This weekend is no different than the others. It went by fast, too fast, and next thing Richie knows it's 5:00 PM and Sunday.
12:00 PM
He first woke up at noon, bright midday light streaming into his bedroom. He went to the bathroom to do his daily routine, brushing his teeth, washing his face, taking a shower.. He dried his hair when he was finished and headed downstairs to get to work.
Richie isn't one for cleaning or chores, but if he didn't do something, the house would continue to be just that- a house. A cold, empty, dust collecting house. The need to spark some liveliness burns at his core, and that he does.
Richie started with the living room, vacuuming the crusty carpet until it had a hint of fluff to it again. The obnoxiously loud hum of the vacuum drowned out the TV and it was the only sound in the house until Richie pulled out the plug. He had wiped down every surface - counters, tables, shelves, railings, etc...
As he moved to the kitchen, he picked up strewn about items and put them back into their respective places. He placed the dishes into the dishwasher and as they were being cleaned, he walked to the dining room with a duster.
Richie's parents room and the dining room were the two places in the house he's rarely stepped foot in. It's the two main rooms in the house that pounds Richie with the reminder that his parents aren't the same people all those years ago.
The dining room is simple. Maggie's china cabinet is pushed up against the adjacent wall and a brown table and chair set is situated in the middle, an unlit candle sat in the center of the table. Richie reached out and thumbed the wax, trying to remember the last time that candle had been lit. The memory floated in fuzzy and Richie dropped his hand.
Shelves and a broken clock hung on the opposite wall. Trinkets and frames of all sizes littered the shelves, telling stories from Richie's childhood. He studied them for a moment, trying to remember how old he was when he made this and when that picture was taken.
He sighed softly, his eyes lingering on the last family photo his mother dragged them to before taking the duster to the glass frames.
3:00 PM
He collapsed onto the couch, exhaustion settling into all corners of his body. He flicked his glasses up onto his head, pushing falling hair out of his eyes, and wiped the bridge of his nose. He shifted, trying to unstick his clothes from his heated body.
i'm never doing housework again, he thought.
Breathing in deeply, Richie closed his eyes, thinking he'd only lay there for a moment before getting up again.
4:30 PM
The second time Richie woke up was from his phone buzzing with an incoming text. He pushed himself up into a sitting position only for soreness of sleeping on his side to strike his shoulder. As he slowly rolled the soreness out, he stood and let his bare feet sink into the carpet.
Light pressure dragged down his forehead and before Richie could think, his glasses went tumbling down his face and hit the floor. His breath hitched in surprise. His phone buzzed again and he came down from his small adrenaline high. Picking up his glasses and sliding them onto his face, his vision finally sharpened.
The setting sun painted golden window-shaped rectangles onto his living room walls. The sunlight hit the TV, blinding the screen and showing off all the dust and fingerprints Richie forgot to clean off. But he didn't mind and turned around to look out the window.
Beverly's favorite time of day is this. When the sun starts to set, the temperature drops just slightly, and golden rays cast over Derry. She says it gives her hope, hope that she can one day ditch this unfortunate town and find a new home. Richie nodded along and thought of all the new places he could find a new home. As he looked at Beverly, he thought she could be his home.
He picked up his phone and read the texts that appeared on his lock screen.
Eddie
Hey
Are we still meeting up or what? I have a few ideas for the project
"Oh.. fuck!" Richie hurriedly raced to the stairs, climbing them as he texted Eddie back.
5:00 PM
Now, as Richie pulls up to the local library, he wonders why he ever agreed to meeting up in the first place. Derry's library reminds Richie of a grandmothers house - he never went inside unless forced to and the smell of old lady perfume and cookies linger in the air. He walks in and a blast of hot air pushes his hair to his forehead.
Richie's mother says Derry has barely changed since she was a teenager in the 80s, and the library is no different. It's a large building with huge, curved windows high above the bookshelves. The same worn down wooden chairs and tables are situated in the middle of the building, small lamps on each table.
