mixtape (reddie)

Chapter 9

For the first time in over a year, Richie does not crawl out of his window to meet up with Beverly Marsh. He wonders if she's waiting, looking at her watch impatiently, and he wonders if she's going to give up easily or persevere through the night.

Instead, Bill Denbrough sits in the middle of Richie's (now clean) bed. He's playing with the Rubix cube that Richie forgot he owned, while Stan and Rich sort through the box of tapes that Stanley brought with him.

"Hey, uh, thanks for this," Richie mumbles, adjusting the glasses on his face.

"You're welcome," Bill smiles, the simple sounds of the Rubix Cube shifting around. Plastic on plastic.

"Needed a way to get rid of these tapes," Stanley shakes his head. "What's better than a trashcan? Richie Tozier seemed like the next best thing."

"Oh, sure, trash the trashmouth," Richie scoffs. He stands up from the floor, heading over to his desk and opening the top drawer. Once pulling out his pack of cigarettes, he saunters over to the window and takes a seat in the frame. Neither of the two say anything, so Richie hangs out the window and smokes patiently.

"Have you heard from Eddie?" Stan asks.

Richie lifts his head, looking over his shoulder and raising an eyebrow at the skinny boy.

Richie had called the Denbrough house immediately after school, his shaking voice asking if Bill wanted to spend the night. Currently, Richie's parents are out of town, and Rich hates being in this house all alone. Bill said yes, and then called back ten minutes later. Stan wanted to come with, and Richie couldn't say no. The two were on Richie's doorsteps only a mere fifteen minutes later, holding sleeping bags and a box of cassette tapes as a welcoming gift.

Richie did everything he could to make the two comfortable, making microwave popcorn and bringing cans of soda up whenever they slurped the last of their previous cola. Richie had never had guests over, not even Beverly. He wanted Bill and Stan to have fun, but more predominantly, Richie wanted them to like him.

"N-No," Bill's voice answers, so Richie's heart relaxes. He has a paralyzing, irrational fear of Eddie's friends discovering the thoughts that circle around Richie's mind when he thinks of polkadot noses. "He hasn't g-gotten permission from his mmmm-m-mother yet."

"She'll never give him permission," Stanley whines. "She'll have a stroke the second he asks her."

"Asks her what?" Richie turns around in the window frame. He holds his arm far out, careful to not let any of the smoke billow into his bedroom with the wind. Just because his parents aren't home doesn't mean the smell of nicotine doesn't linger.

"We were all planning to go camping. Do you want to come with?" Stanley informs him.

Richie scoffs, looking over at his desk, feeling the hurt impact him roughly. Still, his exterior hardens, and he spits out "What, a pity invite?"

"No?" Stan responds. "It hadn't come up until now. Do you want to come or not?"

Richie feels his cheeks burn, finally meeting someone who doesn't put up with his bullshit the way that Beverly does. Bev. A pang of guilt eats at him when he imagines her shaking in the cold, waiting for the boy that will never show up.

"Um... I've never gone camping before," Richie timidly admits. Nobody has ever invited him.

"It-It-It's fun," Bill chimes in, letting out an excited chirp when he completes one side of the Rubix Cube. "No adult s-supervision... get t-t-to stay up as long as w-w-we want..."

"We're doing that now, genius," Richie comments, taking one last drag from his cigarette before stubbing it out on the side of the rose trellis and letting it drop to the ground below.