Chapter Text
Richie deeply regretted falling asleep on the couch last night. His back ached with pain he was sure only people like Ted Wheeler knew, and knew it damn well. Richie wasn’t old enough to know what this feels like yet. Perhaps those bullies back in Derry did though. They probably spent all their day whining about young kids and their mental issues, Richie thought.
He spat—only for it to come right back down onto his half-awake face. The fact that he was laying down—and that gravity still existed—hadn’t quite hit him yet.
“Oh fuck this” he grumbled out, wiping his face lazily.
“Language.” A grumpy Ted Wheeler called out from the other room. Richie rolled his eyes. Eddie had tried telling him that if he rolled them too much they would get stuck in the back of his head.
Richie knew it was stupid, but he couldn’t care less.
Another shift of movement sent Richie into full-blown fight or flight with how quickly it whizzed past the couch.
He poked his head over the back of the couch to find douchebag Wheeler huddled over the counter, counting up a few coins and trinkets from god knows where. the clinking pennies rang out through the kitchen as Mike’s hands sifted through them.
Accompanied by the noisy coins was Mike’s low whisper counting out in increments of five. Richie watched as Mike separated his nickels from his quarters and his pennies from his dimes. He groggily stood up and watched Mike scan through his bills next.
“Whatcha’ separating five dollars for douche?” Richie question, vision clouded and mind in a haze. He propped himself up using the couch with one hand, but eventually shifted to leaning against the side. He crossed his arms across his chest.
“Going to the mall, obviously. Mom’s forcing you to go—and it’s 3, to be exact”
“even worse.” Richie snorted, “Wait what the fuck that’s today?” He questioned abruptly. He sprung up off the couch, without a clue in the world where he was even supposed to go.
“Yeah, we leave in fifteen.” Mike responded grimly, clearly not set on the idea of his cousin trailing along.
Following this, Richie put himself into action. His suitcase, planted next to his spot on the couch, was conveniently placed there the night before. He ripped it open, sifting through the useless pieces of clothing he had brought with him.
His hands dug through the messy pile thrown up into his suit case before his fingers latched on to a soft fabric. Reluctantly, he pulled out the coral hawaiian-style shirt from the previous year. He held it up to the light, hurriedly checking for any stains or dirt. He gave it the green light and threw it on over his white tank top that was a size too small. He didn't bother changing his shorts from the previous day and kept on the ones he slept in. Richie grabbed a few dollars from his suitcase and shoved it deep into his pocket.
He threw a quick glance at Mike, now dressed in a blue polo shirt after coming back downstairs for the second time. Mike swung his head around to find Richie staring back at him from his place in the living room, and shoved a lazy thumb towards the garage door.
“Let’s go, trashmouth.” Mike said, making his way towards the garage. Richie followed suit in a haste. He wasn’t stressed about being late—but missing the opportunity to see that boy again may haunt him for the rest of his days.
…
The car ride was quiet. The view of passing houses and families was accompanied by the low hum of the radio.
Richie sat in the back seat, his head propped up on his palm. His elbow rested on the small interior of the car. It wasn't by any means comfortable, but it made do. the passing trees drew in a blur. He had long tuned out the radio, as he swore this was the tenth time they’d played this song in the past hour.
“so resigned to what their fate is”
He didn’t mind the cool breeze rudely hitting him in the face from the misty air. The rolled down window allowed him to breathe in this nearly suffocating town.
“things ‘round here have changed”
The glistening grass reminded him of the previous day’s rain—something that had seemed so little had led to a much bigger world, one with Will Byers in it.
Byers, Richie muttered. He wasn’t one to act like the stereotypical head-over-heels lover boy, but he unfortunately was—for the right person, of course.
The scenery outside shifted to a parking lot in front of a mall with a huge neon sign: Starcourt Mall.
Richie’s eyes widened at the sheer amount of people surrounding even just the front outside of the mall. it proved to be a stark contrast to any sort of crowd he’d ever seen in Derry.
