Chapter Text
“You got the goods?” Reggie asked as she helped Bev climb through her open window
“You know I do,” Bev replied, pulling a carton of cigarettes out of her back pocket and twirling it between her fingers.
Reggie fist-pumped exaggeratedly. “Yesss. That’s why you’re my favorite.”
Bev rolled her eyes. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I know that’s not actually true.”
“Yeah, whatever. Pass me one of those,” Reggie said quickly, holding out a grabby hand.
“Bad day?” Bev asked as she handed Reggie a cigarette.
Reggie shrugged, holding the cigarette between her teeth as she lit it. She took a long drag, leaning forward to blow the smoke out her window. Her parents didn’t give a shit if she smoked as long as they couldn’t smell it, which was a rather generous compromise from them. “The usual. You?”
Bev took the lighter and lit one of her own. “Yeah.”
They sat quietly for a few minutes, exhaling smoke out Reggie’s window and tapping the ashes onto the sill. Bev may not have been Reggie’s favorite, but she was pretty damn close. There weren’t many people that Reggie felt like she could just… be around, without having to fill the silence with some inane joke or stupid impression. Bev was one of those people.
“So,” Bev finally said, taking one last drag of her cigarette before snuffing it out, “Bill asked me to prom.”
“Pfft. Lame.”
Bev cracked a smile. “I thought you’d say that. You still don’t want to go?”
Reggie shook her head, curls bouncing. “Fuck no. Do you?”
“Not really. But I feel like I should. I’ve been a shitty girlfriend lately, and I know Bill really wants to go.”
“I don’t know why he’s so fixated on that. It’s stupid,” Reggie sighed. “It’s all so fucking stupid.”
Bev gave Reggie a savvy sideways glance. “I heard Joey DeFelice asked you to go with him.”
Reggie gagged. “Ew, don’t remind me. Jesus.”
“He’s not that bad. He’s… kind of cute, if you’re into meatheads.”
“Yeah, no. Definitely not my type.”
Bev nodded sagely. “I figured.”
Bev’s voice was a little too knowing for Reggie’s comfort. Her immediate instinct was to distract. “You know I’m only into older guys. And they’ve gotta be rich. If he’s not an 80 year old millionaire with a heart murmur, I’m not interested.”
Bev didn’t seem impressed. She fixed Reggie with a disgustingly sympathetic look. “You know it’s okay, right?”
“Of course it’s okay. All I’ve gotta do is slip a little Drano in his whiskey and boom, I’ve got a house in the Hollywood Hills and a private jet all to myself.” Bev was still looking at her like she was a kicked puppy. Reggie snuffed her cigarette out with shaky fingers. “Jeez, tough crowd tonight.”
“Reggie.” Bev reached out to touch Reggie’s arm. Reggie flinched, but Bev persisted. “You don’t have to fake it. Not around me, anyway.”
“Fake what?”
Bev lowered her voice to a whisper, even though they were alone. “Liking boys.”
Reggie felt like the floor dropped out from under her. She snatched her arm back, barking out a harsh laugh. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Are you saying I’m some kind of… what, some kind of fucking lesbo?”
Bev shrugged. “Would that be so bad?”
“No,” Reggie said quickly. “No, but I’m not. I’m not… like that. I’m normal.”
“Normal is relative,” Bev countered.
Reggie jumped up, suddenly too full of nervous energy to sit. “Why are we even having this conversation? I mean, I’m straight as a ruler. Straight as a goddamn arrow.”
Bev raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? That’s why your locker’s covered in pictures of Annie Lennox and k. d. lang?”
Reggie blushed. “I like their music!”
“And that’s why you stare at Emily Jensen’s tits all the time in English?”
Reggie threw up her hands. “It’s not my fault they’re in my face! Those things are like airbags!”
“And Eddie?”
That was a bridge too far. “Don’t bring her into this,” Reggie snapped.
Bev at least had the decency to look guilty. “I’m sorry. But seriously, Reggie. I know you. And I’m not stupid.”
And goddamn it, Reggie thought, but Bev did know her. She knew her better than almost anyone else. And even if she didn’t, the look on Reggie’s face when she mentioned Eddie would have given it away. And Bev didn’t seem upset by it, or grossed out, so…
“Ughhh!” Reggie let out a guttural groan and flopped face-first onto her bed, shoving her face into the pillows. “Fine, okay! What do you want me to say? That I’m a mega-dyke? A fucking… lesbo-saurus?”
