Mixtape

5

As it turns out, Richie has quite a number of classes with little Eddie Kaspbrak.
He never took notice of the kid, mainly because Richie has a tendency to daydream and stare longingly out windows during lectures, so he never quite takes notice of his classmates unless one were to talk to him.
This Monday, however, when the autumn sun is cascading in through the windows and creating slotted designs on the desks, Richie takes notice of the short boy standing up two rows over from Richie's assigned seat.
Eddie is wiping his desk down with a disinfectant wipe, carefully holding his bag up so that it doesn't touch the surface, and Richie wonders what was spilled there before Eddie arrived.
He straightens his posture, adjusts the glasses on his nose, and opens his mouth to call out to the asthmatic. Before the words can leave his mouth, he hears a group of girls taunting the boy.
"Hey, Kaspbrak. Got any new birth control pills?"
As if hearing their cue, a bottle of pills rattles in Eddie's fannypack while he turns to face the teasing group. His face falls, his eyes sullen, but it doesn't last long. He takes a deep breath in, furrows his brows, and quickly defends himself.
"Yeah, I'm saving them for your mom," he growls.
Richie smirks, turning his head back to the window but still listening in for another sign of the boy's voice.
"Yeesh, you on your period, too? Got any tampons to spare him, Greta?"
"I'm sure he has the whole pharmacy in his second fanny pack, don't you?"
Richie waits for Eddie's quick witted response, but instead, silence falls over his ears. Curiously, he looks over to see what's come over Eddie, only to be met with a despondent face. Richie's chest tightens, and he feels the need to spit the word 'whore' out of his mouth just to put Greta in her place, but then he remembers Beverly.
Her voice is as clear as a crystal, chiming through his mind in her stern and bossy tone. "Don't call girls bitches, or sluts, or whores. They are not worth any less because of who they sleep with, Richie Tozier!"
With one last glance at Eddie, who is now slumping into his seat and trying to appear as small as possible, Richie gives up and focuses his attention towards the lecture that's beginning on the board.
The guilt pools through his body like a gallon of grease soaking through paper bags. The entire class period, he tries so hard to focus on taking notes, but his eyes stray. And they keep straying. And they stray to the same spot, same person, every time. Richie will catch himself staring, look away, and then feel a magnetic pull back towards Eddie's tiny figure. How come he didn't talk back to those girls? Why did he just accept defeat? Richie has never been one to give up so easily, comebacks and insults live in this throat and scratch to get out.
When the bell rings, Richie is the first one out of his seat. He doesn't bolt towards the door like the rest of his classmates, instead, he climbs over the two rows of desks that it takes to reach Eddie Kaspbrak.
Eddie, who is carefully packing everything into his backpack, stops his actions when he sees two pairs of dirty converse standing in front of him.
He looks up, his eyes wide and full of wonder and amazement. There's forests in his eyes, Richie can see each individual leaf and log and branch and fauna.
"Oh, sorry, am I in your way?" Eddie stands up quickly, stepping aside to offer the seat to Richie.
"Got any tampons?" Richie asks, narrowing his magnified eyes.
Eddie flinches away, avoiding Richie's eyes. Without another word, he pushes past Richie and starts to leave the classroom.
"No, really, Eds! I'm sure you've got some vagasil in the cute little purse of yours," Richie follows the kid, entering the hall and walking close so that he doesn't lose the short boy within the crowd.
"Knock it off, trashmouth," Eddie bites, and then shakes his head and keeps walking.
"That's not what your mom was saying last night," Richie presses on, trying desperately to get Eddie to snap. "Or were we not loud enough? I'll come over again tonight to make sure you really hear us this time."
Eddie is silent, ducking his head down and turning down the hall. Richie reaches out and grabs the backpack strap, pulling Eddie in before the boy can escape. Eddie's eyes widen, and when he looks from Richie's tight grip up to his face, Eddie looks more terrified than what Richie would ever like to see.
"Why don't you defend yourself?" Richie asks, his voice much more softer now. "You shouldn't let people talk to you like that."
The hotheaded boy frowns, scrunching his face up and saying "What, and get my ass beat? Great idea, genius."
"Who the fuck is beating your ass?" Richie is in disbelief that anybody would ever see a face like Eddie's and still feel the compulsion to hurt such an innocent being.
"Who do you think?" Eddie tries to wiggle free from Richie's grip, but Rich only tightens his fingers around the strap and pulls Eddie closer. "Henry Bowers. Always Henry Bowers."
Richie's head closes in on itself at the mention of the old name, but he doesn't let it show on his face.
"Fuck Bowers," Richie huffs. Eddie's eyes widen in fear, and as he slaps his petite hands over Richie's loud mouth, he looks around to see if anybody heard Richie's proclamation. The taller boy tilts his head up, freeing his mouth of Eddie's silencer, and says much more loudly "Fuck Bowers!"
"What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you trying to get yourself killed?!" Eddie takes cheap shots at Richie's torso, but Richie doesn't flinch at all under the tiny fists.
"Why do the girls tease you?" He asks instead. "Gretta and the other bitc- ...girls."
Eddie's cheeks flush a pink color that Richie could learn to love it he sees it enough. The boy shakes his head quickly, and then quietly mumbles "They call me... girly boy. It's stupid."
"Are you?" Richie asks. His hand slides from Eddie's backpack down to his wrist, where he softly takes Eddie's petite hand and uncurls each finger. Clean, cut nails, all polished so carefully, except for one. His pinky finger is painted the exact shade of blue that Richie bought for Beverley.
Eddie pulls his hand back, and then lets out a frustrated breath when the bell rings and the halls clear out around them. "Great. Now I'm late."
"So skip," Richie shrugs.
Eddie's eyes nearly pop out of his head. "S-Skip? Are you insane? Do you know what my mother would do if she found out I wasn't where I was supposed to be?! She would put out a search warrant for me!"
Something about the words search warrant and the correlation that they have with missing posters makes Richie's palms itch with fear. He shakes the thoughts aside, and doesn't reach out to grab Eddie when he starts walking away.
"Fuck your mom," Richie says, leaning against the locker next to him. His eyes drop down to Eddie's shorts, and then the knees that buckle when Eddie notices he's being examined. Richie smirks, raising his eyes agonizingly slow, and then says in his favorite sarcastic tone, "Oh wait, I already am."
Eddie lets out an exasperated huff, shaking his head and quickly rushing down the hallway. Richie is about to turn away and start heading to his next class, when he sees Eddie's head lift over his shoulder, and then the words flow out and carry down the hall to reach Richie. "You're incorrigible, Richard Tozier."
His full name sounds foreign to him, but coming from Eddie Kaspbrak's mouth, he smiles.
"I don't know the meaning of the word," Richie jokingly calls out after him.
Eddie looks back and smiles, saying "I'm sure you don't."
Richie smiles, watching Eddie until the boy disappears down another hall, and then allowing himself to lean back on the locker and let out a happy sigh.
He barely knows Eddie Kaspbrak, and yet the kid can somehow make him smile more in one day than Richie has in the past five years.