Chapter Text
Surprisingly, it only took 18 months or just shy of 3 full semesters of college, to undo 18 years of repression, shame, and guilt.
Chrissy hadn’t had any expectations when she filled out the forms for her college courses, Ms. Kelley had explained that the first two years would be mostly general knowledge courses that would build upon her high school classes. However, there would be ‘opportunities for growth’ as Ms. Kelly called them, or as Chrissy’s best friend Katie Prince put it: ‘something fun in between the boring!’
Chrissy wasn’t sure what in her mind at that moment aligned to have made Human Nutrition 101 seem fun, but in hindsight she wants to believe that on a subconscious level her body was telling her what Chrissy needed.
Chrissy had never had a teacher like Professor Anne, first and foremost was the fact that the woman let her students call her by her first name and didn’t even feel the need to be all that precious about the title of ‘professor.’ Professor Anne also had this way of seemingly staring straight into you, but not in a threatening way; her warm brown eyes were steady and never strayed from yours while her hands would sit casually in the pockets of her cardigan.
“What is a calorie, Ms Cunningham?”
The first week it was like a bomb had gone off in Chrissy’s mind. The walls of her mind’s prison, which had seemed to be made of granite, were revealed to be almost as vapid in nature as Tiffany Thompson back in Hawkins. A simple assignment: calculate how many calories you need (as a student, an athlete, as a human being); had sent Chrissy reeling like a top in all directions, the number seemed astronomical until Chrissy had decided to track how many calories she was taking in.
Boiled chicken breasts and celery sticks did not feed a competitive athlete.
By the end of the first quarter of the semester Chrissy had visited Professor Anne’s office no less than ten times asking for more texts to read and research from. Chrissy's appetite for knowledge was ironically insatiable, as words like ‘healthy’ and ‘fit’ were used like a hammer and chisel to erode away the importance of ‘thin’ and ‘pretty.’
Chrissy had always been organized to a degree that some of the not-as-nice teammates in high school had mocked her. Chrissy tried not to let the half-whispered snark and wicked grins get to her, but sometimes hearing ‘Prissy Chrissy is so anal she must be a butt slut’ had sent her careening face first into a toilet bowl. Now those organizational skills were put to use crafting a properly balanced meal plan with color coded tabs and percentages of proteins, carbohydrates, and fats. Yes, fats! Fat was an important component of proper nutrition, essential for vitamin absorption and brain function. Chrissy practically chanted these words every time her mother’s voice echoed up from the bowels of Chrissy’s subconscious to scold her about eating a cheeseburger or putting extra dressing on her salad.
The gym became Chrissy’s refuge, it hadn’t been easy at first to stare at herself in the floor to ceiling mirrors, but eventually Chrissy had been able to drive out the voice that sounded like her mother poking and prodding and pinching at every exposed inch of skin. Food is fuel for the body, protein builds muscles, muscles means strength; each statement punctuated with a free weight rep or an inhale as Chrissy pushed a powerlifting bar up. Her fellow college cheerleaders had complained: Chrissy was too much in practices now, Chrissy was making them look bad, outshining, outperforming them. Chrissy had been good before, Chrissy properly fueled and energized was a force now.
There were challenges of course, god were there ever, but it helped that Chrissy found support amongst her teammates and students. Fellow athletes who needed proteins to build muscles strong enough to perform stunts, who needed calcium for bones to prevent breaking, and students who needed carbs to fuel all night study sessions. The hardest was the weekly ‘indulgence’ that Chrissy’s old friend and current roommate Katie faced with her although for Katie it was a reward for keeping to the meal plan: one large confetti sprinkle cupcake with vanilla buttercream frosting. The first time Chrissy had to choke it down, and all that sugar had forced her to get up after midnight and use her finger to throw it back up again; but eventually she began to see it as a highlight, a gold star or ‘job well done’ sticker on her week.
