mixtape (reddie)

Chapter 18

The cold creeps in underneath Richie's cuffs, slithering up his arm like slimy snakes making their way towards his neck. He shivers, burrows further into his coat, and pushes the pedals faster to get his body moving. Any heat that exerting the energy creates is instantly washed away by the cold air blasting against his face as they ride downhill.

"Keep up, Hanscom!" Eddie's voice floats through the blistering air, bringing a warmth into Richie's cheeks that eats away all of the frost collecting on the tip of his nose.

Ben pedals past Richie quickly, swerving between Bev and Bill in order to catch up with Eddie near the front. Richie considers picking up the pace just so that he's not left behind or forgotten, but then Stan falls back to match his speed with Richie's. Stan's bike is a newer model of the one Richie has, but the chains still make the exact same clanking noise.

"Have you been out to Mike's farm yet?" Stan asks. Richie nearly doesn't hear him over the howling wind.

"No, this is my first time," Richie shakes his head, grinning over at the more quiet boy.

"It's nice," Stan nods, his hands on the grips of his bike so very tightly. "But... it's best when it's cold like this because Mike's grandma makes us hot chocolate. I've never tasted anything so good."

"Huh-huh-haven't you heard, S-S-Stan?" Bill turns around on his bike, the too-big wheels swerving into Beverly's path as he does so. The girl rolls her eyes and straightens out her line, but otherwise doesn't say anything to Bill's reckless driving. "Sh-sh-she puts in guh-growth hormones t-t-to make you ffffff-ff-f-fat like their c-c-cows."

"That is not true!" Eddie pipes up, a loud scoff slipping out of his mouth like a puff of fog.

"It's totally true," Ben nods affirmatively. "Mike told me himself. She wants to fatten you up, Eddie."

Bill winks at Ben, a movement that Richie does not miss. He feels a bit bad about everyone teasing Eddie, but it's hard when the boy just makes it so easy on himself. He wouldn't be as much of a target if he didn't open himself up to such vulnerable opportunity.

And when Richie sees an opportunity, he can't resist taking it.

"What would she gain from fattening me up? Your story is so stupid, Bill, seriously. Were you dropped as a baby?" Eddie scoffs again, this time a bigger puff of air exhaling into the cold November air.

"So she can eat you, Eds," Richie calls up to the front of the pack. "You think she's going to feed off of a scrawny kid like yourself? No no, she needs to fatten you up like a juicy pork."

"What!" Eddie screeches, resulting in bursts of laughter from everyone around them. The kid's genuine concern isn't that funny, but Richie laughs anyway.

When the group turns left down an old country dirt road, deja vu reaches up and swallows Richie whole. He feels as if he's drowning in it, unable to swim in this neverending ocean of memories flooding in like tsunami waves.

Hot summer afternoons, usually. Dirt flying up behind his tire wheels, scraped knees hitting the handlebars as he rides, and an overwhelming taste of green apple gummy bears that Henry would pick out to save for Richie.

He'd wake up at seven thirty in the morning and ride his bike out to the Bowers farm just outside of town, usually bringing along his BB gun or toy soldiers to line up in the long driveway and watch as Henry kicked them all down with boyish glee. They spent hours together; chasing each other around the farm, wrestling in the crop fields, making forts out of dirt, and crowding around the radio to listen to the baseball game after placing bets. Henry always won, but it's not as if Richie was losing real money. Richie would bet sticks of gum while Henry would put down his baseball cards. It seemed like a fair trade to the two, but Henry would always sneak a card or two into Richie's bookbag when he wasn't looking.