my boy! ( reddie. )

EIGHT: JEALOUSLY IS THE MONSTER IN ALL PEOPLE

❛ RECAP ❜

    "Because," Richie said in a sing song voice, "You hate her Eds! You little spitfire, bountiful ball of rage. She's been taking your Richie time, of course! Don't worry, there's enough to go round..."

     Eddie rolled his eyes, ignoring the budding beads of sweat in his palms. "Yeah right, you egotistical oaf."

    "Ooh! Eds gets off a good one!"

     "Shut up. I've go to go now." Eddie stood up, wiping his palms on his track pants, awkwardly facing Richie's sitting figure.

     Richie scrambled up when he saw Eddie turn. He smushed the smaller boys face between his hands to plant a big, wet kiss on his cheek. "Goodbye, Edsikins."

     Leaving Eddie in shock, Richie proceeded to dawdle back to his room, humming what sounded like hooked on a feeling under his breath. Eddies grumbles sounded throughout the house.

    "Fucking—stupid ass, dumb ass, Tozier bitch..."

     The faint tinge of pink splattering his cheeks spoke differently.

SUNDAY 7th OCTOBER, 1993
11:05 PM — Eddie Kaspbrak's bedroom

     EDDIE PACED VIGOROUSLY across the length of his bedroom. He threaded his hands anxiously through his already frazzled curls, an apparent sense of distress wafting from him. School tomorrow. He would see Richie tomorrow. Yes, it may have been a bit middle school to avoid Richie's phone calls—but Eddie had reason!

      He couldn't stop thinking about what Richie had said, that he was jealous. . .of Heather?!

     But then he winced, remembering the brutal comments he had made to the girl that he didn't even know. Of course, he was probably too harsh. Eddie knew that, it was just how he was—what, with everyone thinking it was their place to call him names and shove him around, Eddie supposed he had become standoffish.

     Maybe Richie was right.

     "Wait—no, I can't believe I just thought that." Eddie groaned. He'd never be able to live that down.

     He stopped pacing, releasing the concrete clutch he had on his hair, falling back onto his bed. His white comforter billowed around him, encasing Eddie in a cocoon of warmth and fresh laundry detergent. Out from underneath the pillow, a thin notebook snuck out, Eddie's neat calligraphy detailing the front.

Eddie Kaspbrak's Diary: DO NOT TOUCH!

So original, Eds! Richie would've piped. That is, of course, meaning Eddie would've shown it to Richie, which he had not.