Wait For It || Reddie ✔️

one

as of 11/26/2024 i'm rewriting this as a writing practice so if the story jumps and the writing becomes worse that is why <3 also you'll know updated vs not based on the different chapter titles :)

Eddie slumbered away in bed, rolled up tight in his thin sheets. Mid-morning summer sunlight streamed peacefully in through the window. His bedroom was silent save for his quiet, slow breathing. Behind his eyelids played a watery dream where the edges of Richie's skin blurred between reality and fantasy, playing smoothly until clunking against his window pulled him from his sleep.

Staring at the closed doors of his closet, Eddie became disgustingly aware of how horribly hot it was under his sheets. Throwing them off, his skin cooled with the chilled air pumping throughout his house. Then: clunk.

Clunk-clink

Eddie twisted around in bed and stared at his window. Vivid imagery flashed through his head, the logical side of his brain trying to decipher what was happening. Men on the roof next door with heavy belts looped around their hips, tools and rope strapped securely in case of a slipped foot and lost balance; a poor bird with its inability to see windows; the garbage truck lumbering down the road--

Thud

Ah, Eddie thought, it's rocks. And rocks pelting his window must mean one thing.

Clamoring out of bed, Eddie rushed to his window, the curtains already pushed aside because he forgot to close them the night before. Good thing his mother fell asleep early watching television, because, boy, if she caught those curtains open and letting the sunlight in, warming the bedroom she pays so much money to keep cold..

Underneath his window, Eddie caught Richie bending over, his knobby knees opening outwards as he searched the garden beds for more pebbles. Eddie's face scrunched and he knocked on his window with his knuckles, the hollow sound quickly catching Richie's attention, the boy shooting his head upward. A smile bloomed on his face and he waved energetically.

Eddie rolled his eyes and made sure Richie caught it. Leaving the window, he went to his closet, remembered the window and quickly went back to throw the curtains in place. Getting ready hastily, Eddie dressed, brushed his teeth, and grabbed his trusty fanny pack that had a home on the doorknob of his bedroom door. As he jumped down the steps, he fumbled a hand around inside to double check for his medication and inhaler and band-aids and--

"Eddie," came his mother's voice, high-pitched and grating. "Is that you?"

"Yes, Ma."

"Up so late, are we? Are you feeling alright?"

"Yes, Ma."

Rounding the banister and entering the kitchen, his mother sat at the table with a cup of steaming coffee and the newspaper laid flat in front of her. "Hungry?" she asked, peering at him from behind her large glasses that caught the morning sunlight in a bright, white firework.

"No, Ma. Can I go out with my friends today?"

He watched dismally, yet not surprised, as her gaze hardened ever so slightly. The hand that was frozen above the newspaper flexed before falling into her lap. "You know I don't like it when you leave the house so early. All that pollen in the air."

Eddie looked at the clock hanging on the wall. "It's ten in the morning. I think I'm fine!"

She clicked her tongue. "I don't think so. Do you want pancakes?"

"Ma," Eddie whined. His leg jingled with the urge to stomp it; to pout and moan and groan. But, being as old as he is now, he swallowed his annoyance and put on a brave, mature face. "Ben is outside waiting for me. Can I please go with him today?"

This, as he knew, piqued her interest. "Ben?" she repeated. She always liked Ben. Thought he was sweet and caring; smart and mature. The opposite of Richie, a boy Eddie knew his mother despised. "Off to the library again?"

"Yes," Eddie agreed. "He wants to see if they've got the new Stephen King book out yet."

"There's a new one? I haven't heard so."

"So, can I go?"

He watched as his mother inhaled, her eyes flickering up and around. "I guess so," she sighed, filtering in a saddened tone. "Grab a granola bar before you leave."

"Yes, Ma," Eddie said, trying to cover up his jolting feet with a sense on nonchalantness as he crossed the kitchen. Before he could reach the front door, he heard, "I want you back before lunch!"

"Yes, Ma!" he shouted behind his shoulder as he stepped outside into the prickling heat. It felt as though he was back in his bedroom and under his covers, the sunlight so hot and strong in his eyes. The sky was a brilliant blue, not a cloud in sight. The grass tall and sharp, a vibrant green. Crossing his lawn, Eddie followed the siding of his house until he rounded the corner to the side his bedroom overlooked.

"Rich?" he called, stalling when he found the boy. Richie was in the garden bed, lips peeled back as he silently squealed out in pain, arms bent in awkward directions to avoid the thorns on the rose bushes. At the absurdity, Eddie felt a rush of annoyance. "What are you doing?" he hissed, his voice laced with the rising anger. "My mom's roses!"

"Fuck," Richie whisper-yelled as he tumbled his way out. "Look, your mom was in the kitchen and she almost spotted me! What else could I have done?"

"I don't know, Richie, bike away?"

"I panicked!"

Eddie clicked his tongue, flashing his eyes away in a dramatic eye-roll. "You're so unbelievable sometimes. How are you even in our graduating class?"

"That's fucking rude, Eds," Richie said, though a satisfied smile pulled at his lips. "Get your bike, we're gonna be late."

Eddie pulled in a breath and turned around, saying, "Getting it."