#cheers2hellcheer

They traipse out onto the field and wait for their entrance. The bleachers are busier than Chrissy expected - their basketball team is better so those games are always packed but apparently people still love football. 

There’s a harsh whisper behind her, a sudden giggle, and Chrissy swallows. These days she has a good instinct for when the laughter is about her. 

If they knew the truth, they’d understand. But they don’t. She’s been with Jason since middle school. She’s always had that title to match her other equally perfect ones. Chrissy Cunningham. Head Cheerleader. Queen of Hawkins High. Prom Committee, Spring Fling Queen, Jason’s girl. 

Funny how without the perfect boyfriend that all of her other accolades meant nothing at all. How easily they branded her with a scarlet letter across her chest. 

Their coach signals them with her hand just as the band starts to play. Chrissy forces a bright smile onto her face and then they’re being pushed out onto the field. It almost feels too much, the bright lights, the noise, the stamping of feet on the bleachers. 

Sometimes Chrissy looks at her life and just hates it. 

There’s cheering as they bound out, shouting and waving their poms. For everyone else, this is fun, a Friday night football game. For Chrissy, it’s something meant to be endured. 

Especially as when she looks out across the crowd she sees the one face she had hoped wouldn’t be here. 

Jason’s in the stands, hands folded, looking right at her. She should have known. Even though he’s not on the team, he must have thought that this would be a place he could get her alone.

He hasn’t taken their break up quietly. He left her notes in her locker, flowers at her house. Got her mother involved, got her friends involved. Begged and pleaded for her not to throw her life away, as though that’s something he has a say in. 

He’s tried and failed during school hours. It’s easier to slip away from him, to hide behind teachers. And no matter what he says, he doesn’t dare try to talk to her near Eddie, not after last time. That had certainly ensured the entire school knew about it within a matter of days - Jason Carver and Eddie Munson fighting on school grounds over her. 

She’d had to get involved. She didn’t want Eddie to get suspended or expelled, not when they’re so close. She’s kept it all a secret - if anyone finds out that they’re leaving after graduation, her mother would have a fit. 

Jason’s smile pins her feet to the floor. He’s so sure of himself, like this is just a glitch in the eventual road to the white dress and chapel, the picket fence and modern suburbia that he has planned for them. But she’s not that girl anymore, if she ever was. 

“Can you imagine giving him up for the local freak?” someone snorts from behind her and this time there’s a louder cluster of giggles. Normally, Chrissy ignores it. Today she whirls around to face Marcy and the flicker of shock across her face is satisfaction enough. 

“Then you date him,” she snaps, grateful that the band is still too loud for anyone to hear them. “Now move!”

It goes to show how stunned they are that they all let her push them into their first routine without complaint. Chrissy just dances, letting the familiar moves wash everything away. She hates the pageantry of it all but she still loves this. Maybe she can still find a way to dance when they get to LA. 

She gets through the first dance and the second, the players arriving on the field. They have to perform at halftime and she wonders if she can just slip away after. If she gives Jason half a chance, he’ll follow her back to her car, insisting on driving home with her. And then she’ll be trapped at the dining room table, watching her mother quiz him about colleges and wanting to know why they ever broke up in the first place. 

At least she can take comfort in knowing that Jason would never tell Laura about Eddie. He’s not about to admit that his girlfriend of nearly five years left him for someone like Eddie Munson. 

They have to wait on the sidelines once the game starts and Chrissy stands as far away from Jason as possible. Not that it matters - Jason pushes himself up, like he means to climb across the seats to get to her. 

So when someone reaches out with a hand to grab her elbow she shrieks, and the sound is lost amongst the roar of the crowd. 

“Eddie!” she gasps and lets him swing her up into his arms. If the brawl in the cafeteria didn’t confirm their relationship this certainly will and she finds she truly doesn’t care. 

“A little birdie told me,” Eddie says and gently puts her down. “That there may be an unwanted guest attending the game this evening.”

Chrissy turns and sure enough, Jason is frozen in place, lip curled up in disgust as he looks at Eddie. No, looks at Eddie’s hand still wrapped around her waist. 

