mixtape (reddie)

November 30th, 1988

Richard.

Okay, I'm sitting on Bill's couch right now. He's helping Mrs. Denbrough put the groceries away but when he comes back we're going to go outside and rake up all the leaves in his yard to jump in the pile. I don't like this idea, it seems filthy.

I feel... angry. No, angry isn't the right word. I don't know what I feel.

I stayed the night at Bill's after I left your house. I think I was too scared to go home, or I just needed him to tell me it was okay. He said it on the phone, the phone in your kitchen, but I needed to hear it face to face. So the Denbrough's picked me up from your house, Zack and Sharon made my favorite for dinner, and I tried not to cry in Bill's bedroom later that night when he asked if I'm gay.

I told him yes.

We sat and talked about it for a long time, as well as you and everything that you make me feel. I recounted the letter from Henry and how you said you like me too, and how I didn't believe it. Bill asked if I want to go steady with you, and he asked what exactly it was about you that made me feel this way. He didn't judge me, not once. He didn't look down on me, he didn't laugh, and he certainly didn't call me any names. He nodded and understood, because that's just how Bill is. He always understands us.

So I told him I love the way you laugh, the sound that lights up cathedrals. The way you smile, and how it's like the bend around a river. I told him I like the way you push hair out of your face, and your arm bends at the skinny wrist like a wishbone waiting to snap. I told him about the way you smell, and how you listen to me when I talk. I said you have the kind of atmosphere around you, one that is meant for Eddie Kaspbrak only. I told him about your crude jokes, and how none of them are actually that crude. I told him about the night I slept at your house and showered in the morning, and how the steam wasn't the only thing making me sweat as we shared the bathroom. Oh, and how you shared your clothes with me, and how I have that shirt tucked under my pillow so that I can use it to dry my eyes when I cry on the nights you don't sneak in through my window. I told him about that, too. The late night goodnights. I told Bill about all of these things, these impossibly complex black holes that lead to voids of romance, and he only listened. As I said them, none of them seemed that special after coming to life through my voice. I think the specialness of it all lives solely within my heart, because Bill doesn't melt the way that I do when I talk about how you dance when you cook.

I didn't tell him about the music, though. That seemed too personal, too intimate. Sure, I want Bill to know just about everything, but I don't want him to take the music and run. You made those songs for me, you dedicated a tape to me, and it would be wrong if I were to just invite Bill into those lovely melodies. They're ours, Richie. They always will be.

I was too upset to write about what happened last night, so I'll recall it now; When I showed up at your house, you weren't home. That's fine, you frequently aren't. I sat on the porch and waited like I usually do, but I don't like what I was waiting for. I didn't like it at all.

I should have known when I heard the busted out muffler rattling down the street. I should have known. But I was naive, and I was just excited to see you pulling up in the driveway, so excited that I was blind to who was driving. You weren't as excited, though, you were... uncomfortable. You kept pushing on me and telling me to go inside, but I didn't understand why. Why didn't you want to see me? Was it because of what happened when we were camping? We were just cuddling, Richie, it's not like we fornicated.

But then I saw what you didn't want me to see, and he saw me at the exact same time.

I don't really remember what happened after that, I think I was kicked into high anxiety mode. I'm sure you can imagine how hard it was for me when the person I hate with the person I love most. I freaked out, immediately under the impression that I was going to die, but then it clicked; are you friends with him?