thirty two

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One thing Richie knows for sure is what happened that day can never reach the ears of Beverly Marsh.

His knees are still red from where he landed in the grass and no matter how many times Eddie has insisted that he's okay, Richie still feels guilty for taking him down in his own tumble.

Now, as he fixes the strap of his backpack on his shoulder he can still feel the sting of the cut under the bandaid. He doesn't even blame himself for waiting to jump, not like he can even bring himself to think about the train for longer than a few seconds anyway. But just like in Derry, it sits on the outskirts of his mind.

"Hey Richie," Eddie says as he walks up to the boy, his own backpack hanging from his shoulders. "Are you busy after school today?"

"I gotta be Beverly's Uber, but other than that, I don't think so. What do you got in mind, Eds?"

A smile crosses over his face and he waits for Richie to fall in step with him, dodging full backpacks and students lingering in the halls. "Well," he starts, "I was thinking you could come over. Maybe eat dinner at my house? My mom is meeting with a few friends and won't be back for hours."

Richie grins to himself. "Come over? Without your mom home?"

"It's not like that!" Eddie says quickly, also shooting a glare up at the boy.

Richie laughs and nods his head. "I'll come over. Is five okay? I have some homework that won't do itself."

Eddie nods and looks away from Richie and to the end of the hallway where Stanley and Bill talk with each other. "Okay, nice. I'll see you then, Richie," he says, giving the boy one last smile before departing.

Richie's eyes linger on him as he walks away too, going down to the cafeteria. Beverly had to ask about the smile on his face, to which he shook his head and told her he'd explain in the car.

Later that day, when the sun hangs low in the sky and Richie's homework is packed away in his backpack, he says goodbye to Wentworth before heading over to Eddie's.

The boy's driveway is empty, the first sign he arrived safely after Sonia had left. He parks down the street a little, not fully knowing if he's even allowed over.

The front door flys open before Richie even gets half way up the driveway. His lifts his eyes to Eddie, who's in different clothes than the ones he wore at school.

"Hi! Here, come in. It's cold," Eddie says, motioning for Richie to pick up his pace.

The two step inside the heated house and Eddie waits patiently as Richie shrugs off his jacket. "Nice house," he says, toeing off his shoes.

"Thanks. I'm in the middle of cleaning out my closet so we can hang out in the kitchen," Eddie says and leads him down the hallway.

His backpack is on the table, his homework and supplies spilling out. As Richie looks around, taking in the peeling wallpaper and the yellow curtains over the sink, Eddie picks up his school things and tosses it against the hallway wall. Very old fashioned kitchen, if you ask Richie.

Eddie stands up from his backpack, sliding his palms over each other. "Hey, Richie," he says slowly. "Could I ask you a question?"

Richie looks over at him. He tries to smother the anxiety that sparks in his stomach. The words can i ask you a question? has never sat well with him.

"Sure," he forces out instead. "Whatever is on your mind."

Eddie messes with his backpack for a second longer, then takes his foot back and steps into the kitchen. "Were you scared?" He asks.

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