4 of a Kind

2 - 'Maths'

(This takes place from right were ch 1 left off, also sry for the late update)

-peter pov-

He gives an awkward wave, before heading towards the back of the class. He ends up taking a seat right across from me. I try not to look at him, trying to not draw attention towards him as he is the new kid. But I can't help myself as my eyes dart to look at him after a few minutes. But what's odd is I found him looking back at me. So I speak up.

"Uh... I'm Peter," I say, and then he holds out his hand. So I grab it and shake it.

"I'm Richie," He says and then grins like he's up to no good, but not in a bad way I feel like.

"Yeah, I know. You kinda just introduced yourself to the entire class." I point out.

"O-Oh... right." He lets go of my hand, and shoves it into his pocket. "Um... so what classes do you have?" Richie asks me, and I pull out my schedule.

"Oh uh... just, here." I hand him my schedule, and he holds up his own to compare them. After a minute he hands mine back.

"Cool, we have AP math together, plus the same lunch. Least I'll know someone in one of my classes. Oh, and have someone to sit with during lunch..." Richie falters, before his gaze falls to his desk. "U-Um... that is if you w-want to hang out with me. My friends before I moved... they, well then-" I cut him off before he starts rambling. Because as I know from experience, rambling turns into venting, and that turns into spiraling, which leads to numerous other things, depending on the person.

"Richie, it's okay. I don't- I won't mind hanging with you. And you can sit with us at lunch." I say, and Richie looks back up at me.

"Really? Because where I used to live... I felt like my 'friends'," he put air quotes around the word friends. "Only really had me around to make fun of me behind my back... called me names, and..." He starts to trail off, so I reach over and tap him on the shoulder a few times. He snaps out of it, and focuses back on me, smiling a bit.

"Uh... thanks."

-time skip-

It was now History, which I had with Eddie. It was also fourth period, which means I have AP math next, with Richie. But Eddie had english. With Flash.

I get to history before Eddie, and take our usual seat in the back of class. Soon Eddie walks in, and quickly makes his way towards me. He dumps his stuff on the desk before slouching down in his chair and pulling his hood over his face.

"Eddie?" I ask, but he shoves his hands into his sweatshirt pocket.

"I-I don't wanna talk about it." He says, his voice cracking slightly. He sounded almost on the verge of tears. I'm probably gonna bug him about it later. It's better to get it off your chest then keep it wound up there. Trust me, I speak from experience.

"Okay..." I say and turn back to face the front of the class. Then, Mr. Anderson walked in and started class. But all throughout, I heard Eddie sniffling. But I learned that when it comes to Eddie, pushing when he's... in this state, he tends to shut you out. So I'm going to wait.

When class ended, Eddie took his hood down and gathered up his stuff. But he knocked his pencil off his desk when he reached for it to put it into his pencil case.

He mutters a not-so-friendly word under his breath, before crouching down to get it. But as soon as he does so, he winces in pain and clutches his side.

"Eddie!" I exclaim, and bend down with him. "Are you- are you okay...?" My voice gets significantly quieter when I see the tears in Eddie's eyes, and the purple bruise underneath his right eye. "Eddie..." I reach for him but he stands up and grabs his stuff. Then he walks out of the room, leaving me standing alone in the empty room.

    -time skip to next period-

As I walk into history, I see Richie sitting at a desk near the front of class. And the desks were configured in three rows facing the front of the class. Two desks side-by-side in each row, going all the way to the back of the class. But the one Richie was sitting in, it was right in front of the ones that two of Flash's friends usually sit at. And anyone who sits there gets picked on the entire class by them. And the two of them never get in trouble for it. Probably because Flash's family and a few others practically own the school. But anyone who came to class last always got stuck there.

So, being the good person that I am, I grab Richie's arm on my way to the back of class, and end up dragging him out of the seat he was in. But lucky for him he had been holding his stuff in his arms so he hadn't left it at the desk.

"Ow- oh, hey Peter," Richie says, and then sits down. "You got one strong grip," He comments and then I remember that I have "super strength". Idiot, I could have hurt him!

"Hey," I say, and set my stuff down at my desk. Richie does the same at an empty desk across from mine, and we both sit down. But as soon as I do my thoughts wander. Is Eddie gonna be okay? He left in such a rush, and I can't help but feel like he was mad at me for something...

"Pete?" I look over at Richie, but after the nickname registered in my brain, I gave him a confused look.

"'Pete'?" I ask, and Richie looks down at his hands.

"O-Oh... well I- uh... nickname." He finally gets out, nodding his head.

"Okay then..." I say, and just then two kids walk into class. They're the last ones. Guess you know what that means. I watch from the back of the class as they take their seats at the 'Taunting Table'.

"Um... Peter?" I turn to face Richie, and he continues. "Earlier... in homeroom, you mentioned an 'us' when you said I could sit with you during lunch? Who were you referring to, exactly?" He asks me and I smile, thinking about him meeting Eddie- oh, right. Eddie... I hope he's okay...

"I was talking about my brothe- my foster brother, Eddie." I reply. "He's, well- you'll love him when you meet him. He's... adorable in a concerned sorta way." I say and Richie looks as if he's building a mental profile on Eddie, but also trying to understand what 'adorably concerning' means.

"Cool, can't wait to meet him." Richie says, and pushes his glasses up on his face. "Now," he turns towards the front of the class, placing his hands in a posh position on the surface of his desk. "Let's do some maths." He says in a British accent, with a slight lisp on the word 'maths'. I laugh at his antics.

"Let's indeed."