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Chapter Text

The sun crept up into Eddie's room that morning, just like in any other, shining on the mirror of the inconveniently open wardrobe door and reflecting onto his face. His eyes opened at the uncomfortable brightness, but he kept himself from rolling over and falling asleep again.

Nature's alarm is better than any other , he convinced himself, planting his feet on the cold floor for a few seconds before getting up. 

Eddie ran down the stairs excitedly, eyeing the calendar one last time just to make sure. It was today. The day his life would change forever. The day he'd become free.

The boy poured himself a glass of orange juice while the bread was toasting, happy to have woken up before his mother, this way he could be more comfortable in his own kitchen. He could barely believe it. He was finally going to college. Granted, the classes would only begin a week from now, but he had to get settled in earlier since it was a long way from Maine to California. He had applied for dorms with Stanley, though he still had some money saved from his secret part time job in case he had to rent an apartment instead, for precaution. He knew how unpredictable things could be and he always wanted to be prepared for whatever the universe would throw his way. 

Today he would officially move out of his mother's house and out of Derry, to chase after his future. He couldn't be more excited, but he was still going to miss his friends. It's not like they'd never see each other again, though. Well, apart from Richie. But no, he wouldn't let anything get in the way of his freedom. Not even his ex-best-friend. 

Eddie shook his head at his thoughts, concentrating on the occasion until he felt his smile come back to his face. There was so much to do, but right now he needed to finish his breakfast, preferably before Sonia woke up and pleaded him for the millionth time to not leave her side, that he was sick and he needed her to be with him at all times and, oh, Eddie-bear, what if you have an asthma attack, choke on your food and die? 

He ate quickly, dismissing the voice in his head that told him to chew each bite ten times at minimum, and took a shower before changing into his travel clothes. Comfortable, but not sleazy, just perfect. After spending ten minutes doing his hair correctly (curling at the edges but not on top, not too fluffy because volume, just a pea sized amount of gel), Eddie collected his toiletries and finished packing the last of his essentials. Soon, he was outside, waiting at his porch for Stan to come pick him up and start the three-day road trip. They had both taken their licenses last year, so they would be able to take turns for sleep and get there quicker.

He was tempted to reach for the inhaler in his pocket when he saw a car he knew very well approach. 

Eddie watched as the red 85 mustang parked across the street with a twinge of familiarity and confusion (and betrayal) binding his chest. Richie closed the door and crossed without looking. 

"What- what are you doing here?" Eddie huffed, folding his arms as if his lungs could possibly constrict more. Richie shook his head like a dog after a bath, and squinted at Eddie through his bangs for a moment, before a sarcastic grin broke through his face. 

"Well, hello to you too, Edward! How d'ya do?" Richie started, pocketing his car keys and moving to pick up one of the boxes behind Eddie. "I'd ask how your mom is but I saw her yesterday night, I'm sure you heard when I- " 

"Put those down." Eddie argued, "What are you doing? Where's Stan?" 

Richie flinched. He put the box back but didn't turn to look at Eddie. "Wow. He didn't tell you. Great.", and then moved back around to his car. "Great fucking friend he is!", he called to no one, flailing his arms above his head. 

Eddie was extremely confused. 

The last time he saw Richie was a month ago. August fifth, to be exact. Richie had, not for the first time, brought hard liquor to a losers gathering, and, not for the first time, Eddie flipped his shit. " Richie ," He had howled, " Do you know what my mother would do if she found out we were drinking vodka? We're eighteen, fuckhead, how did you even get all this booze? I swear to God Richie, one day I'm gonna end up in jail and it'll be your fault."

But, for the first time, Richie didn't humor him. He only shot a "don't drink, then, Eddie.", and completely ignored him from then on. At the end of the night, Richie was hammered, sitting on the ladder of the clubhouse while the rest of the losers played party games, and Eddie was feeling unusually lonely. It wasn't natural for Richie to be setting himself aside like that. Something was going on. 

So Eddie gathered up some courage and walked towards him, mustering what he could call, from afar, an empathic look, and asked, quietly, if Richie was okay. Eddie felt the urge to flinch when Richie death-stared him, a mixture of condescension, hurt and anger. It was a face he'd never seen in Richie before, and he was scared. 

"What do you care, Eddie. It's not like you'd stay here for long enough to find out." Richie mumbled, obviously not holding his liquor well. 

"What do you mean? Of course I care."  

"Apparently not enough to tell us you're running away with Stanny to California" he replied, raising his voice at the end of the sentence, making the losers turn to face him. His eyes widened and Stan blushed and looked away. Bev was startled by this. "What are you talking about, Richie?"  

"Oh, they didn't tell you guys either? Yeah, Ed's here is moving to L.A. with Stan. Congrats on leaving us behind buddy, you must be really happy." Richie scowled, gulping down the rest of his beer. 

"Stan, is that true?" Bill asked quietly. Stan nodded defeatedly. 

Eddie felt his face twist up in confusion and anger. "H-how did you find out?"  

Richie's mocking expression fell. " Does it matter?" 

"Why are you doing this?" Eddie asked. Richie was being unreasonable. It was okay for him to be sad, but why act like that? Why was he hurting Eddie like that? 

"What, you think I'm being a bad friend? Should I be, what, jumping up and down in excitement?" Richie snapped. It was getting clearer that the corner of his eyes were glinting under the light in the clubhouse. 

"No, but-" 

"Were you ever gonna say anything?" He interrupted. " Or were you just gonna leave forever without saying goodbye? " there was a pause as Richie allowed himself to shed an angsty tear. Eddie felt a wave of sadness hit him, like a fog that blurred his senses. He immediately looked away from Richie, because he knew his face would show his emotions. 

Eddie knew what he was supposed to do. He knew that he should've told his friends, but he just... Couldn't. Telling them meant saying goodbye, and saying goodbye meant feeling things. Talking about feelings. Eddie wasn't ready to do that. 

"Its not... It's just hard..." 

"Well, let me make it easier for you then." Richie sniffed. "We? We're not friends anymore. Don't call me, don't come up to me, you could be moving to China for all I care. See you never, Eddie." he finished, climbing the ladder out of the clubhouse, leaving Eddie underground. 

"Richie, cmon!" Mike called, but it was too late. He was gone, and he wouldn't come back. 

"Richie!", Eddie called, shrugging off the haze of the memory. Richie turned, leaning against the side of his car. "Will you tell me what's going on? Why are you here, after..." he gulped, looked away. "Where's Stan?" 

