You guys I come back from the dead!! I'm hella stressed rn :)))) Also I'm super into this guy but I don't even talk to him ahgskjddj woe is me
You were so, so tired. That's all you could really say about yourself this Friday afternoon, and you were begging the clock to go faster so you could leave school and go home and take a nap. It didn't help that history was quite possibly the most boring class you had to take, and your old ass teacher was putting you to sleep.
None of your friends from the Loser's Club were in this class either, which made it all the more worse. Richie was in the classroom a little ways down the hall, taking geometry, and you wished you were in there with him. The two of you had been flirting back and forth for months now, to the point where Eddie was yelling at you to just admit your feelings to him so the incessant nonsense would stop. You were trying to muster up the courage to do so, because some part of you deep inside felt like he didn't actually like you.
The bell rang, and you sluggishly pulled yourself up out of your seat and gathered your books, ending up being the last one out of the classroom. By the time you made it out into the hallway, only a handful of students remained, gathering their stuff. Sighing, you started down the hallway, thinking maybe Richie was still here and you could walk out together.
As you neared Richie's classroom, a loud, feminine laugh echoed out of it. The next sounds that followed was the all-too-familiar voice of the one and only Richie Tozier. Squinting your eyes in confusion, you made your way further down the hallway, toward the classroom.
Coming up to the door, you saw a sight you never wanted to see. Richie was sitting on a desk in the otherwise empty classroom, laughing wholeheartedly with Greta Bowie. She was standing close to him, too close, smiling and touching his shoulders and batting her stupid eyelashes. You could easily see the blush spreading across his freckled cheeks.
Tears involuntarily welled up in your eyes, and you turned away, wiping your face angrily and storming down the hallway. Once you made it outside, you grabbed your bike and walked it out front, wanting nothing more than to just get home. Unfortunately, Bill, Stan, and Eddie were already outside, and saw you before you could make your escape.
"(Y/N), Hey! Where're you going so fast?" Eddie called out, and you looked at the trio of boys. When they saw your blotchy face and red-rimmed eyes, they all grew increasingly concerned. Stan took the initiative and rushed towards you, coming to a stop about a foot away.
"What happened?" Stan asked, eyebrows furrowed. By this time, the other two boys had made their way over to you as well.
"Why don't you ask Richie and his asshole of a new girlfriend," you spat out, brushing past them and mounting your bike, leaving the three of them very confused in your wake.
Hours later, you were sitting on your couch in your empty house, throwing yourself a pity party. You were dressed in your pajamas, eating your heart out in ice-cream and sulking with some old records on. You really thought he liked you; you had even started to plan on letting him know how you felt sometime soon. Good thing you didn't, though, because apparently he did not reciprocate your feelings.
Your sulking was interrupted by a knock at the door, and you sighed, putting the pint of ice-cream on the coffee table, and making your way to the front door. Opening it, you revealed a disheartened looking Richie standing on your front steps. Rolling your eyes, you made a move to close the door again, but he stopped it with his hand.
"Wait, please! (y/n), the boys told me that you're mad at me and I'm not leaving until you tell me why," Richie stated, folding his arms across his chest and leaning on your doorframe. You didn't answer, you walked away from the front door, and back into the living room. Richie followed you in, closing the door behind him.
"You can't ignore me forever, you know," Richie stated, walking into the living room. Giving him a pointed look, you replied, "watch me."
"Okay, well, you better like having a new roommate, because like i said, I'm not going until you give me an explanation," Richie said, plopping down on the couch beside you.
"Why don't you go hang out with Greta? You two seemed awfully cozy after school today," you commented offhandedly, not daring to look at him.
"Is that what this is about?" Richie asked, and after a moment, you nodded meekly, still not looking at him.
"You know I don't like her, right?" Richie asked after a second, staring straight at you. You dared yourself to look at him, and when you did, you saw the sadness in his eyes. You stayed silent though, your eyes prompting him to continue to explain. "I was getting my stuff ready to go home and she just started, like, trying to flirt with me or something. I promise you I don't like her. She was probably just flirting with me to get something from me."
"Okay, I believe you," you relented after a minute, knowing that what he said was completely truthful from the tone of his voice.
"Oh, thank god," he said, and you giggled a bit. Suddenly, he got completely serious, "I like you, actually."
"You know, I kinda figured. I like you, too," you giggled, and Richie rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. In an instant, he had grabbed your cheeks and pulled you in, smashing his lips to yours. He was sloppy and you could bet he had zero experience, but still, butterflies erupted in your stomach. After months of merciless teasing, you finally were kissing the idiot you liked. And nothing- not even Greta Bowie- could ruin this moment for you.
