Chapter Seven
Cassette Tapes

"Sorry for snotting on your shirt." That was the first thing Betty said to Eddie once they pulled up outside his trailer. He parked the van and set the handbrake on, a smile cracking at his lips as he looked across at her. Betty's brows furrowed. "What?" She asked.

Eddie chuckled, shaking his head. "I don't know. Just wasn't expecting that to be the first thing you said to me. You're good though. I mean–" He tugged at the collar of his shirt. "This thing's probably seen better days anyway."

Her nose wrinkled. "It definitely has now."

"Yeah."

They lapsed into another silence. It'd been quiet between them the majority of the journey back. Betty had spent most of the time staring out of the window, willing herself not to cry again – she was like a fucking tap, as soon as she started she couldn't stop. It was highly embarrassing. Also, so was lowering her guard, especially around Eddie. They had spent the past seven months keeping a generously safe distance from one another (both physically and emotionally) but all of that had been completely destroyed now. Oops.

Eddie hadn't known what to say to her. Nothing would make the pain Betty was feeling any better. The situation was shit. Really shit. All Eddie could do was be there for her. But, by doing that, he'd thrown their entire – I'm gonna be extra mean and moody around you so that we don't accidentally slip back into old habits – unspoken agreement into complete disarray. So, yeah. Oops.

"Do you, uh, wanna check out the car?"

Betty unclipped her seatbelt. "Yeah, sure."

"Hopefully good ol' Baby hasn't died on me since this morning."

Betty's lips tugged. "Aw. You used her name."

"Yeah, I came round to it," Eddie said, pushing open the van door. "After I watched that stupid film you're so obsessed with."

Betty gawked at him. "No way."

"Yes way."

She hopped out the van. "You finally watched Bringing Up Baby? I love that film!"

"Not entirely willingly, but yes."

Betty excitedly drummed her hands against the side of the vehicle. "Oh, I bet you secretly enjoyed it too!"

"It was..." Eddie trailed. Betty's eyebrows raised. He sighed in defeat. "It was better than expected."

She grinned. "I knew it!" Then her expression dropped, forehead creasing. "After all those times I begged you to watch it with me..."

Eddie's stomach flipped. Shit. He could see how that might look bad.

"Well, I missed you, what can I say," he responded. And it was the truth. The opportunity had arisen to watch the film and, despite the hurt it would cause him, he decided to. Because it reminded him of her. What else could Eddie say? Maybe he was a masochist. Betty stared up at him. Eddie cleared his throat. Abort, abort, abort. "Anyway, I see what you mean about Katharine Hepburn."

Betty tried to get over her mind spin. I missed you. I missed you. I missed you. It wasn't the first time he'd said it. Hell, even her dumb ass had admitted it back in the woods. But it stirred something inside her. Like, emotionally.

"Oh, uh, yeah," Betty fumbled over her words, trying to remember how to form sentences. Focus. Katharine Hepburn. Wait no, that wasn't going to help. "She's gorgeous right?"

Eddie snuck a glance at her. Hepburn wasn't anywhere near as gorgeous as Betty, but sure. "Yeah."

They went silent again as they approached Betty's Toyota. Eddie reached into his jeans pockets for the keys. They jangled as he picked them out and tossed them towards her. She caught the keys easily, twirling the silver hoop key-ring over her finger. And like, okay, Eddie was aware she'd just been a complete wreck sobbing on his shoulder not even half an hour ago, but god she was so hot.

Betty unlocked the car and stepped in. Eddie leaned both arms either side of the open doorway. Her eyes lingered a fraction too long on his muscles.

"Should be good to go," Eddie told her. "Just start her up."

Betty slotted the key into the ignition and turned it. There was a pause. And then the engine rumbled to life. She let out a quiet cheer, looking up at him with bright eyes and a beaming smile – a reaction that made staying up all night to fix the car totally worth it.

