streetlamps | richie tozier

chapter nine

"Spencer Vernon."

I slowly turn on my heel and Erin is walking towards me.

"What?"

"I heard about you and the trashbag." she says.

"How do you know about that already?" I ask her slowly.

"Well he came in the lobby and basically declared to all he broke up with you and—"

"He said that he broke up with me?" I growl. I can see in Erin's face she's content with my reaction. But, quite honestly, I don't really know who broke up with who. Maybe it was mutual. But isn't mutual when both of the people feel the same way about their relationship even after it's ended?

I push past her and storm around the corner. I march down the hall to Richies locker. He's probably not going to talk to me, especially after our phone call last night. I run into Ben on my way down the corridor.

"Hey Spence," he says.

"Oh, hi Ben."

"How was your weekend?" he says. His rosy cheeks surround a sunny smile. He hasn't heard yet.

Poor, sad Ben. What an angel.

"Pretty shitty Ben, to be honest." I reply, eyes not meeting his but squinting to see the tiny little line that is Richies locker at the very opposite end of the hallway.

"Oh, why? If you mind me asking."

Oh Ben, I love you man.

"Richie and I broke up. I called him last night to talk about it; he hung up on me." I sigh. My eyebrows raise and my mouth forms a thin line. I hate it when people make that face, but I do it too often.

"That is shitty. I'm sorry." his shoulders lower a little bit. It's so sweet how he feels sorry for me. I feel sorry for me too. Actually, I pity myself, and that's worse. The bell rings suddenly and instantly Ben's saying he's got to get to class but he'll talk to me about it at lunch if I'd like. I would like that, I say. And then he's hustling down the hall.

I slump through my classes. Richie avoids eye contact with me through all of them.

During Home Ec we're making berry muffins. Richie, Stan and I are put together in a group with another girl I've never actually talked to. She smells sort of... soggy? Anyway, when we've put the muffins in the oven and start the clean up I put down my hand on the stove. I screech. And then it turns out Soggy Smelling Girl had turned on the stove not the oven. Tears are streaming down my face and the palm of my hand is pulsing and throbbing and the colour of a fire truck. My teacher tells Richie to take me down to the office nurse. I'm about to protest but my hand is hurting so fucking bad I couldn't get any words out of my mouth. I expect Richie to say something but he doesn't. He only puts a hand on my upper back to guide me out of the class. Stanley gives me that look. His mouth makes the line. "Yikes"

The nurse tells me I have a first degree burn. She tells me to expect minor blistering. While she goes off to find some coherent bandages Richie and I are left alone sitting on the cot.

"Are you okay?" he asks. His eyes are on the floor.

"I should be fine." I mutter. My eyes are also on the floor.

"Yeah, but are you okay right now?" he says. His face lifts to me and his worried chocolate eyes are focused on my face. I nod. All good.

The nurse comes back in. She wraps up my hand and gives me some extra.

"Why don't you go home, sweetheart?" she says to me. Her lips are small and drawn together to form a sort of pucker. She's wearing to much blush and her graying hair flys out in small bundles of strands from her low ponytail.

"Do I really need to?" I ask.

"Well, no but I'll let you off if you'd like." She winks. I smile and tell her okay. She lets me off. The period's almost over.

"Can I come with you?" asks Richie as we head out into the hallway. "I want to talk with you."

"Sure," I say. He goes upstairs and grabs his bag and then comes back down when the bell's rung. We leave casually.

"So how have you been doing?" asks Richie. Wow.

"How have I been doing?" I ask myself, out loud. "Not fantastic."

"Because of the fight?" asks Richie, he turns to me, eyebrows raised. "Me too."

Well, I'm glad we've been feeling the same way. But there's another thing on my mind. "Why did you tell people you broke up with me?" I ask him. " I mean, from my understanding no one really broke up with anyone specifically, we just kinda ended it-"

"We broke up?"

My eyes widen and I stare at him. "That wasn't a break up?" I'm gaping at him.

"Relationships have their ups and downs, Spence." he replies. We turn a corner.

"I told you to not come back ever. And you left." Fuck. I feel that lump in my throat making itself known.

"And I shouldn't have left. I also shouldn't have hung up on you last night. I was a total dick."

"Glad you know," I laugh. "Not that I wasn't being a dick too."

"Can girls be dicks?"

"Shut it Richie, we're making up" I snap. He smiles and his cheeks redden. We're almost at my house. I swivel my bag around to the front and pull out a pack of cigarettes from a slit in the back of my backpack. My little hiding space. I pull one out and light it with a lighter that is in the pack. It's hard to light it with my bandaged hand so Richie flicks the lighter alive while I hold the cigarette in my mouth.

"How long have we been together Spence?" asks Richie, lifting the cigarette from my fingers and taking a drag himself.

"You're implying we're still together." I say, taking back the cigarette. I blow zeros from my lips and Richie looks over at me, impressed.

"Are we not still together? Did we break up? Do you want to break up?" The eyes behind the glasses flicker with concern. It hurts me.

"Of course I still want to be together Richie, don't be dumb." He grins that big grin of his.

"I'm coming to get you tonight." he says.

"What?"

"To go on another bike ride. Like the first night." I drop the cigarette and step on it.

"To do what?" I ask, smirking. Richie blushes hard.

"Make-up sex?" he asks, mostly joking. We're at my porch now. My finger glides up his stomach to his neck. My hand then traces his face. I lean forwards and my breath falls softly on his lips when I whisper to him, why wait for tonight?

We have fun, Richie and I.