Mixtape

10

10

Richie is anxious to follow Bill to the lunch table, mainly because he's scared of having to see Beverly after ignoring the girl for so long. He loves her, he does, and he craves to feel her presence again, but he just cannot deal with her indifferent attitude when it comes to other's problems.
On top of that, there's a mixtape in his back pocket that burns a hole through his leg.
Bill talks easily about the bar mitzvah that he attended for Stanley, and how he watched Stan become a man. Usually, Richie would make some snarky comment about how they probably sliced the tip of Stan's dick off, but his nerves seem to get the best of him.
You're okay, Richie Tozier he tells himself. Everything is okay.
And Richie quickly finds out, yeah, it is okay. The lunch table that Richie was so worked up about only has one other occupant sitting at it when Bill sets his books down and tells Richie he'll be back in a second. Realizing he was nervous about nothing, Richie takes a seat next to Stan and turns to make conversation.
"Where's Bev?" Richie asks.
Between bites of his unidentifiable home lunch, Stan responds "She has third lunch."
"And Mike?"
"He's homeschooled."
"And Ben?" Richie already knows the answer to this, but he asks anyway.
"Studies in the library instead."
The words finally leave his mouth, and it's obvious that he's trying to sound as casual as possible as he says "And Eddie?"
"Right here," the small boy announces his arrival, plopping a lunch box down on the table, causing Richie to jump at its clatter. "Sorry. Bowers was giving me shit, so I had to walk the long way here."
Richie opens his mouth to reply, but Stan interrupts him and asks Eddie something completely irrelevant. Richie looks over the contents of Eddie's lunchbox, a completely balanced meal for a boy of his height and weight. The off putting part of it, however, is the ziploc baggie of brightly colored pills that takes up a third of the lunch box.
At first, Richie assumed they're gummy snacks. But as Bill returns and joins their conversation, Richie watches the way that Eddie swallows one tablet at a time, a swish of his drink to make the ride down more smooth.
"Why do you have so many pills?" Richie asks the second that there's a break in conversation. Stan and Bill seem caught up in a heated discussion about birds, so Richie takes this time to steal Eddie away.
"They're vitamins," Eddie explains. "Most of them. Some of them help me take dumps more easily, but some of them make sure that the dump isn't too intense."
What a charming mouth he's got.
"You know, I've never touched a vitamin before in my life and I'm pretty healthy," Richie says pointedly.
"Perhaps," Eddie shrugs, swallowing his next pill. "But you're at high risk for lung cancer with the way that you suck cigarettes down."
"Maybe all those pills stunted your growth, Eds," Richie ruffles Eddie's hair, getting lost in the soft feathers and wanting nothing more than to let his fingers tangle in the webs. That would be unfair, however, because he would knock Eddie's halo askew if that were to occur.
"Don't call me that," Eddie responds habitually. "Where's your lunch?"
"Don't have any lunch money," Richie shrugs, trying very hard to think about anything else other than the fact that his parents up and left for the week with no note or money to survive. Richie will make do with what's in the house, but carefully, so that he does not dip into some of his mom's favorite coconut Girl Scout cookies.
"No wonder you're so skinny, here," Eddie tears his peanut butter jelly sandwich down the middle, handing the larger portion over to Richie.
"I can't," Richie shakes his head.
"Why not?" Eddie blinks at him, waiting for a good answer.
Richie, who doesn't have one, takes the sandwich and gives Eddie a guilty smile. "Thanks, Eds."
Eddie looks like he wants to object, but instead shakes his head and bites down on his sandwich. Richie watches the way that strawberry jelly tucks itself away in the corner of Eddie's mouth, and he thinks he would be overstepping all boundaries if he were to reach out and wipe it away.
A thought crosses his mind that instantly diminishes his good feelings, one that connects the dots between Beverly and Eddie. Is he so pathetic that he can't even feed himself? Other people have to do it for him?
"It's nice to see you here," Eddie then looks at him, catching Richie staring. "Ben says you usually hide in the library."
"Not hiding," Richie looks away. "Just... um. Listening."
"To music?" Eddie asks. When he notices that Richie isn't eating, he nudges the taller boy's lanky arm and then pushes a cup of apple slices in his direction.
Richie smiles, "Am I that predictable?"
"There's nothing wrong with liking things," Eddie says, "It's... It's nice that you have something to be passionate about. I think people with hobbies are cute."
"You think I'm cute?" Richie looks at Eddie out of the corner of his eye, admiring the blush that creeps up beneath the boy's freckles.
