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saturday morning__

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saturday morning

HIS COMPANY apart wasnt all that bad; apart from the frequent sexual comments or the annoying, blood curdling banter, richie tozier wasnt that bad.
after the ' ass ' incident in the grocery store down the road, richie and i walked outside into the sidewalk and sat down at one of the dainty metal tables next to a thrift store. there was a small brown, round pot in the middle of the surface filled with pink and yellow flowers. the chairs that we were sitting on were also made of metal; a white metal. there was a red and white striped cushion on both of them, making them just a bit more comfortable.

apart from the awkward silences, richie and i actually shared a decent conversation over the dulling topic of school. eventually, we ended up sharing a riveting chat about the party i had thrown the previous night.

richie's head was thrown backwards, obnoxiously loud laughs falling from his red lips, curls bouncing with every shake of his body.

"i did not !"

"oh you totally did, marla. you walked right up to her, grabbed the bottle, chugged it and then threw it across the room !" richie's face fell forward. he propped his arms up on their elbows and rested his face in between his palms, then readjusted his glasses.

"ugh," i grimaced, covering my face with my hands, "i cannot believe i did that, thats so embarrassing."

"not as embarrassing as me having to drag, wait, basically carry you up to your room. i could totally see your boobs seeing as though i am at least a head taller than you," richie smirked, picking up a crumb from the croissant he had recently demolished.

its true, i am nothing next to richie. he probably had the biggest growth spurt out of everyone in the school. i, on the other hand, have not grown an inch since i was 15 years old.

"hey ! watch that mouth richie, my growth spurt is coming and for your information, i have great boobs," i shrugged and leaned back in the metal chair, squinting due to the sun being in my eyes.

" hey, im not complaining princess," richie replied smugly with an annoying smirk on his annoying face.

his eyes wondered down to my pale neck and stopped by my exposed collar bones.

"jesus, richie. eyes to yourself," i groaned and rolled my green eyes.

"no, no im not eye-fucking you marla. im just looking at the necklace you have on. youre always wearing it, why ?" richie questioned, leaning even more forward to get a better look at it, frowning.

"oh, uhm," i stuttered, looking down at the thin silver chain hanging loosely around my neck and over my collar bones, a small, small heart attached to it.

"my mom gave it to me, before she moved," i blinked, small smile on my face.

"okay," he said, sighing and slouching backwards in his chair.
the silence that came next was almost daunting.
it was tremendously awkward, but at the exact same time, it was not.

richie put his arms behind his lolling head and slowly closed his eyes; letting them sink into the depths of his skill whilst relaxing. it was then that i  took the time to study him, the derry boy sitting opposite me.
and god, he had the most palest, porcelain skin i think i had ever seen. it seemed soft, way too soft and silky for any live human being, it was almost as though if i placed my hand on his flesh, it would sink right in. his cheeks were scattered with hundreds of tiny freckles; dancing underneath the triangular shadows casted by his long eyelashes. his eyes were closed at that moment, but i already new that his eyes were brown. no, scratch that. they're dark hills of chocolate and honey, melting inwards towards a pool of black. i want to jump in them, smother myself the caramel mess that are his eyes. the way his curls act is almost unnaturally perfect in the chaos of humanity.

i groaned loudly. so loud that the  the nearly deaf sonia kaspbrack could hear, and loud enough for richie to open his eyes and look at me as though i was mad.

i shoved my fringe out of my face im frustration, throwing my head backwards and releasing another loud groan.

"what the fuck is wrong with you ?" richie said calmly, leaning forward and looking at me with a face filled with bewilderment and confusion.

"i absolutely fucking hate this chair. this fucking metal, infuriating chair is going to give me spinal damage," i groaned once more, arching my back forward.

i opened my eyes to see richie with the biggest smirk on his face.

"does mr levi make you moan like that ?"

i scowled at him and stood up abruptly, making my chair screech across the concrete floor.

"what the fuck is wrong with you richie ?" i sneered, placing my hands on my hips.

" well, i assume youre fucking mr levi for extra credit. youre way too good at hamlet and plus, you never pay attention in his class anyways !" richie said loudly, a frown making his way across his face.

"jesus, well maybe i just know my shit richie," i mumbled, my face flushing red.
i bit the inside of my cheek as i straightened out my shirt. i will not cry. i will not fucking cry in front richie fucking tozier. him bringing up hamlet and my necklace reminded me way too much of my mother. i cant do this right now; i cant be here.

"im not just some stupid slut that sleeps with teachers for extra credit richie, for fucks sake," i looked him in the eye as i spoke and as my bottom lip quivered.
"oh so youre gonna cry marla ? jesus, cant you take a fucking joke ?" richie let the words fall from his lips with ease.

" leave me alone, richie,"

i was humiliated, embaressed with myself. i cannot believe i nearly cried in front of him, in front of richie. if only he knew; if only he knew that his stupid side comments about my mother and my stupid fucking wealth and his insulting perverted comments, if only he knew it hurt people.
if only he knew it hurt me.

hell, maybe i should just tell him that my mother isnt in another country, but is actually dead, obliterated into thousands of pieces, scattered into the universe and that the little jokes he makes about her are hurtful.

but i wont.
instead, i will walk away.

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