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For Richie, impressing Stan had always been the end goal. Make him laugh was always on the list of things to accomplish but Richie usually had a little bit more luck in that area. Just a bit though. Impressing? Well that was not an easy task. Because nothing seemed to impress Stan, let alone Richie.
Richie sighed wistfully before grabbing a pen and paper out of his binder. He was meant to be taking English notes but who really needed notes over Catcher in the Rye? Spark notes existed for a reason after all. Instead he when he brought the pen to his paper, he started his list. One that consisted of things Richie could do that might actually impress Stan for once.
It wasn’t something Richie liked to admit but he couldn’t deny it. He’d had his eyes on Stan for a while now. Since 6th grade to be exact. There was just something about how the other would take one look at him and roll his eyes. Maybe it was challenge or how he had to work for Stan’s attention that started it all. Before Richie realized it though he was head over heels. If only it was that easy.
He might be completely smitten with Stanley Uris, but he figured the sentiment was not requited.
Everyone could be won over, though right? All Richie needed to do was really show Stan that he could be impressive, he had plenty to offer, he was a good choice for Stan. It wasn’t until the other teen had come out the year before that the quest to earn Stan’s love had gotten serious. Now that Richie he knew he stood somewhat of a chance.
Well more than he thought he had.
(1)
He needed to put his plans into action though. Which was where the list came into play. Number one on Richie’s ‘Ways to Totally Impress Stan the Man’ was,
‘Win him over with my super awesome skateboard skills.’
Looking back on it, Richie probably should have seen how badly this was going to go. hindsight was 20/20.
They had been walking home that afternoon and Richie of course had remembered to bring his skateboard along with him that day. Just for this occasion right here.
Ben and Bev had drove home together that day, they hadn’t said it, but Richie was pretty sure it was because they were going on a date afterwards. Sadly, Mike’s grandpa had come to pick him, it was just too far for the bus to drive and Mike defiantly couldn’t walk all the way out to the farm. Which left the group down to four. With how close they lived to the school it didn’t make any sense to drive.
That was fine though, because again it was all part of Richie’s plan.
“Stan,” Richie said, jumping on the board once again after he’d lost his balance the first time and was forced to step off. “Stan. Watch this, Stan. Are you watching?” Richie asked, pushing off with his foot to gain more speed. “Stanley, Staniel, Uris, watch me. Watch me do this.” Richie chanted as he maintained his speed until he was just a few feet in front of the group. “Are you watching?”
“Nobody wants to watch you fall of your skateboard again, Richard,” Stan deadpanned before adjusting his bag.
“You better stop Richie, you’re going to get hurt. You don’t want to get a rock stick in your knee do you, cause that’s what’s going to happen dipshit.”
“I’m watching, Richie,” Bill said, him being the only wan to offer any real encouragement.
“Staaaan” Richie whined while trying to slow down before he got too far ahead of everyone. “Stan you have to watch, I’m going to do a trick.”
“Oh my God,” Stan sighed. “Fine yes, I’m watching.” The other teen finally said, only to be meet with a bright grin from Richie.
This was Richie’s moment. Nothing could hold him back. The stars were aligned, Stan’s eyes were on him and only him, he had the world at his feet. Until he didn’t of course.
It was meant to be a kick flip with a little bit of fancy additives thrown in, nothing too hard. While Richie had to admit he wasn’t the best skateboarder, nor was he necessarily graceful, it was simple. He’d been working on his form and he’d gotten it down pact last night. Expect there was a difference from his smoothed paved driveway to the rocky graveled icy street he was on.
He repeated the steps in his head. Jump up, kick the board, twist a little bit, find the board with your feet…land it. Expect he’d missed the last step that included finding the board again and landing it. Instead he landed right on his wrist while his board rolled on past him in mockery.
“Ow,” he whimpered, holding his now sprained wrist protectively to his chest.
“Richie!” Stan cried while everyone stopped.
“I told you that you were going to get hurt! What did I tell you would happen, exactly what just happened!” Eddie said, already reaching out take Richie’s hand in his.
“No, don’t you’re going to make it worse!” Richie said as he scooted further from Eddie.
“Oh my God,” Stan mumbled again while Bill looked on in concern. “Is it broken?” He asked, crouching down to join Richie on the side of the street.
Richie quickly shook his head as he stared up at Stan with big sad eyes. “I think I sprained it.”
“Let me see,” Stan ordered, this time Richie hesitantly held his wrist out for the other, trusting but still worried. “What do you think Eddie?” He asked as he gently took Richie’s hand and inspected it.
“Well nobody heard a snap right?” Eddie asked, kneeling along with Bill to really inspect it.
“Can you move it?” Bill asked.
This was Richie’s least favorite part.