“You heard right,” she says and her voice wobbles a little. Eddie never even goes to pep rallies and he came to a game, just for her. 

“So this is football,” he says, looking over her head at the field. He wrinkles his nose a little at the players, the green and orange uniforms. “It’s…what I expected.”

“What was that?” she asks, leaning into his chest just a little. He smells of smoke and cinnamon, and something woodsy, like the inside of a guitar. 

“A glorified game of fetch,” he says bluntly. “I’m glad I got to see you do your thing though.” He mimes waving poms again and she stifles a laugh.

She doesn't remember laughing with Jason much.

"You coming over this evening?" Eddie asks, dropping his arms.

"Yeah," she says, because she's started spending what nights she can get away with Eddie. "If Wayne doesn't mind."

"He never minds," Eddie says easily and even though he should look out of place in his Hellfire t-shirt and boots, he really looks like he doesn't care. She wants to be like that too, unbothered by anyone else's thoughts of her. "I think he likes you better than me at times."

Chrissy ignores the almost palpable aura of hostility from her fellow cheerleaders and leans up to kiss his cheek. Everyone already knows - she may as well embrace starting her Senior year off with a little bit of scandal. Start as you mean to go on.

“A few more months,” he says, resting his cheek on her head. “Then we’re out of here.”

“Yeah,” Chrissy echoes, and the crowd suddenly roars. She must have missed the team scoring a goal. “Then we’re out.”

“You okay?” Eddie asks suddenly, tugging on the end of her ponytail. Jason appears to have slunk back to his seat. He’s clearly not willing to risk another fight, especially when Chrissy looks far from being held against her will. 

“Yeah,” Chrissy says, feeling safe for the first time all night. “I am now.”

@hellcheeranniversaryweek

Their pompoms pumped the air as they gave their final chant "GO, FIGHT, WIN!" and before she knew it, the announcer was welcoming the marching band and color guard to the field. Halftime finally, thank goodness.

She looked up to the top of the stands and expected to find a lanky metalhead with a Cheshire grin, but his spot was suspiciously empty.

Chrissy turned to Abby Lancaster, one of their best flyers, "I'm gonna get a drink from concessions, I'll be right back!" and walked off before the girl could even give an affirmative nod.

She made her way through the crowd of people milling around as the show began and found a small gap to crawl underneath the bleachers. It wasn't long before she saw the glowing cherry of a lone cigarette in the darkness.

"T-I-G-E-R-S! GO TIGERS GO!" Eddie cheered in a high, girlish voice while waving his arms in an uncoordinated attempt at a cheer routine. "You looked pretty good out there, princess," he chuckled warmly, flicking the cigarette aside.

"Oh yeah?" she said with sweet smile. "You think we can cheer them all the way to the championships?" She made her way to him and placed her hands on his chest, gazing up at him adoringly.

"Can you? Absolutely yes. Do I want you to? Fuck no. I want these fuckers to lose every game. I hate having to sacrifice Friday nights with my girl." His girl. Eddie Munson's secret girlfriend. The thought always set her cheeks ablaze.

"If I'm your girl why haven't you kissed me yet?" she pouted playfully.

With a smile he cradled her face and leaned down for a gentle kiss. A kiss that quickly turned heated. Her hands made their way to his hair, scraping his scalp and pulling a moan from him that she swallowed down eagerly. His hands inevitably made their way under her cheer skirt, squeezing and kneading her ass as his teeth and tongue turned her brain into fuzzy television static.

Somehow she broke away from their kiss, panting and still holding onto a fistful of his hair. She stared at his kiss swollen lips and then looked up into the rich chocolate of his wide eyes, a perfect shaft of light from the bright field lights illuminating the warm, brown canyons found in his irises. The cacophony of sound around them didn't even seem to touch them here in this private dark place.

She touched her forehead to his. "I missed you," she whispered desperately, her heart still beating erratically from their kiss.

"You're telling me," he huffed out a laugh, "Longest fucking week of my life."

She toyed with the chain around his neck, "But we're together now. And I plan on sneaking under the bleachers with you every game, just so you know."

He smiled and looked deeply into her eyes, "Whatever you want, princess."