Richie closed his eyes and sighed. He pushed himself off the car and, for a moment, he looked like he was reaching out to Eddie, but he stopped himself. "Cmon, let's sit down, dude." he pointed at the curb, " It's a long story." 

Eddie sat down on the concrete, not missing the fact that Richie put some distance between them. "It's Stan." Richie said, and that said by itself is what sent Eddie into a panic. 

"What's with Stan? Is he okay? Did he get hurt?" 

Richie's eyebrows furrowed for a split second, but then he explained, "No, no, he's okay. He's pretty good actually." Eddie stared as Richie paused, but then continued. "He got into Yale."

Oh. 

Yale. 

"Yeah. I know." Richie answers to the expression on Eddie's face. They were always able to read each other, when they were friends. "Apparently he got the admission letter but was too scared to open it. For someone who's going to an Ivy, he's pretty fucking dumb.", he smiled at his own awkwardly bad joke.

Eddie's lips were beginning to curl up, but then he realized. "So, he's... Not going to LA." 

"No. He's not. " 

"What are you doing here, Richie?" Eddie asked once again, but this time with a less accusational tone. 

"I'm..." Richie took a deep breath, exhaled. He looked down at where he was fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "I'm going to college with you. And I'm taking Stan's dorm." 

Eddie's face turned up in confusion. "You're... What? You're moving in with me?" 

Silence. 

"To California? The same place you had a bitch fit over me moving to?" 

"It wasn't a bitch fit!" 

Eddie raised a brow. 

"Ugh, okay, yeah I know. Trust me, the irony isn't lost on me either. I just..." 

I'm sorry?

I was being a dick?

I didn't mean to make you feel bad? 

Eddie hoped. 

"We're already in this situation, there's no getting out of it. Just help me bring your things to the car, will you?" 

Eddie delayed as Richie got up and picked up the boxes again, but eventually joined him. They didn't speak as they finally moved to the car, which didn't have much space for Eddie's things, but they settled in the seats afterwards, and Richie started the car. 

"Is your-" "When did you-" They spoke at the same time, and fell quiet together. 

" You go first." Richie conceded. 

"I didn't know you had applied to UCLA" 

"Yeah, well" he sighed, turning in his seat with his hand behind Eddie's head rest to leave the parking spot without backing into the car behind them. Eddie flushed, because he didn't think he'd be this physically close to Richie today. Or ever again, for that matter. "I wasn't going. I mean, it wasn't my first or second choice. I just applied because my mom asked me to." 

Eddie hummed in acknowledgement. "What made you change your mind then?"

Richie's eyes darted to Eddie's at the question. "I, uh... Didn't get into any of the colleges I wanted." He turned back around and started driving down the street. 

Seeing that Richie wouldn't explain any further, Eddie continued. "What were you gonna ask me?" 

Richie sagged in relief at the change of subject. "How did your mom react to you leaving? I mean, I expected to have to pry you from her slimy grip to get you in the car." He chuckled. 

"That might be because... She thinks I'm going to Derry Community College." 

The car came to a stop so aggressively that Eddie had to steady himself against the dashboard. 

"WHAT?" 

"Holy shit, Richie, what the fuck?" 

"You didn't tell your mom you're going to California?" 

" You know you can't just stop in the middle of the street, right? There are cars coming!" 

"Eddie, does she have any way of contacting you? You know she's gonna freak out right?" 

Eddie scoffed. "I am very aware of the position that I put myself in. It's none of your business how I deal with my mom, and whether or not she freaks out about it, I can handle it. Would you start driving?" 

"But-" 

"Richie, drive." 

Richie sighed, but drove. There was a beat or two of silence, until he spoke, with a much softer voice. 

"Was this your plan all along? To run away without telling anyone where you were going? Not a note or a phone number? Just, unreachable?"

Eddie was quiet.

"I just don't get all the secrecy behind this."

"I know you don't." Eddie's mouth said with no regard for whether or not Eddie allowed the thought to be expressed. "I mean, you wouldn't understand. I need to run away from this place. From... My mom. I couldn't have any loose threads or else she'd find me and bring me right back."

Another beat.

"You're not the only one with problems, Eddie." Richie produced, and they fell quiet after that. 

It wasn't long until they passed the sign that said "You are leaving Derry, Thank you for visiting!". Eddie felt a wave of familiar, sickly sweet, condescending kindness wash over him, and he was sure he never wanted to see that sign again. He wasn't surprised to have also felt relief. Maybe, in the end, he shouldn't care about how or with who he was leaving, because he was, indeed, leaving, and that was all that mattered.

Chapter Text

Eddie's eyes fluttered open when the engine was cut. He and Richie were parked in a gas station neither of them recognized. The horizon was still illuminated, but the sky was now a deeper blue, and the clouds were pink.

"What time is it?" Eddie asked behind a yawn. 

They had stopped for lunch when noon rolled around. Richie didn't ask for Eddie to switch places, so they didn't. Eventually, Eddie was lulled to sleep by the motion and the continuous sound that car wheels make on road trips. 

"Its six thirty right now. I thought we could ask about a hotel here." Richie replied, stretching in his seat. "Ugh, my back's fucking killing me." 

Eddie didn't pause his eyes on the sliver of stomach that showed from Richie's shirt riding up, because that would've been weird. 

They both left the car, Richie to fill up the gas and Eddie to get directions from the lady in the convenience store. The woman was nice, but not a fake kind of nice. She helped Eddie with a genuine smile. He left the store with a map, a coke and two packs of gum.

"Hey, Eddie!", Richie said as Eddie walked back to the car. He had an easy smile on his face, the kind that looked like he didn't even notice it was there, like it could be wiped off his face just as easily.

Richie's scowl flashed through Eddie's mind then. The way he looked so angry when he told their friends about Eddie's and Stan's secret. The disappointment that he radiated as his eyes welled up with tears, and Eddie couldn't do so much as look at him. 

Oh, right , he thought. We're fighting . 

"So, did you get anything?" Richie asked curiously, pointing at the thin, almost see through white plastic bag that Eddie carried. 

"I got the map. The lady from the store said there's a hotel about two miles that way." Eddie said, pointing to his right. 

Richie turned around as if he could see the hotel from where he was standing, in this parking lot. "Huh. Well, we better get going then."

He unhooked the gas pump from the car and turned to pay on the automatic machine. "So, this lady from the store." he smiled again as he began. "She hot?" 

The scowl.

The tears.

She hot?  

Eddie's cheeks reddened as he huffed and rolled his eyes. 

"No, Richie. She was forty." 

