Summer of '93 - Stozier

29

Richie woke up that afternoon to an empty bed. There was a note on the pillow where Stan had been sleeping. He picked up the note and slipped on his glasses to read it.

Richie,
Didn't wanna wake you, left the clothes you let me borrow on the chair.
Don't tell the other losers what i told you. Not yet.
p.s. im sorry.
Love, Stan.

"Sorry?" Richie whispered, squinting at the words. "Didn't you already apologise?"

He checked the time on his clock. 1:43pm. Richie groaned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and stretching. "Too early." He muttered, throwing the covers off of him and dragging himself out of bed.

He was halfway down the stairs when he stopped, hearing both his parents voices from the living room.

"You disappear for four days- four goddamn days, Went! You knew he would think it was his fault! And you me to just let you talk to him without explaining to me-"

"Please Maggie, just let me talk to him for a few minutes!-"

Richie heard his mother sigh loudly. "Fine. But if you dare say anything that upsets him, so help me, you'll be out before you can even utter the word sorry."

Richie slowly backed up the stairs. "Fuck! Fucking fuck! Shit! Ah!" He whispered, closing his bedroom door as quietly as he could. He really did want to talk to his dad- or maybe he did.. just a little bit. But, no. It was always so awkward talking to his dad.

He heard his bedroom door being knocked on a few seconds later and panicked, blurting out, "I-I'm not in here!" And then smacking his head. Idiot, he thought.

"Richard, I need to talk to you."

Richie cleared his throat, jumping onto his bead and grabbing a book, opening it at a random page. "Y-yeah?" He called out.

The door opened and his dad walked in, leaving the door ajar. He moved Richies desk chair closer to the bed and sat down.

Richie looked at him, nodding his head and signalling for his dad to speak.

Went cleared his throat and looked down at his hands. "Well- first of all, i'd like to apologise for leaving for so long.-"

"Four days isn't that long, dad. Its fine." Richie mumbled.

"Right. Uh.. I just- You're mother told me about the whole.." He nodded towards Richie. "Y'know."

"Its not a bad word dad." Richie rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, okay. Um- Well she told me about the whole-" He cleared his throat again. "Gay thing.."

"Yeah, I kinda figured that."

"Mhm. Well- I- You're sure?" He asked, his eyebrow raised.

"Pretty fuckin' sure, Went." Richie nodded.

"Language." Went mumbled. "I know that I can't really do anything about that so theres no point in being mad about it, I get that now.. I guess I just need time to wrap my head around it, 's that okay?"

"Well- Its actually really simple so I don't see why you'd need to do that? Its not a hard thing to understand, I like boys, father." Richies voice faded to a horrible british accent as he spoke.

"Richie." His dad spoke in a warning tone.

"Okay! Fine!" Richie put his hands up in defence. "You go- I dunno, think it over." He shrugged. "I gotta go, anyways."