Wait For It || Reddie ✔️

- 13 -

Richie calmed down enough to pull himself to his feet and go downstairs. His head pounded from crying so hard and his mind flashed back to when Eddie and Beverly were over after Ben's birthday.

"You idiot, if you're sick you gotta drink water."

Richie closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. He decided he'd get water after he made this call. He walked into the living room and spotted his mother on the couch. An empty bottle of wine laid on its side on the floor. Richie rubbed an eye and grabbed a blanket from the stack in the corner of the living room. He flapped it out and laid it over his mom, also adjusting the pillow her head laid on. He picked up the wine bottle before heading to the phone, dialing in a number.

"Hello?"

"Hi! Is Stanley there?"

"Yes. One second, please."

Richie breathed in deeply and let out a shaky breath. A sob waited in his throat but he forced it down. "Hello?"

"Stan the Man! Hello," Richie said, forcing a sense of happiness in his voice.

"What do you want, Richie?"

"I uh.." Richie swallowed and turned around to lean against the table which the phone sat on. "I did a bad thing, Stanley."

"Does it affect me?"

Richie's eyebrows twitched and he looked down at the ground. "No..?" He said slowly.

"Great! Then suffer in silence."

Richie was taken aback. "Really?" He asked before shaking his head. "Fine, Stan! Don't help me! It's not like I needed it anyway."

He pulled the phone away and was about to slam it down on the receiver when he heard Stan's voice. "What?" Richie asked, putting the phone back up to his ear.

"I asked if you were okay," Stan repeated.

"I said I did a bad thing! Like, horrible. I mean I liked it, but it was still bad and I don't know what the fuck I'm going to do."

"What are you talking about? What did you do, Richie?"

"Can you just come over, please?"

"Uh.. yeah. Is it okay if I bring over Beverly? She offered to go bird watching with me at 3."

"Yeah that's fine."

"Okay, Rich. I'll see you in a few."

Richie said his goodbyes and hung up. His hand lingered on the phone for a second longer before
sliding off. His mother hadn't moved at all and Richie rolled his eyes. He grabbed the wine bottle and walked to the kitchen.

~~~

"Rich?" Beverly asked as she knocked on the door. Footsteps could be heard and the door swung open. Richie quickly placed a finger over his lips, shushing the two. Beverly's eyebrows pulled together as she stepped into the house. She followed Richie into the living room where she spotted his mom passed out on the couch.

"She drank herself to sleep again," Richie explained as Stan closed the front door. Beverly blinked and looked away. "To my room we go," Richie said and pointed up the stairs. "Your room we go," Beverly repeated.

Richie and Beverly both sat on his bed while Stan stood near the window. "I'm missing out on bird-watching to be here," Stan said when Richie offered him a spot on his bed. "Someone is a bit upset," Richie said. Stan rolled his eyes and continued to stare out the window.

"Stanley said you did something bad," Beverly said and Richie paused. "Something bad? Sounds like me." Beverly raised an eyebrow and stared him
down. "Richie," she said. "Bevvy," said Richie.

She sighed and forced down her amused smile by looking away. "What did you do, Richie? If I'm missing my bird-watching because of this-" Richie waved his hand at Stan, cutting him off. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Missing your bird-watching."

Richie looked back over at Beverly and swallowed thickly. He never actually thought they'd interrogate him on this. "You see, guys," Richie started and looked away. "It's kinda personal. I was just freaking the fuck out when I called Stanley."

Stan sighed and slapped his hands to his thighs. "You're telling me I can here for no reason?" He asked. "No!" Richie said quickly. "You're my emotional support through this very hard and confusing time. I'm struggling here, Stan."

"And I'm struggling to understand you," he said back and Beverly nodded. "Yeah, me too, Rich. If you want us to help you gotta tell us what happened." Richie looked back and forth between the two of them. "It isn't important," he said.

"If it wasn't important then you wouldn't of called me!" Richie tried to think of something to say back, but failed to come up with something. "Am I wrong?" He asked. "Sadly, no."

Beverly shifted and moved her legs under her. "Richie. What happened?" Richie met her eyes and breathed out. He tried to build up the courage to tell them, but the fear was too great.

"I can't!" He finally blurted out. "I want to..! But I can't." Stan moved away from the window and stood next to the bed. "And why can't you?" Richie looked up at him before adjusting his glasses. "Because, Stan. It's.. it's a lot. And I'm not even sure what to think of it myself."

Silence fell between the three of them. "Okay, Richie," Beverly said softly. "You don't have to tell us if you don't want to." Stan shot her a look as if to say 'excuse me? what are you doing?'

She raised her eyebrows and jerked her head to Richie. Stan looked down at his friend, who looked relieved to hear those words fall from Beverly's mouth. "Thanks, Bevvy."