“Bend it a little bit so we know it’s not broken” Stan said, and Richie carefully tried to comply. While it did move it was still painful and he was fairly unhappy about it. Stan narrowed his eyes some in concentration before his expression eased. “I don’t think it’s broken, just twisted it. Come on, let’s go put some ice on it,” He said as he helped the other get to his feet.
The group walked along, Bill now carrying the forgotten skateboard that had ruined Richie’s plan.
Richie who had stuck close to Stan in case Eddie wanted to do another examination, finally worked up the nerve to ask Stan the question that he’d been dwelling.
“Did I impress you with my trick?”
Stan’s frowned before snapping his head around to look at Richie like he’d finally lost his mind. “Impress? You fell and nearly broken your arm, why would that impress me?”
“Hey!” Richie argued. “I did the first half of the trick right, I bet it looked cool and everything! I just didn’t stick the land!”
Stan raised his eyebrow before huffing out a short laugh. “Still not impressed but good try. Maybe next time don’t hurt yourself and I’ll be impressed.”
Well…that was progress, right? So, he hadn’t won Stan over this go around, no matter. Richie still had a few things left on his list to try.
(2)
This one was fool proof. There was no way Richie could get this one wrong! Since they were in the middle of the holiday season, what better way to impress Stan then with some homemade Sufganiyah. While Richie couldn’t actually pronounce the word, he knew it was a Jewish holiday food and it was the equivalent of a jellied donuts.
Richie had cooked before, he wasn’t completely useless when it came to the kitchen. Of course, jellied donuts did sound like of an advanced cooking skill, he imagined he could figure it out.
“What are you doing, love?” Maggie asked as her son came bounding into the kitchen.
“I’m going to make Stuff-again-yah,” Richie said easily as he started to rummage though the kitchen. “Do we have powdered sugar?
“I’m sorry you’re making what?” Maggie asked, watching a bit bewildered as Richie grabbed the bottle of cooking oil and some flower.
“It’s a Jewish food, like a donut. I’m making it for Stan.”
“Oh…” Maggie trailed off. While Richie hadn’t come right and told her, she knew the teen had fallen for his friend for some time now. “Rich, that sounds like it might be hard. Do you need some help?”
Richie looked at the woman with a bit of hesitance before shaking his head. “No, I really want this to come just from me, you know? I mean thanks for offering! I just…it’s important I impress him,” Richie admitted softly.
“Ah, I see,” Maggie said understandingly. She got up from the table and grabbed the apron off the kitchen hook. “Well in that case you’re going to need this,” she smiled and handed it to the him. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me. And we do have powered sugar, you’ll find it in the pantry.”
“Thank you,” Richie beamed before throwing the apron on.
“Oh, and Dear?” She added. “Try not to burn yourself, the oil gets hot.”
In retrospect this was a great idea. Richie just hadn’t anticipated how difficult it was going to be. First, he needed to make dough and that was an experience in itself. Richie’s cooking skills hadn’t truly developed past pancakes and grilled cheeses.
Still he powered though, looking over the recipe every couple of minutes. But he had questions that needed answers, like why was cinnamon included in the recipe, why was his dough lumpy, how come the flower wasn’t sticking anymore?
“Oh my God,” he groaned, trying to knee the small clumps of flower out of his mixture. “this wasn’t meant to be so hard.”
“You doing okay in there?” His mother called out, peeking her head around the entrance. “No troubles?”
“No, I’m doing good!” he said with a forced smile. “I’m about to get these bad boys in the oil any minute now,”
“Okay,” his mother said with just a hint of worry. “Just make sure you let the oil heat up fist before you add them, or they’ll be soggy.”
“Soggy?” Richie asked, making a face. That did not sound like the type of donut he was trying to present.
This was Hell’s Kitchen and Stan was James Ramsey. These Sufganiyahs had to be grade A, no doubts about it.
“Yeah,” she said with a short nod. “Are you sure you’re doing alright.”
“Yep! I’ve got this all covered, you can go and read your book. I’m good here, thanks for the tip!”
Again, his mother retreated into the living room, this time looking a little more concerned then before, but she held her tongue and let Richie try it out.
Thankfully it didn’t take too long for the oil to heat up. At least he figured it was hot enough by the way it was starting to bubble.
He carefully lowered one of the dough balls into the pot. Now he’d watched his mother fry enough things to know that it was going to sizzle. He just didn’t think deep frying would be that much different.
He threw a hand over his mouth to keep himself from making any surprised sounds that would send his mom running back into the kitchen. Wow. So that was deep frying. A lot of crackling popping and overall fear that the oil was going to splash right back into his face and scar him for life.
Somehow, he was able to get the batch of 12 into the deep oil and out relatively unscathed. They looked pretty good if he was being honest. All golden brown and puffy. He didn’t think he’d ever been prouder of himself.
