#( hellcheer. )

What if she doesn’t like it? What if she pretends to like it and wears it for a couple weeks then claims she lost it, but really she threw it in the trash or in the woods, hoping it would never see the light of day again? 

He sighs, debating whether he should go through with this at all. 

“Hi, Eddie!” He hears Chrissy’s angel soft voice carry through the last line of trees before she steps into the clearing; their own personal spot behind the school. “Sorry, I’m late. Cheer practice ran later than I… What’s wrong?” 

Her brows furrow as she nears him, dropping her backpack on the bench. His usual smile has been replaced with a look that she could only describe as– “You look terrified.” 

“Oh–” Eddie shakes his head, breathing out a laugh. “Nah, you just– You caught me off guard. That’s all.” His smile returns full force, dimples and all, as he takes her hand, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. Every time he does it, her entire face tingles with heat, a shiver going straight up her spine. 

“Okay then.” She’s smiling now too, bright and almost blinding, and  Eddie feels like Icarus, flying directly for the sun. 

They sit and talk about their day, what they plan to do on the weekend, and when she’d have time to sneak out to see him. She’s yet to visit him at the Hideout, and she really wants to go, but it’s on the other side of town and she’s not sure if she can get out there without her parents checking in on her. All the while they’re having conversation, Eddie’s finger still winds and unwinds around the red ribbon tied around the box, his leg bouncing beneath the table as he tries to calm down his nerves and find an opportunity to slide the box across the table to her. But, then her eyes drift down to her watch and she reluctantly announces that she should be getting home soon. 

“You need a ride?” 

“No, thanks. Heather’s waiting for me. She’s sleeping over tonight.” 

He grabs her backpack for her and when his other hand slides out from his pocket, the red ribbon gets caught on one of his rings, dragging the box with his hand. Before he can shove it back into his pocket, it falls to the ground at her feet. 

It’s wrapped in black wrapping paper decorated with silver stars and a bright red ribbon tied around it. After many failed attempts to make it look remotely decent, he’d gone back to the store to ask Joyce to wrap it for him. 

“What is this?” Chrissy bends down to snatch it before Eddie does. “Eddie?” She looks up at him, her stormy blue eyes lighting up with excitement.

“Uhh–” There was no use in trying to hide it now, or go back on it. If he tried to make it seem like it wasn’t for her, it would definitely do more harm and he didn’t want to lie to her for the sake of doing this at a better time when his heart wasn’t in his throat. Because really, when wasn’t his heart in his throat when he was around Chrissy Cunningham? 

“Open it and find out.” Trying to sound coy fails when his voice breaks a little and he needs to clear his throat. He nibbles on his bottom lip as she unties the ribbon, and much too carefully gets her nail under the seams of the wrapping so she doesn't rip anything. When the wide black box is revealed, she peers back up at him with a giddy smile, giggling as she starts removing the lid. 

Eddie winces as she does, swallowing hard. Fidgeting with the ends of his hair, he takes a deep breath when she gasps. 

“Did you– make this? Wait, Eddie, isn’t this yours?” She gingerly removes the familiar chunky, silver bracelet from the box. Now, however, it was adorned with guitar picks, much like one would do with a charm bracelet. Looking at it now in her delicate hands, it looked so stupid. Why would she wear something like that? 

“Yeah, I— You’re always touching it when we’re together and, I want you to have something of mine, but I thought it’d be cool if I made it into some kind of— Uhhh, those bracelets with all the shit hanging off of it. And, those are all picks from my favorite bands. I don’t know, it’s actually really stupid. And, looks really stupid.” He rambles on, shaking his head and looking everywhere but at Chrissy, embarrassment coloring his cheeks a soft red. 

“It’s not stupid.” Her tone is firm as her hand connects gently with his cheek, sliding her palm against his skin and directing his gaze back to her. “I really, really like it, Eddie. Could you…” She holds up the bracelet. “Put it on for me, please?” 

Nodding wordlessly, he takes the bracelet from her, and it goes around her delicate wrist twice before he can securely hook the ends together. He holds her wrist in his hand a couple moments longer, thumbing at the picks hanging off the bracelet. “You really like it? You don’t have to pretend to like it, y’know. Like, I know it’s not your style. And, I’m not like out here trying to brand you as mine or whatever. I just…” He releases her hand, but she slips her hand in his and pulls him towards her, so her chin could press against his chest when she looked up at him. 

