Brushstrokes (Reddie AU)

New Adjustments

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The rain patters against the window as I drive to school, trying not to think about the day ahead of me. I'm a junior now, I can't keep slacking off. But oh, it really is the easiest way to survive this hell called high school.

I'm fucking tired. Tired of most things...especially secrets. But that's the thing about secrets, you know. They keep you alive.

At least I'm not at the bottom of the social ladder or whatever you want to call it. Sure, I've dealt with my fair share of bullies trying to break me, but I've got a good set of friends. My best friend is Mr. Stan Uris. When he's not obsessing over his bird books or whatever, he's a good listener who puts up with me.

I make jokes, you see. A lot.

But here, inside my funny little head, jokes won't be made. Because this is the only place I can truly be myself. I don't have to hide from my own mind. No secrets here.

I finally pull into the parking lot and get out of the car. It's still raining, but it's quieted down enough. Kids are walking in and meeting up with friends. I saunter towards Stan, who's sitting in the courtyard under the small little roof, Reading. "What's up, fuckface?" I tease and sit beside him.

"Good morning, Tozier," he replied simply and shut the book. "Can I see your schedule? I want to see what classes we have together."

I fetch the small piece of paper from my bag and let him scan it over. He chuckled as he read my third period class. "Painting?" He asked and shook his head. "Rich, you've joined painting? No one is in painting, except for those artsy girls who don't talk to us."

I roll my eyes. "So what? It's an easy A, dickwad, I don't even have to try."

He simply laughs, shaking his head. He stands up and starts walking inside, so I follow him. He starts talking about some girl he had started working with, when I notice something.

He is a short kid, with dark brown hair, who strolls into the school, definitely faking confidence. He is wearing a red tee shirt with a small rainbow on the pocket, and some cute overalls. It catches me off guard. I have never seen him before.

Damnit, Rich! Don't forget your secret!

Thanks, inner voice. I turn back to Stan and pretend to have been listening the whole time. "She sounds like a real bitch, but maybe you can screw her," I say.

Stan shoots me a strange glare. "Rich, what the hell? I said her mom just died! And she's been off ever since!"

I think for a few seconds. "You can still screw her," I smirk. His reaction is priceless. But all I can think about is the cute boy in the overalls.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The first two periods fly by in a blur, I'll admit. I don't pay much attention. I take the notes and think to myself for the most part. I think people find it weird that I'm not disrupting or being a nuisance.

I think I find it weird too.

But then third period comes. I sit near the back, scanning the room for familiar faces. Stan was sure right...it was mostly girls who would never talk to me. Not that I cared. I would never care about anyone in that class-

And then he walks in.

God, it's so cliche, but if you saw him looking that cute I think you'd react the same exact way. Don't lie. His stupid overalls and his stupid shirt with the stupid rainbow. I smile like an idiot and he ends up sitting next to me, smiling as well.

The teacher starts to rant about the art industry, how we will never be successful, and I take the time to lean closer to this boy. "Hi," I say. "I'm Richie 'Trashmouth' Tozier, it's great to fucking meet you."

"I...I'm Eddie," he grins. He seems so gentle, you know? He seems like the kind of kid who's too gentle to pick a flower. So why do I care about him?

You know exactly why you care about him.

I see, Inner Voice. We are given a quick assignment...a self portrait in any medium, to be done in a half hour. It makes me wonder how this art teacher thinks. A half hour? Isn't art supposed to be not rushed?

I start a basic sketch of a clown. What? I can't have artistic thoughts? I am a bit of a clown, if I do say so myself. I think I'm fucking hilarious, though some disagree. Some even think I'm scary.

And you hide behind a mask, Richie.

I glance over at Eddie's after a while. He's using oil pastels and is painting himself, but instead of a mouth, he has a giant bandaid under his nose. I don't know this kid enough to understand the significance, but it looks neat.

"Did you suck a dirty dick?" I ask.

He looks up at me with wide eyes. "W-What?" He asks almost horrified.

"You know, the bandaid. Maybe you sucked a dirty dick." I laugh, but I realise I had fucked up by saying that. What am I thinking?

He laughs softly and looks at my clown. It looks like shit compared to his, but he smiles when he sees it.

I think I like this boy Eddie. He's kind and talented and he likes my clown. I just hope he likes me too.