𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 / 𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞✔️

three // he wants to be a good friend

"Eddie. we have to wake up, Eddie?" Richie shook him lightly, careful to place his fingers in a manner that didn't hurt his sore spots or bruises. A whimper escapes eddies lips. It was soft, though, almost unheard. He obviously wasn't looking forward to What today would bring.
"Eddie. I'm serious, we're gonna be late. Mrs. White hates it when kids are tardy." Eddie eventually agreed, knowing that Richie was right. He wasn't hoping to start the day off with mrs. white's classic lecture on why it's important to be on time that he's sure everyone has heard at least twice.
Richie got out of bed first, already awake. he disappeared into his closet and came out in a white t-shirt, a Hawaiian button up, but of course not buttoned, and a pair of slightly ripped jeans (the jeans weren't bought ripped, Richie's just unbelievably clumsy). Eddie hated to say it, but he looked good. Of course he couldnt say that to his face, that's gay. he wasn't gay. He liked girls. For sure.
Well, he wasn't quite for sure.
He couldn't take his eyes off of richies new glasses, the lenses much thinner. His freckles, or his chapped lips. The way his jeans were so tight he could see the outline of his-
"Eddie? Earth to Eds! Take a picture, it'll last longer. We've gotta get, hurry up and get dressed." Richie sassed playfully, amused by the faint pink eddies cheeks were now tinted.
     "Richie, I'm at your house. What do I wear?"
It suddenly dawned on him that today, he had an excuse to put Eddie in his clothes, and Eddie couldn't argue. They both knew he'd rather be wearing clean clothes that were much too big rather than dirty clothes that were much too tight.
They waddled over to richies closet full of neon oranges and colors that normal people wouldn't dare put on their bodies, but Richie was far from normal.
They decided on a faded, probably washed out from being worn so many times, Queen t-shirt that was growing too small for Richie to wear. He found a pair of high waisted jeans that were also too small, handing them to Eddie.
Eddie changed into them, walking back out. The shirt was neatly tucked into the jeans, cuffed at the ankles. Although it was nearly his size, it still hung a little loose around the hip and the shirt was big and the sleeves were a bit long for his liking, coming down to his elbows.
Just like Eddie, Richie stared. He looked really good in his clothes. He'd decided he was definitely letting Eddie keep them.
Richie wore a pair of beat up nikes, Eddie still in his white high-top converse. They walked out to the parking lot, Eddie riding behind Richie on his bike and they pedaled their way to school.

—

     The tapping of a pencil, a rhythm almost pleasing to the ear, the quiet ticking of a clock, richies mind raced to everything. He scanned the room, following any small noise he could possibly hear. It bothered him. He couldn't focus. He had a test in front of him, on geography, and he didn't even know the material.
     Richie didn't study. He had an excuse, his dad decided that was one of his best the shit out of my son days, but of course he couldn't tell them that. They'd worry, and he didn't want them to worry.
     Just as he was finally catching on, realizing what each unbelievably boring word meant, the sound of the blaring bell filled the class and with that, everyone was in a rush to leave. Papers were spilled, chatter was launched,  and Richie was in the middle of all of it. He just wanted to turn his paper in because you see, his favorite part of the day was starting in five minutes and if he wasn't there as soon as possible he will erupt in a fit because he wouldn't get to see his e-
     "Mr. Tozier! See me at my desk once everyone leaves, please." She called, and Richie almost screamed in her old, wrinkly face that he couldn't stay because his Eds is waiting for him at lunch.
     "you didn't finish your test," she said, motioning her head towards the papers in his hand.
     He sighed loudly, "I know," he grumbled.
     "We talked about this, Richie. You have to study! These tests are important. They're shaping y0-"
     Richie rolled his eyes, suddenly becoming tempered. "Don't you dare say this is shaping my future because I think you and I both know I'll never need to know the seven continents and every damn country on the map ever in the real world. You may, because you my social studies teacher, but I don't."
     She sighed, rubbing her temples. "You're a smart kid, Richie, I don't see why you stopped caring! Just a few years back your grades were perfect! Why have they suddenly gone down to Ds and Fs?"
     Richie could see she actually cared, which he found sweet, but he honestly couldn't care less whether he was the smartest kid on the planet or not, so instead of answering, he simply sighed.
     "Have a nice afternoon, Mrs. Oldem. I'll see you tomorrow during free period to finish my test."
     He turned to leave, opening the door. He hesitated slightly, hearing a faint, disappointed "Richie.." escape her lips, but he turned his head and walked to the cafeteria instead.
     He slid into the seat next to Eddie, slyly slinging his arm across eddies shoulder. Eddie wrinkles his nose, shrugging it off. "Have you even washed your hands today?"
    The sound of eddies voice and those words was enough to lift Richies mood. Eddie never failed to make him happy, which was good, because he sure did fail to make Eddie happy. A lot.
     Richie was a fuck up. Like, FUCK UP. He never finished his homework, barely ate anything, played the ukulele and sang stupid edgy songs because he couldn't do anything else. He never told anyone else about the ukulele thing, though. It was sort of embarrassing. Every time eddie was sad, Richie would tell stupid jokes and it'd only make things worse. He tried, he really did. He was scared, every day, that they'd just..not want him anymore. His dad has him scared to shit that one day no one will love him and he'll eat leftover Chinese on the couch every day watching tv because he didn't have any friends. He constantly made shitty jokes because he just wanted his friends to laugh. He wanted them to be like, 'haha Richie, that's so funny, you're hilarious. I love you so much I'll never ditch you ever lol' but he knew that wasn't what was happening. He suddenly snapped out of his spiral, listening closely to what Bill was saying.
     "..and I-I was th-thinking maybe I could f-fuh-ffff-fi-" he struggled, trying to force the word off of his tongue.
     "..fuck me? Aw bill, you shouldn't have!" Richie swooned, only earning a snicker and a smile from Bev, bill rolling his eyes and Stan chiming in.
     "Jesus fuck, Richie, do you ever shut up about sex?" Richie plastered a smile on his face, feeling as if his heart cracked. It'll be fine, he said to himself, we can just band-aid it later.
     "sorry." He mumbled quietly, realizing that maybe he should just, stop. No more lewd jokes, no more talking. that's what they all want, right? He wants to be a good friend, so he guesses that's what he'll do.
   "Fuh-finish it later. That's what I was trying to say." Bill sighed, taking a bite of his apple.
     "see you guys later, losers!" Bev called, running to her locker.
     They had last lunch, so it was nearly time to go home. Richie didn't plan on staying at home, though. He'd just grab his ukulele and head somewhere else. Somewhere safe. He sighed, walking to class.