“Thank you, Eddie.” 

And, he melts against her, all the pressure in his chest washing away with her chin against his sternum. “Yeah, all right, you’re welcome, Cunningham.” 

b. — She shifts her weight from foot to foot, hesitantly raising her fist to knock once more on the screen door. Maybe Eddie and Wayne were still asleep, or maybe they weren’t used to visitors and were ignoring her knocks. It wasn’t often that Chrissy came by unannounced, but she thought it would be a sweet surprise for Eddie. She didn’t want him to think that the only reason she ever came by was because she didn’t have a choice when he wanted to hang out at his place instead of their other usual spots. True, it took a little bit of getting used to, but she really didn’t mind spending time at his trailer with him. Plus, she has another surprise for him.

Just as she is about to knock one more time, the door flies open and through the holes in the screen, she can see his towering silhouette made taller with his big frizzy hair disheveled and sticking up in all directions. 

“Chrissy?” His voice is filled with sleep, hoarse as it rasps against his throat. “Do we… Oh shit, did I forget something?” 

“No, no! I was— I was gonna surprise you, uhm… but…” Checking her watch, she winces when she sees the digits read eight thirty. In her household and given her lifestyle, she’s usually up and around at six thirty or eight at the latest. She forgets that not everyone is held up to such unholy standards. “I’m so sorry, Eddie!” 

“Hey, hey. It’s cool. It is a nice surprise. Usually the first thing I see in the morning is Wayne. Not a pretty sight.” He jokes, pushing open the screen door to let her in. “Make yourself at home. I’d– uhh, give you a kiss, but you don’t want a whiff of this breath.” Stepping aside, he gives her some room to walk through before shutting the doors behind her. 

Her smile is filled with adoration and amusement, shaking her head at him. It’s not till she makes it through the door and really looks at him does she realize he only has his boxers and a cropped black Metallica t-shirt on, exposing his midriff. Her cheeks immediately blaze pink when her eyes catch on the exposure of skin, especially with his boxers hanging low on his hips. Turning on her heel quickly both in an effort to hide her blush and to pry her eyes away from him, she seats herself on the couch with her head dipped and her strawberry blond bangs hanging across her eyes. "I'll wait for you here."

Quirking a brow at her, a smirk cuts across his lips and he thinks to tease her about the way he can see the tips of her ears burning a bright pink. But, he doesn’t want to put her off or make her feel uncomfortable so he ultimately decides against it, heading back down the hall. “Lemme freshen up a little. Y’know, not look like a total mess for my girl.”

As he disappears down the hall, Chrissy simply nods and buries her face in her hands. My girl. Even that sends her heart fluttering, big butterfly wings beating in her chest. Sitting further back on the couch, her back rests against the worn cushion as she sinks lower into her seat. 

By the time Eddie emerges from his room, his hair a little less all over the place and a pair of acid wash black jeans pulled on, she’s breathing a little easier and her face feels less tingly. But then she sees him wearing the same shirt and she wills herself not to lose her composure again. 

“You good, Cunningham?” He calls to her from the short distance between herself and him in the kitchen. 

“Y-yeah, I’m good! I’m really good.” She stands up, crossing the room towards the counter, just on the other side of where he was walking back and forth, getting the coffee ready and grabbing a couple eggs from the fridge to fry up. “Hey, Eddie? —I actually have something for you.” 

Spinning around on his heel, his eyes are blown wide with gleeful surprise, grin splitting across his lips with dimples cratering his cheeks. “Me? Little, old Eddie Munson?” His hand is poised at his chest dramatically. Then, his arms are bracing himself on the countertop, leaning forward with his face inches away from hers. He’s so close she smells the minty toothpaste on his breath and she can’t help it when her gaze drifts down to his lips. And, she wonders whether she would taste the mint when she kisses him. “Focus, sweetheart.” He drawls teasingly, his voice still rumbling with that early morning rasp.

Once again, her cheeks burn and her eyes flicker up towards his deep brown ones. Inspired by his teasing, despite the way she's the one blushing red, Chrissy leans in closer, the toes of her sneakers helping her balance. “Kiss first.” She demands softly, holding his gaze. 