“That would be a start,” Bev replied with a giggle.
Reggie lifted her head to level a glare at Bev. “You’re enjoying this too much.”
Bev shrugged. “I think I’m just happy to see you be honest for a change.” Her expression was so kind that Reggie had to look away.
“Yeah, whatever,” Reggie muttered, rolling over to stare at the ceiling. Her poster of Melissa Etheridge stared back accusingly. “Man, am I really that obvious?”
“Only if you’re paying attention.”
Reggie swallowed hard. “Do you… think the others know?”
Bev sighed and climbed up onto the bed next to Reggie. “Not all of them. Stan probably does. Maybe Ben and Mike, too. Bill’s clueless though, I know that for a fact.”
“And- and Eddie?” Reggie asked, clenching her hands in the duvet cover.
Bev shook her head. “Definitely not. She might be more clueless than Bill, somehow.”
Reggie let out a startled laugh. “Thank god for that. Otherwise I’d be fucking screwed.”
Bev reached over and took Reggie’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Reggie squeezed back hard enough that she could feel her own pulse thrumming through her fingertips.
“So, you’re okay with this?” Reggie asked after a moment. “Holding hands with a real, bona-fide lesbo?”
Bev rolled her eyes. “Duh. I know it’s not me you’re into, anyway.”
“You ought to think more highly of yourself, young lady,” Reggie said in her Prim and Proper Southern Lady voice. “Why, you are a flower just beginning to bloom. A sweet, juicy peach, starting to ripen on the branch. Hey, speaking of peaches-“
Reggie made an obscene gesture and Bev cracked up, shoving her shoulder companionably. “Beep beep, Reggie.”
After a moment, Bev continued. “You know the others won’t care, either. Once a Loser, always a Loser.”
Reggie felt a knot of anxiety she hadn’t even noticed untangle in her chest. “Yeah, I know,” she said, and she actually meant it. “I mean, I’m a closeted lesbian in Derry, Maine. It’s hard to get more loser-ish than that.”
She realized then that she’d never actually said the real word- a million variations of it, of course, but never the actual thing. It had always felt like saying it out loud would be admitting to something, that if someone heard it come out of her mouth it would give the whole thing away.
“I’ll tell them,” she said to Bev. “At some point. Preferably when I’m not sober.”
Bev nodded. “And are you gonna tell her how you feel?” She asked.
Reggie swallowed hard. “What are you, crazy? Coming out as gay is one thing. Coming out as gay with a massive crush on your best friend is another. She’d be totally grossed out.”
“No she wouldn’t,” Bev said.
“Uh, yeah, she would. This is Eddie we’re talking about- she gets grossed out by everything. And there’s no point in saying anything, anyway, because she’s straight.”
“Are you sure about that?” Bev asked. Her expression was so serious that Reggie couldn’t help but laugh.
“Ha, funny joke, Bev, but you know I’m the comedian of the group.”
Bev started to say something, but Reggie cut her off with a wave of her hand. “No thanks. Don’t need you poisoning my mind with blatant lies.”
Bev rolled her eyes, but mercifully decided to change the topic. “Candace Miller is throwing a party next Saturday. I was thinking we should go. Ben helped her pass Calc last year, so she’ll definitely let us in.”
Reggie snapped her fingers. “Oh yeah, the blonde chick with the crush on him. She’s pretty cute. Don’t know why he never went for it.”
“She’s not that cute,” Bev muttered, a cross expression appearing on her face. “But I heard her parents have a huge liquor cabinet.”
“And that’s all it takes to convince me. I’m a simple girl, really. Easy to please.”
It wasn’t too difficult to get the rest of the Losers on board. Bill and Ben agreed as soon as Bev asked them. It took a little pestering to get Eddie and Stan on board, but Reggie knew how to wear them down. Mike offered to give them all a ride, which was very considerate of him. He was also the only one who had a car, but still.
Reggie was the second to last to get picked up, so she had to squeeze into the back with Bev and Bill. Speaking of Bill, it smelled like he’d taken a bath in shitty cologne before he got here. Reggie resisted the urge to roll the window down and shove her face out of it like a dog.
