No One But You ✔️ Reddie

Four

Richie had rushed out of the arcade after Bowers had called him names, after he saw Bowers' cousin give him that filthy look. He'd been chased by Paul Bunyan, chased by the clown, taunted. 'I know your secret, your dirty little secret.'

Richie's heart sunk. His secret. Eddie. His best friend. His first love. The boy he hadn't seen since the Neibolt house, hadn't seen since Eddie's mum carted him off in her car. The look on her face was pure wrath. She'd never liked Richie at the best of times, but he was sure that she blamed him for Eddie's broken arm.

'At least Eddie is alive,' Richie mumbled to himself. 'No thanks to fucking Bill.'

He'd believed Eddie was going to die. Saw the pure horror on Eddie's face and tried to take it away. 'Look at me, Eddie,' he'd screamed, prising his chin around. He didn't want the last thing Eddie saw to be It. If Eddie was going to die in that house, then he'd die looking at Richie, with Richie right there in front of him.

Richie found himself at the kissing bridge. He traced the letters carved there by some unknown couple, hopelessly in love, unafraid of their love, kissing openly, proudly. His heart plunged, knowing he could never kiss Eddie like that here. Not even if he did have the guts to tell Eddie how he felt. That was the way it was in Derry.

But then, he had kissed Eddie here, he supposed. It wasn't a romantic moment, they weren't a couple, and it wasn't even on the lips. On the cheek, and Eddie had laughed. But Richie had kissed him. And it might well be the only time he ever would. It was then, right as he'd pulled away, that he'd realised, truly realised, that he was smitten. That had to count for something. Maybe it could count for everything.

Richie fumbled in his pockets for his penknife. Carefully, watching over his shoulder and praying that nobody saw him, he carved in an R, then a plus sign. With a heaving sigh, he slowly carved an E. The only declaration he could make, the only acknowledgement he dared to put into the world. Panicked, he scarpered.

He started to run. He didn't realise where he was going until he was standing outside the front door. He raised his hand to knock, but he knew that Sonia Kaspbrak would send him packing, even if Eddie was inside. He peered to the side of the house where he knew Eddie's room looked out. There was a tree. A climbable tree.

'I should just go,' Richie tried to tell himself. But the ache in his chest begged him to stay. As long as It was in Derry, then Eddie and Richie were both in danger. Kids went missing, kids died. He couldn't tell Eddie how he felt, but he could spend time with him, as much time as they had left. That could be enough. It had to be enough.

He started to climb.

Eddie was in bed, still. He looked at the cast on his arm, at the word marked there in black ink. A word he and his friends had tried to claim and reclaim. It hurt to look at it now. Maybe because it was put there by someone trying to hurt him, but maybe because he didn't feel like one of the Losers club at the moment. Not while he was holed away in his room, kept from them all, kept from Richie.

His stomach gurgled, and he rolled onto his side. He missed Richie so much. But those feelings had to be pushed down, had to be translated somehow back into a friendship. Maybe some time apart would help that to happen. After all, that wasn't the way you were supposed to feel about your best friend. That was the way he was supposed to feel about a girl.

'I am sick after all,' Eddie said sadly to himself.

Then there was a tap at the window. Eddie's spine prickled as his mind went instantly to the clown. He told himself it was the wind knocking the branches of the trees.

'Eddie,' a voice came muffled through the glass. It definitely wasn't a tree, but it didn't sound like Pennywise.

Eddie twisted around. 'Richie?' he squeaked.