A New Chance at Life
Part 2 of the Their Year (‘86, Baby!) series
A Stranger Things Fanfic
Trigger warning: mentions of abuse and eating disorders
Chrissy woke with her heart racing and sweat plastering her hair and pajamas against her skin. Images from her nightmares played in her head over and over. She breathed slowly and looked around her room, focusing on details that pointed out she was home.
When the images didn’t fade, she slid out of bed and crept down to her brother’s bedroom. She peeked through the door and saw him sleeping soundly in bed. Then she crept down to her parents’ room. They slept too, and she breathed a little easier.
When she got back to her room, she curled up on her bed, tucked her head into her arms, and cried.
She didn’t go back to sleep that night.
Her alarm went off, and, when she had washed her face and put on makeup, she had no trace of the tears or sleeplessness.
She ran downstairs to eat breakfast. She was careful not to let her mother see, but she had been trying to eat more lately. (Robin had pointed out you couldn’t run from monsters on an empty stomach, and Nancy had told her it wasn’t possible to please everyone, so you might as well just worry about yourself, which seemed like strange advice coming from Nancy Wheeler, but she was growing to appreciate it.)
The high school seemed to be growing bigger, louder, and more tiring every day. Chrissy looked around and spotted Eddie in the corner talking to a few of his friends. She headed in their direction, and, when he spotted her, he pulled away from them and walked toward her.
“I’ll be right back,” she heard him call over his shoulder.
“Hi!” she said when he joined her.
“Hi. Did you need something?” The question might have sounded rude, but his expression was simply perplexed. He glanced around the room, and she knew he thought she was strange for being willing to talk to him in public.
“I–I actually had a question.”
“Shoot.”
She tugged on her ponytail and looked at the ground. “Do you–” she lowered her voice. “Do you have nightmares?”
He blinked. “If you thought I could hear that, you’ve vastly underestimated how much my music has damaged my hearing.”
She raised her voice. “Do you have nightmares?”
“Better,” he said with a nod. “And no.”
Her heart sank.
“You know, being chased by a mind-killing squid creature and a bunch of mutant bats happens on such a regular basis for me, so what’s there to have nightmares about?” She laughed and he grinned sympathetically. “Yeah, I have them too.”
She looked down and tugged on the end of her jacket. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
Everything. “For letting me know I’m not crazy.”
“Oh, you’re definitely crazy, but so are all the rest of us.” She smiled, and he cast a glance around the room before quickly squeezing her shoulder. “You should get to class. Don’t want to ruin that perfect reputation of yours by being late cause you were talking to Eddie Munson.”
She hurried off because she really didn’t want to be late (though she couldn’t care less who knew she had been talking to him), but she threw a grin over her shoulder at him.
He nodded and gave a mock salute.
She broke up with Jason a week and a half after spring break.
She needed a few days of just quiet first without having to worry how he would take it. When she finally worked up the courage, she asked him to go for a drive with her.
It was quick, smooth, and completely alone. No one else had to watch her stammer out some semblance of a reason like a fool, and he could tell his friends whatever he wanted about the why. She didn’t care what they did. (Well, if she was completely honest, she wanted his friends to cut her off. She was tired and wanted to be left alone for the next two months before she graduated and could leave for college.)
He took it better than expected. He listened to her jumbled explanation, nodded along, and drove her home, assuring her he wasn’t angry every time she asked. His friends left her mostly alone, but they didn’t treat her any differently, and she started to feel like maybe everything was ok.
Then Chance asked them on a double date to celebrate graduation.
“Didn’t you tell them we broke up?” Chrissy asked when she got Jason alone after school.
He exhaled slowly. “No, I didn’t mention it.”
“Why not?”
His I’m-trying-to-be-patient look settled on his face. “Listen, I know you’ve had a rough couple weeks and you want some space right now, but I thought it would be easier if they didn’t know we’re taking a break–”
“We’re not taking a break, Jason!” He opened his mouth, but she raised her voice and tried to ignore how high-pitched and hysterical she sounded. “We broke up!"