"Mike really likes history," Eddie ignores the question, "And Ben is obsessed with NKOTB."
"Oh, trash," Richie shakes his head. "Trash music."
"I don't know, it's nice." Eddie shrugs. He takes a long drink from his water bottle, and then makes a very big step out of his comfort zone by offering the bottle to Richie. Thankfully, Richie declines. Eddie feels as if he's just dodged a bullet; do you know how many illnesses he could contract just by sharing a water bottle? "Just 'cause you don't like the music doesn't mean it's trash. If he likes it, then that's enough, you know? Music is music. It helps people, and that should be enough."
Richie, who stares at him in shock, is rendered speechless. Did he just get severely burned by Eddie Kaspbrak?
"You know, music doesn't have to live up to your standards, Rich," Stan interjects.
Richie looks over, unaware that the other two were listening in on their conversation. Eddie blushes, ducking his head down and silently eating his lunch.
"Boybands are dorky," Richie shakes his head.
"All your favorite bands are boy bands," Stan says. "Bands consisting of men are all boy bands."
"But-" Richie says, then gives up. He quietly starts eating the food that Eddie has graciously shared with him, deciding he can't open his loud mouth if he stuffs it.
You fucking idiot. They all hate you. Your first day sitting at their table and you've blown it by being a pretentious, elitist asshole.
Gentle, hazy, showersteam soft fingertips plant on Richie's elbow like flower seeds, and when Richie looks over, Eddie is still going about his lunch with no attention directed towards Richie at all. Richie smiles, his nerves relaxing with the touch of Eddie's rose bud hand. It fills him with firecrackers of happiness to think that Eddie is trying to comfort him, his heart soaring with a sense of trust that he's never felt with Beverly.
"Um, Eds," Richie blurts out, feeling more confident with the proximity between them.
"Eddie," the small boy corrects him, but then stares up at Richie through his spiderweb eyelashes. "Go on."
"At... At Bev's party..." Richie begins to lose the courage he had, floundering with anxiousness. Eddie lets his fingertips ghost up Richie's arm, then slide back down to his pointy elbow. He repeats the action, and when Richie fully realizes what's happening, an entirely new sense of bravery washes over him. So, with Eddie gently rubbing Richie's arm, Rich says "When you had that nightmare, did the music help?"
Eddie seems a little flustered at the mention of his bad dream, but still nods. "Yeah. I slept through the whole night."
"I, um," Richie stumbles over his words, reaching into his back pocket and curling his fingers around the cold case of the tape. "I've been thinking about that night. I mean, the music, not you. No, I do think about you, but I don't think think about you-"
"Richie," Eddie interrupts his nervous rambling. Richie is grateful, otherwise he would have kept fumbling around cluelessly and making a fool of himself.
So, with a glance over at Bill and Stan to make sure they're not listening, Richie pulls the mixtape out of his pocket and presents it to Eddie awkwardly.
"I made a list of songs that, uh, might help you sleep," Richie says. Richie wrote the track listing inside the case with precision, as well as the title that matches the one on the paper he first started formulating these songs on.
TO EDDIE KASPBRAK; FOR WHEN YOUR NIGHTMARES ARE TOO LOUD TO SLEEP, TURN THE MUSIC UP EVEN LOUDER.
Eddie breaks into a bashful smile, accepting it and letting his eyes scan over the list of songs. He doesn't recognize any of them, but then again, Eddie can't tell you the name of songs even if his life depended on it. He knows how they sound, not their names or who they're by.
"Thank you, Richie," Eddie smiles up at him, his cheeks swelling the bigger that he smiles. "This really means a lot. You're... you're so thoughtful."
Richie shrugs, trying to pass it off as nonchalantly as he possibly can. In reality, he feels as if he's baring a naked part of his soul to a boy he barely knows. "Just want something for you to listen to at night while I'm banging your mom in the next room over."
Eddie grins, not because of the joke, but because of the way that Richie's cheeks bloom like scarlet flowers underneath his thick glasses frames. He reaches out and squeezes Richie's hand, then carefully tucks the tape away into his fanny pack.
He glances at Richie's hand again, and just for safe measure, squeezes a drop of hand sanitizer into his palm to clean away any bacteria that might have been transferred from Tozier's touch.
The rest of the lunch, Richie argues with Stanley about whether or not Family Fued is a funny show. Eddie finds himself explaining the algebra homework to Bill, and for a moment while Stanley is ranting, Richie is overcome with the same feeling he felt the night the taller two stayed at his house.
He belongs. He feels as if he's finally found a home to call his own.
