stanley truly had no idea what happened for the next twenty minutes.
when beverly asked him later, he could not remember what happened. he thought that maybe he had made out with betty for a couple minutes, but apparently it had been twenty. he didn't know. his head ached.
"so? did you guys do anything?" beverly grilled him, the two sitting on the porch of greta's house. stanley had apparently stumbled down the stairs and fallen into a wall. bill had dragged him outside, but didn't wanna stay outside, so he got beverly. she wasn't complaining, instead sitting there and smoking.
"i don't... i don't know? i think i might've touched her boobs? i... i'm not sure." stanley said, his head in his hands. he groaned, beverly rolling her eyes and sitting back on her hands.
"how do you not remember!? jesus, it must have been really bad or something. immediate repression." beverly smoked and tapped a bit of the ash off of her cigarette.
"i have never had memory loss like this, christ," stanley muttered, beverly rubbing her hand up and down stanley's back.
"here you are, you motherfuckers," richie came out of the place and sat down next to stanley. he took a drink out of his solo cup and winced. stanley looked up and raised an eyebrow, and richie put his cup in front of stanley's nose. stanley smelled it and gagged. richie smiled, "i have no fucking clue what's in this cup. connor gave it to me and told me i looked stressed."
"there is no way that's safe." stanley commented, watching as richie handed the cup to beverly and she took a drink. she held it out to stanley and, possibly because this night was already very strange, he took it and took a sip. it was not a great drink.
"so, richie, you talked to greta yet?" beverly grinned, and richie gave a fake little laugh. he grimaced, and stanley looked to him with concern.
"yeah, i think she hates me." richie fiddled with his thumbs, and stanley put the cup down. beverly opened her mouth, but richie kept talking, "i think i might be gay."
okay, so two bombs today. three counting bill and beverly's breakup. this was fine. this was fine! stanley could do this.
"are you sure? it might just be that you're not into greta, she's kind of a dick--" beverly said, richie shaking his head.
"no, no i've been thinking about this for a while. anyway, i told her that, and uh, she didn't take it too well." richie looked at the ground, and stanley shuffled his shoe closer to richie's.
"you know that it's cool with us. you're richie. we'll always love you, man," stanley said, tapping the side of his shoe into richie's. richie looked up, at stanley, and gave him the smallest of smiles.
beverly got up and patted richie on the back, "yeah, what he said. i'm gonna go back inside for a bit," she waved and the two boys nodded. as she wandered back inside, richie put his head on stanley's shoulder.
"you're... you're a good friend, stanley." richie mumbled. stanley's face reddened again, only this time he wasn't sure why. stanley, as much as he didn't want to, finally just unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, letting him breathe normally.
"thanks, rich." stanley replied.
"do you mind if i smoke?" richie asked, and stanley shook his head lightly. he did sorta mind, because his clothes would smell like cigarette smoke, but he figured he could stay over at richie's and shower, or something.
richie lit a cigarette and inhaled, his head off of stanley's shoulders. he slumped.
"stan, i'm nervous." richie tapped his foot up and down. stanley looked, confused. richie went on, "greta said she wouldn't tell anyone, but i don't trust her. what if... what if she... and i'm not even sure!" richie groaned and put his head in his cigarette-less hand.
"i... if she says anything, i'll kill her," stanley joked, richie laughing quietly and elbowing stanley.
richie looked at stanley, like, really looked. he pretty much stared at him, stanley looking back. stanley glanced away, but richie kept looking at him.
"what?" stanley asked, red in the face and feeling very drowsy.
not like this.
richie looked away and gulped.
"nothing." richie replied, lying down on the concrete steps.
-
"stan, wait!" eddie yelled just in time, as stanley was about to step into the car. instead, he turned around and hesitantly walked towards eddie and mike, who were just coming out of the house.
"look, your guys' business is your own, i just wasn't expecting-" stanley said, tugging at his polo.
"no, no you saw something that was, uh, out of context." mike interrupted him and looked to eddie nervously, who nodded.
"yeah, you're just drunk, you know, it doesn't matter," stanley started, turning around. before he could start walking away, mike grabbed his arm.
"no, we're not just drunk. but we're also not together, and like, absolutely not planning on it." eddie proclaimed, his hands shaking.
"i don't like eddie like that."
"and i don't like mike like that," "but, um, we do have... one thing in common"
eddie looked past stanley, who glanced behind him. in front of the car was bill, laughing loudly at something richie had said. bill glanced over to the three of them and motioned, as if to say, 'are you coming?' and it clicked.
"oh,"
"yeah. uh, if you could not tell anyone," eddie scratched the back of his head.
"of course. i... don't worry about it."