Next came the fun part. At least he was assuming it was more fun that making the dough and then trying to cook it in the hot burning oils.
This was a new tool he hadn’t ever gotten to try out in the kitchen before, but he’d seen his mom use it before. It was the thing that injected food into other food. Which was how he was going to get the jam inside of the now fully cooked round hole less donuts.
After following the instructs to a T he was able to sprinkle the powdered sugar and cinnamon on top. Ah, so that was the cinnamon was for? Perfect, it really added a nice touch.
Richie couldn’t believe it. His Sufganiyah looked just like the ones from the pictures he looked at online. Maybe cooking was going to be his new calling. Either way he didn’t think there was anyway Stan could dislike them.
He let them cool before placing them inside one of his mom’s decorative tins and set them aside to give to Stan tomorrow morning. As far as Richie was concerned? He was home free, he had done it! He didn’t know how but he knew he’d made picture perfect jelly Jewish donuts. Golden brown puffs filled with raspberry jam and sprinkled with the most desirable amount of powdered sugar and cinnamon. He decided that he could probably win Chopped after that.
The next day Richie, for once, had no trouble getting up that morning. He rushed around getting ready, brushing his teeth, his hair, and grabbing his bag before saying goodbye to his parents.
“Rich!” His father called out as soon as he got to the door. “Don’t forget your little donuts!” his dad said as he handed him the tin. Richie had been so excited he’d almost forgotten.
“Thanks!” He said happily before practically running down the street. As soon as he got to school the first person, he looked for was Stan. It wasn’t hard to find the other teen, they almost always waited on the front steps for each other.
“Hey!” Richie beamed practically breathless from running the whole way. “I made you something!”
“What do you mean you made me something?” Stan asked, eyeing Richie carefully.
“I made Suff-again-yah!” He said, thrusting the tin at Stan.
“You made what?” Stan asked, giving Richie an odd look before opening the little reindeer covered dish. He eyed the contents for a moment before lightening up some. “Oh,” he laughed lightly. “You made Sufganiyah.”
“Yes, that’s what I said,” Richie added. “Try one?”
“Richie, wow I can’t believe you made these. They look really good…How did you know how to cook them?”
“I mean…I just looked up Hanukah foods and I thought-well we always get to have Christmas food and I thought maybe you should get some early Hanukah food.”
“That’s actually very thoughtful, thank you,” Stan said smiling again as he pulled one and took a bite.
Richie’s face instantly paled at the other’s expression.
“Why are they spicy?”
“What?” Richie asked, his expression falling. “What do you mean they’re spicy?” Richie asked.
“Richie did you try one?” Stan asked, making a face before swallowing the rest of the bite down. “Here, try it’s…really spicy.”
Well, no Richie hadn’t actually tried one. He didn’t think he’d needed to, and he wasn’t that big of a donut fan anyway. He took the rest of the one Stan had tasted before taking his own bite.
“What the hell?” Richie asked, looking down offended at his food. What could have gone wrong!
“It tastes like…cayenne pepper?” Stan added after a moment.
“Damn it!” Richie swore. He knew what he’d done wrong. He’d mixed up the cinnamon and the cayenne when he’d dusted the donuts. “Oh my God, it’s really spicy.” To be fair though they had been sitting right next to each other in his mom’s spice rack.
Stan made another face before nodding and slowly handing the tin back. “I mean, they look nice though.” He added.
“You’re not impressed, are you?” Richie said with a frustrated sigh. He’d worked so hard! How could this have happened!
“It’s not that!” Stan added quickly, it was one thing to make fun of Richie’s coordination, but it looked the other really had tried this time. “It’s just…you know, a little too hot?”
“Sorry,” Richie muttered.
“Hey it’s no big deal, you tired and it was really sweet of you. How about I come over after school and we can try again. I’ll show you my mom’s recipe.”
“Really?” Richie asked hopefully.
“Of course,” Stan said with a small smile of his own.
So maybe Richie hadn’t been able to impress Stan this time but at least he got to spend another couple of hours with him after school, which was always a plus. He couldn’t count this one as a total loss, but this wasn’t the end of operation impress Stan. No, Richie still had a few more things to try.
3)
Stan was always teasing him about his hair, the other teen was always joking that he should cut it. So why not try to impress Stan by following his advice? Richie knew Stan wasn’t the type of guy to be into looks but they never hurt right? What if a clean-cut haircut was the way to Stan’s heart? Well Richie could only try.
“Bill! Hey can give you me a ride downtown today? I’m going to get a haircut.” Richie asked as he bounded up the other teen after class that afternoon.
Bill tilted his head some in confusion before pulling a few books out of his locker and stuffing them into his bag. “What like a t-trim?” The other teen asked. His stutter had improved greatly over the last couple of years but occasionally, there was still the faint remnants of it.
