mixtape (reddie)

Chapter 56

The wind trembles around him, blowing flurries of snow off of the drifting banks plowed off to the sides of the roads.

He doesn't want to be here. He really doesn't. Richie nearly threw up as he snuck out of the house through the backdoor, sliding on the ice that's frozen over the pathway around front. He panicked the whole way here, and now he continues to panic, just more quietly.

He burrows himself deeper into his coat, hiding his nose behind the scarf that Eddie left in his room. He doesn't want to be here, yet he is.

"Is your watch broken?" Beverly's voice drifts through the wind, more delicate than the snowflakes frosting against Richie's cracked lenses.

Richie looks up and sees her sitting there, crumpled up against the curb like a used napkin. She's hardly dressed for the weather, but that's Beverly for you. The girl will look fashionable even if it costs her frostbite.

A wave of deja vu washes over him, the feeling of familiarity surrounding him like a warm beach during the summer. There's no sun, though. No sun, no shore, no sand, just Beverly and the blistering cold they're bearing through right now.

Richie just shrugs. He doesn't have a snarky comeback, no classic one-liner to come out of the trashmouth, he just shrugs and stares at the slush pushed up against the curb that's turned black beneath all the tires it's been under.

"Come on, let's get inside," Beverly reaches out to touch his arm, but Richie takes a cautious step back just out of reach. She looks at him for a moment, hurt and betrayed, but then swallows her grief and leads the way in towards the gas station.

Richie doesn't pick up any snacks or drinks, he stands behind her with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on the ground. It's easy to be quiet, he's had years of practicing being invisible to know exactly how to go about unnoticed. She offers him some of his favorite candies, but he shakes his head each time.

The two sit down at their familiar table in the laundromat, the sounds of dryers rotating clothes and fluorescent lights humming almost seem to swallow up all the silence, but then Beverly starts unwrapping a candy bar that seems deafening in comparison to the lack of noise around them.

"You seem happier," she says after a long while.

Richie nods, looking up towards the ceiling tiles. There's a brown, mysterious stain leaking through them, and part of him always wonders if it's blood. "I am," he says. "Didn't think I ever would be, but yeah, I am."

"That's good, I'm glad," she says in the way that sounds like she's not very glad at all. It's hard to be happy for other people when you're miserable, and Richie understands that.

"And you?" He asks, finally meeting her eye. She has these deep, crystallized ocean blue eyes. He thinks all that water is finally catching up to her, because he can see her drowning beneath the foam of the sea.

"I've been better," she laughs, a hint of sarcasm edging along her words.

Richie nods in agreement because, yeah, she has been better. Or has she? Has she always been this way and he was just too blinded to notice? Too desperate to care? Richie used to make up a lot of excuses for Henry's behavior when they were kids too, just because Henry was his only friend and he didn't want to be alone. Did Richie make up excuses for Bev just so he wouldn't be alone?

Now, he's not alone. He's not. He's got a brother, a true love, and all the best friends he could ask for. There's no need for Beverly's mind games anymore, yet he's still here giving her a second chance.

"I didn't want for any of it to happen," Beverly sighs out. "My dad. I didn't want that. I didn't want him to touch me, and I didn't want to be scared, and I didn't want to be hurt, and I didn't want to hurt him. I didn't want to. I still don't. I have- It keeps me up at night, I can hardly sleep. All I see is him on the floor, just... just.... bleeding."