"You, Eddie Munson–" Betty began, ducking her head underneath the doorframe as she climbed back out. "–are a lifesaver. How much do you want for this?"

He shook his head dismissively. "I told you, I don't want your money."

"Eddie–"

"No arguments," he interjected. "I already overcharged you for the weed anyway."

Betty glared at him. "I knew you had, asshole." Eddie responded with an impish smile that suggested he definitely wasn't sorry about it. "Thank you. Seriously. I owe you."

"Least I could do." He shrugged. "And hey, look. I know we kinda had that whole unspoken no talking rule, which we've broken, like, a hundred times in the last twenty four hours, but if you ever need to talk about– well, about anything..." He hesitated. "The offer's there. If you just wanna get high and talk shit like we used to then–" He took a deep breath, composing himself. Since when did speaking become so fucking hard? "What I'm trying to say is, don't be a stranger, 'kay? And stop bottling everything up."

Betty stared up at him with a soft smile.

And then she did something unexpected.

She hugged him.

It took them both by surprise; the way she launched into him, naturally moving onto her tiptoes, flinging her arms around his neck. But the pair eased into the embrace, into each other's warmth. And it felt so right; her nose brushing against the crook of his neck, her flyaway hairs tickling underneath his chin. His arms wrapped around her waist, touching the exposed skin where her shirt had ridden up.

Eddie breathed her in, that ridiculously expensive, but incredibly intoxicating, Chanel perfume that smelled like spiced wood and orange and vanilla. He'd missed the way it used to linger against his clothes, on his pillow, in his van. So he held Betty tighter, because he hadn't in over six months. He held her tighter, because he knew she needed it. And Eddie needed it too. Needed her.

Betty closed her eyes, let the whole world melt around her. But as she gradually pulled away, eyes travelling up to meet his again, a hard dose of reality hit her like a brick. Because standing outside the trailer opposite, watching them both, was a girl from their school.

Betty hurriedly pulled back, tucking her arms back down to her sides. Realising she'd been caught, the ginger girl turned on her heel, jamming her key in the front door. Eddie frowned, looking over his shoulder.

"Who...uh, who is that?" Betty asked, shifting her weight. "She goes to our school right?"

"Oh, Max?" Eddie asked. Then he realised why Betty was acting so shifty. The same reason everything had collapsed on them last year – she didn't want to get caught. "Oh. Yeah, no, don't worry about her, she's cool. Friends with Dustin, I think."

"Who the hell is Dustin?"

"One of the kids in Hellfire," Eddie answered. "Curly hair, bit like a 'fro. Kind of irritating. Pretty sure he's tight with your brother."

"I never really take much notice of who Bran hangs out with," Betty said. Her eyes darted consciously back to Max's trailer. "I should, um, I should probably go. Gotta get ready for the game tonight."

"Right," Eddie nodded. "Yeah."

"You should..." Betty deliberated. She met his gaze. Fuck it. "You should come."

Eddie's brows raised. Oh. "That's..." Unexpected? Nice? Slightly confusing? 

"I know it's not really your thing," she rushed out. "Just–" would make me feel so much better. "–would be cool, um, to see you there and stuff." Betty looked down at the ground, biting her lip. Idiot. "Uh...you know what, don't wanna make this weird so, forget I asked." She forced a tight lipped smile. "Thanks again for the car. Seriously. I'll see you around, I guess."

Betty turned to leave. Eddie gently caught her wrist. She stopped and faced him, eyebrows arched expectantly. "Not that I'd turn down an opportunity to see you in that cute little outfit," he started. Betty immediately felt like she was on fire. "But I've got a D&D campaign tonight."

Her mouth went dry. She licked her bottom lip, trying her best to recover and be cool about it. "Be real, Munson, like you would've come anyway."

"I might."

Betty chuckled, shaking her head. "Right. And I'm a hardcore Metallica fan," she said sarcastically, taking a step backwards. "Have fun with your dumb club, loser."

