golden boy : stozier

fourteen

"are you sure you want to go? we can still leave," richie said, standing beside stanley kneeling on the concrete tying his shoe. ahead of them, bill had already pulled beverly inside and mike was waiting outside of the front door for them.

"i want to go, richie. are you sure you want to go?" stanley laughed, standing back up and beginning to walk toward mike. richie fell behind a second, then stumbling to catch up with stanley.

"of course i do, staniel," richie pushed his glasses up his face and bowed to mike as he went through the door, stanley and mike following.

pretty quickly stanley felt overstimulated, the noise hurting his head. he settled on grabbing a can of coke and finding the back door, joining what he could only assume were people smoking weed and swimming.

the cool air felt better out here on his skin than the muggy, crowded air inside. he breathed slowly, opening his can. he looked around finally, though he hardly recognized anyone. they were faces he knew, but he didn't know a single name.

a head peeked out the back door, and mike's friendly face smiled at stanley. he seemed to hesitate for a moment, but he came outside, coming to stand next to stanley.

"hey, how's it going for you so far?" mike asked, shuffling past a couple people to stand comfortably. stanley shrugged, taking a sip to keep him from having to talk. he looked over to mike's hand, where he held a can of seltzer.

"i didn't know you drank, mike," stanley piped up, mike looking haphazardly from stanley to his can. he pursed his lips, saying, do i look like a real drunk with this can here?

"i'm... selective about when i get drunk. and you know what? i've selected tonight." mike laughed, and it was so hearty that stanley couldn't help but have a small laugh too.

"well, good luck," stanley said, looking out at all of the other people around them. "does richie drink?" he asked, nervously tapping his fingers on the side of the can.

mike shook his head emphatically, frowning. stanley wondered if maybe he'd said something wrong. "no, alcoholism runs in his family, i think. him and bill do... other stuff, sometimes, but richie doesn't drink." mike said, and stanley wondered how he hadn't already known that.

learning anything about richie from his friends, however, was a gamble. stanley figured out pretty early on that richie must have had a problem with lying, maybe to make the stories feel funnier, or maybe just for his own amusement. everything bill would tell him about richie, he'd take back to richie, and richie would deny.

he had briefly wondered how much richie had lied to him about, but if he focused on it for too long he started to go mad. how was he supposed to understand richie if he didn't know what was real?

"oh." is the answer stanley went with that night. "okay."

"so you don't either?" mike gestured to the can of coca-cola in stanley's hand, and he nodded.

"yeah. i mean, i never have before. but i don't imagine i'd like being, you know. out of control of my... of what i do." stanley inspected the coca-cola can in his hand. he turned his wrist, trying to crack it as he sat in the silence between him and mike.

"i understand that. hey, um, can i ask you a personal question?" mike suddenly looked up at him, taking a drink while stanley looked up in confusion.

stanley gulped, then nodded, "shoot," he said, feeling like he was once again taking on a personality that wasn't his.

"do you like richie?"

stanley blinked a couple times, "of course i do. he's my best friend." stanley furrowed his eyebrows. mike laughed silently, as if to say i get that.