Because it's such a large building, every move echoes easily. The hinges of the door pity Richie, and instead of the doors slamming closed, they are caught and slowly fall into the doorframe with a soft thud.
He looks around and his eyes almost instantly catch Eddie sitting back at one of the far tables, his feet pulled up onto his chair and the school-given laptop open in front of him. Richie weaves through the other tables to get to him.
Eddie glances up from his phone as Richie pulls out a chair, the legs scraping across the floors. "I see you finally showed up," Eddie says as he shuts off his phone. Richie doesn't pick up on the sourness of his words and pulls out his laptop from his own backpack.
"Fashionably late, Eddie."
"Or just plain late," he mutters. He sits back in his chair, ready to get this project over with so he only has to see Richie in school, not out. As Richie waits for his laptop to start up, Eddie reaches past his notebook to pick up his pencil. The movement catches Richie's eyes and he glances at Eddie, only for something else to make him watch with more interest.
Each fingernail is carefully painted, the colors flip-flopping between red and green. Without thinking, Richie blurts out, "You paint your nails?" Eddie freezes for a second and anxious eyes dart up.
"Mhm," he hums and pulls his hand to himself. Richie notices his apprehensiveness and quickly shakes his head, trying to show Eddie that it's okay. it's alright, see?
"They're- they're cute," he says. And he truly thinks they are cute. It fits in with Eddie and his personality so well, Richie thinks he might've found the most perfect boy out there.
He looks up again, the anxiousness gone from behind his eyes. "You think?"
Richie nods and leans over the table to inspect his nails. "Yeah. I could never go out in public with painted nails..." He barely registers what he himself said, his whole focus on the alternating red and green. It looks professionally done, and maybe it is.
Eddie uncurls his fingers and watches as Richie detaches himself from the edge of the table. His eyes search the face sitting across from him for a second before slowly asking, "Are you saying you paint your nails?" Richie lifts his gaze and meets Eddie's eyes. Hesitation hangs in the air for a moment and Richie looks to his laptop, blue home screen reflecting off his glasses.
"Yeah," he confesses. "Sometimes."
Eddie lets his gaze drop from Richie and to the table. He feels the need to say something, the small confession hangs heavy in the air - for Richie, at least. "It's not too bad," Eddie says with a shrug. "People are more accepting now. I mean, yeah, I get weird looks from teachers and Bowers' gang, but as long as you ignore them you're fine."
Richie keeps his eyes trained on the screen and Eddie waits for him to say something back. When he doesn't, Eddie's eyes roll and he goes back to his notebook.
why did I say that? he clearly doesn't care..
Eddie slumps in his chair, regret planting itself in his guts. Before he could press the pencil to paper, he hears, "Bowers can suck it." Looking up, he sees that Richie's smiling a little. Eddie breaths out a soft laugh and feels the corners of his mouth turn upward.
"Yes he can," he agrees.
~~~
The two get an hour of work in and Richie starts to get impatient. The hardness of the chair digs into his bottom and he can never seem to get comfortable. "Stop moving so much," Eddie says without looking up. "You're distracting me."
Richie sets his chin in his hand and smiles. "I can think of funner ways to distract you," he says.
Eddie finally looks up, his eyes narrowed. "That's disgusting. And, it's 'more fun' not 'funner' Einstein."
Richie hums shortly and drops his hand onto the table. "We're working on history, not english, so put the grammar police away." Eddie rolls his eyes and goes back to the research, ignoring him.
Richie watches as Eddie diverts his attention and his shoulders slump. Disappointment forms in his body at the lack of Eddie's attention and he looks away.
Daydreaming has always gotten the best of Richie at the most inconvenient times, and this is one of them. He gazes up at the high ceilings, his eyes trailing the support beams to the large chandelier that hangs from the center of the ceiling. It was an apology gift from the mayor of Bangor after one of their trains derailed into one of Derry's trains. No casualties, just a lot of money spent on repairments.