Eddie’s house was the last stop. Mike parked the car halfway down the block and flashed the brights twice, their standard signal. After a few minutes, with no sign of Eddie, he did it again. Still nothing.
“You think her mom caught her?” Stan asked from the middle of the front bench seat.
“Jeez, I hope not,” Mike muttered, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “What should we do?”
Ben leaned forward, squinting out into the night. “Wait, I think I see her. Yep, there she is!”
Reggie let out a sigh of relief as the figure of Eddie Kaspbrak came into view under a streetlight. Edith, really, but the only person who called her that was her mother.
“Sorry,” Eddie said as she pulled the car door open. “My mom took forever to fall asleep.” She reached out and gave Reggie a gentle shove. “Scooch over, will you?”
“Hello to you too,” Reggie grumbled, squeezing even closer to Bill so Eddie could climb in. She’d always been petite, but she was still half in Reggie’s lap as the door shut behind her. She was wearing a pleated skirt that came to just above her knees, and that Reggie knew was probably pinned up at the hem- her mother would never let her wear a skirt that short. Her mousy brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but a couple of strands had already fallen out, framing her delicate face. She smelled nice, not like perfume or anything, but clean, like she’d just gotten out of the shower or something. Reggie could see the familiar bulge of an inhaler in the pocket of her blouse. And her lips were… a kissable, peachy pink?
“Holy shit, Eds, are you wearing makeup?”
Even in the dim light, Reggie could see Eddie blush. “So what if I am?” She snapped, crossing her arms and almost elbowing Reggie in the tit in the process.
Bev leaned across Bill to get an eyeful. “Oh, it looks really good, Eddie!”
“Does it?” Eddie asked, her voice getting small and self-conscious.
“Totally. Right, Reggie?”
“Um.” Reggie blinked, taken off-guard. “Yeah. You’re cute. I mean, the makeup’s cute. On you. Yeah.”
Eddie gave her a weird look, and Reggie considered bashing her head through the windshield. Tonight was off to a fantastic start.
When they arrived at the party, Bev pulled her aside as they were walking up the front lawn. “Hey, are you good?” She whispered.
“No,” Reggie muttered back. “You got all in my head about Eddie. This is your fault, you know.”
“Is it?” Bev asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go have a drink so I can start acting normal.” Reggie took off at a jog towards the kitchen and, hopefully, some beer.
Beer there was, and much of it. Reggie downed her first one within a few minutes, and if Eddie gave her a concerned look, she deliberately ignored it. After that she started feeling more relaxed, so she sipped her next one slower, shouting over the music to bicker with Bill and Eddie about the latest movie they’d seen.
The party was pretty decent, in Reggie’s opinion. It had a lot of alcohol, which was all it really took to make a party decent. The music wasn’t bad, either. Reggie couldn’t dance to save her life, of course- she had a terminal case of what Mike called ‘white girl moves’- but she still did it just to see Eddie laugh.
She was coming back from the kitchen with her third or fourth beer- she couldn’t remember which- when she saw Eddie talking to Adam Welsh. He wasn’t a huge guy, but he was still a head taller than Eddie when he leaned against the wall next to her. As Reggie watched, he said something that made Eddie grin and stretch up on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear.
Reggie’s fingers tightened on the neck of the bottle. She swallowed hard, feeling the beer she’d already drank fighting to come back up. It was suddenly sweltering in the house; there was sweat rolling down the small of her back. She had to get out of here.
“S’cuse me,” she muttered as she shoved her way through a gaggle of drunk girls and out the back door. She stumbled past the in-ground pool, because of course Candance Miller was filthy rich, and into the perfectly manicured back garden.
Stan found her leaning against a tree trunk, sullenly watching the remainder of her drink swirl around in the bottom of the glass.
“You feeling okay?” He asked, sitting down gingerly on the grass to try not to stain his pants.
Reggie shrugged. “Fine. Needed some air.”
“You’re missing Bill’s patented sprinkler move, you know,” he said. “It’s a perfect chance to rag on him.”
“Yeah, well. Gotta give the guy a break sometimes.” Reggie attempted a smile. “You know I’m nothing if not merciful.”
