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THURSDAY 4th OCTOBER, 1993 3:12 PM — Derry High School car park
"HEY EDDIO," Richie shouted across the main car park, forcing Eddie to stubbornly turn around, trying to avoid drawing attention to himself. "Wanna go to the arcade?"
Despite the fact that Richie matured in looks, and without his geeky glasses may not look like a caricature nerd, it was ingrained; heart and soul. He had spent at least half his summer in Hawkins at the local arcade; thumbs forever stuck in awkward positions, eyes glued to a pixelated screen, and the wafting smell of competitive sweat mixed with raspberry slushies lingered on him the whole time.
Richie strolled casually towards his best friend and relaxed against the bike rack which Eddie stood by.
"So — so! Whaddya' say, Ed–day!"
Eddie frowned and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, a nervous habit he picked up when trying to decrease his inhaler use.
"It's like you don't even know her," He said worried about his still, overprotective mother. Eddie may have been sixteen, and not the little runt of a boy he was — well, physically yes he was, but mentally he had developed — but his mother still insisted on strict bed times, curfews and completely overbearing Eddie.
"Oh, come on! Mrs K and I are very — " Eddie thrust his hand in front of Richie's face, a signal for him to stop talking.
"I swear," Eddie gulped with overtly exaggerated rolled eyes, "if you make a one more joke about mommy, we will not be friends anymore."
Richie fake gasped, grasping onto the handles of Eddie's bicycle to lean closely into his face, trapping Eddie from being able to remove it from the rack. "You couldn't do that to me Eds," Eddie could feel Richie's peppermint bubblegum slapping his cheeks, "you love me too much!"
It was true, Eddie couldn't think of life without his best friend — his partner in crime, his bad influence, his Richard Tozier.
"I think you mean, I hate you — "
"Is that a yes then?" Richie's lips quirked up into a smirk, his eyebrow cocked in a teasing manner. When it came to Eddie, Richie always knew which buttons to push, and now he was as gleeful as a cat who got the cream.
Eddie groaned in defeat as he tugged his bike out of Richie's and slung one leg over the seat, which only suppressed a devilish grin out of Richie. "You better have change — mommy will know if I use mine."
As if he was a sports pro, Richie used a running head start to get his bike propelling forward, before he leaped onto the moving object. His legs clicked into place, adjusted correctly to fit the pedals, and he threw his head back to call out to Eddie, "Of course! Now bust a move, buster, times a wastin'!"
