𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 - 𝐫.𝐭𝐨𝐳𝐢𝐞𝐫.

picnic blankets and spiked punch

PICNIC BLANKETS AND SPIKED PUNCH

October 1989

Richie Tozier pushed his foot on the accelerator of his dad's old beat up car harshly, murmuring to himself as he checked off items in his head. He raced through the streets, hoping that the deputy wouldn't notice a 16-year-old speeding in one of the worst cars in Derry.

The necktie seemed to be too tight, the suit too stuffy, but he knew it was just nerves. His usual thick glasses had been dubbed out for scratchy contacts in an attempt to look more put together.

The tires squeaked as he swung into the driveway of the house, shutting the engine off quickly. He stepped out, trudging on the concrete with his sneakers. The doorbell rang shrilly. Footsteps echoed hurriedly through the house, the door swung open to reveal Marie.

"Hey Marie. Is she ready?"

The older woman nodded, cradling her small baby bump.

"Almost done!" Dawn's light voice floated down the staircase a second before she appeared.

Her small heels clicked on the floorboards, the dress casting a purple glow through the light of a window. Brunette curls fell out of her elegant updo. She looked magnificent. Perfect, even.

"Woah," Richie breathed out, taken aback.

Dawn grinned, kissing her mother on the cheek, "Je t'aime, ne reste pas debout pour m'attendre."

Marie simply nodded again, tears brimming in her eyes.

"How do you manage to look more beautiful every day?" Richie guided to the car, opening her door.

"You don't look too bad yourself, where are your glasses?"

He sat down in the driver's seat, pulling down the glove compartment to show the frames usually decorating his face, "Contacts."

"Right."

"I thought I would look better without them on, but I can't really tell."

"I think you always look dashing, Tozier," She joked, placing her hand on his shoulder.

He reached further into the compartment, pulling out a rectangular metal box, "How bout a little buzz before we enter the gates of hell?"

A lighter made its way into his hand, flame touching the end of the blunt.

"Sounds perfect."

.....

The gym looked less disgusting on that particular day, adorned with fake flowers, lights, balloons, streamers, and a banner.

Dawn slipped her arm into Richie's, letting him lead her to a table where the remaining Loser's Club was situated.

"Hey, guys."

They sat wide-eyed, opened mouth, staring in awe at one of their best friends. Richie snapped his fingers, bringing them back in from the trance.

"How did you convince your mom to let you come?" He asked Eddie.

"Ever since I ran away to Neibolt she's let go of the reins. If I knew that was all it took I would've run away years ago."

Dawn giggled, pulling up a chair, "How long do you think it's gonna be before Mrs. Kershaw realizes we spiked the punch?"

"Wait, we spiked the punch," Stan pointed out, pulling a small bottle halfway out of his pocket.

"Woah," Richie laughed, "Some kids are about to get really sloppy."