mixtape (reddie)

November 14th, 1988 (evening)

Rich,

It's technically the same day, just later in the evening as opposed to the middle of the night.

The morning started out dry and crisp, as if the weather had taken the life out of Derry itself and not just the changing leaves. My room packed humidity, but it was hot. Not just warm, but rather hot. I could feel myself sweating beneath my clothes, little droplets of rainfall forming under my storm cloud skin and rolling down my body like hurricanes. I didn't move, however. Even though you made me sweat like a pig, I wanted to stay in your arms. Or, actually, I wanted you to stay in mine. I may be smaller, but you love to be held, Richie. I think it's the neglect. You need to be held.

When my alarm went off, you sat up and pushed me away very quickly. Instead of staying and getting ready with me, you mumbled curse words under your breath and gathered your things throughout the room like the whole night had been a mistake. I didn't say anything, just sat on my bed and watched you go. Ballerina, I think. In our past life, you weren't some banker or middle aged family man. You were a ballerina. You dance so delicately, you slip out of my window like a finishing move. I couldn't even hear you land, you're so quiet on your feet.

Then, I got ready for school and lied to my mother about how I slept. I told her it was fine, but my room was cold, so I didn't know if I was feeling too well. The truth was; my room was hot, burning hot, with fire and lava and heat and just... I don't know what to call it. Passion seems too intense, but it seems to be the closest thing that my mind can think of. I just think I wish you would have stayed. You left your jacket, though, so maybe that can substitute as some kind of Tozier stand-in until you stay over again.

During first period Beverly told me that you are serving detention today. I think it's wrong. You shouldn't be getting punished for self defense, and especially not when the fight was four against one? Henry Bowers is a psychopath and I feel guilty that I ever even got you involved with him. You don't deserve to be punched, not when you have such a heavenly face. Doesn't he see that? Probably not, actually. The kid would rather slit his wrists than ever be attracted to another man. I feel sorry for the broad that marries him.

Oh, jeez, I didn't mean to imply that I'm attracted to you. I'm not. I'm not gay, but it's okay if you are. I don't know. I just... get those feelings whenever I'm around you? The feelings that you might be a queer? If you are, it's okay, I don't mind. I just don't want people to think that we're queers together, I have enough of a hard time trying to convince everyone that I'm straight as it is. I'll ask Stanley. He knows a lot of the gays at our school, maybe he'll be able to tell if you are too. Bill calls this "gaydar" but I don't know what that means. Billy thinks that Stan is a little gay too. He always catches Stan staring at him, and one time, Stan went to hold his hand while they were walking around the cul de sac. Sometimes I catch you staring at me, so maybe... but I just hope that it's not for me. I'm not gay, and neither is Bill, so. I don't know. I'll ask Stanley to use his "gaydar" anyway. It sounds like an X-ray gun, though, and we all stopped playing guns when we got to middle school.

Whatever. I am rambling. The point is, you had to serve detention for defending yourself in a fight that wouldn't have happened if I didn't make you walk to class with me. I should toughen up on my own so that I don't have to make you fight my battles, I hate seeing the way your skin bruises. It bruises easily. I don't want to ever see any discoloration on your face again. It just might damn near break my heart.

At the end of the day, while Bev was taking you to detention, I ran into Ben outside the building. He asked if I wanted to go down to the Barrens with you guys, and I wanted to. I did. But I know that I can't be down in those sewers, not after the time I came home with grass stains on my shorts and my mother made me stay inside for a week. If she found out I was playing down in the Barrens, I think she would homeschool me up until college. I don't want that. I want to be able to see you. Even if it's just in our math class, when you're staring out the window to your left and I can't see your face. I can see the silhouette of it, though, and the outline of your prominent features is enough for me. You usually have headphones on, and I always want to know what you're listening to. Sometimes I wish you would turn and look at me, too.