Look What I Found!

Ch. 10

The following day was tense between the Losers and Mikey. Mikey came, got his food, and headed back to his room. No words were spoken. Beverly and Richie tried, but Mikey acted like he didn't even hear them.

In his room, Mike wasn't even eating. He had all of his stuff scattered around and his backpack beside him. He picked up the new clothes they bought him and chucked what could fit in his bag. They bought him a few personal items, like a notebook and a sketchbook (he wasn't ever going to use it, but it reminded him of Will). He had a few cool-looking rings he thought looked good on him, a Polaroid camera (he was a bit old school, sue him), and even a few DnD items. Who he'd play with, he didn't know.

But as he put the notebook, sketchbook, and DnD items in his bag, his hand hit something hard, and he pulled out his walkie-talkie. He'd been talking into it almost every night, pretending the others were listening. He even talked to Max a few times.

He closed his eyes and pressed the button, bringing it to his lips; He started talking. "El? Will? I'm really sorry. I know I fucked up, and I don't know if something will happen to me or if I'll be brought back. I just want to get it out that I'm sorry; Practice a bit, I suppose. I hope you don't hate me. I hope we're... I don't want to lose either of you-both of you! I love you guys so much..."

A knock interrupted him, and he threw his walkie-talkie into his bag. His door opened, and in walked Richie. He looked around the room, and his face fell to regret. Mike was sitting crisscrossed; half of his clothes were scattered along the bed and floor, and the other half was thrown into his bag. Some items were left in a pile in front of him while he clutched his bag to his chest, eyes wide open.

"Plan on going on a trip, Mike?" Richie joked, but there was no laughter in his voice.

Mike shrugged, "no."

Richie's eyebrows drew up, "you sure?"

Mike glanced around and placed his bag down beside him. "I'm not."

Richie nodded his head and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'm sorry." It wasn't the best start, and they both knew it wouldn't fix anything, but it was a start.

Mike didn't even look up at him. He just nodded his head.

"Really, Mike."

"It's fine. Now can you leave?"

Richie looked distraught at the prospect but nodded his head. He slowly turned, placing his hand on the knob as he looked back at Mike. "I meant it when I said you could stay for as long as you want. I meant that, Mike. This is my place, not theirs. They want what's best for you, and I do too, but I meant it."

A huff leaves him, and Mike looks up, "you think I'm going to believe that? All you did was make me think I could trust you. But you lied. You all did."

Richie shook his head, turning back into the room, "we didn't lie. I didn't lie to you."

Mike ignored him. Getting up from the floor, he shoved his bag under the bed. He grabbed the rest of the things off the bed and pushed them into random drawers.

"Doesn't matter."

"It does matter."

"It doesn't!" His voice cracked, and he turned entirely away from Richie. Taking a few deep breaths, he continued, "I'm just some runaway you found, and now you want to do the 'responsible' thing and help? Yea, right! Maybe boost your fame or something. I should have known."

"Mike, I-"

"Just leave me alone."

Richie shut his mouth for once and nodded. He turns out the door, "I hope I'll see you for dinner."