Chuckling under his breath, Eddie hooks his finger under her chin and he presses his lips to hers. Taking the opportunity with both their eyes shut, she slowly reaches into the pocket of her denim jacket and pulls out a tiny white box with a green ribbon wrapped around it. Pushing it across the counter towards him, he breaks the kiss when he feels the box bump against his arm. 

“Oh, you shouldn’t have.” He quickly sneaks another kiss to Chrissy’s cheek before unraveling the ribbon. Lifting the lid off the box, his eyes practically shine. He plucks the necklace from its white cottony cushion and holds it up between them, the sunlight filtering through the blinds hitting the silver just right. It was a simple silver chain, more delicate and thin than the chunkier chain necklaces he wore. As its pendant is the numbers ‘86, dangling in the middle. “You got a lot’ta faith in me, don’t you?” It’s his turn for his cheeks to turn pink, touched by the sentiment. 

“It’s your year, Eddie. And, a little encouragement never hurt anybody.” 

“Oh, consider me, very encouraged.” He walks around to her side and holds the necklace towards her. “Would you like to do the honors?” 

Chrissy’s head bobs up and down, taking the necklace from him. He sits on one of the stools with his back turned to her, gathering his hair and pulling it away from his neck for her. After she finishes hooking the necklace, he spins around to face her, ring-studded hands tugging her by the hips towards him. “How’s it look?” 

Her fingertips brush against the pendant at the hollow of his throat. “Pretty.” After a beat, she adds, “Like you.”

It’s not until towards the end of the day that Eddie finds the letter. He doesn’t have too many classes left, so he usually lugs around his textbooks (if he even bothered to bring them) wherever he goes instead of going back and forth between his locker and his classes, which were all on the opposite side of the campus. 

Jeff and Gareth are leaning against the adjacent lockers, waiting for him to put his stuff away when he opens his locker and the envelope falls out. It lands with his name facing up, and immediately, a bright grin splits his lips and he’s diving down for the letter. His friends roll their eyes at Eddie’s giddiness, catching a side to their fearless leader they’ve only really seen glimpses of throughout the years. He’s gotten the hots for girls before, but this is different. This is no mere catching of the hots, but rather full blown heart-eyed giddiness. He scowls at them when they start snorting with laughter, elbowing Jeff and shooing them both away. 

“I’ll catch up with you assholes later.” He laughs, slamming his locker shut. 

When he’s alone, he flips over the envelope, finding the faint outline of glitter and gloss at the closure, a sparkling imprint of her lips, and when he slides out the thin pink paper, it smells like her perfume, sugary sweet. This girl will be the absolute death of him, he’s sure of it. 

Dearest Eddie, 

I have a confession to make. I find that I can’t stop thinking about you. In class, I try to focus on Miss Markle’s lecture on Macbeth and all I can think about is the way you smile. I like your dimples and the way your cheeks crease around your lips. I like your lips too, especially when you kiss me. l think about you when I’m in class, when I’m at home, and before I sleep, I think about you extra hard, hoping that you'll be in my dreams. You make me so happy, Eddie. I hope you know that. Think of me often, okay? 

Yours truly,

Chrissy 

Think of me often? Thoughts of Chrissy constantly play in his head like a never-ending film reel, image after image and memories one after the other replay in constant repetition. Every song he plays on his sweet guitar becomes dedicated to her, every daydream he has while enduring Mister Lemark’s lectures are christened with her big blue eyes and long, slender sun-kissed legs, and every night before he closes his eyes, he stares at the polaroid picture of her he took one day when they had an afternoon picnic near Lover’s Lake, hoping and nearly praying to any higher being above that his dreams be filled with her soft laughter and even softer lips. She seems to have no idea how often he already thinks of her. 

Still, his heart swells with each and every sentiment, hanging onto every word like a lifeline. Eddie the cynic, who once swore off love only promising devotion to heavy metal and his guitar, now melts in a sticky, gooey puddle for the Queen of Hawkins High. It’s criminal for her head to be filled with thoughts of the washed up delinquent, the widely proclaimed freak, and even more criminal than that is her slipping love notes to him in between passing periods in front of others to see. If she isn’t careful, they might lock her up and declare her insane. 