His eyes fall onto one of the windows. It's dark out now and the pixelated time in the corner of his laptop says 6:20 PM. The nighttime that surrounds the softly lit library gives off strange vibes, the same that midnight trips to Walmart gives off. Time is warped, and if you focus on something for too long, it doesn't seem quite real.
"Richie," Eddie says again and his eyes snap down.
"What?"
Eddie's elbow is on the table, a hand limply hanging in the air. "Are you going to work at all? I'm not doing this whole project myself," he says and takes his elbow off the table.
Richie quickly nods and leans back in the hard chair. "Sorry," he says, glancing at Eddie, "Just can't seem to focus. I can't get your mom out of my head." Richie doesn't even think about it, the joke just slips past his lips.
Eddie pauses, his eyes trained on the weaves of the wooden table. "Did- did you just make a your mom joke?" He asks.
The realization of what he had said hits Richie and his pencil rolls around in his loosening grip. "I.. yeah," he says and straightens his back. His skin pricks with insecurities, awkwardness caving back into his movements.
you're okay, you're fine, richie tozier is okay
He puts a smile on and rotates his pencil in his hand. "My jokes are a gift."
Eddie snorts and shakes his head. "Is that what you're calling them?" A smile plays at Eddie's lips and confidence washes over Richie as he nods.
"That's because that's what they are, Eddie." He shakes his head again, the small smile lingering.
"Sure, Rich," he agrees.
Eddie once again goes back to his work and silence falls between the two. Richie watches as Eddie reads something on screen, his eyes trailing back and forth. His eyes fall and he too attempts to go back to his work.
But it doesn't last long.
Richie realizes he's been spacing out and sits back in his chair, dramatically sighing. Eddie looks up, sees that Richie isn't working and rolls his eyes. "How hard is it for you to focus, huh?" He asks and Richie looks over at him.
"Pretty hard, dude." He pauses and thinks for a second. "But you know what makes me focus?" Eddie pushes out an irritated breath and drops his pencil.
"What?"
Richie grins. "A movie."
"A movie?" Eddie asks, deadpanning.
Richie seemingly has made up his mind as he stands and starts packing his things. "Yes, Eddie! It'll be fun, better than sitting in these hard ass chairs working on shit we can easily work on during school."
Eddie shakes his head, lips parted in surprise. "What? Richie, no. I'm not going to the movies."
Richie pushes his laptop closed and looks at him. "Come on, Eddie," he says pleadingly.
Eddie sucks in his lips as he stares at Richie. "No," he says again, a little more firmly this time. "We're supposed to be a team on this, Rich!"
"And we always will be," Richie quickly says back. "Now let's go."
Eddie watches as he finishes packing up and swings a strap over his shoulder. He pauses and looks down at Eddie. "It's 6:30," Eddie notes, a hand motioning to his laptop. "The movie will probably finish around 8:30 and I won't be here."
Richie can't help but laugh softly. He grabs the back of the chair he was sitting on and leans forward. "Of course you won't be. Neither will I, we'll be watching a movie!"
"I'm not going!" Eddie's voice raises and he quickly folds into himself, glancing around the library. It's almost empty apart from the two teenaged boys, just an older woman sitting across the room reading and the librarians strolling around with carts as they replace books. "Have fun going to the movies alone, loser."
Laughter bubbles up within Richie. "Loser?" He repeats, his smile growing. The frustration continues to rise within Eddie as he watches Richie laugh at his visible anger.
who the fuck does he think he is? Eddie thinks.
"Name calling now, huh, Eds?"
"Eds!?" Eddie's legs burn with the urge to stand, but he stays glued to his chair. Richie smiles, making Eddie's frustration rise up to his chest. "Do not start calling me that," he warns but Richie had already turned around and started walking down the aisle.
