california here we go

3- corduroy dreams

"richie i told you to get up ten minutes ago," stan said, and even without his glasses on richie knew stan was standing with his arms crossed.

"five more minutesss," richie slurred out, his voice thick with sleep.
"i'm going to fucking tickle you, richard."
ah. that one worked.
richie scrambled to find his glasses, thankfully having left them sitting on top of his phone on stan's desk before he went to sleep. as his eyes got used to the light and, well, being able to see, richie looked around stan's room- taking it all in. it would be the last time he would.
stan was quite the opposite of richie- where richie was loud and messy and reckless, stan was quiet and neat and calculating. that was even shown by his bedroom. richie had posters covering every wall, his wardrobe and drawers were overflowing, his desk was covered in sheet music and comedy sketches he had written- in short, it was a mess. stan's room was not. yeah, he had his posters on the walls (albeit straight and organised)- stan couldn't bare not to show off his love for rex orange county and queen. there were black sharpie lines with little initials, r and s, and dates beside them (showing how much richie and stan had grown in the fifteen years that they had been friends) on the door frame but they were intentional and made the room more homely. the messiest thing in the room was richie. who still hadn't got the fuck out of bed.

"richie will you please get ready," stan sighed.
richie looked at him, his eyebrows furrowing- he had forgotten stan was waiting on him. richie almost did a double take.
"you're wearing your yarmulke," richie observed, curious.
"yeah richie, i am. and you're going to wear one too."
richie snorted at that, "am i? i don't fucking think so. last time i wore one was my bar mitzvah, stan. i intend on keeping it that way."
stan groaned. "i told you this last night. my dad is freaking out that we're both going to lose our faith and go off the rails- yes i know you aren't religious but dad doesn't need to know that." stan added the last part quickly, noticing richie about to cut him off.
"i don't think it'll match my outfit, staniel."
"please richie, for once, just make my life easy."
richie sighed dramatically as he stood up.
"the things i do for you. when are my parents coming round for goodbyes?"
"08:30am which is..." stan took his phone out of the pocket of the his trousers. richie felt the corner of his lip twitch into a half smile. stan was wearing the light blue corduroy trousers richie had bought him for his 18th birthday. "forty-five minutes. hurry the fuck up."

when richie returned from getting ready, twenty minutes had passed. he looked at stan's outfit a bit harder- light blue corduroy trousers, white collared shirt and a darker blue sweater, topped off with white converse.
"i feel underdressed compared to you," richie remarked, looking down at his own ensemble- his trademark black mom jeans, a white FIDLAR t-shirt, a turquoise and green windbreaker and his favourite black vans.
stan looked richie up and down, "i'm glad you've dropped the hawaiian shirt for today. don't want to make a negative impression on your roommates."
"they could be our roommates, stan. don't be so negative."
"i doubt it. besides, i'm not checking the email until we get through security at the airport."
"why?"
"more important things to worry about right now. c'mon we need to eat breakfast."
richie followed stan towards his bedroom door, pausing when stan abruptly stopped and turned to richie.
"do not take that jacket off. if my dad sees your tattoos i'm afraid he'll cry."
"is your dad okay, stan?" richie asked, his voice soft, "he isn't usually... like that."
stan sighed and walked away from the door and back into the middle of the room.
"it's just- he's scared, obviously. since i'm the only child. he doesn't want me to just stop being jewish when we leave. even though i've told him it isn't going to happen. sure, i'm not heavily religious any more and i don't go to synagogue unless it's a holiday but it's still our faith and our culture- i'm not going to throw it away. it's part of me, of both of us."
richie regarded his best friend with sad eyes for a moment, before opening his arms and hugging him. "he's a rabbi, i get why he's scared. i hope you'll come out of your shell and stop worrying about your dad's opinion in college but i know your faith isn't the issue and i know you're not going to throw it away. but yes, i'll keep my jacket on and i'll wear this fucking yarmulke until we get to the airport."
stan smiled at richie, "you may be an asshole, but i'm glad you're my best friend."
richie laughed, "that's the nicest thing you've said to me since the last time i got beaten up in school."
stan rolled his eyes.
"come on, richie. best behaviour."
"i managed it last night, didn't i?"
"only because my mom made matzoh ball soup and that's the only thing that'll make you shut the fuck up."
"touché."