streetlamps | richie tozier

chapter eight

"What the hell was I thinking?" I whine to Eddie as I fall back on my bed. He sighs and pats my arm.

"I dunno Spencer. Not smart things." he replies. I chuckle, although it comes out sounding forced; maybe it was.

"Well, what am I supposed to do? It's been almost three hours and he hasn't called." I groan. Eddie laughs.

"It's Richie. A regular guy wouldn't call in, like, a week. Richard Tozier... I have no idea how that mind, if there even is one, works." Eddie continues to flop down right beside me.

"You ever had a girlfriend Ed?" I mutter.

"Nope."

I sit up. "A boyfriend?"

"No! I'm not..."

"Okay, okay. Sorry." We look at each other and start laughing. Hard. Cackling so hard tears roll down our faces. We're gasping for breath. The fit comes out of nowhere and lasts for ages. Anytime we calm down and look at one another it sets us off again. It feels good to laugh, not too long ago I was thinking I wouldn't be laughing for a long time to come.

"You know what?" I say suddenly.

"Hm, what?" asks Eddie, regaining little composure.

"I'll make him jealous. I'll find a jerk to make him more jealous than..." I can't think of anything to finish off the sentence with.

"Spence, I really don't think this is a good idea, especially because of what the school thinks of you."

A thought snaps to me. "What does Bill think of me? Does he believe the rumours?"

Eddies head tilts downward. "He doesn't like you."

"Well I knew that, but does he believe all the bullshit?"

"Probably, yeah. But maybe Richie has told him it's not true. But he doesn't like you anyways."

I groan. But, it's just one more person. But it's Bill. He's friends with the rest of, well, all my friends. And maybe he says bad stuff to them about me. But since Eddie knows, the rest of them probably know.

"Great."

"Awesome," says Eddie. I smile. "He's never said anything bad about you to the rest of the guys."

"Good to know."

Eddie looks at me seriously, he takes my hand in his. "You and Richie need to figure this out. I'm not sure if I believe in soulmates, but if they are real, then you and Richie are a prime example. You compliment each other beautifully."

"Thanks Eddie."

~•~

I dream that Richie and I have spent a lifetime together, and we've lived our lives. We're older, settled down, retired. He sits next to me, reading. He didn't wear his glasses most of his life after college, but he's started wearing them again with age. His face turns to me and I can see delicate wrinkles hugging the sides of his eyes. He kisses my forehead.

I wake up. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why do I overreact? I stare into the looming shadows of my room for a long time, I don't trust myself to fall asleep and I forbid my mind from lingering on Richie. I miss him. Has it really only been two days?

My eyes swivel to the phone on my desk. It's pale pink and glowing in gentle moonlight streaming through my window. It sits in its cradle waiting for me to dial Richie's phone number. My mid rewinds to the night when he took me on his bike. The moon, the stars. Guiding.

My feet swing over the covers and plant on the floor. I reach for the phone and dial. It rings. And rings. Then the ringing stops, and there's a muffled "hello?"

"Richie?" I say, I'm trembling.

"Spencer."

"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry I overreacted. I shouldn't have-"

The phone clicks and I know he's hung up. I cautiously set the phone down, as if it could burst into flames and set me on fire if I were to be too careless with it. A part of me thinks that quite honestly I wouldn't mind being burnt to a crisp at the moment. Another part simply states: shut the fuck up and get over that dumbass.

I don't like either of them.