not my forte || reddie

Eight

"Ba-a-by! You're my angel!" Richie screamed at the top of his lungs eyes squeezed shut letting the music pour out of him. It never failed to make him feel alive. Richie cracked an eye open, catching Eddie joining in.
"Come and save me tonight!" Eddie sang along with him holding an imaginary microphone in front of his gaping lips.
They were on their trip home from school, going to pick up Richies belongings from his house. His classmates beginning to notice him wearing the same sweater every day.

"Come on Stan! Sing, don't get your Granny panties in a twist!" Richie howled shaking the back of Stan's seat. He glared out the window.
"Come and make it alright!" Stanley came around singing with the rest of the car.
Everyone groaned when Bill turned the radio down, "S-shut u-up I n-need dire-e-ections." He snapped back at the complaining riders. Richie looked outside to see where they were. He hadn't been to his house in awhile he almost forgot his way. "Hang a left up here." Almost forgot. Bill followed his instruction pulling into Richies neighborhood.

He stared out the window waiting until they were right outside his house to announce their arrival. Everyone climbed out of the car. Richie hung back scared of what lay beyond those four walls. Eddie pulled the side door open holding his hand out. "It's okay. We're all here with you." He whispered soothingly sensing the anxiety practically leaking out of Richies pores. Richie clasped his hand and held on.

They walked hand in hand up the porch steps. He fished the spare key out of his pocket sliding it in the front door creaking it open. Bill took the lead walking into the dark home. He flicked the light switch but no light came on. "Weird." He mumbled to himself but shrugged it off.

Stanley drew the curtains open letting light in. He sneezed dust getting caught in his nose. "Fuck Richie. Do you know what a duster is?" He cried wiping the underside of his nose.

Richie shifted uncomfortably. Bill started up the stairs everyone quickly following.
"Is that the thing you have up your ass Stan?" Eddie cracked gripping onto Richies hand like a lifeline, trying to keep the other boy grounded. Richie snickered at the comment shoving his bedroom door open. Smelled the same, just a little old and fading. Faint smell of cigarettes and mint.

The place was trashed like it usually was. Clothes strewn across the floor like a tornado had run through it. Books piled high in a corner. Bill was stood over there looking at the covers for any he might recognize, but he quickly discarded them when he caught sight of the many comic books.

A rustling came up from behind him, Stanley stood with a trash bag. "Let's get to work." He quipped handing bags to each of their friends.
"Sort through your clothes, wants, needs and garbage." Stan explained already digging through Richies closet blushing and pulling out a stack of Playboys. "Really Rich?" He deadpanned.

Richie shrugged, "What? You want some?" He unraveled his own trash bag stashing some of his favorite articles of clothing away. Bill found his old radio turning it on letting some music play as they worked.

Richie wouldn't mention it but he noticed  Stan sneak a couple of his risqué magazines in the 'want' bag. He threw his full trash bag next to the open door seeing his floor for the first time in years. Bill pulled out a thick flannel holding it up to his body, Richie watched with a grin. "You raiding my closet Billy?" Bill pulled it away from his body.
"It's only f-fair, you still wear m-m-my sweater." He pointed out the very sweater Richie wore now.

Richie shrugged walking over heaps of junk reaching the hall.
"I would've given it to you anyway. I never wear it." He grabbed hold of the full trash bags taking them downstairs to pile in the back of Stella. He trudged through the overgrown front lawn just as Mike Hanlon pulled up on his bike.
"Moving day?" Mike smiles pulling Richie into a hug patting him on the back.