fifteen // reddie

6.0

It had been weird for Richie to know that all the Losers were hanging out and that he wasn't there, despite totally being able to make it. If it were the day before, he would have jumped out of bed and biked to the quarry faster than you can say "Richie Tozier is a stupid asshole".

But it wasn't the day before. It was the second morning of fifteen-year-old Richie Tozier, the lucky boy who's soulmates with Eddie Kasprak. The lucky boy who arrived at Beverly's house at three and has to leave before six because her dad will be home early.

Currently, he and Beverly are sitting on her bed. Beverly is cross-legged, Richie lying his head in her lap, staring up at the ceiling as her fingers dance in his curls. They had talked about Eddie for a while before their conversation progressed into other things, because Richie had forced it to. He didn't want to talk about Eddie or think about him or listen to Bev tell him that he's stupid and Eddie's secretly been in love with him for years. Because that's stupid. The universe sucks. It wouldn't do that for Richie. No, Richie is the kind of guy that gets knifed on his birthday. That's his relationship with the universe: they aren't close pals.

Maybe this is why there's a lull in the conversation, and Bev conveniently swoops in.

"Eddie's upset you're avoiding him. And don't say you're not, because you totally are."

"Can't we just have a nice time together and not talk about how much my life sucks?"

"That's the thing!" Bev declares. "Your life doesn't suck! You're just making it suck because... well, I don't really know why."

"I'm being realistic."

"You're being ignorant. Get up." She pushes his head off her lap, signaling that he should sit up. Which means this is a Serious Conversation. Richie pushes himself up, leaning back on his palms for a second before switching his position so he can face Beverly without having to turn his neck. Once he's comfortable, he raises his eyebrows, signaling to his friend to start talking. "I don't know what's up with this self-sabotage, but you need to get over yourself, Richie. You're cute and funny and Eddie's best friend. And his soulmate. The fact that you aren't all over this is incredibly dumb-"

"I am all over this! But Eddie doesn't like me back!" Richie throws his legs over the side of the bed, huffing, then facing the floor.

Beverly throws her hands up, standing up from the bed with them. "I already told you he does!"

"He could have- changed his mind!" Richie follows her to his standing position. As he says 'mind' he leans forwards slightly and pokes his head about ten times really fast, as if he's drilling his own sentence into his brain.

"He didn't! Trust me!" Beverly says.

"Stop it! Stop it, Beverly!" Richie shouts. His voice crack is surprising- almost like he's going to cry- but he doesn't. "Please, just stop!"

"Stop what?"

"Stop saying- saying these things because I care about him so much and I don't want to see him get hurt. I'm not good for him."

"You're hurting him by doing this, dipshit." Bev replies, her voice dangerously low.

"He'll get over it."

"You're his soulmate. He won't."

"He can try."

"You can try. Try to man up and not be so fucking scared of implausible rejection that won't happen. But you won't, so why should he? Why does he have to be the only one making sacrifices?"

"I'm not happy with this either, Bev! I'm hurting too!" Richie is shouting now, his fingers aggressively tapping his chest. They eventually fall to his sides, but his hands are still balled up.  "I love him! I love him, but I'm not good for him!"

"You don't get to decide that!" Bev shouts back, carding her fingers through her hair. She takes a step back from him, then takes a deep breath in an attempt to cool off. "Richie, he cried to me for twenty minutes about how shitty you're making him feel. About how he loves you. Please," She rushes forwards and grabs her friend's hands in her own. "Please, stop this. I am so, so sorry you feel like how you do." One of her hands goes to his cheek, resting there gently. "But you are not a burden. You are not a mistake. Your happiness is worthwhile. You don't have to punish yourself. You deserve happiness. You deserve love. You deserve Eddie. And you don't have to be here talking with me- you can go find him at any point and apologize and I'm sure he'll understand, but not if you take too long. It's not too late yet. Please, Richie, don't do this to yourself. Or to Eddie. You deserve a happy ending. " She quickly swipes her thumb underneath his eye, much like how she had swept blood from it two days prior. This time, she's wiping away tears.

Richie stares at her blankly. He loves you. She had said, and she hadn't been lying. You are not a burden. Richie shuts his eyes and squeezes, pushing the last of his lingering tears out. You deserve happiness. You deserve love. Richie's heart swells with love for the girl in front of him, throwing his arms around her neck and hugging her, pulling her close. She responds by wrapping her arms around him and burying her face into his neck, mumbling about just wanting to see him happy. This only makes him hug her tighter. They remain there for quite a time, the two of them ignoring it every time Richie's throat makes a noise because he's so desperately holding back tears. Eventually, he pulls away.

"I should go see Eddie."

A smile breaks onto Bev's face and she nods quickly. "Please, do. I can't stand much more of this."

"Me neither." Richie laughs. Bev pushes him away, pressing her hand against his face, to which he responds by laughing more and sticking his tongue out to lick it. "Your hand tastes like snails, mademoiselle." Richie says in an over-the-top French voice, making a weird face and twirling an invisible mustache. 

Beverly flips him off. "Literally leave my house." She wipes her hand off on her green overalls.

"Fine, fine." He says, throwing his hands up in mock surrender and rolling his eyes. He leaves her bedroom after giving her a proper hug good-bye. He leads himself out the front door, throwing it open, planning to retrieve his bike and zoom his way to Eddie's house.

The plan is simplified, though. 

Eddie's already right in front of Richie, frozen in his tracks on his way up the front steps.