Better // Reddie

five

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Graphic depictions of eating disorders, description of mental health facilities, brief mentions of OCD

Morning snack was, surprise surprise, another one of those shake things. Eddie felt every sip ooze right into his gut, making a nest out of fat. There was a granola bar too, which was painfully dry and coated the sides of his throat. He wanted to scream, wanted to cry. But he didn't. 

Instead he stared at another painted sunflower on the wall, and pretended not to notice the eagle-like way Leslie observed him. The yellow of the petals mocked him, their cheeriness only brightening through his pain. 

His stomach hurt. 

"Your group members are in the library right now, how about I take you there?" Leslie asked as Eddie swallowed the last bit of the crumbly granola bar. He coughed, and nodded his head. Refrained from speaking, afraid of bursting into tears. "The others are probably doing their schoolwork. We haven't gotten anything from your teachers, but it should be in soon."

The "library" was more of a cramped room filled with teetering shelves piled with old books, and a couple of scattered tables with worn chairs. Eddie spotted Richie in the corner, who had his face shoved in a book. He had gotten the only table by a window, and the sunlight streamed through and hit Richie's curls quite nicely. 

Not that he noticed this. 

Richie's head shot up when the door behind Eddie slammed shut, and he immediately waved his hands in the air, yelling, "Spaghetti man! Over here!" 

Stan shushed him immediately, after which Richie pantomimed zipping his lips closed. Eddie shuffled over to him, trying to pull out the chair across from Richie with as little noise as possible. 

"Where'd you disappear to, Eds?" Richie asked, putting his book down on the table. Eddie could see the title now, it was something about all of the movies you "must see before you die". 

"Leslie just wanted to talk about something. You know, first day stuff." He hoped he sounded believable. Eddie's voice was still a little shaky, the tears still pricking at the back of his eyes. If Richie noticed, he pretended not to. 

"Or she thinks you're cute." 

"What?" Leslie was, like, forty. Gross. 

"I'm kidding, Eds. Take a chill pill. Unless you're already on them, in which case-" 

"Shut up." Eddie suppressed a laugh that bubbled up from his throat (or maybe that was the granola bar from earlier). 

"As you wish, m'lady," Richie bowed his head, in what Eddie supposed was to be an impression of some sort of medieval knight. "Anyways, check this out." 

On the page was a glossy photo of a pair of big red lips. Resting on them was an actor (Eddie recognized him as Tim Curry, who he only knew because he bore a striking resemblance to one of the well-known men in Derry), and big red letters that looked like they were bleeding read-

"The Rocky Horror Picture Show?" Eddie asked. He'd heard of it before, the theater in Derry had shown it once. Sonia hadn't let him go, of course. Eddie just remembered reading the ad for it in the paper. His mom had then snatched it away, mumbling something about "sinners" and how "inappropriate" it was. 

"Have you seen it?" There was a spark behind Richie's glasses, as he leaned closer, like he was sharing a secret. 

"No," He admitted, shaking his head. "I've heard of it, though." Eddie added, not wanting Richie to think he was some sort of sheltered baby (although, in a way, he was).