cliché || reddie ✔️

thirty six

Dinner went.. not like anything Richie had imagined.

It was chaotic, people getting worked up and others becoming frustrated and overwhelmed. It was a lot to drop on them, yes, but Richie also thinks he and Beverly and Eddie could have handled it a little bit better.

Like for starters, letting people finish eating before saying the news.

At least Mike and Ben were relatively calm throughout the dinner. Bill didn't want to leave his parents, not after his father took both him and his mother out for a family lunch, something that hasn't happened since Georgie passed.

"I'm f-fuh..finally getting m-m-m..muh-my p-parents back," he had said with a set jaw and narrowed eyes. Beverly dropped her hands to her sides, silently giving up and not attempting to argue with him any longer.

"It'll never work," Stanley said to Richie and Eddie. The three were off to the side in a whole separate conversation. "None of us are capable enough to move out right after high school."

"Stanley, you don't know that," Eddie shot back. His hands shoot up to make his point seem more valid than Stanley's, but all Richie sees is him becoming more agitated by the second.

"Shit, maybe I don't," Stanley replied, dodging one of Eddie's stray hands, "But if we think about it logically, one of us is going to slip and lose their job, or spend money on useless things, and it'll be like a domino effect with the rest of us. Next thing we know we're all homeless and broke."

From outside their conversation, Bill interjected with, "I agree w-w-..wuh-with Stanley."

Eddie turned from Bill back to the boy standing in front of him, his eyes narrowed and flaming with anger. He opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closed it and shook his head instead.

"Eddie," Stanley started, his face softening when he realized he may have pushed too far.

"Save it," Eddie had replied, then turned around and walked out of the dining room. No one noticed his absence besides the two boys and Beverly, who gave Richie a questioning look.

He only shook his head dismissively at her before saying to Stanley, "I'll go get him. Cool off, dude. Eddie is just too high in his daydreams."

Stanley left before Richie did, walking around him to sit at the table. Food was left abandoned on plates and it didn't look like anyone is going back to dinner any time soon.

Richie easily slipped out of the dining room, relief lifting the stress from his shoulders that the ongoing conversations were behind him and not exploding in his face.

The living room and stairs were empty, very soft light ever so slightly brightening the areas up. It wasn't horribly late yet, but the sun had dipped down behind buildings at that point. Richie knew exactly where Eddie was, exactly where he went to get away from everything without straying too far.

Now, as the two boys sit with the overgrowth on Richie's front porch steps, the boy tries to coax Eddie into telling him what's wrong. It's obvious it's something greater than wanting to get out of Derry, something Richie noticed from the first mention of moving. He's seen that longing look in Eddie's eyes; he's had it, too.

"What's wrong, Eds?" Richie repeats himself. "You know you can tell me anything."

Eddie looks over at him from the corner of his eye. He then shrugs and pulls his knees closer to his body. "I know that, Richie," he says, "and nothing is wrong. Stanley was just getting on my nerves."

Richie looks down at his open palms, slowly flexing each finger. He doesn't want to admit it, but a small part of him agrees with what Stanley had pointed out. One of them will get too caught up in the "living with your best friends" dream and go a little off the tracks. Besides, seven people in a four bedroom apartment would be Hell.