Richie shrugged some before adjusting the straps on his bag. “Something like that, yeah,” He agreed. Even though he knew the full extent of his haircut.
“You love your hair, are you sure you want cut it?” Bill asked, closing his locker and looking at Richie with skepticism. “You’re not doing it to…impress anyone are you?”
“Impress somebody?!” Richie asked, giving Bill a wild look. Uh oh, had he been found out? There was no way! “That’s crazy, who would I even try to impress with my dumb hair.”
Bill rolled his eyes before shaking his head in affection. “Richie it’s not hard to tell. I think the only one who doesn’t realize it is Stan himself,”
Richie jumped before quickly throwing a hand over Bill’s mouth. “Shhh!” Richie hissed, looking around. “Bill, please, this is very sensitive information and I don’t know how you know but it has to stay between us. We’re talking about the same thing…right?”
“About you liking Stan?” Bill asked when Richie removed his hand. Again, Richie covered Bill’s mouth with his hand, the same look in his eyes.
Bill tutted before narrowing his eyes some and pulling Richie’s hand away. “Stop, I promise I’m not going to say anything.”
Richie sighed before slowly nodding some. “I just don’t want him to…this can either go two ways. It’ll work out for me or Stan will hate me for the rest our lives and I’ll lose my very best friend. Or you know he’ll laugh at me first, tell me he could never feel the same way, and the convince his parents to move to Texas or something.”
“Richie,” Bill sighed before placing a hand on the other’s shoulder. “That’s not going happen, okay? You should probably just tell him how your f-feeling.”
“No!” Richie argued. “That won’t work, I’m just going to impress him enough to make him fall in love with me.”
“Well what if he already likes you?”
“He doesn’t.”
“And how do you k-know that?”
“I feel it.”
“Oh my God,” Bill mumbled. “Let’s just go get your hair cut alright?”
“Sounds good.”
At first it wasn’t so bad. Richie sat down in the chair and neatly crossed his ankles while the woman draped a tarp over him and started to spray his hair with some water. She then pulled his classes off and raised the chair up accordingly. “So what are we doing for you today.”
“Short…um, cleaned up really. Not shaved or anything!” He quickly added before continuing. “Um I’m thinking something you could show up to your Grandma’s bible study with and she’d be happy to see you.”
“Uh,” the woman mumbled before grabbing her scissors. “So just a short haircut? Something a bit more polished?” She asked.
“Yeah, polished!” Richie agreed before settling back in the chair. He was glad they were on the same page.
He held his breath when she made the first snip, watching as a blurred tuff of hair fell away to the floor. Okay that wasn’t so bad. Sure, he was losing a part of himself, truthfully something he’d really liked about himself…something that had sort of become part of his identity.
‘Oh no, maybe this was a bad idea,’ he thought to himself, but it was too late to say anything now. The woman had made at least five more snips since he’d seen the first one fall. He wished he had his glasses on so he could at least see what she was doing.
Then a couple more snips happened, and then several more after that. In fact, it didn’t feel like she was ever going to stop snipping away at his hair. His eyes widen some when he glanced at the floor below him. It was covered it bits of hair, but it certainly looked like a lot.
God that really did look like a lot. How much was she cutting, how many minutes had it been? At least 30 minutes…she had cut off 30 minutes worth of hair and he was starting to get nervous.
A few more minutes passed, and the woman didn’t seem to be letting up any. Finally, when Richie was just about to say something she stopped and started to brush off remaining hair around his neck. “Alright, I’ll style it a bit and let you have look!” She said happily. Richie felt like a rock had settled in his stomach, but he forced a smile and nodded.
When the moment came to put his glasses back on, Richie was a little floored. More than a little. He stared into the mirror and for a minute he didn’t recognize himself.
“Do you like it?” The hairdresser asked excited as she spun him around in the chair and handed him a mirror so that he could look at the back.
It was so short.
“Uh huh,” Richie nodded, his throat dry as he surveyed the damage. Okay. Okay it was fine, he could make that work…sure he’s just lost-what 40% hair? It was fine!
Bill’s eyes widened the moment he looked at the other teen, but he quickly trained his expression. “Wow! It looks great Richie!”
Richie was torn between telling Bill not to bullshit him and asking if he meant it. Instead though he gave another tight-lipped smile before handing the woman a 20-dollar bill. She slipped it into the register before holding a five for him. Richie scrunched his face up some before shaking his head, refusing the change. He wasn’t even sure if he could speak at the moment.
Once they were back out in the car Bill turned to him and gave him a reassuring look. “It’s not that bad.”
“It’s that bad.”
“No, it’s really not.”
“It’s so short.”
“It’ll grow!”
“It’s so bad.”
