The Tension Between Us

Chapter Nine - Crow's Point

The next day Richie spent most of it moping around the house with little to do and a lot on his mind, nobody would be free until later in the night, but he was procrastinating about asking any of the losers to let him stay over, he didn't want to be a burden.
He sits on his open window sill and watches the sun set, warm sunshine seeping through the gaps and turning his bedroom into a golden hue. He didn't really know what to do, he couldn't go to Eddie's and sneak through his window in the wee hours of the night, couldn't cuddle up beside him and let the sweet smelling boy squeeze the pain away, couldn't hear his soft voice ramble about his day, thick with sleep. Eddie was always his best friend, but he'd also become his safe place when he encountered a problem in his life he couldn't cover with a joke, when his dad came back and he couldn't breathe in the crowded house, and now he'd been sent away, he had nowhere to go. The anxious feeling swirled back in his chest, he had expected Eddie to try and apologies by now, or say anything at all but he hadn't, then again maybe he was waiting until Sunday. They were planning to do their grand overnight stay at the clubhouse, bringing snacks and torches and firewood for a fire pit just outside. Bev was bringing vodka and Rum and Bill some cider, it was going to be 'the event of the century' according to an excited Ben, who had voted to babysit as long as he was aloud to film the losers drunken stupidity with his new camera. Kimmy had also been invited, by Bev of course, not Mike, because the scared and oblivious young stud would never have worked up the guts to. She wasn't a loser that was for certain, but she was nice enough to hang out with for a night, and everyone had agreed one day months ago in his absence, on an after school trip to the quarry, that Mike deserved some happiness in his life, and that loser time could definitely be given up on occasion to make that happen. Even so, he still felt hurt at the amount of time it was taking for Eddie to talk to him, even call, he knew this was serious and maybe Eddie really meant what he said, but Richie was his best friend. Wasn't that more important? Wasn't he? He chewed his lip and shook his head of the thought, he needed a distraction, and a fucking cigarette. The thought of the white and orange stick makes Beverly spring to mind, and he smiles at an idea. He hops down from the windows edge and jogs to the house phone, putting in the number and pressing the yellow receiver to his ear, twirling with the cord in anticipation. It feels like forever, but on the last ring the phone is picked up and the sweet voice of Peg Marsh comes through,
"Marsh residence, you've reached Peg, who's calling?"
She asks, Richie grinning,
"Hey there Mrs Marsh! Richie Tozier here, was wondering if-"
the kind women only cuts him off with a laugh, and he can practically see her kind blue eyes crinkling at the edges as she smiles through the phone,
"Richie dear, I'll put her through, just hold on a moment,"
he smiles at how well she knows the regular calls, then a muffled,
"Bevvy! I've got Richie on the phone, pick up the upstairs line, love!"
Then a clatter and a beep, and the bright voice of the freckled queen herself is present, "Trashmouth! It's been too long loser, calling for a meet up? Thought you'd forgotten about me!"
She says cheerily, both of them laughing,
"you know it babe!"
Richie calls back,
"meet at Crow's Point in 25?"
He asks,
"sounds brilliant, and don't be late!"
