Summary: When you confessed to Richie, you got the expected response, but that doesn't mean it hurt any less. Not even a week later he decides to talk to you, not so subtly jealous about you spending time with Ben. Things sort of...escalate from there.
Warnings: Cussing and Kissing. (oh no, not kissing! *parents screaming, children crying, Ohio catches on fire*) This is a request. DON'T HESITATE TO SEND IN REQUESTS. (Don't send in like 50 tho. I still need sleep.)
"Can I t-talk to you."
Richie stops laughing at Stan and, still giggling, turns to you. "Yeah, what's up?"
You glance over Richie's shoulder to see Beverly shoot you a thumbs up. "I've been, well- It was Beverly's idea! But for a while now..." You stumbled over words, trying to soften the embarrassing blow of 'I have a crush on you'.
"I like you!" You blurt, deciding to get it over with. "I l-like you as more than a friend."
There's a moment of silence in which you count the seconds that painfully tick by.
One. Richie's mouth opens and closes, you can see his eyes dart to the other boys. They're whooping and hollering, pushing him and giggling like idiots.
Two. You can feel the headrush hit you hard, along with waves of nausea.
Three. Teasing smiles stay on the boys' faces, but Beverly's melts off. She knows. She knows what's going to happen.
Four. Richie's ears turn fire hydrant red as you grow pale and faint. His eyes once again scan the boys, who continue to tease without mercy. You close your eyes, wishing they'd stop. There would be nothing to celebrate.
Five. "I'm s-sorry..."
He looks lost, twisting around in his seat on the log. The boys see that something's wrong, thank god. It's about to get very awkward.
"I-"
"Rich, c'mon..." You say, laughing lightly, as if the situation could be taken that way. You're preparing to lie through your teeth, desperate to take it back. "It's just a small t-thing. It's not even a-a crush anymore! There, Bev, I said it? We're all okay? All good?"
The air is thick and you can feel it, choking you. "(Name), I don't- I don't think of you-I just..." Richie stutters, only making the situation worse. "I don't like you like that."
Like that. He couldn't even name what the feeling was. He was too grossed out to say it out loud, and that's what stung the most.
"Richie, I was joking." You state firmly. The sheer humiliation was enough to make a grown man cry, but not you. It was easier to be mad at him than at yourself. "I was completely kidding! But now you've made it weird. Thanks for that."
"(Name)-"
"Richie, it's fine!" You repeat, trying to convince yourself more than him. "Honestly, why are you making such a big deal out of this? Jesus..."
You get off the log and brush yourself off, walking over to your bike. Everyone's eyes kept flicking from you to Richie like in a soccer watch. Even with your back turned, you could still feel their gazes, burning holes into your back. You turn towards them, mounting your bike.
"Guy really, stop acting like it's such a big deal!" You say, throwing your hands up in defeat. They were still quiet. Mike looked at you with pity, Bill stared at the ground and Ben whistled lowly, thinking no one could hear him.
"Okay, you guys are making this weird. I'm out!" You call, beginning to pedal away. Don't cry, you'll make it worse, don't cry, you won't be able to stop. You repeat that in your head until it sticks, but it's getting harder and harder to steer the bike as your eyes glaze over.
Just don't talk to them for a while. It'll be forgotten soon.
It wasn't forgotten. Fuck. A couple days later, after avoiding leaving your house in fear of meeting Richie on the streets, your doorbell rang. You walked over to the door apprehensively, seeing Ben's smiling face through the peephole.
"Hey..." You greet slowly, narrowing your eyes in suspicion and opening the door. "What are you doing here?"
"I wanted to see if you were okay." Ben says sweetly, still standing on your porch. You suspected he didn't come here to hang out inside your house. "We've been wondering how you're doing."
"I'm surviving." You answer, noticing Ben's own crestfallen aura. "A-are doing alright?"
"Yeah! I- well, Beverly..." He stops and shaked his head, forcing a smile. "Nevermind, I came to check up on you."
"Wait, no. Don't change the subject." You say. "If you rant to me you'll probably feel better."
"She didn't do anything-I don't really wanna talk about it..."
"Oh..." You run a hand through your hair. "Well, since we're both feeling shitty, let's go out."
Ben squints and tilts his head, confused. "Out where? Like on a date?"
"No, dumbass." You chuckle. Leave it to Ben to make you feel better, no matter how shitty your day was. "Just... out. Y'know, the arcade. McDonald's sounds good right now."
Ben brightens and bounces on the heels of his shoes. "Yeah! That's cool!"