“I know, I know.” He held up his hands defensively. “But, Chrissy, we’ve been dating for three years, and you want to throw that away, what, because you’ve had a stressful week?”
“A stressful week? I almost died!” And that had nothing to do with why she was breaking up with him, but right now she was too angry to think straight.
“Yes, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it like that.” It didn’t sound like an apology. It sounded like a parent trying to soothe a toddler throwing a tantrum.
“I broke up with you, Jason, and I’m not changing that, no matter what you think my reasons are. I’m not going to come back crying in a week or whatever you think. I’m not dating you anymore!” She knew any more arguing would not work in her favor, especially as fellow students were starting to stare, so she spun around on her heels and marched off.
“Chrissy!” Jason grabbed her arm, and she yanked away from him. His lip curled and she kept walking. “Is it because of that freak? You’re leaving me to run straight to him?"
She shouldn’t argue anymore. She shouldn’t. She spun around anyway. “What?”
“Andy and Chance told me you’ve been hanging around him lately. I didn’t believe it.”
“I’ve talked to him a few times because he saved my life!"
“Yeah? And how do you know it wasn’t him that put it in danger to begin with?”
She burned with anger and wanted to cry. She settled with running away, but as soon as she climbed into her car, she cried anyway.
When she managed to stop, she wiped the tears from her face carefully to keep all trace from showing. She studied her reflection in the mirror to make sure she hadn’t smudged her makeup, then she started the car and drove home.
The house was empty. Her parents were at work, and Brian was out with friends. She picked up the phone.
“Hello, you have reached the Munson residence. What can I do for you?” His tone was dull and she imagined him reading a book or planning out a new campaign (the details of which she was still foggy on) with the phone balanced on his shoulder.
“Eddie, it’s me, Chrissy.”
“Chrissy!” His tone immediately changed, and the thunk that followed only confirmed her theory. “You okay?”
She shook her head, though she knew he couldn’t see, and sniffed away the tears that threatened again. “Not really.”
“Not–no monsters or anything, right?”
“No!” she said quickly. “Definitely not. Just . . . high school drama, I guess.”
“Sheesh. I’d almost prefer the monsters.” She chuckled. “What’s going on?”
“I broke up with Jason a few days ago.”
“Good for you.”
She leaned her head against the wall. “I thought he was being really nice about it, but today I found out that he still hasn’t told his friends because apparently he thought we were still together or something.”
She could almost hear him roll his eyes.
“And then when I made it clear that we are very much not still together, he practically accused me of cheating on him!”
Eddie laughed. “You? Really? Who exactly are you cheating with?”
“You apparently.”
He was silent and Chrissy wished she hadn’t mentioned it. She chewed her lip. “Are you there, Eddie?”
“Yeah. Yeah, sorry. I’m just still getting over the fact that he actually believes we’re dating.” He sounded amused, and she relaxed. He wasn’t mad.
She twirled her hair around her finger. It probably shouldn’t have irritated her that he found the idea so crazy. “He’s probably going to start some rumors.”
Eddie cursed dryly. “You know, I’ve been called a demon, a murderer, and a kidnapper, but dating Chrissy Cunningham? I draw the line there.”
She laughed. “Well, as long as you know . . .”
“Listen, Chrissy, don’t worry too much about it. We’ve only got two months, and then we’re outta there!”
She smiled. “You’re right. Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
“Christina Cunningham!”
Polite applause filled the gymnasium. Eddie rolled his eyes. These people needed to lighten up a bit.
He stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled. A bunch of students and parents turned to glare at him, but Chrissy, standing there on the stage in a green robe, clutching her diploma, met his eyes in the crowd and beamed.
He clapped harder than anyone else and out of rhythm too. He heard someone yell behind him and turned to find Henderson, Sinclair, Wheeler, and Mayfield all grinning and clapping.
He tuned out most of the rest of the names. There were only two parts of this ceremony he cared about, and one was still to come.
He couldn’t sit still. His leg bounced like a wind-up toy, and he tapped his fingers on his chair.