When the bell rings, Bill jumps up and stutters about how he has to get to history or Mr. Irwin will kill him. Stan departs quickly as well, leaving Richie lingering by the table as Eddie packs his millions of things into his lunch box.
"See you around, Eddie spaghetti," Richie says his farewell, only to earn a scared look from the smaller boy.
"Richie?" He asks, and without hesitation, Richie is there, by his side, asking what's wrong. "Could you... Could you walk me to class?"
Richie blinks at him.
"It's just, uh, Henry Bowers has been giving me a hard time all day, and, um, you're... tall," Eddie looks down at his shoes, playing with the straps on his bag as a distraction.
"Yeah," Richie says, moving closer to Eddie. "Of course. Come on, where you going?"
"Third floor," Eddie sighs in relief, pressing himself in close to Richie's side as they leave the cafeteria together. Richie's next class is on the opposite end of the school, but he doesn't care. He thinks he'd cross the ends of the earth if Eddie were to ask him with those scared puppy eyes.
While walking through the halls, Richie can hear people snickering around the two of them. Eddie keeps his head down, but it's clear that he can hear it too.
"Look at the girly boy! His shorts!"
Richie looks at Eddie's shorts, maybe a bit revealing, but still just standard shorts. Why are people talking about him? Is this how they always treat Eddie? Is... Is Eddie getting bullied everyday?
"Have his balls even dropped yet?"
"Haven't you heard? He doesn't have any."
Richie's muscles tense with anger upon hearing these whispers, and he wants to grab every single person snickering at their lockers and punch them until their teeth are loose inside of their gums. Instead, he wraps an arm around Eddie's shoulders and protectively pulls the boy in closer. Eddie doesn't object, in fact, his anxious hands work their way into Richie's shirt and hold on for dear life.
They nearly get to Eddie's class successfully when a tall figure bumps into them. Eddie bounces back, colliding with Richie's chest, and Richie's arms wrap around his shoulders to pull Eddie in close.
"Is this your boyfriend, Kassprick?" A stocky, built man sneers, poking at Eddie's chest. Richie recognizes him, but the mutual friend they have in common is one that doesn't cross Richie's mind at all anymore. "Did little queer finally get himself a faggot boyfriend?"
Richie's hands slide down to protect Eddie's chest, his blood boiling and spewing up his throat in the form of insults.
"Hey, Belch, fuck off," Richie spits, trying to guide Eddie around the bully to get him to his class.
"What, too pussy to speak, girly boy?" Belch laughs, "That's all you are, Kassprick; a pussy."
"You are what you eat," Richie responds, earning a stifled laugh from Eddie. That one simple sound gives him all the courage that he needs. "Explains why you're such a fucking dick."
It seems that Belch is too unintelligent to come back with a response, growing so frustrated that he storms off down the hall with a grumble. "I'll get you, Tozier. You're fucking dead. You and your prissy boyfriend too."
Richie rolls his eyes and continues walking, while Eddie seems stricken with fear.
"N-Now they're going to be after you," Eddie looks up at Richie, leaning back into his torso and sliding his fingers up Richie's hands still planted on Eddie's chest.
"Whatever," Richie shrugs. "Who cares? I can handle a few punches. What's important is that you're okay."
Eddie grins, watching Richie's indifferent face, and he thinks this boy is so brave. Eddie has been holding out for a hero for as long as he can remember, and now here he is, 5'10 with glasses bigger than Jupiter. His own personal savior, Richie Tozier.
Eddie stops in the doorway of his classroom, quickly looking around to see if anybody is watching, but most of the students have scurried to class before the last warning bell.
Quickly, Eddie turns and pulls Richie down by the front of his shirt and stands up on his tiptoes, pressing his lips to the curve of Richie's protrudent cheekbone.
"Thank you, Richie Tozier," Eddie drops back down to his feet, moving backwards. "For the tape."
"Of course," Richie responds, his eyes wide and whole face flushing. "Yeah, of course. Any time, Eds."
"Eddie," the small boy corrects him, grinning so excitedly before finally dipping into the classroom.
As the bell rings, the teacher comes and shuts the door that Richie is frozen in front of. He doesn't know what snaps him out of his trance, but when he finally does, his trembling fingers touch the spot that Eddie had kissed.
Heavenly choruses and angelic choirs rise up around Richie, filling the hallway with harmonies that would make even the man in the sky jealous. Richie smiles, turning on his heel and starting down the now empty hallway, his organs melting within his body as he replays the moment over and over again.
It isn't until halfway through the class period that Richie finally realizes that neither of them denied being the other's boyfriend.