"We'll, your mom is fifty three and that didn't put me off." Richie continued with his grin. As if nothing had happened. As if Eddie was only playing along with his teasing, like they used to do before Richie fucked everything up. "Au contraire, my friend, it actually turned me o-" 

"I thought we weren't friends anymore.", Eddie burst out, and entered the left side of the car. Richie stood outside for a couple seconds before climbing into the passenger seat beside him. 

"What the fuck, Eds?" he admonished, surprised. 

Eddie burned. "Don't call me that." 

"Why are you being such a dick all of the sudden?" Richie questioned. 

"I'm not being a dick, dude, you're the one who's acting like everything is okay as if you hadn't done what you did-" 

"Wait, what I did?" he interrupted, "You do know that you and Stan are the ones who lied to us, right? God, Eddie, excuse me for trying not to be an asshole all the fucking time, unlike you." 

"Omission isn't lying, Richie." 

Richie scoffed. "Fuck you, dude." 

He wasn't smiling anymore. 

It was already night when Eddie pulled up in the parking lot of the three star hotel closest on the map. Richie continued not to say anything, but Eddie knew he was mad if the door slamming was anything to go by. 

Eddie found Richie in the lobby talking to the receptionist, who had on an annoyed expression. Richie was probably flirting with her, like he did with every breathing woman that crossed his path. 

"... You know, my first two girlfriends were receptionists. I like keeping patterns.", Eddie heard as he approached. He kind of wanted to punch Richie in the face, but that would probably get him a night in the local jail. Richie stopped talking when he saw Eddie, much to the girl's delight. 

Eddie asked her for a double and Richie paid for his half of the room. They stayed in silence as they made their way to the main hall with their bags. 

"What's the number?" Richie asked, startling Eddie. 

"What?" Eddie asked, confused. Richie kept stoic. 

"The number of the room.", he explained, with little patience. 

"Oh. Two-oh-six, why?" Eddie had barely finished speaking when Richie turned around and started marching the opposite way. "Where the fuck are you going?" 

"Stairs.", is all he said. Eddie was left with the sounds of the shoes stomping the steps carelessly and all of their luggage. 

Eddie looked around, trying to make sense of whatever just happened. He eventually just gave up and pressed the elevator button. At least the hotel had an elevator. 

He arrived at the door at the same time Richie finished climbing the stairs. He sounded out of breath, and that made Eddie actually angry again. Richie was being so childish with this irrational avoidance, he could've just taken the elevator and not talked to Eddie on the way. But no, he made sure to be an asshole and ended up panting in Eddie's face from his lack of exercise. 

Still, Eddie didn't say anything. He only opened the door and tried to settle in his side of the room. Thankfully, Richie didn't make a show out of choosing beds. 

"I'm going to the bathroom", Richie announced shortly after. If Eddie remembered correctly, Richie would spend half an hour just in the shower and only half a minute brushing his teeth, if he even remembered to do that. Eddie thought it was so gross and unhygienic for Richie to not brush his teeth that he overcompensated on his own, and that was the reason why he couldn't bite into ice pops.

"That shit's not fair", He thought out loud, as he rummaged through his suitcase to find his sleeping clothes. Now that he was out of his mom's house, he refused to sleep in pj's any longer.

He found a shirt and some comfortable shorts beside his necessaire containing some Advil and Tylenol and his backup inhaler, that his mom must've put there. 

Eddie felt his throat close at the sight of the medicine. The last time he had swallowed a pill his mom gave him was before the summer of 89, when Henry Bowers broke his arm and he found out that Sonia was a big fat liar that fed him placebos. 

Sometimes Eddie wondered how things would've been if he never found out. Would he keep taking those sugar pills and do everything his mommy told him? Would he ever even want to leave home, thinking everything was okay and that he was being protected instead of controlled? 

Would he have had this fight with Richie? 

Eddie took a puff or two (or three) of his inhaler to calm down, and got up without a reason other than needing to get off the floor. 

That's when he saw it. 

Richie's clothes. On top of his bed. Not in the bathroom with him. 

Fuck, he thought.

Soon enough, Richie burst out of the bathroom wearing only his dripping hair and a towel on his hips. Eddie looked away like his eyes had been burned by the sight. Of course, he chose today to take a quick shower. 

He quickly ducked into the bathroom before Richie could even say anything. Not that he would, anyways. 

(Eddie was mad. He was angry at Richie, first of all, because he exposed him to their friends and also compromised his plan. 

He was angry at Stan, too. He didn't tell Eddie he had applied to Yale, much less that he got in. And he had to find out through the friend he wasn't speaking to anymore. 

But most of all, he was angry at Eddie. 

He told himself he would tell them. He would find a way. That everything would be fine, he could tell them, it would be fine once he did. But he knew it was a lie.

Eddie lied to them just like he lied to himself. )

Once he was finally done wallowing in self-pity and hot water, Eddie opened the door to a surprisingly empty room. He thought about calling Richie's name but that would be dumb since he had a clear view of not him. He tried to shrug it off as Richie going downstairs to eat something, but he knew the reason why he had left. He was the reason.

There was, admittedly, not much he could do. He could turn on the TV, but he doubted there'd be anything interesting showing at 9:30 pm, if not for game shows or soaps like his mom used to watch. 

Still watched. She didn't die just because he left. 

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if she did , his mind told him, and he startled himself with the thought. 

Yes, his mother was a liar and a manipulator, but did she deserve to die? Surely not. She was a bad person, but she was still his mom. 

What kind of person would think that about their own mom? Perhaps a sick person. A dirty, wretched, sick boy who wanted to hurt the people that loved him. That couldn't accept his mother's love. 

Why do you do this to me, Eddie? She'd say, Why don't you let me love you?  

Eddie jumped as he heard the sound of keys against the door, but forced himself to regain composure before it opened. 

" You're here.", Richie stated, as he entered the room. 

"You're back.", Eddie mimicked, hiding his sniffles. "Where were you?" 

"Out." Richie closed the door, and then inhaled deeply, like he was going to say something. He didn't. 

Eddie watched as Richie laid down on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. Richie smelled like cigarettes and chewing gum, two things he'd put in his mouth when he was anxious or needed a break from something. Eddie wondered vaguely if Richie went through the plastic bag to get the gum before he left to go smoke, or if he bought more, oblivious to the two packs Eddie had gotten from the gas station. 

"We should sleep. We have to wake up early tomorrow." Eddie spoke. Richie turned away from him and turned off his bedside lamp. 

Eddie repeated the boys motions. "Goodnight, then, I guess." he whispered into the dark, and closed his eyes. 

