Do Not Fucking Touch Me // Reddie

Fifty Six

PART TWO: HIGH SCHOOL

(Eddie's POV)

In the movies, high school seems like a popular person's heaven. Being loved is what makes life worth living. When everyone loves you, it seems so easy. When you're attractive, things are even easier. 

When you're a loser, life isn't that easy. Nothing is. You get picked on. The lack of love in your life, being replaced day after day with hate, turns you into a pit of dispair. A big black pit in your head takes over, sucks every negative thing in until there's no positivity left. All is lost. You are alone.

Unless, of course, you are lucky. Being a loser is only tolerable if you find another loser to be with. Richie was that for me. He wore his glasses again. We mutually decided they looked weird and were way too big for his face frame. He went to the eye doctor with his mom and ended up with some glasses that fit him a little better. He was sick of wearing the contacts anyway.

Everyone deserves to reinvent themselves the way that they see fitting. This was his way. He begun to wear button down shirts and nice pants. He looked really good, if I'm being honest. He would put something in his hair too, to make the curls accentuated. I would tease him for it, a little. He deserved it after all of the teasing he put me through before we were dating. It was never to be taken seriously. I cut my hair shorter. I was sick of taking care of it and brushing it out of my face. We looked so different now, but inside we were the same.

Still losers. Still Eddie and Richie. Still together. 

The first day we didn't see each other until second period. It was fine, we needed to go our separate ways and focus on school. It was high school. It mattered more. Grades mattered more, paying attention mattered more, all of that. I couldn't focus when I was with Richie. I couldn't help it. 

My first class was drivers ed. That terrified me. I couldn't believe I was almost old enough to drive. By the end of the semester, I'd have my learner's permit. I could drive, with my uncle in the passenger seat telling me what to do of course. Richie was older than me, so he would be able to drive first. I wondered which one of us would get a car first. I didn't have much money in the family, so it would probably be him. Knowing his father, it would hardly run and would at least be ten years older than Richie at the time of purchasing it. He would pick me up for dates in the garbage piece of car when he turned sixteen and finally got his license. 

That was in the future. I needed to focus on the now. I sat in the back. I wasn't exactly the social butterfly that my boyfriend was. He would easily be in his class right now, making friends with everyone around him. Not me. I sat isolated in the back, clutching to my backpack for dear life. Even though I knew I wasn't at threat, that everything was going to be okay and it was just a dumb class full of kids who didn't give a fuck about me, I was scared.

A boy with brown hair sat in front of me. I was about to tap on his shoulder and introduce himself, but a short haired girl sat across from him and they apparently knew each other, because they started talking immediately. One by one, the seats in the classroom filled. All these kids were bigger than me, more attractive than me, more popular than me.

I was alone. Yet again. The seats on the opposite side of the room were the only ones left. Stan waltzed in, right as the bell rung. He had changed a little. He joined the soccer team. Apparently Lucy wanted him to try. I knew he wasn't really that into sports, but if it were to impress a girl, he would. 

I smiled at him, but he didn't see. He just sat down. The quiet grew as the teacher stepped into the room behind him. Suddenly, the conversations stopped.

The teacher was a big man with greying brown hair. He was wearing a flannel and jeans, very unusual to see a teacher wearing. He seemed very unprofessional. The trademark piece of his outfit, however, was a pair of camouflage Crocs.