bag. “I slapped him,” she whispers.
Eddie’s jaw falls. “No.”
She nods, her lower lip sucked between her teeth.
“Why Miss Cunningham,” Eddie whispers. “Maybe I was right to be scared of you in the woods.”
Chrissy laughs, a full, cheery sound as she looks at Eddie. Her whole face is lit up.
“Look at that roguish smile,” he continues as he stands. “It can entrap even the most wicked of men.”
“Eddie,” she giggles. His name sounds almost beautiful in her twinkling tonality.
“But really,” he says, strands of hair twisted between his fingers. “That’s pretty metal. Like, seriously. I wouldn’t have the balls to slap Jason.” Punch him, yes, but he doesn’t say that.
Chrissy blushes slightly.
“Well, now you don’t have to,” she replies. “Because I did it for you. And he’ll be sporting his own bruise for the next few days.”
“No,” Eddie whispers. “You got him that hard?”
“Oh, um,” she blushes harder, her body shrinking slightly into her jacket. “I-I may have hit him with my class ring.”
Eddie grabs at the dividing wall between the kitchen and living area. It’s partially for the dramatic effect, but also because, holy shit. “You didn’t just slap Jason, you backhanded him?” His voice is a stage whisper.
“I got detention,” she adds, smile growing even wider.
“Be still my beating heart,” he says as he grabs at his chest. “You not only defended my honor but took a step over to the Darkside. I do believe I might faint.”
“Does this mean I get one of those red laser sword things?”
Nope. Nope, nope, nope. Eddie’s heart has officially exploded.
“You’ve seen Star Wars?”
Chrissy nods. “I liked Leia,” she replies with a smile. “Though I didn’t like the outfit they put her in in the last one. It looked so uncomfortable.” She pulls a little face.
“Chrissy,” Eddie says as he goes to his knees and walks on them towards her. “I am going to need you to stop talking because if this is you telling me you’ve secretly been a nerd all this time, I may just lose my mind.”
“Don’t worry, Eddie,” she says as she reaches out and taps his nose. “I’ll help you find it.”
And that’s it. Eddie’s heart has imploded. Nothing makes sense anymore; up is down, left is right, lawful good is now chaotic evil.
“Eddie?”
He blinks and finds that Chrissy is looking at him with her head slightly cocked to the side. “Um…you’re not actually losing your mind, are you?”
“Honestly, I have no idea.” He runs a hand through his hair, a smile plastered over his face so wide it almost hurts.
“Would cookies help?” She holds out the bag, and Eddie takes it with just the slightest tremble in his hands. He opens it, and the smell of peanut butter and chocolate fills his nose.
“Oh dang,” he murmurs as he pulls one out. “These smell awesome.”
Eddie takes a bit and freezes. Oh god. Oh god, why is it so salty?
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he says around the cookie that, while still somewhat edible, tastes like it was rolled around in salt. He looks down at the cookie and realizes that, most likely, it was.
“Eddie,” she says, voice dropping slightly, accusing.
“I-it’s fine, really!”
He is surprised by how quickly she snatches back the bag, and before he can warn her, she’s shoved a cookie in her mouth. Chrissy’s eyes go wide, meet his, and they start laughing.
“T-they’re awful,” she laughs out.
“Just the outside,” he says as he starts dusting the salt off it. When he takes his next bite, it is much more palatable.
“Oh no,” she groans as she looks down at hers. “I can’t believe I did that. I’m so stupid!”
“Hey, no,” Eddie replies, pointing a finger at her. “Mistakes don’t make you stupid. Now, thinking that cranking up the heat on an oven will cut the cooking time on something, that’s stupid. It also leads to things catching on fire.”
“Did you—”
“In my defense, I was very high, and I really wanted chicken nuggets.”
Chrissy laughs again, and Eddie realizes he would happily eat every salt-encrusted cookie to keep hearing it.
“Eddie?” His name comes muffled from the back of the trailer.
“Oh shoot.” He gets up quickly. “Sorry, uncle Wayne!”
“Oh no,” Chrissy whispers. “Were we being too loud?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Eddie replies as he takes the bag of salty cookies and sets them on the counter. “Though we should probably take off so he can sleep.”
“Sleep?”
“He works nights,” Eddie replies as he grabs his jacket. His W.A.S.P. tank won’t do much to keep him warm as the cool March evening starts to settle in.
“Oh, whoops.” She stands up. “Sorry, Mr. Munson!” she calls, then pauses. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
Eddie snorts a laugh as the door to his room cracks open. During the day, if Eddie knows he’ll be out and about, Wayne sleeps in his room instead of on the foldout in the living room. Eddie is happy today is one of those days.
“You’re alright, miss,” he says as he leans out just enough to see her and Eddie. “Eddie, who’s your friend?”