Chapter Text

Richie woke up at 7:30 am with Eddie's alarm clock, but he didn't get up. Instead, he turned around and shoved his face into the pillow. Eddie was already walking around the room, with no regards for how loud he was being or how long Richie had driven the day before (twelve hours. He drove for twelve hours.).

It was when the noise started to sound purposeful that Richie groaned and climbed out of bed. Eddie was sitting on top of his suitcase, violently pulling the zipper closed, and it might've been a bit adorable if it wasn't infuriating. 

" What are you doing." Richie bit out, his disheveled hair falling on top of his eyes.

"Getting ready to leave? What are you doing? Oh, wait, I know the answer to that. Nothing !" 

"Oh my god.", he groaned again, walking into the bathroom. Richie wished he could stay locked in there for the rest of his life, or until something changed. Until he could convince himself to stop hoping something would change. 

Fucking trust Eddie to have a magnetic personality, but electric shock you if you get too close. 

Richie flushed the toilet and washed his hands, avoiding the mirror as much as he could. When he walked out, Eddie was making his bed. 

"You know they're gonna wash those either way, right?" 

Eddie paused his tucking of the sheets under the mattress (as if he was in fucking prison), and looked up to the other boy. 

First eye contact since yesterday's fight.

(Was yesterday really a fight? Could've been a continuation of a fight. Or a spin off, but not a standalone-) 

"Yeah" Eddie said, breaking the silence. "Fuck. I can't believe I'm doing this."

"Doing what?" Richie asked, confused. Eddie looked a little embarrassed and very angry. 

"Making the bed. It's something... my mom used to make me do every day. Like, she'd yell at me if I didn't do it right away. She'd say..." Eddie trailed off, and looked back up at Richie. He cleared his throat, and Richie sensed the awkwardness as it came. "Nevermind."

And Richie did. Kind of. He gathered his things in his own suitcase haphazardly, thinking about who Eddie used to be to him and who he was now, how different those two people were. How Eddie used to tell him everything and anything when they were kids, and now he couldn't even finish a sentence without backtracking. It made him want to puke. 

But he didn't care now. He couldn't care. They weren't friends anymore. 

"You ready?", he called from the floor where he was, on the other side of the room. 

"Yeah. Did you get everything? Go to the bathroom? Drink water?" 

"Yes Eds, Jesus, you sound like my mom." Richie said, choking back on his tongue once he realized the use of the nickname. Eddie had been pissed off the day before when he used it unconsciously. If he noticed it now, he didn't bother to address it. 

"I don't wanna have to stop on the way! We're already late, come on." 

They checked out of the hotel and got their stuff in the car. It was still humid from the night, but soon it would be quite warm. Eddie must've thought of that because he smelled like sunscreen.

Eddie pulled out of the parking lot without sparing another word. They were now officially back on the road. 

(Richie didn't know why he thought of it that way. He supposed it could've been either Eddie's voice in his mind or his own. Eddie might've said it if he was still speaking to him, but he would've meant it ironically. Richie would  absolutely mean it seriously.)

Richie tried very hard to fall asleep. That would've been the best way to go about this, they wouldn't have to speak to each other and it wouldn't be an awkward silence either. But Richie always got motion sickness, even when he was a kid, and if he closed his eyes it felt like he was moving at twice their actual speed. 

So he stayed awake. He wondered if Eddie knew how much it took for him to actually keep quiet. No words, no music, no noises. Of course, his leg was shaking up and down, and Eddie would stare at it from time to time, almost willing it to stop with the power of his mind. 

It was, to say the least, very uncomfortable. 

Richie remembered a time where silences with Eddie were never uncomfortable. When nothing was ever wrong when Eddie was in his proximity. They'd always find something to joke or fight about, and they were always together, for the good and for the bad and for the worse. But worse was never this bad. 

Maybe Richie shouldn't have come. Maybe Stan was wrong about this, and he made the wrong choice. It was supposed to be Stan here, after all, and Richie knew how badly Eddie reacted to changes of plans. 

And Eddie didn't want him there. 

Stan's words rang through his mind, and he reflected.

August third, 1994

Tuesday

Richie had only just gotten his letter. There was no way he was going. He didn't think he'd get in, and even if he did, he couldn't go. But he still brought it to Stan's house, because he promised he'd open it with him. 

"Stan!" he yelled as soon as he got to the boy's room. 

"Shhh, Richie, My dad is working." he whispered back vaguely annoyed, from where he sat on his desk. He was doing summer homework, like a fucking nerd. 

"It's here." 

Stan whipped his head towards Richie, and yelled "Open it." 

Richie grinned his widest. He sat on Stan's bed along with Marjorie the Cat, and pet her chin before turning back to his friend. 

"Okay, so." He began, taking the letter out of Stan's reach before he could take it from his hands and open it himself. "I'm not going." 

Stan froze with his hand stretched in  front of him. "What." 

"C'mon, Stan. We both know I can't afford UCLA."  Richie said, and if his face fell a little, that was no one's problem but his own. "You know I only applied because I needed a safety school." 

"UCLA is your safety?" 

"If I even get in, yeah. Let's just get this over with, okay?" Richie said at once, not letting Stan begin his 'you're so smart, of course you got in' pep talk, and ripping open the heavy envelope. 

It could've been true, once, that Richie was excited to go to college. As he read the letter, the feeling sunk into his bones and stomach, and it had been too long for him too be excited but he was... Something. 

"So, what does it say?" Stan asked, leaning out of his chair. 

"Its, uh..." Richie started, stopped, read again. Read one more time. "It's a scholarship. It's a full ride Stan, H-how..."

"Oh my God, Rich. Are you serious? That's great. That's... Amazing! That's-" 

"I'm not going." Richie spit out, startling Stan, but he knew it was the only option. Richie didn't deserve to receive a scholarship to a college so far away while his friends were stuck in Derry. They were a package deal, all or nothing. He couldn't separate them like that. 

"W-what?"

"Stan, it's the other side of the country! I can't go! I can't leave you guys here. That's not fair. I can't, I'm not gonna." 

Stan stared blankly at the floor. He took a deep breath, getting up from his chair, then sighed it out. "So, you're telling me." he began, slightly out of patience. "You got a full ride to one of the best schools in the country, with a wide variety of programs, including the ones you want to take, after not getting into any other schools you applied to, which were three total- and you. Aren't going because you think it won't be fair to your friends?"

Before Richie could nod, Stan was at it again. 