Stan didn’t say anything. He just wrapped an arm around Reggie’s shoulder and pulled her in close. It was a rare gesture from Stan, who’d never been a particularly touchy-feely person. Reggie felt her eyes start to burn. “Fuck,” she muttered, blinking hard.
“It’s okay,” Stan said quietly. He rubbed Reggie’s arm and let her cry on his nice freshly ironed shirt, and was generally a perfect gentleman through the whole embarrassing ordeal. God, Reggie loved him.
“Thanks,” Reggie sniffled once she’d calmed down a little. “Y’know, you’d make a great boyfriend if I wasn’t…” She trailed off. Oops.
Stan just laughed a little. “Yeah. I know.”
“Know what?”
He raised an eyebrow at her. “Reggie. We’ve been friends since third grade. I know.”
Reggie picked anxiously at a blade of grass near her feet. “Jeez. What’s the point of being closeted if everybody’s a fucking mind reader all of a sudden?”
Stan chuckled. “Not everyone. Just me.”
“You and Bev,” she corrected.
“Really?” Stan blinked, surprised. “You told her?”
“I mean, she kind of forced it out of me. But yeah.”
Stan nodded thoughtfully. “That does sound like Bev.”
“But don’t worry,” Reggie said, giving Stan a pat on the head that transitioned into a noogie, “I’m sure you’ll find a nice Jewish girl someday to bring home to Mommy and Daddy.”
Stan pushed her away and tried to fix his hair, smiling despite himself. “I appreciate the vote of confidence.”
They sat in silence for a few moments, listening to the distant sounds of the party. A cricket chirped in a bush nearby, and a night breeze rustled the leaves overhead Reggie shivered a little.
“You want to go back in?” Stan asked.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Reggie sighed. “I’m starting to feel a little too sober.” She hauled herself to her feet and dusted off the seat of her jeans.
Stan sighed and followed her into the house. “Just take it easy on the drinking, okay? I don’t feel like helping Mike clean puke out of his car again.”
Reggie waved a hand flippantly. “Have a little faith in me, Stanny-boy. I can handle my liquor.”
Several extraordinarily strong mixed drinks later, Reggie had to concede that the liquor might have the upper hand this time. But could you really blame her? She had a lot on her mind. Not least of which was how good Eddie looked in that pleated skirt, which seemed to have grown shorter as the night went on- seriously, Mrs. Kapsbrak would have blown a gasket if she could see it.
Reggie pinched herself rather hard and threw back another swig of foul-tasting punch. God, why did she have to be such a fucking creep? This was her best friend she was thinking about, her straight best friend. Snap out of it, Tozier, for fuck’s sake!
Eddie was trying to get her attention now, but Reggie pretended not to see her and weaved her way towards the other side of the room. She started up a conversation with a couple stoners she vaguely knew, and by the time she looked back over, Eddie was gone. Phew.
Reggie proceeded to spend the rest of the night getting sloppy drunk and hiding from Eddie. By the time she was being hauled out of the party by a sullen-looking Bill, she could barely keep herself upright.
“Jesus, Reg,” he grumbled, “Why do you always do this?”
“Do what?” She slurred, reaching up to poke his cheek. “C’mon, why the long face, Billiam? Cheer up.”
He swatted her hand down, still scowling. “D-drink too goddamn much,” he said.
His stutter really only came out anymore when he was drunk or upset- Reggie assumed it was the latter, since he seemed steady on his feet. “Sorry,” she muttered, feeling a lance of shame in her chest.
Bill just grunted, depositing her into the back seat of Mike’s car. “I’m gonna walk home,” he said, and pushed the door shut before anyone could protest. Reggie shot Bev a look, but the other girl was staring resolutely out the window. Jeez. Had she missed something?
The ride home was… very awkward. Mike tried to bring the mood up, switching the radio on and tapping his fingers along to an upbeat pop song, but it wasn’t very successful. Reggie knew she was being uncharacteristically silent, but fuck it. Nobody else was talking, so why should she?
Eddie kept shooting her weird looks from the middle seat, but Reggie kept her eyes on the passing streetlights, trying to ignore the spot where their thighs were touching.
This would be okay, she told herself. Things would go back to normal eventually. In the meantime, she would just… give Eddie a little space. Yeah. That should work fine.