It was late October when Chrissy realized she needed a serious update on her wardrobe. Skirts and jeans that had fit loosely before were now getting snug almost cutting into abs that were appearing, t-shirts were stretching trying to accommodate shoulders that were growing, buttons strained, and her bras… Katie teased her as she threw one of her own at Chrissy and laughed. “We support the ladies in this dorm.” Thankfully Katie had to leave for class right after and Chrissy had a chance to stare at herself in the mirror with it on. It had fit perfectly, the cups molding her shape in a way that Chrissy wasn’t entirely comfortable with but ultimately couldn’t deny looked amazing. Along with the lacy edge it made Chrissy look like those lingerie girls in magazines that she had tried not to gawk at, lest she end up face down in a porcelain bowl again. Raising her arms, putting her hands behind her head, Chrissy posed for a moment and slowly looked at herself up and down. Somewhere in her mind a new voice, one she hadn’t heard since graduation, echoed up and made her pale skin turn bright red. Goddamn, Cunningham…
The biggest challenge, and the one that nearly undid all the good work Chrissy had achieved that semester, had been visiting home during the holidays.
Once, when Chrissy was a little girl, her church had shown a Passion play that used special effects to show how brutal Jesus’ treatment at the hands of the Romans was. Every child in that screening had been reduced to tears and traumatized with bad dreams for weeks, so much so that the minister and deacons decided against showing it the following years. If you asked Chrissy how she was able to, after so many years, remember in such vivid detail the sound of the scourge whip as it struck the back of the actor and tore apart his flesh she would’ve answered ‘it was like listening to my mother.’
Laura Cunningham had never minced words before, and her scathing remarks were particularly cruel and awful that holiday season. Not only was Chrissy ‘packing on the pounds’ after all those warnings Laura had lovingly given about the Freshman Fifteen but if Chrissy didn’t straighten up Laura would need to start getting ‘firm’ with her daughter. Of course it didn’t help that over Thanksgiving, Jason had broken up with Chrissy citing the distance between their colleges (as if Bloomington and Terre Haute were on opposite sides of the world) and the lack of support from he was getting from Chrissy (because she wouldn’t tie up the only payphone on her dorm room floor for an hour every night to soothe Jason’s ego when he realized he had been a big fish in a little pond).
When Laura found out, not from Chrissy but from Jason’s mother of all people, there was a new and cruel edge to her words, one that Chrissy tried her best to dull. Suddenly Chrissy was everything from an overripe fruit withering on the vine to a used up, stretched out, bag. “Boys don’t like girls who eat more than them, Chrissy.” or “No man likes stretch marks, Chrissy.” In her mind Chrissy would retort with something like Well, you should tell that to the five or six boys who show up wanting to carry my books to class, Mother! but never verbally of course. The worst one though was when Chrissy tried to fit into a blouse she wore in junior year and wasn’t able to do all of the buttons up “Cover those filthy things up, Christine, you look like a whore!” The venom in that one had made tears pour down her face as she changed.
Chrissy was about to throw all progress down the toilet, literally, and was ready to run back to campus before New Year’s Eve if it hadn’t been for Eddie Munson.
Chrissy’s little brother Mattie had been begging her all morning to drive him to the arcade because he was absolutely positive he could beat the legendary Mad Max’s high score on Dig Dug. So Chrissy had been sitting on the hood of her father’s Buick, bored out of her mind and stressed in equal measure, when she decided to do some tricep dips to warm up and keep herself occupied. Chrissy so focused on her half-ass workout that she was legitimately surprised by the wolf whistle that filled the air.
“Chriss-seee Cunnnninghamm…looking good!” Eddie had stressed as he siddled up and leaned against the car parked next to her; all charm and swagger in his ripped jeans, wallet chain, and black leather jacket. Straightening up Chrissy couldn’t help the giggle she let out or the enormous grin that she could feel spread across her face, despite suddenly wishing she had worn something cuter than jeans and a fuzzy sweater that day. “Ed. Dee. Manson.” She jokingly replied.
Eddie dramatically clutched his chest as if she had stabbed him with a knife. “I knew it,” he coughed out, as if life was slowly ebbing away, “I knew once Her Highness got out of this shithole she’d forget all about the trail of broken hearts she left in her wake.”
Chrissy pushed through the fluster she felt at the ‘broken hearts’ comment, and countered. “Who could ever forget a court jester as memorable as you, Eddie?” The grin that earned from the metalhead matched her own. “Besides, weren’t you the one who was supposed to ‘get out of this shithole’?”