"Good luck at your dumb game, Angel." Eddie buried his hands in his pockets as he watched her traipse back to the car. "Break a leg...or, uh, don't actually."

Betty hovered behind the drivers side door with a grin. "I'll try."

Eddie smiled. Then caught himself.

Jesus Christ. Get over it.

–

It was a night of firsts, apparently.

The first time one of Eddie's D&D campaigns had been won by an eleven year old girl. The first time the Tigers had won the basketball championship. And it was the first time Eddie had invited a Hawkins High cheerleader into his van that wasn't Betty.

Chrissy Cunningham was nice and all; she had a cute smile and big, round doe eyes that made her seem sweet and unassuming. But there was no doubt about it that, whilst Betty was a far more intimidating presence, she was still one that Eddie knew how to act around.

Chrissy was entirely different territory.

He didn't want to come across badly (Chrissy had already admitted when they'd first met that she thought he'd be mean and scary) but he also didn't want to stray from his reputation too much. Eddie definitely couldn't have her going around telling her friends that he wasn't actually that terrifying. At least with Betty he knew she'd always maintain the "Eddie Munson is a douchebag" front.

Still, Eddie really needed the sale and Chrissy was the perfect buyer; rich and popular. Truthfully, if she was anybody else, he might have used her innocence to overcharge. But he wouldn't do that to somebody so kind. Maybe one of Betty's other friends, sure. But something kept niggling in the back of his mind about Chrissy, a warning of some sort. Maybe it was the fear of Betty finding out? Not that he was scared of her, per say, Eddie wasn't a complete pussy–

Ok. Fine. Maybe he was a little bit.

Betty would certainly string him up if she knew what he was planning to sell Chrissy. Even Eddie, who had a bad habit of sampling his merchandise, had only dabbled in his 'Special K' one time. But he couldn't exactly turn her down, right? And it was better that she bought it from somebody trustworthy, in an environment where she'd be totally safe...yeah, no, Eddie was having many doubts.

Upon Chrissy's request, he had met up with her a few blocks from the school. The basketball team had won their competition and everyone was apparently going out to celebrate. Eddie had asked whether Chrissy's friends would find her absence suspicious, but she explained that she'd made an excuse to join them later.

Eddie hadn't voiced his next question out loud, but Chrissy had answered it anyway, mentioning without prompt that Betty would be at the cheerleading team's party. He always got jealous at the thought of Betty going to parties. Without him. And looking as good as she did. Probably wearing one of those tight dresses or mini skirts, with a pair of high heels to match...

Man, it should be a fucking crime.

Eddie tightened his grip on the steering wheel, tried to concentrate on the road and not let his mind wander to Betty. He side-glanced Chrissy instead. She had been quiet throughout the journey, sat bunched up in the corner, watching out the window distantly. Her shoulders were tight and hunched over. She had one leg crossed over the other, foot rapidly tapping the air. Her fingers picked at the loose threads from the hem of her white cardigan.

Eddie had an inkling that something wasn't right. Chrissy coming to him for drugs...it just didn't seem like the girl he'd learned about through Betty.

And that was another thing. If Betty had any idea of what was happening, he was convinced she'd be concerned for her friend. Something he really needed to take into consideration.

"You know, um," Eddie started, interrupting the uncomfortable silence. "It's not too late to turn back." He dared another look over at her. Chrissy nodded in acknowledgment, but didn't pry her eyes away from the window. "I just– there's no pressure on this or anything," Eddie carried on. "If you change your mind, that's cool. I can drive you back home or to your party or wherever. Just say, okay?"

"Okay." She turned to face him, blonde ponytail swooping over one shoulder. "Thanks."

Eddie nodded in response. The awkward silence crept back in. He fumbled for something to fill it with. His attention landed on a perfect outlet; the stereo.

"Do you wanna choose some music?" He asked, reaching over to open the glovebox. "Got all my tapes inside here."

