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He met her in middle school during a talent show. Of course, Eddie had known who the little spitfire girl was anyway before she got quieter. Shame, because she’d been more fun when she’d been loud in the hallways.
She’d had pompoms, a too tight ponytail she tugged at relentlessly.
Chrissy looked more like a doll than a girl, and when he spotted a vicious looking woman with Chrissy, Eddie figured that was the reason why.
He’d been with his band, not exactly welcome, but no adult was going to boo them off stage yet.
Chrissy had told him she liked the song, an obvious lie, but she’d tried to talk to him. Had complimented him before her mother dragged her off with a grip on Chrissy’s wrist.
She’d waved on her way out the door.
The crush went back two years, to his first run as a senior, when Chrissy Cunningham was just Chrissy without Jason Carver attached. In his experience, her friends tended to fake nice so they could still buy from him, but when you put them under a lens, they were just as vile as they came.
Not Sunshine though.
She was actual kindness, sticky sweet, and the first time she’d talked to him, it had knocked him on his ass. Pathetic didn’t begin to cover it because Eddie had just been in the music room, working with a guitar that wasn’t his. Acoustic, not necessarily his preference, but dicking around here was better than dealing with the cesspool that was a high school parking lot.
The toe of her shoe had squeaked against the tile, and his head had snapped up. She’d lingered in the doorway, one small hand wrapped around the frame, and here’s the thing, Chrissy was stupid fucking pretty. A fantastic little smile with bright eyes, and that signature ponytail that curled. But she’d had her hair down, and it was longer than his own.
She’d been dating Carver for three weeks at the time. Don’t ask him how he knew that. Eddie hadn’t meant to keep track, but he’d wondered what it'd be like to have her hair wrapped around his fingers. Then he’d figured out that Carver either already knew, or would soon, and he’d scowled.
Poor Chrissy thought the twist to his mouth was for her.
“Sorry. I heard the music and—” She tapped her fingers against the door, chewed her bottom lip, and fuck, Eddie wanted to do that. “You’re really good.”
The corner of his mouth lifted, and Eddie sat up straight. “Uh, thanks.” Uh , because he’s fucking infatuated, and too stupid to accept a compliment. “You can sit down if you want to listen.”
Chrissy looked up and down the hallway, and slipped into the room quietly. She didn’t sit directly next to him, but kept herself out of sight from the vertical glass panel that looked into the room. Anyone could walk by without seeing her.
He thought she might be hiding, might trust him blindly to be alone with him when most didn’t, and Eddie’s sure he was already half in love. Just from a smile, and a compliment.
“Got any requests, Cunningham?”
Her nose crinkled when she thought about things, which is a fact Eddie should not be aware of. “I don’t think you’d like it.”
She’s got him there.
Eddie shifted forward, resting the guitar on his knees and he smiled at her. It had the intended effect, bringing a flush rushing up her neck, and over her cheeks. He had a good smile, mostly straight teeth and that’s the only thing he could thank his old man for. And if that smile worked on Cunningham, then he was going to use it.
“You know,” he tapped the guitar’s side. “I think you’re a Billy Joel kind of girl.”
Chrissy nodded a little, biting her lip, and she had to stop doing that. Or not. Eddie didn’t know which he really wanted. “You’re not a Billy Joel kind of guy though.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “Uh, no. I’m not.”
“It’s okay. You can play anything you want.” Chrissy braced her back against the plastic chair that could snap in an instant and leave you with a welt. She brought her legs up, crossing them, and stared at him expectantly. Waiting for him to start.
Her eyes dropped to his hands, which remained still.
“Or not,” she added. “I remember you now.”
Eddie’s flinch was just subtle enough to go unnoticed. “Go on. Share with the class.”
“You had that band. Corroded Coffin.”
He gripped the neck, chest tightening because it wasn’t that long ago for him considering the lasting effect it had on him, but for her to remember is unbelievable. “You remember middle school?”
“I mean,” Chrissy holds up her hands in mock defense. “I’ve tried to forget most of those few years, but with a name like that, how could I forget?”
“I don’t know,” The words left him with a weak breath, but somehow, she didn’t notice. “You’re a freak.”
Her face lit up, and that was it .
This was the smile that was purely Cunningham. Genuine and so fucking bright it could probably blind him. He’d called her a freak like him, and here she was, laughing under her breath and kicking her feet.
Maybe he didn’t understand girls.
Or maybe it was just this one.
“That’s not the guitar you used before.”
“No,” Eddie said, dragging the pick down a string. The noise vibrated between them, but it wasn’t much compared to the slam of his heart. “Mine’s at home. Can’t bring it to school because someone would break it.”
Chrissy fell quiet at that, wheels turning in her head, and she nodded. “I don’t like the way people treat you.”