Eddie can see a slight twinkle in the elder-Munson’s eye.
“This dazzling young lady is my classmate Chrissy.” He presents her with a flourish.
“Well, Chrissy, I’d come out and shake your hand, but pajamas don’t make great first impressions.”
“Oh, I think this is already a lovely one,” she replies as she smiles at him, and it is dazzling. Eddie’s heart skips a little before he looks back at Wayne. He’s smiling at him, a small one, making his neck heat.
“We’re gonna take off.” Eddie throws his thumb at the door.
“Okay,” Wayne replies with a nod. “Be good, you two, and don’t forget the binoculars.”
“Huh?” They both say it, creating a momentary harmony of sound.
“The comet,” Wayne replies with a yawn. “Figured that’s where you’d be heading.” He pauses as he looks at Eddie’s confused face. “Did you forget? You’re the one who told me about it.”
“Oh yeah!” Eddie spins to Chrissy; hands pushed together. “Want to go look at a comet?”
“Sure,” she says. “Though, can I use your bathroom first?”
Both Eddie and Wayne look at one another. Two bachelors in one home doesn’t make for the cleanest setting. Eddie wonders if he’s got boxers on the floor in there, and by the look on Wayne’s face, he’s thinking the same thing.
“One second.” Eddie dashes into the small room. The mirror is water stained, and the tub has a ring around it, but the toilet is passable. Still, Eddie takes a few seconds to scrub it with their old toilet brush and wipe down the seat with toilet paper. A quick flush, and it’s much more presentable. He almost leaves without washing his hands but quickly diverts himself.
“Don’t wanna be gross,” he thinks to himself before he steps back into the hall.
“Okay, all yours!”
“Thank you,” Chrissy says as she walks past. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Munson.”
“Call me Wayne, miss.”
“Then call me Chrissy.” Then she’s in the bathroom.
Wayne looks at Eddie with a sharp eye.
“You better treat that girl right,” he says. “She seems like a peach.”
“She is,” Eddie agrees with a sharp nod, cheeks warm. “Uh, where are the binoculars?”
“Closet, in my box.”
“Okay, great, thanks.” Eddie gives him a thumbs up, and Wayne rolls his eyes.
“Be safe,” he repeats before he closes the door, and Eddie deflates slightly before he quickly goes to the front closet. Wayne’s broken lockbox holds items from his military days, including a set of rather nice, though dented, binoculars.
“Eddie?”
He jumps as he turns to find Chrissy in the hall, her hands dripping.
“Do you have a towel I can use?”
After a quick hunt for a hand towel, and putting the cookies where Wayne hopefully won’t find them before Eddie can de-salt them, they head out. Chrissy’s bike is loaded into the back of the van, the one-speed pink and green neon monstrosity looking ridiculously out of place in the back of the black van. Eddie kind of loves how it clashes.
“Where are we going?” Chrissy asks as he drives, heading for a hill Dustin has told him about more than once, telling Eddie how he’d set up his giant antenna thing there and uses it to talk to his girlfriend across the country.
“Somewhere we can hopefully see Halley.”
“Halley?”
“The comet,” Eddie replies as he tosses her a grin. “One of the Hellfire kids told me about it. It only shows up like once in a lifetime, twice if you’re lucky.”
“Wow, really?” Chrissy leans forward, peering up into the sky. “Why haven’t they been talking about it more?”
“Because we got a bit fucked over this time around,” Eddie replies. “It’s not in the best place to be seen, and when you can see it, there’s been a lot of cloud cover. Buuuut,” he leans forward to look up. “I think we might get lucky tonight.” There are a few stray clouds, but nothing too thick, and he can’t see many on the horizon, which is good because that’s where they’ll be looking.
The hill is promisingly empty, and while the van may be old, he and Wayne have worked hard on his little death trap, making it at least decent at offroading. Eddie finds a pair of old wheel ruts that he follows, his van chugging up the side of the hill and jolting them around on spent shocks that he can’t afford to replace but are still hanging in there. Chrissy laughs as she grabs tight the leather strap above her door held by bolts Wayne had installed. Eddie grins like a madman as the van forces him to headbang to its bouncy beat up the hill.
“You good?” Eddie asks when he finally throws it into park. Chrissy turns to him with her wide grin and nods vehemently.
“That was fun!”
“Let’s hope it still is when we have to go back down.” Eddie gets up and steps into the back of the van, most of which has been pulled apart. The original bench seat had been removed and replaced with an old bus bench, leaving a gap against one side that allows him to slip into the ‘trunk’ of the van. It’s full of bolted-down boxes and straps used to schlep around Corroded Coffin’s equipment. The crates also hold a plethora of other crap, such as old blankets for when Eddie is too drunk or high to drive home, a little battery-powered tape deck radio that he’d nicked from some jock (he’d just gotten a brand new, shiny one, so the guy didn’t need his older model), and a few bottles of water that always tasted a bit like plastic when he opened one.