He squeezes his eyes shut and breaths out, trying to force his anger to simmer down. The echoing sound of large doors opening ring out, urging Eddie to open his eyes but he doesn't give in until he's sure Richie is gone.
Eddie's leg bounces and he attempts to focus on the project. He knew Richie wouldn't do anything, he knew from the start and here he is, working on it alone as Richie leaves to watch a movie. His eyes are pulled to the entrance. His leg bounces faster.
What if he went with? Richie's technically not wrong, they could work on it in class. And it's not due for another two-ish weeks...
no, Eddie tells himself, i'm working on this for a good grade and no trashmouth is...
He presses his lips together and groans quietly. It's now or never, really. Now or never.
Eddie stands and hastily shoves everything in his backpack. He doesn't bother to push in his chair and races down the aisles of tables, anxiety starting to build in his stomach.
he's probably already gone, i've waited too long
Eddie pushes the door open, cold sweeping past it and hitting him in the face. He steps out under the green canopy that hangs over the entry way and yellowing lights blind him. He raises an arm, squinting to keep the light from hurting his eyes more.
It takes Eddie a second, but he realizes the car is idling. He runs around the front of the car, fighting for a breath against the strong winds, and forces the car door open.
Richie sits in the drivers seat, hand on the gear shift as he smiles smugly. "Why hello there, Eds."
Eddie's eyes sharpen into a glare as he gets in. "Do not fucking call me that," he snaps before settling into the leather seat. Realization of what he's doing strikes him and he fumbles with the strap of his backpack. "Just- just drive," he forces out and Richie obliges.
The fogged up windows blur the red glow of the movie theater lights as Richie pulls up against the curb. "What type of movies do ya like?" He asks as Eddie unbuckles.
"Um.. no horror, please," he says. A hand lingers on the buckle strap and he adds, "and no romance. Those are too cheesy and cliché, you know?" Richie nods and the two get out, braving the cold whips of the wind as they trudge towards the theater.
"They're playing Christmas movies," Eddie says and raises a hand to point out a large cut out.
Richie studies it and Eddie drops his hand. "Noelle?" Richie asks, reading the bold white letters as he takes a step toward it. "Holy shit, is that Anna Kendrick?" Eddie looks at the girl dressed up in red and white Christmas apparel, a shocked expression frozen onto her face.
"From Pitch Perfect?" Eddie asks and Richie nods.
"Hell yeah! I had the biggest crush on her back when the movies first came out," he explains, the smile never leaving his face.
Eddie watches Richie for a second longer before turning around, ignoring the thick heat that pools in his chest. "Tickets, Richie, we need tickets." His gaze is pulled from the cut out and he follows Eddie to the main counter.
A bored looking man sits behind it, sitting up strait when Richie and Eddie approach. "Hey," he says. "What are you two watchin' tonight?" Eddie looks to Richie as he peers up at the screens.
"What are you feeling like watching, Eds?" He asks.
"I don't fucking know. You dragged me here." Richie pulls his gaze away from the screen and to Eddie.
"Correction: I didn't drag you here, you chased my car down and got in yourself." A smile plays at his lips and Eddie crosses his arms.
"Fuck you," is the only thing he can think of. Richie laughs softly and looks back up at the screens.
"Oh!" He says excitedly. "Back To The Future is playing!"
Eddie lifts his gaze to Richie, irritation etched onto his face as Richie says, "Two tickets to Back To The Future my good sir!" His words go funky with the British accent and Eddie's eyes roll.
They get their tickets and also buy a large popcorn and drinks. They enter theater 6 and look up at the rows of empty seats. "Is every place we go to going to be fucking deserted?" Richie asks.
"Duh," Eddie says and pushes past him to walk up the stairs. "It's 7 o'clock on a Sunday, everyone's at home."
The two get the best seats right in the middle of the theater. The screen is huge in front of them and plays previews for upcoming movies. Eddie settles into his seat, forcing his drink into the cup holder and pulling his legs up. Richie watches him as a hand grabs for a few pieces of popcorn.
