Training Wheels

1

Richie.
July 7, 1988.

Richie loved summer, but what he didn't love was the scorching heat and stifling humidity that came with it.

The women sat out on their porches, fanning themselves with pamphlets, imitating southern belles while they gossiped and sipped their morning coffee all day long.

It reminded Richie of a film he once saw. 'To Kill a Mockingbird', he thought it was called. Though they weren't in the south, the people of Derry were still racist, uneducated, and insipid.

Maine really wasn't that hot, but it was nestled in that uncomfortable 70 degrees grey area, and it always felt muggy to Richie during the summer. Maybe it was just him, but he despised it. He loathed it with a passion.

The way sweat would pool in sticky puddles under his shirt and run down his back irritated him like nothing else.

Of course, he'd ride his bike with his friends occasionally, but he'd spend most of his time in the local arcade, where there was air conditioning.

Then again, he'd do nearly anything to get away from his parents.

Aside from the fact that his parents were fine with him going out and doing whatever the hell he wanted and didn't exactly take good care of him, there was nothing wrong with them.

They were pretty understanding, really. Or at least, they tried to be.

That's what Richie always told himself.

At the current moment, the dark haired boy was pedaling towards the Barrens, where his friends had agreed to meet him to go swimming.

He grumbled as he sweat profusely as his glasses repeated to continuously slip down his nose.

Finally, Richie braked and got off his bike, kicking it to the side and then cursing loudly when he stubbed his toe on it.

"Piece of shit." He muttered, eyeing the beaten up bike almost warily.

Richie made his way to the edge of the cliff, where Stan, Bill, Bev, Ben, and Eddie were standing.

The rest of them had already stripped down to their underwear, which left Richie.

"Why the fuck are you all so early?" Richie blurted, honestly surprised that the others were able to get down here so quickly.

Especially Eddie. Poor kid's been cooped up most of the summer in that godforsaken house of his, probably with his poor excuse of a mother breathing down his neck, forcing useless pills down his throat.

Richie shook his head to himself as he yanked his shirt off and threw it to the side, along with his shorts and socks and shoes.

"Did anyone happen to bring an extra towel?" Ben asked as he peeked over the edge of the cliff, obviously stalling. Not wanting to jump, but trying to be brave in front of Bev.

Everyone knew Ben was practically in love with the sole girl in their group of friends, everyone that is, except for the female in question.

Beverly Marsh was oblivious.

Bill sighed. "C-c'mon, Ben, w-we a-all know y-you're just sc-scar-scared." He teased lightly, not wanting to embarrass the heavier boy, but at the same time looking somewhat uneasy and agitated.