Lucky 13

Wentworth

Richies family was never violent. They're mean, and they're loud, and they throw things and break things. But they never hit. That makes it bearable, but still hard. When he went in the house, he locked the door so that nobody could come in when things got loud. He was walking up the stairs when his father noticed him.

"Where the hell have you been?" Wentworth asked from the bottom of the stairs. He was quiet but he wouldn't stay this way.

"With Stan."

"Really? You sure you weren't out fucking that Marsh girl?" He was yelling now. Richie ran back down the stairs, shoving his father a little bit.

"Don't fucking talk about her like that! God, you drunk fucking ass." Richie yelled while walking up the stairs again.

"Don't speak to me like that, boy! You don't do shit around this god damn house and think you can leave for a day and talk back to your father? Your annoying ass has got another thing comin!"

Richie yelled from his room, "Can you shut the fuck up for once? Maybe if you weren't such a dick I would stay here more!"

"We're good to you in this house! We don't ignore you like them Denbroughs do their stuttering little shit, and you aren't dead like their other brat. And we don't shove drugs down your throat like Sonia Kaspbrack does to her kid. And we didn't set our fucking house on fire like them Hanlons did. Miracle they didn't fucking die. So get your ass down here and be grateful for what you've got." Wentworth threw a bottle at the ground, shattering it. Richie hadn't noticed he had a bottle.

Coming down the stairs again, Richie yelled, "I told you not to talk about them like that!"

"I'm trying to show you how fucking lucky you are compared to the people you hang out with!"

"Well you sure aren't the picture of fucking perfection!" Richie shoved his father again. He had on new pants, but no shirt because he wanted out as quick as possible. His new shirt was balled up in his hand, his bag on his shoulders. "Your fucking wife is blackout drunk on the couch at one in the fucking afternoon!"

"That is your mother, you ungrateful brat. We don't provide for you just so you can go off and spend time at a fucking synagogue!"

"Oh, so you believe it was Stan now?" Richie yelled moving for the door.

"Get your ass back in this house and clean this shit up!" Wentworth yelled as Richie walked out. All Richie did was flip him off. He was still yelling from inside the house at Richie. "I know you're goin to hang out with those fucking losers! You better come back tonight, you annoying pice of shit!"

The losers, Will and Max looked sad but unsurprised, the same couldn't be said for the party. They were shocked and weren't hiding it, staring at Richie. "Jesus fuck. You lot look like you've seen a ghost." Richie said in his British accent. He walked off the porch and the others followed.

"Rich, give me your bag and put your shirt on. Don't want you getting sick." Eddie said, taking the bag.

Richie shrugged on his shirt and said, "I'm not gonna get sick, Ed's. It's summer."

"Why was he yelling like that?" Mike asked. The losers looked at him weirdly.

"Oh yknow, old Went couldn't argue with Maggie so he needed me. Also I didn't go home last night." Richie moved over to Beverly and put his arm around her waist as they walked. "I'm sorry, Bev. He shouldn't have said that." He whispered.

"It's fine, Rich. You can't control what he says." She whispered back.

"No it wasn't. I could feel it wasn't, don't try that shit with me, Mrs. Ringwald." The two of them laughed. "I still want to apologize to Mikey and Billiam and Ed's. What he said hurt them, too." He kissed her forehead and moved away, the party eyeing the back of his head. They were curious as to who Beverly was dating, but didn't want to outright ask.