Then, finally, “Edward Munson!”
He walked on that stage, calm as could be, perfectly polite as he received his diploma. When he threw the rude gesture in the principal’s face, at least half the audience gasped. His eyes searched out Chrissy’s. She shook her head, but she was laughing.
Henderson whooped and cheered. Sinclair, Mayfield, and Wheeler clapped and cheered as well, but his eyes kept beind drawn back to Chrissy’s smile.
His eyes and smile widened, and he let his tongue hand out of his mouth. The teachers sighed and rolled their eyes as he walked off the stage. Wayne shook his head and tried to hide the way his shoulders shook as well.
But Chrissy? Chrissy was smiling.
And honestly, that was the best part of the day.
“And your parents really don’t mind that you’re out all day even though you’re leaving for college early tomorrow morning?” Eddie asked.
They really didn’t. “I told them I’m saying goodbye to friends, which is true, but I didn’t tell them which friends.”
He was sprawled across the couch, his feet pulled up to leave some room for her if she chose to sit. He laid perfectly still, and the way his arms hung onto the floor made it clear he was sulking, though he would never admit it. She wouldn’t have noticed last semester, but that was before they had spent almost the entire summer together.
She sat beside him. “What are you going to do?”
“I’ve got a job.”
“Besides that.”
He shrugged, which made him slide further off the couch. “Play guitar, listen to music. Henderson told me I should come to Hellfire one night.”
She picked at her shorts. “I’m going to miss you.”
He smirked. “Will you?”
“Of course I will!” And she would. She’d miss the way he made her feel safe simply by staying close. She’d miss the effortless way he made her laugh. She’d miss that nervous smile of his, like he didn’t quite know why she was there, but he was glad she was.
He sat up and leaned on one knee. “I guess I’ll just have to write then.”
She straightened and smiled. “Will you, really?”
He laughed, folded his arms, and settled back into the couch. “I’m no good at writing letters, but sure, I’ll write.” His grin widened. “I’ll write so often it embarrasses you in front of all your new college friends.”
“You won’t embarrass me!”
His eyes lit up. “I’ll take that as a challenge.”
She giggled. “And I’ll take that as a promise.”
When there was a knock on the trailer door at midnight, Eddie was sure it must be Henderson, though it did seem a little late for him to be out. After all, no one ever came to the Munson trailer, and certainly not at that time of night, but Henderson always picked the strangest times to call about campaign ideas or to ask for advice.
Eddie tucked away the song lyrics he was writing (no way he was showing the kid that) and got up to answer the door.
“Surprise!” a cheery, female voice said before his eyes adjusted to the darkness.
He blinked away the spots in his eyes and stared at the girl in front of him. “Chrissy? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at school?”
She flashed a dazzling smile. “I’m on break! I just got here.”
His mind felt five steps behind. “Oh! That’s–that’s great. Do you want to come in?” She nodded and followed him inside.
“It’s kinda late,” he muttered as he tried to kick some junk under the couch.
“Oh, sorry. I hope I didn’t wake you up.”
“No, no, no, that’s not what I meant. It’s late to just be getting here. What time did you leave?”
“I left as soon as my last class finished, but it’s a long drive. What were you doing before I got here? I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“Nah, I was just writing some ideas for a song.”
Her eyes lit up. “Oh, can I see?”
“Nope,” he said, popping the P. “No one’s allowed to see the first drafts. How’s school?”
She nodded. “I like it.”
That didn’t quite feel like an answer, but he didn’t press. He’d ask something more specific later.
He folded his arms and cocked his head as he studied her. “Now, don’t get me wrong, you know I like spending time with you, but why are you here? It’s already midnight, and your house is on the other side of town.” Last year he wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but he knew how dangerous Hawkins could be, and he didn’t like the idea of her being out so late alone.
She looked down at her shoes like a child caught doing something wrong. “I know. I didn’t think it would take me that long to get to Hawkins, and I had already decided I wanted to come here first.”
“Do your parents know you were planning to come today?”
“No.”
“Why don’t you stay the night?” The question came out before he realized it, and he wished he could take it back.
