𝔸 ℝ𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝔹𝕪 𝔸𝕟𝕪 𝕆𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣 ℕ𝕒𝕞𝕖 - reddie

＃𝟙: 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝔻𝕠𝕟'𝕥 ℍ𝕒𝕥𝕖 𝕄𝕖 𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕄𝕦𝕔𝕙, 𝔻𝕠 𝕐𝕠𝕦?

Well Jesus Christ, how long does it take to travel from Austria to fucking Maine?

Alright, so being desperate was an understatement. But the great trashmouth doesn't get desperate. At least, I don't when he's not around. And that was the problem. He wasn't around.

Eddie had gone on this dumb trip with his mom, and he'd been gone for a year. But what dipshit was counting, right? Screw it. I was counting. Every second of every minute of every day.

The trip wasn't that dumb, I'll cut him some slack. It was actually a really cool state trip, and I would've bought a ticket to go if Mrs. K could stand being in a room with me for more than five minutes. It was only dumb because Eddie had to go away.  For 365 days. 12 months. 52 weeks. 525,600 minutes. 3.154e7 seconds. Too fucking long.

I'd been waiting to meet him at the train station to pick him up ever since he even left. No one could tell, and I'd never verbalize it, but it was true; I missed him way too much when he went places. I'm a softy, I know. But I feel the same seasonal depression you'd feel in December after Eddie goes back to his place after school.

I dug my hands into my pockets. It was cold, even in January. I was staring at my feet, and my miss-matched purple and green laces, which seemed to be the brightest thing on me in the moment. Which, was a surprise, considering my closet consisted of floral button ups that middle-aged dads would wear on vacation. 

I was so focused on the small details in my laces that I didn't even notice that Bill, Beverly, and Mike traipsed up behind me.

"Someone got here early,"  Bev mentioned, placing her elbow over my shoulder and leaning her entire weight on me, as if her ankle was sprained.

I knew what she was hinting toward, and I knew I could top her with a Richie Tozier crackback special. "What's the matter, darlin, do your legs still hurt from last night's sleepover at Bill's?"

This sprung an embarrassed look from Beverly and an even more embarrassed look from Bill. Mike simply scoffed. That's how he usually laughed. 

"You know damn well I was at church yesterday, Trashmouth," she said, quickly easing back onto the balls of her own feet and pushing me forward a bit with both forceful hands.

I put on a fake expression of shock and glanced at Bill. "That just makes it twice as naughty."

Bill mumbled something under his breath, and I was certain it was F-fuck off, R-R-Richie, but it's always hard to tell when he was being extra quiet, AND had a stutter to add on. 

Mike knew that if he didn't intervene, awkward silence would take over. "When's Eddie's train due?"

"Four minutes. Emergency C-section. Nurses say it's a boy," I said smartly and plainly, as if to cover up the fact that I hopped up too quickly and glanced off at the tracks when Eddie's name was mentioned.

"You're c-c-crazy-" Bill paused in the middle of his sentence, his mouth left open like a mahogany doll with rusty brass hinges. I could tell a stutter was coming on. Anyone who might have been listening in could. "-T-t-tozier."

I pretended to bow, or fake curtesy, or something like that. "Muchas gracias, señor." 

And believe me, that was the only Spanish I did know; I don't pay attention in class otherwise.

I noticed Beverly open her mouth out of the corner of my eye, and I glanced up with a cocky expression, ready to retort in case she had something smart to say. She was interrupted however, by the loud bellowing of the train whistle rattling around the bend of the train track.