. . . Sorry // Richie x Reader

1

It was your first day of seventh grade. As you woke up you immediately got out of bed instead of just laying there like how you usually do and took a shower. Carefully blow-drying your hair after, you thought about what you were going to wear.

Baby pink tank top, blue jean shorts, and black converse, or a comfy tee, blue jean pants, and your red nikes? Walking to your room after blow-drying your hair, you decided on the tank top outfit. You put it on as fast as you could, looked in your mirror and brushed your hair.

"Bye, mom." You yelled before walking out the door; since you only lived a block away from school, you walked to and from, except on bad weather days when your mom took you and picked you up.

_

You walked up to the bike racks to see your crush, Richie Tozier, laughing with his own little club of friends (The Losers' Club) about who-knows-what. You cleared your throat so he would look at you, smiled, and waved, "Hey, Richie."

He looked you up and down and whispered something to his friend Jaeden, making them both laugh, "Hey, (Y/N), " Richie began. You smiled, "Why are you wearing a tank top on the first day of school, you little slut?"

Richie high-fived Jaeden and they laughed some more, along with the rest of the Losers' Club. "Well. . . I didn't know that-", "You don't know anything," Richie interrupted. "Tomorrow, wear something that suits you more, like a baggy hoodie or something so we can't tell that your fat." He poked your stomach, making you flinch.

You nodded as they laughed and walked off. You just stood there, half hurt and half happy. The only two reasons while you where happy, though, was because:

1. He talked to you (But he said mean things, that was why you were hurt)

2. He poked you in the stomach (Even though he called you fat along with it)

So, you walked into the school knowing that he could of done worse;

Last year in sixth grade he made fun of you because your dad had died from lung cancer. Everyday, he would push you down or into a locker and say 'your father isn't here to help you, even if he was he wouldn't care.' or, 'go blow your dad- oh, wait, you can't! too bad for you, you probably wanted to, you needy slut.'

But he didn't do any of that just now.