“Can’t say I like it either, Sunshine.” Her face went pink at that, and if he could work in the nickname again, he would. “These are the facts of life though. I’m a lowly freak, and you’re—”
“A freak, just like you said.” Chrissy picked at her nails. “Maybe. I don’t know. You’re a lot braver than I am, you know?”
Swallowing took work, but Eddie managed. He looked around, leaning back and making a show of it while she stared. “Yeah, sorry. I don’t know who you think I am, but you’re thinking of someone else. I’m not brave.”
Chrissy dragged her chair forward, legs letting out a low screech against the split tile. “You don’t care what anyone thinks about you.”
“There’s nothing here worth thinking about.”
She leaned over, pinched his knee, and looked mortified immediately after. “You’re very interesting, Eddie Munson.”
It took his first and last name to kill him.
Chrissy didn’t bother to pull her punches, and he wondered if she knew what she was doing. All signs pointed to no.
“Anyway, I think you’re brave. I like how you’re always yourself.”
“Who else would I be?”
She shrugged, but beneath that bright persona she wrapped around herself, Eddie could see the cracks. They’re plain here, up close and personal.
Chrissy didn’t like herself.
“Piano Man,” she told him quietly. “You’re right. I like Billy Joel.”
Eddie grinned. “I knew it.”
“So,” she crossed one leg over the other, and it’s an effort not to watch how well these jeans fit her. “Do you know it, or does all your music sound like banging trash can lids together?
His hand flew to his heart, and Eddie faked a sob.
“Fucking breaking my heart here, Sunshine.”
Chrissy giggled. She fucking giggled and Eddie wanted to kiss her. But she had a boyfriend that would bash his head in just for what’s happening currently. Nevermind the shit that’s been running through Eddie’s head the entire time.
Lipgloss stained her mouth, shiny with a hint of glitter, and he wondered what flavor it was.
Raising her arm, Chrissy slid her sleeve up and check her watch. Her shoulders went taut, and she sighed. “I have to go soon.”
“How soon?” His voice didn’t crack in the middle. It definitely didn’t.
“I’ve got ten minutes if I’m lucky,” Chrissy mumbled. She picked at a stray string in her jeans, and wouldn’t meet his eye. “Uh, I’m meeting Jason’s parents.”
“That’s serious shit.”
She snorted, and immediately covered her nose with a hand.
“How nervous are you? Scale of one to ten.”
“Eleven,” Chrissy managed, her voice tight. “He tells me they’ll love me, but his mother is…terrifying.”
There’s no fucking way that Chrissy could meet someone that didn’t love her, but saying that would tip his hand.
“I’m sure she is, given how her son is— Sorry.”
Chrissy’s knee bounced and she looks so fucking sad he couldn’t stand it. “I’d tell you about all of it, but it’s boring and sad. Besides, you don’t even know me.”
He’d like to.
Eddie could do a hell of a lot better than Carver’s going to do.
“And you’ve only got—” Eddie tapped his watch. “Eight minutes left. Probably takes longer than that to explain.”
Chrissy wiped her face with the end of her sleeve, blinking quickly in her attempt not to cry.
Please don’t cry. Please don’t fucking cry.
They’ve had a single conversation lasting more than five minutes. Chrissy had made him laugh, and then slipped right under his skin. While in the middle of this, Eddie didn’t think she’d be easy to get rid of.
“They’ll like you,” Eddie said roughly.
The rapidly forming crush aside, and the blinding urge to crush her mouth under his, Eddie wasn’t a complete idiot. He could make her giggle, and earn that precious smile she’s got, but Eddie wasn’t any good for her.
Give him a pen, and he could write a list of cons for Chrissy knowing a guy like him. There’s weed in his van—and she’ll probably never smoke. There were hard drugs in his bedroom, and tonight, he’ll be dealing Special K while pretending he’s not like his old man.
Jason Carver was a massive asshole, but his future was already set. College. Marriage. 2.5 kids with a cozy house in the suburbs, and Eddie wasn’t naive enough to think he could stand up next to him.
It wasn’t a matter of letting her go, given that he’d never had her to begin with.
But for a twenty minute section on a Tuesday in his first senior year, it’d felt like it was possible.
“And if they don’t like you,” he rasped, hands already moving as he began to play. “Honestly, they can get fucked, Sunshine.”
She laughed—real, warm laughter that left him wanting to hear it again.
Eddie settled for playing her song instead. He kept his eyes on her, half expecting the door to fly open at any moment, but the moment was theirs.
Chrissy and Jason become the most liked (or disliked, if you asked Eddie Munson) couple in Hawkins High School. The formula was too simple—pretty, unbelievably kind cheerleader, and a jock who had the world on a string.
