streetlamps | richie tozier

chapter one

The smell of the girls locker room at Derry's middle school was similar, but not exact, to the smell of the one located off the side of the gym at Derry's high school. Upon entering, the clamour of chattering teenage girls echoes off the flaking walls.

I walk in trying not to draw any attention to myself; avoiding all contact with the prying eyes of my classmates, desperate for a new rumour to spread amongst each other.

"Spencer."

I whirl around. Standing in front of me is Erin Forrester. Her long blonde hair is placed perfectly over her shoulders. I'm pretty sure there's not a single strand where there's not supposed to be. Erin is most likely going to be ruling the school this year. Greta Bowie was pretty popular last year but I think she's run her course. Erin was popular last year too. But I'm very sure she got the boost she needed when she lost her virginity to Brad Weinstein at a beach party during summer break. As soon as that news spread, her throne at the top of the school had been scored.

"Hi Erin," I say. Her cool blue eyes run over my figure as I shuffle over to my gym locker.

"We're in the same gym class this year?" she sighs. Her head lolls back in a groan.

"I'm not too thrilled about it either Erin. Why don't you pull those gym shorts down past your ass to get rid of that massive camel-toe." I spit back at her. Her glare intensifies as she huffs and spins on the heel of her high top Converse to march back to her clump of friends.

"Bitch." She calls over her shoulder.

Erin and I had never really gotten along. I mean, we had. At one point. But we were never really friends. Two years ago she stole my notes for a class project and got an A on it. Things escalated, she stole my seventh grade boyfriend, we called each other some names, now we're here.

I change in the bathroom stalls as quickly as I can before rushing out to the centre of the gym. The other girls are lined up and I scuttle to the end of the line. On the opposite side of the gym is the boy's class. One of them is looking at me. Resting on top of the light freckles dusted across his face are a pair of incredibly thick glasses. They make his eyes look massive. He notices my glance and smirks. There's colour flushing my cheeks. The boy sees this too and winks. I'm pretty sure his name is Richie Tozier.