mixtape (reddie)

Chapter 41

Richie stands in front of the mirror in discomfort, shifting his thighs around to feel less uncomfortable in the new jeans he's wearing. Sharon held up her promise on buying the boys new clothes, and now Richie has a closet full of clothing articles that he never thought he'd have the money to buy. He tried to convince Mrs. Denbrough that she didn't have to go through so much trouble, but she simply explained that if he was going to be living beneath their roof, he would have to accept that they would be treating him as one of their own. She thinks it's just simply unacceptable that Richie was still wearing jeans that were bought four growth spurts ago.

But these jeans are stiff, they're new, and they're itchy. They don't have any holes in the knees, and they make Richie's ankles look swollen.

There's a knock on the door, followed by Bill's voice "Hey, Rich? You ready to go?"

"Uhh," Richie trails off, his face squished with discomfort. The backpack hangs off of his shoulders, empty and waiting to be filled with textbooks. He's nervous about the curriculum, what if it's different than what he was learning in Pennsylvania? What if he doesn't understand? What if he fails, and gets held back another year?

The door opens just a bit, and Bill pokes his head in to see what the hold up is. When he sees Richie awkwardly standing in the center of the room, he lets out a little chuckle and enters all the way.

"C'mon, doofus. Bev's outside," Bill chuckles.

"Um," Richie mumbles, looking down towards the floor. He's got new shoes, converse that aren't dirty. They're new and shiny, and they kind of hurt his feet. But not in the way his old ones did. These ones actually fit. Richie looks back up at Bill, and he simply points downwards.

"What, your shoes? Your shoes are fine, man," Bill shrugs.

Richie shakes his head, patting the side of his legs to indicate he's referring to his jeans. Then, he points to his ankles again, looking at Bill desperately.

"Oh," Bill says. He takes a few steps forward, kneeling down on the floor and grabbing Richie by the ankle.

Richie's heart seizes up, fear paralyzing his body as he fights every urge to yank his leg away. He controls his breathing, not letting himself get too worked up over something as simple as Bill pulling his leg forward.

"You just gotta tight roll them like this..." Bill trails off, pinching the sides of Richie's jeans and rolling the cuffs up to trap the fabric against his leg. Once done with that leg, he reaches out for the other leg. Richie slowly lowers his foot, then cautiously lifts his other leg towards Bill outreached hands. "There. Now you're set. You ready, man?"

Richie sits in the backseat of Beverly's beat up car and listens to her and Bill talk about the most ridiculously mundane things. For example, Beverly asks if her shirt is too low cut, for she's afraid that her exposed shoulder might get her dress coded. Richie doesn't think that they realize there are bigger problems, but he's not going to be the one to burst their bubble. He would kill to have such a sheltered state of mind, for his worries to simply be whether they'll get rid of that weird tuna smell in the cafeteria or not. Instead, all Richie got stuck with is low self esteem and trauma. Some self-inflicted, most not.

Bill asks if he needs Richie to walk him to the office, but Richie remembers the layout of the high school well enough. He hasn't stepped foot in it since freshman year, and now he's returning after Christmas break for the last few months of his senior year. He doesn't know if he'll be able to live to walk with his classmates, but he's trying. Jesus Christ is he trying.

"I know where it is," Richie responds, his tender voice being lost in the chatter of students pouring into the building entrance. Richie's senses are heightened as he becomes more and more aware of what's going on around him, the sounds raising to deafening volumes.