You walk over to the coat rack and grab your black windbreaker, pulling it on. "Let's go get fucked over by junkfood."
You observed the cafeteria, dreading when Richie would come and sit down at your usual table. He was walking from the lunch line in slow motion, your brain going fuzzy with panic. You stared down at your food, refusing to look up again.
"Can I talk to you."
You nearly snorted. Nearly. Those were the exact words you said to him the day you confessed, and the irony was killing you. Well, you wished the irony killed you; it'd be less embarrassing then. You didn't look at him but kept picking at your food, intent on ignoring your problems.
"I, uh, saw you and Ben last Friday." He says, sitting down next to you. "So are you and him-y'know...a thing now?"
You look up at him only to glare. "I'm just asking because I'd like to know, is all." He quickly corrects himself. Damn. Richie Tozier is tongue tied for the second time this week. That must be a record. "To l-leave you guys alone when you-when you need it."
"Ben and I were hanging out, yeah." You say blankly, your face dropping to an unreadable expression. "Why do you care?"
"Because... Because I don't think you and him look good together." He says quickly, scowling at Ben, who was standing in the lunch line and looking innocent as ever. "Personality differences and other shit."
You still stare at him through half lidded eyes, not amused at all. "Why. Do. You. Care."
"God-I don't know!" Richie exclaims. "I just think that maybe, you'd tell me if you were dating anyone."
"Ben and I aren't dating." You say cooly, although your temper was rising steadily. "None of your business who I'm dating anyway, 'cuz you don't think of me that way, remember?"
"I just-"
"No Richie, you don't get to answer that!" You cry out, earning weird looks from nearby kids. "You're the one who rejected me!"
"I was scared!" He says. "You asked me to say something back in front of Bev and Mike and Eddie-"
"If you can't admit that you like me in front of our friends," You say stiffly, more and more irritated. "Then you don't actually like me. Which you don't! You don't like me, and you've made that clear."
Richie looks at you incredulously, like what you just said was some sort of crime and suddenly stands up on the tables bench.
You panic even more, pulling at his pant leg, begging him to sit down. "Richie get off! What the hell are you even doing?"
"Hey you losers, I like (Name)!" He yells over the cafeteria's loud chatter, drawing even more attention. By now, more than half the cafeteria was staring at you and him. To your horror, everyone quiets down, listening to what the weird kid has to say.
"I like (Full Name) and everyone should know!" He shouts again, cupping his hands to use as a megaphone. "And I was an idiot and a dumbass not to tell her, but here I am now!"
You hide your face in your hands, turning the color of a ripe strawberry.
"So yeah," Richie announces. "For once in my life I'm done caring about what you assholes think! She's perfect and smart and nice and sarcastic and I think I love her!"
Finished with his big speech, he plops back down, red in the face and panting slightly from yelling. A shocked silence lasts as Richie counts the seconds, waiting for you.
One. You look at him through your fingers, mortified and overjoyed at the same time.
Two. Slowly, what he just did registers in your mind. He just humiliated himself in front of the entire cafeteria. For you.
Three. Your chest feels so hot it physically hurts, ready to explode with admiration and disbelief at this stupid boy.
Four. Richie waits patiently for your reaction, crossing his fingers under the table.
Five. "Y-you fucking dick!" You say, punching him in the arm. "That was-what was that?"
"I'm not scared to tell anyone I like you." Richie says, rubbing his sore arms with a sheepish grin plastered on his face. "You said that if I'm too scared to tell anyone I like you then it's not true, so I just told the whole school."
"I-you fucking-what the-argh!" You give up on scolding and grab the back of his neck, your lips colliding with his. Richie reacts almost immediately, holding your face in his hands so gently your heart exploded for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. You tilted your head to the side and weave your fingers through the curls on the back of his neck, only coming up when you were dying for air.
You see Beverly absolutely beaming in her place at the lunch line, Ben clapping rapidly, Eddie getting a book out of his bag, probably to check if kissing could transmit serious diseases. Bill was smirking and Mike slapped money into Stan's hand.
"They're never going to forget this, are they?" Richie asks, flashing Stan a quick middle finger.
"Most likely not."
Richie watches the terrible cafeteria light reflect off your cheekbones, somehow giving your face an almost angelic look, like something that is too good to belong in a town like this. Your eyes are brighter than usual and filled with childish laughter, this time not because of the cheap blinding lights, and Richie had to wonder if this was more than just a dumb school crush.
"Good."