“Richie come on, it could be worse! It’s not bad it’s just new, you’ll get use to it! Give it three months and your hair will back to its unruly chaotic self in no time.”
Richie just turned sadly to Bill and sighed. “I’m never getting a fifteen-dollar hair cut again,” He sighed.
“How about we just go over to Stan’s? I was texting him a little bit ago, he’s home. You wanna go see Stan?”
“I want to hide for the rest of my life, or until my hair grows back,” Richie muttered before pulling the seatbelt across his chest.
“Come on don’t be like that, you can’t hide for 3 months. Let’s just go see him okay?”
Richie finally agreed before he realized it, he was standing on Stan’s porch with Bill waiting for the other open the door, Bill right next to him offering as much moral support as he could.
When Stan did open the door, he stared openly at Richie. “Your hair.”
“I know,” Richie mumbled, before rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “I got a haircut.”
This was not the face of someone who was impressed.
“Doesn’t he l-look great!” Bill said hopefully, giving Stan a pointed look.
“It’s…I mean…yeah!” Stan said, quickly catching on.
“You hate it,” Richie sighed before leaning up against the door frame. “It’s stupid isn’t it?”
“It’s not stupid, what happened? Did you get gum in it or something?” Stan asked as he stepped aside to let the two boys in.
“No, I just um…wanted a change,” he admitted, him and Bill following the other into the kitchen.
“Richie!” Mrs Uris said as she stepped into the kitchen. “You looked wonderful! Ah, you finally cut that hair huh?” She doted, pulling the teen closer and touching lightly at it.
“Hi Mrs. Uris,” Richie said, smiling warily at her.
“I love it!” She said happily before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “You were starting to look like a sheep dog, this makes you look so handsome!”
“Mom,” Stanly mumbled, rolling his eyes.
“Alright, alright,” she laughed before patting Richie on the cheek again. “I’ll leave you boys be, help yourself to a snack.”
“See, his mom loves it!” Bill said happily. “So does Stan!”
It wasn’t meant to impress Mrs. Uris though. Maybe he wasn’t the nice Jewish boy she’d hoped Stan would end up with but at least she had called him handsome.
“You really like it?” Richie asked as he took a kitchen island while Stan grabbed him a soda from the fridge.
“I don’t hate it,” Stan replied easily. “I really liked your hair though.”
Richie’s heart fell a little further down in his chest before he nodded.
“So, you aren’t impressed?” Richie asked.
To Richie’s surprise Stan smiled at him before reaching out to touch the newly tamed curls. “It’s different. I wouldn’t say impressed because all you did was get a haircut, but I’m surprised you did it. It doesn’t matter, it’s just hair Richie.”
“Just hair?” Richie asked, raising an eyebrow. Stan’s tone though was starting to lift his sprits.
“Mhm, it’ll grow back. I’m not worried about it.”
So, this might not have been a win either and Richie might not have loved his hair, but it seemed like the others were right, a few weeks later he already started to notice it growing out, much to his relief. While he was starting to run low on ideas, he still had a few up his sleeve.
(4)
Richie hadn’t been looking for ways to impress Stan that day. The opportunity just arose and when opportunity knocked, well Richie was going to answer the door!
It had been a coincidence that he’d ran into the pair during the middle of the day. Richie had asked to use the restroom during history because he simply could not stand another minute of Mr. Monty’s monotone speech about textile miles. Sure, he loved history but there was something that made him want to smash his face against the desk when they got to Mr. Monty’s class.
So, he needed to use the bathroom, stretch his legs, wonder around for at least fifteen minutes before he forced himself back to class. He really shouldn’t have run into anyone, let alone Stan. Because Stan was meant to be in Math.
He slowed down when he neared the corner, there were obviously other people there. He could tell that it was a bit of a fight it seemed like, or a disagreement. There was the sound of shuffling and then a yelp from someone else. Richie frowned before he peeked around the corner. This might be one of those cases where you just need to go and look for someone bigger and stronger than you to avoid getting beat up.
What made him run cold though was realizing that it was Stan and Bowers.
The older teen had Stan pushed up against the looker, books and papers scattered across the floor, and Stan didn’t usually look unnerved, but Henry must have said something particularly frightening.
Looking back Richie knew he should just consider himself grateful that none of Henry’s friends were accompanying him. Richie took a deep breath and heaved it out before shoving his hall pass in his pocket. In life there were plenty of different options for plenty of situations, this one though? He already knew what to do.
“Leave him alone!” Richie yelled as he came barreling from around the corner, grabbing Henry and using all the force in him to push the teen to the ground.
“You’re going to pay for that!” Henry barked, scrambling to his feet and grabbing a hold of Richie.
‘Oh, I don’t doubt that,’ Richie thought to himself. But it was worth it to make sure Stan stayed safe.