She says in her usual assertive tone before hanging up abruptly. He sighs with a lazy relieved smile on his face before going upstairs again, slipping on his leather jacket, his docs and spraying on some cologne. He then lifts the mattress of his bed and grabs the small bag he has hid under it, retrieving one of the blunts and shoving it in his jacket pocket before hopping out the window stealthily with practiced ease. He slips down the short distance to the top of the water tank and then to the grass, but pauses at the sight of something in the corner of his eye. He looks down and around him are smaller footprints pressed into the mud below, he studies them in slight confusion before shrugging, assuming they were his mothers, and continuing to the garage, where he grabs his bike and quickly pedals off towards Bev's. Crow's Point was actually called Crow's Lake, a small unknown clearing of water surrounded by trees that Bev and Richie found sometime last year on the way back to her house. They ended up walking some more and finding a huge willow tree that would look over the body of water, and as they discovered, the water would shimmer golden with the sunset. Over time they'd wound fairy lights into the long strands of green and carved their names into the bark of the ancient creature, claiming it theirs. Though the name didn't come until later that month when they decided to bring Stan, who said Crow's Point was more fitting, and it stuck. Stan would usually bring books with him when they all came there, leaning into Richie's side with Bev laying her head in either of their laps, red hair sprawled out as she puffed on a cigarette. He would read to them and even when he didn't bring along a novel he would tell them story's, terrific tails of tragic forbidden love and brilliant monsters of ice and fire. The story's weren't incredible, that was Bill's front, but his verbal delivery was somehow enchanting, and it left the two silent in anticipation every time. Richie would also bring his guitar from time to time, strumming background tunes as they chatted. It had become their spot, and though Richie felt bad sometimes that they didn't bring the other losers, it was nice to just have them three on the odd occasion. They hadn't hung out there a lot since Bev started dating Bill, but it was partly Richie's fault too, being caught up with his sexuality problems and stuff, and Stan was mentally exhausted so often that he didn't have the energy to organise things either. The thought makes Richie guilty because he didn't invite his bird loving friend, but he felt after their ten minute make out session it might be less awkward to just have it as him and Bev this time around. As he pulled up to the marking tire on the side of the dirt road, he could already see Bev's bike shoved into a bush, the metal shining from the street lamp across the road. He shoves his own next to it and wanders into the woods with his hands in his pockets, the night air was warm from the summer days, leaving Richie at a comfortable temperature. The bugs chirped as he strolled through the tall trees, following their makeshift path of marked stones, painted with glittery gold circles by Bev, and ten minutes later sees the glowing tree coming into view on a small hill overlooking the calm water. Bev had already flicked on the waterproof lights, making the tree look like it was filled with magic, and she's sitting against the base of it, singing to herself lightly with her eyes closed. She had a pretty voice when she wasn't trying too hard, following the tune to 'Friday I'm In Love' by the Cure, it makes Richie smile. She opens an eye at the sound of his footsteps and grins, hopping up to greet him in a hug, "You're late."
She says, but she still smiles and presses a kiss to his cheek before they both sit down again against the tree, the wall of leaves swaying softly around them, the fairy lights giving them just enough light to fill the big shape.
The two end up chatting like usual, looking out at the water and sharing cigarettes and laughing like idiots for about half an hour, before Richie reaches into his pocket to retrieve the blunt,
"got something to light this with?"
He says slyly, the girl next to him turns around, eyes widening a little with a surprised laugh,
"Obviously."
She winks, opening her bag and grabbing the small yellow lighter, flicking it three times before the flame flickers in, Richie leaning in with it between his lips as she lights it for him. The two weren't avid potheads, but they did it from time to time for a bit of fun, they once convinced the other losers to try it, now that was a wild night. The whole gang high as kites on brownies on the roof of Mikes farmhouse, it was also their first night of the previous summer, what a way to kick it off, right? Richie breathes in deeply and then leans over to the share the smoke with Beverly, blowing it between her parted lips. This would seem flirty and sexy to anyone else, but to them it was just normal, it was Richie and Bev things. He then passes it to her and she breathes it in with a smile, it hits quickly and soon they feel as light as air, Beverly giggling at every word that leaves Richie's lips and Richie going on and on about stupid crap about stars and time and the meaning of life. Richie stops for a second after the conversation fizzles a bit and leans over to brush his tingling fingers over the bark of the tree, the bumps where they carved their names deep, Stanley Uris, Beverly Marsh <3, Richie Trashmouth Tozier, Crow's Point residents, his mind flashes to the kissing bridge, but he pushes it away. He's snapped out of his thoughts when Bev speaks, and he turns back to face her,
"I lost my virginity last week."
She hums, Richie laughing in disbelief,
"no way. With Billy boy?"
He gapes, Bev nodding as she smiles, smug.
"It was, nice? Awkward, definitely awkward, but..."
she looks at Richie, biting her lip,
"really nice."
She giggles, Richie joining her with a grin,
"And to think, Beverly Marsh got devirginised before me? It's beyond belief."
Richie says, Bev cackling. She stops though when an idea comes to mind,
"Rich,"
She starts,
"how far have you gone with guys?"