He snags the blanket and radio before slipping out of the van’s side door.
“Come, dear lady, Halley awaits!” he calls as he heads to the back of the van. Chrissy quickly follows, her car door slamming before she appears around the back of the van with the little bag of items they had brought.
“I know it’s usually ladies first, but give me just a moment.” He tosses the blanket onto the roof before pulling himself up, using the dents and handles in the backdoor to get up. It takes him only a handful of seconds to get the blanket laid out, the radio set near the front of the car, and then he leans over the side, hand out.
“May I have the parcel?”
“Of course, good sir,” Chrissy replies, her smile wide and bright. Eddie feels his heart flutter as he takes the bag that contains their binoculars and a couple of cokes. He’s also got a joint or two in his vest, but he isn’t planning on pulling those out unless Chrissy asks.
The items go near the radio, and then he leans down again, arm reaching.
“Ready to come aboard?”
Chrissy laughs as she takes his hand, and he pulls. To his surprise, he doesn’t have to do much, the cheerleader making quick work of the slight climb.
“Damn,” he says as she stands on the roof, standing stable compared to some of the others that have sat up there with him. Dustin had almost fallen off his first time up top, and Mike never got off his knees.
“What?”
“Just, cheerleader powers,” he says as he wiggles his fingers at her. Chrissy sticks the tip of her tongue out at him before she looks out around them.
“Wow,” she breathes as her face relaxes into one of awe. “It’s pretty up here.” Eddie shifts around to sit, his hands on his knees as he looks around them. The hill isn’t super high, but it’s enough to get a good look at the town that sprawls out into the dark. He glances back up at Chrissy, her face painted in the pinks and golds of the sunset.
“Yeah,” he agrees as he smiles, “Pretty.”
When she looks down at him, Eddie’s heart jackrabbits, and he quickly turns away, instead digging into the bag for the binoculars. Chrissy settles down next to him as he pulls them out.
“Alright,” he says as he takes a cursory look through them, fingers fiddling with the dials. “If Henderson is to be believed, then Halley should be somewhere over there.” He points the binoculars westward, towards the setting sun, but not looking directly at the sun itself. He wants to keep his eyesight after all.
“And we are in luck,” he adds as he scans. “The clouds are staying nice and high.” He pauses when he sees something that looks slightly different than the stars starting to pop up.
“And there she is,” he says with a grin as he looks out at the sky, doing a bit more fine tuning with the dials. It’s not the best view of the comet, but he can still see the silver streak that breaks through the pink and deep blue that tries to swallow it.
“Alright,” he scoots closer to Chrissy, holding out the binoculars. “So you’re gonna want to look at the library’s tower, then up and to the right. Make sure you don’t look into the sun.”
“But I want to give my eyes a tan,” she giggles, the attempt at sarcasm coming out too sweet. Eddie is happy that she’s got the binoculars pushed to her eyes; it lets him stare at her. Her mouth twists up into a lovely bow of a smile, the gentle march breeze making he hair into swirling silk curtains around her face.
“Oh wow,” she says as she suddenly backtracks with the binoculars. “I’ve never seen anything like this.” Her fingers fiddle a bit with the dial, attempting to fine-tune it, and Eddie can’t help but stare at her hand; the one she had backhanded Jason with.
“Me neither,” Eddie replies as he tucks one knee up to his chest and folds his arms onto it, eyes locked on Chrissy as she looks out at the comet. “It’s really something.”
When she takes the binoculars away, Eddie quickly looks away, making it seem like he’s looking out over Hawkins.
“Here.” She hands them back, and when he puts them back up to his eyes, he is surprised at the new clarity.
“You got some magic hands there,” he says as he looks at the comet, the tail now a definite slash instead of a fuzzy line.
“Well…” she trails off, and Eddie startles as thin fingers take his free hand. “You use your hands a lot, right? With the guitar?”
Eddie pulls the binoculars from his face, his eyes locked on his large hand cradled between her much smaller ones. He is surprised by how rough they feel, but it makes sense. Chrissy’s palms are covered in small callouses from both gymnastics and clutching tight to pom-poms, making the skin rougher than Eddie had expected. It’s a pleasant surprise.
“Uh, yeah,” he says, trying to clear the squeak out of his voice.
“Here.”
Eddie stares at his palm as Chrissy cups it in both of hers, one of her thumbs against his pinky and the other sprouting from the curve where his palm meets his thumb. Chrissy pushes her thumbs down his hand and towards the heel of it, forcing him to spread it out. He is surprised by the pressure she applies, and he can’t help the slight groan he gives as she starts to dig her thumbs into the meat of his palm, working into the muscles.
