garage guitar | reddie

five

july 1981

richie awoke in his bed, uncovered. the morning sun shone through the white blinds, leaving lined shadows across richies body. then he noticed bill, who was softly snoring on his bed. his face was no longer red, though his eyes were still slightly puffy. the shadows and light daggered across bills face made him look pretty. but richie has always thought bill was pretty. the way his green eyes turned emerald during sunset or the way his soft brown hair rustled in the wind. the way his leadership compelled you in a protected spell and the way his soft comforting words when you were at your worst would calm you, that was pretty too.

richie still did not know what to say to the fact that bill kissed stanley, their best friend. richie looked at bill and exhaled deeply, thinking about their talk last night. how bill didn't think he was gay because he stopped liking betty ripsom only a few months ago, but then he just kissed stanley last night. richie thought about how he almost told bill he saw the most beautiful boy at the ice cream place last week and how when he told beverly she asked him if he was gay.

bill won't accept you.

"why wouldn't bill accept him? he kissed stanley! he likes stanley! maybe i could just hold it off," he thought.

richie looked down at his floor, covered in clothing, records and god knows what. he slowly got up off the bed and began to pick up the clothing and throw it lazily into his hamper. he picked up his records and put them messily back into his shelf beside the record player. he left to grab the broom, sneakily tiptoeing to the hall closet. no sounds. he guessed no one was home, but he didn't take any chances by being too loud. he grabbed the broom and snuck back into his bedroom. once he returned, bill was propped up on his elbows, still in richie's bed.

"'ello, king billiam, sire! jus' ere to clean yer ol' masters quarters!" he said in a god awful british accent.

"g-g-good morning to you t-t-to, rich-richie" bill replied. richie started sweeping all his trash and putting it in his garbage bin. the room wasn't perfect in any way possible, but at least you could walk around the floor.

"m-maybe we could bring st-st-stanley here to or-or-or-fuck!" bill groaned.

"origami? organize?" richie asked.

"yeah, th-that. he could do th-that to your bed-bed room," bill stuttered.

"not a bad idea, billy boy. i'm excited for the party, are y-"

"of fuck! the p-p-party! st-stanley! i j-just fuckin k-kissed him!" he interrupted.

"calm down bill," richie assured, "listen, i don't think stan is going to hate you, or not let you come, or any of that stuff. he's your best friend. yeah, you kissed him but now you can't change that. just talk to him, and don't avoid him. cause that would be even worse. you can't kiss somebody and avoid them after."

"th-thanks richie," he said, "i'm just scared,"

"you'll be fine! just try not to worry about it too much," richie advised.

not too shortly after, bill left to get ready and richie told him he would meet him to walk to the aladdin theatre.

as richie opened the door to leave, a shriek ran through the house of 'richieee!' from his mother. he froze, but he just slowly, quietly, and carefully shut the door and just started running. he didn't stop running until he reached the end of the street. once he stopped, he turned to his house in fear of seeing his mother cone chasing after him. he began shuffling backward when he bumped into something.