“What are you going to do about huh?” Richie asked, trying to pull away from Henry, his sneakers skidding across the hall floor. “You’re going to beat me up, Bowers? I’m so scared.”
Henry didn’t waste any time in throwing the first punch, but Richie wasn’t afraid to throw the second one. How long had they been doing this for? Years now and Richie was certainly tired of it, but he wasn’t afraid to get hit, that was one thing he could say.
Riche had taken a beating before, he had taken a few of them if he was honest. But that was back in the day and there was a difference between taking a beating and getting beat up, if one was going to happen, it would be the later.
The two boys made their way to the floor scrambling around and fighting for the upper hand. Richie could feel his nose bleeding, but he could also tell that Henry’s lip was busted from the second hit he’d gotten in.
Before it could transpire any further a teacher came out from one of her classes room’s shouting at them. “Stop it this instant!” She yelled and that seemed to be enough to stop the two. She roughly grabbed a hold of Henry’s arm while Stan helped Richie up. “Both of you to the office, right now! Let’s go,” She ordered angry, pointing down the hall as she directed Henry. “Uris you too.”
In the end Richie had managed to evade any detention, thanks to Stan who had given the principle a rundown of what had happened. Henry on the other had was looking at week of suspension.
“You didn’t need to do that,” Stan mumbled as him and Richie sat in the nurse’s office, an ice pack pressed up against Richie’s eye and tissues still shoved up his nose.
“Of course, I did,” Richie said through his nasally voice. “You would have gotten hurt if I hadn’t.”
“I would have been fine,” Stuff huffed as he readjusted Richie’s ice pack. “I’m serious don’t do that again.”
“Stan,” Richie started. “You know I’d do it again without a second thought.” He offered the other a small smile before leaning into Stan’s side. “Did I impress you?”
“Did you impress me?” Stan asked, his mouth going a bit slack. “Do you think watching you get hurt is impressing?”
“Don’t be mad,” Richie whined. “I did it protect you! I was defending you!”
“I don’t like it when your hurt,” Stan grumbled, trying to get Richie to understand.
“Sorry,” Richie mumbled after a moment. “But I’d still do it again.”
Stan rolled his eyes, but he didn’t say anything, instead he wrapped an arm around Richie and sighed again. “I figured.”
Richie didn’t say anything else, but he was starting to get hopeless. Was there nothing he could do to impress Stan? He’d try one more time.
(5)
Again, this opportunity came from sheer luck. He’d once again found himself over at Stan’s house, waiting for him to open the door so that they could head to the movies together. Strictly platonic of course, they were meeting the rest of their friends there.
Still he’d been left waiting on the porch for Stan or his parents to let him in. He’d wished the other had just answered his phone but good old fashion knocking on the door worked too. Regardless he’d only been there for a few seconds when he heard the faint sound of meowing in the distance.
Riche frowned before looking around. It sounded like Nutmeg, Stan’s cat. But he didn’t think she was meant to be outside. At least he’d never seen her outside and Mrs. Uris was always stressing about them not letting the cat out.
“Nutmeg?” he asked, looking around still not finding the source of the sound. That was odd. Maybe it wasn’t her after all? But again, he heard the faint pleas of a cat somewhere. “Kitty kitty?” Richie called, stepping off the porch and looking around.
Again, the meow came, and Richie followed the sound. Every little cry leads him closer to the source. Until he reached one of the tall oak trees around the side of Stan’s house. “Oh my God,” he mumbled when he looked up and spotted the cat in one of the lower branches. “Nutmeg!” Richie cried, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “What are you doing?” He asked.
The sun hadn’t gone down all the way yet, but it was getting closer and the sky was starting to turn a hue of blue. It would be dark pretty soon and he was afraid that if she didn’t get down it would be too dark to see her. “Are you serious right now? Come down!” he demanded. “You got up there, now get down.”
“Meow.” The cat cried out.
“Can you not get down,” Richie asked, staring at her. She only blinked down at him in reply.
She was a rather heavy cat, cute but very thick. She was a long-haired tabby and Stan adored her, he’d be devastated to know that his cat was stuck. But…maybe he’d be impressed with Richie if the other teen managed to save his beloved Nutmeg?
It was worth a shot. He’d be the hero, Nutmeg would be safely back in her little cat yurt near the fire, and stan would fall madly in love with him.
“Alright,” Richie sighed. “Your hero is here,” he mumbled before approaching the tree and reaching out for one of the lower branches. He braced himself and used every bit of his upper body strength to host himself higher until his foot could reach the breach as well. He hung there for a moment before powering on and reaching for the next branch, swearing under his breath. “I’m not physically fit enough for this, I hope you know that.”
Nutmeg continued to peer down from her own breach, still higher up then Richie.