“Holy shit, you really are magic,” he murmurs as he feels himself start to melt.
“My mom taught me,” she replies, eyes trained on Eddie’s palm while she speaks. “Dad works with his hands a lot, but he’s also started having bad arthritis, so she and I take turns helping him uncurl them. He says he likes when I do it more, though. Says mom is too gentle.” She digs the tip of her thumb down into the base of Eddie’s thumb, following the length of it.
“I can see why,” he groans because, honestly, it feels heavenly. He’s never had someone work on his hands like this. When Chrissy lets go, each digit feels tingly and new, like he had sprouted a set of fresh fingers. He flexes them, staring at his hand before Chrissy grabs his other and starts working on it.
“Okay, you keep doing that, and you’re going to put me to sleep,” Eddie says after a few comfortable moments of quiet, Chrissy’s deft fingers sliding against his, elongating them and making them pop deliciously.
“Well, I don’t want that,” she says as she gives his hand a squeeze and lets go. “I was hoping you could show me the stars.”
Eddie laughs at that.
“I’m afraid that I am not as well versed in the stars as you may think,” he replies as he looks up. The pinks have faded into deep purples, the sun tucked behind the earth and leaving only a slash of color behind. “Though I know a few,” he adds quickly. “The more common ones.”
“I don’t even know those,” Chrissy replies, and when he looks at her, she’s staring upward, craning her neck.
“Why don’t we, uh,” he clears his throat. “Why don’t we lay down? It’ll be easier to look.”
Chrissy smiles at him, an almost knowing look but full of mirth. Eddie tries to be gentlemanly about it, giving her plenty of space, but he still somehow ends up with her as a warm line down his side, her head propped up on his bicep.
“Okay,” she says, face turned towards the stars. “Where are the dippers?”
Eddie looks up into the darkening sky, his heart a jackrabbit in his chest as he starts to point, doing his best to direct her eyes.
“So that there,” he says, “Is the big dipper.” He traces it with his finger, describing where the stars that make the constellation line up with the horizon.
“I see it,” she says after a few moments, her voice gleeful.
“Alright, so you see the two on the far right that make the bowl?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, well, if you follow those two up, you’ll find Polaris. The North Star.” He isn’t looking as he says it, instead focussing on how Chrissy traces the sky with her eyes until they stop.
“It’s so bright,” she says softly. She suddenly gasps.
“What?” Eddie’s eyes dart to the sky.
“Did you not see it?”
“See what?”
Her hand gently smacks his chest.
“The shooting star!”
“O-oh, no, I was looking at—” Eddie is cut off as a streak of color flits through the sky, the two of them sucking in twin intakes of breath.
“Two!” She whispers, voice high and unbelieving.
“Three,” he adds as there is another, then another.
“Wow,” Chrissy whispers. He turns to look at her and feels his breath catch. The last lines of light have painted her in purple and navy, turning her into something almost ethereal. In her eyes, he can see the light of the falling stars as she tries to trace each one on its way to earth.
“They’re beautiful.”
“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs as he watches her. He cannot look away when she turns to him, eyes wide, her mouth a slight ‘O’ of surprise. Eddie realizes he said that out loud.
“S-sorry, I mean-”
“You think I’m prettier than a falling star?”
Eddie feels like his face is on fire as he tries to find something to say back.
“O-of course you are! Falling stars are just…they’re just, like, little bits of stranded stardust burning up in the atmosphere, ya know? You are way prettier than a bit of stranded stardust.”
“Stranded Stardust,” Chrissy whispers as she looks at him, then back up at the sky where streaks of light continue to appear. “That sounds like a song.” Her eyes return to his.
“I’ll write it for you,” he says without thinking. He finds himself shifting forward, Chrissy’s eyes pulling him into orbit.
“Really?” She shifts closer as well, rolling onto her side. Eddie can feel her fingers gently gripping at his vest.
“Yeah,” he whispers. “Yeah, I will.”
Chrissy’s lips are soft, silky with some sort of gloss, and Eddie melts against them. He feels like he’s burning up, his heart bursting with light. Eddis is nothing but a bit of stranded stardust pulled into Chrissy’s orbit. Only, when she pulls away, though, he doesn’t fizzle out and disappear. He finds himself grounded, her hands keeping him from flying away. Chrissy raises up slightly so she can slot against him easier, letting Eddie wrap the arm she had been lying on around her shoulders.
“I’d like that.” Her lips are turned up into a smile that Eddie quickly learns the curve of as they press back into his.
On the horizon, Halley’s comet streaks on, littering the sky with falling stars that Eddie ignores. Who needs bits of stardust when he has a glowing comet in his arms?