cliché || reddie ✔️

seventeen

With an overnight bag in one hand and his phone in the other, Richie starts his way back up the steep hill. Train tracks run throughout Derry transporting whatever stores and businesses need. They're not for riding, but every once in a while a homeless person will hop on and Derry will be one person short. Or more.

Everyone knows about the trains, it's not a hidden part of Derry or one of their Mysteries. It's not even a hangout spot for teens or misfits (Bowers gang). But some humid day in the summer Beverly and Richie dragged their bikes out and dedicated that day to exploring their town. The two rode through the forest, down around the quarry, and finally ended up at the tracks.

Beverly likes to take photos there sometimes, but she likes to take photos everywhere so there's not much of a speciality to the place.

Richie reaches the top of the hill with burning calves and heavier breathing. And of course, as expected, dulled down red hair is there, waiting. She has her camera raised above her head and pointed to the houses and streets below.

As Richie approches, she turns and looks over her shoulder. "Fancy seein' you here," she says, a smile picking up her lips.

"I found it." He holds up the deflated soccer ball they've been kicking back and forth for the past half hour. She pushes out an airy laugh and lowers her hands.

"Get any cool pictures? You know, contrary to belief my face can be used for modeling," Richie says, smirking, and this time Beverly lets out a full laugh.

"You sure about that?" She asks.

Richie steps over the rails covered in snow to get to where Beverly stood on the edge of the hill. "Can we go now?" He asks. "We came out here to go to the quarry, right? So let's go."

Beverly raises an eyebrow, but starts down the path anyway. "We came out here to get out of the house," she says. "Besides, it's like a winter wonderland out here."

"Christmas nightmare," he mutters.

Richie digs his hands farther into his pockets. Why didn't he bring gloves? It's cold out. He bets Eddie would have gloves, maybe even a second pair. A smile creeps up onto his face when the image of him trying on Eddie's small gloves pops into his head.

Beverly motions for Richie to give her the soccer ball. He does, and she takes it into her hands, wiping off the snow packed onto it. Richie hops onto the rails and puts one foot in front of the other.

The two walk down the train tracks until they hit where the land slopes up and dead trees with low hanging branches come up. Snow sits over each branch, threatening to tumble down with each breeze.

Beverly stops and picks up the camera hung around her neck. Richie sighs heavily and tilts his head up to the sky. "How long is this gonna take, Bev?" He asks as his head falls back down. "It's cold as balls out here."

"Not that long," she responds, tilting the camera upwards towards the tips of the trees where the branches thin out and extend towards the sky. Richie hums and hops off the rails to the soccer ball.

Up ahead, the rails curve off to the left while a trail hikes up a steep hill off to the right. He hears snow crunch under shoes behind him and a second later Beverly is passing by him.

"Thanks for waiting so patently, Rich," she says mockingly. "How I wish I could have just a-" She cuts herself off, watching as Richie bends down and digs his hand into the snow.

"Wait, Rich, no. It was just a joke." He flings the snow at her and she yells out as she tries to run away. Richie laughs and chases after her, leaving the soccer ball behind.

In the summer, when it's warm and the trees are full and all you can see is green, the sun casts kaleidoscopes onto the forest ground. But the leaves are buried and the sun is gone, hidden behind blankets of gray. All the mute colors hurt Richie's eyes.

He throws his bag down onto a rock along with Beverly's bag. She's off to the side snapping a few more pictures of the iced over quarry. Richie pulls out the four sheets of cardboard with string attached to them. It's their own makeshift ice skates, since real ones are a bit pricey.

"Here you go," Richie calls out over his shoulder and tosses the smaller ones over to her. He shoves his own over his shoes and shuffles over to the edge of the rock.

Beverly is already hobbling her way down the rocks and testing the thickness of the ice. "Wow, wouldn't it suck if one of us were to fall through?" Richie asks.

Beverly gets on, arms out as her feet shuffle farther down the rink. "Probably be you," she says. "With your fatass? You'd sink like the titanic."

"You just call me thick?" Richie asks, a shit-eating grin on his face. "It's about time you come to terms with.."

"Oh fuck off, Rich!" She yells at him, her own smile on her face. "And get over here."

He compiles, crouching down to shimmy down the rocks until his cardboard skate hits ice. As he's making his way over, Beverly says, "Don't you think it'll be nice to bring everyone here?" Richie looks at her, and she's looking back with a waiting gaze. "The others, you know?"

He shrugs, it'll be nice to bring the others, he figures. But Eddie is the only one he really wants there. "If Eds can come, then sure."

Beverly cracks a smile but she doesn't say anything about it. "Maybe during the party," she continues saying. "Or before. It doesn't really matter to me."

"Well I don't give a fuck either way. It's your party."

She rolls her eyes and pushes herself farther down the ice. "Our party, Richie," she says, her voice floating over her shoulder.

Richie ignores her and slowly starts to follow her. His eyes trail up and up over the towering rock and to where dead trees line the cliff. He cups his hands around his mouth and yells out.

"Ay-Oh!"

His voice bounces off the rocks and behind the echo is Beverlys giggles.

"Ayy-Oh!" She yells.

"Ay-Ohhohohoh."

Beverly's full on laughing now, an arm wrapped around her stomach as she lets her head fall back. "Beverly, snap out of it! We're in the middle of summoning Freddie Mercury," Richie says. "Ay-Oh!"

"Ay-Ooohh," she says. Her voice gets lost in Richie's echoes and she gives up. She looks around before stopping on Richie. "I don't think he's coming," she says.

"Probably scared of my musical talent," Richie says, then pauses. "No, never mind," he says while shaking his head. "No one is better than Freddie."