Wrong

•6•

⚠ Mentions of abuse, suicidal thoughts, and self harm, eating disorders ⚠

*Eddie's POV*

"Ok. Bye Richie, see you soon!" I said then hung up the phone.

What do I do, what do I do?! I can barely move after yesterday, but Richie just called and said the Losers made me something.

I took a quick look in the mirror. Holy shit, I look like hell. My face is littered in bruises and cuts. Don't even get me started on my sides and stomach. At least Richie won't be able to see that.

Richie said he'd be here in 20 minutes, which gives me just enough time to stop by the convenience store and get some concealer. I know I'll get weird looks for buying makeup, but I don't care about that right now.

I drove over, trying not to speed down the street. I practically threw my money at the cashier and ran out of the store as soon as I got the concealer.

I had barely smeared it on when I heard Richie knock on the door.

"In a minute!" I said, my voice cracking. Hastily putting on the rest of the makeup, I walked down stairs and opened the door.

Richie handed me a Tupperware filled to the brim with brownies, a huge grin on his face.

"We made these for you, to help you feel better!" he blushed lightly and put them on the counter, then moved over to the living room.

As good as the treats looked, I nearly puked at the thought of actually eating them. I'll just give them to Danny or throw them out. I sighed and walked over to Richie.

"So what's up Spaghetti Head, you feeling better?"

No. I felt like shit. My boyfriend hits me and nobody knows. And I'm suicidal. And I cut. And I'm in love with you.

I mean, a friend love. Like, I love all of the Losers in a different way than I love Danny. A platonic love. Obviously.

"Eds...?" Richie said and grabbed my hand. "You ok there?"

I flinched away from his touch instantly, which resulted in a concerned look from Richie.

"Eddie," he said seriously. "You can tell me anything."

I wanted to tell him what's going on, I really did. I wanted to just wipe off all of the concealer and show him everything. But I couldn't. I just couldn't.

"Yeah Rich, I'm ok. Just thinking about stuff." I lied straight through my teeth.

"Ok..." he said, obviously skeptical. "Wanna watch?" Richie lifted up Beetlejuice and Edward Scissorhands, the two movies we didn't watch at the hospital.

"Yes!" I said grabbing them and slid in Beetlejuice first.

When I got back to the couch, Richie had grabbed the brownies. Shit...

•°•

We were at the dinner party scene, and I hadn't even touched the food. Richie had seen some popcorn in the pantry and grabbed it. He'd eaten some of it and 3 brownies already.

"Don't you want any Eds?"

"No, I'm ok. Thanks."

"Are you sure? There's a lot left!"

"I'm fine!" I snap at him.

"Ok..." Richie said, backing off.

"Rich.. I'm sorry, I'm just not hungry."

*Richie's POV*

Something's up. Eds always has brownies, they're his favorite! That's why we made them, it's because he always eats them.

When I saw him in the hospital, my heart dropped. I love him so much and it hurts me to see him hurting. And he's obviously hurting right now.

But I can't pressure him into telling me either. I don't want him to get mad at me.

Maybe I'll just ask him later in the week, like if he doesn't eat at Friday's Potluck. Yeah, that's what I'll do!

•°•

Change of plans, Eddie isn't coming to the Potluck. He said he got the flu, but I don't believe that for one second. I know Eds, and he's not the type of person that gets sick. He always makes sure he takes meds so he doesn't get a stomach bug or a cold or the flu.

"Earth to Richie!" Stan said and waved his hand in my face. We were baking some food together for the potluck, but my mind keeps wandering off to Eddie.

"Oh, sorry. I'm just distracted..."

"About what?"

As per usual, Stan is investigating every little detail of my life. He's been trying to figure me out since 8th grade, but he's told me on numerous occasions that I'm a "difficult person to figure out". Whatever that means.

"It's nothing Stan."

"Really? 'Cuz you keep zoning out..."

Maybe I should tell him. He's always been great at figuring things out (except for me apparently), so maybe he'll know what going on.

"It's just that... Eddie's acting weird."

Stan tensed up next to me. Does he know something I don't?

"Weird how?"

"He wasn't eating when I visited him, not even the brownies! And those are, like, his favorite food in the world!"

Stan let out a deep sigh before turning to me.

"I'm sure it's nothing Richie. He probably just ate a late lunch. Or he had a stomacheache, I don't know. But I'm sure he's fine. Don't worry too much about it, ok?"

"Ok," I said and went back to making the food. "I'm just worried, ya know? I just want to make sure he's ok."

"I get it. I feel the same way about Bill," he turned and winked at me. "You know, Bill. The love of my life."

God, Stan is such a prick. He knows I love Eddie, all of the Losers do. Apparently, it's "super obvious" and "everyone knows". Well, everyone except for Eddie. He's such a clueless gay.

Anyways, Stan and I kept talking and cooking until the other Losers showed up. The Potluck was fun, yeah, but it was missing something. It was missing my Eddie Spaghetti.