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13. Richie's POV

I wake up on my bed covered in my comforter. I stumble to the bathroom and the shoebox that was left there is gone.

I immediately freak out and ransack my entire room to find it. Nowhere to be found, I breathe way faster than I should.

That's the only thing that can make you happy.

I check my underwear drawer to see how much money I have. Two dollars. Frustrated, I let out a harsh grunt and get dressed for school.

Skip. Nobody will notice you.

I remember how the principal threatened me failing if I missed any more days this semester. I shrug my torn leather jacket on and walk out of the door.

The second I get on school properties Bev crashes into me.

"Bev!" I shout unprepared for the collision.

"Rich! I need to talk to you."

"Can't. Gotta go to first period. Teacher's a real bitch." She grabs my wrist, dragging me somewhere. I shout out in the pain she causes on my wrist.

"Shit! I'm sorry." She grabs my hand, interlacing fingers with mine, and leads me. We end up on the side of the school we used to go when we wanted to sneak away from the other Losers.

"Eddie likes you," she declares. I roll my eyes. "Don't give me that attitude. He does."

"He made it abundantly clear that he doesn't," I mutter, crossing my arms.

"We went to your house yesterday," she says. My stomach drops. "You were so high, Rich. Were you even aware that you were about to slit your wrists again?" I pull up my jacket sleeve to see if I did. "Eddie barged in before you could."

Fuck, he saw me naked.

"Uhm..."

"I took the shoebox." Fury rises in me.

"You did what?" I shout.

"Don't you dare get mad at me, Rich, I-"

"Those drugs helped me when you guys wouldn't."

"Cocaine, Rich? That stuff is so addictive!" Tears rush into my eyes against my will.

"I know." She grunts in frustration.

"Are you ever gonna forgive us?" Bev asks.

"Yes. I already did," I say. I'm only half lying.

"Then hang with us again, okay? Please." I contemplate this as I usually do with Bev's strong words.

"Okay," I sigh, and the bell rings for first period. We separate and I walk to first period, sitting at the desk closest to the window so I can stare out of it.

○

Lunch creeps up, and I shrug to the cafeteria, praying that they still sit at the same table. Luckily, they do, and I walk up to it, taking a seat in between Stan and Bev. Everyone except Bev stare at me incredulously.

"R-r-r-richie!" Bill stutters.

"Uhm, h-hey," I say, my voice lines with obvious insecurity. Eddie walks up with a tray of food.

"Oh, R-rich!" Eddie says surprised. He sits down next to Mike and Bill. He intensely stays focused on Bill and Stan for some reason. I sit uncomfortably as everyone eats their sandwiches provided by the lunch ladies.

Loosen up, they forgive you.

"You're not eating?" Stan asks. I shake my head. "Looks like you need it," he mutters, and Bill punches his arm, causing him to wince and continue eating.

"I-it's fine, Bill," I sigh. Bev hands me an orange with a rather pleading look, so I take it and start peeling it.

"S-so, h-h-has Bowers p-picked on you s-since the f-f-fight?" Instinctly, I rub the healing cuts on my knuckles. I look over at Eddie who does the same.

"No." Another series of awkward silence. I take a bite of the orange, the flavor filling the taste buds in my mouth.

Isn't this the first time you've even ate anything since... six days ago?

"Why are you here?" Stan blurts out. I look up from my food, and Bill punches him even harder. "I'm not saying you don't belong, but, why? Why now?" I peer over at Eddie and immediatly focus back to Stan.

"I dunno," I mumble. "Just felt a little lonely." We sit in silence for about five minutes when Ben gloriously speaks up.

"So, Mike, how was practice?" I look over at him.

"Fine," he says, shoving food into his mouth.

"What kind of practice?" I blurt out.

"Basketball," he declares proudly. "You can join if you want, Richie!" I shake my head.

"Nah, wouldn't want to intrude." I stand up to throw my orange peel away, and Eddie gets up with his tray. I walk over to the trash can, trying to avoid his stare.

"Chee, I need to talk to you," he says from behind me. Throwing the peel into the bin, I turn around to face him.

"About what? Thought you weren't gay," I grumble, walking to the doors for a quick smoke. He follows me.

"About yesterday, okay?" I continue walking outside where I open my carton on cigarettes.

"Nothing to talk about," I lie, bringing the lighter up to the cigarette.

"You were so high, Chee." I stop my lighter from lighting it.

"And?"

"You... said some things," he sighs.

"Like?" I ask, hoping I didnt say anything too stupid as I light up the cigarette.

"You said I need to 'get my fucking house back' because my mom is 'a living piece of shit'. And that no matter how hard I push you away, you'll always come back to me." My heart sinks. I wanted to say it to him sober.

"Like you said, I was so high."

"But you believed them. I could tell."

"How could you tell, Ed's? Do you frequently communicate with pieces of shit that like to get stupid stoned?" I yell, my arms flinging out.

"You're not a piece of shit," he whispers.

"Oh, Ed's. You made it abundantly clear that that's a lie." I start to walk off.

"I'll always come back to you." I stop walking and face him. "I said that back." I walk towards him slowly, like I'm prepared for him to attack.

"You did?" He nods.

"I only said what I said to you at bev's house because I was scared of where I was going to live, okay? I had to deny myself so I can have a home again."

See, richie? Stop taking things so personally.

"I'm sorry, Ed's." He walks up to me and hugs me. From our height differences, I tower over him. "Why are you changing your mind now?" His hold still stays, but he looks up into my eyes.

"You kissed me."

Lol this story is like, cliche dramatic
I listen to depressing music writing this so I guess that explains
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