Wisteria (Eddie x Chrissy) ST

The Hideout

Clemen's Bookstore is on the 'bad side' of town. A poorer section where convenient stores, bars, drunks, and punks can be found. The alleyways between the buildings have graffiti, trash, and glass from broken bottles that can be seen when driving past them. That alone is enough to get those who compare it to areas like Loch Nora to turn up their noses. Appearances matter and this section failed miserably.

It's already dark out when the '83 Buick Riviera pulls up in front of the old shop. Chrissy's made multiple trips to this place since freshman year. The bookstore closer to home didn't carry a series she got hooked on. After scouring through the yellow pages, Clemen's came up. The owner is a kind older man who was willing to order books for her if they weren't on the shelves. Right now, it's being used as an excuse to get down here.

"Are you sure you don't want me to wait?"

"No, it's fine. I'm going to be here for a while and have a way home." Hopefully. If not, this will be pretty humiliating. She grabs the purse by her feet and scoots over to open the car door.

"Alright... Stay safe. Give me a call when you get home, okay? So I can have some peace of mind."

"I will. Thanks for the ride." Chrissy smiles and nods, giving her friend a wave before turning away. The glow from the headlights moves across the front of the building as the car reverses. Charlotte's leaving. All she needs to do is take her time walking to the door until the Buick is completely gone.

Once the brunette tears out of the parking lot, she lets out a sigh of relief. Now onto the real plan. It's hard to believe this is happening. She's doing a lot of awful things lately. Hiding stuff from Jason. Lying to him and Charlotte. Keeping secrets from her friends. Sneaking out and going places that would give her dad a stroke if he found out.

They wouldn't understand.

It's only a matter of time. Eventually—maybe sooner than expected—a choice has to be made. Graduation and deadlines are coming up. Her dad, Jason, and his parents are expecting her to go to IU Bloomington. Their semester begins in September. The clock is ticking. Does she go with the plan or try to forge her own path?

'Forget it. I have more important things to worry about right now.'

This is unfamiliar territory. Staying alert is crucial, especially for a young woman alone at night. It's for a good cause. Like with the D&D session, she's getting a chance to dip her toes into his world. Eddie's bent over backward for her. This is an opportunity to do something for him for once.

Her eyes dart around the area as she strides down the sidewalk, taking in all the details. Most stores are closed or will be very soon. Those still open are pawnshops, bars, and places that sell alcohol and cigarettes. At least, according to the neon signs and light boxes in front of the businesses.

The space between the buildings gets wider the further she goes. A small hand grips the long purse strap and clutches it tightly against her body. It should be coming up soon. Passing a vacant lot surrounded by a chain-link fence, she stops when something catches her attention. A large plywood sign haphazardly attached to it. Written across it is 'The Hideout' in black and red spray paint with a big arrow pointing straight ahead.

'Bingo!'

After picking up the pace, a decent-sized lot comes into view. A brick building is smack dab in the middle with cars and motorcycles parked nearby. The nervousness from earlier intensifies as she gets closer, seeing the lit-up sign with 'The Hideout' in bold red letters. This is it. She didn't notice it when driving by the other times but the windows have thick metal bars on them.

"Okay." Chrissy tries to shake the anxiety out of her arms. This isn't the kind of place someone like her would go to. Not at all. Another fish out of water moment. Spotting people out front only solidifies that idea. They're leaning up against the wall, smoking. The group looks intimidating. Aggressive. Rough around the edges. Same way Eddie did for the longest time.