He climbed a couple steps higher before he heard footsteps and the very frustrated voice of Stan Uris. “Richie what are you doing?” Stan asked.
Richie carefully adjusted himself so that he could look down at the other teen. He didn’t look to impressed that was for sure. “Nutmeg is stuck in a tree! Thank God you’re here!” He said, still holding onto one of the thicker branches so he couldn’t fall.
“Richie wait here,” Stan said before taking back off into the house.
“Stan don’t leave me like this! I’ve only got so much strength over here, you know I’ve missed a couple gym days!” he called out but Stan didn’t stop, instead he marched right back into the house.
“Meow…” Nutmeg cried, watching as Stan left and Richie hung on for dear life.
“He left us here to die,” he mumbled before climbing a bit higher again. When he finally got to the cat Stan still hadn’t returned. He reached his hand out to the furry ball and ‘pspspspsed’ at her. Nutmeg only looked on in wonder.
“Come on, let’s get down!” he insisted, realizing that Nutmeg wasn’t just going to take his hand and climb down with him. “Jump on my back and I’ll carry you down like a monkey,” he said, hoping that by some miracle she’d understand him. She only continued to watch though.
“Richie you didn’t need to climb up my tree,” Stan muttered. Ah so he had returned.
“Well somebody has to save her!” he argued.
“She’ll save herself, watch,” Stan said before holding up a can of cat food. “Kitty kitty kitty,” he called before tapping his nails against the metal tin and then finally opening it.
Instantly Nutmeg was shimming down the tree, bypassing Richie as she hoped and climbed down like an expert.
“Really!?” Richie called out angrily. He had climbed a tree for nothing.
“She does that sometimes,” Stan said, picking up the cat and holding it close to him. “I just get the wet food and she comes right down. I think she tries to catch birds or something.”
“Uh Stan…I hate to break it to you, but I might be stuck,” Richie mumbled, a feeling of dizziness washing over him when he looked at how high he’d climbed.
“Wait here, I’ll get the ladder,” Stan said as he took with both Nutmeg and her food.
“Not going anywhere,” he mumbled as he continued to hold on tightly.
When Richie finally managed to get down, he’d never felt more thankful to be on solid ground. “My hero,” Richie said, throwing an arm around Stan.
“You could have just told me, and I would have gotten the food in the first place. You didn’t need to get stuck in a tree,” Stan mumbled but he laughed anyway. “Come on, we’ll be late for the movie if we don’t hurry.”
“Wait, did I impress you?” Richie asked suddenly.
“Impress me, by getting stuck in a tree?” Stan asked through another laugh. “Uh no but thanks for thinking about Nutmeg?”
Richie gave a tight-lipped smile. That was it! He was officially out of ideas, there was no hope. Stan the man was just too hard to impress. While Richie tried not to let his feelings ruin the movie, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of despair.
“What’s wrong?” Stan whispered, leaning over to get closer to Richie.
The teen had opted to sit on the end while the rest of them piled into the row. Richie sitting between Bill and Stan, Bill next to Mike who was sat next to Eddie, then Ben and Bev on the other the end.
“Nothing, I guess I’m just tired for my tree exercise today,” he said softly, offering Stan the bucket of popcorn they’d been sharing.
Stan wordlessly took it but raised the arm rest and scooted a little closer. “You can lean on me if you want,” he replied hesitantly.
Richie took him up on the offer. He just wished it had meant more.
(+1)
The group had found themselves sitting around the fire in Ben’s house, watching the snow fall outside the window and sipping on hot chocolate. Some Christmas movie had been playing in the background, but nobody had seemed to be paying much attention. Well all but Mike.
“I wonder why they always have doves at wedding and funerals and stuff,” he mumbled, his eyes fixated on the television. Stan had opened his mouth to reply but Richie beat him to it.
“Doves mean love and hope, that’s why they’re always using them. They also use to be used for messages I don’t really think you’re meant to just release them though, they’re really domesticated.”
Stan whipped his head around to look at Richie in shock. “Richie,” Stan muttered.
“What?” He asked, looking away from the television he’d been glancing at. “What’s wrong?”
“You know about the doves?” He asked, giving the other a smile.
“Yeah?” Richie asked quietly, unsure of what he’d done wrong…or right. “I know what they mean.”
“I’m impressed,” Stan said, nodding his head in approval.
“You’re impressed? I impressed you?” Richie asked, his eyes going wide. He’d just impressed Stan Uris and he’d done it by complete accident.
“Yes,” Stan said, nodding again. “You’ve impressed me with your bird knowledge today.”
“Finally,” Eddie mumbled, not bothering to look up from his phone. “He’s only being trying to impress you all month.”
“Eddie!” The group shouted collectively with the short teen looked up in shock.
“What?! What did I do? He has though!”