“And did, princess,” he replied, puffing his chest out only a little bit in pride, “and did. I got a bartending job in Louisville that pays the rent, and a semi-part time job as a session player for a studio.” Eddie looked down at Chrissy and cocked his head to the side, inviting her to ask questions.
“Oh really?” Chrissy couldn’t help the playful tone in her voice, “Any chance a couple of sorority girls from Indiana could get served?”
Eddie’s jaw dropped and he stuck a knuckle between his teeth before asking, “You joined a sorority? Tell me everything! Do you shower together? Have pillowfights in your pajamas?!”
Chrissy erupted into unabashed laughter, the steam from her breath flowing past her fingertips as she covered her mouth. Shaking her head, Chrissy was barely able to get her words out through her giggles. “Maybe I’ll rush in the spring, I don’t have time right now in my schedule… but I’m sure I could spread the word around Sorority Row if you’re open to it.” Please don’t be open to it. Chrissy begged in her head.
“Nope.” Eddie said, crossing his arms and looking as authoritative as he could. “I card 100 percent starting now. You ruined it, Chrissy Cunningham, you ruined it for everyone.” Chrissy rolled her eyes, not believing him for a second. The silence stretched for a few moments between them in a most comfortable way, and Chrissy revelled in the calm feelings that she hadn’t experienced in months. If she closed her eyes she could even pretend they were back at the old picnic table in the woods behind the high school, chatting away as Eddie plied his illegal trade while he tried to get Chrissy to come to a D&D session.
“You’re still writing,” Chrissy said, her voice breaking the silence, “right?” He’s such a good writer. She said to herself. It didn’t matter if they were lyrics to a song that wasn’t really Chrissy’s scene, or a chapter in an ‘epic’ fantasy novel with elves and whatever orcs were, or even a book report for O’Donnell’s class. Eddie had a way with words that transported Chrissy far from her beleaguered existence.
“Every chance I get, princess.” Eddie’s tone had shifted, though still playful he sounded wistful. “What about you? You, uh… taking care of yourself, yeah?” Chrissy’s eyes drifted down, almost in shame, for a moment before she raised them back up. She hadn’t meant to let it slip but there was something about Eddie Munson that sometimes she couldn’t help unloading about her life and her… issues with food. Eddie just had this way of breaking down her defenses and allowing Chrissy to open up and she was grateful for that her senior year.
“Yeah.” Chrissy said, smiling and nodding her head firmly, shaking off the last searing embers her mother’s critical look had charred into Chrissy’s body that morning when she and her brother had asked for the car keys. “I really am.”
“I could tell,” his eyes travelled up and down Chrissy’s body appreciatively, setting her heart beating faster. “You were always pretty, but now…” The playful smirk reappeared on his face, “You’re a bodacious Betty, Chrissy Cunningham.” The out-of-character language made her smile, just like it always did, especially when Eddie would use a Valley Girl accent.
“Oh really?” Chrissy challenged.
“Oh yeah,” Eddie said, as he mimed chewing a piece of bubblegum and his accent changed. “Totally!”
“Chrissy!” Mattie’s whiny voice nearly sent her jumping out of her own skin, as he appeared on the other side of the car. “I’m all out of quarters.” He stuck out his hand and gave her a look after a few moments like he was silently asking if his older sister was stupid. “Well?”
“I don’t have any money, Mattie.” Chrissy said. She did, in fact, but not if he wasn’t going to act right.
“Fiine.” He said, as he walked to the car door and opened it. “You can take me home now.”
Chrissy turned back to Eddie and helplessly shrugged her shoulders. “Wow.” Eddie said sarcastically. “Lucky you!” Without waiting for her awkward excuse he pushed himself off the car and started back the way he had been heading before. “See you around, Cunningham,” Eddie tone subdued compared to earlier, “And keep taking care of yourself.”
“Bye Eddie.” Chrissy said, giving him a little wave before turning and getting into her father’s car.
“Who was that?” Mattie had demanded, his tone still petulant.
“An old friend from high school…” Chrissy said non-committally as she started the car, watching Eddie through the windshield as he disappeared around the corner of the arcade.
Hours later, Chrissy laid upon her bed absently running her hand atop her stomach and thinking about Eddie’s warm brown eyes as he called her body ‘bodacious.’