With his window down, he could smell the greasy pizza and burgers being cooked inside the mall, as well as a mix of smoke and an air fresher sprayed with a probably *nonexistent* amount of hope to cover anything.
But most importantly, Richie noticed the group of seven or so kids huddled up around the front entrance. They huddled around each other in a circle formation, slightly resembling a cult—but a good one, at that.
As the car came to a stop, Mike fumbled with his seatbelt. He released the contraption with a click and swung the belt over his head, releasing himself from the confinement of the run-down car.
The car hummed with a blow rumble as the engine remained running—Karen parking just long enough to release the two teens. Richie followed Mike's actions and eventually swung the door open, stepping out into the vast parking lot of Starcourt Mall.
The first thing he did was slam the door behind him and cross his arms. He stood next to the car, Mike stepping out, staring at the group of teens crowded around the entrance of the mall.
“ ‘s that them?” He finally asked, pointing a lousy finger towards the group. Mike nodded his head, stuffing his few dollars into his pocket.
With the confrontation he needed, Richie advanced towards the group. His expectations were low, deeming they might just be as boring as Wheeler. Yet part of him was hopeful—maybe the group made up for that idiot's lack of personality.
From behind him, he could hear Karen calling out for Mike, wanting to give him the rundown before she drove off back to the old house.
Richie approached the teens with a leisurely smile, feeling like he’s known them his whole life. There’s five of them—a brunette giving him an estranged look, a redhead glaring at him, and two guys smirking at him.
“What the hell took you so long? If we agree on 10 we agree on 10 dumbass.” The redhead stated boldly, intensifying her glare. One of the guys smirking at him perked up with her words, ready to chime in.
“Nah, Mike, it’s okay. We were just getting ready to head inside.” The guy finally got out, popping up in front of the redhead. The redhead took her turn to glare at him now.
“What? The fuck? I'm not Wheeler, we look nothing alike.” Richie responded, annoyed. He glanced around the group until he spotted him—Will Byers.
The pinpoint of his affection was tucked behind one of the grinning kids with curly hair, staring with wide eyes up at him. All Richie could do was stare back, stunned. He had no clue what was going through Will’s mind right now, but if he had to guess, he was probably clueless as to why Richie had shown his face again after what happened the previous night.
Will broke eye contact first, fixing his gaze on a far off shrub instead. The silence was ever growing, leaving it up to Richie to break the awkward pause.
“Well if you take a closer look, i’m actually sexier” He began, running a hand through his dark curls. “But perhaps I do look a bit like Wheeler. Forgot my handy dandy glasses this morning.” He stated awkwardly, realization coming to him mid sentence.
“Who are you then, his long lost cousin?” the redhead questioned, sharing a confused glance with the brunette.
The brunette nodded back, cautiously staring at him. He looked back and forth between them, before continuing on.
“Yeah, actually. Glad you could come to that conclusion yourselves.” He snorted, cracking his fingers in the meantime. During their short-lived conversation, Mike had finally stumbled over.
“Sorry. My mom is kinda odd.” He said, glancing towards the brunette.
He sighed, pointing to Richie. “This is my cousin Richie. He’s here for the summer, unfortunately.” Mike grumbled out, rolling his eyes. “Richie, this is Max” he points to the redhead, “that’s El” he points to the brunette, “and that’s Dustin and Lucas” he points to the grinning kids from earlier “and behind them is Will.” He finished, shooting Richie an annoyed glance.
“Okay, guys, let’s split up now. Lots to do today.” Dustin—the curly-haired grinning boy from earlier—chimes in. He waves his hand towards Lucas and Mike, and they set off. Will stood awkwardly between “ell” and Richie, looking around nervously.
“What’s el short for?” Richie questioned abruptly, breaking the silence.
“Eleven”
“That's odd.”
“shut the hell up Richie.”
“God, okay.”
Max suddenly linked arms with El and sped off with her, leading her deep into the mall crowd. Richie and Will were the only teens left over, destined to pair up and hangout, Richie noted.
“Guess that just leaves me and you, Byers” Richie said with a grin, looking down at a frowning Will.