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Once all of the boys had left after their discussion about Neibolt Street and Pennywise, Michael sat in the basement on the couch in silence. His eyes focusing on the basement door as he fiddled with his hands. It was almost eight-ten, about five minutes before the estimated time when she would come.
He wondered why she would want to escape from her father. The first thing that came into Michael's head was that she was abused, but the last time he had seen her. She didn't seem to look like she was, though he had never met someone who was abused by their parents, nor had been abused himself. His mind was swirling with the possibilities of why she would leave.
As he was thinking, he didn't hear the footsteps that were walking down the stairs. Michael checked his watch, seeing that he had two minutes left. "Hey Wheeler, whatcha doing there?" Richie asked in an Italian, 1920's voice, but his voice could still he heard as he spoke. Michael jumped at the voice, whipping his head towards Richie.
Richie was leaning on the ledge, his fingers laced with a burning cigarette that looked like was just burned. He placed the cigarette on his lips, breathing in the burning drug before sighing in relief. Michael began to feel his mind fill with anger.
"Richie, what the hell are you doing here?" He stood up, walking towards the boy in fury. Richie could not be here to ruin the moment.
"Well, I was wondering why you wanted us to leave," Richie explained, his hand moving in gestures as some of the ashes of his cigarette fell on the carpet. "I also had the urge to smoke,"
"In my house?!" Michael angrily exclaimed, grabbing Richie's cigarette in fury. "Don't you have some kind of decency around here?" He muttered.
"Hey, it's my cigarette," Richie replied with a chuckle. "And what are you doing here anyways?" Richie's smile turned into a smirk that made Michael's cheeks went red with panic.
"Nothing," Michael said quickly, looking at the fort while he spoke. "I was just thinking," His hands began to fumble with the burning cigarette that was held in his hand.
Richie smiled widely at this, grabbing his cigarette back from Michael's hands. "You're lying, Mr. Wheeler," He replied, taking another smoke. "You're definitely waiting for someone,"
"What? No-" Michael was going to refuse Richie's theory, but there was a knock on the door. It was soft, but it was loud enough for the boys to hear.
"Then who was that?" Richie asked quietly, his smile now exploding with the happiness and truth that Michael was now caught.
Michael did not know what to do. He was now caught between if Richie should find the truth or if he should just leave the girl. His mouth was open, but no words came out, not knowing what to say to Richie. There was another knock that rang out from the basement door, echoing throughout the basement.
"Aren't you going to answer it?" Richie replied, taking another smoke while he leaned on the railing of the basement stairs.
Michael glared at him, his expression filled with frustration that only his friends and family (and Richie) had only seen in the young boy if he was pissed at someone. He walked towards the door, letting out a deep breath as he slowly unlocked the door. His fingers gently going to the knob as his hands sweated in anxiousness. He grabbed the door knob, turning it before slowly opening it to reveal her.
