a corruption of the mind [r.t.]

4

— February 14th, 1993

     "Happy Valentines Day!" For the tenth time today, you got a little goodie bag from someone, feeling special that there were at least some people that would remember you. You got around quite a bit, talking to many people and introducing yourself to all of your classmates. The worst thing that could happen is having an awkward moment with your new seating buddy, so saying a simple "hi, my name is [Name]" makes it better. Hell, that's how you met Richie.

     "Damn, how come you get so many chocolates on Valentines Day? You literally only talk to me! That should drop your pop-points pretty low already, and the fact that you even get seen with me out of school? Ha, you'd basically be trash that a bully kicks around," Richie leans on your desk, batting his eyelashes, "so tell me, what's your secret?"

     "I talk to people other than you sometimes," you flick his forehead, pushing away a curl in the moment, "and also make it pretty obvious that I'm not dating you. Have you noticed that they're all from guys?"

     It was true, all of them were from guys. There was Roger, Kyle, Andrew, Logan, Parker, William, Danny, James, Troy, Nick, and Mark. Really, you didn't understand what they saw in you. You literally hung out with no one but Richie, and not to be rude, but he wasn't exactly the most popular guy around. Yeah, he was a bit of a loud mouth throughout his whole life, but by the time he reached high school he basically shut up. He made a few comments here and there, but he really wasn't in class, so people regarded him less. As you listened to all of his silly comments, you noticed a smaller looking boy staring at you from across the room, his brown eyes warming you.

     Eddie Kaspbrak, the kid with the inhaler, the guy who hadn't yet had his growth spurt, the boy who happened to have the biggest crush on you. It was known to anyone who knew you, and from what they heard, he had always liked you. You didn't mind it. He looked like he was gentle and lovely and actually clean unlike Mr. Curly who would not shut up and sit his booty down on the seat next to you.

     You looked over to him, and gave him the warmest smile you could muster while pulling Richie down by his sweatshirt pocket, down to his seat. He blushed red, and went to writing on his piece of paper. You shook your head, giggling to yourself at his antics. Richie just watched you, an awkward look on his face that caused the teacher to slap her ruler on his desk, nearly hitting him. He made some snarky comment that got him detention, but even the teacher knew that he would not even step foot near that classroom. Friday nights were spent with you watching classics and eating twenty pounds of popcorn.

     Class ended normally, with a Happy Valentines Day from the teacher and Richie's voice yelling, "make sure to use protection!" Followed with many laughs. Even so, it wasn't very normal for you. There was a tap on your shoulder as you packed up all of your stuff, including the many bags of chocolate that Richie had already started on.

     "H-Hey [Name], I wanted to give you this," in his hands was a little envelope and a box of chocolates in a heart shape, making you smile, "a-also I wanted to know if you would maybe, if you had some time after school, I don't know, maybe have ice cream with me? I'd tske you gone once you wanted to go home, I swear, I don't want to waste your time-"

     You stopped his rambling by touching his hand gently, smiling at his bright red face, his freckles somehow standing out more. You took the box in his hsnd and put the envelope gently in your pocket, making sure not to crease it. He smiled at this, knowing that you were very particular about paper.

     "Yes, of course I would go with you, you're so sweet! I could only go for a bit though, because I do have plans later on, but I will definitely go!" His smile was big and toothy, such a lovely view. You both decided on a place to meet up, and you made your way over to Richie, who was leaning against someone's locker in a sort of grumpy way. This is weird. He didn't get like this normally. You'd only seen him like this once, and that was because you told him about your tiny crush on Stuttering Bill during seventh grade. It went away once you told him it was tiny though, but now he seemed genuinely upset.

     "What's wrong Richie? You look a bit upset, do you want some more chocolates? I can get some out if you want-" he pulled out a cigarette, taking out a lighter until you ripped it out of his hand. By the time he reacted it was on the ground, under the sole of your shoe, and crushed into a flat piece of white paper. You looked up at him, now upset at him, and walked off to your next class. This, he always told himself, was the reason why he could never get angry at her. She cares for him, and mskes sure he is always okay just for him to not care. How could he ever be mad at her, she's literally perfect.

     "[Name], wait," he pulled her back by the arm, hearing her gasp, and pulling her up against him, "please forgive me, I'm sorry I was being such a jerk just now, I was just a bit jealous because you were talking to Eddie and you know what happened-"

     Only to find out that your gasp was from a cut opening up on your arm, making the soft blue sweater you had on become a bit purple at the ends. Your eyes came to meet his, feeling guilty and hugging him tight. Your eyes began to water, and you knew you were definitely not showing up to your next class.

     "How about we go over to Issac's car and get some stuff, then we don't speak about this again. How does that sound?" You smiled weakly, knowing he was trying his hardest to make you feel better. To make this whole situation better. Even though you were very against smoking, he would catch you lighting up a blunt. Normally only around finals, but occasionally whenever you felt emotional. This was the first time anything like this ever happened, but there's a first time for everything, right?

     So there you two were, in a corner of the back of the school, lighting it up and letting it all wash out. Letting his hand reach yours, entwining his fingers with yours and passing you the blunt, rubbing one of your fingers up and down. You grabbed it, lettibg the smoke travel through every little crevace inside you until you let it out. Your eyes closed, and a laugh came out. Then more, until you were laughing so hard even Richie was a bit worried. Those laughs were just a ruse, they were there to hide your tears. That way nobody would notice your intense sobbing, your pain.

     "Richie, I want to die."