Honest curiosity in her eyes. Richie feels his cheeks redden at the fresh memory of Stan's hazy brown eyes through soft curls, and Eddie's breathless lips, bruised red from kissing him. She pokes his side,
"Come on Richiieee, what've you done you nasty dog?"
Richie sighing with a groan,
"ok fine,"
he turns to her,
"Kissed a guy from the lacrosse team sophomore year in the locker room, then again under the bleachers but, he was,"
Richie hesitates, shrugging,
"he had some things to sort out, so we stopped."
Bev is hanging on every word, leaning on her hand with hazy eyes trained to him.
"Then two guys this year, one at Redmond's party, gave him some hickeys, we almost-" he stops himself, face flushed and clears his throat,
"well yeah, but we got interrupted. Then another guy recently but, it was a one time thing, names disclosed for obvious reasons."
He says, Bev making awing noises before she responds,
"well if I'm honest, I'm a little surprised you haven't done more, but at the same time, glad cuz' I mean, AIDS n' stuff."
She shrugs, Richie falling into laughter at her weed induced analogy.
"I'm glad we caught up,"
she adds,
"and that you trust me with all this. You told anyone else?"
He dips his head in shame with a smile,
"well, Stan? Though technically he just walked in on me... With a guy."
He says weakly, Bev's eyes widening like crazy,
"what?!"
She calls loudly, collapsing back to the grass in a wild fit of laughter, gasping in between as Richie laughs with her.
"Oh fuck, poor Stanley!"
She wheezes, Richie rolling his eyes and elbowing her,
"shut up."
He grins. He decides not to mention Eddie, it just makes things easier in the long run if it continues going south. She calms down eventually and leans her head on his shoulder with a sigh,
"I know you're gay and all but, I'm still proud about being your first kiss."
She smirks, Richie scoffing,
"Of course you are."
Him and Bev used to make out in the music rooms from time to time back in sophomore year out of boredom and hormonal urges, but they stopped when she got into a thing with Bill, which Richie was the slightest bit sad about because he didn't have any other hook up buddies, but it was for the better anyway, and brought them closer in the end. She frowns then, sitting back up,
"Shit, did you hate it when we kissed back then?"
She asks, Richie shakes his head in response, confused,
"course not, why would I do it if I hated it?"
She lets out a short scoff,
"but you're gay."
She deadpans. Richie shrugs,
"Doesn't mean I didn't like kissing girls, I do, I just like guys more so... That- that means I'm gay... right?"
He says, now a bit unsure because of the sudden onslaught of questions in his baked brain. She laughs then, subtle pity in her eyes,
"Richie, you know just because you like boys more, doesn't make you gay, you're aloud to like both you idiot."
Richie's eyes widen,
"Hold the fuck up, that's an option?"
He gapes, Bev laughing again,
"it's called Bisexual Trashmouth, you're bi."
She pats his shoulder as he sits there mulling over this new bound information,
"well shit."
He mumbles,
"I just spent 8 years of my life convinced I had to pick a side."
She squeezes his knee in comfort with a sigh,
"ah, my big dumb best friend, sexuality is a spectrum."
She confirms.
Now that solved a whole lot of shit, it made sense to just let himself like both, and he felt like an absolute spud for not figuring it out. Thank god for Beverly Marsh.
"By the way,"
Bev says,
"I know you like Eddie. Don't worry, I won't give it away."
Richie just sighs, he's not even surprised at this point, she knows him too well.
"Thanks Ringwald."
A few hours later they both treck their way back through the shrub to the roads edge, grabbing their bikes and preparing to split ways.
"Thanks Bevvy, I needed this."
He says as he hugs her goodbye. She pulls away and holds him at arms length, eyes a bit more serious now as the marijuana slowly fades from their bodies,
"Look, you don't have to say it for me to know what's going on, I know that look, I know he's back."
Richie looks to his shoes.
"Just remember my house is always open, Rich."
She sighs, pecking a kiss onto his forehead,
"don't be a stranger Tozier."
She whispers before pedalling off into the night.
He takes a second to try and stop himself from crying, standing alone on an empty dirt road, chest spinning with anxiety at the fact that it's time to go home, that the fun is over. He eventually swallows it and mounts his own bike, peddling off towards the centre of Derry.