"Do you even hear yourself, Richie? Are you aware of the opportunities you're going to waste if you don't do this? You might... Richie, I need you to look at me when I say this." Stan crouched down in front of Richie, resting his hand on top of his knee, and stared into his eyes. "You might never get the chance to leave this place again. Please reconsider this. I'm asking you, please, think about it first."

"Stan, I...  I don't know. I mean, I don't  want to leave you guys here." Richie said, then again, quieter, "And... I don't want to go alone." 

Stan looked away at that. 

"What?" 

"I have to tell you something." 

"Okay..." 

"But you can't be mad. Please?" 

"Stan, what is it?" 

Stan sighed once again, and sat back down on his chair. "Eddie got into UCLA. And so did I. We're supposed to leave next month, but I'm not going. I haven't told him yet."

Richie sat up straighter, despite his head spinning with whiplash. "What did you just say?" 

"I know, Richie, we should have told you, but Eddie wanted to keep it a secret. I'm really sorry, but... at least you're not going alone?" 

"Stan, what the fuck?"  Richie asked, getting up and shoving his letter in his bag. 

"Richie, come on, don't leave! Look, you need to rethink this whole college thing, if you go, you won't be alone, but if you don't, Eddie will! " 

"Why should I go? He clearly doesn't want me there! He asked you , didn't he? So you go!" 

"I can't!" 

"Why not?" 

"Because I got into Yale!" 

The room was quiet. 

"I know what it's like to feel like you don't deserve good things, Richie." Stan started, putting a lump in Richie's throat. "But you need this. And Eddie needs you there with him. I can't go because I know to put myself first on my list of priorities. You need to learn how to do that too. You need to put yourself first." 

Richie didn't turn around to face him. 

"Screw you, Stan." 

Eddie stopped at a diner after about four hours. They hadn't had breakfast, and apparently, that's all the food the place sold. 

Eddie sat across from Richie on the booth, picking up the menu without a word. 

Richie looked at the pictures of food more than he read the actual menu, but from what he saw there was only waffles, pancakes, eggs, sausages-

"This place kinda sucks" Eddie grumbled out words for the first time since the car. Richie nodded, but Eddie didn't notice in favor of the waitress coming up to them. 

"Did you already choose what you're going to eat?" she asked chipperly, resting her block of notes on their table. She was kind of cute, her eyes were sparkly brown and she was a little on the shorter side. 

"Do you have any, like, salads?" 

"Oh." She giggled, making Richie smile. He loved when people unintentionally made Eddie annoyed. "This is a breakfast diner, actually, I'm sorry sir. I could get you an omelet if you'd rather eat something savory?" 

"No, too greasy." 

Richie couldn't help a snort that fell from his mouth. "You on a diet, Eddie?" 

Eddie looked at the waitress, then squinted and Richie. "Excuse me if I wanna take care of my body. I'm gonna live until 85, unlike you." 

"If you're not doing what you like, are you even really living?" The waitress said absent-mindedly, and both of them stared at her quietly. She must've felt like she had done something wrong, which, well, that was a weird thing to say to someone you just met. 

Richie cleared his throat to try and clear the air. "I'll have some waffles, extra syrup, please." 

"They'll be right down." She smiled, and left. 

"I just don't understand why a breakfast diner would be open at 12 pm." 

"Some people like to have fun, Kaspbrak." 

Eddie ended up ordering hard boiled eggs and a buttered toast. They both ate, paid and left. 

The atmosphere in the car was heavy, but not as forcefully silent as it was before. Richie turned on the radio, and sang along to the songs he knew. One specific song from ABBA started playing, and Eddie's eyes widened. He didn't say anything, but he turned up the volume and bopped his head along. Richie smiled, and stayed silent on that one. 

Richie and Eddie switched places at their next stop, and Eddie drove the rest of the way. They stopped when they reached Kearney, in Nebraska, at midnight, and decided to sleep there. They had wasted too much time on the first day, so tomorrow they would have to drive until five in the morning. 

They didn't really speak to each other, but they silently helped one another with their bags, checked into the motel and fell asleep rather quickly, not bothering to shower this time. Eddie didn't fuss about the germs. 

Chapter Text

Eddie had been on the road for about three hours when his feet started to cramp. The days were starting to blur together,even though this was only the third, and he was trying his best not to fall asleep at the wheel. 

Yesterday he had gone to sleep at one am, and he woke up only six hours later. The plan was for them to travel the rest of the way today, arriving in LA at 4:30 in the morning, but, if Eddie was being honest, he didn't know if he could do that. He had never been this exhausted in his life, and he refused to put poison (energy drinks) in his body, so he was taking an even bigger toll than Richie. 

"What time is it?" Eddie asked when he couldn't bear it anymore, the reflection from the sun on the pavement giving him a headache. 

"It's nine." Richie replied drily, but not rudely. For someone who was laughing at him only thirty hours ago at a breakfast diner with an unknown waitress, Richie was rather quiet today.

"Jesus fuck." Eddie replied. If he kept on driving, they'd most definitely hit a lamppost. "I need to switch, man." 

"What, already? First day I drove twelve hours straight, Eddie, you sure you can't hang on a little longer?" 

Eddie had the slight suspicion that Richie was holding onto that piece of information solely to use it against him at some point. "If you want me to crash your car, then sure, I can 'hang on'." 

Richie rolled his eyes. Strangely. Richie never rolled his eyes, that was Eddie's job, because Richie was never annoyed. Still, he motioned for Eddie to pull over. 

He did so quietly, unbuckling his seatbelt at the same time as Richie, their foreheads almost touching. Richie was sweating a bit from being in a closed car, even though he could've opened a window. Eddie pulled away slightly so as not to actually touch Richie's sweat, but the boy was already opening his own door to trade places. 

Eddie went to do the same, but as he got up, he came down, his vision clouded by psychedelically twinkling dots that clumped together into a black veil. There were no thoughts in his mind and he didn't feel the ground beneath him, only pins and needles in his legs. 

When he came to, there was a very wide eyed Richie crouched next to him. 

"Are you okay?! What happened?!" he worried, and Eddie noticed he was holding himself up on Richie's arms. He quickly detached himself from the boy, making to get up. 

"M'fine" he answered. Eddie didn't want Richie to think he was weak or delicate or fragile or anything other than capable. He rummaged through his pocket for his inhaler. "Just dizzy"

"Are you sure?" 

"I said I'm fine, Richie!" Eddie yelled. "It's not a big deal. Let's just do this already so we can get this over with." 

Richie flinched. Squinted. 

"Whatever, Eddie." 

