golden boy : stozier

nine

"you know, i don't really know what you were going on about, they're nice." stanley was watching his door, cautiously, afraid a parent might walk by, as he spoke on the phone. he was peeling his shoes off of his feet, sat on the bed. he heard richie sigh.

"yeah, i mean, we aren't normally like that. like, friends, that is." richie sounded a lot more emotionless now that he was back home. stanley had a feeling he'd gotten his first glimpse of what richie was really like at the beach. he'd been cracked open, by the pounding waves of the ocean.

"what do you mean?" stanley inquired, listening for any kind of change in tone in richie's voice. clearly something had changed in the time he'd gotten out of bill's car to now.

richie cleared his throat, "uh, the summer tends to warm people up, right? well, bill's got a little brother that died, and he died in the winter time, so bill's just an absolute rock in like, december. but the warmer it gets, the nicer he gets, and he sorta leads our whole schbang." he paused. stanley's mouth hung agape and he stayed silent in shock. "i probably shouldn't have told you that about bill's brother, uh, ignore that. but anyway, if he's nicer, beverly is in a better mood, and mike's happy, and they don't hate me as much."

"they don't seem to hate you," stanley said. he thought about how richie and mike seemed to get along well, if it weren't for bill sometimes. stanley got the sense beverly and mike would both follow bill in a heartbeat. richie didn't have the same instinct.

"sometimes, yeah. but they don't ever really seem to like me." richie clicked his tongue a couple times, drumming his nails restlessly.

"i do." stanley said.

"yeah?" the noise stopped.

stanley exhaled softly, "yeah."

"cool. that's rare. anyway, they seem to like you." richie continued on, like what stanley had said had hardly mattered at all. he confused stanley, flipping from apathetic to grateful to apathetic in half a second. stanley turned his head to the ground, watching dust move along the floor.

"well yeah, everyone seems to like me richie, that's sort of my whole thing." stanley replied, wishing he could see richie in person. it had only been about thirty minutes, and yet he was already missing the curve of richie's smile.

"i guess that's fair. so why don't you have any friends, like, if everyone likes you?" richie's question caused a silence for a moment. stanley gulped. richie was mean again. 

"oh. um, i don't know." stanley answered, chewing on his bottom lip. it wasn't appropriate to start crying, to say, i don't know, they just keep leaving me, and it definitely wasn't to say, i'd do anything for you to be different. he felt his eyes watering nonetheless.

"you wanna know what i think?" richie's tone almost scared stanley. he seemed too careless, like he was lying down, staring at the ceiling seeing red. 

stanley didn't answer.

"i think you're a suck up. i think you change everything you do so that people will like you but it doesn't matter because you're not really being yourself. that doesn't mean i don't like you, or that you're a bad person, it's just that you can't help trying to be someone else." richie's answer was as straightforward and emotionless as stanley had expected. he sighed, hoping to stop the tears from leaving. he stared upwards.

"blunt." his voice cracked, failing to hide as he hoped. 

"i try." richie still didn't seem to care. it was like he changed the moment he got home. if him and richie lived together, maybe he would not be so cruel. 

"well, since you've given your unsolicited advice on my life, let's see if you can take it, yeah?" stanley's voice gave him away as always, more gritty than he'd hoped. he wiped the side of his face with his hand, lit aflame with anger by richie's carelessness. like he knew him. richie knew nothing about him. who was he to talk?

"alright."

"i think you make yourself out to be this person who isn't affected by the fact that his friends don't like him, or that his parents think he's a disgrace, but i think you beat yourself up at night for not doing better than you are. i think you're a bit of an ass sometimes, but you are funny, and nice, and i wish you wouldn't hate yourself." stanley could hear the hurt in his voice. he wondered if richie could, or if he pretended not to notice. 

"hm. you're probably right." richie replied, deadpan.

stanley groaned, "god, and you can't even care enough to agree or disagree with me." he wiped his eyes again with his hand, unable to help crying.

"i'm sorry, stan, i just don't care much about anything." 

stanley inhaled shakily, "you're the only person in my life who calls me stan." 

"yeah, because i'm lazy." richie shrugged it off. 

fine. be that way. stanley bit his nails. 

"whatever. i just wanted to say i think your friends are nice, okay? and i think you're nice, and i'm sorry i called you an ass, and i'm going to go now because i hate the sound of myself crying and i can hear it echoing through the phone. and i have homework to do. goodbye." stanley said.

"sorry," richie mumbled as stanley hung up, stanley only catching the first syllable. he put his phone down on his desk and began to cry harder, his hands rubbing over his eyes.