Brushstrokes (Reddie AU)

School.

I hate waiting.

I hate, hate, hate waiting.

Because now I'm sat outside the guidance counsellor's office, while Eddie is inside, and I have no idea why. I'm scared that he's in trouble for something I did. Because, if I'm being honest, I cause a lot of shit. And sometimes the blame is placed on others. And sometimes I don't own up to it, and then another boy is known for throwing a marker at Mrs. Lincoln in sixth grade.

After fiddling with my fingers, reading through twitter and even texting my mother about needing to go grocery shopping, Eddie finally emerges. He's got a shy little smile on his face as he looks to me.

"I have good news and bad news," he says.

I hate sentences that start like that. They can never lead to anything too great. But he looks like he's going to give the good news first, so...

"I was called down to the office because apparently I have appealed to certain universities because...of my paintings. I had applied to some schools just as a dream sort of thing, but I've got accepted into...my dream school."

Holy fucking shit.

I'm not going to college, and my boyfriend got his dream school? I stand up and immediately hug him. I'm so proud it feels like my bones have melted and I'm going to vomit them up. "That's amazing! I'm so fucking proud of you, you little shit! I was so scared you were going to say something horrible has happened." I kiss him very quickly, but he doesn't kiss back.

Oh boy.

And for a good few seconds I forget about the bad news.

"It's university, Rich. And I...I won't be leaving for over a year. But I think...when we do, I think I need to be leaving alone. And...I think it would be best if by the time I leave, we aren't together. I love you, but I want the full college experience. I don't want to have you tied down either. You can do anything you want, honey. Even if I'm at Yale."

Sometimes when we're sad we block out the parts we don't want to hear. Which is why the only thing that registers in my mind was how proud I was. He got into Yale. My baby got into Yale.

"Richie?"

And that's when all the information swarms me. All of it. I don't know what to say or do. But I open my mouth to speak. "You're scheduling a breakup?" I ask. "I need to check with my secretary. I think it won't work, I am busy that day." I don't know why I'm joking. I joke when I'm hiding. And I don't hide from him.

"Be serious, Richie, I'm not happy about this either."

I laugh bitterly. "Well that makes me feel better. I'd be really concerned if you were happy about planning to break up with me." I'm being rude. I don't want to be rude to him. I love him.

He sighs. "I should've waited to tell you that I'm planning to do this. But I...I didn't want you to think that some high school fling would last forever."

Why is he acting like this? Like a full blown, goddamn adult? We're kids, and he's trying to hide that.

"You're being a fucking shit," I mutter and then away. I hate this. I hate Yale and I hate myself and part of me wants to hate Eddie even though I know I can't. I walk out the school, even though it's the middle of the day. I walk over to a bench and sit down. It's nice outside. The grass crunches whenever I step which makes me smile for some stupid reason.

I turn around and look behind me, but for some reason Eddie isn't there.

He doesn't follow me outside.

How could he not follow me outside? After everything? He should come outside. He should apologise for being a bitch.

But he doesn't.

Because maybe some university is more important to him.

"What the fuck are you doing outside on a Tuesday at one thirty?"

I look up. It's a girl. I know I've seen her before, but I have no idea what her name is. And she knows I have no idea, because as soon as I look at her she says, "I'm Beverly. I know you're Richie. Everyone knows you."

Everyone?

I sigh softly. "I just don't know how to handle my emotions. It's not like I was offered that class to take. But damn, that would be a pretty helpful class."

She takes out a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of her jacket. "That would be nice. But maybe we don't have it, because the universe wants us to be fucked up."

I don't exactly expect this to turn into a full on conversation, and my hands fidget annoyingly as I sit. "My boyfriend hurt my feelings. He scheduled a breakup. Months in advance. And told me about it, because this is his first relationship and he doesn't understand why that's a shit thing to do. So I'm sitting out here, skipping chem, because he's in my chem class and I don't want to have to see him." Her cigarette smells nice. I don't tell her, but I appreciate her being there, and the cigarette between her fingers.

She frowns. "Shit. He sounds like a dumbass."

I look at her. "Fuck you, he's not a dumbass, I genuinely love this guy. He just...I think he must hate me after all."

"You're a dumbass too then."

I glare.

She smirks. "Oh don't be so dramatic, we're all stupid sometimes. Now what you do, is make the most of it. No real love story is true without some tragedy to make it interesting. Make the fucking most of what you've got left with him. Make him so happy that by the time university comes he can't bear to leave you!"

She laughs sweetly. "But don't tell my boyfriend I give good advice, I can't have him coming to me about my problems." She smiles and hurries off.