He let go of the boy, got up and into the car. Eddie struggled but did the same after taking a puff of the medication. He ended up falling asleep in three minutes, waking up later in the afternoon when they stopped at a gas station to load up on food. 

They silently made their way into the air conditioned store, Eddie grabbing some cakes and chips for a lack of options, and Richie talking to the (lady) cashier. 

It was a bit stupid of him to flirt with her while Eddie was struggling to even stand. Though he didn't want to seem dependent, he also didn't want to be ignored in his time of need. 

When Eddie went to pay for the food, Richie was already outside. 

"Why were you talking to her?" he huffed as soon as the automatic doors opened, not giving a shit about whether or not the girl could hear him. 

"What?" Richie asked, a cigarette stuck to his upper lip. 

Eddie rolled his eyes. It felt more natural this time, but still wrong. "Nevermind." he said, and walked to the car. 

"No, Eddie, please enlighten me. What is it that you wanted to know about me talking to the cashier?" Richie replied angrily, also making his way to the same door as Eddie and opening it. 

"Nothing, just- What are you doing?" 

"Getting in the car?"

Eddie crossed his arms and tapped his foot. "I thought it was already established that you were going to drive." 

"What?" Richie squeaked, holding his unlit cigarette in his left hand. "I basically drove the whole way here, no way! You drive!" 

Eddie huffed, incredulous. "Richie, I fainted! Do you know how dangerous it is for me to drive dizzy? Besides, it's your car-" 

"Oh, so now it's a big deal, suddenly? How come you always wanna do things the way you want them and you never give a shit about other people?!" 

Eddie scoffed. "Do you think I wanted this? Do you think I wanted to have to take turns driving with you? What, live with you? This was not something I planned, okay?" 

Richie paused. His eyes fell, squinted, and he gritted his teeth. "So, what you're saying is that you'd rather I were Stan." 

"That's not what I-!" Eddie groaned with all his might, dropping his bag to the ground."You know what, whatever. It's not like you wanted to be here either." he said, and pretended to walk away. 

"How would you know, Eddie?" Richie whispered. Eddie stopped. "How the fuck could you possibly know that?" 

"What?" he turned. There was fire in Richie's eyes, and fire in Richie's zippo. He lit the cigarette. 

"You have no idea what I want. Okay? So you should shut the fuck up about things you don't know and drive this motherfucking car, because I'm exhausted and I don't give a shit anymore. If it depends on me, we're sleeping on the streets today." 

He took a puff, and blew it in Eddie's direction. 

"God, you're so- useless !" Eddie yelled, and entered the left side of the car. Eddie didn't look Richie's way, but he noticed he wasn't getting inside. 

Eddie waited a few seconds, holding his breath, resting his head on the steering wheel. This would be so fucking dumb if he cried. But what did Richie mean with that? Did he actually... Want to go with Eddie? Did he want to be there? Eddie was so focused on the fact that everything was going wrong that he didn't think to ask Richie what he wanted.

Not that he should. They had fought. Richie had been an asshole, and they stopped being friends. Richie was being an asshole right now, yelling at Eddie like he never used to do. Why should Eddie care? 

He didn't. 

Did he?

Eddie didn't even register Richie's absence until he remembered, with a gasp, that people shouldn't smoke in gas stations. He picked his head up and got out of the car, but Richie was nowhere to be seen. 

What was it with him and disappearing when he got angry? 

Now Eddie had to find him. 

Richie stood there for three milliseconds before deciding to go. Crying in front of Eddie was not an option. 

He stepped out of the gas station and into a private area next to it, and he only had to jump one fence. His feet were wobbly and his sight was blurred, but he managed, even though he stepped on his cigarette in the fall. He walked further into the tall grass, the setting sun providing a yellow tone to the sky. He sat down when he found a less humid patch of dirt. 

He dug his lighter out of his pocket along with another 'cancer stick'. He placed it on his lips, and they felt strangely wet. He flicked the lighter, once, twice, three times. Nothing. Once again. The paper was getting soggy and dissolving, and he was still crying, and the fucking lighter didn't fucking work. 

"Useless!" he yelled, throwing the stupid lighter in the bushes and spitting out the white stick. He drew in his knees as he sobbed out the words again. "Useless. Fucking useless piece of shit. Stupid fucking good-for-nothing f-

f-" he stuttered on it, like it was a Big Bill and Bowers hybrid talking through him. "FUCK!" 

He cried. There was no other time he cried like this, except last month, when he cried like this every day. His mom wouldn't check on him if he locked his door, as rarely as she would if the door was open. Once she lost her job, it was much easier to dedicate herself solely to her bourbon, and forget about her mistakes, like her marriage and her son. 

Her useless son. 

Useless. Useless. Useless. 

"Richie?" a voice said, making him look up quickly. No one should've found him here. 

"Are you crying?" Eddie asked. He held Richie's zippo in his right hand, and covered his mouth with his left. He took a step forward, Richie flinched. 

Eddie's eyebrows furrowed. He spoke, softly, "Hey...", and sat down next to Richie. It made his eyes well with tears again. 

Eddie was quiet as Richie cried again, loudly. "Fuck, I hate this.", he sniffed, wiping his own face angrily. He refused to look at Eddie, to know how Eddie was looking at him, to know what he was thinking. 

"Are you crying because of what I said?" he asked. Richie hesitated before nodding. 

Eddie didn't say anything else. Richie was so tired of everything. Having to hate Eddie because the alternative was telling the truth to himself about how he really felt. Why he was angry. Why he didn't want Eddie to leave with Stanley. 

It was so much easier to hide when he was a kid. Bowers always teased (bullied) him about it, but he never saw through him. Nobody knew. Richie loved to pretend he didn't know either.

And it would've been much easier to crack a joke or keep up the barrier of silence they had built overtime, than being what Richard Tozier was most afraid of. Being vulnerable. 

But he was so fucking tired . 

"Remember..." he began, getting Eddie's attention, "eating ice cream after a whole day swimming in the quarry?" Eddie nodded. "You'd always pay for mine because I didn't have enough money, even though I'd say I spent my allowance at the Aladdin." 

Eddie looked away then, with an apologetic expression. "I knew." he said.

Richie dreaded that information, but accepted that as he continued. "You'd groan at me but pay for it anyway. What happened to that, Eds?" 

This time, when he used the nickname, there was a reaction. Eddie cried. He shed two tears simultaneously. Richie pretended not to notice. "I guess... We grew up." Eddie answered. 

"Yeah. Of course." 

