golden boy : stozier

twenty

"oh shit, does he have to talk to wheatley again?" mike asked, and stanley wanted to know all the things richie had ever gone to the principal for. he wanted to know everything that had ever made richie upset. stanley coughed, looking back at the table.

stop it.

"no, i think they gave up on that. he's just held back, maybe they'll give him detention, i dunno," beverly finally had a pencil in her hand, and she looked at stanley. he realized how close she was sitting. he knew she was only doing it to make bill jealous, but it still unnerved stanley. "so, i'll just do a problem, and i'll let you know when i get stuck," she turned to her logarithms, and stanley glanced up at bill with a nervous look on his face. bill caught his eye contact with just as much unease.

"okay," stanley replied, and he looked over the paper. beverly pushed her hair behind her ear as she wrote, numbers and letters blurring together to make that evil mistress, preparatory calculus.

"no, okay, here, how do i get the log out of there? i know that's what i have to do, i just don't get how," she pointed, and stanley nodded, looking for a pencil of his own. she tilted hers, offering it to him. he took it cautiously as she batted her eyelashes.

"um, it's the multiplication rule, so because it's like that here, it can be like this, and it cancels out," he scribbled, his writing much smaller and messier than hers. he could hear her breathing in his ear from how close she had leaned in, and it made his neck itch. he scratched it awkwardly, wondering if she really needed the help at all.

"oh!" when she finally looked at the paper, she gasped, "that makes sense. okay, thank you. i'll let you know when i need anything else," her voice was suddenly genuine, and he realized she really did just need help with pre-calc, bill simply happened to be sitting across from her. he gulped.

he reopened his laptop, repeatedly scrolling up and down to look to his notes. he opened mail, intending to send his rough draft for edits to a teacher. he couldn't stop thinking about where richie must be, sitting in a classroom with a teacher bored out of his mind.

it wasn't that richie wasn't smart, because when stanley sat with him while doing homework, it seemed easy enough for him. it was just that he didn't ever do it, leaving it until it was too far past the due date to get any credit, or scribbling some bullshit as a way to get back at the education system. it pissed stanley off because richie could do so well if he just tried, but he knew better than to tell richie that.

besides, the behavioural problems on top of the homework just made it harder.

stanley would sit with richie for the rest of time if it meant he'd see himself as more than a fuck-up who didn't do his homework because it wouldn't matter anyway.

but he couldn't. stanley had been pulling back, he'd known that. since being on that porch, looking at richie, as beautiful as could be, stanley knew he couldn't keep staring into his eyes for any longer. he was supposed to be focused on school, and he could not deal with liking his best friend.

his beautiful, smart, charming, interesting, hilarious best friend. the only best friend he'd ever really had, and the only one he ever really wanted.

okay, see, shit like that. knock it off.

he went back to adjusting his chapter titles in his essay, scratching at his head. he'd been out too often, with richie or his friends, and his parents were noticing. they didn't know it was with richie, but if he had any more outings to the beach with 'ben and his friends' or 'studying sleepovers' with eddie, his parents were already suspicious enough. they'd figure it out.

so he'd decided they were to be with at school only, at least for a little while, as he made sure his parents could tell he was on top of it. he lived in their house, after all, he owed them something.

and his friends hadn't seemed to argue, not pushing twice when stanley said no to hanging out. well, with one exception. always an exception for richie.

"hi bill," suddenly eddie was at the edge of the table, and stanley looked at him in surprise. he didn't greet anyone else at the table, and bill looked up to him with a smile on his face.

"eddie! i invited ed-duh-die to study with us, that's ok-kuh-kay, right?" bill asked, stanley and mike nodding, beverly staying hunched over her math.

eddie walked around bill, sitting down at the spot in between bill and stanley. all the chairs at the table were now taken, and stanley wondered where richie would sit. he shook the thought.

"hi, stanley. have you done your english essay yet?" eddie asked, and stanley had sorta forgotten how nasally his voice was. eddie seemed to have really gone through an underwhelming puberty, only five foot four, and his voice still high pitched as ever.

"no, isn't that not due for another month?" stanley said, trying his best to ignore the worry building in his muscles. they were tensing, maybe he had gotten distracted and off track with richie, and mike and bill and beve—

"yeah, you've got a bit. but i've got a headstart, i'm doing mine on antigone, and i know you want to do your oral exam on that, so do you think you could proof read my rough draft?" eddie spoke like the words were typed out on a calculator, incredibly fast and mechanical. stanley felt the worry wash away, leaving only minor paranoia that his parents would be on him for not being ahead like eddie.

"um, sure, email it to me and i'll leave some notes. i'm just doing my e-e." stanley watched as eddie brought out a wipe, cleaning the surface where his laptop would be before putting hand sanitizer on and pulling out his laptop.

exhausting, stanley thought. it must be so exhausting being eddie kaspbrak.

"oh, you're ahead of me on that, nice. i've still only got my proposal and my notes," eddie laughed a little. he actually laughed. stanley smiled.

"you read my extended essay, i'll read your english, yeah?" stanley said, and eddie nodded happily. he really reminded stanley of a child, an extremely anal, organized child, but just a kid. stanley was sorta jealous.

stanley went back to his nit-picking of his own essay. he clicked back to the email he'd meant to send, reading what he'd typed.

hello,

i was wondering if you could help me with my extended essay by giving it a read and just leaving any notes that occur to you? my essay is i hate that he's so perfect i'm focusing in school and i can't like him. i can't like a boy that pretty

stanley flushed red, deleting maniacally and hoping that neither beverly or eddie had read that. he retyped it, making sure he wrote what he meant to say, and sent it off.

he clicked back to his to do list, sighing.