Her eyes widened. “What?”
He shrugged and glanced away. “I can sleep on the couch tonight, and in the morning, I can drive you–well, I guess you’ve got your car here, so you can drive yourself home.”
“Oh, no, no, I couldn’t. I don’t want to intrude–”
He turned back with a cocky smile. “Aw, you know Wayne loves you, and I offered, didn’t I? You wouldn’t be intruding.”
She shifted from one foot to the other. “If–if you’re sure . . .”
“Course.” He wrapped his arms around his chest and tucked his hands under his arms. “Now, I gotta ask. Obviously I’m flattered that you wanted to come here first, but why?”
She looked away and picked at the hem of her shirt. “School is . . . good. Really it is. Much better than high school–”
“Isn’t hard to beat that,” Eddie interjected, and Chrissy smiled.
“–But it’s hard.”
He tilted his head. “You’ve always made such good grades, I’m surprised.”
“That’s not the part that’s hard,” she said. “Well, it is, but I really meant . . . well, making friends.” She buried her head in her hands. “I’m sure I sound silly, but I can’t remember the last time I made a friend that wasn’t chosen for me.” She peeked up and gave Eddie a shy grin. “Well, besides you. I’ve actually been trying to be more like you lately.”
Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. “Like me?"
“Yeah. I mean, you don’t care what other people think about you.” He was glad she didn’t know how untrue that was. “And I’ve been trying to do that too. To figure out what I really like and what I really want, to make the friends I want, and–and I love it, but it’s exhausting, and I’m not good at it, and I–I miss my family and I’ll be glad to see them tomorrow, but being around them is tiring too.”
She twisted the end of her ponytail around her finger and met his eyes. “You’re just–easier to be around, to talk to.”
He swallowed and dropped his hands. That was simultaneously the best and worst thing she could have said. It would be so much easier to ignore if she hadn’t been staring at him like that. Hadn’t fixed him with those big, pleading eyes, lined with glittery eyeshadow that just made them look brighter. With that slight pout to her lips as though she was preparing for him to take her words badly. With those quivering hands still twirling her hair.
He took a step back and swallowed again, staring at her and knowing full well he should stop.
Her eyebrows drew together, and he wanted to iron out every wrinkle on her forehead. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.
He cleared his throat and forced a chuckle. “Cause I’m thinking something ridiculous.”
“Really?”
He couldn’t look away. “Oh, yeah. Totally crazy. Certifiable, in fact.”
“Oh. Well . . . I’m thinking something crazy too.”
He shook his head. “Not this crazy. No way.”
She took a step closer, eyes turned up to meet his innocently. “Are you sure?”
He didn’t move, didn’t say a word, because if he was wrong (and surely he must be. There was no good reason for Chrissy Cunningham to be looking at him like that), then he sure wasn’t messing this up. He wasn’t going to lose her again, not to any monster, and certainly not to his own fantasies.
Chrissy stepped forward again. “Should we see whose is crazier?” she whispered, then she stood on her toes and kissed him softly.
His first thought was that she tasted like cherry lipgloss (he had tried eating some as a kid, assuming it tasted like candy. His uncle still made fun of him for it). His second was that he better not just stand there like an idiot, because he sure wasn’t messing this up either.
The problem was, as soon as he tried to move, he couldn’t stop. His hands wouldn’t settle. They skimmed over her arms, her cheeks, her waist, her hair, barely touching her. Finally, she caught them in hers, twining their fingers together.
Her hands were warm and soft and he wondered what she thought of his calluses. The nervous energy kept running through his hands, and he drew his thumbs up and down the sides of her palms.
When she stepped back and let go of his hands, he shoved them in his pockets. “Whose idea was crazier?” she asked.
He blinked, trying to remember what she was talking about. Their earlier conversation seemed days ago.
He licked his lips. “I, uh, I think it was a tie.” And before his pounding heart or trembling hands could stop him, he leaned forward and crushed his lips against hers. She gaped at him as he pulled away, then she started giggling.