He was the son of a Baptist preacher, and Chrissy was the model of a good Christian girl. They’ll probably get married after they graduate, and that rumor began during Eddie’s second run as a senior.
He did his best not to look at her because one, he really didn’t want to swallow his teeth and two, it ached .
Chrissy Cunningham was his own secret, kept in his jacket pocket where he didn’t have to share. Because here was the thing: he knew what she looked like when she smiled. When Chrissy was happy, she had dimples. Her shoulders relaxed.
But that’s not how the story went after the music room.
Eddie was sure she’d been happy for a while, but by January of her junior year, Chrissy had lost weight. It couldn’t be that unnoticeable to anyone around her, especially for the cheerleaders that throw her in the air.
When he was drunk once, Eddie considered talking to her again. It’d be easy to catch her in the library, but whether or not she’s happy wasn’t his business.
Wayne told him to get his shit together before he outed himself entirely.
The last time Eddie spoke to Chrissy was over a year ago. He couldn’t just pop up, and expect her to talk to him. And a conversation went two ways. She could have talked to him if she wanted, but Chrissy kept to waving at him when no one looked.
But those had died off early too.
So, Eddie came to the decision that if Chrissy ever dumped her asshole boyfriend, he’d talk to her. He just wasn’t prepared for when that actually happened.
Senior year—take three, roll the dice—would be his year or he would drop out entirely because no fucking way was he staying in this hellhole without at least Cunningham. Not like they spoke, but he had the one conversation memorized.
He’d kill to hear that laugh again though.
Chrissy dumped Jason on her eighteenth birthday. Everyone knew the truth by now because it’d been ugly, and this was high school. An actual feeding ground for the rabid behaviors of teenagers.
But when Eddie learned that Chrissy had actually tossed her golden boy to the curb like Friday’s trash, he was impressed. The rumors flew despite the truth: Chrissy wasn’t interested. Case. Point. Close.
Well, Jason looked really close with Jenna a few weeks ago.
He had a ring. She probably got spooked, but they’ll work it out.
Maybe the sex was bad.
Did you hear she stopped going to church? I bet that’s why.
A month after her birthday, Chrissy passed him in the hall. Her hair was down, uncurled, and she was without her makeup. Still the prettiest goddamn girl he’d ever seen in his life. Eddie stuffed his hands in his pockets, not letting his eyes linger, but she stopped him.
Chrissy laid her palm against his sternum, and if that didn’t cause heart failure, the fact that this was a crowded hallway would . “Hi, Eddie.”
He swallowed, throat bobbing. “Sunshine.”
Her face softened, and finally , her shoulders relaxed. He hadn’t seen that for two years. “Do you still take song requests from weird girls?”
Eddie smirked. “Do you still think metal sounds like banging trash can lids together?” The fact that it was nearly an exact quote from two years ago ought to embarrass him, but repeating senior year three times would take the humility out of anyone.
“A little bit,” Chrissy kept her hand on his chest, fingers just starting to curl in his faded shirt. “But if you’ll play Uptown Girl for me, I’ll listen to any song you want.” People were staring at them, but Chrissy didn’t crumble under the stares. “What do you think?”
“Yeah,” he managed, but only barely. Sure, he’d had two years to think about how to talk to this girl if he ever had another chance, but apparently all of his thoughts had vanished. “Whenever you want.”
“Cool. How about tonight? You can pick me up at seven?”
Eddie blinked. “I can do that.”
“Perfect.” Digging through her bag, Chrissy pulled out a glitter pen—pink, naturally—and wrote on the side of his palm. “That’s my address. Don’t be late, okay?”
It sounded like a date, and that would only be possible if he were imagining it. Probably dropped too much acid or—
Chrissy yanked him down by his shirt and planted a kiss at the corner of his mouth. “I’m serious. Don’t be late for our first date.”
He choked. “Jesus Christ, you’ve gotten bold.”
“I was waiting for you to talk to me, but since you were never going to do it,” Chrissy shrugged, and she still had him pulled down, his face extremely close to her own. “What do you think about the movies?”
“I’m gonna go wherever the fuck you want, Sunshine.”
Chrissy patted his cheek. “Here’s another heads up for you, I want a goodnight kiss.”
Oh, God, he thought this girl made him stupid two years ago, but that’s nothing compared to now.
Right now, she nearly had him on his fucking knees in the middle of the science wing.
“Right,” Eddie breathed. “I can do that.”
When she kissed him again, right in the same place, Eddie finally figured out what flavor her lipgloss was. Strawberry.
When she left him for her next class, Eddie was fucking floating. He checked his watch. There was at least seven hours between now and the end of the movie. At least.
He’d been waiting two years to kiss the hell out of Chrissy Cunningham. Eddie figured he could wait a little longer.