Something attacks Eddie's face and he jerks away, an arm shooting up to defend himself. He only lowers it when he hears Richie's laughs over the deafening volumes of the ads. "Really?" Eddie asks as he glances down, popcorn falling from the creases of his shirt to his lap. "Fuck you, really." He grabs the popcorn and tosses it Richie's way. One flys past him but another hits him in the cheek, making Eddie smile proudly to himself, but that only makes Richie laugh even harder.
Eddie expects to be annoyed or upset in some way, but he feels his own laughter bubbling up in his chest.
richie's laughter is just the contagious type, he tries to reason with himself. It doesn't sit right with him, as if it's a puzzle piece that doesn't seem to click in correctly, but he brushes it off.
He overpowers the laughter and turns back to the large screen as Richie's fizzles out. He watches out of the corner of his eye as Richie brushes popcorn off himself, flicking it to the ground.
The movie ends around 9 and the grin never leaves Richie's face as he and Eddie walk out the theater. "That's such a good movie," he says and looks down at Eddie. "What would you do if you could go back in time? Oh man, I'd probably go see Queen in concert..."
Eddie looks off as he thinks. "I'm not sure," he says as Richie opens the entrance door for the both of them. Eddie pauses in the doorway and cold sweeps past him and to Richie.
"What?" He asks and Eddie motions outside.
The lights of the theater give off enough for Richie to see as snow harshly falls from gray skies, whipping around in all directions. "Oh fuck," he mutters. "Ready to run for it?"
Eddie lifts his gaze up, apprehensiveness building a wall between them. "Run for it?" Eddie repeats and looks back outside. "I can't run. I have asthma, dickwad!"
Richie snorts softly and ruffles Eddie hair, much to his annoyance. "You can run 20 feet, Eds. On the count of three... One.."
"No fucking way am I doing this."
"Two." Richie grabs Eddie's hand.
"Can't you just-"
"Three!"
Richie takes off, his hand still tightly griping Eddie's as he dashes through the snow. The flakes stick to his glasses and the winds pushes against their faces, making it hard to breath. Eddie's legs fall into a pace and he expects to be struggling for air, which he technically is, but not in the way he expects.
They reach the car, the lights flashing as Richie unlocks it, and they climb in. Eddie's door is the last to shut and silence surrounds them in a heavy blanket, very different to the howling winds that fought them seconds ago. Eddie breaths in deeply, glad the invisible barrier in front of his nose is now gone.
"Getting caught in a blizzard wasn't on my to-do list," Richie says as he fumbles for his keys before pushing one in.
"Yeah, tell me about it," Eddie says and bows his head, shaking snow out of his hair.
The car starts up and Richie flicks on seat warmers. "Could we go to my house?" Eddie asks.
Richie smiles and pulls the car into reverse. "Taking me home before a first date? I like your style, Eds."
The urge time lightly slap Richie tugs at his hand, but he rubs it against his arm instead and shakes his head. "You wish. I meant take me home," he says. Richie snorts softly and drives onto the main roads. "And that's not my name!" Eddie quickly adds.
~~~
The car pulls up to the Kaspbrak Residence within 10 minutes. The snow has calmed down and little flurries dip around in the air. Eddie unbuckles and pulls up his backpack. "Thanks," he says before getting out. He rounds the car and walks up the porch, dodging the overgrown vines that have overtaken the front of the porch.
He hears a "hey, Eddie!" from behind him and turns around. Richie's window is rolled down, an elbow hanging out of it. "Did you have fun?" He asks.
yes, Eddie shamelessly thinks. i did have fun
He sucks in his lips and shifts his weight. "N..No," he forces out. He refuses to look directly at Richie as he can already picture his disappointment easily in his mind. "We're working next time." Eddie turns and heads inside, leaving his words to hang heavy in the air.