Eddie’s walking home when it starts raining. It startles him, despite the first few drops, and he runs to find the nearest cover. But, then he stops for a moment. It’s the first time it’s rained since he’s got to New York. The first time he’s been outside alone, so Myra can’t pull him away. Looking around, still in shock, he notices nobody around. That was unusual for a city like New York, but there was no cars nor any people about on the street and it was night. He looks up, to the apartments on his right. His apartment, the one he shared with Myra, was right there. He could see a faint glow coming from his window. She was probably watching a sickeningly sweet movie. He hated when she watched those movies. He felt like what he saw in those movies was fake. You don’t really fall in love like that. You fell in love like that rain.
And the rain hit him harder. Yet, for some reason, Eddie didn’t run into his apartment. No. For some reason, Eddie places his bag down and shrugs his jacket off and walks onto the street. His red shirt is soaked by now. He can feel it on his skin. He supposes that it’s meant to make one feel sticky and wet and gross. But it makes him feel free.
He spreads his arms and throws his head back. He laughs. This makes him feel free. The rain. He wonders why he doesn’t do this more often. Why he doesn’t do things that make him feel free. Make him feel like a teenager. And suddenly he remembers. He remembers the rain. He remembers being sixteen. He remembers being in love. In lover and in the rain and sixteen.
It’s in the summer. Bill’s off with Stan, making out in the Barrens probably. Mike’s helping out at the library. Ben and Bev are finally together. And Richie and Eddie? Richie and Eddie are walking home. Walking home hand in hand on a deserted road, with smiles on their faces.
It takes a while for Richie to notice; he’s to busy looking at Eddie’s freckles, but he can feel the rain. It’s raining in summer. Something like that hasn’t happened in ages. And now Richie’s laughing, and holding his palm to feel more. He does. He’s grinning at Eddie now, who’s confused and a little upset he’d been interrupted. But as soon as he realises what Richie’s so excited about he begins tugging on his boyfriend’s hand. “No, no, Richie.”
“Come on, Spaghetti,” Richie’s smiling and Eddie’s trying to ignore the shine in his eye, “it’s just water.”
“We’re gonna catch a cold, Trashmouth.” Richie’s trying to drag him on the road. Eddie’s pulling back, but only half-heartedly. He can just barely hear his mother whispering words of sickness in his ear.
But Richie’s smile. Richie’s eyes. Richie’s voice is louder than his mother’s. So when he says, “Come on, Eds. Live a little,” Eddie lets him pull him along, laughing.
As the rain gets heavier, the laughs get louder. There is water everywhere and he’s shivering but he’s never been warmer. He can feel it spread every time he looks at Richie. They’re still holding hands. Mostly because they’re dancing. But, maybe a little because they can’t let go of each other. It’s taken them so long to get to this place. They don’t want to let go.
They’re dancing to the music of the rain. They’re dancing and laughing and Richie’s spinning Eddie around and around. And when Eddie crashes into Richie’s chest, he can hear the other boy’s heartbeat. It’s beating through the roof. And the blush settling across his cheeks could be from a fever, except it might be from the space between them. And even though Richie’s lips are blue, and his probably are too, Eddie can’t help but want to kiss him. So he does, in the middle of the empty street, in the rain.
Eddie can taste salt. It’s because he’s crying, he realises. It could be the amount of happiness he’s feeling. He heard that happens but, he doesn’t think so. Because Eddie can feel something else. He can’t pinpoint it, it’s on the tip of his tongue, but it’s so powerful. He smiles and looks down at his hands. He didn’t think he could feel happiness like this. If only he could remember why.
Why he felt like he could break into a grin. Why he felt like everything made sense like this. Why he fell in love with the rain. Why he could see his mother running towards him.
He takes a step back. Somehow, he expects to fall into the chest of someone wiry yet strong. He expects the feeling of glasses sticking comfortably into the side of his head. But, instead, he falls into air. Nothing to hold him. No arms to keep him safe. Just his mother ambling towards him, gripping his arm and pulling him inside the house.
Only, this isn’t his house; it’s his apartment. And it isn’t his mother it’s Myra. He can barely hear her fussing. Barely feel her poking and prodding him to see if he’s okay. He realises what that other emotion is. It’s longing.
It is the only thing he can feel now. He doesn’t know why. When he stumbles into the apartment, Myra in tow, he hears the sound of rain and feels his clothes stick to him.
Was he in the rain? He turns to his girlfriend and thanks her for dragging him out of there. “I don’t know what got into me. Thanks, honey.”
“No problem, Eddie-bear. Now go off and take a shower. Then you can join me for the rest of the movie. You interrupted me, Eddie-bear. That means we’re going to start is from the beginning.”
Eddie froze at the name. Did his mother not call him that? He mumbled out an apology and kissed her on the cheek. A familiar habit. Like walking out into the rain. He shook his head, the feeling of longing disappearing. He’s getting delusional. Eddie Kaspbrak didn’t run into the rain. He hates the rain.