Chrissy eyes flickered unsurely towards him. Eddie gestured for her to go ahead. She leaned forwards and carefully began rifling through.

"I don't know any of these songs," she admitted quietly.

Eddie responded with an amused smile. He hadn't exactly expected a perfect, preppy cheerleader to be listening to heavy metal. "No, really?" He teased.

She picked up another tape and turned it over. "Oh, I have heard some AC/DC."

Eddie's eyebrows raised in surprise. "You?"

She nodded, smiling. "Me."

"You, Chrissy Cunningham, captain of the cheerleading team, have listened to rock band AC/DC?"

"Yeah," Chrissy laughed softly at his surprise. "I mean, Marnie usually listens to them on her Walkman before performances," she explained. "Says it pumps her up."

Oh, wow. Eddie actually had something in common with Marnie Bryant? Gross.

He'd never understood the appeal in Marnie.  And he certainly couldn't figure out how someone as nice as Chrissy could call the girl her best friend. They were complete opposites. It didn't make much sense. Unless Chrissy had some sort of secret dark side nobody else knew about. In a way, Eddie could kind of see that about her; hiding something deep inside. But still.

The term "stone cold bitch" was often thrown around wherever Marnie was concerned, and it was hard not to disagree. The only quality that gave her even a minuscule shred of his respect was that she never tried to be anything else. What you saw was exactly what you got – a horrible person.

That was something Eddie had found challenging about Betty – she was constantly playing up to expectations. Her family, her friends, society. For most people, it was impossible to know the real Betty. Disguised, hidden, suppressed underneath so many complicated layers. To be honest, Eddie wasn't completely convinced that Chrissy and Marnie even knew her as well as they thought. Not the way he did, at least. And maybe that was special. Maybe he was one of the few people that had ever gotten to know and care about the real Betty Angel.

"Madonna?"

Eddie almost slammed on the breaks. Fuck. That fucking cassette. He'd forgotten all about it.

"I, uh," Eddie stammered. "Wh– what?"

Chrissy had a big grin on her face. "Eddie Munson is a secret Madonna fan?" She taunted. "I would never have gu–"

Chrissy cut herself off as she turned the tape over. Her eyes skimmed over the writing. Eddie knew exactly what had been scrawled on there. Angel.

"Hang on. This is..." Chrissy flipped the tape back and forth. She looked up at him. "Is this..."

Eddie was relieved he wasn't the only person having trouble forming complete sentences.

"I...um...that..." he cleared his throat. "Yeah, I have no idea why that's in there. Like, genuinely, never seen it before in my life." 

Chrissy studied the tape, frown deepening. Eddie considered ramming his van into a tree.

The blonde shook shook her head, fingernail tapping over the scribbled name. "This is definitely Betty's."

Play dumb.

"Whose?"

Idiot!

"I mean– uh, what?" Eddie tried again, running a hand over his face. Oh, man. He was so fucked. Betty was definitely going to kill him. And he'd have to explain how Chrissy found out and then why she was even in his van in the first place, which meant Betty would kill him all over again.

Chrissy's eyes drifted suspiciously between him and the tape. "How did this..."

Think. Think. Think.

"I honestly have no...I–I mean, I think...no, I don't know," Eddie trailed off, resisting the urge to slam his head against the wheel. "Or– oh! Maybe she left it yesterday. You know all about her car trouble, right? I gave her a ride home."

"I just..."

Eddie looked at her unsurely. "What?"

Oh god, what?

"She's been searching for this for months," Chrissy elaborated. "I was planning to buy her a new one for her birthday."

Dammit.

"I–" Eddie tried, he really did. "Well–" He just did not respond well under pressure. At all. "Maybe–" Eddie had no choice but to give in. "Yeah, no, I got nothing."

Chrissy peered up at him. Her glossed lips parted. She hesitated.

Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say it.

Her eyes lowered down to the tape.

Please don't say it.

