Loser

Chapter 8

Richie keeps trying to look at Eddie's drawing and Eddie keeps turning more and more, keeping his drawing out of Richie's line of sight. A knock at the door startles Eddie, causing him to jump and drop his paper. Before he can stand up and pick it up, Richie's already retrieved it from the floor.

"Haha. I fucking win." Riche looks down at the page in awe. "This isn't done? It's so fucking good."

"Just give it back so I can finish it. And shouldn't someone answer the door?"

"Come in! It's unlocked!" Richie yells, his attention still captured by the drawing. "Is this supposed to be anyone in specific?" Eddie looks at Richie, expression laced with shock.

"You're kidding?"

"No. I'm 100% serious."

"I guess you'll have to wait and see if you can get it when it is done. Now give it back." Richie scoffs and hands the paper back to Eddie. He stands up and walks over to the door, that no one has walked through yet. When he opens the door, he comes face to face with a boy slightly shorter than him, but still a good amount taller than Eddie. Eddie sinks further into the couch, hiding from the newcomer. He feels incredibly out of place. Part of hm wishes he was at home, but if he was, he'd wish he wasn't. Everyone is so familiar with each other, and here Eddie is, hiding in a couch, not knowing what to do when Richie walks away.

"Stan the Man! Get your ass in here." Stan walks inside and his eyes instantly go to Eddie.

"Who's that?" The unintentional poison in his voice hits Eddie like a slap in the face. He tries to curl up even smaller, but ultimately fails. He presses the paper in between his legs and torso and tucks the pencil behind his ear.

"Stanny Boy, this is Eddie. He's the newest loser." Stan looks over the ball hiding himself in suede fabric.

"Is he ok?" Richie looks at Eddie, then at Stan, and back to Eddie.

"Where's Big Bill? I thought he was coming with you."

"He had to do some things at home. Chores, I think. He said that he'll be over later."

"Ok." Richie walks over to Eddie and sits suspiciously close to him. Eddie tries to push himself even further into the armrest. "Whatsa matter, Eds?" Richie says, soft enough that no one else can hear. Eddie shakes his head. "Please don't lie to me." Richie grabs Eddie's calf gently.

"I'm just...I don't think Stan likes me."

"He literally doesn't know you. He seems cold when you first meet him. He'll come around. You're pretty likeable." Eddie smiles softly and shakes his head.

"Not really, but thanks. Uh...bathroom?" Richie stands up and motions for Eddie to follow him. Eddie gets up and walks closely behind Richie. They arrive at a mint green room and Richie moves out of Eddie's way. Eddie walks into the bathroom, shuts and locks the door and leans against it. He lets out a small, shuttered breath before tears begin to stream down his cheeks silently. He slowly slides down the door until he hits the ground. He sniffles quietly and wipes his hand across his eyes. "Stop. Stop fucking crying," he whispers to himself. "You're such a fucking baby. You can't even handle someone looking at you funny without breaking down. What is wrong with you?"

"There's nothing wrong with you, Eddie." Beverly's voice chimes through the door and Eddie breaks down into sobs. "Can I come in?"

"Please...no."

"Eddie. You need to let it out. Not vaguely either. You need someone to actually talk to who can understand and know how to help."

"I know. I know. I just...not right now. Please."