“You weren’t meant to tell anybody!” Bev said throwing her head back. “Let alone Stan.”
“You’ve been trying to impress me?” Stan asked, giving Richie a look of confusion.
“You told!?” Richie asked, spinning around to look at Bill with nothing short of betrayal.
“Richie, I swear I-I didn’t say anything,” The other teen argued.
“Eddie,” Ben groaned, throwing his head back.
“What! I didn’t know it was a secret, it’s not like he’s not being obvious about it. Bill didn’t say anything, we could tell.”
“Tell what? What’s going on?” Stan asked, folding his arms across his chest and looking expectantly at Richie.
“Um…” Richie trailed off, his face heating up as he nervously looked around the room. “Could I maybe tell you…not here?”
“Come on,” Stan said, hauling himself up off the floor. “Let’s go.”
“Wait where are we going?” Richie asked, fumbling at the jacket Stan had all but tossed at him.
“Outside, we’re taking a walk.”
He didn’t seem happy and Richie’s stomach dropped while his heart rate sped up.
Outside the cold air whipped at his face and the snowflakes melted against his warm coat. He longed to go back inside but Stan had already shut the front door. Thankfully they didn’t walk far, just away from the porch so that nobody could hear the conversation.
“What are they talking about? You were trying to impress me, how?” Stan demanded While Richie shrunk in on himself some.
“Um…” he trailed off again. This was it. His best friend clearly did not return the feelings Richie had. Not with the firm expression and narrowed eyes he was sending at Richie. He was about to lose his best friend and he felt his eyes well up with tears. “Uh…” he tried again.
“Richie, why are you keeping secrets?”
“I was just-I wanted to impress you!” he said quickly, his eyes falling down to the fresh snow on the ground. “Because I wanted you to like me. I wanted you to…you know, like like me or whatever.”
“Like like you?” Stan asked. What were they five?
“Yes, I wanted you to like how I like you. I tried to make you Jewish food and I tried to cut my hair for you and I wanted to save Nutmeg and do cool skateboard tricks so that maybe…you’d be impressed and you’d feel something for me too.”
Stan didn’t say anything, instead he stared at Richie, like he wanted to say something, but he just didn’t have the words.
“Please…I get if you don’t like me that’s fine. I mean I even kind of understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore or if you actually hate me but…I hope you don’t because you’re my best friend. I didn’t tell you because I just wanted you to like me back and then I wouldn’t have to worry about you not wanting to be friends anymore.”
“Richie…” Stan trailed off.
“No just-please don’t let this change anything? I can forget this stupid crush and just leave it alone. You’re my best friend Stan and I’m so sorry. Like I’m so sorry I’m springing this on you when you don’t feel the same, but you asked, and I had to be honest. Can we just forget it all?”
“I do like you,” Stan said. “I like you in those ways, Richie,”
“You like me?” Was he hearing things?
“Yes, you’re so…” Stan laughed before running a hand down face. “I don’t even know how to describe you but you’re, so you and I love that about you. It’s ridiculous but I love that that’s the way you are.”
“You’re being serious right now, no jokes?” Richie asked a little hesitantly, he didn’t think he could handle it if it was a joke. He was being told the best thing he’d ever heard, and Stan would break his heart if he took all back now.
“Of course, I am. I wouldn’t joke about that,” Stan said softly before stepping even closer until he was close enough to reach out and grab the other’s hands, holding them in his own. “I like you so much. I thought you didn’t like me,”
“What that’s crazy!” Richie said quickly. “I’ve liked you since like 6th grade.”
“Well if you had told me sooner you wouldn’t have had to cut your hair.”
“It’s growing back,” Richie said with a soft smile He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe that this was happening. Stan liked him back. His heart was about ready to explode in his chest. He’d thought off all the out comes when he broke the news to Stan, but this hadn’t been one he’d let himself entertain.
“Yeah, it is,” Stan said with another soft laugh.
Then suddenly he was leaning in, closing the gap between them before pressing his lips against Richie’s in a short but sweet kiss. “You’re so ridiculous, you know that? I like you for you, Richie. You don’t have to do anything great to get me to like you. I already did.”
Richie was too stunned to say anything. He simply grinned at Stan and nodded. God this was the best day ever.
“Let’s go back inside and hold hands?” Stan offered.
“That sounds like the best plan I’ve ever heard, Stan my man.”
When the two turned around though they were greeted by the group of teenagers watching from the window. As soon as they realized they had been caught they scrambled, frantically trying to get out of sight. All but Eddie who merely waved at the two.
“Oh my God,” Stan groaned before pulling Richie towards the door. “Let’s go.”
“Yeah, let’s go,” Richie said gently, smiling at Stan who smiled back.
He’d done it, he’d finally impressed Stan. If only he’d known, he hadn’t needed to work nearly as hard as he did.