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#1: ʀɪᴄʜɪᴇ ᴛᴏᴢɪᴇʀ ꜱᴜᴄᴋꜱ ꜰʟᴀᴍᴇʀ ᴄᴏᴄᴋ

"Mrs. Kaspbrak is so fucking large that she was floating in the ocean one day and Spain claimed her for their new world," I balled up a small piece of scrap paper. It may have had my homework from last night on it, but it was too late to check. I heaved my arm back and plummeted the paper toward Eddie. "Isn't that right, Eds?"

The paper made a distinct rustling noise as it collided gently with the back of his head, before dropping to the ground. I watched as the tips of Eddie's ears reddened in embarrassment. He narrowed his eyes and kept his head directed to the board. Even though I sat behind him, I could almost visualize the facial expression he had. "Shut up, Richie."

Bill tried to stifle his laughter. Considering he was supposed to be the responsible one, he shoved my chair with the heel of his foot. He did that in class most days, when he wanted me to be quiet. 

The teacher simply glanced up momentarily from the worksheet she was grading, a distinct grey eyebrow raising. She stared for a second and I pursed my lips shut. "Watch your language, Mr. Tozier."

I simply grinned and gave her a challenging stare. But alas, I didn't have time for any backtalk today, especially not with someone like her. It was wasted potential, to be a smartass with a teacher. When she seemed satisfied with my gaze, she glanced back down to her work.

I quickly grabbed my pencil and began to scribble across my notebook, making a large circle over the center of the page.

I could sense Bill's stare over my shoulder, and he was trying his best to get a look at the paper. When he noticed that I knew he was watching, he turned the tables. "Wh-what are you d-doing this t-time, t-trashmouth?"

I shrugged to myself, using a pink colored pencil to color in the center of a dress I was drawing. I sketched another large circle above the top one, smirking a toothy grin to myself, even though I was the only one who could see it perfectly well. "Whatever the hell I want to, now shut up, before she sends us both to detention."

Bill impatiently swatted his legs up to kick the back of my chair again, but this time I ignored him and finished the drawing of a rather fat woman in a long dress that came down to her ankles. Mischievously drawing an arrow, I labeled the masterpiece "your mom" in large, messy letters.

I don't know why I was always so desperate for Eddie's attention; it was a weird anti-repelling situation. I didn't like being away from him. And I didn't like it when he carries long conversations with somebody else. And it was odd, when I was away from him, he was on my mind more than anybody else. Everything connected to Eddie in the end, and I had no clue as to why.

He was my best friend, and that's all he's been for a while. Everyone knows us as such. Richie and Eddie. Richie the douchebag, Eddie the asthmatic. Two peas in a pod that can't stand holding a conversation with one another. Best friends.

Even so, "Eddie would do this" or "That sounds like something Eddie would say" are certain things that run through my mind on a daily basis, even when I'm not around Eddie. I couldn't wrap my head around it, and I couldn't get passed it, but it was okay. It wasn't bothering anybody. At least, it wasn't in the moment.

I balled up the paper carefully and timed my aim. I never played basketball during PE, but this was different. I actually tried for this. I gently pulled my wrist back and pushed the paper in the air, watching as it skimmed Eddie's shoulder and landed on the desk.

Instinctively, I folded my hands and stared down at my notebook, just in case the teacher happened to look up. When I noticed she was still preoccupied, I shot Bill a sly thumbs-up, to which he rolled his eyes and ignored.

Eddie flinched stiffly and turned around to pierce his eyes at me. When I felt his stare, I propped my feet up on a chair and pretended like I was staring at a bird outside with a knowing smirk still on my face. 

Eddie carefully unwrapped the paper and inhaled sharply, his eyes narrowing. A scowl slowly set in on his expression and he almost seemed as if he was going to get off his seat and walk over to me. Which, part of my mind was hoping he would. I was intrigued to see what he would do. "Go fuck yourself, Richie Tozier."

I was surprised the teacher didn't hear such vulgar language from Eddie in such a quiet classroom, but she almost always  heard it from me. Amused, it was only polite to continue a conversation.

"A'ight, a'ight, sweetheart, but you can have a treat and watch."

Eddie made a repulsed expression and folded his arms, a deep red complexion settling on his cheeks and nose. He opened his mouth and closed it once more, turning back around in his seat. He kept his stare on the table as he crumpled the drawing back up. "You wish."

I sensed more annoyed stares. Not only did I receive them from Stan and Bill, who were seated relatively close to my eye view, but from the rest of the classmates, simply trying to do their work. 

In school, I was a dick when I wanted to be; and I wanted to be.

I opened my mouth once more, ready for another immediate retort, but I was left being shoved in the back of the chair by Bill's white converse. When I turned back to look at him, I earned an annoyed stare. He mouthed the words "leave him alone" with narrowed eyebrows, but I knew he wouldn't push it if I ignored him.

The teacher looked up from the slight disturbance and her gaze met mine, her grey eyebrows lowering so low that they practically touched the top of her eyelids. I blinked away from the glance when it got uncomfortable, and she went back to skimming another paragraph in the worksheet.

I was prepped to try to reach Eddie's chair with my outstretched foot, but was overwhelmed by a sudden feeling of a sharp strike on the corner of my shoulder, that seemed to reach a certain height before planting itself down on my desk. 

After flinching quite rapidly, I glanced down at the contents in front of me. A small scrap of lined paper was folded over in a circular shape. I carefully picked it up with my fingers and unwrapped the inside as if it were a present. Inside the paper was a stone, no bigger than the center of my palm. It was probably used to gain some speed to throw the paper itself.

I glanced behind myself and trailed my eyes over the back of the classroom. Sitting in the corner with his feet propped up on a chair, was Henry Bowers, snickering and sneering to himself. 

Henry was the one type of person you didn't want to mess with. The one person's bad side you'd rather not be on. And I was on it. I'd been on it since grade school. And even back then, Henry was still a stone-cold, psychotic asshole. I guess he hasn't changed much.

He had his hands behind his head, with a knowing and rather insulting expression on his face. He sat perched and menacing, like a murder waiting to happen.

I squinted my eyes as he lightly tapped his buddy Patrick, who sat beside him, in the need of a laugh or a reaction. Patrick met my eyes and began to chuckle along with Henry, which made me feel like the smallest person in the world.

Turning back toward my desk, I unfolded the lined note, and adjusted my glasses with my free hand, pushing them farther up my nose to get a better vantage point to see. Written in messy and quick handwriting, were the most used and uncreative words I'd ever read. Even so, they made my heart race and my ears go a deep shade of burgundy. I didn't know why, but they did. 

Henry was easily the type of person to be manipulative, but his first-hand harassment seemed to have me in a chokehold now. I bit the inner corner of my cheek so I wouldn't tear up, because that would be fucking stupid. I blinked the oppression away.

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