It was quiet again for some time, aside from the sniffles from both men. Richie wondered if he should get up, break out a joke about healthy manly bonding, when Eddie blurted, "I didn't mean to call you that." 

"Huh?" he replied eloquently. 

"I didn't mean what I said. I don't even know why I said it. I just... You shouldn't be upset over it. It's not true."

Richie was confused about which part of the conversation Eddie was referring to, but he took it as the last bit. 

"Don't worry about that, Eddie. I'm over it." 

Eddie looked over at Richie, obviously not buying Richie's dismissal. He reached out and grabbed Richie's hand. 

"Rich.", he said, and Richie's stomach dropped at once. "Don't do that." 

He smiled awkwardly, too much teeth, too many tears. "Do what?" 

Eddie's grip strengthened, "Lie to me!" 

"Eddie..." 

Eddie huffed and stood up. "This doesn't make sense anymore!" he yelled, holding his hands to his face. He paced once, twice, going back to his place as Richie watched him take out his inhaler for the second time that day. 

"I don't want to do this anymore." he said, stopping again. "God, Richie, aren't you done with this? Am I the only one?"

Richie swallowed thickly. "You're not. I don't want this either." 

"Then why do we fight?! Why do we keep fighting?!" he pleaded, eyes brimming with tears. 

"I don't know Eddie... I don't think I can forgive you yet."

Eddie's face scrunched up. "F-Forgive me?" 

Richie stood up then, a spark of anger twinging in his spine. 

"Yes, Eddie, forgive you. I fucked up, but I didn't do it alone, okay? You were the one who kept this secret from all of us. You were the one who was going to leave without saying goodbye." 

Eddie stopped, his damp hair sticking up where his hands went through it, his eyes shiny with unshed tears. He sighed, closed his eyes, allowing them to fall. " It's true." he said, at last. "You're right. It is. I'm sorry, Richie. I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have thought I could leave you guys back there without a way to reach out. And I shouldn't have said I'd rather Stan was with me. I don't. You're my best friend, and I'm glad I get to live with you, even though it's not what I planned."

Eddie took a deep breath as Richie processed the words. He continued."I just didn't want my mom to be able to find out, you know. She just... She always wants to mess with my things, control me. I'm still dealing with that. I'm sorry I was selfish enough to not consider you guys' feelings." 

Richie stepped forward, just to test the waters. Eddie didn't flinch, so he stepped again, and once more, until he was close enough to envelop Eddie in a hug. "It's okay, Eddie. Really. I'm sorry I didn't realize how bad things were for you there. I kinda wanted to run away too." 

"You did?" Eddie asked, as if he was surprised. Maybe he was. Maybe he actually didn't know how Richie felt at all. 

Richie sighed. "Yeah."

Eddie hugged him back. 

Chapter Text

They arrived the next day at 5 am. The sky was a dark navy blue on the west, a milky purple color on the east. 

Eddie loved the dawn. What he really, really hated, was being up to see the dawn. He had taken the wheel the rest of the way without complaining, mainly because his headache had gone away completely, along with his dizziness, but also because he kinda owed Richie for calling him useless and making him cry.

Which. Still odd. Richie was never one to take anything seriously, especially some half-meant insult from Eddie, but the stakes were high yesterday and even Eddie had cried a little bit. It was still odd, because Eddie felt like Richie's world was close to breaking with just a comment from Eddie, and it was scary to see him like that.

And Eddie felt guilty, like all of this had been his fault. It kind of was, at least at the end, but it was not a good feeling. He just wanted everything to be how it was before they fought, before they fucked up. He apologized. 

The atmosphere in the car was so much lighter now that they had both made up, though the actual silence didn't disappear. It was just comfortable now. Familiar.

Eddie entered the parking lot, already feeling much calmer than he did last time he parked somewhere. They couldn't do the dorm paperwork then, as the hall council wasn't working at this time in the morning. They would open in three hours, which was not nearly enough time to sleep decently and not worth paying a stay at a hotel or motel or whatever -tel there was. So he and Richie decided to just recline their seats and nap in the car.

Except Eddie could not sleep in a car.

He just wasn't made for it, okay? He could barely sleep in the hotel's beds, because they weren't his bed, and he was having trouble processing the fact that he wouldn't have his bed ever again. 

Point is, Eddie couldn't fall asleep. All he could do was try to find a comfortable position to rest in with his eyes closed, and that managed to be quite the task. 

"Will you stop moving?" Richie barked after a couple minutes. "I'm trying to sleep."

"Yeah, at least you can."

Richie turned, resting his head on his hand. His eyes twinkled under the street light. "Why can't you?"

Eddie sighed. "I'm not good with resting in things other than beds."

"You used to sleep in the hammock." Richie reminded.

"Back when we were kids. This is different." he said, and crossed his arms, sliding down the seat a little. "Do you think... Nah, never mind."

"What?" Richie asked, looking straight into Eddie's eyes. Eddie shivered, hopefully not visibly.

"Do you think we can stay up talking a bit? I don't really have a reason, I just want to."

Richie smiled. "Sure."

Eddie smiled back. "So, what have you been doing this last month?" 

Richie averted his eyes, lips wavering. Eddie felt an unwelcome shift in the mood. "Uh, well... You know. Playing video games and shit. Getting ready for college. I, uh. I talked to Stan a lot." 

"You did?" Eddie asked, sensing that something was being hidden from him.

"Yeah. He kinda convinced me to come with you, because I didn't want to at first. Felt like I was betraying our friends or something... Sorry, I know I shouldn't say that." 

"Oh. Well.If it's how you felt…" 

Eddie did feel a bit (more) guilty knowing that it was easier for him than it was for Richie to leave their friends. Not that it was any easy for him either. 

He didn't want to disappear like that. He had a plan. But when things don't go according to your plans, you have to do your best to still get to the final result, right? 

And he did that. He got to where he wanted to be. From then on, it would be smooth roads.

"Yeah, anyways. He told me you needed me here with you." 

Eddie felt himself jump. “Wait, what?” he asked, eyebrows pinching and ready to fight.

 "No, not uh… Not like you couldn't do it alone, but almost like, I think he meant you would do better if one of us came with you, you know?" 

"Oh. Yeah.” he replied, winding down.

It made sense. But Eddie still felt distraught at the idea he'd need someone. He had never needed anyone and he never would. 

(Not even his mom.)  

"What did you do this month?" 

Eddie breathed. He thought about telling Richie the truth. That he spent the entire month thinking about how terrible it was to be fighting with him, and how much he tried to convince himself that he didn't need Richie and how, in the end, he still missed him every day. 

