Chapter Text
All I am is a man, I want the world in my hands
I hate the beach, but I stand in California with my toes in the sand
Use the sleeves of my sweater
We’ll have an adventure
Touch my neck
And I'll touch yours
You and your little high waisted shorts, oh
Reggie didn’t hate living in California. In fact, it was quite nice. What he didn’t like was living right on the beach. Sand wasn’t nice in the boots or the flannel, plus the constant sun exposure left sunburn on his cheeks and forehead often, and it was not pleasant.
He liked Bobby though, and how he didn’t give two shits about what anyone thought of him. Bobby would stand on the shore, his pants rolled up just above his ankles, and watch the water. Although Reggie wasn’t completely sure if him rolling the bottoms of his jeans were intentionally done to avoid getting them wet. He also liked when Bobby would snap his suspenders against his chest and wink at Reggie.
He also liked Luke, and how, whenever they shared a mic, Luke would grab the part of his shoulder where the blade was sharpest and cup the side of his neck, pulling him in so much closer. He also liked how Luke smelled when they sat next to each other in English, and always meant to ask what cologne he used, but never got around to it before they died. Ghosts didn’t need cologne anyway, so he never brought it up.
And he liked how into the music Alex got, and the way he shot a smile towards Reggie while Luke and Bobby duetted at the front. Alex always had extra hoodies in the trunk of his car, and when LA got unusually cold and Reggie would, inevitably, not have a jacket, Alex would always throw one at him, even though it was big on him and hung off his hands and draped down to his knees.
She knows what I’m thinking about
And what I'm thinking about
One love, two mouths
One love, one house
No shirt, no blouse
Just us, you find out
Nothing that I wouldn’t wanna tell you about, oh
Reggie also liked his first girlfriend, Maggie, and how her eyes sparkled when she watched the lights strung up in Bobby’s garage flicker. He liked the way her cheek fit perfectly in his hand when he kissed her. He had been teaching her how to play bass when her dad got a big promotion and she moved away, and then they broke up. He wasn’t entirely sure if she’d kept up with it after that, and he wished they’d had more time together. Even after he died, he wondered what happened to her.
He also admired the waitress at the diner that always brought Luke an extra plate of fries, free of charge, after she noticed how skinny he got when he ran away, even if she risked her job doing it. She was older, at least 20 to their 17, but she almost always left with a grin. He liked the way she did her eyeliner, and how sharp it was, and how perfect her nail polish always was, but never built up the courage to ask her how she did it.
And he liked that one flowy button up in the store front next to the record store at the other end of Santa Monica beach. The bottoms of the sleeves were puffy, and it sloped down the chest of the mannequin and into the dress pants it was tucked into. Reggie pretended that he didn’t want to stop and stare at it anytime he and the boys walked past it.
He pretended that he didn’t imagine wearing it while kissing a boy. He pretended that he didn’t want to put on the sharpest winged eyeliner and teach every girl who asked how to do it. He pretended that he didn’t want to kiss boys and girls.
Cause it’s too cold, woah
For you here and now
So, let me hold, woah
Both your hands in the holes of my sweater
It took Reggie a long time to admit it all. Nearly 26 years to be exact.
It had been a long time since the flowy button up, and the eyeliner, and the nails. A long time since he’d secretly eyed the boy in the corner of his history class that wore crop tops and a nose piercing, wondering why he found himself thinking about the way the shirt rode up whenever he stretched. A long time since he’d kissed Maggie on the temple and helped guide her hands to the right chords on command and wondered how lucky he got.
When Julie mentioned her bisexuality, Reggie just held his hand up for a high five, letting the whole intangible thing slip his mind, and said “Hell yeah! Me too!” The boys didn’t even act surprised. They’d known for a while, but figured he’d let them know when the time was right. Not even Julie reacted, she just smiled and gave him an air high five.
Reggie hadn’t realized he’d said it out loud, but he didn’t make a big deal of it. He was just happy they understood. Happy he fit in finally. Happy to be able to paint his nails, and wear badass sharp eyeliner, and cut his shirts into crop tops (with Luke’s help, he’d been cutting his clothes up for years, plus Julie didn’t trust him with safety scissors).
And It’s too cold, it’s too cold
In the holes of my sweater