"Something happened last summer, didn't it?"

Fuck.

Eddie clutched the wheel, swallowing heavily. "What are you...Oh, you mean, like, a drug deal? Yeah. Maybe she left it here when–"

"No," Chrissy shook her head. "Something happened between you both."

Eddie had been caught out. And now he had only two options; deny everything, or tell the truth. Neither one of them was ideal, so instead he...laughed? Eddie was trying to buy himself some time

"What are you talking about?" Eddie forced an amused smile, as if he couldn't believe the absurdity of such an accusation. "Something happen between us? Me and Betty? You– you're kidding right?"

"I–" Chrissy started in a smaller voice, doubting herself. "It's just, I've seen the way you look at each other..."

Shit. Was he that obvious?

"With contempt?" Eddie tried to deflect.

She didn't take the bait. Her brows furrowed as she lost herself in thought. Eddie glanced up in the air and prayed to any god that was listening to help him out.

Chrissy breathed out in realisation. "Everything makes sense now."

Eddie was sweating. "It– it does?"

She straightened up, facing him as her eyes widened. "The boy Betty said she was seeing, when she was sneaking around last summer. The college guy. In the band. That was you, wasn't it?"

"Uhhhh," Eddie hesitated. "...No?"

Chrissy lightly whacked him on the arm with the cassette tape. "Eddie! You two–"

He shook his head vigorously. "No, no, no, no, no."

Chrissy's jaw dropped. "Oh my gosh."

"Nope–"

"Marnie said it was weird how much time you two were spending together, but I always–"

"Nope."

"I always just assumed it was because Betty's obsessed with good grades and–"

"Stop," Eddie held his hand up. "Stop, just stop."

Chrissy pressed her lips together, leaning back against her seat. "Sorry."

"Look, it's not what you think," Eddie lied, quite unconvincingly he had to admit. The corners of Chrissy's mouth curved upwards. "And wipe that smile off your face!"

"Sorry," she whispered again, biting down on her bottom lip.

Eddie glanced over at her disapprovingly. "No you're not."

Chrissy giggled. "I just...think it's sweet."

Eddie exhaled heavily, drumming his fingers against the wheel. Sweet. "Yeah, well...not so much anymore."

The Forest Hills sign grew closer in the distance. Eddie had never been more desperate to escape the confines of the van. It was suffocating in there.

Chrissy studied him for a few quiet moments. "That's why she's been so miserable, isn't it?"

"I mean, I wouldn't give myself that much credit," Eddie responded. "But yeah."

He turned into the trailer park and tried to concentrate on not running over any stray cats (the Ringo incident yesterday evening had scarred him slightly. Stupid cat.)

"What happened?" Chrissy asked. "She seemed so happy. And then it all just..."

"Well, it's probably better to ask her," Eddie said diplomatically. "I mean, I fucked up. Well, we both kind of did. But more so me."

Chrissy watched out the window. She pulled her sweater sleeves over her hands. "Do you know why she never told me about it?"

Eddie hesitated. "Uh..." He released the gas pedal as he pulled up outside his trailer. "It wasn't personal, trust me. Like, she wanted to tell you guys."

Eddie didn't exactly know how to explain those three months of summer to someone who had lived outside of it. No words could ever do it justice.

"Did she think we wouldn't support it?" Chrissy asked, her expression softening. "Did you?"

Eddie immediately shook his head. "Not you. Maybe Marnie, but never you." Chrissy nodded, seeming to relax at that. He exhaled slowly through his nose. "Well, we're here." Eddie reached for the Madonna tape that had been discarded on the seat beside them. "You can give this back to her if you want."

Chrissy went to take it, but then stopped. Gently, she pushed his hand back. "You should do it."

"Me?"

"Yeah." Chrissy smiled encouragingly. "Maybe it'll help you work things out."

A/N

Chrissy a real one for being #1 secret beddie shipper. I am mourning the friendship that could've been