And maybe he should have, but just because they made up, it didn't mean that everything that happened just disappeared. 

"I just packed my things, really." he said instead. "We should try to rest." 

"Yeah… No, yeah. Sure. Goodnight, Eddie" 

"Goodnight, Rich." 

In the morning, Richie and Eddie finally entered the school grounds. They let out a sigh of relief and hit a high-five as soon as they parked. They were well received by the Rieber Hall staff, who checked their names and ID and made them sign a bit of paperwork before giving each of them a key to their dorm room and a tour. 

Eddie was aware and afraid of the communal bathrooms, but they did look extremely clean. Richie seemed excited with the social lounge. "Bev would love this place, she's obsessed with Air Hockey." he chippered. 

The tour guide smiled at him. "Is Bev your long-distance girlfriend?" 

"No, no, Bev's just our friend." Eddie laughed, and Richie laughed louder. 

They soon reached their room, as the tour guide explained. It was small, but there was plenty of storage space in the walls and under the beds, and both of them had a desk they could use. 

"These storage spaces are not strictly demarcated, so you can talk to each other to decide what spaces are whose." She said, "Now, I'll leave you to move and unpack. Welcome to UCLA!"

As soon as she left, Eddie and Richie plopped on top of a bed on each side. Eddie giggled from the left, "Guess we already chose our sides." 

Richie chuckled also. “Y’a know, you mom was also very keen on sleeping on the left side of the bed. Do you think it's a generational thing or…”

Eddie stopped Richie's disgusting joke with a slam of his pillow onto his face.

With his glasses askew, Richie took two seconds to recalibrate. His devious smile was accompanied by a Kubrick's glance. 

“Oh, it's on, Kaspbrak.” was all he said before he started mercilessly punching Eddie with the pillow

Eddie fell back with laughter.

It didn't take long to actually move their stuff into the room, only a couple trips and they were done. As Richie took his car to a designated parking space, Eddie began unboxing his personal items, starting with the bedding, since the dormitory didn't provide any sheets. He cringed at the Star Wars pillowcase he chose to bring; even though it had sentimental value, he'd rather keep it in a safe place than actually wear it on his pillow. 

He picked a sensible off-white/cream set that kind of matched the walls.

But not for long. 

After putting away the first box's objects, he moved on to decoration. (he would've preferred to put away clothing first, but they hadn't assigned the storage spaces to each other yet and, truth be told, this was much more fun.) 

Eddie always dreamed of having posters up on the wall, but he was never able to do that in his room back in Derry, since his mom wouldn't let him.

But now he could do anything he wanted.

He ripped into the box and started taking out magazine cut-outs of bands like Queen and ABBA, posters of movies like Alien and Ferris Bueller's Day Off , a few Polaroids of him and his friends and a string of colorful Christmas lights. Along with a roll of double-sided tape. 

He stepped back once he was finished to admire his work, leveled colorful rectangles of his favorite things illuminated by his favorite holiday's staple decor. 

Eddie was distracted by someone knocking on the door. 

He assumed it was Richie that had forgotten his key, so he naturally began mouthing off before he actually opened the door. "I swear to god Richie, you can be so irresponsible somet- Oh." 

"Uh, hi!" the girl on the other side replied. "Sorry to bother you, my name is Sandy. I'm a sophomore, I live on 308 with my brother, and I noticed you moved in today. Welcome to Rieber Hall!" 

Sandy was very pretty. She had dark hair, and she was tall and seemed sweet. Her voice was raspy and cool, in a way. She was like the embodiment of wearing sunglasses inside. 

" Um, thank you... I'd invite you in but, to be honest, it's kind of a mess in there" he chuckled awkwardly. Sandy turned around, and Eddie thought she might've been leaving out of embarrassment, but then Richie showed up right behind her. 

"Hey, is there a party here and no one invited me?" he joked rather loudly. Eddie hoped to all heavens that Richie wouldn't try to flirt with this nice young woman. 

"Hi, I'm Sandy" She said, extending a hand for Richie to shake. "I take it you're Richie?"

"Yes, ma'am!" He complied. "Nice to meet you, Sandy. What, pray tell, have you two been saying about me?" he voiced the Southern Belle. 

"Oh, I was just telling your friend about the rule for new residents of the dorm. You know, the one where they have to strip to their underwear and chug a pint while being held upside down by two fraternity dudes." she replied with a straight face.

It was quiet for two seconds, until Sandy explained amusedly, “I'm joking, guys” 

Richie snorted, then burst out laughing like Eddie had never heard him laugh before. "You're funny, Sands. I like you." 

"I try my best." she smiled back. 

Eddie was overcome by something he didn't understand quite well. Somewhere between the feeling of third-wheeling and shame, and he wanted to dig a hole and die in it. 

"Eddie!" he screamed, for a lack of other things to say. 

Richie looked at him strangely. 

"I forgot to say, it's, uh, my name. I'm Eddie. Nice to meet you, Sandy." 

Whatever had happened between this girl and Richie was obviously over, since Eddie stepped in and smashed it with his presence. 

"Well" Sandy exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "I better get going guys. Got a job to catch up on. See you later!" 

"Bye, Sandy!" Richie said, and Eddie stayed quiet.

"Oh, your walls look great, Eddie! Very creative. Very cool." Richie pointed out once he entered the room again. But Eddie wasn't paying attention to his work anymore. 

"Yeah, I guess." he sighed, sitting on his made bed. 

"Is anything wrong?" Richie asked, and Eddie almost answered. But he decided to shrug instead. Richie's expression faltered. "Is it... Sandy?" 

Eddie felt his eyes widen before he could process it. "N-no. No! It's not that, there's nothing wrong with her." he assured. 

Richie's face turned up in an instant, with a wide, teasing grin. "Oh my god, it totally is! Do you have a crush on her?" 

"What!? No! No, Richie, I do not have a crush on Sandy ."

The mere idea was preposterous. Eddie didn't have crushes. He didn't like people. It's something Richie should've known by now. 

"Yeah. Okay ." he said, and it was left at that. 

Richie began tidying up his side, less so gracefully than Eddie had been, which meant crooked posters and wads of tape everywhere. Eddie suggested keeping each side with their own storage and desk, no crossing over. They had more room since they had a double, rather than if they shared a triple or a quad with other guys. 

They finished putting everything away, and then it was time to eat something. They both walked down to the dining hall, swiping their IDs for the meal. They ate together, and it was not half as awkward as it was in that stupid breakfast diner. Eddie didn't think about their buried fight, not one bit.