"No, Bill, I swear it was fucking MAGICAL!"
"I t-told you so! Y-You think he felt l-like that t-too?"
"I don't know man, but I already made him a mixtape."
"He won't enjoy it if you don't give it to him," Stan whispered, looking at how Richie was fidgeting with the cassette between his hands.
"This is so fucking corny, I wanna off myself" Richie sighed, putting it into his shirt pocket again.
"It's just a mixtape, you are not asking his hand in marriage"
"I don't even know if he liked me to begin with. Maybe he's thinking 'Ugh, what an idiot that Tozier guy, I'm so happy I never have to see him again' or some shit like that."
"Didn't you say he even asked you not to leave?" Stan looked at Richie and then rolled his eyes.
"N-No!" Richie blushed a bit. "He just told me that there was no need for me to leave."
"You fucking listened to Bowie together for Christ's sake Richie! It doesn't get much gayer than that."
"Shut up, you asshole" Richie complained. "I shall go look for him, he might be under the bleachers again," he said as he looked again at the mixtape.
It was cheesy. He wasn't going to lie. The whole idea was cheesy, but... It wasn't as if this was the first mixtape he made for Eddie, as much as he hated to admit it. He had a mixtape already done and a few pages of his notebook had song titles written all over them. It was a hard job. Every single song must be perfect, fit the others in a magical way, but he could make it work, he could do a fucking mixtape and play it cool, acting not interested at all.
And he did, he could create the coolest - and cheesiest- playlist to hint subtely to your crush that you are absolutely, hopelessly, devotedly in love with him, without looking like a corny little fucker.
just like heaven, a mixtape by trashmouth to teach eds about GOOD music
1. f. r. david - words
Well, starting off strong.
2. madonna - like a virgin
The guy loved her, that must distract him.
3. styx - the best of times
4. the police - every breath you take
5. the clash - train in vain
6. the cure - boys don't cry
7. queen - it's a hard life
8. the beatles - help!
9. bowie - moonage daydream
10. the cure - just like heaven
"Wow, Richie, this is very... nice from you," Beverly sounded surprised as she checked the tracklist.
"Not gonna lie, Bevs, I was SO FUCKING temped to add Fat Bottomed Girls and CUM Together, but I wanted to be a nice guy for once," Richie admitted.
"You will always be an idiot," she laughed as she left Richie, waving her hand at him and wishing him good luck with a smile.
Richie took a deep breath. He was ready, there was nothing that could happen to him that day that his anxiety haven't prepared him for. Any scenario, any minor inconvenience, ANYTHING.
He walked the short distance he had left to get to the bleachers and... There he was. Eddie had his headphones on, Richie couldn't tell what he was listening to this time, but he was tapping his fingers against his thigh... That was an image that Rich will keep with him... How can a boy's skin be so soft?
"Hell-o, Edd-o!" Richie greeted him as he sat in front of Eddie.
Eddie was sitting criss-cross, he even put his jacket over the grass before sitting, probably because he didn't want to get his new shorts dirty. Richie, on the other hand, was almost laying on the grass, one of his legs flexed and the other stretched.
"Richard!" Eddie said excitedly, feeling a bit embarrassed automatically. "Don't call me that, is it so hard for you to call me Eddie?"
"Don't call me Richard, it sounds like I'm an old man!" He complained, instantly noticing a tiny white and red box next to him. "Are those Marlboros?" Richie asked, pointing at the box. "Aren't you fucking asthmatic or some shit like that?"
"Shut up!" Eddie complained, blushing heavily. "Yes, those are Marlboros, I don't smoke but... Ugh, forget about it. It's fucking embarrassing, okay?" He said as he quickly flexed his legs, hiding his face on his knees.
"Hey, sorry dude..." Richie said, a bit worried. "I never meant to make you feel embarrassed, Trashmouth Tozier is zero judgemental," he told Eddie, trying to lift up the mood.
"I.. I am not quite asthmatic..." Eddie admitted, now even his ears were red.
"What the fuck is that even supposed to mean?" Richie asked, completely clueless.
"Can I just... Trauma-dump to you?"
Richie lifted both eyebrows, at that moment, he wanted to lift only one, but it was not physically possible for him, so he just nodded. He didn't understand why would he do that, they barely knew each other, but Eddie was willing to vomit all his secrets to Richie and it made Tozier feel... Special.
Richie didn't know that he was the closest thing to a friend Eddie had in his entire life. It was always the children of his mother's friends that surrounded him. Richie was something like an angel... A fallen angel, really. Highway lust was in his blood, no girl could ever take his love... And everything Blue Oyster Club meant by that.
That afternoon, Eddie told Richie EVERYTHING, all that was wrong with him, all that his mother made him believe was wrong, the overprotection, the hurt, the placebos, how his mother lied to him and made him think that he could not use the thing other kids used to test their shoe-sizes because it would give him cancer, how he was forced to use his inhaler when he didn't need it, how he was not allergic to nuts, nor cats, nor lactose intolerant. How he was forced to date Harriet and hang out with her. How since his father died his life turned into a living hell basically.
Richie was, for the first time in his entire life, at a loss of words. Nothing came out of his mouth, NOTHING.
"Fuck..." He managed to say. "Now THAT'S fucked up, man."
"So... I have no asthma, but I never smoked in my life, I just wanted to try, to see how it feels, you know?" Eddie admitted.
Richie was surprised that Eddie didn't cry, not even shed a tear while telling him his story. That guy had nerves of steel.
"I think... You should try it."
"Yeah, and cough like a fucking prude in front of you, sure."
"Fuck it, Eddie, it's just a stupid cigarette, okay?" Richie took the box and opened it. He took a cigarette and handed it to Eddie while with his free hand he took his lighter from his pocket.
"I have no clue how to do this," Eddie admitted, looking at Richie a bit scared.
"Listen, it is not that hard, okay? You may cough the first time, but just... Relax, Eds."
"Don't call me Eds." He said, before taking the cigarette and the lighter abruptly from Richie's hands.
Richie was right, Eddie coughed at first, but he didn't feel as embarrassed as he thought he'd feel. When he got the grip of it, it was...
"Not my thing..." Eddie said, scared that Richie would say something or get angry at him.
"It's fine" Rich said, as if it was nothing.
"Huh? You're not angry?"
"Why would I be? I'm not gonna force you to smoke, Eds. I mean, you tried, you didn't like it, it ain't much deeper than that..."
On the other hand, Richie looked... Very good while doing it.
"Thanks, Trashmouth," Eddie sat a bit closer to him, causing goosebumps on Richie's skin.
"Hey, Eds..."
"Don't call me Eds."
"Anyways, Eds," Richie continued, Eddie rolled his eyes. "I know you may go with Harriet to the prom, but... I am going with the rest of the losers as a group. So, if you wanna join us..."
Eddie wanted to say yes, he really wanted to say, but he couldn't.
"You don't have to answer yet." Richie calmed him. "You can hang out with us tomorrow if you'd like, and..." He took a deep breath. "This Saturday is... My birthday... I turn eighteen, woohoo!" He said sarcastically. "Me and the losers are gonna hang out at Mike's hayloft, maybe drink a bit... Nothing too big," he took a deep breath. "And I'd love for you to come, at least to say happy birthday."
Eddie looked at him, Richie may have been hallucinating, but his eyes were glimmering.
"I'd love to go too... I-I'll be there, Richie. I promise."
Richie kept the tape that day, it wasn't time for him to give it to Eddie, nor for Eddie to receive it.