“Wh–what?” he asked, unable to help matching her smile.
She buried her face in her hands and shook her head. “I don’t know.” She grinned up at him. “I really like you, Eddie.”
“I really like you too.” And saying that was easy, because no matter how his feelings had changed over the past year, he had ‘really like her’ since that middle school talent show when he had watched her dance (sure it was technically cheering, but it was a kind of dance, wasn’t it?) and realized that maybe they had more in common than he had thought.
The couch was probably the least comfortable piece of furniture in the trailer, which was really saying something, but when Eddie opened his eyes the next morning and saw Chrissy searching the kitchen, wearing the jacket he had painted “Metallica” onto years ago over a yellow sundress, he decided he could get used to it.
He sat up. “Morning.”
She glanced up, startled, then smiled brightly. “Good morning.”
He found his leather jacket on the floor and put it over his pajama shirt, then joined her in the kitchen.
“Your uncle got home a little while ago and went to bed. He said I could borrow one of his jackets.” She tugged on the corner of the old fabric.
Wayne had always been very supportive of his interests (well, not so much with the drugs), but he wouldn’t be caught dead in a shirt that advertised Metallica, which Eddie was sure she knew by now. “That one’s mine, actually.”
Her eyes widened, and her mouth formed a perfect “o”. “It is?”
He grinned. She was a terrible liar. “Yeah, but you’re welcome to it. I used to wear it all the time, but now I just wear this one.” He grabbed the corners of his jacket and held them out on display.
“It’s a very nice jacket.”
“You looking for food?” he asked, and she nodded.
“Let’s see, we have . . .” He opened the near-empty fridge. “A bad need to go to the store.” He tapped on the fridge door as he studied the contents, then grabbed an egg carton. “You want eggs?”
“Sure, but can you cook?” she asked hesitantly.
Eddie laughed. “If any cooking gets done around here, it’s by Wayne, but I can scramble an egg.”
“I found the pans earlier!” She ran over to the cabinet and pulled one out. He took it, turned on the stove, and cracked a few eggs into it.
She leaned her elbows on the counter and watched him stir the eggs. She looked so fascinated that he couldn’t help but laugh.
“I take it you don’t cook?” he asked.
“No. Nobody ever taught me.”
“Me neither, but making scrambled eggs is just about the easiest thing in the world. Just toss some eggs in a pan, put it on medium-ish heat, and stir until they’re cooked. Simple.”
“Can I try?”
Eddie furrowed his brow. “I mean, if you want to, sure.” He handed her the fork and she stirred the murky yellow liquid.
“I want to learn to cook.” Her voice was so quiet he almost wasn’t sure he actually heard it.
“So learn. Buy a cookbook or something.”
She chewed her lip. He stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“You could, you know, try it over here. On breaks and things.” He grinned. “We aren’t picky. We’ll probably eat anything, so even if you mess up some, it’ll get eaten.”
She peeked up at him and grinned.
He felt his own lips quirk up at the sight of that smile. The sound of the fork against the pan fell into a rhythm, and, to his surprise, she started to hum along. He didn’t recognize the song. Probably some pop song he avoided like the plague, but it didn’t sound so bad like this.
He watched her, humming in his kitchen, wearing his jacket, that smile tugging on her lips, and, without quite realizing what he was doing, he stepped behind her and hugged her.
She let out a little squeak and dropped the fork into the pan. “Oh, I lost the fork! I’m sorry.”
“Eh, it’s fine.” She settled back into his arms, and he decided he could hardly let go of her now. With one arm around her waist, he dug through the drawer with the other and found a second fork. Using both hands now, but keeping his arms around her, he used the clean fork to maneuver the first one out of the pan, let the handle cool a second, then tossed it into the sink. He handed her the new one.
“Thank you,” she murmured. He bent down to rest his chin on her shoulder and noticed her wrinkle her nose. “Obviously I need more practice.”
“Or just a teacher who doesn’t startle you.”
She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “No, probably more practice.”
He laughed and tightened his arms around her.
Oh, yes. He could get used to this.