Lover | Richie Tozier

Chapter 19.

Elle
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"And so then he told the teacher on me for not sharing my stupid fucking crayons," Eddie scoffed, picking apart the bread on the sandwich in front of him. It came off in flakes between his fingers, eventually crumbling to the bottom of his tupaware without hope of being eaten.

Eating was the last thing on his mind, and the very first was spilling out years worth of stories that all encircled around the idea of him being a hypochondriac. "I shook like a crackhead going through withdraw or something. I'm serious. I hate getting in trouble. I hated that kid, too. How's he gonna get mad at me for not wanting his germs? And the fact that he wants mine? I'm pretty sure that's how STD's happen," he continued restlessly.

Beverly hadn't shown up to school the next day either and until she did, her spot was vividly filled by a very pensive Eddie sitting in front of me for the second day in a row - a new record for anybody that had ever crossed paths with him. Eddie's conversations captivated me in a way that Beverly and I's hadn't, though. Interactions with the familiar redhead all revolved around the same three things, but Eddie had quite a bit to say. He'd lived through even more that his stories couldn't do justice.

Both of my eyebrows raised upon my face, giving myself a better look at him.

"Then what? Did they call home?" I asked, peeling off another piece of the desert he had placed in the middle of the table. He didn't care in the slightest, though. This was ours now.

"Yeah, they did! And guess what, dude. You're not gonna believe this," he bargained, attempting to my lure my interest. It's as if he had been silenced all his life and the words that had been building up throughout the course of 16 years began spilling over his rim. With someone finally there to clean up the mess, he ceased to let it stop.

I leaned in and formed a grin that insisted he had my complete & undivided attention. "Tell me, Kaspbrak. What happened?"

He then went on to ramble about how his mom freaked out over the phone and would throw in some side-mutters about how he hid under his assigned table and cried because he was so embarrassed. Words high off of medication spun in the air without fault and for once, his voice became one with the others in the cafeteria.

And it wasn't just any voice; it was one that had a noticeable presence to it and sang with a tune of happiness that could only be recognized by children whose innocence had not yet been stripped from them yet. His voice allowed him to dream through every word he spoke without believing that any of it was impossible. In some cases, he'd speak with vocabulary that was equivalent to a med school graduate's, and other times, the child who Sonia tried to strip away still lived.

Holy shit, kid. You talk a lot. You and Richie would make great friends.

The reminder of the 6-letter name brought a heightened awareness to every one of my senses. Every quality of his rose in my mind again and held themselves up with the same infantile gentleness that he expressed when I touched up his lip. The look welcomed me to repeat my actions, this time through my memories.

The last I had seen him was the previous day when his searching eyes caught sight of Eddie & I and his face burned with confusion. Aside from personal insecurities, the confusion was entirely without blame and was probably shared by every other student in the room. Nobody ever sat with Eddie. Eddie never allowed anybody to sit with him.

"So, yeah. Long story short, that's how I found out I had asthma," Eddie concluded, bringing me back down from my reverie.

When visions of Richie faded out like the colored crescent after a rainstorm, I straightened my posture again. "Wow. Your mom sounds..." scary. Absolutely fucking terrifying. "Very caring."

He shrugged presumptuously while putting away his lunch. "She is. She's really caring. Too caring, sometimes."

He frowned for a few brief seconds before unzipping his infamous pack and pulling out a bottle of hand sanitizer. I held my hand out, already picking up on the cues he was lying down. Eddie accumulated a decent amount onto my hands and rubbed it in religiously when he was finished. His mouth twitched dangerously and it seemed to me like he was holding back a smile.

I courageously broke free in the beam he was so badly trying to hide. "Thanks, Eddie."

His cheeks burned a bright color and mimicked the same shade as the strawberry juice that found a home around his lips yesterday. The forbidden grin that he locked away into caves of insecurity made an appearance that stunned the world around him. "Of course, Elle. Anytime."

After assuring Eddie had gotten down the hall safely without the interference of Henry Bowers, I stood in front of my locker, making an effort to get out the desired spiral notebook I needed without sending the rest of them sliding out of their metal confinement. I held the surrounding notebooks with my fingers and closed one eye, slowly pulling it out with my tongue turned upwards for concentration.

It slid away freely without the disturbance of the objects around it.

"Wow, and I thought my pull-out game was good," Richie bantered, laughing at his shitty insinuation from behind my back.

My shoulders suddenly tensed up firmly having not been expecting a voice at all, let alone Richie's. I turned around slowly and met his electric eyes with mine. "You scared the fuck out of me. You can't just sneak up from behind people, you know," I glared narrowly. "That's how people get charged with manslaughter."

"Being up behind people is my specialty, sweetheart."

He tossed his thick black curls as he said this and they fell perfectly into place with the sensuous smirk he had brought amongst himself.

I grimaced, wanting to laugh, and shut my locker. I looked at the peculiar kid; how his eyes snaked their way around every inch of my face and chest with serpentine eagerness, shyly covering myself with the notebook after suddenly itching with insecurity at his attention to detail.

He took control over his eyes again once he realized how I was slowly caving in on myself. "Sorry, I wasn't trying to do that. I was just thinking and my eyes happened to fall on you and so-"

"Relax, Rich. Not everything you do has to be a mistake," I interjected. "You're allowed to look at the person you're conversing with. It's not like I'm gonna knock your face in because you breathed in my direction or something like Bowers does."

Before he could say anything more, I magnified my gaze towards him. Amethyst pigment could be seen rising around his lips in a swelling bruise. I winced, switching my notebook from one hand to the other, and laid a gentle finger under his chin while I examined him. "The cut is starting to show again. Do you need another touch up?"

He exhaled shakily, trying to comprehend this new feeling. Carefulness. "Y-Yeah. I mean if that's okay. You don't have to I just don't really want to go into class looking like..."

"You know where to go. Meet me in 5, alright? I'll see you there, Toaster," I flashed a gentle smile, walking away enigmatically and leaving Richie with a trembling bottom lip after the brush of his skin against mine.