When Nothing's More than Nature (Prologue)

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"He's so late."

They were all supposed to meet at the pharmacy at four so Eddie could get his prescription and Beverley could get her cigarettes—which they did, almost thirty minutes ago. They were supposed to go to the clubhouse after that, except now they were just waiting for the one Loser that had yet to turn up.

"We should just leave him." Stan grumbled, leaning against the building, looking particularly irritated.

"Next time we should t-tell him the meetup time is an hour earlier," Bill groaned, sliding down the wall until he sat on the dirty cement. Gross.

Eddie was absolutely fuming. "If we leave him, I can't kick his ass when he gets here—whenever that may be."

"We told him the right time, didn't we?" Mike asked, as patient as always; almost annoyingly so, actually.

"Of course we did, he's just an idiot." Eddie huffed. It's not like this was particularly surprising behavior, but Eddie figured that considering it was the group's first official summer hangout after graduation, Richie might bother to show up on time.

"Speak of the idiot and he shall appear," Ben said, nodding at that familiar lanky figure rushing towards them from down the street.

Richie came jogging over to them, smiling eagerly, dropping his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. "Guys! You'll never guess what I found!"

"Apparently not a watch," Eddie remarked, making Stan snicker.

"Spaghetti, please, this is much more important than time," Richie said dismissively, straightening out. "Check this jacket out!" he exclaimed, giving them a spin so everyone could get a good look.

A "good" look was a generous term; the jacket was absolute garbage. Black denim, faded in more than a few places, a few rips and frayed spots. And that was without the most generic, randomly placed iron-on patches Eddie had ever seen in his life—a rose with thorns, and some faded yellow "hang loose" patch. It was a disaster.

Actually, Eddie wouldn't have been surprised if Richie had seriously pulled it out of a trash can on his way over. "What the hell is this?"

"I found it in my closet!" Richie said excitedly. "I think I bought it awhile ago, or maybe my dad did, I dunno—but it's awesome, right?"

"Awesome?" Stan asked incredulously, pinching at one of the aforementioned patches. "This is the ugliest thing I've ever seen."

Richie swatted his hand away. "Awe come on now guys, it has potential! Personality!"

Beverly looked over it, her face only mildly twisted in disgust. "Maybe... If we get some new patches on it. And wash it. I can see something here."

Richie motioned to her dramatically. "Aha! See? Told ya."

"It's actual trash, Rich." Eddie said with a roll of his eyes, pulling off a stray string hanging off the bottom. "Is this what you kept us waiting for? Cause you were digging around in your closet for a trash jacket?"

"Maybe." Richie put his arm around him, grinning. "What? You really don't like Trash Jacket?"

Eddie shrugged him off, groaning in disgust. And even worse, he was the one who just gave this garbage a title. "Don't touch me with that thing on, I don't want whatever diseases it's carrying."

Stan rolled his eyes. "Trash Jacket was definitely not worth the wait, that's for sure."

"So mean," Richie laughed, pinching at Eddie's cheek before he could get out of arm's reach. "Anyway, we just gonna stand around here all day or what?"

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