homesick | reddie

chapter three: the school hallway

• richie tozier's point of view •

"hello, sweet cheeks... and who's this?" henry says, glancing over at eddie.

"this is- um... eddie." i say, forcing a smile. eddie looks at me, confused, and then back at henry. i try to keep from looking at henry yet i can't help but notice his face. it looks as though his blood is boiling hot.

"well, eddie, this is where i continue my daily routine of shoving my tongue down my baby's throat." he says, with a smirk, and a gesture hinting for eddie to leave. eddie glares at him for a moment before speaking.

"excuse you, i can go wherever i want, whenever i want, bowers." he replies, crossing his arms and cocking an eyebrow at henry.

henry stands still for a moment, then, quickly grabs me by the collar of my t-shirt and slams my body against the lockers, pressing his sharp, chapped lips against mine. i shut my eyes and my body becomes as stiff as cardboard. i can feel eddie's eyes on me, burning in fury. henry pulls away and loosens his grip.

he turns to eddie with a smirk. "will you leave, now?"

"are you fucking serious? can't you see how much he hates you? your presence makes him act like a fucking concrete wall. a-" henry cuts him off.

"why don't you mind your own damn business? richie loves me, not you. get over it, fag." henry shoves eddie, storming off. i exhale, throwing my arms around him. i feel his arms slowly wrap around me as i realize what i'm doing. i pull away and apologize. he just smiles in return, the second bell ringing.

"shit, you're late." i say, feeling bad for keeping him from going to class.

"it's alright. i'm glad i was here to stop that... whatever it was. i'll see you at lunch, rich." he replies, waving as he walks away.

i wave back and turn around, going to class. it was pretty boring and uneventful. we learned about electrolytes and how they help with breaking things down... dumb. when the bell rang, i met up with stan in the hallway. we have the same second period, english.

"hey, richie." he says, with a smile.

"hi, stan." i respond, rubbing my shoulder in pain.

stan gives a concerned look, "what did he do?"

i sigh, "he pushed me up against the lockers really hard."

his face goes from concerned to livid. "where is he?"

"i- i don't know..." i lie. i don't want to see stan on one of the many 'missing' posters in derry.

"richie, i know that you know where h-" i cut him off.

"please, just forget about it. it's fine, i'm fine." i say, frustrated, and speeding up my walking pace. when i reach our english class, i find myself in relief. i go to my seat in the front of the classroom, next to the window. i love this class, this seat, this window. everyday i gaze outside of it at the oak tree on the other side of it. i find it so intriguing that a different animal makes it their new home every season.

stan walks in with his hands in his hoodie pocket and his head aimed at the floor. he sits in the back, as he always does, and puts his earbuds in. i begin to feel bad for how i reacted, i just don't want him getting hurt because of my problems. the second bell rings, signaling everyone else in the classroom to quiet down. our teacher, mrs. denbrough, walks up to the whiteboard.

"hi, class. how is everyone doing today?" she asks, cheerily.

there's silence from the class. i give her a thumbs up and she smiles in return.

"i'd like to introduce my son, bill. he just transferred into this class. you may know him from middle school, elementary, or even preschool. come on up, dear."

a tall, scrawny boy with fluffy brown hair parted to one side stands up and walks to the front of the class.

"huh-huh-huh-hi. muh-muh-my nuh-nuh-na-..." he cut himself off as his face turned crimson red. he turns back around, and walks to his seat in the back. the whole class is holding in their laughs, except stan and i. i turn around and glare at them all.

"CAN ALL OF YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP?!" stan yells at the top of his lungs. i guess his livid feeling from earlier never went away.

"mr. uris, i appreciate the concern but please, quiet down." she says, in a calm voice. stan rolls his eyes and pulls his hood over his head. "now for the rest of you..." the entire room goes dead silent. "... lunch detention, today and tomorrow." she finishes with a grin.

the class erupts with loud groans. i glance back at bill, he's biting his lip and picking at the dead skin surrounding the nails on his skinny, boney fingers. i can't help but notice stan's looks toward the boy. he glances to mrs. denbrough, and then quickly back to bill. i turn back around, attempting to mind my own business.

mrs. denbrough gives us a poetry assignment. we have to write something to do with nature, "since earth day is around the corner," she explained. "i already know what i'm going to write about," i whisper to myself, glancing over at the oak tree. mrs. denbrough goes around the class, handing out sheets of notebook paper. she stops at bill's desk, bending over, and kissing his forehead. she whispers something in his ear and hands him a sheet of paper. bill stands up, with his things, and moves a seat over, next to stanely. they start a conversation, i see stan slowly calming down.

i turn around and begin my poem. after a stanza or so into it, the bell rings. i stand up and grab my things. i turn around and take a step in the direction i hoped stan would be. instead, he's walking out of the classroom with bill. i see them laughing and smiling, stan now having his hood down and earbuds away. i follow them out and walk to third period, which went by fast, along with fourth.

finally, it's lunch time. i rush over to stan's locker, where we usually meet. i see him standing there with the biggest smile on his face, as he put in his locker combination.

"so... what happened?" i ask, his contagious smile now taking over my face.

"nothing," he says, his smile growing larger. "oh! and, bill will be joining us for lunch today."

"bill...?" am i supposed to remember this name?

he squints his eyes at me. "bill. denbrough."

"OH!" i exclaim, realizing my idiocy.

he rolls his eyes as he turns back to his locker and takes his lunchbox out. he hands it to me, biting his lip.

"i'm sorry, rich. i told my mom not to put mayonnaise but she did it anyways." he shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head.

"stan, it's food. i don't care." i respond, taking my backpack off and dumping the contents of his tin led zeppelin lunchbox into it.

"you're right. mike usually throws a fit if something isn't how he wants it to be. it's refreshing to be reminded not everyone is perfect."

i stand up and sling the bag over my shoulder, handing the lunchbox back to him. "you're welcome?"

he just chuckles and puts it back into the locker. we begin walking down the long, deserted hallway that leads to the courtyard. on the way there, we have a lovely conversation about human reproduction. in other parts of the school, the conversations are not so nice.