He feels like a pining Victorian girl as he presses the envelope to his lips, kissing where she had left the imprint of her own lips. Gingerly tucking the note back into the envelope, he slides it into the pocket of his jacket for safekeeping, fully intending on it never leaving his person. 

Eddie’s head is up in the clouds, buzzing happily as he pushes through the doors of the drama room to meet up with the rest of the Hellfire Club. All the boys laugh and tease him, hollering at the top of their lungs. When Eddie tells Chrissy about it later, she swears she heard them from across the school. 

x   —   x

b. --- Chrissy Cunningham is breathtaking, and she doesn’t even know it.  

He thinks about this while he peers at her over the edges of his copy of A Stranger in a Strange Land. They’re laying in his bed, him propped up against the wall and a couple limp pillows and her laying on her front across his lap, legs thumping softly against the wall an irregular rhythm as she swings them back and forth. She’s flipping through one of his music magazines, reading an article about Girlschool, an all female metal band he’s introduced to her recently, and she seems to be taking it very seriously. Her eyebrows are pushed together, and she’s reading everything under her breath, sometimes followed by a thoughtful hum. The concentration on her face is adorable and he opens his mouth to say so, but she turns her head in his direction to say something too, instantly blushing when she finds his eyes already on her. The words seem to die on her tongue as she smiles demurely up at him. 

“Didn’t your uncle ever tell you that you shouldn’t stare?” She jokes, turning over in his lap and maneuvering around so his knee isn’t pressing into her back. 

In response, he wriggles out one of his legs from underneath her and instead drapes it across her waist, trapping her beneath him. Chrissy laughs, playfully pushing at his leg but he won’t budge. He grins down at her, and twirls a strand of her strawberry blonde hair around his finger, careful not to let it catch on his rings. 

“What can I say? You’re devastating. Can’t get enough of you.” Eddie emphasizes, tapping her right on the tip of her nose. 

Devastating isn’t how she’d describe herself at all, but Eddie usually has this habit of complimenting her in all sorts of creative ways that make her blush and feel so utterly adored. The sincerity in his tone is what gets to her the most. He never compliments her just to say something nice, or to appease her. It’s always laced with something so genuine and true that begs to be believed, and she really wants to instead of privately putting herself down. 

Whenever he compliments her, or whenever she catches him all starry-eyed with awe, she hides behind her sleeves and giggles, pushing at his shoulder and telling him not to make her blush. He wishes there’s some way he can tell her that she’s beautiful and that there’s nothing at all she needs to change and she’d smile like she believes him because half the time, it doesn’t reach her eyes and she murmurs a “thanks” that doesn’t sound even half convinced.

Mirroring his movements, she reaches up and twirls a strand of his dark curls around her finger. Humming in thought, she continues timidly, “You don’t wish I looked more like—“ She lifts the magazine up to him, showing him the two page spread of the members of Girlschool posing with their all-leather get ups and dark smoky eyes. “Them?”

“What?” He scoffs, grabbing the magazine and tossing it aside after giving it a spare, half-hearted glance. “I like you absolutely fine the way you are, Cunningham. Wouldn’t have you any other way.” He catches her wrist in a grip that's both gentle and demanding attention, and the way he looks at her, dark brown gaze focused and intense, makes her feel like she’s on fire in all the best ways. “I mean it.” 

“You’re too good to me.” She mumbles, her bottom lip trembling as her eyes go watery, tears brimming along the edges. She desperately tries to blink them back in somehow, willing them not to break free and spill down her cheeks but they do anyway. Embarrassed, Chrissy covers her face with her hands and apologizes for being so silly.

“Hey, hey. C’mere. Sit up, sweetheart.” Eddie moves his leg off of her and helps pull her up as she gets into a seated position between his bent legs facing him with her own legs tucked beneath her. The skin of his palms are a little rough, his fingertips calloused, but his touch is so gentle with her as he takes her wrists, removing her hands away from her face. Letting go of her wrists, his hands come to frame her face, his thumbs wiping away anymore tears he finds skirting down her cheeks.

“Listen to me, you deserve everything good, Chris. And, I’m gonna bust my ass giving that to you, alright?" Leaning forward, he peppers her face with kisses, brushing the tip of his nose against hers. "Don't pretend to be anyone else for me. Shit, not for anybody. I like you just the way you are." He pulls back slightly so his eyes can meet hers. "I promise."